Travellers Rokker
HUNTING from Vanslow Smith - Journal 5
Forestry and woods have diminished now, but in the days of my youth there was enough when we went hunting. We made all our own traps and used methods that would seem primitive today. We had to keep ahead of the gamekeepers all the time and in many ways we lived a secret life because of continued persecution, quite often because of ignorance on the part of kennicks (people).
Snares were most useful to me, they were easily carried and set up. Animals are vulnerable when feeding, so to study animals was important, they having better hearing than humans. It was also important to be quiet and silent in ones movements. Rabbit snares were set at about 4 inches from the ground, securely pegged to anchor them and designed to look like surrounding grass or foliage, maybe in the run of a hedge, a circle with a slip noose that worked easily when lubricated with candle grease. For hares it had to be much bigger because they do more hopping. Pheasants or birds who live mainly on the ground surface have a much smaller noose because animals and game are cunning, so they have to be treated with respect!
We made our own snares all the time, moorhens, dabchicks, ducks and geese were in abundance, but we only hunted what we needed, money was scarce, so we lived off the land secretly. We considered wild meat was there naturally and part of it belonged to us, enough to eat anyway - but according to the law of the land we were poaching. For me now being in my eighties, that life is long gone.
One of my Dad JOHNNY HEARN's stories - from Mary Horner (Journal 6)
When I was a young boy in the 1920s, although my parents and brothers and sisters lived close by, I was brought up by my aunt and uncle, Bill and Amy Wells (nee Hearn). After being turned off Ruislip Common,in Middlesex, my family continued travelling until they eventually settled in some tiny cottages in Chiswick, West London, for Aunt Amy and many of my other aunts to work in the fields of nearby market gardens. When those market gardens closed down, they had to look further afield and found work in market gardens over the river at Barnes. Aunt Amy, together with her sister Hannah, Aunt Uni (Unetta) and another aunt also named Amy, (who was referred to as ‘”Dickie’s Amy” because she was married to Richard Hearn), regularly walked the short distance down to the River Thames just after 7 o’clock each morning. There a boatman called Mr. Parsons charged 2d each to row them across the river to work in the fields of Bessants Market Gardens, and in the evening they paid another 2d to be brought back.
They worked in all winds and weather, often with only sacks across their shoulders to keep off rain and wind, and after sitting in an exposed boat to make the return river crossing, they were glad of a good warm fire and a bowl of hot jogray (stew) when they got home. I believe their flat rate of pay then was about 8d a day, a day being from 8a.m.to 5p.m. and they had to work very hard if they wanted to earn more. Whenever possible, they supplemented their wages by bringing back some of the produce they had been working on that day, so we had a good regular supply of fresh veg.
When Aunt Uni wasn’t working in the fields, she sold flowers. With a big kipsi (basket) on her arm, she regularly caught a very early morning electric tram that ran on rails along the centre of the Chiswick High Street, up to Brentford Market to buy fresh flowers. Once home, she brought out an old black bassinet pram and with the basket perched on top, went round the streets until all the flowers were sold.
Sometimes I went out with Aunt Uni, who was a very good saleswoman, and while selling her flowers she could usually find a kind lady (or two) who would part with some old clothes that would fit me. If it was raining or drizzling, one thing that always helped their generosity, was for me to stand under a gutter or leaking pipe and get really wet, then someone would almost always take pity on me and I would come home with a nice jacket, coat or boots, and if I was VERY lucky – all three!!
HAPPY MEMORIES - from Charlie (Wag) Smith
I remember my childhood with love because we were so happy. Every year we would go away hopping in Kent. My mother and father had seven kids, 4 girls and three boys. Unfortunately they lost a baby girl called Shirley during the war when she was only 8-months old, it was before I was born so I never knew her, but I’ve got a photo of her somewhere with my mother holding her. She was a pretty little baby and it broke their hearts.
I have three sisters and two brothers, the eldest is Doomie, (real name Maria), then there’s Mary, Celia, Georgie, me and our baby brother Chrissy-boy. We are a very close-knit family, cut one of us and we all bleed! My mothers name was Sophia (although everyone knew her as Poddy) and dad’s name was Ben.
I vividly remember going to stay with my sister Doomie at Southend-on-Sea with my brother Chrissy, she had a beautiful trailer called a Bluebird. In about 1960, when I was ten and my brother Chrissy was 5 or 6 years old, I got my first real wooden guitar that Doomie bought for me, because in those days they were very expensive. My parents couldn’t afford to buy us as much as they would have loved to, but that was the way things were then, we didn’t worry about money though as we were very rich with love and happiness. Anyhow, I learned to play the guitar by myself to a fashion. As I never knew how to tune it properly until many years later, I used to tune it in what’s called ‘open tuning’ but nevertheless I could make it talk.
