Annie Moore: First In Line For America E-Book

Eithne Loughrey

• Herausgeber: Mercier Press
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 177

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 1999

Beschreibung

'full of the atmosphere of the time...a very engaging read' Mary Arrigan, Sunday Tribune Based on the true story of the young Irish girl who was the first immigrant to land on Ellis Island, New York. Cork-born Annie Moore was the very first immigrant of any nationality to land at the now historic handling station at Ellis Island, New York, on the day it opened in 1892. This first book in the trilogy tells of Annie's new life in New York: her family, their cramped apartment and her working life. Annie's initial disappointment at her New York life soon disappears as she has a series of adventures.

Leseprobe

Also in the Annie Moore Series:

Annie Moore, Golden Dollar Girl

Annie Moore, New York City Girl

MERCIER PRESS

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Blackrock, Cork, Ireland.

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© Eithne Loughrey, 1999

ISBN: 978 1 85635 245 1

Epub ISBN: 978 1 85635 830 9

Mobi ISBN: 978 1 85635 831 6

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

For my daughter Dara, one of the many who followed in Annie’s footsteps and is now living happily in Arizona.

Acknowledgements

Thanks are due to the following for their help while researching and writing this book: Cobh Heritage Centre who kindly sent me all the information about Annie Moore that they had on their files; Jeff Dosik, librarian at the Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island Museum, who supplied me with information from the American side; the National Library of Ireland, who dug up newspapers and official documents relating to the period; the Maritime Museum in Dun Laoghaire, who helped inform me about trans-atlantic vessels of the time; the Tenement Museum in New York’s Lower East Side, where I learned a lot about how Annie might have lived in nearby Monroe Street; those friends who kindly ‘surfed the Net’ to find useful information for me about the period; my publisher Jo O’Donoghue and my editor Rachel Sirr for their help and enthusiasm; and finally, to my husband John, who encouraged me every step of the way.

Introduction

This is the story of Annie Moore – a young Cork girl who emigrated to the United States from Queenstown (now Cobh) in December 1891 with her two younger brothers to join their parents, who had sailed three years earlier.

Anyone who has visited the excellent heritage Centre in Cobh, County Cork, which houses the permanent ‘Queenstown Story’ exhibition, will have seen Jeanne Rynhart’s life-size sculpture of Annie Moore and her brothers outside the entrance. A similar sculpture by this artist has been erected in the Ellis Island Museum in New York.

Why is Annie Moore commemorated in this way?

Annie Moore arrived in America on 1 January 1892 – the very day of her fifteenth birthday – after a ten-day voyage across the Atlantic. But the reason she stands out from the millions of other immigrants who sailed into New York Harbour is that she was the first immigrant of any nationality to set foot on American soil at the new Immigrant Landing Station on Ellis Island, which was officially opened on the day of her arrival. To celebrate the occasion she was presented with a $10 gold piece by welcoming dignitaries, a fact which was reported in the New York newspapers of the day as well as in the Cork Examiner. Annie Moore was truly ‘first in line for America’ at Ellis Island. Some twelve million immigrants, of which 580,000 were Irish, were to pass through this immigration station in the subsequent six decades.

With such an auspicious start in the New World, Annie Moore is symbolic of a new wave of immigrants. She made her voyage some forty years after the Famine and although she was poor she wasn’t destitute. She travelled in a modern steamship in relative comfort, even as a steerage passenger – a far cry from the plight of those who sailed in the Famine ships.

After being united with their parents, the Moore children went off to their new home at 32 Monroe Street, in the Lower East Side of New York City. Further information about the family is somewhat sketchy. The names of Ellen King, Mike Tierney and John and Mary Ryan were all listed as fellow-passengers on the ship’s manifest for the S.S. Nevada on that voyage, and I have taken the liberty of casting all of them as characters in my story. This book is largely a work of fiction and, as such, a personal interpretation of how Annie and her brothers might have lived in turn-of-the-century New York.

