Representative Settlements – Planned and Unplanned
Johnville

 
 
By Mary Kilfoil McDevitt
In the spring of 1860, Irish-born John Sweeny, Bishop of Saint John, obtained from the Surveyor-General of New Brunswick, for the purpose of settling his fellow Irishmen on the soil, a 10,000 – acre tract of land in northern Carleton County. The region was a remote hinterland, more than thirty miles north of Woodstock, its rolling hills carpeted with dense mixed forest, its rocky soil untouched by the plough. In a few short years, out of this wilderness sprang a viable farm community, one that survives to this day. The settlement was named JOHNVILLE, in honour of the bishop who dreamed it, long before it became a reality.
 
johnville 2
 
 The Road to Johnville


Almost exclusively, the men and women who responded to Sweeny’s call for settlers were Irish immigrants, or their children. Most were from Sweeny’s own diocese, particularly Saint John, but many others came from as far away as Maine, Massachusetts, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia and Ontario.

Though many were unprepared for the harsh realities of pioneer life, and would leave, disillusioned and disheartened, in the beginning they all saw past the obstacles to the possibilities, to the promise of a better life for themselves and their children and the vision of an independence they never dreamed of in Ireland.

The powerful forces that drew them to the upper reaches of Carleton County had their roots in events that pre-dated Sweeny’s settlement project by many years. The pioneering settlers of Johnville were part of a massive Irish immigration that fundamentally changed nineteenth century New Brunswick society. Though many fanned out into the rural areas of the province, most, lacking the resources to set themselves up on the land, stayed clustered in the cities, particularly Saint John.

Sadly, for many of these immigrants, conditions in the New World were little better than those they had left behind. Marginalized socially, economically and politically, they huddled together in ramshackle slums, eking out subsistence-level livelihoods by the sweat of their brows. With grinding poverty came the accompanying problems of disease, crime, and social unrest. The yoke of poverty turned out to be as oppressive in the New World as in the Old.

Bishop John Sweeny

Bishop John Sweeny

Heartsick over the plight of so many of his fellow-Irishmen, John Sweeny, soon to be Bishop of Saint John, organized the Emigrant Aid Society, the goal of which he saw as “conferring lasting benefits on a large class of deserving persons.” Like many of his contemporaries, Sweeny had come to believe that the path to spiritual and temporal fulfilment, and to honourable self-sufficiency, lay in a return to the land. He saw it as a way out of the cycle of poverty that fed the negative stereotypes of the Catholic Irish that were prevalent at the time.

Fired with a profound concern for his impoverished countrymen and a passionate yearning to see their dreams of a better life realized, Sweeny embarked on a “back to the land” campaign. A mesmerizing speaker, he took every opportunity to expound on his vision, travelling extensively throughout the Maritimes and New England, and even across the Atlantic. He told one such audience,

…” I have seen settlements of prosperous farmers in this country who have now arrived at comfort and independence, [though] they commenced in the heart of the forest in its natural state with little means to help them. They endured many hardships … but those who have been sober, industrious and persevering have succeeded in obtaining for themselves an honest and respectable independence.

I have seen their children grow up around them healthy and robust, inured to honest labour, and the aged parents in their declining years … see their children settled around them, independent farmers like themselves…. The labouring man who settled in the country has a house of his own, with the pure air of heaven circulating around …”1

The timing of Sweeny’s efforts was propitious. Government officials were equally desirous of establishing new settlers on the land. Legislation had recently been enacted providing more favourable conditions for land settlement and eventual ownership. The Bishop lost no time in taking advantage of this situation.

His negotiations with the Crown Land Office led to the surveying of blocks of land in several areas of the province. The first Johnville survey, carried out in May 1860, embraced some 10,000 acres in northeastern Carleton County. The positive response led to additional surveys, culminating in the Chapmanville survey in 1878, Sweeny’s attempt to relocate those who had been devastated by the Great Saint John Fire of June 1877.

No monetary payment was required for the land. It was free to any man over eighteen, not owning land already. If a man had sons eighteen or older, each of them was also entitled to 100 acres, adjoining that of his father if he so wished. Friends could petition for adjoining lots as well. Certain conditions had to be fulfilled before ownership was granted. The petitioner had to live on the land for a year, clear at least five acres in that time, plant at least three acres, and erect a log or frame dwelling no smaller than 16 by 20 feet. He was also required to do roadwork to the value of $60, at his convenience, within four years. Those terms having been met, the land was his, free and clear.

In all, 37,000 acres were surveyed and set aside for the Johnville area settlements under the aegis of the Emigrant Aid Society. Sweeny put Father Thomas Connolly, the Woodstock priest, in charge of the fledgling community. Connolly was a Saint John native, born there in 1823, the son of Irish immigrants. It was he who dubbed the place “Johnville”.

Sweeney has chosen well. Connolly not only possessed enthusiasm and sound judgement, but a practical knowledge of pioneer life as well. He welcomed the newly arrived, no doubt apprehensive, honesteaders, offering advice and encouragement. He supervised the dispersement of the lots and the layout of the roads and bridges. His assistance even extended to demonstrations of how to chop down a tree! Often he had to supplement the meagre food and clothing supplies that some of the settlers had brought with them.

Father Connolly offered the first Johnville Mass in June 1862, in a clearing in the woods, where the church would eventually stand. He even brought his choir up from Woodstock! The same year Connolly oversaw the establishment of a school – a log structure on the Gallagher farm, and the following year, designed and supervised construction of the first Johnville church. It was Connolly who suggested “a modest basket picnic” to help raise funds to outfit the new church, thus establishing a tradition that would endure for well over a century. with no political or religious infrastructure yet in place, Connolly’s hands-on involvement gave the settlement the impetus it needed to get off the ground.

The early years were hard ones. For men, women and their children, the toil was arduous and never-ending, and the amenities few. Pioneer life was not for the weak of back, of will, or of spirit. But one tree at a time, one rock at a time, one fence post at a time, homes sprang up in the heart of the forest and patches of wilderness were transformed into ordered fields – their fields. The dream began to take shape.

By October 1866, when Irish writer John McGuire visited the place with Bishop Sweeny, the population of the settlement had risen to “about 600 souls. ” McGuire reported that despite the severity of the lifestyle and the lack of physical comforts, a spirit of optimism and hope prevailed.

Of course, not everyone who came to the shores of the Monquart stayed, but each passing year brought new settlers. Census figures for 1881 showed 1204 Catholics in the Parish of Kent, ten times as many as were living there twenty years earlier. More than one out of every three people in the Parish was Irish-born.

Bound together by a common ethnicity, a shared faith and by common circumstances and aspirations, the settlement evolved into a cohesive community. Where once they had experienced alienation and scorn, they now felt solidarity and empowerment. Little attempt was made to assimilate into the broader surrounding community. Especially during the early years, they clung to their Irish customs and traditions, even their language. Visitors to the community reported that Gaelic was nearly as commonly spoken as English. Even years after their arrival, they kept abreast of events in their homeland. By keeping alive the music, the history, the literature, and above all, the faith that comprised their cultural heritage, they further strengthened the ties that bound them together.

More than eighty per cent of the original petitioners were Irish-born. Each of the four corners of Ireland was represented, but by far the greatest number of settlers hailed from the northern province of Ulster, particularly County Donegal. A high degree of inter-marriage during the formative years resulted in an intricate networking among the founding families that further strengthened the sense of community. This attachment to community was so strong that many who died far afield, and had not lived in Johnville for years, were returned there for burial. Most of the present day population are the fifth, sixth or even seventh generation of the original settlers.

Along with the various sociological ties was a profound connection to the land itself. Land was life-affirming, nurturing, and eternal. Many of them had brought a handful of Irish soil, bundled up in a handkerchief, with them to the “America.” Land was independence. It was the legacy you bequeathed to your children. To an Irishman, 100 acres must have seemed like a kingdom.

However, the single most unifying force was unquestionably their faith. The church was the focal point of the spiritual and social life of a community whose Catholicism was as much a part of their individual and collective identities as was their Irishness. One of their most immediate concerns as a community had been the establishment of a church and the procuring of a resident priest. People looked to the parish priest for leadership and guidance, not just in religious matters but temporal ones as well. From the outset, the settlement was blessed with strong, competent, spiritual men in that position, and the idea of pastor as leader was reaffirmed. In many cases, they looked upon him with fatherly affection.

