1916 (47 page)

You will be interested in the enclosed. Naturally it has caused great excitement this evening. The document was to have been printed [in] Ireland today. The printers got alarmed, brought it to the
Irish Times
who advised its suppression and who I am told sent it to the Castle. Meanwhile the printers consulted a solicitor who also advised its suppression. The editor then thought of giving the gist of the document in the form of notes, but the matter was settled by the Castle stepping in suppressing it. Meanwhile some fifty thousand leaflets were printed. It was then brought today to the evening papers who all refused to publish it. During the day Ald. Tom Kelly published it under special circumstances in the corporation. It is said a meeting of the Privy Council was summoned. At any rate the papers published it in the evening with the usual denial from the military authorities.
⁶³

Curran provided his own theory, which, he said, was based on ‘good ground’:

Not long ago there was a grave anxiety lest the Huns would pay us a visit in Lough Swilly, if not on the E. coast of England. Great precautions were naturally taken. What would be more prudent for the military authorities to have in readiness [a] precautionary measure to deal with the armed forces of Liberty Hall and Sinn Féin. They must have had some scheme ready, if they are not fools. Liberty Hall and some of the wilder Sinn Féin people would certainly join the Huns. Equally certain it is that neither John MacNeill nor the National Volunteers would do so. But there is no getting over the fact that some of the same extreme people would.

That being so, Curran argued:

What is there to wonder at in the document except the isolation of this house and the Mansion House? I certainly cannot understand the prohibition of communication to this house and the Mansion House. I could understand neighbouring Volunteers seeking to conceal their weapons about the grounds in case of a general search, but I cannot surmise what they mean by prohibiting communication
from
here [original emphasis]. At any rate there is my theory. As the document has got into the evening papers, the Volunteers do not see the necessity of publishing the document in the way they contemplated.
⁶⁴

Curran recorded in his diary on 19 April that the archbishop did not accept Dublin Castle’s denials that the document was false; he thought that there was ‘a lot of substance’ in it. Séamus O’Kelly had visited Curran that same day, and confirmed that view. Curran then went to 2 Dawson Street, the headquarters of the Irish Volunteers. On entering the building, one walked on a stone plaque ‘recording the shooting of the civilians at Bachelor’s Walk’. (The plaque was later seized by the military.) There Curran met Eoin MacNeill, who also believed that the document was genuine. The conversation continued: ‘We were discussing bloodshed. Anyway, it was clearly conveyed to me by him that it would result in armed resistance, and certainly by Seán T., to whom I distinctly remember talking either on that evening of 19 April 1916, or next morning.’ Curran had not seen the evening papers. As Dublin Castle had sought to suppress publication of the document, the Volunteers had 50,000 copies of it ready to be handed out. As the following day was Holy Thursday, he said that they should be sent to the churches and the priests would see that they were distributed. Publication meant that it was not necessary to act on his suggestion.

On 20 April, Holy Thursday, the German arms consignment on the
Aud
was intercepted in Tralee Bay by the British navy. Its captain scuttled his ship on 21 April. Sir Roger Casement landed the same day from a U boat, stationed off Banna strand, near Tralee. He carried news that the promised German support would not be sufficient to launch an uprising. Shortly afterwards he was arrested.

On 21 April, Good Friday, Bulmer Hobson was ‘arrested’ by the IRB. He was opposed to the timing of the Rising. That evening, at 7pm, James MacNeill, Eoin’s brother, visited Curran and expressed his grave concern that a ‘small rash act by a fool on either side would cause a blaze and involve everybody’. He dreaded ‘a calamity arising out of what may well be a misunderstanding’. James, who was not on the council of the Volunteers, told Curran that two men, who were not identified, had called to see his brother that morning. They had ‘completely upset Eoin’ and he was extremely worried, as was James was. James wanted to seek an unofficial assurance that would be given to some responsible person ‘that no disarmament was intended’. This was a reference to Archbishop Walsh. Curran replied that he was ill and that nobody was allowed to see him except Dr Cox. Walsh’s doctor would learn the archbishop’s views by the following day. Cox was a close friend of the MacNeills. He was also a Privy Councillor with access to Dublin Castle. Curran asked MacNeill to accept him as a possible route to the authorities.

