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William Henry has trawled the archives to produce this meticulous account of the many raids, ambushes, murders and reprisals that took place in the 1919-21 period, and of those who were involved. He details the activities of the dreaded Black and Tans, and the role played by the RIC and the mainstream British Army who were stationed in the county. He also looks at how everyday life was affected by the ongoing war and how the attitude of the people changed as the brutality of the Tans intensified. He details hunger strikes in Galway jail and the general strike in the city that resulted as well as the boycotts of the british forces throughout the county. With fascinating and sometimes horrific details he brings the time to life.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012
MERCIER PRESS
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© William Henry, 2012
© Preface: Joe Connolly, 2012
ISBN: 978 1 78117 046 5
Epub ISBN: 978 1 78117 162 2
Mobi ISBN: 978 1 78117 163 9
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
For Peg Broderick and Uncle Ollie,
and Grandad William Henry
Contents
Acknowledgements
Preface
Introduction
1. Rebellion in Galway
2. Apostles of Freedom
3. Isolation and Danger
4. Terrorising the Terrorists
5. The Arrival of the Black and Tans
6. Galway Hunger Strike
7. Reprisals against Tuam
8. The Merlin Park Ambush and Reprisal
9. Lancers Targeted
10. Night of Terror
11. Funerals and Inquests
12. Terror Stalks the Streets
13. Extended Tan Raids
14. Singled Out for Murder
15. Murder at Long Walk
16. Intelligence Operations
17. The Murder of Fr Griffin
18. Murder of the Loughnane Brothers
19. Dublin Shootings and Aran Island Raids
20. Ambush and Aftermath
21. Clifden Attacked
22. Terror on Both Sides
23. Terror in the Terrace
24. Final Actions
25. The Dawn of Freedom
Epilogue
Appendix: Galway Roll of Honour
Notes
Bibliography
Thanks to the following people: my wife Noreen, sons Patrick and David, and daughter Lisa. Grateful appreciation to the National Library of Ireland, Dublin; the staff of the James Hardiman Library, NUIG: Michael Faherty, Marie Boran, Liam Frehan, Michael O’Connor, Geraldine Curtain, Anne Mitchell; County Galway Library and staff at Island House: Maureen Moran and Mary Kavanagh. Thanks to Tom Small, Tom Joe Furey, Angela O’Toole, David Courtney and the late Paddy O’Neill. To all in the media: Galway Bay FM, RTÉ Raidió na Gaeltachta, Connacht Tribune, The Tuam Herald, Galway Advertiser and Galway Independent, including those who gave excellent publicity to this project; and to Declan Dooley, Hilary Martyn, Brendan Carroll, Dave Hickey, Joe O’Shaughnessy, Ronnie O’Gorman, Dickie Byrne, Éamonn Howley, Mark Kennedy, Tom Kenny, Keith Finnegan, Tom Gilmore, Jim Carney, Mary Conroy, Peadar O’Dowd, Des Kelly, Máirtin Tom Sheáinin, Richard ‘Dick’ O’Hanlon, William O’Hanlon, Mary MacDonnell, John Quinn, Alfie MacNamara, Seathran Powell, Padraic Walsh, Jonathan Margetts, Tommy Holahan, Martin Concannon, Daniel Callaghan and Sister de Lourdes Fahy.
Special thanks also to Anne Maria Furey, Kieran Hoare, Marita Silke, Laura Walsh, James Casserly, Bob and Mary Waller, and Bill and Alice Scanlan for proofreading my work and making many valuable suggestions. I am again deeply indebted to a very special friend, Jacqueline O’Brien, who has, as always, given so generously of her time, researching, proofreading and giving expert advice, encouragement and support throughout this project.
The Black and Tans is a name that even today can still evoke anger and disgust in many people because of the way that group treated the Irish during their short stay here in the early 1920s. Imagine the uproar there would be today if the British government hired drunken hooligans, gave them uniforms and guns, and sent them to Ireland to fight the natives. The Black and Tans in their day were ill-disciplined thugs in uniform, paid 10 shillings a day to make Ireland a ‘hell for the rebels’. Blood for Blood paints a vivid picture of the fearful times that the people of Galway were forced to endure under the Black and Tan regime.
