Part 1

Chapter 14,208 wordsPublic domain

[Frontispiece: JAMES CONNOLLY]

THE

IRISH REBELLION _of_ 1916

THE UNBROKEN TRADITION

NORA CONNOLLY

BONI AND LIVERIGHT NEW YORK

By Boni & Liveright, Inc.

_Printed in the United States of America_

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

James Connolly ...... Frontispiece

Countess Markievietz

Thomas J. Clarke

The Proclamation of the Provisional Government issued at the G.P.O. on Monday, April 24, 1917

John McDermott

Nora Connolly

Liberty Hall

Joseph Plunkett

Thomas Macdonagh

Eoin MacNeill

Patrick H. Pearse

Eamonn Ceannt

MAPS

The Journey from Belfast to Leek

The Journey from Dundalk to Dublin

Map of Dublin

{vii}

INTRODUCTION

There have been many attempts to explain the revolution which took place in Ireland during Easter Week, 1916. And all of them give different reasons. Some have it that it was caused by the resentment that grew out of the Dublin Strike of 1912-13; others, that it was the threatened Ulster rebellion, and there are many other equally wrong explanations. All these writers ignore the main fact that the Revolution was caused by the English occupation of Ireland.

So many people not conversant with Irish affairs ask: Why a revolution? Why was it necessary to appeal to arms? Why was it necessary to risk death and imprisonment for the self-government of Ireland? They say that there was already in existence an Act for the Self-government of Ireland, that it had been passed through the English House of Commons, and that if we had waited till the end of the war we would have been given an opportunity to govern ourselves. That they are not {viii} conversant with Irish affairs must be their excuse for thinking in that manner of our struggle for freedom.

To be able to think and to speak thus one must first recognize the right of the English to govern Ireland, for only by so doing can we logically accept any measure of self-government from England.

And we cannot do so, for, as a nation Ireland has never recognized England as her conqueror, but as her antagonist, as an enemy that must be fought. And this attitude has succeeded in keeping the soul of Ireland alive and free.

For the conquest of a nation is never complete till its soul submits, and the submission of the soul of a nation to the conqueror makes its slavery and subjection more sure. But the soul of Ireland has never submitted. And sometimes when the struggle seemed hopeless, and sacrifice useless, and there was thought to make truce with the foe, the voice of the soul of Ireland spoke and urged the nation once more to resist. And the voice of the soul of Ireland has the clangor of battle.

There have been many attempts to drown the voice of the soul of Ireland ever since the {ix} coming of the English into our country. There have been some who have had the God-given gift of leadership, but still sought to misinterpret the sound of the voice; who in shutting their ears to the call for battle have helped to fasten the shackles of slavery more securely on their country.

There was Daniel O'Connell who possessed the divine gift of leadership and oratory, and in whose tones the people recognized the voice of Ireland and flocked around him. During the agitation for the Repeal of the union between Ireland and England the people followed O'Connell and waited for him to give the word. Never for one moment did they believe that the movement was merely a constitutional one. Sensibly enough they knew that speeches, meetings and cheers would never win for them the freedom of their country. They knew that force alone would compel England to forego her hold upon any of her possessions.

So that when in 1844 O'Connell sent out the call bidding all the people of Ireland to muster at Clontarf, outside Dublin, they believed that the day had come, and from North, South, East and West they started on the journey. Those {x} who lived in the West and South traveled the distance in all sorts of conveyances, many of them, especially the poorer ones, walked the distance; but the trouble, the weariness, the hardship were all ignored by them in the knowledge that they were once more mustering to do battle for the freedom of their country.

But in the meantime, while the people were making all speed to obey the summons of O'Connell, the meeting had been proclaimed by the British Government; and the place of muster was lined with regiments of soldiers with artillery with orders to mow down the people if they attempted to approach the meeting place. Then it was that O'Connell failed the people of Ireland, and rung the knell for the belief of the Irish people in constitutionalism. He said, "All the freedom in the world is not worth one drop of human blood," and commanded the people to obey the order of the British Government and to return to their homes.

There are many pitiful, heart-breaking stories told of the manner in which this command of O'Connell reached the people. Many who had walked miles upon miles reached the outskirts of Dublin only to meet the people {xi} pouring out of it. When in return to their questions they were told that it was the request of O'Connell that they return to their homes, the heart within them broke for they knew that their idol had failed them, and their hopes of freeing Ireland were shattered.

Within the Repeal Association there was another organization called the Young Irelanders, which published a paper called _The Nation_. This paper was an immense factor in arousing and keeping alive a firm nationalist opinion in Ireland. The Young Irelanders were revolutionists, and by their writings counseled the people to adopt military uniforms, to study military tactics, to march to and from the meetings in military order. They made no secret of their belief that the freedom of Ireland must be won by force of arms.

