By John Francis Maguire, 1868
« Previous page | Start of chapter | Book contents | Next page »
CHAPTER I.
Difference of the Position of the Irish in the Old Country, and the New--Difference in the Countries--Power and Dignity of Labour--The Irish Element strong in Halifax--Their Progress--The Value of a 'Lot'--No Snobbishness--The Secret of Prosperity--The Poor's Asylum--Cause of Poverty--Catholic Church in Nova Scotia--'Sick Calls'--A Martyr to Duty--No State Church--Real Religious Equality--Its Advantages--Pictou--My Friend Peter--Peter shows me the Lions--At the Mines--Irish everywhere--A Family Party--Nova Scotia as a Home for Emigrants.
CROSSING the Atlantic, and landing at any city of the American seaboard, one is enabled, almost at a glance, to recognise the marked difference between the position of the Irish race in the old country and in the new. Nor is the condition of the Irish at both sides of the ocean more marked in its dissimilarity than are the circumstances and characteristics of the country from which they emigrated and the country to which they have come. In the old country, stagnation, retrogression, if not actual decay--in the new, life, movement, progress; in the one, depression, want of confidence, dark apprehension of the future--in the other, energy, self-reliance, and a perpetual looking forward to a grander development and a more glorious destiny. That the tone of the public mind of America should be self-reliant and even boastful, is natural in a country of brief but pregnant history--a country still in its infancy, when compared with European States, but possessing, in the fullest sense, the strength and vigour of manhood--manhood in all its freshness of youth and buoyancy of hope.
In such a country man is most conscious of his value: he is the architect of his country's greatness, the author of her civilisation, the miracle-worker by whom all has been or can be accomplished. Where a few years since a forest waved in mournful grandeur, there are cultivated fields, blooming orchards, comfortable homesteads, cheerful hamlets--churches, schools, civilisation; where but the other day a few huts stood on a river's bank, by the shore of a lake, or on some estuary of the sea, swelling domes and lofty spires and broad porticoes now meet the eye; and the waters but recently skimmed by the light bark of the Indian are ploughed into foam by countless steamers. And the same man who performed these miracles of a few years since--of yesterday--has the same power of to-morrow achieving the same wondrous results of patience and energy, courage and skill. But for him, and his hands to toil and his brain to plan, the vast country whose commerce is on every sea, and whose influence is felt in every court, would be still the abode of savage tribes, dwelling in perpetual conflict and steeped in the grossest ignorance.
Labour is thus a thing to be honoured, not a badge of inferiority. Nor is the poor man here a drug, a social nuisance, something to be legislated against or got rid of, regarded with suspicion because of his probable motives or intentions, or with aversion as a possible burden on property. In the old countries, the ordinary lot of the man born to poverty is that poverty shall be his doom--that he shall die in the condition in which he was brought into the world, and that he shall transmit hard toil and scanty remuneration as a legacy to his children. But in a new country, especially one of limitless fields for enterprise, the rudest implements of labour may be the means of advancement to wealth, honour and distinction, if not for those who use them, at least for those who spring from their loins. Labour, rightly understood, being the great miracle-worker, the mighty civiliser is regarded with respect, not looked down upon, or loftily patronised; and though birth and position and superior intelligence will always have their influence, even in the newest state of society, still honest industry appreciates its own dignity, and holds high its head amidst the proudest or the best. Therefore America, of all countries, is the one most suited to the successful transplanting of a race which has in it every essential element of greatness--alertness and vigour of intellect, strength and energy of body, patient industry, courage and daring in battle, cheerful endurance of adversity and privation, quickness of invention, profound faith, with firm reliance in the wisdom and goodness of God, and a faculty of thoroughly identifying itself with the institutions, interests, and honour of its adopted home.
And in no city of the American continent do the Irish occupy a better position, or exercise a more deserved influence than in Halifax, which has been well described by an enthusiastic Hibernian as the `Wharf of the Atlantic.' Forming the majority of the population of that active and energetic city, they constitute an essential element of its stability and progress. This Irish element is everywhere discernible, in every description of business and in all branches of industry, in every class and in every condition of life, from the highest to the lowest. There are in other cities larger masses of Irish, some in which they are five times, and even ten times as numerous as the whole population of Halifax; but it may be doubted if there are many cities of the entire continent of America in which they afford themselves fuller play for the exercise of their higher qualities than in the capital of Nova Scotia, where their moral worth keeps pace with their material prosperity, which is remarkably great, especially when considering the circumstances under which the far greater proportion of them arrived in the new world.
