be like if in the middle of the night he was pulled out of his bed by
these same ruffians, and given his choice between joining Trotsky’s Own
Light Infantry, or whatever the local Red force may call itself, or
being shot out of face. Being true to his country, he refuses to have
anything to do with Bolshevism, and is shot before the eyes of his
agonised wife.
Remember that the loyal country gentlemen and ex-soldiers of Ireland
have sacrificed their blood and treasure on the altar of Empire as well
as their English cousins, and hence are entitled to as much protection.
But no, when it comes to a matter of politics and votes they are thrown
to the wolves, to the eternal shame of England. The sacrifice of the
southern Loyalists will form one of the most disgraceful chapters in the
history of England.
Robberies on a more extensive scale followed: bank managers taking large
sums of money to out-of-the-way villages on the occasion of a fair, in
order to facilitate payments by buyers to farmers, were held up and
robbed. Mail-cars carrying pension money for the old and poor were held
up and robbed; likewise post offices, banks, railway stations, and large
shops—and most of this money used to forward the cause of armed
rebellion. In fact, the Government were largely being fought with their
own money, or, rather, that of the helpless British taxpayer.
But this form of warfare, though most unpleasant for the unfortunate
Irish Loyalist, and probably disturbing to the few people in England who
knew anything about what was happening in Ireland, would never have led
to anything provided the British Government had taken the necessary
steps quickly to preserve law and order and punish evil-doers. But no,
as ever in Ireland, they would do nothing, except procrastinate, until
it was too late.
Instead of strengthening the R.I.C. and sending more troops into the
country, they merely evacuated outlying police barracks, which were
promptly burnt amidst scenes of triumph by the local Volunteers, and
hailed by all rebels as the first outward sign of the retreat of the
English from Ireland.
If the police released by the evacuation of these barracks had been used
to form flying columns to quiet the worst districts, there might have
been some sense in this manœuvre; unfortunately, the men were all wanted
to make up the wastage in the occupied barracks caused by the large
number of resignations of young constables in the R.I.C. at this time.
Looking back, these constables who resigned appear to have been mean
deserters of their comrades, but after-events have to a certain degree
justified their action. They were certain that, no matter how often the
British Government swore to see its loyal servants through, in the end
it would let them down, and the pity is that they were right. True,
there was a day when an Englishman’s word was as good as his bond, but
that day appears to be quite out of date. Or perhaps it does not apply
to politicians!
Doubtless greatly surprised at their initial success, the chiefs of the
I.R.A. now determined on a much more ambitious form of warfare—namely,
the formation of flying columns to harry and murder the Crown forces
throughout Ireland, not excepting Ulster; at the same time they started
a tremendous campaign of propaganda in England and the States.
The idea of breaking up the British Empire by means of a number of small
flying columns of corner-boys in Ireland, and green pamphlets at John
Bull’s breakfast-table, appears laughable; but Sinn Fein has shown
itself a wonderfully astute judge of the mentality of the present-day
politician in England.
The summer of 1920 saw the greater part of the south and west in the
hands of the Republic, who not only boasted an army in the field, but
ran their own police, law-courts, and Local Government Board. It was not
an uncommon occurrence for a man to be first arrested by the R.I.C. for
some offence, and then by the I.R.A.; sometimes there used to be quite
an exciting race between these two forces to see who could catch the
culprit first.
The first flying columns were made up of determined and hard-up
corner-boys collected from every district in the south and west, and
were sent out under specially qualified leaders to murder as many police
and soldiers as they could, no matter whether they were armed or
unarmed, asleep or awake. The price for the murder of a policeman rose
gradually to £60, and eventually to £100.
With a terrorised population and a Government which refused to function,
these columns had everything in their favour, and carried on their
campaign of murder and assassination practically unhindered at first.
Their chief channels of information were the post-office and young
girls. The larger proportion of post-office officials were openly
disloyal, postmasters even being caught red-handed decoding important
police and military wires for the information of the I.R.A. And young
girls not only obtained information by walking out with policemen and
soldiers, but also carried the gunmen’s arms to and from a murder or
ambush.
