Taking Sides

by Brian Gallagher

  Tommy studied to be a vet, and although he had to repeat his college examinations several times, eventually he qualified, and joined his father in the family practice.

  Susie had no interest in college and went to work with her aunt, who was a buyer for one of the largest department stores in Dublin. She loved the work, and with a loan from her father she opened a clothes shop of her own. It did good business right from the start, although customers often asked about its unusual name – Ecland.

  Mr McMahon was eventually released from prison, but he never got back his job as a teacher. He emigrated to Boston where he ran an Irish bar, and told stories about his exploits back in Ireland to anyone who would listen.

  Finbar recovered from his wounds and escaped from custody in the final months of the civil war, but was shot dead while resisting the government forces in one of the last skirmishes of the conflict.

  Ned also recovered from his gunshot wounds, and after a spell in prison for his part in Annie’s kidnap, he returned to living alone in Willow Cottage.

  Annie’s father saved for and bought several more cars, and ran a small, but successful taxi company for many years. Although only in her fifties, Annie’s mother died during an operation for appendicitis. She did, however, live to see Annie passing all her school and university exams with distinction and fulfilling her ambition to be a teacher.

  Annie remained friends with Susie for the rest of her life. When Sister Josephine became principal in Eccles Street, she hired Annie to teach English and French, and Annie become one of the most popular and respected teachers in the school.

  Over twenty years after she had last seen Peter, Annie came across a book that he had written about the civil war, which was published in Canada. Annie enjoyed reading it and was tempted to write to Peter, via his publisher, but in the end she didn’t. They had different lives now, and the past was the past. And besides, there was no need to talk about the old days; she recalled them in vivid detail. And despite the dramatic way that tragedy had been only narrowly avoided, she would always have a special place in her heart for that time. No need to reminisce, she would always remember the action-packed six months when herself, Peter, Susie and Tommy had been the best of friends – and when she and Peter had the biggest adventure of their lives.

  HISTORICAL NOTE

  Taking Sides is a work of fiction and the Reilly, Scanlon and O’Neill families are figments of my imagination. However, the historical incidents are all real, and the major events that Peter and Annie experience, such as the burning of the Four Courts, the destruction of the upper part of Sackville Street (now O’Connell Street) and the funeral of Michael Collins all took place as described.

  The Black and Tans that Peter encounters in the Prologue really were hated and feared by the civilian population. Regular British army soldiers were more respected, and some Dubliners even felt a little nostalgic when the last British troops marched down to Dublin’s docks in December 1923, to leave forever the newly founded Irish Free State.

  The Civil War lasted from June 1922 until May 1923. Approximately eight hundred soldiers from the national Army were killed, while the defeated anti-Treaty forces had between two and three thousand fatalities and approximately twelve thousand taken prisoner. Huge damage was done during the war, with railway lines destroyed, bridges blown up and houses burnt to the ground.

  Because so many of those who fought in the Civil War had once been comrades during the War of Independence, there was a sense of betrayal on both sides, and the savagery of the fighting left a bitterness that continued for many years after the conflict ended.

  St Alphonsus Avenue, where Annie lived, and Botanic Road, off which the Scanlons and O’Neills lived, are real places that still exist in Dublin. The fields leading down to the River Tolka at ‘the steppiers,’ however, are long since built upon, and are now the site of suburban homes in the Glasnevin/Drumcondra area.

  Willow Cottage, where Annie was kept captive, is fictitious, but the location of the nearby Cardiffs Bridge is real, and there were cottages in that area. None of them now survives, and a new road and bridge occupy the site today, with the original Cardiffs Bridge, unused but still intact, the only reminder of how things once were.

  Eccles Street convent, established in 1882, moved to a new location on Griffith Avenue in 1984. The site at which Annie and Susie attended school is now part of the Mater Hospital.

  Belvedere College still stands at the same place in Denmark Street that it has occupied since 1832, and its rugby team, of which Peter was a keen member, continues to be a force in schoolboy rugby in Dublin.

  And finally, the republic that Peter wanted so badly came into being twenty-seven years later, when in 1949 the Irish Free State became the Republic of Ireland.

  Brian Gallagher,

  Dublin, 2011.

  If you liked Taking Sides, you will enjoy Brian Gallagher’s other historical novel, Across The Divide, which follows the lives of two friends, Liam and Nora, whose friendship is put to the test when their families are on opposite sides in the dispute between the employers and the workers that led to the Dublin Lockout in 1913.

