As her relationship with MacDonagh deepened, Muriel saw little of George and made constant excuses as to why she could not meet him, wishing that he would stop writing to invite her out.
MacDonagh was the most wonderful man and he excited her in a way no one else had. He was reckless and brave, funny and charming, and when she was with him he made her feel that she was beautiful. No one had ever told her that she was pretty or beautiful, but he told her all the time. He buried his face in her long, thick red hair, saying how much he adored it. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had made her feel ashamed of her hair, forcing her to wear it up and covered with a hat. MacDonagh laughed as he unpinned it and let it tumble and ripple around her shoulders.
‘You are the most beautiful girl in the world, Muriel,’ he said, ‘and the wonderful thing is that you do not even realize it.’
Sometimes when she saw him in conversation with another woman she worried that he had grown bored with her. She could not help it, but at times she even grew jealous of her sisters and the attention he paid to them.
‘But it’s you I love,’ he teased.
When she visited his cottage it felt as if they were a proper couple, cooking meals together, playing with his dog, curled up together on the couch reading. She would sit and watch him work for hours, noticing his long, dark eyelashes and the funny furrowed wrinkle he got on his brow when he was concentrating, and she loved the way he sang under his breath when he was happy.
Every day she cared more and more for him, but she knew she must keep their growing involvement a secret from Mother, who would not countenance such an arrangement. John, Grace and Nellie all knew about their relationship but she said nothing to her sister Kate, who had moved back to Dublin with her husband, Walter. Kate was the best sister in the world but had never been good at keeping secrets from their mother.
Now Muriel wrote to George to tell him clearly and politely that they could no longer see each other or correspond. In her heart she knew that she loved only Thomas MacDonagh.
Chapter 26
Muriel
IN JUNE FIREWORKS and bonfires lit up the skies in Dublin and all across the empire to celebrate the official coronation of the new king, George V, who had succeeded his father, the late King Edward VII, on the British throne. Plans for a visit by King George to Ireland later in the summer to meet his loyal subjects had already been announced.
MacDonagh confided in Muriel as they strolled along by the canal that he and his friends Padraig, Eamonn Ceannt and Sean Mac Diarmada were set on organizing a nationalist protest against the king’s visit and Dublin Corporation’s plan to make an official Loyal Address on behalf of his subjects to offer allegiance to him as it would not represent the growing nationalist view of the monarchy.
She and her sisters soon found themselves involved too, as Countess Markievicz and Helena Molony urged members of the Daughters of Ireland to join the massive demonstration to be held in Beresford Place.
‘We are not King George’s subjects and the Lord Mayor and his councillors do not speak for us or represent the opinion of Irish nationalists,’ they declared fiercely to the crowd.
Countess Markievicz had hung a large banner proclaiming ‘Dear Land, Thou art not conquered yet’ across the bottom of Grafton Street, but the Dublin Metropolitan Police had quickly taken it down.
Thousands crowded on to the street, everyone pushing, shoving and shouting. Muriel was afraid she would be knocked off her feet as the crowds gathered to listen to speakers express their opposition to the visit of the new British king. She, Grace and John handed out leaflets that Helena had printed up.
Countess Markievicz defiantly attempted to set fire to the Union flag, which she had stolen from Leinster House, and Helena was arrested and imprisoned for throwing stones at a giant illuminated picture of the king and queen and for publicly calling the king ‘a scoundrel’.
The demonstrations continued over the next few days and, surrounded by police, Muriel and her sisters protested outside City Hall as the city councillors tried to enter the building. Skirmishes and fighting broke out as nationalists demanded that Dublin Corporation cancel any plans for an official Loyal Address to the king.
MacDonagh teased her unmercifully when the newspaper reports mentioned ‘the Gifford sisters looking like a musical comedy in their pretty pale linen dresses as they attended the demonstration’.
‘What will Mother say if she reads it?’ fretted Muriel.
‘Mother would never read such a nationalist paper,’ John assured her.
