Biographies

Today, we have the pleasure of posting our first Glenmore character profile. This first character profile is of Martin Walsh, and is primarily from the writings of Brian Forristal, of Waterford City. Martin spent his entire life in the house where he was born in Ballylogue, Rochestown, Glenmore, on Christmas Day 1918. Martin never married, and although he had two sisters who nursed in England it is believed he never left Ireland. Hopefully, readers will share their memories or stories regarding Martin.

Editor’s Memories of Martin Walsh

I only met Martin shortly before his death when I first moved to Glenmore, but he made a lasting impression. He was constantly driving around the area in a little red van and stopped to speak to everyone he encountered along the road. I often wondered how long it must have taken him to drive the two or three miles to Glenmore Village.

One day I was asked to drop something to Martin, and found Martin cleaning coal in his yard. He explained to me that hosing off the coal dust made his coal burn hotter in his opinion. Sometime later Danny Dowling (1927-2021) was talking about a curse made by Kit Rafftis née Gahan of Rochestown. In trying to identify the Walsh family for me Danny mentioned Martin, and I related the coal cleaning. Danny laughed, took a few notes and said that Martin never held an opinion that he did not share.

Rogue or Hero? by Brian Forristal

Over Glenmore down through the years Dad and I met many characters, none more interesting than Martin Walsh of Ballilogue. Small in stature and wiry looking with a big nose he always wore a homemade woolen hat that looked like a tea cosy. He spoke with a loud booming voice and was opinionated on every subject under the sun.

While at times he was irritating he was a mine of information and a joy to listen to. Dad and himself bounced off each other, Dad knew how to rise Martin and would throw in a statement right at the right point and Martin would go mad and enter a vocal range that would send you running for cover.

He once told us that his grandfather used to read the Freeman’s Journal to the gathered masses at Ballilogue bridge on a Sunday evening. We would often meet him with his sister Maureen, she seemed to take a shine to Stephen and Seán when they were with us. Though at times Martin would give out to them if they were messing on the roadside.

On the political front Martin hated the Government no matter who was in office, always calling them “a shower of f***ing bastards.” He always played the card, “of the hard done by farmer who worked for nothing,” and could never get Government help when needed.

On the contrary he owned a large farm and from what I have heard from others he had plenty of money, though you would never tell by looking at him as his clothes looked threadbare and worn. A bit like Compo in ‘Last of the Summer Wine.’

But as a character he was witty, at times funny, never boring. He had funny sayings like:

“Cigars on a Sunday,
Woodbines on a Monday.”

He smoked Woodbines [cheapest, unfiltered, strong cigarettes available] all week and treated himself to a cigar on the Sabbath.

In 1993 he told us a saying from his father:

“Three days of easterly wind,
Would do a years’ work.”

Meaning that it would dry hay and straw and would let them get the work finished fast, otherwise it would be dragged out and hold up other jobs.

Martin died on the 6^th January 1996 aged 78. By an amazing coincidence he is buried head to toe with Dad in Glenmore graveyard. Bantering friends in life and now forever death (Brian Forristal, 8 May 2011).

Martin Walsh, In His Box

On 1 May 2021 Brian Forristal stopped and spoke with Billy Heffernan of Rochestown, Glenmore. Billy related some stories that his father Paddy Heffernan (1924-2013) had shared. At the funeral in 1974 of Tom Foran (1885-1974) of Kearneybay, Glenmore, Martin Walsh (1918-1996) commented to Paddy Heffernan that Tom Foran had been fond of the drink. “Paddy fired back that ‘if he was he never missed a day’s work with me.’ That put Martin in his box, as he could be a contrary fellow at the best of times.”

Martin Walsh—The Non-Poetic Farmer

by Brian Forristal

Arise old Martin Walsh from famed old Ballilogue,
Spring is on the air and the woods ready for the crows.
Your Tam O’Shanter is hanging in the hall, and Maureen is drying the breakfast dishes,
A long haul to the top of Sandy lane,
No time for catching fishes.
Your steel wheeled mount waits in the yard,
Your dirty little sheepdog sitting on top.

The wheeling and the dealing of a true farmer’s son,
The only thing missing was a two barrel gun.
Your grudge against rich farmers was a famous peddled line,
The bank manage could not count all your money on your vine.
Hoary talk and spitted words you despised them all around,
For you their word was sacred beyond the distant town.

Oh Martin you were one of a kind,
Your roadside manner was sublime,
Be prepared to take the flak,
How close you came to many a smack,
But I saw in you a trait of old,
Going back generations into a different fold.

Society may not bare you now
To me your voice a sacred cow,
And still heard on that roadside bare,
Graveside weeds and death like stares.

The roads are barren and now and the way foul,
No more I see you there only a mighty owl.
And Dad and I did wonder when you left
There for better men, did you foresee
You’re ending in that grave in the big glen?

Now head to toe you both lay,
Conversations flowing through,
Headstones are your pillows
The soil a blanket cruel.

But in jest you both lay there,
Away from the hard live and the public glare.
I miss you both on those roadsides
Of yesteryear where tears of joy did flow,
Good joking and good cheer.

Rest well great men of roadsides,
You have earned your long calm sleep.
The steams and woods do meet.
I will see you again along the way,
In dreams and worlds God’s and men.

(Brian Forristal, 9  April 2013)

For other Glenmore verses collected by Dick Claridge see our guest author’s page.

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We have been unable to locate a photo of Martin in his later years. If anyone has a photo of Martin that they would like to share please send it to glenmore.history@gmail.com.

Please place your memories of Martin in the comment section below or feel free to send to glenmore.history@gmail.com.

For further information on Rochestown see our post of 3 December 2023.

For other writings of Brian Forristal, see our guest author’s page. “The Tans Are Coming” and “A Place to Hide From the Black and Tans.”

To all our readers, Happy New Year!

Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh