ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
Richard Mulcahy. Pádraig Ó Caoimh
Читать онлайн.Название Richard Mulcahy
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781788551007
Автор произведения Pádraig Ó Caoimh
Жанр Биографии и Мемуары
Издательство Ingram
Hence, whether he attended the Clontarf meeting or not, it is unlikely that Mulcahy was much bothered by the hierarchy’s attitude to the IRB and its oath. And, in a similar manner, he might have perceived his pending involvement in a physical force rebellion as a secular decision or, if at a higher level of experience, as a holy war of sorts. Of course, there is the added point that, because of his integration into Volunteering during the previous three years, but particularly during the bellicose previous two years, he must have understood and accepted that all the while he was being trained to kill. Therefore, the overall conclusion must be that his serene, ritualistic religious practices; his strong proactive sense of patriotism; his training as an enthusiastic and ‘good Volunteer’;48 and his well thought out, determined perspective on life, collectively dispelled any doubts he might have entertained about joining the rebellion.
Consequently, as arranged, he again met MacDiarmada in the office of Irish Freedom on the following Thursday. MacDiarmada told him to meet Lynch at the Keating Branch later that night. There, he received his orders to take charge of some of the Baldoyle Citizen Army and the Sutton Volunteers with the purpose of destroying the northern Howth junction telegraph and radio lines, after which, according to a letter from Willie Pearse, he should report to Pádraig Pearse at the GPO. But MacNeill’s countermanding order and the resulting confusion put an end to those orders. So, it was not until Easter Monday morning that, upon meeting MacDonagh at Liberty Hall, he learned of the new order to ‘strike at twelve’.49
CHAPTER 3
Committed
Rebellion and Reorientation, 1916–17
Shortly after noon on bank holiday Monday, 24 April 1916, James Connolly ordered a contingent of about 150 men, composed principally of Joseph Plunkett’s Kimmage group and a section of the Irish Citizen Army, to forcibly enter the GPO. Then, outside and in front of a nonplussed group of onlookers, Pádraig Pearse read aloud from a document which proclaimed the existence forthwith of an ‘Irish Republic as a Sovereign Independent State’. At the same time, other groups positioned themselves in a number of strategically important locations throughout the city, principally at the Four Courts (the First Battalion under Ned Daly), Jacob’s Biscuit Factory (most of the Second Battalion under Thomas MacDonagh), Boland’s Mills (the Third Battalion under Eamon de Valera) and the South Dublin Union Workhouse (the Fourth Battalion under Éamonn Ceannt).1
Plunkett’s and Connolly’s shared aspiration2 was that those positions, once fortified, would defensively hold out for as long as possible.3 Therefore, by the time of Pearse’s order of unconditional surrender at 3.45 pm on Saturday, 29 April, the ensuing amount of physical destruction was immense. So also were the number of injuries and deaths, namely two and a half thousand of the former and over five hundred of the latter, the most prominent of which were those fifteen insurgents who were executed by firing squad during the period, 3–12 May.4
For his part, on Easter Monday, after he, Paddy Grant and Tom Maxwell had cut the telegraph and telephone lines at Howth, Mulcahy was meant to proceed back into the city and join up with some of his ‘C’ Company colleagues at the GPO. However, by then the city had been encircled by the military. This effectively meant that a day was wasted wandering around in north county Dublin before he and his two fellow travellers fortuitously bumped into Thomas Ashe and the Fingal Brigade. Ashe immediately appointed Mulcahy as his second in command.5 Then, during the next two days, following upon Connolly’s order to divert enemy attention away from the city, Ashe, Mulcahy and their 45-man column, all mounted on bicycles, made as much of a nuisance of themselves as possible by raiding Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC) barracks and disrupting communication lines. But it was not until Friday morning that they saw serious action for the first time, when they initiated a guerrilla-like attack on Ashbourne’s RIC barracks in County Meath, resulting in the deaths of eight RIC officers and two Volunteers.6
