Wildflower Girl (4 page)

THE CART JUMPED AND JOLTED
along the bumpy roads and tracks, the two horses trotting in time, their manes blowing in the breeze. Nell Molloy was busy keeping order among her brood, who were singing and playing tricks. After a few miles they would pick up the Sullivan brothers.

This is travelling in style, thought Peggy as she let her feet hang over the side, free and easy. Father Lynch had paid for the cart. He regularly told a story of a husband and wife and child who had been on their last legs at the height of the Famine. The good father gave them a meal and paid their passage for America, but a week later he discovered that they had died on the way to the harbour, too weak and worn out to make the journey to the sea port. Ever since, Father Lynch pledged that anyone from Castletaggart parish who was setting sail for the New World would have the comfort of a good ride on the first step of their journey. No one would leave the town in shame or despondent if Father Lynch had any say in it. There had been too much of that.

The summer countryside flew by. Mile after mile blended into a confusion of colour and images – green hedgerows, wild honeysuckle, high, heavy hawthorns weighed down with boughs full of blossom, small woods of ancient oak and ash where startled wood pigeons broke out in a flap into the clear blue sky.

‘I told your aunt and your sister I’d keep a good eye on you,’ announced Mrs Molloy. She was a big woman and was already hot and sweaty with the heat and all the excitement. ‘Though I know what a good wee lass you are. We’ll all look out for each other.’

‘Thanks,’ mumbled Peggy, grabbing the youngest boy before he fell off the cart.

His mother whacked him on the bottom and told him to ‘sit down proper’ or there’d be no ship for him. Peggy took out some homemade toffee and shared it among the children. Tess Donlon’s toffee was guaranteed to keep anybody busy for a while.

Nell shook her head when it was offered. ‘No, pet, keep it for yourself.’ Over the next half-hour she told Peggy about her husband, Dan, who had gone to America two years before and had worked like a horse to save enough to send some money home and put more aside towards a place of their own in America. The family were getting assistance towards their passage and, God willing, would forget the horrors of the past and start a new life once they reached foreign shores.

The two Sullivan boys climbed on at Mulligs’ Cross. Peggy had never seem them look so neat and tidy. Their hair was washed and cut and their faces shone and looked well scrubbed. Their clothes were
worn but clean. There was no trace of the usual grime and dirt that clung to them when they hung around Market Square in Castletaggart. The younger, Liam, who was about fifteen, whistled out loud. The very air rang with laughter and noise as they trundled on.

They passed villages and farms and small towns. When they came to an incline most of them would get off and old Francie would coax the horses upwards, patting their necks and talking softly to them. They stopped from time to time to rest the animals. After about five hours they were all exhausted, but at last they felt a tang in the air.

‘The sea breeze,’ announced Nell Molloy. Everyone perked up. ‘Breathe in that good salt air, ‘tis great for the lungs,’ she urged.

They had turned off a busy road, crossed a narrow bridge at the estuary of a river where they saw a small stone tower, and now began a fairly steep ascent. They all got off the cart except Nell and the youngest child.

Through thick shrubs and hedges Peggy caught fleeting glimpses of blue. Suddenly they turned a corner and found they were right in Queenstown. The town was built on a steep hill which towered over the vast blueness of the sea below. Huge seabirds flapped lazily in the clear sky, their sounds filling the air.

Peggy had never seen anything like it before. Busy shops and stalls crowded the front where people pushed and shoved to spend their money. There was a holiday atmosphere. The water lapped against the shore wall and bobbed and shone in the sunshine. Across from Queenstown were two islands, and outside lay the open sea. Crowds of ships jostled for
space in the harbour; there were fishing boats and three- and four-masted packet ships. A large ship disappeared over the horizon.

They all lifted their things off the cart and placed them on the ground, unsure what to do next.

‘I must be getting back to Castletaggart after I water the horses and rest them a while,’ said Francie. ‘The best thing is to get yourselves to the shipping office up the street.’ He pointed. ‘Best of luck to each and every one of ye,’ he added, shaking each one by the hand, right down to little Tim. They watched as their last link with Castletaggart vanished down a cobbled laneway.

Mrs Molloy led the way and they all trooped over to the large stone building with the painted wooden façade, with Masters & McCabes Shipping inscribed on it in gold letters. Against the outside wall a wooden board carried a poster with details of the different vessels and their destinations, ships to Liverpool and New York.

Young Tim and Nellie stayed outside while the rest of them went in to see what was what. There was a long wooden bench on one side of the room and they all took a seat. A few minutes later a clerk beckoned to Nell. She stood against the counter, chatting with him.

Next it was Peggy’s turn. She took out the notice and voucher from a hidden pocket sewn inside her skirt. The man looked tired and old. He studied Peggy and examined both pieces of paper.

