Every urban area has its "Characters".
These were mostly itinerant handymen, pedlars, street musicians etc., who
decided, for a variety of reasons, to "stay put." A number of them
were just poor unfortunates who had some problems, be they mental or physical,
in dealing with life. Some of these people lived from hand-to-mouth, sleeping in
the Men's and Women's Hostels and sometimes sleeping rough. The rise of the
Welfare State has all but done away with these "Characters" but, up to
comparatively recently, our city had an unusually high number of such people.
The list of "Characters" is long and here is a sample. We also give a
brief description of some of them and to introduce the list here is part of a
little poem, composed to immortalize them.
|
| The
Boer, the Bat & Tom the Rat |
| Mugs
Power & Itchiewalla |
| Chichity
Dick put up his stick |
| And
bid them all 'Good Morra.' |
We had "Mikey Moore, Mary the Rake, Ivy
Leaf, Billy the Bawler, Denny the Hock, Whack Dunphy, Ankle Socks, Stab the
Rasher, The Dummy Synnott, Harry the Horse, Horse's Head, Who ate the dog's
dinner, Holy Hogan, Pumphry, Matty the Jennett, Christy Cooney, Hannah Mooney,
Cock Up, Monkey Tricks, Lackendarra, Polish 'em off, Slip me F'ippence, Musty
Flap, Cuckoo, Switchy Dick, Mug Power, Itchy Walla, The Boer, The Bag, Tom the
Rat, Spain, Popeye, Wexford, Bawdie Bess, Bala, Micky the Mauler, Indian Meal,
The Bird Man."
The
most famous of them all was Mikey
Moore. He generally worked
with the farmers around the Knockhouse area and he was remarkable for his
sallies of wit, especially when he was 'in his cups'.
He drank all he could get his hands on but he was a decent man who worked
when he could get it, was never abusive or crude and who never cursed in his
life.
One
day, whilst walking up Barronstrand Street, he saw two fellows painting the top
of Woolworth's shop. What are ye doin', lads? he asked. One
of them said, We're paintin' the clouds with sunshine, Mikey! and Mikey
replied, Well, If I take away this ladder, ye'll be paintin yee'r arses
with iodine.
On
another occasion, when Mikey was 'skint', standing on the 'Hill' during Lent,
two fellows approached him and asked, Do you happen to know where two fella's
might get a drink? No, said Mikey, But I've a fair idea
where three fella's might get one.
Describing
a dinner he got from a rather mean farmer (who had been over generous with the
cabbage water) Mikey declared that He
had to wait for the tide to go out before he could find any meat. Another
time the same farmer asked Mikey how he found the meat to which Mikey replied I
found it behind a potato.
He
got an occasional meal with the Sisters of Mercy in Philip St. and, once, he was
asked, by a nun, how he liked his egg. Mikey
replied, With
another one.
He
also frequented the Mental Hospital, where he got occasional work.
He was sitting on the hospital wall one day when two men came through the
gates with a horse and cart full of manure.
Mikey asked them what they were going to do with the manure.
The men. thinking to get a 'rise' out of Mikey, replied, Oh,
we're going to put the manure on the rhubarb. Why,
what do you put on
the rhubarb, Mikey? to
which Mikey replied, Well,
I puts
custard on mine!
Mikey
was once asked by a tourist as to how you
could tell the difference between summer and winter in Ireland. Mikey
replied, The
rain is warmer in the summer.
A
local Baker tried to pull a 'fast one' on Mikey when he went into his shop to
buy a bun. They
are gone up a penny today Mikey,
said
the Baker.
Right said
Mikie,
I'll have one of yesterday's.
Another
character was Hannah
Mooney, an old 'Bag-woman' who was always walking the streets
shouting and roaring at all and sundry, mostly when she had too much to drink.
One of her favourite stands was outside Christchurch Cathedral (Church of
Ireland). One day a visitor to the city,
guide-book in hand, asked Hannah, Is
this Christchurch?
to which Hannah replied, It used to be,
sir, but the Protestants own it now!
There
was
Mary the Rake
who would sit on the steps of the shops in Patrick Street and curse the
daylights out of all her tormentors,
Knock
Hard
(from
a persistent knocking on the doors in Alexander Street),
Ivy
Leaf
played tunes by blowing through an ivy leaf placed in his cupped hands,
Billy
the Bawler
who was once brought to the Tramore police station on suspicion of stealing.
