Hannah’s Rebellion opening

[Kathleen Yanity]

Introduces antagonistic force, setting, tone & foreshadows a key conflict. Chapter 1 Philadelphia, October 4, 1779, Revolution Gone Awry: 

     William Penn founded his colony in 1682, and named its capital using the Greek words, “philos,” friendly love, and “adelphos,” brother. It was the “City of Brotherly Love,” and, as Quakers friends were quick to add, “Sisterly Affection.” But Philadelphia had been anything but benevolent since Hannah Arnold had arrived last year. And, once again, it had turned deadly. She’d just witnessed an attempted assault on the Society Hill home of a Declaration of Independence signer. She peered down from City Tavern’s rooftop through lingering gun smoke. Several bloodied Germantown militiamen laid on the cobblestones, muskets strewn about, some writhing in pain, a few clearly dead. How had the American Revolution come to this? There was a call for a cannon. With the Armory only a few blocks away, soon there’d be an even more powerful attack on James Wilson’s mansion. Several prominent Patriots were barricaded inside. Some, like Wilson, had added their names to the rebellion announcement, pledging their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to their cause. Most now had royal bounties on their heads. Others were veterans including America’s great war hero, her brother Benedict.

     When battling broke out in April 1775, Hannah and Benedict had expected a quick, brokered peace, even after Benedict and that rogue Ethan Allen took Fort Ticonderoga a month later. But after the bloody conflict at Boston’s Bunker Hill in June, both sides resolved to fight. That autumn, Benedict led an arduous wilderness trek into Canada, part of an ultimately unsuccessful campaign to take the region. In 1776, he orchestrated a gutsy Lake Champlain naval battle and narrowly escaped. The following April in Connecticut, again avoiding capture, he nearly defeated several regiments of elite British Rangers. His prowess that October stopped a third British advance in northern New York, though it nearly killed him. Despite his grave injury, his fighting spirit remained intact. He became Military Governor of Philadelphia but after calling out state-sanctioned abuses, including murder, he faced relentless public attacks from politicians. He wasn’t the only defiant Arnold. Hannah and a few allies discreetly aided Tory women remaining after the British Occupation. They’d stayed to protect their property rights but were greatly oppressed by a radical, cruel government. Stirring up civil discontent against opponents was another of its tactics, but this time, the mob was out of control.

     She should be furious if she wasn’t so frightened. Hannah and her brother had sacrificed mightily and endured much heartache. As he went off to war, Benedict’s wife died. Hannah alone ran their mercantile business, tended to their home, and raised his three small sons and their teenage ward. His long, perilous absences kept him from his children and caused her endless worry. They’d lost several trading seasons. Three years ago, they had lent much of their savings to the war effort and had yet to be reimbursed. So often Benedict’s efforts had been undermined by false accusations from jealous officers or ingratitude from ill-informed or scheming politicians. She’d wanted him to resign from the Continental Army, but he never did. For months, Benedict had been trapped in Philadelphia by bureaucrats seeking to punish him further, delaying his return to combat, or perhaps, as she hoped, his retirement. How ironic if he died in Wilson’s house, not by British hands, but American ones. What then? Would the crowd turn on her, his children, or his new, now-pregnant young wife?   A small field piece was pulled forward. Her stomach dropped as it was pointed at the house.