by Meda Ryan
They laid a mine and Barry himself was prepared to rush the front door when the explosion went off. The plunger was depressed but no explosion followed. The rifle-men opened fired, the defenders sent out rockets, and after much shooting and wasting of ammunition nothing happened; no re-inforcements appeared. Barry cursed himself for his dummy attack. He also cursed the useless explosive; they must try to find an explosives expert! ‘Rifle and revolver bullets were about as useful as snowballs against those strong enemy posts.’[10]
He left four men behind to keep the garrison busy, and marched the rest of his column north-westward to Brinny and on to Newcestown, which they reached on the morning of 28 January 1921. Barry was aware of the courage of his men, prepared to walk into towns and villages and openly attack fortified barracks. He sent two small sections to harass the Bandon enemy posts and prevent them from resting, while the flying column moved off to Ahiohill to billet. Now, he set sights on the well-fortified Rosscarbery Barracks. Tom Kingston, a British Loyalist known as Lord Tom, was the owner of Burgatia House, a large mansion a mile outside Rosscarbery. Through the IRA civil courts he was charged with espionage. As well as constantly conveying information on IRA activities, he secretly carried all ‘Military mail’ between Rosscarbery and Clonakilty enemy garrisons. Expecting a long and arduous battle at Rosscarbery, Tom Barry decided to take the family hostage and billet his men for a day’s rest. It was a daring idea with the house so close to Rosscarbery and retreat cut off by the sea, but Barry had a plan made and scouts well placed.
Barry found that ‘a continual worry’ for him were the ‘nests of British Loyalists’ when he was preparing for an engagement. There was ‘a possibility that an informer would see the flying column pass, and slip in to report to the forces that the IRA were preparing for ambush.’ It required constant vigilance.[11]
At 3 a.m. the column moved in and took Lord Tom and his household hostage. The house was well stocked, so Tadgh Sullivan and a few more men prepared a great feed of bacon, eggs, bread, butter and tea for all. John L. O’Sullivan and Paul Leary were to meet Lar Cunningham and go into Clonakilty to bring out a suspected spy for trial at Rosscarbery. John L. recalls: ‘we set out walking from Castlefreke to meet Cunningham. When we met at Clonakilty he told us that the order was countermanded; we were to go to Ballyvackey and pick up our rifles there and go to Sam’s Cross where orders would be left for us. We went on, picked up our rifles and then on to Maurice Collins’ house (Michael Collins’ brother). It was four o’clock in the morning. Maurice came down the stairs to tell us Barry left instructions that we were not to go to the column at that hour, as he was afraid that dogs barking or any other noise would draw attention to where the column was; we were to go back and be with the column at half-nine in the morning.
‘We both went home as we felt, being on the run, we may not have a chance of being home for a long time again. When I think of the irony of it ... I was just coming down the stairs at half-eight in the morning when British military who had come on cycle patrol were inside in the hall before me.’
John L. was then arrested, questioned and knocked about. He was certain that only for Fr Hurley arriving on a sick call, he would have been severely beaten that morning. Blood was already flowing from his mouth. He was sent to Spike Island where he got a ‘woeful doing’ and then to Maryborough until after the Truce was signed.[12]
Lord Tom was put on trial at Burgatia House. Barry led the questioning which continued for over an hour. Since the beginning of the year Barry had become very conscious of ‘the menace of spies’. Lord Tom admitted that he had been secretly engaged in carrying dispatches between Rosscarbery, Dunmanway and Clonakilty garrisons. During their intelligence mail raids, Barry said, ‘We wondered why there was no mail going to Rosscarbery’. Lord Tom confessed he constantly took the mail in his motor-car. ‘He was only trying to organise an anti-Sinn Féin Party in the interests of peace’, he explained. In summing up Barry told Kingston that he deserved to die. The evidence of spying against the army of the elected government of his own country was strong against him, but not conclusive. He would spare his life, as he had not caused the death of any member of the IRA. ‘Once this siege is over’, he told Kingston, he would have 24 hours to leave the country. His house would be burned; his property would be forfeited to the Irish Republic to be distributed to the brigade men in the area who were without means of subsistence, as it had originally been taken from the Irish people during the Plantation. Kingston appeared ‘surprised and relieved that he was not to be shot’.[13]
Lord Tom had only gone to his room when Jack Corkery rushed in to announce the arrival of the postman. A former regular soldier in the British army, this man might, if left complete his rounds, report the IRA presence. His not returning, however, might also cause trouble. When brought to Barry and questioned, he said he was in sympathy with the IRA and swore on Lord Tom’s bible that he would quietly go on his rounds and say nothing. He was released at 12.30 p.m.
