Men who walked the roads

fearpoist

I'm trying to find recollections of and information relating to people who lived their lives walking the roads of the country. Tramps, vagrants, journeymen with trades, wandering bards...
I'd like to know some more about the general history of life on the road in Ireland but specifically about the men and women who were still walking the byways in the twentieth century. In my area, south county meath, during the 80's there were still a couple of men who lived this way - sleeping in barns, fed by local households etc.

Any feedback would be great, thanks.

SugarHigh

There was a guy in waterford who up until recently lived in a barn. I think some local business man bought him a mobile home. The Christian brothers actually made a documentary showing his life and this was uploaded to youtube by a boards user(Richard Cranium). I can't find the thread he posted it in but I did find it on youtube.

I like the romantic idea of being a wanderer but this guy had a very tough life caused by drink problems.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmX3F0Raf6U

fearpoist

Thanks SugarHigh,

Good to hear that Tawdy has a place, and some comfort let's hope. I think he is probably a good example of the kind of men who were on the roads in greater numbers a generation ago.

Rarely does one hear of people who chose, in full mental health, to take to the road. One example, though, is Jim Phelan from Inchicore. He wrote about his early life in "The Name's Phelan", which I think is a great book. He is extraordinary because, unlike other authors like Jack London or George Orwell who took on the life temporarily in order to get a feel for it, Phelan chose to tramp for life.

Clareboy

Francis Kendall-Husband was an Englishman who wandered the roads of the west of Ireland until the 1970s. He was one of the last of the wandering bards. A video of him is to be found in the RTE archives.

laughter189

There is a stretch of road between New Ross and Clonroche on the N30 , and it is known as the '' Tramps Heartbreak ''

Should be some history there

SugarHigh

fearpoist wrote: »

Thanks SugarHigh,

Good to hear that Tawdy has a place, and some comfort let's hope. I think he is probably a good example of the kind of men who were on the roads in greater numbers a generation ago.

Rarely does one hear of people who chose, in full mental health, to take to the road. One example, though, is Jim Phelan from Inchicore. He wrote about his early life in "The Name's Phelan", which I think is a great book. He is extraordinary because, unlike other authors like Jack London or George Orwell who took on the life temporarily in order to get a feel for it, Phelan chose to tramp for life.

I googled Jim Phelan and came across this in a Wikipedia discussion. Nice poem.

Jim Phelan was my grandfather. He was a rogue, of that there is no doubt! I was very disappointed to see that no mention of my mother, his daughter Catherine Mary Phelan, was in evidence. He has a long line of descendents in the UK, but to us, a lot of his past is a mystery. Yes, we have the books and published articles, but mum rarely spoke of her father, as he deserted her to roam at an early age. I've read a lot of his books, and at one stage even tried to contact his widow, Kathleen, but got no response. I don't even know exactly where he is buried, or what happened to Kathleen. All the family have done a bit of detective work over the years, and slowly we've found out things. When mum died, her 'little black bag' contained letters and pictures, so that whetted our curiosity. The BBC archive of him talking is really strange to watch for me. I never met him (along with my siblings). We all knew of him, but as I said, his name was rarely mentioned when we were kids. I am the youngest of six, and between us, we have many children and grandchildren, so Jim lives on (whether he likes it or not!!!). He wrote this poem 'Drifter' while in his favourite place, the New Forest. I'm told he often said if there was one place he could settle, the New Forest would be it;

DRIFTER, BY JIM PHELAN

Myself, when a boy, was a failure at home, For I always felt wishful to ramble and roam While my family said I was fickle as foam And rebuked me in dignified high tones.. My duty in life, very plainly they showed, And good moral advice day and night they bestowed, But in spite of it all, I set out on the road And I went along, counting the milestones.

My friends all declared I should ramble no more, For I’d meet a bad end on a faraway shore, Or I’d wander and die on some desolate moor Where the crows would come picking my white bones. To comfort I’d come, in the towns I was told; A fine job and big money to have and to hold, Or to find me a wife who’d have silver and gold, But I’d rather go counting the milestones.

With nothing to buy and nothing to sell, That I roam far and near you can easily tell, And the good people everywhere taught me right well, That all drifters and vagrants were vile drones. Each sensible citizen keeps to a base, And I realise well it should be my own case To reside in a home, and to stay in one place ……..but I laugh while I’m counting the milestones.

This says a lot about Jim. Funny thing is, although I never knew him, I've always loved writing, and my hobby? Rambling!!! www.pearlsofthepeak.blogspot.com

fearpoist

Many thanks Clareboy, I will definitely dig out the stuff on Mr. Kendall-Husband.

laughter189- Tramps heartbreak, If ever a name begged a question! Thanks very much.

Sugarhigh, how's it going? That's a real find, brilliant.
It is difficult to get at an emotional impulse that led to Phelan's living the way he did. In "The Name's Phelan" he gives a sense of feeling apart, in a fundamental way. He doesn't really delve into the neuroses but its there, and its deep set.

The big absence, especially in the light of what you've brought from his grand daughter, is the impact he has on his women and children. He lived an ordinary life for a while in his teens; attended a trade school and courted women. The way things were in Dublin, he maintains, is that you went out and with a girl and she got pregnant, and a shotgun wedding followed. Or the man simply split. He says this,
"Yet, because of my fastidiousness, and the bigness of the fellow inside me who was trying to get out, even one christening-marriage or shotgun wedding would have nauseated me. With two on my hands -I drifted towards the main south road.
For long, I have considered Robert Burns a much maligned man. Only those like myself know the full inner significance of the lofty, moral, Sir-Galahad-like phrases which appear in so many of his poems, addressed to one girl or another, and generally serving as a substitute for a wedding-ring."

highburren

fearpoist wrote: »

I'm trying to find recollections of and information relating to people who lived their lives walking the roads of the country. Tramps, vagrants, journeymen with trades, wandering bards...
I'd like to know some more about the general history of life on the road in Ireland but specifically about the men and women who were still walking the byways in the twentieth century. In my area, south county meath, during the 80's there were still a couple of men who lived this way - sleeping in barns, fed by local households etc.

Any feedback would be great, thanks.

For Francis Kendall Husband, Google "the last bard" Clare's rock hostel website

Delancey

I have no direct knowledge of these wandering men though I have heard stories about them from country ' old timers ' - I've been told that many of these men were traumatised veterans of the WW1 trenches who simply could not adjust to life afterwards.

enfield

I remember being stationed with the army in Castleblayney around 1973. This man of the road would come into the pub where we would drink and do back flips for a swig of your booze, another trick he would do is...buy him a pint and he would drink it and then eat the glass. I remember a pint of Smithwicks bring broken at our table and he said " No!, dont throw it out, I'll have it." He then drank the beer, with the glass loose in the bottom and then ate the glass. He also ate light bulbs
Tom.