Brady. She was born on 12 February 1857 to Bridget Savage, a celebrated step dancer from Oldcastle, Co. Dublin, and Patrick Brady, a coal factor from Dublin. The Brady family lived in North Clarence Street, Dublin but also had a property at 7 Aldborough Avenue. Margaret and her sister, Catherine (b.1852), received their education at the Daughters of Charity of St Vincent de Paul School, North William Street which was established by the Religious Sisters of Charity in 1825 and later transferred to the Daughters of Charity in 1857. While working as an assistant at a newsagent and post office on Great Brunswick Street, she met James Pearse, a customer who purchased a newspaper every morning on his way to his rented premises at 27 Great Brunswick Street. After the death of his first wife, James had a clear vision for his future happiness. Letters written during his courtship with Margaret emphasised his belief that the creation and sustainment of a loving and secure home environment was the key to achieving true happiness:
I think it must be a great blessing and consolation to be permitted to pass through this world of change with one who will be all to you at all times, one whom you can turn to when the world frowns. A home in which you can find peace and rest. I believe I could make great efforts to render such a home happy.5
James cited Margaret’s homeliness as one of her most appealing characteristics. He described her as ‘a grand looking woman with dark hair and eyes, no nonsense about her, plump and ... homely yet bright and full of life’.6 It is unclear exactly when their courtship began, but by the end of 1876, a mere five months after the death of James’s wife, they had already met for a number of dates at Bachelor’s Walk and the corner of Westmoreland Street and Carlisle Bridge (now O’Connell Bridge). The courtship was not always smooth as is evinced from some of their correspondence housed at the National Library of Ireland. Due to illness, James and Margaret were unable to meet from Christmas 1876 until some time after St Patrick’s Day (17 March) 1877. James declared that the more care he took of himself, the worse his condition became.7 Nevertheless, Margaret’s patience was beginning to wane and she expressed doubts about the viability of their relationship and dissatisfaction that she had not met his children. But James was determined to continue their courtship, declaring that Margaret’s affection had filled ‘a great void in [his] existence.’8
After a brief engagement, James and Margaret planned their nuptials for 24 October 1877 at the Church of St Agatha, North William Street, Dublin; she had been baptised there on 16 February 1857. Despite the fact that it was commonplace for widowers with children to remarry and that Margaret’s marriage would have been regarded as a good match in terms of social class, Margaret’s parents had some reservations about the impending nuptials, in particular, the challenge for Margaret of raising two step-children. To the annoyance of the young couple, they suggested the wedding be delayed by a few weeks. James insisted that Margaret’s family were aware of his good character but he accepted that Margaret’s parents only had their daughter’s interests at heart. He implored Margaret to be patient and to inform her parents ‘to save their scolding for’ him.9 The wedding was not postponed and both Patrick and Bridget Brady attended the nuptials. Margaret’s sister, Catherine, of 160 Great Brunswick Street, and James’s friend, John McGloughlin, acted as their witnesses. By all accounts, the marriage of James and Margaret was a happy one; they set up home (and business) along with Mary Emily and James Vincent in a rented property at 27 Great Brunswick Street, a large building which was sublet to other families.
Eighteen seventy-eight proved to be a productive year for James. He embarked on a ten-year partnership with his foreman, Edmund Sharp, and in August of that year, Margaret gave birth to their first child, Margaret Mary, known as ‘wow-wow’ and ‘Maggie’ to her family. Margaret was a precocious, bossy child. She adored her father ‘Papa’ and was very proud of his achievements. He, in turn, indulged her every whim. Fifteen months after her birth, Patrick Henry was born. Patrick became seriously ill at the age of six months and the family doctor advised that there was a poor prospect of survival; the infant, however, survived. Their half-sister Emily later wrote about Patrick’s ‘sweet uncomplaining patience’ during his illness and she noted that this was part of the young Patrick’s gentle nature and natural reserve.10
Patrick’s earliest recollection of family life was of playing with his sister in the dimly-lit living-room in the basement of their home in Great Brunswick Street and the distinctive sounds of that space:
the carolling of the black fire-fairy, the ticking of a clock, and the rhythmic tap-tapping which came all day from the workshop. In this tap-tapping there were two distinct notes: one sharp and metallic, which I knew afterwards to be the sound of a chisel against hard marble; the other soft and dull, subsequently to be recognised as the sound of a chisel against Caen stone.11
Margaret was delighted to have a younger sibling with whom she could play, but perhaps, more importantly, whom she could ‘enlighten’. As the elder sibling, Margaret’s opinion invariably prevailed. Patrick recalled, ‘[s]he insisted that her wisdom and experience were riper than mine, and, by dint of hearing this again and again repeated, I came to believe it and to entertain for her a serious respect.’12 On one occasion, Margaret encouraged Patrick to cut the tail off a toy horse his father had brought him from London; because the mane and tail of the ‘London horse’ were made of real horse’s hair, Margaret convinced him that it would grow back. When it did not, Patrick soon realised that Margaret was not as wise or knowledgeable as she unfailingly led him to believe.
Margaret and Patrick played happily together as young children but because she was ‘both bigger and of a more dominating character’,13 she dictated the content and nature of their playtime, which frequently irked Patrick. She had a particular penchant for re-enacting battles that occasionally resulted in fatalities. Patrick believed that Margaret should take responsibility for burying her own dead, but to his great annoyance, Dobbin, a treasured wooden horse carved by his father, was often commandeered to carry the dead on a solemn journey for burial at Glasnevin Cemetery. These childhood games were simple but fondly remembered. Margaret and Patrick were most content sitting with their parents in the drawing room in front of the fire watching the fire-fairy or playing with their pets, Minnie, the lazy cat who invariably positioned himself at the centre of the hearth, and Gyp, their accident-prone hyperactive dog.
Margaret and Patrick had many adventures in their drawing room in Great Brunswick Street, traversing its floor ‘in sleighs, in Roman chariots, in howdahs on the backs of elephants’ and bravely travelling into remote corners of the room ‘where wild beasts prowled’.14 The children believed that their toys came to life at night time when silence descended on the household. They imagined that their dolls competed in races on the ‘London Horse’, that their toy cows grazed under the furniture and that Patrick’s white goat climbed the treacherous vertical cliff otherwise known as the Pearse’s couch. One night, while Margaret slept, Patrick crept downstairs to observe their toys’ nocturnal adventures, alas with no success. Fear of the dark prevented Patrick from spying on the toys again.
Margaret and Patrick were raised with their ‘devoted half-sister’15 Emily and half-brother James Vincent. Emily was often charged with caring for her siblings and she taught them to read and write. She was patient and encouraging to her eager students and fostered in them a love of reading, which had been nurtured in her by her father. James read widely and his library included books from a variety of genres such as biblical studies, Irish and European history, literary classics and dictionaries. His collection also included a copy of the Koran and biographies of William Cobbett and John Wilkes, both radical journalists and supporters of Catholic emancipation. Although James may have read to his children, it was Emily’s magical stories filled with heroic figures and mythical monsters that stimulated their imaginations. In the years that followed, the Pearse children would re-enact many of these early childhood fantasies in the theatrical setting of their parlour.
Margaret and Patrick were constant companions in their formative years, but the arrival of their brother William James (Willie) in 1881 ended forever the close bond they had shared in early childhood. Their mother became seriously ill following Willie’s birth and the newborn was sent to be cared for
