Michael Collins and the Women Who Spied For Ireland

by Meda Ryan

  Liam Mellows became director of purchases, in charge of the importation of arms. IRA money had for some time been channelled through the IRB for the arms purchases. Cathal Brugha, who had a deep dislike and distrust of the IRB, used the discrepancies in the transfer of money as a tactic to fault Collins. Collins had been administering two sources of revenue – the public money voted by Dáil Éireann and the secret funds of the IRA and IRB. Though he tried to separate them, often they overlapped. Money was always on the go. A sailor on his way to Hamburg was given money to bring back revolvers but he might not return. Money was given to men unaccustomed to bookkeeping on the off-chance of a substantial purchase. Sentries had to be ‘squared’, so too had loading men and taxi-drivers.

  One night, quantities of Mick’s papers had been seized in a raid on a house in Bachelor’s Walk. These included expense accounts for arms purchased in England and their loss made Mick’s task of accounting more difficult. Brugha continued to nag for better accounting and was aided by Austin Stack and Liam Mellows. The entire affair upset Collins. ‘Cathal is jealous of Mick,’ Richard Mulcahy said.7

  Beaten on this front, Brugha returned ‘to his old mania’ – his plan to assassinate the British cabinet. He knew Mick’s dislike of this policy, so unknown to him he summoned some daring Volunteers to Dublin. He made Seán MacEoin leader of this London operation. Brugha would not listen to MacEoin’s objections. MacEoin then went to Mulcahy, who sent him to Collins. ‘You should be at home attending to your business,’ was Collins’ response. ‘Do you think that England has the makings of only one cabinet?’ On his way back to Mullingar MacEoin was shot by British forces, wounded and arrested. That evening, Mick attempted but failed to rescue him. Later MacEoin was sentenced to death.

  On 12 February 1921, Mick who had been in constant touch with Leslie Price, sometimes through her brother Mick Price, sent her a note:

  Dearest Leslie

  Try to meet me at the usual place on Thursday, 8.30 p.m.

  Love, M.

  The ‘usual place’ was Moya Llewelyn Davies’ house at Furry Park. At other times he would use ‘J’s place’ – that was Jennie Wyse-Power’s house. Mick always used Dearest Leslie, Leslie Dearest or some such endearment. He did the same to Moya and the rest and this made the note look like a love note if it was intercepted. ‘If he had important information in a dispatch, this would be in code, we would decipher it [the dispatch] and then destroy ... because the code could be captured. These [codes] were constantly being changed,’ according to Leslie.

  That evening, 12 February, Leslie went to Moya’s house. She had returned from west Cork a few days previously and had told Mick that Tom Barry was pleading for guns. Over a number of months Leslie had been travelling throughout Cork by bicycle or pony and trap, organising Cumann na mBan. Periodically she would return to Mick at GHQ with Cork brigade details. She had occasionally taken one or two guns in her handbag or luggage. But now she was on a bigger mission.

  Moya had a motor car. Moya and Leslie prepared for the journey in Moya’s house. In bags of flour they hid the wrapped guns. Mick told them ‘to dress up’. Leslie was nervous because the previous year (1920) Linda Kearns had been arrested and sentenced to ten years for driving a car full of arms. (With the aid of a friendly warder and local Volunteers, Linda and her comrades Eithne Coyle, Aileen Keogh and Mary Burke escaped from Mountjoy Jail by means of a rope ladder.)

  Moya, ‘dressed as a real lady with flamboyant hat’ and Leslie, clad likewise, set out for Cork early next morning. They were stopped at several places, but ‘Moya was very capable’. Most of the guns were left at O’Mahony’s of Belrose near Upton and used later by Tom Barry’s flying column.

  On 24 February Leslie got another, ‘Dearest Leslie’ note from Mick. This time Moya and she had a smaller quantity of guns for Liam Lynch. These were again carefully packed by ‘a few of the girls’ and next morning, with Mick’s blessing, the two ‘ladies’ set out for Mourne Abbey outside Mallow for the Cork Number Two Brigade. They had a narrow escape beyond Cashel when they almost ran into an ambush.