Those who are well off at home do not quit it for a new country; contented with their present position, they never dream of changing it for one which is sure to be accompanied with more or less of risk or hardship. The impelling motive that has driven millions across the Atlantic, and that may drive millions more in the same direction, is the desire, so natural to the civilised man, of improving his condition, of obtaining the certain means of a decent livelihood--in a word, of making a home and a future for himself and his children. It matters little to what portion of America reference is had: the same impelling motive has added to its population, and been one of the principal causes of its progress and development. Instances there have been of people well-to-do in the old country, deliberately exchanging it for the new, chiefly with the view of turning their means to better account, and thus securing a larger inheritance for their children; but when compared with the vast tide of emigration to which America is mainly indebted for the position she this day holds among the nations, these exceptional cases constitute so infinitesimal a minority as to be scarcely appreciable. The mass came because they had no option but to come, because hunger and want were at their heels, and flight was their only chance of safety. Thus the majority landed from the emigrant ship with little beyond a box or bundle of clothes, and the means of procuring a week's or a month's provisions--very many with still less. Some had education, intelligence, and knowledge of business; but of this class few had money--they crossed the ocean to secure that. Therefore, when in Halifax, as in all other parts of America, Irishmen are to be found in the enjoyment of independence, and even considerable wealth, it must be evident that their success is attributable to their own exertions and their own merit.
Halifax may be described as a city of solid prosperity and steady progress; and the Irish not only share in its prosperity, but assist in its progress. Thus, for instance, a large proportion of the houses of business, several of which would be worthy of the proudest capitals of Europe, have been established by Irish enterprise. One, the most conspicuous for its appearance and extent, is the property of perhaps the most eminent and honoured Irishman in the colony, who bringing with him from his native country, as his only capital, character, intelligence, and industry, has not only realised a splendid fortune, but enjoys a reputation for worth and probity which is the pride of his countrymen. In the rapid conversion of Halifax from a city of timber to a city of brick and stone, the Irish have their full share. Splendid 'stores'--'shops' in the old country --and handsome mansions have been erected by Irishmen; and where the Irish trader adheres to the old place of business or the modest dwelling, it is not because he wants the means of erecting something striking or costly, but that he lacks the inclination to do so, and prefers the simplicity which he associates with his success, and deems indispensable to his comfort.
In Halifax, as throughout America, the Irish necessarily form the large proportion of the working population; and when these men landed on the wharf, they had nothing save the implements of their craft, or the capacity and willingness for labour. But whether skilled mechanics, or mere day-labourers, their condition is, on the whole, admirable; and the best proof of their good conduct is the possession by a considerable number of them of that which, throughout the British Provinces and the States, is the first step in advance --'a lot'--meaning thereby a piece of ground on which a house is or is to be erected.
There is a kind of magic influence in the possession of this first bit of `real estate.' An evidence of frugality and self-denial, it is an incentive to the continued practice of the same virtues. It is the commencement, and yet something more than the commencement; it may be called 'half the battle,' for the rest depends on perseverance in the same course. The house may be rude in construction, mean in appearance, miserable in accommodation, but it is a house, in which the owner and his family can live rent-free, for it is their property--`their own.' With sufficient front and sufficient depth, what is there to prevent the owner, in time, from covering the space with a fine brick house, with its attractive shop, and as many stories as he pleases to raise? Once possess the 'lot' in the town, and the rest is comparatively easy. Every year adds to its value; and if the owner cannot build a good house on it, some one else may, and the owner receives in either case an ample return for his investment. But in thousands of instances throughout America, the Irish, even of the very humblest class, possess lots on which they have erected dwelling-houses which they themselves occupy; and in every city one may daily behold a happy transformation in the character of the dwelling, wherever industry is combined with thrift and frugality. The structure of timber is replaced by a building of brick; and so the family, it may be of the mechanic, it may be of the labourer, move up in the social scale; and the superior education which their children receive enables them to improve the position their father had acquired by his good conduct and good sense. That `lot' is a wonderful friend to the Irish in America, and this the wise of them know full well.
« Previous page | Start of chapter | Book contents | Next page »