Category Archives: Irish Civil War

Letter describes ‘extraordinarily beautiful’ Achill Island in summer 1923

(This post marks our 12th blogiversary. Thanks for your support. I’m away until September. MH)

Chester A. Arthur III, grandson of the late 19th century U.S. president, and his wife, Charlotte, lived in Ireland for several years beginning in 1922.[1]The couple married in June 1922 in England, then honeymooned and settled in Ireland. The also traveled to other parts of Europe and back to the United States. Chester was bisexual, including affairs … Continue reading Chester supported anti-treaty republicans in the Irish Civil War. He wrote letters to the editor and longer pieces about Ireland for U.S. newspapers.

The American couple befriended Irish nationalists Darryl and Millie Figgis. The Irish couple in 1913 had bought a small house and some land at Pullagh, Achill Island, in County Mayo, a place to escape the noise and grime of Dublin. That became more true during the ensuing decade of revolutionary violence. The Arthurs arrived as the Figgis’ guests in July 1923. Chester, then 22, described their “cozy little cottage by the broad Atlantic” in a letter to his mother.[2]From the large collection of Arthur family papers at the Library of Congress.

Lightly edited selections of his descriptions begin below the photo:

Achillbeg, Achill Island                                                                                                                                         Fáilte Ireland

“Although there is not a tree within miles, the huge cliffs, the golden beach, the heather purple hills and the turquoise green sea make this place one of the most extraordinarily beautiful I have ever seen. And here of course is the real Gaeltacht, the real Ireland unanglicized and pagan. Each family builds and repairs their own stone whitewashed walls and their own barley thatch. They are self-supporting, their clothes are hand-made from the sheep’s back to their own; they cure their own hams, grind their own oatmeal, brew their own poteen, and catch and dry their own fish.

“Irish of course is the language spoken and sung in plaintive harmony. The men wear short white jackets and big black hats; sometimes the sweater underneath is blue and sometimes burned orange (both dyes are taken from the sea). Their trousers are of the thick homespun which in England is only worn by gentlemen. The women sit behind them sidewise on the horse’s rump when they go to Mass. Their skirts are usually brilliant red, their bodices either green, blue or purple; the shawls over their heads are always black. They have very wide high cheekbones, rather delicately chiseled straight noses, and straight black or red hair. Their long eyes are almost always very beautiful, every color that the sea takes on incites moods. If they do not know you they are very shy, but after the ice is broken, they prove very witty and amusing.

“A cèilidh[3]A social gathering with singing, dancing, and storytelling. was gotten up in our honor. The Figgis’ are very popular here. Almost the whole village crowds into a small cabin and after a few songs the four most enterprising young men get out in the middle and beckon the four belles for the square dance. They clog and whirl themselves a space in the crowd, which packs up against the walls. The room gets very hot, the clean healthy sweat from the dancers fill the air with a primitive very stimulating aroma. Eyes begin to gleam; queer little stifled cries burst from the boys as they stomp and whirl around and around their partners, who turn and turn and command respect with their eyes, yet invite and call with every essence of their bodies. And all the time the fiddle is scraping away music thousands of years old, rhythm inconceivably quick and throbbing, yet in minor key, and with a queer bagpipe drone making almost a syncopation of discord; the very heart of the stranger beats in time to the little lame boy’s fiddling.

“Now as I write, I gaze out of the little deep set window across the boggy headland, where the old women are gathering peat, across the sea, which like a great cruel gray cat lies between the violet mountains, and purrs as its sleep. The wind is keening the drowned fishermen whom the grey cat has struck with his claws. And every now and then the wind dies down, in a flash of sunshine, the cat opens his long green eyes and looks at me; but always dozes off to sleep again.

“The wind is never still here. Sometimes it only moans and cries a drone to the seagulls’ piping; but then at other times it rises with the force of a hundred djinns (In Arabian and Muslim mythology, an intelligent spirit of lower rank than the angels) and carries away the roof of the houses however securely they are tied it to the imp-headed beams sticking out from the walls near the top. And then the people pray, some to God the Father, and some to Manannán,[4]Celtic sea god. and some to both—it is all the same, for they will have in any case to rob the cow of her barley straw, and weave a new thatch, and try some new device to keep it on. But sometimes the winds work under the slates of the new British built houses, and slates go flying over the bog and over the grey cliffs into the sea; then what glee among the natives that the newfangled roofs are really no better than the roof their fathers taught them to make, only when they do fly off  they cost twice as much and take twice as long to repair. …

“A fisherman was drowned the other day. The sea was dragged with grappling hooks, prayers were offered up for the recovery of the body for burial in holy ground. All Christian means having failed, the dead man’s coat was sent for. After it had been blessed by the priest, an incantation was whispered over it preserved from Druid days, and then it was taken out and thrown into the sea. The swift current bore it along until suddenly it seemed to resist the force of the current and rested still. The sea was dragged and just under the coat the man’s body was found, and great thanks were given up to God.

“… The lad[5]Presumably, D. Figgis. and I go on expeditions up the mountains and fishing on the sea. We swim twice a day, so we don’t care that there are no bathtubs. Charlotte and Mrs. Figgis accompany us whenever they can and keep each other company except at mealtime when they marvel at the quantity we eat. No life could be healthier than this, certainly. We are so tired at ten o’clock that we go to bed and right to sleep though it is still very light.

“I am certainly going to have a cottage on this wild west coast of Ireland to which I can go in retreat from the roiling of the great world. Everything here is primitive and oh so restful and refreshing after New York and Dublin. Real communism exists as a matter of course here, for the people love each other. Love and hard work and a close touch with nature, what more ennobling can be found in life?”

