THE IRISH IN AMERICA

By John Francis Maguire, 1868

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CHAPTER VII.

Woolfe Island--Jimmy Cuffe--A Successful Irishman--Simple Pat as an Agriculturist--The Land Question in Canada--Wise Policy of the Canadian Parliament--Happy Results of a Wise Policy

THERE is an island in the St. Lawrence, forming the two channels, the English and the American, through which the majestic river flows from Lake Ontario to the sea. Woolfe Island--for that is the name by which it is known--is several miles in length, and about half as many broad. It is principally occupied by Irish Catholics, who settled upon it at different periods, not very remote. For a time the land was held partly by lease, and for a term of twenty-one years--a description of tenure altogether exceptional in a country in which freehold or fee-simple, in other words, absolute ownership, is almost universal.

In other countries a lease for twenty-one years might be regarded with favour, and under certain circumstances would be considered a security for mere outlay in cultivation. It is so in Scotland; but in America, where absolute and undisputed ownership is the rule, a tenure of this limited nature is rather a discouragement than a stimulus to exertion. And it may be remarked, that by proprietors of large tracts of land, who desire to see them occupied and cultivated, letting by lease is not much approved of; they prefer to sell it in lots, on such terms as may suit both parties, and possibly enable the person who sells to turn the purchase-money to other purposes. And when land falls into the possession of creditor or mortgagee, the new owner generally finds it more convenient and profitable to get rid of it by sale than to let it by lease of whatever term, and thus assume the responsibility and incur the risk incidental to the position of a landlord. The genius of the people, the very instinct of the community, is in favour of entire and unrestricted ownership, through which alone the forests have been turned into fields of grain and pasture, and America has been civilised and peopled.

The proprietor of a vast property in Woolfe Island determined to announce it for sale; and no sooner did he do so, than the Irish tenants put forth the most extraordinary energy, in order to become the owners of their farms. It seemed as if new life had been infused into them by the hope of possessing as proprietors the land they rented as tenants; and such was the success of their exertions that they, or the great majority of them, were enabled to purchase their lots.

As the island, with the exception of such portions of it as had been cleared, was covered with forest, like most of the land of Canada, the settlers of Woolfe Island had to undergo the ordinary hardships incidental to all similar efforts; but as they were not many miles from a fine town and a good market, they possessed advantages not usual with the genuine pioneer of civilisation, who buries himself in the depths of the woods, and is himself the author of everything that follows. Still the advantages of the thriving town and the unfailing market were not unattended with countervailing risk; for the nearness of the town offered to the settlers of the island temptations which many lacked the necessary fortitude to resist. It frequently occurred that the profits of a good season were sacrificed to the fascinations of boon-companionship, and the indulgence of a passion especially fatal to the Irishman. The evil was assuming alarming proportions, when, some dozen years since, an Irish priest--the Rev. Mr. Foley--resolved to grapple with it; and so powerfully and persuasively did he plead the cause of prudence and sobriety, so strenuously did he wrestle with the veteran drinkers--the 'hard cases,' as they were called--and such was his influence with the young, that he succeeded in a short time in enrolling 800 male residents, of all ages, from the vigorous stripling to the grey-haired grandsire, in the ranks of temperance. The result was magical. Soon there was not in all Canada a more-prosperous or progressive settlement than that of Woolfe Island. The good priest died in the midst of his labours, and, as was customary, would have been buried in the Cathedral of Kingston; but so beloved was he by the people to whom he had been father and pastor, that they would not permit his honoured remains to be removed from the island; and the grave in which they rest is regarded with veneration by those who remember his holy life, and the zeal with which he watched over the temporal interests as well as the spiritual welfare of his flock. The islanders remain faithful to the advice of their pastor, and, as a consequence certain to follow from the avoidance of a fruitful cause of danger, they are happy and contented, and every year they are advancing in prosperity. The case of one of these settlers will illustrate that of many.

