Dan Breen and the IRA

by Joe Ambrose

  During July and August the anti-Treaty IRA sought to stabilise its collapsing positions by pouring all its efforts into what became known as the Munster Republic, a concept which carried some weight in Kerry, Cork, Limerick and Tipperary. The National Army undermined their efforts by landing troops and armaments on the coasts of Cork, Kerry and Waterford. On 29 July, the Provisional Government captured Limerick and Waterford. On 10 and 11 August, Cork and Fermoy fell. Very soon the republicans were making a last stand in south Tipperary and the surrounding countryside. De Valera, president of an increasingly hypothetical Republic, roamed around from one Munster rebel stronghold to another. Clonmel became, at one stage, the centre of the territory controlled by the IRA.

  Breen – with a reserve of over 100 men – reluctantly established his own headquarters at Nine Mile House, on the south-east side of Tipperary close to the Kilkenny border. Far from his usual stomping grounds on the other end of the county, he controlled a virtually impregnable group of dwellings which were surrounded by earthen fences and ditches.

  His position soon came under attack from National Army troops commanded by Thomas Ryan, who’d previously served with him in Seán Hogan’s flying column. Reading between the lines, it looks as if Ryan’s soldiers were reluctant to wipe out Dan Breen and as if Breen was equally unwilling to go for the jugular. He showed little taste for real fighting during the Civil War and seems to have spent a great deal of time, uncharacteristically, keeping out of harm’s way.

  Thomas Ryan subsequently said: ‘A second column under Joe Byrne was to attack on the left flank and Liam McCarthy, with 200 men, was to make a frontal attack, but neither came into the picture. McCarthy delayed, removing mines from the roads and Byrne got lost in the mountains of Windgap. We went from Kilkenny to Mullinahone, where we waited till night-fall before we headed into the mountains. I marched through most of the night and got my men in position, fifty yards from Breen’s post, at about four in the morning. I would never have succeeded without this young farmer fellow. My trouble was to extend men along 200 yards when they had little idea of what was wanted. I had hardly got them deployed when a machine-gun opened up. My chaps started belting off and I saw all the ammunition being gone in a couple of hours and the column captured and disgraced on top of that.’

  Ryan walked bravely (but foolishly) in front of the machine-gun fire, telling his inexperienced men that they would have to put up a bit of a fight if they were going to win. Some of his raw recruits were ‘sticking their heads in bushes and praying for their lives.’ They were, no doubt, familiar with Dan Breen’s reputation as a slayer of men. Ryan calmed his soldiers down, advising them to be more careful when aiming.

  ‘Anyway, we got to scrapping,’ said Ryan, ‘guns going on both sides in spells with a lull in between. I’d got such a good position on the bank that although they were firing at us from 5 a.m. to 3 p.m., no one was injured.’

  Breen was not much impressed by the fight and, years later, told Ryan: ‘I could have shot you forty times or more when you were out in the open.’ Although Ryan was not yet getting the better of the situation, Breen decided to withdraw, thinking that no good purpose would be served by hanging on to be ultimately captured.

  During the days of Breen’s Nine Mile House command, Robert Brennan came across him and remembered the meeting in his memoir, Allegiance: ‘A Ford car brought us from Carrick-on-Suir to Kilkenny and, though the distance is only thirty miles, the journey occupied a whole day. The route lay through a country which was daily the scene of encounters between the rival forces. We passed through the section held by Dan Breen who, jovial as ever, accompanied us to the limits of his territory.’

  J. T. Prout, now a major general in the National Army, began the process of driving the IRA out of his part of Leinster and the south-east. Using artillery and commanding the Second Southern Division of the army, he pushed south from Kilkenny, through Waterford and on into Tipperary during July and August.

  By 27 July, things were already so bad that Breen and Dinny Lacey were, according to the Third Tipperary Brigade’s own historian, an tAthair Colmcille Conway, ‘directed to be ready to rush to Clonmel to support any part of their front that might be attacked. Lacey’s reaction to this instruction is not known, but Breen noted on the copy of the letter received from Divisional HQ that he had no reserve left.’

