I ONCE gave an impromptu tour of the battlefield of Aughrim, to a busload of foreigners, with a vivid account of how William III’s army defeated the Jacobites in this most decisive battle in the history of Ireland. I even pointed out the bush under which de St Ruth, the commander of the Irish forces, had fallen. I was in the midst of a most eloquent description, when an American gentleman who had been growing increasingly restless, waved a guide book in the air and interrupted my talk to say surely the battle was in Aughrim, Galway – not here in Aughrim, Co Wicklow!
I am not alone in making this sort of mistake, for Cahal Mór of the Wine-red Hand, King of Connaught, made a more expensive geographical error after he had promised to erect a new church at Ballintubber in Co Mayo. When he returned, some years later, the inhabitants told him indignantly that no new church had been built and that no one had even come to repair the only one. The king was bewildered for he had given the orders, but eventually found that a church had been built, but at Ballintubber, Co Roscommon. He vowed then to build a church here in Ballintubber, Co Mayo seven times more magnificent than the one in Roscommon, and though this may be an apocryphal story, the great abbey of Ballintubber was founded for the Canons regular of St Augustine in 1216.
It is the proud boast that there has been continuous worship within its walls ever since, in spite of various vicissitudes. It was burnt in 14th century and 200 years later the abbot was accused of the improper use and waste of the revenues; in 1542, it was suppressed with all the other abbeys by Henry VIII, but left relatively intact. However, Cromwellian soldiers destroyed the domestic buildings and took the roof off the abbey, though the stone-vaulted chancel remained undamaged so that Mass could continue to be said. The abbey was restored in 1966 and has a simple white-washed interior decorated with the original stone carvings of interlacing birds and fabulous animals on the arches in the chancel and on the triple east window.
The sacristy was the original mortuary house of the Burkes and contains the magnificent tomb for Grace O’Malley’s son, Theobald Burke which has a canopy and is surrounded by the 12 apostles.
But what brought me in Holy Week last year to Ballintubber, was the passion play that the parishioners have performed annually for the past 21 years.
It had been wet and windy, but just before the opening scene, miraculously the rain ceased, the wind dropped and there was a moon. That it does not rain during a performance is ascribed to the intercession of the Carmelite nuns from Knock, who have offered up prayers that have been answered for every performance. (However in case there is some glitch in the power of prayer, open-sided sheds have been erected). The audience had come in buses from as far away as Waterford and Belfast and there was a group from Korea, which recited the rosary. In our shed there was more secular chat, although one lady left us saying that she had to join the angels who were having trouble with their wings.
The steep hillside that slopes dramatically down to the cathedral with many natural rocks and trees is a perfect setting for the powerful events of the crucifixion, with only a little light relief in the devil, who scampers about peaking out from behind the rocks. The play is really a mime as the voices and sound-effects were recorded a few years ago. (It must be a little uncanny for the
actors as some of the voices have gone to their eternal reward.)
However there is no forgetting of lines, though the synchronisation between the actors and their voices is not always precise; sometimes the actor is caught nervously biting a finger nail while his voice implores assistance from the almighty.
Passion plays were prevalent in the Tyrol and southern Germany since the 11th century where they were performed in monasteries and then became elaborate civic events in towns combining religious, artistic and a popular element until gradually the drama was overtaken by carnival frolics with coarse and obscene jests so that most of them were banned by the church.
The village of Oberammergau in Bavaria has put on a play every decade since 1634. They made a vow then, when the Black Death was sweeping the land, already devastated by the Thirty Years War, that if they survived they would act out the scenes from the Passion. The whole village is involved with at least 2,000 people take part, including 500 children who perform in choirs and in the orchestra. One has to have lived in the village for at least 20 years before one can participate in the play. For 15 months before the opening night, the men let their beards, moustaches and hair grow – even policemen are given special dispensation from any form of barbering. The props are as authentic as possible; the spears have been forged by the local blacksmith; the crown of thorns has sharp spikes and the cross is very heavy. All the major roles have two actors as it is such a commitment of time and dedication, for the play goes on from May until October five days a week and lasts five hours with a three-hour break in the middle. There have been some changes, such as toning down the original anti-Semitic script and in the year 2000, Muslim residents of Oberammergau took part.
At Ballintubber, the materials for the artefacts may not be so similar to the original, the rehearsals go on for about three weeks, some of the actors have been in the cast since the first performance and the drama itself lasts an hour. The Passion Play at Ballintubber is so genuinely part of the parish, which gives a unique charm and attraction of its own to the extreme drama of story. This year, the Passion play will be performed at 9pm on Monday, March 29th, Tuesday, March 30th and Wednesday, March 31st.
www.ballintubberabbey.ie