by A. O'Connor
“And who is the woman he is engaged to? Now that we can safely say it’s not Princess Mary!” chuckled the first deputy.
As Michael folded his arms and looked across the chamber, he saw that Harry was staring at him without any expression on his face.
After the session, Michael waded through the deputies who were applauding him and clapping his back and made his way to Harry.
“Harry!” said Michael as he reached him. “Well, it’s grand to see you!”
“You too, Mick!”
“Well – come here!” said Michael, reaching for him and hugging him.
Harry allowed himself to be hugged before pulling back.
“So – you’re engaged to be married?” he said.
“I am, Harry,” said Michael, becoming serious. “To Kitty.”
Harry nodded as they looked at each other in silence.
“I hope you both will be very happy,” said Harry as he offered a hand for Michael to shake.
Michael grabbed his hand and shook it warmly.
Then Harry turned and walked away into the crowd of deputies.
Michael rushed back to his office. He had learned enough in London about how rumours and gossip spread like lightning to realise news of his engagement would have wings. He needed to warn Kitty that the truth was out.
“Kathleen!” he shouted, running into his office where he hastily began to write a note to Kitty, explaining that he had announced their engagement that day in the Dáil without mentioning her name, having been forced to show his hand due to the accusation of an engagement to Princess Mary.
“Yes, Mick?” said Kathleen, rushing into his office.
“Send this express post to Kitty without any delay,” said Michael, handing her the envelope. “It’s urgent.”
“Right away,” said Kathleen who turned to rush away, but then paused. “Oh, and Mick – congratulations on the engagement – Kitty is a lovely girl!”
Michael’s mouth dropped open. He watched Kathleen disappear out the door, wondering how she had found out about the announcement in the Dáil before he had even arrived back at his own office!
CHAPTER 61
“Post, Miss Kitty,” said Molly coming into the parlour.
“Thank you, Molly,” said Kitty.
“And the plumbing is broken again!” announced Molly as she flounced out.
Kitty raised her eyes to heaven and quickly singled out an envelope with Michael’s writing that had come express post.
She tore it open and read the contents. Her mouth dropped open.
“What is this?” she whispered to herself. “Accusations he was engaged to Princess Mary! So he had to announce our engagement!”
Kitty looked up in shock. She had never in her wildest dreams ever have thought that their engagement would be announced as part of the Treaty debate in the Dáil in Dublin! Was ever an engagement announced in such a bizarre way before? Michael hadn’t mentioned her name, but she wondered how long it would now take for it to become known. She felt strangely exposed and vulnerable. She felt at the same time relieved and happy the engagement had at last become official – but what a way for it to happen? No happy family announcement with family and friends. No opening of a bottle of champagne and a toast to the happy couple as she and Michael gazed into each other’s eyes lovingly. No – an accusation he was to run off with the King’s daughter and a defence that he was already engaged to another! She shook her head in dismay as she got up to find Maud to discuss this latest chain of events. She dropped the rest of the post in her haste and, bending down to pick the envelopes up, she spotted another familiar handwriting on the front of another envelope.
She took the envelope and held it with trembling hands. It was Harry’s handwriting. She opened the envelope and read the note inside.
Kitty,
I want to congratulate you. M told me of your engagement, and I wish you long life and happiness,
Ever Yours,
Harry Boland.
She read the note again and again. She felt relieved that Harry now knew of the engagement. But what a change in his writing style. Gone was the flowery verse, the close sentiments, and they were replaced with a cool, professional almost curt note. This wasn’t the Harry she knew. And yet here he was, ever the gentleman, acknowledging the engagement and wishing her well. His heart must be breaking, she thought, as she sat down on the couch holding the letter close to her and letting the tears fall down her face.
“Michael has announced you are engaged, and you must not let him down!” urged Maud. “Gearóid says Mick is under terrible pressure trying to get the Treaty passed in Dublin and he’s been accused of all sorts – fraternising with the enemy and insinuations that he was a traitor to the Irish. He needs your support now more than ever!”
“And I will not let him down, Maud, but I just wish he had let me know it was to be announced and given me some time to prepare.”
“Well, he kept your identity secret.”
Kitty hooted with laughter. “For how long? News like that doesn’t remain secret for long!”
There was a knock on the parlour door and the receptionist from the hotel walked in.
“Sorry to disturb, Miss Kitty, but all these telegrams arrived into the reception for you,” said the girl, handing them to Kitty with a smile before turning and leaving.
“What are all these?” asked Kitty as she riffled through them.
“Well?” asked Maud.
“Oh, good lord!” said Kitty as she sank into the couch. “They are all from newspapers and magazines looking to do interviews with me!”
Maud grabbed some of them and began to riffle through them. “This is from the London Times … this from the New York Times … international press as well as Irish!”
“What will I do?” asked Kitty, suddenly feeling terrified and exposed.