  On 29 July, around Carrick-on-Suir, Breen was given further instructions he could not follow and was put in charge of ninety men. Prout marched on them from Waterford with 600 troops, field pieces, trench mortars and machine guns.

  The republicans rapidly withdrew to Clonmel, with Séamus Robinson then in charge of the town’s defence. He had moved up along the IRA’s chain of command, becoming commandant of their Second Southern Division. He played a gallant role in the Clonmel resistance – assisted by De Valera – and also saw action in the defence of Carrick-on-Suir and in the Knockmealdown Mountains.

  Breen kept his men on the eastern slopes of Slievenamon, not far from Clonmel, between Kilcash and Toor. The ruined castle at Kilcash had been built to provide a clear vantage point from which the Suir Valley could be observed. Now Breen’s lookouts climbed to the top of the ruins and used the castle, one last time, for its original purpose. De Valera visited this republican outpost and was reportedly seen, wearing binoculars, directing troop movements. The position was bombarded by a field gun amid heavy fighting.

  Prout advanced on Clonmel on 8 August by the back roads around Ballyneale, recruiting fresh enthusiastic men as he went. The republicans, by way of contrast, were now a small body of exhausted and disappointed men, much travelled, trying to hold lines all the way from Cork to Dublin. ‘In many IRA commands,’ an tAthair Colmcille wrote, ‘there were insufficient men even for the number of rifles available and in many areas desertions became frequent.’

  The republicans abandoned Clonmel on 9 August. This decision was made, not because the town was indefensible, but because it couldn’t be defended without heavy street fighting, loss of life and a great deal of damage to property. No doubt the Tipperary men involved blanched at the thought of bringing about the annihilation of the jewel in the crown of Tipperary’s towns. A large part of what was left of Ireland’s Civil War was now being fought in their zone.

  An animated reporter travelling with the conquering National Army when they marched into Clonmel reported: ‘Amid scenes of enthusiasm, Commandant General Prout with the column of national troops to which I have attached myself, entered Clonmel … the people thronged the streets and gave cheer after cheer to the victor of Kilkenny and Waterford. The soldiers were shaken by the hands and doors were flung open for their welcome. Captain Mackey, a native of the town, had a remarkable reception. He was raised shoulder-high by the people and borne triumphantly through the streets.’

  After the fall of Clonmel a prudent decision was made to abandon the foolish republican policy of fighting a conventional war. The hard core of fighters went back to what they knew best, guerrilla warfare. Breen returned to familiar territory, the Glen of Aherlow, located to the south of Tipperary town and Rosegreen.

  Ernie O’Malley wrote, in The Singing Flame, about visiting Rosegreen at this time when dreams had been dashed and idealism almost crushed: ‘I left the Cahir valley and arrived in the old south Tipp brigade centre at Rosegreen. The Davins were expecting us; many of my old friends gathered around the fire in their kitchen. After we had drunk the inevitable “drop of tay”, they recalled incidents from the Tan fight, trivial happenings, what we did or said, doings and sayings we had long since forgotten, a trick of speech, a sudden anger and a humorous jest in a tight corner. “Musha, do you remember”, someone would begin; then a roar of laughter from the others. Bill Quirke had captured a “ghost train” the previous week near Cashel. A ghost train was an armoured car on railway tracks, driven by a noiseless engine, to protect the line. Bill had commandeered it. “Then he brought the prisoners down here for a few pints apiece.” It was good to be back
here again.’

  Collins was ambushed and killed in Co. Cork on 22 August. He was rumoured to be holding private meetings with republican leaders in an effort to get a ceasefire. An tAthair Colmcille maintained that, ‘he was said to have announced privately his intention of contacting De Valera. He did contact Dan Breen, who received a message through an intermediary that Collins wished to meet him. Breen discussed this with [Liam] Lynch with whose approval he set out for Cork to meet Collins. Collins was killed on his way to this meeting.’

