from

The Women of Easter Week

Cumann Na mBan in Stephen’s Green and the College of Surgeons

Written by Nora (Gillies) O’Daly

Contributed by Anthony J. Roche. ajroche@iol.ie

Easter Monday Morning

Easter Saturday was spent in completing all preparations for turning out first thing on Sunday morning. What then was our dismay and consternation when we saw the countermanding order the Sunday papers contained. We came to the conclusion that it was probably a hoax, designed for the purpose of causing confusion in the ranks and resolved to act as if it were a fact. I went to Father Matthew Park and there learned that the news was all too heartbreakingly true.

Comdt. Tom Hunter O/C Battn. 2 was at the Park and upon hearing my declaration that I refused to go home without orders from " our own Commandant" turned around and said "but I am your Commandant; I am in charge of Battn 2" I hadn’t the heart to tell him that I was very well aware of the fact, but that it was Commandant Molly Reynolds that I referred to.

After some further conversation I saw the uselessness of waiting around Father Matthew Park, and upon being assured that it was only a postponement I returned to our own house "Clunny" which was at the time a regular arsenal of bombs which had been made on the premises, dynamite, gelignite, rifles, bayonets, ammunition and what not.

A car ought to have called to the house to collect all these munitions of war, but the cancellation order upset these arrangements and the owner of the car had gone off in it to have a nice holiday in the country.

As I was finishing a tardy breakfast on Easter Monday morning two girls came to me with the long-looked-for Mobilisation Order, instructing me to call for two more of our members on route. Miss Bridget Murtagh and Miss May Moore. We were to report to the South side of Stephen’s Green without delay.

This order was duly carried out. A Pillar-bound tram was boarded, and when we arrived in O’Connell Street the G.P.O. had already been taken and we could hear the cheers of the newly arrived garrison. Feeling that matters were going ahead rapidly we boarded another car and found ourselves speedily at our post, but to our surprise and disappointment there was no sign of Battn. 2., which we fondly believed were to join us at this point. The Green was already in possession of a small number of the Citizen Army led by Comdt. Malin and Countess Markievicz.

In Stephen’s Green

After lingering around for some time in the hope of coming in touch with our contingent we entered the green and were met by Mme. Markievicz who said if we cared to "throw in our lot with theirs" we would be welcome, as they were rather short of First Aid. This we eventually did, as no other course seemed open to us, and after all we were fighting for the same cause.

I admit that I for one was disappointed in having to make that decision. Here all were strangers (Mme. Markievicz, of course, I had some acquaintance with) and somehow one cannot feel the same confidence in people previously unknown.

The Green, even to a mind untrained in military matters, looked a regular death-trap, and although I was quite to die to help to free Ireland, I saw no reason in doing so if I could help it before I had accomplished the purpose which had brought me hither, namely, to render all the assistance possible to the wounded and to save life wherever possible.

The idea of bloodshed had always been repugnant to me, although the sight of blood has no effect whatever on my nerves, but I considered England’s domination of this country immoral, built on a system of tyranny, favouritism, lying and fraud. In short I believed Ireland belonged to the Irish people, and was willing to go to any lengths in securing our separation, and set about my task with sublime self confidence and belief in my own capabilities – no wonder one smiles on looking back.

We were admitted to the Green by as well as I can recollect, a Capt. Poole, who upon learning our mission directed us to the little summer-house near the centre of the Green. Then we met for the first time with Miss Ffrench–Mullen, and I remember very distinctly how all my doubts and anxieties were dissipated in a moment when I caught sight of this plucky lady. I thought I had never seen a face so calculated to inspire confidence and trust. Honesty, bravery and a quiet confidence were plainly perceptible in her glance and expression. She welcomed us with joy and relief, and repeated the fact that they were rather short of First Aid assistance. We had our haversacks with us in which were a supply of iodine, bandages and such like indispensable articles.

All the time shots were ringing out from the various points in the city and we were told that the Shelbourne Hotel was occupied by British officers, who were using it as a position for sniping into the Green. Trenches were being dug inside the gate and reinforcements kept arriving in small numbers. We were told by someone that the party that took over the Green numbered 30.

A young lady that was accompanied by a British Flying officer was strolling through the Green and sat on a seat to watch proceedings at their leisure. The girl was told to go home, and her escort that to consider himself under arrest, but the fair maiden replied that they would wait until the manoeuvres were over, that it would not disturb them in the least and it was some time before we could persuade them that matters were serious.

During the course of the evening some prisoners were brought in. One a big military man, who was accompanied by some ladies, looked very aggrieved and when the order to search him was given his face was a study, his reason for the emotion was explained when an enormous wad of bank notes was pulled from his pocket, and his bewilderment was complete when they were immediately returned intact. This officer declared that he was a military doctor (which I doubted after he had expressed his opinion on a man whose arm was in a sling and being contradicted on all points said, "well this man is in pain anyway and should be in hospital"). He was released along with his companions owing to the lack of accommodation and effective guard, and very shortly after his exit from the scene the enemy got our range.

Other prisoners were Mr. L. Kettle and Mr. Ashmore, the latter a British Army Red Cross man, who acted very decently throughout. We had our first casualty that night a young chap named O’Brien having been shot in the neck, where the bullet apparently had lodged. He appeared to be suffering greatly and sinking fast. Our difficulty was that if we lit a lamp to examine our patient we would in all probability draw the enemy fire, so we decided to take him into the potting shed where we managed to attend to him, although we were very cramped for room. Having overcome the immediate danger he was removed to hospital to have the bullet extracted. Some civilians volunteered to carry the stretcher to and stepped forward for their burden saying "God bless the work". How wonderfully encouraging that short phrase was.

Monday night passed by some lying on the seats of the summer-house, the rest of us lay on the cold ground and strange to say a toothache I had suffered from for over a year left me that night never to return. I do not know to this day if I slept, but I remember laughing, in spite of myself at a girl named Bridie Goff, who kept making the most comical remarks anent the snipers who were disturbing her sleep.

On Tuesday morning came the order to evacuate the Green and get into the College of Surgeons. Women and girls were told to go first in batches of twos and threes and to get over the intervening ground as rapidly as possible. Bullets were flying everywhere and sending the gravel up in showers off the path. We managed to get to the College in safety however, and were amazed to find people out sightseeing, some of whom remarked, "Look at them running with no hats on them." Could this happen anywhere but in Dublin?