by Charles Egan
‘It wasn’t us,’ said Costello, ‘it was the Know-nothings and their gangs. They’ve too much control, they have, and we must do something about it.’
‘You’re right, John,’ Carroll said. ‘We might be ashamed as New Yorkers, but as Irishmen, we can have pride in what we’ve done. Don’t we do every damned thing we can for the poor immigrant? Protect them every way possible. Right from the time they get off the boat, guarding them against the damned runners and thieves who’d rob every penny from them and leave them with broken skulls in the process. That’s the defence that the Catholic Irish provide for their own. And that’s only the start. We find them work too so as the families won’t starve. Feed the widows and orphans too. Yes, we stand up for our own like Christian men should.’
‘I know what you’re saying,’ Luke said. ‘As John here will tell you, I’d been on the boat runs myself. It’s hard down the docks. I’ve had a few run-ins with the runners myself.’
‘You know what we’re talking about so,’ Carroll said. ‘But I’ll tell you, there’s more than that. Even when the poor immigrant gets settled, there’s the protection rackets, you’ve no idea. There’s gangs around who’d try to squeeze every penny from the immigrants, and beat hell out of them if they refuse.’
‘And what about the Molly Maguires?’ Luke asked. ‘Do they sell protection?’
The bar went quiet.
‘Who told you about that?’ Carroll asked.
‘I can’t remember,’ Luke said. ‘There’s so much talk goes on; you hear it everywhere.’
‘Well, it’s all talk. There’s no such gang, New York or anywhere else. Every time there’s murder committed, they blame it on the Molly Maguires.’
‘They were there back in Ireland.’
‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Carroll said, ‘though no-one could prove it there, and they can’t here either. But I’ll tell you this, if that gang is over here, I’ve never met one. And they sure as hell don’t demand my hard-earned dollars for guarding us.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that,’ Luke said.
‘It’s not our way,’ Carroll said. ‘The Hibernians – we do it right. No protection rackets. No bribery, no street fighting, no beating or killing. We provide good company. You’ve seen that tonight now, Luke, haven’t you?’
‘I have,’ Luke said.
‘Don’t you forget it either,’ Costello said. ‘Don’t be paying no mind to any of the gangs or twisted politicians. That’s not our way. You’re sworn in to the Ancient Order of Hibernians. We’re only for Catholic Irishmen, and no matter what the temptation, there’ll be no violence.’
*
He was working at the terminal one morning. He rested for a moment, leaning on his shovel.
Then he saw her.
‘Who’s that over there, do you think?’ he said.
Mick looked up. ‘A woman! I wonder what she’s doing here.’
She was wearing a long grey coat, a black dress and laced boots; and was holding a small bundle.
‘God only knows,’ Luke said, ‘though I suppose it’s a public street like any other. She’s got a perfect right to be here.’
‘She might,’ Mick answered, ‘but there’s damned few women walk down here. What would she want doing in an anthracite terminal anyhow?’
She walked up to the watchman’s hut. The watchman was inside but it was too late before he realised that a woman and baby had just gone past. He jumped up, ran out the door of the hut, and raced after her.
‘Miss. Miss. You can’t come here.’
A second later, he slipped on loose coal dust and fell on his back. There was the loud sound of a whistle, then the foreman was screaming.
‘Back to work, you bastards.’
The men ignored him.
The woman came closer, walking along by the barges. All breaking and shovelling stopped.
Her shawl was tied around her neck, hanging down her back. Her long black hair hung down on one side, flung back over her shoulder on the other.
‘Winnie,’ Luke whispered. ‘It’s Winnie.’
‘Winnie?’ Mick asked.
Luke jumped off the anthracite.
‘Winnie,’ he shouted.
She looked up, not recognising him for a moment.
‘Luke?’ she said, her voice quavering. ‘Luke.’
He ran over and they were embracing.
‘Winnie, oh God, Winnie…’
There was a wailing sound.
‘Careful, Luke. You don’t know your own strength.’
‘Sorry,’ he said. He stepped back.
