First part of a ten book series of titles on the Military History of the Irish Civil War.
Battle For Limerick City descibes the full story of the vicious battle between Republican and Provisional Government forces for control of Limerick city in the early parts of the Civil War.
The Civil War arrived in Limerick with a whimper rather than a bang. Outnumbered and out-gunned, the pro-Treaty commander of the city, Michael Brennan, negotiated a truce with the Chief-of-Staff of the much stronger anti-Treaty force, Liam Lynch.
The benefit of this lull in fighting accrued almost entirely to the pro-Treaty side. They gained time for reinforcements and weaponry to arrive and when they did, the city because a battleground of extreme viciousness. Several buildings were shelled by 18-pounder guns at point blank range. The fighting around the Strand barracks was particulary heavy.
In this new book on the victory of the Free State troops in Limerick, Pádraig Ó'Ruairc offers a fresh perspective on the struggle that reduced the viability of the Republican's hoped for 'Munster Republic' and set the stage for the battle of Kilmallock, which turned the tide of the Civil War in favour of the pro-Treaty forces.
To see other books by Pádraig Óg Ó'Ruairc, click here.
EXTRACT
The Battle for Limerick City
Military History of the Irish Civil War
Pádraig Óg Ó Ruairc
Series Editor: Gabriel Doherty
Mercier Press, Cork
Contents
Chapter 1 The British Withdrawal
Chapter 2 Early Hostilities in Limerick
Chapter 3 The Outbreak of the Civil War
Chapter 4 The War comes to Limerick
Chapter 5 The Battle for Limerick
Chapter 6 The End of the Conflict in Limerick city
Appendix 1 Casualty Lists for Limerick, 11–21 July 1922
Appendix 2 Biographies
Foreword
It is a truism that the defining feature of the Irish Civil War was that it was, indeed, a war. That is, it is undeniable that the salient characteristic of life in Ireland between the attack on the Four Courts on 28 June 1922 and the ‘dump arms’ order issued to the IRA by its chief-of-staff, Frank Aiken, on 24 May 1923, was the existence of a state of (to quote but one, brief dictionary definition) ‘armed hostile conflict’, involving the use of destructive lethal force by belligerent parties. That it is necessary to draw attention to this apparently self-evident fact will be surprising to many, but some of the (very fine) scholarship on the subject of these seminal eleven months that has been produced over the last decade – focused as such writings have been on political developments or socio-psychological dimensions to the Treaty split – have, by accident or design, tended to elide this base-line fact. This omission does not, of course, make such works ‘wrong’; at worst it makes them incomplete – and bearing in mind Clausewitz’s mandatory dictum that war is simply the extension of politics by other means, a strong case might be made that the specifically martial aspects of the conflict are, indeed, of secondary importance. The lacuna, however, remains striking, and all the more so when one considers the numerous, and extremely welcome, publications on military aspects of the War of Independence that have appeared in the last two to three years (many of which, I am delighted to note, can be attributed to the industry and acumen of Mercier Press).
This omission is, of course, nothing new; on the contrary, it is entirely consistent with what went before – or, more accurately, what didn’t. One of the most insidious legacies of the Civil War was the want for decades of a dispassionate analysis of the causes, course, and consequences of its military aspects; not surprisingly, partisan accounts were, by way of contrast, plentiful and even more insidious. The reasons for this absence were numerous and entirely understandable. They include the determination of the Cumann na nGaedheal government to deny its enemies in the IRA the retrospective comfort of implied belligerent status; the bitterness of republicans at the memory of what was, after all, a crushing defeat; public aversion at the excesses perpetrated by both sides; and the general realisation that the cherished (if tenuous) unity of the ‘four glorious years’ had been lost forever, to the extent that it had meaningfully existed at all. Ground-breaking general studies by Calton Younger and Michael Hopkinson subsequently facilitated an atmosphere more conducive to evidence-based discussion, although both were handicapped (as, indeed, were researchers in many other fields of historical enquiry) by the failure of the state for many decades to open its archives to independent inspection. The eruption of violence in Northern Ireland in the late 1960s was another factor that helped to extend the shelf-life of Ireland’s Great Silence.