Tara Hall Johnville

Tara Hall, Johnville
 
Church socials provided the community’s fiddlers, storytellers, step-dancers, thespians and orators with ample opportunity to strut their stuff. The parish priest was frequently as much an active participant in the festivities as he was a “supervisor”. These gatherings were a welcome release from the drudgery of everyday life and fortified the sense of family. Early in its development, concerts, plays, dances, recitals and political meetings became a feature of Johnville society. The annual Johnville Picnic became one of the biggest social gatherings in the county. Tara Hall, built in 1905 as a staging ground for these activities, became the heart of the community.
Residents gather at first Johnville church
 
Residents Gather at First Johnville Church
 

As with any group of people, leaders emerged, entrepreneurs took advantage of opportunities, and through hard work or good fortune, or both, men prospered. The community began to acquire the trappings of civilized society, and a social hierarchy began to take shape.

Freed from the struggle for mere survival, more and more people became interested in broadening the community’s economic, political and cultural horizons. Many of the original settlers were literate, educated men and women; many others, though lacking in formal education, emerged as natural leaders. They got involved in agricultural organizations and latched on to new developments and ideas. They were instrumental in bringing in electricity and telephone service, and were the driving force behind many of the social activities that took place. They founded organizations like the Ancient Order of Hibernians, the Johnville Debating Society, the Total Abstinence Society and the Self-Determination for Ireland League.

For some however, life on the farm lost its appeal or simply became too much of a struggle. Out-migration, particularly to neighbouring Maine, was always a factor but it became more prevalent with each succeeding generation. Those lacking the physical stamina, determination, or aptitude simply left for greener pastures. The reality fell too far short of the dream. For others, the life simply did not meet their needs.

The marble tablets and granite obelisks that stand in the shadow of the Johnville church are silent testimony to the strength and courage of those that endured, but the men and women they commemorate were not stone, but flesh and blood. They came great distances in search of a dream, leaving behind them all that was familiar and loved.

Young men and women, buried here, once gazed from the deck of a ship on aged mothers and fathers they knew they would never see again. Staring into a fire at the end of a sixteen-hour day, farmers remembered the feel and smell of the earth they tilled far away and long ago. Murmuring age-old prayers and remembered fragments of verse, they ached with yearning for family and friends.

Humming familiar refrains of melancholy lullabies, mothers rocked their babies and saw again mist-enshrouded hills and crooked stone fences, smelled peat fires, and heard the sickening thud of the evictor’s battering ram and the sound of marching feet in the night. Some could recall the pangs of a hunger so intense they clawed at the grass beneath their feet.

Take a walk through this old cemetery some wind-whipped September afternoon. Caress the rough stone and trace the outline of the worn inscriptions. Feel the pull of posterity. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you can reach across the generations and touch, not just hand to stone, but soul to soul.
___________________________________________________

[1] W.P. Kilfoil, Johnville, The Centennial Story of An Irish Settlement, Fredericton, Unipress, 1962, p. 14-15.

Reference


Kilfoil, W.P., Johnville, The Centennial Story of An Irish Settlement, Fredericton, Unipress, 1962

Church socials provided the community’s fiddlers, storytellers, step-dancers, thespians and

Irish Migration Within New Brunswick
 


There has been considerable research done on the Irish journey to New Brunswick as well as continuing studies on early Irish settler communities. However very little has been written on the years that followed and the patterns of Irish migration within the colony after initial settlement.

Many, who had settled in the towns and cities – sometimes because they could not afford the fees to petition for a land grant – eventually migrated to the rural areas – some with the lure of resettlement assistance during the 1860’s – especially those who were living in deplorable conditions in Saint John. Others, who had settled in rural areas and found their farms unproductive and non-sustainable, eventually migrated into the towns and cities where work was available.

Migration from urban settlements to the hinterland

Between 1815 and 1867, 150,000 Irish immigrants flooded into the city of Saint John – the colony’s busiest port of entry. It is estimated that between 1845 and 1847, some 30,000 arrived – almost twice as many people as were living in the city at the time1. Not all stayed of course, but enough did that in the census of 1851, the “Loyalist City” found that over half the heads of households in Saint John registered themselves as natives of Ireland.

For those who stayed in Saint John, life was difficult. Because of the sudden increase in population – especially during the 1840’s – Saint John had little or no accommodations to handle such a large influx of immigrants – and precious few services or resources to assist them.

Many were housed in sheds on the waterfront, many to be later transferred to either the Old Poor House, the Alms House or the Infirmary, later to become wards of the community or forced to subsist by begging.2

Things were not much better once these new Irish immigrants had found accommodation.

Many were forced to huddle in the waterfront slums of York Point in the city or in the wharf areas of Portland where living conditions were abominable… streets became notoriously crowded with packed tenements set between slaughter houses and tanneries. Two-thirds of the houses at York Point were even without privies, contributing to the high death rate in that area during the cholera epidemic of 1854. In Flaghers Alley, 200 people lived in conditions so bad that it was closed as being unfit for human habitation. For the majority, the only jobs available were low-paid and low-status, mainly in the lumberyards, the dockyards, foundries and construction gangs.3

Bishop John Sweeny

Bishop John Sweeny

Economic downturns in the timber industry aggravated the situation in Saint John during the 1850’s. There was little work available and no chance of saving enough cash to resettle elsewhere. Bishop John Sweeny, soon after becoming Bishop in 1861, hoped to lessen the misery of his parishioners. He was appalled at the many hardships the new arrivals were forced to endure, including the squalid living conditions and impoverished economic circumstances. He helped organize

“…the Catholic Immigration and Land Settlement Society to receive arriving immigrants and settle them on lands outside the city in country districts, and to assist those already resident in the diocese to better their situation by taking up homes outside the city and towns.”4

Through the efforts of the Immigration and Land Settlement Society, large tracts of land were purchased in rural locations for the purpose of establishing Irish settlements. It was hoped that many of the City’s Irish poor would settle in these newly created communities and afford improved circumstances as a result. Some of these settlements were:

  1. Fredericton Road (Leaman’s Hill) and Monteagle in Westmorland County – 10,000 acres
  2. Canaan – Gallagher Ridge, Westmorland County
  3. Hardwood Ridge (north of Chipman), Sunbury County
  4. Gaspereau and north of Salmon Creek, Queens County – 10,000 acres
  5. Washedemomoak/Longs Creek/Ryder Brook on the Canaan River on the overlapping Kings and Queens County – 20,000 acres
  6. Buckley Settlement (parish of Salisbury, Westmorland County) – 10,000 acres
  7. Johnville, Carleton County, named after Bishop John Sweeny – 10,000 acres

Sweenyville and Bishops Lands (now known as Terrain d’L’Éveque), north of Canaan and Gallagher Ridge) in Kent County – named after Bishop Sweeny.5

A report by the Immigrant Aid Society on conditions in these settlements in 1865 reported:


The men who went to those settlements scarcely three years ago were then no better off than those who remained behind, and they had difficulties to overcome and discouragements to conquer which men who now go to the settlements will know nothing about. They were the first to go into the wilderness; sometimes they were quite alone. They had no roads and the nearest neighbours lived miles away and could to little to help them. Now the roads are open the settlements are almost like villages and many of the settlers are already so well off that they can and do assist new settlers…. They had energy, determination and spirit, and already they are independent, – some of them even comparatively wealthy. They have farms on which no man has a claim; houses, cattle, and barns full of grain and roots.6

Many of Saint John’s poor Irish families did take advantage of the resettlement opportunities.

But most of these planned communities also had one unfortunate commonality – they were off the beaten track, isolated, plagued by poor soil conditions, and agriculturally unproductive. The odds of living well and finding prosperity through any constructive economic development, was almost impossible.7 Most of these planned communities were doomed from the start. Only one – Johnville in Carleton County – became a viable and sustainable community. Located in the middle of what was to become New Brunswick’s potato belt, it is still a rural farming community today.

Not only did Saint John see the Irish migrate out of their urban area. The economic collapse of the timber and shipbuilding industries in the 1850’s and 1860’s affected many Irish settlers in the established villages and towns. In Moncton, many of the Irish families left the settled urban areas and resettled on farmlands in Irishtown and Tankville. In Miramichi, many went up the Miramichi River and it’s tributaries to establish communities inland.

