Unlikely Rebels (22 page)

In any event, when all is said and done, it would not be regarded today as extraordinary for a couple so much in love, who were to have been married on Easter Sunday, to have anticipated their honeymoon. Eve-of-battle conceptions may not have been rare, with heightened emotions and the shadow of death threatening a final parting. Nevertheless, the allegation is unproven. Not at all uncertain, however, is the fact that a small Joseph or Josephine would have been a joy in Grace's lonely years and a grandchild for the Count and Countess to have perpetuated the goodness that made Joseph Plunkett the kind of man he was.

Notes

Nellie had been less than three months in New York when she met a handsome young Irish-American named Joseph Donnelly, who was a master printer, publisher and a friend of James Connolly. He came from a comfortable, Catholic family in Omagh, County Tyrone, who owned a large drapery shop in the town. Joseph's older brother, Alec, practised law in Omagh, and his other brother, Nicholas, was a doctor in London. Nellie and Joseph had much in common: a family connection to the law, mutual grief at Connolly's execution, and, of course, their politics. It was a whirlwind romance, but it was also a mixed marriage, so they married in a registry-office ceremony. Countess Markievicz sent a beautiful Tara brooch to mark the occasion, and Liam Mellows wrote a delightful congratulatory letter to Nellie, his erstwhile hair colourist. A year later a daughter, Maeve, was born.

The young publisher had printed a magazine Connolly edited and did his friend proud in his edition of the labour leader's classic,
Labour in Irish History.
The book was tastefully presented in hardcover, in a soft reseda green, with details on cover and spine in gold lettering and with a narrow ribbon of green satin as a bookmark. A twin volume produced by the Donnelly Press was Connolly's
The Re-Conquest of Ireland.
Other publications included Hanna Sheehy Skeffington's
Democracy in Ireland
and James Fintan Lalor's
The Rights of Ireland
and
Faith of a
Felon.
A particular success from the Donnelly Press was
Ireland
, by a Canadian, Katherine Hughes. She went first to England as assistant to the agent general of Alberta in London. A visit to Ireland shocked her so deeply that she began careful economic research, leaning heavily on English documentation. Reviews of her book from such publications as the
Evening Post
,
America
,
The Gaelic American
and
The Monitor
were euphoric. Her dramatic conclusion was that England had been ‘disembowelling' Ireland for over seven centuries. Her cure was Griffith's Sinn Féin policy, which, she claimed, would rescue Ireland from its subjection. In Irish-American circles there was universal praise for Hughes'
Ireland
, and
The Gaelic American
concludes its particularly complimentary review by praising the ‘able' author and her ‘directness, completeness and conciseness' with the following recommendation:

Ireland
is a book which should be in the hands of every person interested in the cause of Irish liberty, every seeker after the truth about Ireland, whether he or she be Irish or American, and every citizen who believes that nations should not be governed against the will of their inhabitants by brute force.

This praise had added value when it is recalled that
The Gaelic American
was John Devoy's paper and that a woman's contribution was, for once, considered meritorious.

Not only did Nellie's husband specialise in Irish-Ireland material, but he also made his printing works at 164 East 37th Street available for meetings of a new Irish society called the Progressive League, a name embodying perhaps a veiled innuendo that older Irish societies were less than progressive in their leanings towards erecting monuments to the past rather than planning for the future. The League nurtured those rejected by Devoy and Clan na Gael. For instance, when Hanna Sheehy Skeffington arrived in America with her seven-year-old son, Owen, she expected no encouragement from Devoy. He had treated her husband, Francis, as he had treated Casement – with suspicion. It seems unfair to pile such recriminations on this old man who had, with little help from anyone, achieved economic success. Nonetheless, he did seem to have his mind set against anyone with Ascendancy links, had deep reservations about ‘political' women and seemed to see himself as head of an Irish government
in absentia.
The redoubtable Hanna, however, managed to address over 250 meetings on her American tour, including colleges and politicians, actively helped by the Gifford sisters. Naturally her dynamism was fired by the killing of her gentle, idealistic husband, but while she spoke everywhere of his murder by Bowen Colthurst, she spoke also of the proposed Peace Conference in Europe, at which she – and all Irish republicans – felt that Ireland's rights should be recognised. There was an idea that the leaders of the Rising, Pearse in particular, had been determined to hold out for at least five days, because that was the time that would be required for recognising a nascent nation, but it had proved only a theory as far as Europe was concerned.
[1]

It is worth noting that in August 1916, Hanna had been offered an apology for her husband's murder, following a Royal Commission of Enquiry. Herbert Asquith had offered her £10,000 either as compensation or as a bribe to forego a public enquiry. Whatever the motive, she rejected the money. Even this did not endear her to Clan na Gael but Joseph Donnelly, the Giffords and the Progressive League gave her all the support she needed.

