Mary Campbell A Molly Maguire Legend (eBook)

Susan Sweeney (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
200 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
9798317805500 (ISBN)

Infos

A powerful tale of love, justice, betrayal, and ultimate redemption set against the backdrop of America's tumultuous labor movement. In 1877, a group of Irish miners were arrested for strikes, sabotage, and murder. Twenty men, including tavern owner Alexander Campbell, were sentenced as a result of false testimony and jury tampering, aided by a hired Pinkerton agent. Follow along with Mary Campbell and her fight to prove her husband's innocence against a corrupt society intent on exploiting the working-class miners.

Susan Sweeney holds an M.A. in Professional Theater from New York University and pursued Victorian Studies at Oxford University, also spending a semester at Cork University in Ireland. With thirty-two years of experience as an English teacher specializing in British and Irish literature, she has cultivated a lifelong passion for storytelling rooted in history and culture. Susan's first novel, 'Molly Campbell A Molly Maguire Legend,' is inspired by the events of the real-life Molly Maguires and Susan's own personal connection to one of the novel's figures-James Sweeney. That bond has shaped a uniquely personal perspective on the world of the Molly Maguires and the turbulent history of Pennsylvania's coal region.

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In 1877, a group of Irish miners in Carbon County, Pennsylvania were arrested for strikes, sabotage, and murder. They were identified as the Molly Maguires. Twenty men, including tavern owner Alexander Campbell, were sentenced as a result of false testimony and jury tampering, aided by a hired Pinkerton agent. This is the story of Mary Campbell, and her fight to prove her husband's innocence against a corrupt society intent on exploiting the working-class miners. "e;Mary Campbell A Molly Maguire Legend"e; weaves together themes of justice, loyalty, love, and the struggle against oppression. Rich with detailed historical context and inspired by real-life events, this historical novel showcases the harsh realities of mining life and the power of the coal companies.

Textauszug

1873

“My dear parents, Patrick and Rose Breslin, were Irish immigrants
from Donegal. As children, they survived the famine and, like so many
others, sought a better life in America. Railroad agents lured men
into the mines with promises of work, but the Irish laborer toiled for
pennies. Alex fought to change that. And for it, he met his fate.”

THE MEN OF NO. 4

The sputtering light of oil lamps flickered against the jagged walls of the mine, casting ghostly shadows across the grimy faces of the miners toiling in its depths. The acrid air was thick with the sting of coal dust, and the steady drip of water from the rafters above marked time like a relentless clock, each drop a reminder of their hours spent in the depths of hell. Coughs punctuated the heavy silence, rasping and harsh, as pickaxes struck stone with dull, determined thuds.

Patrick, Mary’s father, a veteran of this work, paused mid-swing, his weary eyes narrowing at the sight of the lifeless canary in its cage. The bird, once a fragile sentinel of their safety, now lay still—a silent warning. His heart sank as he motioned to young Daniel Houlihan. Without a word, Patrick pointed toward the closed shaft nearby, its mouth sealed with rotting wooden timber.

Daniel didn’t need instructions. With quiet intensity, he moved to the shaft, his strong hands gripping the decaying boards. He tore at them with practiced efficiency, sweat beading on his brow as he worked, defying the ever-watchful gaze of the supervisor looming nearby.

“Leave it,” barked Peter Evans, his voice sharp and authoritative.

Daniel ignored him, the creak and splinter of wood echoing louder with each pull.

“You heard me, God damn it! That passage is to remain shut,” Evan growled, stepping closer. His eyes gleamed with warning.

Daniel, gripping his pickaxe tightly, squared his shoulders and turned, his posture daring the man to escalate. The tension between them pressed down, heavy as the earth around them, suffocating and unyielding.

“I’m not going to be telling you again,” the supervisor spat, his lips curling as he folded his arms across his chest.

Daniel held the pickaxe steady for a moment, his grip tightening as his jaw clenched. A heavy breath escaped him, thick with frustration. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

Evans, without a second thought, reached for his pistol.

Daniel swallowed hard. He knew where that would lead—dead.

With a slow exhale, he lowered the pickaxe to his side and turned back to his work, the fire in his eyes dimmed but not extinguished.

The other miners followed his lead, the rhythmic strike of their tools against the unforgiving rock filling the air once more. But the brief reprieve was shattered when a timber groaned ominously. Without warning, it buckled, sending an avalanche of stones cascading to the ground. A thick cloud of dust erupted, choking the air and extinguishing the lanterns in a rapid series of flickers.

Coughs and curses erupted from the men as they stumbled in the darkness, their voices strained with panic. The mule, tethered near the mouth of the shaft, brayed in terror, its eyes wide with fear. It reared and kicked, its hooves striking the ground in frantic rhythm as the stones rained down around it.

