The Hunger by David Rees

Author:David Rees [Rees, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2018-02-08T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

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THE Scannells, the most improvident of the tenants, now had nothing left to eat. The money they had had in reserve because they were not asked for the rent was all gone. They told Anthony that unless he could pay for their fares to America they would have to go to the workhouse. “We cannot survive on the soup, your honour,” Mrs Scannell said. “It is vile. Not enough to keep body and soul together.”

“What makes you think you would be better off in the poorhouse?” Anthony asked.

“The Guardians are obliged to feed us, sir; they have the money. They have the food.”

“There is only soup. In an English workhouse you would be given tea, sugar, butter, meat, bread, milk, even potatoes. But this is Ireland.” Protecting his tenants from starvation, Anthony realized, also protected them from exposure to truth. “I haven’t the money,” he said.

“Saving your presence, you paid for Dan and Madge Leahy to go.”

Pay for one, he should pay for them all ― is that what they thought? The Scannells, he felt, were taking him for granted. But Mr Scannell knew his wife had gone too far. “Excuse herself, your honour,” he said, flopping down on his knees. “She is always after prying into business that is not her own.”

Mrs Scannell glared at him. Anthony said “Get up. Get up!” He returned to a standing position, and fidgeted with his rags. “We have nothing left, sir. Nothing.”

“Do you know what is happening in the workhouses? Clifden is shut, the inmates put out to beg and survive as best they can. Some of those people now live in caves, or holes they have dug in the bogs, and there they starve to death. Other workhouses have twice, three times, even ten times as many paupers as they were built for; the Guardians have no money to foot the bills, so there is nothing to eat and no medicines. The people inside are famished or dying of typhus; some of them are crowded four to a bed, the diseased with the healthy, and often not a stitch of clothing to cover their bodies.”

“We have heard such things, sir,” Mrs Scannell said. “But we did not believe them.”

Anthony grew impatient. “Well, you are at liberty to go and see for yourselves. And don’t say you haven’t been warned! I will get Michael to drive you there.”

“Will you tumble the cabin when we are gone?”

“No. They will not take you in; there isn’t the room. And even if there were, you’ll think your cabin a palace when you see what a Poor Law institution is like now. You’ll be back in your own place before dark; I would bet on it.”

“Palace, cabin, workhouse, what is the difference and we starving? We have to go where the food may be.”

Michael was not particularly thrilled with the job he was asked to do. Though it would not now bring on an asthma attack, he would have to handle a horse, and he still disliked the beasts.

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