NELLIE SLEPT BADLY, tossing and turning, anxious about the rebellion. Next morning she attended the Easter Sunday church service with Mother and her brother, praying silently that she and the other members of the Citizen Army were doing the right thing and that they would have the courage and resolve to begin the fight for Ireland’s independence.
She excused herself from Easter lunch, guiltily hugging Mother goodbye as she left for town. By the time she arrived at a crowded Liberty Hall she was filled with anticipation and excitement.
Groups of men in full uniform stood outside talking as the place began to fill.
However, as Nellie entered she discovered that an air of utter gloom and despondency hung over the place.
‘What has happened?’ she asked, stunned. ‘Have our plans been discovered?’
‘Everything has been cancelled,’ Rosie said angrily. ‘It’s all been called off because of the Volunteers.’
‘Cancelled? Why would they do such a thing?’
‘Eoin MacNeill, the head of the Volunteers, gave the orders last night to cancel the rebellion. He sent messengers across the country to all the branches, and wrote a notice to be printed in all the newspapers this morning, telling the Volunteers that there would be no manoeuvres for any of their members today. He’s gone and banjaxed the lot of us,’ she hissed.
Nellie could clearly see that large groups of Volunteers had still turned up and that they were equally baffled by their new orders.
‘They must not have seen the notices.’ Rosie shrugged as she handed Nellie the newspaper and pointed out the notice that Eoin MacNeill had placed in it cancelling all Volunteer manoeuvres planned for Easter Sunday.
‘Ina and I came down from Belfast to tell Father that the Volunteers up north had received the order too and were obeying it,’ Nora Connolly added dejectedly.
‘But why would MacNeill do this?’ Nellie asked as she read in the Sunday Independent that all orders given to the Irish Volunteers were rescinded and that no parades, marches or movements of Irish Volunteers would take place, with every Volunteer strictly ordered to obey.
‘A shipment of guns from Germany that the Volunteers were expecting was intercepted by the British down in Kerry,’ explained Helena Molony, who had come over to join them. ‘They’ve arrested Roger Casement on suspicion of organizing it, and to top it all two Volunteers sent to work the radio signals were killed in a motor-vehicle accident somewhere nearby.’
Nellie’s heart sank at hearing how many things had gone wrong. Calamity after calamity. It was a disaster.
‘MacNeill feared that it was far too risky to go ahead, as the British could well be aware of their plans,’ Helena continued under her breath, ‘but the countess and Tom Clarke and most of the others are furious and still want to go ahead with the Rising.’
Everyone stood around upset and confused, not knowing what was happening. The crowd was growing both inside and outside Liberty Hall, all prepared to join in the planned rebellion. What were they meant to do – return home?
Michael Mallin, William Partridge and the countess were in a huddle talking together, the countess loudly threatening to shoot Eoin MacNeill if she got her hands on him. Meanwhile all the members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood’s Military Council were upstairs in Room 7. It was clear from the raised voices that some kind of meeting was going on between the heads of the Citizen Army and the Volunteers in a desperate effort to try to resolve the situation. James Connolly, Padraig Pearse, Tom Clarke, Eamonn Ceannt, MacDonagh, Joe and Sean Mac Diarmada looked deadly serious when they finally emerged and went to talk to their captains and commandants. Everyone was on tenterhooks, anxiously watching and awaiting their decision.
Most could not hide their disappointment when they were told that the rebellion was postponed until tomorrow at midday, when everyone would assemble here again. They all knew in their hearts that now their numbers could be seriously depleted, and that they ran the risk of the Castle arresting them if they delved into why such a notice had appeared in the papers.
Michael Mallin’s wife, Agnes, came with her four children to see her husband briefly before he left. She was a pretty woman and was naturally anxious: she clearly knew what was happening today and wanted to spend a few precious minutes with her husband. Nellie, suspecting that Agnes was in the family way again, made sure to get her a chair and the two of them talked together quietly.
A few hours later James Connolly assembled a large group of them. It was clear that he was absolutely furious about the change of orders.
‘The Citizen Army does not have to obey Mr MacNeill’s order,’ he told them angrily, ‘so get ready to move out on a route march.’
He and Commandant Mallin led them off, marching across Butt Bridge, along College Green, up Grafton Street and around by the park where Nellie had brought Margaret yesterday. Eighteen-year-old bugler William Oman was instructed to sound his bugle in front of certain key places on the route as they headed along York Street and down George’s Street to Dame Street and Sackville Street, the very centre of Dublin city. Nellie found herself taking particular notice of where they went. The crowds around ignored them.
Returning to Liberty Hall, they prepared tea for everyone. Usually on Sundays a very popular concert was held here and it was decided to carry on with it as normal so as not to arouse suspicions. As Nellie listened to the singing and piano playing it seemed so strange that tomorrow they would all go out together. Michael Mallin played his flute, his music touching the audience as he gazed around the crowded hall.
The men of the Citizen Army had been ordered to sleep the night there, but the women had been told they were not to stay, so Nellie, yawning, slipped out of the union building and went home.