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ОглавлениеCHAPTER THREE
IRA Activities
After his service in the Great War, Emmet Dalton returned home to a very different Ireland. The movement for Irish independence was gaining momentum. Following the suppression of the Easter Rising, the Volunteers had been re-formed and Dalton’s younger brother Charlie had joined in December 1917. He became a member of F Company, 2nd Battalion in Dublin, at only fourteen years of age. He would later, with boyish pride, come to possess his own personal weapon – a German-made Mauser pistol which Emmet had brought home as a souvenir.1 Charlie grew more deeply involved in the movement as part of the IRA’s intelligence operations overseen by Michael Collins. Emmet would also be drawn into republican activities.
It was a time of political turmoil. The separatist Sinn Féin movement rejected the Westminster parliament and instead set up an independent Irish legislative assembly. The party had won a strong majority in the December 1918 general election, and on 21 January 1919 the Sinn Féin elected representatives (Teachtaí Dála – TDs) met in Dublin as the first Dáil Éireann. Later in the year, the British would seek to suppress the assembly. On the very day that the first Dáil met, what are generally seen as the first shots of the War of Independence were fired in Soloheadbeg, County Tipperary. A group of IRA men led by Dan Breen and Sean Treacy shot dead two members of the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC) during an operation to seize gelignite being escorted by the armed policemen. It was claimed that the constables had resisted. In a statement to the BMH, Breen said: ‘Treacy had stated to me that the only way to start a war was to kill someone, and we wanted to start a war, so we intended to kill some of the police whom we looked upon as the foremost and most important branch of the enemy forces which were holding the country in subjection.’2
On his return to Dublin, Emmet had resumed his studies. With the aid of a military education grant he studied engineering for about a year at the Royal College of Science. He also worked for a period as a temporary clerk with the Office of Public Works.3 Return from the war also gave him the opportunity to pursue his sports interests. He joined Bohemians soccer club, located in Phibsboro not far from his Dublin home, and played with the club for a season.
In early 1920 Charlie Dalton was asked to join the IRA’s GHQ Intelligence Unit, reporting to Liam Tobin, Deputy Director of Intelligence, at an office in Crow Street, Dublin. It was to be the beginning of a notable association with Tobin over the following years. His duties were outlined to him by the Assistant Director of Intelligence, Tom Cullen, who was in daily touch with the Director, Michael Collins.4 Dalton’s role included tracing the activities of enemy agents and spies, establishing contacts among individuals in government service, keeping files on intelligence targets and participating in active service operations arising out of intelligence gathering. One of the central aims of the Intelligence Department was to intercept government and crown forces’ communications.
In October 1920 Charlie Dalton and another Volunteer opened fire on British soldiers who were deployed at Binn’s Bridge in his home area of Drumcondra as part of a cordon. Dalton wanted to disrupt the cordon to allow Volunteers returning from an operation in the city centre to get through. Two soldiers were killed, while he and his colleague escaped along a railway embankment and emerged from it close to his home at Upper St. Columba’s Road. Later that evening Charlie was on his way home when he spotted a passing touring car with a number of men in plain clothes. He was astonished to see the car pull up in front of his house. When they could not find Charlie they arrested Emmet instead, although it appears his detention was only temporary. No doubt his discharge papers showing he had been a British officer in the Great War proved useful. Charlie believed a neighbour saw him coming down from the railway and tipped off the authorities.5 Because of the raid, Charlie thought it advisable to stay away from home. The attack resulted in the Dalton family, including Emmet, coming to the attention of the authorities.
Bloody Sunday
As a member of Michael Collins’s intelligence staff, Charlie Dalton was one of the Volunteers closely involved in gathering information on British intelligence officers living at boarding houses, flats and hotels around Dublin. It was a period when Collins was becoming increasingly concerned about what he saw as a major threat from the British secret service. It was decided to launch a pre-emptive strike against members of a group known as the ‘Cairo Gang’. Collins chose 9 am on 21 November 1920 as the moment to strike, targeting addresses across the city, in a day that would go down in history as Bloody Sunday. Members of Collins’s special unit, the Squad, were deployed with Volunteers from the Dublin Brigade. Charlie Dalton was only seventeen years old at the time, an impressionable youth, and he would later recall his great anxiety in advance of the operation. The night before the raids, Charlie shared a hideout with a number of other Volunteers, including future Taoiseach Sean Lemass. Lemass, who participated in the Bloody Sunday shootings, believed that these activities affected Charlie’s nerves.
Charlie was not one of the men who would actually pull the trigger on the day – he was sent to gather up any documents relating to intelligence. He accompanied the gunmen to a house at 28 Upper Pembroke Street where men were to be shot. Charlie had played a particular role in gathering advance information to help target the doomed officers by befriending a young woman who worked as a servant in the house. Two officers were shot dead and four wounded, one of whom died the following December. The memory of the shootings would remain with Charlie. Altogether fourteen members of British intelligence, or suspected members, were shot dead in Dublin that morning. It would later emerge that not all were intelligence officers. Some were shot in their pyjamas or in the presence of their wives. On the afternoon of the Bloody Sunday killings, in revenge for the massacre, the Auxiliaries fired on the crowd at a match in Croke Park, killing ten and injuring about sixty, four of whom later died. In Dublin Castle, two IRA prisoners, Dick McKee and Peadar Clancy, as well as a young man Conor Clune, who was not involved in the IRA, were killed. The classic excuse was given, that they were ‘shot while trying to escape’. In nationalist Ireland, nobody believed it.
After the assassination of the British officers, Charlie Dalton was in a state of great nervous agitation. One of his colleagues Matty McDonald said Charlie could not sleep on the night of Bloody Sunday: ‘He thought he could hear the gurgling of the officers’ blood and he kept awake all night until we told him a tap was running somewhere.’6 Sean Lemass was present and was also concerned about Charlie’s state. In later life Charlie Dalton was a very troubled man, and experienced persistent mental health problems that required spells in hospital under psychiatric care. Emmet attributed Charlie’s troubles to his youthful involvement with the Squad.
Raid on the Dalton Home
In early December, in the wake of the Bloody Sunday killings, there was another raid on the Dalton home. In his memoir, Charlie gave an account of the raid as told to him by his mother.7 It was after midnight, and everyone in the household had gone to bed. Lorries could be heard coming up the road and then a loud knocking on the door. Emmet went down to answer the door. There was a sound of men charging up the stairs. The door to the bedroom of Mr and Mrs Dalton burst open and about a dozen men entered the room. They began searching the room and throwing questions at the couple. They were looking for Charlie. Mr Dalton said, ‘Do you know who I am?’ He informed the raiding party, a mixture of Auxiliaries and military officers, that he was a Justice of the Peace. They did not seem impressed. They took away James F. Dalton and Emmet. Mrs Dalton spent the next couple of days trying to establish the whereabouts of her husband and son. Eventually she found they had been taken to Collinstown Aerodrome north of Dublin for questioning. Emmet later recalled that as he and his father were being taken away, the Auxiliaries fired a couple of shots in the air. His father had a habit of blowing his nose loudly and now proceeded to do so – apparently as a signal to his wife that he was alright, that he had not been shot.8
Prisoners arrested after raids or by military night patrols were often processed at a detention centre at Collinstown. An IRA man who was being held there, Joseph Lawless, who would later serve as an officer in the National Army during the Civil War, recalled two of the prisoners to whom they were introduced in this way – one was Emmet Dalton, and the other Peadar Kearney, who wrote the lyrics for The Soldier’s Song (Amhrán na bhFiann) which became Ireland’s National Anthem. Dalton apparently secured his release by a plea of mistaken identity and a display of his British Army discharge papers.9
The British intelligence officers in Dublin Castle began compiling a file on Emmet. According to this file, Emmet and his father were arrested on 9 December and released on 18 December. ‘Dagger, bayonet, helmet and seditious documents were found in the house when they were arrested,’ the file stated.10 However, no charges were brought against the two. Apart from the documents, the items listed may well have been war souvenirs brought back to Ireland by Emmet. The elder Dalton’s status as a Justice of the Peace and Emmet’s service to the British empire in the Great War may have helped to secure their release. It appears from the intelligence file that while the British were aware of Charlie’s intelligence activities their information was limited. The file noted: ‘Either this man [Emmet] or his brother Charles, who is believed to be an IRA Secret Service man, was with a Flying Column.’ The file added: ‘Sister a courier.’ This may be a reference to Nuala who was aged only seven at the time.
