Spirited Away –
A Novel of the Stolen Irish
Maggie Plummer
Copyright © 2012 Maggie Plummer
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
To all the people and organizations combating modern-day human trafficking
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my poetic Irish Catholic grandmother, Eleanor Brennan Plummer, for inspiring me to write this story. I would also like to thank those who helped me get this novel written. Among them are: my talented friend and colleague Mary Barmeyer O'Brien, who edited the manuscript and cheered me on; writers' group buddies Phyllis Walker and Milana Marsenich, who supported me with their wise, generous critiques; fellow writers Kathy Sager, Bob Marsenich, Gary Acevedo, and Julie Wenner, who encouraged me to keep going; and Cris Aguilar, who shared her infectious enthusiasm about electronic self-publishing. Last but not least, I want to thank: author Sean O'Callaghan, who wrote To Hell or Barbados: The ethnic cleansing of Ireland (Brandon, 2000); and author Padraic O'Farrell for his book, Irish Toasts, Curses and Blessings (Sterling Publishing Company, 1995).
PREFACE
A few years ago, I was reading about Irish history and stumbled across this information: During Oliver Cromwell's Reign of Terror in the 1650s, a majority of Ireland's Catholic population was either slaughtered, exiled to the west, or sold into slavery in the Caribbean. I did a triple-take, amazed. How could it be that I'd never heard of that? Others hadn't either. The more I read about Cromwell's Reign of Terror in books and Internet articles, the hotter my Irish-American blood boiled. These massacred, ousted, or enslaved people were my ancestors. I had to write something about this obscure yet pivotal period of Irish history.
That is how the novel's main character, Freddy O'Brennan, came to be. With the exception of Cromwell, all of the characters in the novel are fictional. The story, however, is based on historical accounts of events that took place.
In 1649 Cromwell led an invasion of Ireland that many historians call genocide, or ethnic cleansing. During the 1650s, Ireland lost about 41 percent of its population. The infamous Irish Famine of 1845 to 1852, by comparison, resulted in a loss of 16 percent of the population.
Cromwell hated Catholicism and wanted to punish Irish Catholics for the rebellion of 1641. Catholicism was banned. Priests were wanted men. Irish Catholics were murdered, thrown off their land, or "spirited away" to the Caribbean. An estimated 100,000 Irish people, mostly women and children, were sold to sugar plantation owners and literally worked to death. Some were flogged to death. They toiled long days and suffered horrific conditions, disease, starvation, and torture.
"The curse of Cromwell upon you" is still a popular Irish saying. To this day, Irish mothers threaten their misbehaving children with the ultimate punishment: "Cromwell's going to get you!" The bitterness caused by what took place during the 1650s has been a powerful source of Irish nationalism for more than 350 years.
Irish slavery was an atrocity that should not be forgotten. I find it outrageous that so few know about it. My hope is that this novel will help bring it to light.
CHAPTER 1
March 1653
Over the far rise they came at a full gallop, Freddy's black curls streaming behind her. She rode bareback, her wrinkled skirt tucked up between her legs and her hands resting on the horse's neck. Firewind, her handsome brown and white Gypsy Cob, flew along the hedgerow, his long white mane rippling. His leg feathers and silky tail floated in the spring air, as pure white as a morning mist. The powerful steed seemed to glide above the rolling green fields of County Kilkenny.
As she gripped Firewind with her knees and inhaled the scent of wet grass and new oak leaves, the sun went behind a cloud. The cream-colored flowers were thick on the blackthorn, among budding wild cherry bushes. Freddy's cheeks were rose-pink from the brisk wind. Suddenly a shiver ran through her. Mam had insisted she wear a dress this morning instead of the boys' clothes she preferred to wear for riding. Freddy was sure she'd have been warmer in Da's old breeches. It was time they headed homeward, though. The peat fire would warm her bones. Her mouth watered at the thought of Mam's fresh bread dipped into a steaming bowl of stew. After dinner she and Da would plant the barley. She loved working in the fields with her father.