The government forces in Ireland during the War of Independence were four pronged: not only had they the trained regular army and police, but they also employed the war-hardened Auxiliaries and the ill-disciplined rabble in the Black and Tans. Against them stood the rebels of Galway, who had a burning fervour to fight the last great fight for Irish freedom after 800 years of domination. And fight they did, day and night, though often badly armed and trying to hold down a job to provide some sort of income for themselves and their families.
In spite of the huge odds stacked against these rebels, and the certainty of a savage punishment or death if the Tans got their hands on them, one must ask why they fought as they did. Why for instance would Michael Walsh of the Old Malt House in High Street in Galway, a married father with eight children, who had every reason in the world to take a back seat, still play an active part in the War of Independence? The description of the Tans marching Michael Walsh through the streets of Galway before murdering him on the Long Walk is surely one of the most poignant and heart-rending stories in this book.
There is a saying in Irish ‘is fearr beannacht amháin i do bheo ná dhá bheannacht déag i do bhás’ (it is better to get one blessing while you’re alive than twelve blessings after you’ve died). Our beannacht amháin goes to William Henry for telling this remarkable story of the remarkable men and women of Galway who are featured in this book. ‘Why?’ has a straightforward answer – they were prepared to pay any sacrifice, including the ultimate one that many of them did, because of their love for Ireland. The sacrifices of these brave people deserve to be remembered and great credit is due to William Henry for the precise and vivid manner in which he tells their story.
The noble story of this fight for Irish freedom is personal even today for lots of people. My own father Pat, now in his mid-nineties, has a memory of the Tans putting a bullet through the thatched roof of his home in Tír an Fhia, Leitir Mór, while they were searching for a local activist, Joe Lee. In my own home parish of Castlegar, described by William Henry in this book as ‘a hotbed of republican activity at the time’, I was very familiar as a youngster with some of the rebels who were active during the War of Independence. Families throughout Galway must be particularly proud of their loved ones who took part, many of whom suffered ongoing health issues due to the hardships they suffered during the struggle. It was the last great fight for Irish freedom, at least for the twenty-six counties that now make up the Republic. Despite troubled times and all that we have presently, it is still our country. Contrast that to the Welsh and the Scots, who will roar themselves hoarse in their efforts to beat the Sassenachs in a rugby international on Saturday, and then on Monday return themselves to be governed again from London.
We humbly give the dhá bheannacht déag to those men and women who fearlessly waved the maroon and white, as well as the tricolour, in their fight for Ireland’s freedom. As you will read in this fine book, you will see that we owe them a lot.
Joe Connolly, 2012
One could consider many reasons for the rise of nationalism and republican ideals in late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Ireland, but memories of the Great Famine of 1845–50 and its aftermath of evictions and poverty were certainly some of the crucial ones. The last decades of the nineteenth century saw the birth of the Land League, the Gaelic League, the Gaelic Athletic Association and other such organisations, giving people hope of gaining control over the land they worked and a pride in their Irish heritage. It also gave rise to a generation of Irish people with a strong determination to effect change, even if that meant bloodshed.
When one looks at the 1916 rebellion, Galway was one of the few places outside Dublin that came out in force in support of the rebel cause. This momentous occasion paved the way for the War of Independence, locally known as the Black and Tan War, and those who fought in the latter conflict got a second chance to fight for the same cause, although using methods very different from those employed during the Easter rebellion. The War of Independence was fought not as a pitched battle, but mainly as a guerrilla war.
The story of Galway’s War of Independence has not been fully told before. Those who fought risked all against the Black and Tans and their colleagues, the Auxiliaries, who were ruthless in their attempts to defeat the IRA and used every means to do so, including murder. In the writing of this book I have used excerpts from the witness statements of those Irish men and women who fought this brutal campaign, as well as contemporary newspaper accounts from those critical years. I also interviewed family members of those who fought and checked many local histories and documents to ensure that all avenues of research were covered in my recording of this important period of history.