Maud sat down beside her. “As I was just saying to you – you must not let Michael down! Michael is now an international figure and people want to know about you as his fiancée. You’ve nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed about, Kitty! Let them come and meet you and do Michael proud!”
Kitty’s hands were shaking at the thought but as she glanced over at the table and saw a photograph of Hazel Lavery on the front cover of Tatler, her mind became steely about what she needed to do.
Kitty took a look at herself in her full-length mirror before turning to Maud.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Just beautiful, Kitty,” said Maud.
Kitty was dressed in an elegant long dress in black satin with a beaded bodice and narrow shoulder straps, high-heeled black shoes and black stockings. Maud thought she wouldn’t look out of place in a high-society party in Long Island.
In the parlour, invited members of the press waited anxiously. After receiving all the telegrams, Kitty and Maud had contacted the editors of the newspapers, inviting them to Granard to meet and photograph Kitty.
As she held Maud’s hand walking down the hallway to the parlour, Kitty realised her life was about to change and nothing would ever be the same again.
CHAPTER 62
After days of ruthless debate, the time for talk was coming to an end and the time for the vote was fast approaching. As Michael made his way into the chamber, he felt weary. He had endured days of attacks on his character – being called everything from a traitor to a mindless drunk who didn’t know what he had been doing in London when he signed the treaty. What was most hurtful were the attacks from his friends.
That morning, he was getting extra looks of curiosity. The press had made its way down to Longford and photographed Kitty in her parlour. She looked beautiful, relaxed and cheerful as she sat on the couch posing for the photographs. He was overcome with pride on seeing her. He knew she would not have wanted that level of attention but was doing it to support him and to let him know she was with him and capable and able for the life they would have together when they were married.
As eve
ryone took their seats in the chambers, Michael wondered how Harry felt on seeing the photographs of Kitty in the newspapers. He could only imagine it would have hurt him deeply.
As the debating got under way, Harry rose to his feet to make his speech to the house. Michael thought it curious that Harry had waited until nearly the final hour before the vote to voice his opinion.
“Fellow deputies, I have listened with great interest and sometimes great pain to the debate since returning from America,” he said to a hushed chamber. “I can only say that listening to Deputy Collins and the way he has vigorously defended his treaty makes me very sad … as I wish, with all my heart, he had shown the same level of fight and passion in his dealings with Lloyd George. If he had, I believe we would not be in this mess today – for I cannot and will not support this treaty which is an insult to our people who have fought so hard and deserve their independence.”
As the deputies in the chamber went wild with shouts of approval and disapproval, Michael stared down at the floor before slowly raising his eyes to look over at Harry who was staring right back at him, both men with tears in their eyes.
On the afternoon of the seventh of January 1922, the vote was taken with 64 deputies voting in favour and 57 against. The Anglo-Irish Treaty was ratified with a majority of seven votes. Éamon de Valera, who had fought tooth and nail for the Treaty to fail, then resigned as president along with his supporters. Arthur Griffith was elected president in his place. Michael was given several portfolios in the new government, including the role of chief contact and negotiator with the British government as Ireland established itself as a Free State within the British empire.
As Michael left the chamber that evening, the new Irish government was already in disarray as a severe split had emerged with Michael and the Pro-Treaty deputies on one side and the Anti-Treaty ones, led by De Valera, on the other – and those refused even to sit from then on in the new parliament. As Michael left the chamber, most deputies looked to be in tears or close to tears. But out on the street large crowds had gathered and cheered Michael as he made his way back to the Gresham.
That night in his room at the hotel he felt exhausted and emotionally drained as he sat at his desk and wrote a quick note to Kitty.
My Dearest Kitty,
I am writing you this quick note before I collapse into bed as I am exhausted. The pressure from the other side is dreadful. If you can please come and see me as soon as you can,
M.
Michael called the bellboy and gave him the letter to post and then went to the bed and stretched out on it. He knew he should be celebrating – the treaty had been passed and now Ireland could start getting back to normal with a new government in place in Dublin. But he knew it would not end there – De Valera and his supporters would not accept the Treaty and Michael was terrified where that would lead to. He dearly wished Hazel was there to discuss the implications of everything with him. He wished he was in Cromwell Place. As he lay there he thought about Harry and the look of anguish on his face. Could they ever be friends again?
CHAPTER 63
“Well, finally we get to paint you, Prime Minister!” exclaimed Hazel as Lloyd George sat for John in the studio at Cromwell Place.
“Well, I had thought up to now there was no point that I, or any other of the British cabinet, should pose for Sir John’s Irish Collection – to celebrate the Irish Treaty if there was nothing in fact to celebrate!”
“Indeed, but we must not be lax, Prime Minister,” said Hazel. “We must give Michael as much support as possible to ensure success. I received a letter from him, only this morning, that he fears the walkout by De Valera and the others may result in a civil war.”
Lloyd George raised his eyes to heaven. “Well, Mr. Collins will have to make sure there isn’t one!”
