Rebel Sisters (32 page)

He began to read a few words, a sentence. Grace tried to concentrate and make some sense of it.

‘Replace C with an A,' he instructed. ‘Replace U with a T. I'm not sure if that is a B or D – try D.'

She jotted the words down as quickly as she could, trying to keep the order and follow what he was saying. It was some kind of shorthand or code, but she could already clearly read that the members of Sinn Fein and the executive and heads of the Volunteers were all to be arrested.

A chill ran over her as she continued to write, for the document detailed plans to arrest the members of the organizations of which so many of their family and friends were part. It also outlined plans to confine members of the DMP and even the RIC to their barracks while British military authorities took over Liberty Hall, Larkfield, Countess Markievicz's home Surrey House, the Volunteers' headquarters, St Enda's school, Eoin MacNeill's home and the O'Rahillys' house in Herbert Park.

‘Joe, where did you get this?' she demanded as she finished and began to read over what she had written down.

‘It's a document from the Dublin Castle authorities which we received through a friend of a friend,' he said, pushing his bony fingers through his hair, distracted. ‘They obviously plan to arrest us all, even though we haven't done a thing yet. What irony!'

Grace swallowed hard. She knew they were planning something, but he had chosen not to confide in her and now it would be to no avail.

‘We will all be arrested and deported, the organization decimated, and all for nothing.' He was utterly crestfallen.

‘I'm sorry, Joe.' Grace put down her pen.

‘They can't get away with this,' he went on angrily. ‘We need to get copies of this to everyone. Let them know what they are planning.'

Grace was filled with trepidation that Joe would be arrested. Armed DMP men and soldiers had surrounded Larkfield only a few weeks earlier and then mysteriously disappeared.

‘Joe, you are not well. It is too dangerous for you to stay here,' she pleaded. ‘The military may come and arrest you.'

‘Go and find George,' he begged. ‘Tell him we need to print this with our own press and send copies of it to warn people of what lies ahead. Call their bluff and print it in the newspapers.'

Later that evening an exhausted Joe finally agreed to return to the nursing home.

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.

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.

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 Gaiety. 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.

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.