Peggy looked at her hands and tried not to appear nervous. After a nod of his head he disappeared into a back room and came back with a brown ledger. He
opened it and wrote down the date and Peggy’s name and address.

‘Age?’ he queried.

‘Just fourteen.’

‘Are you or are you not fourteen?’ he insisted.

‘I will be … in a few days,’ stuttered Peggy, trying to make herself look taller and older – and lying.

She could feel herself blushing, and her right leg was beginning to hop – it always began to shake when she was nervous. What in heaven’s name would she do if he wouldn’t let her travel?

‘Humph … well … occupation?’

‘Domestic,’ said Peggy firmly, pulling her shawl tighter around her and looking him square in the eye. He closed the ledger and then went over to the clerk that Nell was with and pulled the black and red book over to his part of the counter.

Written on top of the page were the words: Passenger List. He scrawled in Peggy’s name and details. Then he opened a drawer and from the top of a pile took a big beige ticket with black writing on it and a drawing of part of a ship.

‘You will travel on
The Fortunata
, which will leave here in two days’ time and is bound for Boston. You will travel steerage, and meals and fresh water will be provided. Have you a member of family or someone to assist you on arrival?’

Peggy stood open-mouthed, wondering what answer she should give.

Nell came over, her own business complete. ‘My own darling husband is there, setting up things for us the past two years, and this is my poor dead sister’s
child. Sure we couldn’t leave her behind and us all going to a new life.’

The man nodded and scribbled in the book again.

Once outside the door Peggy hugged Nell. ‘I owe you, thanks!’ she said as she whistled for joy, the ticket in her hand.

‘Now, missee, quiet down,’ urged Nell. ‘We have to find a place to stay until our ship sails. Up the hill there’s a place with large rooms and plenty of beds I’m told.’

They trudged up the hill and found a shabby house with a wooden sign over the door saying: Lodgings – Sea View. Peggy and Nell went in. Nell did all the talking and the surly middle-aged woman finally sighed and told them to bring in the children. They ignored the filthy stairs and the smell of cabbage that permeated the whole house, and followed the woman upstairs. The Sullivan boys and young Tom and Tim took the smaller room and the girls and Nell had the other.

Peggy looked around. There was a small window, so dirty you could hardly see through it, a large double bed and a smaller one put up in the corner. The blankets looked faded and worn and the bed itself creaked and squeaked when little Nellie and Mary sat on it. They stored their stuff for travelling neatly in the corner of the room.

‘We need a good meal to set us up,’ said Nell. ‘I’ll ask the lady of the house about it.’

An hour later they sat around the large kitchen table in the damp, steamy kitchen. A thin slice of greyish bacon and a mound of potatoes and cabbage were
served to all. Their landlady also grudgingly agreed to provide porridge in the morning for a small extra contribution. The chat and tricks of the little ones soon made everyone forget about the over-cooked meal and they agreed to stretch their legs and have a proper look around the town afterwards.

Once darkness fell, Nell felt the family should be in bed. They returned to Sea View. Despite its drabness and discomfort, exhaustion and excitement got the better of them and in no time they were all fast asleep.

PEGGY WOKE FIRST. LITTLE TIM
had abandoned the boys’ room next door and lay sprawled beside his mother. The two little girls were curled up together near the edge of the bed. All were still in a deep sleep.

Peggy tiptoed over to the window and peered through the faded floral curtains. It was early morning and the small fishing boats could be spotted in the distance, treading out to the open sea to search for their day’s catch – and then she noticed it! Through the gaps of the houses, there, clear as day, a large sailing ship, its soaring masts reaching to the sky, higher than all the others.

‘
The Fortunata
,’ she whispered to herself, ‘it’s here.’ She was tempted to shout it out loud and wake the others up, but she resisted.

She crept back to bed, pulled the blanket up around her and fell into a strange dreamy sleep: she was
dressed in a beautiful white dress and Eily was calling her and yet she was dancing and spinning and wouldn’t stop to answer her.

‘Peggy! Peggy! The ship is here!’ Little Tim was clambering all over her and shaking her head with his sticky little hands.

Nell and the girls were standing at the window, bursting with excitement and wiping the sleepy-heads out of their eyes. Peggy yawned and hopped out of bed.

‘Look, Peggy,’ said Mary, ‘do you see it? Isn’t it grand. Our ship is in.’

Getting a family dressed and fed was never accomplished in such a short time. The six of them raced down the steep hill of Queenstown to the quayside. A thrill of excitement ran through Peggy when she saw
The Fortunata.

‘It’s huge,’ gasped Tim.

