RICHMOND BARRACKS WAS overcrowded, everyone stacked and crammed together like sardines. Separated from the men, the women tried to get some rest, but many of the soldiers were taunting and jeering at them. Like all her comrades, Nellie was famished and glad of the bully beef and biscuits they were given.
British justice did not tarry, and she watched as men from their garrison and others were gathered to be marched to the north wall, from where they would be transported to jails in England or Wales.
‘You ladies are to be moved to Kilmainham Jail,’ they were brusquely told by a burly sergeant.
They marched at dusk to Dublin’s infamous prison. Over the previous hundred years or more Kilmainham had held not only criminals and murderers, but the renowned Irish rebel leaders Robert Emmet and Charles Stewart Parnell.
‘They are sending us to the right place!’ joked fair-haired Madeleine ffrench-Mullen defiantly. There was a large group of women from the Citizen Army and Cumann na mBan, all of whom had played their part in the rebellion.
Nellie’s sense of bravado disappeared as they crossed the cobblestones and entered the stone archway at the entrance to Kilmainham, a tall, austere, grey-brick building. Despite its being spring, she shivered at the cold and damp in the old west wing of the jail. During the rebellion the Volunteers had cut the gas supply, so they had only candlelight to direct them to their cells. She was led into a cell where she was ordered to undress and take off her boots and stockings as two female warders searched her for hidden weapons.
Nellie was handed a blanket and moved to another cell to put her clothes back on. She was sharing with Julia Grennan and Winifred Carney, both of whom had served in the GPO. All their blankets were infested with fleas and Nellie and her companions were soon covered in bites which became a scourge as she itched at them constantly.
‘Try not to scratch them or you will only make it worse,’ Dr Lynn advised them all as they exercised in one of the prison yards.
The food was terrible, their dinner an awful stew that was more like a greasy soup served with biscuits.
‘It’s disgusting!’ complained Julia as she nibbled at the hard prison biscuits.
There was little comfort in the cramped cells and Nellie wondered how she would survive weeks or months, or even years, in such a place. But she was determined not to get downhearted. She wondered if her sisters or parents were even aware that she had been imprisoned and if they would be allowed to visit her. She supposed she and the other women might also be sent to prisons in England.
They told each other stories of their garrisons. Winnie was proud to have served as James Connolly’s secretary.
‘He’s the bravest man I know, for he was badly shot in the leg and hardly complained. I heard that he was taken to Dublin Castle, where hopefully the doctors will attend to his wounds and blood loss.’
‘He’s far too ill to be imprisoned here,’ asserted Julia, who had helped to nurse him.
Nellie had a huge regard for Connolly, who had been so kind to her every time she set foot in Liberty Hall and she prayed that he would recover from his injuries.
All the women were allowed to exercise in the yard together which gave them the opportunity to try to discover what was going on not only within the prison walls but also outside. They heard that the city, much of it destroyed, was under heavy military rule, the army suspicious of everyone, with a curfew still in operation and cordons and barricades in most parts of the city.
Countess Markievicz was also in Kilmainham but was kept isolated in a cell away from the rest of them and not allowed to exercise with them.
‘They say she will stand trial with the other leaders,’ whispered Rosie.
‘What will happen to them?’ Nellie asked, thinking of MacDonagh and Joe and their own commandant.
‘One of the wardens told me that he heard that the military governor, General Maxwell, has ordered that all the rebellion leaders are to be tried and sentenced to death for treason.’
‘They would never do that!’ Julia cried vehemently.
Nellie felt sick. Surely the British general and his men would never carry out such a sentence and instead would exile and transport them to a prison in some godforsaken colony. How would Muriel and the children ever survive without MacDonagh?
A rumour spread that Padraig and Willie Pearse and some of the other leaders were in cells on the landing on the other side of the prison. She tried to cajole a warder into giving her some information about her brother-in-law, MacDonagh, and Grace’s fiancé, Joe Plunkett, but the dour heavy-set woman was unforthcoming.