In July King George V arrived in Ireland, the sun blazing as the royal party’s yacht sailed into Kingstown and anchored. The streets of the seaside town and the roads into Dublin were bedecked with bright-coloured bunting and flags, flowers and Venetian poles to celebrate the royal visit of King George V, Queen Mary and their children, Prince Edward and Princess Mary. A national holiday had been declared for 8 July and thousands of people began to line the route from early morning to welcome the king.
Muriel, Grace and John dressed quickly and carried bundles of freshly printed protest leaflets to distribute among the crowds all along the route that the royal party would take.
‘I am pleased to see you girls making the effort to see our new king,’ beamed Mother as they prepared to leave. ‘I’m not able for such standing, but I look forward to hearing of the royal visit on your return.’
Muriel felt guilty at their subterfuge, but their mother had no idea of the circles they now moved in.
She had never seen such crowds. Thousands of Dubliners lined the coast road all the way from the pretty harbour town of Kingstown towards the city. Men attired in blazers and straw boaters, women in their white summer dresses and hats, children in light pinafores and short trousers – everyone was in holiday mood, cheering and waving flags to welcome the royal visitors. Many had brought picnics and sandwiches as they patiently waited to watch the procession of carriages escorted by the 5th Royal Irish Lancers pass before them on their journey into the city and up to the Phoenix Park.
Muriel was glad of her hat, for the sun beat down on them as they moved along distributing their leaflets. A loud cheer went up as the royal procession approached. King George waved grandly from his carriage and everyone pressed forward, determined to get a glimpse of the monarch and his entourage. As she handed out her leaflets most people did not even bother to read them, but simply tossed them away, presuming that they were suffragettes.
Her feet ached by the time they returned home. Mother and Father were both eager to hear every little detail about the royal party and the welcome the king had received. Muriel could not deny that the visit was an enormous success, for the people of Dublin had certainly taken their new monarch to their hearts.
Their only consolation was that, at the last hour, Dublin Corporation had reconsidered and cancelled the Lord Mayor’s Loyal Address to His Majesty.
‘A small victory, but a victory none the less.’ MacDonagh looked pleased when they met later that summer’s evening to stroll by the canal.
Chapter 27
Muriel
SHE LOVED MACDONAGH so much, perhaps too much at times. As their relationship deepened Muriel could not imagine her life without him. She kept a photograph of him under her pillow, secretly kissing it morning and night. She had given him a studio portrait she’d had taken wearing a cream lace dress, and she cut a lock of her red hair and tied it with a green satin ribbon for him to keep under his pillow.
Her heart sang when he gave or sent her pages of his new plays and poems to read, entrusting his words and thoughts to her. Muriel carefully read every line and word so that she could offer an informed opinion, aware that she was sharing his innermost thoughts and emotions. He had gained his Masters degree and was desperately trying to find a university job.
MacDonagh wrote to her every day; sometimes the letters came twice or even three times a day. Muriel tried to intercept the postman before her parents or someone else
in the house noticed. She would write by return, her heart racing as she poured her words and feelings for him on to the page. Father eventually became puzzled by how many times the poor postman came to 8 Temple Villas.
They met as often as they could, for she longed to see and speak to him and found it unbearable to be without him. She wrote and asked him to wear his kilt when they met, for it pleased her so. Was it possible to love someone so much, she wondered as she wrote to him secretly by candlelight or moonlight, then sealing each precious letter to him.
She worried about her mother and father’s reaction to her romantic involvement. They would most certainly disapprove. Mother would forbid such a relationship with a man who was not only a Roman Catholic and financially insecure, but also committed to the nationalist cause and an Irish speaker. MacDonagh’s family might also be very upset at his involvement with a Protestant, as his sister Mary had become a Catholic nun, taking the name Sister Francesca.
‘Your family will all get used to it,’ he soothed her. ‘You told me your father is Catholic and your sister Kate’s husband is Catholic too, so why should they object to us when I love you so much?’
