Michael Collins and the Women Who Spied For Ireland (18 page)

Collins now had a mammoth task to restore order. He donned his military uniform and moved into quarters at Portobello Barracks.

By midnight he was ‘absolutely tired and worn out after a terrible day,' he wrote in a note to Kitty. ‘And I'm longing to see you and everything and all my love and, wherever I may be for the next week, I'll do my very best to wire or write. And God be with you.'
19

Kitty saw Michael's appointment in the paper, and desperation is evident in the words she wrote: ‘You are C. in Chief now. What does this mean? More trouble I suppose. Will it ever end?'
20

He was asking himself the same question but to get the country back to stability became his principal aim. He studied army models, took advice, made plans on how a disciplined army should be structured. The organisation of payment, food supplies, clothing, arms to scattered groups of soldiers constantly on the move was a gigantic task. Tirelessly, he worked into the night hours at his Portobello desk; there are notes written at midnight and past and again at 4 or 5 in the morning. His notebook of those July days bears witness to the urgency with which he tackled most tasks and the number of items that crowded upon him. There were prison accommodation, medical service, engineering, press data, intelligence lists and a multitude of other concerns.
21

Surrounded by war, buildings crumbling, army clashes, people being killed and injured, he wrote to Kitty, ‘I have every faith in things coming right. Could not have written yesterday. Fondest love'.
22

Collins soon discovered the sadness of civil war. Lifelong friends were becoming bitter enemies; brothers and neighbours were taking opposite sides. It wounded him when Harry Boland turned his back on him. Harry had taken a staff position in the South Dublin Brigade, but soon fled out to the Dublin hills where he wrote on 13 July to Joe McGarrity: ‘It may very well be that I shall fall in this awful conflict ... I am certain we cannot be defeated even if Collins and his British Guns succeed in garrisoning every town in Ireland'.
23

In a further note to McGarrity on 25 July Harry asked, ‘Can you imagine, me on the run from Mick Collins?'
24

On 28 July Mick wrote a heartfelt letter to Harry:

Harry – It has come to this! Of all things it has come to this.

It is in my power to arrest you and destroy you. This I cannot do. If you will think over the influence which has dominated you it should change your ideal.

You are walking under false colours. If no words of mine will change your attitude then you are beyond all hope – my hope.
25

Mick believed that Harry had been influenced by de Valera, Brugha and Stack. On the night of 30 July, Harry dined in Jammet's Restaurant in Nassau Street with Anna Fitzsimons, who had been one of Mick's secretaries during a period prior to the Treaty. He had got Mick's letter, and was keenly aware of the changed circumstances. At one point during dinner Harry urged Anna to ‘eat well,' adding, ‘because it may be your last meal with me'.

That night as Harry and Joe Griffin were going to bed in the Grand Hotel in Skerries, soldiers came on a raid. Harry was injured in the stomach. He was taken to Skerries Barracks and held for four hours then moved to Portobello Barracks and on to St Vincent's Hospital.
26

When Mick heard the news, he asked the director of intelligence to place a guard on St Vincent's Hospital, ‘and to make a report on the exact condition of Mr Harry Boland' and to find out ‘whether he has been operated on and what the doctors think of his condition'.
27

Harry died on 2 August. Mick was devastated, and burst into Fionán Lynch's room in a fit of uncontrolled grief. Next day he wrote to Kitty:

Last night I passed St Vincent's Hospital and saw a small crowd outside. My mind went in to him lying dead there and I thought of the times together, and, whatever good there is in any wish of mine, he certainly had it. Although the gap of 8 or 9 months was not forgotten – of course no one can ever forget it – I only thought of him with the friendship of the days of 1918 and 1919 ... I'd send a wreath but I suppose they'd return it torn up.
28

Kitty, in her response to the death of ‘poor Harry', wrote:

Oh! vain is the strength of man. I realise I have lost a good friend in Harry – and no matter what, I'll always believe in his genuineness, that I was the one and only. I think you have also lost a friend. I am sure you are sorry after him. ... Always when H. was saying good-bye, he'd say ‘don't worry, Kitty, Mick will be all right' ... He had my rosary beads: I have his ... Ever yours, Kitty.
29

Mick wanted to meet Kitty for dinner, but being tied up ‘in a million things' he had asked Gearóid Mac Canainn at Government Buildings to send her a wire. Harry was still on his mind. Harry's death confirmed for him the devastation of war and the inescapable price in human misery. Obviously he and Kitty had been speaking about Harry during dinner. Afterwards he wanted to clarify his position for her. He did not want any misunderstanding, so he put his thoughts on paper that night:

... You will not misunderstand anything you have heard me say about poor H. You'll also appreciate my feelings about the splendid men we have lost on our side, and the losses they are and the bitterness they cause, and the anguish. There is no one who feels it all more than I do.