Blood for Blood opens with the Galway Volunteers marching out in 1916 to make their stand for Ireland. The story unfolds chronologically, and the reader can see the terrifying situation develop and deteriorate into mayhem and murder, where even pregnant mothers and priests were attacked. I also look at the isolation of, and dangerous situations experienced by, members of the domestic police force, the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC), as barracks after barracks was attacked. The arrival of the Black and Tans to reinforce policing numbers led to a huge upsurge in violence. As this force began its campaign to control the streets, almost the entire population lived in terror as its members exploited their power, seeking out victims, raiding and plundering.
Ambush was the main method used by the IRA to fight back against the RIC and Tans. However, this brought about even more fear among the general public as the Tans and Auxiliaries sought revenge through bloody reprisals. September 1920 saw a real escalation of violence in Galway, which continued without mercy until the signing of the Truce, almost a year later. During this period many local people were killed, some in the streets, others shot in their homes. A legacy of hate developed, which has left bitter memories.
Outlying towns and villages were not spared either: Oranmore, Tuam, Ardrahan, Headford and Clifden felt the full impact of Tan and Auxiliary violence. These areas came under brutal attack and many homes and businesses were burned and destroyed. People were forced to flee their homes, in many cases without their belongings, leaving them almost destitute.
This book also tells the story of those Galway people singled out for murder in rural and urban areas. It was a time of little trust in strangers; suspicion was part of everyday life. The intelligence network of the IRA is examined and examples of how informers were caught and severely dealt with are described.
William Henry
Just over a week before the 1916 Easter Rising, Liam Mellows arrived back in Ireland. Mellows had been born in 1892 in Lancashire, where his father, a British soldier, was stationed. The family moved to Dublin while Mellows was still a child. As a young man, he became involved in a number of Irish nationalist organisations and in 1913 he joined the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB), a secretive republican organisation that was determined to gain independence from British rule using any means necessary. Mellows was also involved in the Irish Volunteers, which was set up in November 1913 as a paramilitary nationalist force originally formed to reinforce the Irish demand for Home Rule. The following year Mellows was sent to south Galway to take command of and organise the Volunteers there.
In March 1916 Mellows was arrested in Athenry and was imprisoned in Arbour Hill Barracks while awaiting deportation to England. The authorities arranged to have Mellows placed with relatives in Leek, Staffordshire. However, he was vital to the Galway rebellion, and so the IRB, with the help of his mother who visited him regularly, made sure they were aware of his location at all times. Despite the fact that his movements were seriously restricted and he was kept under constant surveillance, a plan involving his brother, Barney, who bore a striking resemblance to him, was devised to free Mellows. When Barney Mellows reached the house where his brother was staying, both men retired to one of the bedrooms, where they immediately switched clothes and Liam left in the guise of his brother. In the pocket of the coat, Mellows found a sailing ticket for Ireland, plus detailed instructions on what to do upon arrival in Dublin.
Shortly after arriving in the capital, Mellows went to the home of the Pearse family where he was to stay. By the end of Holy Week he had returned to County Galway and set about finalising the plans for the rebellion due to take place on Easter Sunday. During that week the Galway Volunteer officers called a meeting to discuss their role in the coming rebellion. These men included Éamonn Corbett, Michael Joseph Howley (always known as Joe), Padraic Fahy, Matthew Neilan and their commanding officer, Larry Lardner from Athenry. It was decided at this meeting that Lardner would travel to Dublin to clarify instructions for the rebellion. Unfortunately, when he arrived in the capital he could not locate Patrick Pearse or Eoin MacNeill, leader of the Irish Volunteers. He did meet Bulmer Hobson, who instructed him not to obey any orders unless they were signed by MacNeill. Lardner returned to Galway with these orders.
Meanwhile, Éamonn Ceannt had sent a dispatch to Lardner with instructions for the planned rebellion. The messenger was unable to locate Lardner and instead gave the orders to Éamonn Corbett: ‘Collect the Premiums 7 p.m. Sunday – P. H. Pearse’.1 This was the agreed code to signal that the rebellion would go ahead. However, the following day Lardner received orders from MacNeill suspending manoeuvres. An emergency meeting was held at the home of prominent nationalist George Nicholas in Galway city. Although Mellows was not mentioned as having attended this meeting, it was likely he was there given his rank as senior officer. It was decided to proceed with preparations for action while sending another messenger to Dublin to clarify the conflicting orders. This messenger was unsuccessful in doing so.
