HOW I WAS CAPTURED.
I have no intention of giving here a story of the Civil War. I can only
say that I claim to have done my part to avoid it. But when I learned
to my amazement that the Free Staters had in the dead of night placed
British guns in position to shell the Republicans in the Four Courts I
felt there was only one course open to me—to throw in my lot with my old
comrades and carry on the fight for the Republic.
In the course of that fight I lost nearly all my old brothers-in-arms.
Even in the war against the Black and Tans Tipperary suffered less
heavily. Dinny Lacey gave his life for Ireland; so too did Jerry Kiely,
“Sparkie” Breen, Paddy Dalton, Paddy McDonough, Mick Sadlier, D. Ryan,
Liam Lynch, and several others with whom I had campaigned in the old
days. They were noble and courageous soldiers, true and unselfish
comrades. Ireland will miss such men as these. They might be with us
still if the agreement made in Limerick between Liam Lynch and Mick
Brennan had been kept by the Free Staters. That agreement might have
saved the soldiers of the south from turning their guns on one another.
No one can say that the Republicans have a particle of responsibility for
the breaking of the 1922 Treaty of Limerick.
I shall conclude my story with an account of the circumstances that led
to my capture.
When Liam Lynch was killed in County Waterford in the early spring of
1923, Austin Stack, Frank Barrett, David Kent, Sean Gaynor, Maurice
Walsh, George Power, and several others of us who were together in the
neighbourhood decided to make our way to the Nire Valley to attend
an important meeting that had been called to discuss certain peace
proposals. We reached Melleray at 1 o’clock next morning, and had a much
needed rest and some food. At 5 o’clock we resumed our journey towards
Cappoquin, and after an hour’s march we crossed the road, for we were
anxious to keep to the fields as much as possible. Just after we had
crossed the road, and were advancing up a hill heavy fire was opened on
us from three sides. We at once took cover, but as the firing became more
intense we decided to get away as best we could. In the confusion we
became scattered. I never met Austin Stack from that day until I met him
four months later in Mountjoy, where we were both prisoners.
I fell in with Maurice Walsh and Andy Kennedy, and we decided to face for
Newcastle, near Clonmel. When we arrived there we found to our amazement
that the place was held by a strong party of Free Staters.
We had to remain for two days on the hills, as the Free State troops had
brought up huge reinforcements to sweep the district. There was heavy
snow on the ground, but we could not venture into any place of shelter.
After two days we slipped through the lines, and I headed for my old
haunt, the Glen of Aherlow. I reached a dug-out on the Glen and almost
collapsed from exhaustion and hunger. I slept almost as soon as I lay
down.
From that sleep I was wakened by the heavy tramp of marching men above.
I jumped out and looked into the barrels of several Free State rifles. I
had no option but to surrender.
I am not a soft-hearted man. I have gone through too much to feel it an
easy job to weep; but my pride alone kept me from crying like a child
that day.
For five years I had defied England’s garrison in Ireland. Everything I
had suffered willingly for my country and my countrymen. And now in my
native county I was a prisoner in the hands of my own countrymen.
I was first taken to Galbally where I met my old friend of Knocklong,
Ned O’Brien, his brother John Joe, and James Scanlan. I think they felt
the situation as keenly as I did, but they tried to cheer me up.
From Galbally I was taken under escort to my native town, Tipperary,
where I was put through some form of trial. Next day I was taken from the
Free State Headquarters, the Abbey School, and marched to the railway
station. The humiliation and agony I endured during that short march I
shall never forget. May the reader never know what it is to be marched
a prisoner through his native town for doing what he believed to be his
duty and serving his country.
I was taken by rail to Limerick where I was detained for two months. I
have already related how I met, as one of the military officers in charge
of me, Lord French’s driver whom we had wounded at Ashtown.
From Limerick I was taken to Mountjoy, and because of my treatment there
I went on hunger-strike. After twelve days of hunger-strike and six of
thirst strike, I was released.
During my imprisonment the people of Tipperary had elected me as their
senior Republican Deputy.
Printed at
The Talbot Press
DUBLIN