My condemnation is all for those who would put themselves up as paragons of Irish Nationality, and all the others as being not worthy of concern. May God bless you always.

Fondest love, Mícheál.
30

Kitty did not always sympathise with Mick's dilemmas because the burden of his work inevitably led to his neglecting her. She went to bed early one night and couldn't sleep. She thought of him and wrote:

I was ‘madly, passionately, in love with you' – to use your own words, and I understand those feelings now ... But sure you know and we both know and remember Greystones and all the other wonderful times.
31

He tried to reassure her and to remain optimistic:

One thing – don't worry about me. I have every faith in things coming right no matter how difficult and dark the outlook at the moment. Then we shall be happier, and I hope all the happier because of what we've been through.
32

Notes

‘When are you coming to town?' Mick wrote to Kitty from government office very early on the morning of 28 July. ‘You don't know [how] glad it made me to speak to you on the phone yesterday – to hear your voice and I can always feel very near one when I speak on the phone ... The pressure is very very heavy and there is little sign of relaxation.'

In his new role as commander-in-chief he was throwing himself fully into the task. In a memo to the government on the general situation on 26 July, he reported that the government forces were in a strong position. On 5 August he wrote to W. T. Cosgrave, acting chairman that he intended to deal with the immediate problems in the south. He was preoccupied with military matters, having left the political arena temporarily to Griffith, Cosgrave, O'Higgins and others.

That day he sent a telegram with his ‘fondest love' to Kitty saying that it was ‘quieter this morning. Hope ordinary conditions will be restored in a few days. How are you and everything? ... All here doing well so far'.

The course of the Civil War was determined by the pattern of barrack occupation of either pro- or anti-Treaty forces, and also by leaders in districts. In early August, Collins had officers and men placed in strategic positions which led to the taking of Limerick, Waterford, Wexford and other major centres. Coastal landings were suggested by Emmet Dalton, director of military operations. Dalton believed that Republican strongholds were vulnerable to attacks from the sea so Collins placed him in charge of operations to carry out his [Dalton's] own suggestion.

Michael Collins had engaged his sister, Mary Collins-Powell, to liaise between himself and Emmet Dalton in Cork. She was involved in the organisation of a volunteer force to help her brother. She was an extremely determined and efficient young women and had been a help to Mick throughout the entire revolutionary period.
1

On this occasion Mary Collins-Powell was unable to use the direct route from Cork because of the destruction of roads and railway lines, so Harry Donegan and Dr Gerald Ahern brought her some of the way on a yacht called
The Gull
. As the wind was against them they pulled in at Waterford, which was in government hands; from there she got a taxi to Rosslare and then a train to Dublin. She had details for Michael of arrangements for the Cork landing, and told him that there were up to 500 men ready to join his forces in Cork but who were lying low due to lack of arms.
2

On 7 August he was about to leave the barracks on army business when his sister arrived. He shared this news with Kitty: ‘She [Mary Collins-Powell] is full of Cork and what the Irregulars are doing there.' They had taken control of customs duties and taxes.

Later that day, Dalton brought an eighteen-pounder and five hundred mostly raw recruits aboard the commandeered
Arvonia
and landed at Passage West, County Cork. Collins was in high spirits when he discussed the taking of west Cork with John L. O'Sullivan and Seán Hales. Both efficient soldiers, they set out by boat from Dublin with a number of men, landed without difficulty in Bantry Bay, captured the town of Bantry and took towns along the coast into Kinsale during the second week of August. These expeditions happened at the same time as a shipment force under Liam Tobin landed at Youghal, and Emmet Dalton's massive invasion of Cork city.
3

Eoin O'Duffy, Field General of the South Western Command, moved with his men and took regions between Limerick and the North Kerry border just as General Paddy Daly landed at Fenit with 500 men on 2 August. A few days later another 240 men landed in Tarbert, so that by mid-August the pro-Treaty troops had occupied the main centres of population in Kerry.
4

Collins, Mulcahy and all the officials at GHQ worked for hours into the night, meeting again early in the mornings to set in motion the gigantic organisation required to get so many men transported in slow-moving boats around Irish waters.

