Hanna's American Wake

The weather had been particularly warm so far during the winter of 1892, and today was no exception. The wind was blowing lightly but, not as cold as it should be for the end of January, as a matter of fact thought Hanna, "It is kind of warm today at 46 degrees, or maybe it's just my blood running fast in anticipation of leaving." Hannah Enneguess was soon to become another statistic in the great migration from Ireland that was fast consuming Irish families all over the country, a leaving that would at one point in time place more Irish citizens on the shores of America than were left in Ireland itself.
She ran as fast as she could through the fields from her friend Elizabeth' house where she had been most of the morning and early afternoon two miles away from the small village of Coachford. They had spent the afternoon talking and laughing about the life they had had together since they were little girls running through the fields while their parents labored to bring in a decent crop of potatoes, carrots, turnips, and other root vegetables that they would sell and use for their own consumption. The times that they had thrown dried cow patties at the elegant carraiges that carried the English landlords or the wagons of the lackey's that traveled through the villages collecting the rents for the landlords, or the days and the hours they spent waiting for their fathers to come from the larger villages with special treats of chocolate for them where they had traded a small amount of their hard earned vegetable crop.
There was no time to waste these days, as everything seemed to be moving so fast. It seemed like last week that James her new bridegroom had left for the great promise city of Boston to begin the makings of a life for them there, but had actually been over three months. The younger brothers and sisters that Hanna would soon be leaving to take over her duties at home needed to be attended to before her mother came in from the fields with the rest of the village wives, and her father would surely be wanting a big meal after helping the village blacksmith with his chores all day along with his own farming duties.
Thinking as she moved deftly through the rock strewn freshly plowed field, of what she had to do once she arrived at the tiny thatched roof house that her father had built several years before for his new bride. She thought of the loaves of rising bread she had near the fireplace, they should be ready by now. Two loaves of soda bread and three loaves of molasses bread should tied everyone over until breakfast she thought as she reached the backyard. She would have to rinse the lamb off that her mother had purchased yesterday evening from the butcher and then soaked in salted water to keep it fresh through the night.

She stoked the fireplace with more peat when she entered the house, then started a good fire in the cast iron stove in the kitchen. As she placed a dutch oven on the stove with a large dollop of lard with which to braise the chunks of lamb she remembered that she had not brought any onions in from the root cellar. Hurredly she ran outside to the cellar and gathered four of the beautiful globes that still had the green shoots and dirt clinging to them along with several bright orange carrots and cotton white turnips still with their greenery intact. Coming out of the cellar she stopped and dropped the vegetables into a galvanized tub by the small pump and began rinsing them with cold water. She had just entered the kitchen and begun peeling and cutting the onions when her mother came in and spoke to her through the small foyer she called a mud room near the back door. "Is supper ready dear?" "Your father and the rest of the bulls will be here any minute now." Hanna answered cheerily, "Yes mother, I've started it and it won't take long. I just hope it's enough for them." Her mother came into the room and looked at the lamb now dusted with flour and releasing it's wonderful earthy aroma throughout the room as it sauteed in the dutch oven; "My dear you'll be doing us very proud as a wife in the Sullivan household when you get to America." she said as she looked into the pot.
The reference to America brought to the surface Hanna's mixed feelings about leaving. She loved James Henry Sullivan with all of heart and soul and couldn't wait to be with him again and begin building the family that they both had dreams of but her love for her own family here in Coachford was very strong also and it brought tears to her eyes when she thought of the confusing feelings. She and James it was said around the village were just like her mother and father. He was muscular and tall from working the farms all of his life as was her father and she was the spitting image of her ma, small and petite but with an arm that packed a punch harder than the rocks in the fields. She turned her back as if cleaning the sideboard so her mother could not see the tears welling up in her big blue eyes. "I'll be doing my best mother for you, dad and the boys. When I get there it won't take long with James' hard work and my strength to have enough for you and dad to come over if you want." Hanna said it but, she knew it was wishful thinking. Her mother and father both had already said that they had lived through too much to leave Ireland to the fates of someone else but, if Hanna or any of their other children wished to leave that was entirely up to them. Just as she finished putting the bread on the table she heard the first of the men coming in, just as loud and boisterous as the rest, of course he would be he who created them. James Enneguess was a strapping man who stood six feet and some inches in his bare feet with shoulders that made him turn sideways to get through the doors of some small pubs. He could and six days a week would work literally from before the sun came up until it was almost setting in the afternoon. He would come home and wash up, have his dinner and go outside to watch the sun in it's final minutes of setting while he smoked a bowl from his pipe. He always loved that time of the day because as he put it; " t'was when one could truly see the emerald of Ireland."