While in detention, James F. Dalton acted as ‘Chaplain’ to the other prisoners by leading the Rosary. Emmet made use of his military training to drill his fellow-prisoners. They were both incensed over being detained. Emmet would later tell, with some amusement, how his father’s role as ‘Chaplain’ was short-lived. They were placed in a hut with up to eighteen other men, and on the first night the Volunteer in charge called for night prayers and everyone knelt down and said their prayers before going to bed. The next day Dalton senior asked if he, as the older man, could give out the prayers and this was agreed. That night he proceeded to give out the rosary, with a homily on each mystery. This was clearly too much for detainees who were delayed in going to bed – they just wanted to get to sleep. The next day some of the hut inmates got together and it was decided that in future the prayers would be given out in Irish. As James F. Dalton did not have the language, he was excluded from leading the prayers, much to the relief of inmates. It was a diplomatic way of dealing with the problem.11
It was unusual for a duo with such a respectable background, a JP and his war hero son who had served as a British Army officer, to be pulled in for questioning. The Irish Independent reported the arrests with the headline ‘Ex-Army Captain and J.P. Arrested’.12 When Charlie Dalton reported on the raid on his family home to Liam Tobin, the Deputy Director of Intelligence, Tobin told him he already knew all about it. Tobin and Michael Collins and one or two staff officers happened to be spending the night in a house overlooking the Dalton residence, and observed the raid and all the commotion. As a result they had a rather sleepless night, with the enemy so close at hand.13
Training the IRA
In late 1920 Emmet Dalton became involved in training the IRA. Oscar Traynor, Commander of the Dublin Brigade, was seeking to improve the level of training in the Volunteers. J.J. ‘Ginger’ O’Connell was Director of Training but he had also been appointed Assistant Chief of Staff, and found it difficult to give enough time to the training role. O’Connell, who had served in the US armed forces, asked Traynor to keep an eye out for somebody who could replace him as Director of Training. Charlie Dalton had been telling Traynor of the outstanding abilities of his brother Emmet who had fought in the British Army all through the Great War and who was sympathetic to the Volunteers. A newspaper profile written in the summer of 1922 suggested that Dalton had to ‘fight his way’ into the movement, owing to the reluctance of senior leaders to accept a former officer in the British Army, though they quickly recognized his resourcefulness.14 The fact that Emmet already had a brother active in the Volunteers may have helped dispel any lingering doubts about his bona fides.
Traynor asked Charlie to bring in Emmet for an interview. It was not unknown for Irishmen who had fought for the British in the Great War to throw in their lot with the Volunteers, the West Cork guerrilla leader Tom Barry being a notable example. When Emmet Dalton came in for interview, Traynor asked him if he would be prepared to give a series of lectures to members of the Dublin Brigade. He replied he would be willing to do so.
He began lecturing members of different battalions, with map-reading one of the areas covered. One of those he encountered during this work was his former school friend, Sean Lemass. O’Connell attended some of the lectures and reported back that he was impressed by Dalton’s abilities.15 Dalton became Assistant Director of Training in the IRA General Headquarters staff, and later assumed the role of Director of Training, around June 1921. Meanwhile, he dropped out of his engineering course, and also left his temporary job in the Office of Public Works. Dalton’s previous military experience had included roles as an instructor, which made him a valuable addition to the GHQ staff. O’Connell introduced him to various senior figures in the Volunteers, including the Chief of Staff, Richard Mulcahy. He got to know Piaras Béaslaí, the editor of the Volunteers’ journal, An t-Óglach, and in February 1921 helped him secure an office on North Great George’s Street. A disadvantage was that the room could only be used during the day – by night it was used for dancing classes.16
A young Volunteer, Gerald Davis, attended lectures by Dalton. In early 1921 IRA Headquarters asked for volunteers to go down the country as organizers. The Headquarters staff particularly desired to use students for this work. Davis was at the National University in Dublin and he and other students in the movement offered their services. They were interviewed by senior IRA figures Dick Mulcahy and Oscar Traynor and instructed to attend a series of lectures in a building somewhere near Amiens Street. Among those who lectured them were Emmet Dalton and his brother Charlie, Ernie O’Malley, ’Ginger’ O’Connell and Rory O’Connor. The lectures covered ‘guerilla warfare, engineering, the construction of land mines and the use of arms and so forth’. The course involved about a week of lectures.17
Apart from his expertise in giving lectures to Dublin Brigade personnel, Emmet Dalton assumed another useful role as impersonator of a British Army officer. Shortly after taking up his lecturing duties, there was a raid on the brigade headquarters. The building, sometimes known as the Plaza Hotel, was located at 6 Gardiner’s Row (now known as Gardiner Row), which also housed the offices of the Irish Engineering, Electrical, Shipbuilding and Foundry Trade Union. Oscar Traynor, Christopher ‘Kit’ O’Malley, Adjutant, and Dalton were all present in the HQ office. It was located in an area of the building which, they hoped, would not be found by the troops, but they had no guarantee that their hideaway would remain undetected. They had hidden away their papers and were waiting for the troops to burst in, when Dalton suggested that the best thing to do was to go down and ‘brazen it out’. With Dalton leading the way, they went down to the hallway where Dalton talked first to a soldier, and then to an officer, and the two got to the stage of laughing.18 Eventually Dalton said to his companions, ‘Come along, men’ and they left the building and proceeded on their way, only to be held up by soldiers at the corner of nearby Findlater’s Church. Again, Dalton talked to a British officer and they were passed safely through the cordon. Traynor later described how Dalton, because of his general appearance, deceived the British officers into believing that he also was a British officer, engaged on work about which the least said the better. Traynor commented: ‘There can be little doubt that, due to Dalton’s presence, we managed to evade arrest on that occasion.’19
As he became more involved with the IRA, Dalton was living away from home, effectively on the run. For a period he lay low in the secluded, scenic environs of Howth, County Dublin, beside the sea, with other IRA members such as Tom Flood and Christopher O’Malley. At some stage in 1921, while the War of Independence was still in progress, Dalton made a return journey to O’Connell School where he met Brother Allen. According to a story told by Brother Allen in later life, Dalton said he had a particular favour to ask of the Brother – he wanted a place to store a ton of coal.20 He said his father and mother, unknown to each other, had each ordered a ton of coal and they had no space to store the extra fuel. Brother Allen agreed to help. Dalton duly delivered the ton of coal, in sacks, and it was stored in the basement furnace area of the school, separate from the Brothers’ coal. Subsequently, Dalton returned to take away the coal. Then an extraordinary thing happened – there was a raid by the British on O’Connell’s, and members of the raiding party went straight to the furnace area to search it. Brother Allen later learned that the sacks contained not just coal, but sticks of gelignite, which Dalton was hiding away for the IRA. Apparently, Brother Allen had a theory that the coal was removed after Dalton got a tip about the upcoming raid from one of Michael Collins’s informants in Dublin Castle.
