Like the heads of the Board of Works, the Commissariat officials thought they would have had some time to arrange their various duties, appoint their subordinates, fit up their offices, such as had any, in a snug and convenient manner, and print and circulate query sheets without number; and all this in spite of their own observations and reports—in spite of this overwhelming fact, which, if they adverted to it at all, does not seem to have impressed them—namely, that they were in the middle of a great famine, and not at the beginning of it; that they were entering on the second year of it with exhausted resources, while the blight which caused it was far more general and destructive than it had been the year before; in short, that it was universal, sweeping, immediate, terrible.
The Government depôts already in existence, as well as those to be established, were only to be in aid of the regular corn and meal trade; and no supplies were to be sold from them, until it was proved to the satisfaction of the Assistant Commissary-General of the district that the necessity for so doing was urgent, and that no other means of obtaining food existed. This rule was, in some instances, kept so stringently, that people died of starvation within easy distance of those depôts, with money in their hands to buy the food that would not be sold to them. The Treasury, rather than Commissary-General Routh or his subordinates, was to blame for this; their strong determination, many times expressed, being, that food accumulated by Government should be husbanded for the spring and summer months of 1847, when they expected the greatest pressure would exist. This was prudence, but prudence founded on ignorance of the real state of things in the closing months of 1846. The dearth of food which they were looking forward to in the coming spring and summer arose fully FIVE MONTHS before the time fixed by the Government; but they were so slow, or so reluctant to realize its truth, that great numbers of people were starved to death before Christmas, because the Government locked up the meal in their depôts, in order to keep the same people alive with it in May and June! "It is most important," says a Treasury Minute—these were the days of Treasury Minutes—"it is most important that it should be remembered, that the supplies provided for the Government depôts are not intended to form the primary or principal means of subsistence to the people of the districts in which the depôts are established, but merely to furnish a last resource, when all other means of subsistence, whether derived from the harvest just got in, or from importations, are exhausted, and the depôts are, therefore, in no case to be drawn upon while food can be obtained by purchase from private parties."[163] This Minute is addressed to Sir Randolph Routh, who had written to the Treasury ten days before, pressing upon them the necessity of large and immediate purchases of corn. "We have no arrivals yet announced," he says, "either at Westport or Sligo, and the remains there must be nothing, or next to nothing. The bills of lading from Mr. Erichsen are all for small quantities, which will be distributed, and perhaps eaten, in twelve or twenty-four hours after their arrival. It would require a thousand tons to make an impression, and that only a temporary one. Our salvation of the depôt system is in the importation of a large supply. These small shipments are only drops in the ocean." And further on in the same letter: "We began our operations on the 1st of September or thereabouts; and here, in the midst of harvest, before any Commissariat arrangement for supplies from abroad could be matured, we find the country besieging our depôt for food, and scarcely a proprietor stirring in their behalf."[164]
Government depôts were only to be established where it was probable that private enterprise would not offer a sufficient quantity of food for sale. On this principle, the north, east, and south were left to be supplied through the usual channels of commerce; the depôt system being confined to the west coast. What was meant precisely by the west coast does not seem to have been settled at the outset, but in answer to an enquiry from Sir R. Routh on the subject, the Treasury, on the 31st of October, defined it to be the country to the west of the Shannon, with the County Donegal to the north, and Kerry to the south, with a small corner of Cork, as far as Skibbereen, because that town was on the western coast.[165]
We have seen the rapid increase of labourers on the Relief Works from October to December, yet famine was always far ahead of the Government. Their arrangements for the first famine year were made with reference to the closing of all operations at harvest time, in 1846, but there was no harvest that year for the poor; their crop had vanished before the destroyer, and they were actually worse off at the end of August, 1846, than they had been since the beginning of the Potato Blight. In that year, the potatoes never came to maturity at all, and any that were thought worth the labour of digging, were hurried to market, and sold for any price they fetched, before they would melt away in the owners' hands. One of the Commissariat officers asked a farmer's wife, who was selling potatoes of this kind, what was the price of them; "two pence a stone, sir," she replied, "is my price," but lowering her voice, she naively added, "to tell you the truth, sir, they are not worth a penny." Even in September—it was on the 18th of that month—a resolution was passed by the Mallow Relief Committee, that from information laid before them, and from the verdicts of several coroner's inquests, held during the previous few days, disease of the most fatal character was spreading in the districts around them, in consequence of the badness of the food purchasable by the working classes. A little later, the Rev. Mr. Daly announced to the ratepayers at the Fermoy sessions, that at the moment he was addressing them, numbers of persons were living on cabbage leaves, whose countenances were so altered, and whose whole appearance was so changed by starvation and wretchedness, that he could hardly recognise them. Lord Mountcashel, the Chairman of the sessions, on the same occasion used these remarkable words: "The people are starving; they have no employment; they require to be attended to immediately, for, starvation will not accommodate itself to any man's convenience." Nothing truer. Many landlords throughout the country made similar observations; but to all such, the representatives of the Government replied, and not without a good show of reason, that whilst landlords talked in this manner, they themselves, with rare exceptions, did nothing to employ the people, nor did they, in any way, relieve the fearful pressure upon the Public Works.