Migration from Rural Settlements into the Towns

Just as urban dwellers lusted after land in the hinterland, so did the second and third generations of rural Irish families long for a better life in town. Most Irish settlements, which in the beginning held so much promise, were found to be lacking. Bad roads and poor land found families living a life of subsistence farming. To supplement their meagre farming incomes, husbands and grown sons worked away from the farm – in the forests – or the nearby towns when work was available. It was the only way they could make ends meet.

Many of the first generation New Brunswick born Irish left home in the 1860’s to seek out a life in the American West – enticed by offers of free land. There wasn’t a family in New Brunswick that did not have a son or daughter – and often many – who left and resettled in Minnesota, Illinois, Montana, and beyond.8

For those who stayed in the province, there was little hope of sustainable farming in the Irish communities that were, in many cases, isolated from any markets or viable economies. In the western half of the province, they moved to Fredericton and especially Saint John where there was work available. On the North Shore and Miramichi, the mills offered full-time employment and this offered a better opportunity for most. In south-eastern NB, Moncton’s railway shops, and the Intercolonial Railway (later CN) offered the same.

Initially, they left their homes temporarily to go work in the woods or do road construction. As time passed, they found work in the towns and cities and left the farms for good – eventually taking their families with them.

In Irishtown, in south-eastern New Brunswick, during the 1940’s and 1950’s, abandoned Irish farms were selling for a song.9 Land speculators purchased many a farm to sell later on – primarily to Acadians who moved south from Kent County where conditions were even worse. The Irish in Irishtown had moved into Moncton to work in the railway shops or the Eaton’s catalogue complex. Entire neighbourhoods in Moncton and her outskirts were filled with families who came into the city for the same purpose. Similar migrations occurred around the province.

As a result, many Irish communities that were so painstakingly carved from the New Brunswick wilderness were virtually abandoned. Some still have a few Irish families living in them, but many only live on in a family’s memories and reminiscences. Johnville is one example of an Irish community that has survived – and there are others, but most are long gone.

New Ireland in Albert County is a sad reminder of one that has totally disappeared, except for a dot on the map. A village of a few hundred with two churches, two schools and several farms, most families had left by 1920. Descendants of the families who lived there still speak fondly of the community and keep it close to their hearts. But if you mention New Ireland to others, they don’t even know where it is. The road today is barely passable. Farmland has sadly returned to forest. Occasionally you can see a culvert that once led into a farmer’s home or field, and there is the occasional rose bush or wild apple tree struggling to survive amid reforested lands. Only the cemetery remains to tell passers-by that they are going through New Ireland today.

These abandoned Irish communities dot the landscape of the province – and many today exist in name only. IF only they could talk….

______________________________________

[1] “Saint John, New Brunswick, the Irish Story: Our Proud Irish Heritage http://new-brunswick.net/Saint_John/irish/irish.html

[2] Leo J Hynes, The Catholic Irish of New Brunswick 1783-1900, Fredericton, Privately Published, 1992, p 41.

[3] Leo J Hynes, p. 44.

[4] Ibid, p.109

[5] Leo J Hynes, p 109, and “The Immigrant Aid Society Settlements”, PANB MF – 1865.01.12 – #115 – F12250. For more on this document, see Johnville on this website.

[6] The Immigrant Aid Society Settlements

[7] In an interview with J E (Ned) Belliveau, historian, of Shediac Cape, in 1990, Mr Belliveau related a story of one of Bishop Sweeny’s settlements. As a reporter for the Moncton Times in the 1920’s he went to report on an incident in Gallagher Ridge (off Highway 126). There he found such poverty that he returned to Moncton and wrote about the dire living conditions there instead of the story he had gone to research. Residents of the city of Moncton rallied with food, clothing, and the necessities and a whole “wagon train” of supplies was brought to Gallagher Ridge and the Irish families living there.

[8] A second wave of out-migration to the US occurred in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. As the Irish left Ireland to go work in Britain – so did the New Brunswick Irish leave the province to go work in what became referred to as the “Boston States”.

[9] Interview, Judge Henry J Murphy, 2004.

References:

Hynes, Leo J, The Catholic Irish of New Brunswick 1783-1900, Fredericton, Privately Published, 1992.

______, The Immigrant Aid Society Settlements”, PANB MF – 1865.01.12 – #115 – F12250.

_______, Interview with J.E. Ned Belliveau.

______, Interview with Judge Henry J Murphy.

______, “Saint John, New Brunswick, the Irish Story: Our Proud Irish Heritage http://new-brunswick.net/Saint_John/irish/irish.html

New Brunswick’s Natural Environment and Climate Challenged Early Irish Immigrants

By Linda Evans

Irish immigrants to New Brunswick in the early decades of the nineteenth century must have been absolutely gob-smacked. Not only did they have to cope with forging a new life in a new colony away from all that was familiar and comfortable in their homeland. They had to make new homes in a natural environment totally foreign to the one they had left behind in Ireland. And if coping with the natural landscape of New Brunswick was not enough, they also had to learn how to prepare for, and survive, a New Brunswick winter.

It is a fact that New Brunswick and Ireland are of similar shape and size. Both are essentially rough-hewn rectangles. New Brunswick with an area of 73,440 sq kmi is just a bit larger than the present day Republic of Ireland, which is 70,282 sq km in areaii. Also both New Brunswick and Ireland are blessed with several inland waterways and a coastline that stretches along the south and eastern shores of the province. Both have central interiors that are essentially large tracts of wet bog lands where peat is plentiful. However – the similarities end there.

In many ways, New Brunswick and Ireland do share a landscape that appears familiar – at first glance. The lush rolling hills east of Sussex could have been transplanted here from County Monaghan. And the steep farmland slopes of the northwest Saint John valley could have been scooped right out of West County Cork. However, these well-manicured New Brunswick farmlands have very little to do with the natural environment that greeted Irish settlers to New Brunswick in the first decades of the nineteenth century.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, Ireland had spent several centuries virtually stripped and devoid of any forest whatsoever. Peat bogs provided fuel and heat in Irish hearths – not simply as a matter of choice – but out of necessity. Even simple staves for barrel making were imported onto the island.iii

By contrast, New Brunswick, except for a few small cleared areas, was carpeted with thick dense virgin forest – entirely different from our “cultured” timberlands we see today. Early nineteenth century New Brunswick was covered in a virgin forest of trees that were several feet thick.

‘It is a very fine land but grown with immence [sic] timber… ‘nightland’. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the apertures left in the dense canopy of treetops and generally failed to illuminate the ground. Except in swamps, marshes, and beaver-meadows, trees towered over all, enclosing the new settlers and obscuring the horizons.’iv

Over 95 per cent of New Brunswick was covered in this difficult to tame landscape.v What a daunting prospect to an Irishman who had never even seen a forest before!

Bartletts an Early Settlement

Also, as a new colony, New Brunswick roads – and certainly decent ones – were almost non-existent. Travel was primarily by water – on coastal waterways and along the colony’s numerous river systems. There were as well a number of portages between the river systems – most notably one from the Saint John River across to the extensive Miramichi river systems and from the Kennebecasis River across to the Petitcodiac River and on to the Shediac River, which provided access to the Northumberland Strait.

These portages were barely passable at the best of times however. Most were single lane tracks through densely covered forested lands, which were often littered with stumpage or fallen trees. Bog lands presented another challenge – corduroy roads – literally logs laid down across the roadway to provide a semi-solid base – were the norm. They often sank into the sodden base they were laid on after a good rain and they had to be replaced periodically with another layer of logs. New Brunswick roads were virtually impassable during the spring thaw as well.

New Brunswick’s soils also presented a further challenge. Those Irish immigrants hoping to become successful farmers faced many obstacles. Only the fertile red soils found along the lowland river valleys and the diked lands of the Bay of Fundy were particularly rich enough for agriculture. And much of this land was already settled by the time the Irish arrived in New Brunswick. Most of New Brunswick’s upland soils were podzols – which were sandy and acidic and would need heavy fertilization to be productive at all. Most of New Brunswick’s central bog lands were heavily clayed. Unfortunately, most Irish land grants were given on these last two types of soil – and settlers found it difficult to compete with the productive farms that had already been established along the lowland river systems.

