A day by day diary of Easter Week 1916.

Miss Lilly Stokes’ Diary of Easter Week

Published in Nonplus (Dublin, 1916).

Easter Tuesday, April 25, 1916

Such excitement! Dublin is in the hands of the Sinn Feiners. They have Harcourt Street and Westland Row Stations, Jacobs Factory, St. Stephen’s Green and the G.P.O. where they have cut the telegraph wires, so we are absolutely cut off from the rest of the world.

They have blown up a bridge at Rush and pulled up the line on the way to Kingstown. They have blown up a tram, and of course no trams are running. All the shops are shut, Jacobs was full of Rebels and the Coal Stores too, which touches us on the quick for we have been living on borrowed coal since Friday, our usual routine at Eastertide! Now there is not a tumbler full of coal in the house. Mother has a man out hunting for it or turf, but I don’t think he will get it.

I had a long day yesterday, Easter Monday, breakfasting at 8.15 a.m. I was over at the Hostel beside Phoenix Park, North Circular Road Gate, by 9 o’clock. After a heavy morning’s cleaning (V.A.D. housemaiding), feeling like a dried hemlock from weariness, I walked down to the Quay tram, thinking it would be a quicker way of getting home. To my dismay, no trams! I thought it was some game of the Quay trams on Easter Monday. I noticed groups of excited looking people and asked if there was any chance of a tram. “No thrams, Miss, the Volunteers has the city, they have all the Stations taken, the Bank of Ireland, the General Post Office, the Castle and the Green, and they have killed two of the “Polis”, blown up a thrain and all in it; sure Sackville Street is sthrewn with corpses, doan’t make any mistake and get on a thram! There now, did you hear theme? The Volunteers in Guinnesses Bathin’ house, shootin’ the soldiers - they are after shootin’ two in the thram and the ladies in it with them.”

This was exciting news, but I did not believe a quarter of it - one heard them shooting from the bathing house all right! I walked along the Quay past Guinness to the first bridge, where I joined a group of men at a Public House corner; it was all barred up, its inmates knocking at me to go on, go on, into safety - they didn’t ask me inside! They were shooting pretty fast now from the bathing house, I couldn’t see at what, till I saw the soldiers coming out from the Royal Barracks - they were running for the shelter of the Quay wall and bending low running across the bridge. My group got excited: “The Military, the Military comin’ out, and their bayonets fixed. Lor’ they’ll take us for the Volunteers, and the Officers laden with their revolvers!” And as they crossed the bridge, we all began to cheer and wave our hats and shout orders to the soldiers: “Go round to the back, go round to the back, ye’ll catch them there, kape in by the wall, ye’ll be shot dead.” We thought they were going to surround the bathing house but they evidently wanted to get to the Castle and thought they would get there by Parliament Street, but thought better of it as they neared the bathing house and came back by our side street. My crowd were greatly disgusted with them, having paid no attention to their orders. “There now, d’ye see that? Such muddlin’, it is aisy believin’ the muddlin’ at the front”.

I thought the safest way home would be to follow the soldiers, when two polite officers stopped and advised me to go round, so I cast back across the river behind the Four Courts, which had also been seized by the Volunteers. From the side streets I could see the soldiers doubling down Thomas Street, firing volleys, and on again - they got to the Castle all right with some casualties. I saw several Volunteer barricades made of cabs and boxes, hand-carts, anything that came handy, and coming up Parliament Street I saw the Volunteers on top of the “Express” office and on the house at the opposite comer of the street they were potting at anybody in uniform; they had killed a wounded officer, back from the Dardanelles, as he was going back to the Castle Hospital, just before I came along.

I was making for St. Stephen’s Green, by Grafton Street, when a very befuddled recruiting Sergeant at the Office there stopped me, putting his hand affectionately on my arm. “Listen to me Miss, ye’d better not go that way, the Germans have the Green and are after sendin’ off a volley.” I thanked him and slipped round by Dawson Street. Outside the Shelbourne they - the Volunteers - had a barricade. As I was passing, a splendid motor came whirling down the east side; it was instantly held up and ordered into the barricade. Out of it stepped a dignitary of the R.C. Church. The Volunteer saluted: “I beg your pardon, My Lord, but it is my orders.” In the barricade there was a big dray (its horse shot dead close by), a side car, two motors and a big laundry van, out of which baskets had fallen, their contents lying about. There were only four Volunteers to be seen - we were told others were in trenches behind the Green gates. Another motor came flying into the trap, was held up and ordered in in the same way. Its owner refused and backed the car, the Rebels following threatening him with their guns. We all thought they would shoot him, but they shot his tyres instead. An elderly gentleman beside me turned, and said: “If those ruffians had shot him, I would have shot them”, and showed me his revolver up his sleeve. I am glad he did not shoot, for he would certainly have been shot himself. I then went up to Leeson Street to stop any more cars running into the trap. I stopped one and then Mr. Lecky passed in his car and offered me a seat home, which I was glad to accept, being very hungry. I got home at 3 o’clock. Father and Mother had not heard a word of what was going on and had not noticed the firing.

