By this time, 1.5 years into the worst starvation Ireland had experienced in the 19th century, the death and destruction of famine was gaining international headlines. Accounts were so horrific that many thought they were exaggerated, alas, it was not the case. Several went themselves to establish the truth only to find it worse than they imagined.
One of these witnesses, Mr Nicholas Cummins, a Cork magistrate, wrote an open letter to the Duke of Wellington, begging him to help the native population. It was published in The London Times on Christmas Eve, 1846: as described by Peter Foynes book: The Great Famine in Skibbereen
“I … went … to Skibbereen … the scenes that presented themselves were such as no tongue or pen can convey the slightest idea of … famished and ghostly skeletons … such frightful specters as no words can describe … Their demonic yells are still ringing in my ear”
The letter graphicly described the horror and suffering of the population who had no money to buy food. Any money they had was for extortionate rent payments, for squalid dwellings, to absentee landlords who enjoyed fine dining and other luxuries in Europe’s major cities. Sir Randolph Routh tells Charles Trevclyan (he was with the ruling liberal government and was in charge of the famine policy) that the proprietors of Skibbereen drew an annual income of £50,000. Trevelyan, an advocate of laissez-faire economics, had closed the food depots in Ireland; his reasoning, was to prevent the Irish becoming habitually dependent” on the British government. His openly stated desire was to make “Irish property support Irish poverty.”
Nicholas Cummins set out to Skibbereen with as much bread as 5 men could carry. His subsequent reports made harrowing reading.
I entered some of the hovels to ascertain the cause, and the scenes that presented themselves were such no tongue or pen can convey the slightest idea of. In the first six famished and ghastly skeletons, to all appearance dead, were huddled in a corner on some filthy straw, their sole covering what seemed a ragged horse-cloth, naked above the knees. I approached in horror, and found by a low moaning they were alive, they were in fever – four children, a woman, and at what had once been a man. It is impossible to go through the details, suffice to say, that in a few minutes I was surrounded by at least 200 of such phantoms, such frightful spectres as no words can describe. By far the greater number were delirious, either from famine or fever. Their demonic yells are still yelling in my ears, and their horrible images and fixed upon my brain.
My heart sickens at the recital, but I must go on. In another case – decency would forbid what follows, but it must be told – my clothes were nearly torn off in my endeavours to escape from the throng of pestilence around, when my neck cloth was seized from behind by a grip which compelled me to turn. I found myself grasped by a woman with an infant, just born, in her arms, and the remains of a filthy sack across her loins – the sole covering of herself and babe.
“The same morning the police opened a house on the adjoining lands and two corpses were found, half devoured by rats. A mother, herself in a fever, was seen the same day to drag out the corpse of her child, a girl about 12, perfectly naked, and leave it half covered with stones. In another house, within 500 yards of the cavalry station, the dispensary doctor found seven wretches lying unable to move under the same cloak. One had been dead many hours, but the others were unable to move either themselves or the corpse.”
His letter continued on and begged the Duke and the authorities to send food and help and to forward his letter to Queen Victoria in the hope she would act. He also sent copies of his letter to many newspapers and it received widespread worldwide attention from its publication in the London Times. It is one of the most well known documents of the famine.
In 2020, the letter was verified by investigative work carried out by the Cork Public Museum and Skibbereen Heritage Manager, Terri Kearney, who tracked down a living descendent of Nicholas Cummins (also a Nicholas Cummins) who confirmed the letter was that of the signatory by matching it with several letters held by the family.