That night Curran told the archbishop of the visit. He listened carefully but said nothing. Curran, meanwhile, had also heard a bit of gossip, to the effect that an officer at a dance had told his partner that he had not taken off his clothes for forty eight hours, and that he had 10 other officers and 200 men in barracks under arms ready to attack the Volunteers. At twenty minutes to ten that night, Good Friday, Curran met Quinn. They talked about the dangers of disarmament ‘to which he [Quinn] was fully alive’. But the policeman was convinced that ‘the Volunteers were lunatics, playing into the hands of the military’. He mentioned that two men had been landed in Kerry, although he probably did not use the name Roger Casement to Curran on that occasion.

Curran met Dr Cox on Easter Saturday, 22 April, telling him that the archbishop would be prepared to discuss the matter raised by James MacNeill with him. Walsh, however, decided not to interfere. That did not prevent Dr Cox taking steps to make representations to the British authorities. But both Cox and Quinn told Curran that the military controlled everything, and that ‘not even the highest placed legal or civil authority carried any weight against the military’.

On 22 April Eoin MacNeill issued a countermanding order, cancelling manoeuvres for the following day. This appeared in the
Sunday Independent
the next day. Curran wrote to Hagan on Saturday, 22 April 1916.

Things are even more serious here. Yesterday the leaders of the Volunteers received serious news. I don’t know what it was except that they are convinced on what they regard as absolutely reliable authority that preparations to disarm them are in progress. The Volunteers will resist if this is attempted and are taking steps not to be surprised unawares. A rash step by a fool on either side will precipitate an outburst. Frankly I do not see how the thing can end without a blaze sooner or later.
⁶⁵

Curran, who was no amateur in the study of Irish politics, added:

Personally I find it hard to believe that the government or police authorities mean to cause trouble. They deny the genuineness of the published document, but many sane people including His Grace (and, I modestly add, myself) simply regard the denial as worthless. I look at the document as a plan agreed upon, or under consideration, for future eventualities, indefinite as regards time.

He identified the extremists, as he described them, within the nationalist ranks:

But the military people form the dangerous element on one side and Liberty Hall, the secret societies, and some of the more extreme Irish Volunteers form the dangerous elements on the other. I can hardly imagine the military authorities taking such a critical step without consulting the government and I can hardly imagine the government giving consent. It would simply set the whole country on fire …

He read the events as follows: ‘Naturally many people see in these supposed arrangements a move to introduce conscription. All is not plain sailing within the Irish party, nor within the National Volunteers.’
⁶⁶

Curran had heard alarming news from a priest who had come to his office in an agitated state after having a conversation with a Volunteer officer. He was told that ‘Easter Sunday’s mobilisation meant a rising’. The identity of the officer was not revealed by Curran other than that he was well known and much esteemed and that he was killed in the Rising. The officer had consulted the priest to ‘satisfy his conscience as to what he ought to do’. After the visit of the priest, Curran went to see Seán T. O’Kelly at the offices of the Gaelic League in 25 Parnell Square. According to Curran’s diary entry for that day:

He told me that the Volunteers were to mobilise on the following day [Sunday] at 4pm with arms and three days provisions. Seán felt like James MacNeill and feared the extremists, including those of his own body, would cause a clash. He was particularly apprehensive of the dangerous influence of Liberty Hall and T.C. [Tom Clarke] Among the other extremists were Pearse [and] Fitzgibbon.
⁶⁷

At the time Curran supported the position held by Eoin MacNeill: ‘I was entirely opposed to anything in the nature of a rising until the Germans could land.’ MacNeill’s countermanding orders were ignored by the inner core of the IRB led by Clarke, Pearse, MacDermott, MacDonagh, Joseph Plunkett, Ceannt and others. Bulmer Hobson was kidnapped by his fellow members of the IRB and held under house arrest in order to prevent him from trying to stop the Rising.