As soon as I got something to eat, I went over to the Ducketts to telephone to Harrie and Maive who were in Howth, to come to Lansdowne Road Station, not knowing that the Sinn Feiners had Westland Row and that no trains were running - by great luck they got a viz to drive them in as far as Amiens Street. (I wonder what happened to all the Easter Monday trippers out there.) Then I returned to Leeson Street to stop the cars, but found that the Tram men were doing that, so I thought I would go round to see what all the heavy firing I had heard in the Ship Street Barracks direction meant. It was quite safe to go, only the Police and Military were in danger and they were confmed to Barracks.

I went and looked at the Trenches at the Green gates; they were chiefly manned by children - lads of 16 or 17.1 was told Ship Street was a wreck but found it normal, except for the excited crowds of women, and the soldiers being on the Barracks roof. Inside the gates they were standing ready, with bayonets fixed. When I got to the Castle I saw horrible signs of the morning’s first victims of the Rebellion. Volunteers were still on the roofs** **of the opposite houses. I went on to see Sackville Street and the Post Office, the windows of which were all smashed and barricaded up with Mail Bags. The mob had begun looting, they had emptied four shops, beginning with Nobletts Sweet Shop; they were looting a hat shop when I passed - a boy was standing in the big window, shooting out straw hats to the mob as if he were throwing cards into a hat. Everyone was throwing hats in the air, wearing pyramids of them or kicking them about. I suppose those sort of hats were no use to them. The Volunteers had nothing to say to the looting. There was another dead horse at the Pillar, belonging to a Lancer who was shot.

I went to the Provost’s House, where the Mahaffeys gave me a welcome cup of tea. They had barred and shut themselves in. They told me Mr. Healy of the *Irish Times *said it was feared that the same state of affairs reigned in all the other towns, but of course nothing was known, the telegraph wires being cut. While at tea, Mr. Alton, the Fellow and an O.T.C. Captain, came in to ask for beer for the 30 Anzacs he had collected to help to defend the College. Being holiday time, most of the O.T.C.s were away, as were General Friend, Birrel (of course) and, I believe, every official but one - some on holidays, others at Fairyhouse Races. The Mahaffy’s chef came in and told us he had just seen six men shot in Morehampton Road. I ventured to doubt his story - what would they be doing in Morehampton Roade - and said perhaps he meant Northumberland Road, but he said he would never make a mistake, he knew Dublin very well, so I came home by Northumberland Road, where the volunteers were in possession of several houses, and shooting from the windows had killed four of the G.R. men and wounded seven. I stumbled on the spot where it happened.

April 25 - Maive, Harrie and I went down town to see how things were - no posts, no papers - it was impossible to stay indoors hearing firing in all directions and not knowing what was happening. We went to Stephen’s Green, which was still in Rebel hands, though they were being kept in check by a machine gun on the top of the Shelbourne Hotel, which was all barricaded, its windows being bullet pocked - the windows of several shops smashed. We met Pauline and Kitty, the former troubled, for the “Little One” was expected home that day from Galway and they might not know the state of Dublin down there. I said I would go with her to the Broadstone, and we went by Sackville Street, which was a sight, shop after shop looted (Clery’s untouched, full of Sinn Feiners). The street was deep in broken glass, cardboard boxes, bits of window-frames, papers, bashed hats, etc., etc. Across Abbey Street the Volunteers had a barricade of the contents of Keating’s shop, hundreds of bicycles, tyres, wheels, everything piled one on the top of another. At the top of Talbot Street another barricade 12 feet high of furniture of every description. All the corner houses have been taken by the Volunteers and have been barricaded with mattresses and pillows. Such young boy faces looking along their gun barrels watching - they had strands of barbed wire across the street, sentries guarding it; one of them was in full uniform, the first I have seen in uniform.