Not long after their visit to Achill Island, Chester and Charlotte Arthur witnessed the August 1923 arrest of Éamon de Valera at a campaign event at Ennis, County Clare. Within the next two years Millie and Darryl Figgis each committed suicide. The Arthurs divorced in 1932.

Keem Beach, Achill Island.                                                                                                                                  Fáilte Ireland

References

References
1 The couple married in June 1922 in England, then honeymooned and settled in Ireland. The also traveled to other parts of Europe and back to the United States. Chester was bisexual, including affairs with Irish republicans. See Maurice J. Casey’s, “A Queer Migrant in the Irish Civil War.”
2 From the large collection of Arthur family papers at the Library of Congress.
3 A social gathering with singing, dancing, and storytelling.
4 Celtic sea god.
5 Presumably, D. Figgis.

Post-treaty Ireland’s brief ‘nationalist happiness’

Col. Frederick Palmer, a veteran American war correspondent, sailed into the Queenstown harbor on Feb. 2, 1922. His use of the town name that honored Victoria’s 1849 visit drew a quick correction from “an Irishman on board my steamer,” Palmer later reported. The passenger informed him the name was changed to Cobh with the establishment of the Irish Free State. The correspondent used the anecdote to open his exploration of “how it feels for the Irish to be free, and what the Irish are going to do with their freedom.”

Palmer told his U.S. readers: “It is from the people by the way-side that one gets the real story of Ireland today. They would not be Irish if they did not know how to talk. An Irishman can tell more in a sentence than some people can in a book.”

Col. Frederick Palmer, about 10 years before his 1922 trip to Ireland.

As he waited for the tender to take him to shore, Palmer, 48, stood 5-foot, 9-inchs tall under “brown-gray” hair; a “long oval” face, “fair” complexion, and “prominent” chin, with gray eyes behind glasses, in the parlance of his U.S. passport.[1]1921 Passport application. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA); Washington D.C.; NARA Series: Passport Applications, January 2, 1906 – March 31, 1925; Roll #: 1478; Volume … Continue reading He had accumulated more than two decades of reporting from conflict zones: the Greco-Turkish War of 1897; the Philippine-America War of 1899-1902; the Boxer Rebellion in China (1900); the Boer War in South Africa (1899-1902); the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905); the Balkans in 1912; Mexico City in 1914; and the First World War.

As a New York Herald correspondent before the Great War, Palmer earned what today would be an $800,000 annual salary. But he gave it up to become what he called “the pioneer press censor and general utility public relations” man with the American Expeditionary Force.[2]John Maxwell Hamilton, Manipulating The Masses: Woodrow Wilson and the Birth of American Propaganda [Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press, 2020], 110, 237. Other top American journalists had joined the Wilson administration: George Creel, Charles Edward Russell, and Ray Stannard Baker, among others. Only Palmer earned a military rank.

As he arrived in Ireland, Palmer’s 1921 exploration of international conflicts, The Folly of Nations, was drawing positive press reviews in America. In one passage of the 400-page book, he wrote:

If the Irish had relied upon propaganda, would they have won concessions from the British government? They have proved that when a people are in the exalted mood to offer blood sacrifice, even in the era of the machine gun and rapid-firing artillery, there is no preventing the progress of a sniping warfare, with the connivance of the masses, from month to month and from year to year.[3]Frederick Palmer, The Folly of Nations [New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1921] 197.

It was not the correspondent’s first visit to Ireland. “I had seen it in the old days of Redmond and Healy, and again two years ago (1920) under the reign of terror when the faces of all the people were gray and the Sinn Fein leaders proscribed. I had always thought of the Irish as at heart the kindest of peoples, generous of impulse as they were obliging and civil of manner. Confirmation of that view is complete after the severest of tests.”[4]“People Of Ireland Get Down To The Task Of Learning Gaelic”, The Toronto Star, Feb. 27, 1922. Story dated Feb. 10, 1922. The same story appeared in other papers at later dates with later … Continue reading

Later in his opening piece, Palmer continued:

There is something in the smile on all the Irish faces, in the light in Irish eyes worth coming from afar to see. It is happiness, sheer nationalist happiness; the happiness glowing out of great depths, over a dream come true after hundreds of years of waiting and striving. It is enough for the men and women in the streets of the towns and in cottage doorways from Bantry Bay to Donegal that the British are going. People who live faraway in the back country, and who doubt if it really can be true, journey to the railroad stations to watch the passing of the ancient enemy, and meanwhile bear themselves in a way that amounts to fine dignity—a finer dignity than some of the other people who have recently achieved nationhood have shown.”

The Buffalo Times, March 12, 1922.

For six weeks Palmer traveled Ireland “end to end” from his base at the Shelborne Hotel in Dublin. His six-part series for the New York Evening Post was distributed to other U.S. and Canadian newspapers under the title “Building The Irish Free State.” The stories appeared in newspapers through April, the datelines changed to appear more recent than it really was.

Palmer devoted most of his reporting to interviewing the now divided pro- and anti-treaty Irish leaders, who faced a general election in mid-June. He described Eamon de Valera as “the voice for another man’s words,” insisting “the real power behind him is Erskine Childers, who is not Irish in blood, manners or training.” Further, Palmer continued, “the driving force behind Childers himself is Mrs. Childers. She does not appear in public. There is no mention of her in the press, as there is of Miss MacSwiney, the sister of the martyr mayor of Cork; or Mrs. O’Callaghan, the wife of the martyr mayor of Limerick, and other female extremists.”[5]“Silent, Frail Little Englishman And Boston Wife Real Force Behind Valera, Says Palmer”, The San Francisco Journal and Daily Journal of Commerce, April 16, 1922, and other papers before and after … Continue reading [6]Mary Alden “Molly” Childers, nee Osgood, was a native of Boston. Her husband was executed by Free State forces in November 1922. “Of all the men I ever met, I would say he was the … Continue reading

The next time Palmer disembarked from a liner was in mid-March at New York City. He told a dockside reporter: “What Ireland needs now more than anything else perhaps is a sturdy and quick development of her industries. The people realize this and are striving to bring it about. They want the Irish in America to come back home and with capital and brain power (to) assist in building up the country. When I left Ireland there was a project underway for big development in the harbor of Queenstown.”[7]“Free Staters Will Win, Say Frederick Palmer”, New York Tribune, March 21, 1922.

