Read Dan Breen and the IRA Online
Authors: Joe Ambrose
Tags: #General, #Europe, #Ireland, #Political Science, #History, #Revolutionary, #Political, #Biography & Autobiography, #Revolutionaries, #Biography
One is not particular about personal appearance when there is an army at one's heels and a price of a thousand pounds on one's head.
Dan Breen,
My Fight for Irish Freedom
Having left Knocklong, the gang headed for a nearby house where a doctor took a quick look at Breen and Treacy. Breen was thought to be so seriously injured that he might not make it. He was given some morphine and, afterwards, he and Treacy were moved by pony and trap* to the home of David Clancy at Ballylanders, Co. Tipperary. Clancy was a lieutenant in the local Volunteer company; his brother Patrick became â before he was shot dead in August 1920 â vice-commandant of the Third Tipperary Brigade. Vigorous security was provided for the fugitives by a roster of Volunteers.
Treacy seemed to make a miraculous recovery from what had initially looked like grave injuries and was soon back to his usual placid self. A sympathetic doctor named Fitzpatrick was summoned from Kilfinane to examine the injured men properly. Breen was in a deep drug-induced sleep. Treacy was in good spirits, complaining about nothing more serious than a problem with one of his teeth. The bullet which had gone through his throat, Fitzpatrick discovered, had damaged nothing important, and just missed his jugular vein and carotid arteries.
Dr Fitzpatrick recalled in 1945 the condition in which he had found Treacy: âSeán Treacy was not complaining about the big and painful wound in his throat. Most men, myself included, would not have bothered about anything else. Yet all that worried Treacy was that loosened tooth. Treacy was the coolest man there, far cooler than I was. That was Seán Treacy!'
A couple of days after Knocklong a dispatch rider named Keane reached Mick Davern with a message from the Big Four, with news concerning their well-being. This information was sent, via Davern, to their families and friends: âI was told to tell Eamon O'Duibhir that Séamus Robinson was not wounded, that Seán Hogan's mother was to be told that he was not wounded and that he was all right, to tell Seán Treacy's mother that Seán was slightly wounded in the neck but it was of slight consequence. He [Keane] also told me that they needed money very badly and he got some money from the acting QM [Eamon O'Duibhir]. He then gave me a covering address to forward the money to Miss Lily Finn, Rathkeale, Co. Limerick.
âI brought Keane to Eamon O'Duibhir's, where we ascertained that there was only £7.10 in brigade funds. I urged Eamon to give it but he replied: “What in the name of God is £7.10 to four men on the run? Tell the boys that we will go out through the companies and collect more money. We'll get Paddy Ryan [Lacken] and Paddy Kinnane to collect in the mid-Tipperary Brigade also.” I proceeded to Alice Ryan of Church Street, Tipperary, a prominent Cumann na mBan girl and I met Commandant Seán Duffy of the Fourth Battalion, who was later killed. I also saw Con Moloney, acting brigade adjutant, and I informed him what had happened at Knocklong and told him to inform Mrs Treacy, Mrs Breen and Mrs Hogan. They suggested that I should go back home by Mrs Breen's, which I did. When I informed her of what had happened and that two of the RIC were killed, she said, “Oh, Christ, isn't it a pity that they didn't kill the four bastards?” The following day we collected over £100 and forwarded it. While collecting the money, we made no secret of what it was wanted for; it was for the gallant men who had rescued Seán Hogan. Some of the people who had no money in the house borrowed it from neighbours and only one man refused.'
It was vital to transfer the Big Four, to get them away from the vicinity of Knocklong. Arrangements for this removal were made by Seán Finn, the west Limerick commandant. At midnight, a few days after the rescue, two cars drove up to David Clancy's place. A weak and semi-conscious Breen was carried to one car, with Seán Hogan accompanying him. The cars moved away in convoy, one decoy car with lights full on going first while the second â carrying Hogan and Breen â followed behind in darkness.
Joost Augusteijn says that: âThe Big Four left the county to recuperate in safety. They travelled throughout the south-west and ultimately ended in Dublin, where they remained until the beginning of 1920. During their absence some of the other officers kept the organisation going, but militarily nothing happened.'
Over the summer the Big Four disappeared into the landscape. They spent time in Kerry, Cork, Clare and north Tipperary. Their absence from their south-east Tipperary strongholds caused a certain slow-down in revolutionary activities there. Life became tricky for low-level Volunteers. The government was gradually adopting a get-tough stance in Tipperary.
The killing of Detective Inspector I. Hunt in Thurles on 23 June finally spurred Lord Lieutenant French into action. On 26 June, he telegraphed the British cabinet: âThe Irish government are now forced to conclude that Sinn Féiners in this district are an organised club for the murder of police and that the time has come when Sinn Féin and its organisation in this district of Tipperary must be proclaimed an illegal organisation.' An order proscribing Sinn Féin (plus the Volunteers, Cumann na mBan and the Gaelic League) in Tipperary North and South Riding was issued on 4 July.
