In Southeast Wexford, there once was a language unlike any other in Ireland called Yola (meaning “Old”), the unique mother tongue of the baronies of Forth and Bargy for over seven centuries.
A Linguistic “Mingle-Mangle”
Born from the waves of the Norman invasion in 1169, Yola was a descendant of Middle English. However, because the people of South Wexford were geographically tucked away from the rest of the country, their speech became a living time capsule.
While it shared roots with English, German, and Dutch, Yola was a true “gallamaulfrey” of influences. It retained the grit of Anglo-Saxon and the lilt of Flemish, all while weaving in the elegance of Old French and the soul of the Irish language. By the 16th century, the historian Richard Stanihurst described it as a “checkerwise” medley, noting that the locals spoke a tongue so uniquely jumbled that a traveler would need an interpreter just to find their way!
A Language Written into the Landscape
Though Yola was declared functionally extinct by the mid-1880s, it never truly left the landscape. You can still read the history of the dialect in the names of the places themselves. In Kilmore Quay, you’ll find the famous Forlorn Point, a poetic corruption of the Yola word furloan, meaning “foreland” or “projecting point.”
The Last Echoes
The village of Kilmore Quay holds a special place in this story as the final stronghold of the language. The late Jack Devereux (d. 1998) is remembered by locals as the last true guardian of the dialect. A member of the Kilmore Carol singers and a passionate preservationist, Jack ensured the “Old” tongue wasn’t forgotten; at his memorial, the Lord’s Prayer was read in Yola, a final, resonant tribute to a vanished world.
Is Yola Really Gone?
If you listen closely to the modern Wexford accent, you’ll realize that Yola didn’t die—it just went underground. Many phrases used in local kitchens and on fishing boats today are direct descendants of the dialect:
- Raamashing: Talking sheer nonsense.
- Angish: Feeling a bit poorly or weak.
- Gaatching: Making a show of yourself or “prancing” (often used to describe flashy dancers!).
- The Gulnock: That unmistakable ache in your belly.
- Keeking: Peeping at something with one eye open.
- Vanged: The deep muscle pain felt after a grueling day of hard labor.
- Goster: To put on airs or show off.
- Bunk: To hammer something
- Wore: Seaweed
- Cawshee (or Kawshee): a heron
- Skeerane: a tern
- Barlich: Barley
- Baan-es: Beans
- Caule: Horse
- Hempeen: a small bird
- Bring-awn: Limpet
- Amain: Going well (e.g., “The work is going on amain”)
- Quare: Very or unusual (e.g., “That’s a quare big fish”).
- Chy: A small amount or a “little bit.”
- Fash: Confusion or a mess.
- Lournagh: Melancholy or sad (used in the famous Yola Song)
From the stagnant waters of a “Scunce” (dirty stagnant water) to a quiet “Drigeen” (a small drink) at the end of the day, Yola remains a “quare” and beautiful part of the Wexford identity, the reminder of a time when the “Weisefordians” turned the end of their tongues to a language all their own.
YouTube Links:
Rememberers of the Yola Language
Wexford County Council website – resources