This new series, specifically examining the military aspects of the Civil War, is intended to address this obvious gap in modern Irish historiography. Covering all the principal local theatres, with an obvious focus on the battle for Munster where the majority of the fighting took place, each volume will discuss the fighting strength and tactics of the opposing forces, and focus as much on the human dimensions to the combat (in terms of death, injuries and personal experiences) as on the political and strategic significance of each engagement. Taken collectively they will offer innovative insights into a topic that has been hidden in plain view for too long.
In your hands you hold the first volume to appear in the series. It focuses on the fight for Limerick, a city not unused to military engagements or unfamiliar with disputed treaties, and a veritable cockpit of republican enmities in the spring of 1922. It is a story by turns suspenseful, awful and heart-rending, and is adroitly narrated by the author, Pádraig Óg Ó Ruairc. It is a fine point of departure for a series that will, I believe, capture the wide audience it merits.
Gabriel Doherty
Department of History
University College Cork
Chapter 1
The British Withdrawal
The remaining light was fading on a dreary February evening in Limerick city as a British army sentry from the Royal Welch Fusiliers stood high above the River Shannon on the walls of King John’s Castle. He watched with disinterest as the carefree townspeople sauntered across Thomond bridge below him in twos and threes. There was no haste, no clatter of hobnailed boots on cobblestones; the passers-by seemed at ease. Soft footsteps tapping on stone in the twilight. Young lovers wandered out on their evening walk, arm in arm, passing the city’s workers who shared cigarettes on their way home, nosily debating the merits of each pub in an effort to decide which one they should call to until some ‘wag’ finished the argument by loudly declaring they should have a drink in each one. On the north bank of the Shannon smart comments and biting insults were hurled at the passers-by from a group of corner boys sitting at the foot of the Treaty Stone. Occasionally these reached the soldier’s ears from across the river and he gave a wry smile when he managed to hear enough of the joke. For once he enjoyed the fact that the insults of the townspeople were not reserved for himself and his comrades.
The soldier hooked the canvas sling of his Lee Enfield rifle with the thumb of his right hand, readjusting the weapon to a more comfortable position on his shoulder. Then he unbuttoned the left breast pocket of his uniform tunic and withdrew a cigarette. He pressed a match against the Castle’s ancient stones, but he paused for a moment when a thought suddenly struck him. Years of experience in the trenches of the First World War and on patrol in Ireland had taught him that the flare of a match was enough to draw the attention of an enemy sniper. Still motionless he considered the prospect. There was peace in Ireland now, but a very uneasy peace. Only the week before the IRA had shot dead a Scottish Black and Tan named McEdward in Garryowen, and just two months before that the IRA had assassinated an RIC sergeant in Kilmallock named Enright. Republican breaches of the ceasefire were becoming more and more common.
Finally, having weighed up the odds, he decided that it was unlikely there were any IRA gunmen lurking in the shadows, he struck the match, raised it to the cigarette and braced his back against the wall to enjoy his smoke. Soon he would be back home on leave or in a quieter posting free from such cares.
Seven hundred years before when the British colonisation of Ireland began, Norman crossbow men would have stood at the same place on the Castle walls on sentry duty. But now, after centuries of struggle, rebellion and war the 2nd Battalion of the Royal Welch Fusiliers would be the last British troops to occupy the Castle. For over two years, from 1919 to 1921, the Irish Republican Army had waged a guerrilla campaign against the might of the British Empire, the largest empire the world had ever seen. The republicans had fought a long and hard campaign against the British army, the Royal Irish Constabulary, the Black and Tans and the RIC Auxiliaries and had brought the British military machine in Ireland to a standstill. On 11 July 1921, a truce had come into effect between the IRA and British forces. Five months later, on 5 December 1921, a peace treaty had been signed between the British government and representatives of the rebel Irish government. Now, in 1922, British forces were slowly being withdrawn from their barracks in the south of Ireland to be replaced by groups of Irishmen.
The final draft of the Treaty contained eighteen articles. Articles 1 and 2 gave the Irish Free State, comprising twenty-six of the thirty-two counties of Ireland, the same constitutional status as Canada, Australia and the other dominion states. Under Article 3, the British king would be represented in Ireland by a governor general appointed in the same way as the Canadian governor general. Article 4 of the Treaty set out the oath of allegiance to be taken by all members of the Irish parliament. It read:
I … do solemnly swear true faith and allegiance to the Constitution of the Irish Free State as by law established, and that I will be faithful to His Majesty King George V, his heirs and successors by law, in virtue of the common citizenship of Ireland with Great Britain and her adherence to and membership of the group of nations forming the British Commonwealth of Nations.
