The life and adventures of Margaret Stewart.
This is a story based on a real person and facts about her life. I've embellished, dramatized, and taken literary license to make it more entertaining than a dry biography.
I've found the facts in this story and what this woman accomplished amazing. She showed courage that many of us would be hard pressed to duplicate.
Captain Reginald Collingsworth Smyth sat at the desk in his home office in Devonshire, England. It was early spring in 1894 and he had a decision to make. The results didn't really bother him but the execution was troubling. He had received orders to report for duty in South Africa. The Boers and the Zulus were rebelling against English rule and the empire had decided to augment the troops already in place.
Smyth's orders weren't the problem; he was eager to go as it meant a promotion to Major and this posting would further his rise up the ranks. He was a career army officer and hoped to be a general one day. But first he had to do his duty and pay his dues as it were. Therefore the posting to South Africa suited him very well.
The problem was his 12 year old daughter Margaret Rose. His wife Mary Katherine had died when Margaret was 8. For the last four years Smyth had "farmed" his daughter out to relatives and friends. Smyth would visit his daughter when he had leave from his duties but did so mostly to get sympathy from his relatives so they would continue to raise the girl for him. He also sent money once a month to whoever had the young girl. Not because he worried about the care Margaret received but it made it easier to get someone to watch over her.
The Captain really didn't care that much for Margaret; in fact he resented his responsibility to her. He had only married to further his chances for promotions by presenting a stable home life to his superiors. Smyth felt that Margaret's presence held him back and placed a strain on his chosen career. In truth, Reginald Smyth was a pompous ass that cared for no one and nothing but himself and how to get ahead in the army.
That's what I'll do, he thought as an idea had popped into his head. I'll send Margaret to my sister in law, Mildred, in America. She lives in some God forsaken place called Peoria in the Providence of Illinois. I'll send her a telegram today.
Margaret was an intelligent youngster. She was always at the top of her class in school in spite of moving from household to household as the hospitality of her cousins, aunt and uncles ran its course. Each place she stayed she was required to help with the household chores. Margaret didn't mind; it made her feel like part of the family and the home where ever she stayed.
Margaret had been at her current "foster" home the longest. She was living with a cousin, Florence Teasdale. Florence was several years older than Captain Smyth and lived in a large cottage in a middle class neighborhood. She lived alone and had enjoyed having Margaret stay there. The problem that arose was that Florence was moving to Perth Australia within the next six months to live with her son, his wife and their three children in Perth. Margaret once again would be for all intents and purposes homeless. There wasn't room for the young girl who was an orphan in everything but name.
I think I remind Father too much of Mum, Margaret thought. Why else would he have me live with others instead of with him? I've lived with almost everyone Father knows at one time or another; some more than once. But I guess now he will find us a place to live and we'll be together.
Margaret was correct in her assumption that she reminded her father of his departed wife but not for the reasons she thought. It was true that Margaret bore an uncanny resemblance to her mother. She had the same long dark hair, the same blue eyes and the same almost flawless porcelain like complexion of her mother. Margaret had inherited her father's height and build as she was well formed and tall for her age. She also had her father's calculating, almost cold, mind. If a problem or crisis arose she would solve the problem or handle the crisis without emotion. At least until the situation was taken care of.
Three weeks later Captain Smyth came to see his daughter. Margaret hadn't seen her father for about three months but it didn't make any difference. In the way of all children she was overjoyed to see him. She loved him and had missed him.
"Margaret I've been posted to South Africa," Reginald said by way of greeting. No "hello daughter or love", no "good to see you"; not even a dutiful hug, just his announcement. "You will be going to live with your Aunt Mildred and her family in America. Pack your things; your ship sails from Bristol the day after tomorrow."
"Can't I go with you Father?" Margaret asked hopefully. "How can we see each other if you're in Africa?"
"No my girl, you can't come with me. There are no accommodations for a family at the outpost. I will write to you monthly and when I return to England I will send for you."
