The Real Chief - Liam Lynch

by Meda Ryan

  An army council had also been appointed at the Executive meeting. This consisted of Liam Lynch, Ernie O’Malley, Liam Deasy, Tom Derrig and Frank Aiken. Three members were also appointed to replace any member of the council who was killed or captured (Joe O’Connor, Con Moloney, Michael Kilroy). Fol­lowing a meeting of the Republican Army Executive, Lynch ex­pressed his satisfaction in a letter to his brother, Tom:

  It was a splendid review of the actual situation all over Ireland ... We are absolutely confident that the Free State is beaten and that it is only a matter of time when they must give in. Recently, we have been offered very broad terms, to their mind; but when they still stand in the way of independence we cannot accept them. We will accept no terms which brings Ireland into the British Empire.22

  Lynch now decided to move his headquarters to Dublin, as this would be advantageous from a communications point of view. Since he had come south at the end of June, he had maintained communication with Dublin through the valuable efforts of Kathleen Barry, a courier. Following the evacuation of Fermoy bar­racks in August, he remained in the First and Second Sout­h­ern Division area, and stayed in houses in his old brigade area. On 20 September Kathleen Barry met him at Killavullen to ac­company him to Rossadrehid in the Glen of Aherlow. He broke the journey to make a brief call home. While he was in the Glen, his brother, Tom, now a priest, cycled from Anglesboro to see him. On 14 October, accompanied by Con Moloney, Moss Twomey and Matt Ryan, Liam left the Glen to cross the Galtees to Ballybacon for the Executive meeting. Having stayed at Mc­Grath’s for a night, he travelled, mostly on foot, through south Kilkenny, Wexford, Carlow and Wicklow to Dublin where he arri­ved on 3 November 1922.

  The Dublin headquarters was established at Tower House, Santry. This large house had a secret room which was specially constructed. The secret room was used to conceal men at the fre­quently held meetings, also weapons, documents, typewriter and other evidence of the presence of so many people. Here Liam and his staff were the guests of the Cassidy and Fitzgerald fami­lies. Both families were extremely kind, helpful and thorough in their cover-up; indeed while Liam was there, no attention was drawn to him or his comrades’ presence or to their headquar­ters.23

  Just two days after Lynch’s arrival in Dublin, Ernie O’Malley was captured having been seriously wounded in a fight. On 17 November the first executions under the Provisional Govern­ment legislation took place (four young men who were armed when captured). Erskine Childers was shot on 24 November and on the same day Michael Kilroy, O/C Western Command was wounded and captured. Frank Barrett O/C First Western Division reported at the end of the month that ‘as a result of the capture by the enemy of nearly all the best officers in the area the organisation showed very grave signs of collapse, consequently all our energies are directed towards re-organising.’

  It was with shock that Lynch watched the new twist which the Civil War was taking; the Provisional Government’s policy of executions grieved him as did the atrocities carried out by the pro-treaty forces. In a letter to the Provisional Government, dated 27 November (a copy of which he sent to Thomas John­son, chair­man of the parliamentary Labour Party), he protested that they had ‘declared war on the soldiers of the Republic and suppressed the legitimate parliament of the Irish nation’:

  As your Parliament and Army Headquarters well know, we on our side have at all times adhered to the recognised rules of warfare. In the early days of this war we took hundreds of your forces prisoners but accorded them all the rights of prisoners of war and, over and above, treated them as fellow countrymen and former comrades. Many of your soldiers have been released by us three times al­though captured with arms on each occasion. But the prisoners you have taken have been treated barbarously, and when helpless you have tortured, wounded and murdered them ...

  Next to the members of your ‘Provisional Government’ every member of your body who voted for this resolution by which you pretend to make legal the murder of soldiers, is equally guilty. We therefore give you and each member of your body due notice that unless your army recognises the rules of warfare in future we shall adopt very drastic measures to protect our forces.24

  On 30 November, he issued an order, which was captured, stat­ing that ‘all members of the Provisional “Parliament” who were present and voted for the Murder Bill will be shot at sight.’25Fol­lowing this on 7 December, Dáil deputy Seán Hales was shot dead, though being absent he had not voted. Controversy has sur­rounded this shooting, as Deputy Pádraig Ó Maille, who was travelling with him, was also shot but not seriously wounded.

  Early next morning four men who had been prisoners since the fall of the Four Courts at the end of June (Rory O’Con­nor, Liam Mellows, Joe McKelvey and Dick Barrett) were taken from their cells in Mountjoy and executed.

  The Free State had officially come into existence on 6 Decem­­ber 1922, and now the Civil War had taken on a cruel and bitter twist.

