Tom Barry

by Meda Ryan

  One day, some time later, with a twinkle in his eye, Barry said to his friend Christy Barrett, ‘Can you imagine me up there on the screen, in and out of bed with all the coleens of West Cork!’ He told Christy he would not stand for that. There was enough action; such a film ‘wouldn’t need that distraction.’[23]

  Barry declined an invitation to unveil a 1916 memorial in Limerick, because he felt unworthy as he had not participated in the Rising. Seán T. O’Kelly told him that ‘no man living is more worthy to unveil such a memorial than yourself. The fact that you were not out in the Easter Rising has to my mind no bearing on the question. You did much more in the cause of the independence in Ireland later on than most of those who were in 1916 ever did.’ Still he declined. Leslie, who was in the GPO during the 1916 Rising, was then asked and agreed to do the honour.[24]Whenever the president was in Cork he sought out Barry’s company. They went to festivals and exhibitions, such as an informal private visit to the Seamus Murphy exhibition at the [Cork City] library.[25]Barry was an avid reader, mainly non-fiction, correspondence shows he shared his views with Seán T., Connie Neenan in America and the writer and social revolutionary, Peadar O’Donnell. (A collection of his books are held in Cork City Library.) He also loved the races and enjoyed his trips to Cheltenham. It was the only time, he said, that he could look down on the queen! These trips also gave him an opportunity to visit his relatives in England.[26]

  When President Seán T. O’Kelly was due to resign, the Clones Branch of The Old IRA and National ex-Servicemen’s Association ‘unanimously passed a resolution’ that ‘Comdt General Tom Barry be invited to stand as an independent non-political candidate at the forthcoming Presidential election.’ They wanted members of the Old IRA countrywide and unity of all political parties ‘to rally’ in support of ‘this eminent Irishman’. They stated that the Americans ‘have brought back that famous war-time General Eisenhower’, therefore they saw it fit ‘to invite General Barry to offer his services to the nation once more.’ Though Barry felt honoured that he should be considered, he was not interested, and does not appear to have given it a second thought.[27]The Knights of St Finbarr, Corkmen’s Association in Massachusetts honoured him as ‘a noble man’ and ‘famous son of Cork,’ and added his name to most distinguished guests. They sent him wishes of ‘health and happiness in pursuance of your civic duties to your illustrious city.’[28]

  In 1956 Tom helped organise a project with Muintir na Tire for ‘the afforestation plantation at the scene of the Kilmichael Ambush’. On behalf of Old IRA members he wrote that ‘the only stipulation’ he sought was ‘that the plantation would not encroach the battle position where the blood of our dying comrades soaked the earth and rocks.’[29]

  As the 1950s progressed, secret IRA drilling continued throughout the country. The men in County Cork were again preparing. Barry was now completely out of the IRA movement; yet when called on to train the men, he did so willingly. ‘I’d be always for men who’d try and finish the job that we didn’t finish’, he told Nollaig Ó Gadhra. ‘Perhaps in my own way I did all I could to help them.’[30]

  In the 1956–1957 campaign, some of the IRA ‘lads met Barry in a house in Cork’ on a few occasions. He always started with a spirited talk. ‘He made it quite clear that they [Old IRA] didn’t fight for a 26 county Ireland but for a 32 county. He emphasised that, a number of times’, Bob Kehoe, Wexford, recalls. In advising them, he said that attacking barracks, putting a bomb at the door and having covering fire as had been done in the War of Independence would not work ‘forty years later.’ Modern ‘heavy machine-guns used by the RUC and British army’ would make such an attempt by the IRA ‘suicidal’. He gave them advice on armaments, told them that ‘the secret of guerrilla warfare was never to create a pattern’, he advised them to enlist the support of the local people and always wished them the best of luck. ‘What was evident was his loyalty to his own men. He spoke of team work – that a chain is only as good as its weakest link.’[31]

  In the 1956–1962 period there were sporadic attacks in the six counties. In Coalisland an RUC man was killed in a booby trap in August 1957. After renewed sweeps, Kevin Mallon and Francie Talbot were arrested and charged in November. The case hinged on a statement they were alleged to have made. However, they claimed that they had been beaten and tortured. Barry was made aware that they were not involved in the incident, so, with others, he organised the collection of signatures and money for their defence. The case ‘became a cause célèbre.’ Barry brought over a solicitor from Wales, named Elwin Jones. The jury threw out the case, and the men were released.[32]

