THE WEATHER WAS overcast when Nellie cycled into town on Easter Saturday to meet Margaret Skinnider, the young Scottish teacher, at Liberty Hall. Margaret had borrowed a bicycle from Nora Connolly, James’s daughter, and Michael Mallin had given Nellie a map with the area around St Stephen’s Green park and Leeson Street all marked out. Nellie wondered what was special about this area as the two of them set off, cycling through the city.
Margaret kept asking her questions all along the way, taking special note of side streets and laneways, walking up and down them, recording vacant premises, the rooflines and heights of buildings on the streets that they passed. They strolled around St Stephen’s Green itself, no one paying the slightest heed to them.
Nellie discovered that, even though Margaret was from Glasgow, both her parents were Irish and she always considered herself Irish.
‘I’m a member of the Glasgow branch of Cumann na mBan, which Countess Markievicz set up,’ Margaret told her proudly as they wheeled their bicycles along. ‘She’s a remarkable woman, an inspiration.’
‘Indeed she is!’ agreed Nellie. ‘She’s a stalwart of the Citizen Army and is one of the kindest women I know. She helped me with the Bureau. She is not at all what people expect, but is always set on fighting for justice and doing what she believes is right, no matter what people think of her.’
‘She brought me to Ash Street the last time I was over as I wanted to see the other side of Dublin. Glasgow is no perfect city, I admit, but, Nellie, I was appalled by the poverty and deprivation that I saw.’
‘That’s the great shame of Dublin,’ Nellie said angrily.
‘How do the authorities permit so many children and parents to live here in those terrible run-down tenement buildings, crowded together in one room with no sanitation?’
‘No one cares, but it has to change,’ Nellie nodded. ‘That’s what Jim Larkin and the union fought for, and what Mr Connolly and the countess and all of us believe and want – an Irish nation governed by its own people.’
‘That would be a fine thing.’
Nellie pointed out Harcourt Street station and the canal.
‘I joined a rifle club in Glasgow for good Scottish women who wanted to play their part in the defence of the British empire.’ Margaret laughed. ‘I kept going to it because the gun training was excellent. The other ladies didn’t care much for guns and shooting, but by the time it closed down I’d become a good markswoman, a sure shot.’
‘I’ve been trained to use a gun with the Citizen Army,’ said Nellie ruefully, ‘but I’m most definitely not a sure shot.’
‘The countess is a very fine markswoman,’ Margaret confided. ‘When she advised me of plans for a rebellion, I knew that the opportunity might come for me to be of assistance in the fight for nationalism.’
Nellie studied the earnest young mathematics teacher, her gentle and scholarly demeanour hiding her independent, feisty spirit and determination.
‘So every time I cross over here to Ireland I bring something special. I hid a few detonators under my hat the last time I came.’
‘Detonators!’ gasped Nellie. ‘Were you not terrified?’
‘I admit I was a bit afraid that something might spark if I was sitting in a cabin,’ she giggled, ‘so I sat out on the open deck in case I ignited or worse still, blew up!’
‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’ Nellie asked as they cycled back together in tandem to Liberty Hall.
‘A wee bit, but I volunteered to come over to Dublin because I want to be part of it all.’ She shrugged as they passed along the quays.
Liberty Hall was in a state of high excitement and preparation as Nellie and Margaret arrived back there. Men were busy polishing and oiling their guns, while the women were organizing food rations, with joints of meat being prepared, batches of scones and loaves of bread baked. Medical supplies and equipment were also being checked and packed for tomorrow.
James Connolly gave them last-minute orders to parade at 3.30 p.m. on Easter Sunday in full uniform at Liberty Hall, where they would join with the Volunteers.
People were in and out of the building and the air of expectation for the next day and what it would bring was palpable. Many of the men agreed to stay overnight while Nellie, like most of the women, headed home, excited about what tomorrow would bring.