Article 5 covered the amount of the British war debt that would be paid by the Irish Free State. Article 6 dealt with defence and under its provisions the British military would have permanent naval bases at Cobh, Berehaven and Lough Swilly, and would be given additional bases and military facilities in times of war. Article 10 ensured that the Irish Free State would pay pensions to former British civil servants who had been stationed in Ireland. Pensions would also be paid to the RIC, with the exception of members of the force recruited in Britain. Articles 11 to 15 detailed the position of Northern Ireland.
In theory the Free State was to take over the functions of the British government for ruling the six counties under the Government of Ireland Act unless the unionist parliament at Stormont voted to remain within the United Kingdom. In that event the border between ‘Northern’ and ‘Southern’ Ireland would be drawn up by a boundary commission consisting of three members, one each appointed by the Free State, Northern Irish and British governments. Article 16 forbade either the Free State or Northern Irish governments to give special treatment to any religion. Finally the British government would hand over control of the twenty-six counties of Southern Ireland to a provisional government made up of existing Irish MPs.
The issue of whether to accept or reject this Treaty split Dáil Éireann – the rebel Irish government, Sinn Féin, the IRA, Cumann na mBan and all previously united republican organisations. Those who argued in favour of the Treaty claimed that while it did not deliver the republic they had struggled and suffered for since 1916, it was a fair compromise and realistically the most power and independence that they could get from the British government at the time. The Treaty guaranteed the removal of British forces from most of Ireland and that the British flag would no longer be flown over the war-weary populace in the south, many of whom saw it as a symbol of oppression at this time. Supporters of the Treaty claimed that the oath of allegiance to the British king was merely a formality and that they had forced the British negotiators to accept a very weak form of oath. At last the Irish people would have a government recognised by the British, their own army, state and flag. They would have control of their own economic affairs and the Free State would control its own courts, its own justice system and could establish its own police force.
Most of those who accepted the Treaty also felt that partition of Northern Ireland was merely a temporary measure and that the boundary commission would ultimately deliver so much territory to the Free State that the remaining area would be too small to be viable. This, they hoped, would result in the northern unionists taking the option to join the Free State, ultimately delivering a United Ireland. Many thought there was no alternative other than continuing the war with Britain, and they believed the Treaty would bring about a permanent peace. While the new Free State would not deliver them the ultimate freedom they longed for, it gave them the possibility of what Michael Collins called ‘the freedom to achieve freedom’. According to Robert Barton, a member of the Irish government who had signed the Treaty:
Collins looked upon the Treaty as being, as he said, a stepping stone to complete independence. He believed in accepting it, working it as far as it suited us and doing what has happened since, using it as a means of getting more.3
Opposing them, the republicans poured scorn on the Treaty and its supposed freedoms. They considered it a betrayal of everything they had fought for and an insult to the hundreds who had given their lives in that cause since 1916. They refused to swear an oath of loyalty to a foreign monarch and would rather continue the fight to become citizens of a fully independent Irish Republic than live as subjects of a foreign king within the British Empire. They regarded the establishment of the Free State and granting of dominion status as little more than a glorified form of Home Rule. They argued that the Irish Republic had been declared in 1916 and confirmed by the results of the 1918 general election, the establishment of Dáil Éireann and its ratification of the declaration of Independence in 1919.
To them the republic already existed and no treaty or government assembly could ever abolish the established right of the Irish people to complete independence. They had sworn allegiance to the republic and were prepared to die to defend it. They saw partition as a permanent political and social evil which would leave their northern comrades at the mercy of a hostile unionist population and British forces. They had no faith in a boundary commission and knew the partition of the six Ulster counties with the highest unionist majority, ensured that gerrymandering would be engrained in Northern Ireland for years to come and that a unionist government would always be returned; a government certain to reject any plans for Irish unification. They saw partition as an unnatural division of Ireland pandering to a unionist minority – not just a minority within Ireland but a minority within the nine counties of Ulster as well. Republicans could also not stomach the fact that Irish taxpayers were now expected to pay the pensions of RIC and Irish recruits to the Black and Tans, who had terrorised the Irish people at the behest of a foreign government.
The Treaty represented a compromise for the British that would allow them to end their involvement in an unpopular war which was costing the state up to £20 million a year, as well as damaging their international reputation. They needed a settlement that they could claim was a victory over the republicans, keeping Ireland as part of the British Empire, while at the same time allowing them to withdraw their forces from Ireland without losing face. The terms of the Treaty allowed them to achieve this.
