The Bavarian Jeweler

by Zina Abbott

  The man studied Wilhelm several seconds before he nodded to a space on the box next to his side opposite from where his wife and daughter sat. “Aye, you may join us. My name’s Thomas Ryan. This here’s my wife, Mary. These two scalawags are my youngest sons, Patrick, who’s eleven, and John, who’s eight.”

  Wilhelm turned to acknowledge Mrs. Ryan. Mary Ryan graciously dipped her head in Wilhelm’s direction and attempted a smile. Her lips then pursed, and she focused on the pillow on which she worked a design made of white cotton thread.

  Wilhelm’s eyebrow twitched as he looked closely at the two boys. He felt dismayed that he had guessed them to be younger than they actually were. He wondered if they were just naturally small for their ages, or if their diminutive sizes were due to the decade-old potato famine still gripping Ireland.

  The youngest of the pair jumped up and leaned against his father’s knee. “What does he want, Da?”

  Thomas Ryan turned to his sons. “Shut your gobs now, and behave, boys. Sit whilst we have company.” Thomas then gestured towards his daughter. “This here’s my daughter, Bridget.”

  Wilhelm turned his full attention to the beautiful woman sitting gracefully several feet away. The entire world, including the rest of the Ryan family, seemed to vanish. All he could see before him was the mesmerizing woman who had caught his eye the day he boarded the ship. Like a vision—a foretelling—the sight of her now sitting only the short distance from him resonated to his very core.

  Bridget raised her head as her name was spoken and offered him a dazzling smile. Then, catching sight of her father’s warning glare, returned her eyes to her project. “Pleased it is I am to meet you, Mr. Mueller.”

  With difficulty, Wilhelm turned his focus back to Thomas Ryan. “The work the women do I come to see. What call you…?” Still struggling with the language, he motioned towards the needlework.

  Thomas directed a knowing look at Wilhelm. “I know why you’re here, Mr. Mueller. But to be answering your question, it is the Irish lace they’re making. My women learned it at the convent whilst we were still in Ireland—to help earn extra due to the potato blight. Bridget is doing the crochet work whilst Mrs. Ryan is connecting the pieces together to form the lace.”

  “Ah.” Wilhelm knew what lace was, especially after Edward told him they were making it, but he had been unaware of exactly how it was made.

  Wilhelm waved towards the two boys. “Some…” He searched his memory in vain for the word for roll. “…bread from dinner we do not eat. For your children I bring. Please, may I…?”

  The next thing Wilhelm knew, the two boys scrambled to their feet and stood before him. They turned pleading eyes towards their father as the oldest, Patrick, spoke for them both. “May we, Da?”

  After Thomas gave his permission, Wilhelm reached into his pocket and pulled out two rolls and handed one each to the boys. The boys grabbed them, and each sank their teeth through the hard crusts.

  It was their mother this time who sharply reprimanded them. “You’ll sit and eat like proper gentlemen, you will, or I’ll be knowing the reason why. What will you be saying to Mr. Mueller?”

  Chastened, both boys turned to Wilhelm and offered their thanks, and then they resumed their seats.

  Thomas gave his orders in the form of advice. “Eat slow, boys, and if you’ll hold each bite on your tongue afore you swallow, ’twill give your body a chance to catch up to your mouth to be knowing you’ve been fed.” He turned to Wilhelm. “A fine gift to be bringing them. Down below, we’ve only hardtack for bread.”

  “You’re velcome…I mean…wah-wah…”

  “Welcome.”

  Feeling his face flush at the sound of the young woman’s voice, Wilhelm nodded his thanks to Bridget, who pronounced the word properly for him. “Welcome. Dank you. I mean…” Wilhelm attempted to form his tongue against his teeth to create the “th” sound Edward had struggled to teach him.

  “Thank you?”

  Wilhelm huffed in frustration. “Ya. Yes. In German we do not the “th” sound have.” He reached in his pocket for the third roll and held it out in Bridget’s direction. “For you I bring.”

