Authors: Vincent McDonnell
The police, soldiers and G-men now became more active against the IRA and Sinn Féin. This worsened an already tense situation in the country. Collins had many narrow escapes from capture and realised that he would have to act against G-men and spies. With misgivings, he ordered the killing of a G-man known as ‘The Dog’ Smith. He was a brutal man, but was also fearless, and had refused to drop charges against an IRA man.
Members of the Squad waited for Smith as he made his way home one night. They opened fire with revolvers, hitting him a number of times. But he was a strong man, and he drew his own revolver and fired back at his attackers. Keeping them at bay, he managed to reach his own house and get inside. But he was badly injured and later died of his wounds.
This killing, the first by the Squad, alarmed the authorities, who retaliated with more arrests and greater brutality against the people. They also banned Sinn Féin and the Dáil, raided premises and seized documents. Collins now ordered the killing of a second G-man named Hoey. It was he who had picked out Seán MacDermott in Richmond Barracks after the 1916 Rising.
Hoey was shot dead outside Great Brunswick Police Station in broad daylight. This was intended as a very clear warning to the G-men, and many of them took heed of it. But Collins and his allies still lived with the fear of capture every minute of everyday. It meant that he hardly ever slept twice in the same bed, but had to move to a different safe house each day. He was always in danger of betrayal and whenever a spy was uncovered the Squad killed him. They also killed Lee-Wilson, the officer who had humiliated Thomas Clarke outside the Rotunda Hospital in 1916. Alan Bell, who was employed by the authorities to locate the money Collins was collecting as Minister of Finance, was also shot by the Squad.
The British reacted to the killings by setting up their own groups of killers, known as ‘murder gangs’. As equally ruthless as the Squad, they helped to heighten the tension and terror that was gripping, not only Dublin, but almost all of Ireland, where violence was becoming a part of life.
At Knocklong, County Limerick, a policeman was killed when Dan Breen and Seán Tracey rescued fellow IRA man Seán Hogan from a police escort. On New Year’s Day 1920, the Cork IRA, led by Tomás MacCurtain and Terence MacSwiney, attacked police barracks. Other IRA groups elsewhere followed suit. The British reacted by imposing martial law.
In an election in January 1920, Sinn Féin won more seats, proving that the people, though suffering greatly from the IRA campaign, supported their actions. In Cork, Tomás MacCurtain was elected Lord Mayor with Terence MacSwiney as his deputy. When a policeman was shot in Cork, masked policemen called at the home of MacCurtain and shot him dead in front of his wife. Inspector Swanzy, the man who shot MacCurtain, was himself later shot by members of the Squad.
The British authorities were becoming more and more alarmed. The army and the police were losing control in Ireland. Something needed to be done to restore law and order in the country and a decision was made in January 1920 to recruit two new forces to be sent to Ireland. These were the Black and Tans, or the Tans, and the Auxiliary Cadets, or the Auxies. Their names became a byword for brutality and murder, and they became two of the most feared and notorious groups ever to set foot on Irish soil. With the IRA and the Squad in opposition to them, Ireland was once again plunged into a period of bloody violence against British oppression.
T
he Black and Tans were recruited from among men who had fought in the First World War. When the war ended, they were no longer required as soldiers and found themselves unemployed. With no work available, they signed up to go to Ireland and fight the IRA. Their uniforms were a mixture of army khaki and police black. As a result, they got the nickname Black and Tans, because the colours were similar to those of a pack of hounds of that name. The Tans, as they became known, were sent to fight terror with terror and could use any means they wished to do so.
Immediately, they began to terrorise the population. They would enter a town or village and open fire on houses and people. They burned homes, shops, public houses, hotels, creameries and workplaces, and even shot farm animals. Soon, they became both feared and hated throughout the country. Despite suffering at the hands of the Tans, the local people still supported the IRA. They gave the men in the flying columns food and shelter and hid them, and supplied them with vital information about military movements. Without this support, the guerrilla war could not have been waged.
If the Tans were brutal and violent, the Auxies were worse. They were mostly ex-army officers who had fought in the First World War. They were hardened by their experiences in the trenches, were not afraid of fighting, and were utterly ruthless. They became even more hated and feared than the Tans, though the IRA men did admire their bravery, seeing in these men a reflection of their own courage.
