Queer Women of the 1916 Rising

The contribution of women in the 1916 Rising is a sadly underreported one. The historical narrative familiar to most details the struggle of a small but doomed band of brave men battling the insurmountable might of the British empire. But there were women who took part in the Rising, many women, and among them were more than a few women who loved women. That their contributions have been not just overlooked, but in some cases, literally airbrushed out of the 1916 story is a tragic disservice to Ireland’s heroic women.

Although ‘lesbian’ isn’t necessarily how they would’ve identified themselves – it is important to approach any discussion in the context of the time – the fact is that some of the women of the Rising were in same-sex relationships, and unapologetically so.

Kathleen Lynn was one such woman. Born in Mayo in 1874, Lynn was a doctor (her portrait, the only female face among a sea of masculine oil paintings, still hangs in the Royal College of Surgeons), a suffragette, an active member of the labour movement and was chief medical officer during the Rising. Madeleine ffrench-Mullen born in Malta, was the daughter of British Naval Officer with Irish connections and an ardent suffragist.

Portrait of Kathleen.jpg

Lynn’s portrait, which still graces the Royal College of Surgeons, Dublin

The pair met during the 1913 Lock Out, where Lynn was giving first aid lectures and administering free medical treatment to the striking workers and their families, and the two remained together until Madeleine’s death in 1944. Both women joined the Irish Citizen Army together providing medical support and on Easter Monday, Lynn found herself based at the unenviable position of City Hall (which backs onto Dublin Castle, HQ of the British Army), while ffrench Mullen was at College Green.

When Lynn arrived at City Hall with medical supplies she discovered that Sean Connolly, an actor in charge of that garrison, had been mortally wounded by an errant gunshot. When it became clear the he wouldn’t survive, she found herself as the ranking officer of the group of 16 men and nine women stationed there and so, assumed command of the outpost. Its proximity to the headquarters of the British Army meant that it came under heavy fire and after a single day the rebels were arrested.

The legend goes that when the commanding British officer demanded to see the ranking rebel officer for his surrender, he was aghast to learn that it was a woman. Eventually the shock faded enough for him and his troops to escort Lynn to Ship Street barracks, before transferring them to Kilmainham. Sharing a squalid cell with Lynn, Ffrench-Mullen wrote in her diary at the time that “as long as we are left together, prison was somewhat bearable”. Later Lynn was transferred to Mountjoy, which she noted was a cleaner jail with better conditions for prisoners, but wrote in her diary “but I would give £10,000 to be back in Kilmainham with Madeleine.”

After the Rising in 1919, Lynn and ffrench Mullen, together with many of their female comrades founded St Ultans hospital, the first all-female staffed hospital for infants in the country. The couple lived together in Rathmines until ffrench-Mullen’s death in 1944.


Lynn (3rd from left) and ffrench-Mullen (far left) with Lord Mayor Alfie Byrne and other dignitaries outside St Ultans (circa 1930)

Despite what appears to be overwhelming evidence to suggest that Lynn and ffrench-Mullen were in a longstanding same-sex relationship with each other, this was until recently a matter of contention among some historians. The lesbians of the Rising were in essence hiding in plain sight. Since they didn’t identify as lesbians (such popular determinations were still years away), and since they were living unconventional lives away from the kitchen sink and the trappings of domesticity anyway, scrutiny about their sexuality was non-existent.

“They were able to have those relationships in plain sight because of course they were two women living together, two unmarried or ‘spinster’ women as we could call it, and that was not unusual in that society,” says Dr Mary McAuliffe, lecturer in Women’s Histories at UCD. “So they didn’t have to come out, they didn’t have to do that identification because it was quite normal for two women who had not married to live together as companions, as friends.

“The fact that we know they had more than that in their lives comes through in diaries and memoirs and private correspondence about them – it isn’t in the public record, but their hidden history is part of the hidden history of women anyway, and if women were hidden, lesbian women were twice as hidden.

“So a lot of the women who participated in 1916, gay or straight, their histories got airbrushed out of history and it’s only in the last 20/30/40 years we’re beginning to write those histories back in and we begin with those who are more obvious and then we look at the hidden aspects of those histories.

“For example, some of the heterosexual women were having affairs before they got married which was a hidden history as well. If they had been found out they would have been condemned by society, would they have ended up in a Magdalene laundry? You have to think about it like that. At that time sexuality for women was constructed as reproductive, marital and passive – you didn’t make choices around sexuality if you were a woman, straight or gay. So, the histories of sexuality for all women are pretty hidden but if you’re anything other than straight, it’s really difficult to find those histories. “

Another notable and often overlooked couple were Elizabeth O’Farrell and Julia Grenan. Friends since childhood, both women were nurses stationed at the GPO.