  The book opens with a dramatic scene that captures the excitement, tension and atmosphere of the time. Here’s a sneak preview:

  31 AUGUST 1913 SACKVILLE STREET, DUBLIN.

  Liam knew that he shouldn’t be here. It was no place for a ten-year-old boy; any adult would tell you that. But he hadn’t asked an adult. He had just sneaked into town without anyone knowing. Because really, he had to be here. Today’s meeting in the city’s main street was too exciting to miss, and he looked forward to telling his friend Nora all about his adventures later on.

  Last night Liam had heard his mother saying that the police had banned Jim Larkin, the leader of the city’s striking workers, from addressing the people of Dublin. But Larkin had insisted that he would appear in Sackville Street at half past one today, police or no police. Liam had no idea how Larkin was going to do it, and neither, it seemed, had anybody else, but the street was thronged with people eager to see what would happen.

  Even though he was fairly tall for a ten-year-old, Liam found it hard to see across Sackville Street as he stood at the base of Nelson’s Pillar, the high column topped by a statue of Lord Nelson that Ma said was the exact centre of Dublin. The thought of his mother made him feel guilty. She’d be worried if she knew that he was here alone and surrounded by grown-ups. And there was a funny mood in the crowd, a slightly frightening sense that something, anything could suddenly happen. But things that were frightening were sometimes exciting too, and Liam told himself that what his mother didn’t know needn’t worry her, and that if his hero, Mr Larkin, wasn’t afraid, then he wouldn’t be either.

  There were hundreds of policemen on duty, and as Liam moved down the street towards the General Post Office he noticed how angry some of them seemed, fingering their batons and looking suspiciously at the people who spilled off the footpaths and onto the street.

  The crowd itself was an odd mixture, with Larkin’s supporters, mostly working men in their caps and Sunday-best jackets, mingling with well-dressed people coming from Mass in the nearby pro-Cathedral. Liam checked the time on the big clock mounted on the wall above a nearby shop. It was twenty-nine minutes past one. Only one minute to go, and still no sign of Jim Larkin. It would be really disappointing if he didn’t show up, yet with policemen stationed at every corner it was hard to see how the leader of the striking workers could keep his promise. But he always kept his promises, Liam’s father had said last night, you could count on it.

  Thinking of his father, Liam glanced around nervously. As a loyal supporter of Larkin, Da was bound to be somewhere in the crowd. And Liam would be in serious trouble with him if he was spotted here. He would have loved to come into town today with him, but there was no question of his father bringing his son to a meeting banned by the police.

  ‘Make way there, make way,’ cried a big police sergeant, and Liam was j
ostled forward as a line of officers pushed the crowd back to allow a carriage to draw up outside the Imperial Hotel, directly across the road from the General Post Office.

  Through a gap in the crowd Liam watched as a bearded, elderly man and an expensively dressed woman emerged from the carriage and made for the hotel entrance. Liam felt a surge of annoyance. Why should everyone else be pushed out of the way just because somebody rich wanted to enter the hotel? It wasn’t that he had anything against the lady or the man – whom he now saw was stooped and slow-moving – but why did the police have to be so rough with everyone else? Da said that the police were completely on the side of the employers. So pushing the ordinary people back was a way of showing them who was boss.

  Liam felt a tap on his shoulder.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here, sonny,’ said a voice in a strong country accent.

  Liam looked up to see a tall policeman looking down at him.

  ‘Be on off home with you now,’ said the man gruffly.

  Part of Liam wanted to say ‘Dublin is my home,’ but it wouldn’t be a good idea to give cheek to a policeman. He hesitated, reluctant to argue back, but not wanting to give in at once.

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’

  ‘Jim Larkin,’ answered Liam, the smart answer slipping out before he could stop himself.

  The policeman’s face darkened. ‘Don’t give me lip, you little pup!’ The man took a step nearer, and Liam drew back.

  There was a sudden roar from the crowd.

  ‘Larkin! It’s Larkin!’

  They began cheering wildly and pointing to a balcony on the first floor of the Imperial Hotel. To Liam’s relief, the policeman turned away and began pushing his way towards the hotel.

  Liam stood on tiptoe to see the figure on the balcony. It couldn’t be! But it was: the elderly gentleman who had walked so shakily from the carriage was now standing erect and proud. It was Jim Larkin!

