Mollie
by Mary Frances Bayles
All rights reserved by Denlinger's Publishers, including the right to reproduce this electronic book, or portions thereof, in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
The Mayor and City Council of San Diego, The Board of Library Commissioners and The San Diego Public Library invited the author to its 35th Annual Local Authors Exhibit, January 27, 2001, and accepted a copy of Mollie as a contribution to their collection.
Ms. Bayles was awarded the bronze metal for her achievements.
In memory of Dr. Lynn Luria-Sukenick, Professor of Creative Writing at San Diego State University, who encouraged me to write this book.
My deepest appreciation to Carl Fielden, Director of the D.S.S. Computer Lab at S.D.S.U., and especially to Sev Reyes, Instructional Assistant. I also wish to thank the wonderful student assistants, who helped me in writing this work.
This title was nominated for the Frankfurt eBook Awards.
A historical romance of young Mollie and Ed. It portrays the Irish Famine Refugees, as pioneers in the West Virginia wilderness and their courage, perseverance and success. This novel has humor, adventure and pathos.
Mollie was born at Swamp Run in the new state of West Virginia in 1873. Her Mother had been the former Bridget King from the nearby Irish Settlement of Kingsville. Bridget's parents had fled the famine in Ireland in 1850 and settled in Baltimore with other Irish immigrants from Galway, Ireland. They soon learned they could obtain land for five cents an acre in the forest wilderness of western Virginia, in an area where three counties met,- Randolph, Upshur, and Barbour. They saved every cent and in a short time seventy families moved to this area. They had to clear the land, build log houses, obtain livestock etc to get started. They were true pioneers.
The new Irish settlement soon became known as Kingsville, as there were many families by the name of King, by far more than the other Irish names.
They soon built a log Catholic Church, St. Vincent's, with a new Irish Pastor, Father Fitzpatrick. It was here after Mass, one Sunday, that James O'Connor, a friend of Peter Cain's from Baltimore, inquired of Peter:
"Who is that lovely girl in that pretty dress with the green sash?"
"Oh, that's Patrick King's daughter, Bridget. We can ride over to her Father's farm on a pretense of seeing him and that way you can meet Bridget."
James had learned the stone mason trade in Baltimore and wanted Bridget to come there, but she loved the country and didn't want the city. Her will prevailed and James bought a farm at Swamp Run on the banks of the Middle Fork River and built a log cabin and here Mollie was born.
She was christened, Mary Ellen (In Galway the first daughter was traditionally called her first name, Mary, after the Mother of Jesus) Bridget's Mother was also a Mary and the Mother of James had been Ellen. It was her Father, James, who called her Mollie and that name stuck. He adored his little girl and she followed him everywhere. He adjusted to farm life and grew to love it and they were happy, however he contracted tuberculosis and died when Mollie was only three.
The young widow, aged twenty, could not work the farm alone, so they left the farm in Upshur County and were invited back to her Father's home in Barbour County, only a few miles away. Mollie had fun on the farm playing with her little cousins who came often, playing with the farm animals, gathering eggs and had a duck egg each morning for breakfast. At age six , Mollie went with her cousin, Mike King, to a one room log school taught by a Mr. Poe, the schoolmaster. They had no desks but sat on long benches. The teacher would draw a circle where you were supposed to sit, and you dare not wiggle out of it or you might get a whack from the long whip on the teachers desk, which served more as a threat than actual punishment. They had a few books such as Mc Guffy's Readers, which taught moral lessons and Speller's and Arithmetic books. They had no pencil or paper but wrote on slates with slate pencils.
Bridget found that James had saved quite a bit of money for that era, from when he had been a stone mason in Baltimore. After his debts and funeral were paid for, besides the 100 acre farm and log house and barn, he also had left $8000. in a savings account in a Buckhannon bank. This was a small town close by and the County Seat of Upshur County. The poor Irish farmers thought this a fortune and considered Bridget a rich widow.
When Mollie was eight, Bridget and Mollie moved to Buckhannon, where she bought a small frame store building, with two rooms for living quarters in the back. She was very skilled at cooking and baking and opened a home bakery. With her friendly Irish ways and wit she was quite successful and in a year's time, went to Clarksburg to hire a German baker. He would bake at night and she would be busy tending the bakeshop in the daytime. When the Irish farmers would come to town on Saturdays they would stop at her shop, where a cup of tea and cake would be served them in the back kitchen, and would always be given day old baked goods to bring home.
