Hugh Quigley - The Cross and the Shamrock

H >> Hugh Quigley >> The Cross and the Shamrock

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This disgraceful proceeding, so disreputable to all concerned, and so
characteristic of the fidelity with which the business of "Uncle Sam" is
managed, was not confined to the detention and destruction of the poor
orphan's letters, but to the piracy of their contents too.

There is no department of the public service in the United States so
badly managed as the post-office department. Not only do robber
postmasters continue in office after their exposure and their plunder of
money letters, but they can be bribed to convey the epistles of
individuals to interested parties, who would come at their secrets; and
thus the most sacred and secret concerns of life are liable to exposure,
and to be sold for gain. We knew a postmaster who for years continued to
rob with impunity the letters that were deposited in his "den of
thieves;" and when he was exposed and disgraced through the
instrumentality of the writer of this tale, whole bushels of letters,
directed to Ireland by poor emigrants to their fathers, wives, and sons,
were found thrown aside in a nook of his office; the sole motive for
this scandalous robbery being the plunder of the twenty-four cents paid
on the letters to free them to Europe.

Sadly did the mysterious miscarriage of his letters puzzle the ingenuous
heart of poor Paul; though he had reason to suspect, from certain hints
thrown out by Amanda, that she, somehow or other, was in possession of
their contents. On a certain day, however, a circumstance convinced Paul
that he could not now expect an answer from his letters to Father
O'Shane; for Miss Amanda had just pointed out to him a paragraph in the
newspaper stating that the Catholic priest of T---- had died of ship
fever, taken by him in the discharge of his duties among the sick of his
flock.

"God rest his soul," said Paul, raising his eyes to heaven; "he was a
good friend to us in our hour of need."

"What's that you say, Paul?" said Amanda, with a frown. "Did I not tell
you repeatedly, Paul, that it was useless to pray for the dead?"

"I know _you told_ me that often, 'Mandy; but am I bound to believe you,
when I know the church teaches me the contrary? In fact, the Bible says
it is 'a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they
may be loosed from their sins.'" (Mac. xii. 42.)

"Don't you call me 'Mandy, Paul," said the vain old maid; "my name is
Miss A-man-day."

"A-man-a-day," said Paul, with a sarcastic smile. "I beg pardon," said
he, "miss; I must guard against that blunder in future, and say
_A-man-a-day_."

"Ah, you naughty boy!" she said, catching him by the hand. "Come here to
me till I teach you the knowledge of God's word. Now, Paul, that passage
you quoted I do not find in my Bible."

"No," said Paul, "for your Bible is no other than an imperfect,
mutilated Bible, corrupted by the men who made your religion. The
Catholic church, from which the Protestants stole their piecemeal Bible,
always regarded the book of Machabeus as the inspired word of God."

"But, Paul, it is so foolish, this 'half-way house.'"

"Then, miss, you must blame God, who created it, for the folly of his
not consulting with some Protestant philosopher before he created such a
'half way.' For most certainly there was always, since the dawn of
creation, a third place; as, for example, the place where the souls of
the just were confined before Christ, who was the first to ascend into
heaven, as himself says in his gospel. Now, the Bible does not say that
this half way was 'foolish,' or abolished either. Besides, it is but
reasonable that there should be a place to purify the frail and
imperfect soul before admitting her to God's holy presence."

"Where the tree falleth, there it lieth," said she.

"Yes, fallen," said Paul, "it lieth there till it is taken away to
another place. Where the soul falleth,--that is, whether in a state of
grace or in sin,--there it will lie forever; but those who go to
purgatory die in a state of grace, and so their eternal destiny is
heaven--like those just souls who died before Christ; yet they are not
fit for heaven immediately, for 'nothing defiled can enter therein.'"

"You wrote to the priest, didn't you, to say masses for your mother's
soul in purgatory? How do you know she is there?" said Amanda,
unguardedly.

"I hope she is in no worse place," said Paul, the fire kindling in his
dark Celtic eye; "and whether in heaven or in hell,--which God
forbid!--the mass can do no harm, but tend to the honor and glory of
God, and I hope procure me and the celebrant merit. But, Amanda, how do
you know that I wrote any such request to the priest? I know you are
above reading my letters, though I should leave them open under your
eye; but I am afraid that hypocritical-looking postmaster may have kept
my letters, and given them to somebody. In Ireland, that crime deserved
hanging as a punishment; and I do not know what I would do to any body I
would detect in opening my letters, and pilfering my secrets," said he,
raising himself up.

