Buaile Mhaodhóg · Co. Wexford
The 1798 Rebellion started here on a May night. The song is the rest.
Boolavogue is a townland and a name on a map more than it is a village. A crossroads, a church, a parish hall, a graveyard, a 1798 centre, and the country running away in every direction - north to Camolin, south to Ferns, west to Enniscorthy, east to nothing in particular. Drive through and you'll wonder what the fuss is. The fuss is what happened here on the night of 26 May 1798, and the song that came of it a hundred years later.
Father John Murphy was thirty-five when he was sent to be curate of Kilcormuck parish. He had studied for the priesthood in Seville. He had told his parishioners to hand in their pikes and take the oath of loyalty. He was, by every account, a man who wanted to be left alone. Then the Camolin Cavalry came through, and the chapels of north Wexford started burning, and on the morning of 27 May Father Murphy was at the head of a column of men with pikes marching on Oulart Hill. They wiped out the North Cork Militia there. Within weeks the rebellion ran from Gorey to New Ross. By July it was over, and Murphy had been taken near Tullow, hanged and beheaded and burned in a barrel of tar.
What you see today is the cottage on the spot, a museum that has been opened and renovated and quietly closed and opened again, a fine bronze monument outside, and the church of St Mogue on the rise. The Fr Murphy Centre is the reason most people stop. The song is the reason they know to. P.J. McCall wrote it in 1898 sitting in Dublin, never having lived in Wexford, working from family stories and a centenary commission. It is one of the most famous songs in the Irish language tradition and the only reason most outsiders can place a tiny crossroads in north Wexford on the map.