During the Truce period Pádraig Ó Fathaigh, an IRA volunteer with the Mid Clare Brigade, had returned to his native Galway and foresaw that the question of accepting or rejecting the Treaty with Britain would lead to civil war:
The Auxiliary officer Br–– who shot Father Griffin spoke the truth when he said to Miss Walshe that there would be a slaughter of Sinn Féiners soon and when she said, ‘That cannot be as ye are going’, he replied, ‘It’s no joke, the Sinn Féiners will slaughter each other. It is all arranged and you will find that what I say is true.’4
On 7 January Dáil Éireann voted by sixty-four votes to fifty-seven in favour of the Treaty. After the vote de Valera resigned as president and republican TDs withdrew from the assembly in protest. De Valera was replaced by Arthur Griffith, who appointed a new cabinet with Michael Collins as minister for finance, Richard Mulcahy as minister for defence, William T. Cosgrave as minister for local government and Kevin O’Higgins as minister for economic affairs. Under the terms of the Treaty, the Irish Free State was to come into existence on 6 December 1922, the first anniversary of the signing of the Treaty. Until the Free State was established, the British government would hand over power in stages to a Provisional Government elected by the parliament of ‘Southern Ireland’ under the terms of the Government of Ireland Act. In reality the ‘southern’ parliament consisted of the members of the Dáil, including the four unionist TDs representing Trinity College who had refused to attend Dáil Éireann. The Provisional Government met a week later on 14 January 1922 and elected Michael Collins as its chairman.
Following the Dáil vote on the Treaty, senior IRA officers who opposed the Treaty’s acceptance and its implementation held a series of talks. As a result of these Liam Lynch proposed that the IRA would revert to its original status prior to 1919, as an army of committed unpaid volunteers under the control of an elected executive. The entire IRA would be represented on this executive, regardless of their views on the Treaty. This would have two main results. Firstly it would halt the influx of ‘Trucileers’, men who had swollen the ranks of the IRA after the Truce, either in hope of financial gain now that some IRA members were being paid as soldiers in a semi-professional army, or who sought to bask in the glory of the organisation even though they had played no part in the fight against the British. Secondly it would refocus the IRA on maintaining army unity and hopefully find a way of securing a fully independent Irish Republic. In order to make this change a convention had to be held for the election of an executive as soon as possible. This convention would also give the membership of the IRA a chance to ratify or reject the Treaty. With the exception of the IRA’s 4th Northern Division under the command of Frank Aiken, who had adopted a neutral stance, all IRA units agreed to hold a convention in March. In addition Richard Mulcahy, minister for defence in the Provisional Government, gave a personal assurance that the existing Irish army, both the anti-Treaty units that continued as the Irish Republican Army and the pro-Treaty units that were beginning to form the new Free State army, would be maintained for the defence of the Irish Republic.
With the formation of the Provisional Government in January, the British army began to withdraw from their barracks throughout the twenty-six counties. Some returned home to Britain, while others were transferred north across the border to reinforce the unionist government. As the British forces withdrew, their former barracks were taken over by both pro-Treaty and anti-Treaty units of the IRA. Each IRA unit moved into the evacuated barracks in their area regardless of their political loyalties on the issue of the Treaty. The first barracks to be evacuated by the British was Beggars Bush in Dublin, which was taken over by pro-Treaty members of the Dublin Brigade IRA. The Provisional Government wanted to make sure that the men looked well for the occasion and sent their pro-Treaty troops to the Co-Op Tailors in Abbey Street to be fitted for new green uniforms. The political split between the pro-Treaty and anti-Treaty IRA units became clearly visible with the pro-Treaty men wearing their new green uniforms. The British army handed over Beggars Bush barracks to the Dublin Brigade of the Free State army on 31 January 1922. As the British soldiers withdrew, a British army officer, Lieutenant Bevin, was shot at by an IRA sniper as he was riding a motor cycle. The IRA sniper’s bullet passed through his jacket but he was not injured. This incident made it clear that the republicans did not regard the Treaty as a final settlement with the British.
Tensions grew between the IRA and the new Free State army, leading to armed clashes, as both jostled to take the military advantage. The competition to take over local barracks as the British army and RIC withdrew, became part of this struggle all over the country.
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