Tom Barry Page 14
Further to this proclamation, General Sir Neville Macready, the commander-in-chief, issued his own proclamation stating that persons caught with illegal arms or explosives were liable to sentence of death. Public meetings were forbidden and every householder was required to affix to the inside of the front door a list of the occupants by age, sex and occupation.[20]
The following proclamation was posted up in Macroom and printed in all the daily papers:
NEW POLICE ORDER IN MACROOM
December 1st, 1920
Whereas foul murders of servants of the crown have been carried out by disaffected persons, and whereas such persons immediately before the murders appeared to be peaceful and loyal people, but have produced pistols from their pockets, therefore it is ordered that all males passing through Macroom shall not appear in public with their hands in their pockets. Any male infringing this order is liable to be shot at sight.
By order.
AUXILIARY DIVISION, R.I.C. Macroom Castle[21]
The declaration of regional Martial Law meant that the British establishment ‘now recognised the IRA as an army and not, as they had previously suggested, rebel murderers’.[22]
Meanwhile the fight of Barry and his men had to continue; it was a fight for survival, a fight for success. For three days he manoeuvred his men in zigzag fashion across the countryside. Often they narrowly avoided a clash with the British. Troops scoured the country, from Dunmanway, Ballineen, Bandon, Crookstown and Macroom. The Volunteers had to be prepared to live rough, remain ‘on the run’ and try to avoid capture.
Reprisals by burning, looting, pot-shots at civilians and beating were carried out in all the surrounding areas of Kilmichael and Macroom. Shops, homes, hay barns, outhouses were destroyed at Kilmichael, Johnstown and Inchageela. Several farmhouses for miles around Kilmichael were burned. In the Corn Mills and home of McDonnell’s, Castlelack, a distance away, the Essex Regiment ‘made a shambles of the place’ – furniture ‘smashed and set alight; business records and valuable books feeding the flames. Bathroom flooding had brought down the dining-room ceiling, ruining the room and its contents. In every direction damage was evident.’[23]Most of the local houses around Kilmichael and Shanacashel were burned, including O’Donoghue’s, Kelly’s and O’Mahony’s – houses close to the ambush site.[24] According to Charlie Browne: ‘The force created some thorough scoundrels who used unsparingly the power handed out to them by an unscrupulous government.’ Charlie’s house was burned. Dan Corkery’s house and business were bombed to the ground also Cornelius Kelleher’s home as well as several others in Cork No. 1 Brigade area. Peter Hart wrote that, ‘Only a few half-hearted reprisals against houses and hay-sheds were carried out around Macroom, belying their [the Auxiliaries] reputation as terrorists’. However, many accounts show that the reprisals led to largescale looting and burnings of dwellings and outhouses. It spread over Cork No. 1 and Cork No. 3 brigade areas. The local school was closed for two weeks. ‘Many of the locals left home and went to stay with friends and relations as they knew the Auxiliaries would be back’.[25]
Over the weeks that followed, the homes of many of those who had participated in the ambush were raided. The forces from Dunmanway raided Pat O’Donovan’s Drominidy home ‘wrecked the house, broke ware, furniture and even tore up sheets.’ They told his mother and sister to have the coffin ready. Two weeks later they got word to send a shirt and stockings. ‘At least we knew he was alive’, his sister recalled.[26]
On the night of 3 December a car was to pick up Tom Barry and three rifle-men, then collect the sergeant’s brother who would be taken with a gun trained on him to the rendezvous with the Essex sergeant. Barry, whose chest pains had been intermittent, got a sudden spasm and collapsed. When he regained consciousness he was in McCarthy’s, Kilmoylerane, being anointed by a priest while Dr Fehilly stood by. For four days and nights he lay almost motionless, while Cumann na mBan girls, a nurse and Pat O’Mahony watched and waited. The doctor said that his heart had been displaced, and under no circumstances could he be moved. He was ‘extremely ill’. On the fifth day wrapped in blankets he was lifted into a car and taken to the Mercy Hospital Cork.[27]Here he remained, in secret, with a displaced heart condition for all of December. Seán MacCárthaig, IO, who had ‘jumped’ on his bike to make ‘provision for a wounded volunteer’ was ‘amazed to see the patient’ in the bed as Tom’s identity was known to only a few while his progress was carefully monitored.[28]