  In June 1956 Barry informally presented Thomas F. O’Higgins with a tri-colour ‘in memory’ of his uncle, Kevin O’Higgins (pro-Treaty whom Barry greatly respected, and who was assassinated in 1927). This was the flag that Barry had raised in 1949 over the City Hall, Cork. Being ‘deeply touched’ by Barry’s ‘kind thought’, T. F. O’Higgins suggested that ‘because of the national significance’ of the flag, and also, because he believed that the symbol would encourage ‘younger people’ to ‘regard loyalty to the Republic reproclaimed in 1949, to its flag and its legacy, as not only a duty but a pleasure. The presentation of this flag underlines in many respects this fact,’ O’Higgins wrote, therefore, ‘the occasion should not be left go unnoticed’.[33]

  Described as ‘a man made for turbulence, Tom had ‘heroic qualities that were best suited for heroic situations’. Even at this late stage of his life when the raids and border campaign began, he would have gone up and fought in the north if he had been pressed to do so.[34]His attitude to the British in Ireland was like that of Dan Breen: ‘If there is a man in my house and I ask him to leave and he doesn’t leave, then I’m entitled to force him to go.’[35]

  Notes

  [1]Tom to Connie, 13 August 1949, TB private papers.

  [2]Tom to Richard Dalton, U.S.15/8/1949, TB private papers.

  [3]Con to Tom, 16/9/1949, TB private papers.

  [4]Tom Barry to J. C. Dempsey, 15 October 1949, TB private papers.

  [5]He flew from Shannon to New York on 12 November 1949, Flight 171, Reservations Supervisor to Tom Barry, 25/10/1949, TB private papers; The Gaelic American, 26 November 1949; The Boston Globe, 29 November 1949.

  [6]The Boston Globe, 29 November 1949; The Advocate, New York, 26 November 1949.

  [7]The Irish World And American Industrial Liberator, 19 November 1949; Pamphlets and letters in TB private papers.

  [8]President, Ancient Order of Hibernians to Tom 24/11/1949, TB private papers.

  [9]The Irish World and American Industrial Liberator, 19 November 1949.

  [10]The Gaelic American, 3 December 1949

  [11]The Pittsburgh Post Gazette, 21 November 1949. $100,000,000 is the amount given in the newspaper, as mentioned by Barry. This must be a typographical error, as the amount of $1,000,000 or even $100,000 is more credible. There is no evidence available that the Irish government had set aside this amount for arms for the Irish army; however, in keeping with his character, it is doubtful if Barry would have mentioned funds unless he had this information and had spoken to the government prior to making the statement. He was on good terms with this inter-party government.

  [12]The Irish World, 26 November 1949.

  [13]The Irish World; The Boston Herald; The Irish Echo (New York), 19 December 1949.

  [14]The Boston Herald, 30 November 1949.

  [15]Boston Daily Globe, 29 November 1949.

  [16]The Advocate, 3 December 1949.

  [17]The Irish Echo, New York, 10 December 1949.

  [18]Ibid.

  [19]Tom to Con, 16/12/1949, TB private papers.

  [20]The men were Frank Monaghan and James Conaty of Cavan, Campbell of Tyrone, Tony Cribben of Mayo, Conlon of Kildare, Joe Stynes and Edward Morrissey of Dublin, and John McGinn of Monaghan. A Refutation of the False Attacks on Tom Barry, Malachy Conlon and Jeremiah Lennon.

  [21]A Refutation of the False Attack on Tom Barry, M
alachy Conlon and Jeremiah Lennon – a Reply, n.d. circa November–December 1949, It states: ‘This pamphlet ... is issued with the indorsement of the Veterans of the above brigades from New York, New Jersey, California, Boston and Chicago’, FO’D Papers, MS.31, 490, NLA; Criostóir de Baróid, author interview 11/1/1981.

  [22]J. F. McGrath, President AOH Bronx, New York, to General Tom Barry, 24 November 1949, TB private papers.