The earliest famine demonstration seems to have taken place in Westport on the 22nd of August. On that day a large body of men marched four deep, and in a very orderly manner, to Lord Sligo's residence, beside the town. They made their intention known beforehand to the inspector of police, and asked him to be present to show they had no illegal designs. They were chiefly from Islandeady and Aughagown. Lord Sligo, accompanied by some gentlemen, who were staying with him, received them at his hall door. They said they wanted food and work. His lordship assured them that he had already represented, in the strongest terms, the necessity of measures being taken to secure a supply of both, and that he would repeat his application. They seemed satisfied with this, and quietly retired.
Towards the end of September, however, the state of the country became very unsatisfactory and even alarming. The low rate of wages fixed by the Government; the high price of provisions; the closing of the Government depôts; the large quantities of corn which they saw sent daily to England, whilst they who raised it starved, were amongst the chief causes which excited the people to acts of intimidation. In several instances they went in formidable bodies to the presentment sessions, apparently under the impression that the ratepayers, there assembled, had something to do with fixing the amount of wages, which of course was a popular error. On Monday, the 28th of September, a special sessions was appointed to be held at Kilmacthomas, some fourteen miles from Dungarvan, and notices were extensively circulated the day before, by unknown hands, calling on the people to assemble at Dungarvan on that day, as the military would be away at the sessions. The avowed object of this assemblage was to seize provisions by force, or at least to lay down a scale of prices beyond which they should not be raised. The authorities had, of course, timely notice of this movement, and left a sufficient force in the town to protect it. The precaution was not an idle one, for soon after the dragoons took their departure for Kilmacthomas, about five thousand men entered Dungarvan, led by a person named Power, well known in the locality as "lame Pat." The town was guarded by sixty soldiers and fifty-four police, but in the face of such numbers, their officers considered it the best policy to stand upon the defensive, and do nothing until a breach of the peace had been committed. They, however, cautioned the people, and advised them to return to their houses; they did not take their advice, but went round to the various places in which corn was stored, and threatened the owners, if they attempted to export any of the produce they had purchased. They next proceeded to the shops where Indian meal was on sale, and uttered similar threats against the vendors if they charged more than one shilling a stone for it. Meantime Captain Sibthorpe, the officer in command of the detachment of the 1st Royal Dragoons that had gone to Kilmacthomas in the morning, finding the number of people there assembled less than he had anticipated—only five hundred or so—and being aware that a much larger body was expected at Dungarvan, asked permission from the magistrates to return to that town. At first, they were very loath to grant his request, but having at length yielded, he left forty-eight policemen for their protection, and marched his men back to Dungarvan. It was a journey of three or four hours. On their arrival they found the people under Power had concluded their preliminary business of visiting the stores and shops, and not being provided with a commissariat to supply them with rations, they were levying contributions from the bakers of the town. Seeing this, Captain Sibthorpe ordered his dragoons to ride them down, and drive them off, which they did. Some prisoners were taken, lame Pat Power, their leader, being of the number. The prisoners having been secured, Mr. Howley, the resident magistrate, addressed the people; he explained to them the illegality and folly of their proceedings, and assured them he would forward to the Government any document detailing what they considered as their grievances, provided that it was couched in respectful language; and further, that he would do all he could to have any reasonable request of theirs complied with. Upon this they retired and drew up a statement which they handed to him, and which he promised to send to the Lord Lieutenant. So far so good. The day's proceedings might be fairly supposed to have ended here—but no—what about the prisoners? The people refused to go away without them. The magistrates would not release them, but assured their comrades that their punishment should be light. This did not satisfy them, and they commenced to use violent language and to throw stones. Orders were given to clear the square, which service was performed by the dragoons, who drove them into the neighbouring streets; but as the stone-throwing was continued, the