In October MacDonagh proposed to her. First he wrote her a testament declaring his intention to marry her and included a lock of his thick brown hair and a penny with a hole in it. She cried with happiness. This was all she wanted, all she had dreamed of.
Then he took her out for dinner and, as they walked home, his face serious, he stopped under a golden avenue of trees and asked Muriel to marry him. She could barely speak with happiness as he kissed her and promised to love her always. He gave her the most beautiful ring, slipping it on to her finger. He had had it designed for her, along with a silver and blue enamelled cross with a moonstone at its centre and designs of the alpha and omega, a dove and flowers. No other man would conceive of such a piece and she loved him for it. With his ring on her finger, the two of them were now linked for ever.
‘Muriel, I will come and talk to your father about my intentions and our plans to marry. Tell him that we will, however, wait to wed until my prospects improve and I am more financially secure and able to provide for you.’
‘I don’t care a toss about money,’ she reassured him.
She knew that MacDonagh considered himself poor and that he worried for the future. He even talked of going to America, lecturing there and trying to find a job in a school, as Padraig couldn’t afford to increase his wages.
‘But please wait to talk to my father and let me judge the time to break the news to them,’ she implored. ‘You do not know how old-fashioned and staid and strict they really are.’
He gently kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I do not believe such a kind beauty could have such ogres of parents.’
Muriel was happier than she had ever been before. Touching the beautiful ring he had had made, she felt as if he was holding her fingers. Soon she would be married to the man she loved. Mrs Thomas MacDonagh – she liked the sound of it. But what if Mother tried to prevent them marrying? She couldn’t bear it. But she loved MacDonagh and she was determined that she would marry him whether they approved or not …
Chapter 28
Muriel
MURIEL PACED UP and down in the hall trying to work up her courage to tell her parents. MacDonagh had insisted she tell them, threatening otherwise to arrive at Temple Villas and break the news of their engagement himself.
‘You don’t know them,’ she had pleaded. ‘You don’t know how difficult my mother can be! Trust me, I need to choose the right time, find the perfect opportunity to tell them about us.’
‘You have to tell them, Muriel!’ urged Grace. ‘Maud Gonne asked me if it was true about the engagement today when we were down serving meals at the school.’
‘And Kate keeps snooping around about who is sending you all the letters,’ warned John. ‘Mother is bound to find out from her.’
‘Very well … but promise me you two will stay with me when I tell them,’ she begged.
Muriel knew in her heart that she couldn’t delay it any longer. It had been three weeks and word was bound to get out of their engagement. If her parents heard it from someone else they would never forgive her.
Returning from a meeting in Rathmines with her sisters, she decided that she could not put it off any more. Mother and Father were both sitting at the fire relaxing when their three daughters joined them.
‘Perhaps I will go to my study,’ Father excused himself, beginning to stand up. ‘I will take my coffee there.’
‘Wait, Father, stay, there is something I want to tell you and Mother.’ She thought of MacDonagh as she took a deep, steadying breath.
Mother put down her cup and Father looked up, worried. ‘Are you well, my dear?’
‘I am well – very well indeed,’ she said with forced bravado. ‘Very well, for I am in love, and in fact I am going to get married.’
‘Get married?’ repeated Mother, shocked.
‘Yes, it is very good news, for Mr Thomas MacDonagh has asked me to be his wife and I have accepted his proposal.’
‘MacDonagh? Who is he? We have no knowledge of this Mr MacDonagh or of your involvement with him!’ exploded Mother angrily. ‘Why has there been no mention of this Mr MacDonagh before? MacDonagh – the name is Roman Catholic.’
‘Mr MacDonagh is a Catholic,’ confirmed Muriel resolutely. ‘He is a teacher and works part-time in Mr Pearse’s school, but he has recently been awarded his Masters degree from the university and is intent on finding a lecturing position.’
‘That rebel school! I cannot credit that a daughter of ours would even consider involvement with any of the teachers employed there!’ Mother raged. ‘This Mr MacDonagh is certainly not a person we would consider fit to be part of this family, let alone marry one of our daughters.’
‘Thomas is a good man and I love him,’ Muriel countered fiercely. ‘He loves me and I love him and I would be honoured to be his wife.’
‘Mother, you and Father will grow to love him, I promise that,’ interjected Grace.
‘Everyone who knows Mr MacDonagh knows his kindness and good spirit, and what a dedicated teacher he is and how hard he works,’ Muriel continued, determined to win them over.
‘He’s one of the best!’ declared John loyally. ‘He and Muriel are a wonderful couple, perfect for each other. You and Father will like him.’
‘When did this subterfuge and secret dealing occur?’ demanded Mother. ‘Are your sisters involved in it?’
‘There is no secret, Mother,’ Muriel explained, trying not to lose her temper. ‘Thomas MacDonagh asked me to be his wife a few weeks ago and I said yes.’
‘It is obvious that your sisters knew but there was no thought to what your father and I may think or say on the matter – is that it?’
‘Father and Mother, please! When you meet MacDonagh you will see that he is a good man and will be a good husband. We love each other and want to marry.’
‘We do not approve of this underhand engagement and will not countenance such a marriage,’ Mother threw back at her. ‘Your father and I forbid it.’
‘How can you be so harsh?’ interrupted John, furious.
‘Now I understand Muriel’s reluctance to tell you,’ added Grace bitterly. ‘I don’t blame her for hiding it from you. I would do the same.’
‘Go upstairs immediately and leave us!’ Mother ordered her and John. ‘This is between Muriel and your father and me.’
Reluctantly, her sisters stood up. Muriel could tell John was ready to take up the fight but she signalled for them to go.
‘Muriel, it is very strange that your Mr MacDonagh did not even have the good manners to come and ask your father for your hand as I would expect a gentleman to do,’ Mother continued. ‘We have had no inkling of these plans you and Mr MacDonagh have made.’
‘He wanted to ask Father but I told him not to,’ she replied tearfully, ‘because I knew what the reaction would be.’
‘As
a Roman Catholic,’ Mother continued, ‘he will expect you to convert and give up your own faith.’
‘He has not asked me to do that – he never would.’
‘Mark my words but he will,’ Mother argued bitterly. ‘He will expect you to be like him.’
‘MacDonagh is not like that about religion.’
‘All men are like that.’
‘Father wasn’t,’ she countered, looking across the table. ‘When you married, he never forced you to join his church, or any of us for that matter.’
‘Your father was an exception,’ Mother conceded reluctantly. ‘But my family were totally opposed to the marriage and it had repercussions.’
‘Then don’t oppose our marriage,’ Muriel pleaded. ‘Please give MacDonagh and me a chance.’
‘This Mr MacDonagh is not the right person for you to marry,’ her mother insisted, her cheeks hot. ‘Muriel, you are beautiful, bright and intelligent. There are endless numbers of young men who would love to marry you – men of position and standing and wealth instead of this teacher from that rebel school. Your Mr MacDonagh, I fear, is opposed to all we hold dear and value. How could you possibly be happy living with such a person?’
‘Mother, I love him. Don’t you remember how you felt, marrying Father? Despite opposition you went ahead and married him. How then can you try to stop me?’
‘I knew that we would overcome such things. Your father was a man of prospects, already building his legal career.’
‘Thomas MacDonagh has prospects too. He hopes to obtain a lecturing position in one of the universities and he writes the most wonderful poems and plays.’
‘Poems and plays will not put a roof over your head, nor pay for pretty dresses,’ responded her mother sarcastically. ‘You are not used to struggle, nor have you any idea of financial penury. How could we wish our beautiful daughter to marry into such a situation?’
‘This is not about what you want, Mother, it’s about Thomas MacDonagh and me building a life together. I want to marry him.’
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