In fact, as a Major, Smyth could have brought his family. He had been assigned an apartment that would allow him to bring his loved ones. The Army knew that to keep the officers happy and morale high they needed their families with them if possible for the months of hard duty. In fact Smyth simply did not want to be bothered with his daughter. He quickly got Margaret packed with most of her worldly possessions which fit into two large suitcases and a small overnight bag.
They boarded the train to Bristol early the next morning. Arriving in the port city Captain Smyth arranged lodging for the evening. Margaret didn't know it but it would be the last night she would ever spend in England.
Just after sunrise the Captain escorted Margaret to a pier. The Empress of India, a passenger ship, was sailing for New York City in America on the morning tide. He gave his daughter her ticket for steerage and a large leather wallet that contained Margaret's birth certificate and his sister in law's name and address. In the wallet Smyth had put $50 in United States currency; he'd made the money exchange at his bank before leaving for Bristol.
Reginald Smyth gave Margaret a half hearted hug, kissed her cheek and turned her over to the care of the Purser who was in charge of getting the passengers on board the vessel. He walked away never once turning back to see his daughter waving goodbye with tears in her eyes.
The ship would carryover 500 hundred people. There were 50 First Class berths, 118 Second class, and on this voyage 312 passengers in steerage. The First Class had private state rooms equal to any expensive hotel in England. Second Class traveled in smaller but still private state rooms. The passengers traveling steerage would share part of the cargo hold.
There were no staterooms; just a great open expanse. Each family or group would "stake out" a section of the deck as their own. The four bathrooms placed in each corner of the hold would be shared by all 312 passengers without regard to sex. First Class dined in a special VIP section of the main dining room while Second Class used the rest of the room. A galley had been installed on the fantail for the use of the steerage passengers. They in steerage cooked their own meals using their own supplies on the fantail. They either ate on deck in good weather or down in the hold if the weather turned bad.
Margaret stood in line, waiting to board the ship. First Class would board and then the Second Class passengers would follow. Neither of those groups would have to wait for the lowly steerage travelers to get out of their way. Steerage passengers would board last and be directed to the cargo hold. They would only be allowed on the fantail of the ship as it left port.
No standing at the rail waving goodbye to friends and family, no paper streamers thrown to celebrate the adventure, and no champagne for a toast for calm seas and a smooth voyage. Basically it was "stay out of the way" and "know your place" for the ones traveling steerage. They were treated better than livestock but not by much.
The young girl was deep in thought as the line started to move onto the ship. Margaret was sad to leave her father, her friends and England but she was a little excited to be going to a new country. A shout broke into her thoughts and brought her back to the gangplank. A young man of about 18 was running down the gangplank yelling and gesturing. It wasn't until he got closer that Margaret understood what he was yelling.
"Catch it please. Could someone catch that blasted ticket please," the young man yelled as he ran back toward the pier.
Margaret looked up and saw a piece of paper floating on the swirling sea breeze. As it passed over her head she reached up and snagged the object out of the air just before it could go over the side of the gangplank into the water. As the young man got closer, Margaret turned to him.
"Is this what you were chasing?" She asked holding the object out to him.
He smiled and took the offered paper. "Sure and you're an angel sent to watch over this dumb farm boy." His voice had the lilt of Ireland and his brogue was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "I'm Sean Riley and I thank you young Lass. He bowed and said, "Idiot that I am I didn't hold on to my ticket when the wind came up. Without it I would have been standing on the dock watching as you sailed away."
Margaret couldn't help but smile at Sean's accent and his expression of gratitude. "You're welcome, I'm glad I was able to catch the wayward thing."
"And what is your name? I should know the name of my savior." Looking around Sean asked, "Where is your family? I would like to thank them also for raising such a fine colleen."
"I'm traveling alone to meet my Aunt in America," Margaret replied. "My father is an army officer and he's been posted to South Africa so it's off to America for me."
Sean hid his surprise at her statement. What kind of man would send his young daughter half way around the world alone? He asked silently. Sending her to a strange new country with no one to protect or take care of her. To my way of thinking her father needs a lesson in being her father. Looking at Margaret he had to admire her poise. She's not afraid and seems sure of herself, Sean continued his thought.
