newly emerging flying columns but his characteristic sense of duty prevented him, ‘It was Liam’s fate to be attached to organisational details when his kind and heart were out in the thick of conflict. During the Tan War his eyes turned longingly toward the “Flying Columns” in the hills of Ireland. But though he dallied with the idea of joining one of them, he recognised that his duty lay in the line his ability demanded – organisation – and he with a soldier’s heart, stifled his longing and “kept to his last.”’55
In his role as director of purchases, Mellows was technically responsible to Cathal Brugha as Minister for Defence in Dáil Éireann but the two men barely tolerated each other; as Flannery-Woods recalled, ‘Liam often told us that Cathal would sit all night with his mouth like a rat trap over a half crown if it went wrong.’56 Although Brugha was also an out-and-out militant and shared Mellows’ suspicion of politics, the former’s austere and dictatorial manner alienated him from the more affable Mellows. Ernest Blythe claimed Mellows ‘always complained of Cathal’s rigidity, of his stinginess with official funds, and of his crankiness, and gave me the impression that he found him a most difficult man to work with’.57
Mellows’ relationship with Michael Collins also soured at this time and Flannery-Woods admitted that despite their working relationship, the two men ‘were not in each other’s confidences’ with Mellows even refusing to share a safe house with Collins as he was ‘interfering with his job as Director of Purchases by buying arms across the water and paying more for them than he was. He was buying them, he said, not to use them but to prevent him from getting them.’58 Mellows’ resentment extended to the IRB, over which Collins retained immense personal sway, and he ceased attending meetings of the Brotherhood at the height of the independence struggle.59 In doing so, Mellows placed himself outside the influential circle of IRB devotees of Collins who were to give unstinting support to the new Free State in 1922.
The procuring of arms involved dealing with sympathisers among the Irish community in England and Scotland, as well as shady arms dealers and criminals with the constant danger of being exposed, double-crossed or robbed.60 Mellows was frequently forced to exert his authority over republican units in Glasgow and Liverpool, which met with mixed success. Seamus Reader, officer commanding the Scottish Brigade, was summoned to a meeting in Glasgow in May 1921 where Mellows grilled him over plans to liberate Frank Carty, Sligo republican leader, from the clutches of the police.61 Mellows argued against the plan on the basis that it would disrupt the supply of arms from the city by antagonising the authorities.62 Despite Mellows’ disapproval, the attack went ahead and one policeman was killed. In subsequent round-ups, the ‘IRB purchasing committee’ in Glasgow were arrested alongside hundreds of suspects, resulting in the capture of several arms dumps.63
Catastrophe: Civil War
The Anglo-Irish Treaty negotiated by Michael Collins and the Irish delegation in London in late 1921 and ratified by a majority of 64 to 57 in Dáil Éireann in January 1922 brought the War of Independence to a conclusion but split the Volunteers into opposing factions that were to descend into a civil war that lasted from June 1922 until April 1923.64 Mellows was never going to contemplate supporting any political settlement short of the republic proclaimed at Easter 1916 and no amount of political assurances or bonds of comradeship would induce him to compromise. Mellows remained outwardly convinced that reconciliation was possible between both sides of the divide, while as a member of the negotiating panel of officers from each side of the army and Dáil Éireann, brought together in April and May 1922, he resisted attempts to preserve the unity of the republican army under the control of the National Army leadership.
For the wider community, the debate over the Anglo-Irish Treaty was framed by the Catholic Church and regional and national newspapers as a choice between peace and a return to stability, or a resumption of guerrilla warfare and the return of the Crown Forces. For republicans, the Church hierarchy’s condemnation of the anti-Treaty forces contributed to a political situation in 1922 where it was not simply a choice between Collins or de Valera, or even war or peace, but, as Donegal republican Peadar O’Donnell claimed, ‘God versus the Republic’.65
The Civil War was never simply about the Anglo-Irish Treaty and whether it was a stepping stone to a republic or a compromise unworthy of the sacrifice of the republican dead. From late 1921, the approach of most experienced Volunteers to the emerging split was dictated by their personal allegiances to senior officers. A narrow focus on the rival political analysis of de Valera and Collins obscures the reality that the Treaty split was fundamentally a dispute within the republican army dictated by loyalties to regional commanders. Active republican districts commanded by powerful local leaders, particularly in the west and south, overwhelmingly endorsed the republican stance of senior anti-Treaty officers centred around Liam Lynch and Rory O’Connor in the spring of 1922, and a regional dimension to the conflict was apparent from the beginning. In this respect, the influence on ordinary Volunteers of the political rhetoric of Collins and de Valera was not as significant as one might assume. For Volunteers who had been through the worst of the fighting, in Cork, Tipperary, Mayo and elsewhere, Collins was a distant figure and the republican campaign was a profoundly local war. Rather than a centrally directed campaign, co-ordinated by the Volunteer leadership, the flying columns represented local enterprise and local sacrifice. The intensely parochial nature of the republican struggle was originally an asset but would be brutally exposed by the divisions that emerged in 1922.
Senior army officers opposed to the Anglo-Irish Treaty formed the ‘Military Council’ at the beginning of 1922 and notified the Minister for Defence, Richard Mulcahy, that they intended to hold an army convention representing the entire membership if one was not forthcoming within two months. Republicans intended to use the conference, which was stipulated under the Volunteers’ constitution, to reaffirm the army’s ‘allegiance to the Irish Republic’ under the command of an executive to be appointed by the convention.66 Republican officers believed the army could revert to its original status as a volunteer force and be relieved of its obligations to the Free State leadership, who they maintained, by adhering to the Anglo-Irish Treaty, had reneged on the republic declared at Easter Week.67 Despite tension, however, links between the two sides remained cordial and republican representatives Oscar Traynor and Ernie O’Malley were permitted to attend Free State Army meetings in a bid to foster unity.
Mutual suspicion characterised the republican leadership and anti-Treaty officers were divided by strategy, geography and personal loyalties. Ultimately, three options presented themselves: prioritise unity within the army and endeavour to devise a joint strategy with the Free State Army leadership; commit to a renewed military campaign against the remaining British forces in the hope that former comrades would rally to their support, unifying the army and re-igniting the independence struggle; finally, reject the authority and legitimacy of the Free State and seek to ‘defend’ the republic as declared in 1916 by imposing IRA authority on a democratically elected government. No formal republican strategy was ever agreed, however, and distrust within the anti-Treaty leadership deepened as the first six months of 1922 passed, accounting for the remarkable failure of the republican forces to devise a coherent strategy for war.
A core of experienced Cork officers representing the First Munster Division under Liam Lynch, including Sean Moylan, Liam Deasy and Tom Hales, believed that unity between the opposing sides of the army would be forthcoming and made genuine endeavours towards reconciliation with their Free State counterparts. This group represented by far the largest, best armed and most experienced division in the anti-Treaty Forces and their support would be crucial to any republican strategy. A second group of officers, centred around Rory O’Connor in Dublin, including Mellows, Joe McKelvey of Belfast and Ernie O’Malley of the Second Munster Division, and supported by the Western Divisions under Tom Maguire, Frank Barrett, Liam Pilkington and Michael Kilroy, objected to the peace manoeuvres of the Cork officers and repudiated their attempts at reconciliation. To complicate matters further, the crucial Fourth Northern Division under Frank Aiken, that covered North Louth, South Down and South Armagh, initially declared themselves neutral. In a further sign of fragmentation, Ernie O’Malley was forced to return to Tipperary in