"O, my dear Paul," said the old maid, perceiving her imprudence, "I only
guessed at the contents of your letters. We Yankees are great at
guessing, you know. Be silent; shut up, my good fellow," she added,
going over to the window. "What crowd is that there below on the road?"

An unusual sight in that part of the country now presented itself to
view. Slowly moving along the road was a crowd of men and women--the
men, as they came up, taking off their hats, and the women courtesying,
in that way that only Catholics can courtesy, to a young gentleman, who,
seated in a one-horse carriage, the top lowered down, seemed to be
engaged, as he was, in earnest conversation about some subject of an
absorbing interest to those around him. In truth, any body, even Amanda,
who never saw one, could have guessed that this personage, surrounded by
so many of the Irish railroad laborers lately settled in the vicinity,
was no other than the Catholic priest. Paul's eye, so lately kindled
into passion from the hints dropped by Amanda about the foul play
regarding his letters, became immediately subdued into composure, and,
taking out a small miniature reliquary and silver crucifix which he ever
wore on his breast, he pressed them to his lips, saying to himself,
"Glory be to God; and Mary, his virgin mother, be ever blessed. I see
the priest, if he is alive." And instantly he was over the fence and on
the road.

"There is one of 'em," said Mrs. Murphy, "your reverence; and it would
be a charity to do something for the poor children, for they were well
reared."

Paul could not, owing to the tears that rushed on him in floods, dare
for some time to join the crowd to offer his respects to the
representative of religion; and it was a full quarter of an hour before
he could say, "Welcome to these parts, your reverence."

"Thank you, my child," said the priest, reaching him his hand.

"Forgive me, sir," said the poor youth; "I can't but weep, 'tis so long
since I saw a priest or heard mass."

There was not a dry eye in the crowd as the young lad clung to the
priest's hand, embracing it, and crying aloud, "O my uncle! my uncle!"

"Take him into the shanty and calm him a little," said the stalwart
missionary. "Poor little fellow! poor child! poor child!"

"O, God help the orphan!" said Mrs. Murphy again, fearing she had not
touched his reverence's heart. "It would be the charity of God to do
something for them. The men would be all willing to subscribe."

"We will do all we can," said his reverence. "God will provide for them,
if they be what you represent. Meet me here to-morrow, at six o'clock.
We will have mass and confessions here in the shanty, as we could
procure no better place. Give word around through the entire
neighborhood. Good by for the present," said he, moving along towards
the village of S----.

"God speed your reverence," answered a hundred voices, as they returned
the adieu.

This was the first night since the death of his beloved mother, and that
was over two years, that the slightest ray of hope penetrated the
burdened but confiding soul of Paul. For himself he did not much care.
He could have escaped any day, and repudiated the iniquitous contract by
which the villanous poormaster had sold him and his brethren; but what
was to become of his younger sister and brothers? He knew how to plough,
mow, cradle, and farm it, as well as any body of his age. He knew how to
read, count, write, and even defend his religion, against all opponents,
as he did last winter at the Lyceum; but what was to become of Bridget,
Patrick, and little Eugene, who had yet many years to serve? This was
what puzzled him. But now the priest had come for the first time to this
remote region, and _he_ knew what to do, and would not desert the
orphan, for no priest ever had done so. He felt there was to be now a
change, and he felt assured that it would be for his good. "Thank God,"
said he, "I saw the priest at last. I return thee thanks, my God, and
thee, my mother in heaven, now my only mother, and I thank all the
heavenly citizens and all heaven, for this dawn of hope that I feel in
my soul. O Lord, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

Fervent and pious were the prayers offered to God on this night by Paul,
as he thanked him for having seen one in whom he could confide as a
friend, as well as because he was preparing to go to his religious
duties on the morrow. Let it not be said that it was superstition in
Paul to thank God so fervently for having permitted him once more to
converse with his priest. What can be imagined a more worthy cause for
thanksgiving than the meeting with a true friend? What better gift can
we receive from God than a friend? And who ever, in need, has failed to
find the good priest a friend in all emergencies?

CHAPTER XI.

VAN STINGEY AGAIN.--HOW HE GETS RICH AND ENDS.

