Chapter 112
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: To the Land of Opportunity (2)
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[To the Land of Opportunity!]
[Escape from potatoes and milk!]
[A new life in a new place!]
As the immigration policy was officially launched, promotional materials were distributed throughout Ireland, drawing a considerable number of Irish people.
The primary motivation for most was the desire not to pass down a life of eating only potatoes and milk to their children.
“I can endure it, but I can't let my children live this life, can I?”
“We'd be lucky to just have potatoes. For the next few years, we'll have to eat rutabagas too.”
“I can just bear it and eat, but having my child eat that for their whole life... it's just too much.”
“Let’s go to Canada! At least it must be better there than here.”
“I even got a letter from someone who went ahead. They said it's not lavish, but there's far more of a future there than here!”
“Rather than pass down a life of shoveling potatoes for generations, I'm going to make a proper start in a new place!”
Once the rumors caught fire, far more people than initially expected flocked to leave Ireland for Canada.
However, the decision to leave their beloved homeland and cross the sea to the New World could not have been an easy one.
This wasn't simply because they were poor.
No matter how poor they were now, if they believed things would eventually get better, it would be natural to want to stay in their homeland.
But no one knew how much more time was needed for the structure of Ireland to change.
For one, the place was far too crowded.
Everyone was well aware that it would take at least several decades for all of Ireland to live a life comparable to that of the English.
In that case, wouldn't it be better to take a bold gamble in a new land rather than wait?
Of course, there was no guarantee that life in Canada would be better than in Ireland.
But even at its worst, it wouldn't be much different from their rooted life here, so what was there to lose?
Adding to this was their absolute faith in Killian Gore, which played a significant part.
To the Irish people at present, Killian was almost a godlike figure.
A prodigy who, at the mere age of 21, had risen to the top echelons of the British Empire on his own merit.
Even the Prime Minister of the British Empire, not to mention the Queen herself, listened to Killian's words and turned them into policy.
Rumors circulated that Queen Victoria was infatuated with Killian, but this was regarded as little more than the fervent wishful thinking of the Irish people.
Regardless, it was a fact that Killian held considerable influence within the British Empire, and this policy was being carried out under his sole direction, from start to finish.
Therefore, they couldn't help but be convinced that it would never bring harm to the Irish people.
This was the mindset of most of the Irish people heading to Canada.
The Daly family, who had boarded a ship bound for Canada, was no exception.
“Dear, they say we'll be arriving in Canada soon. How are you feeling?”
“I'm fine. To be honest, my heart feels heavier than my body. I try not to worry, but I can't help feeling anxious…”
“That's understandable. But don't worry. Remember, the Whelans, who immigrated a little earlier than us, sent a letter. They said living there is a much more hopeful life than spending a lifetime as a tenant farmer.”
“I suppose so, right? Are you going to farm when we get there?”
“No. I've thought about it, and I don't think just farming will be much different from our life in Ireland. I hear they're building a lot of factories in Canada right now. They say they need a lot of workers, so I plan to work there and learn a trade.”
“Factory work is hard, and the pay is low. Will that be okay?”
There were many factories in Britain, but few were unaware of the harsh conditions the laborers worked in.
However, for Daly, his own hardship was not a major concern.
“I might struggle for a while, but once I learn a skill, I'll be able to move up later. And our son, Marcus, will be able to find a job in better conditions than I ever could.”
Who knew? Perhaps his son, Marcus Daly, would one day grow up to be a highly successful businessman in the New World.
Though it was just a dream, it was a fantasy he would never have dared to entertain back in Ireland.
“The way I see it, the Minister plans to focus on developing Canada. So, working where he's investing his efforts will give us a better chance of seizing an opportunity, right?”
“Now that you mention it, that seems right.”
“Exactly! Just you watch. In this new land, I will definitely be more successful than I ever was in Ireland.”
Humans are creatures who can find motivation as long as they have hope.
Shortly after arriving in Canada from Ireland, the Daly family was certain they had made the right choice.
