Rebel Sisters

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  The papers refused to print the document Grace had helped decode; Dublin Castle took immediate steps to ensure that its publication was suppressed. But Frank Sheehy-Skeffington had a copy and soon word of the Castle’s plans to move against the Volunteers and Sinn Fein spread.

  Even though it was clear that he and his friends were now all in danger of arrest, Joe continued to study his maps, charts and plans despite Grace’s objections.

  ‘Joe you need to rest, to get well,’ she implored him.

  As she kissed him good night she was filled with a sense of foreboding that something terrible was going to happen to the man she loved.

  Chapter 64

  Nellie

  AS EASTER DREW near, Liberty Hall became a hive of activity: preparations for the rebellion were in hand. Beneath the ground floor of the union building, men worked secretly, making bullets, grenades and bombs, stockpiling a large arsenal of weapons. Only a few weeks earlier the DMP had raided the union’s shop, where Rosie and Helena worked, and everyone had been terrified they would find the hidden arms supply.

  ‘They’ll be back,’ warned Helena ominously.

  James Connolly and Michael Mallin had called all members of the Irish Citizen Army together, asking them ‘Are you prepared to fight for Ireland’s freedom?’ and ‘Are you prepared to fight alongside the Irish Volunteers?’

  ‘Yes!’ answered Nellie proudly, aware that she was pledging her commitment to fight in the rebellion that would soon begin.

  William Partridge had often suggested to James Connolly that they fly the green flag of the Irish Republic over Liberty Hall.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be a grand thing to have the green flag flying there proudly for the entire world to see?’

  Now Connolly finally agreed that the time had come for the flag, the symbol of Irish freedom, to fly over the union building and the date was set for Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter. Notice of the event was printed in the Workers’ Republic.

  When the day came, Nellie joined the thousands of people gathered in the April sunshine. Beresford Square was packed, as were Butt Bridge and O’Connell Bridge. Tara Street and all the roads around were blocked, with huge crowds of people lining up along the quays and the river, everyone craning to witness the momentous occasion of a green Irish flag without the crown being flown over such a public building.

  The Citizen Army stood in formation on three sides of the square outside Liberty Hall, Nellie joining her friends in the women’s section. The Boy Scouts and the Fintan Lalor Pipe Band stood all together in the warm open air. James Connolly, in his Citizen Army uniform, smiled as he, Commandant Mallin and Countess Markievicz took in the huge crowds that had come to witness the event despite rumours that the army might intervene to prevent such a display of nationalism.

  Great care had been taken in choosing the colour-bearer who would have the honour of raising the flag and Connolly had finally picked sixteen-year-old Molly O’Reilly, a member of the Women Workers’ Union and the Citizen Army. Molly, who lived on Gardiner Street, had helped Nellie in the soup kitchens during the Lockout and Nellie believed that the choice of such a bright young woman demonstrated James Connolly’s and the union’s regard for both women and the working class.

  Molly was escorted by a colour guard-of-honour. Everyone fell hushed as she stepped forward and James Connolly officially handed her the green flag while the guards presented arms and the buglers sounded the salute. Captain Kit Poole and a guard of sixteen men then escorted her as she carried the flag into Liberty Hall.

  Nellie held her breath, the crowds silent, until a few minutes later a radiant Molly appeared up on the roof. Everyone watched as the flag was hoisted and began to unfurl, catching the wind and blowing proudly in the clear blue Dublin sky, the green flag of Ireland with its golden harp flying there for everyone to see.

  A huge roar erupted, the crowds bursting into tumultuous applause and cheering, hats flung in the air. Nellie herself was overcome with emotion, tears filling her eyes. Looking around, she could see that the men beside her were equally affected, as were many others in the crowd.

  The pipe band began to play joyfully as the cheering and celebrations continued. Connolly ordered the Citizen Army battalion to present arms as the bugles sounded again, then he asked all those present to be prepared to give their lives if necessary to keep the Irish flag flying.

