Hannah's Progeny

By Mary F. Twitty

Finally, Hannahs life has mellowed into a glorious golden hue. Her accomplishments for a better life for her children has trickled down to her great-grandchildren. She looks at them, and while Seamus is no longer at her side, these great-grands more than fi ll the empty void.

Smiling, she recalls the fi rst twelve years of happiness. The next ten were fraught with disappointments and betrayals, but when she steps foot on American soil, she blossoms and so does her family. Holding the large photograph, she caresses each face and then closes her eyes in absolute peace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479734207

Mary F. Twitty

Mary F. Twitty, an eighty-six-year-old widow, mother, and grandmother, has written eight novels since her first one was published in 2004. Six are historical fiction: Hannah's Journey; Selective Discretion, I, Jude; Hannah, The Journey Continues; and Hallelujah, What a Ride; and the newest historical fiction is Hannah's Progeny, one children’s book, Ashley Visits Urchin Village, and a novella, Hi, I'm Your Child. She is presently working on her ninth novel.

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Hannah’s Progeny

Mary F. Twitty

Copyright © 2012 by Mary F. Twitty.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgment

Chapter One: 1882

Chapter Two

Chapter Three: September 1882

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Three Months Later

Chapter Ten: 1884

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen: Five Weeks Later

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three: Ireland, January 1885

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty: The Move

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two: New Hampshire, 1902

Chapter Thirty-Three: October 1902

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five: 1893

Chapter Thirty-Six: Kevin Foley And Timothy Dugan

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight: 1954

Chapter Thirty-Nine: 1959

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

DEDICATION

To my little family, Eileen, Jerry and Ashley Brooks.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I wish to express my gratitude to my two writers groups for listening and critiquing this novel. Their input allowed this novel to be more focused.

I appreciate the editors at Xlibris for the wonderful patience and great assistance.

There are three other ladies, dear friends that took off their gloves and helped me to walk through the maze of grammar.

Thank you Harriet Amato, Susan Hjelte and Jane DeBoe. I am indebted.

Mary F. Twitty,

author of the

following books:

Hannah’s Journey;

Hannah, The Journey Continue;

Selective Discretion;

I’m Jude;

Hello, I’m Your Child;

Ashley Visits Urchin Village;

and Hallelujah, What a Ride.

They are available on Amazon.

CHAPTER ONE

1882

The sun peeking through the lace curtains woke Hannah. She stretched to relieve the pain in the back of both thighs before easing to the edge of her bed. Slowly she rose, walked to the bathroom, and sat heavily on her vanity stool. After catching her breath, she attended to her toiletries and dressed for the day. Hannah carefully descended the stairs. Louise, her maid, met her in the dining room. Good morning, Louise dear, did you sleep well?

Yes, thank ye for asking, Mrs. Hannigan. I prayed that the angels would watch over ye. I see they did, as ye came down the stairs without me help. I thank the Blessed Mother. She made the sign of the cross over her chest then pulled back the chair for Hannah. I made your favorite dishes, ye must eat, else you will waste away. She left and returned with one poached egg, one slice of bacon, a small dish of orange marmalade, a plate of scones, and a pot of tea.

At that moment, Eileen, Hannah’s daughter-in-law, entered the dining room.

Good morning, Eileen, come and share breakfast with me.

Eileen, as usual, was dressed in the latest fashion. As the editor of the women’s section of the Boston Herald, her appearance was scrutinized by her readers.

Just a cup of tea and perhaps one scone. I ate breakfast with Fergus and the twins. If I continue eating like this, I’ll soon be the shape of a football.

Eileen noticed Hannah lingering over breakfast and how little she had eaten. She gently chided her. You must eat more or you’ll become thin as a rail. I don’t need to eat another bite, but you’ve hardly eaten a thing. Must Bridget or I come every morning and eat breakfast with you?

I do seem to eat better when there is someone at the table with me. Well, I’ll take a wee more. Louise is such an excellent cook. I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, would I?

No, you wouldn’t. Now then, what are your plans for tomorrow?

The Altar Society’s meeting is tomorrow. Why?

Because I’m having lunch with some of the ladies from the National Woman Suffrage Association. We are planning a rally. I thought you might like to come. I’m pleased and excited about the progress we are making in obtaining equal rights for women.

Hannah shook her head. No no, I wouldn’t think of attending. I wouldn’t fit in. She began to fidget nervously with her lace collar. Her slender, slightly crooked, wrinkled fingers would not remain still.

