The Exile Breed

by Charles Egan

  ‘Why not?

  ‘Too rough. He’s asked me already. Wanted me to work with him as a ganger. Work men hard. I’ve had enough of that class of thing.’

  ‘Where does he get his men from?’

  ‘From all I hear, he sends his brother up to the Liverpool Docks and the Workhouse to find desperate fellows who’d work for any wage. And by God, he does not believe in paying any kind of decent wage. Himself and his woman, they know well how to keep wages down.’

  ‘But English fellows wouldn’t put up with that.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not English fellows. That wouldn’t suit him, not at all. It’s fellows from the West of Ireland he wants, starving and willing to work for damned little. And not speaking English, how can they get by in a foreign land? No, they have to take whatever he gives them. Himself and his woman, they know that, and they know it well.’

  ‘The West of Ireland, you say? All of it.’

  ‘No, Danny’s too smart for that. He wants fellows whose language he’d know and understand, and who’d speak the same language among themselves, but with no knowing of English. Mayo – all along the west of it. Partry, Achill, Erris…Oh God…’

  He stopped.

  ‘Yes,’ said Conaire, ‘Erris, that’s what you said. And you’re Daniel Ryan’s cousin, aren’t you?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘A brute of a man, well known along the coast of Mayo. And you are of his family.’

  ‘I am. And what of it?’

  ‘Damned if I know,’ said Conaire. ‘If I met Daniel Ryan, I’m not sure if I’d kill him or shake his hand.’

  The death toll had passed a hundred.

  Chapter 9

  Freemans Journal, Dublin, September 1847:

  What are the poor to do at this moment who have no food? Must they not plunder to support life? The Workhouses are not able to support their present inmates, all the Unions are in a state of bankruptcy. Mayo has thousands upon thousands of reclaimable acres of land; why does not the Government commence some process by which they would be brought into cultivation? Labour is cheap in Mayo. The people are most willing to work. Will a Government lavish of fine promises permit their wholesale extermination?

  John Coghlan, Parish Priest, Kilmovee

  ‘Letter for you there, Pat,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I wonder who this is.’ He saw the Stockport postmark.

  ‘Danny, by God. Now what could he want?’

  He slit it open and gave a low whistle.

  ‘Well, isn’t he the sharp one?’

  ‘What is it?’ Sarah asked.

  He gave her the letter. She read it slowly, then folded it again.

  ‘So what do you think?’ she asked.

  ‘Damned if I know,’ Pat said. ‘Danny is one of the roughest thugs alive. I’d pity any fellow working for him.’

  ‘Still, it might be better than anything else. What other choice have the poor devils got? We can’t even let them all in. You know there aren’t enough potatoes planted, and they’re going to die if they stay here. And on top of that – look at these figures. You know yourself, the Workhouse is on the edge. But the strange thing is, he’s looking for inmates from any Workhouse except Knockanure. Why is that?’

  ‘Oh, well I know the answer to that one,’ Pat said. ‘Danny doesn’t anyone here to know what he’s doing. He wants men from out west, where no-one would know him. His gangers though, they all come from Kilduff and around. They won’t be complaining, they’re doing too damned well out of it. So it’s gangers from here, navvies from the west coast.’

  ‘I thought you said his mother and father had gone over to work with him.’

  ‘So they have, and I’m sure there must have been one hell of a row once Uncle Murty worked out what Danny was up to. But it’s too late for him now.’

  ‘But – that’s horrible.’

  ‘Don’t I know it?’

  She chewed the top of her pencil, thinking.

  ‘So what will you do?’ she asked.

  ‘I could talk to Voisey about it.’

  ‘Yes. You’ll have to.’

  He pushed his chair back and took his jacket.

  An hour later he returned.

  ‘You were long enough with him,’ Sarah said.

  ‘A lot to talk about. Trinder was there too. And he couldn’t understand why we couldn’t take men from this Workhouse, and I didn’t feel I could explain Danny’s thinking all the way. But in the end he reckoned that even if Knockanure doesn’t benefit, there’s no reason the other Workhouses shouldn’t. Voisey convinced him. So they told me to go to Castlebar.’

