Rebel Sisters (7 page)

‘At the Slade there are some of the finest art teachers in the world. I promise you, Miss Gifford, it's a wonderful place for a young artist of your calibre to learn and to develop your techniques.'

Grace thanked him, but was very unsure about Father and Mother even entertaining a proposal that she study in London.

Attending the Nine Arts Ball in the Metropole Hotel at the end of her final term, Grace and her friends were dressed in Spanish costumes, with painted fans, mantillas, high combs in their hair and swirling red, black and white dresses. Other girls came as witches and demons, and her male classmates, dressed as hairy cavemen, dashing musketeers and Roman centurions, pulled them all up to dance as the band played its heart out. The noise level was high and, dancing with her friends, they all laughed and joked and made promises to keep in touch with each other as the music played on long into the night.

At the School of Art's annual prizegiving Grace was proud to receive the award for ‘Drawing on the Blackboard and Model Drawing' from Lady Aberdeen, who enquired about her plans, shook her hand and wished her well in her future art career.

‘What did you say to her?' Mother asked.

‘I told her of my intention to study at London's Slade School of Art,' replied Grace defiantly.

Mother said nothing, refusing to be drawn into a discussion on the matter.

‘The Aberdeens will be kept busy this summer with King Edward VII's visit here in July,' she said, changing the subject. ‘He has been invited to visit the Irish International Exhibition which has just opened in Ballsbridge.'

Grace said no more, but was determined that she would somehow persuade her parents to let her attend the Slade. She had the long weeks of summer ahead to convince them.

Taking a final look around the art studios and lecture halls of the Metropolitan School of Art on her last day, and saying goodbye to her lecturers and all the friends she had made there, Grace felt close to tears.

NELLIE JOINED THE
large crowds streaming from the packed tram towards the domed entrance of the Irish International Exhibition in Ballsbridge, she and her sisters growing more excited as the tall, Italian-style colonnades and pinnacles came into view. Father, generous as ever, paid for their tickets as the Gifford family passed through the entrance with its high arch and made their way towards the enormous concert hall and array of restaurants that could seat thousands.

The exhibition had already been deemed a great success, and King Edward and Queen Alexandra on their visit to Dublin earlier in July had declared it a wondrous place to enjoy.

‘How lovely it all is,' declared Mother as she stood to take in the spectacle, looking around approvingly at ladies in their finest style, a cascade of pastel-coloured summer dresses and wide-brimmed hats, gentlemen attired in suits, hats and boaters, children's eyes agog with all the delights and amusements in store. It was all so glorious, and Nellie couldn't wait to explore the exhibitions, halls and the large amusement park, including the highest water chute in the world which she was very determined to try.

First of all Father was keen to visit the Palace of Mechanical Arts – the area of innovation and industry, which was filled with all kinds of new mechanical inventions. Nellie and Gabriel accompanied him, as they too were attracted to the range of beautiful new automobiles on display. Father climbed into one of them and Nellie sat beside him in the polished black and wine-coloured vehicle. He examined everything carefully, testing the steering wheel and the horn. He then stepped out and, intrigued, peered at the motor's engine and its wheels and tyres.

‘What an absolutely fascinating piece of machinery!' he enthused. Nellie could see that he was enthralled and she smiled as he interrogated the eager motor-car salesman about the speed, fuel, stopping and weatherproof abilities of such a vehicle. The two of them were deep in conversation for a long time before he finally returned to her side.

‘Father, are you considering buying an automobile?' she asked, admiring the gleaming metal paintwork, the polished silver and beautiful seats. ‘It would be wonderful for you to own such a vehicle and you could drive it all over the place.'

‘I fear I'm too old to learn to drive,' Father admitted rather sadly.

‘Then Gabriel and I could learn,' she offered excitedly. ‘We could drive you and Mother to all the places you want to visit or see. Dr Mitchell took delivery of a lovely new black motor car six weeks ago and I heard that Mr Hughes on the far end of Palmerston Road has got one.'

‘I would worry about accidents if half of Dublin were cavorting themselves around in these vehicles.'

