A Promising First Kiss

A Promising First Kiss

The day Bridget and her family left Belfast the rain poured down on the ship. She could barely see any of the other passengers going up the gangplank ahead of them. Everything was soaked and there was almost no warmth on the ship. Luckily steerage got warmth from the big steam boilers.

Once the ship got under way, things became very unpleasant. Many people became seasick and struggled to the deck to heave over the side. Bridget and her brother Michael were already there, watching Ireland disappear forever. Even though her mother assured them that America would be a wonderful place and their new life would be better than starving on a rain-soaked farm that was not theirs, Bridget was sure she would never have friends like she was leaving behind. Michael was heartbroken that they had to leave their dog.

Her older sister Katherine, was inspecting all the other immigrants on the ship. They all looked poor and beaten. There were a few swaggering young men who believed they would be a great gift to America. They would grab it by the coat and shake all the wealth it had into their own pockets. Most of the others on the ship looked across the great ocean with a mixture of apprehension and hope. Some had relatives that were already there waiting for them. Some were going to work off their passage in sweat shops that had contracted for them through the shipping line. Katherine had nothing but a strong back and the dream of what she heard America was.

Bridget, hoped she could get work in a mill or factory. The American Civil War was still going and the soldiers still needed uniforms and blankets. All that sorrow meant work for someone.

Their mother was practical, she told them that they would have to find work and she could take in washing and needlework. She would have to be home with Michael until he was old enough to work. Schooling, never entered the conversation. They all could read and write a little. Any more they needed, they could pick up along the way. Big dreams could wait until they had money coming in to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.

After they came to the open ocean, the weather settled and bright blue sky and deep blue ocean made everyone more positive. It was a good omen. Bridget stood near the rail and stared at the horizon expecting to see America pop up any moment.

“You will be looking at that horizon for a lot of days yet, miss,” A young man said beside her.

The voice startled her out of a daydream and she jumped, “How do you know what I’m looking at?” she asked him.

He smiled, “I didn’t mean to startle you. We are all looking for the same thing, even if it is still very far away.”

She glanced at him and then down at the ocean, “It is at that. I wonder if it will be as lovely as everyone says.”

He turned her by her shoulder. “Lovely, not a bit of it. America is great and hard and a fight for everything. Anyone who can stick it out can be his own man and live the life of a king. Not lovely miss, glorious.”

Bridget looked at the gleam in his eye and heard the ambition in his voice. “You look like you can stick it out. What is your name?

“I beg your pardon, I’m Peter, Peter Collins,” the young man said dropping his hands.

“I’m Bridget, Bridget Clair, pleased to meet you. Is your whole family going to America?”

“No, well yes. It’s just me and my brother. We are all that’s left. Our Ma and Pa are dead back in Ireland.”

“I’m very sorry,” the girl said, crossing herself.

“At least their troubles are over,” Peter sighed, looking out to the horizon and blinking.

Michael appeared at Bridget’s side, “Ma wants you,” he said.

“I’ll have to go. It was a pleasure to meet you, Peter.”

“And to meet you, Bridget,” Peter said, bowing is head.

He gazed after her as she followed her little brother down the stairs. Then smiled at the sky.

After that, Peter made sure he checked the railing several times a day so he could spend more time with Bridget. He made sure to tell her she looked nice and asked after her family right off. Then he would ask questions about where she lived and what she liked. Every evening, she would be called away by Michael.

Katherine had noticed that she had been meeting the boy every day. “Does he know that you are only fifteen?” she asked. Do you know that he and his brother were practically run out of Belfast because their Pa was a scab?”

“Don’t use that word, Katherine. A man does what he has to so he can feed his family,” said their mother.

“What’s a scab?” asked Michael.

“Someone who puts his union brothers out of work when they are on strike against the rich man,” said Katherine.

Their mother frowned at her, “It is a man who goes to work when other men are on strike because his family is starving and the other men call him a name.”

Bridget’s face turned bright red, “Do you know they beat him so bad for it that he died?”

Katherine opened her mouth and closed it again.

“Oh, so you spread gossip before you know everything?” Briget accused.

“Well, I still don’t trust him with you. He and his brother are, worldly.”

“Has he made advances?” asked her mother.

“No, Ma.”

