The Exile Breed

by Charles Egan

‘This way,’ she said.

  She led him along another corridor, and ushered him through a door. He saw at once this was nothing like the rest of Vauxhall.

  The room he entered was well appointed. He could see the carpets were expensive. The back of the house had wide sash windows, looking into a high-walled garden.

  A man strode across to him. He was tall, and elderly.

  ‘Mr. Ryan.’

  ‘Daniel Ryan,’ Danny said. ‘And Mr. Brady, I presume.’

  ‘Indeed, Mr. Ryan. Sit here, and relax yourself.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Danny said, still on his guard.

  ‘So you know Jamesy McManus, do you?’

  ‘For many years. He comes from the same part of Mayo as I do. We studied together, we worked together, now Jamesy works for me as a ganger.’

  ‘A ganger?’

  ‘On the railways.’

  ‘I see,’ Brady said. ‘You’re a labour contractor, Mr. Ryan?’

  ‘I am. Being from Mayo, we’ve many Mayo gangs.’

  ‘Ah yes, Mayo. As you might know, I’m from Cavan myself. Jamesy’s grandmother and my grandfather were sister and brother. She married into County Mayo.’

  Tea had been prepared. The woman handed Danny a cup.

  ‘Milk or sugar?’ she asked.

  ‘Both,’ Danny said with a smile.

  ‘So what can I do to help you?’ Brady asked. ‘Jamesy mentioned something about a ship.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Danny said. ‘The Altair she’s called. A cattle ship, for the most part. We’ve a load of men coming from Westport on the Altair. Two or three hundred, all told. We’ve work ready for them on a number of cuttings we’re constructing around Manchester.’

  ‘Of course,’ Brady said. ‘A lot of work around Manchester, I believe.’

  ‘Indeed. That’s why I have so much call for labour. But I believe a possible problem has arisen, in that many of the ships from Ireland are being turned around without unloading. With the contracts we hold, we couldn’t possibly let that happen.’

  ‘So that’s why you come here.’

  ‘Exactly. Jamesy is running a cutting for us. He has a sizeable call for labour, and it was he who said that his cousin might be able to help. And that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘Yes,’ Brady said, ‘I can see your problem. Nothing to fear though, something can surely be organised.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ Danny said. ‘This is a vital matter for us.’

  ‘So when is the ship due?’

  ‘Today was the date I’d been given, but the fellow in the harbourmaster’s office says it might be this afternoon, this evening or tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s short notice.’

  ‘It’s all the notice I got.’

  ‘Which dock?’

  ‘The Clarence.’

  ‘Well, no need worrying about that. I’ll send one of the runners down, keep an eye on the dock. He should spot it when it’s a good two hours out. He’ll stay all night, if need be.’

  ‘Fine so.’

  ‘Where will you be?’

  ‘I have some business over the next hour or so,’ Danny said. ‘After that I’ll rest in the Adelphi hotel. I’ll stay there overnight if I have to.’

  ‘Good,’ Brady said. ‘No need worrying yourself. We’ll meet the ship, I guarantee it. And the Adelphi to the Clarence Dock is no more than twenty minutes.’

  Brady sipped his tea.

  ‘There will be a charge for services.’

  ‘Of course,’ Danny said. ‘How much?’

  ‘Ten pounds. You should also allow for a pound at the top end for greasing one or two palms at the dock.’

  ‘That would be fine,’ Danny said. ‘Cash on delivery?’

  ‘Of course. We only charge when the goods have been delivered. There is one other point I must stress. Even with greased palms, the goods must leave Liverpool at once. They will be accompanied to the station, and must be loaded on the wagons, and be seen to leave the city.’

  ‘I understand,’ Danny said.

  When Danny left the house in Vauxhall, he walked directly to Liverpool Workhouse.

  There was a guard on the gate, where many people were trying to gain admission. The guard spotted the quality of his coat, and let him through a side gate, where he was directed to a small office.

  ‘Daniel Ryan,’ he explained to the man inside. ‘Brother of Murtybeg Ryan.’

  The man looked at him in some bewilderment.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked. ‘You mean Martin Ryan? The Irish fellow.’