‘God, would you look at the cut of you,’ she said, wiping down the front of her coat. ‘Do you never wash?’
‘Arra, what, sure we wash every night. I’m working now.’
She held out the baby.
‘Careful with him.’
Luke took him in his arms.
‘That’s Liam,’ she said. ‘Come on, Liam, smile at your daddy.’
The baby only frowned.
Luke said nothing. Liam, his own son. Their future in this rough world. He handed the baby back to her. ‘Where’s your bag?’ he asked, concerned that it had already been stolen.
‘Back at Steuben Street,’ she said.
‘Steuben Street! How in hell…?’
‘I asked my way, after I got off the ship. They directed me to the ferry and from there to Steuben Street. I left my baggage with the landlady, and she directed me down here.’
He was looking puzzled. ‘But…?’
‘Did you think I wasn’t able for it? Did you think I didn’t have a tongue in my head to be asking my way?’
‘I’ll say this, Winnie, you’re one tough lady.’
The rest of the men were back shovelling, the excitement over.
‘Do you have work to be doing?’ she asked.
‘I do.’
‘I’ll just walk back to Steuben Street so,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’
Luke watched her go. His heart was still beating fast. All the long months worrying about Winnie and the baby had taken their toll on him. He had been praying that she could reach New York. It had never occurred to him that she might find him in New Jersey so easily. She was more of a woman than even he had thought.
*
He made his way back to Steuben Street that evening with Jack, refusing Mick’s offer of a beer, as all the others went into the bar.
‘Well, that was quite a surprise for you, Luke,’ Jack said.
‘Damned right it was.’
‘And what class! As cool as you like, and all the walk of a queen! What on earth is a bog-trotter like you doing with a wife like that?’
‘Arra what,’ Luke said. He gave Jack a playful punch in the back. ‘How would you know anything about it?’
‘And you going on about a shipwreck.’
‘I never said that.’
‘You didn’t have to. It was written all over your face.’
‘The hell it was. And anyhow we haven’t heard the full story yet.’
They reached the house. Winnie was with the baby, talking to Mrs. Gleeson in the sitting room.
‘Well, here’s the great hero,’ Mrs. Gleeson said, ‘ordering his wife across the Atlantic and all. God knows, it’ll be great to have another woman around the house. Might put a civil tongue on the fellows here. But we’ll only have one problem – where the devil are we going to put the three of you?’
‘Well, I was thinking…’ Luke said, uncertainly.
‘Thinking what, you amadán. Sharing a room with ten men snoring. Don’t be mad, can’t you see from the look of this girl she’s used to better than that.’
Winnie was just about to protest, but decided to agree instead.
‘Yes, Luke,’ she said, ‘Liam and myself are used to a higher class of conduct.’
‘So there,’ Mrs. Gleeson said. ‘Now you fellows just get yourself upstairs and washed.’
Winnie winked at Luke, as she was led into the dining ro
om, and the door closed between them.
Luke and Jack went upstairs, where Jack scrubbed him down well.
‘Got to be in good order for tonight,’ Jack joked.
‘Don’t I know it,’ Luke said.
‘’Higher class of conduct.’ Where did she get the likes of that from?’
‘God only knows. Sure as hell wasn’t from Mayo.’
He got out of the tub and scrubbed Jack in turn. When he was finished, he dried himself and looked at his face in the broken mirror. Not so bad looking? Carefully, he combed his hair.
‘Don’t worry,’ Jack said, ‘you’re gorgeous as you are.’
Luke flicked a wet towel at him and went downstairs. He was surprised that Winnie was already feeding the baby at the breast.
‘Doesn’t he look much better now?’ Mrs. Gleeson said, looking at Luke. ‘Amazing what a touch of soap will do. Believe me, my girl, if it wasn’t for my insisting, they’d never wash from one end of the week to the other.’
Luke sat down.
‘You’ve little enough opinion of us.’
‘And sure why would I have more,’ Mrs. Gleeson said. ‘And I suppose it’s your dinner you’re expecting now, is it? Expects to be waited on hand and foot.’
‘Well…yes,’ Luke said.
