Behind this slightly confrontational question is a fascinating tale of the contribution of immigrants, reported by our Celtic diaspora correspondent Angus Young.
When the Romans rocked up in this neck of the woods – around 70AD – they steered clear of the marshland that would eventually become Hull and instead established a settlement in Brough. As a result, we can’t really answer the question about what they ever did for us. However, we can say with some degree of certainty that Hull owes a considerable debt to the Irish. As local historian and writer Rob Bell puts it: “The Irish came to Hull for the harvest, then to dig the docks and lay the rail tracks.”
Much of the city’s key infrastructure was originally put in place by Irish migrants, working in construction gangs who moved from one building scheme to another. Millions left Ireland after the 1840s Famine and while the majority headed to America and, closer to home, Liverpool, the lure of work in the rapidly-growing port of Hull eventually led to the establishment of an Irish community here.
Some of the navvies who came to Hull lived in temporary camps. One was set up in Pearson Park for workers hired to construct the nearby Hull to Barnsley railway line. Once the docks were built, many navvies stayed on to become the first generation of dockers. The first residential neighbourhood – known as Little Ireland – developed between Paragon railway station and Spring Bank and included a warren of terraced streets, many of which were eventually swept away with the development of Ferensway in the 1930s. The Irish influence even led to a pub in Brook Street called the Acorn being re-named the Dublin Hotel in 1882.
A reminder of those days can be seen in Spring Street where the former St Patrick’s Roman Catholic Church, built in 1905, still stands. The larger, more grandiose St.Charles Borromeo in Jarratt Street is also still in use as a church having first opened in 1829. Two Irishmen who settled in Hull in the mid-19th century also played a key part in improving public health in the city.
Originally from County Meath, Dr Owen Daly came to live in Hull in the 1840s when he became a physician at Hull Royal Infirmary. He also worked as a lecturer at the Hull and East Riding School of Medicine and was a founding member of the Hull Medical Society. Daly led the public health response to a deadly outbreak of cholera in the city and was joined by fellow Irishman Edward Collins who, as editor and owner of the Hull Advertiser newspaper, campaigned to clear long-standing slums where the disease thrived.
Collins called for physical improvements such as surfaced roads, new drains, street lighting and the opening of more public baths as well as advocating measures to control and eradicate disease such as regular collections of refuse and tougher regulation on certain trades. He was considered a radical by campaigning on behalf of the poor, many of whom were Irish cotton spinners working in mills near the River Hull.
Unusually for the time, he put the importance of public health ahead of religion and was duly criticised for his stance. In one editorial he wrote: “We cannot but regret that, whilst so many of the clergy of Hull take great trouble to inoculate the minds of the people with uncharitable and ignorant prejudice against the imaginary danger of the Popery, not one of them has come forward to organise a movement against the prevention of sickness by the frequent use of excellent public baths.”
The work of Daly and Collins would pave the way for a public health revolution in Hull. As Rob Bell observes: “Hull’s Irish contribution – navvies, infrastructure, education and above all the earliest campaigners for public health – is an object lesson in how the challenge of absorbing a migrant community translates into being an essential ingredient for innovation and progress.”
Angus Young