They had barricaded the Post Office a great deal more - the looting was in full swing - Lawrences’ Toy shop was ransacked. From the upper windows they were dropping down pictures, frames, cameras, to the crowd below. They were looting other shops round the side street by the Tram Office. I saw squibs being thrown, loot from Lawrences, which probably was the cause of the fire which burnt it to the ground - it was not pleasant to see that mob.

We were told we could not possibly get to the Broadstone as it was in the Volunteers’ hands, which proved a false rumour, for the Station had always been in the Station hands; they also had a few Military there. We were told no trains were running, which was a comfort. Three Officers returning from leave were caught in the Broadstone - they got safely out of it disguised as Priests. That makes me think of Bishop Donnelly of Haddington Road yesterday. The Sinn Feiners would not allow the wounded soldiers to be removed from where they fell; he went out and, standing over the wounded, called out that he would remain there till they had all been removed - he is a fine old gentleman.

Coming away from the Broadstone, we met women staggering under the loot they had collected. The Police and Military were still confined to Barracks, waiting for reinforcements, so there was no one to stop the looting. The mass of the people were perfectly peaceful and orderly, puzzled as to what it all meant and how far it would go. All shops within the boundaries shut.

The sound of firing was continuous from all directions. The Rising had been a complete surprise to the greater number of Sinn Feiners. No one knew how many were under arms. They came quietly into town, as Easter Monday trippers, and went in small parties to every part of the town, attracting no attention. At 12 o’clock they seized what houses they wanted. The G.P.O. was full of Sinn Feiners and was easily taken - the Land Commission also, which I suppose helped them to take the Four Courts. They got Harcourt Street Station, Westland Row, Jacobs, Bolands Mill and Bakery, the Green, the College of Surgeons, besides numbers of dwelling houses. They have their green flag with Irish Republic in gold across it flying from the G.P.O. - also on the College of Surgeons.

What they hope to accomplish, one has no idea. The Government were warned that this was brewing for Easter Monday. The names of the leaders were sent to Birrel, but he refused to allow them to be arrested till they had actually broken the law, though they were known to be plotting rebellion. The Police were not even allowed to carry firearms. General Friend got back from England Tuesday morning; that evening the soldiers landed at Kingstown.

Wednesday 26 - Started with heavy gun fire. Mother thought it was: “And those poor kindly Sum Feiners we have lived beside for years, being shot down in the Park, and that they are not Sinn Feiners at all but Larkinites.” We heard later it was a gun boat shelling Liberty Hall from the River. A number of Rebels were killed, and in the morning we got down to the Post Office in Dame Street, but could go no further. We could see the O.T.C. on the College roof; they were firing up Dame Street and down Westmoreland Street, at Hopkins and Kellys, from where the Volunteers were firing. The windows of T.C.D. were all sand-bagged - an occasional shot went up Grafton Street to warn the crowd from collecting. The Military shelled and took the Express Office and the Exchange. We secured a paper with nothing in it except the Proclamation of Martial Law. Not a word of news from abroad. We don’t know if Kut has fallen, or if America has declared war, what is happening in East Africa or in France. We hear rumours of the German Fleet being out. In the afternoon we went to Ballsbridge and watched the soldiers coming in - thousands of them. A Division had been sent over, it was ready to go to France on Monday. The men thought they were in France when they arrived at Kingstown, calling out “Bon jour” to the people. They had a number of prisoners at Ballsbridge, among them some women; most of them looked the labouring class.

We heard the soldiers had had nothing to eat since they landed. They had had a long march from Kingstown carrying their heavy packs. They looked weary, so Maive, Pauline and I came back and Mother gave us two grand cans of tea, which we took to them by the Elgin Road lane, but alas! we could not give it to them, for they had just begun advancing down Northumberland Road. They had cleared the Rebels out of Carrisbrook House at the corner of Pembroke and Northumberland Roads - there were eight dead inside it. One soldier was killed. We saw the soldiers being sniped at, but none shot, the soldiers returning the fire as they advanced.