Palmer had already forgotten the name change to Cobh. And the deepening rupture among Irish republicans would soon spoil the country’s brief nationalist happiness.

References

References
1 1921 Passport application. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA); Washington D.C.; NARA Series: Passport Applications, January 2, 1906 – March 31, 1925; Roll #: 1478; Volume #: Roll 1478 – Certificates: 135500-135875, 29 Jan 1921-31 Jan 1921. Cedric “Arriving Passengers” List, Queenstown, Ireland, February 2, 1922. The National Archives in Washington, DC; London, England, UK; Board of Trade: Commercial and Statistical Department and Successors: Inwards Passenger Lists; Class: Bt26; Piece: 715; Item: 45.
2 John Maxwell Hamilton, Manipulating The Masses: Woodrow Wilson and the Birth of American Propaganda [Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press, 2020], 110, 237.
3 Frederick Palmer, The Folly of Nations [New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1921] 197.
4 “People Of Ireland Get Down To The Task Of Learning Gaelic”, The Toronto Star, Feb. 27, 1922. Story dated Feb. 10, 1922. The same story appeared in other papers at later dates with later datelines.
5 “Silent, Frail Little Englishman And Boston Wife Real Force Behind Valera, Says Palmer”, The San Francisco Journal and Daily Journal of Commerce, April 16, 1922, and other papers before and after this date.
6 Mary Alden “Molly” Childers, nee Osgood, was a native of Boston. Her husband was executed by Free State forces in November 1922. “Of all the men I ever met, I would say he was the noblest,” de Valera declared.
7 “Free Staters Will Win, Say Frederick Palmer”, New York Tribune, March 21, 1922.

U.S. press on 1923 Nobel Prize for W.B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

Ireland’s William Butler Yeats received the Nobel Prize for literature 100 years ago this month. The Nobel Foundation cited “his always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation.”[1]The Nobel Prize in Literature 1923. NobelPrize.org.

Yeats began publishing poetry in his 20s during the Irish Land War of the 1880s. The Nobel Prize came a few months after the end of the Irish Civil War, which concluded a decade of revolutionary activity that Yeats captured in several remarkable poems. See:

  • September 1913 (“Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone, It’s with O’Leary in the grave.”)
  • Easter, 1916 (“All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born.”)
  • The Second Coming (“Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”)

Yeats had visited the United States in 1920, during the war of independence, following his earlier stops in 1903/4, 1911, and 1914. Here is a selection of U.S. press commentary about his Nobel Prize:

“The honor … may be unexpected but it is not undeserved. … Mr. Yeats has a highly distinctive place among his fellows. None of the neo-Celtic school, except perhaps the late J.M. Synge, has surpassed him in originality; none has equaled him in the mystic charm which is the very essence of the Celtic genius. The work of Mr. Yeats is not to be judged, however, by any limited standard; its Celtic quality is only part of its appeal. … Mr. Yeats’s lyrics are as purely Celtic as anything could be, yet they are not alien to the English mind. He has gone to Ireland for his themes and made them of universal interest. Only a great poet could have done that.”[2]”An Irish Poet Wins the Nobel Prize”, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Nov. 16. 1923.

***

“The influence of Yeats is great and growing. Quotations from him are frequently used by other writers to strike the keynote of an idea or to illustrate the trend of modern literature. … He is a pioneer of a memorable initiative of poetical and dramatic art and a leader in national life, aspiration and attainment.”[3]”Deservedly Honored”, The Buffalo (N.Y.) Times, Nov. 16, 1923.

***

“Mr. Yeats is a true nationalist in his land, a student of the traditional in Irish literature, a patron of the astonishing Irish theater, and a member of the Irish Senate. He has been an interesting visitor to this country in the recent past. His fame was secure without this signal honor; if it attracts new readers to his works the Novel foundation, in thus honoring the poet, will in a large measure have justified its activity.”[4]”A Prize for an Irish Poet”, The (Brooklyn, N.Y.) Standard Union, Nov. 18, 1923.

Yeats made several glancing references to America in his Dec. 15, 1923, Nobel lecture. He returned to the United States one last time in 1932/32, cumulatively spending more than a year in the country.[5]”W.B. Yeats in the USA, 1903-1932″, Embassy of Ireland USA website. He died in 1939, aged 73.

Three other Irish writers subsequently received the Nobel Prize in literature: George Bernard Shaw, 1925; Samuel Beckett, 1969; and Seamus Heaney, 1998.

From the Boston Globe, Nov. 17, 1923.

References

References
1 The Nobel Prize in Literature 1923. NobelPrize.org.
2 ”An Irish Poet Wins the Nobel Prize”, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Nov. 16. 1923.
3 ”Deservedly Honored”, The Buffalo (N.Y.) Times, Nov. 16, 1923.
4 ”A Prize for an Irish Poet”, The (Brooklyn, N.Y.) Standard Union, Nov. 18, 1923.
5 ”W.B. Yeats in the USA, 1903-1932″, Embassy of Ireland USA website.