Dalton Escorts Unionist Leader James Craig to See De Valera
It was a period when Emmet Dalton was called on to carry out special tasks for the movement. In early May 1921 he was deployed for a particularly sensitive operation to escort Unionist leader, Sir James Craig, on a secret visit to see Dáil President Éamon de Valera at a private house in a north Dublin suburb. This was several weeks before the Truce that would bring a formal end to hostilities in the War of Independence. Craig showed particular courage in undertaking the visit. In coming to Dublin he was entering what some Unionists would have seen as the lion’s den. The meeting between the two men was arranged by a senior British official in Dublin Castle, Alfred ‘Andy’ Cope, acting with the blessing of British Prime Minister Lloyd George. He was opening lines of communication with senior Irish republicans to find an end to the conflict. Cope secured a guarantee from Sinn Féin of a ‘safe conduct’ for Craig as he went to see de Valera.
Craig and his wife came to Dublin without any escort and stayed at the Private Secretary’s Lodge in the Phoenix Park. On the morning of 6 May, Cope drove Craig to the home of a leading judge, Sir James O’Connor, on Northumberland Road. Here he was met by the prominent Sinn Féin priest, Father Michael O’Flanagan. According to Craig’s later account, two Sinn Féiners, ‘armed to the teeth’, suggested he accompany them to an unnamed location where de Valera was waiting to see him. Craig set off in a car with the two men and a driver, and he would later describe them as ‘three of the worst looking toughs I have ever seen’.21
Emmet Dalton would later confirm that he himself was one of the men who escorted Craig on this secret trip to see Dev. However, Dalton’s military style moustache and officer-style bearing hardly qualified him as a villainous ‘tough’. In an account given to historian Calton Younger, Dalton said he sat in the car beside Craig and advised him to pass himself off as his secretary if they were stopped by Crown forces. In the event of trouble, Craig would be ‘first to go’. Many years later, Dalton expressed admiration for Craig’s courage.22
Another member of the escort was a young republican, Sean Harling, who worked for Dáil Éireann. He usually helped organize the logistics and security arrangements when President Éamon de Valera received VIP visitors or journalists from abroad. In testimony to the Bureau of Military History, Harling does not mention Dalton in connection with the Craig trip, but identified Joe Hyland as the driver of the car.23 A taxi-driver, Hyland, was Michael Collins’s ‘wheelman’, and well-used to clandestine operations.
According to the account given by Craig’s biographer, St. John Ervine, the car carrying the Unionist leader stopped en route at a canal bridge, and Craig was asked to alight. A barge was passing under the bridge, and Craig inquired, no doubt facetiously, if the journey was to continue by water. In fact they were changing to another car on the other side of the bridge – probably as a security precaution. St. John Ervine states that Craig thought he was being driven to County Wicklow, and suggests he was taken by a roundabout route so that he would not know his actual location. However, Harling in his Witness Statement, states that Craig asked him, while they were passing through the north Dublin suburb of Clontarf, would it be indiscreet of him to inquire where he was now. ‘So I said, “No Sir, you are in Clontarf.” He said, “Oh, this is where King Brian [Boru] fought the Danes.”’
Craig was brought to a house called Belvidere, on the Howth Road, Clontarf, occupied by a solicitor, Tom Green. This was the ‘safe house’ where de Valera was waiting to receive his visitor. It was a large, luxurious, detached residence set in spacious gardens. Craig’s biographer says the Unionist leader saw a number of men with picks and shovels ‘pretending’ to repair the road outside the house, but who were clearly ‘guarding’ de Valera. St. John Ervine describes how the ‘three toughs’, followed by Craig, entered the house and met de Valera standing on the threshold of the sitting room. This may have been Dalton’s first meeting with Dev, whom Dalton would later come to despise, considering him the prime cause of Ireland’s Civil War.
While a meeting between the leaders of two opposing traditions on the island of Ireland was in itself a positive development, there was little immediate result from the encounter between Craig and de Valera. According to Craig’s later account to his wife, de Valera began to talk, reaching the eleventh-century era of Brian Boru after ‘a half hour’, and after another half hour, the era of ‘some king a century or two later’. ‘By this time I was getting tired, for de Valera hadn’t begun to reach the point at issue. Fortunately, a fine Kerry Blue entered the room and enabled me to change the conversation…’24 M.J. MacManus, who wrote a sympathetic biography of de Valera, had a different version of events, saying that de Valera had to do almost all the talking because Craig said so little: ‘De Valera welcomed the opportunity for an exchange of views, but found that he had to do most of the talking. The dour Northerner was a man of few words. He lit his pipe and smoked and listened. De Valera gave him some geography, a certain amount of economics, and quite a lot of history. Sir James smoked and smoked, a perfect picture of the strong, silent man…’25
The two men agreed on a brief statement to the press to record the fact that they had met. Craig wrote the statement on a piece of paper torn from a copy of the Freeman’s Journal newspaper and de Valera wrote the agreed text on another piece of paper. Emmet Dalton would describe later how Craig, after the meeting, told him that he found de Valera ‘impossible’.26 Craig was driven back to the home of Sir James O’Connor, where O’Connor and Cope were waiting anxiously for his return. Craig and Cope travelled on to the Secretary’s Lodge in the Phoenix Park, where Lady Craigavon was waiting even more anxiously for her husband to come back. Years later, after her husband’s death, she still retained the scrap of paper from the Freeman’s Journal on which Craig had written the statement.
Dalton’s companion on this occasion, Sean Harling, went on to win his own place in the history of Irish intrigue. Harling, who was interned during the Civil War, apparently went on to work as an undercover intelligence agent for the Free State police force, the Garda Síochána. He claimed that on returning to his Dublin home at Dartry Road one evening in January 1928, he was fired on by two men, and that he returned fire, mortally wounding one of his assailants. The dead man was Timothy Coughlan, an IRA man believed to have been part of the three-man gang who had assassinated Government Minister Kevin O’Higgins the previous year. It was found that Coughlan had been shot in the back of the head and still had a cigarette in his mouth. A tribunal of inquiry found that Harling had acted in self-defence.
Meeting Michael Collins, and Attempted Rescue of Sean MacEoin
Some time after he had joined the IRA Emmet Dalton met the man who was to have a profound effect on his life – Michael Collins. Dalton was introduced to Collins at Devlin’s public house, one of Collins’s regular haunts. Dalton was very impressed by the man known affectionately as the ‘Big Fellow’. Apparently Collins was introduced to Dalton only by his nickname – the name ‘Michael Collins’ was not used at all during this first encounter. There were also code names for the various hostelries that Collins frequented. So far as Dalton could recall, Vaughan’s Hotel was ‘joint number one’, Devlin’s was ‘joint number two’ and nearby Kirwan’s pub was ‘joint number three’. It appears that the two men did not have much to talk about during that first meeting but Collins said they would meet again.27
The next meeting with Collins resulted in Dalton taking a lead role in one of the most hazardous episodes of his career – the attempt to rescue senior IRA commander Sean MacEoin from Mountjoy Prison. It was an operation that also involved Emmet’s brother Charlie. Even though Charlie was a member of Collins’s intelligence apparatus, and had taken part in the Bloody Sunday operation, he only knew Collins to see. His first face-to-face meeting with Collins did not happen until April 1921, when the operation to ‘spring’ MacEoin from prison was being organized.