Nonsense, countered Eileen. Didn’t you tell me how you blazed a trail beginning in Ireland and ending here in Boston? How you made lace to earn the fare for you and your family to leave Ireland? You did it during a time when the Irish had no rights at all. Then upon arriving in Boston you started your own laundry business and a good number of women are in your employ. To the contrary, you will fit in nicely. She took Hannah’s hand and cupped it in both of hers.

Hannah acknowledged with a nod. What you have said is true, but it was a necessity, not a ‘movement.’ I wanted a better life for my family.

I understand, Hannah, but just think of the many women who will be motivated by your story.

Hannah pressed her hand to her chest with a look of astonishment. Wait a minute, Eileen; I thought you were inviting me to a luncheon, not to be a participant. Please do not suggest anything like that again. The thought of it overwhelms me.

No. I was only reminding you that you are a pioneer and must continue to motivate your family and those who know you. Eileen smiled and reassuringly patted Hannah’s hands.

Very well, since you put it that way, I am relieved.

Are you saying you will come with me?

I’m thinking perhaps it might be interesting. Why you are involved with this association eludes me. I should think your husband Fergus, the twins, a household of servants, and your editorial position would be enough for you.

Yes, I do admit my time is well occupied. However, I want to make certain women will live in a more fair and equitable environment. Women shouldn’t have to ask their husbands or another male’s permission about their affairs, but be free to make their own decisions. Women must have all rights and privileges our Constitution provides.

True, true. How many times have I heard you expound on that topic. With a deep sigh, she asked, What time should I expect you?

About noon. I am so pleased you have agreed to attend. I must go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. She quickly kissed Hannah goodbye.

Hannah was content as she stood in her foyer watching Eileen settle herself in her buggy. She thought about Eileen and how fortunate she was to have her as a daughter-in-law. She is a beautiful and talented woman. My son is blessed to have her and their darling twins.

The following day, when Eileen and Bridget arrived, Hannah was pleased to see her dearest and closest friend Noreen waiting in the buggy. Eileen explained as she assisted Hannah into her buggy, Mama is not coming, they are in Ireland. Papa is seeking information about his family.

Hannah had no desire to search for her roots; she knew more than enough. Her grandmum and mum were women of questionable occupations.

Hello, Mama, Bridget greeted Hannah. I’m sitting with you and Noreen. We didn’t want the two of you to be uncomfortable at your first luncheon.

How thoughtful of you both. Well, I’m ready. Shall we go?

Immediately after lunch the meeting began. Eileen stood at the lectern. Ladies, I am pleased to announce that Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton has accepted our invitation to be the guest speaker for our rally on the fifteenth of July at Faneuil Hall.

There was an eruptive rush of applause and shouts of approval from the audience. Bridget whispered, Mama, do you realize what a tribute this is? Just think of it. Mrs. Stanton is coming to Boston to speak before our chapter.

Our chapter? I knew you assisted Eileen, but I didn’t know you were a member. How long have you been one?

Just a few months. I had to wait until Anna was older. That was my sweet husband Padric’s only stipulation.

Well, that’s nice. I’ve read a little about Mrs. Stanton and Mrs. Susan B. Anthony. They are exceptionally courageous ladies. I understand this association has been going on a long time, but I’ve been too busy to even take an interest.

I know, Mama. But now you can attend our meetings. You will hear and learn what mistreatments the women in America endure. Bridget then turned her attention to the head table.

With a slight frown, Hannah thought, Mistreatment? What mistreatment? In Ireland we were mistreated, but not here. You can make your own way. What is she talking about?

That night as Hannah prepared for bed, she began to think about the association. Troubled, she picked up her hairbrush and mentally began speaking to her late husband. You know, Seamus, I have never run away from a problem if I thought it was justified and true. But I’m not too certain if I wish to get up in this one. I appreciate Eileen and Bridget’s involvement, but why in the world do I need to join? What have I to complain about?

Hannah continued to prepare herself for bed. After becoming comfortable, she again picked up her conversation with Seamus. It seems they think we should have the right to vote, to work out of our homes, to handle our own property and finances. I’ve done every one of them except vote. I did work outside of our home and have my own business. As far as voting is concerned, you and I discussed what or who would be best. I never concerned myself about actually casting a ballot. I always had my own money. So do I wish to become involved? I remember reading that at some of the association’s meetings men threw things at them, telling them to stay out of their bedrooms. Bedrooms indeed!

Resolving nothing, she drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER TWO

The following week, Hannah attended the next meeting. Assignments were given, and there was much fanfare about seating arrangements on the dais and who would speak first and what each should say. They finally decided who would be Mrs. Stanton’s hostess during her visit. Hannah reflected on how simple her Altar Society handled such matters. This by comparison seemed petty and picayune. The president always escorted the speaker, and the vice president assigned tasks for each lady. It was all quite simple and dignified.

