Over the fine building of the G.P.O. floated a great green flag with
the words "Irish Republic" on it in large white letters. Every window
on the ground floor was smashed and barricaded with furniture, and a
big placard announced "The Headquarters of the Provisional Government
of the Irish Republic." At every window were two men with rifles, and
on the roof the parapet was lined with men. H.'s room appeared not to
have been touched, and there were no men at his windows.
We stood opposite and were gazing, when suddenly two shots were fired,
and, seeing there was likely to be an ugly rush, I fled again,
exhorting N. to take refuge at the club.
He never reached the club, but came back to the hotel, and we had tea,
and he then went to inspect St. Stephen's Green.
He found all round the Green, just inside the railings among the
shrubberies, the rebels had dug deep pits or holes, and in every hole
were three men. They had barricaded the street opposite the Shelbourne
Hotel, and there had been a lot of firing and several people killed,
and shots had gone into the hotel, which is, as you know, a fine
building facing the Green.
All the evening we heard firing in all directions of the city and
rumours of troops having arrived from the Curragh. While at dinner
another message came through from H. to say we were not to be alarmed;
he was quite safe, but might not get home that night.
After dinner N. went out to see if he could get near the Castle, but he
found awful fighting. The troops were storming the City Hall and using
machine-guns, and it was too "unhealthy" for him to get near, so he
came back at 9 and went to bed.
I stayed up in case of being wanted on the 'phone, and at 11.30 p.m.
went up to my room, and a few minutes later H. walked in, to my immense
relief.
The troops had arrived from the Curragh at about 5 p.m. and had
promptly stormed the City Hall, which commanded the main gate of the
Castle, and had taken it after fierce fighting.
H. saw prisoners being brought into the Castle yard, and when all
was quiet he and several other officials crept out and reached their
various homes.
People are appalled at the utter unpreparedness of the Government.
In the face of a huge body of trained and armed men, openly
revolutionary, they had taken no precautions whatever for the defence
of the city in the event of an outbreak. At the beginning of the war H.
obtained a military guard, armed, for the G.P.O., and they have always
been there. When the outbreak occurred yesterday the armed guard were
there, but with no ammunition! The sergeant was wounded in two places
and the rest overpowered.
All night the firing continued. Between 1 and 2 a.m. it was awful, and
I lay and quaked. It was all in the direction of the Castle.
This morning we hear the military are pouring into the city, and are in
the Shelbourne Hotel and Trinity College.
The rebels have barricaded Sackville Street, and it is expected to be
very fierce fighting over the G.P.O. It is terrible!
All our valuables were stored in H.'s safe and cupboard when we
gave up our house, and all our dear F.'s books, sword, and all his
possessions, which we value more than anything else in the world. We
would not trust them with the stored furniture.
[Illustration]
Yesterday afternoon the mob broke all the windows in various streets
and looted all the shops. The streets were strewn with clothes, boots,
furniture, tram cushions, and everything you can imagine.
While I am writing now there is incessant firing in St. Stephen's
Green, and we fear there may be street fighting in this street.
In case you have forgotten, I will put a little plan here (see p. 14).
_Tuesday, 5 p.m._
This morning martial law was proclaimed (I will try and get a copy of
the proclamation) at 11.30 and the rebels given four hours to surrender.
A cruiser and two transports are said to have arrived at Kingstown,
with troops from England. At 3.30 p.m., as there had been no surrender,
the troops started to clear St. Stephen's Green, and raked it with
machine-guns from the top of the Shelbourne Hotel and the United
Service Club. We hear there are many casualties. N. has just come
in, and says a big fire is raging in Sackville Street in the shops
opposite the G.P.O., supposed to have been caused by the mob finding
fireworks in a toy shop. The fire brigade arrived almost at once and
could easily have overcome the fire, but the brigade was fired on by
the Sinn Feiners, making it impossible for them to bring the engines
into action, and they had to beat a retreat and leave the shops to burn
themselves out. N. says the troops are clearing the houses of rebels
behind Dame Street and the region of the Castle, and there is a lot of
firing. It has turned to rain, which has cleared the streets of people.
A telegram has just come from the Admiralty stopping the mail boat from
crossing. No boat has gone to-day, and we are absolutely cut off.
All the roads leading out of Dublin are in the hands of the rebels.
H. and N. have just come in, having seen Dr. W. (now Major W.),
Surgeon to the Forces in Ireland. He told them that so far we had had
about 500 casualties, two-thirds of them being civilians, shot in the
streets.
The first thing Dr. W. heard of the outbreak was a 'phone message
telling him to go at once to the Shelbourne as a man had been shot.
He supposed it was a case of suicide, so jumped into his car and went
off, fortunately in mufti. In Nassau Street his car was stopped and he
was ordered to get out by rebels. He attempted to argue, and was told
if he did not obey instantly he would be shot. Had he been in uniform
he would have been shot at sight. As a civilian doctor they allowed
him to go, and he took his bag and ran. He found three men shot in the
Shelbourne, and a boy was shot as he reached the door.