  Bridget offered him a radiant smile as she set her crochet work in her lap and accepted the roll. “Thank you.” She broke off one bite and looked down in embarrassment as she chewed the food.

  Wilhelm forced himself to turn away to allow her some privacy while she ate. He snapped his head back at her next words.

  “Will you mind if I give the rest to these wee ones? They’re still growing.”

  Wilhelm studied the three small children from a nearby family now crowding around the Ryan’s because they were drawn by the sight of food. He wanted her to eat it, but suspected giving it away would make her happiest. “Ya…yes, give.”

  Bridget broke the remainder of the roll in three parts and handed a piece to each of the children. Next, she motioned for them to go back to their parents.

  Realizing bringing food on deck while there were so many children roaming around who did not get enough to eat in steerage could cause problems and distractions, Wilhelm considered whether or not he should repeat the gesture. He turned his attention once more towards Thomas, who eyed him with curiosity.

  “German, are ye?”

  “Yes. Bavaria.”

  “Methought Germans have light hair and eyes.”

  “Many German people in east and north, yes. Bavaria south, many Bavarians more like Austrians.” Wilhelm chose to change the subject. “To America I go live.”

  Wilhelm hoped the man would not ask him why he decided to now live in America. Not everyone would agree with him going along with his father’s decision to avoid fighting for his homeland.

  Fortunately, Thomas did not pry into Wilhelm’s reasons or his plans as they struggled to communicate with one another. A time or two, Wilhelm asked him to speak more slowly, or, after he indicated he did not understand the words, Thomas rephrased his sentences.

  They discussed lace-making and how disgusted Thomas felt about the English paying his wife and daughter so little for their efforts. From what Wilhelm could gather, most of the profit, even once they lived in England where there was no import tax to be paid on the luxury items, went to middlemen. Thomas painted a much different picture of the economic circumstances than what Edward had told him.

  “In Bavaria, the same.”

  Thomas explained how the family finally earned enough money to leave England to join Thomas’s brother and their oldest son, Daniel, in an American city called Chicago where Daniel worked as a policeman. Between the two, Thomas would have a place to stay until he also found a job.

  “The mills meant working long hours, but ’twas all right if a man did not miss being tied to the land. But my boys were getting the lung sickness from breathing the lint. They’re already feeling the lack due to the potato blight which claimed our Thomas, my son just a year younger than our Bridget. In England, I kept Bridget and Mrs. Ryan home making the lace rather than having them get a job in the factory, but the boys’ wages were needed to make ends meet. But I’ll not be letting the mills claim my two youngest, now will I? My brother says we can find better in America, and the boys can learn their letters, like our Bridget.”

  Pleased to learn Bridget could read and write, Wilhelm looked over at her. He responded to her smile with one of his own before he turned back to Thomas. It was with a sense of pride Wilhelm told Thomas he was a watchmaker and intended to open a shop in America. As usual, he said nothing of his ability to also create jewelry.

  “America is a big country. Where in America are you planning to go?”

  That question stumped Wilhelm. He did not know where in America he would make his home. A larger city, probably, one that was growing and would appreciate a good jeweler and watchmaker.

  Thomas offered the Ryan family’s destination. “My brother will be wanting us to go to Oregon. ’Tis across their great land and next to the ocean on the other side. Though it see
ms a good place to start over, ’tis not certain I’ll be taking the family so far.”

  Wilhelm made a mental note to ask Edward what he knew about Oregon.

  “The wind’s picking up, so it’s best we go below. Appears your English friend is watching us, waiting for you to join him, now isn’t he?”

  Wilhelm turned his head to look in the direction Thomas nodded. Sure enough, across the deck, Edward leaned against the side of the ship with his eyes intently studying the scene created by Wilhelm speaking with the Ryan family.

  “He my cabin shares. English he teach me.”

  Thomas offered a smile that bordered on a smirk. “Out of the goodness of his heart, does he now?”

  “When…” Wilhelm pointed upwards. “…sky more quiet…water more still…his watch I fix. A good trade.”

  “Aye, I’m not owning a watch myself but would like to see that.”