"Aye, but it's good to come home to the smell of fine food. Tis better to smell a cooked lamb then the shite of one." Hanna was immediately right in front of him with her warm smile. Even at the age of thirty she could bring out the little girl in herself for him and he bathed in her presence, "dear God, how I will miss this girl when she leaves." he thought to himself when he saw her. "Give yer Da a hug wee one." She smiled as much like a woman as she could in front of him summoning all the strength she could to keep her eyes from welling up. "Now what did my gal cook me today? I know yer ma didn't cook it, she's gettin lazy in her old age ya know." winking at her so her mother couldn't see him. Da, don't talk like that about ma, she works hard in the fields while yer out galivanting through the pubs in Cork City every week with Billy Sweeney's father and uncle."
Hanna's mother came around her and swatted at him with a small fireplace broom. "Git away from her ya big cow. And wash yer feet before ya come to the table they smell worse than that old nag I've been plowing behind al day." James opened his mouth wide in an overdramatic display of shock and awe, looking back and forth from Hanna to his wife. As he turned on his heel to go back outside the smile on his face was as wide as Galway Bay.
Two weeks later the day dawned cold and wet with a stinging rain that felt like needles hitting her face as Hanna went outside and down the road to the store for more flour to make the soda bread that would be needed for the week. She bought twice as much flour and soda as usual. Her passage on the ship sailing for Liverpool had arrived on Friday, she had to be at the port in Cork City Wednesday morning not later than 7:30 the letter had said, which meant she would have to leave the house by 4:00 a.m. to be there on time. The ship sailed at 3:00 p.m. with or without all of the passengers. Although the Enneguess family was not rich they were not poor farmers either. James Enneguess knew the meaning of work and even more so the meaning of a saved wage and, he saved diligently. He would not have his beautiful princess sent to America without a proper wake. Hanna felt weak all day and refused to go to her room because every time she did she felt faint when she looked at her trunk packed with what little clothing and belongings she possesed. She had to get out of the house. She took the small row boat moored by the river and rowed until she was out of sight of the village. Sitting in the boat as it drifted aimlessly in the peacefull water she let her mind wander to her childhood and memories of a happy time that she knew would stay th her all of her life. After a while she went back to the shore and walked home.
By the time she arrived it was time for supper and her mother had a grand one prepared. All of her favorites from colcannon to turnip stew, her mother had even made a sweet rock candy that she had loved as a child when mixed with warm milk.
After supper all of the miscellaneous furniture was moved from the kitchen and chairs as well as anything else that could serve as an instrument for sitting was placed around the room. There were several women that were brought in and started to keen within minutes after they entered the house. It seemed that the majority oof the village was there that night. It started out to be a very sad night, and Hanna felt as if she was watching her own wake at one point. All of the men and women were crying as they listened to the keening. Finally the wailing began to subside and a fiddle along with a hornpipe started playing. The owner of the pub had donated his usual half-keg of stout, and Hanna's father passed around glasses that he walked around and filled with whiskey he had made himself. The young kids from around the village danced n the middle of the floor and chased each other around while the ladies all remarked what a beautiful wife she was and how James Henry Sullivan had better not take advantage of her good nature for the wrath of God himself would shrivel up his manhood!" The house became a lively group of elders and young people dancing and talking about everything that could be discussed. Hanna heard more about motherhood and the life of a woman that night than she'd heard or would hear the rest of her days. And everyone wished her the best that life had to offer.
By midnight everyone had gone, the house and kitchen were back in order and all were in bed. At 3:00 a.m. Hanna awoke and went downstairs to find her father and his best friend had already loaded the coach and were sitting there polishing off the last of his homemade whiskey. The family climbed into the coach at 4:00 a.m. to a very cold but calm morning and headed off for the port. As the coach reached the end of the lane and turned onto the main road to the docks Hanna looked back. A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked down the dark street disappearing before her.