Mollie went to a new school with new friends, but she was the only Catholic in the school. School chums taunted her and said Catholics didn't read the Bible. Mollie knew her Father had read the Bible a lot, as her Mother had often told her, so she brought her Catholic Bible to school to prove her point.
More Catholics moved to Buckhannnon and they soon had a small church, St. Joseph's. Mollie got on well with her school friends as she was cheerful and congenial. When she finished grade school, her Mother announced she would go to High School and all the Irish friends scoffed at her and said, "What a waste for a girl, she will just get married and have no need of it."
Bridget had argued wisely: "If I should die and leave her a little money, that would soon disappear, but if I give her an education, that is something no one can ever take from her."
Mollie graduated from Buckhannon High School in 1890. She was now sixteen and a young lady. She did not look like her Mother or the Kings at all. Her Father was "black Irish," so called, because these Irish with large brown eyes and dark brown hair were thought to be descended from the survivors of the Spanish Armada, whose ships were blown off course and shipwrecked off Ireland's west coast during the reign of Elizabeth I, during a great naval battle between England and Spain in the sixteenth century. She was about five four with pale lovely skin and features and very expressive large brown eyes. She was also quite slender. She went for a year to a teacher's college or normal school, which was run by the Methodist Seminary(later West Virginia Wesleyan College). When her Mother discovered that after graduation, Mollie would be teaching in a one room country school, some distance from home and boarding with a farmer's family, a member of the school board, she was dismayed. When she found out she would only be paid a dollar a day plus free board and room, Bridget had a real Irish fit. She discouraged Mollie from teaching and asked her to go and stay with her Aunt Margaret in Columbus, Ohio and study millinery, as one of her cousins had done. Bridget by now had experienced some business sense and knew how difficult it would be for a single woman to survive, when opportunities for a successful career were very limited. Mollie agreed and studied millinery for a year and came back home and told Bridget to close the bakery, that she would open a hat shop in the building and that she wanted to be the business woman from then on.
About this time some of her Kingsville cousins were moving to Pittsburgh, where a brother had been successful and urged his Father and Sisters to join him. Mollie went over to help the girls clean and pack. They had to have a covered wagon to haul themselves and their trunks to Belington, the nearest railroad station connecting to trains for Pittsburgh. The wagon and driver's services were supplied by a young schoolteacher, who was a cousin on their Mother's side. His name was Ed Durkin and he was about six feet tall and rather slender with large blue eyes and wavy brown hair and handsome features. He helped to lift the heavy trunks and boxes onto the wagon and they were glad the wagon had a canvas cover overhead on this hot summer day. It was about ten miles to Belington and though they left in early morning, it was nearly noon when they arrived to catch the train.
There were tearful goodbyes as they knew it might be sometime, till they met again. The 135 miles to Pittsburgh was a far distance back then.
This was the first time Ed and Mollie had met. They were actually not related, but had mutual relatives in Uncle Ned, Rose and Bea King who were going to Pennsylvania to join brother, Con.
They both felt sad. Mollie was weeping.
"I don't know why Con talked them into going to Pittsburgh." she said, "we always had such fun together. I'm going to miss them terribly. They won't know anyone there and it will be just awful. I'm like my Mother; I love the country and small country towns; no big cities for me. I lived in Columbus for a year. They were so good to me, but I like West Virginia and home."
Ed helped her up into the wagon seat and they started for Kingsville. He told her some funny yarns about his school children and about his family. He came from a big family and two of his sisters were also teachers. Mollie wanted to go to her Aunt Ann's, but they passed by the farm and homestead of the recently departed cousins and she began weeping again.
"Don't cry, Mollie, it's not like you'll never see them again. They'll be back for visits and you can write letters and soon they'll come back again. Say, do you know why they call this area here "Pumpkintown"? Years ago a farmer planted pumpkin seeds on his side of a fence and the vine grew and went over his fence to his neighbor's field and the neighbor picked a large crop of pumpkins from the vine. Anyway they had a dispute and took it to court. I don't know what was decided, but that's how it got the name Pumpkintown. You know the Fourth of July is next week. I hope you're coming to the big picnic we always have up near the church. They'll have square dancing and fried chicken and ham and cakes. They have some great fiddler's for the dancing."
"Oh, I'll come for sure. I was in Columbus last July, and if you think it's hot here, you should go there. Their days are scorchers."
As they rounded the bend in the road, Aunt Ann's weather beaten house came into sight. If it had ever been painted when new, you'd never know it now. It was just gray from the weather.