During the famine in 1847, when the people were dying by the hundreds, although there was enough food to feed them, the Young Irelanders worked untiringly to save the people. At that time potatoes were the staple food of the people, everything else they raised, corn, pigs, cattle, etc., had to be sold to pay the terrible rackrents. The Young Irelanders called upon the people to keep the food in the country {xii} and save themselves; but day by day more food was shipped from the starving country to England; there to be turned into money to pay the grasping landlords. It was during this time that John Mitchell was arrested and transported for life to Van Diemen's land.

In 1848 there was an ill-fated attempt at insurrection. Even in the midst of famine and death, with the people dying daily by the roadside, there was still the belief that only by an appeal to force and arms could anything be wrung from England. In Tipperary, under Smith O'Brien, the attempt was made, more as a protest then, for famine, death, and misery had thinned the ranks, than with any hopes of winning anything. Most of the leaders were soon arrested and four of them were sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; but this sentence was afterwards commuted to life imprisonment.

For many years after the famine the people were quiescent, and had grown quite uncaring about Parliamentary representation. And then was formed a revolutionary secret society calling itself the Fenians. The members of this organization were pledged to work for, and, when the time came, to fight for and }xiii} establish, an Irish Republic. James Stephens was the chief organizer. The organization spread through Ireland like wildfire. Even the English Army and Navy were honeycombed with it. Every means possible were taken by the English to cope with this new revolutionary movement--but they failed. The organization decided that a Rising would take place in February, 1867. This was later postponed; but unfortunately the word did not reach the South in time and Kerry rose. The word spread over Ireland that Kerry was up in arms. Measures were taken by the English to meet the insurrectionists, but before they reached the South the men had learned that the date of the rising had been postponed and had returned to their homes. Luby, O'Leary, Kickham, and O'Donovan Rossa were arrested. Still the Rising took place on the appointed date, although doomed to failure owing to the crippling of the organization by the arrest of its leaders, and the lack of arms. Even the elements were against the revolutionists, for a snowstorm, heavier than any of the oldest could remember having seen, fell and covered the country in great drifts.

They failed. But the teaching of the {xiv} Fenians and the organization they founded are alive to-day. It was the members of this organization that first started the Irish Volunteers. Ever on the watch for a ripe moment to come out and work openly, ever longing for the day when military instruction could be given to the nationalist youth, they seized upon the fact that if the Ulster Volunteers were permitted to drill and arm themselves to fight the English Government so could they. And in November, 1913, they called a meeting in the Rotunda, Dublin, and invited the men and women of Ireland to join the Irish Volunteers, and pledge themselves "to maintain and secure the rights and liberties common to all the people of Ireland."

So once more the people of Ireland heard the call to arms, and right royally they answered it. The Irish Volunteer Organization spread throughout the land, and the youth of Ireland were being trained in the art of soldiering.

Then it was that, like Daniel O'Connell and other constitutional leaders, Redmond proved himself of the body and not the soul of Ireland. He did not follow the example of Parnell, whose follower he was supposed to be, and use the threat of this large physical force party to {xv} gain his ends from the English Government. Parnell used to say to the British House of Commons: "If you do not listen to me, there is a large band of physical force men, with whom I have no influence, and upon whom I have no control, and _they_ will compel you to listen to them." But Redmond, jealous of all parties outside his own (knowing well that when an Irishman had a rifle in his hands he no longer felt subservient to, or feared England; and that when the people of Ireland had the means to demand the freedom of their country they grew impatient of speech-making and petitioning), grew fearful for the loss of power of the Irish Parliamentary Party.

He knew also, that, as in the days of O'Connell, Butt, and Parnell, the people firmly believed that all the talk and show of constitutionalism was a blind, merely a throwing of dust in the eyes of the English Government, and to save himself and his Party he must approve this physical Force party. But not content with approval he needs must try to capture the Irish Volunteers. This attempt, I firmly believe, was made upon the advice, or the command of the British Government. He sent a demand to the Executive Committee {xvi} that a number of his appointees be received upon the Committee. This would enable him to know and obstruct all measures made by the Irish Volunteers and would prevent the loss of power of the Parliamentary Party.

By the votes of a small majority of the Committee these appointees were accepted. But the Committee soon found out that it was impossible to arm and prepare men for a revolution against a government, while the paid servants of that government were amongst them. They decided to part company even at the risk of a division in the ranks. They knew that every man who remained with them could be depended upon to do his part when the time for the Rising came.