  Their next journey came after a ‘My Dearest Leslie’ note from Mick on 2 March ‘for the usual place’. This mission would take Moya and Leslie to Cork Number One Brigade. They had a small consignment which they wrapped in underwear, ‘corsets and camisoles’, with other clothes, and hid in cases. They got a puncture not far from Dublin and a lorryload of Auxiliaries stopped when they saw ‘the ladies in distress’. They were happy to change the wheel and send them on their way. Nora O’Leary and Lil Conlon later took Moya, Leslie and their ‘precious load’ to a house on the outskirts of Douglas.8

  On another mission some time previously, Nancy O’Brien was returning from England with a case containing guns for Mick. She got off the tram and was obviously having difficulty lifting the load. A policeman kindly offered to help her, and she ‘gladly’ agreed. Mick said, ‘That’s one way of bringing in guns!’9

  In early 1921, the hunt for Mick Collins continued. He was at dinner in Linda Kearns’ nurses’ home one day when suddenly Auxiliaries burst in. Mick, plate and cutlery in hand, in a split second slid under the table. Shielded by the diners and the tablecloth he crouched while the Auxies breezed past to look under beds, in cupboards, and corners. Mick and plate did not emerge until the last sound of the military had died and Linda gave the all-clear.

  One night during a raid in Donnybrook, the officer in charge stumbled on some love-letters and became engrossed. The young woman who owned the letters chastised him for invading her privacy. While hastily trying to stuff them into the drawer the officer also pushed in his list of houses to be raided. Next day Mick learned of his narrow escape. Sinéad Mason’s house, where he had slept the previous night, was on the list.

  Mick’s reputation for elusiveness grew. A report in the Daily Sketch claimed that he led an ambush in Burgatia near his west Cork birthplace on a white horse: ‘20 constables were attacked by 400 rebels ...’ – a greatly exaggerated account of Tom Barry and his flying column. The incident amused Mick.

  In a letter on 5 March to his sister Helena (Sister Celestine) he noted:

  The English papers have been giving me plenty of notoriety – a notoriety one would gladly be rid of but they must make a scapegoat. Daily Sketch had a gorgeous thing once upon a time – ‘Mike’ the super hater, dour, hard, no ray of humour, no trace of human feeling – oh lovely! The white horse story was an exaggeration. I have not ridden a white horse since I rode ‘Gipsy’ and used her mane as a bridle.10

  Broy again came under suspicion by Dublin Castle and was arrested. His superintendent had no knowledge of his dual role but trusted him and so thought it wise to burn all papers in his policeman’s locker. The Castle authorities were unable to sustain any charge against him but they kept him in Arbour Hill. Mick was devastated but this time it was impossible to plan an escape as life in the city was getting too hot. Broy remained in custody until after the Truce.

  Shortly after this MacNamara came under suspicion, was dismissed, and ordered to get out of the Castle instantly and never return. ‘You’re lucky,’ was Mick’s response. ‘If they had any suspicion of the real state of affairs, your life wouldn’t be spared.’

  MacNamara now began work with Collins’ own intelligence staff. Neligan, who had been sworn into the secret service, remained undetected. The day after his ‘swearing in’ he took a copy of his oath to Collins. ‘To the ends of the earth’ they would follow him if he betrayed the service! ‘But betray it I did. For Ireland and for Mick Collins!’11

  Notes

  1 Collins to Griffith, 26/1/1921.

  2 Peg Barrett to author, April 1976.

  3 Michael to his sister, Helena (Sr Mary Celestine) 5/3/ 1921.

  4 Frank O’Connor, op. cit., p. 117.

  5 Dorothy (Dicker) Heffernan to author, 10/9/1996.

  6 Madge Hales to author, 20/6/1972.

  7 Richard Mulcahy, ‘Note on the Differences’, Studies LXVII No. 267
(Autumn 1978), p. 190.

  8 Leslie Price de Barra, private papers, also Leslie Price to author, June 1979. During the Truce, Leslie married Tom Barry.

  9 Liam O’Donoghue to author, September 1980.

  10 Michael to Helena, 5/3/1921.

  11 Dave Neligan to author 11/2/1974.

  Raids, Arrests, Suspicion of Betrayal

  January 1921 brought sad personal news for Mick. Kathy, wife of his brother Johnny (and sister of Mick’s friend Seán Hurley who was killed in 1916), had died. He tried to go to the funeral, but a hold-up at the railway station meant he had to duck so he missed the train.

