by CJ Puccia
in this foreign place.
There was a livery stable not far from the train station, and Matheus showed the driver his remaining coins and the makeshift map, pointing to Seatonville. The driver nodded his head, taking all but one coin.
It was a short ride to Seatonville, and Matheus arrived just before dark. The small mining town had several saloons and a general store. He saw the tall slag mounds, and the rows and rows of small cottages. He consulted the map, and found his cousins' cottage number.
They greeted him with a slap on the back, and he was welcomed into the crowded cottage. He was surprised to see at least ten men in the small quarters. Cots lined three walls, with a woodstove and small table in one corner. He was given a bedroll on the floor, as there were no beds to spare. This did not seem like prosperity to Matheus. His cousins explained that there was a housing shortage, assuring Matheus that the mining Company had promised more cottages soon.
They planned to take him to work early the next morning and he would then be gainfully employed. Tonight they would celebrate! They walked over to a saloon, and were served shots of strong harsh liquor. After several rounds, they walked back and retired for the night. Matheus was impressed that the drinks were put on account. No money was exchanged.
Six
Before dawn, a loud horn blared, rousing the mineworkers from their sleep. They quickly packed thick sandwiches into their metal pails, an extra for Matheus tied into a bandana, as their coffee boiled on the woodstove. They drank the strong brew as they walked almost a mile to the coalmines, putting the empty tin mugs into their pails when they arrived.
Matheus saw hundreds of men walking to the mine. He was directed to the Company office, where he signed a document he could not read. He was given a helmet-like hat with a small oil lamp on the front. He was then taken to the mine entrance, where men were still waiting in line to get down into the mine to begin work.
He saw a large metal cage raised on a cable, powered by a large sputtering gasoline engine. A dozen men got in, the cage, and it was quickly lowered into the dark shaft. Minutes later, the metal cage was back, and another group was lowered. When it was his turn, he entered the cage hesitantly. The other men pulled him away from the sides, gesturing for him to keep his head and limbs inside the cage.
He was horrified by the speed of the descent, afraid that he may be sick from the swift movement. Then the cage was at the bottom, nearly a mile underground, and the men hurried from the cage. He walked along with the others, another mile or more through dark tunnels lit with oil lights every hundred yards or so. There was track running down the middle. It was hot and damp in the tunnels, with gritty stale air.
When they reached the end, the ceiling was so low that he could not stand up straight. He was handed a pick and shovel, and was shown how to chip away at the walls, scooping the loose rock into a cart that ran down the track and would take it outside to extract the coal.
After six hours another horn blasted, and the men walked back to the open area near the cage. They sat on the ground and ate their lunches, stretching their aching backs and cramped legs. The slight movement of air coming from the shaft was refreshing, as was the large bucket of water that they ladled into their tin mugs.
Thirty minutes later, the horn blasted, and the men again walked to the ends of the tunnels. Six more hours of chiseling and shoveling while bent at the waist wore on Matheus. By end of day when the horn blasted, he could hardly straighten.
His cousins met him topside, and they limped slowly to the nearest saloon. After several rounds of the strong liquor, the men stumbled back to their cottage, and into their beds. They fell into exhausted sleep, snoring loudly.
Seven
Matheus adapted to the routine of the twelve-hour workdays, as his body grew more accustomed to the demands of the labor. On payday, he was shocked to find that there was no actual pay. He received a book that showed a credit on his account. His cousins explained that anything he wanted or needed from the Company Store could be charged against this balance. His portion of the rent had already been deducted.
This method of payment worked out well for many, but Matheus was disheartened. The account was a fine idea once his family was here, but how could he acquire real money to buy the tickets to get them here? Things were confusing in America, and so far, not as he expected.
The following week, it was Matheus' turn to provide the food for lunches for the men that had provided for him. He also needed a lunch pail, tin cup and cot. Soon he would need another pair of shoes. He found the prices at the Company Store grossly inflated, and he watched his account balance dwindle in the little book.
Daily visits to the saloon further depleted his funds. Drinking had become a necessity for the miners, as it was the only pain relief after the long days in the mine. The hard work, claustrophobia, and constant fear of cave-in took its toll on both their bodies and minds.
Matheus grew to like the crew he worked with in the tunnels. There were men from Italy and Ireland, their English heavily accented with their own languages. He had learned to understand them, and spoke some English himself after a few weeks.
The rules of citizenship were another thing Matheus learned. He now understood that he would need to become a citizen to bring his family to America, and this would take several years.
He wrote to his wife, trying to explain how things were in America. He was truthful about the hard work, but did not mention the drinking or poor housing conditions, or the rules of citizenship. Things would hopefully work out by the time he could send for them.
Eight
As time went by, Matheus watched his cousin's work, drink and sleep day after day, surprisingly content. While food and drink were plentiful, as his cousins had promised, they came at a price. A high price! His body was breaking, his mind clouding from working in the mines. All for earnings that he gave right back to the Company for a place to sleep and food to eat.
He wanted more than this. He did not travel so far to work so hard with no hope of getting ahead. He felt like a commodity, a possession of the Company. It didn't seem right in his mind, but he had no other choice. When his English was better he would go to the Company office and see if he could get some of his money to send to his wife.
Matheus learned more English and asked more questions. He learned that men working in the town as construction laborers and those that worked on the railroad often needed lodging, and paid cash for room and board. If he could acquire his own cottage, perhaps he could rent to these men and have the money he needed to send home to Europe.
Months passed with little more than talk of more housing. Matheus tried to be patient, and had little energy left at the end of the day for worry. He had begun attending church on Sundays, which was his only day off from the mines. The others spent the day in the saloons, coming home loud and disorderly. Matheus rose early, rinsing his clothes and doing his best to groom himself down at the creek before church - when the weather allowed. He listened to the service in English, trying to discern what he could from the preacher. He prayed his own prayers, asking for God to give him the strength to carry on. He prayed that God would help him bring his family to America.
Nine
Winter came, and with it came sickness. Several men were lost to influenza. Matheus had developed a constant cough and now walked with a painful limp. His body ached but he continued on for his family. Matheus missed them terribly.
The cold weather made everything harder. To clean, water had to be drawn from the communal well in buckets and heated on the woodstove. If it became too cold, the hand pump would freeze, and then melting snow or ice were the only options.
At the end of winter the Company announced that more cottages were finally on the way. He would need to sign a list and maybe he would be granted a cottage. Talk between the men made him believe he had a chance, as men in overcrowded cottages would be offered the new housing first.
/> Finally, he could see hope in his future - the future of his family. He had something good to think about as he worked in the mine that week. He made a mental list of the things he would need to set up housekeeping. He would offer bedrolls to his boarders as he had been offered when he first came. They could buy their own cots if they wished. He would need a coffeepot, plates, bowls, knives and eating utensils. The boarders likely had their own tin cups. Of course coffee, bread and meat also. These provisions would deplete much of his credit, but it would be an investment. His return would be greater. Maybe America was a land of opportunity after all.
Matheus was allotted a cottage, but as all things he had encountered in America, it was more expensive than he had expected. He would have to charge his boarders enough to cover this cost and still make a profit. He prayed that it would work out, as he moved his meager belongings to the new cottage.
At church, he tried to communicate that he had lodgings available for rent. At the saloon, he did his best to explain in broken English to some of the others what he had to offer. Three railroad workers soon moved in with Matheus. They were Swedes, and communication was difficult, but the men seemed happy with the clean bedrolls, hot coffee and thick sandwiches that were provided. Soon an Irish