Then England went to war. Shortly before this a Home Rule Bill had passed two readings in the House of Commons. England saw the stupidity of appealing to Irishmen to go to fight for the freedom of small nationalities, while any measure of freedom was denied to their own. So the Home Rule Bill passed the final reading in the House of Commons, and was put upon the Statute Book. Then fearful of the dissatisfaction of the Unionists an amendment was tacked on {xvii} that prevented its going into effect until after the war.

John Redmond dealt the final blow to his influence upon Ireland when he began to recruit for the English Army. Many of his followers, taking his word that Home Rule was now a fact entered the English Army at his request. They were, in the main, young, foolish, and ignorant fellows unable to analyze the Bill for themselves, and therefore could not know that the so-called Home Rule was a farce. They did not know that the Bill gave them no power over the revenue, over the Post Office, over the Royal Irish Constabulary, that they could not raise an army, or impose a tax, and that no law passed by the Irish Parliament could go into effect until the English House of Commons had given its approval. It was like telling a prisoner that he was free and keeping him in durance.

And from the beginning of the war the Irish Volunteers spent all the time they could in intensive drilling, not knowing at what time their hand might be forced, or the opportune moment for the Rising might arrive.

For in Ireland we have the unbroken tradition of struggle for our freedom. Every {xviii} generation has seen blood spilt, and sacrifice cheerfully made that the tradition might live.

Our songs call us to battle, or mourn the lost struggle; our stories are of glorious victory and glorious defeat. And it is through them the tradition has been handed down till an Irish man or woman has no greater dream of glory than that of dying

"A Soldier's death so Ireland's free."

{1}

THE IRISH REBELLION OF 1916

THE UNBROKEN TRADITION

My first mingling with an actively, openly drilling revolutionary body took place during the Dublin strike of 1912-1913. I was living in Belfast then and had come to Dublin to see how things were managed, how the food was being distributed and the kitchens run; and, in fact, to feel the spirit of the people.

James Connolly, my father, was at that time in Dublin assisting James Larkin to direct the strike. He was my pilot. Liberty Hall, the headquarters of the Irish Transport and General Workers Union, the members of which were on strike, was first visited. It is situated on Beresford Place facing the Custom House and the River Liffey. In the early part of the nineteenth century it had been a Chop House. Almost from the big front door a wide staircase starts. It ends at the second story. From there it branches out into {2} innumerable corridors thickly studded with doors. It took me a long time to master those corridors. Always I seemed to be finding new ones. Downstairs on the first floor were the theater and billiard rooms; and below them were the kitchens. During the strike these kitchens were used to prepare food for the strikers. It was to the kitchens my father first piloted me.

Here the Countess de Markieviez reigned supreme--all meals were prepared under her direction. There were big tubs on the floor; around each were about half a dozen girls peeling potatoes and other vegetables. There were more girls at tables cutting up meat. The Countess kept up a steady march around the boilers as she supervised the cooking. She took me to another kitchen where more delicate food was being prepared for nursing and expectant mothers.

"We used to give the food out at first," she said. "But in almost every case we found that it had been divided amongst the family. Now we have the women come here to eat. We are sure then that they are getting something sufficiently nourishing to keep up their strength." She showed me a hall with a long table in the {3} center and chairs around it. As it was near the "Mothers' dinner hour," as the girls called it, some of the striking women and girls were there to act as waitresses.

We came to the clothing shop next. Some persons had caught the idea of sending warm clothing for the wives and children of the strikers; accordingly one of the rooms of Liberty Hall was turned into an alteration room. Several women and girls were working from morning to night altering the clothes to fit the applicants. One of the girls said to me, "It was a wonder to us at first the number of strikers who had extra large families, until we found out that in many cases their wives had adopted a youngster or two for the day, and brought them along to get clothed." Not strictly honest, perhaps, but how human to wish to share their little bit of good fortune with those not so fortunate as themselves. How many little boys and girls knew for the first time in their lives the feel of warm stockings and shoes, and how many little girls had the delicious thrill of getting a new dress fitted on.

Thence to Croyden Park. Some time before the strike this immensely big place had {4} been taken over by the Union. I do not know how large it was but there were fields and fields, and long pathways edged with trees. It was used by the members as a football ground and for hurley and all sorts of sports and games. But this time the fields were ringed round with men and women watching the rows and rows of strikers who were in the fields, marching now to the right, now to the left at the commands of Captain White, who stood in the center, a tall soldierly figure blowing a whistle and gesticulating with great fervor.

Back and forth, right and left they marched with never a moment's rest; then round and round the fields they ran at the double; the Captain now at the head, now at the rear, now in the center shouting commands incessantly, sparing himself no more than the men. I remember once he stopped beside my father and myself; he was in a terrible rage, his hands were clenched and he was fairly gnashing his teeth. He had given a signal to one of the columns and they had misinterpreted it.