Tall for thirteen, Freddy was bigger than her tiny mother. The girl was an exact reflection of her Da, Laurence O'Brennan. That's what Mam said. Not only did their eldest mirror his height and his wild black hair, she also had his wide green eyes, dark eyebrows, long nose, and – Mam liked to point out with a frown – his fiery temperament.
Across the verdant field she spotted a group of men walking down the lane. With a gasp, Freddy realized it was Da followed by four soldiers, their muskets pointed at his back. She pulled on Firewind's mane so he would stop. She would know Da's gait anywhere. That was him, all right, being marched away by military men. Cromwell's soldiers! She shivered again, this time with dread. Da had said they would not come until after harvest. The pungent sting of smoke hit her nostrils as she scanned the landscape. Beyond the row of distant trees, a column of ebony-colored smoke rose into the sky. The Kealy place!
The sun came back out. Freddy shaded her eyes and noticed a uniformed man standing with Mam in front of the cottage. Goose bumps ran up her arms.
"Run, Firewind!" Freddy kicked him lightly, and the strapping horse lurched into motion. They thundered down the hill and streaked across another field to the house. A thin curl of smoke floated lazily from one chimney. An English soldier towered over Mam, shaking his finger at her.
Freddy raced up to the yard. Three-year-old Cathleen and Ryanne, six, clung to their mother's legs, hiding in the folds of her patched work dress. Mam still held her broom with both hands, gripping it so hard her knuckles were as pale as her pinched face. Her hair was covered by her white work scarf. Eleven-year-old Aileen seemed frozen in place behind Mam. Standing there like that, she looked like a smaller version of Mam. Nessa was nowhere in sight. The military man leaned on his musket. His other hand rested on the handle of his sword, which hung in a scabbard from his belt.
In one swift motion, Freddy swung her leg over, yanked her skirt down, and jumped off Firewind. Leaving him to graze near the rock wall, she ran to Mam, who was backing away from the soldier. Freddy moved in front of her mother, breathing hard. She stared at the man.
"Where are they taking Da?" Freddy blurted, pointing to the lane.
"Hush!" Mam said, dropping the broom. She wrapped her arms around Freddy's waist from behind, holding her fast.
The soldier's face was shaded by a metal helmet, which sported a tall scarlet plume. He turned his head to the side and spit a tobacco-colored stream into the mud.
Mam tightened her hold on her daughter. "Let us not be keeping this soldier from his duties."
"But, wha—"
"I said hush now!"
Freddy could feel Mam trembling.
"Who might this one be?" The soldier removed his helmet and scratched his greasy-looking head.
"Our eldest." Mam leaned forward to press her cheek against Freddy's.
"And does your eldest have a name?" He put his helmet back on.
"Frederica," Mam replied in a tight voice.
He nodded and leaned in close, pointing his finger at them. Mam shrank away, pulling Freddy with her. “Ye’d best be gone when we return at dawn,” the soldier growled. He turned on his heel and marched off down the lane.
Firewind tossed his head and let out a sharp whinny.
Freddy exhaled and turned to face her mother. "Where are they taking Da?" she whispered, her voice catching in a sob.
"They said they'd spare us if he agreed to go fight in Spain, for the Crown." Mam covered her mouth, her blue eyes filling.
"But Da…" Freddy wilted.
"He goes for us, macushla," Mam said softly, easing her daughter's head onto her shoulder.
"Don't cry, Freddy!" Cathleen let go of Mam's legs and fiercely hugged her oldest sister's, then lifted her arms. Her face crumpled.
Freddy bent down to lift the wee one and hold her tight. "There, now, see? I'm all better." She balanced her on one hip and kissed her plump cheek. Rubbing the tip of her nose on Cathleen's, she ran her hand through the toddler's black curls, so very like her own.
Mam gazed toward the lane, wringing her hands. "The devil's plague on cursed Cromwell!" She hid her face in her hands and Freddy drew her into a one-armed embrace. Nine-year-old Nessa sprinted from the house and threw herself at Mam, sniffing. Aileen and Ryanne joined them in a huddle. Mam wrapped her arms around them all as best she could. The younger girls whimpered, and began wailing.
Mam shook herself, straightened her shoulders, and wiped at her eyes. "Come, my darlings, we must hurry. Those Englishmen will be back to do their worst. We must leave at once…"
"Where will we go?" Freddy asked breathlessly.
