History is replete with peripheral figures who believed that they had a vital input in critical events in which their involvement was actually little more than token. Hazel’s biographer Sinéad McCoole wrote that ‘the Lavery’s friends believed Hazel played a central diplomatic role during the Treaty negotiations, particularly as an influence on Collins’, but Collins had already indicated the kind of settlement he was seeking and the most her influence could have done was merely reinforce his convictions.
In the video, The Shadow of Béal na Blath, Colm Connolly contended that Hazel Lavery played a vital role in getting Churchill and Collins together, but this is absurd because Collins and Churchill only attended three sub-conference meetings together. The first of those, at Churchill’s home, was almost three weeks before Michael even met Hazel Lavery, and the other two were on the final day of the negotiations.
Sinéad McCoole contended that ‘Collins was a welcome guest at the Laverys’ and would often stay late into the night reading books from their shelves.’ But there were in fact only eighteen nights from the time he first went to Cromwell place and the signing of the Treaty and Collins spent each of the three weekends in Dublin and at least ten night there or travelling to and from London. It seems much more likely therefore that while this friendship began towards the end of the negotiations, the relationship could have developed afterwards. If those Cromwell Place dinner parties that McCoole believed Collins attended actually took place, they were probably during the visits that Collins made to London after the signing of the Treaty.
Following the death of Collins great efforts were made to protect his reputation. It would not have done to portray such an iconic figure as a womaniser and even an adulterer. His first biographer Piaras Beaslaí, who knew him during his immigrant days in London, stated that Collins showed little interest in the opposite sex. ‘The society of girls had apparently no attraction for him,’ Beaslaí wrote. ‘He preferred the company of young men, and never paid any attention to the girls belonging to the Branch, not even to the sisters and friends of his male companions.’ He also added, ‘the usual philanderings and flirtations of young men of his age had little interest or attraction for him.’ Instead he was deeply involved in Gaelic Football and was a very active member of the Geraldines Club in London, as well as being active in the IRB and the Irish Volunteers, which were exclusively male organisations.
The most readable of his biographies – Frank O’Connor’s Death in Dublin, which was published in the 1930s and later re-issued under the title of The Big Fellow, portrayed Collins in a similar light as a young man who was particularly fond of horseplay with other young men. He would burst into a room looking for ‘a piece of ear’, which was his practice of biting the other man’s ear until he surrendered.
Having read those portrayals, a grandnephew suspected that Collins was homosexual. He mentioned this to his grandfather, Michael’s eldest brother Johnny, who was highly amused. He said that if Michael had a problem, it certainly was not that he was not fond of women. By the 1960s a new image of the Big Fellow began to emerge as amorous links surfaced with a range of different women, Kitty Kiernan, Susan Killeen, Sinéad Mason, Moya O’Connor and even one Dilly Dicker, an ubiquitous piano player. There were absurd suggestions that he was exhausted during the negotiations trying to satisfy a number of different women. Peter Hart even suggested in his biography that Collins might have consorted with prostitutes in London. He produced no evidence whatever to support his sensationalist contention; he might just as well have written that any Irishman who ever visited London may have consorted with prostitutes.
In the same sense no evidence has ever been produced to suggest that the amorous activities of Collins, real or imagined, had any influence on the negotiations. But that has not stopped silly, sensational speculation.
The one person who unquestionably had most influence on Collins was Griffith. Collins had admired him as a youngster but did question Griffith’s non-violent approach to the struggle in the aftermath of 1916. Yet the two of them got on well together while de Valera was in the United States, and Griffith was instrumental in having Collins take over as acting president after his arrest in November 1920. Now their relationship would be tempered by their shared experiences under the pressure of the negotiations. They had to confront not only the British but also the dissidents within their own delegation, and the cabinet members in Dublin.
Griffith was clearly feeling the strain of the talks. He was suffering from hypertension, which would kill him within a year. It probably explains his volatility and irritability with the dissidents. He asked Collins to play a greater role in the negotiations, but they both realised that they would have to keep this secret. ‘He and I recognise,’ Collins wrote, ‘that if such a thing were official it would provide bullets for the unmentionables.’ The two of them discussed their apprehensions about those in Dublin.
‘You realise what we have on our hands?’ Griffith asked.
‘I realised it long ago,’ replied Collins.
‘I reminded him when I was young I thought of him as Ireland,’ Collins added.
‘We stand or fall in this together,’ Griffith said.
‘It is the one bright hope of mine in all this welter of action and counter-action,’ Collins continued. It was the one redeeming feature in the whole situation as far as he was concerned. He was becoming increasingly more critical of those in Dublin, the longer the conference went on. ‘From Dublin,’ he wrote, ‘I don’t know whether we’re being instructed or confused. The latter I would say.