Collins was particularly anxious to rescue MacEoin. Known as ‘The Blacksmith of Ballinalee’, MacEoin was one of the more notable guerrilla fighters during the War of Independence. He operated in County Longford and was facing trial by military court and an almost certain death sentence. Ironically, he was an IRA leader who acted with particular chivalry towards enemy prisoners. Emmet Dalton described MacEoin as having ‘brought a glimmer of decency into a dark and sordid era’.28
To ‘spring’ MacEoin from Mountjoy Prison, Collins came up with the idea of hi-jacking a British Army armoured car and have one of their people impersonate a British officer in the prison. MacEoin would then be taken away to safety. Collins devised the plan after being told that the crew of an armoured car regularly breached security regulations by emerging from the vehicle at a particular location and leaving the door open. This made the car’s seizure a real possibility. But who could impersonate a British officer?
Traynor suggested Emmet Dalton to Collins, who asked to meet him. As mentioned, the two had previously been introduced at Devlin’s pub. When the war hero met the Big Fellow once again, Collins was immediately struck by the fact that Dalton was ‘made for the job’.29 According to Traynor, Dalton spoke with the required ‘affected accent’ of the British officer, was very neat and debonair and wore a small, fair moustache, of the type favoured by the officer class. Collins explained that Dalton would dress up as a British officer and bluff his way into Mountjoy in a hi-jacked armoured car to rescue MacEoin. Privately, Dalton thought the plan was ‘insane’, according to his later account, but such was Collins’s enthusiasm that he decided to go along with the proposal.30 When Dalton agreed to take part, Collins shook his hand warmly, and assured him he would have the backing of the entire Volunteer organization. Collins went on to have regular meetings with Dalton as part of the planning process for the rescue.
A bond developed between the two men. Clearly, Collins saw in Emmet Dalton a brave, dynamic young man who could handle major tasks. He obviously respected Dalton’s military experience, his coolness and his ‘can-do’ attitude, and would entrust Dalton with a range of crucial tasks over the following year. Dalton, for his part, looked up to Collins. Dalton would write later of Collins that he never knew a man to possess such an amazing personality – he described Collins as a severe taskmaster but with his mesmeric personality the Big Fellow ‘could make the weakest of us feel strong with the overflow of his courage’.31
In late April 1921 Charlie Dalton was called in by the Assistant Director of Intelligence, Tom Cullen, to discuss with Collins his part in the upcoming rescue. Charlie recalled later that he was ‘overawed’ to be in the presence of Collins, and felt annoyed with himself that he was not at ease as he wanted to make a ‘good impression’.32
Collins had received information from Michael Lynch, the Superintendent of the Dublin Corporation abattoir, who was also an on-the-run Volunteer officer. British soldiers in lorries, escorted by an armoured car, called to the slaughter house on Aughrim Street, off the North Circular Road, early every morning to collect meat.33 The military killed their own cattle at the abattoir, prepared the meat there, which was then taken back in lorries to military base facilities to feed the soldiers. The fact that the crew had a habit of leaving the armoured car while soldiers were dressing the meat or having breakfast meant that the vehicle was vulnerable to seizure. Charlie Dalton’s role was to keep surveillance on the soldiers at the abattoir, and to assess the feasibility of the car’s seizure. He reported back to Collins that he believed the operation could be successful.
A rescue plan was drawn up. Dressed as British officers, Emmet Dalton and Joe Leonard would enter Mountjoy in the hi-jacked armoured car and convince the prison authorities that they were transferring MacEoin. The two rescuers would wear uniforms that Dalton retained from his service as an officer in the British Army. Emmet Dalton would lead this part of the operation. As part of the preparation, Collins held a meeting at Jim Kirwan’s public house. Dalton and Leonard attended, and met a sympathetic Mountjoy Prison warder – probably Peadar Breslin. The warder gave them full information about the position of military guards, meal times and relief times for police and Auxiliaries.34
When Dalton found that the armoured car to be hi-jacked was a Peerless model, equipped with two Hotchkiss machine guns, he set about trying to locate two Volunteers who would be capable of using the Hotchkiss.35 This was a weapon which, he knew from experience, was mainly used by the British Cavalry in the Great War. He had no personal experience of using the weapon himself. He knew a man called Jack McSweeney who had been a pilot in the British air force and found that McSweeney had a working knowledge of the Hotchkiss and, more importantly, was ‘sound’ as regards his national outlook. McSweeney went along with Dalton to a meeting with the two Volunteers who were to act as gunners in the armoured car, and with the aid of blackboard diagrams, instructed them in the operation of the gun. Dalton admitted it was the best that could be done in the absence of an actual Hotchkiss machine gun. (McSweeney later helped Dalton procure an aircraft during the Anglo-Irish Treaty talks held in London during late 1921, which would fly Collins back to Ireland in the event of an emergency.)
The rescue attempt was a high-risk operation. Mountjoy Prison was a heavily-guarded, high-security facility. While outwardly calm, Emmet Dalton feared he might not come out alive. Being a devout Catholic, he took the precaution of going to Confession.36 Dalton later recalled Collins’ briefing on the rescue plans to participants. When Collins detailed the arrangements ‘he seemed to have made molehills of mountainous difficulties’. Dalton went on: ‘His “God Speed” when our little party set out was in itself a tonic to cheer us.’37
Members of Michael Collins’s Squad, the Active Service Unit and of the intelligence staff were mobilized for the rescue. Charlie Dalton was stationed in the home of the abattoir superintendent. For three days he kept vigil on the slaughterhouse while the others lay in wait. On the morning of 12 May 1921, he saw the armoured car crew step out of the vehicle. Recognizing the time had come to strike, he signalled the others by raising a window blind. Paddy O’Daly led an IRA party into the abattoir, where they shouted ‘hands up’. One soldier was fired on when, apparently, he failed to comply immediately with instructions – he may have showed resistance or may simply have hesitated. He was seriously wounded and died later of his injuries.38 Meanwhile, Charlie Dalton ran to a nearby house to breathlessly tell his brother and Joe Leonard that the operation had been launched. The two men already wore their British Army uniforms. The house, An Grianán, on the corner of Ellesmere Avenue and North Circular Road, was occupied by two elderly ladies. Probably fearing the worst, the women knelt in anxious prayer as Dalton and Leonard left the house. The Peerless armoured car, equipped with two machine guns, was commandeered, with Pat McCrea, the Squad’s premier ‘wheelman’ driving, and Bill Stapleton as his assistant. McCrea had never driven a vehicle like this. Also in the IRA group were Sean Caffrey; machine gunner Peter Gough, who had served in a machine gun unit in the British Army during the Great War, and Tom Keogh whose coolness was regarded as an important asset. They wore British Army caps and dungarees. Meanwhile at the abattoir, soldiers and staff were held at gunpoint by members of the IRA group until the armoured car was well on its way – then they themselves withdrew.
