by Zina Abbott
Wilhelm looked around and caught sight of a few disgusted looks directed their way from some of the other men on board. Wilhelm glanced again at Bridget’s profile as they made their way to the captain’s cabin. She turned and offered a smile that almost stopped Wilhelm’s heart from beating. He knew, in spite of Edward and a few others in second-class who had berated and ridiculed him these past several weeks, he had won the grand prize of the voyage.
Once inside the cabin, the captain directed each person where they would stand. He read through the marriage ceremony.
Wilhelm understood most of the words, but either Edward or the American prompted him where he seemed to falter. Soon, he and Bridget were married and the captain told him to kiss his bride.
Caught off guard, Wilhelm felt his face grow warm as he offered Bridget a peck on the cheek. To cover his embarrassment, he turned to the captain and offered the man the gratuity that between Edward and the American had been decided as appropriate for his service.
“I’ll be taking my Bridget below now, Mr. Mueller. Sure it is I’ll be looking forward to her staying in the better cabins. The lads below shan’t be happy over her no longer being available, and ’tis my fear ’twill be all Mrs. Ryan and I can do to keep them from troubling our Bridget until then.”
Refusing to let go of Bridget’s arm, Wilhelm jerked his head to face the captain. “When?”
Between the English, German and French, Wilhelm learned the captain expected the ship to drop anchor the following late afternoon or evening. The passengers would not disembark until the next morning.
Wilhelm turned to face Thomas. No words needed to pass between them for the pair to realize that although Wilhelm could help keep watch on his new wife during the day when they were topside, at night it would be up to her father and any friends he could enlist to see the rowdies in steerage did not cause her trouble over her marriage to Wilhelm.
Thomas held his hand out towards Bridget. “Aye, come along, Mrs. Mueller. ’Tis best we leave the captain to his business.”
“No. First…” Wilhelm fished for the pouch in the inside pocket of his coat. He brought it out, loosened the strings and shook the gold locket out in his hand. After tucking the pouch in his belt, with shaking fingers, Wilhelm picked up the locket and dangled it before Bridget. “A gift. For wedding.”
~o0o~
Bridget took the locket. Her eyes widened as she studied the design on the front. “Oh, Wilhelm, ‘tis beautiful.” She turned it over, and her face scrunched with confusion. “The words aren’t in English. What do they say?”
“Mein …”
Bridget watched Wilhelm’s face as he struggled to find the words for the translation. Could they be words of love as the heart on the front suggested? Perhaps no one taught him such words yet. She knew over the many weeks he visited with her family, she never found an opportunity to tell him of her growing love for him.
Edward reached over and fingered the locket, turning it to read the inscription. “It says, ‘My heart is always with you.’”
Bridget turned to Wilhelm, an expression of adoration on her face. “Oh, Wilhelm. Grand words they surely are. Truly, is your heart always with me?”
Why did she blurted that out? And in front of all these people?
Bridget heaved a gentle sigh of relief when Wilhelm offered her one of his rare smiles. “Yes.” She bent her head as he unclasped the long chain and fastened it around her neck.
Bridget’s eyelids brimmed with tears as she crossed her palms over her locket. “My heart belongs to you, too, Wilhelm. Always. ’Tis happy I am you agreed to marry me.”
“Maybe you ought to give her the kind of kiss she should have gotten when the captain announced you as man and wife.”
She watched Wilhelm turn and glare at Edward, who spoke and now wore a teasing smirk on his face. She suspected Wilhelm did not appreciate the suggestion, especially with so many people looking on, but Bridget felt just the opposite. Bridget’s heart soared at the prospect of a kiss on the lips. After all, they must wait two days before they could be together as husband and wife. Perhaps another kiss would help her get through the time they must remain apart.
Bridget lifted her hands and placed them on each side of his face, gently coaxing him to once again turn towards her. She kept her words soft as she pleaded. “Sure it is that would please me, Wilhelm.”