  ‘Workers of Dublin, I said I’d be here, and here I am!’

  The crowd went mad, and Liam found himself cheering loudly along with the people around him.

  There was a sudden surge as police converged on the hotel, and Liam knew it wouldn’t be long before Larkin was arrested. Sure enough, before Larkin could say much more he was pulled back off the balcony. But the briefness of the appearance didn’t matter to Liam or to the people in the street. Their hero had outfoxed his enemies once again and coolly kept his promise to appear, right under their noses.

  Liam ran forward, wanting to see Larkin in the flesh as he was led away. The people behind him surged forward too, but were stopped by the police, who had formed a cordon around the hotel. Standing as close to the line of policemen as he dared, his heart pounding, Liam saw a flurry of activity at the door of the Imperial. Then an officer in command of a group of uniformed policemen bundled Larkin out the door and towards a carriage.

  Before Liam knew what he was doing, he called out, ‘Well done, Mr Larkin!’

  The tall union leader, still wearing the false beard that had been part of his disguise, turned his head towards the voice. Locking eyes briefly with Liam, he winked, and then was thrust into the carriage.

  Winked at by Jim Larkin! Liam could hardly believe it. Wouldn’t that be something to tell Da, if he dared!

  As the carriage pulled away, scuffling broke out on the roadway near the hotel entrance. There was a cry of ‘Baton charge!’ and within seconds there was chaos. The policemen who had earlier been fingering their batons now suddenly wielded them savagely. People screamed in pain, and men fell to the ground, blood streaming from their heads and faces. Liam felt his stomach tighten in fear and he tried to run in the opposite direction, but was forced back by the crowd behind him who were being batoned by police officers advancing from the direction of Nelson’s Pillar.

  Turning on his heel, Liam ran as best he could down the middle of the road, dodging the bodies of those who had already fallen. He couldn’t believe that the police were attacking everyone in sight. But something had been unleashed today, and nobody was safe, not even a boy like himself.

  As if to prove it, a nearby policeman, having just felled a middle-aged man with a sickening blow from his baton, swung around and flailed at Liam. Dodging from an attack that might have split his head, Liam still caught part of the blow on his shoulder, and he cried out in pain.

  Before the man could swing again, Liam ducked in panic under his outstretched arm and ran on down the street. Soon he was near the turn for Sackville Place, where he attended choir practice with Nora two nights a week. There was a laneway that ran off Sackville Place and parallel to Marlborough Street; if he could just make it to there, maybe he could escape from the horror of the riot.

  He ran to the corner of Sackville Place and turned into it, then stopped dead. Mounted policemen were advancing towards him, reaching down from their saddles and felling anyone within range of their batons.

  Liam turned and fled, the cries of those being pursued by the horsemen ringing in his ears. Sackville Street was now like a battlefield, but Liam didn’t hesitate and ran diagonally across the broad thoroughfare, heading for Prince’s Street and the alley at its far end that would take him to Middle Abbey Street and safety.

  Lots of other people were running in the same direction, and he couldn’t see clearly what lay ahead. Suddenly the crowd halted in disarray. Liam heard the order ‘Reserves advance!’, and the people in front of him milled about, trying to reverse direction as the reserve body of police officers was unleashed.

  Really frightened now, Liam hesitated, not knowing what to do. People all around him began to be hit, trapped as they were in front and rear. Liam crouched and raised his arms to try to protect his head. A heavy hand spun him around, then a baton crashed into his temple. For a split second he saw a blinding light, then he fell to the ground and everything faded to darkness.

  About the Author

  BRIAN GALLAGHER is a full-time writer whose plays and short stories have been produced in Ireland, Britain and Canada. He has written extensively for radio and television and for many years was one of the scriptwriters on RTÉ’s Fair City.

  He collaborated with composer Shaun Purcell on the musical, Larkin, for which he wrote the book and lyrics, and on Winds of Change for RTÉ’s Lyric FM.

  His first book of historical fiction for young readers was Across the Divide, set in the Dublin Lockout, 1913. He lives with his family in Dublin.

  Copyright

  This eBook edition first published 2012 by The O’Brien Press Ltd,

  12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland

  Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777

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  Website: www.obrien.ie

  First published 2011

  eBook ISBN: 978–1–84717–383–6

  Copyright for text © Brian Gallagher 2011

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  © The O’Brien Press Ltd

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