"You still haven't told me your name lassie."
"I'm Margaret Rose Smyth," was the answer.
"Well you'll not be alone on this sailing. Me and my friend there will be your protectors, guides, and at your beck and call," Sean said with another bow. "But Margaret is too old and too big of a name for a wisp of a girl like yourself. I think I'll call you Rosie."
"It's a fine name and fits you well. It seems to me that you're facing your adventure with a rosy outlook." Sean paused and asked, "Are you sure it isn't a little of the Irish in you Rosie?"
Margaret, now Rosie, had learned to gauge and judge people very well. It was a talent that came in handy moving from household to household the way she'd been doing. She laughed at the young Irishman and judged him to be trustworthy.
As they were talking the line continued to move. The Purser and his assistants directed the steerage passengers to the fantail. The people bunched up on the side of the aft deck closest to the dock; trying to spot friends and family that had come down to see them off.
"Do you have anyone to wave goodbye to," Sean asked. Rosie shook her head. "Follow me my lass, we'll have the pick of the best spots in our cavern. Let the others wave at the dock; it won't matter because the ship is still leaving. We'll set ourselves up as lords and ladies we will."
Sean grabbed one of Rosie's suitcases, handed the other to his friend Jamie and led her to the hatch closest to the fantail. There was a passageway leading below decks. They continued to make their way down until they reach the birthing section of the cargo hold. Looking around Sean quickly picked out a spot and placed Rosie's bags at two corners of a square and his and Jamie's rucksacks on the other corners. Their "claim" was about 10 feet on a side.
"That should be enough room for a lady like yourself," Sean said to Rosie. "The facilities are right over there and the up passageway is just beyond. It's like having the finest stateroom on the ship. Don't you think Rosie?"
Sean looked over Rosie's shoulder for a few seconds. "Be right back milady," he said and hurried over to the down passageway.
Rosie watched as he walked over to an elderly woman who was looking around in a confused manner. Sean bowed and said a few words to the woman who smiled at the young Irishman. He picked up her bags and led her back to the staked out portion of the room.
"This is Mrs. Day-Lewis," he said to Rosie and Jamie. "She's traveling to meet her daughter in America. It's her first trip on the ocean and I thought she would make a good addition to our merry band." Sean turned to Mrs. Day-Lewis and completed the introductions. "This Margaret Rose Smyth, better known as Rosie and this is my friend and comrade Jamie O'Fallon."
The newly formed family began to sort out their belongings and pick spots to sleep. Sean and Jamie left but returned in about an hour. They carried several life jackets, two cots and six blankets with them. Rosie quickly ran to help them. Setting the load down, Sean and Jamie soon had the cots assembled. They also laid the life jackets down in two rows of four each and covered them with blankets.
"Ladies I give you your boudoir," Sean told them with a bow. "Not as fancy as a First Class stateroom but it beats sleeping on the deck."
"We even got pallets for Sean and me to sleep on," Jamie said. It was the first time he had spoken.
Sometime during the afternoon Mrs. Day-Lewis became Mum to Sean, Jamie, and Rosie. She had been fussing over the young people most of the morning. The name change just seemed to fit. Mum was the one that cooked the midday meal and directed the others on how to clean up. Mum was the one that secured two more life jackets to use as pillows. And that evening Mum was the one that insisted the young people take a bath as well as they could.
Just before lights out Mum patted Sean on the shoulder. "You picked a good spot Sean. We're close to the up passage to the deck so we get fresh air as long as the hatch is open. You've got us close to the bathrooms and we don't have far to go or have to wait in line very much." Mum smiled and ruffled Sean's and then Jamie's hair. "I won't mention how you found beds for us, you Irish rascals."
"No Mum I think the less said about the sleeping equipment the better," Sean replied with a big grin. "But if you see a redheaded Purser's assistant looking for someone, give me a warning will ya?"
