Molly Maguires

I have a chapter I based on that. There was the movie in the 1970's with Sean Connery and Richard Harris. The Mollys started in Ireland, but this is the group based in the Pennsylvania coal fields. Remember these may be edited in the final book. I am just giving you a taste.

Chapter Nine: The Molly Maguires:

As stated before, Molly Maguires started as a group in Ireland to attack evil landlords. The Molly Maguires I am talking about here were Irish coal miners in Pennsylvania.

I set up extortion rackets to get Irishmen higher-level jobs and better working conditions. One mine superintendent an odious little man named Prichard contacted the authorities and opposed me. I took part in his killing. Prichard had a high-pitched Welsh accent and was very sure of himself. There were five of us. Two watched the door and two stayed with me while I spoke to Prichard.

“David Prichard, can you guess why we are here?”

“I can, you slovenly men. There is a reason Welshmen run Pennsylvania’s mines. We established them. You just do work in them. We know how to run them and run them properly we will. You should count yourselves lucky to even be allowed to work here!”

“Oh but what if we all went on strike,” I said with a smile.

“Shiploads of Irish land in Philadelphia regularly. You are always easy to replace. You are basically human mules.”

“Who is going to bring Irish from the ships here? My men in Philadelphia have been busy. I took a photograph out of a folder. It was the bullet riddled body of a bearded man. Ah Prichard, my lad, you must recognize the poor sod in this photograph, even riddled with bullets.”

For the first time, Prichard showed fear and sadness. “You killed my friend Davy Jones?” Your vile men did that?”

“They also did this,” I said and showed a photo of a man who was beaten.

“And that is Owen Bevan!” Prichard cried. “I still will not change my ways for you.”

“Last chance Prichard. Will you give in?”

“Never!”

“Right! Lads, do your worst!”

These miners were hard men before they began in the mines. I was giving them the chance to take their revenge on one of their many oppressors.

“Prichard, you can end this any time. Say the word and they will stop.”

“Never!” he cried through a split lip.

My men ended up beating him to death. I had to admire Prichard’s bravery as much as I hated him. We photographed his dead body with a lump of coal stuck in his mouth. The picture was reproduced and shown all over Pennsylvania. Alas, the Irish miners would not benefit in the end. It turned out an Irishman was a traitor and working for Pinkerton. I had already had nameless Pinkertons killed. This one survived though and infiltrated the organization. Arrests were imminent. The ones who avoided arrest remained loyal. Miners have to be loyal to one another to survive in the pits. My miners became my explosives and tunneling experts. They would come in handy in other matters. I realized I had to flee Pennsylvania at once. I took the train to Washington, to meet with my old friend Nathaniel Banks. He made it clear even with my superb government service it might be better if I heeded Horace Greeley’s advice to “Go West Young Man.”

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