_Wednesday, April 26th, 9.30 a.m._
Last evening was quiet till we went to bed at 10.30, when almost
immediately a furious machine-gun fire began. It seemed just at the
back of the hotel, but was really at the top of Grafton Street and the
street leading to Mercer's Hospital. It lasted about twenty minutes,
and then almost immediately after we got into bed a 'phone came that
H. was to go at once to the Vice-Regal Lodge in the Phoenix Park, so
he dressed and tried every way to get a motor; but of course no motor
would go out. After some delay he got the field ambulance of the fire
brigade at Dr. W.'s suggestion; but when it came the men told H. they
had been carrying wounded all day, and that they had been constantly
stopped by pickets and the car searched, and if they went and the car
was stopped and found to contain H. they would undoubtedly all be shot;
so H. considered it too risky, and it had to be abandoned. Eventually
his Excellency gave his instructions over the 'phone, first in French,
but that particular 'phone either did not speak or did not understand
French, so eventually he took the risk of the 'phone being tapped and
gave them in English. At last H. got to bed about 1 a.m., to be at the
'phone again at 5 a.m.
While we were dressing a terrific bombardment with field guns
began--the first we had heard--and gave me cold shivers. The sound
seemed to come from the direction of the G.P.O., and we concluded
they were bombarding it. It went on for a quarter of an hour--awful!
big guns and machine-guns--and then ceased, but we hear they were
bombarding Liberty Hall, the headquarters of Larkin and the strikers
two years ago, and always a nest of sedition. It is now crammed with
Sinn Feiners. The guns were on H.M.S. _Helga_, that came up the river
and smashed it from within about three hundred yards. It made me feel
quite sick.
We think that they are leaving the Post Office for a time with the hope
that when other strongholds are taken the Republican Government will
surrender. H. has just been summoned to the Castle, and there is no
knowing when he will be back. All who go out carry their lives in their
hands. I went out twice yesterday, but we were turned back by shots
being fired from upper windows, and the Lord Lieutenant has issued a
proclamation begging people to keep in their houses, so I must restrain
my curiosity.
All the shops remain closed, and no papers are issued except the
proclamation, and we know nothing of what is going on in other parts of
Ireland. But there are wild rumours of insurrection in Cork and other
places.
This morning there is firing again in St. Stephen's Green, so the
rebels are still there.
N. did a very fine thing yesterday. After the Green had been raked by
our machine-gun fire he strolled up, in his casual way, to see the
result! In front of one of the side gates in the railings, which are
seven feet high and spiked three ways, he saw a small group of men
peering into the Green. He went to see what they were looking at. The
rebels had barricaded the gate, which opened inwards, by putting one
of the heavy garden seats against it _upside down_ and on the top of
it another _right side up_, and lying full length on the seat, face
downwards, was a man, a civilian, with all his lower jaw blown away and
bleeding profusely. N. immediately climbed the railings and dropped
down on the Sinn Fein side and found that the man was still living; he
then turned and fairly cursed the men who were looking on, and asked
if there was not one man enough to come over the railings and help him.
Whereupon three men climbed over and together they lifted down the seat
with the poor creature on it, dragged away the other seat, when they
were able to open the gate, and then brought out the seat and the man
on it and carried him to the nearest hospital, where he died in about
five minutes.
N.'s theory is he was probably one of the civilians taken prisoner by
the Sinn Fein the previous day, and was trying to escape from the awful
machine-gun fire when he was shot down and fell back on to the seat. It
was a terrible case.
The rebels from St. Stephen's Green are now also in possession of the
College of Surgeons and are firing across the Green at the troops in
the Shelbourne Hotel.
Lord S. tells me that 30,000 troops were landed at Kingstown this
morning, and we hear they are amazed at their reception, as they had
been told that they were going to quell a rebellion in Ireland, and
lo! on their arrival at Kingstown the whole population turned out to
cheer them, giving them food, cigarettes, chocolate, and everything
the hospitable inhabitants could provide, so that the puzzled troops
asked plaintively: "Who then are we going to fight, and where is the
rebellion?" However, they were quickly disillusioned, for in marching
into Dublin, when they reached Ballsbridge they came within range of
several houses occupied by Sinn Feiners, and without a word of warning
the battalion of Sherwood Foresters came under terrible cross-fire and
were just shot down, unable to return a single shot. I have not heard
how many casualties occurred, but two or three officers and many men
were killed and a number wounded. So surely soon we must be relieved.
_Thursday, April 27th._
Last night the mail boat left carrying passengers, and if it goes this
evening Lord S. may be crossing, and he will take this to you.
Yesterday afternoon and evening there was terrible fighting. The rebels
hold all the bridges over the canal, one on the tram line between this
and Blackrock, another at the end of Baggot Street, and the other at
Leeson Street. The fighting was terrible, but in the end we took the
Leeson Street bridge, and I hope still hold it, as this opens a road to
Kingstown. We failed to take the other two.
At the end of Lower Mount Street the rebels held the schools, and there
was fierce fighting: our troops failed to surround the schools, and in
the end, when they at last took them by a frontal attack with the loss
of eighteen men and one officer, only one rebel was taken, the rest
having escaped by the back.
Yesterday, to our great indignation, the public-houses were allowed to
be open from 2 till 5, though every shop, bank, and public building was
closed--just to inflame the mob, it could not have been on any other
grounds; and yet at 8 p.m., after being on duty from 5 a.m., H. could
not get a whiskey and soda, or even a glass of cider with his dinner,
as it was out of hours. I was _furious_!
I must close this, as Lord S. has come in and says he expects to go
to-night and will take this and H.'s report, so I will start a fresh
letter to-morrow.
Don't worry overmuch about us. We quite expect to come out of this, but
if we don't N. is _yours_.