Castle Garden - Chapter 82

New York, 1869

Previously...

As the Union entered New York Harbor, Johann, Thomas, and Michael watched the city come into view. They boarded a crowded barge with the other steerage passengers for the short trip to Castle Garden. The Union slipped from sight as the barge rounded the Battery.

*

The tug slowed as the crowded barge bumped against the dock at Castle Garden.

Crewmen sprang forward, looping heavy lines around iron bollards while others set the gangway in place. Before it was secured, voices rose above the bustle.

“Keep the line moving!” a crewman shouted toward the waiting passengers.

Another voice followed. “Mind your step!”

As Johann, Thomas, and Michael stepped onto the gangway, the breeze carried the sharp smell of fish and salt. Behind them, families pressed forward across the gangway, clutching bundles and children.

The gentle roll of the Union remained beneath his feet as Johann stepped onto the dock. Around him, exhaustion seemed forgotten. People called to one another, laughing as they stepped onto the landing. A man lifted his little boy into the air and hugged him against his chest.

Johann felt a smile tug at his mouth.

We made it.

Attendants stationed along the landing ushered hundreds of immigrants toward the great doors of Castle Garden.

The noise struck Johann like a wave as he crossed the threshold. Voices echoed beneath the great rotunda until they blended into a single roar. Men shouted directions. Porters threaded through the crowd with handcarts piled high with trunks. People surged from one queue to another.

German mixed with Swedish. English collided with languages Johann had never heard before. A woman’s laughter rose above the voices. A child wailed from somewhere in the crowd.

Thomas leaned toward him and raised his voice. Johann caught only half the words.

“What?”

Thomas repeated himself, his words lost in the din.

Johann nodded, though he was no more certain than before.

Michael laughed. “You’d have to shout into a man’s ear to be heard in here!”

Johann looked around. He had never seen so many people gathered beneath one roof. Families struggled to keep together as children wove between trunks and bundles. Wooden railings divided the crowd into long, narrow lines. Officials called instructions while clerks hurried behind long counters.

“After all this time together, I expected America to greet us with something better than another queue,” Michael said.

Johann chuckled. “Ja.”

When he looked up, Thomas was already nodding. The official pointed toward another queue.

Thomas glanced where the official had indicated, then back at Johann and Michael. “Time to say goodbye, I expect.”

Michael grinned. “Aye, this is where we lose you.”

Thomas smiled. “Looks that way.”

He offered his hand to each of them. “Safe travels, both of you.”

“And you,” Johann said.

Thomas tipped his cap and disappeared into the crowd.

The official looked at Johann.

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”

“Ja.”

The official pointed toward another queue.

Johann looked at Michael.

Michael offered his hand. “Best of luck, Johann.”

“And you.”

“Keep moving,” the official said.

Johann gave Michael a last nod and headed toward the line the attendant had pointed out. He took his place behind a woman carrying a sleeping child. She shifted the child higher on her shoulder. Beside her, a little boy clung to her skirt with one hand while clutching a rag doll with the other.

He glanced toward the crowd where Thomas and Michael had disappeared.

The Union carried us across the Atlantic... America seems determined to scatter us.

The queue edged forward a few paces before stopping again. One family at a time stepped to the counter while the rest waited their turn.

The woman in front of Johann gathered her children and moved aside. An attendant motioned him forward.

Johann handed over his papers.

Without looking up, the clerk unfolded them and turned to the next page of the great folio in front of him.

“Name and age?”

“Johann Albert Bauer. Twenty.”

The clerk made several marks on the page before raising his eyes. “Destination?”

“Minnesota.”

He paused. “Where in Minnesota?”

“Sibley. My uncle is Ernst Redetzke.”

“How much money have you?”

Johann shifted his weight. “None.”

“Have you a ticket to Minnesota?”

“No.”

The clerk made another note before looking up again. He handed Johann’s papers back to him. “Take these to the forwarding counter.”

Johann stared at him. “Where?”

As he joined the line the clerk had indicated, Johann smiled despite himself, remembering Michael’s comment about America greeting them with another queue.

The man ahead of him spoke German, though his accent was so unfamiliar Johann understood little of what he said. The man gathered his papers and moved away. Johann stepped forward and handed his own to the clerk.

The clerk’s eyes moved across the page until his finger paused on a line. “Ernst Redetzke...” he murmured. His gaze dropped to the next line. “Under the care of his uncle.”

He looked up. “He’s expecting you?”

“Yes.”

“Has he sent money for your journey from here to Minnesota?”

“I don’t know.”

“When did you leave home?”

“August.”

The clerk drew a ledger toward him and opened it. Johann waited while he ran a finger down one column, then another, working his way back through the pages before closing the book.

He reached for another ledger and began again. Several pages later, his finger stopped.

“Here it is. August.” He studied the entry. “Ernst Redetzke. Transit Township, Sibley County.”

He looked up at Johann. “Your uncle sent money three months ago for your journey from New York.”

Ernst hasn’t been here long, yet he found the money for my train fare. How had he managed that?

“You’re fortunate he hasn’t already asked for it back.”

Johann lowered his gaze. “I was delayed along the way.”

The clerk made a notation in the ledger. “Take your papers to the railroad counter. They’ll arrange the rest of your journey.” He pointed across the rotunda.

“Danke.” Johann gathered his papers and stepped away. He wove through the crowd, watching for Michael among the faces. He’ll need a train to Illinois.

The line for the railroad was the longest yet. I may spend my first day in America standing in lines. Every so often, Johann looked over his shoulder. No matter how far he moved toward the front, the line behind him seemed to grow longer.

When the elderly man ahead of him stepped aside, Johann moved forward and handed over his papers.

The railroad booker looked them over. “Where are you headed?”

“Transit Township. Minnesota.”

“Transit Township?” The booker studied the papers. “Sibley County?”

“Ja.”

He pulled a map closer and studied it for a moment. “Baggage?”

“None.”

The booker paused. “Oh?”

Johann tugged at the end of his mustache. “I lost my bag.”

The agent gave a small nod. “You’re not the first.” He turned back to the map and traced the route with his pen. “You’ll travel through Chicago. Show your tickets when you change trains. They’ll tell you where to go.”

The booker filled out a slip and handed it to Johann with his papers. “Take this to the ticket windows,” he said, pointing to the row to the right. “Third one.”

Johann shook his head. Another queue. I hope Sophie and her baby don’t have to stand in all these lines when she’s released.

At the third window, the agent examined each passenger’s papers before preparing the tickets. The line inched forward. When the window cleared, Johann passed his slip across the counter.

The agent examined it and prepared Johann’s tickets. A few coins clicked onto the counter beside them. “Your balance.”

Johann tucked the tickets carefully beside his papers and closed his fingers around the coins.

For the first time since Bremen, no one was telling him to wait.

He made his way through the crowd toward the doors. As he stepped outside, the roar of Castle Garden fell behind him. Johann headed for the train west.

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