  Meanwhile, down south Tom Barry, who had escaped from Gormanstown in September, had been planning a major blow against the Provisional Government forces. Shortly after his es­cape, Lynch had appointed him operations officer, Southern Command. Later Lynch appointed him director of operations, in charge of all divisional O/Cs. By early November, aided by several districts officers in the Southern Division Barry had organised a massive 580 riflemen: they encircled Cork city, held all roads to Macroom, Bandon, Kinsale, Cobh. In this daring opera­tion Barry’s strategic plan secured many Cork towns for the Re­pub­licans. He mobilised men to take Bandon, then the twin towns of Ballineen and Enniskeane, then Ballinvourney, Ballin­geary and many other towns and villages in west and mid Cork.

  With Lynch, Barry organised a selection of men to prepare for a northern offensive. Lynch was convinced that Barry’s mili­tary genius would pull the war in the Republicans’ favour. Barry secured men from the Southern Division, as well as guns and am­munition to travel to Donegal for the first leg of the journey to attack Derry. Barry hoped this would bring the Provisional Govern­ment into a decision to join in a united attack against Britain. His belief was that as a united army they could fight the common cause of Ireland.

  With a few selected experienced column leaders from the Cork brigades and a force from the Second Southern Division, he went to Tipperary and with Dinny Lacy and a group of Tip­perary men he organised a combined attack on Free State posts at Callan, Mullinavat, Thomastown and Carrick-on-Suir during the early days of December. According to Dan Cahalane, ‘he marched through villages and towns where they hardly stood to fight. They practically handed the places over to him.’ His re­pu­tation as a daring elusive commander, the man who could neither be held nor killed, had made him into a legendary figure. He had plans to develop the offensive northwards by an attack on Temple­more where he hoped to capture artillery, thus en­abling him to attack the Curragh and then on to the capital, Dublin. The winter and the war dragged on and Barry’s plans were frustrated by the rapid change in the situation in the early months of 1923.

  During the closing days of 1922 and the early days of 1923 the outlook for the Republican forces was not hopeful, yet men were facing it with great fortitude. The executions of prisoners in jails and the deaths of leaders on both sides added to the horror of the situation. Lynch was well aware that his own life was in danger and that at any time death was close. He wrote a letter from Tower House to his mother on 22 December:

  I do pray that many weeks of the New Year shall not pass before the Civil War ends, but really I have not much hope of an early ending as our present enemy still insists on dishonouring the nation by forcing her into the British Empire. If I should happen to be mur­dered by fellow Irishmen I’ll die with an intense love for the nati­onal Irish people, and on behalf of my comrades of the IRA who have stood up to the British Empire for years, sincerely forgive the Irish people who unintentionally wish to dishonour the nation ... Would that England’s hounds had tracked me down rather than old comrades who have been false to their all
egiance. Future gene­rations can best judge our actions, and these will be proud we so acted at a vital period. After the present, propaganda, material­ism and war-weariness hide the brave sacrifices that are being made by our forces.26

  Con Moloney, who understood exactly what was happening in the south, wrote to Lynch from the Glen of Aherlow on 4 De­cem­ber 1922 and told him not to think military victory would be possible as they faced a stone wall, also that local initiative was dead, and discipline had relaxed. Lynch in his reply agreed that the position in the west was far from satisfactory but added that he was determined to continued to fight: ‘The loss of leaders and sacrifices from week to week cannot under any circumstances bring us to lessen our demands.’ The following day Lynch issued a circular on peace moves in which he stated ‘no terms short of Independence can be accepted by Army or Government.’

  Day and night he worked, endeavouring to foster an atmo­sphere of confidence and optimism in the other officers. He was convinced that the Republican forces could maintain almost in­definitely the kind of opposition to the Provisional Government forces which would eventually cause them to accede. He be­lieved he could create a situation which would force the treaty­ites to abandon their cause, surrender to the old movement, and in a united effort demand a less humiliating settlement with Britain.

  By this stage he had lost faith in the sincerity of Free State proposals, believing that their general policy was to split the soli­darity of the army Executive. Not even De Valera’s request ear­lier in August could wean his mind from the course in which it had now been set. De Valera also wrote to Lynch suggesting that it was their duty to meet the Free State in some form of political basis. ‘It has always been my view that with anything like good­will on both sides a constitutional way out of this im­passe could be found.’27But even though military victory was out of reach, Lynch’s outlook remained unchanged.

  1 Lynch private family papers.

  2 Ibid. See also Mulcahy papers, File P7/B/2.

  3 Ibid.

  4 Ibid.

  5 Operation Order No. 9, 19 August 1922.

  6 Lynch private family papers.

  7 Ibid.

  8 Liam Lynch to Liam Deasy, 28 August, 1922, Deasy private papers. See also, Eoin Neeson, Sunday Review, 11 January 1959.