McCrea drove the car along the North Circular Road to Hanlon’s Corner where Emmet Dalton and Joe Leonard were waiting. McCrea’s co-driver Bill Stapleton gave the pre-arranged signal – a white handkerchief waved out the window of the car – and the two ‘officers’ were quickly on board. With seven now in the vehicle, it was a tight squeeze. When the armoured car drove up to the prison, the car horn was sounded and a warder looked out through the grille and then emerged from the wicket gate. With an air of authority, Dalton waved an official-looking document, and demanded immediate access to the prison. The main gates were opened and the armoured car drove through. The gates closed behind them but McCrea managed to reverse and to park the vehicle in such a way that the two inner gates of the jail could not be closed. Meanwhile, a separate group of Volunteers hung about outside the prison to open the front gates when the time came for the car to escape.39
Leonard had been a prisoner in Mountjoy. A warder was clearly startled when he recognized Leonard in his British Army uniform but does not appear to have raised the alarm. Dalton was approached by the Chief Warder who asked him why he was there, and Dalton replied that he had come to see the prisoner ‘McKeon’ (MacEoin). Dalton and Leonard made their way into the prison with the help of their inside man, warder Peadar Breslin. MacEoin had already been tipped off by Breslin to expect a rescue attempt. The original plan was that MacEoin would contrive to get himself in the Governor’s office at the time the rescuers came in. They would then leave together. Unfortunately, police in the prison introduced an additional security check on the prisoners which prevented MacEoin getting to the Governor’s office in time.40 Dalton carried with him duplicate keys to the doors of the wing and the cell where MacEoin was being held. The keys had been made for Michael Collins from impressions supplied to him by a sympathetic warder, possibly Breslin.41
Dalton and Leonard passed into the central section, or ‘diamond’ where blocks converged. They were on their way to MacEoin’s cell in C (I) Wing when the Chief Warder again approached Dalton and stopped him, asking him again what his mission was. Dalton told him he needed to see MacEoin to read to him a statement of evidence. The warder said he could not interview the prisoner – he had first to go and see the Governor and get permission. Governor Charles Munro, brother of Hector Munro, the short story writer with the pen name Saki, was an essentially humane man. He had brought in a rule that military officers had to check with him first before seeing a prisoner. The rule had been introduced after prisoners had complained of being abused by visiting army officers.
Dalton and Leonard were shown by the Chief Warder into the Governor’s office. He introduced the visitors and then departed. Now the two ‘officers’ met with another setback – the Governor was not alone. The Deputy Governor and the prison medical officer, Dr. Hackett, were also there. Dalton saluted the Governor, who greeted the visitors pleasantly. Emulating the clipped tones of a British officer, Dalton explained his mission, requesting that he should be allowed to go and see MacEoin, or that MacEoin should be brought to the office. He handed over a forged ‘prisoner transfer’ document ordering MacEoin to be taken from Mountjoy to Dublin Castle. The Governor read the document and went to pick up the telephone to phone Dublin Castle to confirm the order. Leonard immediately sprang forward and knocked the telephone out of his hand while Dalton produced his revolver, saying ‘Hands up, gentlemen please.’ The governor and his colleagues were so shocked they did not immediately comply. Leonard addressed them more forcefully. ‘Put up your f…ing hands.’ The three raised their hands and the Governor was so astonished at this turn of events that his monocle fell from his eye, and broke on his desk. It was one of those details that stayed engraved in Dalton’s memory. Dalton told Leonard to tie up the three men. Leonard asked with what should he tie them up. Dalton said to take their handkerchiefs and tie their hands behind their back. Leonard proceeded to do so. Dalton’s idea was that he would put his head out the door and ask for MacEoin to be sent to the Governor’s office immediately. Just then, they were startled to hear the sound of gunfire.
Mingling with a large crowd of people waiting outside the prison to visit relatives were members of a second section of the rescue group – Frank Bolster, Tom Walsh, and Cumann na mBan member Áine Malone, who carried a prisoner’s parcel.42 When the wicket gate was opened to allow the parcel to pass through, Bolster and Walsh drew revolvers and grabbed the gate-keeper’s keys. They then opened the main gate, to facilitate the escape of the party inside the jail. A sentry on the roof saw the commotion and fired a shot that wounded Walsh in the hand, thus raising the alarm. Before the sentry could fire again, Tom Keogh shot him dead from inside the courtyard with a Mauser C96 ‘Peter the Painter’ pistol. The soldier’s rifle fell to the ground and was picked up by Bill Stapleton.
Dalton and Leonard heard the gunfire in the Governor’s office. They knew now that they had to abandon the rescue operation. In his RTÉ interview with Pádraigh Ó Raghallaigh, Dalton recalled turning to Leonard and saying, ‘Let’s get out of here.’ They managed to lock their captives into the office as they emerged into a corridor full of Auxiliaries and warders milling around, clearly on full alert due to the gunfire. Dalton murmured to Leonard, ‘For God’s sake, don’t run.’ They walked out into the yard where Pat McCrea was ready to drive off. McCrea was relieved to see them but disappointed that MacEoin was not with them. McCrea recalled that they asked, ‘Who the hell started shooting?’, and said it had spoiled the job.43 Dalton ensured that everyone was on board. Then Dalton realized there was little room for himself inside the vehicle. He and Frank Bolster sat on the outside, at the back. Dalton remained calm and said to McCrea, ‘Pat, home please’ or words to that effect – like a gentleman addressing his chauffeur. With little time to spare McCrea drove out through the front gate and down the avenue to the North Circular Road. A troop of British soldiers ran out after the vehicle but did not open fire – apparently they thought the occupants of the car were British Army personnel. The British later reported that the car, with its occupants, ‘still unrecognized as hostile, was permitted to depart’.44
The armoured car moved south down the North Circular Road. As he sat outside at the back of the vehicle, Dalton lit a cigarette. Meanwhile, the Governor, locked in his office, managed to break a window to raise the alarm, and also phoned military headquarters. Soon troops in lorries were out on the streets looking for the armoured car.45 McCrea, still at the wheel of the vehicle, drove to a rendezvous in the area of North Richmond Street, off the North Circular Road, where O’Connell School was located. Michael Lynch, the abattoir superintendent who had supplied vital intelligence for the rescue operation, was there when the armoured car arrived. He later recalled Emmet Dalton sitting on the platform at the back of the car, ‘lying back as an immaculate British officer, with his knees crossed and smoking a cigarette’.46 ‘I can never forget that moment,’ Lynch said of Dalton’s cool attitude. ‘He was completely unperturbed even though only a few moments before he had undergone an experience that would have driven most men crazy. Let me say at once that this was no pose, no bravado, but sheer unadulterated nerve.’47
Meanwhile, Paddy O’Daly arrived on a push bike with the wounded Walsh, blood streaming from his hand, hanging on the back of the bicycle. Lynch provided some emergency first aid, bandaging Walsh’s wound. As often happens in Dublin when an unusual event occurs, a crowd of children gathered. One urchin said to Lynch, ‘Hey, Sir. Give me the wounded man. I live around here and we’ll look after him.’ Lynch thought it was time that Dalton should get away from the area as quickly as possible. He asked Dalton if he was going to stay there all day. ‘No,’ Dalton replied, ‘I might as well get off and get out of these duds.’48
Standing by at the rendezvous, in his taxi, was Joe Hyland, Michael Collins’s faithful driver. The original plan was that he would drive Sean MacEoin to a secure hiding place. Now his job was to take Dalton, Leonard and Walsh away to safety. He drove the three men to the pleasant seaside area of Howth, a safe distance away from the excitement. As previously mentioned, Dalton had been staying at a house in Howth with other Volunteers. Hyland dropped off his three passengers at a secluded convent, Stella Maris, on Howth peninsula, run by the Sisters of Charity. Leonard’s sister had friends at the convent, set in spacious grounds with woodland paths and a panoramic view of the sea.
A nun was initially startled to open the door and find two men in British Army uniform on the doorstep. All was explained and the callers were welcomed into the convent. Walsh received further treatment for his wound, and the visitors were given tea, served in the convent’s best china. Dalton and Leonard needed to change from their British Army uniforms into civilian clothes. A messenger was sent to Cassidy’s public house on Howth Summit and returned with two suits. Now in civilian clothes, Dalton and Leonard returned to Dublin city centre by tram.