Curran wrote to Hagan again, on Easter Sunday, 23 April 1916:

Things passed off quietly here today. John MacNeill issued an order countermanding the mobilisation of the Volunteers. It was published in the
Irish [sic] Independent
and by messenger. The more extreme party (Liberty Hall and Pearse) tried to suppress it and declare that it was bogus. Result – a new scare. Miss MacNeill [Eoin’s sister] came here [archbishop’s house] towards 3pm to obtain help to stop the mobilisation and to declare the MacNeill order authentic. According to John MacNeill the carrying out of the mobilisation would end in a catastrophe and bloodshed. The order was obeyed, though there were small gatherings of Volunteers. A crisis has evidently come. I fear today’s change of procedure will lead to a split between the moderate and more extreme Volunteers.
⁶⁸

After speaking with the archbishop about Miss MacNeill’s visit, Curran undertook to go to priests of the nearer mobilisation districts and deliver a letter from Eoin MacNeill authenticating his order. He selected the districts of Fairview, Rutland Square and Camden Row. He went first to Fr John Flanagan of Marlborough Street. The latter went with the future Archbishop of Dublin, Edward Byrne, to Volunteer headquarters in Parnell Square where they found that MacNeill’s countermanding order was being carried out. Curran also gave a letter to Fr Walter MacDonald, later parish priest of Fairview. He agreed to ‘see after Fr Mathew Park’ (a mobilisation centre). Curran then went with Fr Charles Murphy of Harrington Street to Camden Row where the letter was given to a score of Volunteers. He found that they were disbanding when he arrived. Curran recorded that Quinn had spent all of Easter Sunday in Dublin Castle and had not returned at 10pm.
⁶⁹

E
ASTER
R
ISING AND AFTERMATH

A detailed account of Curran’s activities during Easter Week appears elsewhere in this volume. Suffice it to note here that he behaved very courageously during those days of revolution. The violence did not keep him indoors. Unfortunately, his fluent and frequent correspondence with Hagan and O’Riordan was interrupted by the unfolding tragedy.

Archbishop Walsh, it might be noted, came under some pressure on Easter Monday night from James O’Connor, a law officer working in Dublin Castle, who was later knighted for his services to the British Crown. He was attending the race meeting at Fairyhouse when he heard of the Rising. Hurrying back to Dublin, he called at archbishop’s house at about 6pm. Walsh received him briefly in a room off his bedroom. Fr Patrick Walsh, a secretary to the archbishop and subsequently
his biographer, had a brief word with the departing O’Connor as he was driving away. The archbishop talked with his secretary immediately after the interview. He had found O’Connor to be excited and panicky. The lawyer wanted the archbishop to write a letter calling on the insurgents to desist from their mad enterprise. The archbishop refused. He spoke to his secretary of the effrontery of O’Connor and the British government for trying to make a cat’s paw of him. In the presence of O’Connor, he had denounced the incompetence of a government that had allowed blood to be spilt. The archbishop spoke to him of the folly of a rising that could only end in defeat. Finally, he called on the government to resign and that, if they did not do so, they ought to be superseded. Walsh did not like the tactics of Dublin Castle. They had sent a Catholic law officer to him to secure his condemnation of the Rising. He refused to do so. But that did not prevent Fr Walsh writing in his book that: ‘Dr Walsh, archbishop of Dublin, expressed his detestation of it [the Rising] in an interview I had with him on Easter Monday of 1916.’
⁷⁰
The archbishop did not, however, break his public silence at this point.

Eoin MacNeill’s composure deserted him momentarily in his home at Woodtown on hearing of the uprising. Falling on his knees, he placed his head on his wife’s lap as he broke down and wept. ‘Everything is ruined,’ he said. He recovered quickly. On the Wednesday his home was visited by Arthur Griffith. He had cycled from Clontarf to Woodtown via Lucan and Templeogue. While neither man approved of the Rising, both agreed that something had to be done to try to bring forces to the relief of the men who were besieged in Dublin. But it was decided that effective action was impossible. Realising that the British would attempt to teach the Irish a lesson, MacNeill had sought to prevent further violence by sending a letter, probably on Tuesday 2 May, to General Maxwell, the commander of the British forces. Anxious that the British might provoke further bloodshed, he offered to try to prevent the spread of violence between the Volunteers and the British forces. His son, Niall, was the courier. Maxwell sent a car to MacNeill’s house to bring him to headquarters. He did not see Maxwell then, but was promptly arrested and taken to Arbour Hill. He saw Maxwell instead on Wednesday 3 May, but there was no meeting of minds. He had heard the executions taking place in the yard below on both the Tuesday and Wednesday. Taken out for exercise on Thursday morning, he walked between the wall against which the leaders had been shot and firing squads rehearsing for further action with empty rifles.
⁷¹