It used to be no uncommon sight in Dublin to see a tram-car held up by
Auxiliaries and searched with no result. Before the Auxiliaries had
boarded the tram, the gunmen would openly pass their pistols to girls
sitting beside them. Any one giving information would never have left
that tram alive, nor would it have done any good, as the Auxiliaries
were powerless (until near the end of the war) to search women.
As regards transport, they had only to take it where, when, and how they
liked—motors, motor bicycles, lorries, and push-bicycles by the thousand
in every part of the country. Think how different the result might have
been if the Government had taken up all this transport and reduced the
I.R.A. to their flat feet. And, of course, they used the trains freely,
and without payment, both to carry arms and men.
Young girls, especially if pretty, make far the most dangerous spies in
the world; and though they have always been used during a war on a small
scale by every country, yet this is probably the first occasion on which
a nation has conscripted girls of from twelve to twenty-five years
wholesale for this vicious and contaminating work.
Even little children were taught the art of eavesdropping, and, of
course, if they did not hear every word, readily filled in the blanks
from their imagination. Many a man in Ireland during the last two years
has lost his life through the medium of a little child. The Markievicz
woman ought to appear on the Day of Judgment with the record millstone
round her neck.
Despatches were carried in dozens of ways—boys on bicycles, men on motor
bicycles, who also acted as scouts for ambushes, in the sample cases of
bagmen (a common method also at one time of sending arms and ammunition
about the country), by the post, and by railway guards—in fact, by every
method which came to hand.
The I.R.A. obtained much valuable information through opening letters in
the post, but their really important and often vital information came to
them through a bad leakage in the Castle.
Any shortage of recruits was quickly made good by a drastic form of the
old pressgang. An unwilling recruit would be dragged out of bed in the
middle of the night, placed against a wall, and given a minute to decide
for King George or the Irish Republic. King George meant a bullet in the
brain, probably a dum-dum of the worst description; the Irish Republic
meant active service with a flying column at some near future date.
Money was obtained in just as simple a way. A levy of, say, a pound a
cow or a pound a beast would be laid on a district. A farmer had six
cows or one horse, two asses, and three head of cattle. In either case
he would pay £6 to the funds of the I.R.A. Any arguing there was would
be solely on the side of the collector, who would have the butt-end of a
large pistol protruding from his pocket. Such a simple and effective
method of collecting a tax! No troublesome forms of beastly red tape,
and no large staff of fat and lazy clerks to pay! Just a
truculent-looking blackguard with a very large pistol, not necessarily
loaded, and the money pours in. Cases of non-payment of this form of
taxation have never been heard of, nor is there any means of dodging it.
Cattle are not easy to hide.
Rations were obtained by the simple process of requisition. In some
cases they used to go through the farce of giving a receipt for the
stolen goods in the name of the I.R.A.!
With the police unable to function, banks and post-offices offered an
easy prey to these ruffians. The meanest form of robbery was the taking
of money to pay old-age pensions from mail-cars on their way to outlying
districts.
A special murder gang was formed, which went about the country to murder
any man—policeman, R.M., or civilian—who was particularly active in
trying or helping to restore law and order in the country—that is, any
man who was too tough a nut for the locals to crack. And, of course, in
many cases private feuds and spites came under this heading. As has been
mentioned, the price for a policeman was £100. People would be heard
discussing this openly, and wondering if the price would go up or down,
in the same way as they might discuss Dunlop’s or Guinness’s shares.
But the most effective weapon of Sinn Fein has been their propaganda
campaign in America and England, coupled with the treasonable and
treacherous aid from certain politicians and the effective silence of
the daily press, with one great and notable exception.
The following letter, which fell into the hands of the Crown forces in
Ireland, speaks for itself:—
Dail Eireann (Department of Finance),
Mansion House, Dublin, 21st March 1921.
