Michael Collins and the Women Who Spied For Ireland

by Meda Ryan

  ‘There’s a traitor in the camp,’ he repeated. He told Batt O’Connor that he felt the game was up for him.9

  Mick moved office again, this time to St Andrew’s Street. The military were close on his heels. Less than a week later, in a letter to de Valera, he said that ‘the escape on Thursday was nothing to four or five escapes I have had since. They ran me very close for quite a good while on Sunday evening.’10

  Raids on houses which he frequented made him uneasy and he had a strong suspicion of betrayal by someone he knew. On 9 June, in a letter which was smuggled in to Moya Llewelyn Davies in jail, he wrote, ‘The chase I think has not been less hot. They have got several items of information. They got them by torture and extraction’.11Yet he was adamant that mentally he was not on the run, as he told Moya two weeks later:

  I have (or think I have) a fair knowledge of the mental attitude of the others, and he is on the run who feels he is on the run. I have avoided that feeling. Others have not – it is these who make themselves remarkable by their actions and movements.12

  It appears that shortly after this Collins found out who the informer was and had him shot.

  Throughout May the British cabinet had been discussing ways of getting the Irish leaders to talk peace but Mick’s priority was action. He was in regular correspondence with the commanding officer and intelligence officer of every working brigade. Despite IRA losses and difficulties, they continued countrywide operations throughout May and June. However, Collins and GHQ were unable to supply arms in response to the pleas of the three Cork brigades. Mick sent Madge Hales to her brother in Italy to try to speed up the shipment of arms that was expected.13

  Madge Hales arrived back from Italy in June and informed Mick that only half a boatload of armaments could be obtained; this, coupled with transport difficulties, meant that the anticipated shipment had been postponed once again.14The serious shortage of arms hampered the fight, ‘because men, no matter how determined they may be, or how courageous, cannot fight with their bare hands’.15Collins neglected to inform the Cork brigades of the failure of the Italian shipment because he had so much on his mind; this was held against him at a time of future division.

  Soon Lloyd George invited de Valera to come to London for discussions. De Valera took with him Erskine Childers and a delegation of four cabinet colleagues, including Austin Stack. Collins was anxious to go but Dev ‘flatly refused to have him, and there were some bitter words between them’.16Arising out of the negotiations it was obvious to de Valera that ultimately ‘some form of partition would be a part of any settlement.17These talks as well as other pressures on the British government led to the Truce.

  Monday, 11 July 1921 was a sunny day. Before noon armoured tanks, cars and patrols made a slow procession back to barracks. Then at noon church bells and clocks struck. Truce time. The public was happy that the guns were silent but for Collins and his comrades there was the danger that once they came out into the open, they would be easily ‘exterminated’ if the Truce should fail.

  In Harcourt Terrace, Mick Collins sat at his desk, retrieved slips of paper from his socks and began to write.

  1 Michael to Helena, 5/3/1921.

  2 Michael to Mary Collins-Powell, 24/3/1921.

  3 Collins to Art O’Brien, 21/3/1921 and 4/5/1921.

  4 Kathleen Napoli MacKenna, National Library of Ireland.

  5 Details of Brigid Lyons and Seán MacEoin from interview with Máire Comerford, 4/9/1979; see also Coogan, Michael Collins, pp. 180, 181. Collins to the Brigade Adjutant, Cork No. 3 Brigade, 7/4/1921, Meda Ryan, The Tom Barry Story, p. 73.

  6 Michael to Helena, 5/3/21.

  7 Michael O’Brien to author, 15/12/1973.

  8 Collins to Freeman’s Journal, 22/4/1921.

  9 Batt O’Connor, op. cit., p. 76.

  10 Collins to de Valera, 1/6/1921.

  11 Collins to Moya Llewelyn Davies, 9/6/1921.

  12 Ibid., 24/6/1921.

  13 Collins to Dónal Hales, 7/7/1921.

  14 Madge Hales to author, 20/6/1972.

  15 Thornton Memoir.

  16 T. Ryle Dwyer, De Valera, The Man and the Myth, p. 55.

  17 Ibid., p. 55, 60.

  Truce, Intrigue, Treaty Negotiations

  Two days after the Truce began Mick Collins was again at his desk in Harcourt Street. He had come to realise that there were many divisions within the ranks of the IRA and Sinn Féin, as well as jealousy and clashes of personality. It hurt him deeply that Cathal Brugha, Austin Stack and Liam Mellows often undermined his ideas and comments but he was more hurt that de Valera did not see things in the same light as he did.