U.S. press opinions on end of the Irish Civil War

In May 1923, U.S. newspaper editorial pages assessed Ireland’s 11-month-old civil war as Éamon de Valera and recalcitrant republicans took the final halting steps toward ending their insurgency against the Irish Free State. “Strong hope that peace nears in Ireland is voiced by American editors,” began an “editorial digest” from more than a dozen dailies. (Clicking the image will enlarge it in most browsers.) Below it are opinions from three other papers after the IRA’s May 24 order to “dump arms,” officially ending the hostilities.

Periodic violence and political turmoil continued to trouble Ireland, but the revolutionary period that began in 1912 with the arming of Ulster and Nationalist volunteers had finally ended. As important, the civil war permanently shifted Irish American attention from the politics of the old country to assimilation in their adopted country, though affection remained for the homeland.

From the Evening Star, Washington, D.C., May 8, 1923.

The Buffalo (N.Y.) Enquirer compared the situation in Ireland to the U.S. Civil War, which ended nearly 60 years earlier.

If de Valera is seeking an example for the future he may find it in America where all are friends of Ireland. Our own civil war was fought with all the bitterness of Ireland’s civil war: but when the Confederacy laid down its arms, it did so with no thought of taking up arms again after a period of recouperation. It kept alive no purpose to take up arms again. To that noble action this country owes its present peace, unity, prosperity, and greatness. It will serve Ireland as magnificently as it has served the United States.[1]”Peace In Ireland”, The Buffalo Enquirer, May 31, 1923.

The Birmingham (Ala.) News, which encouraged anti-Catholic and nativist opposition to de Valera’s April 1920 visit to the city, remained hostile to the republican leader:

Lack of common sense has been de Valera’s besetting sin–or was it ambition? … For de Valera’s ambition or idealism or lack of common sense the greensward of Ireland has been drenched in the blood of Irishmen–and women–shed by other Irishmen. … It is well that Mr. de Valera has finally admitted that he cannot impose his will upon the majority of the Irish–but at what ghastly price has he become convinced! The wraiths of the unnecessary dead should attend him always; the sorrows of mothers who have lost their sons–at his command; the wailings of helpless children who are so by his devotion to his ambition in the fade of the majority; the moans of the widows–made so at his behest–should ring in his ears as the tolling of some ceaseless, solemn knell.[2]”De Valera At Last Bows To Inevitable; He Orders A Cessation of Hostilities”, The Birmingham News, May 31, 1923.

While heartened that de Valera and Irish republicans had finally decided to stop fighting, the Decatur (Ill.) Herald noted other roadblocks remained for Ireland’s path forward:

The chaos brought by the Republicans afforded exactly the opportunity desired by the Communists, including large groups of strongly organized workers. The Communists will scarcely cease their activities because the Republicans have decided to become good citizens. Finally, of course, there is Ulster, a problem as relentless and troublesome as ever. If the Free State does succeed in overcoming all of the difficulties thrown in its way … it will be entitled to credit for a remarkable achievement. It is not yet time for the expression of unreserved optimism.[3]”It Comes Late”, Decatur (Ill.) Herald, May 30, 1923.

See my American Reporting of Irish Independence series.

References

References
1 ”Peace In Ireland”, The Buffalo Enquirer, May 31, 1923.
2 ”De Valera At Last Bows To Inevitable; He Orders A Cessation of Hostilities”, The Birmingham News, May 31, 1923.
3 ”It Comes Late”, Decatur (Ill.) Herald, May 30, 1923.

The D.C. death of an Irish ‘stormy petrel’, April 1923

Laurence Ginnell, Library of Congress photo

By mid-April 1923 the Irish Free State army regularly routed anti-government forces. Liam Lynch, the IRA’s chief of staff, was killed on April 10; Austin Stack, his deputy, was captured a few days later. Talk of a ceasefire and the end of Ireland’s 10-month-old civil war was in the air, and in the press.

But the death by natural causes of Irish politician Laurence Ginnell[1]See Dictionary of Irish Biography entry. in a Washington, D.C. hotel room also contributed to the demoralization of the “irregulars.” Since August 1922, the 71-year-old served as envoy to the United States for Éamon de Valera’s unrecognized Irish republic. Ginnell had no real diplomatic status, and his stature was diminished after a failed attempt to take control of the Free State’s consulate office in New York City.

“He was in apparent good health earlier today, and when a hotel attendant called to deliver a message said he would attend to it later. On going back he was found dead,” the Evening Star reported on page 13.[2]”Irish Republican Leader Dies Here”, Evening Star, Washington, D.C., April 17, 1923. Historians have suggested Ginnell’s health suffered from the cumulative impacts of several imprisonments earlier in his life.

Ginnell died at D.C.’s Hotel Lafayette, about two miles west of the U.S. Capitol. Three Aprils earlier a dinner honoring de Valera, then on his 18-month tour of America, was staged in the hotel’s ballroom. From November 1920 through January 1921 the Lafayette became headquarters of the American Commission on Conditions in Ireland, a non-U.S. government body created by pro-Irish interests to generate publicity and political support for the declared Irish republic. Ginnell’s combative and argumentative nature emerged at the outset of his Dec. 15, 1920, testimony before the commission, :

I cannot go into this thing unless I am allowed to state the conditions. The evidence I have to give you is at your disposal only on the condition that it is not to be made use of in any recommendations regarding Ireland. We in Ireland have settled our own government on the basis of your President’s own statements. We have applied the right of self-determination to our own country. Indeed, I will not go behind the present status of the Republican Government in Ireland today. Indeed, I will not give any evidence whatever unless I am assured that no effort will be made to go behind the Irish Republican Government, the only constitutional government in Ireland today. And to attempt to discuss the right of Ireland to her independence is to attempt to re-establish the English Government where she has lost all power and respect whatsoever. If I get the assurance that that is not your intention, then I will sit down and begin my evidence immediately.[3]See Ginnell’s full testimony, pages 462-505.