police were sent to drive them away; failing to do this, the dragoons were ordered to advance, whereupon, it is said, a shout was raised in Irish by the people to "kill them," which was followed by a shower of stones. Things began to look so critical, that Captain Sibthorpe asked permission from Mr. Howley to order his men to fire, but that gentleman refused the permission. Captain Sibthorpe then asked Mr. Howley to allow him to take that responsibility upon himself, but he still refused, saying that as an important trust had been reposed in him, he would retain that trust, and allow no firing until their lives were imperilled. The stone-throwing continued; Mr. Howley at length said to the other magistrates that there was no use in talking any more to the people, and that he must read the riot act, which he accordingly did. He then warned them of the dangerous course they were pursuing—a shower of stones was the response. Captain Sibthorpe now told Mr. Howley that he would withdraw his men from the town, unless they were permitted to fire. The order was given; the dragoons were drawn up in sections of four—each section firing in its turn. In this manner twenty-six shots were fired, each round being answered by a volley of stones. When the firing had continued for some time, the people retired from the town; they were followed by the dragoons, but entrenching themselves behind the walls and ditches, they prepared to renew the conflict, under more favorable circumstances, but the opportunity was not afforded them. It grew late—the town, at any rate, was cleared, and the success of the troops being by no means so certain upon this new battle ground they were withdrawn by the magistrates. On their return to town, they found two men had been wounded, and as usually happens in such cases, one of them had no connection whatever with the business, being a carter employed in carrying baggage for the troops. When asked how he came to be among the belligerents, having no interest in the matter, he replied, that he was under the impression the troops had orders not to fire on the people, or if they did, it should be with blank cartridge; he was confirmed in this belief by the fact, that the first four or five shots took no effect; but, "at any rate," he added, "when I saw the fun going on, I could not resist the temptation of joining in it."
The persons arrested on the occasion, fifty-one in number, were brought up for trial before the sitting barrister in about a month afterwards. All pleaded guilty, and received merely nominal punishment, with the exception of "lame Pat," their leader. He, poor fellow, was sentenced to one year's imprisonment, although he declared he had been four days and four nights living on cabbage leaves and salt, previous to his misconduct. But the saddest part of this Dungarvan tale is, that the poor carrier, whose name was Michael Fleming, died of his wounds on the 26th of October, in the Workhouse, to which he had been removed for medical treatment.
Formidable bands went about, in some portions of the country, visiting the houses of farmers, and even of the gentry, warning them not to raise the price of provisions, and also asking for employment. Notices continued to be distributed, and posted up in public places, calling assemblies of the people in various towns of the South, in order to discuss their existing state and future prospects. A notice posted on the chapel of Carrigtwohill, calling one of those meetings, warned such as absented themselves that they would be marked men, as there was famine in the parish, and they should have food or blood. The priests of the place advised and warned their flocks against those illegal proceedings, and the evils to themselves which must necessarily spring from them. This had the desired effect, and the objects contemplated by the promulgators of the notice were entirely foiled. At Macroom, crowds of working men paraded the streets, calling for work or food. Food they urgently required, no doubt, for two of those in the gathering fell in the street from hunger. One, a muscular-looking young man, was unable to move from the spot where he sank exhausted, until some nourishment was brought to him, which revived him.[166] At Killarney, a crowd, preceded by a bellman and a flag of distress, paraded the streets, but the leaders were arrested and lodged in Bridewell. In the neighbourhood of Skibbereen, the people employed in breaking stones for macadamizing the roads struck work, and marched into the town in a body, asserting that the wages they were receiving was insufficient to support them. The overseer alleged that enough of work had not been done by the men, and that task work should be introduced. Their answer was, that the stones given them to break, being large field stones, were as hard as anvils, and they could not break more of them in a given time than they had done; and that death by starvation was preferable to the sufferings they had already endured.
