Page 194 of The Missing Sister
‘But we wanted a republic,’ said Nuala. ‘Does this mean we’ll still be swearing allegiance to the feckin’ King of England?’
‘Nuala!’ her mother reprimanded her. ‘Well, Daniel, does it?’
‘Yes,’ said Daniel, his excitement completely vanquished. ‘And that part of the North of Ireland is being kept under British control.’
‘Jaysus Christ!’ murmured Fergus. ‘How can Mick Collins have agreed to this?’
‘I don’t know, but surely they can’t carve up our country?!’ cried Nuala.
‘’Tis a travesty,’ said Daniel, slamming his fist on the newspaper. ‘Mick Collins has had the wool pulled over his eyes by the British negotiators.’
‘He calls it “a stepping stone to Irish peace”,’ said Hannah. ‘Maybe he always knew he couldn’t get a republic out of the British immediately. At least this is a start, and we’ll have our own legal government here in the South.’
‘Yes, and the British will govern part of the North! ’Tis a stepping stone to hell more like, Hannah,’ raged Daniel. ‘Seven hundred years of British dominance, and it seems we’re no further on.’
‘De Valera should have gone to London,’ said Nuala. ‘Mick Collins wasn’t the right man for it.’
‘You say that now, but you were cheering him on during the summer when we got our truce!’ said Hannah, still loyal to her hero. ‘He’s done his best to protect us, bring us peace and an end to the killing!’
‘And at what price?!’ Nuala retorted furiously. ‘Having part ofourisland chopped away, and the South still a dominion of the United Kingdom?!’
‘Girls!’ said Eileen. ‘Calm yourselves. The Treaty hasn’t been approved by the Dáil government. The newspaper says de Valera is against it and will put up a fight. Just be glad the war is over.’
But what was the point of it all if we don’t have our republic?Nuala thought as she watched her red-faced Daddy reach for the whiskey bottle.
The plans that had been made to celebrate not only peace but the first Christmas free from British occupation were put on hold, as Ireland became a divided nation once more. The chatter in the villages and pubs was all of who was for Mick Collins and his pro-Treaty followers, and who stood firm with Éamon de Valera and his anti-Treaty faction of the Sinn Féin party.
‘Hannah just told me she and Ryan are staying home for Christmas lunch,’ Eileen said to Nuala as she dropped in to see her at her cottage for a cup of tea.
‘What was her excuse?’ asked Nuala numbly.
‘Well, she’s close to her time and—’
‘Mammy, so am I! Closer, in fact, and I’m still riding up with Finn to Cross Farm to spend the Holy Day with my family! ’Tis that Ryan; he’s knowing we’re all anti-Treaty and for de Valera, while he’s for his precious Mick.’
‘They are for peace, Nuala, as are many others. You can’t be blaming them for that,’ said Eileen.
Finn and Nuala welcomed their daughter Maggie safely into the world just after Christmas. Hannah and Ryan’s son John was born at the beginning of January, amid Irish politicians shouting furiously as they debated the Treaty in the Dáil. Despite her new babe, and the happiness she felt at being a mother, Nuala feverishly followed the news, praying that de Valera’s anti-Treaty faction would triumph. When Mick Collins and the pro-Treaty lot won the vote in the Dáil, Éamon de Valera stepped down as president, in protest at parliament approving it, and was now putting his full energy into physically fighting it. An election was looming, the first of this strange new ‘Irish Free State’ that the South had become. Political turmoil continued in Dublin throughout the spring, and the IRA, which had ballooned with new recruits during the months of the truce, was now turning against itself, as weary soldiers declared which side they were on. Led by de Valera, anti-Treaty soldiers began to take matters into their own hands and seized state buildings, including the central Four Courts in Dublin, where the Easter Rising had begun in 1916.
‘How dare they act against the law like this?’ Hannah fumed, as she and Nuala sat on their bench overlooking Courtmacsherry Bay, John and Maggie on their laps. ‘Can’t they see that this Treaty is giving us the freedom to achieve freedom?’ Hannah parroted the slogan that Mick Collins had been spreading to garner support.
‘He’s in the pockets of the British now,’ Nuala scoffed. ‘Finn told me he heard what Collins said after he’d signed the Treaty – that he’d just signed his own death warrant. He knew true Irish republicans would denounce it, so.’
‘Are you saying I’m not a true Irish republican?’ Hannah bristled. ‘’Twas me who brought you into Cumann na mBan if you remember, sister.’
‘And ’twas me and Finn who fought to the very end of the war,’ retorted Nuala. ‘I can’t be talking to you any longer if you insist on swallowing Mick Collins’s propaganda.’ With that, she stood up, put Maggie in her sling and walked home, fuming all the way.
It was in June, when little Maggie had just started on solid food, that Nuala read the newspaper with a sinking heart.
‘De Valera and the anti-Treaty representatives have lost. The pro-Treaty Collins lot have won the election!’ she cried out to her husband, who was coming down the stairs, doing up his tie in readiness for his day at Clogagh School. ‘The Irish people voted for his despicable Treaty, Finn! How could they, after all they’ve –we’ve– done to fight for a republic?!’
Nuala laid her head on the table and sobbed.
‘Ah, Nuala, darlin’, I know ’tis a disaster. But if politics fail—’
‘War begins again, and this time ’twill be brother against brother. Jesus, Finn, I can’t even think of what that’ll mean. Families around these parts are already divided over the Treaty. Look at our own,’ she added as she stared up at him, tears still streaming down her face. ‘Hannah told me proudly she and Ryan had voted for Michael Collins! She’d better not be showing her face round here after this! I’ll drag her up to Cross Farm and get her to curtsey to the King of England in front of her Fenian father! And her brother Fergus, and you and our friends and neighbours who risked their lives for a republic!’
‘I know, Nuala, I know...’