  [23]Connie Neenan to Tom 4/12/1951, TB private papers; Christy Barrett to author 11/4/2001. Tom Cooper, Killarney, made a film The Dawn in the 1930s, loosely based on the Kilmichael ambush.

  [24]Seán T. Ó Ceallaigh, 21/5/1956, TB private papers.

  [25]Seán T. O’Kelly to Tom, 24/5/56, TB private papers.

  [26]I am indebted to Eamonn Kirwin, Librarian, Cork City Library for drawing my attention to this collection; Jean Crowley to author, 3/4/2002.

  [27]Notes, and newspapers cutting, n.d. TB private papers.

  [28]Seán F. O’Hourihane, Sec. St Finbarr, Corkmen’s Association, Mass, 17/3/ 1956.

  [29]Tom Barry to Mr Kelly, Carpenter, Shangashel, 8/12/1956, TB private papers.

  [30]Tom to Nollaig Ó Gadhra, speaking of Seán South and the 1950s Northern campaign, RTÉ Sound Archives, 1969.

  [31]Bob Kehoe, author interview 28/11/1998.

  [32]Ruairí Ó Brádraigh to author, 10/3/2002; Bowyer Bell, p. 367.

  [33]Thomas F. O’Higgins, office of the minister for health, to Tom Barry, 8 June 1956, TB private papers.

  [34]Criostóir de Baróid, author interview 11/1/1981.

  [35]Jerh Cronin, author interview 10/1/1981.

  24 – ‘A True Humanitarian’

  In the early 1950s an old IRA comrade of Barry was being pressed by the bank to pay off a debt of £30,000 which would mean selling his farm. He went to Tom, who immediately came to his aid.

  The pair walked in one morning to the bank manager. In the back conference room they were asked to take a seat. Barry took out his colt, placed it on the table and sat down, his friend sat beside him and the bank manager opposite. Within a short space of time Barry, periodically fingering the gun, succeeded in getting the debt reduced to £10,000.

  ‘We’ve another call to make,’ Barry said to his friend as they came out the door. Down they went to the solicitor; the performance, complete with gun, was repeated. And, of course, the solicitor agreed that he would send no more letters on behalf of the bank.

  This was typical of Barry. Though he lived within the state, accepted the laws of the state, yet when the welfare of his friends was threatened, he used a cavalier attitude in helping them achieve their objective. As the years progressed he helped many of his friends in difficult circumstances with such actions. On another occasion there was a question of right-of-way, where, with the aid of a solicitor, one wealthy landowner was in the process of taking a section of land from a small not-so-well-off farmer, an old IRA veteran. On request, Barry came to the man’s assistance, wrote a strong letter, which he had signed by other Old IRA veterans mentioning the power of the gun and that he still had an accurate shot. The problem was settled without any further interference.

  Another IRA veteran was not, for personal reasons, on very friendly terms with Barry. They had fallen out some years previously over a commemoration ceremony. However, when the veteran found that a new wall replacing the fence boundary had been moved in on his property and when other avenues did not seem to work, he went to Tom Barry. Though the two men had not spoken to one another for years, Barry got into action in his own flamboyant fashion and said that the wall had better be built ‘where it should be bloody well built or if not …’ Of course the wall was built, as it should have been in the first place!

  The foregoing stories were all given to me first hand by the people concerned, but because of such daring actions and the unflinching aura which seemed to exude from the man, other apocryphal legends seem to have built up around him.

  A typical Cork story tells of his effort to try to get a car during the Black and Tan years. He went into the Ford Motor Company in Cork and demanded a car.

  ‘Why should we give you a car? You’re not at war with the Americans!’

  ‘Hold on,’ said Barry. ‘Have you a piece of paper?’

  He wrote down, ‘In the name of the Irish Republic I declare war on America.’

  ‘Now give me a car!’[1]

  As there does not appear to have been such a car, the story belongs to the mythology of the man who became ‘larger than life’. It shows how people expected Barry to behave.

  This man, who could be so ruthless, was extremely kind, especially to those whom he felt, life had not treated too kindly. Den Carey was out of work for a period and Tom took him one day to buy a new suit of clothes. ‘That was his form; he’d do anything for you. I never saw a mean trick out of him. Because he was so straight, so outspoken in what he thought, people didn’t always agree with him, and even though he knew a falling-out might ensue, nevertheless he voiced his opinion.’