Three and a half hours later sentries noted a movement of Black and Tans in the woods, and further reports indicated that army lorries had been sighted. The postman had sold the day. Barry had sent a man, as a civilian on horseback to monitor movements. Mick Deasy, ‘column sentry with revolver’ located in the ‘adjoining avenue’ was one of the men covering the rider. ‘Shots were fired at the horse’ from military ‘in concealed positions’. Barry had, of course, foreseen this possibility. Immediately he ordered the Volunteers into their positions. Their backs were to the sea and ammunition was, as always, scarce. The only way open to them was to fight their way out. But with only 40 rounds for each rifle Barry had the haunting fear of encirclement. He ordered his men into their strategic positions; some sections would have to move swiftly outside, but not yet. He told them not to fire until he blew the whistle. The enemy opened fire from a distance, smashing windows. They dropped down and continued to advance firing, but got no response. They were knocking sparks off the stones of the house. Puzzled, they moved closer as Barry had hoped. He blew the whistle. A burst of IRA fire rang out. The enemy scattered off in disorder. Barry dispatched further sections to follow up until eventually all was quiet.[14]
This incident shows the discipline of Barry’s men. Had only one of them panicked and disobeyed orders, the outcome would most likely have been disastrous for the column, as encirclement and reinforcements would soon follow. According to Jim Kearney, ‘There was one amazing feature about Barry. When he set up an ambush, he never looked for a line of retreat. He went out to fight and to win. He always thought positively. If you look at many of the ambushes, take Kilmichael and Burgatia, if the tables were turned, if it went the other way, they would be wiped out! In open countryside, or at the water’s edge, there was no means of retreat. But he went out to win, and win he did.’[15]
Burgatia House had to be burned that night; to wait would add to the possibility that the house would be heavily guarded later, Barry sent his men off to billets. Then with Jim Hurley and Con O’Leary he returned, piled the furniture, sprinkled the place with paraffin and set the house ablaze. In anticipation he waited in hiding with his two companions for an hour, but the Tans did not come out. At 10 p.m. the three men moved off, circling Rosscarbery until they got behind the barracks. In a sheltered position, crouched behind a wall overlooking the barracks, they opened fire on the soldiers who were moving around. Soon the enemy retaliated heavily and accurately. The men escaped through the hills and went off to join the column at Kilbree.
Some critics would say that the Burgatia ambush was a futile exercise, a waste of valuable ammunition. Putting this question to some of the men who took part, brought the response that it was ‘another example of Barry’s tactics’. The chance was worth taking so that the men would be well rested and ready ‘to take on Rosscarbery Barracks’. But the postman who informed the military foiled that attack. The success of the escape boosted their morale, and it also ‘showed the British forces that the IRA was a stron
g army’.[16]
According to Barry the attack on the enemy in Rosscarbery on the night of the Burgatia ambush was imperative as a matter of prestige. This was typical of his tactics. After the Bandon raid he remained behind with nine men to use some fire; after Kilbrittain he was one of four; in Innishannon he remained with three and now with two others in Rosscarbery. He decided on this demonstration as proof that the IRA was always prepared for more.