  Looking up, Nellie thought of the regiments of young Irish soldiers that passed by Liberty Hall on their way to being shipped out to fight in the war. For many, this fluttering green flag might be one of the last sights they had of the country they loved.

  That night Connolly called them together to tell them that the ‘Rising’ would happen next week. He instructed them in ways to occupy and burrow through buildings, and to fight from the rooftops.

  ‘The odds are a thousand to one against us,’ he explained gravely.

  Looking into his brown eyes and seeing the sincerity, courage and integrity there, Nellie knew that she, like everyone else, was ready to follow James Connolly and fight.

  Chapter 65

  Isabella

  LIEBERT HAD SURPRISED them by returning home to Dublin after years away at sea. Isabella warmly welcomed her dearly loved son, who had a few weeks’ leave from his ship. Life in the navy suited him: he was tanned, fit and more muscular, but had also become more confident and mature. She had missed him terribly, for with his easy way and good humour he had always been a particular favourite of hers. His return to Temple Villas brought great joy and Frederick’s eyes welled with tears when he saw their son.

  ‘Your father is in good spirits despite everything, and your visit home has cheered him up immensely.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mother,’ he apologized, shocked to see how infirm his father was. ‘I should have come sooner. I cannot believe that Father has become such a frail old man.’

  She watched as he tried to make his amends for such a long absence from home.

  They still employed a nurse to assist with her husband’s care and had purchased a wheelchair, as Frederick was barely able to walk or stand unaided and his balance was very poor. With infinite patience, Liebert helped his father downstairs and into the wheelchair, bringing him for walks in the park and down to Rathmines, and even wheeling him out to the garden if there was any sunshine.

  ‘The prodigal has returned,’ teased Nellie and Grace, though Isabella knew that her daughters were delighted to have their brother finally home in Temple Villas.

  He regaled them with stories of the navy and shipboard life, as well as of the exotic places he had visited around the world – Africa, Egypt, South America and Hong Kong. He also described the unseen danger of German U-boat attacks that now filled the sea. He would sit with Frederick in the bedroom telling him of his voyages and sea crossings, of the huge blue whales that lived in the deep oceans and of schools of jumping dolphins and coloured flying fish.

  Liebert scooped Muriel’s children up in his arms and declared them two little rascals, and he enjoyed meeting MacDonagh, whom he declared a fine brother-in-law even if they did disagree politically.

  Isabella had heard only a week before his arrival that young Frank Heuston, the second of the Heuston twins, had died at Ypres. She was overwhelmed with sadness when she thought of the kind young man, who only months ago had been let home on leave to attend his father’s funeral. Now he was dead, just like his twin brother. She made the decision not to tell Frederick: it would upset him far too much.

  ‘You cannot distress Father with such news,’ agreed Muriel, who had accompanied her to the Heustons’ home on St Stephen’s Green to pay their respects.

  Liebert read the papers aloud every morning for Frederick and Isabella begged him not to mention the casualties of the war but to concentrate on good news, if there was any …

  Her son spent much of his time catching up with many of his old friends, some now married with families of their own. He brought her out to lunches and to a show in The Gaie
ty. Her daughters all seemed so caught up in their own lives now and were rarely at home, so it was a joy to have her son to escort her.

  She confided her worries about Grace’s engagement to Joe Plunkett.

  ‘Grace will pay absolutely no heed to my concerns or wishes in this regard,’ she complained. ‘She and your sisters all have minds of their own and refuse to give any credence to anything I say or advise.’

  ‘From what I remember they were always like that,’ he joked, ‘so I see that nothing has changed.’

  ‘Liebert, I do wish that you could stay in Ireland,’ she ventured nervously. ‘It would be wonderful for your father to have you back living here, at home or close by – whatever would suit. Frederick does miss you boys so much.’

  ‘Mother, I return to my ship in a few weeks,’ he answered patiently. ‘I enjoy being at sea – I could not imagine anything else. I have no plans to return to live here.’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied, trying to hide her crushing disappointment.