  ‘Castlebar?’

  ‘Said I should talk to Gaffney.’

  ‘Gaffney? Who…’

  ‘He’s the fellow organised the Relief around Kilduff and Carrigard. Seems he’s moved to Castlebar now, working for the County Surveyor.’

  ‘You knew him?’ she asked.

  ‘When he set up the Relief Works around Carrigard, I did. Luke knew him better though. One way or the other, he’s the man to talk to. So what I’m planning is this. I’ll ride over to Castlebar tomorrow, see if Gaffney is there, and see what we do from there.’

  Pat left Knockanure Workhouse before dawn. He walked to the stables, where the inmate on duty saddled up a horse for him. The air was still, and he could smell the stink of the death pit, even from that distance. Then the sweetish smell from the fever sheds. There was an inmate on guard at the gate, but no one outside, so he and the horse were let out easy enough.

  As he rode past the Workhouse wall, he saw families asleep alongside. Some had blankets, some had not, but it was not raining.

  As the sun rose, he saw the potato beds were all empty. He knew the crop had been a good one, but everyone also knew that so little had been planted that it would make little difference to the hunger. Once he saw an old woman scrabbling in one of the potato beds in the distant hope that the harvesters had left one behind, but he knew there was no chance of that. Some miles later, he passed two men saving turf in a bog, clean cut sods being flung out to dry. The men were thin, but they could work well with a sleán. He saw the body beside them, and he knew at once there was another purpose.

  As he rode, he kept his face down, trying not to see what might be on the side of the road, or look into the eyes of those coming towards him. He had seen enough of that dead look in Knockanure Workhouse.

  In Castlebar, the streets were awash with human sewage, manure heaps outside many of the cottages.

  He led the horse to the Workhouse Buildings. There was a crowd close to the gates, but there were soldiers of the Inniskilling Dragoons guarding it. He passed through the people easily enough, explained his business to a lieutenant and was admitted.

  Gaffney looked up, surprised.

  ‘I know you…’

  ‘Pat Ryan. Luke’s brother.’

  ‘Of course, of course. Sit down and tell me what brings you here.’

  Pat explained. He told Gaffney about Danny, the work on the railways and the rapid expansion of railways across England. He told him of Danny’s request.

  Gaffney made an arch of his fingers. ‘Yes, yes. It’s a strange request, but it makes sense. It could certainly help us, though I still can’t understand why he would not start with Knockanure. Still, that’s his decision. How many is he looking for?’

  ‘Four hundred.’

  ‘Four hundred! What size of a contractor is he?’

  ‘A big one. It’s like I told you, Mr. Gaffney. The railway system is growing very fast in England. Danny has certainly got call for that kind of number. The question is – where should we start?’

  ‘That depends. The easiest answer would be Westport, I understand they’ve cattle ships running to Liverpool or the other English ports. But as to which would need it – the Workhouse trying to feed the most with the least – that would be Ballinrobe.’

  ‘Ballinrobe?’

  ‘Yes. It’s not that bad around the town itself, but the rest of the Uni
on is in a terrible way.’

  ‘What about Erris?’

  ‘They’re not organised at all over that way. They’re building a Workhouse, but as to when…’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Pat said. ‘So the decision is yours – the easiest, or those that need it the most.’

  ‘Since you put it that way, Ballinrobe, it has to be. God knows, they’d need to find feeding for two thousand people.’

  ‘Four hundred is what we want.’

  ‘I meant for the families.’

  ‘Danny doesn’t want families. Only men to work. The families follow later.’

  Gaffney shook his head. ‘A sharp fellow, your cousin.’

  ‘He is all that,’ Pat said.

  ‘So the next question is – how do we get a message to Ballinrobe?’

  Pat looked at him in surprise’

  ‘Write, surely.’

  ‘There might be a better way than that,’ Gaffney said. ‘I’m thinking if we sent you direct, it might have more force.’

  ‘Send me…? Now why on earth…?’

  ‘Because you know what your cousin wants better than I do, and you’d be better at persuading them. If you’re anything like Luke, you’ll have no problem. And perhaps you could take Luke with you.’