Bridget closed her eyes with a rush of excitement as Wilhelm wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. Whatever unease he might have felt over having an audience for their kiss, she could sense it evaporate as the two became conscious only of how soft and enticing their lips felt pressed together. Bridget felt warm all over, her entire body tingled with anticipation over what they would share once they could be together alone.
As wonderful as it felt to have her new husband’s arms around her, Bridget’s father clearing his throat prompted Wilhelm to slowly release his hold on her. With a sense of loss, she also stepped back and dropped one arm to her side while her other hand reached up to finger the locket, her wedding gift from her husband.
Bridget wondered if Wilhelm felt as she did, that it was going to seem like an extremely long two days until the two of them could disappear behind the closed doors of a cabin where he would make her his wife in all respects.
Bridget felt a stab of guilt. She would soon escape the misery of traveling in steerage while her family must remain and endure. She could only hope that with her gone, the small increase of space in the bed and the uneaten rations she would leave behind would make the remainder of the journey slightly better for them.
One thing Bridget knew—she would need to wear Wilhelm’s wedding gift beneath her dress close to her heart. It would not do for prying, envious eyes to see it and try to take it from her.
~o0o~
Although the next two days were tense and passed far too slowly for the newly married couple, soon Bridget joined Wilhelm in the cabin recently vacated by Edward. Designed for single bunks, once they were ready to bed down, the couple moved their pallets to the floor next to each other.
As Wilhelm expected, he was no better received by most of the passengers after Bridget joined him than before. A few were less than subtle about their dissatisfaction over him bringing up a woman from steerage to join their ranks, even though they knew the ship’s captain recently married them.
However, one woman, impressed by Bridget’s lace-making ability, contracted with her to complete a detachable collar, which Bridget was able to do before the ship docked in New Orleans. They agreed upon a price which, although less than what the woman would have paid for the same item in England, provided a much-higher profit for Bridget than what she was accustomed to receiving from the wholesalers who used to buy her lace.
Content to spend most of his time with his new family, Wilhelm ignored any snobbery directed towards him and Bridget. He knew it was a matter of days before they arrived at New Orleans. Once there, everyone would go their separate ways. Besides, he and Bridget were now together at night, too. He ignored the knowing glances from the others when they retired to their rooms. His thoughts were only for his beautiful wife.
.
.
.
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NEW ORLEANS – APRIL 1850
CHAPTER 13
~o0o~
As they prepared to dock, Bridget walked over to join her parents and brothers. Wilhelm started to follow until he felt Edward pull him aside.
Edward held out a small package of folded foolscap. “I owe you something, Wilhelm. Your conquest surprised us all, and I mean that in the most sincere and complimentary way.”
“Nein. No, you owe me nothing.”
“Ah, but I do. We made a wager, and I always pay my debts.”
Curious regarding what Edward might be talking about, Wilhelm lifted a corner of the paper. Edward’s gold watch chain glittered inside.
Wilhelm shook his head and handed the package back towards Edward. “No. To t
he wager, I never agree.”
Wilhelm felt the caress of Bridget’s hand as she slid it in the crook of his arm. “I came to say goodbye, Edward, and to thank you for helping with our marriage.” Her brow crinkled with curiosity about the package the two seemed to push at each other. “Now, what are you two passing between yourselves?”
Wearing a triumphant grin, Edward took the chain out of the paper. He placed it in Bridget’s free palm and closed her fingers around it with both of his hands. “A wedding gift, Mrs. Mueller—to help you two get a good start in life, you see. Wilhelm can either wear it with one of his watches to impress customers with what a successful watchmaker he is, or he can sell it to buy you a pretty bauble.”
Still frowning, Wilhelm shook his head. “Too much.”
Edward fixed a determined glare on Wilhelm. “No, Wilhelm, ’tisn’t too much. It’s been quite some time since I’ve met a finer man than you, and I want you to have it.”
