Sunday dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1845-1854, 1852-04-11
THE IRISH ENTTGRANTS.

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THE IRISH E1IIGRANTS.
Reader does it ever strike you. when you
behold noble vessel riding up your beau
teous bay, crowded with human beings, with
anxious looks and heavy breasts, that poor,
ematiated, Wretched and miserable though
they appear, they have within them hearts
as tender, and souls as pure as the gentle
breeze Of summer eve Or think you even
that they have left behind them, in their
Eastern home, loved ones, dear ones, fond
ones, for whom they sigh and who will sigh
for them, for days, for weeks, forever; or
that when they snatched themselves from
that land, or from those loved objects, they
were guilty of shedding even parting tear
Few there are, it is true, who entertain such
thoughts; who for a moment, allow their
minds to set on such second-rate subject,
or who even stay to gaze on the care worn
emigrant, unless it is to indulge their risibil-
ity. To prove to such individually, that !. Al I
thss-c51 l-~-..ssVy ~ III u BtUuv O1 Auu41y no 10
still man, l will give brief account, from
personal experience, Of the departure OF the
emigrant from his native land, and take
glance at his arrival in New York.
N-4N
part of 1848-a year of painful "reminiscences
to all true sons of the Green Isle-and having
often heard of the affecting scenes which take
place at that port on the departure OF an
emigrant vessel for New York, resolved to
be not only witness Of all that might occur,
but passenger on board the first ship that
would sail With this determination, took
passage in May, on board a vessel advertised
for the first of June, and having settled my
affairs, made good my time in bidding fare
well to my hospitable friends, and recon-
noitering old Dublin, from the Shades OF
Clontarf to the Green Of Donnybrook. And
such time as 1 had; such a month of un-
alloyed pleasure; of fun, Of frolic, Of mirth,
Of laughter, Of endeaIing wishes and heart
felt blessings, l never more can have unless
l revisit Dublin. But have digressed.
1t was Tuesday morning, June 6Eh, as the
Blue Peter waved from the mast of the Brit
ish ships Juno; ;Salong the quays, from Caro-
line Bridge to the Custom House, one dense
mass of men, women, and children, were
vending their way to catch one last glance
of some old endearing friend, father, son or
husband. 1 stood on the quarter-deck, all
neutrality-suspicious., when respectable look
ing man, about middle sge, approached
y0SsIB uuuIE, ru1r fvitlial5 lia iza 4i5 nc
the large tears rolled from his eyes, ex
claimed: 's My son in few hours you will
be far away from the advice Of your poor
father; yet the same sun which sheds his
luster over your head, will also pour his rays
over mine; and, when you think on this,
remember the counsels of him whom you
may never see more. Be sober; remember
your God, and your fathers prayers will
INCREASINGLY be offered up to heaven for your
protection" The young man wept bitterly
and the poor parent, unable to stand the
scene longer, snatohed himself from him, and
in an instant was lost in the crowd. But,
| 10 the first bell has tolled-the first warn
ing given-and eyes which long were stran
gers to tears are now swollen with grief;
nearts which were reputed to be Of adamant
were now susceptible Of feeling; and strangers
as they beheld the fond mother giving up
her child to the care of the God Of the main,
or the lovely maiden parting with her be-
trothed, pledglng anon their undying love,
and sealing their VOWS with embraces which
gladdened even heaven, or the old school
triend-the companion Of more happy hours,
bidding q last farewelI-could not remain
unmoved. Now tolls the second bell; the
cheers Of men and the lamentations Of women
rend the air; all hands arc ordered forward
tho third bell tolls the last, the dying
hAOA '--1AV 10 ACAAvN~N anu OlO
Captains hoarse voice is heard above the
din, as he gives the word of command: Man
the windless-hoiet the anchor - whilst the
gallant tars, as they obey their orders, with
stentorian voices merily sing:
's With will-hol then pull away jolly boys;*
At the mercy of fortune we go,
| For to be down hearted-what folly, boys;
Then heave up, lads-yo, heave no
Of she goes, and # she must 60,
0 row, we roll and go!
| Brace her up, and then she must 60,
o row, we roll and go :"
Now We commenced to glide gently down the
bay. Along the quay the myTiads follow
us; from the windows and house-tops we are
hailed with ten thousand deafeniDg cheers;
| hats and handkerchiefs wave from every
| hand and the rush becomes still more tre-
mendous, as each endeavors to behold once
more some friend who is mounted in the rig
eing. They can come no farther; We have
arrived at the light house, and commence to
move moro swiftly on, with the cheers and
prayers Of those on shore ringing in our
ears as We recede from their sight At
length we are lost to their view, and in
few hours, with fair wind and merry crew,
are on our way for the promised land.
The day has passed, and a melancholy
gloom hangs over each countenance, as the
bright orb Of heaven is setting in the east
ern horizon Who that has witnessed the
swollen eyes and hesving breasts-who that
has heard the deep sighs Of anguish, or gaz'
ed on the exile as he watched the last glimpse
of his fatherland, that has not recalled to
his memory the sOul-inspiring lines Of By
ron p
"Adieu, adieu my native shore,
Fades o'er the waters blue;
The night winds sigh-the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild seamew.
Yon sun that sets upon the ssa
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile TO him and thee,
NV Native Land, Good Nightp'
The night fees away, the morning comes,
and speed we on. The novelty Of the scene,
and the tests Of the sailors, have made mat
ters assume more pleasing aspect, and BY
degrees we have buffeted both storm and en-
nasi, have passed Cape Clear, and for the first
time are in blue waters, mid dolphins, por-
poises, and Mother Carys Chickens. The
time passes merrily on till we arrive off the
Banks of New Foundland, when we become
solicitous about land, and think more seri-
ously on our position.
Nothing Of more interest than is usual on
q voyage across the Western Ocean occurs
till, after We have taken the pilot on board,
We frat see sight Of the glorious shores Of
our future home. But who can describe the
scene Who can portray the unbounded Joy
which gloWs on each countenanco; the heart
felt prayers which are silently offered up to
heaven; the enthusiasm which prevails; or
the ebulitions of friendship which charac-
terise so strongly those pilgrims from their
Island homo And now We come to the close
Of our long and tedious journey. The good
ship rides up your bay; we have anchored;
AID, with light heart, and burning patriot
ism, for the first time place our feet on the
shores of your Washington the home Of
the brave, and the land Of the free"
Good reader! have endesvored. though
imperfectly, for it would take an ADLER pen
than mine, to give you someidea Of the Irish
emiarants farewell to his native land.
have proven to you that he is not altogether
sn outcast; that he has feelings warm and
strong; that he has love, admiration, and
| sympathy; and have carried him across the
| blue waves of the Atlantic, and landed him
on your shores, teeming with all the comforts
which, from the misgovernment Of his own
I Eastern home, he has been, comparatively
speaking, q stranger; and, moreover, have
endeavOred to prove to you how ardently he
loves your happy land, and his thanks to the
| Almighty for enabling him to breathe pure
/ ly the free fresh air which from North to
South flows frsgrantlY over its bosom, 'Sweet
as the essence from Oraby the blest!" And
msy not now ask is not this son Of hope
sadly mistaken in the estimate he has made
Of our hospitahty--of our philanthropy 7
He believes that We arc Republicans; he has
|
These lines though not exactly the fairest spsci-
men OF nautical poetry, have very powerful effect
on the bystanders when sang BY merry crew