  ‘Let us enjoy the time I have left in Dublin,’ he said. ‘What about a trip to the Botanic Gardens or to Kingstown for a stroll down the pier and some afternoon tea?’

  ‘The gardens would be nice,’ she agreed, smiling. ‘Your father used to like to bring me there.’

  ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘Glasnevin it is next week then.’

  Liebert went off to visit a friend and Isabella sat for a while in the drawing room alone, listening to the tick of the clock, the house silent, chiding herself for her foolishness in being upset at his response.

  Chapter 66

  Muriel

  MURIEL WAS BESIDE herself with worry, for MacDonagh was rarely at home. He had taken to staying overnight in safe houses with various supporters and friends scattered throughout the city, often returning only in the morning to Oakley Road to see Muriel and the children.

  ‘Why can’t you sleep here in your own bed?’ she begged him. ‘I miss you so much.’

  ‘I do not want to put you or the children at risk,’ he explained, holding her hand and stroking her palm and fingers gently.

  At night she lay awake, filled with trepidation. Their home was under constant watch and she could not help but worry: she feared for her husband’s safety. Joe Plunkett had come through his big operation and she knew MacDonagh spent much of his time visiting him in the nursing home.

  ‘You know what Joe is like! His spirit is strong and he is determined to make a good recovery,’ he told her.

  ‘What about his marriage to Grace?’

  ‘He is set on it.’

  Grace often stayed with her at night to keep her company. Her sister could not wait to be married, but the situation with Joe’s illness worried her. She also confided in Muriel about the Castle document she had helped Joe decode.

  ‘I saw it myself. Muriel, they intend arresting Joe and Padraig and MacDonagh and all of them and deporting them,’ Grace said, her face pale.

  Muriel was barely able to hide her utter dismay at the thought of such a thing happening and the next morning she accosted MacDonagh on his return, asking him about the truth of it.

  ‘Yes, we all know about it,’ he admitted. ‘Joe says they’ll swoop down on us when we least expect it, but we are prepared. If I am to be arrested I will not go without a fight, I promise you.’

  Muriel worried about what would happen to her and the children if he were arrested. ‘I couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to you!’ she cried, unable to hide her upset and fear.

  ‘Nothing will happen to me,’ he reassured her, pulling her into his arms.

  He went upstairs to collect some papers and clean clothes; he was getting ready to leave again.

  ‘Can’t you stay a bit longer?’ she requested. ‘Please?’

  ‘I’m sorry, my love, but I have to go,’ he replied, buttoning up his jacket.

  ‘Will you at least be home here for Easter with us?’

  ‘I have issued an order in our newsletter for manoeuvres to be held on Easter Sunday in every part of Ireland,’ he said, kissing her and the children before he left. ‘So don’t go making any family plans for me that day.’

  ‘Your regular manoeuvres?’

  MacDonagh deliberately didn’t answer her, but quickly took up his overcoat and left.

  Muriel’s heart was beating so fast inside her chest that she felt almost dizzy. Now she was certain that he was keeping something from her. She was not stupid and realized that whatever he and his friends were planning must be highly dangerous. Why else would he hide it from her? She suspected that, in his usual gallant fashion, her kind husband was desperately trying to protect her.

  Chapter 67

  Nellie

  THE WEATHER WAS overcast when Nellie cycled into town on Easter Saturday to meet Margaret Skinnider, the young Scottish teacher, at Liberty Hall. Margaret had borrowed a bicycle from Nora Connolly, James’s daughter, and Michael Mallin had given Nellie a map with the area around St Stephen’s Green park and Leeson Street all marked out. Nellie wondered what was special about this area as the two of them set off, cycling through the city.

  Margaret kept asking her questions all along the way, taking special note of side streets and laneways, walking up and down them, recording vacant premises, the rooflines and heights of buildings on the streets that they passed. They strolled around St Stephen’s Green itself, no one paying the slightest heed to them.

  Nellie discovered that, even though Margaret was from Glasgow, both her parents were Irish and she always considered herself Irish.