“Get the Goddamn mule out!” the supervisor shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. He grabbed his lantern and shook it roughly, its flame sputtering back to life.

James Kerrigan, a young miner, sprang into action, seizing the mule’s reins with unyielding force. He always acted first in the wake of danger—his thoughts came second. His strong, calloused hands tightened as he fought against the animal’s panic. The mule resisted, its body trembling, but Kerrigan’s firm tug and sharp command brought it under control. With one final pull, he steered the frightened beast away from the rubble. The mule’s hooves thundered through the shaft as Kerrigan kept pace, his powerful stride matching the animal’s frantic movements. It never occurred to him that he could have been killed.

Through the madness of the collapse, Patrick, Mary’s father, heard the young lad—Michael Doyle—moaning in pain. Amid the dust and falling timbers, he searched the rubble until he caught sight of the boy. Michael’s leg was trapped beneath a small pile of stones. Rushing to him, Patrick knelt down, brushing soot from the boy’s eyes.

“Easy now, son,” Patrick said, his voice low but steady.

With precision, Patrick began to move the stones. He knew the Doyle family well. The boy’s father was bedridden from the last mine explosion, and Michael, though only ten, carried the weight of the world on his small shoulders. As Patrick worked, the boy only whimpered, knowing that any outburst might lead to being dismissed from the mine—something he could not afford.

Daniel’s rage flared as he caught sight of the injured boy. He and the other miners squared off against the supervisor, their collective anger simmering just below the surface.

“Get the hell back to work!” Evans barked, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward, a sneer twisting his lips.

“It’s a shite hole!” Daniel shot back, his voice thick with contempt.

“And if you don’t like it, leave,” the supervisor snarled, his gaze sweeping over them, daring anyone to challenge him.

The miners remained motionless, their silence heavy with suppressed fury. They understood exactly what those words meant—unemployed. Others had tried to strike before, only to be left powerless, discarded like broken tools. They had been promised something better, but instead, they were handed this—endless days in the dark, toiling for a pittance.

“You Irish bastards. I thought as much.” the supervisor sneered. “Now, back to work! Reinforce the timbers. And load the damn hopper.

The men dispersed reluctantly, their footsteps heavy with resentment.

“And which one of you is going to replace the mule?” Evan’s lips curled into a smug smile. He taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

Daniel’s fists clenched at his sides. “I ought to—”

“You ought to… what?”

Two Yellow Dogs emerged from the dust, their silhouettes slinking toward the supervisor like obedient shadows. Hired guns who controlled the town, playing by their own rules.

Patrick’s hand shot out, gripping Daniel’s arm firmly. “It’s the boy’s leg,” he said, his voice steady but urgent. “He’ll be fine.”

Evan barely spared a glance before sneering. “You heard Patty. He’s fine. Get rid of the lad.”

Daniel knelt and gently scooped the boy into his arms. Michael gritted his teeth, his face pale, contorted with pain. He didn’t resist.

“And if you don’t want to lose a day’s wages,” Evan called after them, his tone laced with contempt, “you’ll be returning… real soon.”

Daniel said nothing as he carried the lad away, his steps careful but steadfast. Behind him, the oppressive air of the mine seemed to grow heavier, the shadows deepening as the faint sound of dripping water filled the void.

Having finally emerged from the mine’s entrance, Daniel paused. He squinted into the late evening sun, which hung low over the jagged ridges of the mountainous landscape. His eyes, unaccustomed to the brightness, fought to regain focus. There was no time to waste—he had to get moving, had to get the boy home.

He shifted his grip, instinctively drawing the boy closer, and began down the narrow path. Michael’s head lolled slightly, his body limp against Daniel’s chest. The boy wasn’t responding to his quiet murmurs anymore. His breathing had grown shallow, uneven. The lad needed medical assistance—fast. He was going into shock.

“God! He’s too young!”

And then, as if by some small miracle, his prayer was answered. The distant rumble of wagon wheels reached his ears. Daniel’s gaze lifted, relief flooding through him as he spotted Alex Campbell approaching, guiding his wagon with steady hands.

“Alex!” Daniel’s voice cracked, raw from dust and strain. “Help!”

Without waiting for a response, Daniel quickened his pace, his legs burning as he closed the distance.

Alex reined in his horse, taking in the sight before him. His eyes, hardened by years of toil, softened with concern as Daniel swiftly moved toward the wagon.

“Jesus, what happened, Danny?”

Daniel shifted the boy ever so slightly in his arms. “Timbers buckled,” he said, his voice tight. “The boy’s lucky—but he’ll need the doc.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ. Again?”

Without another word, Daniel eased Michael into the wagon. The boy whimpered faintly, his body trembling. Alex quickly shrugged...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 20.6.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9798317805500 / 9798317805500