On Easter Sunday, after learning of the sinking of the Aud, which was carrying arms to be used in the rebellion, MacNeill published orders in the Sunday Independent calling off all Volunteer action on that day. Mellows learned of the orders and reluctantly prepared to cancel the rebellion. The following day Volunteers in Athenry received a dispatch from Dublin: ‘We are out from twelve o’clock today. Issue your orders without delay. – P.H.P.’2 There was still some doubt and uncertainty among the men, but later that afternoon the Dublin train brought news of the outbreak of rebellion in the capital. Dispatches were immediately issued to the South Galway Volunteers and about 500 badly armed men joined the rebellion.
In Oranmore Volunteers under the command of Captain Joe Howley began placing explosives under the bridge leading into the village and the RIC evacuated the barracks there. On the arrival of British troops and police reinforcements from Renmore Barracks and Galway city, shots were exchanged and the rebels were forced to withdraw. Mellows, who had by this point arrived at Oranmore, provided covering fire for Joe Howley and his men, and during the retreat several policemen were wounded. According to the Galway correspondent for the Connacht Tribune, these Volunteers actually came within three miles of the city on Tuesday, but had to retreat because of shellfire from naval gun ships in Galway Bay.3
In Castlegar the Volunteers had also mobilised, under Captain Brian Molloy. Other senior members of the Castlegar unit included Michael Newell and Tom Ruane. The plan was to link up with the Claregalway Company, then to go to Lydican, Loughgeorge and Kilcon and force the police to surrender. In preparation for the rebellion, Michael Newell, a blacksmith, had been manufacturing pike heads during the weeks leading up to the Rising and just a week before the rebellion he was almost arrested when police arrived at his forge. He managed to hide the incriminating evidence, but was warned that he would be charged under the Defence of the Realm Act if caught with weapons of any kind. Nevertheless, he resumed his work with such vigour that he was in a position to supply pike heads to the Spiddal company as well as his own.
On Easter Monday the Castlegar Company collected additional shotguns from farmers around the district. At about 4 p.m. on Tuesday, Brian Molloy received orders from Mellows to mobilise, as the Rising was already under way. The Castlegar men reacted immediately and marched to Carnmore crossroads to link up with the Claregalway Company. The men then went towards Oranmore to join forces with the main Volunteer army. On the way they received information that Mellows and his men had moved to Athenry. Rather than have all the men march there, Molloy sent Lieutenant Thomas Newell (always known as Sweeney), a brother of Michael, to Athenry to make contact with Mellows and await new orders. Molloy meanwhile returned to Carnmore and billeted his men in local farmhouses and barns.
The next afternoon Molloy received instructions to march to link up with the Volunteers from Athenry. As they proceeded, Michael Newell noticed a girl on a hill in the distance waving a white apron. The girl was Sheila (Bina) King, and she was trying to warn the men of impending danger – a large force of police, a convoy of thirteen cars, was heading in their direction. Molloy ordered his men to take cover behind some field boundary walls and then, as the police were within striking distance, the rebels opened fire.
The police convoy halted about 100 yards from the rebel position. There were possibly six policemen to each car and they began advancing towards the Volunteers, firing as they went. The fire was intense and bullets continuously clipped the top of the wall, so the Volunteers found it difficult to return fire. When the police reached the crossroads, they stopped, and Constable P. Whelan shouted at the Volunteers to surrender, saying that he knew who they were. He was immediately shot dead and the police inspector, who was just behind him, was wounded. The police reacted by trying to outflank the rebels, but were beaten back and more men were wounded. They then rushed back to their vehicles and drove off in the direction of Oranmore.