The Empress of India was making good time through calm seas. She had three masts that held very large sails which drove her through the waves at a good clip. The Empress also had two engines which turned two large propellers. With both means of propulsion working together the Empress would make port in New York in ten to eleven days. It was fast time for a ship of her size.
The second night at sea Sean was awakened by the sounds of a scuffle and a muted shout. He sat up and saw a man struggling with Rosie. It was obviously a thief as he held one of the girl's suitcases in one hand. He was standing behind Rosie with his arm around her and his other hand over her mouth. As Sean jumped up yelling, the man screamed and pulled his hand to his chest. Rosie had bitten him.
He dropped the case and turned to run but Sean caught him and began to beat on the thief. The cursing of the thief and the yelling as Jamie joined the fight woke some of the "neighbors and they added their voices to the din. The young men soon had the ruffian on his stomach. Jamie had to stop Mum from administering more punishment as the man lay on the deck.
Hearing the noise the night watch ran into the hold and quickly took the thief into custody. Mum dealt with the sailor and explained the situation. "You'll spend the rest of the trip in the brig," the sailor said as he hustled the man out of the hold.
"Ye best not be letting him out either," Sean yelled at the retreating men. "If I see ya again boyo, I'll likely throw you to the fishes."
The rest of the voyage was routine except for a 24 hour period when the Empress fought her way through a small storm. It wasn't a severe storm but the rolling of the ship caused sea sickness in many of the passengers huddled in the hold. Several of them voided their stomachs which led to others doing the same which led to ever more following suit. The noise made by the sick ones and the odor in the hold was intense.
Mum had been on the fantail as the storm approached from several miles away. She swiftly cooked up a brew and took it below to her adopted family. "Drink this," she ordered handing her charges cups of liquid. "It will keep you from becoming sea sick."
"What's in it?" Sean asked as he cautiously smelled the contents of his cup.
"Never you mind what's in it Sean," Mum replied. "But all of you drink it down. I don't want you to suffer the way some of these people are," she said pointing to the others in the hold. Whatever was in the concoction, it worked. Neither Rosie, Sean, Jamie or Mum became sea sick. They were able to help some of the more unfortunate passengers.
After the storm had passed Rosie asked, "Mum where did you learn to make that, well let's call it a tea? You said you'd never sailed before."
"My daughter, Bessie, wrote me about her boat trip. A lady in the cabin next to hers made the brew for her and her children. So Bessie sent me the recipe when we knew I was going to join her."
"Well thank your darling Bessie for us when you see her please," Sean said. "Without her 'tea' we would have been in a bad way."
It was the morning of the eleventh day when the Empress of India sailed into New York harbor. The newly formed "family" had no more problems during the voyage. Now they stood on the aft deck watching the Statue of Liberty glide by.
"There is the finest lady in the land," Sean said staring at the Lady Liberty. He had tears in his eyes.
As they were docking at the pier Sean asked, "Where's your Bessie live Mum."
"Bessie lives right here in New York," Mum answered. "She and her husband will be on the pier to meet me and help me through the business of entering this wonderful new country. How about you and Jamie? Where are you headed?"
"I have a friend in San Antonio Texas that is sponsoring Jamie and me. He has arranged work for us with the stockyards there. Texas is where the cowboys come from you know." Sean laughed. Maybe we'll become cowboys or even cattle barons."
Sean turned to Rosie. "And where are you headed my fine lass?"
"My Aunt lives in a city called Peoria. From what I'm told that's in Illinois," Rosie answered. "Once I get through the lines here I'll have to take a train to Chicago and another from there to Peoria."
Sean took Rosie's hand and kissed it like a gentleman would. "Rosie, my darling, it's been a pleasure knowing you. May St. Patrick guard you wherever you go and guide you in whatever you do. And may his loving protections be a blessing to you always."
"May God hold you three in the palm of his hand Rosie Smyth and Sean Riley and Jamie O'Fallon," Mrs. Day-Lewis said. "It's time to say goodbye. They are letting us off the ship now."
The First and Second Class passengers had disembarked and now the passengers from steerage were allowed to leave the ship. The area around the gang plank was separated from the rest of the dock by a sturdy fence. There was a man standing on the pier directing the steerage passengers to their points of entry.
Those with family members waiting for them or with sponsors were directed to one end of the docking area. The rest of the passengers were directed to the opposite end and through a large gate in the fence. There ferries waited to take them to the processing center on Ellis Island.
At Ellis they were ushered into a large warehouse type of a building to begin the process of entering the United States. The group of over 300 people was directed to areas that had large letters in alphabetical order hanging from the ceiling. Following instructions given by men in uniform, the immigrants line up under the first letter of their last name.
"Name?" The officious looking man behind the counter asked in a bored voice.
"Rosie, I mean, Margaret Rose Smyth." She had become used to the name Sean had given her and had to switch back to thinking of herself as Margaret. It had taken Rosie over five hours to get to this point in the process. She had undergone a physical examination, another exam into her mental state and questioning about her destination within the United States. Letters from her aunt, her father, and from Reverend Jacobs back in England vouched that Rosie would have a home to go to.
The Immigration Officer looked up when he heard the young girl's voice. His face softened from the stern look it had held before. My Molly is about the same age as this one, he thought.
"Where is the rest of your family Miss Smyth?"
"I'm traveling alone sir," Rosie answered. "My father is in the Army and was posted to South Africa. So I came to America to live with my Aunt.
"What is your aunt's name? Is she here to meet you?" The officer's thoughts echoed those of Sean Riley's. What kind of father would send his daughter on this long voyage by herself, he asked silently.
"Mildred Rollins is my aunt, she lives in a city called Peoria in the Providence of Illinois," Rosie replied to the question. "My father told me to take a train to Chicago and then another one to Peoria. She will meet me at the train station."
The officer smiled and said, "That's the state of Illinois. We call them states over here." After checking her birth certificate and the letters in her possession he spent several minutes writing. When he finished he handed Rosie some official looking papers with a government seal stamped on them and several signatures.
"Those are your entry approval papers Miss Smyth. Keep them safe and don't lose them," he suggested. He turned and yelled over his shoulder at another officer. "Jim, cover for me will ya. I'm gonna take my lunch break."
"Sure thing Don."
"I'm Donald Kelly," the officer said as he came around the counter. "I have a daughter about your age. Why don't you come with me and I'll show you which ferry to take back to the city." Outside Donald walked Rosie to an area where ferries waited. "Take one of these across the harbor; there's no charge back to the city. It will let you off at Pier 39. From there take the Red Line trolley."
Don looked at Rosie to make sure she understood so far. "You'll need to go to Penn Station. Asked the conductor and he will show you where to transfer to the Penn Station trolley. At Penn Station ask any of the ticket clerks which train to take to Chicago. Understand Margaret?"
"Yes I do Mr. Kelly," Rosie answered. "Thank you for your help."
"Do you have money for the trolleys and a train ticket?"
"Yes sir." She pulled out her folded leather wallet and showed him her money. "My father gave me $50 in American money."
"Put that away girl," Don ordered looking around to see if anyone had noticed. He reached into his vest and pulled out a cloth bag with a drawstring that contained his smoking tobacco. Don emptied the tobacco on the ground, put a few coins into the bag, and pulled the string tight.
"The Red Line will cost 10 cents and another 5 cents for the transfer to the Penn line. I put that and a little more in the bag," Don said with a smile. "Keep your money on your person so pickpockets and thieves can't get to it.
He kneeled down to Rosie's level. "It's a brave lassie you are Margaret Rose. Good luck to ya." With that Don turned and went back to the processing center. Hope she makes it okay, he wished.
Rosie watched Kelly walk away for a few seconds and then turned and boarded the ferry that would take her to her new life.
Arriving at the dock back across the harbor Rosie showed her papers to a guard at the gate and entered New York City. There were a few carts along the walkway that sold food. She stopped at one and paid 10 cents for two meat filled pastries called knishes. Rosie walked as she ate. Those are very good, she thought as she finished the second one. Of course I was so hungry that almost anything would have tasted good.