The Washington Herald described Ginnell as “one of Sinn Fein’s most militant spirits” upon his arrival in the city earlier in 1920.[4]”Notes By A Washington Observer”, The Washington Herald, July 29, 1920. In coverage of his 1923 death, the American, Irish, and British press noted Ginnell’s unique status of having been elected as an Irish Parliamentary Party member in the United Kingdom’s House of Commons, and as a Sinn Féin republican in Dáil Éireann. The irascible Ginnell held the distinction of being ejected from both legislative bodies.

Following his 1920 American Commission appearance, Ginnell represented the Irish republic in South America. His telegramed vote against the Anglo-Irish Treaty was not accepted, but he became, at de Valera’s request, the only opposition member to sit in the Dáil. It was because of his relationship with de Valera that John Devoy’s Gaelic American offered a critical, if respectful, assessment of Ginnell’s career.[5]See “Ginnell, De Valera’s Envoy in America, Dies Suddenly“, The Gaelic American, April 28, 1923.

Ginnell entered politics during the Plan of Campaign agitation of the Irish Land War in the late 1880s, “the stormy petrel of Parnellite politics,” according to press accounts. He was the co-founder of the Irish Literary Society (1892) and the author of several books, including The brehon laws: a legal guide (1894), The doubtful grant of Ireland by Pope Adrian IV to King Henry II (1899), and Land and liberty (1908) .[6]DIB, linked in Note 1.

Hotel Lafayette in Washington D.C., between 1910 and 1926. Library of Congress photo.

The first of three funeral Masses for Ginnell was held at D.C.’s St. Matthew’s Catholic Church, 40 years later the site of slain U.S. President John F. Kennedy’s service. Ginnell’s body was then conveyed to New York City, where another Mass occurred at the Carmelite Catholic church on East 28th Street.

During the Irish revolutionary period, the Manhattan church’s friars sheltered Irish revolutionaries on the run from British authorities, including de Valera. They also stashed part of a cache of 600 Thompson submachine guns, wrapped in burlap sacks and bound for Ireland during the war.[7]”The End of an Era at Bellevue and a Nearby Church”, The New York Times, June 27, 2007.

In a telegram to Alice Ginnell (née King), de Valera described his departed colleague as “one of the most indefatigable workers for Ireland.”[8]”Delegations From Many States At Ginnell Funeral”, Buffalo Morning Express, April 21, 1923. But only a week earlier de Valera effectively removed Ginnell from Irish activities in America, “an unfortunate and sad end to a long career.”[9]Dr. Paul Hughes, a Mullingar-based journalist and historian, in the “Laurence Ginnell–Part 2: from Ireland to America” podcast from the Westmeath County Council Decade of Centenaries, … Continue reading

Finally, the widow accompanied her husband’s body back to Ireland, contrary to an incorrect press report that Ginnell was buried in New York. Major Michael A Kelly, veteran of the Irish American 69th New York Infantry Regiment, represented De Valera at the May 1, 1923, service at the Carmelite church on Whitefriars Street, Dublin. Interment followed in Ginnell’s native Delvin, County Westmeath.

The Irish Civil War ended before the month concluded.

References

References
1 See Dictionary of Irish Biography entry.
2 ”Irish Republican Leader Dies Here”, Evening Star, Washington, D.C., April 17, 1923.
3 See Ginnell’s full testimony, pages 462-505.
4 ”Notes By A Washington Observer”, The Washington Herald, July 29, 1920.
5 See “Ginnell, De Valera’s Envoy in America, Dies Suddenly“, The Gaelic American, April 28, 1923.
6 DIB, linked in Note 1.
7 ”The End of an Era at Bellevue and a Nearby Church”, The New York Times, June 27, 2007.
8 ”Delegations From Many States At Ginnell Funeral”, Buffalo Morning Express, April 21, 1923.
9 Dr. Paul Hughes, a Mullingar-based journalist and historian, in the “Laurence Ginnell–Part 2: from Ireland to America” podcast from the Westmeath County Council Decade of Centenaries, Jan. 24, 2022.

Irish Civil War’s toll on Kerry’s ‘Lartigue’ monorail

Anti-government forces in the Irish Civil War attacked the Listowel and Ballybunion Railway several times in early 1923. Damage to the rolling stock and stations of the 9-mile monorail between the two Kerry towns, and the impracticalities of operating such a unique line in the newly consolidated Irish rail system, forced its permanent closure in October 1924.

Passengers and mail on the LBR had been targeted by Irish republican forces during the Irish War of Independence, 1919-1921. In January 1923, during the civil war, armed men forced the Ballybunion stationmaster to open the line’s office, goods store, and waiting room, which they doused with petrol and paraffin oil and set on fire. Within an hour a similar attack occurred at the Lisselton station, about halfway between the two terminuses.[1]”Destruction In Kerry”, Freeman’s Journal, Jan. 25, 1923.

Such destruction is generally attributed to the IRA forces opposed to the Irish Free State. These “irregulars” also cut down about 1,700 yards of telegraph wire and six poles between Listowel and Ballybunion, matching attacks along other Irish rail routes.[2]”The Wire Cutters”, The Belfast News-Letter, Jan. 25, 1923.

Photo and caption in the Belfast News-Letter, Jan. 31, 1923.

Nicknamed the Lartigue after inventor Charles Lartigue, the monorail was “suspended indefinitely” in early February 1923 due to the sabotage. Nearly 40 employees lost their jobs, impacting about 100 family members and ancillary businesses.[3]”Kerry Railway Destruction” , The Irish Examiner, Feb. 2, 1923. With the train out of service, a char-a-banc and motor car service began operating between the two towns, but it also came under attack in March.

