Cold Is the Dawn

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Cold Is the Dawn Page 29

by Charles Egan


  They reached the mine. Farrelly checked himself in, and did the same for Luke. He brought him to the cage by the windlass, where men were already waiting. They entered, and the cage dropped down the shaft at speed.

  ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ Farrelly said in the darkness.

  They walked along a tunnel. It looked endless to Luke. At length, they came out into an area with wider tunnels, still with long sections of black coal wall dividing them, with occasional gaps.

  ‘They’re the pillars,’ Farrelly said. ‘They’re what have to be left behind for holding up the roof. They always try to dig in as far as they can. ‘Robbing the pillar’ it’s called. Damned dangerous too.’

  Luke heard the sound of picks digging at coal.

  ‘Now this area is the best for working,’ Farrelly told him. ‘Most of it is over five feet high. A man can work standing, or near it. Not as cramped, and the fellows can get a good tonnage out. The Welsh fellows keep it all to themselves.’

  Luke followed him between the pillars, and then down another tunnel.

  ‘And this is where we work,’ Farrelly said. ‘Less than four feet high, the most of it. Some of it only three.’

  He gave Luke a pick.

  ‘Just go in there on the left. If you don’t know them from the colour of their faces, that’s Mikey over there, and Bernie lying beside him.’

  For the rest of the morning, Luke hacked away at the anthracite. Sometimes he was kneeling, sometimes lying. When they broke for food, his knees hurt and his arms and shoulders ached.

  ‘I’m well use to swinging a pick, I just never thought I’d be doing it lying down,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ Mikey said.

  They returned to the coal face. Luke found he was sweating heavily. He had to lie sideways on the floor of the mine, jagged pieces of anthracite cutting into his arm as he swung. The effort of keeping his head up from the floor gave him excruciating pains in his neck. Inhaling the dust caused him to cough and splutter, even as he gasped for breath.

  When they returned to the Miners’ House, Luke was told Winnie and Liam had gone.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ one of the other men shouted to him, ‘they’re just gone over to the Women’s House, that’s all. It’ll be cleaner there, that’s for sure and certain.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Luke said.

  He lay down on his mattress and pulled the blankets over him. His arms still ached.

  Jack roused him.

  ‘Time to eat.’

  Luke followed him. He sat with the gang in the canteen. A large tureen of stew sat in the middle of the table. Kidney and liver floated on top, but there were many more meats he could not identify. He ladled the stew onto his bowl.

  Mick nudged him.

  ‘Dreadful slop, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’ve eaten better,’ Luke said.

  ‘But at least there’s plenty of it,’ Bernie said, ‘more than we’d have been getting in County Mayo these years past. And sure why wouldn’t they? They have to build us up to be able to swing a pick.’

  Luke ate.

  ‘And to really cheer you up,’ Jack said, ‘three cents a plate is what it’s costing you off your wages.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Farrelly, ‘remember what I said about the truck store. If they can’t get you one way, they have to get you another.’

  ‘What other ways are there?’ Luke asked.

  ‘They could reduce the wages more. Or get you working on robbing the pillars, and bring the roof down. There’s always ways. But one way or another, you should be happy to have a job, any job. The railways are all closing down, thousands of men out of work. There’s men starving in this country, Luke, don’t you forget that.’

  *

  After dinner, he left the canteen and walked down to the Women’s House. It was intensely cold. Farrelly’s last comments had depressed him. Men starving in this country. What kind of place was America?

  He knocked at the door of the Women’s House. He was not allowed to enter, but asked for Winnie. She came to the door, Liam wrapped tightly in her shawl. She stepped out. It was a starry night.

  ‘So how is it with you?’ she asked.

  ‘Tough. It isn’t easy working in mines.’

  ‘I can see that. You could do with a good scrubbing down too.’

  ‘I know. But what of ye? Are ye getting fed?’

  ‘Well enough. They’ll be wanting payment at the end of the week though. But God, Luke, this is one terrible place. Most of them are widows, living on very little.’

  ‘I know,’ Luke said, ‘Farrelly told me all about it.’

  ‘The men die young.’