The sergeant said, We
have two witnesses who saw you stealing the goods.
Have
you now?
said
Billy,
Well
I have ten witnesses who didn't see
me stealing them.
Harry
the Horse
was
a small man who seemed to have the gift of bi-location.
He could, apparently, be in two places in the city at the same time,
sometimes in three or four. He was
everywhere. Harry frequented the railway
station and, for a few pence, he would drag your luggage, all over the city, on
his hand-cart. He also attended every
funeral in the city and he was never known to miss one.
Another
famous character was Holy
Hogan,
who was seen, or rather heard, at all the Masses he could physically attend.
It was a common sight to see 'Holy' running from church to church in his
quest. He had an incredibly loud voice
and he would stand at the back of the church - the best place to effect a quick
getaway - and bawl out the hymns.
There
was Christy Cooney
who had what must have been the bandiest legs in the world.
You could put a beer barrel through them.
Another
was Davey Daw.
He wore a multiplicity of coats and he went around imitating the cuckoo.
The
following two items were extracted from the book, "Spring Gardens" by
Eddie Wymberry.
STREET
ENTERTAINERS
Monkey Tricks was the most famous of all the street entertainers. He
was a rather exotic creature with his swarthy, Latin colouring. He would roll
out a large blanket on the ground and then use a bull-whip to attract the crowd
- a few cracks from it and he would have a crowd in no time. Once he had
got the crowd's attention he would lie on a bed of broken glass and invite any
two heavy men to stand on his stomach. He would eat glass and bend nails with
his hands. He was a contortionist who could put his two legs behind his head and
one of his feats was to effect an escape from a padlocked straitjacket. His area
of operations varied but his preferred spots were the Applemarket in the city
and the Promenade in Tramore.
PUB ENTERTAINERS
In our area there was a pub at the back of Heery’s
grocery shop, another one in Cullinane's and another in Geoff Powers. We
christened all the singers. There
was "Larry the Pointer, who pointed at everyone as he sang and
"Fidgety Jimmy" who, on commencing a song would proceed to open his
shirt, close his shirt, pull his braces and fix his stockings - about the only
thing he didn't do was take off his shoes. But
our favourite was a Mr. Quinlan. He
was an old retired soldier who we christened 'Mr.A.'
He would sing 'There’s an Old-A, Mill-A, by the Stream-A, Nellie
Dean-A, Where-A, we used to-A, sit and dream-A, Nellie Dean-A."
There was no end to the A’s he could put in a song
Another man was from Colbeck Street and we christened him
"Mr.That's what I'm saying.” He
would always say, "’Tis a cold night tonight, I'm saying ‘tis a cold
night tonight”, and “Well goodnight everyone, that's what I'm saying,
Goodnight everyone.” But I've
never since heard anyone like "Billy the Tenor," as we called
him. He was a small man who prided
himself on his ability to sing in Italian.
Apparently, he had stayed one time, in Portlaoise, with an Italian who
taught him the language. Smith was
his name and he worked for the Clyde Shipping Company. When
‘sloshed’, he was liable to tell everyone that he had learned Italian on his
trips abroad. The fact that the
‘Clyde’ boats sailed only to England was never questioned.
It was only years later when I discovered that Billy's Italian was home
made. However, he was extremely
popular and he would get the best of order when called on to sing. He
used to look at the crowd and say, “Tonight I am going to sing (pause), a
lovely Italian ballad made famous by the great Caruso, called (another pause),
“Fantarto Ballini.” The name
alone would excite the audience and knowledgeable fellows would nod their heads,
muttering, “Begod, this is one of his best.” Billy
would take a deep breath and then, slowly, as if from the depth of his bowels
would come a high pitched ‘F’, gradually building into a ‘Fan’,
before exploding into a “Fantarto Ballini.” On
he would continue, the veins in his neck would be bulging over his collar, “Grastampo
Gusanti.” The crowd would be going wild, here was one of their own,
mastering a foreign language. This
would last for about two minutes before the climax, which was always the same
two words, “Funiculi Funicula.”
He always got a standing ovation. Innocent days!