The Auxies wore a blue uniform with a Glengarry cap, a kind of beret with a distinctive cap badge. Like the Tans, they too were a law onto themselves. They sought revenge for any act of violence committed by the IRA, and their vengeance was merciless. Along with the Tans, they were the visible evidence of British policy in Ireland, which was to use terror and violence to defeat the IRA.
A reign of terror now began. When the IRA killed a Tan or Auxie, revenge was swift. Any captured IRA man was tortured and murdered, a fate which befell Tom Hales and Pat Harte in Cork. In Dublin, Seán Tracey was shot dead in a gun battle. Kevin Barry, an eighteen-year-old medical student was arrested for his part in an ambush in which three British soldiers were killed. He was tortured in Mountjoy Prison and then hanged. Despite this reign of terror, when Terence MacSwiney died on hunger strike in Brixton Prison in London, people came out in their thousands to show their respect, and his funeral brought Ireland to a standstill.
The British reaction to all this was to send more spies to Ireland. These men were known as the ‘Cairo Gang’ because they had previously been spies in Egypt. Michael Collins, aware of the threat they posed, decided to kill them. The date set for the killings was Sunday, 21 November 1920, a very dark day in Irish history.
Known as ‘Bloody Sunday’, Collins chose this day to take action against the spies because a football match was being played in Croke Park between Dublin and Tipperary. There would be a large crowd in the city for the game. The Squad would be able to blend into the crowd while they went about their murderous task.
Early that Sunday morning the Squad, in small groups of men, entered the houses where the spies lived. Many were still in bed at this early hour. They were shot, sometimes in front of wives who pleaded for mercy. But no mercy was shown and each man was gunned down in cold blood.
The killings drove the Tans and Auxies berserk. They surrounded Croke Park that afternoon and entered the ground in armoured vehicles. Once inside, they opened fire with machine guns and rifles. Fourteen people were killed and many injured. One of those shot dead was Tipperary player Michael Hogan. To honour his memory, the main stand in Croke Park is called the Hogan Stand today.
Afterwards, the British authorities claimed that the Tans and Auxies had opened fire only after the IRA had fired on them. But as no Tan or Auxie was even wounded, it was obvious that the soldiers were not fired on. They had opened fire in revenge for the earlier killings of the Cairo Gang.
That same Sunday, the Tans and Auxies tortured and murdered two IRA men, Dick McKee and Peadar Clancy. A third man, who had no involvement with the IRA, was also tortured and murdered. The British, as usual, claimed that the men were shot trying to escape. The events of ‘Bloody Sunday’ created an atmosphere of terror in Dublin. Many IRA men went into hiding, while others refused to co-operate any more.
But in Cork and elsewhere, the IRA remained active. A flying column, under the command of Tom Barry, ambushed a convoy of Auxies and Tans at Kilmichael, a lonely, barren spot on the road from Macroom to Dunmanway. On 28 November 1920, just one week after ‘Bloody Sunday’, the flying column lay in wait for the convoy all day. When it reached the spot around 4 p.m., Tom Barry stood in the middle of the road and stopped the first lorry. He threw a grenade into it and then his men, concealed in the heather along the roadside, opened fire. A second lorry arrived and a fierce gun battle ensued. At one point, the Auxies and Tans indicated that they would surrender. But when an IRA man stood up to accept the surrender, the Auxies and Tans opened fire again, killing him. The gun battle continued and seventeen Auxies and Tans were killed, along with three IRA men.
This ambush, coming so soon after ‘Bloody Sunday’, alarmed the British authorities. Lloyd George, the Prime Minister, had recently stated that he had ‘murder by the throat’ in Ireland. It was now obvious that the British, with 30,000 men, had lost control in Ireland. Their attempt to defeat the IRA, kill the members of Collins’ Squad and his spies, and demoralise the ordinary people with a campaign of terror, had utterly failed.
There were more IRA ambushes and IRA men were murdered in revenge by the Auxies and the Tans. In December, following another ambush in Cork, the Tans and Auxies began a spree of looting and burning in Cork city. Patrick Street and City Hall were burned. Elsewhere in the country, burning, looting and killing continued.