Pat McCrea ran into problems with the armoured car after dropping off three of his passengers at North Richmond Street. His experience was mainly with Ford cars, and he did not realize that the armour plates covering the radiator should have been opened while the car was moving. As a result, the engine badly overheated and the vehicle ground to a halt in the seaside suburb of Clontarf. The original plan had been to drive the armoured car to a farm between Swords and Malahide, in the Fingal Brigade area, where it would be hidden in a barn but now the vehicle had to be abandoned.49 The crew stripped the vehicle of its two Hotchkiss machine guns and ammunition belts, set fire to the engine, and made their getaway with the machine guns and the rifle dropped by the shot sentry. The British were so concerned about the loss of the armoured car that they deployed a low-flying aircraft to search for it. The vehicle was eventually located on a secluded road near Clontarf railway station, and towed back to town. Meanwhile, the placid and iron-nerved McCrea returned to his day job delivering groceries on behalf of his brother (a merchant on South Great George’s Street) to the Auxiliaries in Portobello Barracks. He is said to have been ‘quietly amused’ by the furore caused there by his activities earlier that day.50 The following day, Sunday, Charlie Dalton went to see Pat McCrea to find out what went wrong with the operation, and was pleased to find Emmet with him. Emmet told him it was ‘hopeless’ from the moment the firing started – if that had been delayed for a couple of minutes they might have got MacEoin out.51
Members of the IRA group were extremely lucky to escape, but they were devastated at the failure to rescue MacEoin. On the evening of the rescue attempt Dalton met Collins who was also deeply disappointed, but even then Dalton found the Big Fellow ‘was generous in his thanks for the effort that had been made’.52 He told Dalton that he would always consider it ‘a successful failure’. Collins was clearly impressed by Dalton’s performance – all that could have been done, had been done. For his part, Dalton felt that Collins had come to trust him and thereafter Dalton had ‘infinite faith’ in Collins.53 It was the beginning of a close, working relationship between the two men. The operation had enhanced Dalton’s reputation for courage and coolness under pressure. He himself insisted that it was Collins’s leadership qualities that encouraged people like himself to undertake major operations that they would otherwise have had their doubts about.
As it turned out, the IRA gained considerable publicity and prestige from the daring rescue attempt. The Times described the rescue operation as ‘the most daring coup yet effected by Republicans in Dublin’.54 Details of the identity of the soldiers who were killed during the rescue attempt did not immediately enter the public domain. The soldier fatally wounded in the abattoir was identified in recent years as Private Albert George Saggers (20), of the Royal Army Service Corps, of Stanstead, England.55
Had Dalton and Leonard been captured they could have faced a draconian sentence in a military court. The hi-jacking of the armoured car was a matter of great concern to the British military commander in Ireland, General Macready. He reported on the incident in one of his regular weekly reports to the War Office and the Cabinet. Macready said that a court of enquiry was being held. The whole incident had caused him to consider seriously ‘the adequacy of the personnel at present available for manning the armoured cars…’56 Meanwhile, security arrangements were tightened, with instructions issued to the British military that armed men or armoured cars were not to be allowed to enter any barracks or quarters until their identity had been thoroughly established.57
MacEoin went on trial in a military court on 14 June and, as expected, was sentenced to death. Michael Collins insisted on MacEoin being released when arrangements for truce negotiations with the British were being put in place later in 1921. In later years, Emmet Dalton commented on the rescue attempt: ‘It was, I suppose, suicidal but it nearly came off, probably because it was so outrageously silly.’58 Dalton and other members of the IRA rescue group remained loyal to Collins and some, like Dalton himself and Paddy O’Daly, would play significant roles on the Free State side in the ensuing Civil War. The sole woman participant in the rescue attempt, Áine Malone, a glamorous young Dubliner who had been shot in the hip while carrying dispatches during the 1916 Rising, took the republican side in the Civil War.59
Eventually, the British identified Emmet Dalton as one of the bogus British officers who had entered Mountjoy in the attempt to ‘spring’ MacEoin. In the months following the Truce, Dalton’s name entered the public domain in connection with the operation. If the British did not know already, they knew it now. The Dublin Castle file on Dalton includes two press clippings from 1922 that refer to Dalton’s role in the affair. The British also suspected Dalton’s involvement in organizing the February 1921 escape of three republican prisoners from Kilmainham Jail, Frank Teeling, Simon Donnelly, and Ernie O’Malley. The Dublin Castle file details a conversation between a British officer and ‘a captain of the republicans’ in which the latter claims that Dalton was responsible for the escape.
According to the report, the whole Kilmainham escape ‘was arranged by Major General Dalton’ (his Civil War rank). The republican referred to Dalton as an ex-British officer, and said Dalton drove up to Kilmainham Jail in a lorry about an hour before the escape, dressed as a British officer, and entered the jail. He also said that Dalton had entered Kilmainham Jail ‘several times’, dressed as a ‘British officer’.60 The British Administration appeared to give credence to this account, and included the remark in Dalton’s file. In the file there is a summary of Dalton’s career which includes the remark: ‘Organized the escape from Kilmainham Prison of one TEELING a prisoner convicted of murder and awaiting execution… Said to have been responsible for many of the escapes from prisons and is regarded as an expert at such work.’ However, Ernie O’Malley’s first-hand account of the escape from Kilmainham in his book On Another Man’s Wound, makes no reference to any role by Dalton in the escape, nor to anyone entering the prison posing as a British officer. Other IRA documentation does not mention Dalton in this regard either.
Attack on the Custom House
In the earlier part of 1921, members of the Dáil Cabinet decided to strike a major blow at British administration in Ireland by destroying the Custom House by the banks of the Liffey in Dublin. The period building housed important government files and a number of Departments, including Inland Revenue, Local Government, and the Stamp Office. It was one of the biggest operations mounted by the IRA during the War of Independence. The attack was launched on 25 May 1921 by a force of about 120 Volunteers under Commandant Tom Ennis, commander of the 2nd Battalion of the Dublin Brigade. After the raiders struck, there were delays in getting the staff to leave the building. As a result the Volunteers were still on the scene when Crown forces arrived – a unit of Black and Tans backed up by military and armoured cars. While the IRA succeeded in its objective of burning the Custom House, it was a disaster for the organization. Most of the Volunteers who took part were captured and five were killed in the fighting, including two brothers, Paddy and Stephen O’Reilly. Ennis was shot in the leg and the hip and was lucky to get away. Jim Slattery, one of the members of Michael Collins’s Squad who took part in the operation, also got away but lost a hand as a result of injuries. Among the civilian casualties was the caretaker, Mr. F.M. Davis who was fatally wounded after he apparently tried to raise the alarm – he was due to retire the following August. A colleague heard the dying family man say: ‘Who will look after my boys?’61
Dalton was not involved in the Custom House operation or in the planning of it but he monitored developments from the headquarters of the Dublin Brigade, with the brigade adjutant Christy O’Malley. Word came through that the operation had gone awry and that many of the Volunteers had been captured. Dalton and his colleagues tried to organize a force to mount a diversion that would enable the escape of Volunteers who had been lined up by the British but at short notice they could not find anyone available.62
Shortly after the Custom House operation, Dalton called to the Gresham Hotel to see a visitor from America, James Brendan Connolly, who was Commissioner for the American Committee for the Relief in Ireland. Connolly, son of an Irish-speaking immigrant from the Aran Islands, came from Dalton’s home state of Massachusetts and this probably made Dalton all the more eager to meet him. They discussed how Connolly could help in publicizing the IRA’s achievements – Dalton told him to contact republican publicist Erskine Childers who had the records of the IRA ‘in the field’. They also discussed the serious wounds suffered by the Commandant of the Dublin Brigade, Tom Ennis, in the attack on the Custom House. Clearly, Dalton feared the worst and remarked, ‘He can’t live’.63 In fact Ennis would survive to fight alongside Dalton in the Civil War.