‘Well, you’ll have to wait. Now to serious matters. Where are we going to keep the pair of you? We’ve no spare rooms you know. I’d been thinking we could throw eight or ten of the lads out for the night, it’s not as if I haven’t been tempted before. But sure they might stop paying me, and where would I be then?’
Winnie had taken the baby from the breast, and rearranged her dress. She held him close, waiting for him to fall asleep.
‘Mrs. Gleeson is suggesting we could take one of the storerooms,’ she said.
‘Storerooms?’ Luke said. ‘Sure you can’t even stand up in them.’
‘Don’t you be minding him,’ Mrs. Gleeson said. ‘We’ve got three up in the top floor. I’m sure with a bit of rearranging, we could get everything into two. The one on the side has a window. We can open the window, freshen it up, get a bed in and warm it up again after. And if you’d given us enough warning, we’d have had it all ready. But seeing as you didn’t, we’ll have to wait until the lads get home. Stopped off in the saloon, no doubt. A bit of hard work before their dinner wouldn’t hurt them. Might sober them up too.’
Winnie sat down to table that night with twenty coal heavers and anthracite smashers. Despite Mrs. Gleeson’s protests, she would not accept anything except soup with bread. The baby was asleep in the kitchen.
Luke had been astonished at how quickly a storeroom could be cleared, but reflected that men who were used to shovelling coal and heaving coal sacks would hardly be put off by furniture and sacks of clothes. What was also unbelievable was the way in which all the furniture had been put into the other two rooms. At first, he had thought it impossible, and came to admire the ingenuity of the other men. And Mrs. Gleeson.
Now the room had been swept out and freshened up, with a large bed and a chest-of-drawers. A single mattress served as Liam’s cot.
As Luke had said, the room was hardly high. Wearing her shoes, Winnie’s head just touched the ceiling. Luke had to crouch all the time. Still, it was clean and private.
Winnie’s presence had influenced the men, just as Mrs. Gleeson had predicted. They were still unruly, but far less than before. And when Winnie spoke, they were even civil.
When the plates were taken away, Winnie was asked to tell of her journey.
‘Rough enough,’ she said. ‘The ship wasn’t so bad. We all had some class of a cabin. Six of us to a cabin – seven including little Liam here. Still, it wasn’t as bad as the steerage we hear about.’
‘Many deaths?’ Mick asked.
‘Two.’
‘Two in the cabin!’
‘No. Two in the ship.’
‘Two only? How was that?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Winnie said, ‘but from all I heard on the ship, New York and Philadelphia won’t let in the ships unless they’re clean. Nothing like all we heard about Quebec from last year, that’s for sure.’
‘Then you were damned lucky,’ Jack said. ‘Did Luke never tell you about the ship he came out on? The Centaurus.’
‘He never said a word,’ Winnie said.
‘Maybe he didn’t want worrying you,’ Jack said.
‘And maybe we’ve had enough of this talk,’ Mrs. Gleeson said.
‘No,’ Jack said, forcefully. ‘She’s damned lucky coming out on a ship where hardly a sinner has died. And Luke never told her about The Centaurus.’
‘Why should I?’ Luke said. ‘It’d only be worrying them back home. And anyhow I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘You are,’ Jack said, ‘and how many of your shipmates are not? What was the number you said? A hundred dead? Over a hundred?’
‘Something like that,’ Luke said. He had no desire to go further. The horrors of the Centaurus were something he would prefer to forget.
‘I should have guessed,’ Winnie said. ‘You went steerage, didn’t you? That was a nice letter we got from you from Liverpool, but even then, you knew.’
‘Yes, alanna, I knew. But I didn’t want wasting money on a pricy ticket for me.’
‘And waste it instead on a pricy ticket for me?’ Winnie said.
‘That’s different,’ Luke said. ‘And anyhow, it was better that you got over on a higher class of a ship. It took long enough though, didn’t it?’
‘It did, right enough,’ Jack said. ‘And you should have seen your husband here. Terrified of a shipwreck he was.’
‘I never said that,’ Luke said.
