Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Previous Page
–
Next Page
OCR
IN O'DONOVAN ROSSYS TOWN.
THE BRITISH REIGN OF TERROR AGAIN.
XV.
CHRISTMAS EVE AT SKIBBERKEN,
N DECEMBER, 1846, matters seem to have come to a
climax. On the evening of the 24th (Christmas eve) I wit-
messed a scene which scarcely admits of descripti
yn that oe a Board was held at the workhouse for the
adiniasion of pau ‘The claims of the applicants were in
many cases inquired into; but, aftersome time, the applica-
tions became so numerous, that any attempt to investigate
the different cases was quite useless, and an order was then
given by the members o} Board present, to admit all
paupers, and at least to give them shelter, as but little food
was to be had.
‘*T shall never forget the scene which I that night wit-
nessed; mothers striving by the heat of their own persons,
to preserve thedives of their little ones; women stretching
out their fleshless arms, imploring for food and shelter; old
men tottering to the destination where they were to receive
shelter.
The odor from the clothes and persons of these poor peo-
ple was dreadfully offensive and the absence of active com-
viaints clearly showed that in many the hope of restoration
was not to be expected.
in roy Tisiting this scene next morning eleven human
beings wer
‘And “england teas only fee) lows away!
HER MAJESTY'S FAMINE.
I had not been an hour in Skibbereen when I was told
that I was to be serenaded and that I would be expected to
6 a speec! As soon ae it was dark several, houses were
illuminated ‘‘in honor of our American frien
After the speeches, I et several of the ‘wading men of
Skibbereen at P the hotel, and I turned the talk to the famine
of 1817, which I have always regarded as the greatest crime
that has been committed in Enrope for a hundred The
French Red Reign of Terror was a love feast compared to
Irish Black Reign of Robespierre assumes the
aspect of a philanthropist if regarded as an incarnation of
French bloodthirstiness when he is compared with Queen
Victoria regarded as the pobresentative of the British Famine
Policy in Irelan of 1847 was not
but au artifeial Famine —for Ireland that very year produced
mere food than her inhabitants could consume, I and
had been independent, or if she had had her own Parllonone
the crops would have been kept in the country and the lives
of the Feople would have been saved. gland destroyed
th the national and the legislative independ lence of Ire-
land, and therefore «h2 was responsible for the results of her
‘Tho Famine of 1817 was Her Majesty's Famine as truly as
the e Roget Navy is her Majesty's Nav.
n if the ine of 1847 bad been a naturel Famine,
Euglend should be responsible for every death by hunger
and from the diseases that were brought on by hunger in Ire-
land. It was her duty to relieve it. She is the richest
country on this planet or nt ever cursed it. It was in her
power to have kept the people alive. She preferred to hold
the hands of wounded 1 ‘Erin until the thieves had stripped hor
pass by on the other side, merica has, always
been ee teta and allowed to play the part of the Go
Samaritan.
Let it never be forgotten, in reading of the horrors
of the Famine fof 1847, that both men and nations are re
can provent, and that England was
five hours’ sail from Ire! when, from Donegal to
Cork, Irish men and women ana children were dying by' the
hundreds in every parish from hunger, and from the fever
that the Famine beckoned to assist her in the work of ex-
tispating the Irish people.
x day of retsibation wil come; and when, in her hour of
agony she calls on America to help bes we shall see in her
Calamaties the retribution of just
XVII
WHAT AN OLD NEWSPAPER TOLD.
Among my visitors was Mr. O'Hea, a prominent lawyer of
Skivbereen. He gave me a time- stained copy of the Cork
Examiner tor January 6, 1847. Ihave never read a paper
ie my life that fascinated me so much as this crumpled and
dirty old sheet. 1 suppose it must have been thrown aside
on account of # report in it of the
publication. Daniel O'Connell was present at this meeting
in Conciliation Hall, and among the speakers who addressed
it I find a Mr, 0” Hen. He is thas reporte
“Mr, O’Hea then proceeded to address the association in
order to show that the Union was the cause of the present
horrible state of the conntry; because, as he said, if there had
been a Parliament in College Green, measures would have
been taken in proper time to Provide for the calamity which
had befallen the nation.
Whether this Mr. O'Hea was a relative of my Skibbereen
friend or not Feanno’ ell but his speech shows that—like
my friend—he h vel head on his shoulders,
In Mr. O'Hea's ‘old paper there is a letter from its special
reporter, dated Skibbereen, January 4, 1847.
‘The reporter thus opens his terrible letter.
“In my last communications, I endeavored to convey to
ur readers an impression of the state and condition of (be
popalation of Skibbereen, and at the same time I admitted
ine! ficiency to afford an adequate idea of the scenes that I
then witnessed. With a conviction that the spectacles
daily beheld on that occasion could not possibly be preceeded
in the intensity of their misery, o jisease and famine,
dered more aa or general in their effects, I left the town’
anticipating that my next visit would record happier and
more gr stifyg details, and that, at the least, the minerable
wretches then afflicted would be the last victius of the ray-
ul are the cases that bespeak a
melancholy contradiction to my expectations, and fully war-
his observations, on Satar-
astonished and appailed at the alarming increase of disease in
this town within the last fortnight; and, even with my
REDPATH’S ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.
former experience, I could not form the faintest or most in-
distinct idea of such terrible destitution and ghastly mortal.
ity as I have witnessed within the last two nights.