Ed got out and opened the gate and drove the team into the field by the house. Aunt Ann came out to greet them and said she had a nice supper with ham and biscuits and fresh vegetables. These people were content with life's necessities and never thought of new furniture or painted houses. They were content with a roof, food, good health and good friends, which are life's real treasures.
The Fourth of July picnic came soon enough. Folks came in wagons early in the morning . The large wooden dance platform was swept and scrubbed, Tables were set up by using saw horses with long planks on top. Mostly they were serving tables. No one sat to eat except the very old and disabled. The younger people took their plates and found a place to sit on the ground or ate standing, They brought barrels of smoked ham and some men were busy slicing it. They had barrels of fried chicken cooked the previous day. Someone had built a campfire to heat hot water and make coffee. People brought dozens of cakes and pies and cookies. There were huge pots of baked beans. They also cooked huge iron skillets of fried potatoes. Everyone had a job to do and they were very busy. They raffled off several handmade crazy quilts, made from clothing scraps and some fine woolen blankets from their own sheep wool, which the women had spun into yarn on their spinning wheels and woven on their looms. The place was buzzing with activity. People were meeting who hadn't seen each other since last summer and the mood was happy and electrifying. Some shook hands heartily, while others embraced. By ten-thirty it was quite crowded as the women would start serving the great lunch by eleven. Lots of young men and women had gathered and were talking and laughing. Martie Dolan was there and he the Father of twelve daughters. When he saw a group of young men gathered together, he would always take the oldest of his young teen daughters over to the group and introduce her:
"B'ys," he would say," I want ye to meet me daughter, Mary Ann, she's a lovely strong gerrul, pretty, too, and she can cook and change a diaper on a baby,- quicker than her Mother." Everyone laughed at him, but the poor man had his hands full with all those lassies.
Mollie had stayed overnight at Aunt Ann's and Uncle Pat's and came in the wagon with all their gang,- Patsy, Mike, Matt, Owen, John, Joe, Mary Ann, Kate and Delia. She ran to see her old Friend , Annie Connelly, who had married Jim Cain, and her new baby girl , Mary. Annie said they were living in the new town of Elkins and they had opened their own business, a General Store. She also saw the Mike King Family from Mabie, Addie, Kathleen, Lillian(Annie had married Ben Fallon and lived in Buckhannon) also Eugene, Joe, and Will and Walter. As Mollie was making the rounds, someone behind her put their hands over her eyes. It was Ed Durkin. She was glad to see him and he asked to buy her lunch and would she eat with him, so she did. After they had eaten, they heard the fiddlers tuning up. They were the Stanton boys, who were very talented. Two of them played the fiddle and one the mandolin and Mike Nee played the concertina. The caller was John Bodkin and he was recruiting dancers. He called out that they had the large new platform and could have eight more sets on the platform. A set consisted of a group of four couples, standing in a ring. The musicians played a little medley of square dance tunes, such as Old Dan Tucker, Little Brown Jug, Turkey In the Straw, while John was calling out:
"One more couple here, one more couple. Now start a new set. Come on folks. You know you can't resist these toe tapping tunes. Let's have fun and all dance. One more couple here, one more couple. That's the way. Okay now the platform's full. Ready. Let the music begin. Everybody promenade; then grand right and left and aleman left and do-see-doe with your partner with your partner doe -see-doe then doe -see-doe with your corner, with your corner doe-swing your partner and aleman left and grand right and left and all promenade, -hooray -hooray go back the other way- hooray hooray you're going the wrong way-swing your partner and all promenade!"
As the last set had assembled on the platform, Mollie and Ed had joined in the dance as John began singing out the calls. At the end of the dance they were happy, red faced , breathless and laughing their heads off, as were the others; everyone was having a great time. The elderly amongst them were seated on some straight chairs, rockers and benches and many of the men and women were smoking their clay pipes and reminiscing about Ireland and thanking God for their farms and all the good things that had come to them in West Virginia.
In summer, when the roads were dry, Mollie would sometimes close her hat shop early and she and her Mother, Bridget would hitch up their horse and buggy and drive over to Kingsville to Aunt Ann's on Saturday evening. They always had good times with Aunt Ann, Uncle Pat and their big family. They played cards sang songs and had fun talking.