If the natural landscape wasn’t enough of a challenge, new settler families also had to learn how to survive the brutal climate that we all take for granted today. It was entirely foreign to European newcomers to the colony.

Although Ireland is located further north than Newfoundland, the climate is relatively mild for its latitude. Summers are slightly cooler than in New Brunswick, but winters are relatively mild. Temperatures may drop below freezing – but only intermittently. The average temperature in Ireland in January is between 4-8°C and snow is scarce. Ireland may get one or two brief flurries every year and that quickly disappears.vi

An Irish immigrant arriving here in the midst of spring or summer would certainly be deceived into thinking they had arrived in a colony blessed with a wonderfully warm climate. In summer, New Brunswick is not unlike the fertile lowlands of northwest Europe and the summers indeed allow for the growth of similar crops grown at home. However, New Brunswick’s winter teases with a savagery that no Irishman could even begin to imagine. To survive at all, settlers had to quickly contrive a shelter of some sort and economies that would protect them against a cold they had never known before!vii

And adapt they did. Despite climatic factors, and the harshness of New Brunswick’s natural environment – which had so frightened the early Irish settlers – the forest itself would sustain them economically. Although more than 50% of New Brunswickers identified themselves as farmers in 1851,viii it was the forest and the tall stands of timber that would augment their subsistence farming incomes and help them to survive in the unforgiving colony of New Brunswick. New Brunswick forests were indeed a cash crop. With tall stands of sugar maple, ash, yellow birch and fir in the west and red spruce, hemlock, pine, and sugar maple in the east, Britain’s demand for the colony’s timber not only created work for the new immigrants. It also provided more Irish emigrants passage from Ireland back to New Brunswick in the holds of the timber ship packets travelling between New Brunswick and English and Irish ports. As the Provincial Agent Henry Bliss expressed it:

‘The increase of their exports … [illustrates] what employment the timber trade has given to the industry of the Colonists; … the increase of their imports [reveals] what has been the fruit of their labours.’ More prosaically, it was often said that the timber trade ‘built towns and villages – opened roads, and explored the fertile lands of the interior.’ix

Irish immigrants to New Brunswick in the first half of the nineteenth century had to make serious adaptations to the new colony’s natural landscape and climate. They quickly became accustomed to the weather out of necessity. They also learned that the forest – that initially they found daunting – was the key to their future in the new world.
______________________________________

[i] Robert J McCalla, The Maritime Provinces Atlas, Maritext, Halifax, 1988, p. 4.

[ii] Tom Smallman and others, Ireland, Lonely Planet Publications, London, 2000, p 32. The area of the combined Republic and Northern Ireland is 84,421 sq km.

[iii] Ibid., p.35.

[iv] Cecil J Houston and William J Smyth, Irish Immigration and Canadian Settlement, Patterns, Links and Letters, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1990, p. 121.

[v] Even today, 87% of New Brunswick is covered in forest and New Brunswick is still Canada’s most forested province.

[vi] Ibid, p. 34.

[vii] Kenneth F Hare and Morley K Thomas, Climate Canada, Wiley Publishers of Canada Ltd, Toronto, 1974, p. 19-20.

[viii] Graeme Wynn, Timber Colony: An Historical Geography of Early Nineteenth Century New Brunswick, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1981, p. 8.

[ix] Ibid., p 34-35.

BIBLIOGRAPHY


Hare, Kenneth F, and Morley K Thomas, Climate Canada, Wiley Publishers of Canada Ltd, Toronto, 1974.

Houston, Cecil J and William J Smyth, Irish Immigration and Canadian Settlement, Patterns, Links and Letters, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1990.

McCalla, Robert J., The Maritime Provinces Atlas: Maritext, Halifax, 1988.

 

Smallman, Tom and others, Ireland, Lonely Planet Publications, London, 2000.

Wynn, Graeme, Timber Colony: An Historical Geography of Early Nineteenth Century New Brunswick, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1981

Irish Settlement Patterns in New Brunswick

By Linda Evans

At the beginning of the 19th century, New Brunswick was still very sparsely settled. The colony was, for the most part, covered in dense forest – except in the marshland areas of the southeast, and along the major river systems of the southwest.

With a population of approximately 25,0001, most settlements were located along the main river systems and coastline. As can be seen from the 1803 map below, most settlements had barely made a dent into the interior of the colonial wilderness. There were concentrations of settlement in Charlotte County, but only around her many bays and inlets. The Saint John River system, and her tributaries within Kings, Queens and Sunbury Counties, had also been settled – but only close to the river itself. There was also a scattering of settlements along the main Miramichi River area in Northumberland County.

population distribution
Population Distribution in New Brunswick 18032


Although there was no data or returns to show the settling of Westmorland County on the above map, there were settlements in the southeastern portion of the county from the settlement of Petitcodiac and down both sides of the Petitcodiac River and on to the Nova Scotia border – especially in the lowland areas of the dyked lowlands of the Tantramar, left vacant after the Acadian deportation in the mid-eighteenth century. There were also a few Acadian settlements up the eastern coastline – along the Northumberland Strait and the Gulf of St Lawrence – from Westmorland County up to the Baie de Chaleur in Northumberland County, but these areas were fairly sparsely settled.

Indeed, Petitcodiac, at the headwaters of the river from which it takes its name, can probably lay claim as New Brunswick’s first Irish settlement. Located in Westmorland County, it was settled as early as the 1760’s, primarily by Ulster Scot families. They were part of Alexander McNutt’s land plantation scheme in Nova Scotia. These immigrants were supposed to find land grants on lands McNutt had acquired in the Truro-Onslow area of Nova Scotia. Delays and mismanagement plagued the scheme and a group of disgruntled settlers left Nova Scotia and came to New Brunswick to settle the marshland areas of Petitcodiac instead3.

New Brunswick’s major immigration boom was between the years 1815-1850 when the majority of immigrants arrived here from Ireland. The timber trade provided the impetus for this large influx of new settlers and shipping increased dramatically between New Brunswick and the British Isles. The majority of immigrants at this time travelled to New Brunswick in the holds of timber ships on their return journey to the colony – and many of these new settlers were Irish. By mid-century, over 50% of the colony was Irish.

A simple glance at the map below shows clearly that the influx of new pioneers in the first half of the nineteenth century shaped the new colony very much into the provincial settlement patterns we are familiar with today in New Brunswick. No single immigration period after that time so affected the physical landscape itself. The majority of these immigrants were Irish. The influx of new pioneers is especially poignant when one looks at the population figures for the period. The population of New Brunswick increased from approximately 25,000 in 1803 to a whopping 193,000 in 18514. Indeed, it is estimated that between 1827 and 1835 alone, approximately 65,000 Irish immigrants arrived in the colony5. Not all stayed – several opting to travel on to the United States. However, those who did stay built homesteads and created settlements throughout every county in the colony, forming the settlement patterns we still see today.


population distribution 2Population Distribution in New Brunswick, 18516

Very little of New Brunswick’s land was fertile and viable for agriculture, and unfortunately many of the large influx of Irish settlers still wished to work upon the land. That would prove difficult in many areas. The lush arable farming lands of the major river systems and lowland marshlands had, for the most part, been already settled before they arrived.

The new Irish settlers were allocated – or chose – what was left – land grants along the smaller tributaries of the existing settled river lands, and on minor streams and creeks that fed into the major river systems. Sometimes these lands were nowhere near a water source at all. This was significant for their future as water was critical to the new settling families – not just for their own personal needs – but also for their farmlands and livestock.

The Irish settled all along the Saint John River Valley from the Bay of Fundy to the Madawaska. Settlements were fairly densely concentrated along the Saint John River tributaries to the Kingston Penninsula, up the Kennebecasis to the Sussex Vale and on into Westmorland County all the way to the Nova Scotia border. On the east coast, Irish settlements could be found on the interior reaches of the Tormentine Penninsula and the inland tidal waters of the Shediac, Cocagne, Bouctouche, and Richibucto Rivers. A heavy concentration of settlements also sprang up on the Miramichi River system reaching down almost to the colonial capital in Fredericton. Other Irish settlers found a home among the Acadians in their own settlements in the northeastern corner of the colony.

For the majority, land was not free in the new colony. Uncleared land was 4s6d to 12s6d an acre, depending on the quality of the land and so the normal allotment of 100 acres could cost £20 – £607. Some acquired ‘location tickets’ for land and once settled, could then petition the government for the land itself. In many cases the land would only be petitioned for many years later.