The endlessly sprawling, vast land, and the enormous lake so huge it was hard to tell if it was a sea or a lake.
And the grandeur of the new city being built around that lake.
The future was here.
“We were right to trust the Minister.”
What must Killian, the architect of this grand plan, be feeling?
He was probably celebrating the splendid realization of his vision, gracefully sipping a glass of wine, wouldn't he?
If not him, then at least his son.
One day, he would surely rise to a position where he could meet the Minister in person and offer his gratitude.
And so, the settlement of the Irish in Canada was proceeding more smoothly than expected.
***
The man the Irish most wanted to emulate.
The object of the Irish people's admiration.
The capable man smoothly executing a massive immigration policy that had worried everyone.
Charles Bagot, the Governor-General of Canada, who was now to serve such an envied man, felt his heart pound with anticipation.
It wasn't just the Irish; countless people admired Killian, and Charles Bagot was one of them.
It might seem odd for a middle-aged man of sixty to admire someone so much younger than himself.
To be precise, it was more like wonder than admiration.
Having served as a diplomat since his youth, he knew better than anyone how remarkable Killian's achievements were.
The negotiations with the Qing Dynasty, the subsequent war, and its conclusion were a work of art that one could not help but admire.
He could say with certainty.
Anyone who saw that and felt nothing was unfit to be a diplomat.
He wasn't trying to leverage connections, but he did have a small personal tie to Killian.
His wife, Anna Wellesley, was none other than the Duke of Wellington's niece, and Killian was considered a political partner to Anna's cousin, Charles Wellesley.
Because of this connection, he had recently received a letter from Charles Wellesley, now Prime Minister, asking him to cooperate fully with Killian's policies.
Of course, even without being told, he had no intention of raising objections to any policy Killian sought to implement.
More than that, he was eager to meet the genius who held the title of the youngest minister in the history of the British Empire.
The reason he had come all the way to the port to greet Killian's ship in person was his desire to see him even one second sooner.
Finally, as the Minister's ship let out a plume of steam and docked at the port, its doors opening, his chest swelled with even greater anticipation.
What kind of man would he be?
Would he be the type whose genius flashed brightly, or one who stood out for his cool, rational demeanor?
Soon, a tall young man disembarked from the ship, attended by an honor guard of soldiers, and Bagot reflexively rushed forward to greet him politely.
“You must be tired from your long journey. I am Charles Bagot, and I have been serving as the Governor-General of Canada since this year!”
“I didn't expect the Governor-General himself to come and greet me. This is my first time in Canada, so I have much to learn. I look forward to working with you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. But, if you don't mind my asking, are you feeling unwell?”
Seeing him bow his head politely was endearing, but the dark circles under his eyes made him look as if he hadn't slept a wink.
He had prepared various welcoming events to make a good impression, but in that state, Killian might find it hard to enjoy them.
“It's not that. I've been organizing work materials on the way from London, so I've been getting less than four hours of sleep a day. I suppose the fatigue has built up a little.”
“Oh dear. In that case, you should go and get some rest at once. I have already arranged a comfortable residence for you.”
“No. I still have too much work to do. I must finish it as quickly as possible, so I would be grateful for your assistance, Governor-General.”
He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw a man who appeared to be Killian's secretary standing beside him, holding a mountain of documents.
Could it be that he had been reviewing those documents the entire way to Canada?
In that moment, Bagot felt a sharp sense of shame—as a Governor-General, as a diplomat, and as an official of the British Empire.
Even for a genius, how could one reach such a high position at such a young age without being backed by such effort?
His fame throughout the British Empire as the youngest minister was only possible because it was supported by such hard work.
And he had tried to dismiss it all with the simple thought that it was just because he was a genius, because he had a rare, innate talent.
“Leave it to me, Minister! I will help as well!”
“...Pardon? Ah, yes. Thank you. I didn't expect you to be so enthusiastic, but I am truly grateful.”
“Not at all. When you, the Minister, are leading by example like this, how could I, the Governor-General, act high and mighty?”
The Governor-General was deeply impressed by the sight of the Minister working day and night for the British Empire, despite his youth.