Rosie saw a sign that read "Red Line Trolley" and stood under the sign waiting. Shortly a horse drawn trolley pulled to a stop in front of her. She boarded, paid the fare, and asked for a transfer as Mr. Kelly told her.
"Will you please tell me where to get off to catch the Penn Station trolley?" She asked the conductor.
"Now sure I will, young Miss," he replied. "Going on a train trip are you?"
"Yes sir. I have to go to Chicago and then on to Peoria to live with my Aunt."
"It's young you are for takin such a long trip on your own."
"Yes sir, but I have to do it." Rosie had a determined look in her eye.
"Well lass, just sit here in my place," the conductor said offering her his seat behind the driver. "I'll not let you miss your stop."
The conductor motioned for Rosie about 20 minutes later. "This is your stop Lass. Right over there," he pointed to a waiting area and sign in the middle of the street, "is where you take the Penn Station trolley. Just hand them that transfer as you board and it'll take you to your train as quick as you please."
"Thank you sir." Rosie waved goodbye and walked to the waiting area.
"Good luck to you Lass," the conductor said as she left. I'd not want to get in that one's way even though she's just a child, he thought as his trolley pulled away. She'd run over you like a runaway freight train is my thinking.
Rosie again asked for help from the conductor on the Penn Station trolley. He promised to make sure she got off at Penn Station. Riding the Red Line and now Penn Station trolley, Rosie couldn't believe the tall buildings and the number of people she saw on the streets. The city was all hustle and bustle like nothing she'd ever seen. Bristol had been all hurry and running around but it didn't have the tall buildings.
She was staring at a huge building with "Museum of Natural History" carved into the stone over the door. That's the biggest building I've ever seen, she said quietly to herself. There are others around here that are taller but that one covers a very large piece of ground. As she looked back into the trolley, two boys sat down in front of her.
"First time in the big city?" One of the boys asked and the other one giggled. The two boys were dressed in torn and dirty clothes. They had smudges of dirt on their faces and hands.
Rosie turned away and didn't look at them.
"What you got in those suitcases girly? Maybe something you'd like to share with us now."
"Leave me alone please," Rosie said.
One of the boys reached for her suitcase but before he could put his hands on it the conductor grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He grabbed the other boy's shirt front and forced them both to the door. Not waiting for the driver to slow down the conductor threw the two ruffians off the trolley. Rosie saw them tumbling and rolling along the ground for several yards.
"I hope they broke their bloody necks," Rosie's rescuer said. Turning to her he said, "They'll not bother you again Miss. Not on my trolley they won't.
The trolley soon began to slow down and finally stopped in front of another huge building. "Here's your stop young lady. Step lively now, we have a schedule to keep," the man said as he helped her with her suitcases.
"Thank you for helping me," Rosie said. The conductor tipped his hat, the trolley moved away and Rosie continued on her journey.
Rosie entered Penn Station and stopped inside the entryway. She had never seen such a big open space in her life. The processing center on Ellis Island had been big, she thought. But you could put that room and half of another one in the great room of the train station. After a few minutes staring she found signs showing the arrival and departures of the trains. She found the notation for the next train to Chicago.
Walking to a ticket window she asked, "How much is a ticket on the Chicago Limited leaving in one hour?"
"$10 dollars little Miss," the woman clerk replied.
Rosie nodded and left. She made her way to the restroom and in the privacy of a stall opened her clothes to extract the wallet from its hiding place under the waist of her bloomers, took out $12 and returned the wallet. Rosie buttoned her clothes and went back to the ticket window.
"The Chicago Limited please," she requested and handed the clerk $10. Receiving her ticket she asked, "Is there someplace I might get a bite to eat ma'am?"
"There are food carts and shops along the passageway to the tracks," the clerk answered.
Rosie decided to return to the restroom, clean up as best she could, and put on fresh clothes. She hadn't had a bath for two days and she'd had her clothes on since the previous night. Rosie washed herself and looked for something clean to wear.