At Mass on Sunday, Father Fitzpatrick thanked all the people for all their hard work in making the 4th of July picnic a big success both financially and socially, however he emphasized the fact that this would not eliminate his Sunday roll call, wherein he would call out each man's name (head of family)and each would come up to him in view of the congregation and was expected to give what he could afford to maintain the church. The minimum offering was to be at least a quarter, which they were to drop into a basket. One poor soul who had an immense family would sometimes come up and turn his pants pockets wrong side out for all to see and say;"Father, I have no money." and go back to his pew. Father would say in jest"I'll get your farm yet".
There was a sad side to their new life. Many died with tuberculosis. Pneumonia took its toll in those days among people of all ages. Their were a few fatal accidents. Typhoid fever was around then. There were no Doctors out in the country and their cures were due to their prayers and home remedies. Most of the children were delivered by Grandmother's or midwives. Sometimes whole families were wiped out with T.B., so the cemetery was filling up. It was next to the Church. Some lived to be old and their old hearts wore out. Mollie's Grandmother, Mary O'Toole King would often sit in her rocker and smoke her pipe and weep about leaving Ireland as they had been better of than many, though not wealthy, and owned and operated a small Inn in Galway City in County Galway, Ireland. "I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen", an Irish song, always reminded Mollie of her Grandmother King.
Ed's Family owned a farm at Monroe, which was down in the Middle Fork Valley and a few miles from Uncle Pat King's. He helped on their farm in summer, getting in the hay and doing the many chores there. He had been quite charmed with Mollie and began to write letters to Buckhannon and decided to address her in the letters as "Dear Miss Mollie" at first, as he did not want to appear too bold. In the evening he would write by lamplight and put the letter in the mailbox by the front yard fence, where Mike Nee, the mail carrier would come by in the morning on horseback and put it in his saddlebag. Sometimes he left Mike a note with money for stamps. The postage was a two cent stamp for a letter and a one cent stamp for a postcard. If you wished to mail a package you had to send someone on horseback or with a wagon to the post office at Lantz.
Lantz was right on the river shore. The Middlefork was not wide, perhaps a hundred feet across. The water was so clear and was bordered by many large rocks on the shore and many large rocks jutting up above the water in the river, some were flat on top and rose above the stream, where you could sit or lie and sun yourself. You could always hear the sound of the water, rippling over the rocks and it was a beautiful sound. This mountain stream was not deep and you could wade across it in most places, unless it was at flood stage, which often occurred in the Spring when the snows melted and flowed down the mountain streams into the river. It was a narrow valley and there was level land on each riverbank for a road, a house and buildings and perhaps two or three level acres to farm, but then the land began to rise to form a mountain. These mountains were covered with maple trees, oak and evergreen trees. There was no fuel shortage as there was ample wood for the stove or fireplace. It was very beautiful there and always cool in the shade, even in summer. One lady, Annie Riley, measured the river depth every day and sent a report into Washington every month, for which she was paid a nominal fee by the government.
Late that September, the Harringtons hosted a Harvest Picnic at their farm, which was directly down the mountain from Uncle Pat's; it had been announced at Church, in fact was a church benefit, as the parishioners helped furnish the refreshments and each paid a quarter which went to the church. Mrs. Harrington scrubbed the children in a washtub in the kitchen. In the morning, women were busy making ham and chicken sandwiches on the big dining table; the men moved all the other first floor furniture into the yard.
Mollie had come to Aunt Ann's Friday evening and she and her cousins walked the mile down the mountain to help. There was a fairly steep road going down through the dense woodland. The trees were so numerous and in full foliage that you could scarcely see the September Sun peeping through the leaves. It was very shady and there were also numerous mountain shrubs, as wild azaleas of mostly deep pink and orange; rhododendron in full bloom and mountain laurel and wild ferns were ubiquitous as a ground cover along with a carpet of moss. The leafy canopy looked like exquisite dark lace with intricate patterns formed by the interlacing leaf patterns. They all picked some sassafras leaves as they had grown fond of chewing them since childhood and these low shrubs were dug up in the fall, to make sassafras tea from the roots, which was tasty and reputed to have some health values. The blackberries were also ripe and abundant in the woods, and the girls munched some of them on the way down. They mentioned that after the picnic was all over they would go berry picking and every household would be busy making jam and preserves and perhaps some blackberry wine. They talked about the boys they liked, about future house parties and other girl talk.