  Afterwards he wrote to his sister Helena:

  Poor Kathy is gone, alas! She is a loss not only to Johnny and all them splendid children but to the locality generally. She was a splendid type of Irish mother and many a person in South Cork will mourn her loss.1

  He tried to keep contact with his family but it wasn’t always easy. Not having been in touch with his sister Mary in Cork for a few weeks, he wrote: ‘You know it is through no lack of feeling nor indeed through any lack of thought for you but those to whom I write are doomed to have trouble brought upon them’. He wondered if she had been raided. ‘As one of the great English officers said recently on a raid – “Anyone who is a friend of that man is bound to suffer”.’2

  In early April, Mick’s intelligence office in Mespil Road was raided. In a desk beside the window the raiders found a brace of loaded revolvers. Fortunately, Mick’s intelligence files were hidden in one of Batt O’Connor’s secret cupboards. When the British had completed their search they occupied the building, hid all signs of their presence and prepared to sit until Mick rode up in the morning, pushed his bike around the side and strode in the door.

  They had already arrested Patricia Hoey, who with her invalid mother occupied the upstairs portion of the house. Aware of the danger for Mick Collins she bluffed her way, saying she was a journalist and that the press of the world would hear the story of their treatment of a woman. Late into the night she pleaded with them to let her go back to her mother. Eventually they agreed. Though under guard, she managed to tell her mother to fake a collapse. After further discussion they allowed her out under escort to fetch a doctor. Her mother couldn’t be examined with men present, she told them, and they agreed to withdraw. Patricia then told the doctor her predicament.

  Further consternation. No one knew where Mick was staying. Through the network, they succeeded with Joe O’Reilly’s help in getting scouts posted at every road leading to the office. And so, that bright spring morning, Collins, Cullen and Alice Lyons, the secretary, were all halted in time. It was a devastating blow because Mick now knew the military had the inside track, that they had been acting on a tip-off. The office would have to be abandoned.

  His dear friend and intelligence agent, Moya Llewelyn Davies, was arrested when her home was raided one night. She was lucky that no guns were found on the premises. She was imprisoned and her husband Crompton was dismissed from his British government post.3

  Moya’s arrest and those of Eileen McGrane and Patricia Hoey upset Mick. He disliked the thought of women being confined to what he termed ‘dismal surroundings’. He got his warder contacts in Mountjoy to see that they received ‘little comforts’ such as woollen rugs, good books, and food. He knew Moya liked China tea so he had it smuggled in to her with sweetmeats and ‘other goodies’ for all three.4

  At the time Mick was planning Seán MacEoin’s escape using the help of Dr Brigid Lyons. On many occasions the vibrant, energetic Brigid had transported revolvers, ammunition as well as dispatches for MacEoin and his brigade members in Longford. In this intriguing and nerve-wracking work, while still continuing her medical duties, she often only escaped arrest by the tips of her fingers. Now she would be a key link between Collins and MacEoin who was in George V Military Hospital, having been wounded while trying to escape arrest. She succeed in getting parcels and secret notes to MacEoin but was not allowed see him. MacEoin’s planned escape by Collins was foiled when he was suddenly transferred to Mountjoy Jail. Using her charm Brigid got the authorities in Mountjoy to believe that she was involved in a romantic relationship with MacEoin, and was granted visitation permits to his military hospital bed. This allowed Collins to plan another escape.

  Using every trick, Brigid and Seán MacEoin discreetly exchanged ‘intimate’ notes and coded messages during visits. Despite a clamp down on one occasion when MacEoin’s friend and fellow prisoner Thomas Traynor was court-martialled then hanged on 26 April, Brigid, on Collins’ advice, succeeded in getting her permits renewed. (Questioning by Castle authorities for each permit was rigorous.) There were several hitches in this escape plan as MacEoin, who faced court-martial was moved from the hospital area to another part of the prison.