Winnie raised her hand. ‘Well, if you all want to know, we’d one bad storm. I thought we were going to sink. You should have heard the shrieking. Poor Liam, sick from the gut, and crying all night. So yes, we had our winter storm alright, only it was in the middle of summer. And the first port of call was Philadelphia. Between one thing and another, I reckon it added another week to the voyage.’
Mrs. Gleeson raised her hands.
‘We’ll have no more of that. We’ve heard that story a hundred times. Sure the poor girl has just arrived in from Ireland with her baby. Let’s make her welcome and not be bothering her with misery.’
Seán Óg, not being able to understand what had just been said, raised his hand.
Tell us about the blight, and the hunger.’
‘Terrible entirely,’ she said. Silence. No-one spoke. ‘Ye didn’t know?’
‘We’ve been hearing stories,’ said Luke, ‘but your own letter said all was fine.’
‘I know. The letter I sent you, sure it was true what I said. But then, a few days later, it all began, and I’d already posted the letter. I was going to send you another, but your mother said I’d only be wasting the postage, since you’d know soon enough. And anyhow, I’d be here soon after the letter.’
‘True enough,’ Luke said. ‘But what’s happening in Mayo? What’s the real story?’
Winnie hesitated. Her eyes were wet.
‘It’s terrible. The blight is back.’
‘We thought it was only bits and pieces,’ Seán Óg said.
‘Bits and pieces is right,’ Winnie said. ‘It’s only the bits and pieces that are left green, and I’ll tell you this, they’re going to rot, I know that for a certainty. No, the potatoes are gone and there’s famine coming. What with that and the evictions, Mayo is in a terrible way.’
There was an agonised silence in the room. It might only have been seconds, but it felt as if it lasted forever. Then the questions started. Luke knew that Winnie was making a great effort to keep calm, answering everyone’s questions and giving more information, not only of what she had seen around Kilduff and Carrigard, but what she had heard from the rest of the County.
‘Why didn’t you tell us earlier?’ Seán Óg asked.
‘I was afraid to,’ Winnie answered. ‘It’s a hard thin
g to tell. I was hoping ye’d all have known already.’
As the full story sank in, Luke felt a trembling sensation. He steadied himself on the table and brought himself back to normal. No one else had noticed. They were all too involved with the story of County Mayo.
No rumours now, he thought. Now we know the truth of it.
That night they made love for the first time. Liam slept through it all. Luke lay back afterwards, listening to the regular breathing of the baby.
He thought of asking Winnie more about Mayo, but she was distressed about it already. But what of her voyage?
‘That was some journey you had,’ he said.
‘Ah sure, I didn’t get half way through telling it. I’ll tell you later. Times are hard at home. By God, your money was most welcome. But I’m thinking I might have to send money to my own people in Brockagh too. One way or another, I’ll have to find work.’
Luke was uncertain.
‘There’s mills around,’ he said, ‘but you’d not be able to work there with a baby.’
‘It’s needlework I’m thinking of. They say there’s enough work in making shirts, and that you may work in your own home.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and for damned little too. No, you’ll not do that. We’ll send the money to Brockagh out of my earnings. Anyhow, now that you’re out here, we won’t have any call for money for tickets. Which reminds me, you never did finish your story about the crossing. How did Liam take it?’
‘Badly enough at first. The first week he was sick. I could hardly get him to suck, and when I did, he only threw it all up again. He went awful thin. To be honest, Luke, I thought he would die, but then after a week or so, the illness went, and he sucked and sucked, and put on all his weight again. After that, I’d take him up the deck, when we were seeing whales and the like. He’s a happy child, curious too. The girls in my cabin, they just loved him.’
‘What kind of girls were they?’
‘Decent girls. Not starving, neither. One girl, I got to know well. Her mother and father died in the fever. She and her sister got the money sent to them by their brother in Schenectady. You weren’t the only one bringing your family out you know. They were from out Erris…’
‘Erris?’
‘Sure they wouldn’t have had two pennies to rub together. They wouldn’t have got here without their brother’s money.’