Collins was lucky with the men with whom he worked, Richard Mulcahy, J. J. O'Connell and the officers in Dublin and countrywide were stalwarts in shouldering with him the daily burdens. There were the women of Cumann na Saoirse such as Jennie Wyse-Power, Alice Stopford-Green, Margaret O'Shea, Min Ryan, Nancy O'Brien, his sister Mary Collins-Powell and many others who did important work for him. It was after much soul-searching that many of these women supported the Treaty.

Early on 7 August Mick wrote a few of ‘the most hurried lines' he had ever written to Kitty before he set out for Maryborough, the Curragh and nearby military posts. Next day he wrote to her of the harrowing experience which made him cry at the funeral Mass for nine soldiers killed in action in Kerry:

... the scenes at Mass were really heartbreaking. The poor women weeping and almost shrieking (some of them) for their dead sons. Sisters and one wife were there too, and a few small children. It makes one feel I tell you.
5

With strong key men in all the commands his military tactics should soon bring the matter to a close, he was certain.

By 10 August, Dalton, with Liam Tobin and their men, was making steady progress. After hearing good news, Mick, elated, wrote a few lines to Kitty ‘to show I'm thinking of you ... by this time you'll know what I had on my hands then [9 August]. Cork is in the melting pot now.'
6

By the second week in August it was time for Collins to move into the country to review the military posts. He was encouraged by reports returned from each of the commands that the anti-Treatyites were now ‘beaten as an open force'.
7

With this in mind, and because a sizeable part of the country was now held by the National Army, he would take a trip to the country, talk to officers and review the army on location. On Saturday, 12 August, having had little sleep, he ‘left Portobello barracks at 4 am exactly' on an inspection tour. He would visit Limerick, Kerry, then cross the border into County Cork.
8

‘I am scribbling you a line and it will only be a line – as there are two officers waiting for me and a car. If, however, I don't write now I may not be back here for the post. It is very likely that you won't hear again for a few days, but you'll understand – won't you Kitty dear ... Fondest love.'
9

His decision to travel from Kerry to Cork and other centres was halted as news reached him in Tralee late on 12 August that his friend, colleague and mentor, Arthur Griffith, had died. Very early next morning, 13 August, he was on the road again for Dublin.

Over the next few days Griffith's funeral would occupy some of Mick's time. However on Tuesday, 15 August his diary bears witness to a crowded day involving a vast number of operational matters, disciplinary matters and government correspondence.

Hazel and Sir John Lavery had come to Ireland on 13 August, and were staying at the Kingstown Hotel in Dun Laoghaire. That Wednesday morning, 16 August, Michael Collins telephoned Cosgrave before calling Sir John and Lady Hazel Lavery, both of whom had been friendly with Griffith. He met members of the Provisional Government at 10.30 am, and together they went to Arthur Griffith's funeral Mass. This was followed by the processional march to Glasnevin cemetery.
10

That morning he had got word that Reggie Dunne and Joseph O'Sullivan had been hanged on 10 August, in Wandsworth Prison, London, for the shooting of Sir Henry Wilson. Dunne's final wish was similar to that often expressed by Collins: ‘Oh pray for our poor country!' O'Sullivan in his last letter to his mother had listed people to whom he wished to be remembered; included in the list was ‘Mick Collins'.
11

As he walked behind the tricolour-draped coffin at the head of his staff, a bystander, noticing Collins' grim expression, remarked, ‘Ireland's problems hang heavily on his shoulders'.
12

The commander-in-chief, in a graveside tribute to Arthur Griffith, said:

He always knew what Irish Nationality meant, just as Davis knew it. He never confused it with English nationality. ... In memory of Arthur Griffith let us resolve now to give fresh play to the impulse of unity, to join together one and all in continuing his constructive work, in building up the country which he loved.
13

This part of the task completed, he moved back. Silently he stood, head bowed, while the soil was placed over the coffin of his friend. He had more work ahead. His inspection tour of southern counties had to be completed; with most of the major towns and cities in the hands of government forces it looked to him as if the Civil War would soon be over. The slow processional march to Glasnevin had been stressful. Dr Fogarty, bishop of Killaloe, moved beside him as he stood alone and gazed at the grave. ‘Michael, you should be prepared – you may be next.'