  Although the Truce was in force, Mick decided that he should continue planning in case of the resumption of hostilities. He went to country brigades, spoke to commands, inspected training camps, set out to reorganise his intelligence system, and continued gun-running.

  In the early days of the truce, he wished to preserve his anonymity. He was one of the party in the Mansion House at which ‘celebrities’ were present. When de Valera left ‘he was cheered again & again’, Mick told his friend, Moya. He said he made a bet that he’d go out unrecognised.

  Out I goes and not a look or token of recognition. I was awfully pleased – just to know I was right & there were dozens there who knew me & would have gone mad over it but I was down the steps & through the crowd with Messenger Boy rapidity.1

  Soon his thoughts turned to home. He would visit Woodfield, meet the neighbours and if possible see his brother Johnny, still a prisoner on Spike Island. On a fine July day he took the train from Dublin to Clonakilty. He made no effort at disguise, and believed that not ‘a single one of their agents laid eyes knowingly’ on him. ‘That was my intention and I think I carried it out successfully,’ he wrote to Moya.

  Despite being unable to get a permit to see Johnny, he said he was very glad to have gone on the two-day trip to Cork.2He told de Valera: ‘the spirit animating the enemy in Cork city and in the parts of the county I visited is arrogant and provocative. They are trying to regard the position not as a truce but as a surrender on our part’.3

  When Seán MacEoin wasn’t released with the other prisoners on 6 August, Collins protested: ‘No discussions without MacEoin!’ He was promptly released.

  Mick knew, as did all the other military men and women, that activity was essential for those who had been on permanent active service for some time, that a period of prolonged uncertainty could make the man with the gun a law unto himself. While de Valera talked, the country began to drift towards anarchy. It was essential that negotiations should be rapidly pushed to a conclusion. He said to Moya that ‘the days ahead are going to be the truly trying ones and we can only face them with set faces and hearts full of hope and confidence. It would be very dreadful if we did anything wrong’.4

  Although intelligence work continued, and Dáil and cabinet matters absorbed much of his time, Mick had more room in his life for pleasure during the early days of the Truce. He asked the Leigh Doyles to take himself and Harry Boland in their recently purchased car to the Devil’s Glen in Rathdrum. Here he met other comrades and on that sunny July day they all sat down to a memorable picnic. It was as if he did not want the day to end. He played with children, stumbled on one occasion and fell into the shallow water.

  He also had the opportunity to go Granard more often and more openly to visit the Kiernans. In mid-July he went to Granard with Harry Boland where they met all the Kiernan sisters but spent time especially with Kitty. The slim, five foot five Kitty was lively, good-looking, practical and liked the good things in life. Before the military came to burn down their home in November, all had a quick chance to take something, and while Maud took the account book, Chrys the religious objects, Helen the dresses, Kitty took the silver.

  While Harry Boland was engaged in conveying messages between de Valera and Lloyd George, Mick paid another visit to Granard on his own. During a long walk in the garden Mick sensed warmth from Kitty and as
ked her to come with him to the Horse Show in Ballsbridge. By this time, he had no special girlfriend, although he had many female friends. He was still friendly with Susan Killeen and Dilly Dicker, who continued to work with him.

  On 2 August Mick dropped a line to Kitty. Checking his calendar he discovered that the Horse Show was a week away. ‘That’s a very long time to wait to see you. At the moment I don’t know if I’ll be able to go down for the coming weekend, but I’ll try ... When do you come up yourself? ... Am really anxious to see you,’ he wrote.5

  The Horse Show of 1921 was a great occasion. Mick, Kitty, Harry, Richard Mulcahy, Celia Gallagher and a number of other friends met up there.