  ‘Martin’, Danny thought. Smart move that, Murteen.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘it’s just in the family we call him by a class of a nickname.’

  ‘This way, please.’

  A few minutes later he found himself sitting with one of the Workhouse clerks.

  ‘Daniel Ryan,’ the clerk said. ‘Martin has told me a lot about you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Danny said, ‘so there’s no need to introduce Edwardes & Ryan, I’d say.’

  ‘Of course not. You’re well known in Liverpool Workhouse.’

  ‘We’ve done a lot of business together,’ Danny said

  ‘And we’ll do more in the future, no doubt. Things are a little slow at the moment though. I don’t have to tell you about the fever around Liverpool, and it’s creating havoc in the Workhouse. Typhus and dysentery. It’s hard enough finding young fellows not coming down with one illness or the other. Also, Liverpool Corporation is trying to limit the numbers of Irish coming in through the port. The people are terrified of fever. The last time Martin came by, we gave him – what was it? – twenty two young lads, though I understand he needed much more.’

  ‘He did. And we still do.’

  ‘Well, we’ll have to be patient. If you send him back, let’s say in two weeks, we should have more for him. I don’t know how many, but whatever we have, we’ll give you.’

  ‘Fine so,’ Danny said.

  As he went to the door he stopped.

  ‘Oh, one other thing I almost forgot. There’s a friend of ours came over to Liverpool, and we haven’t heard from him since. I just thought he might be in the Workhouse.’

  ‘And his name?’

  ‘James Corrigan.’

  ‘Come this way.’

  He brought Danny into another office, where he pulled down a large volume.

  ‘Any idea when he might have come in?’

  Danny thought back to that day when he and Murtybeg had given Corrigan a beating.

  ‘About eight or nine months back.’

  The clerk ran his fingers down the columns.

  ‘Ah yes,’ he said. ‘James Corrigan. Kilduff, is it? County Mayo.’

  ‘That’s the man,’ Danny said.

  ‘I’m very sorry to inform you, Mr. Ryan, Mr. Corrigan died last month.’

  ‘What! How?’

  ‘Typhus.’

  Danny left the Workhouse. The news of Corrigan’s death had surprised him. He had not expected that. Now, at least, there was no requirement for restitution.

  He stayed in the Adelphi that night. He woke early, and checked with the hotel staff, but no one had been looking for him.

  He had a good breakfast, then he sat in the lounge, near the entrance, sipping a coffee, thrumming his fingers impatiently.

  Then the runner arrived. The doorman pointed him across to Danny.

  ‘Mr. Ryan.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She’ll be docking very soon, Mr. Ryan.’

  Danny paid his bill, leaving his valise with the porter. He followed the boy down to the dock. Brady was waiting. The ship was still in the Mersey, coming closer. There were many dock workers, waiting to tie up the ship. There were nine other men, one in the uniform of the Port of Liverpool, and eight policemen.

  ‘Ye needn’t worry about them,’ Brady told him, nodding to the police. ‘Thirty shillings extra for special services, though. A little more than I thought. They’re reckoning they’ll need e
ight police to accompany your goods to the station. They’re not used to such high numbers.’

  ‘I understand,’ Danny said.

  When the ship had docked, Murtybeg was the first off.

  ‘Danny. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’

  ‘I thought it better to be sure than sorry,’ Danny said. ‘We had to make sure that you’d be able to land your cargo. There’s far too much depending on it.’

  Murtybeg looked at the group of police.

  ‘Is this what you call making sure? I doubt this lot are going to let us through.’

  ‘Oh, but they are,’ Danny said. ‘The peelers are here to help us. They’ll protect us on the way to the trains.’

  Murtybeg returned to the ship, as the mass of men started coming down the gangway. Under his instructions, they formed six lines.

  Brady came alongside. Danny counted out eleven sovereigns, together with four half-crowns. ‘As agreed, then?’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Brady. He strode away from the dock, being watched closely by the official and the police.

  ‘Who was that?’ Murtybeg asked.

  ‘Never mind.’

  The unloading went on.

  ‘How many?’ Danny asked, when all was complete.

