Anti-Irish prejudice has a long and sordid history, trumpeted in no small part by certain acclaimed writers who, frankly, ought to have known better.

Herman Melville described the sight of the newly arrived with scorn, noting, in particular, “puny mothers holding up puny babies.” Nathaniel Hawthorne observed that they were “ragged and pale” “nursing their babies on dirty bosoms.”

So much for the women (or “Biddies” as they were called). Irish men (“Paddies”) fared no better: described as a “breed” of brutal know-nothings, they were often depicted as savages or animals. (Or both.) A writer in Punch once suggested that the Irish peasant—The Irish Yahoo, to be exact—might actually turn out to be the missing link between man and gorilla, a "climbing animal which may sometimes be seen ascending a ladder with a hod of bricks".

There are no words.

But there were discrepancies.

Reverend John O’Hanlon, author of the most popular Irish emigration book of his day, cautioned his readers to remember that “the utopia of the imagination is not the United States of our experience”.

Such warnings did little to diminish the enthusiasm powering the hopeful traveler.  In some parts of Ireland—County Kerry, for starters—there remained immense pride for those who embraced the adventure.

It was often said that every boat leaving Ireland with a cargo of emigrants carried a potential world champion on board.