Giant masts towered above the ship, and a maze of ropes and pulleys criss-crossed backwards and forwards. A cabin boy swung from a rope ladder high above their heads, his tricks earning gasps of admiration from the people below. The sails were rolled up tightly. Two young seamen sat cross-legged on the deck, repairing a wide piece of white canvas. The wooden deck was polished and shone but the under-side of the ship was covered with grey barnacles and slimy green seaweed.

Sailors were busy unloading large bales of cotton, some chests of tea, and a quantity of timber, all being stacked in piles along the quay. They shouted gruffly at the children to ‘Get away out of it and don’t
damage those goods.’ The quay was packed with people trying to get a look at
The Fortunata
, all fellow passengers no doubt.

The next day was the longest ever. Everything was packed and ready to go except the ship. Provisions were being loaded on board and Nell kept fussing over whether she had brought enough with her to keep them going. On the whispered advice of the landlady she had decided to invest in a chamber pot and a tin bucket.

‘You’ll thank me, Mrs, mark my words,’ assured the landlady, pointing Nell in the direction of a hardware shop down the lane which had the best bargains. Peggy had grudgingly taken out some of her money and chipped in towards the cost and was now a part owner of them.

By four o’clock a queue had formed on the quayside. Peggy stood in line, just behind Nell and holding little Nellie by the hand. The children were whingeing and whining and no one could blame them as it was nearly six o’clock by the time they reached the top of the queue. Their names were called out and checked off the ship’s list. They walked across a narrow gangplank which opened straight into the steerage area underneath the deck.

It was just terrible. Not what they expected at all. They stepped down into a wide dark gloomy area where small, narrow bunks were crowded together. No one would fit in them surely, thought Peggy. They had raised wooden edges along the sides. Everybody was pushing and shoving, trying to get into steerage. It was cramped already beyond imagination and yet
more and more passengers kept filing down.

‘Grab some bunks, Mary, quick, make a run for it.’ Dragging the children with her, Nell gathered up their baggage and flung the whole lot towards two bunks, one on top of the other. She shoved the bucket and pot under the lower one. Another woman was trying to put a blanket on the top bunk.

‘Mrs, my children are sitting in that bunk, have you no eyes in your head?’ yelled Nell.

‘There’s no windows, Mammy,’ wailed Mary.

‘No single bunks,’ shouted a ginger-haired sailor. ‘Two or three to a bunk. We’re heavily booked so everyone shares.’

Peggy stood rooted to the spot. She felt so alone she just didn’t know what to do. Suddenly Nell ran over, grabbed Peggy’s bundle and threw it on the top bunk with the girls’ things.

‘Peggy, aren’t you in a right daze. Sure, you’ll be sleeping with Nellie and Mary. I’ll be below with the boys. We’ll stick together through all this.’

Silent, Peggy climbed up on top. She sat on the worn wooden slats and watched the chaos all around her. As every family came aboard the mad scramble for a place became desperate. Single people, widows and orphans stood in the centre of the steerage area, unsure what they should do. In the end, a sailor allotted them a space to share. It was humiliating. God knows how it would be having to share such closeness with total strangers, thought Peggy.

Down below, Nell had relaxed and was chatting to the woman in the bunk beside her. ‘The minute I saw this place I was determined it would be ours. Look,
Mrs, there’s a little hatch there to let some air in and the table is near enough without being too close, if you get my meaning, and isn’t there the extra bonus of a nice neighbour like yourself thrown in.

‘I’m Nell Molloy and this is my brood – Mary, young Nellie, Thomas and Tim – and not forgetting Peggy O’Driscoll, as near family as you can get.’

Peggy smiled but was too busy watching all that was going on to want to get involved in stories and family histories. Along the centre of the lower deck were fixed sturdy oak tables with a long bench on either side. This was their dining area; obviously they would take turns using the tables.

Within an hour and a half, calm had descended on
The Fortunata
.

It was dim and gloomy down below. Peggy couldn’t believe that this dreadful place was where she would spend the next five to six weeks. She could see so much in the faces of fellow passengers – excitement, hope, fear and, in a few, utter misery. They all were aware of the noise of water slapping against the wood of the ship’s frame. Suddenly it seemed louder and stronger, and they realised that the ship was casting off and leaving the quayside.

‘We’re away, she’s sailing,’ someone shouted.

At once there was a mad rush up on deck. They formed a human chain all round the ship. No words were spoken as they feasted their eyes on a last look at Ireland. The sailors raced around, some away up above the deck balancing on the tall masts, others dragging on the thick curving ropes as the heavy canvas sails began to catch the wind; and then
The
Fortunata
moved with the tide and slid silently out towards the wide open sea. The journey had begun.

It was dusk when they filed down below. Everyone was aware that there was no going back.