My mother lost a brother who was very talented; he had a beautiful voice and was very musical by all accounts. He was killed aged 29 while backing his lorry up at the gasworks in Walthamstow on the River Lea. Because his mate had a hangover, he went on his own and had nobody to see him back and he went into the river. Somehow he hit his head, which knocked him out and tragically he drowned.
The family were absolutely devastated and my mum never got over losing her big brother who she worshipped. He too had a nickname (as most travellers do), it was Doodley. Uncle Doodley left an old banjo that my granny Melvina (shortened to Veeny) gave me when I was about 11 or 12, and needless to say I mastered that too. Brother Chrissy and I were both quite talented in that respect.
Many years later me and my Chrissy formed a band called EAST 17. We made a record called ‘THE GOOD OLD JUMBLE SALE’ and ‘A ROOM FULL OF ROSES’ and we sold thousands! Then we got a recording contract and brought out a record of ‘THE GOOD OLD JUMBLE SALE’ with a brilliant song on the ‘B’ side called ‘HAPPY THE WAY I FEEL’ written by me and my Chrissy (although mostly by Chrissy!).
They actually played it on the radio,which gave us tremendous joy, as you can imagine! As some of you may know, another little outfit chorred (stole) our name ‘East 17’ and went on to great success, but good luck to them, we weren’t bothered as we had plenty of gigs and we earned good money.
Today, my brother Chrissy is still a great singer and musician in his own right and he is in great demand, as some of you who have heard him will know. I do a bit with a fellow called Neville and we don’t do too bad.
Every now and then me and my Chrissy do a gig together and wherever we play we go down a storm. We love each other to death but we can’t work together on a permanent basis because being so close, we tend to clash a bit. I have to admit that my Chrissy is a far better singer than me - but he can’t play the banjo as good as me though! Ha! ha!
My oldest brother Georgie takes after my father Benny, he is one of the best bird men in the country and is famous for it. Everyone in the bird world knows him and loves him.
All the family are now scattered all over the country. Doomie is in Suffolk, Mary is in Devon and Celia has a pub and a café in Paddock Wood in Kent. Chrissy-boy is in Sissinghurst in Kent and me and my brother Georgie are still in jolly old Walthamstow, East London.
Forestry and woods have diminished now, but in the days of my youth there was enough when we went hunting. We made all our own traps and used methods that would seem primitive today. We had to keep ahead of the gamekeepers all the time and in many ways we lived a secret life because of continued persecution, quite often because of ignorance on the part of kennicks (people).
Snares were most useful to me, they were easily carried and set up. Animals are vulnerable when feeding, so to study animals was important, they having better hearing than humans. It was also important to be quiet and silent in ones movements. Rabbit snares were set at about 4 inches from the ground, securely pegged to anchor them and designed to look like surrounding grass or foliage, maybe in the run of a hedge, a circle with a slip noose that worked easily when lubricated with candle grease. For hares it had to be much bigger because they do more hopping. Pheasants or birds who live mainly on the ground surface have a much smaller noose because animals and game are cunning, so they have to be treated with respect!
We made our own snares all the time, moorhens, dabchicks, ducks and geese were in abundance, but we only hunted what we needed, money was scarce, so we lived off the land secretly. We considered wild meat was there naturally and part of it belonged to us, enough to eat anyway - but according to the law of the land we were poaching. For me now being in my eighties, that life is long gone.
One of my Dad JOHNNY HEARN's stories - from Mary Horner (Journal 6)
When I was a young boy in the 1920s, although my parents and brothers and sisters lived close by, I was brought up by my aunt and uncle, Bill and Amy Wells (nee Hearn). After being turned off Ruislip Common,in Middlesex, my family continued travelling until they eventually settled in some tiny cottages in Chiswick, West London, for Aunt Amy and many of my other aunts to work in the fields of nearby market gardens. When those market gardens closed down, they had to look further afield and found work in market gardens over the river at Barnes. Aunt Amy, together with her sister Hannah, Aunt Uni (Unetta) and another aunt also named Amy, (who was referred to as ‘”Dickie’s Amy” because she was married to Richard Hearn), regularly walked the short distance down to the River Thames just after 7 o’clock each morning. There a boatman called Mr. Parsons charged 2d each to row them across the river to work in the fields of Bessants Market Gardens, and in the evening they paid another 2d to be brought back.