Cleaner at least and feeling better she lugged her suitcases with her and went down the passageway toward the train platform. She saw a man selling freshly made sandwiches from a push cart. His sign proclaimed "New York's Finest Hoagies $1". Rosie thought it was a princely sum for some bread and filling until she watched him make one for a customer. The sandwich was of monstrous size. It was a small loaf of bread about 12 inches long sliced long ways and spilt open. It was filled with three different meats, two kinds of cheese, onions and peppers.
Rosie bought one of the "Hoagies" and sat on a nearby bench to eat it. She was only able to eat about a third of it and wrapped the rest in the waxed paper it had come in. Rosie put what would be two more meals in her night case and waited for the Chicago Limited to board.
About an hour later the conductor called for passengers to board the Limited. I'll "stake out" this seat, as Sean says, Rosie thought remembering her traveling companions of the ship. The two person bench type seat she chose was at the back of the car facing forward and by a window. Rosie placed her suitcases and night case against the wall below the window and sat next to them.
A short time later the conductor came through the cars taking tickets. "How far is it to Chicago sir?" Rosie asked as she handed him her ticket.
"Name's Sweeny young lady. It's close to 800 miles," he replied. "792 miles to be exact." Seeing the confused look on Rosie's face he asked, "You're British right? I can tell by your accent." Rosie nodded. "Then you use kilometers I guess. Let's see I've got some notes here in my book somewhere."
He leafed through a notebook he took from his coat pocket. "Ah, here we are. A kilometer is approximately 1 1/2 miles." Sweeny took a stub of a pencil, found a blank page and begin to calculate. "792 times 1 1/2 is..."
"1274 and a half kilometers," Rosie said.
Sweeny looked at the young girl. He finished his own hand written calculations. "That's exactly right, Miss," he said amazed that the young girl did the figuring in her head. "That's pretty good young lady," he said smiling. "If I need anything else figured out on this run, I'll come to you. What's your name?"
"Rosie Smyth," she answered. "If you don't mind another question, how long will it take. I have to get on another train to Peoria, Illinois."
"We'll arrive tomorrow afternoon at 1 PM, assuming we don't get held up along the way. Take us about 25 hours." Sweeny took the ticket from a couple across the aisle and turned back to Rosie. "The Limited will average 35 miles per hour, what with stops for coal, water, and picking up passengers and freight. In between stops we'll get up to 50 mph."
Rosie concentrated for a few seconds. "Average speed of 56 kilometers an hour. That's very fast."
"Not really," Sweeny said. "I made a nonstop run from New York to St. Louis on an express once where we average almost 60mph. Now that was a trip I tell you." Sweeny laughed at himself. "But you're not interested in that. We'll stop three times between here and Chicago and be at each stop about an hour. That'll give you and the other passengers a chance to stretch your legs, excuse me Rosie, your limbs and maybe use the facilities. But we'll have you in Chicago in plenty of time to catch your train. Never you worry about that."
He started toward the next car but turned back. "If you need anything Miss, just whistle and I'll come a running."
Rosie felt the train jerk, once and then again. The train started to move taking her on this leg of her journey. When she had boarded the Empress of India she had been sad and a little afraid. At the start of this part of her trek she was excited. Rosie looked forward to meeting her Aunt Mildred for the first time.
As the Chicago Limited made its way west through the city the height of the buildings decreased the farther they traveled from the heart of New York. Soon the train began to pass small towns, villages, and came to the farms. It was one great expanse of land stretching from horizon to horizon.
Once in the countryside she began to realize the expanse of the new country. To her the farms seem to be very large and the distance between towns was immense. The train slowed as it made its way over hills and mountains covered in trees and would speed up in the valleys in between.
It's 1274 kilometers to Chicago, she thought. I remember from school that Great Britain is only 550 kilometers from north to south; if you add in Scotland it's still less than a 1000 kilometers. This is a big country and I haven't seen half of it.
After leaving the city the Limited traveled passed farms and small towns and Rosie was almost awe struck.
"Sure is pretty country," Sweeny said stopping beside Rosie on his way to the front of the line of passenger cars.