Once the civil war ended later that spring, the Lartigue was repaired in time for the busy summer season at Ballybunion, a seaside resort. By mid-July, the Freeman’s Journal reported the Lartigue “has already, particularly on Sundays, been taxed to almost its fullest capacity in the conveyance of visitors.”[4]”Provincial News In Brief, Ballybunion Season Opened”, Freeman’s Journal, July 17, 1923.

Like the Lartigue, however, the national newspaper also would have its run ended in 1924.

See my earlier work on the Lartigue monorail:

The Lartigue monorail in Kerry opened on Leap Year Day in 1888. It closed in October 1924.

References

References
1 ”Destruction In Kerry”, Freeman’s Journal, Jan. 25, 1923.
2 ”The Wire Cutters”, The Belfast News-Letter, Jan. 25, 1923.
3 ”Kerry Railway Destruction” , The Irish Examiner, Feb. 2, 1923.
4 ”Provincial News In Brief, Ballybunion Season Opened”, Freeman’s Journal, July 17, 1923.

Praying and ‘knocking heads together’ to end Irish Civil War

The archbishop’s story that “moved hundreds to tears” might have been a wee bit of malarkey.

Archbishop George W. Mundelein, speaking at Chicago’s 1923 St. Patrick’s Day banquet, described a secret meeting between Éamon de Valera, leader of the republican faction opposed to the fledgling Irish Free State, and General Richard Mulcahy, chief of government forces during the Irish Civil War. The prelate said the two combatants embraced each other as they met at a Dublin retreat house, then got down on their knees together to pray the “Hail Mary” and this litany:

 “St. Patrick; apostle of Ireland, pray for us; St. Bridgit, patroness of Ireland, pray for; All ye holy men and women who died for Ireland, pray for us.”

The archbishop assured the Ancient Order of Hibernians and its Ladies Auxiliary that the two sides were “groping for some way out of their difficulty,” which he suggested could be ended if only some strong man had the courage to “knock their heads together” in common and united effort. His story “moved hundreds to tears,” according to the news account. He was “the only speaker at the celebration who had the courage to make reference to present day conditions in the Emerald Isle.” 

The next day’s Chicago Tribune reported the story on page 5 (see below), but without the head knocking quote.[1]Mundelein Tells How Foes In Erin Knelt Together”, Chicago Tribune, March 18, 1923. The Associated Press wired its version of the story, with the quote, to other U.S. secular daily newspapers. The National Catholic Welfare Council news service distributed this version to Catholic weeklies, which published the story through the rest of March.[2]”Declares De Valera Knelt With Mulcahy”, The New York Times, March 19, 1923; “De Valera a And Mulcahy Reported Friends Again”, Evening Star, Washington, D.C., March 19, 1923; … Continue reading A brief version of the story from Central News also appeared in the Irish Examiner,[3]Mulcahy & De Valera, American Archbishop’s Statement”, Irish Examiner, March 20, 1923. but the Free State government denied it the next day.[4]”Praying Story Denied”, Belfast News-Letter, March 21, 1923.

Archbishop Mundelein attributed the story to one of his recent visitors, “the only person who witnessed this meeting,” but did not name his source. His informant must have been Monsignor John Rogers, a County Wexford native and pastor of St. Patrick’s Church in San Francisco active in Irish republican affairs.[5]”Monsignor John Rogers Drops Dead At Funeral”, The Sacramento Bee, May 6, 1935.

Undated photo.

A week before St. Patrick’s Day 1923, Monsignor Rogers cabled the Irish Independent to claim credit for the Sept. 8, 1922, meeting between De Valera and Mulcahy. In February 1923, Free State President William T. Cosgrave told the Independent that “a high church dignitary from another country” helped arrange the meeting, which did not yield a peace settlement.[6]”Monsignor Rogers’ Part”, Irish Independent, March 13, 1923.

De Valera’s personal papers at University College Dublin contain “correspondence between Monsignor John Rogers, Ernie O’Malley (Acting Assistant Chief of Staff), de Valera and Eamon Donnelly (‘Mr D’) on the organization of a meeting, through the auspices of Monsignor Rogers, between de Valera and General Richard Mulcahy and the issuing of a form of safe conduct for Mulcahy. Also includes a list of six propositions (8 September 1922, 1p) submitted by Monsignor Rogers to de Valera, as a ‘basis of action or agreement’ (3–8 September 1922 & February 1923, 14 items).” I have not reviewed this material, which is not available online.[7]Eamon de Valera Papers P150, UCD Archives finding guide page 535.

Monsignor Rogers, in an Oct. 8, 1922, letter to Joseph McGarrity of Philadelphia, wrote that he had dinned the previous evening in Chicago with Archbishop Edward Joseph Hanna of San Francisco and Archbishop Mundelein, whom he describe as “a true friend of De Valera.” McGarrity, who published the Irish Press from March 1918 until May 1922, was a key de Valera supporter before and after the Anglo-Irish Treaty split. The priest reported the Chicago archbishop had just read “the Chief’s last communication” with interest.

At the time, the American press was reporting the Free State army had intercepted multiple correspondence from de Valera. One letter said he had no influence over armed republicans. It also suggested that even if republicans could somehow “overthrow” the provisional government “they would themselves be ousted by the people at the next election.”[8]”De Valera Is Discouraged Over Affairs”, The Fresno (California) Morning Republican, Oct. 15, 1922.

Mundelein in 1924.

Archbishop Mundelein, 50 in 1923, was the American-born son of an Irish mother and a German father. He became archbishop in 1915. In 1921, he was listed on the national council of the American Committee for Relief in Ireland, and he also served on the executive committee of the committee’s Illinois delegation. The prelate’s 1923 St. Patrick’s Day “story”, by then six months old, clearly was intended to give hope to Irish American Catholics, who had become disgusted and disillusioned with the civil war. His description of the two combatants seeking the intercessions of familiar Irish saints probably was overly greened malarkey, but certainly suited the occasion and the church.

