It seemed the whole of Dublin was awake through the night with people coming and going, with children crying and loud angry voices as men queued in the drizzling rain to be first in line before the early morning rush.
The next morning Michael woke up to a same loudness of noise, of shouting and the tramping of feet. Climbing to his feet he stretched out his arms, shaking off the coldness and damp which had crept into his bones.
“You let me sleep all night!” accused Mary as she climbed out from under the cart.
Michael smiled then pointed at the crowds which had congregated and were now making their way down to the waterfront.
“I think we ought to get our blankets rolled up.” said Michael. “We don’t want to miss the boat.”
He stood up on the cart and stared round above the heads of the crowds.
“I can’t see the man who’s supposed to come and take the pony and cart!” he shouted as he climbed down.
“He’ll be here. Don’t worry Michael. And if he doesn’t come then we’ll sell the lot to someone else and make more money.” said Mary as she urged them all to get the blankets rolled.
Beth and Sam joined in and they all set about tying the blankets into a bundle which Michael hoisted up around his shoulders.
“Just take the food that’s left and put it into the sack so we can share it out as we travel.” ordered Mary as she gave each member of the family two maize biscuits to chew on.
The man in green turned up right on seven o’clock, a strange looking man in green coat and britches and with strands of red hair seeming to spring out from beneath a green bonnet.
“I’ve come for the pony and cart.” he said, then stopped to point. “The horse is supposed to be hitched up to the cart, aint it?”
“If you just wait just a minute I’ll hitch the pony up and you can take it and those bits of furniture left on the cart.” obliged Michael as he hurried to back the pony into the traces and clamping the bit into its mouth.
The man in green waited as Michael hitched the pony and taking the reigns he then began to lead the pony and cart away.
“Wait!” shouted Mary, hurrying to stand in front of the man. “What happens to us?” she asked.
“You have to go and wait with the others at the Dock front.” came the reply.
“Wait? Wait where?” demanded Mary, not moving.
The man in green sighed loudly.
“I haven’t got time to show you. I have to be at the shipping offices at eight o’clock.”
Michael faced the man, his dark eyes becoming angry.
“Your man said you would show us what to do and where to go so you’re not going anywhere till you do your job!”
Again the man sighed.
“Show me your document. Did he give you a document?”
Michael drew out the document from his shirt and showed it to the man.
“There! Do you see!” exclaimed the man in green. “Do you see that large letter ‘D’? There! That one! It means you have to stand in the line which has the letter ‘D’ on the large sign overhead and that’s the dock where the ship will arrive to take you to Liverpool.”
“But the man who gave me this document told me that you would be taking us to the place. We were to wait until you came back from putting the pony and cart to shelter. Then you were to show us where to go.” said Michael.
“Wait here then and I’ll be back.” said the man.
He began to lead the pony and cart away, all the while mumbling and moaning under his breath. It was half an hour before the man returned.
“This way.” he said, now more cheerful as he began to push his way through the mass of people who crowded the Dock entrance.
“Keep hold of Sam’s hand, Beth. We don’t want to lose each other.” said Michael as they followed the man in green, who seemed quite ready to stop and argue with anyone who would not move readily out of his way.
At the dockside there stood a large group of people who queued up under a large board which had a capital ‘D’ painted on it in black.
“This is where you have to wait. Line up here with these other folk and when the ship arrives you’ll all be taken on board and put onto the deck which has the same letter ‘D’. Is that clear?”
Michael nodded and watched the man in green bully his way back through the crowd, which was growing ever larger by the minute.
“Are you all going to Liverpool and working for a Josiah Bambling?” Michael asked one of the men in the queue.
“I am.” replied the man. “But not all of us are. Some are to work for other companies. Some here are tradesmen, skilled and such. I’m just a farm-worker.”
“Much as myself.” said Michael. “I worked my own land under an English Lord who we never heard from once the potato blight started.”
This brought like comments from others further up the front of the queue, all being abandoned once the famine took hold.
“How long have we got to wait here?” asked Mary. “It’s cold and the children are hungry.”
“I’m told there are three ships a day that leave from here. Most of the people are only going to Liverpool to get other transporters which will carry them on journeys which can take months.” said the man.
“Even our trip to Liverpool will take hours, depending on the weather.” spoke a woman, who held a baby in her arms and two small children clinging to her skirts. “My man’s already in Liverpool and working there so I’ll meet him when the boat docks.”
At last the steamer arrived at the Dock. Having been used to transport coal, it was filthy, its decks still bearing the soot and coal-dust of a last journey. The crew simply herded the families below decks like sheep, cramming them in until the people felt they could not breathe.
“How long will the crossing take?” Michael asked one of the seamen.
“Three or four hours. It all depends on how choppy the Irish Sea is today but we’ll get you to Liverpool, either that or we’ll all drown in this old tub!” laughed the seaman.
“Come on there! Get some more in down there! There’s another hundred families to come!” shouted the First Mate, pushing the people along.
The people were packed in so tight that no-one could move. Some became sick, spewing up where they stood and unable to wipe themselves. Others fainted away, upright and unable to fall. The smell was unbearable with the hold jammed full of coughing and crying people.
“No wonder they call these old tubs ‘Coffin Ships’! We’ll be lucky if we aren’t all dead from suffocation before we even get to Liverpool!” shouted one man.
“We’re off!” shouted someone as the ship’s engine began to throb and the motion of the ship rolled even more as it took out to deeper water.
The noise below decks became even louder as the people began to pray, some singing to cover their fear. Sam began to cry as the crowd swayed to the motion as the ship rolled with the tide. Michael pushed against the crush to put the rolled-up blankets between his knees and to lift Sam up onto his shoulders while Mary held Beth tight into her. The smell got even worse as some became more seasick, others urinating where they stood. The air became foul and hot, so that hysteria and panic was about to stampede the mass towards the iron stairs, even though the hatches had been bolted down.
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