Ireland's county towns: ‘There were 300 people living on this street. Now it's 17'

Irish Times

3 days ago

The Lyons Café, on Quay Street, has a grand facade unusual for an
Irish
town, even if it is located in the county town of
Sligo
, population 20,608 in the 2022 census. Above the cafe entrance is the beautiful and original stained glass canopy, which would have set the tone for a special visit to a special place. The original mosaic spelling out the cafe's name in the porch is also still in situ.
'The Lyons separtment store from dates from the 1850s, and the cafe opened in 1926,' says Gary Stafford, who owns and runs the cafe. 'We'll be having a big centenary celebration next year.'
The cafe is located upstairs and now seats 135 people. When it opened first, it hosted dances and dinners. Stafford takes me to the original section of the room, where coloured leaded windows are still in place. He points down at the wooden floor, which looks in amazingly good condition to me. 'This is the original maple floor. It's sprung for dancing. We sand it back every four or five years.'
As if all this was not enough time travel, Stafford tells me the cafe chairs are also original. They were imported from the then Czechoslovakia before the second World War. 'A lot of bums have sat on these seats,' as Stafford puts it. It's only a shame there isn't some notice on the wall to inform visitors of these facts about the cafe's history and furniture: everyone loves an origin story.
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'We have always depended on our local trade,' Stafford adds. He scans the space, saying he recognises most of the customers currently in the cafe, which is almost full. 'We have regulars that come in four times a week.'
Lyons is now a daytime business, where the menu changes daily. There is also a bakery on site, downstairs. 'Everything is baked and cooked on site. We have beef featherblade on today.'
At Michael Cosgrove's delicatessen on Market Square, there is a framed photograph of the late, magnificent, Leonard Cohen behind the counter, along with a framed playlist of his songs. 'Ah, that's from the concerts he did at Lissadell in 2010,' Cosgrove says.
Was Cosgrove there on one of the two nights, I ask.
'There both nights,' he says. 'It was brilliant. Just brilliant.'
Stained glass canopy at entrance to Lyons Cafe in Sligo. Photograph: James Connolly
Lyons Café owner Gary Stafford. Chairs in the cafe were imported from Czechoslovakia before the second World War. Photograph: James Connolly
There's a photo of a dog, a golden doodle, also on prominent display behind the counter. 'What's the dog's name?' I ask.
Cosgrove laughs. 'Leonard.'
Cosgrove grew up over this shop in the 1970s, at a time when many others were also living on the street. 'There were 300 people living here. Now there are about 17.'
What changes has he noticed in Sligo over time?
'I don't like Sligo being misrepresented as a city, It is a county town and should be left as a county town. It's the council who are trying to make out it's a city. It's a county town, and you can't dress it up as a city. Sligo is a market town.'
Cosgrove reflects on other changes: 'The disappearance of shops like butchers and grocers and newsagents. The spread of the town outwards. Traffic chaos every day. We are not bypassed. They tried to pedestrianise O'Connell Street some years ago, but it didn't work.'
Michael Cosgrove, at Cosgrove and Sons delicatessen, Market Street, Sligo. Photograph: James Connolly
O'Connell Street, Sligo. Photograph: James Connolly
'They tried to pedestrianise O'Connell Street some years ago, but it didn't work.' Photograph: James Connolly
The days of the shop selling butter or sugar or tea are long gone. The tightly packed shelves contain everything you could possibly think of in the line of preserves and food in jars, tins and packets. Even the most cursory scan of the shelves reveals every kind of dried and canned beans and pulses, a score of different honeys, ranges of mustards, chutneys and pickles, along with items such as jars of curried peaches, Béarnaise sauce and pickled walnuts.
'Our customers are mostly local. If you have good quality stuff, you will always get customers.'
His best-sellers are mostly fresh items from the cold counter. 'We cook our own hams and turkeys, pickle our own beef, and sell a lot of cheese.'
What would Cosgrove describe as the most exotic item he currently stocks?
He thinks for a few seconds, doing an inventory in his head. 'A tin of banana blossoms from Thailand.'
He feels there is more that could be made of the town. 'We have a lot of history in Sligo we don't use that we could use. For instance, we have a fabulous Victorian jail [where both Michael Collins and Michael Davitt were incarcerated] that is falling apart. Why hasn't that been renovated as a tourist attraction?'
The Yeats Building at Hyde Bridge, Sligo.
Photograph: James Connolly
Susan O Keeffe, director of the Yeats Society, in the Yeats Building. Photograph: James Connolly
One aspect of Sligo town, and the wider county that has long been successfully marketed to tourists, is its connection with the Nobel prize-winning poet, WB Yeats. In fact, the entire county is frequently referred to as 'Yeats Country'. Susan O'Keeffe, journalist and former senator, is the director of the Yeats Society, which has occupied a former bank building at Hyde Bridge in the town centre since 1973.