Lieut Jim O’Donoghue and section-commander Joe Begley were accompanying Capt. John Galvin to where Galvin was to meet Tom Barry outside Bandon. O’Donoghue and Begley, unaware Barry was ill and could not turn up, were about to turn back, when Essex Regiment men sprung on them. The following morning the three maltreated bodies were found on the roadside. The savage killing of these men reverberated throughout the county and beyond. ‘It is perhaps just as well that there are no details of treatment meted out …’ Barry wrote.[29]When this episode in Barry’s serialisation appeared in the Irish Press John Galvin’s brother, Miah, wrote to Tom Barry. He believed his brother was armed, that Tom had misrepresented him. In response, Tom wrote that ‘two brigade officers and John were to be only those who were aware of the proposal for above all the Essex sergeant had to be assured of the secrecy of the move.’ They were ‘certainly unarmed on that night and got no chance whatever to fight for their lives by the savages who butchered them. The note I sent John was to “come alone and come unarmed”… I would burn the book if I thought I had belittled any man who died for Ireland. Indeed, the book would never have been written except that I wanted to record for all time the sacrifices of the men of that generation … I did not want it serialised atal (sic) but the Irish Press got after me and pressed me very hard, in addition to offering me a good sum of money. I still refused until it dawned on me that if I agreed to serialisation, it would enable anyone to write me and point out any omissions I had unwittingly made of any man’s sacrifice … I am more than glad you wrote me.’ He explained the episode in detail to Miah. On 23 February 1921 when ‘two naval wireless men stationed with the Essex in Bandon’ were captured ‘they were allowed to live because they proved that they did not take up station in Bandon until a week after the lads were killed. They stated, however that they knew the three were unarmed when captured and that Percival himself did the shooting . I will re write the account of their deaths … I will not say they were unarmed but neither will I say they were armed unless I get proof ... You see I DO KNOW that John (R.I.P.) was told to come unarmed and alone’. The Volunteers each had a revolver bullet in the forehead, and their bodies showed marks of severe ‘ill-treatment’. [30]
In response to the question as to whether or not Joe Galvin had participated in the Toureen ambush, Barry would make further enquiries he said as he ‘would hate to hurt a living relative of one who died for Ireland.’[31] Correspondence shows that Barry went to considerable trouble to establish the truth. (His treatment of this episode should be borne in mind when analysing the Kilmichael ambush. Correctness was important!)
The two pseudo-deserter spies had been held under guard in a few ‘British Loyalist homes’. Despite IRA vigilance, the men slipped a note for the Bandon Essex. Strickland noted afterwards that the ‘soldier who tried to pose as a local Irishman was found out immediately.’[32]Some time after the event the IRA executed the men. Then in April 1922 their Loyalist hosts met a similar fate when it was discovered that they had done a considerable amount of informing and had caused the arrests and deaths of IRA members.[33]
On the night of 11 December 1920 Volunteers from Cork No. 1 Brigade set up an ambush at Dillon’s Cross, Cork. One Auxiliary was killed and eleven wounded. ‘Soon after the ambush three civilians, Cornelius Delaney, Jeremiah Delaney and their uncle were taken out of their houses and shot on the roadside’. Afterwards Cork experienced ‘a weekend of terror,’ according to The Times, when the city was ‘set in flames’ by Auxiliaries and Black and Tans who went on a rampa
ge.[34] It was horrific. ‘The streets were crowded and the shops were full of people’. Innocent civilians were ‘flogged’, stones were thrown in windows and firemen were fired upon. Captain Myers, Superintendent of the Dublin Fire brigade found ‘that the destruction of Cork is much worse than that caused in Dublin in the Easter week rebellion … he considers high explosives were employed, for by no other means could such an amount of solid masonry be hurled across the thoroughfares.’[35]
An Auxiliary from K Company, Dunmanway, called Charlie, in a letter to his mother, wrote that ‘during the burning and looting of Cork’ he ‘took perforce a reluctant part’. With ‘murder, arson and looting, we did it all night never mind how much the well-intentioned Hammer [Hamar] Greenwood would excuse us … it baffles description.’[36] Another Auxiliary was ‘very actively employed to boot until the dawn on Sunday … we took sweet revenge’, because of the Dillon’s Cross ambush.[37]
Afterwards General Crozier criticised ‘the manner in which the government lied to cover up the guilt of their agents.’ Lloyd George promised to publish ‘the Strickland Report’ on the burnings, ‘but having seen it he broke his word. He did not dare to allow the public to read of the disgraceful doings of their “law” enforcing officers’, Crozier wrote.[38] The British government was embarrassed. There were only two copies of the report and Macready kept one in his safe. Greenwood said, ‘If we publish it now we shall only be giving ourselves away to our enemies. We must base ourselves on the ground that it is disclosing confidential communications.’ It was decided to keep the report’s outcome, on the burning of Cork, under wraps. Greenwood disclosed that the ‘company had been disbanded’ and all were ‘dispersed into other units … [we should] Say – “Acts of indiscipline”. They came from the slums to loot’.[39]
Tom Barry, slowly recovering in hospital, heard of burning of Cork from Sr Mary who feared that the hospital would be burned.