  Throughout this time Collins, Emmet Dalton and some Squad members were planning the rescue of MacEoin, while Brigid used her charm as a go-between. Due to a series of events on the day of the planned rescue MacEoin was unable to be in the governor’s office at the time Emmet Dalton, Tom Keogh and Joe Leonard, dressed in captured British military uniforms, had entered. Shots were exchanged and the men were lucky to escape the machine-gun fire. It was with a heavy heart Brigid, who was attached to Hollis Street hospital at the time, learned of the foiled attempt. However, with Collins’ encouragement she continued her visits to Mountjoy, while Collins began planning another rescue. He visited Mrs MacEoin in Longford. ‘Next time I come, I’ll bring him with me, and it won’t be long either,’ he told her. While in Longford he paid a brief visit to Kitty Kiernan, Harry Boland’s girlfriend, with whom he could freely discuss confidential matters.

  A few weeks later Brigid informed Collins that the date of Seán’s court-martial was eminent. During the trial, which took place in June 1921, he was found guilty and sentenced to death for the murder of a member of the crown forces. (A short time later when the truce was being discussed MacEoin was still in custody. In one of the terms for further discussion with Lloyd George, de Valera insisted on MacEoin’s release and so forced Lloyd George to relent.)

  Meanwhile Mick was heartened by the success of the guerrilla campaign in his native west Cork. On 19 March, Tom Barry and his flying column had successfully out-fought lorryloads of Tans and Auxiliaries at Crossbarry. This success brought new hope to the IRA throughout Ireland, and was followed by another successful ambush at Rosscarbery Barracks.

  Mick Collins was so elated at the capture of his home barracks that he wrote on 7 April about ‘the splendid performance’ and expressed a wish to meet Tom Barry, ‘the officer who arranged this encounter and carried it out with such gallantry and efficiency’.5

  But his elation was short-lived. Just over a week later, 16 April, in revenge for the Rosscarbery ambush, the dreaded Essex Regiment under Major Percival burned houses in the area including the Collins family home. His brother Johnny, who was in Cork at a county council meeting, was captured as he got off the train in Clonakilty, informed that his home had been burned, taken to Cork Prison and thence to Spike Island.

  News that the Auxiliaries had rounded up neighbours and as hostages got them to pile hay inside the house and sprinkle it with petrol before setting it alight upset Collins greatly. ‘They know how to hurt me most,’ he said, ‘and those splendid children, already without a mother and now without a father or a home.’6He worried about the treatment Johnny would receive, being his brother.

  He was to remember this event and recall it on the last day of his life when he returned to his old home.7

  Though de Valera was pressing for negotiations to open up again with Lloyd George, Collins was determined to fight ‘until we win’. Aware of the problem in the ‘north-east’ since the Government of Ireland Act of 1920, he was determined that the end result should be ‘an Irish republic’.8

  In mid-May 1921, Tom Barry, ‘a wanted man’, posed as a medical student to travel by train to Dublin. In Devlin’s pub he met Gearóid O’Sullivan an
d for the first time he met Mick – the man who had praised him for the Rosscarbery ambush. The day after Barry left Dublin (he had also met de Valera during this visit) the Customs House – centre of nine departments of British administration – was destroyed. The next day Mick had the closest shave of his career. With Gearóid O’Sullivan, he lunched in Woolworth’s as he had often done. The young girl who served them was extremely attentive, and for some reason Mick had a hunch.

  ‘We’ll have to stop coming here,’ he said. ‘She has us taped.’ Rather than returning immediately to his Mary Street office, he suggested to O’Sullivan that they go for a drink. He then told O’Sullivan that he’d go on to his office. ‘I’ve a feeling there’s something wrong in Mary Street,’ he said.

  Back in Mary Street, Ellie Lyons, Mick’s typist, remarked to Sinéad Mason that Mick was over half an hour late. Just as the two spoke they were startled by a noise. A few Auxiliaries dashed up the stairs past Ellie as she walked across the landing. One Auxie, on finding the back room locked, demanded the key from her. ‘We know Collins is in there!’ he shouted. Then hearing what sounded like a scuffle on the landing above, he moved to look. In that few seconds she and Sinéad tripped down the stairs and past the sentries before the alarm sounded.

  This was the second raid on this office within a few weeks. Joe O’Reilly had escaped through the skylight and set out to find Mick. For the first time he found him ‘rattled ... deathly pale and agitated’ at the news. Later that evening when Mick visited O’Connor’s, Mrs O’Connor got the same impression. And that night in Devlin’s he broke down.