The civil war ended two months later. Archbishop Mundelein was elevated to cardinal the following year. The finding guide of his archive lists a 1927 Christmas letter from de Valera to the prelate and an undated photo of the two of them. The archbishop died in 1939, four years after Monsignor Rogers. A newspaper obituary described the San Francisco priest as “a personal friend” of de Valera.[9]”Rogers Drops Dead”, Sacramento Bee, May 6, 1935.

You could say he once was in the room where it didn’t happen.

(See all the posts in my American Reporting of Irish Independence series.)

Chicago Tribune coverage of Archbishop George W. Mundelein’s St. Patrick’s Day address to the Ancient Order of Hibernians, left, and a photo of that day’s Mass at St. Patrick’s Church in Chicago. (See my 2019 photo essay of the Chicago church, including modern sanctuary.)

References

References
1 Mundelein Tells How Foes In Erin Knelt Together”, Chicago Tribune, March 18, 1923.
2 ”Declares De Valera Knelt With Mulcahy”, The New York Times, March 19, 1923; “De Valera a And Mulcahy Reported Friends Again”, Evening Star, Washington, D.C., March 19, 1923; “De Valera And Mulchy Meet And Pray Together For Peace And Protection In Ireland”, The Pittsburgh Catholic, March 29, 1923; “De Valera Meets And Prays With General Mulcahy”, The Catholic Advocate, Wichita, Kansas, March 31, 1923.
3 Mulcahy & De Valera, American Archbishop’s Statement”, Irish Examiner, March 20, 1923.
4 ”Praying Story Denied”, Belfast News-Letter, March 21, 1923.
5 ”Monsignor John Rogers Drops Dead At Funeral”, The Sacramento Bee, May 6, 1935.
6 ”Monsignor Rogers’ Part”, Irish Independent, March 13, 1923.
7 Eamon de Valera Papers P150, UCD Archives finding guide page 535.
8 ”De Valera Is Discouraged Over Affairs”, The Fresno (California) Morning Republican, Oct. 15, 1922.
9 ”Rogers Drops Dead”, Sacramento Bee, May 6, 1935.

‘Banshees of Inisherin’ & the Irish Civil War

The Banshees of Inisherin, a dark comedy about the estrangement of two friends living on a sparsely-populated Irish island, has received three Golden Globe awards and now appears favored to win a few Oscars. Colin Farrell won in the best comedy actor category, and the Martin McDonagh-directed film was honored as best comedy/musical and best screenplay. (Update: The movie was blanked at the Academy Awards.)

The fictional story, set in 1923, contains several references to the real life Civil War on the nearby mainland. The war started soon after Ireland won a measure of independence through a treaty with the United Kingdom. Ireland became a “free state” similar to Canada, not the full “republic” fought for in the Irish war of independence, 1919-1921. Separate legislation created the political partition of Ireland and Northern Ireland, which remained part of the U.K. The treaty split Irish brothers-in-arms into the civil war, which lasted from June 1922 to May 1923.

As Vox’s Alissa Wilkinson wrote, the feud between the two movie friends Colm (Brendan Gleeson) and Pádraic (Farrell) “works on its own terms, but it’s also a startlingly violent fight between men who are basically brothers, a fight that has a logic to it and yet is heartbreaking precisely because of the depth of history between them. It’s the conflict in microcosm.”

I would add two points:

1) The screenplay does not suggest that one of the friends is a republican “irregular” opposed to the treaty and the other a Free Stater who supported the deal. Their feud is personal, not political.

2) Pádraic says he doesn’t know what the fighting is about on the mainland. Though presented as a “dull” and uneducated character, this could be the film’s biggest fiction. When explosions and gun fire can be heard across the water, the island’s inhabitants surely understood what the fighting was about. We see regular boat service bring mail, supplies, and a priest to celebrate mass and hear confessions. The islanders are not that isolated.

  • Quick aside: the real life film locations are Achill Island, County Mayo, and Inishmore, one of the three Aran Islands, County Galway.

At one point in the movie Pádraic looks at the calendar and realizes it is April 1. He wonders if Colm’s coldness is a cruel April Fools’ Day joke. It is not. Using the date as a marker, I found this description of the civil war in that day’s 1923 issue of The Boston Globe:

Tragedy is still monarch in Ireland, more firmly enthroned today than ever before in the country’s distressful history. The daily chronicle is a repetitive catalogue of outrage and destruction, of executions and killings, differing only from the world horrifying reign of the English ‘Black and Tans’ in the fact that the perpetrators are now exclusively Irish, and that Ireland’s present day Calvary is inflicted not by foreign invaders but by her own sons and daughters. It is a heart-breaking, tear-compelling experience for an American, particularly one of Irish ancestry … The staccato of machine guns, the ping of rifles, the phut of revolvers, detonations of land mines and bombs, the glare of incendiary fires, with their toll of life and property have become as routine as the succession of day by night. Twenty-four hours without a series of destructive incidents or outrages would be regarded almost as epochal.[1]”Former Boston Journalist Wonders If Gov Al Smith Couldn’t Help Ireland Find Happy Bridge To Peace”, The Boston Globe, April 1, 1923.

Colin Farrell, left, and Brendan Gleeson.                                                                                            Searchlight Pictures  

References

References
1 ”Former Boston Journalist Wonders If Gov Al Smith Couldn’t Help Ireland Find Happy Bridge To Peace”, The Boston Globe, April 1, 1923.