  ‘I know that too. And we don’t want leaving you a widow, do we?’

  ‘So what can we do?’

  ‘Damned if I know,’ Luke answered. ‘Don’t think I’m not thinking about it. But for now, we’ll have to put up with it. Get some better kind of work in the spring.’

  ‘Like what? The railways?’

  ‘There’s not much work there,’ Luke said. ‘No, it won’t be the railways. Not for now anyhow. But the one thing we can do, is get you out of this place. There’s family lodgings around, and once I have my first wages, we’ll be looking for them.’

  ‘I’ll be pleased when you do,’ Winnie said. ‘This place is so damned miserable. Do you know, they have me doing the cooking for our part of the house? Twelve women and fifteen children. Unpaid too. Cooking for that crowd wasn’t what I expected when we came to Lackan.’

  ‘I don’t know what any of us expected,’ Luke answered, ‘but one way or another it means you don’t have to go out to work, and you can mind the baby while you work.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s not that I mind it, but the women all demand it of me as a matter of right. We can’t go on like this, Luke.’

  ‘I agree with you, but there’s very little other work that we can look for right now. Jersey City was rough, I can tell you, and we don’t want to go back to that. Sure, I’d far prefer not to have you working, and to be just watching over a house of our own, and taking care of the baby, but that’s not possible yet, my love.’

  ‘Will it ever be?’ Winnie asked.

  ‘In a place like Lackan? I’m not sure. But let’s wait and see.’

  *

  Back to hard labour. When they had filled a wagon, it had to be dragged back to the main tunnel, where it was linked up to a mule. It was impossible for mules to work in the low drifts though, and for much of that distance, two of the men had to drag the wagon by means of crawling on hands and knees. They used kneepads and gloves, but still it was brutally hard.

  That evening, as they walked back along the tunnel, a young boy emerged from one of the other drifts. At first, Luke was unsure of what he had seen because of the poor light from his lamp, but looked back to make sure.

  ‘Good God, Martin, they’re using children for the wagons,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ Farrelly replied, ‘sure they’ve been doing that for generations.’

  ‘But he was only a child.’

  ‘Twelve years old. If you want to believe that.’

  ‘Twelve years!’ Luke exclaimed. ‘No bloody way. How do you work that out?’

  ‘Simple. The laws of Pennsylvania say he’s twelve. They bar children from working in the mines. The mother says he’s twelve, and so does he, so who are we to argue with it?’

  ‘But…but can’t they check it out?’

  They had arrived at the cage.

  ‘Not a hope in hell. If you check it, you’ll find he was born in Ireland, and who’s going to write to Ireland to find out how old he is. It’s the same old story. His father’s most likely dead, and his mother needs the money. And by the time he really gets to twelve, he’ll have been given as much older, and he’ll be a miner. And he sure as hell won’t make thirty.’

  On Saturday, they finished early. At the Miner’s House, Farrelly divided up the wages. He held Luke’s until last, and waited until Luk
e had counted it.

  ‘I’m just thinking,’ he said, ‘you and Danny used to be the best on sums when we worked the railways in England.’

  ‘Hardly surprising,’ Luke said. ‘Most of the fellows can’t add at all.’

  ‘No, but I can, and by God ye were both far faster than I ever was. Now I want you to have a quick look at this. This is our contract account. Is it correct, do you think?’

  Luke took the page. He went through the figures – tons, rates per ton, totals, deductions for oil at rates per gallon, and many more. He multiplied in his head, adding and then making the deductions.

  ‘It’s correct,’ he said to Farrelly at last.

  ‘Fine, but it mightn’t have been. What I’d like you to do for us now is the same as you and Danny used to do in England, at least when Danny was still with our gang. Whenever we need supplies, I’d like you to go to the truck store and get them, and make sure the amounts are correct before you sign for them. It’s not that I mightn’t be able to do the same, but when there’s a long line of men behind you, it’s not easy to do all the sums. I sure as hell can’t, and they won’t have any arguments after I’ve signed.’

  ‘Fine so,’ Luke said.