Dalton wrote a detailed report on the Custom House operation which included an analysis of what went wrong from a military point of view. He concluded that the main force had inadequate protection: ‘A force can be regarded as secure from surprise only when protection is furnished in every direction from which attack is possible.’ He commented that ambush parties should have been posted at all likely routes for the purpose of holding up the enemy advance and thus gaining time. However, he did praise Commandant Tom Ennis for the initiative he showed in turning ‘what might have been a failure into success’.64 Looking back on the operation in later years Dalton saw the capture of so many Volunteers and the deaths of others as a very grave blow to the Dublin Brigade. In his view, the Volunteers in Dublin were in a hopeless position, there was no fighting force left and there was a lack of arms.65 For this reason he would welcome the Truce between the British and the IRA that was now not far off – it would be concluded just a few weeks later.
The Arrival of the Thompson Guns
There was considerable excitement in the upper ranks of the IRA when the first Thompson sub-machine guns were smuggled in from the United States. Harry Boland, the Irish representative in the US, was involved in procuring the weapons. Just a few guns were brought in after a major consignment was seized in America.66 The Thompson guns that made their way to Ireland, while of great interest to the movement, would not have been sufficient to solve the arms shortage which in Dalton’s view had greatly impaired the capabilities of the Volunteers.
Dalton was one of the IRA GHQ members to examine the rapid-fire sub-machine guns that were imported from the US. In Dublin, he liaised with two Irish-American former officers of the US armed forces, Major James Dineen and Captain Patrick Cronin. They had arrived from Chicago to give classes in the maintenance, dismantling and firing of the weapon. Both men would later become officers in the Free State Army. P.J. Paul67 recalled being brought to a room in University College Dublin, probably some time in May 1921, and there meeting Emmet Dalton, as well as two American instructors, and shown a Thompson. According to Paul, the name on the door where the meeting took place was ‘Owen MacNeill’ – probably a reference to Professor Eoin MacNeill, the noted academic, Gaelic League founder, and later government minister.
Dalton was also present when Michael Collins and a prominent figure in Collins’ Squad were shown a Thompson. The weapon had been brought to the Dublin home of a republican family, and examined and assembled. According to Catherine Rooney68 those present were Collins, Dalton and Paddy Daly. She recalled that after some time the men left and went to Marino where they tried out the gun. Emmet Dalton’s brother Charlie was equipped with a Thompson when he took part in an ambush of British troops travelling by train through his home area of Drumcondra on 16 June 1921. It was part of an attempt to carry out a number of attacks so that the British would not know how the ranks of the Volunteers had been depleted by the arrests made during the Custom House operation.69 Charlie Dalton believed it was the first time that the two new Thompson guns that had been smuggled into Ireland were brought into action, although he did not manage to fire his own weapon as the target only presented itself briefly.
Emmet Dalton came to know the boisterous, playful side of Michael Collins. In later years he recalled how, ‘at the very height of the struggle and curfew’, he himself, Collins and Gearóid O’Sullivan were staying the night at the small, private Munster Hotel, run by Miss McCarthy. (The hotel at 44 Mountjoy Street in Dublin’s north inner city, was a favourite Collins ‘safe house’.) Collins sabotaged the bed that O’Sullivan was to occupy, so that it collapsed under his weight, causing the Big Fellow to laugh uproariously. In case Dalton felt left out of the merriment, Collins threw Dalton’s shoes through the open window and into the street.70 Crown forces were patrolling the neighbourhood and Dalton may have had some reservations about the Big Fellow’s prank as he ventured out to recover his footwear.
Truce in the War of Independence
Emmet Dalton would recall in later life that he was surprised when he heard, in the summer of 1921, that there might be a Truce in the War of Independence. Following talks between the leaders on both sides, a Truce was agreed, and it came into operation on 11 July 1921. According to Dalton, he and other members of the IRA general staff were pleased at the decision to call a Truce. He considered that their fighting force in Dublin had been severely reduced as a result of so many of their men being captured in the Custom House operation. He estimated that 60 per cent of the fighting force had been taken prisoner at the Custom House. It was a severe setback.71
As part of the Truce a liaison system was set up between the IRA and the British civil and military authorities in Ireland to monitor the observation of the Truce. Dalton apparently became Assistant Chief Liaison Officer and Dublin Brigade Liaison Officer.72 He would later assume the very powerful position of Chief Liaison Officer. Dalton continued with his role as Director of Training in IRA GHQ. The IRA began to train openly rather than covertly as was the case previously. Dalton organized ‘a complete training programme for the whole country’, according to J.J. ‘Ginger’ O’Connell.73 One of Dalton’s roles was to organize training camps and appoint instructors. For this task Dalton sought Irish Volunteers with British military experience. In his memoir, Dublin Made Me, Todd Andrews recalled going along to meet Dalton in a ‘miserable gloomy’ room in the building known as the Plaza Hotel. He had heard about Dalton but was surprised at how youthful the Director of Training looked. Nevertheless, there was no mistaking the ‘air of authority he exuded’, despite his quiet and pleasant manner.74 Dalton told him to take charge of a training camp for senior officers of the Donegal Brigade, at Dungloe. He was assisted by a former British Army sergeant. Details of the course were set out in the official curriculum. Andrews had his doubts about the sergeant who seemed to have more interest in drink than in republican politics, and the instructor was ultimately sent back to Dublin as ‘unsuitable’.
One of those impressed by Dalton’s performance as Director of Training was Seamus Finn from County Meath, who was Vice O/C and Director of Training of the 1st Eastern Division of the IRA. In his statement to the BMH, Finn said: ‘I believe I have never met anyone so efficient in my life. He was a pale faced, slightly-built man, but gave one the impression of being made of whalebone. I was very impressed by him and I was not alone in that.’ Finn told how, following the Truce, a divisional or central camp was established at Ballymacoll outside Dunboyne, and Dalton sent down two training officers. ‘This camp was kept going right through the Truce period, and was not closed until the British withdrew their troops from the country altogether, and our men took over and occupied the barracks which they vacated.’75 Dalton approached a former schoolmate at O’Connell’s, John Harrington, who had been active in the IRA, to run a training camp at Sligo. Harrington declined the offer, considering that he would be of greater value in an intelligence role in Dublin if hostilities were resumed.76
William Corri, from an Irish-Italian family in Ringsend, Dublin, was one of the men with previous military experience who was recruited by Dalton to give instruction to the Volunteers. Corri, who stood out among the Volunteers because of his Latin looks, came from a most artistic family – his forebears included opera singers, composers and a prominent landscape painter. He had served in the British Army in the Great War in Salonika, Belgium and France. After returning to Dublin he joined the Volunteers, becoming a member of E Company, I Battalion, having previously been rejected by the commander of another unit because of his service in the British Army. He took part in raids and ambushes in Dublin, and was chosen by Dalton for a reformed Active Service Unit (ASU) after the original force’s decimation in the Custom House operation. After the Truce he became a member of GHQ training staff, and instructed officers at training camps in north Roscommon and County Mayo; at Dunboyne, County Meath and at Mulhuddart and Loughlinstown in County Dublin.77 Corri would take the Free State side in the Civil War, and served as governor of the Gormanstown prison camp and of Kilmainham Prison. In later years he continued his contact with Dalton through the Association of the Old Dublin Brigade.