"Kate's. We're blessed to have her there, in the west. But first we must eat, quickly now, there is much to do…"
Aileen led the way inside, promising the younger girls slabs of warm bread with honey.
"Me, too!" Nessa whined, following them.
"Mmmm, it smells good," Freddy said, forcing herself to sound cheerful. "I am famished!" In truth, she was not sure she could eat. Her stomach felt strange. She cleared Mam's mending from the wooden table and placed it on a shelf in the dark corner. Two narrow, deep-silled windows provided shafts of sunlight that pierced the gloom. The white walls were plain, punctuated only by wooden shelves, a small cupboard, and Mam's rosary. Freddy glanced around the small room, wondering how much they could bring with them. Da had crafted the family's simple furnishings – two rocking chairs, the table, a straight-backed chair, and several stools. Freddy moved to the stone hearth. "Nessa, please bring the bowls."
Aileen quietly sliced the loaf of brown bread, piled thick slices on a plate, and carried it to the table. She slathered two slabs with honey and put them in front of Cathleen and Ryanne. Cathleen just sucked her thumb, her eyes huge. Ryanne picked hers up and took a small nibble. Freddy ladled mutton stew from the soot-blackened pot into wooden bowls, and Nessa carried them to the table.
Mam rushed in, carrying the wash. She put the basket on the dirt floor and took her wooden rosary from its peg. Closing her eyes, she kissed the crucifix and put the rosary over her head to wear like a necklace. "God and Jesus and Mary, keep us and guide us," she murmured, tucking the rosary inside her dress. She pulled off her work scarf and smoothed her brown hair back. Sitting in Da's place at the head of the table, she took Cathleen onto her lap and hugged Ryanne close. The others pulled their stools up.
"Let us say Grace and pray for Da's safety," Mam said. They all bowed their heads, folded their hands, and were silent. Mam was the first to pick up her spoon.
"Aunt Kate will be happy to see us," Aileen said, stirring her stew.
"She will, she will." Mam took a piece of bread from the plate. "Please pass the butter."
"We can help with her new babe," Freddy offered, noticing a deep crease between Mam's eyebrows.
"I'll help too!" Ryanne blurted.
Mam smiled at her. Her smile faded as she realized none of them had touched their food. "First, help by eating your dinner," she began. "Come, my girls, we must be strong for Da. He would tell you to eat as much as you can, for the journey."
"A journey to the west," Aileen said dreamily, dunking her bread into the steaming stew. "We'll pretend to be tinkers! We'll cook outdoors like them, and sleep under the stars!"
"I wanna be a tinker!" Cathleen hollered.
"Me too!" Ryanne put in, taking a big bite of bread.
"And me!" Nessa crowed.
"I'll ride Firewind alongside the cart," Freddy said, her mouth full of potato. "That way there'll be more room for the rest of you."
"Yes…" Mam chewed on the back of one knuckle as she fed Cathleen stew. "Right. Freddy, I'll need you to harness Big Blue to the cart. Check his shoes, feed and water him, pack his oats, and bring the cart to the door…"
Freddy nodded, slathering butter on another chunk of bread.
"Aileen, watch the wee one while I pack provisions and clothing. Cook up the rest of that mutton so we can take it, then fetch water to douse the fire. Nessa, roll up all the blankets for the journey, pile 'em by the door. And wrap the Bible in my shawl."
"What about me?" Ryanne asked.
"I could never forget you, my sweet," Mam said, brushing the tip of Ryanne's little nose with her finger. "Can you wash up all the bowls and spoons, dry them, put them in a sack, then sit in the window and watch the road?"
The girl nodded eagerly.
Mam finished her stew, stood, and glanced around the room, again wringing her hands. "Remember, girls, evil returns to the evil doer. We hold our heads high. Freddy and Aileen, I want you to wear your rosaries. Now, we must make haste!"
Freddy carried her bowl to the wash shelf and headed out the door. She spotted Big Blue in the middle field, still harnessed to the plow, his head drooping. Da had just shoed the gentle draught horse last month. Surely he was ready for the travel.