Perhaps surprisingly for a former bank, the building is of a charming arts and crafts design, with its original coloured stained glass windows and panelling throughout. This year marks the 66th anniversary of the Yeats Summer School, which finished yesterday. Some 65 people travelled from China, Japan, India, the US, Germany and other countries for the 10-day event.
Does O'Keeffe think the term 'county town' as it refers to Sligo still has a relevance in 2025?
'We learned the names of county towns years ago in geography. County towns back then had a meaning, and were a piece of our history,' she says. 'But I have never heard anyone refer to Sligo as a 'county town' – and nor do I use the term myself. People might say Sligo is the biggest town in the county, which it is; by far the biggest town. I don't think the term 'county town' is still relevant today. Maybe we will forget about it, and it will be something that won't endure.'
I ask O'Keeffe what she considers the essence of Sligo town, county town or not.
'Leaning over the Hyde Bridge and watching the swans in the Garavogue river,' she says. 'You see people doing that all the time. You don't even think about it. You are in the middle of the town, and the river is its strength. It flows out of mystical Lough Gill, and right through the heart of Sligo town out through the port and into the great Atlantic Ocean.'
A man who knows all about the origins of the Garavogue river is John Carton, who is the harbour master of Sligo port. While many people are aware of Killybegs port further north in Co Donegal, and the port of Galway to the south of Sligo, they may not be aware that Sligo town still has its own, and historic, working port.
Harbour master John Carton at Sligo port. Photograph: James Connolly
The Glasshouse hotel and Garavogue river.
Photograph: James Connolly
'It's been operating since about the 12th century,' Carton explains. We are talking in the foyer of the Glasshouse Hotel, on the banks of the Garavogue. He gestures around the lobby. 'We are currently on the site of the medieval port here,' he says, as I stare around, imagining ships docked in the area where armchairs and sofas are now clustered.
Sligo harbour was built in 1822. Carton himself grew up around the area. His father, also John, was the dredge master of the port. 'He gave me the love of the sea and respect of the sea.' For Carton's 10th birthday, his father gave him a 31-foot wooden boat with a sail and an outboard engine, as well as a sense of trust that the young boy would be able to safely manage it.
'Originally, Sligo was trading with Spain, Portugal and up into the Baltics. Back then, Sligo was a bigger settlement than Galway, and a bigger trading town than Galway.'
What was being traded?
'Oats, barley and potatoes were going out. Gin, wine and spices were coming in. There were casks of sherry coming in from Portugal. Sligo was also trading with a lot of European ports, and selling some of these things on again.'
This back and forth of trading continued all through the 1800s and into the early 20th century, via sailing vessels and steam boats.
In addition to goods, many people from the west of Ireland emigrated via Sligo port. During the Famine of the 1840s, thousands sailed for Canada and the US.
'As a child who lived in a port area, you would see lots of different crews coming in over time. It widens your horizons.' He recalls that in the 1970s, Sligo was exporting cattle to Glasgow, Liverpool – and every three weeks – to the unlikely location of Libya.
'That was when Gaddafi was in power,' he says.
How many cattle were being exported to Libya in the 1970s from Sligo?
'In enough numbers to justify the journey every three weeks. I've looked at the records, and they just say 'cattle'.' (The port records are stored in the Sligo County Museum.)
'To me, the county town is the town that is the focus of your county, and that's what Sligo is. We were a port town first, and then the railway came afterwards to connect us.'
Sligo port remains a working port. 'We export fish meal, and logs to make paper. The fishmeal is processed in Killybegs and goes to Norway, Greece, and the UK. Timber goes to Scotland, Germany and Belgium.'
A paper log is still maintained for all ships that come in and out of Sligo. The average number of ships into harbour a year has been 20 in recent years, but by the time I talk to Carton in early July, that number has already been exceeded. 'It'll be more like 40 this year,' he says.
Could more be made of the port in terms of tourism or leisure?
'A lot of Irish towns had turned their back on the water, but now that is now changing. There are plans to build a marina at Rosses Point, so we will see what happens.'
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The ancient Irish town battling against decline: 'It used to be the centre of things, but those days are gone now'
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Later that evening. I find myself crossing the Hyde Bridge. It's raining. Even so, I stop for a couple of minutes, lean on the bridge and listen to the rushing waters of the Garavogue river sweeping underneath, as if unseen creatures are urgently calling to each other as they pass by. If towns have distinctive sounds, this is what Sligo sounds like, and always has.
Next week: Rosita Boland visits Clonmel