Apart from pushing for recognition at the peace conference of the Republic declared by Pearse, Hanna had a brief also to raise badly needed money for those who had been widowed and orphaned in the conflict and for those whose breadwinners had been jailed as a result of the Rising. Although President Wilson proclaimed that the rights of small nations must be upheld, his roots were in the unionist north of Ireland, so he did not see Ireland as a nation with sovereign rights. The Progressive League was well aware of this and, at a meeting in the printing works, it was decided that Joseph Donnelly should go to Washington to organise a monster meeting at which Hanna Sheehy Skeffington and Margaret Skinnider would speak, as well as John Devoy, Judge Daniel Colohan and other influential Irish Americans. Donnelly dismissed the suggestion, however, because he was so busy, and said that his wife should go, showing that he had faith in Nellie's organising abilities.

The committee decided to engage a theatre opposite the White House for the big event and a room for Nellie in the Ebbitt Hotel in which Hanna Sheehy Skeffington was staying. She was given a list of ‘true Irishmen
'
but quickly became disillusioned when she discovered that many names on the list were unwilling to rock the boat of Wilson's war effort. Many Irish Americans were evasive or unwilling to speak at the meeting, and Nellie's correspondence with one Irish-American loyal luminary illustrates this perfectly. She had written to Judge Colohan to invite him to speak, but his secretary informed her by letter that the judge regretted he would be out of town at the time of the proposed meeting. An observation written by Nellie in Dublin, in 1953, notes caustically, ‘At time he was invited to speak
no date
for meeting was set, even approximately.'
[2]

The high point of Irish-American commitment to Ireland may well have been characterised by the amazing trilingual outdoor concert which had been held in New York on 30 April 1916, when news of the surrender had reached them. Even though this was before the executions, emotions ran high. Devoy and the widow of Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa led the huge ‘choir', comprising Irish Americans, German Americans and general anti-British sympathisers. Their very unusual repertoire included the American national anthem, ‘Deutschland Über Alles', ‘A Nation Once Again', ‘Watch on the Rhine' and ‘The Wearing of the Green'.

Nevertheless, a year was to elapse between that open-air concert and America's entry as Britain's First World War ally in April 1917. Even Irish Americans who had used Ada Gifford's spying activities, the work of her sister Nellie and the writings of her sister ‘John' to help their campaign to promote Irish nationhood and keep America out of the war so that they would not become an ally of Britain, now reconsidered the situation. They had frustrated Anglo-American attempts to engage America in Europe up to 1917, but now the position was different. The American part of them resented the loss of their sailors to German U-boat attacks, after Germany started unrestricted attacks on all shipping in early 1917, just as much as the Irish part of them resented the post-Rising executions. Min Ryan, Nellie Gifford-Donnelly, her sisters ‘John' and Ada, and others, became aware of growing reservations and of subtle barriers being erected to curb their activities. Such was the case when Hanna Sheehy Skeffington proposed to address a meeting in Carnegie Hall and it was obvious that details of her husband's murder were bound to rouse anti-British feeling. In an attempt to prevent her speaking she was advised that, allegedly, her voice would not carry at a meeting in this vast hall, but she ignored the advice and was given good coverage in the press for her address.