It is now about seventeen years since a little Irishman from Roscommon, named James Cuffe, settled in the island. Low-sized, but broad-shouldered, well-knit and vigorous as a 'four year old,' Jimmy Cuffe, like thousands of his race in America, possessed only that species of capital which may be easily carried across ocean and over mountain--which rust cannot consume nor moth devour, but which, although the wonder-worker of civilisation, is often blindly despised by those who will alone believe in bullion or bank notes;--it consisted of his strong pair of arms and his brave heart. Literally, he had not a penny in his pocket; nor indeed--at that time at least--could he `take a shine' out of his reading and writing. But so resolutely did the little Connaught man--in whose composition, it may be remarked, there was not the faintest suspicion of the Anglo-Saxon--labour at his calling, 'morning and night, early and late,' that he rapidly became a thriving man; and Jimmy Cuffe is now the proprietor in fee-simple of 800 acres of rich land, which it would be difficult to match in Roscommon; with a fine house, a stable full of good horses, spacious barns, cattle and stock of every kind--in a word, everything that the heart of any rational Irishman could desire. He drives his family to church in a spring waggon, drawn by a pair of good horses, 'as grand as the Lord Mayor of London, or as any real gentleman in the ould country.' I happened to be in Kingston the day Jimmy Cuffe came in to take up the bill on which he had raised the purchase-money for his latest acquisition of 200 acres. It was rather a large sum, but the produce of his harvest enabled him to do so without embarrassment. And Jimmy's sharp grey eye glistened, as he told how he had got along, and succeeded not only in 'making a man of himself, thank God,' but--what pleased him quite as much --in buying out the old settlers--a class rather inclined to think little of what the Jimmy Cuffes can do. It is much to be doubted if Jimmy Cuffe would change places with a lord in the old country. The lord, as is usually the case, owes his position to his ancestors--Jimmy Cuffe, under Providence, owes everything to his industry, energy, and self-denial. Possibly, in the estimation of some people, the balance of merit may be in favour of the sturdy settler from Roscommon. Thankfully be it said, there are many Jimmy Cuffes in America.

Cases of a somewhat similar nature might be multiplied to any extent, all illustrative of the manly vigour of the Irish race, and of what great things they are capable when they have a fair field for their energies.

Living near a thriving city in Western Canada is a hale and vigorous Irishman, well advanced in years, who, as a day labourer, broke stones on the public road not far from the very spot on which stands his splendid residence, one of the most elegant in the country. Like a wise man, he took the first work that offered, and it prospered with him. He rejoices in an unmistakable Irish name, smacking of the 'ould ancient kings;' and there is not in all Canada a stauncher adherent to the ancient faith. When he came out to America--more than thirty years ago--a priest was rarely to be seen near where he settled, and it was only by great effort, at no small sacrifice of time and labour, that he could avail himself of the consolations of religion; but he was determined that, above all things, he would transmit to his children the precious deposit which he had himself received from his simple but pious parents.

Between the Saturday evening, when his week's work was over, and the Monday morning, when another week of labour commenced, this devoted Catholic would constantly walk a distance of between forty and fifty miles, to attend Mass and perform the duties enjoined by his Church. And when his children grew in strength, he would make them the companions of his journey. Not a few of this good man's descendants have abandoned a home of luxury to devote themselves to a religious life, and are now diffusing among the youth of their own race and faith the lessons of piety which they learned from the lips of an honoured parent. Men of his stamp are the glory of their country.

A recent striking instance of progress made by the Irish may be mentioned. The Bishop of Kingston--Dr. Horan--in visiting a settlement, of which the first tree had been cut only five years before, was received by one hundred of the settlers, each driving his own waggon and pair of horses. Preceded by a green banner, and a band of music obtained from a neighbouring town, these sturdy Celts conducted their good Bishop in triumph into the heart of their prosperous settlement. That was a day of well-earned jubilee.

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