the arrest of another Irishman, Thomas Walsh, who, it was claimed, was carrying ‘secret correspondence’ allegedly written by Mellows pertaining to the activities of the IRB in Ireland and New York.41 The Gaelic American believed the whole affair to have been contrived to re-enforce the guilt of ‘General Mellows’, as the Secret Service described him, and ‘manufactured for the purpose of making a frame-up’.42 The claims prompted Mellows to send another refutation of the evidence being presented against him to the press, claiming he had ‘never in his life seen’ the documents.43 Decrying the whole affair as ‘an attempt to prevent President Wilson from bringing pressure to bear on England to make her consent to Irish Independence’, Clan na Gael condemned ‘the literary output of falsehoods’ produced by a ‘literary ignoramus’ for a ‘reckless nincompoop’.44
Mellows and McCartan finally had their day in Federal Court in May 1919 when they were tried for securing seamen’s passports under assumed names with both men pleading guilty. The judge took the view that the ‘seriousness of the offense depended on the purpose for which the papers were procured’.45 The men’s defence claimed the court could not undertake to punish the duo ‘for any supposed intention which they might have affecting the British Empire’ and denied they had any ‘intent to conspire against the laws of the United States’. Judge Billings Learned Hand agreed with the defence that the men could not be charged under the Espionage Act with any act against the interests of the United States and found them guilty of possession of false passports and released them both with a fine of $250. The affair drove a wedge between the Irish ‘exiles’ in New York and Irish-Americans in the Clan, with both factions increasingly suspicious of the other’s intentions.
The arrival of Éamon de Valera in the US as President of Dáil Éireann, in June 1919, heralded sixteen months of frantic activity for Mellows, accompanying Dev on his extensive speaking tour, often travelling ahead of the ‘Chief’ to make advance arrangements for his public meetings. The purpose of the trip was to generate much-needed funds for the revolutionary state established in January 1919 with the founding of Dáil Éireann and to secure political recognition from President Wilson’s US administration for Ireland’s declaration of independence. Despite failing to secure official recognition of the republic, the tour was a remarkable success in terms of generating millions of dollars, with de Valera hailed a hero at a succession of packed public meetings, the highlight being an address to fifty thousand people at Fenway Baseball Park, Boston, at the end of June. The Boston Globe captured the atmosphere of the occasion:
Such a reception as only the head of a Nation is accorded – and it is certain that only one who had the love, respect and confidence of the Irish people could get any such reception. To say that it was thrilling is putting it mildly – it was electric. The heart and head of the people of Irish blood were in it. In Éamon De Valera was personified the fulfilment of their hopes, and the very mystery which attaches to this man, who was comparatively unheard of until recently, somehow fulfilled the dreams of the race, that some great figure would arise at the crucial moment and lead Ireland to freedom.46
On a clandestine level, the tour took place in the midst of a sustained campaign of personal vilification of de Valera and his trusted lieutenants, Mellows, Patrick McCartan, Diarmaid Lynch and Harry Boland – all elected members of Dáil Éireann – by the old vanguard of Clan na Gael, centred around Devoy and his powerful ally Cohalan.47 The split ostensibly emerged after an interview with the Westminster Gazette, carried by the New York Globe in February 1920 in which Dev made an analogy between the relationship between Cuba and the US, and potential future relations between Ireland and Britain.48 Dev’s clumsy wording was seized upon by the Clan leadership as a fundamental withdrawal from the demand for Irish sovereignty and he was attacked in the Gaelic American newspaper. The feud was damaging and unnecessary and fuelled by egos on both sides, particularly those of Devoy and Cohalan, who resented Dev’s instant fame and his usurpation of the leadership of the Irish in America. The affair necessitated a hasty return to Ireland for Patrick McCartan who assured the Dáil Éireann cabinet ‘the trouble is purely one of personalities’.49 The fall-out from the episode saw Mellows further ostracised by the Clan and failing to find manual work, he was employed as a teacher of Irish and history in the Carmelite Priory in Manhattan. The Carmelites were to offer sanctuary from the turmoil and during his subsequent ill health, he recuperated at the Order’s seminary, St Albert’s College, Middletown. De Valera’s supporters went on to establish the American Association for the Recognition of the Irish Republic in Washington DC, in November 1920, as a means of circumventing the Clan’s controlling influence over the Friends of Irish Freedom.
Return: The War of Independence
On 10 October 1920, ‘Edward Moore’ disembarked at Southampton from the American vessel Philadelphia, on which he had worked the Atlantic crossing from New York as a stoker. ‘Moore’ was physically unsuited to the relentless labour, however, and took ten days to recover before departing for Ireland. Mellows, alias Edward Moore, had finally returned home after almost four unhappy years in exile, determined to make his mark on the burgeoning revolution. Mellows’ father died on 10 July, providing added impetus to his desire to return; Liam’s mother Sarah wrote, ‘Don’t grieve, never was there a more peaceful and happy death … He got a long glorious time with every possible attendance to fit and prepare him, that is all our consolation to know that he has died so happy a death and to the last his repeated saying was “keep Willie away or they’ll hang him like Casement.’”50
Mellows took lodgings at 131 Morehampton Road, the house of Mary Flannery-Woods and her husband Tony, a salubrious address nestled among the homes of the traditionally unionist upper-middle classes of South Dublin. Unknown to their neighbours, the Woods’ home was being used by Wexford TD Sean Etchingham as a safehouse and Mellows was to base himself there for the next eighteen months, developing a close bond with the family. With the War of Independence escalating and Crown Forces’ reprisals spiralling on a daily basis, the capacity of the republican leadership to adequately arm their active service units became problematic. The problem provoked a re-organisation of the Volunteer GHQ with James O’Donovan, a chemist, appointed director of chemicals, tasked with securing raw material for explosives; Sean Russell, as director of munitions, tasked with the manufacture of ammunition and bombs; and Mellows, as the new director of purchasing, charged with the sourcing and importation of arms and explosives.
The new roles were essentially complimentary and replaced the previously haphazard approach that was reliant on individual endeavour and a network of IRB contacts. Mellows’ new position demanded immense secrecy and it is unclear how successful he was, as a dire lack of weapons remained a serious problem with local units frequently reliant on their own ingenuity to arm themselves. As ever, however, Mellows threw himself into his new role with characteristic commitment; a comrade recalled, ‘Liam was plunged into a whirlwind of activity ranging not alone all over Ireland and England, but to Germany, where Robert Briscoe was buying automatics, Mauser rifles and ammunition, and when the truce came (he expected it to be short lived) he intensified his work.’51
Glasgow and Liverpool were the main ports of entry of arms into Ireland and to explain his frequent travels to suspicious customs officials, Mellows travelled under the name Anderson, and subsequently Nolan, posing as a respectable businessman, complete with dyed hair, moustache and a copy of the Times of London.52 Mary Flannery-Woods recalled that during the period he stayed at her home, Mellows rarely went to bed until 3 a.m. and with his associates ‘would talk till dawn which meant an hour or two hours sleep before another day’s work’.53 Cumann na mBan member Una Daly became Mellows’ secretary in June 1921 and remembered, ‘Mrs Woods’ house was an open house to everybody associated with the movement and there were people always coming in and out, sleeping and eating there at all hours. I don’t know how she fed all the people that came. Officially I had digs, but I slept often at Woods’ and I stayed up two whole nights typing work for Liam.’54
Mellows’ new role sat uneasily with him and his suitability for the appointment was probably assumed due to his previous experience in attempting, unsuccessfully, to import weapons to Ireland while in New York.