Perhaps what he should emulate was not Killian's talent or instincts, but that passion and patriotism.
Charles Bagot, the Governor-General of Canada, firmly resolved to help Killian Gore turn this colony into the British Empire's most vital strategic location.
***
Wasn't this the very definition of groaning under the weight of a self-inflicted disaster?
No matter how I thought about it, I should have compromised on two years, not one.
I had harbored some hope that I could somehow finish all the work, but the world was not so easy.
It was so bad that I had reviewed all my tasks even before leaving London and planned everything on the ship, sacrificing sleep, yet I still hadn't even properly begun.
Still, the silver lining was that the Governor-General of Canada was far more cooperative than I had anticipated.
I hadn't expected him to be hostile, given his deep ties to the Wellesley family, but he also seemed incredibly passionate about his own work.
He kept talking about being a patriot and such during the welcoming ceremony; perhaps he had a strong desire to faithfully carry out his duties as Governor-General and contribute to the interests of the British Empire.
I don't know what misunderstanding led him to this, but it's not bad for me if he willingly pledges his loyalty.
I have to shorten this work period and get back to London one way or another, or I might end up like a crushed strawberry at Victoria's hands.
“Minister, here is the progress report on the tasks you assigned. It seems you'll be able to review the general progress before you depart for the United States.”
“Thank you. The development projects are progressing well.”
“Yes. First, large-scale factory facilities are scheduled to be built one after another in the Toronto area. It seems we'll be able to implement not only the Erie Canal but also the current railway construction plan even faster. Surprisingly, there are quite a few companies asking to be awarded the projects.”
Governor-General Bagot would never know, not in a million years, but most of the companies requesting to take on the railway and locomotive projects were actually businesses that I owned.
I bought up technologically skilled companies during the American Great Depression, so they have more than enough capability to handle the work. With the government's backing, we should be able to lay down the infrastructure around the Great Lakes in no time.
“What about the other matter I asked you to look into?”
“Ah, I looked into that as well, and it was just as you said, Minister. Black people escaping from the United States are trickling across the border.”
“Accept them all. The British Empire has already abolished slavery. We cannot persecute those who have risked their lives to cross over in search of freedom. Of course, they must be properly educated to ensure they don't cause trouble, so they can settle into this society.”
“Won't there be friction with the existing population?”
“There might be some friction with the English from the mainland or the French-descended people who originally lived here. So, we can assign them to new pioneering missions alongside the Irish. The Irish are required to receive education on living together with various races when they come to Canada.”
Irish people are still pouring into Canada, but besides them, I need to create another class of people who will support me fanatically.
And no one was better suited for that role than the Black people who had escaped from America.
At this rate, unlike in the original history, the largest population groups in Canada will be the Irish and Black people.
If these two groups give me their unconditional support, Canada will effectively become my kingdom, not the British Empire's.
The Irish coming to Canada, unlike other white people, had suffered for ages as tenant farmers, so they didn't ostracize Black people as much.
Of course, they still considered themselves superior to Black people, but that was an unavoidable mindset for people of this era, something that could be gradually improved.
That's why I'm continuing to implement education for Irish immigrants, teaching them that people who have shared a difficult past should pioneer a new land together to build a better life.
This alone would probably make the Black people feel they were receiving treatment incomparable to what they experienced in America.
“The land is vast, so it shouldn't matter how many more come. In that case, shall we also proceed with the operation you mentioned, sending tight-lipped Black people who have been completely won over to our side back down to America?”
“Yes. Don't forget to prepare escape routes in advance so they can safely bring their families and relatives. However, you must never leave any evidence of our involvement.”
Good. With the national detective agency James and Pinkerton are creating in the US, I can use them to carry out the operation more efficiently.
There will be no shortage of Black people filled with emotion at the prospect of a new life, so finding volunteers won't be difficult.
So, spread the word far and wide.
Tell them how well the British Empire, the land of freedom, treats Black people and how it gives them a new life.
So that those who wish to become subjects of my kingdom will come on their own.