Frontier and pioneer life -- Québec (Province) -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Short stories
12.--The weather is cold and showery and the poor people are most
miserable--wet, hungry, and shivering. I went to Dublin to see the
ship’s broker. He received me very smoothly and referred me to the
charterer, without whose instructions he could do nothing. The
charterer I found to be out of town; the owner of the ship lives in
Cork. I returned disconsolate. An infant died today from exposure. On
going to see about the innocent’s burial, the priest told me it was
common for ships to advertise they would sail on a day on which they
had no intention of leaving. It was done to make sure of getting all
the passengers they could pack into the vessel. They get £3 a head
from the landlords, children counting as half, and the more they can
force on board the greater their profit. His experience had been that
charterers of vessels for carrying emigrants were remorseless in their
greed, and, by bribing the officials, set the government regulations
at defiance. Scenes he had seen on the quays drew tears from all save
those whose hearts were hardened by the lust of gain.
14--The poor people are homesick and heartsick. Today a number of
them tried to get on board and take possession of the berths between
decks, which were finished yesterday. They were driven back by the mate
and the sailors. One man was brutally kicked by the mate. It seems
if the passengers got on board they would have a right to rations,
hence their being denied shelter. Some of the men have got work along
the quays, and every sixpence is a help to buy bread. Again ventured
to remonstrate with the captain. He said he had nothing to say to an
informer, referring to my visit to the government agent. I told him I
would report his conduct to Lord Palmerston, and have just written a
letter to his lordship.
15.--Matters have been going on from bad to worse. Two more children
have died from cold and want. Not a soul in the crowd has had a warm
bite since they left home. Their food is an insufficiency of bread,
which is poor sustenance to ill-clad people camped in open sheds. The
ship is ready for sea yet they will not let us go on board.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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