‘In huts that T have visited. at the New Bridge and Wind-
mill Lane, at Bridgetown, and Ballingsloragh, I have seen
children reduc keletons, in some instances ; in others
bloated beyond expression by ‘hideous dropsy, and creeping
around the damp wet floors of their miserable cabins, and
like the meaner brutes of the creation, unable to stand erect,
or even articulate.
“In other hovels there were crawling, jabbering idiots,
whom disease and hunger had deprived both of strength and
reason, who regarded with orrivle apathy their own suffer-
ings and the privations of their friends, and looked with un-
eaning and inexpressive countenances on those w
proach to affard them relief.
“T would not occupy this lotter with Generalities, but for
my anxiety to convey even a faint idea of the misery that I
have witmease d; but such, I beliove, iti ‘tery tiseloss to at-
Inquire of an inbal as to the dis-
m
tress and mortality that preva in the popaintion, and the
invariable reply is that no description, however energetic—no
account, however graphic—would adequately detail the horri-
ble condition of this ill-fated population.
“Wh st made inquiries, disease, comparatively speak-
ing, was in its incipient state, and death from starvation
might occasionally elicit a remark ; but now its deadly effects
are hourly exhibited, and the disastrous results of government
inactivity and heartless political economy theories are fright-
fully illustra!
“* Now, it is too late to rescue the hundreds of diseased and
stricken wretches from destruction—their fate is sealed with-
out a hope—their earthly sufferings will speedily terminate ;
for now they are beyond relief or remedy.
And England was only five hours away !
XVIII.
DEATHS IN THE WORKHOUSE.
“<I will first allude to the mortality that pervades the Work-
house, and then ite jompt to to describe a few of the ecenes that I
witnessed last night, in the vicinity of this tow:
“There are at Dresent in the Workhouse of Skibbereen, one
thousand inmates o there ate 136 in the Fever Hos-
pital, 128 in the Tosa, and there were admitted on the
last Board day 127. of that namber seven have since
died, and up to this da: ny the Rey. Mr. Haynes has adminis.
tered the last rites of religion to thirteen more, of whose ulti-
mate recovery there is not the slightes
“ Applicants die at the tog door while soliciting adminsion ;
they expire on the roads while sta agering ioward the Workhouse.
On the last Board day one poor pped dead whilst
standing at the gate, ang another breathed We last a few min-
utes after his entrauci
And England was only fee hours away !
A SUNDAY EVENING’S CALLS.
“On last evening (Sunday) I called upon Dr. Donovan,
for the purpose of making some enquiries; and wed
a Dispensary ‘Ticket, which compelled his attendanc
a - piace it a mile and a hal two
jouse convenient
as to its precise situation, we wore directed across the fields
in a direction off the m
¢ doctor inguired of his informant « how Sullivan and
family were, "and she replied, “I believe, Sir, they are
alive yet.
“At this moment a piercing shriet came, borne on the
air, which was reechoed and 1 repeated from a dozen huts that
constituted this solitary hamlet, and again found an echo
amongst the rocks and hills surrounding it. We proceeded
through the fields in the direction of these harrowing sounds,
and after walking about an eighth of a nile, we arrived at
the house to which the Dispensary Order reterr
‘And what did we witness on entering ?
“It chills my very blood, when I recollect the heart-repd-
ing, the indescribable spectacle, that the interior of this
cabin resented
ring it we found the Hfeless body of Sullivan
trotehed « ‘ipo a little straw—pale, and emaciated—his
eyes half-closed in the sleep of death, “and his mouth gaping
horribly, for he had just expired,
@ same wretched Sop. “and covered by the sat
scanty clothing, we saw his wife expiring-—the death rattle
in her throat—her glazed eye and acer’ features betoken-
ing the sufferings of her last mortal agony,
“At the feet of theirdead and dying parents were stretched
four young and helpless children, prostrated by malignant
fover, and faint intly imploring for sowething to moisten their
ly and frantically, was the re-
maining daughter, who had three times relapsed into fever.
With an expression of grief, and fi
“Si cone of misery and distress TY believe was never
before xhibited ; it was indeed too much for m: stoicism,
for I confess I was affected to tears. To witness the husband
a perfect skeleton, still warm—to see his wretched wife ex-
tended by his side, ignorant of his fate and indiroreet to
2 be
32
B
s
os indescribable as it was deplorable.
je the house, the commiseration of the neighbors
scene as it first arrested my attention, and will be ever re.
tained i in By recollection,
‘Scattered here and there, up and down the
rocky hl are the wretched cabin that compoxe fee let
of Dri: risheen—eonstructed according to the facilities that the
barren and uneven surface afforded.