Those who wished to acquire land were obliged to petition the government and indicate their status as British subjects, their willingness to pay the cost of a survey of the lands concerned, and agree to undertake their improvement following a grant of possession… petitioners had to be adult males, for the most part, [and] over eighteen years of age8.

There was some free land available. The New Brunswick government, in 1820, aware of the large influx of new immigrants arriving, surveyed lands through the centre of the Tormentine peninsula in Westmorland County to encourage pioneers to settle there. The land was in-land, away from any river system, with a few small streams – some of them just spring freshettes – and more valuable for the stands of timber they held than the soil below them. Still there were 50 free parcels of 200-acre lots and Irish immigrants were quick to claim them. The settlement became known simply as Emigrant Road and would eventually become Melrose.9

Some areas, particularly those involved in the timber trade, were settled quickly. This was particularly the case in the Miramichi region of the colony. New immigrants arriving on the returning timber ships quickly found temporary work. Once they had secured enough to apply for a land grant, they then moved inland up the many streams that fed the Miramichi River system.

From 1816 on, hundreds of immigrants began to arrive at Miramichi…by1820 all of the good lots fronting on the main river near the principal settlement had been occupied. As a result the rapidly increasing number who arrived in the 1820’s turned to the banks of the various branches of the river. As a result, by 1835, streams like the Bay du Vin, the Bartibog, the Barnaby, the Bartholemew, the Renous, the Sevogle, and Cains had all been occupied by Irish mmigrants…others moved even further afield and found settlements at places like Tabusintac and Pokemouche…the influence of the immigrants saw the population of Northumberland County rise rapidly from 2,880 in 1802 to 15,823 in 1824, an increase of over 500%10.

Not all Irish immigrants arrived in the larger ports of Saint John, Miramichi or St Andrews, where quarantine stations had been hastily erected at this time. Many arrived in the many ports that dotted the coastal waters of the colony – especially those involved in the timber trade. Many of these immigrants simply squatted on land available nearby or in-land – petitioning for a land grant many years after they had arrived – once the land had been already cleared and settled.

Others sought out land before petitioning for it. According to family history, sometime between 1820 and 1830, Edward O’Donnell took a coastal boat from the port of Saint John up to Shepody in Albert County – seeking suitable land for a homestead. He saw a great green forest sloping down to the Bay of Fundy – went in-land, hacked out a clearing and built a log cabin. He was eventually thought missing and a search party was sent out from Saint John to find him. Upon arrival, the search party, also Irish immigrants, were also impressed and stayed11. Others followed, carving a path that became known as the Shepody Road and here the community of New Ireland came to be.

These were, in some ways, the fortunate ones. For many, selecting a land grant was risky business and there was certainly a degree of luck involved. Even if the acreage was inspected beforehand, the ground was so densely covered with trees that the land beneath it, its fertility, and agricultural potential was not generally known until it was cleared.

Indeed, luck was a factor within communities as well. One lot could be far superior to the one adjoining it. James Carroll, who had come to New Brunswick from Ireland via Newfoundland, acquired land in the Emigrant Road Settlement on the Tormentine Penninsula mentioned earlier. His land was useless however and no more than clay-clad bog land once it had been cleared. He petitioned the New Brunswick government for the ‘location ticket and improvements’ of land granted to one Thomas Fox.12

Fox wrote to the government that he would ‘Willingly give up … the Lot of Land that my Ticket Specifies … to [James Carroll] … as his Lot is good for Nothing and he is married and I am single and am going to leave the Country.’13

Whether they arrived in New Brunswick and were given location tickets to various lands around the colony, sought out good lands on their own, or even squatted, there is no question that the Irish had a large impact on the settlement landscape of the province of New Brunswick. Because most arable land was no longer available, they often found themselves struggling to make a living on land which was poor, or at best, only good enough to sustain a subsistence lifestyle. But even so, despite the poor quality, Irish immigrants wanted to settle in their own communities and they wanted to work upon the land. In the 1871 census, 75% of the Irish still lived in these rural settlements and farming was the number one activity in the colony.14

In conclusion, Irish settlements dotted the new landscape of New Brunswick in the first half of the nineteenth century. They opened up the colony along the in-land waterways and were vital to the new prosperity that the timber trade and shipbuilding afforded the new colony. New Brunswick’s growth and development would not have occurred so quickly without the large influx of Irish immigrants in the first half of the nineteenth century. The collapse of the timber industry in the 1860’s would have a devastating effect on their futures. Their farms were not economically viable and, for the most part, very few cleared the full acreage they were granted. The economic driving force in New Brunswick was her forest – and the new Irish settlers, who arrived here not knowing how to swing an axe, quickly adapted to the new lifestyle. They supplemented their meagre farming incomes by working in the same woods they feared upon arriving here.

As mentioned earlier, the Irish settled every county in New Brunswick. To go into detail here on where each settlement was located would be redundant and repetitive. To find out more about the Irish settlements around New Brunswick, please visit the various counties, and/or the communities themselves.

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[1] Graeme Wynn, Timber Colony, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1981, p. 11.
[2] Ibid, p. 13
[3] Cecil J Houston and William J Smyth, Irish Emigration and Canadian Settlement, Patterns, Links and Letters, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990, p. 195.
[4] Graeme Wynn, Timber Colony, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1981, p. 151.
[5] William A Spray, “Reception of the Irish in New Brunswick”, P.M Toner, Ed, New Ireland Remembered: Historical Essays on the Irish in New Brunswick, Fredericton, New Ireland Press, 1888, p. 9.
[6] Graeme Wynn, Timber Colony, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1981, p. 151.
[7] Cecil J Houston and William J Smyth, Irish Emigration and Canadian Settlement, Patterns, Links and Letters, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990, p. 128.
[8] Thomas P. Power, “Sources for Irish Immigration and Settlement in the Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, Fredericton”, Tom P Power, Ed, The Irish in Atlantic Canada, 1780-1900, Fredericton: New Ireland Press, 1991, p 162.
[9] Cecil J Houston and William J Smyth, Irish Emigration and Canadian Settlement, Patterns, Links and Letters, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990, p. 198.
[10] William A Spray, “The Irish in Miramichi”, P.M Toner, Ed, New Ireland Remembered: Historical Essays on the Irish in New Brunswick, Fredericton: New Ireland Press, 1888, p 56.
[11] Leo J Hynes, The Catholic Irish in New Brunswick 1783-1900, Fredericton: Privately published, 1992, p. 161.
[12] Cecil J Houston and William J Smyth, Irish Emigration and Canadian Settlement, Patterns, Links and Letters, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990, p. 199.
[13] Ibid.
[14] David A Wilson, The Irish in Canada, Booklet 12, Canada’s Ethnic Groups, Ottawa: Canadian Historical Association, 1989, p. 12-13.
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BIBLIOGRAPHY

Houston, Cecil J and William J Smyth, Irish Emigration and Canadian Settlement: Patterns, Links and Letters, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990.

Hynes, Leo J., The Catholic Irish in New Brunswick 1783-1900, Fredericton : Privately published, 1992.

O’Driscoll, Robert and Lorna Reynolds, Eds., The Untold Story: The Irish in Canada, Toronto: Celtic Arts of Canada, 1988.

Power, Thomas P, “Sources for Irish Immigration and Settlement in the Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, Fredericton”, Power, Tom P, Ed, The Irish in Atlantic Canada, 1780-1900, Fredericton: New Ireland Press, 1991, pp. 150-183.

Spray, William A, “Reception of Irish in New Brunswick”, Toner, P. M. Ed, New Ireland Remembered: Historical Essays on the Irish in New Brunswick, Fredericton, New Ireland Press, 1888, pp. 9-26.

Spray, William A, “The Irish in Miramichi”, P.M Toner, Ed, New Ireland Remembered: Historical Essays on the Irish in New Brunswick, Fredericton: New Ireland Press, 1888, pp. 55-62.

Wilson, David A, The Irish in Canada, Booklet 12, Canada’s Ethnic Groups, Ottawa: Canadian Historical Association, 1989.

Wynn, Graeme, Timber Colony, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1981.