A ‘quiet day’ in Ireland’s civil war, 1923

Irish Free State representatives and anti-Free State republicans early in January 1923 confronted each other over control of $2.5 million of bond funds raised in the United States. As the showdown unfolded at the the Irish consulate in New York City, some U.S. newspapers suggested the Irish civil war had to come to America. The “Battle of Nassau Street”[1]”Irish Picketing Hylan, Riot Call  From Consulate”, Daily News (New York City), Jan. 3, 1923. ended without violence after three days, but wrangling over the bonds continued until the 1930s.

In Ireland, the real civil war raged into its seventh month. U.S. papers detailed political efforts to resolve the internecine conflict and brief stories about episodes of violence. Denis O’Connell, an Irish-born correspondent for the Heart-owned Universal Service news wire, filed a Jan. 27, 1923, dispatch that attempted to give American readers a more comprehensive view of the suffering in Ireland, even on “quiet” days when there wasn’t “big news.” He described the shooting deaths and injuries to dozens of people, plus bombings, postal holdups, and railroad vandalism, with just a sentence or two devoted to each episode. O’Connell gave particular attention to the women “irregulars” fighting against the Free State government:

The soldiers do not search women in Dublin. Women frequently have thrown bombs in Dublin and used revolvers with deadly effect. Women have been caught in the mountains and wayside dugouts, shouldering rifles and sharing with the men all the hardships and exposure.

Partial clipping from the Jan. 28, 1923, issue of the Buffalo (N.Y.) Courier shows the top portion of the story’s two columns. This is not the full story.

O’Connell, a native of Cork city, was educated at the local Christian Brothers schools and began his career at the Cork Free Press. His coverage of the 1913 Dublin lockout caught the attention of the Heart-owned International News Service, which hired him as a London-based correspondent.[2]”Mr. Denis O’Connell” obituary, The Irish Press, May 18, 1949. The forename of his byline frequently appeared as “Daniel,” the same as Ireland’s 19th century “Liberator.” It’s unclear whether this was a pseudonym or garbled in the cable transmission. The byline appears both ways in multiple U.S. papers throughout the Irish revolutionary period.

O’Connell interviewed Éamon de Valera at his home in Dublin shortly after the Jan. 7, 1922, Anglo-Irish Treaty vote: ” ‘I am giving you the first authorized statement I have given to any press man since the beginning of the negotiations,’ said the Sinn Fein chieftain as he paced the floor. De Valera spoke carefully, slowly weighing every word before he uttered it.”[3]”New Regime Begins Rule For Ireland”, Oakland Tribune, Jan. 16, 1922; and “Mr. De Valera Interviewed”, Irish Examiner, Jan. 17, 1922.

Universal Service, which belonged to the Hearst empire in 1923, merged with International News in 1937. Other Irish and English journalists, based in Ireland and in England, worked for U.S. newspapers and wire services during the revolutionary period. O’Connell later became a correspondent for the Daily Express in Cork. He died in London in 1949.

References

References
1 ”Irish Picketing Hylan, Riot Call  From Consulate”, Daily News (New York City), Jan. 3, 1923.
2 ”Mr. Denis O’Connell” obituary, The Irish Press, May 18, 1949.
3 ”New Regime Begins Rule For Ireland”, Oakland Tribune, Jan. 16, 1922; and “Mr. De Valera Interviewed”, Irish Examiner, Jan. 17, 1922.

Ten Irish stories to watch in 2023

Happy New Year. Here are 10 stories to watch in 2023 in Ireland and Irish America:

  1. The 25th anniversary of the Good Friday Agreement is in April. Queens University Belfast plans to recognize the milestone, which certainly will draw American participation.
  2. Ongoing negotiations over the Brexit trade “protocol” between Northern Ireland, other parts of Great Britain, and the Republic of Ireland, remains a contentious issue that threatens peace in the province. Yea, it’s confusing. Here’s an explainer from the BBC.
  3. Resolving the protocol also is key to restoring the Northern Ireland Assembly, which the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) has blocked from operating since losing the majority to Sinn Féin in the May 2022 election. A new election is expected this spring.
  4. In addition to fixing the protocol and holding the election, the May coronation of King Charles III could have some impact on relations between unionists and nationalists in the North, if only symbolically. For perspective, Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation occurred 15 years before the start of the Troubles. Charles has already signaled his impatience with the DUP’s tactics.
  5. May also marks the 100th anniversary of the end of the Irish Civil War in what was then called the Irish Free State. This will be the conclusion of the 12-year-long “Decade of Centenaries,” which began in 2012 with remembrances of the introduction of the third home rule bill and signing of the Ulster Covenant. It has included the centenary of World War I, the 1916 Easter Rising, and the Irish War of Independence.
  6. U.S. President Joe Biden appears likely to travel to Ireland this year. His last visit was 2016 as vice president. In December, Biden named former U.S. Rep. Joe Kennedy III, grandson of the late U.S. Sen. Robert Kennedy, as special envoy to Northern Ireland to focus on economic development and investment opportunities.
  7. Irish tourism reached 73 percent of pre-pandemic levels in 2022, but industry officials are bracing for only single-digit growth or a potential decline in 2023. Full recovery to 2019 levels is not expected until 2026, the Irish Tourism Industry Confederation said.
  8. Met Éireann, the Irish weather service, says 2022 was the warmest year in Ireland’s history and the 12th consecutive year of above-normal temperatures. Climate change will continue to impact daily life, the economy, and politics on both sides of the border.
  9. Interim measures were announced last fall to sort out financial troubles at the American Irish Historical Society and Ireland’s Great Hunger Museum, in New York City and Connecticut, respectively. It’s worth keeping an eye on these important organizations to be sure both are fully restored.
  10. Finally, here’s something that will not happen on the island of Ireland in 2023: a reunification referendum. See the “North and South” package of polling and stories from The Irish Times.

Ballinskelligs, Co. Kerry.                                                                                                          Kevin Griffin via Fáilte Ireland.