  A few days later Harry was once more on a mission for de Valera, but on 21 August Mick wrote to Kitty: ‘Harry is back here this morning. Will that entice you to come to town, to give you that chance to which he is entitled? Do you remember what I said about this?’ She had obviously given Mick grounds for some hope, but because of his friendship with Harry, he wanted her to make her own decision.6

  It was too late to post this letter and besides he had no stamps. On the following day he got a letter of rebuke from Kitty. So to ‘avoid a misunderstanding’ he wrote immediately ‘under great difficulties at a Dáil meeting’ because he wondered if she was angry with him ‘because I did not travel [to Granard] yesterday but I had to work.’7

  On 31 August he wondered how she was ‘now – and since’. His arrangements the previous night ‘were shattered’ because he had ‘to talk very very high politics from 10.30 to 2.30’, in Wicklow. And the night before that he had been meeting the IRB in order to defend Harry’s stance in the US conflict between de Valera and the Clan na Gael leaders. Defending Harry – ‘Isn’t that rather nice?’ he asked Kitty.8

  In fact he did not give Kitty the full story of his extremely busy schedule but he wrote from Wicklow to Moya Llewelyn Davies:

  I was up at 5 am Sunday morning and the next time I took off my clothes was at 4.30 am on Tuesday morning ... I was on the road again at 7.30 that morning. This will show you what the peaceful restfulness of the Truce is.9

  A general election had been held in May to give effect to the Government of Ireland Act, which had been passed to establish separate parliaments in northern and southern Ireland. Collins had been returned for Armagh as well as Cork.

  Now the Dáil asked him to go to Armagh. ‘I must do it although I hate a public meeting like I hate a plague ... I’m going to endeavour making such an appeal to them as will make them rock to their foundations – at least I’m going to try,’ he told Moya.10

  Very early on Sunday morning Mick, with his secretary, Sinéad Mason, Harry Boland, Vinny Byrne and Joe Hyland, headed for Armagh, where, Harry Boland said in a letter to Kitty, they ‘had a very strenuous day.’11

  When the youthful Mick with the dark moustache leaped up, threw himself over the platform rail and stretched out his hands there was an instant storm of cheering. He appealed to the Orangemen ‘to join with us, as Irishmen to come into the Irish nation ... to come in and take their share in the government of their own country’.12

  Back in Dublin, he wrote to Kitty next day; he told her about his busy schedule which included a visit to ‘the head of Blessed Oliver Plunkett’ in Drogheda where he lit a candle for her.13

  Two days later Harry Boland wrote to Kitty, saying he expected to be in Scotland later in the month as talks of negotiations were on the horizon; he ‘very much’ wished to see her before taking the trip. However, as she was on holidays in Donegal, he would ‘wait patiently for a later day’ if needs be. ‘If you see a wee bit of white heather, you might pluck it for me and send it for luck on my Scotch trip.’14

  Harry travelled to Granard to be with Kitty on 18 September, but felt he had to return too soon. Meanwhile, Collins and Gearóid O’Sullivan sent telegrams to him to Granard, but he had left before these arrived. He would like to ‘double-cross’ the pair, he wrote to Kitty afterwards. ‘It seems to me that I have a hard road to travel ere I can call you my very own!’15

  That night Harry had met up with ‘the bunch’ and went with them to a show in the Gaiety and to supper in the Gresham. He told her, ‘many of my pals (?) asked “How did you (meaning me) get on at Granard?” To all of which I failed to respond’. By now their comrades knew that he and Mick were rivals for Kitty’s heart. He wrote this letter to her before going to bed. He wanted to tell her how much he had enjoyed the trip and ‘to say how lonely I feel to-night. Even during the gayest moments of the evening I was all the time thinking of you, sweetheart, and am certain you and I will be for all time lovers’. He finished the letter, ‘Goodnight, sweet love, and I am certain I will win you against the formidable opponent with which I am faced. God bless and guard you until we meet again. Sweetheart, good night. XXX, XXXXX’.16

  Meanwhile, on the political scene, letters were exchanged between de Valera and the British government which led ultimately to the appointment of five plenipotentiaries to a conference in London.