The unveiling of the Annie Moore sculpture in Cobh, County Cork by former President Mary Robinson in February 1993 coincided with the opening of the Cobh Heritage Centre. Indeed the sculpture, created by well-known Irish sculptor Jeanne Rynhart, won the ICI Commemorative Sculpture Award. The idea of commemorating Annie Moore, however, was first conceived by the Irish American Cultural Institute in New York. With official endorsements from the US and Irish governments, a similar sculpture by the same artist was erected on Ellis Island to coincide with the Centennial and Rededication of Ellis Island in 1992. This sculpture was also unveiled by Mary Robinson. These parallel projects are seen as a fitting tribute to the millions of immigrants who followed in Annie’s footsteps.

1 – New Horizons

Annie thought she’d be trampled to death in the crush as the passengers surged up the narrow gangplank and scrambled to find space on deck. Holding fast to her small trunk with one hand, she kept a grip on Philip with the other. Ahead she could see Anthony’s red head bobbing up and down as, laden with baggage and rolled-up bedding, he pushed his way to the rail on the leeward side of the tender to catch a last glimpse of their aunt and uncle.

‘Over here, Annie, I’ve found a place,’ he called.

With one heave, Annie and Philip broke free from the body of the crowd and joined their brother. The noise was overwhelming. The roar of the engines and the mournful hooting of the horn drowned out even the screaming gulls. Pandemonium reigned on board the tender just as it had on the quayside earlier. Porters pushed and swore as they carted enormous boxes of provisions on board. Steerage passengers were escorted on board for the short trip out to the steamer, which was lying at anchor at the mouth of Queenstown harbour.

‘All aboard, all aboard,’ yelled the steward through a loud hailer.

A wave of panic swept over Annie as her eyes scanned the figures on the quayside. The wan faces all looked the same in the morning light. The train remained there right beside the quay, its tall, narrow funnel still gently belching smoke, although all passengers from Cork had long since disembarked. She could see the horses and carts, having dispatched their cargo, leaving the dockside and trundling up the narrow road towards the town. Tears blinded her. Shivering, she pulled her two young brothers closer, her tears falling on Anthony’s tight red curls. The boys clung to her gratefully, silenced for once.

Suddenly there was a mighty clang as the gangplank was pulled up and the rails secured; then they were pulling away from the quay wall. All eyes on board looked their last on the waving hands and stricken faces of the loved ones left behind.

To those departing on board that tender, Queenstown had never looked more splendid than it did on that cold December morning. Lit by the pale winter sun, the imposing new cathedral seemed to give the passengers a parting blessing from the hill. The houses, rising in exuberant terraces from sea level, seemed to look beyond them out to sea, as if they had already let them go. Wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys merged with the long trail of black smoke left by the tender as it moved out beyond Spike Island.

The faces gradually became distant specks, and the passengers fell silent, cowed by the looming shape ahead. The Guion Royal and United States mail steamer, the SSNevada, lay at the entrance to the harbour waiting to take them on board. Far above them the letters SSNevadastood out boldly from a blinding white background.

Looking up, Annie thought the steamer the most heart-stopping sight she’d ever seen. Suddenly her spirits lifted. ‘Look boys,’ she cried, turning them around to face it, ‘isn’t that a grand ship that’s taking us to America?’

Charlie and Norah Twomey waved till they could no longer distinguish the forlorn little group waving from the tender as it drew away from them and moved out into the harbour. Charlie, his arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders, drew her away from the quay and guided her towards the entrance to the railway station. ‘Annie will look after the boys, Norah, don’t you fret,’ he soothed.

Norah struggled to hold back the tears. ‘She will. I know they’ll be all right. It’s just … they looked so lonely Charlie. It’s such a long way. Besides, I’m sorry to be letting them go, I’d got so fond of them all.’ At this she broke down and cried openly, overcome with loneliness already for the children who had been like her own for the past three years.

‘I know that, dearest, but it’s best for children to be with their own parents, and now that Annie is getting so grown-up and all, ’tis more fitting that Matt and Mary tend to her.’

Norah smiled a little at that. Annie had indeed become a handful in the last year. Just turning fifteen, she was tall for her age and strikingly pretty, with thick auburn hair almost reaching her waist. Wide hazel eyes looked out of a strong face with high cheekbones and a rosy complexion. She had already been marked out as the ‘prettiest girl in Shandon’, and her outgoing personality and sense of humour meant that she was also one of the liveliest. Besides, she had a saucy way with her and it wasn’t a minute too soon for her to be under the firm guiding eye of her own parents, Norah thought.