Almost As Bad as Ireland:
The Experience of the Irish Immigrant
in Canada, Saint John, 1847

 
By James M. Whalen
In the 1840’s, death and emigration depleted the population of Ireland. In 1846, when the potato crop failed, widespread destitution and famine followed: an epidemic of fever and dysentery broke out; thousands died, not only from hunger but from disease. The only way to escape the misery of the country, it was believed, was to emigrate and in the summer of 1847 thousands made their way to Irish ports, and to Liverpool, in preparation for the journey. The exodus was unequalled in the history of Ireland with over 100,000 emigrating to British North America alone. They came from areas in which the disease was particularly malignant and if they escaped fever before leaving, or on the ocean voyage, it often broke out after their arrival in the new land. It was anticipated that large numbers would arrive in a destitute and weakened condition, but the British colonies were not expecting such a heavy influx and were not prepared to cope with the situation. A Committee of the Saint John Common Council stressed that neither Emigrant Officer, nor anyone else:
“could have possibly imagined that loads of pauper emigrants would have been shipped from different Irish ports and from Liverpool, worn out with poverty and disease, and labouring under fever of a most infectious and malignant description. The difficulties came upon us like a thunderbolt.”
In February 1847, the Government Emigration Officer at Saint John, Moses H. Perley, pointed out the urgent need for better accommodation at the quarantine station, which was located on Partridge Island about two miles from the city. It was controlled by the Saint John Common Council under terms of the city’s Charter of incorporation of 1785, and regulations required that all ships, with passengers, anchor there for medical inspection. On the island stood two fever sheds, both of which were in poor condition and together would only accommodate about 100 people. Before repairs were made to these buildings, or increased accommodation provided, ships with cases of fever and dysentery on board began arriving in quarantine. It was discovered, sadly, that in many of them passengers had died during the voyage.

The first emigrant vessel, the Midas arrived at Partridge Island from Galway on 5 May with 163 passengers. During the passage ten died and others were sick with fever. Other vessels followed with passengers generally in good health, but the situation soon changed for the worse. On 16 May, the Aldebaran landed from Sligo with 418 passengers. Of these, 36 died on route, 105 were ill on arrival and more than 80 of them subsequently died in quarantine. A few days later, on 22 May, the Pallas put in from Cork having on board 31 cases of fever among the 204 passengers. Only one person died during the voyage but 27, including the captain, Robert Hall, died after landing. Then, on the 24 May, the Amazon came in from Liverpool with 262 passengers. Two passengers had died on route, 34 were ill on landing and the mortality on Partridge Island was 55.

By early June, the sheds at the quarantine station were crowded with fever patients – “the floors of every ward being completely covered to the very doors.” A total of 2,471 emigrants were in quarantine at this time, but many of them were still on board vessels waiting to be landed. It was obvious that facilities had to be found elsewhere. As a temporary measure, military tents were used to shelter the sick and in the absence of receiving sheds, they provided refuge to healthy emigrants during the time required for the purification of the vessels. These too were soon filled, and some masters became so anxious to land their passengers that they made additional tents from the sails of their vessels.

Ordinarily, tents were floored with boards and those living in them were supplied with cots. Tents were quite adequate during fine weather but afforded insufficient protection when it was cold and damp. At times when there was no flooring in them, and no cots provided, patients were forced to sleep on a bedding of straw, spruce boughs or even the bare ground. Others made shelter out of a few boards and some were exposed to cold and dampness in the open air with no covering except their clothes. This situation induced some emigrants to burn the fences around the grounds of the lighthouse-keeper and even a supply of bedsteads for fuel. The need for accommodation prevented the immediate removal of emigrants from vessels in quarantine. Their confinement on board, with the sick, convalescent and healthy crowded together, often caused the disease to spread more rapidly at anchor than at passage. This development was attributed to the lack of ventilation at stationary vessels, as it was believed the ocean breezes purified the air and reduced the danger of infection. Moreover, there was no medical officer on board most vessels, because, under the provisions of the Passenger Act of 1842, they were not required to carry one.

Eventually, carpenters, at great risk to their health, constructed two additional fever sheds on Partridge Island, one two stories high, the other one story, and each 100 feet long by 20 feet wide. They were totally unsuitable for hospital purposes, because they were so narrow that there was hardly any space between the beds of the crowded wards. Patients suffering from different stages of fever, and many in a dying state, were often crushed together with convalescents. Usually, they slept on the floor, males and females in the same room; with their chests, boxes and other personal effects scattered around them, congesting the main passageways. One of the buildings had no covering in the outer walls and it was impossible to hire carpenters to complete it because of their fear of the disease. Some patients, therefore, suffered from exposure, especially during inclement weather. Dr. George J. Harding, the Health Officer in charge of the Quarantine Station, resided on the island during the emigration season. He carried out the medical inspection of passenger vessels and if he detected disease on board, the sick were removed to one of the fever hospitals. The healthy remained in quarantine for a relatively short period, as they were allowed to go on in to the city, once they were cleared, and the vessel in which they arrived had been cleaned and fumigated. This procedure appeared to be the best system for ensuring that they reached the port of Saint John in apparent good health.

Early in June, with the fever sheds full, and the overflow crowded into tents, the duties of the Health Officer became so burdensome that he could not handle the responsibilities alone. Although it was extremely difficult to obtain medical assistance because of the danger of contracting disease, Dr. William Harding, a brother of the Health Officer and Dr. James Patrick Collins, went to the quarantine station to assist him. Both doctors were attacked by fever soon after they arrived on the scene and Dr. Collins, who was only 23, died on 2 July, though Dr. Harding recovered. At this time, with only the Health Officer on the island the situation was critical. During the first two months of the passenger season, May and June, 27 vessels, carrying a total of 4,893 passengers, arrived. The number of deaths at sea and on board vessels at anchor mounted to 264 and another 154 perished on the island and upwards of 500 lay sick in fever sheds and tents. During this period, however, the medical duties were almost entirely conducted by the Health Officer alone. Sometime in July, the peak period for emigration, relief came as Dr. William Mitchell volunteered his services. The two doctors faced a monumental task, as 28 more vessels, having on board 4,058 passengers, arrived during that month, 186 were lost on route or died on ship-board in quarantine and another 112 died at the lazarettos.

Early in August, Dr. Mitchell was stricken with fever and Dr. George J. Harding, once again handled the medical duties single-handedly. On 5 August, the British Merchant put in from Cork with 338 passengers. There were 33 deaths on the voyage; about 50 were ill on landing; and 56 subsequently died. The Emigration Officer at Saint John prophetically wrote: “This fresh supply of fever on a large scale, will press severely on Dr. Harding, who is now greatly exhausted.” A few days later, on 9 August, the Health Officer was prostrated with fever. No replacement was found until 13 August when Dr. William S. Harding made his return to the island, having just recovered from an attack of fever. The latter Dr. Harding served as Health Officer for the remainder of the passenger season. Dr. Wetmore acted as his assistant, until September, when his services were required at the Emigrant Hospital at the City and County Almshouse. Dr. George L. Murphy, it appears, was also engaged in medical duties at the quarantine station about this time. The doctors had more than enough to tax their energies, as they had to attend to over 1300 emigrants who were either ill on the island, or were on board vessels waiting to be landed; other vessels were expected at any moment. As a matter of fact, a total of 3,509 passengers arrived in seventeen vessels during August; 136 emigrants died on route or on board vessels in quarantine and large numbers were hospitalized on the island, ill with fever.

By the end of August, over 12,000 emigrants had landed at the quarantine station since 1 May, many of whom had succumbed to the rapidly spreading fever. At this time, the Lieutenant Governor appointed a Board of Physicians “to inquire into the state of the emigrants at Partridge Island, and at the Almshouse”, with a view to suggesting measures that might lead to improvements. The Board reported that the disease was contagious, as evidenced by illness among doctors and others who had been in contact with infected emigrants, and attributed its presence in the Saint John area to the following factors:

“The co-operating influences of poverty and its concomitants upon the system of the emigrant prior to embarkation; to impurities of atmosphere in the crowded holds of vessels; to neglect of personal cleanliness; to impure water; and want of medical attendance and supervision during the passage; and lastly and principally, to exposure, impurities, want from insufficient attention, and hospital deficiencies at the quarantine station at Partridge Island and to the deficient supply of wholesome water.”
In those days, however, the medical profession had no knowledge of the source of the disease, or the manner in which it was transmitted.