"Yes sir. I can't believe how big it is," Rosie said.
Sweeny smiled at the young girl. "You act and talk older than 12 Miss Rosie. That's meant as a compliment."
"Thank you Mr. Sweeny. I guess I've had to grow up faster than other girls."
"Oh, why is that?" The conductor asked.
Rosie explained how she'd had to live with different relatives for the last 4 years while her father was serving in the Army. She told him about moving from one household to another and the infrequent visits from her father.
"Now I'm going to live with another relative. I hope it's the last move I have to make," Rosie finished.
"I hope so too," Sweeny said. "I'll say a prayer for you at church this Sunday." He hesitated for a second and then reached out and patted her on the shoulder. He cleared his throat and said, "It's back to work for me."
The train stopped just before sundown and took on coal, water, and passengers. Then with a great blowing of its steam whistle, the Limited headed west through the dark night. The train stopped once again just at dawn and then began the final run into Chicago.
"Makin the turn around the lake," Sweeny said. "I keep forgettin you're not from around here. That's Lake Michigan I'm talking about."
"One of the Great Lakes," Rosie replied. "We studied them in geography class.
"We'll be passing Lake Michigan on the north there but you'll get a better view as we get closer to Chicago," Sweeny told her. After a few seconds he asked, "So what do you think of America so far?"
"It's so big. Much bigger than England." Rosie looked out the window for several seconds. "And I like the weather, it's bright and sunny. Back home we have rain or mist about four days a week."
The train whistle made one long blast followed by two shorter ones. "Got to go back to work," Sweeny said. "Good luck to you Rosie." He turned and walked away. In a loud voice he called out, "Chicago, Chicago is the next stop."
The Limited huffed and puffed and shuddered to a stop at the Dearborn Station. A porter came to Rosie before the train had quit moving. "Mr. Sweeny sent me to help with your luggage Miss," he said. "Is this all your belongings?" At Rosie's nod he picked up her suitcases and said, "Follow me Miss."
He led Rosie out of the railcar and onto the platform. Pointing at the depot he said, "You can get your ticket for Peoria right in there."
Rosie knew she should tip the porter for helping her and reached for the drawstring bag of coins that Kelly had given her back in New York.
The porter held up his hand to stop her. "No need Miss. Mr. Sweeny took care of me." He bowed and walked away.
Rosie smiled and thought, I've been very lucky on this trip. First Sean, Jamie, and Mum on the ship and then Mr. Kelly in New York. And now Mr. Sweeny. If all the people in America are like them it will be a wonderful place to live. She picked up her suitcases and walked to the depot.
Rosie saw the ticket counter across the great hall of Dearborn Station. Using the same tactics that she had in Chicago she asked the price of a ticket to Peoria. Then she went to the restroom and got the money from her hidden wallet.
She returned to the ticket counter. "A ticket to Peoria please."
"Which train?" The ticket agent asked.
"I don't understand. What do you mean which train?"
"There's one leaving in 30 minutes that arrives in Peoria at 5 PM. Another train leaves at 4 that will get into Peoria at 8:30. Which one do you want?"
"The first one please," Rosie answered and paid for the ticket.
"Best hurry Miss. The Peoria Express is already boarding and they'll leave as soon as possible." As Rosie hurried to the boarding platform the agent watched her go. "A very confident young lady that one is," he said. "Next," he called out.
Rosie boarded the train and barely had time to find an empty seat before she felt it jerk and start to move. Once again she put her belongings on the seat next to the window.
"Just in time aren't you? Ticket please."
Rosie looked up and saw the conductor smiling at her. "Yes sir." She handed him her ticket and when it was returned she turned to watch Chicago speed passed.
"First time riding with us Miss?"
"Yes sir. I'm from England and I'm going to meet my Aunt Mildred in Peoria."
"Well now, a visitor from across the Atlantic. Welcome to America. I'm Ted Collins, your conductor. If I can be of any help please call on me." Collins made sort of a half bow and continued through the passenger cars collecting tickets.