_To Director of Propaganda._
A CHARA,—The enclosed copy of notes from Ireland will probably be
of some interest to you. I have previously sent some copies of
these and other things from the Unionist Alliance people.
Many figures have been given in the papers recently with regard to
R.I.C. resignations, dismissals, recruitment. All these
_questions_ have been asked on instructions from me, and I think
you might be able to make very good use of some of them. For
instance, in the 10th March ‘Hansard’ (pages 688 and 689) are
given the figures which appeared in the ‘Independent’ some days
ago. In a few days’ time we shall get total strength and total
numbers recruited over certain periods.
I have got an arrangement made in London whereby the ‘Independent’
correspondents will always quote the figures pretty fully for our
benefit.
Do Chara,
MICHAEL COLLINS.
Sinn Fein first learnt the art of propaganda from those pastmasters the
Boches; but if ever the latter think of trying their luck with another
“Der Tag,” they will find that Sinn Fein can teach them now more than
ever they taught Sinn Fein. The Celtic mind seems to be peculiarly
adapted and susceptible to propaganda consisting largely of half and
three-quarter lies.
But nothing surprised and dismayed Irish Loyalists more than the
suppression of reports of murders and outrages in Ireland in the great
majority of English papers, though later on these same papers filled
columns with any murder or atrocity alleged to have been committed by
police or Auxiliaries. Moreover, from their tone, it soon became obvious
that some papers were strongly pro-Sinn Fein.
To an Irishman the English Radical has always been one of the greatest
wonders and mysteries of this world; and often he cannot help asking why
God has sent him into this world. Of course, there is no doubt that all
are here for some purpose, good or bad, but of what use is the Radical
to England?
Is he the wee drop of poison in the whole which is to bring about the
downfall of the Empire as a punishment for the sins of its leaders? At
any rate, he has always been a puzzle and enigma to Irish and French
alike, and they have no use for a man whose chief idea of patriotism
appears to be to take any and every side against his own country.
There is no possible doubt that the Government were forced or
frightened, by the howls of the Radicals, incited by Sinn Fein
propaganda, to order that reprisals by the Crown forces in Ireland
should cease, whereby the Crown forces’ most effective weapon was taken
from them, though it was still left in the hands of the murder gang.
Fierce were the denouncements by the Radicals in the House of the
unfortunate Irish police; but one waited in vain for a like denouncement
of the murder gang (men who have committed as bad atrocities as the
world has seen) by these same unctuous gentlemen. Ye hypocrites!
Much has been said and written (chiefly propaganda) about the wickedness
of reprisals, but it is better first to examine the situation before
condemning them.
It must be clearly understood that the whole power of the murder gang
lay in reprisals: they took reprisals against every one who was against
them by murder, arson, and intimidation. The Crown forces had only the
law, which was paralysed. No one dared give evidence; it was death to do
so.
Under these circumstances the Crown forces, principally the R.I.C., took
counter-reprisals; this was the only possible method by which they could
save their own lives and the lives and property of the Loyalists, who
looked to them for protection.
For many weary months unhappy Ireland was rent and torn by this form of
warfare, and it became obvious to most that if one side did not win
pretty soon the country would be ruined. Twice the Crown forces wriggled
their hands free, and on both occasions had the I.R.A. on the verge of
collapse: one stout blow would have finished the show. And each time the
I.R.A. were saved by the screams of their English allies. Each time the
Government quickly took fright, quickly tied the Crown forces’ right
hands, and even threatened to tie up their legs if they set the English
Radicals on the howl again. And once more the I.R.A. plucked up courage,
and the old weary game of ambush and murder started afresh.
At long last the Government took a sudden notion to make a desperate
effort to finish off the gunmen before the gunmen finished them.
After the failure to round up the big force of gunmen in the Maryburgh
Peninsula, Blake returned at once to Ballybor with all his men, arriving
to find a cipher wire from the County Inspector to tell him that the
gunmen had turned up in the Ballyrick Mountains, and that as soon as the
Crown forces could be regrouped another effort would be made to come to
grips with these slippery customers.
