o was rapidly blackening and melting
away. The stench generally was the first indication, the withered leaf
following in a day or two.'
The terrible sufferings which ensued were complicated by some blunders
of British statesmen.
In 1845 Sir Robert Peel was Prime Minister. He imported Indian meal, and
established depots in the country, where it was sold to the people at
the lowest possible price, thus putting a complete check on private
enterprise.
In 1846 Lord John Russell was Premier. He declined to follow the example
of Sir Robert Peel, because he considered that it interfered with Free
Trade, and, reversing the policy of his predecessor, announced that he
left the importation of meal to private enterprise.
But capitalists having been alarmed, meal was not imported in sufficient
quantities, with the result that Indian corn rose to eighteen pounds a
ton, when it might have been laid in at the rate of eight pounds a ton.
Had Lord John Russell's policy come first, and that of Sir Robert Peel
subsequently, the result would have been very different.
The fight over the Corn Law question in England at the time was
decidedly an injury to Ireland, because the Protectionists minimised the
danger of famine in the winter of 1845 for fear of the calamity being
made a pretext for Free Trade.
Dealing with an unforeseen calamity of such stupendous magnitude at long
range from Downing Street entailed delay; and public relief, waiting
until official investigation had tardily reported the hardships,
suffered in the truly distressful country.
The state of things round Bantry, of which I had accurate knowledge, was
appalling. I knew of twenty-three deaths in the poorhouse in twenty-four
hours. Again, on a relief road, two hours after I had passed, on my ride
home I saw three of the poor fellows stretched corpses on the stones
they had been breaking.
The Registrar-General for Ireland, Mr. William Donelly, officially stated
that five hundred thousand one-roomed cabins had disappeared between the
census before the famine and the one after it.
Whole families used to starve in their cabins without their plight being
discovered until the stench of their decaying corpses attracted notice.
Some superstition also prevented even the children from eating the
myriads of blackberries which ripened on the bushes.
Directly the calamity was comprehended, the English poured money into
the country with unbounded generosity, but th
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