British propaganda reporting went into action. The Daily Sketch reported that Michael Collins (whose elusiveness and dare-devil deeds in Dublin were great at the time) led an ambush on a white horse in Burgatia near his West Cork home place: ‘20 constables were attacked by 400 rebels …’
Michael Collins in a letter to his sister wrote: ‘… 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.’[17]The propaganda publicity department stated that ‘the rebels lost six dead’, but the constables suffered no casualties. But no casualties meant no compensation! Yet claims were heard by the county court and reported in the press 25 April. According to An t-Óglach, ‘The constabulary who claimed compensation showed a fine sense of loyalty in repeating on oath the fictions of Dublin Castle adding the romantic detail that the rebel cohorts had seven camp fires. Their numbers by the time the claims came to be heard had risen to 500.’ Head Constable Downs ‘swore that during the fight a bullet grazed his nose and went through his moustache, and he had suffered defective memory.’ He was awarded £1,000. Sergeant Twomey who fell and hurt his knee was awarded £35. A few of them ‘felt nervous’ and received £25 each. Others were awarded £25 for incidents such as a wrist watch being hit and a bullet went through a sleeve.[18]
The anticipated roundup that began the following day had Barry with his column trailing the forces for two days as they scoured the countryside. This method was risky. He had to venture as if out on a frozen lake, ‘stepping cautiously.’ Barry found this tactic worked well.[19]
On 5 February he went to John O’Mahony’s, Kilmeen, to attend a brigade council meeting that lasted twelve hours. Decisions were taken to fine-tune their method of ‘cracking the ring of spies and informers’. Mail was to be intercepted and opened only by a responsible battalion officer, and there was to be closer liaison between the three Cork brigades. The trenching of roads was to be undertaken, but consideration had also to be given that while such directive could paralyse the enemy it could also affect the movements of ordinary citizens. Therefore a detailed, responsible plan was drafted for each battalion.
At this time Volunteers Joe O’Regan and Barney O’Driscoll ‘duped’ a prominent Protestant with ‘Loyalist affiliations, to travel to Wales, on a boat, with a cargo of butter from Aughadown Creameries, operated by the O’Regan family. When in Cardiff they ensured that the Loyalist became indisposed through drink while the butter was unloaded’ and the ship’s cargo reloaded. ‘It was customary for the O’Regans to bring back coal when they travelled over with butter.’ On this occasion ‘a consignment of 170 rifles and 10,000 rounds of ammunition was placed in the hold’ before the coal was loaded.
‘On arrival at the customs in Queenstown, the two IRA men paraded the Loyalist up to the customs officer, who, on recognising him, invited the three to tea. The boat then proceeded to the banks of the River Ilen near Aughadown, where the arms were transferred to butter boxes for dispatch, later’, to Tom Barry’s flying column.[20]
Barry discovered apathy among the people in Skibbereen towards the cause of nationalism in the early days of 1921, and it was his intention to enliven the town. The town was garrisoned by a strong detachment of the King’s Regiment, commanded by Col Hudson (a likeable character, according to Barry), which had maintained quite a degree of inactivity. On 9 February at about 8 p.m. Barry, with a column of 55, approached the town. Forty-three were left in ambush position outside the town, and Barry led 12 into the town to engage the enemy. Although they advanced within a short distance of the troops no move was made to oppose them, and when the Volunteers opened fire the sentries were withdrawn. Having shot out the street lamps the IRA took up positions at street corners.
A short while after this, a group of unarmed soldiers came out and were detained by the Volunteers. They were sent off in a commandeered side-car to a near-by farmhouse with orders from Barry that their escorts were to see that they were well fed and supplied with drink. A cheerful party developed apparently. In the early hours of the morning the soldiers, having been brought back to the town in the side-car in a merry mood, sauntered back to the barracks singing rebel songs. If these soldiers had belonged to the Bandon Essex, Barry’s treatment of them would have been totally different; the man who could shoot a spy or kill a soldier was capable of kindness to the enemy who did his work without showing cruelty. They were well treated they were told ‘because of their fair attitude to IRA prisoners’.[21]
Barry and his party retired. They could hold the town but they couldn’t lure the forces from the army garrison; nor did the barracks send out a search party next day. Day was dawning when the column reached billets north of Drimoleague.