No sooner had Blake started to deal with a fearful accumulation of
official correspondence than the head constable told him that Constable
John M’Hugh, who came from the east centre of Ireland and had not been
long in the force, wished to see him—adding that M’Hugh’s father had
been murdered, and that the constable was most anxious to go home, but
that the police at his home had wired that it was not safe for the man
to go.
Blake saw M’Hugh at once, and found him in a pitiable state of grief,
the first great sorrow of his young life—but had to refuse his request,
though the boy pleaded hard, with the tears running down his cheeks.
M’Hugh’s case is a good example of the murder gang’s reprisals on those
who will not fall in with their views.
Old M’Hugh was a widower living with his two sons near a large town on
the east coast. Unfortunately John was an unwilling witness of the first
murders of British officers in Ireland during the present rebellion, and
in order to save the lives of his sons old M’Hugh got them into the
R.I.C. as soon as he could.
On several occasions old M’Hugh was threatened by the I.R.A. that if he
did not make his sons resign they would do for him: every time he
refused, and told his sons nothing about being threatened. Finally, the
usual pack of masked fiends went to the old man’s cottage in the dead of
night, and murdered him by the refined process of dragging him out of
bed and kicking him on the head until they smashed his skull in—a deed
hard to beat for pure brutal savagery.
The following day Blake received a long visit from the County Inspector,
who gave him the outline of the new plan of campaign, and instructions
for the part Blake and his men were to take.
The country of the Ballyrick Mountains is a square-shaped peninsula of,
roughly, fourteen hundred square miles, consisting of vast flats of bogs
on the north, west, and east, intercepted by hills, while the south part
consists of nothing but mountains. One main road runs through the
centre, east and west, and another skirts the coast for three-quarters
of the north coast, then turns inland, crosses the other road at about
the centre of the peninsula at the village of Ballyscadden, then
continues due south until it reaches the coast. In the whole peninsula
there are only half a dozen small villages, all not less than sixteen
miles apart.
To drive this huge country would require at least twenty times as many
troops as were available, and A.S.C. train to keep them supplied with
rations; there remained the possibility of starving the gunmen into
surrender.
All the villages were to be occupied by military, and every road
picketed and blocked with barbed wire; at the same time the military
were to endeavour to form a cordon across the neck of the peninsula, a
distance of thirty-five miles.
The police, who were to do the actual hunting, were divided into flying
columns, with all available transport. The Navy was to be responsible
for the numerous islands on the west and south coasts, and were to open
fire on any parties of gunmen who came within the range of their vision
and guns.
Aeroplanes were to work continuously over the country during daylight,
and on locating the enemy, were to drop their messages at the police
headquarters at Ballyscadden.
It was expected that at the first sign of danger the gunmen would make
for the mountains in the south, when the area of operations would be
greatly restricted.
When all preparations were completed a start was to be made as soon as
there seemed a reasonable prospect of fine weather. Finally, at Blake’s
suggestion, they tried to collect every flock of mountain sheep and
confine them to the flat country to the north, but after the first day
many of the sheep returned to their own mountains in spite of the
efforts of the shepherds.
Blake’s part was to keep all his available men at headquarters, ready to
dash off at a moment’s notice on receipt of information of the location
of any party of gunmen.
Owing to a bad westerly storm operations had to be postponed for a few
days, during which time the gunmen were left undisturbed.
As had been expected, they drew a blank in the flat country, though it
was reported by the first ‘plane up that a large party of cyclists had
been spotted making their way south from Ballyscadden some time before
the police occupied that village.
The weather then turned very fine, and as there was a full moon, it was
decided to sit tight for a few days in order to see whether starvation
would force the gunmen to attempt a break through.
For two days the aeroplanes had nothing to report except the movements
of small parties of not more than six men, and always in the mountains
to the south. On the third a ‘plane dropped the exciting news that a big
column, estimated at several hundred men, was marching south-west with
an advance of scouts to a depth of two miles.