A few days later he was told of ‘the Dunmanway horror’. Seventy-three years old Canon Magner of Dunmanway never made any secret of his Sinn Féin sympathies. On 15 December, Mr Brady, a government magistrate had a problem with his motor car. The canon was out walking and he called 22 year old Tadgh Crowley to help push the motor-car to get it started. Two Crossley tenders of ‘K Company’ Auxiliaries passed by on their way to Cork. In one of the tenders Cadet Sergeant Hart asked the driver to stop. Cadet Hart went back and ‘spoke to the civilian’. The driver (witness in the ‘General Court-Martial Trial’) saw Hart ‘fire one revolver shot at the civilian, who dropped on the pavement. Immediately afterwards the accused [Hart] spoke to the priest, and a couple of minutes afterwards witness heard another shot and saw the priest fall to the ground.’[40] The captain of ‘K Company’ stood ‘one foot on the road, the other on the running-board of the tender, one hand in his pocket, the other leaning on the door frame as the shooting was done’. Mr Brady, reported it afterwards. Hart was summoned to a trial.[41]Initially, his plea of being ‘unfit’ for the trial troubled the British cabinet. They found it ‘peculiarly unfortunate in view of the fact that the murderer of Mr Sheehy-Skeffington has also been declared insane’.[42]An angry Lloyd George wanted Hart ‘tried and hanged’, but Macready insisted on an official trial. A furious Mark Sturgis wrote that ‘those who let him loose on the world in charge of a party armed to the teeth should take his place in the dock.’[43]
The government magistrate, who later resigned, insisted on a trial.[44] Then the British cabinet ordered a further medical examination to ‘put the matter beyond doubt’ and so opened the way for a trial to proceed.[45] The ‘Trial Report’ states that Hart was angry, as his comrade had died from wounds received in an ambush on 11 December. The Auxiliary witness reported that Hart said, ‘I should like to see Ireland swept with fire, and I should like to lead the boys’.[46]
James Reader, BL, defending Cadet Hart responded to a question from the bench that ‘in his opinion the accused was at the present moment capable of following the evidence and fit to understand the details …’ When the trial concluded, the court found ‘that the accused was guilty of the offences with which he had been charged, but was insane at the time of their commission. The finding has been confirmed and promulgated.’ The newspaper account states, ‘It is believed that Cadet Hart will be confined in a Criminal Lunatic Asylum during the pleasure of the Lord Lieutenant’.[47]
In the British parliament Major Archer-Shee, a government backbencher asked if ‘this cadet was made insane by a massacre [Dillon’s Cross] which had taken place a few days before?’
Sir Hamar Greenwood, secretary of state replied that Cadet Hart’s ‘chum’ was ‘massacred’ in the Dillon’s Cross ambush and ‘undoubtedly that had an effect on his mind.’ Greenwood then named the medical men who decided on his ‘insanity’. Whereupon Mr Lawson, Labour asked ‘whether it had yet been decided by the medical authorities how long this cadet was going to remain insane?’[48]
In the ‘captured letter’ an Auxiliary, from this K Company, wrote to his mother:
In all my life and in all the tales of fiction I have read I have never experienced such orgies of murder, arson and looting as I have witnessed during the past 16 days with the RIC Auxiliaries. It baffles description and we are supposed to be officers and gentlemen. There are quite a number of decent fellows – likewise a lot of ruffians … one of our heroes held up a car with a priest and a civilian in it and shot them both through the head without cause or provocation. We were very kindly received by the people, but the worst … of the cold-blooded murder is that no one will come within a mile of us now and all the shops are closed.