Collins turned. ‘I know,' he said stoically. Then as if dismissing that interlude and wishing to God this nightmare was over, he said, ‘I hope nobody takes it into his head to die for another twelve months'.
14

Sir John and Hazel Lavery observed his despondency. They chatted with him for a few moments and asked him to join them for a meal later that night.

But first of all duty called back at his Portobello office. Later, happy to get away from his desk, he set out for the Kingstown Hotel, to have dinner with the Laverys at 8 o'clock. He was glad of the break after the ordeal of the earlier part of the day. He was never to know that Hazel had saved his life that night. Unknowingly she sat between him and the window, outside of which a gunman waited.
15

At 10.30 pm he left for Baldonnell to pick up ‘air service reports'.
16

On Thursday morning, 17 August, he received a letter from Eoin O'Duffy, Limerick headquarters, stating that Mr Liam Hayes TD had brought O'Duffy a letter requesting that Commandant General Hannigan issue to Dan Breen, ‘a safe conduct' pass to see Collins. O'Duffy argued: ‘I respectfully suggest that you refuse to see him. He has been most active against us here and was one of the great “ralliers” in the fight put up by the Irregulars' and is ‘the tool of Lynch' who in turn is ‘the tool' of de Valera. ‘Any sort of negotiations at this stage would do an enormous amount of damage among the troops. They would immediately ease off and it would take some time to get them back to the present fighting spirit.'

In this letter O'Duffy explained how much territory was now held by the National Force. With himself moving along the front from ‘the Waterford border to Rathmore' in Kerry, with Dalton taking in much of the Cork area and Prout moving from Waterford towards Clonmel and on, ‘with all three ... working in co-operation for a week, which should bring us up to the 25th August, we might then be in a position to negotiate with advantage ... I suggest to you, not to see Breen or any of the others ...'
17

This opinion from a commanding officer like O'Duffy, together with the aerial reconnaissance report and a further report from Dalton of the capture of the Mallow-Fermoy-Buttevant area, helped Collins to clarify his thoughts.

He felt he should resume his review of the forces in the south, see the situation for himself, and speak to officers ‘on the ground'. Immediately he sent a message to O'Duffy: ‘Am anxious to know progress towards Millstreet. Expect to see you linked up with Dalton everywhere within twenty-four hours. See you about ten o'clock on Saturday.' His mind was made up. At this juncture he wasn't sure how far south he would go, but he was going south – first to Limerick.
18

Early next morning, Friday 18 August, he walked into the office of Joe McGrath, his intelligence officer, and announced his intention of travelling south. McGrath protested, pointing out the danger.

On one occasion Mick had said to Cosgrave, ‘Do you think I shall live through this [Civil War]? Not likely!' And he turned to Sinéad Mason and asked, ‘How would you like a new boss?' She found this so strange that she recounted the episode to O'Reilly. Next day as the two were out, O'Reilly enquired about his health, ‘Rotten,' replied Collins. There was a slight pause, ‘How would you like a new boss?' O'Reilly's heart sank. He told him he would never work for anybody else. Never a man to dwell on anything, Collins had an order for O'Reilly then, and the incident was forgotten.
19

Now this morning Collins had another order. He told McGrath to get a convoy organised; he was determined he was not ‘going to run from his own Corkmen'. He would travel on Sunday, not on Saturday as he initially intended, as an amount of correspondence awaited his attention.

McGrath later wrote all his objections in red ink in a letter which he intended to put on Collins' desk, but on reflection decided that when Collins gave an order he wanted it implemented without argument.

Next morning a wire message from Dalton in Cork stated that ‘terms' had been communicated to him ‘by a committee of prominent citizens of Cork'. Their terms included a week's truce during which ‘facilities are to be afforded to the Republican military and political leaders to hold a meeting to discuss the making of peace.' Certain guidelines concerning ‘arms, ammunitions and political prisoners' were listed in a five-point plan.
20

Collins responded by wire:

Will you say by cypher who the prominent citizens responsible for the offer are? Have the Irregular Leaders, political and military agreed to the offer and is it made on their behalf?

Government offer published in the Press 5 June and conveyed to the People's Rights Association, Cork stands.

So that there would be no ambiguity, Collins listed the terms which included the ‘Transfer into the national armoury of all war materials'.
21