It was O’Farrell who brought out the white flag of surrender and whose feet were literally airbrushed out of a photograph so it showed Padraig Pearse surrendering alone.


A sequence of the original pre-doctored images: O’Farrell, whose feet are visible  beside Padraig Pearse in the first two images, was removed from the final one

The women lived together their whole lives and were buried in the same plot in Glasnevin cemetery. The inscription mentions Elizabeth O’Farrell then adds ‘And her faithful comrade and lifelong friend, Sheila Grenan’. The subtle language of the hidden homosexual. “That’s the type of language that was used for people who were committed to each other, both personally and politically – they said ‘lifelong companion’, ‘lifelong friend’, ‘my friend’ – they used terms like that because they don’t have other language in a way we have today,” says McAuliffe.


O’Farrell and Grenan’s grave at Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin

Despite being imprisoned along with Kathleen Lynn rather early on Easter week, Helena Malony, an Abbey actress, was another unheralded but key member of the Rising. She was unquenchably radical, even trying to dig her way out of Kilmainham gaol with a spoon after her capture. Kathleen Lynn later attributed her politicism in part to the influence of Malony who stayed with her and ffrench Mullens in the basement flat of their Rathmines home.



Helena Malony

Born in 1883 and orphaned early in her life, Malony was a radical committed to the intertwined causes of feminism, the labour movement and national sovereignty. In 1908 she established ‘Bean na hEireann’ a monthly magazine advocating ‘militancy, separatism and feminism’ – the only magazine promoting physically aggressive republicanism. In 1911 she earned the distinction of being the first Irish political prisoner of her generation after vandalising a portrait of George V during his visit to Ireland. She was bailed out, but was overjoyed when she was rearrested for calling the monarch a scoundrel. “That was marvellous; I felt myself in the same company as Wolfe Tone,” she later said of her brief arrest.


So enthusiastically did she believe in the cause of the Rising that she spent the weeks leading up to the event sleeping on a pile of coats at workers’ co-operative store adjoining Liberty Hall, with a revolver under her pillow. She was involved an a dramatic raid on Dublin Castle which resulted in the murder of an unarmed police officer, before being capture in City Hall and imprisoned in Ship Street barracks. She was then moved to Kilmainham Gaol where she was traumatised by the executions of the Rising’s leaders. After a failed but valiant attempt to dig her way out with a spoon, she became one of only 5 women to be transferred to a decrepit jail in Aylesbury, England together with 2,500 of the conflict’s male combatants.

After her release she continued to campaign for equality for women (and against the rescinding of the principle of equal citizenship enshrined in the Proclamation) against a pro-Treaty Labour Party and a male-dominated trade union. Despite opposition to her firebrand ways, she was elected president of the Irish Trade Union in 1937, becoming only the second women to hold the office. Despite a number of affairs with men (including Sean Connolly) she lived with psychiatrist Evelyn O’Brien, from the 1940s until her death 1967.

“I’m pretty sure that Helena was bisexual,” says Marie Mulholland, author of The Politics and Relationships of Kathleen Lynn. “Helena had a number of affairs with men but certainly the last 20 years of her life she spent with a woman, a psychiatrist called Evelyn O’ Brien, and when Dr O B died, her family insured that all over her personal papers were destroyed which is always an indication that something is being hidden by the family.”

Another possible addition to the queer pantheon of Rising heroes is Margaret Skinnider, a slacks-wearing sharpshooter who was the only woman to be injured during the Rising.


Scottish sharpshooter Margaret Skinnider

Born in Scotland in 1892, the daughter of Irish parents, Skinnider became an active participant in the women’s suffrage movement and the fight for Irish independence as a young woman. After getting involved with Constance Markievicz, Skinnider began smuggling bomb making equipment and detonators into Dublin (hidden under her hat) ahead of the Rising.

She joined the Irish Citizen Army as a dispatch rider and was a scout and sniper for the St Stephen’s Green garrison. She was mentioned three times for bravery in dispatches sent to the GPO, before being shot 3 times – the only woman to have been shot – and hospitalised. She wore only men’s clothing during this time. “In pictures of Margaret she is always dressed in boys clothes and she insisted on being dressed as a boy for the Rising, because since she was a crack shot, she had to move very quickly around the city as a sniper and she wanted to be able to move efficiently and so she poo-pooed the idea of being in a skirt,” says Mulholland.

Skinnider didn’t brook any discussion about her right and capability to take place in such a violent uprising, telling a sexist commander that “we had the same right to risk our lives as the men; that in the constitution of the Irish Republic, women were on an equality with men. For the first time in history, indeed, a constitution had been written that incorporated the principle of equal suffrage.”

After her injuries, she was deemed too ill for imprisonment and managed to evade capture on her release from hospital. She fled to Glasgow before making her way to the US where she fundraised for the republican cause.