Why did Father have to be such an old stick-in-the-mud? If she ever wanted to drive a motor car like this, Nellie suspected that she would have to earn the money to purchase it herself.

She and Gabriel tested out new telephone equipment, wireless radios, typewriters and gramophones. Father read all the pages of detailed information about these new products and designs as earnest young men patiently explained the way they worked and were used. She and her brother tried to persuade him of the advantages of having the telephone service in their house.

‘For the office, perhaps, but what use would we have at home for such unnecessary equipment?'

It was clear to Nellie and Gabriel that they were witnessing an exciting era of new machines and inventions of which Father and his generation were not a part.

She joined Grace and Ada in the huge Palace of Industries with its arts and craft section where there was a great array of paintings and sculpture on view, including works by Father's friend John B. Yeats and by Grace's tutor William Orpen. Mother was fascinated by the displays of exquisite lace and embroidery, and the silver-and glasswork.

Down by the lake Nellie, Grace and Sidney decided to hire a small swan boat. It was bliss listening to the open-air concert, given by a fine orchestra, as they rowed around the central lake in the sunshine.

Afterwards Mother insisted that they view the Somali Village, where a group of native Somali men and women, who wore hardly any clothing, went about their daily African village routine, lighting fires with sticks and cow dung as large crowds gathered to watch them.

‘They must find it so chilly here compared to their own warm land,' observed Mother.

‘Those poor people must feel like monkeys in the zoo with everyone gawping at them!' retorted Sidney angrily as the Somali women began to sing, their strange African music filling the air.

‘Lady Aberdeen has a wonderful stand with a display on tuberculosis and its management which we all should visit,' Mother announced. Father and Gabriel beat a hasty retreat in the other direction, but the rest accompanied her to the display.

‘It is a scourge, a very scourge!' Mother reminded them as they studied the information and figures on tuberculosis, which was endemic in Dublin and throughout the country. Muriel had a special interest in Lady Aberdeen's display as she had recently applied to train as a probationer nurse in Sir Patrick Dun's Hospital and hoped to be offered a place there.

‘What if you have patients with this awful disease?' worried Mother, who had made no secret of her opposition to Muriel studying nursing.

As they were all beginning to tire, Father suggested they take a seat in the open-air tea-rooms, where they enjoyed tall dishes piled high with Italian glacé ice-cream flavoured with almonds, cherries and chocolate while they took their ease and considered their illustrated programmes.

‘Now I understand why the king was so impressed,' Father said proudly as they looked around at the vast acres of the exhibits. ‘It is no wonder that he wanted to reward Mr William Martin Murphy with a knighthood for all his good work organizing this spectacle.'

‘God bless the king,' interjected Gabriel, laughing, ‘but he must have got a bit of a shock when he produced his sword to knight Mr Murphy and he politely declined.'

‘The man is an absolute disgrace, not only to insult the king but also to cause such embarrassment during the royal visit,' declared Mother angrily.

Nellie wondered why on earth Mr Murphy, one of Dublin's most powerful citizens, who not only owned the Dublin Tram Company but also Independent Newspapers and was the driving force behind this exhibition of modern industry and innovation, would refuse such a royal honour.

‘Perhaps he sets no store by a British or royal title,' she suggested.

‘Sir Murphy … Lord William Murphy …' giggled Sidney. ‘Why, it doesn't even sound right!'

‘Well, title or not, Mr Murphy and his fellow organizers deserve huge credit for the planning of this magnificent event,' said Father as a waiter cleared their table. ‘So let us go and see more of the many amusements on offer.'

Nellie and her sisters joined the enormous queue for the famous Giant Water Chute, which towered above them into the sky. Muriel gripped her hand as their painted boat was raised up and up, climbing an alarming height to the top of the steep chute. The two of them screamed madly as they were suddenly pitched downwards in a terrifying, soaking plunge into the splashing water below. It left them gasping and laughing and wet, but longing to do it all over again.