  ‘Luke’s in America.’

  Gaffney groaned. ‘Another gone. We can’t go on losing men like that for ever.’

  He hesitated, thinking.

  ‘Right, there’s two things I’ll have to do,’ he said. ‘The first is to talk with the fellows here – the County Surveyor and the rest of the County fellows – and once they approve what we’re planning, I’ll have to write directly to Trinder and Voisey and explain to them we need you more than they do. So there’ll be no need for you to go to Ballinrobe ’till then. And oh, I’m assuming you’ll do it?’

  ‘Do I have any choice?’ Pat said.

  Pat left the Workhouse buildings. As he led his horse through the gate, a group of gaunt men and women rushed it, but the soldiers held them back at the point of bayonets.

  Sometime later, as he passed the turf bog, he noticed the two men were gone. So was the corpse.

  Late in the afternoon he arrived in Knockanure. There was still no difficulty leading his horse through the gates. Men, women and children were sitting around it, but no one stirred.

  Sarah was still working by candlelight. ‘Well…?’

  ‘They’ll do it, I think. Gaffney has to clear it with the Surveyor first, then he’ll write to Voisey and Trinder.’

  Sarah looked surprised. ‘What would they have to do with Westport?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not Westport he’s thinking about. It’s Ballinrobe. And the reason he’s writing here is that he wants to borrow me for a week or two.’

  ‘Borrow you…?’

  ‘He wants me to go down to Ballinrobe, persuade them what they have to do.’

  A female inmate, dressed in the drab grey dress of the Workhouse, came in carrying a creel of turf. She poked at the logs in the fire until they blazed up, then carefully set the sods of turf on top. She went out again without a word.

  ‘But Ballinrobe…?’ Sarah said.

  ‘If he asks, I’ll have to do it. There’s nothing definite yet. Let’s wait and see.’

  Sarah leant back in her chair.

  ‘Well, while you’re waiting for that, there’s something else will surprise you. Mother’s leaving,’

  ‘Leaving!’ Pat exclaimed.

  ‘Leaving Knockanure…’

  ‘But what…When did she decide on that?’

  ‘She’d already been thinking it. She swore me to secrecy until she was sure of it.’

  ‘Secret from me even?’

  ‘I didn’t want worrying you.’

  ‘That was kind of you,’ Pat said, sarcastically. ‘But why? Why would she want to leave?’

  ‘You know yourself,’ Sarah said. ‘The Workhouse is close to bankruptcy already. I don’t have to tell you that. They’re halving her pay. That, and the fever sheds. She’s had enough – the cut in her pay was the final straw.’

  ‘But what will she do? Where will she go?’’

  ‘Westport. There’s a place for a matron in the Workhouse there.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Why would you? It was advertised in all the papers – The Telegraph, The Constitution and The Herald. She wrote, asking to be considered. They wrote back, giving her the post. They didn’t even want to meet her, just told her to go on over. Shows you how desperate they must be for good matrons.’

  ‘And what about yourself?’

  ‘Well, what about me? All this time I’ve been working for the Union for no pay at all. What difference will it make in Westport? And God knows, there might be more chances of getting some kind of paying position.’

  ‘Clerical?’

  ‘Anything. Even working in a shop in the town. They might need somebody with some ability with accounts. Who knows?’

  He sat, stunned.

  ‘And before you say it,’ Sarah said, ‘yes, it means we won’t be working together. But we’ll meet often enough, we can see to that.’

  ‘But Westport, it’s thirty miles if it’s a mile.’

  ‘And we can write, can’t we? It’s not like Winnie and Luke, is it? If I were going to America, then you’d have cause to be complaining.’

  Next day, Pat brought Sarah to Carrigard again. He was driving a donkey and cart for comfort. Winnie greeted her warmly, Eleanor standing in the background. Yes, she thought. Sarah is the one. No doubt about it now.

  When they had dismounted, Pat tied the donkey to the post by the door.

  Eleanor came up to Sarah and hugged her. ‘It’s good to see you again,’ she whispered.

  She led her inside, sat her at the table and placed a mug of buttermilk beside her. She watched as Sarah drank it, trying to appear unhurried. Sarah too was thinner than she had appeared in the summer.

