Rebel Sisters (34 page)

NELLIE SLEPT BADLY,
tossing and turning, anxious about the rebellion. Next morning she attended the Easter Sunday church service with Mother and her brother, praying silently that she and the other members of the Citizen Army were doing the right thing and that they would have the courage and resolve to begin the fight for Ireland's independence.

She excused herself from Easter lunch, guiltily hugging Mother goodbye as she left for town. By the time she arrived at a crowded Liberty Hall she was filled with anticipation and excitement.

Groups of men in full uniform stood outside talking as the place began to fill.

However, as Nellie entered she discovered that an air of utter gloom and despondency hung over the place.

‘What has happened?' she asked, stunned. ‘Have our plans been discovered?'

‘Everything has been cancelled,' Rosie said angrily. ‘It's all been called off because of the Volunteers.'

‘Cancelled? Why would they do such a thing?'

‘Eoin MacNeill, the head of the Volunteers, gave the orders last night to cancel the rebellion. He sent messengers across the country to all the branches, and wrote a notice to be printed in all the newspapers this morning, telling the Volunteers that there would be no manoeuvres for any of their members today. He's gone and banjaxed the lot of us,' she hissed.

Nellie could clearly see that large groups of Volunteers had still turned up and that they were equally baffled by their new orders.

‘They must not have seen the notices.' Rosie shrugged as she handed Nellie the newspaper and pointed out the notice that Eoin MacNeill had placed in it cancelling all Volunteer manoeuvres planned for Easter Sunday.

‘Ina and I came down from Belfast to tell Father that the Volunteers up north had received the order too and were obeying it,' Nora Connolly added dejectedly.

‘But why would MacNeill do this?' Nellie asked as she read in the
Sunday Independent
that all orders given to the Irish Volunteers were rescinded and that no parades, marches or movements of Irish Volunteers would take place, with every Volunteer strictly ordered to obey.

‘A shipment of guns from Germany that the Volunteers were expecting was intercepted by the British down in Kerry,' explained Helena Molony, who had come over to join them. ‘They've arrested Roger Casement on suspicion of organizing it, and to top it all two Volunteers sent to work the radio signals were killed in a motor-vehicle accident somewhere nearby.'

Nellie's heart sank at hearing how many things had gone wrong. Calamity after calamity. It was a disaster.

‘MacNeill feared that it was far too risky to go ahead, as the British could well be aware of their plans,' Helena continued under her breath, ‘but the countess and Tom Clarke and most of the others are furious and still want to go ahead with the Rising.'

Everyone stood around upset and confused, not knowing what was happening. The crowd was growing both inside and outside Liberty Hall, all prepared to join in the planned rebellion. What were they meant to do – return home?

Michael Mallin, William Partridge and the countess were in a huddle talking together, the countess loudly threatening to shoot Eoin MacNeill if she got her hands on him. Meanwhile all the members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood's Military Council were upstairs in Room 7. It was clear from the raised voices that some kind of meeting was going on between the heads of the Citizen Army and the Volunteers in a desperate effort to try to resolve the situation. James Connolly, Padraig Pearse, Tom Clarke, Eamonn Ceannt, MacDonagh, Joe and Sean Mac Diarmada looked deadly serious when they finally emerged and went to talk to their captains and commandants. Everyone was on tenterhooks, anxiously watching and awaiting their decision.

Most could not hide their disappointment when they were told that the rebellion was postponed until tomorrow at midday, when everyone would assemble here again. They all knew in their hearts that now their numbers could be seriously depleted, and that they ran the risk of the Castle arresting them if they delved into why such a notice had appeared in the papers.

Michael Mallin's wife, Agnes, came with her four children to see her husband briefly before he left. She was a pretty woman and was naturally anxious: she clearly knew what was happening today and wanted to spend a few precious minutes with her husband. Nellie, suspecting that Agnes was in the family way again, made sure to get her a chair and the two of them talked together quietly.

A few hours later James Connolly assembled a large group of them. It was clear that he was absolutely furious about the change of orders.