  9 Paddy O’Brien, author interview, 6/8/1975.

  10 Liam Deasy, Brother against Brother.

  11 Meda Ryan, The Tom Barry Story, p. 121.

  12 Letters by Capt. T. C. Courtney to S. P. Cahalane – one of the intermediaries.

  13 Mulcahy papers P7/D/65/22/20, University College, Dublin, Ar­chives.

  14 Ernest Blythe, author interview, 8/1/1974.

  15 Emmet Dalton, author interview, 4/4/1974.

  16 Letter by Lynch to his brother Tom, 27/10/1922 (Lynch private family papers).

  17 Lynch private family papers.

  18 Florence O’Donoghue, No Other Law, p. 271.

  19 Lynch private family papers.

  20 Dorothy Macardle, The Irish Republic.

  21 Longford and O’Neill, Éamon De Valera, p. 201.

  22 Letter to his brother Tom, 28/10/1922 (Lynch private family papers).

  23 HQ staff consisted of P. J. Ruttledge, Tom Derrig, Moss Twomey, Seán Brunswick, Madge Clifford and Liam Lynch.

  24 Mulcahy papers, University College, Dublin, Archives P7/A/199; See also Florence O’Donoghue, No Other Law, p. 279.

  25 Mulcahy papers, University College, Dublin, Archives P7/A/83.

  26 Lynch private family papers, 22/12/1922.

  27 Longford and O’Neill, Éamon De Valera, p. 212.

  24. Determination and hope of victory

  Though Liam Lynch saw what was happening in Ireland, he was, nevertheless, aware of the intervention of Britain in affairs since the outbreak of the Civil War. On 30 January 1923 he made a de­tailed report to the president and ministers stating that:

  When the Civil War broke out orders were issued from the Four Courts to wage war on England but owing to disorganisation no­thing could be done. At the last meeting of the Executive the matter was again discussed, but though action was very much favoured I was not in a position to recommend it, as we had not a staff in charge and no satisfactory organisation.

  He now believed that his forces in England were sufficiently well organised and equipped to undertake operations in specific areas, and suggested that hostilities against the common enemy should be undertaken. Whether or not this suggestion was a ploy for unity, the rapid changes in the situation in Ireland certainly can­celled out any plans which he may have had for an offensive in Britain.

  By the end of January 1923 guerrilla warfare was almost over. Fighting was reduced to sniping attacks between opposing forces. Fifty-five executions had been carried out and many more were pending. The Free State authorities had introduced a policy of sentencing prisoners to death in places where Republican acti­vi­ties were taking place, consequently the conflict now lacked any human dignity. It seemed that the Free State forces were out to win the struggle no matter how ruthless the methods. It was evi­dent that military victory was no longer a possibility, yet dog­gedly and stubbornly both sides continued the battle.

  The Republicans seemed prepared to continue fighting even though their strength had been steadily whittled down, with lives being lost daily; their actions were outlawed by the church; the majority of the people and the morale of their forces was weaken­ing. Tom Barry, Liam Deasy and men at ground level began to see that victory was impossible and that negotiations should be under­­taken. Liam Deasy was captured on 18 January as he lay sick in a house in Tincurry. Previous to this he had been formu­lating proposals to end the conflict as he realised that further re­sistance was useless. He was aware of the responsibility which he held, but unfortunately his arrest did not help the situation. No longer free and trapped into making a decision, he felt obliged to avail of the only means his captors left open to him; faced with death, he decided that there was no point in con­tinuing, as many more of his comrades would be executed by the Free State govern­ment,1therefore he signed a document dictated to him which agreed to an unconditional surrender of all arms and men as re­quired by General Mulcahy:

  ... in pursuance of this undertaking I am asked to appeal for a similar undertaking and acceptance from the following: E. de Valera, P. Ruttledge, A. Stack, M. Colivet, Domhnal O’Callaghan, Liam Lynch, Con Moloney, T. Derrig, F. Aiken, S. Barrett, T. Barry, S. McSwiney, Séamus Robinson, Humphrey Murphy, Séamus O’Donovan, Frank Carthy and for the immediate and unconditional surrender of themselves after the issue by them of an order for surrender on the part of all those associated with them, together with their arms and equipment.2

  Though not looked on at the time as a courageous stand Liam Deasy’s appeal was subsequently regarded as such. Copies of it, together with a long covering letter in which Deasy set out the reasons which impelled him to make it, were delivered to the mem­bers of the government and army Executive by Fr Tom Dug­gan who had been nominated as courier by Liam Deasy. The Free State government did not publish the document imme­diately but waited until 9 February 1923 and gave it the widest publicity in conjunction with a similar appeal made by prisoners in Lime­rick.

  The policy of executions initially begun in November 1922 continued to mount with ruthless vigour.3On 20 January 1923 eleven prisoners were shot, two in Limerick, four in Tralee, five in Athlone. On 22 January three men were executed in Dun­dalk, on 23 January two in Waterford, on 26 January two more were shot in Birr and on the next day two were executed in Mary­boro. Not even the terrible cost in blood, in sorrow and in sadness, not even the bleak prospect that failure may be nigh, not even the appeals of former, now neutral, comrades nor of church leaders or of friends could alter Lynch’s determination to conti­nue the struggle in arms. He stood firmly in the role in which he had set out, and replied: