Diane Songco – Page 2 – The Peopling of New York City

Irish Struggle in “Gangs of New York”

Scene approximately 1:12:00

In this scene, Bill Cutting refuses to help William Tweed get Irish immigrants to vote. Cutting, a powerful nativist, acknowledges his ties with Tammany Hall but refuses this act because he believes it will “befoul” his father’s legacy and the American name. Tweed says that by refusing to include the Irish, Cutting is “turning his back on the future,” to which Cutting replies that they have different ideas of what their future could hold. Uplifting patriotic music can be heard throughout Cutting’s dialogue, which is juxtaposed by the backward-minded thinking of his words. Amsterdam is silent throughout this encounter, though his facial expressions suggest he is unsettled by this conversation and what it implies for his sense of being – an Irish American working for a racist and corrupt man who looks down on his entire race. Cutting’s brutally honest words also remind Amsterdam of his real motive to avenge his father’s murder, who died upholding the Irish name.

As Amsterdam and Cutting walk away from Tweed, they pass by a line of young men enlisting in the Union Army. The camera slowly pans away from the two main characters and onto the point of view of a passerby on the street, where this line of immigrant men wait to join the war. The man at the table specifies that one paper represents their citizenship and the other paper represents their enlistment in the Union Army, sending them off by declaring, “Now go fight for your country!” These immigrants, most of them Irish presumably, are dressed in dirty clothes and carry their belongings in tied-up sacks. They are what nativists like Cutting look down upon, though their very action of enlisting contradicts what Cutting claims. These Irishmen are preparing to fight in the war, providing a massive service to their country and its people.

During this scene, the patriotic music played earlier on transitions into a rendition of “Paddy’s Lamentation.” The camera shifts from the enlistment line to soldiers dressed in uniform over the lyrics “But when we got to Yankee land/ They shoved a gun into our hands/ Saying Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln.” These lyrics precisely describe what is unfolding in this scene, and its sad, wistful melody represents the struggles of Irish immigrants. The camera then changes to a bird’s eye point of view, where soldiers can be seen loading into one ship as coffins are being unloaded in the ship right next to them. This scene unfolds during a bright sunny day on a busy port in New York: what should be a happy setting is juxtaposed by the sad reality of war, poverty, and racism. As the scene fades out, the lyrics “I wish I were at home in dear old Dublin” plays, and viewers are left sympathizing with the Irish Immigrant struggle and rooting for Amsterdam’s cause.

The First Alien Wave: An Informative Summary

In “The First Alien Wave,” Nell Irvin Painter discusses the struggles of Irish Immigrants following the Great Famine of 1845. This mass immigration sparked waves of nativism and negative stereotypes towards the Irish, capitalizing on their Catholic religion and poverty. Another significant immigrant group, the Germans, were subjected to less hatred by the American people in part because of their less controversial Protestant religion and well-known wealthy individuals like Johann Jakob Astor. The Germans were able to settle into American life while Irish stereotypes and discrimination persisted.

The Irish were an easy target for discrimination because of deeply ingrained anti-Catholicism in America. Irish Protestant immigrants from the 1820s were able to easily settle in America, but Irish Catholics that immigrated post-1830s were met with anti-Catholic sentiment. By the mid-1830s, many anti-Catholic journals and organizations existed in New York and New England. Ministers like Lyman Beecher began preaching violent anti-Catholic sermons, setting off a series of church burnings throughout New England and the Midwest. The expose Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk also made the Catholic church look even worse. Monk’s tales of rape and murder of newborns within the church made the religion look “inherently sexually immoral” (137). While Monk’s allegations were later proved false, it still took a massive hit on the Catholic church and the many Irish that belonged to it.

The “Paddy” stereotype was another damaging view of Irish Americans. Ralph Waldo Emerson referred to the poor Irish as “Paddies,” using stereotypes taken from Richard Steele’s description of the “Poor Paddy” (139). Most Irish worked low paying jobs and became known for their fondness of alcohol, painting them as drunk and lazy to the rest of society. Phrases like “paddy doyle” and “paddywagon” perpetuated this negative stereotype, and linked the Irish to crime and poverty. Cartoons also played a big role in spreading this stereotype, depicting the Irish as ape-like and animalistic, a view strengthened by the writings of respected essayists like Thomas Carlyle, who called Ireland a “human dog kennel” (134). Cartoons of the Irish frequently paralleled them with African Americans who were also seen as inferior.

The rest of American society looked down upon Irish Americans, and often compared them to other minorities that faced discrimination. Upon seeing the Ireland famine firsthand, Frederick Douglass compared the conditions of the poor Irish to those of enslaved African Americans. However, instead of embracing common struggles with the African Americans, Irish Americans made attempts to distance themselves from these parallels, like supporting pro-slavery actions and participating in violent acts towards African Americans during the 1863 Draft Riots.

America during the 1840s saw a rise in nativism, and the prime targets were the Irish and any other group that was not white Protestant. The Know-Nothing Party hated Catholics and participated in the various church burnings and mob violence against Catholics. Over time, the Know-Nothing Party split between the Republicans and Democrats over the issue of slavery, and eventually fizzled out.

But even with the end of this political party, nativism was still strong, and the Irish were still seen as inferior along with the enslaved African Americans. Despite their poverty and stereotypes, the Irish still had their “whiteness,” as Painter describes in the concluding sentence. The Irish and African Americans were seen as separate from the rest of American society, but their skin color still played a role in the way they were treated and perceived by others.

Memories Through Ancestry

In the first sentence of “In Search of the Banished Children,” Peter Quinn defines the word memory as “familial, tribal, communal, the seepage into our minds of other memories,” things from our past that are completely unique to each individual and stem from one’s surroundings, namely one’s family. Quinn goes on to describe his upbringing, and how his search for more information on his Irish ancestry began despite his growing up in a “family that asked few questions about the past” (43). Quinn’s roots go back to the Great Famine of the 1840s, but like many descendants of these Famine immigrants, Quinn has no artifacts or family memories from that time period save for certain details about his great-grandfather, Michael Manning, but he even doubts the credibility of those stories. Quinn resolves to find out more about his Irish ancestry despite the “silence” of memories from the time period of the Great Migration. He explores the factual and statistical side found in books and historians, and also goes directly to the source: Skibbereen, Ireland, where he hears a story about an old man that he imagines to be his great grandfather’s brother, Robert Manning.

Quinn is able to come to terms with not knowing the specifics about his ancestry. He may only have generic information about Irish presence in the 1840s, but he grew up surrounded by the influence of the Famine immigrants – the churches, schools, and other organizations founded during the time of the Great Migration. These institutions count as memories for Quinn, and support his definition of memories – entities that stem from one’s surroundings and familial bonds.