Beschreibung:

1916 PRISON DIARY An important manuscript Diary describing a Volunteer's arrest and detention in Dublin after the Easter Rising of 1916, including a last conversation with Sean Mac Diarmada at Richmond Barracks, written in pencil on both sides of a single long sheet of flimsy paper, probably toilet or cleaning paper from the barracks. The manuscript is unsigned, and the Volunteer is identified only as 'Seamus'; he may have been a post office worker. He describes how he was arrested at his home in Kingstown on the evening of Sunday April 30th (a day after the Rising ended), when detectives arrived to search the house. They found copies of 'The Spark' and 'Irish Freedom', a letter from Cumann na mBan, and an empty cartridge case, and claimed he had been seen by neighbours with a rifle on Mellifont Avenue. He was taken to Kingstown Police Station where he spent the night. He expected to be tried, or perhaps shot without trial, as someone had said there was to be no quarter. The following day (1 May) his wife was allowed to bring him food; later he and other prisoners were marched under armed escort to the quay, put on a boat and brought to the Kish lightship where they spent the night. On Tuesday 2 May they were brought in a motor van to Richmond Barracks, and put in a crowded room with about forty suspects, including looters, some of them wounded; one of those in the room was 'poor Sean Mac Diarmada', whom he evidently knew. Early on 3 May, there were some reports of shots - 'I suppose they were the death knell of Pearse etc., RIP.' They were given bully beef, some biscuits and tea. On a visit to the lavatory, 'I had my last chat with Sean [Mac Diarmada]. 'O Seamus, said he. Dia a's Muire agat Sean, said I. Then he said, How are you feeling, said Sean. I replied, Well, and hoped he was the same. He said he was, and I was marched by never to see poor Sean again.' On May 4th, several men were sick, the room was very dirty, an officer came in who had heard someone curse. He had two revolvers, and threatened to 'plug' the first man he heard, called us a lot of 'dirty skunks'. No water supplied during day, 'men ill during night, room very dirty'. On 5 May the room was becoming unhealthy, some buckets and mops were supplied and the room was cleaned out. Later they were taken out and marched through town in heavy rain, past Four Courts, O'Connell St., Eden Quay, Liberty Hall, 'passing which the soldier recommended us to 'cast our 2 F- eyes on F- Liberty Hall for the last F-g time and see what they F-g well done to it.' An officer ordered the men if any signalling was attempted, 'to bayonet him'. They were embarked on a steamer and placed in the foreport, used for cattle. The smell was dreadful, due to the effects of the bully beef, but 'we left Dublin singing and then we said the Rosary'. On May 6th they arrived at Holyhead and were taken by train to Wakefield Prison, where Seamus was placed in Cell B2-37, which perhaps may assist in identifying him. They were given bread and butter and a bed to sleep on. 'Thank God for the bed - this was the first time I had my clothes off since night [of] April 29-30'. The account breaks off there; presumably it was smuggled out of Wakefield. It is a unique and remarkable document, a convincing and unemotional account of what must have been a frightening experience. It is probably the best account of the dreadful conditions faced by those held in Richmond Barracks. The handwriting is faded and difficult to follow in places, but with patience it can be worked out. The paper is very fragile, and should not be removed from the plastic sleeve. Sean Mac Diarmada was detained after the Republican surrender at Moore St., but was not recognised as one of the leaders, and was taken to Richmond Barracks with many others. He was in line for transport to the docks when a detective named Hoey picked him out and sent him back, to face court martial and execution with James Connolly on May 12, the last of the lead