After several additional meetings, the day for Mrs. Stanton to speak arrived. Hannah, Noreen, and Bridget went to the front of the hall and took center aisle seats.

Hannah, this is my first rally. I’m a bit nervous, whispered Noreen.

I really don’t understand why you should feel that way when we both have been in the presence of our beloved pope and had dinners with two United States presidents and other dignitaries.

True, but this is not the same. People’s attitudes are divided about their demands and defiance. I do applaud our children fighting for equal rights for our granddaughters.

True, Noreen, true… , her words trailed off as her attention was drawn to the stage as she watched the women enter and walk along the neat row of chairs to their seats. Two chairs directly behind the lectern were unoccupied. A few moments later, a great eruption of applause greeted Eileen and Mrs. Stanton when they entered. The ladies rose to their feet.

Hannah joined the audience and enthusiastically as they laughed and applauded for Mrs. Stanton.

Straightening her suit dress, Eileen extended her hand to quiet the audience. Ladies, she began, it gives me great pleasure and is an honor to introduce our guest speaker. She looked toward Mrs. Stanton. From the wonderful reception you just displayed, she needs no introduction, therefore, Mrs. Stanton, the lectern is yours.

Rising to her feet and giving Eileen a magnificent smile then nodding to the audience, she said, Thank you, Mrs. Hannigan and distinguished ladies on the dais, and well, may I add, the ladies in the audience. You don’t know how it swells my heart to hear your wonderful applause and it is with great pleasure that I stand before you today. Did you know it was approximately thirty-four years ago when I spoke at the Seneca Falls Convention?

During this time, Hannah was thinking, She’s not as tall as I had thought, and rather plump. Look at her hair—it is unbelievably curly, almost like small sausages. That reminds me of my darling husband, Seamus. I guess if he had been a girl, his hair would have looked like that. But she does have a pleasant smile and have birthed seven children. My, my.

I said thirty-four years ago and I say now, we met and are meeting to discuss our rights and wrongs, civil and political… not social life alone… We are assembled to protest a form of government existing without the consent of the governed, to declare our right to be free as man is free to be represented in the government, which we are taxed to support. To have such disgraceful laws as to give man the power to chastise and imprison his wife, to take wages she earns, the property which she inherits, and in case of separation, the children of her love; laws which make her the mere dependent on his bounty.

Deep and sustained groans arose among the ladies.

Mrs. Stanton looked at the audience and sipped a little water before continuing. "Regrettably, we are now living in 1882 and these laws have yet to be changed. In 1878, Mrs. Gage and I authored the Declaration of Rights of the Women of the United States, which was presented in Washington, the District of Columbia, at the centennial celebration. But it came to naught. All white men in America have the same right. However they may differ in mind, body, and estate, . . . the right is ours. Have it, we must. Use it, we will. The pens, the tongues, the fortunes, the indomitable wills of many women are already pledged to secure this right…"

The ladies rose to their feet and began to chant, This right is ours, this right is ours. Soon they were marching around the hall.

Eileen returned to the lectern and struck the gavel, seeking order. Ladies, please return to your seats. Quietly and slowly they obeyed. Slightly turning red from embarrassment, Eileen walked stiffly back to her seat.

With order restored, Mrs. Stanton, deeply moved and pleased by the ladies’ expressions of approval, continued. I understand your enthusiasm, but you must do more than march. We must work together to get our government to change some of their wicked laws. It is the wise mother who raises the wise son. You can’t have scholars and saints so long as our mothers are ground to powder between the upper and nether millstone of tyranny and lust.

My heavens above, she is very theatrical and emotional, isn’t she? reacted Hannah while clapping along with the others. She looked at Noreen and saw her face enraptured with a glow she had not seen in quite a while. What do you say?

Aye, aye, was her only reply. She too was on her feet applauding with the energy of a much younger woman.

Hannah whispered to Noreen, Have you ever been in the company of women who have acted the way they just did? They were so involved… they forgot themselves. I’m standing and clapping as well. She chuckled while returning to her seat.

Yes. Their marching reminded me of the folks back in Ireland protesting, but what did it get them? Trouble! Those British had their hands around our throats, replied Noreen.

Yes, many were cruel, but some were nice, like my wonderful Mother Rose.

Aye, of course, not all.

They returned their attention to the speaker. She was pacing, her footsteps marching to the beat of her ire. "We do not expect that our path will be strewn with the flowers of popular applause, but over the thorns of bigotry and prejudice will be our way… On