Once the immediate danger had passed, Molloy ordered his men to fall in and they continued their march to rebel headquarters, which had been set up in the agricultural college and model farm near Athenry. As they came close to their destination, they again had to take cover from a large force of police who were firing at the college from the railway bridge. This attack was beaten off and the Castlegar and Claregalway companies entered the rebel stronghold, which was under the command of Larry Lardner. In Athenry itself, the police were virtual prisoners in their barracks. Mellows’ force at this point was made up of about 500 men representing many areas, including Oranmore, Maree, Clarenbridge, Craughwell, Castlegar, Claregalway, Cregmore and Derrydonnell. Their munitions consisted of 25 rifles, 350 shotguns and an assortment of small arms.
Although most of the country was against the rebellion, this does not seem to have been the case in the rebel-held areas of south Galway, where the local population welcomed those taking part. The absence of landlords, land agents and armed police, who were afraid to venture into areas of rebel activity, had given the locals their first glimpse of a free society. Farmers’ wives and daughters supplied the Volunteers with freshly baked bread, washed down with milk, and some were given meals in farmhouses.
On Wednesday evening the Volunteers at Athenry moved to Moyode Castle, the unoccupied home of the Persse family, and Mellows made it his headquarters. By now British troops and marines had landed at Galway docks and were preparing for action against the rebels. Several Volunteer officers in Galway city, among them George Nicholas, were arrested and taken on board one of the warships.
At Moyode animals were slaughtered as required and the women of the Republican women’s paramilitary organisation, Cumann na mBan, acted as cooks. In the distance, the sound of naval artillery fire could be heard coming from the direction of Galway Bay. On Thursday evening the Volunteers held a meeting and it was decided to disband the unarmed men, thus reducing the force to about 400. Although he had not seen any real action, Mellows said that he was determined to fight to the last man if necessary. However, when they became aware that police from the northern counties were now arriving in County Galway and arresting Volunteers who were making their way home, the majority of his officers argued in favour of disbanding.
On Friday evening the remainder of the Volunteers, about 150, moved south until they reached a large and unoccupied mansion at Limepark and set up another headquarters. A local priest, Fr Thomas Fahy, brought news that British troops were on the move from Athlone and Ballinasloe, sweeping the countryside towards Galway. He also informed them that the rebellion in Dublin was collapsing. After hearing this news, Mellows reluctantly disbanded the Volunteers. Most returned to their homes, but three of the men, Frank Hynes, Peadar Howley and Ailbhe Ó Monacháin (Alf Monahan), chose to remain with Mellows and became fugitives with him. Having taken shelter in a number of locations in the mountains and wooded areas, they eventually found a safe refuge at Tulla, just south of Kinvara.
Mellows remained there for four months, during which time he visited Kinvara, where he took shelter in the Convent of Mercy of St Joseph. The authorities were obviously informed of the visit, because they conducted a search. When Fr Thomas Burke, the local parish priest, was informed of these actions, he was outraged and wrote a letter of protest to General Sir John Maxwell, the senior British officer in Dublin. In his reply, Maxwell stated that the local police sergeant had been informed through an anonymous letter that Mellows was hiding in the convent. He went on to say that the sergeant felt it was his duty to capture Mellows and that, as far as he was concerned, the search was ‘carried out with perfect decorum’. After evading capture for a number of months, Mellows made his way to Liverpool, and from there managed to secure a passage on board a steamer bound for America.
Following the surrender, Captain Brian Molloy and Michael Newell also went on the run, but were later captured. Molloy was sentenced to ten years’ penal servitude for his part in the Rising; however, he was released in June 1917. A short time later, he was back in charge of the Castlegar Company, with Sweeney Newell as his first lieutenant. Michael Newell was sent to Frongoch and was later transferred to Wormwood Scrubs. He appeared before the Sankey Commission and was questioned regarding his movements on the day Constable Whelan was shot dead. He was then informed that smoke had been seen coming out of his rifle. He admitted being there that day, but stated that he was armed with a shotgun. Following the inquiry Newell was returned to Frongoch and was released on Christmas Eve 1916.
Most of the men involved in the Easter rebellion continued their involvement in the Volunteers and would go on to play their part in the War of Independence. In preparation for renewed hostilities, Seamus Murphy, a senior Irish Volunteer activist from Dublin, arrived in Galway during the spring of 1918 to form the Galway Brigade and begin serious military training. He acted as the brigade’s officer commanding (OC) and used the grounds of Ballybrit racecourse to put his men through their paces. By the start of 1919 their presence there was becoming well known throughout Galway and as an act of defiance the Volunteers mounted tricolour flags on all the poles in the racecourse grounds the night before the Galway races later that year. This grabbed the attention of the thousands of people arriving for the race meeting and gave the police additional duties to perform that day, as the flags had to be taken down.