Mulcahy came to the fore during that unrelenting, five-and-a-half-hour struggle: ‘it was soon apparent to everyone that his was the mind necessary to plan and direct operations; cool, clear-minded and practical, and with a personality and tact that enabled him virtually to control the situation without in any way undermining Ashe’s prestige as the commander.’7 Equally, he displayed a range of field officer leadership skills, some of which were the direct result of MacDonagh’s training courses, e.g. using the lie of the land to one’s best advantage; deploying outflanking movements; moving about in order to organise and give confidence to his men; and undermining the morale of the enemy: ‘I could hear Mulcahy’s voice in the intermittent fire. “Will you surrender [?] By … [sic] if you don’t we will give you a dog’s death”.’8
Understandably, then, two days later, after such a successful engagement, Ashe, Mulcahy and the depleted Fingal Brigade were most reluctant to give up their arms without first ascertaining the bona fides of Pearse’s surrender order. On that account, with RIC Sergeant Reilly being held hostage by way of security9 and a safe passage guaranteed, Mulcahy was appointed by Ashe to personally get the news from Pearse, who at that stage was incarcerated in Arbour Hill prison.10 On Mulcahy’s return, Ashe addressed the men, emphasising that ‘We came out under Pearse as soldiers and it is our duty to surrender on his orders.’11
Approximately 1,800 Volunteers obeyed their superior officers in the same manner as Mulcahy and the Fingal Brigade did. But a nationwide sweep of what the authorities considered were Sinn Féin sympathisers added significantly to the overall figure of men and women arrested. For example, during the period 1 May–3 July, 3,226 men and women, who hailed principally from the metropolitan area and the counties of Cork, Kerry, Limerick, Galway and Wexford, were inspected in the vast parade ground of Richmond barracks and were then either retained therein or were dispersed variously to Kilmainham jail, the Royal Showgrounds, Ship Street Barracks, Arbour Hill or to the hospital wing of Dublin Castle. (Women were initially confined in Ship Street but were moved to Kilmainham later.)
By the end of the process, 171 individuals were tried, ninety death sentences were passed and fifteen were carried out, all according to the tenets of active service Field General Court Martial (in camera and without legal representation and sworn statements) according to the extensive emergency powers of the Defence of the Realm Act (DORA), 25 November 1914. In addition, 1,867 others, having been deported in cattle boats from the North Wall, were held captive in a number of English prisons, especially the prisons of Knutsford, Lewis, Pentonville, Reading and Stafford, along with the detention centre of Frongoch in north Wales.
As well as a lack of food, water and opportunities for proper sleep, the unusually hot weather for that time of year caused generalised fatigue and disorientation among the detainees in Richmond Barracks. Furthermore, given the bandaged, dusty and dishevelled state of many of the detainees, as well as the crush of humanity, the military authorities, proceeding with urgency, found it difficult to do their job properly, other than by the general cooperation of their charges, the active assistance of certain soldiers, the evidence of the ‘G’ division detectives and the happenstance of Volunteer livery and paper evidence. For instance, one person the authorities were interested in finding was Mulcahy. However, as luck would have it, the RIC driver who brought him to see Pearse at Arbour Hill made a search but failed to identify him. Also, the ‘G’ men, who made up the plain-clothed detective section of the Dublin Metropolitan Police (DMP) were far less able to cope by the time it came to assessing those who, like the Fingal Brigade, were among the last to arrive.12
Eventually, on 2 May, Mulcahy and 307 other detainees were moved on to cattle boats destined for Knutsford Prison.13 At least the cover of night gave them the benefit of avoiding the hostile attention of the soldiers’ wives living close to Richmond Barracks.14 All the same, should others have observed them, the likelihood is that they would not have approved, because, while some parts of the city were enthusiastic, most were not, regarding the insurrection as an ‘insane and criminal’ act.15 However, the executions would dramatically change everything within a fortnight: ‘They [the leaders] believed in Ireland. They believed that she would never prosper under British rule … they fought with magnificent courage … it is necessary to point out their