PREPARING FOR THE FRAY.
The local police duly informed their headquarters of this open defiance
of British law in Tipperary. They were ordered to arrest the culprits.
But, as we had no desire to enjoy the hospitality of His Britannic
Majesty’s jails, Sean Treacy and I went “on the run,” that is to say,
in order to evade our pursuers we had to leave our homes, and keep
moving from the house of one trusty friend to another. But on the Friday
following our public parade, Sean was arrested by the “Peelers.” Members
of the R.I.C. were better known in Ireland for generations as “Peelers,”
a term of contempt coined from the name of Sir Robert Peel, who, in the
early part of the nineteenth century first organised the force.
Sean was taken to Cork Jail where he first met the brothers Brennan, of
Meelick, County Clare, who were also unwilling guests of the British
jailers. The three brothers Brennan—Austin, Paddy and Michael—afterwards
became famous officers in the Southern Command of the Irish Republican
Army, and at present hold high ranks in the Free State Army. In passing
I should say that in throwing men into prison at that time England
was really giving them an excellent opportunity of exchanging views,
discussing plans for the future and generally turning the prison into a
“University for Rebels.” Many indeed learned more about drill, and the
methods of making explosives, while they were in prison than they had
ever before known.
Sean was eventually tried by court-martial, and sentenced to two years
imprisonment, but sixteen months of the term were remitted. These trials
were, of course, a mere formality, for our men never put up any legal
defence, but declined to recognise the right of any British tribunal to
try them. Very often in the early stages our men turned the proceedings
into a farce by reading a newspaper or singing while the evidence was
being taken.
With a number of his comrades Sean went on hunger-strike as a protest
against their treatment. It was the first time that Irish political
prisoners used this weapon, which later became so common. They were
removed to Mountjoy Prison, Dublin, where they continued their
hunger-strike until one of their number, Commandant Tom Ashe, who had
taken a leading part in one of the most successful exploits in the 1916
Insurrection—died as a result of the attempts made by the prison doctor
and officials to feed him forcibly. The tragedy raised the whole Irish
nation to fury, and the British Government realised for the first time
that our men were in earnest, and ready to die for their principles. An
agreement was entered into whereby they were to be treated as prisoners
of war, or as political prisoners, and forcible feeding was never again
tried.
Meantime I had been busy during my comrade’s imprisonment. I organised
sections of Volunteers in all the surrounding parishes, and as similar
efforts were being made all over the country our military organisation
soon became even more perfect than it had been in 1916. The British
Government, true to its traditions, broke the agreement made with the
prisoners, and Sean and his fellow Volunteers, who had now been removed
to Dundalk Jail, went on hunger-strike again, and secured their release.
All this time the organisation and drilling of the Volunteers had been
done secretly. Now and again the British surprised bodies of men here and
there, and captured them. But when Sean came home he brought back the
word that we were to come out in the open to drill, even if the British
Government attempted to arrest every man of us. It was felt that if
England carried out the policy of wholesale arrests she would soon have
tens of thousands of Irishmen in jail, and would again make herself a
laughing-stock to the nations.
This was in the early part of 1918. By this time we had been getting
a fair supply of arms and ammunition by channels which may not yet be
disclosed. It must be remembered that for several years before this no
firearms were allowed into the country, no shops could sell any they had
on hands, and even sporting cartridges could only be bought by special
permission of the British military authorities. The enemy scented another
Insurrection.
They became more alert, and once more Sean Treacy was arrested. From the
moment of his capture he again went on hunger-strike, and was joined by
Michael Brennan, of Meelick, and by Seumas O’Neill, a teacher in Rockwell
College, both of whom had been arrested three days after Sean.
During Sean’s first term of imprisonment I had been elected company
captain; and now during his second term I was further promoted to be
Commandant of the Battalion, and later still I became Brigade Commandant.
At that period each company elected its own captain, each man having a
vote, and each man being eligible. The various company officers in a
battalion area then met, and in their turn elected the officers for the
battalion, and so with the brigade. Truly, it was a democratic army.
This was the time when things were going badly with England in the war.
In March, 1918, began the great German offensive, when the British lines
were broken through. In their despair the English cried, “Conscript
the Irish.” Within a few weeks the necessary Act was passed in the
British Parliament, and all preparations made to force Irishmen to fight
England’s battle. Sir John French, later Lord French, himself an Irishman
by birth, was British Viceroy in Dublin.
The Irish people were roused to action. Never before was there such a
fierce determination to resist the British plans. Bishops, priests and
political leaders of all shades of opinion met together to face the
threat. In the moment of common danger all turned instinctively to the
Irish Volunteers. If resistance was to come it would only come from their
ranks; for England and Ireland well knew that the Irish Volunteers would
be wiped out to the last man before they would allow a single Irishman to
be forced into the British Army.
Our trouble was the shortage of arms; of men we now had too many. At that
time I was Brigade Commandant, and we decided to make raids for arms. We
knew there were plenty of shot-guns, revolvers, bayonets, swords, and
an occasional rifle here and there in private houses, especially in the
houses of the element loyal to England.
We had very little trouble in collecting the arms. Our men in every
district had compiled exact information regarding every house in which
there was a weapon. We generally went at night and asked for the arms.
Those who would have liked to refuse knew they dare not. Many others gave
them willingly, and some even sent us word to call for them. In no case
had we to fire a shot during the few weeks we were on this job. We had to
do the thing as quickly as possible, for as soon as the British got wind
of it they immediately issued an order that all arms should be handed to
them for safe keeping. We generally got there first, and more than once
our visit to a house was only a few minutes before that of the peelers.
[Illustration: SEAN TREACY.]