‘The Citizen Army does not have to obey Mr MacNeill's order,' he told them angrily, ‘so get ready to move out on a route march.'

He and Commandant Mallin led them off, marching across Butt Bridge, along College Green, up Grafton Street and around by the park where Nellie had brought Margaret yesterday. Eighteen-year-old bugler William Oman was instructed to sound his bugle in front of certain key places on the route as they headed along York Street and down George's Street to Dame Street and Sackville Street, the very centre of Dublin city. Nellie found herself taking particular notice of where they went. The crowds around ignored them.

Returning to Liberty Hall, they prepared tea for everyone. Usually on Sundays a very popular concert was held here and it was decided to carry on with it as normal so as not to arouse suspicions. As Nellie listened to the singing and piano playing it seemed so strange that tomorrow they would all go out together. Michael Mallin played his flute, his music touching the audience as he gazed around the crowded hall.

The men of the Citizen Army had been ordered to sleep the night there, but the women had been told they were not to stay, so Nellie, yawning, slipped out of the union building and went home.

THE SUN WAS
shining in her window, dappling the bedclothes, as Grace stretched out. All her fears and worries about Easter Sunday had been for nothing. There had been no rebellion, no demonstrations and no arrests. Joe must be safe, for the day had passed quietly. The Volunteers, it seemed, and their grand plans were in disarray after Eoin MacNeill had somehow got wind of everything and cancelled all Volunteer drilling and meetings, putting notices in all the newspapers and sending messengers around the country to all the organization's branches.

She had met MacDonagh briefly yesterday night at Muriel's and it was the first time she had ever seen her usually calm brother-in-law so upset and angry. Padraig and Willie Pearse had also called, grim-faced. The three of them were in heated discussion in the living room when she said her discreet goodbyes and came home.

All day yesterday she'd felt a sense of despondency and gloom, as it should have been their wedding day. Geraldine, Tommy Dillon and the Plunkett family had celebrated at a wedding breakfast in Geraldine's home in Belgrave Square and the newly wed couple had stayed in the Imperial Hotel, the place where she and Joe had also booked to stay for a night or two. It made her sad and lonesome to think about it.

But no more dawdling and lazing in bed, she chided herself, and she washed and dressed quickly and went downstairs to breakfast.

Mother had decided to breakfast in Father's room. He still had such difficulty eating and swallowing that even a simple bowl of porridge could near choke him. Mother felt it was her duty to keep him company, talking to him about the day and trying to keep his spirits up. The nurse would arrive a little later to wash, change and shave him and give him his medicines.

Liebert planned to go to the Easter Monday races in Fairyhouse with a few old friends and Grace could hear him singing in the bathroom as he got ready.

A letter had just been delivered for her and she eagerly read it. Joe had written it yesterday, telling her he intended returning to the nursing home last night to rest. He said everything was bully, and despite his own illness he was worrying about her. Relief washed over her that he was safe. She would go into town to see him. Perhaps he might even have news of the plans for their wedding. She sat at the table; she would have a little scrambled egg and perhaps one slice of bacon and some of Julia's brown soda bread, which was good for the digestion.

Nellie came in to join her, immediately taking a large plate and heaping it with eggs, several slices of bacon and two sausages. Adding a few slices of bread, she came and sat beside her.

‘You must be hungry,' Grace teased, passing her more bread.

‘How's Joe?' Nellie asked.

‘He looks awful,' she blurted out. ‘We met at the Metropole on Saturday because he went and checked himself out of Mrs Quinn's even though it's clear that he's still very unwell. But, thank heaven, I just got a letter from him to say he decided to go back there again last night to rest.'

‘Did you visit Muriel?'

‘Yes, I stayed with her on Saturday night. You know how nervous she gets being on her own, but thank heaven MacDonagh came home yesterday, which was a great relief. Little Don was delighted to see him. Apparently all the big plans for the Volunteers for Easter Sunday were cancelled. He's upset and angry with Eoin MacNeill, but Muriel is very relieved.'

Nellie buttered her slice of bread thoughtfully.

‘All I will say, Grace, is don't believe all you hear.'

‘What do you mean?' asked Grace, perplexed.