She was active during the War of Independence and Civil War (she opposed the Treaty)and in 1922 became paymaster General for the IRA. She was eventually imprisoned and held in the North Dublin Union where she became Director of Training for the prisoners.

After her release from prison she worked as a teacher in the Sisters of Charity primary school in Kings Inn Street, Dublin where she remained until her retirement in 1961. She became President of the INTO in 1956, where she continued to campaign for the rights of women. She never married and died 1971.

Finally, after 100 years, the contributions of these women and the stories of their lives – and loves – are beginning to surface, helping us to expand understanding of the events of 1916.

“It’s changing and we see that they did contribute, that they were vital to the fight for Irish freedom, and that their personal lives and their personal histories, whether they were straight or gay or whatever, their stories are absolutely central to our understanding of social, economic, political histories of the time,” says McAuliffe.

For some people though, there will never be enough proof of the definitive nature of women like Kathleen Lynn, Elizabeth O’Farrell and Helena Malony’s sexual orientations. “There is resistance. People are still homophobic, backwards sometimes. People say: ‘there is no proof’ and it is very difficult to find proof. How much proof do you actually want?”

This article originally appeared in GCN Issue 316, April 2016.


Eddie the Eagle/ Mammal/ Bastille Day

Fittingly released on April Fools Day is Eddie the Eagle (April 1) a Cool Runnings-y tale of well, not exactly, triumph over adversity, more like perseverance in the face of adversity.

The story is sure to raise a smirk from anyone who remembers The Eagle’s plucky Winter Olympic performances, as well as a little bafflement that someone, somewhere considered his story film-worthy, instead of just hilariously pathetic.

The film opens on Eddie (Taron Egerton, Kingsman: Secret Service) as a clumsy kid in the ’70s, outfitted in comically oversized coke bottle glasses, dreaming of Olympic glory in his bedroom while the other children are on the streets bopping away to the funky tunes of the Bay City Rollers.

In a cannily strategic move, he decides to forgo the glamorous, but highly contested summer Olympic Games, and instead aim for the subzero and altogether more attainable, winter Olympics.

Although Eddie manages to become a somewhat competant skiier, he is a bit chavvy for the refined Olympic officials and is rejected for the British squad. However, Eddie is nothing if not a pragmatist and when he realises that he could actually qualify for the national squad as a ski jumper (since the UK hadn’t entered a competitor in it in 60 years), that’s what he decides to do, despite having no jump experience.

So, off he skies to the snowy peaks of Germany where he begins training in earnest (Eddie the earnest Eagle) despite having not a single clue about the correct technique for skiing off an 40ft ramp at high speed. Luckily, disgraced former jumper and now drunken snow ‘groomer’ Bronson Peary (Hugh Jackman) is on hand to turn Eddie’s earnest enthusiasm into ski-jumping supremcy. Throw in some sneering Scandanavians who grudgingly grow to admire Eddie , some rousing speeches about following your dreams etc, and you’ve got the general gist.

Tense and atmospheric, Mammal (April 1) is explores the unusual relationship between two deeply damaged people.

Forty-something divorcee Margaret (Muriel’s Wedding‘s Rachel Griffiths) is a solitary figure, only truly engaging with the world during her trips to the local swimming pool. Her solitude is shattered when ex-husband Matt (Michael McElhattan, Game of Thrones) calls to tell her that the teenage son she abandoned as an infant is missing. This coincides with the appearance of a homeless youth named Joe (Barry Keoghan, aka the Love/ Hate cat killer) in Margaret’s life.

As the pair being to bond, questions about the nature of the relationship comes to the fore: is it maternal? Sexual? Or symbiotic neediness? Writer/director Rebacca Daly does a great job of maintaining the tension and keeping these questions simmmering through.

Lastly, in a delightful little reversal of the ‘American actor playing English person and making a complete mess of the accent’ is Bastille Day (April 22) starring an English dude (Idris Elba) and a Scottish dude (Game of Throne‘s Richard Madden) as a couple of Americans. HA! Somewhere Donald Trump is composing a speech proposing to build a wall around Hollywood to stop the Limeys stealing American actors’ jobs.

Anyway, the plot of this by-the-numbers action-thriller kicks off when prodigious pickpocket Michael (Madden) picks the wrong pocket (well, bag) one day and finds himself embroiled in large-scale criminal conspiracy that goes to the heart of the very police force. Exciting! Field agent Sean Briar (Idris ‘Bond Shell’ Elba) suavely recruits Michael to help track down the source of the corruption and kick some crooked ass, while dodging bullets and jumping out of windows while buildings explode in the background.

And there is still a reluctance to making this man Bond? Get it together Hollywood!