‘I will not agree to anything which threatens to plunge the people of Ireland into a war, not without their authority,’ the Big Fellow told Griffith. ‘ Still less do I agree to being dictated to by those not embroiled in these negotiations. If they are not in agreement with the steps we are taking, and hope to take, why then did they themselves not consider their own presence here in London.’ This seemed a far cry from the night that Griffith presided at the meeting of the Sinn Féin Executive in March 1919 when Collins announced that ‘the proper people’ were going to provoke ‘a state of general disorder’ to force a confrontation with the British ‘and they were not to be deterred by weaklings and cowards.’ That brash young man had three months earlier advocated kidnapping president Woodrow Wilson to make him listen to Irish demands, but has obviously learned much since then, because he was the one who deliberately frustrated Cathal Brugha’s plan to kill members of the British cabinet.
Now he was working hand-in-glove with Griffith, whom he had really come to appreciate. ‘He is the kind that takes a lot of knowing,’ Collins told the journalist Hayden Talbot some months later. ‘If he will talk to you will learn things about Ireland that no other man could tell you. It may be that Irish people and the world in general may never appreciate Arthur Griffith until he is dead and gone, but mark my words, it will come.’
Griffith clearly despised Childers and their relationship tended to poison relations within the delegation. In later life Barton tended to be very critical of Griffith and, as the longest survivor of the negotiations, he had a much greater influence on the history of the talks than on the conference itself.
‘It is difficult to realise how Arthur Griffith came to be so closely identified with the Republic party and its leaders,’ Barton wrote in February 1969. ‘So far as I know Griffith, while in Ireland, never confided to any of us that he was not a true blue Republican. He did state that he considered passive resistance to be the form of revolt most likely to bring us success. In the Mansion House he subscribed to the oath of allegiance to the Republic and did not publicly divulge any reservations.
‘And yet,’ in the same note Barton continued in terms that showed that Griffith did speak out, ‘I have the clearest recollection of him standing in front of the fire place in the secretary’s office in Hans Place, London, and declaring that he had always believed that the ideal relationship of Ireland to England was that framed in a Constitution of the
King, Lords and Commons of Ireland – the King being the King of both Ireland and England. How did Griffith come to be able to hide this inconsistency? It was not in his nature to lie. Was it just ineptitude on our part that failed to apprehend it?’
Griffith never did hide his views in relation to republicanism, as Barton’s own writings indicated decades earlier in 1924. ‘Arthur Griffith as a study of his writings and utterances before and since December 1921 shows he was never a Republican or an advocate of physical force. I think this was pretty generally known to all the leaders.’
13 - ‘To go for a drink is one thing’
Once the unionist conference was out of the way, it became possible to concentrate on the Anglo-Irish negotiations again. ‘I think we should now get down to definite business and send them, as far as possible, our firm word; that is a draft which would mark as closely as possible the exact line on the main question on which we propose to take our stand,’ de Valera wrote to Griffith on the same day, 17 November 1921. ‘In that case our draft should be signed and they should be asked to sign theirs before it is sent.’ This was de Valera’s twelfth letter to the delegation, but in it he acknowledged twenty-one messages from Childers. Although he stated that he included Childers in the delegation to keep an eye on Griffith and Collins, he was not giving any advice to Childers. In fact he was hardly even acknowledging his correspondence. Childers would write a week later complaining again that he had not received any acknowledgement of his further correspondence.
Despite all their reservations, Barton wrote that neither he nor his colleagues initially suspected that Griffith and Collins might be prepared to accept dominion status, ‘What we felt was that they were very much easier going than we were and that the English were getting very much the best of it,’ Barton wrote.
While he realised that Childers was inclined to be over officious, he would have been less than human not to have been offended by the contemptuous attitude that Griffith’s displayed towards his cousin. After Griffith refused to call a meeting of the delegation to discuss drawing up formal proposals on 16 November, Childers drew them up himself in consultation with Barton and Gavan Duffy.
Childers was already working on drafting proposals for a treaty on 17 November when de Valera advised such a course. Next day there was a brief meeting of the Irish delegation before Collins set out to Dublin for the weekend. Childers, Barton and Gavan Duffy accused Griffith of delaying the return of Chartres from Germany. “You won’t agree to any appeal to J.C.,’ Barton complained.
Actually Chartres did not wish to return, because he had become disillusioned with the situation. ‘On the subject of the Crown,’ he wrote to Griffith on 8 November, ‘I have put forward ideas which, I think, would deprive the English of any sufficient ground for the revival of hostilities and at the same time keep the monarchy out of Ireland and so preserve intact our republic and its freedom.’
In view of the attitude of the dissidents within the delegation, however, Griffith recalled Chartres urgently. By this stage Collins was trying to hide his own views from Childers and company, with the result that there was very little mention of his contributions in the later Irish reports of the negotiations.
The atmosphere within the Irish delegation was little short of poisonous when Chartres got back on 21 November. The delegation had met at 11.30 am before he returned. Barton had presented the draft treaty drawn up by Childers as his own in the hope of avoiding a scene with Griffith. Of course, everybody would have realised that Childers was behind it. He was clearly over-reaching his authority as chief secretary to the delegation. He was supposed to be facilitating the delegation, not trying to take over, or lead it. But as a member of the cabinet Barton was in a position to introduce proposals as his own and demand that the delegation afford them full consideration. Collins had just returned from Dublin and he brought a rough draft of a treaty from de Valera that was ‘much the same as our memo,’ according to Childers. Griffith raised strong objections to the defence and trade provisions of the draft document and he launched a vicious verbal assault on Childers. At one point he accused Childers of trying to start another war, and he even blamed him for being responsible for starting the First World War with his book, The Riddle of the Sands. ‘I said I stood on the strategical case in both instances,’ Childers noted. The meeting adjourned until 5 p.m.