During the summer of 1921 Dalton spent several weeks running an IRA training camp in the Dublin Mountains. Groups of Volunteers would arrive for a ten-day course, centred on a very remote hunting lodge, Glenasmole Lodge, in the scenic, wooded valley of Glenasmole. For many trainees, such training courses, apart from providing military instruction, would have been a welcome break from normal routine, providing a change of scene, a sense of camaraderie, and a stay in a stunning location. Located on the very edge of mountain moorland and heather, the lodge was well chosen for a military training camp. Dalton was pleased with the courses.78
Glenasmole Lodge was the hillside retreat of a prominent Anglo-Irish businessman, Charles Wisdom Hely who had been a Justice of the Peace and whose main residence was at Rathgar, Dublin. It is unclear under what conditions the IRA used his hillside retreat – Hely later re-assumed the use of the lodge. (Wisdom Hely and his printing and stationary business on Dame Street are mentioned in James Joyce’s novel Ulysses. The character Leopold Bloom used to work at Hely’s but was sacked because he kept making suggestions to Wisdom Hely as to how to improve the business.) During 1921 another IRA officer Paddy O’Brien worked as an assistant to Dalton in running courses at the Glenasmole camp and he and Dalton got to know each other well. The two men would take opposite sides in the Civil War. Among the instructors at the Glenasmole camp were the two Americans who had initiated the Volunteers into the use of the Thompson sub-machine gun, Major James Dineen and Captain Patrick Cronin. At Glenasmole, they specialised in instruction in the Thompson gun, and one can imagine how the hillside echoed to the staccato sound of the weapon as it was fired during training. Both men were useful additions to the IRA training staff. Dineen was born in Limerick and had served seventeen years in the US armed forces. He took part in operations against the Mexican revolutionary Pancho Villa and in the Great War in France he had been wounded.
During the period of the Truce, the IRA continued to maintain its organization in case hostilities resumed, and plans were formulated for a uniformed army. Ernie O’Malley recalled how, in the period following the Truce, he was called to Dublin for a meeting of senior IRA officers, in August 1921. Among those present were Michael Collins, Director of Intelligence; Richard Mulcahy, Chief of Staff; Eoin O’Duffy, Deputy Chief of Staff, and Emmet Dalton, Director of Training. Officers from the provinces gave a report on developments in their areas. The question of wearing uniforms was discussed – most were in favour.79 Elements of the IRA were about to move from a guerrilla force to a conventional army.
Getting to Know Senior Figures in the Republican Movement
After joining the General Headquarters staff of the IRA, Dalton came to know some of the leading figures in the independence movement. He became friends with Harry Boland, who had been imprisoned after the 1916 Rising, later becoming Sinn Féin party secretary, and TD for South Roscommon in the First Dáil. Boland also served for a period as President of the Supreme Council of the secretive Irish Republican Brotherhood and was to be a republican envoy to the United States from May 1919 to December 1921. Dalton witnessed the competition for the affections of Kitty Kiernan between Boland and the latter’s good friend Michael Collins, a contest that the Big Fellow would ultimately win. After Boland returned from the United States in August 1921, Dalton tagged along when Boland, Collins and Sean MacEoin showed up in Granard, County Longford where Kitty lived. Boland’s biographer comments that Dalton was a ‘congenial novelty in the inner circle’.80
Dalton was also a guest at the wedding of Tom Barry and Leslie Price in Dublin on 22 August 1921. The guest list reads like a ‘Who’s Who’ of the Irish republican movement at the time, and included Michael Collins, Éamon de Valera, Harry Boland, Eoin O’Duffy, Countess Markievicz and Mary McSwiney. The best man was Liam Deasy. The wedding reception was held at Vaughan’s Hotel, Parnell Square, a favourite haunt of Michael Collins. Some of those at the happy event would later take leading roles on opposite sides in the Civil War. Ironically, on the first anniversary of the wedding, Michael Collins would die at Bealnablath, County Cork, in an ambush organized with the approval of the groom’s best man Liam Deasy.
During the Truce period, in his capacity as Training Officer, Dalton came to know Tom Barry well – he visited the West Cork area and was shown around by Barry. He would later recall that he had a ‘good acquaintance with West Cork’.81 This knowledge would come in useful during the Civil War, when the region formed part of the battleground between Dalton’s troops and republican fighters, who included leaders such as Barry. With his personal charm, Dalton made an impression on Kitty Kiernan and her sister Maud, and became friendly with them. Maud seemed to take an interest in Dalton’s love life. By late 1921 Emmet was clearly deeply committed to his sweetheart Alice whom he would marry the following year. But there may have been other romances in the meantime. Maud, in a letter to Harry Boland in December 1921, said she believed Emmet has fallen in love again. ‘I hope this will be the final one.’82 In October 1922 Maud herself would marry Gearóid O’Sullivan, who was friendly with Emmet and very close to Michael Collins. O’Sullivan would serve as Adjutant General of the National Army during the Civil War and in later life became a successful barrister and member of the Dáil.
Dalton attended the wedding of Kitty Kiernan’s glamorous sister Helen when she married County Fermanagh solicitor Paul McGovern. Collins had originally been attracted to Helen but transferred his affections to Kitty when Helen chose McGovern instead. While in London with the Treaty delegation in October 1921, Dalton took time to write to Harry Boland that the wedding was a ‘huge success’, and commented on how well Kitty looked.83 The McGovern marriage broke up in 1925, and Helen ran a successful fish restaurant on Duke Street, Dublin, known as ‘The Dive’. One of her grandsons is the actor Barry McGovern,84 who happened to play the role of the Big Fellow’s great opponent, Éamon de Valera, in the 1991 RTÉ-BBC historical film, The Treaty.
Playing Soccer and Golf
Emmet Dalton loved football and he played with Bohemians after returning to Dublin from the Great War. He is said to have joined the club in 1919 and played for a season. According to author Ulick O’Connor, Dalton frequently played matches against British regiments behind the barbed wire that had been erected ‘to keep men of his kind from entering for purposes other than sport’.85 Said Ulick: ‘He told me they [the British] would not know you in your togs.’ He added that Dalton was a ‘great soccer player’. Ulick got to know Dalton well in the 1950s while interviewing him in connection with research for his biography of the poet, writer and surgeon Oliver St. John Gogarty.86 They would meet in the Shelbourne Hotel when Dalton made trips to Dublin from his home in London. Dalton and Gogarty had been good friends. Ulick said that during the War of Independence, Dalton played a part in bringing wounded IRA men to Gogarty’s house in Ely Place in Dublin for medical assistance.87 ‘Gogarty used to do operations on IRA men in trouble,’ said Ulick, adding that if Gogarty had been caught by the authorities he would have been in serious trouble.
Dalton was also to indulge his passion for golf. Having played the game in El Arish in the Sinai desert, he was eager to develop his skills in the greener pastures of Ireland after being demobilized. It is unclear when exactly he joined the Hermitage club in the Lucan area of County Dublin, which had been founded in 1905. Hermitage enjoys a magnificent location, an oasis of greenery and woodlands just a few miles from the city. The lands slope down to the River Liffey and there are panoramic views across the green river valley. Over the years the game of golf in general, and his membership of Hermitage in particular, would play a very important role in Dalton’s life. Dalton quickly achieved scratch status, and a golfing journalist who interviewed him in later years attributed his golfing skills partly to his ability as a marksman while in the military. The journalist wrote that ‘great accuracy with a rifle stood to him in his golf as it is his wonderful accurate “shooting” as the Yankees have it, that has brought him to scratch.’88 Dalton’s avid interest in sport probably provided him with a welcome outlet as he faced into a challenging period, during which he would work more closely with a demanding taskmaster, Michael Collins.