Eventually they reached the river, where several row boats were tied that belonged to Harringtons. They climbed into one and rowed across to the Upshur County Shore. The Harrington house was a short distance. The girls went into the dining room, where other women were busy making sandwiches and joined them or asked Mrs. Harrington how they could help. Soon people began bringing in cakes and pies . There were two old tables for cards on the back porch and straight chairs along the walls of the large rooms. The food was served from a long table in the dining room and the musicians were to stand or sit in one corner. The rest of the large first floor rooms (emptied of furniture) were quite spacious and together with the long wide porch were quite adequate and reserved for dancing. Most of the people had arrived by noon or before and were hungry and were served lunch. The dancing started around one with the same musicians as on the 4th" and John Bodkin calling for the square dance sets. Some sat on the edge of the porch and some on logs and stumps or on the grass.
The women were gossiping, spreading news of new births, illness, exchanging recipes, speaking of their children and so on. The old folks were smoking their clay pipes and complaining of their rheumatism and suggesting home remedies as liniments, poultices, novenas and other prayers.
The young folks, if not dancing were laughing, talking and flirting. Everyone was having a great time. Mollie was joining in the revelry and being her usual charming self, for she liked the center of the stage, and knew how to get it ; she fluttered her Japanese paper fan and her eyelashes, and sometimes hid her nose behind it as she coyly used her gaze to bewitch the young country swains, who seemed mesmerized by her. Two or three of them were gathered around her, like bees around a blossom, each trying to impress her by his wit or cleverness. She was eating it up and playing the siren to the limit. Some of the other girls were jealous of all the attention she attracted.
Mollie was having a great time, in being queen of the Irish picnic. They continued to hover around her for sometime, but around two, she begged to be excused as she must help her Mother serve the cakes, she had brought. The real reason for her departure from them was that she had spied Ed Durkin tying up his horse under a tree in the field. He had written her several letters and she wanted to rearrange her hair and powder her nose and make sure she looked her best, before she walked toward the field (very casually and unintentionally), she even dreamed up a story about losing a handbag and necklace in the field and as she walked toward him, feigned to be searching in the long grass, and acted very surprised and innocent when he approached her.
"Well, hello Mollie. What are you doing out here in the field. You should be dancing."
"Oh," she lied,"I just remembered I lost my handbag, and we walked in, this way. It's just a cheap one; nothing of value in it, just a handkerchief and a cheap necklace, but I've about given up. Maybe Tom will find it when he cuts this hay."
He gave her a friendly little hug and said:
"I'm starving. I hope they have food left."
"Oh, you know they have loads. A lot of folks will stay for supper or stay till late evening as it will be moonlight tonight."
As they walked toward the house, he thanked her for answering his letters and said he had been busy helping on his family's farm, up the river at Monroe and had ridden his horse over the bridge and come down on this side. He mentioned they would shortly be getting in their hay.
As they approached the house they met their host, Tom Harrington.
"Hello, Ed and Mollie; some great crowd here: come get some food and get to dancing with the others. By the way, next week or week after I want to butcher my hogs. They're so damn fat they can hardly walk and it's been too hot to butcher them; Ed, maybe you could come down here and give me a hand. Could you.?
I'd surely appreciate it."
"Oh, I'd be glad to."said Ed. " You just let me know."
"Thanks a lot, Ed, I'll let you know and I know I can count on you. You kids get up to the house and get plenty to eat and plenty of dancing."
They went up to the lunch table , where Ed filled his plate with sandwiches an fried chicken. Mollie wasn't hungry, but they both enjoyed some tea and a piece of cake. They took their plates out and sat on the edge of the porch and continued talking. If Mollie had used her wiles on the other boys, she went all out to impress Ed. They lingered talking, but finally joined the others in the square dance. They would dance until they were totally breathless, and then sit out a short while and talk. Before they knew it was supper time and they again filled their plates and had fun joking and laughing with the other young folks. The time passed swiftly, but around eight o'clock, Aunt Ann passed word around that she wanted Mollie and the girls to get ready to head up the mountain around ten. It had been a lovely Indian Summer evening and a full harvest moon as the Farmer's Almanac had predicted. Aunt Ann and Bridget rounded them all up at ten. Mollie and Ed had walked out toward the field where his horse was tied . They wished the evening would never end. One of the cousins called out;
"Hurry up, Mollie, we're all going down to the boats, we can't wait all night; come on now!"
"I'm coming" she called back, and to Ed,"I've got to go."
"Well, I'll write to you and I hope you'll answer. Maybe you'll let me come over to see you some week-end? I've sure enjoyed being with you."
"Mollieee!!, "called Kate,"Ma is getting mad! We can't wait all night, get over here this minute."
"Gotta go"said Mollie, "they'll kill me."
Ed grabbed her and gave her a big kiss goodbye and she ran through the moonlit field to join her cousins.
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