The line between “labor union” and “secret society” wasn’t always clear during the 19th century — and the Molly Maguires were sometimes considered a bit of both.
Back home in Ireland, where rent rates were too high and food was too scarce, the Molly Maguires were rural, country boys who likely saw themselves as the Irish version of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. If you asked them (or consulted their published rulebook), they were supposed to be a plague to evil landlords and a boon to those they liked.
But then the Molly Maguires jumped on a boat, sailed past the Statue of Liberty, and made their way to the coal mines in Pennsylvania. Being Irish in the United States in the 1870s wasn’t easy. Many of the original colonists were English and they hadn’t changed their opinions of the Irish once they crossed the Atlantic and founded a nation. As far as they were concerned, the Irish were as good as second-class citizens — even 100 years later.
Buried in Pennsylvania coal mines and making pennies for pay, the Irish discovered that the American dream was a hoax — and they weren’t happy about it. The behavior of mine owners during major disasters (like a fire that took the lives of 110 trapped miners) and the economic depression of 1873, convinced the miners that their employers didn’t care about them. So the Molly Maguires did what they knew how to do best. They staged a quiet revolution.
It’s difficult to figure out what exactly the Mollies were actually responsible for. Between 1876 and 1878, they were accused of violent crimes like arson, murder, and kidnapping — but the legal process wasn’t exactly up to par. The accusations were made by Franklin B. Gowen, the president of the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad who had made his money from the coal industry, and an Irishman turned private detective named James McParland. Oddly, the trials were primarily privately run and Gowen sometimes served as the prosecutor.
Of course, during this time labor unions were also becoming far more popular and were driving a movement mine-owners didn’t like. It’s conceivable that the trials were simply posturing to scare union leaders — posturing with very serious consequences since the punishment typically meted out was execution.
In total, 19 men were convicted of murder on the testimony of McParland, who had spent two years trying to infiltrate the group. The last was Frank Langdon, who was accused separately of murdering a foreman more than 10 years prior. Langdon was hanged on Dec. 18, even though the judge who signed the death warrant believed he was innocent. While it’s not exactly clear how he was connected to the secret society, Langdon’s execution was hailed as the “death of Molly-ism.”
This article originally appeared on Aubrey’s Substack, Pilgrim’s Way, on Dec. 18, 2023.
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