Blake at once turned out his men, and made off south at full speed. At
the same time a column left Castleport to make its way up the coast road
and intercept the gunmen before they could debouch from the
mountains—their orders being to advance up a valley from the coast to a
shooting-lodge, which was situated at the junction of three valleys, two
of which lead north-east and south-west round the foot of Falcon
Mountain. Here they were to wait while Blake endeavoured to drive the
gunmen down the north-east valley towards them.
For twenty-four hours Blake kept up a running fight with the gunmen in
the mountains, always trying to head them towards the valley which leads
to the foot of Falcon Mountain, and at last, when his men could hardly
move, had the satisfaction of seeing the gunmen making for the valley.
The police followed slowly and painfully, to find not a sign of a human
being at the shooting-lodge. The men flung themselves down in the
heather, beat to the world, and some of them even burst into tears of
rage.
The explanation came afterwards. The Castleport party received orders to
proceed up the valley from the sea, and intercept the gunmen at a
shooting-lodge. Unfortunately there were two lodges—one on the shore of
a lake about half-way up the valley from the sea, and the second and
right one at the junction of the three valleys. Naturally the Castleport
party, none of whom had been in these mountains before, stopped at the
first lodge they came to on the shore of the lake.
A thick mist came up off the sea that night, and the gunmen, who had
taken refuge on the upper rocky slopes of Falcon Mountain, slipped
through the cordon in the mist in twos and threes, commandeered
bicycles, and so made good their escape.
Some time afterwards, being again very hard pressed, large parties of
gunmen took up their quarters in the Ballyrick Mountains, and lay low.
Gradually their numbers increased, until it was reported that the
mountains carried as many gunmen as sheep.
At this time the Government appeared to have at last realised that the
only way to restore order in Ireland was to oppose force by superior
force. Many people could have given them this information months
previously.
A report went through Ireland that the Government was massing artillery
at Holyhead to mow down the I.R.A. with their brutal high explosives and
shrapnel. In reality what happened was that all batteries in England
were turned into mounted infantry, only about twenty-five men being left
with a battery, and concentrated at Holyhead, preparatory to crossing to
Ireland.
To Blake’s joy, the Ballyrick country was chosen as the first scene of
what was fondly supposed would be the end of the rebellion.
Quickly 20,000 troops were massed across the neck of the Ballyrick
Peninsula with every available Auxiliary and a large force of R.I.C.,
while a naval force was standing by off the coast ready to land sailors
and marines. All that was wanted was a good weather forecast to start
in, and put an end to this great mob of gunmen—the curse of modern
Ireland.
The good weather forecast came along all right, and on the morrow they
were to get a move on and put an end to this miserable breed of cowardly
warfare.
But on the morrow, instead of the Advance, they heard the Stand Fast
sounded, and to their dismay learnt that a truce had been proclaimed—a
truce with murderers, forsooth!
XXI.
THE TRUCE.
Blake had been educated at a big English public school, where he had
learnt that the keynote to an Englishman’s life is straightness.
Further, in the British Army he had found that all good Britishers try
their level best to run straight.
Early in 1921 there had been a strong rumour in the R.I.C. that the
British Government had come to secret terms with Sinn Fein, and that
after a period of window-dressing a truce would be declared; then would
follow a lot of talk, and the terms of settlement would emerge. It was
even reported that a conference had been held in Norway of
representatives of the British Government and Sinn Fein, and also a
representative from each of the Dominions, and a settlement arrived at.
At the time the Prime Minister fired off one of his loudest and most
daring defiances at Sinn Fein: that he would never give in nor would he
ever treat with the murder gang in Ireland, that the Crown forces in
that country would be supported by all the resources of the Empire, and
so on _ad nauseam_. And this, as Blake heard a cynic remark, was a sign
that the sinister rumour was most likely true.
Blake had dismissed the idea with a laugh, but when the truce bomb burst
his mind at once flew back to the secret settlement rumour, now months
old, and he began to suspect with a horrible fear that they had been
sold, and badly sold.