When Chartres arrived back at Hans Place that evening the delegation was in the middle of another bitter wrangle, which only adjourned when Tom Jones arrived to talk with Griffith. The defence and trade clauses were redrafted.
‘It is exactly like arguing with the British,’ Childers wrote. He added that Collins ‘showed complete ignorance of the defence position.’
At 11 pm Chartres redrafted the document from a jumble of papers. The delegation met again after midnight by which time Collins had left. Barton argued about trade and Childers about defence. Griffith was ‘insolent to me about Secretary altering Drafts,’ Childers noted. ‘I protest and virtually threatened resignation. He climbs down and calls another meeting for 9.30 tomorrow. Document supposed to be ready by 11 tomorrow. ‘
When the delegation reconvened the following morning Griffith admitted that he had not read any of the many documents on defence drafted by Childers. Gavan Duffy suggested that Barton should accompany Griffith and Collins in presenting the draft terms to the British. Griffith objected, but they pointed out that the British had three members at a number of the sub-conference meetings. It was therefore agreed that Barton would go and Chartres was asked to write a memo about the crown.
Griffith blurted out he was personally willing to give allegiance to the crown ‘to save country from war.’ He implied that he was going to tell Lloyd George this, ‘but Barton challenged him on this and he agreed not to do so.
‘Duffy, Childers and I realised at once that our colleagues were not pleased with these draft proposals but after a long discussion and some alterations to the subsequent clauses,’ they agreed to send them to the British. The first three clauses of the Irish proposals of 22 November contained the essence of External Association:
1 Legislative and Executive authority in Ireland shall be derived exclusively from the elected Representatives of the Irish people.
2. Ireland agreed to be associated with the British commonwealth for the purposes of common concern and, in respect of those purposes, to recognise the crown as the symbol and accepted Head of the Association
3. In matters of common concern, which are declared to include Peace and War and Defence, the rights and status of Ireland shall be in no respect less than those enjoyed by and of the component States of the British commonwealth represented in the League of Nations. There shall be between Ireland and these States such concerted action, founded on consultation, as the several Governments may determine.
The defence clauses stipulated that Ireland should, ‘as far as her resources permit’, provide for her own defence and that her rights and status should ‘be in no respect less than those’ of any of the dominions. While Irish bases would be provided for Britain, these would be handed over to the Irish within five years, and Ireland would agree that her forces would not be larger in relation to Ireland population that the British forces were in relation to the population of Great Britain.
‘One of the additions they insisted upon is worth mentioning’, Barton noted. ‘Our draft proposals had made no reference to the exclusion or inclusion of Ulster. We were visualising a united Ireland and it was not our purpose to consider dismemberment but Griffith and Collins insisted that reference must be made to a settlement of this Ulster problem. We therefore were reluctantly compelled to preface the document with this note: “The following proposals are put forward upon the assumption that the essential unity of Ireland is maintained.” And they added Clause 10: “In the event of the existing Legislature of N.E. Ireland accepting its position under the National Parliament. Ireland will confirm that legislature in its existing powers and will undertake to provid
e safeguards designed to secure the special interests of the area over which it functions.” In the opinion of our side of the delegation these references were but a source of weakness.’
Griffith saw Childers as a tiresome obstacle, because he seemed to be forever producing documents, and he found his fussy civil service habits infuriating. Childers made multiple copies of reports stamped all ‘SECRET’ in large bold letters in bright red ink. The sight of the stamp infuriated Griffith. The British realised that Griffith was likely to accept membership of the British commonwealth, but Barton, Duffy and Childers still did not believe that External Association had been explored properly, and they insisted on its inclusion in the latest Irish proposals.
‘The document in many respects marks a big advance on any previous document but is still so worded as to leave the position too ambiguous and uncertain,’ Tom Jones wrote. But Lloyd George was unhappy.
‘This is no good,’ the prime minister said. ‘They are back on their independent state again. These clauses about the Navy won’t do. We must have complete control of Naval defence.’
Jones noted that Churchill had indicated that the Irish could have Simonstown status. By this he was apparently suggesting that the Irish could take over their ports once they were strong enough to defend them.
‘They cannot have Simonstown terms,’ the prime minister insisted. ‘South Africa did not get them until fifteen years had passed during which they had put 70,000 troops into the field on the side of the Empire. When Ireland does that she can have Simonstown terms.’ The prime minister was also disappointed that there was no reference to safeguards for Ulster Protestants. He told Jones to go back and tell the Irish leaders that he would break off the negotiations unless they withdrew the document.
I Signed My Death Warrant Page 17