They went on the helter-skelter, the swing boats, the big carousel, and watched a hilarious Punch and Judy show. Nellie had also noticed a tantalizing hot-air balloon floating high in the sky and persuaded her sisters to come along to see it. The balloon itself was enormous and seemed to wobble and move in the air, a fierce gushing sound emanating from it every now and then as a gas burner heated the air that filled it. There was also a large wicker basket attached to the balloon and the man who owned it would permit a few people to clamber in, and then release the hot-air-filled balloon to fly upwards into the sky.

Nellie watched entranced as it lifted off, climbing higher and higher above their heads, the passengers in their basket seeming almost to disappear. However, the huge balloon was tethered and anchored firmly to the ground to stop it from floating away. It was the most thrilling thing she had ever seen and she just knew she had to try it.

Eventually their turn came. Nellie paid for her sisters to come with her and they all climbed in. She was shaking with nerves as the basket began to wobble and tilt. Suddenly it lifted as the balloon filled and moved upwards, the basket lurching off the ground as they went higher and higher. She held on to her hat as she felt the wind catch it, and looking down below she could see the heads of people, the lake and the carousel all becoming more and more distant.

Afraid, Muriel had clenched her eyes tightly shut.

‘Open them,' Nellie urged her sister, feeling giddy and excited. ‘Look around – it is amazing. We are flying, like birds high in the sky, like the aviator Mr Wright and his brother.'

Far below she could see the roads of the city and the churches, Sandymount Strand and Dublin Bay, with a few sailing boats bobbing in the waves. Nellie dearly wished that she could stay up here for ever, that the balloon would slip its anchor ropes so they could fly away across the blue, blue sky …

Ten minutes later the hot-air balloon began to descend. Disappointed, Nellie took a firm grip on the basket as the exhibition and visitors all came gradually back into focus and they landed with a thud where they had started.

Her legs felt weak, but she would have adored to have gone straight back up again.

Father, to their surprise, had booked a large table in the Palace Restaurant so they could dine in fine style before attending that night's concert.

‘It is all so beautiful here,' sighed Mother, looking dreamily around her, ‘but what will happen when the exhibition ends in November?'

‘The Earl of Pembroke gave this land to the council to honour his son Herbert's coming of age, and some say that in the future it may become a public park,' said Father.

As the sky grew dark and night fell, they watched thousands of lights illuminate the Italianate terraces and the palaces and lake, and Nellie vowed to return to visit the wonderful exhibition again.

MURIEL SAT NERVOUSLY
awaiting her turn to be interviewed by the lady superintendent in charge of Sir Patrick Dun's Nursing School. Miss Haughton had a formidable reputation and was said to be ruthless in weeding out those she considered unsuitable to train as probationers in the hospital.

This interview was hugely important to Muriel – she had her heart set on becoming a nurse. She was growing tired of assisting Mother with her church work, and was bored attending the rounds of teas, lunches, balls and other engagements that filled an unmarried young lady's social calendar. She had always considered nursing a fine profession and now that she was twenty-one she was finally old enough to apply for the nursing school here at Sir Patrick Dun's.

Suddenly the heavy wooden door opened and a tall girl emerged, looking red-faced and flustered. Muriel wished she could ask her about the interview, but suddenly her own name was called.

Miss Haughton sat upright at a big mahogany desk in front of a bookcase lined with an array of medical texts. She was smaller than Muriel had expected. On the far wall was a plaque from Guy's Hospital in London where she had trained.

‘So you want to be a nurse?' she began, her bright eyes inquisitive.

‘Yes,' stammered Muriel. ‘I've wanted to train as a nurse for years. I—'

‘Do tell me why,' said the other woman firmly. ‘It is the obvious question, given the long hours and punishing work most of my nurses must learn to accept.'

Muriel had planned to say that she would find nursing patients both interesting and rewarding, but instead, strangely, she found herself talking about Gerald.

‘My brother died when I was only sixteen,' she said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘The doctor told us that he had a brain infection. It was hopeless, although everyone did everything they could to try to save him. Nothing could be done. He was well one day and dying a day later … how could that be?'