  ‘Started out as two hundred and thirty four. Lost two dead on the voyage.’

  ‘I knew you could do it, Murteen.’

  ‘Did I have any choice?’ Murtybeg asked.

  Danny smiled. ‘Not much.’

  He accompanied Murtybeg, as the police led the group of men towards Lime Street Station. When they arrived, Danny stood alongside the wagons, counting as the men were loaded.

  ‘Exact as always,’ he said to Murtybeg. ‘Two hundred and thirty two.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Now, what I’d like you to do is bring them over to Lavan’s site for the night. Tell Bernie to sort out whatever is needed for all the Anderson sites, including Ancoats, and tell him to take them there. I’m sure Bernie can be spared for a day or two, seeing as it’s the weekend. They shouldn’t need too many, certainly less than a hundred between the four sites. Then take the rest straight down to the North Staffordshire railway. Johnny Roughneen has taken over, and I understand he’s got some shacks for this lot. Go down as far as Stoke, and you should be able to get instructions for our site easy enough.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Murtybeg.

  Danny returned to the Adelphi, collected his valise, and took a cab to the station.

  That evening, he told Murty about Corrigan’s death. As he anticipated, his father was furious. He blamed Danny and Murtybeg for Corrigan’s death. Danny protested that Corrigan could have gotten typhus anywhere in Liverpool, but Murty did not accept that. He was angry too that it was impossible to make any restitution directly to Corrigan. He demanded it should be made to the Corrigan family in any case, but Danny refused to accept this.

  He visited the Brassey site again. This was far more important to Edwardes & Ryan than Ancoats would ever be. The light rain had stopped. It was warm for autumn. He arrived, and stood outside the work area, watching. The edges of the cutting had been marked off with stakes driven into the ground. Throughout the site, the topsoil was being removed. It was soft enough. Danny knew the real work would begin once they hit shale. Or even worse, rock.

  He saw the site hut a hundred yards away. He walked across. Roughneen stood outside, a chart in his hand. He scowled at it, looking up occasionally at the site.

  ‘Doing well, Johnny?’

  ‘My God, Danny, don’t sneak up on me like that.’

  ‘Anything wrong?’

  ‘Nothing so far. I’m just trying to see it all in my own mind, what it’s like now and what it’s going to be.’

  ‘You got the new fellows from Murtybeg, did you?’

  ‘That’s them. A hundred and forty he brought, that’s all. They’ve only just started.’

  ‘They’re working very slowly.’

  ‘You always say that Danny. Don’t worry. We’ll have them working faster in a week or two.’

  ‘And the shacks?’

  ‘Just behind the hedge over there.’

  ‘Let’s have a look.’

  They crossed the site to the hedge. When they went behind, Danny drew back in surprise.

  ‘Is this it? Mud cabins.’

  ‘It’s what we’re doing for now,’ Roughneen replied. ‘We got some bits and pieces of crates around for the roofs. Keeps the rain off and the wind out. I’m intending on having something better before winter, but that will cost money.’

  Danny shook his head. ‘My God, Johnny, they’re tighter than we’ve done before.’

  ‘No tighter than the sceilps back home, from all I hear. But you’re right, Danny, we’ve got to get better shacks before the winter.’

  Danny walked towards a hut, standing a hundred yards off.

  ‘No need to go nearer,’ Roughneen shouted after him. Danny turned back.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Fever. Three only, but we’ve got to keep them apart.’

  Danny swore softly. They walked back towards Roughneen’s office.

  ‘We’ll have to do something about those huts,’ Danny said.

  ‘I know. I’ve it underway already. I’ve managed to find some timber – offcuts from some of the local saw-mills and some rafters from demolitions. That way, we won’t be needing mud cabins. We’ll need more timber though. Sewage pipes too. No doubting that.’

  ‘This’ll all cost money.’

  ‘It will,’ Roughneen said. ‘It’ll cost more if we lose the contract though.’

  ‘Any other problems, Johnny?’

  ‘Not so much with the site itself. It’s the locals, that’s where the problem is. Them and the other navvies. They’re all convinced the Irish are bringing fever across, and if it don’t kill them, they reckon the Irish are taking their jobs anyhow.’