The brute who did it has been sodden with drink for some time and has been sent to … [difficult to decipher] under arrest for examination by reports in lunacy. If certified sane he will be court-martialled and shot. The poor old priest was 65 and everybody’s friend.[49]
F. P. Crozier, commander of the Auxiliaries in Ireland at the time, called it ‘the most cowardly and meanest crime’. The ‘police-murderer’ charged with ‘insanity’ was inexcusable as he ‘was sane enough to be fully armed on a public road but not sufficiently sober to be able to control himself’.[50]
Many of those in West Cork, who had up to now felt little sympathy for Barry and the IRA, supported them because of the callous murders and burnings being committed on behalf of the British crown.
On 18 December, Dr Daniel Coholan, Bishop of Cork, and a native of Kilmichael parish, in a pastoral letter stated that any Roman Catholic who took part in an ambush was a murderer and would be excommunicated.[51] When Barry, still lying in bed, heard this from Sr Mary, he was worried because the vast majority of his men were staunch Catholics, and he wondered whether this might have dealt a mortal blow to the flying column. His fears were lessened when Charlie Hurley came to visit that night. Charlie brought ammunition for his Colt automatic. Charlie did not want to worry him – ‘the men would continue to fight’, he said. He also told Tom about an ambush attack near Gaggin under his command on 8 December that had failed, resulting in the death of Michael McLean, one of the column. McLean in Volunteer uniform was ‘cut off from the column during the fight’, captured by Essex members and tortured to death. Sixteen-year-old Timothy Sullivan was also taken prisoner and witnessed Essex men twisting McLean’s arms ‘up behind his back, prodding him with bayonets and revolvers, at the same time shouting at him to tell the names of the men in the column’. They then ‘tied him to a lorry and dragged him into Bandon.’ (He was 18, ‘only son of a widowed mother’.)[52] Seán MacCárthaig remembers that night in hospital, Charlie ‘despondent’, wanted Barry to take over from him, as brigade OC. ‘Things seemed to be going against him. He would serve wherever you wanted him as a fighter,’ MacCárthaig reminded Tom.[53] The following Saturday night when Liam Deasy called to see Tom, he was happy to see him so improved and Liam agreed to stay the night with him. ‘But the reverend mother came in on us,’ said Liam, ‘and though Barry pleaded, she refused. We both had lots to dis
cuss.’[54]
In the serialisation of his book Barry decried the bishop and was taken to task by the Irish Press editor. But Barry responded that ‘it is a very mild exposition of a very serious act aimed to destroy the armed independence movement … it should have been dealt with in a stronger manner.’
Barry understood the difficulty of the Irish Press, but he told Liam MacGowan ‘not to touch it’. If it was necessary to do so then he wanted put ‘in italics in brackets some such sentence … that the author writes strongly of the Excommunication Order’. And he asked that the corrections and ‘deletions’ be sent on to him.[55]
Strickland, commander of the 6th Division, wrote in his diary, Sunday 12 December 1920: ‘Bishop came in afternoon to ask [if] I have question for some of his people’.[56] Barry, in his notes stated: ‘Everyone knew that if the IRA laid down their arms as requested by the bishop at least 200 members in Cork City and county would be killed off within a week by the British forces. Yet Dr Coholan did not even extract a promise from the British commanding officer that there would be no executions or murders if the fight for independence stopped.’[57]
Tom’s health was improving. He was allowed to take short walks around the room. Towards the end of the month his doctors told him that he would be discharged in a few days and would have to avoid exertion for some months, perhaps take a long sea trip. But Tom had other ideas. He grew impatient. On the night of 28 December he slipped out, headed towards brigade headquarters; once outside the city he took to the fields. Suddenly a thought struck him: if he dropped dead as the doctors’ said could happen, his body could remain in the field for months being eaten by rats. The vision of such a predicament horrified him, so he got out on the road. It was 2 a.m. when he reached O’Mahony’s at Belrose. He went in by the sitting-room window, which was always left unclasped.[58]