n possession of Brunswick Street, and portions
of Talbot Street and North Earl Street, while from D'Olier Street a
fusillade swept O'Connell Bridge, and from T.C.D. a 9-pounder began to
batter down Kelly's corner house and send shells along Bachelors' Walk.
Everybody now expected the collapse of the rebels, who were being
captured on all sides, and crowds of British pressmen, with special
facilities for the edification of neutral countries, began to arrive.
Certainly never had journalists ever had such a finale to send flashing
along the wires; for a cordon of soldiers completely encircled the city
on every side, and grew gradually tighter and tighter around the Post
Office, the heart of the rebel position. From all sides shells now began
to drop into Sackville Street, and we knew that it was the beginning of
the end.
That end was in every way as dramatic as the beginning--a melodrama
worthy of the Lyceum at its best--and for thirty hours, as the
artillery thundered, the sky was one huge blaze of flame, which, at one
time, threatened to engulf the whole northern centre of the city in a
sea of fire.
Driven from Kelly's corner, which commanded the left entrance to
Sackville Street, the insurgents still held Hopkins's corner on the
other side, and on this the artillery next concentrated not only high
explosive shells but incendiary bombs as well, and the whole place
became a mass of blazing ruins, the flames leaping across Lower Abbey
Street like a prairie fire.
Whether this was intentional or inevitable, one thing was certain, and
that was that nothing could stand up against it--it meant utter
annihilation as far as human lives were concerned, absolute ruination as
far as material property.
That strong measures had been found necessary, however, had been proved
by the appointment of a military dictator in General Sir John Maxwell,
with plenary powers, and the announcement of Mr. Asquith in the House
that the situation had still serious features, and that there seemed to
be indications of the movement spreading to other parts of the country,
especially the West.
Yet one thing must have been particularly pleasing to announce, and that
was the total isolation of the movement as a political campaign, both
Sir Edward Carson and Mr. John Redmond disclaiming all responsibility,
while in Drogheda the National Volunteers, according to a telegram from
the Viceroy, actually turned out to assist the military.
This b
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