“Then, I don’t think we have to worry tonight,” Mrs. Clair said.

As they stood at the rail the next day Peter asked, “How old are you, Briget?”

“I’m just fifteen. How old are you?

“I’m seventeen.”

What are you and Patrick going to do when you get to New York?

“We thought we could work on the docks like in Belfast. But there were some lads talking about how much you get paid substitutin’ for soldiers.”

“What is that,” Briget asked.

“Well, if a man is supposed to go to war, he pays you to go in his stead,” he explained.

“But its war, that is too dangerous!” the girl cried.

“They say the war is almost over. It couldn’t be for more than a year. Probably just guarding ammunition and horses, and you get your clothes and food into the bargain.” he argued.

“Surely, you wouldn’t go,” she pleaded.

“It’s better than working for ten cents an hour doin’ hard labor.” He saw she was troubled and changed the subject. “Do you know where you will live when you get there?

Briget laughed bitterly, “The slums like every other Irishman, at first. But with three of us working, we should be able to find something better in a few months.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You and your family will do great in New York,” he beamed.

Michael was walking towards them.

 “Time for you to go,” Peter said and tapped Briget’s nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

In ten days, they were nearing New York. As they approached, the sea lanes became more and more crowded. There was every kind of vessel heading into the port, Briget, Peter and Patrick stood staring out at the mass of ships and people crushing together in the harbor. Mrs. Clare and her two other children were crowded on the deck waiting to step onto the pier.

Mrs. Clair noticed a seedy looking man with a sandwich board reading, “Rooms to Let.”

“Let the rats eat you,” she thought.

They all came off the boat in a confused crowd. They were swooped upon by slum lords and sweat shop owners. Patrick and Peter herded the family to a quiet spot behind a pile of cargo. “We had best wait here until the crow thins out,” said Patrick.

“What if all the rooms are gone?” asked Katherine.

“There will always be plenty of those kinds of rooms. And don’t let anyone talk you into a place where you two sleep away from your mother,” Patrick cautioned the two girls.

After the crowd thinned, the group walked along the waterfront until they found the Salvation Army. The workers were handing out fresh bread and watery soup. Mrs. Clair and the children could have cots for the night after the sermon. The Collins boys would have to stay somewhere else. They believed Irish men were rough and drunkards. They did have a list of tenements that would take the family but not Patrick and Peter.

The next morning, the Clair family walked to the slums and secured a two-room flat with no water and a public pump and outhouse in the yard. Mrs. Clair stayed in the flat with Michael while Katherine and Briget went back to the docks to meet the Collins boys and let them know they had found a place.

Patrick and Peter had spent the night huddled near the enlistment tent. They had been approached by an obviously rich man late in the evening looking for someone to substitute for his two sons. He paid them each several hundred dollars and the paperwork to take the place of his children. They accepted gladly and waited the rest of the night for the soldiers to return to enlist.

The girls found them just as they were to assemble to move out and collect their gear. 

“You’ve done it anyway,” said Briget.

“I have. Tell me where I can find you when I come back.”

She had written the address on a scrap of paper and handed it to him. She began to cry.

Peter held her by her shoulders, “I’ll come back as soon as I can. Be safe. Take this so we can have a good start after the war.” He pressed his money into her hand. Then he grasped her face in his hands and kissed her with as tenderly as he could. She sobbed against his chest before Patrick pulled him away.

“We have to go now,” he said

Katherine and Briget watched the brothers line up and march out of view. They turned and staggered slowly from the waterfront.

Katherine tried to console her sister. “You’ll have to find a good spot to hide that money so it will keep for a whole year. Just think how you and Peter can live. Ma will have to find the priest right away, so you will be ready when he comes back.

They rounded a corner and saw a shop engulfed in fire. A crowd was running toward the screams coming from the smoke. A man rushing toward the front door, shoved Briget and she stumbled backwards into the street, right in front of the fire wagon. She was crushed instantly by the horses and wheels. Katherine shrieked in horror and dragged her sister from the street. There was nothing she could do. She sat with the body, grief-stricken, until a policeman gathered them both and took them back to the slum. 

Peter and Patrick were both killed at the battle of Spotsylvania Court house.

The terrible pity was that the sweethearts first kiss was also their last.