While the training was going well, the Volunteers were still badly equipped for the inevitable clash with British forces, so they began raiding the houses of local gentry in a bid to secure arms. Information gathering about the enemy was also critical and members of the Castlegar unit, including Michael and Sweeney Newell and Joseph Donnellan, were ordered to hold up mail cars on their way from Galway and seize any British mail. This was successful and, as much of the information gathering was done by Michael Newell, he was appointed battalion intelligence officer.4
In late January 1919 two events occurred which would mark the start of the renewed fight for independence in Ireland.
By the start of 1919 it had become clear that the British government was not going to revisit its promise of introducing Home Rule to Ireland. Despite the passing of the Third Home Rule Bill in 1914, its implementation was put off when war broke out and it was never revived. Ireland was also excluded from the Paris Peace Conference, the meeting of the Allied victors after the First World War, which was to outline peace terms for the defeated countries and redraw the map of Europe with new borders and countries. Despite an estimated 49,400 Irishmen giving their lives for a fight that they had been told was in the cause of the freedom of small nations, Ireland herself seemed to have gained little.1
In response, on 21 January 1919, Ireland’s first Dáil Éireann convened in the Mansion House in Dublin and unanimously adopted the Declaration of Irish Independence. Meanwhile, in a little place called Soloheadbeg in County Tipperary, members of the Third Tipperary Brigade of the Irish Volunteers embarked on a more violent start to the campaign to secure Irish independence. On that same day a group of men from the Third Tipperary, led by Seán Treacy, Dan Breen and Seamus Robinson, planned to seize a cartload of explosives destined for a nearby quarry. The two men transporting the explosives were being escorted by two members of the RIC, Constables James McDonnell and Patrick O’Connell. When the group was ambushed by the republicans, the two policemen were shot dead. These were the first shots fired at British forces in Ireland since 1916 and they were also the first shots of the War of Independence.2
The violence quickly spread throughout the country and it was obvious that Galway would be seriously affected, considering that over 500 men had turned out for the rebellion in 1916. Most of these men had been interned in Britain alongside others from all over the country. The British had in a sense contributed to their own demise in Ireland, not simply by arresting a large number of innocent men, but also by placing Volunteers from various regions in the same prison camps, thus introducing them to each other. Contact details were exchanged and, once they were released, a more organised Volunteer movement emerged.
The war that these men embarked upon in 1919 was totally different from the 1916 rebellion: it would be fought using guerrilla tactics. These proved remarkably effective and the British military was forced to intensify its efforts in an attempt to root out the rebels. From January 1919 to March 1920 there were over 20,000 military raids on houses throughout the country, resulting in almost 400 arrests. Proclamations were also introduced to suppress meetings and gatherings. Despite this, republican attacks became more frequent, while in Dublin, Michael Collins, who had been appointed minister for finance in the Dáil, was organising a centralised intelligence system which would provide a vital resource in the fight against the British.3
While the Irish had failed to gain representation at the Paris Peace Conference, there were many delegates attending who had a serious interest in Irish affairs. In May 1919 the American envoys to the Paris Peace Conference visited Galway. They were referred to by the media as ‘Apostles of Freedom’. The Commissioners, Michael Ryan and Frank Walsh, and the Governor of Illinois, Edward Dunne, arrived by train. The Galway Express gave a detailed and colourful description of their visit. The train had stopped at each station on its journey to Galway, where the envoys had taken the time to address the crowds. Michael Ryan spoke at Athenry, telling the people to continue the glorious fight and urging them to be firm in their beliefs, saying that millions of people were behind them now, more so than ever before in Irish history. He told them not to expect too much too soon, but ultimate victory was certain – Ireland would be a nation and a Republic. There was an overwhelming response when he finished speaking.