  ‘Fr Dick McCarthy in Limerick got in touch with me that Collins would like to see me,’ Breen later said, ‘I said I’d go on to Hickey’s of Glenville. It was an old meeting place of ours and he was to contact me there.

  ‘I loved Collins,’ said Breen. ‘I would have died for Collins, because he was the first of the big men in Dublin to give us support. Collins would stand by you until the last. GHQ in Dublin often did not back us up, but Collins always approved of our actions.’

  ‘Collins still trusted Dan,’ an tAthair Colmcille said. ‘During Dan’s time with the Squad he’d been one of Collins’ most dependable agents, often used to check out suspected traitors within the ranks. Collins trusted Dan’s reliability and keen powers of observation. I think that the Free Staters always had time for Dan, no matter how bad things got. They thought he’d tried his best with the Army Document scheme.’

  In September, the Free State was instigated by William Cosgrave, the new dáil president and it finally came into existence in December. On 10 October, the Cosgrave administration offered an amnesty to the IRA. On the same day the catholic hierarchy issued a pastoral letter which forcefully supported the Free State, while condemning the republicans. This intervention distressed or alienated many IRA fighters. Catholicism was at the centre of Irish life and numerous IRA and Cumann na mBan members were ardent catholics. Breen was not so very religious; the church’s hostility only fanned the flames of his unbridled scepticism. In later years he had a reputation for being anti-clerical and atheistic.

  On 12 October, the Glen of Aherlow was riddled with Free State troops and remained that way for the rest of the Civil War. Despite this, the IRA’s leaders met there on 16 October and decided to fight on.

  The passing of the draconian Army Emergency Powers resolution and its subsequent fervent implementation by Richard Mulcahy, allowed the Free State gloves to come off.

  ‘Rumours of peace revived around Christmas 1922,’ an tAthair Colmcille noted, ‘and again Breen’s name was mentioned in press reports claiming that negotiations were being conducted with him.’

  Breen was interviewed for the 8 January, 1923 edition of the Chicago Tribune and said: ‘I am agreeable to the expressed will of the people and to accept the decision of a general election … we do not want to prolong this struggle one moment longer than is necessary.’

  The Observer sent an incredulous journalist to meet him and to find out about the peace moves he was supposed to be involved in. He reported: ‘The fact is and I learn it from Breen himself, that while he is as much in favour of peace as anyone else could be, his business is to fight. He leaves peace-making to others. Indeed, when I saw him, Breen was panoplied for war rather than for peace. He carried, slung from his shoulder, a formidable machine-gun and his companion was similarly accoutred. Sufficient to say that for three hours he talked peace and at the end of that time we had got no further than the pious expression from Breen that he and his associates wanted peace as much as everyone else and they would not prolong the struggle one moment longer than necessary.’

  In another communiqué to the people Breen articulated his faith in a general election. He meant an election for the entire island, including the northern counties: ‘I would insist on the whole of Ireland coming in, even if we had to fight them in. The six counties could have been got in but for the weakness of the delegation which was sent to London and accepted the Treaty … The plain people of this country seem to think that we are not out for peace and that we do not want peace. This is a mistake. Let them remember that we who have fought for five years, under conditions that are known only to ourselves, are only human.’

  It was difficult for the people of south Tipperary to believe that the Irregulars, as the IRA were now sometimes known, had their best interests at heart. By January, eleven of the thirteen bridges over the River Suir in south Tipperary were blown up or put out of action. Food was being sent into Clonmel by boat but was intercepted by the IRA. Looting had been noted in Ballingarry, with some shopkeepers forced to provide the IRA with supplies.

  Liam Deasy, one of Liam Lynch’s closest right hand men, was arrested and it seemed likely that he would be executed. Dinny Lacey ordered the detention of five farmers who were the brothers of the Free State army commander in his district. In the event of Deasy’s death, he let it be known, the five brothers would be executed.