  ‘I’m a member of the Glasgow branch of Cumann na mBan, which Countess Markievicz set up,’ Margaret told her proudly as they wheeled their bicycles along. ‘She’s a remarkable woman, an inspiration.’

  ‘Indeed she is!’ agreed Nellie. ‘She’s a stalwart of the Citizen Army and is one of the kindest women I know. She helped me with the Bureau. She is not at all what people expect, but is always set on fighting for justice and doing what she believes is right, no matter what people think of her.’

  ‘She brought me to Ash Street the last time I was over as I wanted to see the other side of Dublin. Glasgow is no perfect city, I admit, but, Nellie, I was appalled by the poverty and deprivation that I saw.’

  ‘That’s the great shame of Dublin,’ Nellie said angrily.

  ‘How do the authorities permit so many children and parents to live here in those terrible run-down tenement buildings, crowded together in one room with no sanitation?’

  ‘No one cares, but it has to change,’ Nellie nodded. ‘That’s what Jim Larkin and the union fought for, and what Mr Connolly and the countess and all of us believe and want – an Irish nation governed by its own people.’

  ‘That would be a fine thing.’

  Nellie pointed out Harcourt Street station and the canal.

  ‘I joined a rifle club in Glasgow for good Scottish women who wanted to play their part in the defence of the British empire.’ Margaret laughed. ‘I kept going to it because the gun training was excellent. The other ladies didn’t care much for guns and shooting, but by the time it closed down I’d become a good markswoman, a sure shot.’

  ‘I’ve been trained to use a gun with the Citizen Army,’ said Nellie ruefully, ‘but I’m most definitely not a sure shot.’

  ‘The countess is a very fine markswoman,’ Margaret confided. ‘When she advised me of plans for a rebellion, I knew that the opportunity might come for me to be of assistance in the fight for nationalism.’

  Nellie studied the earnest young mathematics teacher, her gentle and scholarly demeanour hiding her independent, feisty spirit and determination.

  ‘So every time I cross over here to Ireland I bring something special. I hid a few detonators under my hat the last time I came.’

  ‘Detonators!’ gasped Nellie. ‘Were you not terrified?’

  ‘I admit I was a bit afraid that something might spark if I was sitting in a cabin,’ she giggled, ‘so I sat out on the open deck
in case I ignited or worse still, blew up!’

  ‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’ Nellie asked as they cycled back together in tandem to Liberty Hall.

  ‘A wee bit, but I volunteered to come over to Dublin because I want to be part of it all.’ She shrugged as they passed along the quays.

  Liberty Hall was in a state of high excitement and preparation as Nellie and Margaret arrived back there. Men were busy polishing and oiling their guns, while the women were organizing food rations, with joints of meat being prepared, batches of scones and loaves of bread baked. Medical supplies and equipment were also being checked and packed for tomorrow.

  James Connolly gave them last-minute orders to parade at 3.30 p.m. on Easter Sunday in full uniform at Liberty Hall, where they would join with the Volunteers.

  People were in and out of the building and the air of expectation for the next day and what it would bring was palpable. Many of the men agreed to stay overnight while Nellie, like most of the women, headed home, excited about what tomorrow would bring.

  Chapter 68

  Grace

  IT WAS ALMOST mid-morning when, to Grace’s surprise, Mick Collins called at Temple Villas.

  ‘Is it Joe?’ she asked, fearing bad news. ‘Is he worse? Am I to go to the nursing home?’

  ‘Ah Grace, it’s nothing like that,’ he told her kindly. ‘He sent me to give you these.’

  He passed her a package. Perhaps it was a message about their wedding tomorrow, but it felt strangely heavy and she immediately opened it. It was a revolver and also there was £20 in notes wrapped up beside it.

  She suddenly felt terribly afraid.

  ‘Mick, why do I need a gun?’

  ‘Joe wants you to have it if you need to defend yourself. The money is in case you have to bribe some of the military. He’s afraid you may be captured, Grace, or might be arrested because of him.’