When the party arrived in Galway the cheers and applause drowned out the sound of the welcoming St Patrick’s Band assembled in the station. There was a distinguished gathering on the platform of leading clergy, university men, local and national politicians and republican leaders. These included Dáil Éireann and cabinet ministers William Cosgrave, Richard Mulcahy, Eoin MacNeill and many more. The area in front of the Railway Hotel at Eyre Square was cordoned off by members of the Irish Volunteers, who also formed a guard of honour. The president of the Galway branch of Sinn Féin, L. E. O’Dea, extended a warm welcome to the visitors on behalf of the people. When he had finished speaking, Michael Ryan was invited to take the stand. He thanked the people of Galway for such an enormous reception and said that since the train had crossed the Shannon every Connacht hill had been alive with huge fires of welcome. These, he said, were a symbol of the old fires of freedom, fires of victory which had now been relit. There was an immediate response from the crowd of cheering and applause, which stopped him momentarily from speaking.
When the crowd fell silent, Ryan reminded them that there were over twenty million of their ‘kindred’ who found homes in the ‘Great Republic to the West’ – this set the crowd off again. When he had regained their attention, he evoked the principles of the Great War, saying, ‘This was a people’s war, a war waged not for conquest, not for trade, not for vengeance, but in order that the blessings and principles of democracy might be extended to all the peoples of the world.’ Before the crowd could react, Ryan called out that thousands of Irishmen had laid down their lives in the belief that the promise of freedom would be honoured once the war had ended. ‘These men were lied to,’ he shouted. ‘Ireland was not even considered when all the countries of Europe were sitting at the table of freedom in Paris.’ Speaking of the Irish in the United States, he said that their hearts were saddened that the people of Ireland had the chalice of liberty at her lips, yet she was denied the ‘drink of freedom’. He continued, ‘Your oppressor had the ears of the world, and you were muzzled … Fellow-men this Irish cause of yours is to the forefront of the world’s conflict.’
Ryan then told those gathered that 5,132 delegates had recently met in the city of Philadelphia and adopted a motion put forward by the leader of the Catholic Church in America supporting the Irish people’s age-old struggle for liberty. Jews, Methodists, those who worshipped at many different altars, also endorsed this motion. He reminded them of the suffering of the Irish people during the famine, incorrectly quoting the supposed comment of TheTimes of London about the demise of the Irish: ‘Thank God the Celts are going.’ (No such comment appeared in TheTimes during the famine.) He also reminded the crowd that Irishmen had been fighting against oppression in Connacht for centuries and thousands had died because of English tyranny. He said that God would never have allowed the Irish people to endure the scaffold, dungeon, exile and famine, ‘if He did not mean to give to some generation of our race the dazzling vision of Ireland a Nation’. Ryan ended by saying that the day of glory – the cause for which soldiers had died, poets had sung and people had prayed – was coming, ‘the day was close when Ireland would be a Nation once again’.
Fr O’Flanagan, one of the organising committee, was then introduced to the crowd. He began, ‘Fellow citizens of the Irish Republic …’, but before he could continue the crowd erupted with cheers of support on hearing these words. When the applauding and shouting had died down, he welcomed the envoys from the United States, whom he said were representing some twenty million Irish-Americans. He went on to speak about how America had entered the Great War in support of the freedom of small nations, not to prop up empires. Lies, he said, were perpetrated on the small countries of Europe to draw them into a struggle between two empires, and it was time now to right the wrongs. The problem now faced, O’Flanagan continued, had arisen because some Irish people had allowed themselves to fall away from the ideals of a free Irish nation: ‘The talk about Home Rule, Repeal of the Union, the Colonial Home Rule, and such other mockeries of national liberty, blinded us from the real dazzling vision of a free and independent Ireland … The great opportunity that came to us with the big European war went by, and the Irish people did not awaken sufficiently to seize the opportunity.’ He reminded those gathered of past generations who had to fight in darker days and said that there was much pride in the fact that the west was now awake, Ireland was awake and the flag of Ireland was nailed to the mast, and that the Irish were free in soul if not in body. He said that he truly believed that it would not be very long before the Irish Republican flag would fly without rival from one end of the country to the other. These comments were met with a huge response of cheering and continued applause.