  “Another day, your family may I visit?”

  ~o0o~

  Bridget noticed the British toff was now topside and waited for Wilhelm. Wilhelm—a strong-sounding name, even if it did seem terribly foreign. And now he prepared to leave, to join his snobby friend with whom he shared the quarters only the well-to-do could afford.

  So respectful. He treated her father, a poor Irish mill worker, with the respect her da deserved. Bridget thought perhaps—she hoped—even though Wilhelm spent the time talking to her da, he had also noticed her. In spite of her embarrassment when he offered her a roll, she appreciated his kindness. She hoped he did not think of her as another child like her two younger brothers. She preferred he see her as a full-grown woman. Then again, he did think of her, rather than only bringing a nice gift to the two boys. Besides, if he only brought her a roll, certain it was her father would have chased him off, and he would not be welcomed back.

  No, if Wilhelm was interested in her, he went about it in a smart manner. He made no attempt to flirt with her. The reason he gave for approaching her father was that he came to see what she was working on before letting the talk turn to men’s work. Rather than dismiss what she did as insignificant “women’s work,” he had been interested in the lace she and her mother made and hoped to sell once they arrived in America. The lace would help buy the family food for the trip up the long river—a river longer than any in Ireland or England—until they could join her older brother and uncle in Chicago. Yes, he must have noticed her as a man sees a woman. But, instead of behaving in a manner that would have raised her da’s suspicions—and his hackles—he made sure it was acceptable with her da for him to visit with their family.

  But now he was leaving. He asked if he could visit again. Would her father allow him to return another time? Or, would this be the last time she could see him up close and listen to his voice as he struggled to find the English words to talk to them? How could she invite him to visit them again without raising Da’s suspicions or worry Ma?

  Before Bridget realized what she was doing, the words flew out of her mouth. “When he visits us, we can be helping him learn his English, Da.”

  ~o0o~

  All eyes turned to Bridget, who kept hers focused on her father.

  Thomas Ryan studied his daughter as he considered the implications. “Aye, Mr. Mueller. You’re welcome to visit with us again—to be learning your English. Good day to you, now.”

  Taking their cue from Thomas, the Ryan family rose and prepared to return to their steerage accommodations.

  Reveling in a sense of satisfaction over the invitation to visit with them again, Wilhelm bowed his farewell and turned to join Edward.

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  ATLANTIC OCEAN – WINTER 1850

  CHAPTER 6

  ~o0o~

  His smile wide and his eyes dancing with amusement, Edward straightened as Wilhelm approached. “You’ll not get under the chit’s skirts by talking to her father.”

  Wilhelm sucked in his breath and stiffened his spine. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Edward shook his head in disbelief. “You know nothing about getting your way with a woman. You need to catch her alone so you can talk to her without her family hanging on every word. Do you understand what I’m saying, Wilhelm? You need to talk to her. I’ll bet my watch chain you’ll not bed her before we reach New Orleans.”

  Wilhelm clenched his teeth. He felt it beneath him to respond in any manner to the bet Edward offered. He wished there was a way he could change cabins and continue the journey with someone else, but he doubted any of the English gentlemen aboard would have a better attitude towards the Irish family than what Edward displayed. Besides, Edward was one of the few passengers who spoke German. He needed Edward to continue teaching him English.

  “She’s a good Catholic girl. Her father watches out for her.”

  So some man does not do to her what you would do—what Josef Schwartz did to my sister.

  Wilhelm swallowed back his anger as he recalled the discussion back in his room in when his father revealed why Wilhelm could not return to the family shop and assume the position of watchmaker.

  ~o0o~

  “Josef Schwartz? Herr Bauer’s journeyman you were letting work in your shop? Why should those seeking soldiers for the army consider the watchmaker position permanently filled by Josef? That is promised to me. Send Josef back to Herr Bauer.”

  “Old Herr Bauer agreed to work with Josef only until his grandson finished his journeyman training so he could return and eventually inherit his shop. That is why he arranged to oversee his work in my shop while I waited for your return. Ernst Bauer is back with his grandfather. There is no room for Josef there.”