The noise of the firing and bombing was tremendous. They took the corner house in Haddington Road after an obstinate fight - they bombed it. They say there were 36 dead men, women and children in it who had all been fighting. It was from that house on Monday they fired on the unsuspecting and unarmed G.R.s who were returning from a Route March, killing four and wounding seven, one of whom - Mr. Frank Browning - died afterwards. There was heavy fighting about Mount Street Bridge. The Sinn Feiners were in the School House and had a machine gun in the corner house of Lower Mount Street and Clanwilliam Place. The Sherwood Foresters stumbled into the trap and were mown down, over 100 of them on the bridge. Poor boys, many of them had only had six weeks training, and some of them had never shot anything but blank cartridge before. They finally bombed out the four Clanwilliam Place houses.

Thursday 27 - Maive, Lizzie and I started early to get some stores. Nearly all the shops were shut. We had to wait our turn outside a closed and shuttered Findlaters. When we got in, we were only allowed small quantities - however, by the time we got out, we could hardly stagger along with our baskets. All the meat has been commandeered by the Military, as no trains are running. We are in a state of siege.

Mercifully we got a small cart of turf yesterday, and Bess sent us in three bags of coal.

While I am writing there is a heavy gun firing. It can’t be far off; for I heard the whiz of its shells. What can it be firing at?

There! I heard a rifle shot in this road. You can’t tell in which houses the Volunteers are - they march into any house they please and either turn the inmates out, or make them temporary prisoners. They dropped through the skylight into the Lynches house in Leeson Street at four o’clock in the morning. Old Mrs. Lynch is an invalid. They begged her not to be nervous but said that she and the rest of the household must clear out in an hour, which they did, taking refuge with the Lynches in Merrion Square. Hardly were they there than the Military came banging, searching the house for Sinn Feiners reported to have been seen going in. In the same way the Rebels occupied Judge Andrews’ house, Lady Morris’s, and the McCanns, all in Lower Leeson Street.

There is a sniper close here, he keeps popping all night, keeping up his spirits. Great shooting going on - here are the soldiers, clearing the streets. I have just run down to succour two ladies on bikes. They tell us they are shelling Bolands, those were the shells I heard.

The soldiers are very suspicious about Mrs. Duckett’s house opposite, because it is so shuttered. She has come out to talk to them and is imploring them to come and search her house. She is assuring them there is no danger from anybody in this road: “Except, oh yes, that house - Mrs. Earle’s, she is a suffragette, you might look there.”

A soldier on a bicycle shouting “Battle Order”, Battle Order”! It sounds horrible, but apparently only means to remove packs.

They are searching the houses for that sniper. I whispered from the window to the soldier at our gate: “Shall I make you a cup of tea?” for I had heard them refuse all offers of refreshments as against orders. He closed an eye and signed significantly with his thumb meaning “Yes, if done sub-rosa”. I made him a bowl in no time and the Sergeant shared it. He said if I could make some more and put it behind the door of the next door (empty) house, he would send the boys to “search it”. They had had nothing but bully beef and biscuit for 48 hours, and had just marched from Kingstown with their heavy packs in the heat. The next door house was searched at least ten times - it looked a very suspicious one for snipers! More would have searched it if they had not been afraid of attracting the Officer’s attention.

Still Thursday. All the afternoon they have been fighting round Bolands, shelling and bombing. The latter make a dreadful noise -we have not got it yet. It is near midnight, there is a huge fire blazing in the direction of Stephen’s Green; it may be Jacobs, or the College of Surgeons. We hear a big explosion, the blazing sparks thrown high in the air. I can’t go to bed with this roar going on, of machine guns, rifle, gun and bomb still in the direction of Bolands.

There are no lights in the streets; our sniper still at it, I am afraid he must be mad, for he certainly can’t see anything. I wish I could stop him.

Henry got home last night. He went fishing on Sunday and could not get back till Wednesday, when he bicycled the 50 miles. I hear he has been commandeered for the Castle Hospital where he has to sleep. The Solicitor General is there, too.

The Adelaide Hospital has been isolated for the last two days anybody approaching it being shot at from Jacobs. Yesterday 60 wounded were taken into Baggot Street Hospital - and the fighting had only begun. They can only keep the bad cases - the dead are buried in the Hospital garden or anywhere, without coffins or ceremony - three soldiers are buried in St. Bartholomew’s. Maive and Harrie covered the graves with flowers this morning. The Rebels have been cleared out of Stephen’s Green -their dead are buried in their trenches.