  Thomas Ryan, who had known Lacey well since their flying column days, knew how to put pressure on his old friend. It was all getting very personal: ‘I knew that it was possible to contact Lacey urgently through a sweetheart – Miss Cooney, a flying column comrade of mine pre-Truce who became Irregular and was at this time one of Lacey’s key personnel. She was at business in Clonmel and was known to be doing Irregular work. I called to her address and gave her a dispatch to be delivered in haste to Lacey. The wording of the dispatch was as follows: “I understand that Liam Deasy will be executed tomorrow. Should you, following the event, carry out your threat to execute the five prisoners now held, inside twenty-four hours of execution confirmation – every male member of the Lacey family in south Tipperary will be wiped out. Signed, Tom Ryan, Vice Brigadier, National Army”.’

  As luck would have it, Liam Deasy, having made an honourable deal with his captors, was not executed.

  In February, Breen managed the last of his Dan Breen-style getaways when he and Jerry Kiely were moving around together in the Glen of Aherlow. The house they were sleeping in was attacked by one of the many Free State units now combing the area ad infinitum. The Free State captain was killed by gunfire coming from within the house.

  Breen and Kiely had arranged between themselves that, if attacked, they’d retreat by the back door. When Kiely saw a soldier fall down dead right in front of the house, he decided to attempt an escape through the front door. As he made to do this his gun jammed, the soldiers fired on him and he died by the roadside. While this was happening Breen made good his escape through the nearby woods.

  Dinny Lacey died during a shoot-out in the Glen of Aherlow on 18 February. He’d grown in prominence during the Tan War and had become an outstanding leader during the Civil War. He’d organised the counter-attack when Prout took Waterford, was in charge of the defence of Carrick-on-Suir and, when the republicans held no other towns, instigated numerous ambushes in the Knockmealdowns.

  On 10 April, Liam Lynch was shot during a search-and-sweep operation in the Knockmealdowns. J. T. Prout personally accompanied the ambulance from Clonmel to the scene of the shooting. Lynch was removed to the hospital in Clonmel where he died. He had resisted all talk of a ceasefire though the IRA position had long been hopeless. With his death, the Civil War approached its end.

  A meeting of republican military leaders was held in the Knockmealdowns shortly after Lynch’s death. Breen, Austin Stack and Todd Andrews were amongst those attending. Stack prepared a handwritten statement of despair: ‘Realising the gravity of the situation of the army of the Republic owing to the great odds now facing them and the losses lately sustained and being of the opinion that further military efforts would be futile and would cause only injury to our country without obtaining advantage and being convinced that the defensive war which has been waged by our army for the past nine or ten months has made it impossible that the Irish people will ever accept less than their full national rights and fearing it would cause too much delay to await the summoning and holding of a full meeting of the army council or executive, we, the undersigned members of the
army council and of the executive and other officers of the army, do hereby call upon and authorise the president of the Republic to order an immediate cessation of hostilities.’

  Breen, having given the document some thought, rejected it. At daybreak, the men went on their separate ways with very little fight left in them. Stack headed towards Lismore, was captured on 14 April and went sullenly into captivity.

  For two days Breen remained in the hills living on little more than snow. His party eventually reached the Glen of Aherlow where he went into a dugout and fell into a deep sleep. While he slept he was surrounded by Free State soldiers. When he woke he was imprisoned for the first time in his life.

  My Fight for Irish Freedom, for once, eloquently captured the authentic dreadfulness of his situation: ‘From Galbally I was taken under escort to my native town, Tipperary, where I was put through some sort of trial. Next day I was taken from the Free State headquarters and marched to the railway station. The humiliation and agony which I endured during this 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 in the cause of his country.’

  The Civil War came to an end on 24 May when Frank Aiken, the new IRA chief-of-staff, announced a ceasefire.

  A general election was called for 27 August. This time Breen stood as a republican candidate. He was in Mountjoy Prison when he was elected on the first count. He was finished with fighting. He was just twenty-nine years of age.