Glenconkeyne: How Ireland’s Largest Native Woodland Became the Timber Yard of the Plantation of Ulster Gordon D’Arcy (bio) this essay explores the circumstances, particularly the ecological and cultural impacts, resulting from the disappearance of the forest of Glenconkeyne (Figure 1) in central Ulster in the early seventeenth century.1 Research has shown that this exploitation, occurring during the turbulent transition from the Gaelic to the colonial regimes and serving to satisfy the demands of the English “undertakers,” completely eradicated the forest by the mid-seventeenth century. The disappearance of a great forest is much more than the loss of a dramatic landscape feature or of the economic value of its constituent trees as a self-sustaining capital resource and the promise of prosperity. Greater than the sum of its parts: evaluation of the forest’s loss must also consider its vital life-supporting capacity and its hidden layers of human history. Ecologically, forests act as protectorates for flora and fauna, many of which are now endangered or relegated to isolated reserves. Forest biodiversity, especially that of the rain forests, is among the richest known, supporting many species that have unbroken links to primordial beginnings. Forests are thus irreplaceable repositories of living things. Their importance as “super lungs” on which all organisms, including humans, depend is common knowledge and one of the primary motivations for contemporary forest conservation. The removal of a forest also represents radical visual transformation: a [End Page 89] Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Glenconkeyne Woodland, c. 1600 [End Page 90] landscape replete with natural form and texture replaced usually by unadorned modification; a tract of wilderness tamed. Culturally a forest constitutes a discrete arboreal archive. Human history, benign and nefarious, is frequently linked to the “wildwood”: a place of mystery, a place of retreat, a refuge for seekers of inspiration and outlaws—animal and human. Unchronicled narratives, in story and song, in place-names and folklore may survive in tantalizing snippets. However, since most of this archive disappears with the forest, a combination of myth and mystery is the common legacy. In the case of Glenconkeyne sufficient factual reportage survives, though scattered through medieval and early modern documents, to elucidate its former grandeur—and what became of it.2 Analysis of tree pollen from cores and the science of dendrochronology tell us that early forest history in Ireland is much like elsewhere in temperate regions. The process of landnam—clearing trees by “ring-barking” for agriculture, then moving on when the growing potential of the soil is exhausted—affected the Irish landscape from as early as six thousand years ago. The evidence is vividly exposed at Céide Fields in County Mayo, where a system of small fields, created by the first farmers, lies beneath a blanket of bog containing pine stumps, some cleared by ax and fire.3 Though fragmentary and peripheral, landnam was the beginning of a process that reflects Ireland’s uninterrupted preoccupation with the pastoral way of life. Although prolonged episodes of population collapse and natural climate change allowed the forest to return, the steady growth of an essentially rural population resulted in the “opening up” of the country by the end of the Bronze Age, some 2,500 years ago. Some upland regions, formerly afforested, were by this time rendered exposed and treeless by overgrazing: the Burren in County Clare, for instance.4 A climatic change resulting in cooler, wetter conditions subsequently thwarted farming and resulted in widespread forest reinvasion.5 The capacity to manufacture robust agricultural equipment from iron during the Celtic period and the establishment of thousands of ringfort homesteads pushed back the tree cover once again.6 Nevertheless, by the early medieval [End Page 91] period large tracts of primary and secondary forest remained, surrounding uplands, in river valleys, and in the largely inaccessible bogs.7 Abundant Old and Middle Irish references make clear that Gaelic culture included an arboreal sensitivity.8 The early Ogham alphabet, shown to be connected to tree names, may also have been an educational device. The Gaelic brehon law of neighborhood (Bretha Comaithchesa) ranks society in accordance with the usefulness and other attributes of trees.9 While a...