In September, four Galbally men were arrested for killing the two Knocklong RIC men. Eventually two of them, Patrick Maher and Ned Foley, were charged and found guilty. They were hanged on 7 June 1921. Ned Foley
had
been part of the team which freed Hogan, but it is more or less definite that Maher played no part in the exercise. They remained buried in the grounds of Mountjoy Prison, their lot unresolved until the twenty-first century, when their remains were removed from Mountjoy and reinterred in their native place. Theirs were the last executions to take place before the Truce came into effect just one month later.
Having rested up and regained their health under the watchful eye of Clare IRA boss Mick Brennan, the Big Four decided to transfer operations to Dublin. Word of their exploits had spread far and wide and they were now revolutionary celebrities and inflammatory presences. Wherever they went, trouble for the British soon followed.
Their journey towards Dublin first took them to north Tipperary, where Nenagh's Seán Gaynor, the local IRA leader, got the job of looking after them: âFrank McGrath made the arrangements for their transfer from Clare in a motor-car, owned and driven by Benny Gill, Nenagh. On the outskirts of Nenagh they were transferred to a post-car (a horse and side-car) owned by Frank Flannery and were driven towards Toomevara where Jim Devany ⦠and myself met them at Ballincrotty. We were naturally thrilled to meet such famous men and when they got off the car we could see they were provided with a small arsenal.
âEach of the four carried two revolvers and they also had a box of grenades. We took them on to Whelans of Clash and all billeting arrangements and guards were made by the Toomevara Company. They remained in the district for a week and as they were then anxious to get to Dublin via Offaly, I made arrangements for an escort and went with them to Carrigahorry
,
where they spent a few days.
âIt is significant that the first attacks on the British in our area were made in the localities in which they billeted. Shortly after their departure a policeman was shot dead in Toomevara.'
The move to Dublin marked the end of the first phase of Breen and Treacy's exploits. Neither of them would ever settle back into Tipperary again. Such was their reputation and notoriety that they could no longer move freely around their home turf. Their presence in the countryside and the need to protect them put undue pressure on both the IRA and their followers.
This problem would be addressed in 1920 when the conflict moved on to its next stage; the flying columns were formed to deal with the fact that the most daring and pre-eminent Volunteers could no longer live in their own communities or work within the rigid pseudo-military structure favoured by GHQ.
His enemies suggested that after the Big Four moved to Dublin sometime in the summer of 1919, Dan Breen grew addicted to the bright city lights. Some thought it was easier said than done to drag him back to Tipperary, that a venal side of his personality had emerged. He entered the city as a star of sorts and he
did
enjoy that status. He developed a taste for gambling, drinking and hanging out in establishments of dubious repute. There was no reason why he should not have taken to city living and the amount of time he spent there caused no let up in his military and political activities.
Shortly after the Big Four arrived in town Breen had a somewhat edgy meeting with Richard Mulcahy, who clearly did not want this Tipperary team in Dublin. Not for the first time, it was suggested that all four should disappear into America.
âMulcahy advanced a certain line of argument as to why we should allow ourselves to be smuggled away to America,' said Breen. âWe told him against that, that we had no intention of leaving the country, to which he replied that, if we persisted in staying here, we would be disobeying the ruling of the general staff. He pointed out that the general staff could not allow itself to be pushed into war before it was ready to take such action itself and that our action at Soloheadbeg and Knocklong, having been taken entirely on our own responsibility, could not be stood over by GHQ. He said that, if we insisted on staying in the country and if we were arrested or killed by the enemy, GHQ could not acknowledge us as acting with authority and that we would, therefore, be branded as murderers. I said that we realised all that, but that we still intended to stay here and to carry on the fight we had begun, following which Mulcahy then made the extraordinary suggestion that, if we persisted in remaining, GHQ had authorised him to offer us a payment of £5 a week to keep us. To this offer I replied that, if we were to be considered as murderers, at least we would not justify the name of paid murderers and that our friends, who had been so kind as to keep us all this time, would no doubt continue to do so.'
Mulcahy soon had to bow to the will of others â Collins wanted the Big Four around â but at the end of his life he was still telling his son that events like Soloheadbeg had, âpushed rather turbulent spirits such as Breen and Treacy into the Dublin arena from time to time where their services were not required and their presence was often awkward.'
âTurbulent spirits' were exactly what Collins wanted for what became known as the Squad or the Twelve Apostles. This urban flying column, principally made up of working-class Dublin Volunteers, came under the control of Collins' intelligence department. The Squad's job was a specific one. They specialised in the execution of British intelligence agents and policemen who were particular diligent or arrogant in their dealings with the IRA. Mick McDonnell was their first leader, with Paddy Daly as his second-in-command; Daly later eclipsed McDonnell.