  “Is Josef not from Munich? Send him back where he came from, and I will come home. With my watchmaker trade and the position in the shop, the army will not insist I join. Herr Bauer can oversee my work and qualify me as a master.”

  “There is no place for Josef in Munich. He is also a second son, and his older brother will inherit the family’s watch repair shop. With the unrest, other shops are unwilling to take on a new man.”

  Wilhelm jumped to his feet. His fists clenched as he paced back and forth across his small room. “Then if the army should have anyone, it should be Josef. He must return to his family’s shop to take his chances. Let me claim my place in our shop.”

  Heinrich responded, his voice so soft Wilhelm almost didn’t hear him. “Josef has achieved his masters. He married your sister, Inge, last August.”

  It took several seconds for his father’s words to sink in and for Wilhelm to put it all together. He stopped his pacing and turned to face his father. “And you gave him my place? He is your watchmaker instead of me? You think so little of me you gave my position to an outsider?”

  Heinrich shrugged and sighed. “Your mother wished to keep Inge close. You will be an uncle in March.”

  Wilhelm felt his breath grow labored as he fought his escalating temper. He did not know much about the workings of family life, but he did know after conception, a baby took nine months to arrive. “Josef had her with child before the wedding. He knew what he was doing. He deliberately pursued my sister to steal my place in the shop.”

  Heinrich shrugged. “Inge loves him. Josef is a good watchmaker, but he does not have the drive and the perfectionist desire you do. With all the political disruption, we did not know where he might be able to settle or how far away he must go to find work. Your mother worries about your sister.”

  Wilhelm spat out his words. “I hope he at least loves Inge somewhat after what he did to steal my place.”

  Heinrich also stood to face his second son. He stared Wilhelm in the eye. “Yes, I wished to ease your mother’s worries over Inge and to see my daughter provided for. But what I chose for you was my decision.”

  ~o0o~

  As Wilhelm studied Edward, he realized there was a big difference between his cabin-mate and his brother-in-law, Josef. Unlike Josef who married Inge, if Edward got Bridget with child, he
would never marry her.

  Edward snorted in derision. “She’s nothing but poor Irish trash. You get her away from her parents and handle it right, maybe offer her a trinket for her trouble, she’ll come around. Your biggest problem is you don’t know how to flatter a woman.”

  His suspicion about Edward confirmed, Wilhelm pushed past the man in the direction of the stairway to the dining saloon. “You teach me English; I’ll handle the woman my way.”

  Edward called out to Wilhelm’s retreating back. “Speaking of our agreement for me to teach you English, there’s that little matter of my watch that needs to be fixed.”

  Wilhelm spun to face him. “It is winter. Talk to God who controls the weather. I need a calm day when the ship sails smoothly and the wind does not blow much. I did not bring a glass globe to focus the light, so I need good sunlight. When we have a day like that, I’ll fix your watch.”

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  ATLANTIC OCEAN – FEBRUARY 1850

  CHAPTER 7

  ~o0o~

  The calm, sunny day where the wind filled the sails, but did not stir up great waves, finally arrived. Once Wilhelm realized the day was as ideal as it could be, considering they were in constant motion as the ship glided across the swells of the ocean, at the noon meal he announced to Edward they needed to find a spot where he could set up a temporary workbench. He needed to situate it in the center of the ship to minimize movement. Parts of the top deck of the ship needed to block the wind but not cast a shadow.

  Wilhelm brought out the shallow wooden tray he earlier found and commandeered to use for a workbench. It was surrounded with a lip to prevent small parts and tools from rolling off. Edward helped him find a barrel on which to place the tray. A small crate stored on deck served as a stool.

  Wilhelm tasked Edward to guard his workspace as he returned to their cabin long enough to bring up his tools and his chest with its drawers of small watch parts. Although he had not yet removed the face from the watch, Wilhelm was familiar with the maker. He felt confident his supplies included whatever replacement parts he might need if repairs called for more than an adjustment.