At times, however, the relationship between these two new-found bedfellows – Irish-American and English allies – was strained. Angry Irish and Irish-American demonstrators forced the withdrawal of the British film
Whom the Gods Would Destroy,
which depicted Irish Volunteers as apelike creatures, similar to the demeaning, racist cartoons of Irish people in
Punch.
When a Jewish cinema owner, unaware of the movie's implications, rented it, he needed only an explanation of its purpose – to demean the Irish race – to have no further truck with it.
[3]

The lengths to which the anti-Irish element in America was prepared to go is perhaps best illustrated by Nellie's experience in rousing support for the Progressive League's monster meeting at the theatre opposite the White House. Leaflets giving the time and venue were printed, and it was part of Nellie's job to distribute them as widely as possible. Fortunately, a friend had warned her about the ‘dirty tricks' brigade: Washington had never had such a big Irish meeting before, and it was possible that the booked venue might become mysteriously unavailable after the advertising leaflets had been printed. Nellie was advised to quietly book an alternative venue for the night, just in case. When she called ten days before the meeting to check if anything needed attention, the manager told her that he had told her committee in New York that the theatre would not now be available. However, Nellie continued to distribute her leaflets (called ‘dodgers') and, on the big night, stood on the steps of the offending theatre with an Irish-American friend, displaying a notice in large lettering which read:
Big Irish Meeting – Two Blocks West, One Block South
. She and her friend chanted the message for good measure, directing the audience towards the ‘shadow' venue she had booked. The Irish-American cops on duty were appreciative of her ingenuity and clapped her heartily (and somewhat boisterously) on the back. The meeting was an unqualified success.
[4]

Another incident, this time in the behaviour of Clan na Gael towards Liam Mellows and Dr Patrick McCartan, riled the Giffords, who, along with those of the Irish-American community of more recent immigration, revered Mellows and called him their commandant. He was among the young group who sported a kilt and, when he had first come to America, was employed by Clan na Gael on
The Gaelic American.
A problem emerged from a New York meeting to celebrate the first anniversary of the Rising, just after America had entered the war. Before that, the Clan had been pro-German (and,
ipso facto
, anti-British), but platform speakers at the anniversary meeting urged the young men present – Irish and Irish American – to join the American forces. Those who had fought in the Rising, including Mellows, dissented, and there was a stormy confrontation. The young rebels refused to take down their tricolour when the stewards ordered them to do so.

Meetings at which Mellows was chief speaker were organised to put forward the Irish republican viewpoint, but the American Vigilantes tried repeatedly to break up these meetings and incited mobs to attack the Irish by labelling them German spies. On one occasion they even tried to get American sailors to attack a Mellows meeting, but the Irish got to the Americans first to put their view, and it was the Vigilantes the sailors routed. The Vigilantes themselves were composed largely of Englishmen, led by the notorious Moffat.

Mellows lost his job on
The Gaelic American
on account of this, and, forced to take labouring work, he collapsed one day from starvation. Fr Magennis, a sympathiser of the Irish republican cause, gave him a job, and they became great friends. However, when Mellows and McCartan wanted to return to Ireland, Devoy and Colohan, anxious perhaps after the centenary confrontations, told them that there were no ships sailing for Europe and that they could not leave America. ‘
John' Gifford's friend, Lucie Haslau, knew otherwise, and ‘
John' made plans for the two men to leave. She warned Mellows to tell neither Colohan nor Devoy of the plan, but McCartan said, thinking of Devoy's past, that it ‘would not be fair to the old man'. Because of this well-meaning kindness, both men were imprisoned in what was known as the ‘Tombs' prison in Manhattan, as a result of the disclosure. The deceit of the Clan na Gael diehards was exacerbated by the fact that they had told both Nora Connolly and the Gifford sisters that neither Mellows nor McCartan wanted to be bailed out because, allegedly, they felt ‘safe' in the Tombs.

Ada Gifford scotched that fabrication. She visited the prison, and Mellows assured her that they were most anxious to get out but that no one in the Clan had been willing to pay the bail. When ‘
John' heard this, she decided to approach Barney Murphy, a wealthy saloon owner who had Irish republican sympathies. He was responsive, but Colohan told him, ‘You don't want to get mixed up in this German plot.' However, Murphy paid the bail and left the Clan. Mellows and McCartan were released.

Mellows' ingenuity had shown itself when, on his arrest, he had quietly managed to toss a bundle of incriminating papers through the window of the police car taking him away. He had also feigned non-recognition of the ship's captain of the vessel on which he was to have sailed for Europe. The captain later wrote and thanked him for the presence of mind which had saved him from a long imprisonment. The ability of Mellows and McCartan eventually to make that journey was, in no small measure, owing to Isabella Gifford's daughters: Ada, whose visit to the jail disclosed the Clan's duplicity, and ‘
John' who elicited the necessary bail from Barney Murphy for their release.