Friday 28 - The firing has never ceased - the fire is still raging. We hear that the North side of Sackville Street has been burnt from Talbot Street to the Quay - also Harrie and Maive spent the day collecting every conceivable thing for two new hospitals in Fitzwilliam Street and the Square - people gave generously. Mrs. Duckett’s is the gathering place. Mr. and Mrs. Bagwell have been hit, driving in their motor - Mr. George May, Willie Lawson also. The poor Oulton girl of 20 has had to have her leg amputated.

Saturday 29 - I got up early to try and get some flour and butter in Ranelagh where I had heard it was to be had. There was none and very little of anything left. I got some biscuits, pea flour, chocolate, etc. - most shops sold out and shut - everybody was glad to sell for fear of being looted. Every baker’s cart had a crowd round it - streams and streams of people coming out of town in search of bread - no bread or flour in the city. I think Johnston, Mooney are the only bakers baking. The fires are still burning. It is a beautiful sight at night, if one did not know the misery it means. Our sniper still wakeful, he is somewhere in the back lane. I went to Merrion Square and was glad when I got there. I tripped with mincing steps down Fitzwilliam Street and Merrion Square for fear they might take me for a man in disguise.

There are five soldiers and 16 civilians wounded in No. 40; one little fellow of 12 shot through the abdomen while giving a wounded soldier water, and an old man of 80 - he is dying. Several shots have struck No. 40. They have mattressed up the windows of the wards. It is dangerous to look out of the window. A servant girl in Upper Mount Street was shot through her head, at her window, this morning.

The Sinn Feiners were in Dr. Dempsey’s house at the corner of Lower Mount Street and Merrion Square. The soldiers sent volley after volley into it, then rushed it. They found blood everywhere, but not a soul in it. The soldiers are convinced that there is an underground passage between the houses, and that everyone in Merrion Square is in league with the Volunteers. No. 40 had to give a very clear and exact account of itself- what right it had to be a hospital! Two maddening snipers have been sniping at each other all day - I don’t think much of their shooting! We could see the soldier on the Lower Mount Street roof. The soldiers’ bullets make a higher note than the Sinn Feiners’! Lady Woods made me go into lunch and tea; they live next door and are so nice. They are housing all the night nurses, besides lending a quantity of things to the Hospital.

About 6 o’clock a telephone came through to the Hospital from Headquarters that Pearse, one of the leaders, and his men had surrendered unconditionally, in the Four Courts. What a mercy and a relief - it remains to be seen if all the others will follow suit. The G.P.O., Jacobs and Bolands are still in their hands.

When I got home, there was Adrian and a Canadian friend. They had reached Kingstown in the morning and could not get up till late afternoon. Ady had been commandeered to sign passes. When they left England they knew there had been a disturbance but thought it was little more than a strike row (the English papers had made so little of it), and that it was well in hand. Captain Ellis had gathered some inkling of the real state of affairs from men on board, but when he went down to tell Ady, Ady scoffed at him: “Such rot! The Sinn Feiners are only a small party of intelligent thinking men, not more than 1,400 of them.” Adrian has not lived in Ireland for nearly three years. It was too bad their coming over, though it was a pleasure to see them, but of course they could not stay, their uniforms were targets; besides, the Military have started a system of passes which makes us prisoners till we get one - they have to be renewed each day.

The G.P.O. has fallen, it was bombed and shelled, which set it on fire. Connolly, the Rebel Commander in Chief, has been taken prisoner. Thirty were killed as they tried to escape. The Volunteers took an Indian medical man a prisoner on Monday. He looked after their wounded; he managed to get all out of the burning building, breaking a way into the Coliseum for them. They had a great store of drugs in the G.P.O. - hundreds of pounds worth and not a drop of morphia among them.

Connolly is Henry’s patient, with a fractured ankle and a wound in the arm. He carried on the defence of the G.P.O. for two days. Henry was asked how many men would be sufficient to guard him, considering his condition. He said one. After some hours he went back to see how he was getting on, and found seven soldiers with fixed bayonets in the room, and one outside. Henry protested, and said they must go out. Authority said: “No” it was orders. Henry said he would give up the case. At last, after a couple of hours, somebody came, to verify Connolly’s position, and it was found that the order had been, one guard in the room and seven outside, but I suppose the seven were curious! Countess Markievicz is a prisoner in the Castle - she is known to have shot two men.

