Shanrahan Cemetery, just outside Clogheen, is the burial place of Fr. Nicholas Sheehy. Fr. Sheehy was born in Fethard in 1728 and was Parish Priest in Clogheen. He was a friend of the ‘Whiteboys’, (a secret Irish organisation that rebelled against landlords and tithe collectors).
In 1766 Fr. Sheehy was tried in Clonmel for the murder of a John Bridge. He was convicted, and hung, drawn and quartered (a very gruesome death that I cringe at the thought of, ever since watching Braveheart). He protested his innocence to the end, and I read somewhere that, to this day, a black cloud hangs over Clonmel as a result of this wrongdoing. I can testify though that the black could only appears when I hang my washing out.
Detailed information on Fr. Sheehy can be found on Waterford Museum’s website. It’s an interesting read.
The cemetery is just outside Clogheen on the Ballyporeen Road. There’s a left turn that’s signposted, and the cemetery is on the left just before the bridge over the river. (I realise that these directions sound typically Irish, but I can promise you the journey from Clogheen is not too far).
The cemetery is well kept, with an older part (where the burial place of Fr. Nicholas Sheehy is), and a newer section for those more recently laid to rest.
A plaque in Fr. Sheehy’s memory is attached to the main gate.
There’s a lovely cobblestone path that curves gently through the graveyard.
An old, derelict cottages faces onto the old graveyard.
I think it evokes lovely thoughts of who might have lived there, and how they might have strolled down the lane on a Sunday morning to mass, or even just hopped over the wall and taken a shortcut through the headstones.
Although the cemetery is beautifully kept, I did come across this crypt which was in poor condition.
Hopefully it’s under repair at the moment.
I walked on through the irregular rows of headstones and found Fr. Sheehy’s grave just behind the church.
From there I was almost upon the newer section of the cemetery.
At this stage it had started to rain.
Rather than leave the cemetery via the main gate, I returned to the car via the small steps set into the wall near the carpark…
….and nearly broke my neck in the process.
Rain + stone = slippy surface.
I took the photo below of the River Tar before hobbling back to the car.
Before returning home I thought I’d look for the remains of Shanbally Castle, and also the Shanbally Tea Rooms.
I went on quite a drive but didn’t find the Castle ruins, and I only got to see the Tea Rooms from a distance as they’re on private land.
Scariest view of the day goes to the place in the photo below.
The red paint daubed across the walls took me completely by surprise as I cruised along the quiet rural road.
No lovely thoughts evoked here. All I could think of was Freddie Krueger.
I was going to link to a newspaper article that would probably have given an insight into the story behind the paint, but then I remembered I can’t, because of this.
You can, however, try Googling the phrase ‘repossession, land, burncourt’ and you might find a particular article appearing first in your search results.
In the meantime I’m going to grab another spoon of coffee and down it with some coke.