  Eleanor was delighted to meet Sarah again, even if she was still not quite sure how it would all turn out. Winnie would be leaving, and Eleanor knew that her own relationship with Sarah was vital. At times she wondered if Sarah would see it the same way. How would she think of her as a mother-in-law? More important, if Pat lost his post in Knockanure, how would Sarah settle in to living and working on a small farm? So many questions. And at a time like this.

  A few minutes later, Michael came in. He sat on the bench by the back door, untying his laces.

  ‘Young Sarah, is it?’

  ‘It is, Mr. Ryan.’

  ‘Any news?’

  ‘We’ve a letter from Danny,’ Pat replied.

  ‘Have you, by God?’

  He walked across to the fire and sat on the ledge beside the pots. Pat took the letter from his pocket, and passed it to Michael. Michael glanced quickly through it.

  ‘Danny’s some lad.’

  ‘Don’t I just know it,’ Pat said.

  ‘But the real question is – what do we do now?’

  ‘That’s what I was wondering too. So I spoke to the Master. He said I should go over and talk to Gaffney about it.’

  ‘Gaffney? The fellow who was over here?’

  ‘Yes,’ Pat said’ ‘that’s the man. He’s in Castlebar now, working for the County Surveyor. Trinder told me to go over and talk to him. No one else had the time to go to Castlebar. So I went over to see him.’

  ‘And what did he say?’ Eleanor asked.

  ‘Well, Gaffney’s not against it, that’s for sure. He was a bit surprised that Danny was looking for men only, and they wouldn’t be let bring their families along, but I think he saw the sense in that soon enough. He’s reckoning Ballinrobe Workhouse might be the best to work through, they’ve the most call for it.’

  ‘We don’t hear much about Ballinrobe over here,’ Eleanor said.

  Pat was silent. Better not to mention that he might be travelling to Ballinrobe, he thought.

  Michael poked at the fire, sending clouds of sparks rising
from the turf.

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It’s good and bad, I’d say. Danny’s one tough fellow, from all we hear. Damned if I’d like to work with a fellow like that. But still, what choice do they have? The Soup Kitchens are near all gone. No Relief Works either. So what can a man do? Starve and let his family starve? That or Danny? I can’t see they’d have the choice, if they’re chosen. At least, working with Danny, they’d be fed, and have some pennies they might be able to send back to Mayo.’

  ‘Yes,’ Pat said, ‘and have Danny make a fortune for himself while he’s at it. But I agree with you, father. If a man is selected, he’s no choice, he must go.’

  Winnie sat beside Sarah. ‘How’s Knockanure?’

  ‘Not the same as across the summer,’ Sarah said. ‘They’re not sending them to Quebec anymore. Too late in the season. They might start again come April, but until then, we’re just turning people away at the gates. They can’t allow the overcrowding like they used to, it kills far too many, and they know that.’

  ‘But the Workhouse?’ Eleanor asked. ‘How can it go on now?’

  ‘God only knows,’ Pat said. ‘I’m watching the figures, there’s only two ways they can do it. One is pushing the rates collectors, see how much more they can squeeze from the landlords. But that’s fine for the likes of Clanowen, it’s the smaller landlords, they’re the ones in real trouble. The half of them are near bankrupt. The rates are double, and they’re not getting the half of their rents in. The collectors are threatening them with court action, bankruptcy, all kinds of things, but you can’t squeeze blood from a stone.’

  ‘But what else can they do,’ Eleanor asked.

  ‘Cut the running cost of the Workhouse, that’s what. The merchants won’t extend any credit, so they have to cut back on the food. Half rations the past few weeks…’

  ‘Half rations!’ Winnie exclaimed. ‘But sure they’re half-starved already.’

  ‘That’s as may be,’ Pat replied. ‘But the Workhouse – they’re hoping some little bit of food will keep them going until the winter is out.’

  Eleanor looked at Pat closely. She had little doubt that he was already thinner. As an officer of the Union, he was hardly starving, but still it worried her. Every weekend she tried to feed him better, but she knew he was reluctant to take it when the family had so little.