  ‘I’d also like you to come with me every Saturday when I go to the office for payment. Same thing, make sure the figures are correct before I sign for them.’

  Mick had come in.

  ‘Arra sure what good would that do?’ he said. ‘All your reckonings might be correct, but if they’re giving you short measure at the weigh station, it doesn’t mean a damned thing.’

  ‘Short measure!’ Luke exclaimed.

  Farrelly waved his hand.

  ‘It’s what they’re all on about all the time, Luke. There might be short measure, or there might not, it’s just they won’t allow us to see it, and we’ve no way of knowing.’

  ‘It’s wrong,’ Mick said, ‘and don’t you believe otherwise, Luke.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time for worrying about that,’ Farrelly said, irritably. ‘In the meantime, we’ve got to get you and Winnie into a house. I wanted to let you know that I spoke to Cantwell about it. Ned Moran and his wife, they’ve an Operator house, not too far from here. A hundred yards or so. He’s a Mayo-man, mind you, Ballina born and reared.’

  *

  A card game had begun. ‘I’d best go and see Winnie,’ Luke said.

  ‘Arra, you’ll see her soon enough,’ Mikey said. ‘Sure isn’t the dancing on tonight? And what chance do you have of talking to your comrades? There’ll be little enough when you have a tigín of your own.’

  Luke sat and played pontoon. He made nine and a half cents on the game.

  That evening, Seán Óg handed him two buckets. ‘You’ll need to be well washed tonight,’ he said. He led him to a hand pump at the rear of the house. Around the pumps, the ground was thick with ice. Gritty coal dust had been stamped into it.

  All four buckets were filled and taken up the stairs to another room with three zinc baths. There was a queue of men at each.

  ‘Now, the deal is this,’ Seán Óg said. ‘I’ll scrub you down, then you do me. You go first.’

  They reached the top of a queue. Luke sat in and got half a bucket of cold water poured over him.

  ‘Christ, that’s freezing.’

  ‘Arra, would you stop complaining. Hold on till I scrub you.’

  ‘That’s some scrubbing brush.’

  ‘Still complaining? We have to get half your skin off to make you half decent.’

  After Luke had dried down, he repeated the procedure with Seán Óg.

  He took his good clothes out of the chest. As they walked down past the Women’s House, two girls came out.

  ‘Is there a Winnie Ryan still there?’ Jack shouted.

  ‘There is.’

  ‘Would you be a good girl now, and tell her that her husband is waiting for to go dancing.’

  At length, Winnie appeared.

  ‘You’re lucky seeing me,’ she said. ‘I’d to bribe one of the girls to take care of Liam.’

  They arrived at the bar where there was a loud sound of conversation, and a thick cloud of pipe smoke. Luke bought a beer and a gin, and brought Winnie to join the gang.

  ‘So how are you getting on?’ he asked her.

  ‘Not so bad,’ she said. Earning a bit for a change.’

  ‘Earning?’

  ‘Sewing and stitching all day, making shirts. That’s what we’re doing when I’m not cooking. Only making a dime a shirt, same as in Jersey, but sure it’s something to add to what you’re earning.’

  ‘Which isn’t very much,’ Luke said. He wanted to protest at Winnie stitching again, but he was already concerned about how much he could send back to Carrigard. And if the blight had hit again, what then? Maybe Winnie was right. Every dime would be needed.

  A fiddle started to play.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘A reel,’ Winnie said. ‘And you should know.’

  Within seconds, tables had been cleared back, and the centre of the room was taken up with dancers.

  ‘Come on you amadán,’ Winnie said, taking Luke’s hand. ‘Let’s dance.’

  ‘But sure you know I can’t…’

  ‘Let’s be having none of your excuses.’

  A few minutes later the music stopped. Luke was sweating.

  ‘Not used to this, are you,’ Winnie said.

  ‘Not used to the heat anyhow.’

  Suddenly the hall went quiet. A passage cleared as a man strode across the room and came to Farrelly. He threw a page on the table.

  ‘I want to know who the man was that sent me this.’

  Luke looked at it. It was no more than a rough drawing of a coffin, with a cross on top. Under the cross, ‘Dai Lloyd’ was written in rough drawn letters.

