IN JUNE FIREWORKS and bonfires lit up the skies in Dublin and all across the empire to celebrate the official coronation of the new king, George V, who had succeeded his father, the late King Edward VII, on the British throne. Plans for a visit by King George to Ireland later in the summer to meet his loyal subjects had already been announced.
MacDonagh confided in Muriel as they strolled along by the canal that he and his friends Padraig, Eamonn Ceannt and Sean Mac Diarmada were set on organizing a nationalist protest against the king’s visit and Dublin Corporation’s plan to make an official Loyal Address on behalf of his subjects to offer allegiance to him as it would not represent the growing nationalist view of the monarchy.
She and her sisters soon found themselves involved too, as Countess Markievicz and Helena Molony urged members of the Daughters of Ireland to join the massive demonstration to be held in Beresford Place.
‘We are not King George’s subjects and the Lord Mayor and his councillors do not speak for us or represent the opinion of Irish nationalists,’ they declared fiercely to the crowd.
Countess Markievicz had hung a large banner proclaiming ‘Dear Land, Thou art not conquered yet’ across the bottom of Grafton Street, but the Dublin Metropolitan Police had quickly taken it down.
Thousands crowded on to the street, everyone pushing, shoving and shouting. Muriel was afraid she would be knocked off her feet as the crowds gathered to listen to speakers express their opposition to the visit of the new British king. She, Grace and John handed out leaflets that Helena had printed up.
Countess Markievicz defiantly attempted to set fire to the Union flag, which she had stolen from Leinster House, and Helena was arrested and imprisoned for throwing stones at a giant illuminated picture of the king and queen and for publicly calling the king ‘a scoundrel’.
The demonstrations continued over the next few days and, surrounded by police, Muriel and her sisters protested outside City Hall as the city councillors tried to enter the building. Skirmishes and fighting broke out as nationalists demanded that Dublin Corporation cancel any plans for an official Loyal Address to the king.
MacDonagh teased her unmercifully when the newspaper reports mentioned ‘the Gifford sisters looking like a musical comedy in their pretty pale linen dresses as they attended the demonstration’.
‘What will Mother say if she reads it?’ fretted Muriel.
‘Mother would never read such a nationalist paper,’ John assured her.
In July King George V arrived in Ireland, the sun blazing as the royal party’s yacht sailed into Kingstown and anchored. The streets of the seaside town and the roads into Dublin were bedecked with bright-coloured bunting and flags, flowers and Venetian poles to celebrate the royal visit of King George V, Queen Mary and their children, Prince Edward and Princess Mary. A national holiday had been declared for 8 July and thousands of people began to line the route from early morning to welcome the king.
Muriel, Grace and John dressed quickly and carried bundles of freshly printed protest leaflets to distribute among the crowds all along the route that the royal party would take.
‘I am pleased to see you girls making the effort to see our new king,’ beamed Mother as they prepared to leave. ‘I’m not able for such standing, but I look forward to hearing of the royal visit on your return.’
Muriel felt guilty at their subterfuge, but their mother had no idea of the circles they now moved in.
She had never seen such crowds. Thousands of Dubliners lined the coast road all the way from the pretty harbour town of Kingstown towards the city. Men attired in blazers and straw boaters, women in their white summer dresses and hats, children in light pinafores and short trousers – everyone was in holiday mood, cheering and waving flags to welcome the royal visitors. Many had brought picnics and sandwiches as they patiently waited to watch the procession of carriages escorted by the 5th Royal Irish Lancers pass before them on their journey into the city and up to the Phoenix Park.
Muriel was glad of her hat, for the sun beat down on them as they moved along distributing their leaflets. A loud cheer went up as the royal procession approached. King George waved grandly from his carriage and everyone pressed forward, determined to get a glimpse of the monarch and his entourage. As she handed out her leaflets most people did not even bother to read them, but simply tossed them away, presuming that they were suffragettes.
Her feet ached by the time they returned home. Mother and Father were both eager to hear every little detail about the royal party and the welcome the king had received. Muriel could not deny that the visit was an enormous success, for the people of Dublin had certainly taken their new monarch to their hearts.
Their only consolation was that, at the last hour, Dublin Corporation had reconsidered and cancelled the Lord Mayor’s Loyal Address to His Majesty.
‘A small victory, but a victory none the less.’ MacDonagh looked pleased when they met later that summer’s evening to stroll by the canal.