On 20 February 1921 one of the most brutal acts of revenge carried out by British forces occurred when a group of IRA men were surrounded in a cottage at Clonmult, County Cork. When the IRA men surrendered, seven were murdered in cold blood, and two were later hanged in Cork. Believing that they had been betrayed, the IRA killed six alleged informers in the following weeks.
In March, Tom Barry and 100 IRA men ambushed a convoy of Tans and Auxies at Crossbarry, County Cork. As the Tans and Auxies fled, a large contingent of British soldiers arrived on the scene. In the biggest engagement of the war, Barry and his men were successful and were able to withdraw with just a few casualties. It was another significant victory for the IRA, but still there seemed to be no end to the bloody war in sight.
Éamon de Valera had by now returned from America and was dissatisfied with the tactics employed by Collins. De Valera disliked secret societies like the IRB, and was also opposed to guerrilla warfare. In May, he ordered the IRA in Dublin to openly attack the Custom House. During the offensive, the building was destroyed by fire and valuable documents were lost. It was a blow to the British administration, but won at great cost, because many IRA men were captured in the attack.
Collins was slowly coming to believe that the IRA would not be able to win this war. Many IRA men had been killed or wounded, or were in prison. They were also short of arms and ammunition. The superior forces of the British Empire might yet win out as they had done so often before in the seven and a half centuries that had passed since Strongbow arrived in Ireland in 1170.
Collins decided on one final assault on the Tans, Auxies and spies in Dublin. He was aware that it might be the final action of the war. But before he could order the assault, de Valera received a message from Lloyd George. The British wanted to meet to discuss peace.
Michael Collins could hardly believe it. He and his small band of guerrillas had forced the mighty British Empire to yield. They had effectively won the war. Now only one question still remained. When they came to talk to the British, could they win what so many had fought for, and given their lives for down through the long centuries? Could they, at last, win freedom for Ireland?
T
he British and the Irish agreed a truce which came into force on 11 July 1921. British forces withdrew to their barracks, and the country returned to something like normal. The people celebrated, relieved to have peace after years of violence.
At the end of July, de Valera travelled to London to meet Lloyd George, but did not take Michael Collins with him. This rejection hurt Collins. He had risked his life for three years, while for part of this time de Valera had been safe in America. Collins felt that he had won the war and was being left out of the peace negotiations.
At the meeting with de Valera, Lloyd George stated that Ireland could not become a 32-county Republic. Instead, what could be granted was Dominion status, similar to that enjoyed by Canada. Ireland would remain within the British Empire, and elected TDs would swear an oath of allegiance to the king. The Unionists in Ulster would have their own state.
De Valera returned to Dublin where the Dáil rejected the offer. However, Lloyd George invited an Irish delegation to talks in London. De Valera now insisted that Michael Collins should go while he remained at home. This was an extraordinary decision. De Valera, as President of the Dáil, was the leader of the country. As such, he should have led the Irish delegation. That he didn’t do so left him free to later oppose the Treaty that was agreed, which plunged the country into civil war.
Why de Valera did not go is a question that has never been answered. Did he not go because he knew that the British would never agree to what the Irish sought? Did he send Collins so that he could be blamed if talks failed, or if he didn’t obtain an Irish Republic? Collins was extremely popular in Ireland so was de Valera jealous of him? Did he believe that if the talks failed, Collins would lose his popular appeal? We shall never know for certain.
Collins refused to go, believing that he would be of more benefit in Ireland. He claimed that he could be used as a threat against the British if the talks looked likely to fail. If that happened, it would mean the IRA returning to war. If Collins went to London, the British would get to know him and obtain photographs of him. If the war restarted, they would quickly capture him.
De Valera was insistent and, reluctantly, Collins agreed to go. Arthur Griffith led the Irish delegation, which included Robert Barton, Éamonn Duggan and George Gavan Duffy. They were given complete freedom to negotiate, with Collins reporting back regularly to the Dáil. Fearing for his safety, Collins brought members of the Squad with him. During the weeks of discussion, the Squad and British spies played a game of cat and mouse on the London streets. There was an atmosphere of fear and tension, and a sense that anything could happen.