Sunday 30 - Ady slept at Mrs. Ducketts. Captain Ellis here - the latter was greatly entertained with Mrs. Duckett and Mrs. Earle, former deadly enemies, Mrs. Earle being a suffragette and an R.C., now friendly over the collection for the Hospitals. Mrs. Earle reminded Mrs. Duckett of the time when she was being watched by detectives as a suffragette, when she told them to: “Shoot her, shoot her, shoot her grey hairs!” “Oh, no! I never said that, I never said grey hairs, I never said that of any man or woman. I’d never say anything so disrespectful.” The shooting part did not seem to matter at all. Mrs. Earle is a brave woman. Yesterday she wanted to get some chickens to the wounded in Dun’s Hospital, which is one of the worst parts of the fighting; she asked a priest if he would bring them, he refused for it was very dangerous, and tried to dissuade her from going, but she insisted, first asking his blessing. “Ye’ll know me, Father, for the woman with a hole in the heel of her stocking, if I don’t get through.” She went and got a bullet through her hat. “Oh, Miss Stokes darlin’, I’m no good, no good to anyone at all since it happened, when a shot went near me this morning, on me way to Chapel, I nearly dropped with the fright.” I never met her before, but since Monday, everybody knows everybody; everybody is out on the road talking, or camping on their doorsteps.

After breakfast we went down to Ballsbridge to try and get passes. Harrie wanted to get down to Fitzwilliam Square, where she had promised to cook for an hospital. Ady wanted to go there too, on the chance of seeing Henry. Harrie got her pass, he was refused, and rightly, for it is madness for Officers to go about. Harrie had to run the gauntlet of bullets, it was madness. She crossed the Lock Bridge and by the poor Fane Vernon’s house just as it was getting a bombardment of bullets from the Military who, seeing a big bath sponge swinging in the bathroom window to dry, took it for a sniper peeping. Rumour also said there were Sinn Feiners in the house, it being a corner and a likely one for them, the soldiers believed, and riddled the house with bullets. The furniture and pictures were badly injured, mercifully none of them were hurt, except a slight flesh wound Mrs. Fane Vernon got.

We spent the morning sitting on the door steps. Olive came over and Lady La Touche’s pretty Canadian niece, who was in great anxiety to get back to England, having had news that her only brother had been wounded in Mesapotarnia, and knowing the anxiety of her people at her being over here. Captain Ellis and Ady at once volunteered to escort her as far as Conway, where they are going to spend the rest of their leave. Mr. Fottrell offered to drive them to Kingstown in his car. After lunch we went down to get their passes. Ady is a great old “fuss bag” - he would not let us hang round Ballsbridge, “obstructing the Military” - a most interesting place, all sorts of things to be seen there; so we had to quietly come home. Luckily he walked on ahead with Father, and when he thought it safe we - Maive, Captain Ellis, the pretty girl and I - nipped back and were just in time to see 70 prisoners from Bolands march past, fine looking fellows, swinging along in good step. Of course they looked shabby and dirty, they had been fighting for seven days. Until I saw them I thought they ought to be shot, but I don’t know - it would be terrible waste of material, if it was nothing else - it made one miserable to see them.

The leader in Bolands was a fine looking man called the Mexican, he is educated and speaks like a gentleman. The Military have all the important buildings and the Railway Stations in their hands now, but there are numbers of snipers hidden everywhere still. Captain Ellis thought he saw one sniper in the Lane - he heard the whiz of his bullet and saw a man running round a stable comer, where I thought I had seen signalling while watching the glare of the fires.

Mrs. Earle told me to-day Miss X of 31 cooked for the Rebels in Stephen’s Green. The poor Xs, they have just lost a third son at the Front.

Ady and Captain Ellis went off in great spirits with their fair charge.

Monday May 1 - Maive and I tried for passes. We went early but there was a long queue before us; we waited and waited, until at last there was a move, and then such a rough push that we decided to try our luck without one. While waiting there, a heavily-veiled, ragged, black figure rode up on a bike, also trying for a pass. I thought I recognised Miss X, but her appearance and rags were such I could not be sure, so I addressed her by name, and she answered. I did not know what to do, and consulted Maive. We both thought she should not be allowed to get a pass. At the Bridge I gave her description to an officer, and feel a brute for having done so. He allowed us to pass the Sentry, but the Sentry was so doubtful of our getting out of town again that Maive did not come.