After a year or two in office, our friend Van Stingey found Fortune
rather adverse to him, a thing not unusual with the worshippers of that
fickle goddess; for not only was he put out of office by the influence
of the "furren" vote thrown against him, but his farther promotion even
in the church became almost problematical. His was now a rather
unpleasant situation. He was not only defeated at the ballot box by the
"Irish element," according as Mrs. Doherty foretold, but he was in
disgrace with many of his regular church-going brethren. This latter
trial was caused by the well-known fact that a negro girl, who was put
under this _religious_ man's care by the abolitionists, and who was now
two years in his family, had just given birth to a young mulatto child
in his house. Yes, and worse; the miserable yellow thing not only was
born, and in health, under the roof of this _religious teacher_, but he
was mortified to find that it had his very nose on its face, and could
not by any possibility be fathered on any body else. Thus were the
prospects of this pious gentleman blasted in one day. He got religion,
but now it failed him. He was of the true nativist stamp in politics;
but here again his defeat was signal and complete, and all through the
suffrages of foreigners.

What was he to do for a living? He must give up religion and politics,
and take to some other pursuit. Loafing or living on his neighbors was
now impossible, as he was in disgrace with many; and besides, he had a
wife and family to support. Peddling was so common, that nothing could
now be made in that line; and besides, it took some capital to start
with--a thing that was out of the question in our ex-official's case.

The only chance now open for him was the railroad, and to the railroads
he said he would betake himself as soon as he could. On the railroad he
saw men of little talent, of less honesty, and of no capital, amass not
only a competency, but wealth, in a few years; and our official was very
anxious to try his luck in that line of business. Accordingly, when the
Northern Railroad was about to be let, Van Stingey, in company with four
others, put in their estimate, which was the very lowest, and they thus
succeeded in getting ten miles of the road. The partners of Van Stingey
were one Purse, one Mr. Kitchins, one Timens, generally called Blind
Bill, one Whinny, together with Mr. Lofin, an Irishman. They had the job
now, but had neither horses, carts, shovels, nor any of the various
implements necessary to carry on the work. A council was held among
these five worthies to see what was to be done. They had neither money,
nor means, nor credit to begin with, and how were they to fulfil their
contract? Most of them were novices in this sort of business; but there
was Mr. P. Lofin, whose experience was something, and who suggested a
plan which could not but succeed, if his advice was followed. The plan
was, that they should advertise for three thousand men and several
hundred horses, and on the strength of their advertisements, and their
certificate of having obtained such a respectable contract, try to
borrow some provisions on three months' credit.

In a few days, the public places of the cities of T---- and A---- were
posted up with large placards, and advertisements were inserted in all
the daily papers, which read thus:--

WANTED.

Three thousand men to work on the Northern Railroad at one dollar
a day of twelve hours. Men who wish to work extra time will
receive extra wages.

Wanted, also, six hundred horses to hire, at three dollars a day
for every team, on the same work.

P. LOFIN,
VAN STINGEY,
KITCHINS, & CO.

In a few days, not only did the three thousand men make their
appearance, but twice that number were now located on the site of the
proposed line. But how were so many men to live? There was some delay in
proceeding with the works, and Van Stingey and Co., having represented
themselves as very independent and wealthy contractors, said that, as
they did not like to be hard on the men, they would give them free sites
for their shanties, which the men could afterwards have without the
necessity of having to pay so much a month for their use, as was the
custom with other but less honorable contractors than Van Stingey,
Purse, Lofin, & Co.