Annie and her two young brothers had lived with their Aunt Norah and Uncle Charlie in Chapel Street in Shandon since their parents and older brother Tom had left for America to earn their fortune nearly three years before. They were to stay in Shandon until such time as their parents had made a home for them in New York. Annie had thought her heart would break when her parents had departed Queenstown. She was afraid she would never set eyes on them again. Letters had been frequent enough, however, to reassure her that they were managing quite well and living in what was called the Lower East Side of New York City, and while they had not exactly made their fortune, they had, through determination and sheer hard work, already improved their circumstances.

‘I miss you all,’ wrote her mother, Mary Moore. ‘It will be grand when you come out here to join us. Be patient and Father will book your passage as soon as he can.’

From Mother’s letters Annie had gleaned enough about life in New York for it to sound exciting, even frightening. Mary told of the huge crowds of people everywhere – many of them speaking strange languages – the trains that ran high above street level, all filled to overflowing with people coming and going from factories and offices, and the long lines of carriages and horse cars on the city streets.

She described too the splendour of the buildings and the fine parks, the long elegant tree-lined avenues where the gentry lived, and the stylish shops, which were on a scale that she had never seen in her life. Mother explained that these ‘department stores’ stocked everything a body could need but only the gentry could afford to buy there. Fashionable ladies would arrive at Macy’s – a bit like Cash’s only a million times bigger – and leave their private carriages waiting while they spent hours getting fitted out for ‘the season’. ‘They must have dresses for every occasion,’ Mother told them, ‘ball dresses, walking dresses, travelling dresses, evening robes and even dresses for the garden.’

For all the splendour of life in America as described in Mother’s letters, Annie sensed that her parents were experiencing a different kind of existence in this city so far across the ocean. She guessed that a very real home-sickness lay beneath the enthusiastic accounts of the doings of the rich and famous and that the reality of her parents’ lives was far from glamorous. Father had found a job in a shirt factory and Mother, after initially working as a domestic help for a wealthy old lady who had since died, had recently got work taking in sewing at which she toiled day and night. Tom, Annie’s older brother, worked as a ‘bell hop’ in a big hotel – that meant a junior porter, according to Uncle Charlie – and hoped to be promoted to porter after a couple of years. Indeed, reading between the lines Annie reached the conclusion that all her parents did was work.

Nonetheless, the letters imparted a sense of excitement and adventure that made Uncle Charlie and Auntie Norah envious and made the children look forward to their future in the New World. Norah and Charlie Twomey were a relatively young couple, not long married. As yet they had no family of their own and so were only too happy to take Annie and her brothers under their wing until it was time for them to join their parents. Norah was proud of her niece’s good looks and bright personality and treated here like a younger sister. Anthony and Philip were a lively pair and greatly enjoyed by their Uncle Charlie, who brought them road bowling on Sunday morning, or down to see the foreign ships anchored along the quays, and even bathing in Crosshaven in summer.

Of late, Annie had really been blossoming. She had a fine singing voice and had recently been taking piano lessons with Miss Dwyer, who said she showed unusual promise. She spent a lot of her spare time in the home of her friend Julia Donohue, who lived nearby and, like Annie, attended the local convent school. Julia came from a large family and Mrs Donohue always made Annie feel like a part of it, not like a visitor the way you felt in most people’s homes.

Life was full and Annie was happy. So it came as something of a shock when a letter from her father to Aunt Norah arrived in November, announcing that passage had been booked for Annie and the boys on the SS Nevada, scheduled to leave Queenstown on 21 December and arrive in New York on New Year’s Day 1892 – Annie’s fifteenth birthday! Three tickets were enclosed, leaving no doubt about the reality of this unexpected news.

The boys were enthralled. Aged eleven and seven, they could only see this development as a marvellous adventure, something to really look forward to. Meanwhile, they got on with life as usual. Annie was thrilled and a little frightened by turns. On the one hand, she longed to be reunited with her parents and her older brother. On the other, she didn’t want to be torn from the comfort and enjoyment of her present life and catapulted into the unknown. Her head was full of questions. What kind of life would she have in America? Would her parents have changed much?