I found they had mounted a maxim on 37 Merrion Square with which they were raking the Grove-White’s house in Mount Street Crescent very ineffectually for they never stopped the answering puffs of smoke from the Sinn Feiners. It was absurd waste of ammunition, they had two slits of windows 300 yards away to aim at. Beside the maxim we had a sniper watching them.

We heard there were Rebel snipers on the roof of 42 or in the chimneys. A poor young soldier downstairs who had had his leg amputated screamed at the shooting. I think he was still under the influence of morphia. The old man died last night, also a soldier. Just as Pauline was starting back to Kitty’s for lunch, a young civilian was brought to the door on a stretcher. He was dead, shot at Mount Street Crescent; another man with him was badly wounded, and a second man was killed there shortly afterwards. When will this wickedness stop? I did not let Pauline go, it was too dangerous. Lady Woods made us stay to tea; while there, Miss Pigott, who is nursing in 40, came in to say that it was now possible and quite safe to go down to Sackville Street. After some hesitation we all said we would go. One felt reluctant to go and see the misery of the town as a sight. Sir Robert and Lady Woods, Misses Woods and Pigott, Pauline, the two boys and myself went. The streets were crowded with soldiers all chaffing and laughing. They said of us: “I sai, ‘ere is a charming Brigade” (our white overalls and veils looked remarkable). People had provided them with soap, towels and water and they were having a grand clean-up on the Merrion Square steps. Their headquarters are in No. 10, they were with the Mahaffys in the Provost’s House. The soldiers have been camping out in the streets - luckily the weather has been lovely, but I think they ought to have been billetted.

As we got near T.C.D. the place was thronged. We had to keep to the left hand side of the street, while the returning throng came back by the right. Everyone looked stern and miserable. I had heard Sackville Street was a terrible sight, but I never could have imagined it as bad as it was. Hopkins, the silver smith, is a tumbled heap of stone, then the stark walls of the gutted D.B.C., then piles of bricks which used to be houses. The Hibernian Academy is burnt with the Spring Collection of pictures, many of them loaned and valuable ones. Nothing is saved, but the awful thing is that Mr. Kavanagh is believed to have been burnt in the building. No trace can be heard of him anywhere. Numbers have been burnt - 19 horses belonging to Clery, one lived through it - a miracle. There is nothing left of Clerys except the front decorated wall, no side walls supporting it. It is dreadfully dangerous, as is all the burnt area, for the walls are constantly falling. Henry Street and Moore Street are impassable with fallen masonry.

The barricades were the means of leading the fires from one street to another. How the Volunteers held out in the G.P.O. with raging fires all round them! The heat must have been awful. The iron girders in the Hotel Metropole is all that remains of it, but a velvet chair standing out in the street. The big, new Coliseum Theatre in Henry Street gone, and all the shops between it and the G.P.O. on the other side of the street - as far as I could guess, from Hampdon and Leedoms up. There was a horrible smell everywhere.

Two of the Rebels were found lying hand in hand, dead in Moore Street. One had been shot through the chest and had tried to staunch the blood with his handkerchief. Someone had thrown a green flag over them. One has some idea now how the Belgians and French feel, seeing their towns laid in ruins. Over 180 buildings have been burnt.

We came home through T.C.D. The Commissariat are in the Square, they looked so picturesque, horses and men on the grass under the trees, with the flecks of sunlight dancing on them. The soldiers are watering all the side streets from behind barricades. I had great difficulty getting home - nothing would persuade the Sentry to let me pass the bridge. I told him the Officer had let me pass in the morning. Alas! there was no officer now. The Sentry said perhaps I could get a pass at Lad Lane, the Police Barracks. I tried, but they told me the Military had told them to give no passes to anyone after 1 p.m. I was most moving, but of course I understood they could not melt. To my joy and relief a darling plain-clothes man came to my assistance and said: “If I came with him, perhaps I could get you through,” and he did - he had a general pass.

Tuesday 2 - Women go where they like without passes. Men still have to wait ages for theirs. Sniping still continues. The Military are having a house to house search for Rebels and ammunition. Already 1,000 prisoners have been sent to England.

They have found a lot of guns and ammunition - amongst others, those belonging to our sniper in the Lane, he has escaped. They have been using Dum dum bullets. Henry says the wounds have been very bad, and there are many deaths.

Wednesday 3 -** **Pearse, Clarke and D---, leaders were sentenced by Court Martial and shot this morning.