‘Just what I said.' Nellie smiled cryptically, getting up and taking another helping of egg.

‘Have you got drilling and manoeuvres today, is that it?'

Nellie kept eating, refusing to answer.

‘Muriel said that all Volunteer movements were cancelled.'

‘Perhaps,' said Nellie as Julia came into the room with some fresh tea and proceeded to take their plates away.

Sometimes Nellie drove her mad with her stupid loyalty to Countess Markievicz and James Connolly and the Liberty Hall crew. She spent more time with them than she did with the family.

‘I plan to visit Joe today, cheer him up,' Grace remarked.

‘I have to go,' said Nellie with a smile, getting up from the table. ‘I'll run upstairs to say good morning to Father before I leave.'

Something made Grace sit there waiting until twenty minutes later she saw the small figure of her older sister, dressed in her green jacket, a pretty white linen shirt, her tweed skirt, heavy walking boots and green hat, putting a flask of water into the leather kitbag hanging across her body. Nellie checked herself in the mirror as she began to go towards the front door.

‘Idiot!' Grace told herself. It was today. Nothing had been cancelled. Could she not see by her sister's attire and attitude that, whatever everyone said or thought, the orders for the Volunteers and the Citizen Army had simply been changed, events postponed from yesterday until today.

‘Wait, Nellie, please!' she begged, racing past her and up to the bedroom. She grabbed her bag and almost ran back down to where her sister stood, puzzled, at the open front door.

Grace reached inside her bag, took out the small revolver and pushed it into her sister's hands.

‘Grace – where did you get this?' Nellie asked, shocked, as she cradled the gun in her hands.

‘Joe gave it to me, but Nellie I want you to have it.'

‘I can't take it,' protested her sister, trying to hand it back to her. ‘Joe wanted you to have it.'

‘Nellie, you are to take it!' she insisted. ‘You may have far more need for it than I ever will.'

Wordlessly, Nellie nodded and slipped the revolver carefully into her own leather bag.

‘Take care of yourself!' Grace said, impulsively hugging her tight.

Nellie refused to admit or say anything and Grace watched as she turned right, walking briskly towards the tram stop for the city.

Grace dressed quickly. The Volunteers were bound to be involved in whatever was going on. She had a terrible feeling of dread that, despite still getting over his operation, Joe would want to play his part. He was that kind of man. Would he leave Mrs Quinn's to join them? She had to try to waylay him somehow and persuade him to stay out of whatever was being planned.

She was just ready to leave when her brother appeared, dressed jauntily in a smart suit and boater hat.

‘You look very handsome,' she teased.

‘I'm off to Fairyhouse races with a few of the pals. You are welcome to join us, Grace, if you want,' he offered politely.

‘No thanks, Liebert, I have no intention of cramping your style. But we can take the tram together into town if you like.'

The tram was already busy, with passengers waiting at every stop – off-duty soldiers enjoying the Bank Holiday Monday, likely going to meet their sweethearts; families with children and picnic baskets headed to the Phoenix Park. A few Volunteers in their uniform sat quietly talking together down the back. Pinpricks of alarm ran through Grace as she saw more groups of Volunteers awaiting the next tram and a group of youths in the uniform of Countess Markievicz's Fianna gathering near the canal.

‘Busy today,' murmured Liebert, unconcerned, as she sat there worrying, suspecting why the Volunteers were all converging on the city today.

They both got off at Sackville Street and said goodbye. Grace watched yet another group of Volunteers cross the street and casually stroll in the direction of Liberty Hall.

She went straight to Mrs Quinn's in Mountjoy Square, hoping that she would find Joe there. To her dismay, she discovered that, despite the protests and pleas of his doctor and nurses, he had discharged himself from the nursing home.

‘He was very weak, but he left with that big Cork fellow and another man,' one of the nurses told her.

Grace's heart sank. She had no idea what to do.

She called at the Metropole Hotel, where the lobby was full of British soldiers, many off duty and heading for the races. The desk clerk informed her quietly that Mr Plunkett had already checked out of his room and had taken a cab from the hotel door.