  Farrelly picked it up.

  ‘Damned if I know,’ he said, ‘but I can tell you one thing, it surely wasn’t one of our men.’

  ‘Well, whoever it was, will pay the price. We’ll not have death threats around here.’

  He stalked out of the room.

  Luke glanced over to Mick, who looked away.

  ‘Who was that?’ Luke asked.

  That’s Lloyd,’ Farrelly replied. ‘He’s the Boss at the Number One Breaker. Rough bastard.’

  ‘Why would he come over to us?’

  ‘Suspects Molly activities around here. Mistaken, of course, but we can’t convince him. He reckons we’re part of the gang, or at least know who they are, even if we didn’t do it ourselves.’

  *

  They were laughing as they made their way home that evening. Winnie was flushed from the dancing and excitement. Luke, Jack and Farrelly walked her back to the Women’s House.

  ‘You’re lucky getting babysitting so easy,’ Jack said.

  ‘Edna? Sure she has no interest in dancing. A grand girl I’d say though.’

  Luke was happy to see Winnie enjoying the night so much. Tough work was one thing, but Saturday nights might make it all worthwhile.

  He embraced her. ‘See you tomorrow, a ghrá.

  Farrelly shook her hand gravely. ‘And don’t be ruining your eyes with all that sewing and stitching,’ he said. ‘It’s not worth it for what they pay you.’

  As they returned to the Miner’s House, a voice came from behind.

  ‘Luke Ryan?’

  ‘What of it?’ He was instantly on his guard.

  ‘Remember Croghancoe?’

  ‘Croghancoe?’

  ‘You’d better watch your back.’

  Luke swung around and grabbed the man by the lapels.

  ‘I’ll not have that kind of threat from anyone. Who are you?’

  ‘A Mayo man, and before you think it, there’s no point in hitting me, it’ll only make it worse for yourself. There’s many more from where I came from.’

  Farrelly picked up a stick.

  ‘Enough of that. We’ll have no threats here.’

  Luke released the ma
n, and he was gone.

  He was silent as they returned to the House. Croghancoe? He remembered all the starving people, working on road-building in the snow, driven to it by a Poor Law that could never understand human suffering. And he had been the supervisor.

  *

  Next morning, Luke and Winnie accompanied the rest of the gang to Mass.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting to be going to Mass in a place like this,’ Luke said.

  ‘Wait till you see,’ Farrelly said.

  They arrived.

  ‘But it’s only got half a roof,’ Winnie said.

  ‘Don’t expect miracles,’ Farrelly said, ‘Lackan never had a Catholic Church before. It’s taken us long enough to get this far, but don’t be worrying now, we’ll finish it out in the next few months, you wait and see. Whatever about your husband’s doubts, this is a Catholic Church, consecrated and all, by the Bishop no less, only six weeks ago.’

  Luke was surprised to see a large congregation, hundreds he guessed. The women were crowded at the front where the roof had already been completed over the altar. The men stood at the back, out in the open, as Mass began.

  Afterwards, Luke and Winnie walked along the banks of the Lackawanna.

  ’I’d never have believed that,’ Winnie said.

  ‘You’ve got to remember one thing, my pet,’ Luke said, ‘this is a new country. It’s not like Kilduff and the rest with churches standing for hundreds of years.’

  Yes, he was thinking. The church in Kilduff after the ’39 storm. It had no roof on it then either. The Ryans had heard Mass in a roofless church before.

  ‘What was that business with Farrelly and that Welsh fellow last night?’ Winnie asked.

  ‘Couldn’t you guess? The Molly Maguires.’

  ‘But sure they’re in Mayo.’

  ‘And everywhere else. New York for sure. Lackan too. Don’t let it surprise you. They’re everywhere Irishmen are.’

  *

  That evening, Luke called down to the Women’s House and, following Farrelly’s directions, took Winnie, Liam and their baggage to the Moran house. As Farrelly had promised, they were welcoming. The rooms were clean, the floors well-scrubbed, though still showing the grey residue of coal dust. The once white lace curtains were grey too.

 

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