“We have not too much population”

Richard Allen’s account of the Famine in Ireland

Allen’s letter to William Lloyd Garrison appeared in the abolitionist newspaper The Liberator, 28 May 1847

Dublin, 3 May 1847

My Dear Garrison:

I am, as usual, driven to the last half hour, and in consequence, though I hoped to have written thee at length, must be brief.

The career of famine goes on — every where distress deepens — the little resources left in the country are gradually disappearing, and what the next three months will add to the dark catalogue, it were hard to attempt to divine. I say distress is deepening; because it is gradually extending to a class above the lowest. Amongst the numerous applications which our committee have had to attend to, during the present week, were some from worthy private individuals, asking to be supplied with the means of giving food to a number of more respectable class of farmers, who were really wanting food, but would sooner die than go amongst the crowd to the public soup shops for relief.

Disease, too, is spreading rapidly. Dysentery and fever, of a very malignant character are mowing down their thousands.

Both diseases are rapidly spreading amongst the middle and upper classes, very often ending fatally. This morning brings the account of the death of Lord Lurgan, from a fever caught on visiting the workhouse. The benevolent Doctor Traill, too, of Schull, has fallen, and others might be enumerated. Many of the best with doubtless go — but what of it? They are taken in the performance of their duty; their souls are poured out in the full tide of sympathy with their fellow-men; and may we not reverently hope, that He who thus stops short their work, in mercy taken them from a world of suffering to one of eternal reward?

With some noble exceptions — alas! I fear they are but few…

…the landlords look on, either with utter carelessness and unconcern, or apathetic indifference, at the suffering of their tenantry.

Think of a man owning thousands of acres, sending a cold refusal, when perhaps the third or fourth letter to him forces a reply, to aid in any way in keeping alive his starving tenant; or perhaps sending five pounds, with a request that all of it would be divided amongst his own tenantry; when perhaps an indefatigable little band of philanthropists would distribute twice as much at one weekly or half weekly visit amongst his tenants alone; and yet this is the picture but too generally.

But this work must soon end. The Parliament has been forced to pass a law, which will go deep into some of these absentee estates; and though the process may be slow, I trust the next five years will see the land of the country wrested out of the hands of many who have shamefully abused their trust.

On seventh day last, at the conclusion of our Yearly Meeting, a meeting was held, composed of ‘Friends’ from various parts of the country. It was deeply, painfully interesting. The accounts from some parts of the South were appalling — (the West is no better.) The landlords, taking advantage of the starving state of the peasantry, and using the plea that they cannot cultivate their land, are paying their small sums for their holdings, on condition that they shall first pull down their cottages or cabins. The effect of this is terrible.

The poor creatures soon spend the little money they receive — they wander into the towns in hundreds, locating themselves in ruined sheds, in alleys, or in the open streets.

In Dungarvan, it was stated there were hundreds. I think as many as fifteen hundred, had flocked in. A large number of them were lying in the sheds of the old potato market, while the inhabitants, terrified at the idea of the new poor law, making them a permanent burden on them, if they relieved them even temporarily, refused to do any thing for them.

A deputation of our committee, who visited that place, urged in vain the claims demanded by common humanity. All they could obtain was, the promise from two or three worthy individuals, to steal amongst them, unobserved by their fellow-townsmen, after dark, and distribute in that way a little food amongst them!

But why need I go on with the appalling detail? It is inconceivably, indescribably terrible.

But, surely, from the dark picture, the soul rises with a feeling of hope at the thought of all the sympathy our state is exciting, both far and near. A world’s sympathy is ours; for North, South, East and West, the nations are responding to the wail of our millions. Yes, my friend, out of the darkest evil comes good. How is the cause of good extending! how is the bond of universal brotherhood progressing! — how are the old narrow international boundaries becoming as nought! — how is man feeling for man as his brother, in commiserating our suffering condition! How deep this warm feeling of sympathy has entered into the hearts of thousands in your land, is abundantly testified by the acknowledgements from us sent out by this mail. Would that none of it was tainted with a brother’s unrequited toil — with a brother’s blood; but on that I have already spoke fully, decidedly.

But, surely, I may venture to utter the hope, the prayer, that those who, in your slave States, have stretched out their hands to aid our suffering myriads, may ere long be smitten with deep remorse for the wrongs they have heaped on their fellow-men at home, and that the career of sympathy for down-trodden man may spread rapidly., both at home and abroad, till oppression takes wing alike every where, and justice and freedom rule supreme.

And now, my friend, I must say farewell. Would that I could say I see bright propects for my beloved country; but, alas! I do not, though I am hopeful. Ireland, the land of oppression and famine — and yet Ireland, rich in soil to a proverb, abounding in wealth — Ireland made rich by God, but made poor by man — Ireland, with her millions of waste acres at this moment, and her people standing idle, generation after generation! We have not too much population.

You, in opening your arms to receive our famished people, are becoming strong in our weakness; you are receiving our wealth — for if the hardy sons of toil do not constitute a nation’s wealth, I know not what does. But a watchword must spread far and wide. The land — gift of the Almighty to all, must no longer be held in the grasp of the few. We want no new laws, but only the repeal of bad ones. Give Ireland’s sons the free and unrestricted right to purchase and sell her acres, and all would yet be well.

Affectionately thine,

Richard Allen