Annie spent the remaining weeks dreading the upheaval. She’d miss Christmas with her aunt and uncle and the party at Donohue’s on St Stephen’s Day. What kind of Christmas would it be on board a big ship out on the ocean with lots of people she didn’t even know? Dark doubts assailed her when she was alone in bed at night, although outwardly she showed only enthusiasm as she helped Norah to prepare their belongings. After all, Father and Mother were longing to see their children again. Father even mentioned in the letter that they hoped very much that the children would arrive on the very day of Annie’s fifteenth birthday so they could all have an even bigger celebration.

Annie’s misgivings had to be put aside during her final days at home in any case, as they hastened to get everything ready. Goodbyes had to be said and presents purchased for her parents and for Tom. Mother had requested little things, which just couldn’t be found in New York for all its grand shops! Could Auntie Norah please send some Keating’s cough lozenges for Tom who suffered from a bad chest and some Albion milk and sulphur soap for herself, and oh, how they longed for drisheen from the English Market off the Grand Parade or some butter from the much-missed Butter Market in Shandon, but they knew such things could never survive the journey across the Atlantic.

Despite Annie’s apparent enthusiasm, Norah could see that her young niece had mixed feelings and tried to reassure her. ‘You’ll love it there, Annie. It’s the land of plenty. You’ll get on and make just as many friends as you have here. And you can write and tell us all about it. Maybe we’ll go there some day too.’

‘Oh, might you, auntie?’ cried Annie, here eyes widening with delight. ‘That would be marvellous.’

That prospect helped to distract her for a while. Auntie Norah had made her think that perhaps the world wasn’t as big as she had been imagining. Maybe, after all, it would be a great life. If they could only all stay together, surely no misfortune could befall them.

2 – Finding Their Sea Legs

By the time Annie climbed into her bunk on board the steamer that first night, her mind was awash with impressions of a day different to any she’d experienced before. Feelings of loneliness and apprehension had almost immediately been swept aside by the events of the day. It hadn’t even been possible to get out to the decks until the vessel was well under way, and the last Annie saw of her native land was the lighthouse at Mizen Head. Life on board ship, she and her brothers were soon to discover, was a busy as a fair day in Macroom.

Getting on board the steamer from the tender was made easier for Annie and her brothers by a pleasant-looking young man who appeared at her elbow as they drew level with the massive vessel and effortlessly lifted her trunk and placed it on his shoulders. Then he tucked her rolled-up bedding under his other arm and smiled at her. ‘You look after them,’ he gestured towards the boys. He appeared to have almost no luggage himself, and as they waited to go on board he explained that he had emigrated to the United States some years previously and had only returned briefly for his brother’s ordination. ‘My name is Mike Tierney,’ he told her. ‘I work in New York City – I’m a tailor.’

Annie looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. He seemed so sure of himself. ‘We’re going out there to be with our parents,’ she explained shyly, adding, ‘We haven’t seen them for a few years.’

Then the crowd began to surge forwards and further conversation was impossible. As soon as they were on board, Mike Tierney deposited her luggage at her feet.

‘I’m in the men’s quarters. I probably won’t see you on board at all. So I wish you good luck.’ He smiled and was gone as quickly as he had appeared at her side only a short while earlier.

‘Let me see your passage tickets, Miss.’ A burly young steward stopped Annie and the boys. All passengers were being directed to their accommodation by watchmen placed on each deck. Although the numbers of their berths were clearly marked on their passage tickets, Annie was repeatedly questioned about the boys, especially Anthony. What age were they? Where were their parents? Was she sure her brothers shouldn’t be berthing in the men’s section? It was only later in the voyage that she learned how strict the authorities were about segregating men from women on board. Even boys of just twelve years of age had to be separated from their womenfolk unless they were placed in family accommodation with their parents.

Having finally persuaded the authorities that Anthony was only eleven, Annie and the boys were directed to their quarters. Down and down they went, descending steep, dark staircases, hauling their heavy baggage with them. Having trudged for what seemed like miles through a labyrinth of passageways, the little group eventually reached a large open area, aft of the lower deck, with the women’s sleeping quarters at one side and the married couple’s accommodation at the other side of the deck. They were directed to a large dormitory which they would share with twenty women of different ages and half a dozen or so other children. Most had boarded the ship at Liverpool and were already well settled in.