ISABELLA ADJUSTED HER hat as she got ready to leave the house on Tuesday. She was meeting Dorothy for lunch but had a few things she must do first. She needed skeins of embroidery thread and ribbon, new stockings, a bottle of syrup of figs and some corn plasters from the pharmacy.
Liebert had just arrived downstairs and was asking Julia to cook him some bacon and kidney.
‘I won’t be home for lunch,’ she reminded her, ‘as I am going into town.’
‘Mother, I’m not sure you should venture into town today. There was terrible trouble yesterday,’ Liebert warned her. ‘The Sinn Feiners have taken over parts of the city – the GPO, City Hall, perhaps even Dublin Castle itself. There were no trams or carriages last night. The army had tried to attack and take the rebels on Sackville Street but had come under heavy fire and had to retreat.’
‘Mam, I heard they were fighting on the street,’ added Julia dramatically. ‘Shooting at each other.’
‘Who would do such a thing?’
‘The soldiers say it is the Volunteers and the Citizen Army – that lot from Liberty Hall where Nellie works that are behind this,’ her son explained.
‘Why would they do this while we are at war?’ Isabella asked, perturbed.
‘Because the war provides the perfect opportunity for the rebels to strike against Britain,’ he said bitterly. ‘They have declared an Irish Republic.’
‘What nonsense!’
Isabella could not believe that such a thing could happen in Dublin, the second city of the empire. She was sure that her son and maid were exaggerating. Annoyed that her plans for the day were now in disarray, she returned to the hallway and took off her coat.
‘They say Padraig Pearse and James Connolly, the union man, are behind it,’ Liebert continued slowly, ‘but I suspect Muriel’s husband may be involved too. He’s a friend of Mr Pearse’s, isn’t he?’
‘MacDonagh would not do such a thing! You must be mistaken, Liebert.’
‘Perhaps …’
She tried to persuade herself that her son’s information must be wrong. Her son-in-law was a respected university lecturer and surely would not involve himself in such an endeavour.
‘What will happen to these rebels?’
‘The army will regroup and I’m sure send fresh reinforcements from Britain today or tomorrow. The Sinn Feiners will not be able to hold out for long against such a force. I promise you they will all be captured and taken.’
‘Your father must not hear one word of this,’ she declared. ‘I will not have him distressed.’
Liebert agreed before sauntering into the drawing room.
Isabella went upstairs immediately to ask her daughters about all this – to find out exactly what they knew of this so-called rebellion.
To her dismay, Grace’s room was empty, and when she went to Nellie’s bedroom it was clear she had not returned to sleep there last night.
Isabella sat on Nellie’s empty bed, torn between anger and a deep fear at the idea that any of her family might be involved in such an act of treason against His Majesty and his forces. She would not tolerate such a thing. What if her daughters were part of this Sinn Fein rebellion?