She stopped to soothe Firewind, hugging his neck. "Good boy," Freddy whispered to him. He was the best friend she'd ever had. Mam didn't care for him, though. She particularly disliked the way her headstrong daughter rode him through the fields, astride and in knee breeches.
"Frederica!" Mam hollered out the door. "Catch the milk cows and tie them to the back of the cart, and fetch the milking bucket. Quit your idling with that confounded shaggy beast! Ye'll be the death of me, girl…"
CHAPTER 2
May 1653
The O'Brennan girls wandered along the village beach, which was empty except for a man in a black coat. He sat on a flat rock at the far end of the strand. Freddy shaded her eyes from the late morning sun to see him better.
"Here!" Aileen called from the water's edge, sinking to her knees and attacking the wet sand with Aunt Kate's wooden hand spade.
Freddy rushed over, swinging a small leather bucket. Barefoot for the first time this year, she padded into the bay and dipped the pail into the water.
"Oooh! It's icy!" She cried, pouring out some of the seawater. Then she knelt next to her sister and scooped two handfuls of sand into the pail.
"Look at the squiggles," Aileen said. "We'll get plenty here."
"For plenty of cod," Freddy said. Lugworms were the best for catching fat fish from the bayside rocks near the village.
"Mam will be happy."
"She will, she will." Freddy lifted her face to the spring sun, waiting for Aileen to find the worms. She loved Aunt Kate and the breezy stretches of sand along Galway Bay, but sorely missed Da. She wondered where he was on this fine morning, and sent up a quick prayer that he was all right. He and Freddy had always been inseparable, working side by side on the farm in spite of Mam's objections. Mam worried that Freddy was too boyish and muscular to catch a good husband.
Freddy sighed, rested on her heels, and gazed at the bay. How lovely it would be to gallop Firewind down the beach, the fresh sea wind in her hair. There'd been no time for riding since arriving here. She scolded herself for her ingratitude. Many a family did not fare so well. As the O'Brennans had fled to County Galway, they'd shared the road with a starving family from Kilkenny City. Mam offered them as many potatoes as she could spare. One day they'd come across orphans trudging alone, faint from hunger. Mam crowded them into the cart so they could rest and nibble on dry biscuits.
"Eww!" Aileen held a six-inch-long lugworm in her spade. "Hurry!"
Freddy yanked Aunt Kate's work gloves from her a
pron pocket, put them on, grabbed the big worm, and placed it in the pail.
"Here's another, even bigger!"
Again Freddy handled the shiny marine worm, which had red gills running down the sides of its brown body. Before long the girls had filled the pail with live bait. Carefully covering the worms with more sand and seawater, they ambled down the bright strand and dipped their bare toes in the gentle waves. Freddy left the little bucket on the sand, hiked her skirts up, and skipped around Aileen in the chilly shallows, splashing her. Aileen shrieked and tried to throw water at Freddy with the spade. Tiring of their game, they gazed across the sparkling water to the black-streaked hills of the Burren and filled their lungs with the sweet May air.
Then they waded in a little stream that meandered across the sand. Freddy noticed the man walking toward them, his arms piled high with bundles. She wondered why he wore such a heavy coat on this delightfully warm morning.
"Let's go catch the biggest fish," Aileen said.
"Very well." Freddy retrieved the pail and headed toward the seawall.
"Say there!"
Freddy stopped and turned.
"Would you help an old fool?" The man had dropped two of his bundles on the sand.
Freddy looked at Aileen, who shrugged.
"How do you mean?" Freddy asked him.
"My back pains me." His gray-whiskered face twisted in misery. "If you would kindly carry my parcels into the village, I will give you sacks of papaya sweetmeats. Here, taste some."
She and Aileen each gobbled down a piece of candied fruit, their eyes widening at its exotic flavor. Their empty stomachs rumbling, they agreed to help.
"We were just going into the village," Freddy said, cheerfully hoisting several parcels and trying to keep the bait pail from spilling. The sisters followed the old man up the stairs onto the seawall and along narrow lanes that wound through rows of whitewashed cottages with crimson flowers and neatly thatched roofs.
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