“Easier said than done! He needs your assurance, Prime Minister, that you will not interfere with the new Irish constitution – and that you will ratify the treaty in Westminster without delay.”
“Well, it would be out of the question that the Irish just draft their constitution without British input or approval. They could put anything in it – and more than likely would put anything in it!”
“Prime Minister!” snapped Hazel angrily. “Michael has put his reputation, career and even his life on the line here! There is a real fear the fledging Dublin parliament will collapse under the weight of opposition from De Valera et al! With De Valera gone out of official politics, Michael Collins is the most prominent Irish politician. Arthur Griffith may be the new President, but as you saw when he was here for the negotiations, he is tired and old. The success of the treaty – of Ireland – now rests squarely on Michael’s shoulders – and if you know what’s good for you, you had better do everything in your power to lighten that load!”
Lloyd George looked at her in shock. He had never seen the usually refined and jovial Hazel Lavery in such a temper before.
“I shall bear all that in mind when he comes to London and I meet him next week,” he said.
“Good! And we are having a drinks party on the Friday – Michael is the guest of honour – we will expect you to attend.”
“Hazel, dear,” said John, frustrated, as he stood paintbrush in hand, “you are distracting the subject too much … if we could have some quiet, please?”
“Yes, of course,” said Hazel. “I must send a letter to Michael by return post anyway.”
Lloyd George looked at Hazel in astonishment as she marched out of the room.
“Prime Minister – if I could be so bold as to ask you to adopt your original pose?” said John, smiling patiently.
“Yes, of course,” said Lloyd George as he began to pose again.
A thick blanket of snow lay on Dublin’s Sackville Street as the taxicab manoeuvred down the thoroughfare and the snow continued to fall. It pulled up outside the Gresham Hotel and a porter rushed out and opened the back door of the vehicle, holding up an umbrella for Kitty as he escorted her into the hotel. The taxi driver brought in her suitcase and she paid him.
“Mr. Collins asked for you to be brought straight up to his room when you arrive, Miss Kiernan,” said the porter.
“Lead the way so!” said Kitty as she followed him up the main staircase of the plush hotel.
They continued up the stairs to the top floor where the porter stopped at a door.
“You can put it down here.” Kitty pointed at the suitcase.
She smiled at the porter, tipped him, and waited until he left before knocking at the door.
“Come in!” came a growl from inside.
She picked up her case and opened the door.
Michael was sitting at the bureau with his back to her while the snow fell against the long windows on either side of him.
“Leave it on the table,” instructed Michael.
She smiled, realising that he thought she was one of the hotel staff bringing something she had ordered.
“Leave what exactly?” she asked.
He spun around, delight and surprise on his face. “Kitty!”
He rushed to her and embraced her.
As he kissed her, her fragrance enveloped him, and he never wanted to let her go.
“Oh, I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her ear.
She pulled back and looked at him smiling, before her smile faded. “You look exhausted, Michael.”
“I am exhausted, Kitty,” he sighed, letting her go and scratching his head. “It’s been a draining few weeks.”
She led him to the couch by the hand and they sat down.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said.
“Of course I came when you asked me to.”
He looked out at the falling snow. “Or that you’d be held up with the weather.”
“No – nothing could stop me!” She laughed but he didn’t join in. “I see you got the Treaty passed,” she said then.
He nodded. “But at what cost? Half of my friends will never speak to me aga
in … they see me as a traitor.”
“What about Harry? I got a note from him – congratulating me on the engagement. Did he say anything to you?”
“Not about the engagement. But he had plenty to say in the chamber about me as a politician, basically calling me a disgrace.” Michael’s face was a mixture of hurt and anger. “He has rejected the Treaty.”
“Oh, no!” Kitty was shocked. “Do you think – do you think that he criticised you – because of our engagement?” She was almost afraid to ask.
“I cannot believe a politician as dedicated as Harry could be influenced by the affairs of the heart – can you?” Now it was Michael’s turn to almost be afraid to ask.
“He must be broken-hearted, is all I can say. He was full sure he and I would be married. It must be a terrible blow … who knows how anyone would react under such circumstances?”
He looked at her, alarmed. “You don’t regret any of it, do you? The engagement, I mean?”
“Of course not!”
“It just sounds as if you have regret in your voice,” he said.
“Mick, I love you! I want to dedicate my life to you, to loving you and to be everything a wife should be to a husband – I just didn’t realise it would cause so much pain for others, for Harry.”
“Well, let us try to put all that aside just for the moment – I have to go to London next week.”
“London!” She let go of his hands and stood up abruptly in shock.
“Yes, a meeting Lloyd George and Churchill.”
“What for?” She was horrified.
“Ah, Kitty! There’s no point in me going through the political reasons for my visit – you just wouldn’t be interested! Suffice it to say, since the walkout by Dev and the others, my new role encompasses being the chief liaison and negotiator with London. I am to be Ireland’s official envoy.”