Bridget laughed at the pair. “Sure it is I’ve married a fine man, Mr. Greenwell. But certain I am I’ll not be needing a pretty bauble, not when I’ll be wearing this.” Bridget patted the top of her dress just below her collar which hid her locket from public view. “But I thank you for your fine gift. Sure it is ‘twill be helping my husband get his shop set up once we settle.”
~o0o~
It did not take Wilhelm long to decide passing through the New Orleans Port of Entry was not an experience he wished to repeat. For one thing, the English spoken by the consumptive-looking immigration clerk sounded like an entirely different language than the English Edward used or even the American who had been studying French in Europe.
“Where y’all from?”
“Bavaria.”
“Never heard of it. What language do y’all call that?”
Bridget answered. “German. My husband is speaking in German.”
The man spit on the floor and spoke derisively to Bridget. “Y’all are Irish, huh? Just what we need—more Irish. And y’all married a Klaus, no less.”
“Name not Klaus. “Wilhelm tightened his lips and glared at the man. “To my wife you no talk disrespect.”
The man snarled a response. “I’ll talk how I durn well please, and y’all won’t say no different about it unless all y’all want to get back on that there ship and sail back where y’all come from. So, y’all are German?”
“No. Bavaria.”
The man sighed in frustration. “Durn foreigners. Spell it out so I can write it.”
“I write. To me give the paper.”
“Gotta to be readable. The chicken-scratch some of y’all foreigners call writing is—well—chicken-scratching.”
Wilhelm could not understand what scratching chickens had to do with him entering America. He stretched to his full height. “You no like people not Americans, why here you work?” Ignoring the man’s glare, he continued to argue with him. The clerk finally allowed him to fill out the form himself.
The clerk looked at the name. “Wilhelm. Never heard of no name like that.” He pronounced the first letter like an English double-u.
Wilhelm corrected him, pronouncing it with a “vee” sound.
“Naw, we’re not going with that. Y’all want to live in America, y’alls name is now William.” The man scratched out “Wilhelm” on the entry papers and wrote “William” over the top of it. “How do y’all say this here last name?”
After arguing over the pronunciation and meaning of the word, the man crossed it out and wrote “Miller.”
The intervention of Edward and the French-speaking American were about all that kept Wilhelm from climbing over the counter and physically assaulting the man. They finally managed to calm Wilhelm, arguing he would do better in business in America with an anglicized version of his name. They also cajoled the clerk into not causing further trouble for the family.
With a smug expression, the man looked Bridget up and down before declaring. “Bridget—now that there’s a name I can say.” He shoved the completed forms at Wilhelm. “Keep them papers if y’all got any hopes of one day being naturalized.”
Once Wilhelm/William and Bridget, along with the Ryan family, were processed through immigration, they said their farewells to Edward and the American. Soon, the combined Ryan and Mueller/Miller family were alone in a strange city.
Thomas rejected the approaches of Gaelic-speakers attempting to entice new Irish arrivals to follow them with promises of lodging and good-paying work. He enlightened Wilhelm with a knowing smirk. “My brother’s letters warned me about them. If they get their clutches into unsuspecting Irish, they’re worse than the English when it comes to taking advantage. We’ll be making our own way.”
They found the docks for the river traffic. There they were assured that almost daily at least one steamboat departed north up the Mississippi River.
Wilhelm still felt unsure whether he and Bridget should go to Chicago with his in-laws or west across the great American desert to one of the new lands of Oregon or California. However, he realized he and Bridget needed to travel farther north up the river unless they wished to settle in one of the southern cities.
The Ryans felt it important before they left New Orleans to find a Catholic cathedral where William and Bridget could be properly married and blessed by a priest. They located one close to the docks.