  De Valera, who would not lead the delegation, insisted, ‘from the personal touch and contact I had with the mind of the Minister of Finance [Michael Collins] that I felt I knew that he was absolutely vital to the delegation’. Collins protested ‘with all the vehemence at his command’. He believed that because of his extreme reputation his name could be better used at home. During the previous negotiations Collins had asked to go to London with de Valera, but now that Britain was rejecting the Republican claim he felt he was being used merely as a scapegoat by some Dáil members.

  After a heated debate he addressed the Dáil: ‘To me the task is a loathsome one. If I go, I go in the spirit of a soldier who acts against his judgement at the orders of a superior officer’.17

  That evening he was morose. He went to Batt O’Connor’s house. Batt said:

  I will never forget his agony of mind. He would not sit down, but kept pacing up and down the floor, saying that he should not be put in that position; that it was an unheard of thing that the soldier who had fought the enemy in the field should be selected to carry on negotiations. He said it was de Valera’s job, not his.18

  He was agitated and could not sleep. ‘I remained out of bed last night until four this morning,’ he told Kitty, in whom he had sensed a coolness. ‘If you are still keeping up that hideous resolution of yours about not writing, I suppose I shall hear from you when I see you and not until then. Is it so, love?’19

  Collins was to be second-in-command of the five man delegation. Griffith would be chairman, Robert Barton, economic expert; Éamonn Duggan and George Gavan Duffy lawyers, Erskine Childers and John Chartres secretaries, and Fionán Lynch and Diarmuid O’Hegarty assistant secretaries.

  The credentials stated that the delegates were ‘Envoys Plenipotentiary from the elected Government of the Republic in Ireland to negotiate and conclude with the representatives of His Britannic Majesty George V a Treaty or Treaties of association and accommodation between Ireland and the Community of Nations known as the British Commonwealth.’ In a further directive the cabinet gave them instructions under which ‘the complete text of the draft Treaty’ about to be signed was to be ‘submitted to Dublin and reply awaited.’20

  The delegates were in a paradoxical position, which has been a source of endless debate and discussion. They were to take with them de Valera’s draft document of ‘External Association’.21Though the delegates had only ‘a hazy conception of what it would be in its final form,’ according to Barton, ‘What was clear was that it meant that no vestige of British authority would remain in Ireland’.22

  Mick had sworn allegiance to the Republic, but he knew now that the national aspirations might have to be compromised. He decided he would go to Cork to preside at a divisional meeting of the IRB which was held at Nora O’Brien’s house in Parnell Place. Though those present were IRB officers, the integration with the IRA in the south was so complete that the two organisations were in agreement on methods and objectives.


  Prior to the meeting Collins told Liam Lynch and some other officers that ‘some modifications of the full Republican demand might have to be made in the London negotiations, if a settlement was to be reached’. However, he did not mention this when speaking at the meeting, but said they had earned ‘the right to be consulted before any final decision was reached on whatever terms of settlement were proposed by the British, and that for his part he would do his best to see that they were consulted’. Whether it was due to an oversight, or pressure of work, the Cork activists did not receive any further communication until 12 December, after the Treaty had been signed.23

  Notes

  1 Collins to Moya Llewelyn Davies, 23/7/1921.

  2 Ibid.

  3 Collins to de Valera, 19/7/1921.

  4 Collins to Moya Llewelyn Davies, 9/7/1921.

  5 Michael to Kitty, 2/8/1921, Kitty Kiernan letters, Peter Barry private collection.

  6 Ibid., 21/8/1921.

  7 Ibid., 22/8/1921.

  8 Ibid., 31/8/1921.

  9 Collins to Moya Llewelyn Davies, 31/8/1921.

  10 Ibid.

  11 Harry Boland to Kitty Kiernan, 8/9/1921, Kitty Kiernan letters, Peter Barry private collection.

  12 Morning Post, 5/9/1921.

  13 Michael to Kitty, 6/9/1921.

  14 Harry Boland to Kitty, 8/9/1921.