This bait took "capitally," as Van used to say, and not only were two
hundred shanties built, but the praise of the "ginerous contractors" was
in every mouth; and "Hurrah for Lofin, Van Stingey, & Co.," became a
regular toast among the men, as they went to spend a shilling in the
company's grocery store. The shanties were now up, and the horses, three
hundred in number, all ready for work; but a week, and another, and a
third passed on, and not a sod of ground was broke on the ten miles of
our independent company's contract. Here was now a sad and alarming
spectacle. Thousands of men, women, and children, seduced into a
wilderness by the specious promises of these vile knaves; and now, after
having spent every penny they had earned for years, brought to the very
verge of starvation. Some were obliged to trade off and sell their
clothes for food; others had to open small retail groceries to keep
themselves and their neighbors from starving. The more independent in
circumstances were obliged to mortgage their horses and carts for
provisions and fodder; and all had, as far as their means went, to
patronize the new store opened by the contractors, who retailed
provisions and groceries, to those who had any thing to lose, at a
profit of one hundred and a quarter per cent. on their original cost.
For three months this was the state of things on the contract of our
_honorable_ company. Works not yet commenced, men and horses half
starving, occasional murmurs among the most knowing of the hands--which
murmurs were, however, soon allayed by the representations of the bosses
and their countryman Mr. Lofin, who pledged _his honor_ as a "gintlemon
that the whault lied intirely with the directors, and the _faurmuns_,
who refused to settle for the right uv way." The mystery was soon
cleared up by the appearance on the ground of Messrs. Van Stingey,
Lofin, & Whinny, with fifteen constables, who laid an injunction on all
the shanties, and quietly, revolver in hand, drove off the three hundred
horses to the county town, to secure those contractors in their pay for
the debt into which they brought all those men whom they got to deal in
their store, or who had any property. This is the way thousands of men
were deceived, betrayed, and robbed of all they possessed in the wide
world. And this is the way in which Messrs. Van Stingey, Timens,
Kitchins, Whinny, & Lofin supplied themselves with horses, carts,
shanties, and all other necessaries for carrying on the work according
to agreement. The plan had so far succeeded; the only question now was,
how to deprive these poor men of all legal redress, and have them
exterminated from the neighborhood. This was not difficult to effect
with poor men who were half starved, and who had to look out for work
somewhere else for the support of their families. Those men who had the
means left had quitted this cursed ground already, and Mr. P. Lofin
struck on an expedient by which others, the more bold, were soon
compelled to follow them. He proceeded some eighty or a hundred miles
into the State of Massachusetts, where he represented to several hundred
men from the part of Ireland to which himself belonged, which was
Connaught, that several of their countrymen were driven off and ill
treated by Munster men and _far-downs_, and that now they had not only a
chance of defending the _honor_ of the _province_, but, by driving off
their _far-up_ and _far-down_ enemies, they could have a year's job, and
a dollar a day.

This was enough; one thousand men immediately started for the scene of
action, breathing vengeance against their fellow-countrymen, and
determined on establishing the "anshint ghilory of Connaught." Every
unfortunate Munster or Ulster man they met on their route was knocked
down, and left senseless on the road; and shouts of victory were heard,
and shots were fired, in anticipation of the triumph that awaited them.
Lofin, the head mover in all these disgraceful scenes, now drove off to
the capital of the state; and--will it be believed?--this vile, low
wretch, who could neither read nor write, succeeded in getting the loan
of _one thousand muskets_ out of the state arsenal to enable him to
carry out his murderous and swindling scheme! A few days previous to
this, Lofin got some few boards on his work set fire to, in order to
have a case made out for the authorities, and by this means, and through
the influence of political wirepullers, he succeeded in getting the arms
of the state placed in the hands of his ignorant dupes, for the murder
of their plundered countrymen. During these troublesome times, the house
of Father Ugo, the priest of these parts, was literally besieged with
weeping women and enraged men, stating their grievances, and asking for
advice and counsel; for they had no other friend.

"Surely," said his reverence to one Hannohan, whose eight horses were
seized, and who had used some violence in defending his property,
"surely the law will not sanction such barefaced plunder. I am witness
myself of the cruelty to which many of you have been subjected by these
villanous contractors. I know the decision of the law will be in your
favor."

"Law!" said poor Hannohan. "God help us if we have to look to _law_ for
justice; go to law with Old Nick, and the court held in the low
countries! Besides, we are going to be attacked and butchered in our
beds by night. You know Mr. Lofin's men are all up and armed every
night, firing rounds, and shouting till our wives and children are
almost scared to death."

"What can I do?" said the priest. "You know I have been censured before
for interfering when some of the men were on a strike for higher wages;
and I can't expect to have any influence with such men as you have to
deal with. They are a lawless and hardened set of knaves."

"God help us, then, your reverence," said Hannohan; "I and my family may
as well go into the poorhouse or starve, if you can't influence that Mr.
Lofin, who is a Catholic, to let me have my eight horses and carts, for
I owe him not one single cent."

"He may call himself a Catholic, Mike," said Father Ugo; "but he cannot
be a Catholic, or even a believer in God's justice, if he is guilty of
all those villanies which are laid to his charge. It would be no use
for me to speak to such an abandoned scoundrel and robber as, by all
accounts, he is."