According to Joe Leonard, a close associate of Collins and one of the most active members of the Squad, this counter-intelligence cell started in September 1919 when Mulcahy summoned a number of first-rate Volunteers to a meeting at Parnell Square, Dublin. The IRA leadership was represented by Collins, Dick McKee (commandant,Dublin Brigade), Peadar Clancy (vice-commandant, Dublin Brigade) and Mick McDonnell.
Mulcahy, said Leonard, explained that the purpose of the meeting was to tell the men of the urgent need for vigorous action âagainst the British executive and political detectives who were harassing Dáil Ãireann and our headquarters staff.'
The founding members of the Squad at this meeting were asked if they were prepared to give their entire time and thought to this new job. Joe Leonard thought that the men present in Parnell Square were himself, Seán Doyle, Paddy Daly, Ben Barrett and, âthe four Tipperary men from the Knocklong job, Seán Treacy, Dan Breen, J. J. Hogan and Séamus Robinson to be attached for a time.'
âWhile we were in Dublin,' said Breen. âWe placed ourselves at the disposal of the GHQ Squad, under Mick McDonnell at the time and there were at least four or five occasions when arrangements were made to ambush the lord lieutenant, Lord French, in all of which he failed to turn up, or in some way the arrangements proved abortive.'
According to Joe Leonard: âIt very soon became apparent that if we were to survive to carry out our work we would have to become sight invisible â with only eyes, ears, legs and hands at any particular place in daylight. All the city seemed to shrink in size and detectives grew on railings, with their attendant touts and spies.'
Breen said that: âWhen I was in Dublin we lived on the Furlongs in Drumcondra, the Bolands and some others, who not alone provided us with board and lodging but clothed us, gave us pocket money and even money to buy the arms and ammunition which we were using from time to time.'
There were many red-brick middle-class city homes â full of ardent Cumann na mBan daughters â where these dashing but violent young men were welcome. There were numerous bars and private clubs where they could safely meet up with one another. One of the things which kept dragging Breen, Hogan and Treacy back to Dublin was female company. Volunteers who'd rejected their parents' political views had no problem also rejecting their traditional social values.
One of the great âfixers' in the Dublin of that time â Phil Shanahan â was Breen's most generous and dubious host. Shanahan â originally from Donohill â came in for fulsome praise in
My Fight for Irish Freedom
: âWe never wanted for anything when Phil was about.' A closer examination of Phil Shanahan's track record suggests exactly what this âanything' might have been.
Shanahan owned a pub in the Monto district of Dublin, the notorious red light area down by the docks. Because he'd been involved in the 1916 Rising, he subsequently had trouble renewing his licence. He sought legal assistance from the distinguished barrister, Tim Healy, who wrote: âI was astonished at the type of man â about forty years of age, jolly and respectable. He said he “rose out” to have a “crack at the English” and seemed not at all concerned at the question of success or failure. He was a Tipperary hurler in the old days.'
Poet and surgeon Oliver St John Gogarty suspected that Shanahan ran a brothel from his pub. In his âBureau of Military History Statement' Breen at one point mentioned some people he came across: âThey said they knew me at Phil Shanahan's place in Foley Street. This was the prostitute area of Dublin.' Elsewhere he said: âThe lady prostitutes used to pinch the guns and ammunition from the Auxiliaries or Tans at night and then leave them for us at Phil Shanahan's public house. I might add that there was no such thing as payment for these transactions and any information they had they gave us.' In
My Fight for Irish Freedom
he also said that Shanahan's was âthe rendezvous of saints and sinners'.
In 1919, Breen began commuting back and forth between Dublin and Tipperary â something he did for much of the rest of his life. In later years he travelled by car. During the Tan War he made the journey any way he could: âI'd travel by train, car, or cycle and sometimes I walked. I remember leaving Dublin one morning at 6.30 and I had a meeting in Tipperary at 6 o'clock that evening and I was the only one in time. Actually I was there ahead of time and with bad roads and carrying all my artillery too. I'd walk from Dublin to Tipperary in ten hours and fifteen or sixteen hours to make Cork from Dublin. It used to take me five days to walk to Cork across the fields.'
The absence of these enterprising young men from their homes in Tipperary hit their relatives hard. Treacy and Breen were the main providers for their respective families. Eamon O'Duibhir was summoned to Dublin in 1919 by Tom Johnson and William O'Brien from the Labour Party. Acting on behalf on the National Aid League, they offered him £200 to help meet his expenses. He turned it down but was advised by the Labour men to find out if anything useful could be done with the money back in Tipperary. He discussed it with Cumann na mBan and they pointed out that certain local families, such as Dan Breen's mother, were in a very bad way financially. National Aid gave O'Duibhir some money for these families; Mrs Breen got £80.