“The miserable tenants of these as miserable tenements
rushed to their doors, and, in filth, and rags, and wretched.
ness re-echoed the wild cries of despair that proceeded from
this house of desolation, while others s: sung in melancholy
strains, and with mournful cadence, one doleful though ex:
pressive words that compose the
“Such a scene enacted with aelmeboly reality in. the
clearness of a fine moonlight night, hada fearfally wild and
romantic air, and such as I never expected to witness,
“Sullivan’s wife ‘vas S corpse in half an hour after I left,
the house, and diseased and dying children were thus in one
half hour deprived of both their parents, and left helpless
and unprotected orpha:
“This was the only occasion on which, in this town, I saw
either the neighbors or relatives of deceased persons express,
y voice or appe: ATO Ce, ihe slightest concern or sorrow at the
sight of death and I make this statement without qualifica-
ion, or dread of Soutradiction
hia morning a neighbor of the deceased Sullivan applied
0 the Rev. Mr. Fitzpatrick, and requested that he would
cent his influence in procuring the loan of the horse and. car
belonging to the je workhouse, to convey Sullivan and his wife
to the place of interm
“THe horse and ear. “ore accordingly brought to the door,
and Sallivan and his wife were carried to their last home;
they were on this evening deposited in the same grave in the
Abbey Churchyard, Without ne attendance of mourners, or
e usual bewailment of fri
ey have but anticipated for a few days the fate of their
famishing and exhausted children, who will, ia all probability,
before the termination of this week, be hushed also in the
sleep of death and for ever released from thee earthly suffer.
ings.
And Englandcas only fre] leurs away.
AN IRISH COTTER’S SATURDAY NIGHT.
“The ight before last (Saturday) I was called upon by
Mr. WC. Downing, 2 visit for afew minutes, a house
at the distance of about halt a dozen doors from the hotel,
where he had accidentally heard that a child had been for
some time dead.
“On entering this miserable place, I saw an infant, three
or four years old, lying upon a pallet of rotten straw—its lit-
tle limbs extended in the rigidity of death, and its body
searesly covered by its scanty clothi
“AL farther corner of the ceabin ‘was a sick child, about
f age, who hed been for three nights obliged to
lie alongside its dead sister, and endure the cold and terror of
contact with the lifeless clay.
At on Saturday night, the hour at which I
entered, the wretched mother was absent, begging the price
of a coffin to inter her cull, and reseue her only surviving
daughter from conta
“But, 28 regards that | poor child, her solicitude was unneo-
cessary, for she is at present dying, in consequence of her
loi ong contact with the dead body, and the other privations she
the facts that I have here detailed were witnessed by Oke
M’Carthy Downing, and Mr. Gallwey, J. 2 f this town.
And England was only fice hours away
XT.
(OW THE IRISH DIED AT BRIDGETOWN.
obliged to visit last night, on his return from Drisheen, I wit-
nessed scenes of mortality and disease that defy and exceed
on my former visit, one or two members of a
family ‘vere affected by. disease, the cabins are now crowded
by the expiring victims of dxopsy dysentery.
Those that T xaw lab oring under sickness of eicher description,
when I last entered these dwellings, have in all instances ex-
pired—their bodies have been removed, and their places are
at present occupied te other victims.
in the first house that we. entered, which belonged to a
widow. woman named Sullivan, there were six children lying
down together in fever, he wretched mother unable to pro-
vide them sustenance of any description. She de
Dr, Donovan that not one of them had tasted a morsel of food
since an early ho ou the previous morning, and that they had
not a farthing or a farthing’s worth to purchase even the
smallest quantity of bread. As a matter of course, this hovel
contained but the straw on which these children lay, one the
wretched clothing that covered them during the day w
ealth, and at present constitute their only defence ‘eal
the cold al
athe hoe of Mary Swyney, two floors beyond Sulli-
yan's, I witnessed a scene, which, even in this district of
desolation, waa attended by cirenmstances of a peculiar and
6 cabin, ‘a few boards, an old
basket, a shelf, and other taslone articles, were piled together
at the distance of about three feet from the 6 wall, formin;
kind of crib, or cage. i
was confined, she having become a violent mes
and glaring ey
pulsed by the family, to escape from her confinement’ Tn th
wildest paroxyems of ber wr bread, oF
soutien pans ‘er madness she screamed for bread, or
And ‘Bngland » ‘ns only five hours away f
XXIL
oy SAD SCENES AND SOUNDS AT NEWBRIDGE.
tis beyond mY power to Geseribe the f thi: a
ing qmongst fhe pat at Newbridge. fot one di id we pa
at there was not a cal for fh t:
for hin ‘immediate teen ¢ doctor, or an urgent entreaty
tor, iy mother is ° just off’ —' Doctor, just step in
here’—"Doctor. my ts —"Doeton,
me; Tasked 3ou tetas en a are dying’ ‘Doctor, come with
“These were the sorrowful Greetings which he received at
every house, which were repeated and reiterated atevery door
in this wretched vicini
An able and wialwart t man, who told me his pame was
James Cody, solicited charity for his family, fhough he ad-
mitted they were not then sick. He told me ho bad seven
children, and that one of them had but just recovered from
fever; he said he could get employment- on the roads, but