They worked in all winds and weather, often with only sacks across their shoulders to keep off rain and wind, and after sitting in an exposed boat to make the return river crossing, they were glad of a good warm fire and a bowl of hot jogray (stew) when they got home. I believe their flat rate of pay then was about 8d a day, a day being from 8a.m.to 5p.m. and they had to work very hard if they wanted to earn more. Whenever possible, they supplemented their wages by bringing back some of the produce they had been working on that day, so we had a good regular supply of fresh veg.
When Aunt Uni wasn’t working in the fields, she sold flowers. With a big kipsi (basket) on her arm, she regularly caught a very early morning electric tram that ran on rails along the centre of the Chiswick High Street, up to Brentford Market to buy fresh flowers. Once home, she brought out an old black bassinet pram and with the basket perched on top, went round the streets until all the flowers were sold.
Sometimes I went out with Aunt Uni, who was a very good saleswoman, and while selling her flowers she could usually find a kind lady (or two) who would part with some old clothes that would fit me. If it was raining or drizzling, one thing that always helped their generosity, was for me to stand under a gutter or leaking pipe and get really wet, then someone would almost always take pity on me and I would come home with a nice jacket, coat or boots, and if I was VERY lucky – all three!!
HAPPY MEMORIES - from Charlie (Wag) Smith
I remember my childhood with love because we were so happy. Every year we would go away hopping in Kent. My mother and father had seven kids, 4 girls and three boys. Unfortunately they lost a baby girl called Shirley during the war when she was only 8-months old, it was before I was born so I never knew her, but I’ve got a photo of her somewhere with my mother holding her. She was a pretty little baby and it broke their hearts.
I have three sisters and two brothers, the eldest is Doomie, (real name Maria), then there’s Mary, Celia, Georgie, me and our baby brother Chrissy-boy. We are a very close-knit family, cut one of us and we all bleed! My mothers name was Sophia (although everyone knew her as Poddy) and dad’s name was Ben.
I vividly remember going to stay with my sister Doomie at Southend-on-Sea with my brother Chrissy, she had a beautiful trailer called a Bluebird. In about 1960, when I was ten and my brother Chrissy was 5 or 6 years old, I got my first real wooden guitar that Doomie bought for me, because in those days they were very expensive. My parents couldn’t afford to buy us as much as they would have loved to, but that was the way things were then, we didn’t worry about money though as we were very rich with love and happiness. Anyhow, I learned to play the guitar by myself to a fashion. As I never knew how to tune it properly until many years later, I used to tune it in what’s called ‘open tuning’ but nevertheless I could make it talk.
My mother lost a brother who was very talented; he had a beautiful voice and was very musical by all accounts. He was killed aged 29 while backing his lorry up at the gasworks in Walthamstow on the River Lea. Because his mate had a hangover, he went on his own and had nobody to see him back and he went into the river. Somehow he hit his head, which knocked him out and tragically he drowned.
The family were absolutely devastated and my mum never got over losing her big brother who she worshipped. He too had a nickname (as most travellers do), it was Doodley. Uncle Doodley left an old banjo that my granny Melvina (shortened to Veeny) gave me when I was about 11 or 12, and needless to say I mastered that too. Brother Chrissy and I were both quite talented in that respect.
Many years later me and my Chrissy formed a band called EAST 17. We made a record called ‘THE GOOD OLD JUMBLE SALE’ and ‘A ROOM FULL OF ROSES’ and we sold thousands! Then we got a recording contract and brought out a record of ‘THE GOOD OLD JUMBLE SALE’ with a brilliant song on the ‘B’ side called ‘HAPPY THE WAY I FEEL’ written by me and my Chrissy (although mostly by Chrissy!).
They actually played it on the radio,which gave us tremendous joy, as you can imagine! As some of you may know, another little outfit chorred (stole) our name ‘East 17’ and went on to great success, but good luck to them, we weren’t bothered as we had plenty of gigs and we earned good money.
Today, my brother Chrissy is still a great singer and musician in his own right and he is in great demand, as some of you who have heard him will know. I do a bit with a fellow called Neville and we don’t do too bad.
Every now and then me and my Chrissy do a gig together and wherever we play we go down a storm. We love each other to death but we can’t work together on a permanent basis because being so close, we tend to clash a bit. I have to admit that my Chrissy is a far better singer than me - but he can’t play the banjo as good as me though! Ha! ha!
My oldest brother Georgie takes after my father Benny, he is one of the best bird men in the country and is famous for it. Everyone in the bird world knows him and loves him.
All the family are now scattered all over the country. Doomie is in Suffolk, Mary is in Devon and Celia has a pub and a café in Paddock Wood in Kent. Chrissy-boy is in Sissinghurst in Kent and me and my brother Georgie are still in jolly old Walthamstow, East London.