Those men worked some miles from Skibbereen, at a place called Caheragh, and before their arrival, the wildest rumours were afloat as to their coming and intentions. It was Wednesday, the 30th of September. At twelve o'clock on that day, the principal inhabitants met to consult with Mr. Galwey, the magistrate, as to what course they should adopt in the emergency. Whilst thus engaged, Dr. Donovan, who had been on professional duty, rode in from the country, and announced that a body of men, consisting, as far as he could judge, of from eight hundred to a thousand, appeared on the outskirts of the town. They were marching in regular order, ten deep. Twenty-two years after the event, Dr. Donovan thus narrates the cause of this extraordinary movement, and the impression made upon his mind by the terrible phalanx, on its appearance before the trembling town of Skibbereen: "Some difficulty," he says, "occasionally arose in making out the pay lists," and as the people were entirely dependent for their day's support on their day's wages, great suffering and inconvenience resulted from the slightest delay. In addition to these causes of inconvenience, supplies of food had sometimes to be procured, and on this particular occasion serious consequences had nearly resulted from the obstinacy of an official, (a Mr. H——,) a commissariat officer, who boasted of his experience in matters of the kind, during the Peninsular campaigns of the Duke of Wellington, and who refused to allow any food to be sold to the people, although ready money was offered on the spot. An additional difficulty arose when it was made known that extensive works in the neighbourhood, upon which over one thousand persons had been employed, were stopped. Great excitement was the result, and it was determined by the whole body of workmen employed upon the Caheragh relief works, to march into Skibbereen, levy contributions, and enforce compliance with their demands. About twelve o'clock in the day, a number of persons, amounting to about a thousand, marched in the direction of the town, and had nearly reached their destination before the fact was made known. I believe I was, myself, one of the first who saw the approach of those once stalwart men, but now emaciated spectres; and cannot describe adequately the interesting appearance of the body, as they marched along, bearing upon their shoulders their implements of labour, such as spades, shovels, etc., which, in the glitter of a blazing sun, produced a most surpassing effect. Immediately a most exciting scene took place. Under the apprehension that shops would be rifled, shutters were put up and doors were closed. The servants in charge of children hastened to their respective habitations, and everything denoted that a serious onslaught was unavoidable. The military force in the town amounted to seventy-five men, and by the sound of trumpet they were at once summoned to their post, and positive directions were given that under no circumstances should the invading party be allowed to enter the town. The interposition of a long schoolhouse prevented the military from being seen until the party were within twenty yards of the school. The orders were then given to prime and load, and I cannot describe what my feelings were as the clink of the ramrods clearly denoted what was likely to follow. Fortunately, the force upon this occasion was under the command of Mr. Michael Galwey, J.P., a gentleman remarkable for his firmness and courage, his kindness and humanity, and extraordinary influence among the people. When a sanguinary affray was almost inevitable, he took advantage of a temporary lull, and cried out in a stentorian voice: "Three cheers for the Queen, and plenty of employment to-morrow," a call which was immediately responded to in the best manner that the weakened vocal powers of the multitude would admit of. The threatening aspect of affairs was completely changed. Mr. G., in his own familiar phraseology, said, "H——, we must get the biscuits, and we will all then go home in good humour." No sooner said than done. The stores were opened, the biscuits were distributed, the price was paid, the effusion of blood was avoided, and this neighbourhood was saved from what in the commencement threatened to be a most fearful calamity.[167]
It may be further mentioned that the people were four hours at the entrance to the town before they finally retired, although repeatedly called upon to do so by Mr. Galwey, who had resorted to the extreme measure of reading the riot act. The people's constant reply was, that they might as well be shot as not, as they had not tasted food for twenty-four hours. Several of the neighbouring gentlemen took an active part in the day's proceedings, as well as Mr. Galwey, more especially Mr. M'Carthy Downing, the present worthy member for the county.