"Easy now, Captain," said my father, "remember they are only volunteers." Captain White turned like a flash.

"Yes," he said. "And aren't they great?" {5} And he forgot his rage in his admiration of the men of a few weeks' training. He gave an order, the men marched past and at a given place they received broom handles with which they practiced rifle drill.

After rifle drill came the line up for the march home. We waited till the last row was filing past and then fell in and marched back to the city with the Irish Citizen Army. It was exhilarating. At no period could I see the first part of the Army. The men and boys were whistling tunes to serve them in lieu of bands. On they swung to Beresford Place, where they lined up in front of Liberty Hall. Jim Larkin and my father spoke to them from the windows. When one man called out, "We'll stick by you to the end," he was loudly and heartily cheered. Captain White gave the order of dismissal and the men broke ranks but did not go away. When they were not drilling, or sleeping, or eating, they thronged round Liberty Hall, attesting that "where the heart lieth there turneth the feet."

When the strike was over and the men had won the right to organize, the membership of the Irish Citizen Army dwindled rapidly. When one takes into consideration the arduous {6} work and the long hours that comprised the daily round of these men, the wonder was that there were so many of them willing to meet after working hours to be drilled into perfect soldiers. But they knew that by so doing they were, in the words of my father, "signifying their adhesion to the principle that the freedom of a people must in the last analysis rest in the hands of that people--that there is no outside force capable of enforcing slavery upon a people really resolved to be free, and valuing freedom more than life." Also that "The Irish Citizen Army in its constitution pledges its members to fight for a Republican Freedom in Ireland. Its members are, therefore, of the number who believe that at the call of duty they may have to lay down their lives for Ireland, and have so trained themselves that at the worst the laying down of their lives shall constitute the starting point of another glorious tradition--a tradition that will keep alive the soul of the nation." And this was the knowledge that lightened all the labor of drilling and soldiering.

I was present at a lecture given to them by their Commandant, James Connolly. It was on the art of street fighting. I remember the {7} close attention every man paid to the lecture and the interest they displayed in the diagrams drawn on the board the better to explain his meaning. At the close of the lecture he asked, "Are there any questions?" There were many questions, all of them to the effect, whether it would not be better to do it this way, or could we not get better results that way. All in deadly earnestness, thinking only on how the best results might be achieved and not one man commenting on the danger to life the acts would surely entail. That one would have to risk death was taken for granted. Their one thought was how to get the most work done before death came.

A few months later there were maneuvers between one company of the Irish Citizen Army and a company of the Irish Volunteers. The Irish Volunteers had been formed after the Irish Citizen Army and by this time had spread over the length and breadth of Ireland. While the Irish Citizen Army admitted none but union men the Irish Volunteers made no such distinction. And as they both had the one ideal of a Republican Ireland there was much friendly rivalry between the two bodies. This time the maneuvers took the form of a {8} sham battle, which took place at Ticknock about six miles outside of Dublin. The Irish Citizen Army won the day. I particularly remember that afternoon. My father came into the house, tired but pleasantly excited--he had been an onlooker at the sham battle. "I've discovered a great military man," he said in high glee. "The way he handled his men positively amounted to genius. Do you know him--his name is Mallin?"

I did not know him then. I met him later when he was my father's Chief of Staff. During the rising he was Commandant in charge of the St. Stephen's Green Division of the Army of the Irish Republic, and he was executed during that dreadful time following the surrender of the Irish Republican Army.

{9}

During the month of July, 1914, I was camping out on the Dublin mountains. The annual convention of Na Fianna Eireann (Irish National Boy Scouts) had just been held, and I was a delegate to it from the Belfast Girls' Branch, of which I was the president. On the Sunday following the convention we were still camping out; but were suffering all the discomforts of blowy, rainy, stormy weather. Madame (the Countess de Markievicz) had a cottage beside the field where we were encamped, and it was thronged with us all that Sunday. Nothing would tempt us out in the field that night, and we kept putting off the retiring time, hour by hour, till it was nearly twelve o'clock. At that time we had just taken our courage in both hands, and were forcing ourselves to go out to our tents. We were standing near the door with our bedding in our arms when some of the Fianna boys halloed from outside. We {10} gladly opened the door--another excuse for putting off the evil moment--and about half a dozen boys came in to the cottage. They were in great spirits, although they had tramped some miles in the rain, and exhibited strange looking clubs to our curious eyes.

"Guess what we've been doing to-day, Madame," they said, but with an expression on their faces which said, "you'll never guess."

"It's too much trouble to guess," said Madame. "Tell us what it was and we will know all the quicker."

"We've been helping to run in three thousand rifles."

"Rifles--where--quick--tell me all about it. Quick."

"At Howth. But did you hear nothing about it?"