Thomas expressed his desire to leave quickly. Wilhelm shook his head to put them off. “Supplies I need—jeweler supplies.” At the raised eyebrows, he explained about the glass globes he would fill with water so the light shining through them would be concentrated and intensified, allowing him to better see while performing the small detail work. Not knowing for sure what large cities they might find farther north up the river, he also decided to buy more jewelry-making supplies before he left the big city where French-speaking people could understand him.
Knowing Mary wished to stay with her daughter as long as possible, Thomas felt they should all travel together. Besides, with the animosity towards their Irish nationality always a concern, and with Wilhelm’s limited English, there would be safety in numbers.
Wilhelm insisted he needed to understand American money and how Americans valued things before he left. Particularly, he needed to know how much Americans charged for jewelry, watches and repairs. He overrode his father-in-law’s objections when he paid a week’s rent on a large room in a local inn for them all. It meant no privacy for him and Bridget in the common room, but he knew there also would be no privacy when they traveled on the deck of a steamboat. He encouraged Thomas to try to help his wife find a market for the lace Mary and Bridget completed during the voyage so his family would have enough to pay their way and have a bit of a nest egg to fall back on in Chicago.
It took much searching, but finally, Wilhelm found the jewelry shops and was able to use his French to learn the information he needed. He also found three glass globes he could purchase. On one of his shopping trips with Bridget along, he bought a good supply of the thread she needed to make more lace, as well as her own pillow form and more hooks. There remained only a few more tasks for Wilhelm to accomplish before he could leave.
It was Thomas who found a steamboat that appeared sound that could take the Ryan family past the Ohio River to where they needed to disembark to travel to Chicago. It would also stop at St. Louis, Missouri, where Wilhelm was interested in leaving the steamboat to catch another one traveling up the Missouri River to take him and Bridget west towards the starting point of the Oregon Trail. Talk around the docks was that St. Joseph was one of the best cities for those planning to travel to California or Oregon to buy a wagon, stock and provisions. The family planned to board the steamboat in two days, just as the rent on their room would end.
Knowing only a short time remained to achieve his goals, Wilhelm cleared a space in the alley behind the inn. He set up his small forge, built a fire and began to convert some of the firewood he purchased into charcoal. By that afternoon, he possessed enough charcoal to burn fo
r his project.
Bored, and curious about what their new brother-in-law was making, both Patrick and John hovered around Wilhelm. They watched as he worked the small jeweler’s bellows he purchased several days prior until the charcoal turned orange. Wilhelm studied the gold chain Edward gave Bridget and him, and he removed several links. He melted them down until they were pliable enough for him to work with his hammer. He explained to the boys he was making a wedding ring for their sister for when they attended their marriage mass at the cathedral.
Between a knotted string he had used to measure Bridget’s ring size and an elongated cone form among his supplies, he worked the gold until the basis for the ring he envisioned began to take shape. After putting out the fire, he charged the boys with staying with the forge until it was cool enough for him to pack it back in its crate for shipping.
After organizing the room to his liking the next day, Wilhelm set up a work bench with the tools he knew he would need. He brought out the bottle holding the water he previously filtered through layers of fabric and treated so it appeared clear. At the time he brought the clear glass spheres to the room, he filled the container with the cleanest water he could find. He explained to the family how the water in his globes would not work the way they should if it was green with algae from the river or filled with sediment. He set the filled globe on its wooden stand and positioned it so the light from the small window on that side of the room struck the one side of the globe. The glass and water refracted the light and narrowed it to a point through the opposite side, creating a small area of concentrated light. Wilhelm positioned his stool, fit his magnifying monocle in his eye and picked up his etching tools. He began to work on the gold ring.
Mary Ryan, having claimed the larger of Wilhelm’s chests as a stool on which to sit, work on her crocheting. Bridget dragged the small chest close to the table. Wilhelm hovered his etching tool over the band. He waited for the floor vibration to end before he touched it to the metal. “No move—no touch table.” He looked up to find two curious boys crowded around him, watching his every action. “Behind your sister you go. No move. Bridget’s ring—I want perfect, ya?