In contemporary sources, references to the physical effects of fever and dysentery are infrequent. Medical authorities pointed out that typhus, among other things, caused a “depression of the vital or organic nervous power, and its character, like that of most epidemic diseases, often assumes a frightfully aggravated from. On the subject of relapsing fever, it was simply noted that some emigrants had spent up to sixteen weeks at the quarantine station undergoing several relapses of it. As for dysentery, there is an occasional reference to “bowel complaint” and “diarrhea” which are symptomatic of it. One emigrant, who probably was suffering from a severe form of it, wrote: “I was given up by the doctor I passed blood trough(sic) me for Three days and the skin and flesh busted off my teeth and gave Blood on my mouth”. Many emigrants appeared to suffer chronic effects from fever and dysentery and were too “exhausted”, “debilitated” or “emaciated” to work or perform anything except light work. In fact, the rate of wages at Saint John increased, even though the city was crowded with newcomers, because of the lack of able-bodied labourers. It became increasingly difficult to convince employers that they ought to hire emigrants to work for them, when there was a danger they themselves might become infected.

Although it is important to note the kind of medical treatment given to sufferers of fever and dysentery, contemporary sources are also vague on the subject. With the limited number of doctors and assistants available during the crises, and the crowded condition of fever wards, there is no way in which individual medical attention would have been possible. For example, from August to mid-December, there was a monthly average of 540 patients in the Emigrant hospital at the Almshouse under the care, it seems, of only one physician. Under those circumstances, the doctors could offer no more than a cursory medical examination of patients and it was probably left to nurses and attendants to carry out the prescribed medical treatment. Some of the medicines included purgatives, such as castor-oil and laudanum and stimulants, consisting chiefly of wine and brandy. Also recommended were “ablutions and frequent spongings of the body of the patient with tepid water either by itself or medicated with vinegar or the muriatic or nutric acids”. Beside, the doctors suggested attention to diet, correct ventilation, frequent changes of body and bedclothes, removal of all offensive matter, and fumigation of fever wards and other unclean places, with chloride of lime. Whether there was enough staff to carry out these procedures is doubtful.

As a result of the lack of sufficient accommodation and medical staff, conditions judged by the medical authorities to be conducive to the spread of disease were very much in evidence on Partridge Island. For example, it became impossible to carry out the proper burial of the dead, not only because of the high mortality rate among the emigrants, but also because masters of vessels secretly interred their dead passengers at night. On more than one occasion, bodies were buried in mass graves. For example, in August, when the Health Officer was ill, upwards of 40 bodies accumulated and a huge pit was dug and the dead were buried together in it. A number of corpses were buried in ordinary clothes, without the protection of coffins, and insufficiently covered in soil. As a result, patients in the fever hospital, adjacent to the burial ground, were exposed to an extremely offensive odour emanating from it. Also, an offensive smell arose from the night soil and garbage which piled up around the tents and fever sheds. Filth was not removed regularly, owing to the apparent disregard of emigrants for personal cleanliness, and the helplessness of their physical condition. There was also a lack of stewards to see that this was done. In order to prevent the disease from spreading to the city, constables were employed to oversee the movement of people between the island and the mainland. In spite of this, a few emigrants, probably fearful of contamination, made their way to the city without permission.

Food was unfairly distributed, as portions were often given out only to those who managed to go and collect it for themselves and their friends. Some, however, were unable to cook the rations offered to them, and others hoarded provisions, especially tea and sugar, in their sleeping quarters, for future use. Some emigrants ate half-cooked food, contaminated meat and unripe fruit, some of it foisted upon them by hucksters from the city or drank water that was unfit to drink. This was thought to be a leading cause of “dysenteric affections” which were “fatal among children and adults”. The two main sources from which the quarantine station drew its water supply were totally inadequate. The water in the well, located near the burial ground, was polluted, and the water supplied from a spring on the island dried up during the hot summer weather. Additional supplies were sent from the city in casks, but water supplied in this manner was easily contaminated. Sometimes, shortages occurred because rough seas or dense fog prevented its delivery.

Emigrants who contracted fever after arriving in Saint John were usually taken to the city and County Almshouse, which was located in the Parish of Simonds, about one mile from the city. The authorities wanted to remove them from the centre of population to whom they constituted a danger of contagion. The Almshouse, it appears, served as a shelter for both destitute and diseased emigrants for several weeks before hospitals and sheds were built exclusively for the use of emigrants. The exposure of parish and emigrant paupers to those suffering from a malignant and contagious fever had serious consequences for sick and healthy alike. During the period from March 1847 to March 1848, 2,381 emigrants and 610 parish paupers were admitted to the Almshouse establishment, including the emigrant hospitals and sheds. The death toll was appalling, as 560 emigrants and 126 paupers died during that fateful year. In 1856, the chairman of the Board of Health, Dr. William Bayard, who had been a physician at the Almshouse during the crises of 1847, recalled:

“The Almshouse soon became a plague spot, the rooms were crowded to excess… local and personal impunity soon generated a pestilential atmosphere, and the records at the Almshouse will furnish frightful evidence of its mortality among the doomed inmates of the misnamed hospital.”
Late in August 1847, when fever sheds and hospitals were completed near the Almshouse to accommodate sick emigrants, conditions in it improved considerably. The Emigrant Hospital, as it was called, really consisted of several buildings. There was one structure which could accommodate 110 patients, another which could accommodate 128, and there was an indeterminate number of narrow sheds similar to those on Partridge Island. Generally, there was a lack of space between patients; passageways were blocked; and there was no covering on the outer walls of some of the buildings. Consequently, patients suffered from exposure during damp and windy weather. Nonetheless, by late August there appeared to be ample room for all those who sought refuge there.

Dr. William Bayard served, except for a brief period, as attending physician at the Emigrant Hospital from 1 May to 30 July, when he contracted fever. Dr. Robert Bayard performed the medical duties for about two weeks, in late June and early July, during the absence of the former Bayard. There was no doctor there from 29 July to 12 August. During that time the patients were under the temporary care of William Craig, the superintendent of the emigrant population. Then, Dr. John Paddock was hired as visiting physician on 12 August, but after only after one month of service he too was attacked by fever. Dr. Wetmore, who had been a medical assistant on Partridge Island, replaced him. Wetmore served as physician for an undetermined period of time, but he too was prostrated by fever. It is not certain what medical arrangements were made for the emigrants after that time.

In the city of Saint John, destitute emigrants were crowded into hastily erected sheds located at the east end of St. James Street. They provided temporary accommodation for about 200 emigrants who, before their erection, were lying at night in the streets. These sheds were situated about 200 feet from the Provincial Marine Hospital and 1,200 to 1,500 feet from the military barracks. Captain J.D. Johnstone wanted them removed, because he believed the emigrants living there presented a grave danger to the health of the soldiers under his command, and to the residents of the Lower Cove area of the city. Although there was constant movement of emigrants in and out of these buildings, the danger of contagion, although ever present, was greatly reduced, because as soon as fever developed, the sick were immediately removed to the Emigrant Hospital outside the city. Early in December, the sheds were closed, and 182 emigrants remaining there sent to the City and County Almshouse.

The former City Poorhouse, located on the corner of Carmarthen and King Street East, did not serve as a fever hospital during the epidemic, despite the fact that a committee, appointed by the Quarter Sessions, had recommended that it be restored for that purpose. Probably, its proximity to the centre of the city prevented it from being used as an infirmary. At first, destitute emigrants from the Aeolus, which had arrived on the 31 May from Sligo with some 500 passengers, found refuge there. They were former tenants from the Lissadell estate of Sir Robert Gore Booth and had been sent out at his expense. Although they arrived in seemingly good health, many suffered from sickness after coming to the city. “The old poor’s house is a factory of disease, in consequence of the filth and destitution of its inmates, many of whom are penniless widows and orphans.” Authorities acted quickly in order to prevent the spread of disease among the inmates. A few days later, a doctor inspected the premises and ordered the removal of the sick to the Emigrant Hospital. Late in August, about 150 pauper emigrants still remained in the poorhouse, and it was believed that many of them would become a public charge on the taxpayers of the community. About two months later, these emigrants were cleared out of the building, and the provincial government, generously assisted by private charities, converted it into an orphan asylum.