Poor Hannohan got the benefit of law, which resulted in his losing his
eight horses and carts: a warrant was issued for his capture, for
threatening the robbers of his property with chastisement. He was taken
in a few days, and lodged in prison, where he died in a fortnight of the
injuries inflicted on him by the drunken constables, who succeeded in
arresting him after a two days' chase through the woods. No doubt _the
good Catholic_, Mr. Lofin, rested quiet when he heard of the death of
this formidable opponent. And I suppose, by way of appeasing the public
indignation,--for I do not think he had any dread of the anger of
Heaven,--his name appeared, a few days after, at the head of a list of
subscriptions for the support of an orphanage in the city. And well he
might spend a little of his profits in _charitable_ objects, for he and
his partners had, by the late manoeuvre got up under Lofin's auspices,
saved not less than five thousand nine hundred dollars' worth of
property in horses, carts, harness, and shanties! We have heard of
robbers in Italy and Spain, who, after they rob and murder the rich, are
very _liberal_ to the poor, although, like your railroad-contract robber
the poor Italian brigand has not the chance of having his name published
in the newspapers, or read out from the pulpit, as a good, charitable,
and humane gentleman. Of the two charities, I think that of the obscure
brigand is the most worthy and laudable.

One Sunday evening, as Father Ugo was returning from service in the
country, where he officiated every two weeks, he came up with a large
and enraged crowd of people on both sides of the road on which he
travelled. On one side of the way about one hundred carts were placed in
a line, so as to form a rampart and protect some two hundred men, who,
with loaded muskets, crouched behind the carts as if watching for an
object to fire at. An occasional shot was fired from this rampart, and
the volley was returned slowly but deliberately from an old house in
front, on which this large body of men were making an assault. While the
priest stood at a distance, looking on at this horrid contest, he was
perceived by the people in the house, who at once despatched a messenger
to inform his reverence of the danger they were in, assailed by so many
men resolved on their extermination. At no small risk, leaving the
messenger in charge of his horse, he entered between the ranks of the
combatants, and, with crucifix in hand uplifted, he implored the
assailants, in the name of Christ, to desist from their cruel warfare,
and take some other means and time than the Lord's day for getting
possession of that old house about which the contention arose. By a
great deal of difficulty, and after a speech of an hour, he succeeded in
quelling this cruel and disgraceful riot, and before he left the ground
he had all the arms secured in one pile, and conveyed to an adjacent
farmer's house for security.

After this the work went on peacefully. Van Stingey & Co. made money,
and were now rich; the poor priest had every thing but the thanks of the
contractors for his pains, and he concluded, from his experience of
this and other railroads and public works in America, that, of all the
men living, the railroad and day laborer of this "free country" is the
most ill treated and oppressed. He has to work from dark to dark; he has
to take _store pay_ for his wages; and he has to obey the nod, look, and
arbitrary commands of the lowest, cruellest, and most brutal class of
men on earth. I ask any man, Is not this slavery? Van Stingey was now
rich--had horses, wagons, and a splendid mansion. He took another, and a
third contract, in which he was very successful. One day, however, he
was on his work, and a blast having failed to go off, Van ordered his
men to return to the dump. They refused. He stamped and swore, and then
and there discharged all the "darned paddies," who were not fools enough
to get killed. So himself and his nephew, who bossed for him, returned
to the "cut," where they were no sooner arrived than the blast went off,
and poor Van Stingey was blown into atoms.

Thus perished, at the height of his success and of his guilt, the
meanest and most worthless of the human race--the mocker and robber of
the poor, the persecutor and kidnapper of Paul O'Clery and his brethren,
the merciless swindler and defrauder of the laborer's wages, and,
finally, the hypocritical sensualist and drunkard. We boast of our
progress, and advertise, as proof of it, the number of railroads in
operation, their extent, and the rapidity of the motion over their iron
surface; but the trials, tears, labors, sufferings, and injustice which
our indifference or avarice has inflicted on those thousands of our
fellow-creatures whose hands have built them never occur to our minds or
cause us a single regret, while glorying in the advancement of our
"great country." "How can we help _that_?" answers Uncle Sam. "It is the
contractors that are unjust and cruel, and the men themselves that are
not 'wide awake enough' in allowing themselves to be so imposed upon."

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