  Upon hearing that any of his old comrades were in hospital he would call to see them, and after he had left, invariably they would find an envelope with money in it under the pillow. One man told me that he had been in difficult circumstances and had been involved in an accident. Barry paid him a visit and brought a book, which he pulled out of his pocket upon leaving. ‘Maybe you’d read that some time,’ he said, throwing it on the bed as he left. Opening the book later the man found £20 inside a sealed envelope. There are several such related incidents of kindness.

  Most visits to his Old IRA comrades in hospital meant at least a £10 note in a sealed envelope. He was noted for his generosity and compassion. Visits to schools of special care children often meant that Barry, on departure, left an envelope for the teacher or director to buy something for the children. Though earning good wages as superintendent in the Harbour Board, he kept little for himself, as he ‘believed it was his duty to help those in need’.[2]

  A woman whose husband wasn’t well, wrote to ‘Mr Barry’ – ‘This will seem an impertinent request … I wish to trespass on your goodness to ask you for the loan of £10 until Wednesday … If I have not returned it to your home address by that afternoon ... keep this as an IOU against me … Don’t ask me what put you into my head – a friend of my own whom I could ask is out of town.’ She missed Tom when she called at his place of work, but would, she said, call to his home ‘about 3.15 p.m. for an answer.’[3]This is one of many such letters from people who had no connection with Barry. Even a son of an RIC man who left the force during the ‘troubles’ asked Tom to do something for his father, perhaps organise a pension.[4]

  Many people wrote to him asking for his assistance in obtaining a pension for them, and several acknowledged his intervention. He was involved with Liam Deasy in ‘pleading’ for pensions for ‘well deserved’ men. Liam would ask Tom to ‘outline a few incidents’ of which ‘you have the personal knowledge.’ The men themselves lacked the ability to write-up their own claims.[5]But he would be outraged when men not entitled to an IRA pension tried to obtain one. ‘He’d get angry that they would dare try’. If they were not in any way involved in the war he wouldn’t sign the form. Sometimes ‘this coloured their motives’ and their thinking of Barry changed later. John Browne, said he ‘never knew of any man with such high principles’.[6]

  When Mick O’Herlihy, one of ‘the boys of Kilmichael’ was burned to death in an accidental fire in Dublin in 1949, Tom and Liam Deasy organised a collection for funeral expenses and had the body brought back and buried in his home churchyard of Skibbereen. Both Tom and Liam paid off the balance in the final ‘account’.[7]

  Dr Ned Barrett felt he could always write to Barry about a problem which one of his compatriots had. ‘He was sure to show a tremendous concern. He was extremely loyal to his comrades. As an example, an old IRA man, a patient of mine, had broken his leg and was on a miserly pension of £15 a year, and when I wrote to Barry about him, he went to work and
succeeded in getting it brought up to £80, which shows his compassion. He was a true humanitarian.’

  He also felt that it was his duty as well as an honour to attend the funerals of all his comrades. ‘Though they may have played a small part in a fight, yet he always tried to show them the respect they deserved by attending their funerals.’ When relatives of IRA veterans who had been ‘down on their luck’ were left with funeral expenses, ‘it is known that Tom helped’.[8]Because IRA veterans gave so much ‘to the country’ in their early years many were left in poor circumstances. Towards the end of 1949 and 1950 Tom tried to organise a fund to assist families and relatives with payment for IRA veterans’ funerals. With Seán MacCárthaigh’s encouragement, he decided to approach the Cork GAA County Board. However, this did not appear to bear fruit.[9]Republicans, regardless of the decade of action, who were unable to acquire legal representation, for IRA activities, could rely on Tom for reassurance and defraying of costs.[10]

  He was ‘always helping, helping – particularly men who had fought with him, he loved to hear of their success, and was the first and always to their side if any of them met hard times. The good turns he did for so many will never be known because [many] were never prepared to admit it’, Denis Conroy recalls. ‘The words of the song will be true of Tom,we may have good men, but we’ll never have better.’[11]