was blown up with dynamite at the
corner of North Earl Street, making a sort of barricade against any
possible approach from Amiens Street Station, where the Belfast trains
were expected to arrive.

By this time I was on the scene of the crisis myself, having only heard
the news on my way into Trinity, which had been quickly occupied by the
O.T.C., who were thus able to practically cut the chief line of
communication of the rebels and command a huge area of important streets
which would otherwise have presented the utmost difficulties to the
advance of regular troops.

Only the military were allowed in College, and, anxious to be on the
spot at what everybody then expected would be no more than an hour or
so's brisk encounter, I took a car to the "Metropole" in order to be
present when the Post Office was taken--the hotel actually adjoining and
overlooking the building.

My own experience must have been that of thousands of people in Dublin,
but I quote it, as I will quote it again, because I can personally
testify to it.

Everyone at the hotel was in a state of consternation, for hardly six
yards away the windows of the Post Office were crashing to the ground in
the street, and at everyone bags of refuse were being piled up, and the
muzzles of rifles were commanding all the windows of the hotel guests.

Several soldiers were staying at the "Metropole," and as I saw the Sinn
Feiners watching us, I suggested their changing the khaki into mufti, if
only for the safety of the civilians--for on all sides soldiers were
being shot at sight by snipers--a suggestion which found acceptance, for
most of the officers were young subalterns on leave, and therefore
unarmed.

For a long time we could not tell what was going to happen; every
minute we expected the soldiers or the constabulary, and peered
anxiously out, but it seemed as if they were never coming, and men in
the hotel were anxiously consulting what to do and women packing up
their jewels.

The one man who all the while kept as cool as a cucumber was Mr. Oliver,
the manager of the "Metropole."

At last there came a martial tap, tap at the glass door of the hall
entrance, from an officer arrayed in green and gold, wearing cocked hat
and feathers and high top-boots, with a sword in one hand and a revolver
in the other.

Behind him were two minor officials, each armed with a loaded rifle of
modern pattern, with bayonets fixed.

I was at Mr. Oliver's side at t