In the autumn of 1847, there were over 150 children in the Emigrant Hospital at Saint John City and County Almshouse, most of whom were either orphans, half orphans or children whose parents were suffering from disease. Other children were huddled in sheds on St. James Street and Partridge Island, or scattered in various parts of the city, where some lived chiefly by begging. A shelter was needed in order to remove them from exposure to disease and provide them with proper care. The intention was to build up their physique, in order to induce residents of the urban and rural areas to adopt them. A staff, which included Dr. John Paddock as medical attendant, was hired. Late in October, the first of the orphans, 74 in number, were transferred from the Emigrant Hospital into the new orphan asylum. By the end of the year nearly 200 children, some of whom were extremely debilitated and subsequently died, had been admitted to the establishment.

In the late summer and fall of 1847, emigrants continued to arrive but less frequently and generally in better health than in the earlier part of the season. For example, in September, nine vessels reached port with a total of 1,380 passengers, 60 of whom died before arrival, or on board vessels in quarantine. In October and November, another nine vessels carrying 1,052 landed, and only eleven deaths occurred on ship board at sea or in quarantine. On 1 November, the very day the quarantine station was closed for the year, the Aselus, having on board 428 of Lord Palmerston’s tenants and the Triumph, with 46 from Mr. Ffolliott’s estate, came from Sligo. The passengers on the Triumph arrived in good condition, but the destitution and suffering of those on the Aselus was deplorable. The Health Officer candidly remarked:
 

“ There are many superannuated people; and others of broken down constitutions, and subjects of chronic disease, lame, widows with very helpless families, feeble men with large helpless families…and that nearly 400 so glaring paupers are thus sent out. Who so tame would not feel indignant at that outrage?”
By this time, public buildings were so overcrowded with sick and destitute that it was difficult to find accommodation for the newcomers. Outraged municipal authorities, fearful of large financial burdens to provide for their support, tried to induce them to return to Ireland by offering to pay their way. Because they were not willing to take up the offer, there was no alternative but to crowd them into the emigrant establishment at the Almshouse. Room was provided for many of the children, however, in the Emigrant Orphan Asylum.

The annual report of Moses Perley, the Emigration Officer at Saint John, reveals that a total of 17,074 emigrants embarked for New Brunswick in 99 vessels from Irish ports and seven from Liverpool, but the passengers were “very nearly, without exception, all from Ireland”. Altogether over 2,100 died: 823 deaths occurred on the passage, and 1,292 died after arrival, the majority in Saint John where 14,892 emigrants landed. The mortality at the quarantine station on Partridge Island was 601 and another 595 died at the Emigrant Hospital. Few died elsewhere in the province of New Brunswick except at Middle Island in the Miramichi River where 96 deaths were recorded, all passengers from the Looshtauk. In the city of Saint John, the mortality in the former poorhouse, and in fever sheds in the south end was minimal. Because these institutions did not receive fever patients, and if infection took place after admittance, the sick were immediately removed to the Emigrant Hospital to the Almshouse. The number of deaths, beyond the official total, will never be known, because there were undoubtedly many who died of whom there is no record. In Perley’s opinion, 2,400 died, or one seventh of those who set sail for the colony. This figure, of course, does not include seamen, or residents of the province, who died as a result of the epidemic.

No accurate account exists, either, of the number of emigrants who proceeded to the United States after their arrival in New Brunswick. Perley estimated that nearly fifty percent re-emigrated, “notwithstanding the exertions used to prevent their entrance there.” Many wanted to go directly to the United States, but chose instead a British colony, because the passage rate from Great Britain was cheaper and the entrance requirements were less severe. Usually, the able-bodied, consisting chiefly of heads of families, left immediately, or after a short period of time in the province, leaving their dependents to the temporary or permanent care of the overseers of the poor, or the Almshouse commissioners. The Passenger Act in the United States restricted the landing of the sick and destitute, and some who ventured to go on were sent back to the British territory. Others, probably, left the colony, as they had left their homeland in order to escape from the disease which was carrying off so many of their friends and relatives. For example, the Henigans, who had been sent out from the estate of Sir Robert Gore Booth, explained, “We left miserable St. Johns it is allmost as bad as Ireland we are getting on very well since we came to the State of Maine.”

In spite of reports of famine and disease in Ireland, and indications that the immigration of destitute and unhealthy people would be more extensive than in previous years, no special measures were taken at the port of Saint John to prepare for the influx. Repairs were not made to existing quarantine buildings on Partridge Island until vessels from Ireland actually began to arrive, and it was soon discovered that additional fever sheds were needed to accommodate the large numbers of sick. Before these were built, tents were used, but it was impossible to provide shelter for all who needed it. A similar lack of accommodation was noticeable once emigrants reached the mainland. Emigrants who contracted disease after arriving in the city were simply placed in the Almshouse, located in the Parish of Simonds, along with parish paupers, who often were infected from exposure to them. It was several weeks before fever hospitals were completed, near the Almshouse establishment, exclusively for the use of emigrants. Hasty preparations were also made to deal with the large number of pauper emigrants. The old city poorhouse was fitted up to house destitute tenants from the Booth estate, and sheds were rapidly built, in the Lower Cove area, for other indigents who had been lying about in the streets without shelter of any kind.

At the quarantine station, and the almshouse, little could be done, under the circumstances, to prevent the spread of the epidemic. The Board of Physicians, which conducted a study of conditions at Partridge Island and the almshouse suggested the erection of additional buildings at the quarantine station, and other improvements, including a proper burial ground, a wholesome supply of water and adequate medical staff. But their recommendations came too late in the season to be of any benefit for that year. Throughout the spring and summer of 1847 the epidemic raged out of control, but with the arrival of autumn, and the coming of colder weather, it gradually subsided. By then the number of emigrants who could become infected had diminished. But the crisis was far from over, because public buildings were still crowded with the sick and dying.

In the aftermath of the disaster, the colonists rightfully laid some of the blame on Irish landlords, such as Booth and Palmerston, who together sent nearly 2,000 of their poorer tenants to New Brunswick in order to relieve their estates of the financial burden of providing for them. The colonists needed a supply of sturdy labourers and farmers, who would become permanent settlers, not emigrants carrying contagion, or paupers who would become a public charge. The British government did not intervene on behalf of the dispossessed emigrants, because it adopted the principle that emigration to North America ought to be voluntary. The government was responsible, however, for the enforcement of the Passengers’ Act, which controlled and regulated the transport of passengers from Great Britain. The Act was not administered strictly enough to afford emigrants the intended protection because, with the larger number involved, there was not enough staff to enforce it properly. Complaints were frequent about insanitary and overcrowded conditions on board unsound emigrant vessels, but surprisingly, only five convictions were made at Saint John in 1847 for violations of the Passengers’ Act. More importantly, hasty medical inspection of emigrants at points of departure resulted in the infected often going on board vessels undetected, and others gradually becoming contaminated from exposure to them.

Upon arrival in Saint John, several of the able-bodied , or those in possession of enough money, went to the United States, leaving the destitute and the sickly behind as a burden on the Emigrant fund from which the deserving were maintained for up to one year. In 1847, the total expenditure (in excess of the proceeds in the fund) amounted to 14,820 pounds. The taxpayers of Saint John feared a substantial increase in their poor rates from the large number who, undoubtedly would become a permanent charge, once they were no longer eligible for relief from this source. Prodded by local authorities, the provincial government appealed to London for assistance, and after a series of sharp exchanges, the British government accepted part of the burden. They agreed to pay 7,410 pounds, which was exactly one half the amount of the deficit.

As for officials in Saint John and County, it can be said that they showed a certain lack of foresight in not anticipating the extent of the immigration, or the wretched condition of the emigrants. Since they did not make any advance preparations, they were forced to employ stop gap measures in order to deal with the crisis. But when one considers the influx of some 15,000 mainly destitute and diseased emigrants, into an area with a population of slightly over 30,000, it was no wonder they were overwhelmed by the problems it created.
NOTE by James M Whalen: The writer of this piece would like to point out that this article first appeared in Archivaria (the Journal of the Association of Canadian Archivists) No. 10, Summer 1980. It was reprinted in The Untold Story: The Irish in Canada, ed. R. O’Driscoll and L Reynolds, Toronto, Celtic Arts, Vol 1, 1988.