AT THREE o’clock on Friday, Free State troops entered the Four Courts in Dublin and took 33 prisoners.

Although the chief citadel of the Communist irregulars has fallen, some days must pass before order is restored.

The streets were exceedingly dangerous on Thursday, and no fewer than 11 civilians were killed, while 25 were wounded. Business was at a standstill.

All day long on Thursday, the din of battle rang in the ears of Dubliners, as shots and shells thundered against the granite walls of the Four Courts.

At five o’clock, three great booms thundered through the morning air, and by the time the Angelus bells pealed, the sound of rifle, machine guns and heavier artillery had blended in the wild fantasia that was the prelude to another day of strife.

It was impossible to get anywhere near the Four Courts, around which the struggle raged more hotly as the morning advanced.

And the fighting was no longer confined to the immediate vicinity of the Four Courts. The irregulars early spread their activities to best-known localities in the centre of the city.

Around 11 o’clock, Dame Street witnessed a desperate and mortal affray, in which an irregular was fatally wounded, and two others as well as a Dail soldier wounded.

Street fighting rapidly developed in the vicinity of College Green, and another 15 minutes saw a determined attack on Dail troops at the point where Fleet Street joins Westmoreland Street. Bursting bombs and exploding grenades sent terrified citizens flying to safety.

The sightseers of the day before who came out to the spectacular side of war began to grasp the grim realities of the situations.

The quays were no longer thronged with eager and curious onlookers.

Small knots gathered behind the gables of the side streets, looking towards the Liffey, or peeped around corners towards the great dome of the fortress which the Dail troops were attacking.

At last the citizens had begun to exercise caution. A new danger – the terror of the sniper– had developed with alarming rapidity. Many a rooftop had now its invisible messenger of death.

Many a non-combatant heard a stray bullet flatten itself nearby, as a reminder that he was safer indoors.