With a few men Barry went in the Rosscarbery direction to size up the barracks and town situation for a forthcoming attack. He had just sent a section with Spud Murphy to billets and was moving in the direction of Rosscarbery when a small group of military opened fire on him and his two companions. Kathy Hayes and two other Cumann na mBan members who had been out delivering a dispatch had passed the military. Crossing a field they saw Murphy’s section and informed them; soon they heard gunfire. Spud Murphy guessed Barry was in trouble. He crossed the road, opened fire to confuse the enemy and give them the impression that they were trapped. This allowed Barry and his two companions to escape. Instantly the military retreated to barracks.[22]
Barry then set his sights on Drimoleague Barracks, eight miles north of Skibbereen. He borrowed a respectable coat. Accompanied by a Cumann na mBan member he drove through the village in a pony and trap to view barracks and surroundings.
On the 12 February 1921, having first moved the civilians from the local houses to safety, he and 30 rifle-men launched their attack. Again the explosive failed to go off. Following this Barry decided that unless they could get somebody to make proper explosives, shooting up barracks should be abandoned. He admitted he said more curses than prayers at this juncture. ‘We couldn’t even blow in a bloody door’.[23]
On the morning of 16 February a dispatch with bad news reached Tom about a train ambush at Upton Station led by his friend Charlie Hurley on the previous day. Three IRA men were killed, and one fatally wounded. Charlie was wounded in the face. Six civilians including a woman were killed during the fight in which six soldiers were wounded. Tom got a horse, ‘rode through the night to Charlie’ and arrived at Forde’s, Ballymurphy, next morning.[24] In a letter to Joe O’Regan, flying column veteran and Southern Star, editor, Tom later wrote: ‘I felt far more the deaths of those men in Upton – a military failure – than I did for men who died in military successes … The poor devils [fighters that day] were subject to a lot of criticism at that time so I think I put them [critics] back in their proper place.’[25]
Map of Crossbarry Ambush
During the ten days previous to 15 February, except Sunday, 20 soldiers of the First Essex had travelled each day in one carriage on the evening train from Cork to Bandon. Charlie decided to attack this target with 13 IRA Volunteers. On that particular day the soldiers left Cork in one compartment as usual, but at Kinsale Junction about 36 other heavily armed soldiers joined them and mingled with the civilian passengers.
Two scouts were detailed to travel on the train to indicate the carriage position of the troops. Through a misadventure the men did not get on the train; when it stopped at Upton Station a few IRA men opened the attack on a group of soldiers in the carriage ahead of the troop carriage. The British military replied, killing three. Tom Kelleher, Jim Kearney and Flor Begley someho
w managed to bring Charlie and Dan O’Mahony to safety, though O’Mahony died a few years later as a result of his wounds.[26]
Tom Barry knew that Charlie, who had led the ambush, was not alone physically but also emotionally wounded. However, he assured Charlie that had the scouts travelled and no extra troops got on the ‘attack in all probability would have been a success ... It could be any commander’s story.’ However, he later discovered that the ambush had been sold, hence the extra soldiers.[27]
More bad news awaited Tom when he returned to the flying column on that evening of 17 February 1921. Forces had killed four Volunteers in the Kilbrittain company area. Volunteers were road trenching in the Crois na Leanbh vicinity and on the night of 16 February members of the Essex Regiment surprised them. The Cork Examiner reported that ‘shots were heard in the district’ and next morning four men ‘were found dead in the field’.[28]
Having returned from a brigade council meeting Tom went to bed, but being worried about the safety of the flying column; he rose shortly afterwards to check the sentries and have a general look around. In addition to sentries, he had always taken the precaution of protecting the flying column against surprise attacks by having an outer ring of scouts drawn from the local company. Those scouts were armed with revolvers borrowed from the flying column to fire warning shots in the event of being unable to slip back to the billets to report approaching enemies.
On this particular night Tom, having visited the sentries, went to inspect this outer ring of scouts. Pat O’Driscoll was relieving another man as Tom approached. To ensure that Pat knew his full responsibilities he asked the man to detail his duties for the relief scout. Tom was close to both as they stood about a foot apart facing each other and the scout described his duties. About halfway through his description a shot rang out and Pat swayed. Tom grabbed him and lowered him gently to the ground. He was dead.