  Danny laughed. ‘I wouldn’t blame them for that,’ he said. ‘We are taking their jobs from them. But we better make sure not to be giving them fever.’

  When they reached Roughneen’s office, they spent some time going through maps, distances, measurements, cubic yards to be removed, estimated wage costs, requirements for implements, carts and horses, and many other things.

  After quite some time, they finished and stepped outside. Roughneen glanced up, and then looked more closely.

  ‘I wonder who that is over there.’

  A coach had drawn up on the other side of the site. Already, the coachman had dismounted and opened the door, as two men stepped out.

  Danny knew, even from that distance, that the coach was an expensive one.

  ‘Let’s see what this is all about,’ he said to Roughneen. They strode across the site, as the two men came towards them.

  ‘Good God,’ Danny gasped, as they drew closer. ‘It’s Brassey!’

  He went across and held out his hand.

  ‘Mr. Brassey. I’m Daniel Ryan.’

  Brassey smiled.

  ‘Ah yes, Mr. Ryan, delighted to meet you. And this is Edwin Kane. One of my senior managers.’

  Danny introduced Roughneen as his site manager. Brassey eyed him closely, assessing him perhaps.

  ‘I’d like a general look round,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’d both be so good as to accompany us.’

  As he walked, Brassey watched the working lines of men very closely.

  ‘They’re very slow, Mr. Ryan. Do you think you can make our deadlines?’

  ‘We always complete on time, Mr. Brassey…’

  ‘Yes,’ Brassey interrupted, ‘I’d heard that. But at this rate, and this number of workers?’

  ‘I can understand your concerns, Mr. Brassey,’ Danny said, ‘but you have to remember two key points. First, these men have just been brought over from Ireland. They’re not like men who have been working for years on the railways. Some of them had been strong enough before…’

  ‘Yes,’ Brassey interjected, ‘but now the Famine…’


  ‘Just so,’ Danny said. ‘As soon as we get them here we feed them well. Very well. Two pounds weight of beef or mutton a day, and ten pounds of potatoes.’

  No need to mention that ‘beef or mutton’ was chiefly offal. It all came from cattle or sheep.

  ‘Yes,’ Roughneen added, ‘if we feed them well, and exercise them well, within weeks we will have them up to a good rate of work. But there is a second factor. We have only started on the contract, so we don’t have a full labour force as yet. Our plans are to double or treble that. Perhaps four hundred men in total. It might take three or four weeks yet, but we will do it.’

  The four men walked to Roughneen’s shed. Now Brassey interrogated them far more closely. For the next hour, they went through all the maps, figures and calculations that Danny and Roughneen had been working on earlier.

  Then he shook hands with both Danny and Roughneen.

  ‘I’m afraid we both have to go now,’ he said. ‘But I can assure you, if you complete on budget and in time, there will be more contracts for you. Should you have any problems though, Mr. Kane here is based at our main office for the North Staffordshire at Stoke. Equally, he will drop by from time to time.’

  After Brassey and Kane had left, Danny walked with Roughneen down to the site entrance.

  ‘My God,’ Roughneen said, ‘it felt like I was in school again. Even your father, he’d never throw questions at us that fast.’

  ‘Damned right, he wouldn’t,’ Danny responded ‘I feel all wrung out myself. Still, Johnny, I think we passed our first examination. And thank God he didn’t come by the other road. If he’d seen the mud cabins we’d have failed, there and then. It’s like you said, we’ll need more timber to replace them.’

  ‘I’ll get on to it.’

  ‘Do that. Still, Johnny. More Brassey contracts ahead. Did you hear that? Did you?’

  ‘Loud and clear, Danny. Now all you got to do is get the workers for me. These lot are fine to start with, but we’ll need more.’

  ‘Ah yes, I was thinking of that,’ Danny said. ‘And I noticed how quick you were to commit me to four hundred men, you bastard.’

  That evening, as Danny prepared for bed, he could see that Irene was angry.

  ‘What’s wrong, my dear?’

  ‘Having your parents here. This is not going to work.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘There’s a lot of reasons. But let’s start with your mother. Have you seen the condition of her?’