A History of Ireland.

Volume 2

by Eleanor Hull

1931

XXIV.—WAR AND CONCILIATION

A short period of hope had intervened when, in May, 1917, it was proposed that a Convention should be held in Dublin lor the purpose of drafting a Constitution for the country. "We propose," said Mr. Lloyd George, "that Ireland should try her own hand at hammering out an instrument of government for her people." The Convention, in which Sinn Fein took no part, met for the first time on July 25 and Sir Horace Plunkett was unanimously elected Chairman. It sat through the autumn and winter but failed to come to any unanimous conclusion, Ulster refusing to make any further concessions. Great good sense and good feeling were manifested throughout the discussions, Lord Midleton especially, speaking for the Southern Unionists, being earnest in his endeavours to find a compromise, but difficulties arose over finance and in regard to a fiscal policy for Ireland, and the effort to mediate between Ulster and the Home Rulers broke down. The Ulstermen argued that they only wanted to be let alone with their rights safeguarded. In the division on the question of Customs, in which the Nationalists of Redmond's party voted with the Southern Unionists and several Labour delegates against the combination of the Ulstermen and a section led by Mr. Devlin, a majority of 38 to 34 was declared, and it became a question whether the Government would consider that this result gave the "substantial agreement" stipulated for when the Convention began. In the General Report, 66 out of 87 concurred on the broad lines of debate, the minority being largely composed of the group which refused to accept any form of Home Rule.

This was a very considerable measure of agreement. But, on March 6, 1918, John Redmond, worn out by anxieties, died; and in the press of the great offensive of the German troops and the push back of the Allies, Home Rule was dropped; instead of bringing in a measure immediately on the presentation of the Report, conscription for Ireland was declared. Though it was never enforced, the threat at this moment served to let loose anarchy in Ireland.

In the meantime Sinn Fein had been active elsewhere. In prospect of the Convention the Government had proclaimed a general amnesty and most of the interned or imprisoned men had returned home. Their leaders now called a Convention or Ard-Fheis of their own, attended by 1,700 delegates from the four Provinces of Ireland, which elected Mr. De Valera President, a post held during the previous years by Arthur Griffith.[1] Mr. De Valera had been one of the last to hold out in the rebellion of Easter Week and he had been condemned to death, but his sentence was commuted to penal servitude. He had recently been released from Lewis Gaol, having been nominated for Clare while he was still in prison, and he now became the rallying-point for the new movement.

[1] D. T. Dwane, Life of Eamonn de Valera (1922), p 63.
The leaders met in Conference at the Mansion House with Mr. John Dillon and other members of the old Irish party, but they found little common ground, while on the other hand, Sinn Fein absorbed into itself the various associations which had been sympathetic to republicanism in any form. Clubs were founded, funds seemed always to be forthcoming, and the military organization grew daily stronger; the young men who had resisted conscription for foreign service flocked by hundreds into the Republican army, attracted by the hope of pay and the love of adventure, as well as by more patriotic motives. They had few trained officers, but they picked up their military knowledge from the official books supplied to British troops, and from the exigences of insurgent warfare. From the moment of the announcement of conscription, many of the priests took the side of the Republicans.

In 1918 it was said that 80 per cent.[2] of the inhabitants of Galway were Sinn Feiners and in the election of that year, out of 105 members returned for the whole of Ireland, 73 were for Sinn Fein. Of these elected members, 36 were in prison, and four deported; only thirty appeared at the sitting. But the claim now made was that of complete independence, with the recognition of Ireland as a separate nationality. On the 21st January, 1919, the newly elected members met at the Mansion House and set up an Irish ministry. They reaffirmed the claim of Ireland to independence and proclaimed the establishment of an Irish Republic; at the same time sending a message to the nations announcing their re-entry into separate nationality. It was the first meeting of Dail Eireann, and it proceeded to make its position effective by capturing local Councils, and setting up Arbitration Courts, which in the terror of the next two years continued to administer justice through the country with general approval, while English law went unheeded; it established an economic commission to enquire into Irish agricultural and mineral resources, and discussed alterations in the educational system.

[2] The Administration of Ireland (1920), "I.O.", p. 57.
In two important efforts the Dail failed to secure attention. One was the presentation of Ireland's case before the Peace Conference, which in spite of persistent Irish propaganda on the Continent and in America, was turned down; the other was an appeal to President Wilson for recognition, but this also was refused. The leaders claimed, with great justice, that Ireland was one of the "small nations" about which the Liberal party were flinging phrases broadcast, and on behalf of whom the war was said to have been fought. The English Government's reply was to proclaim all their acts illegal, and to endeavour to suppress them by force. There were for a period two Governments in Ireland, one acting from outside and upheld by force, the other illegal and often "on the run" but upheld by popular sympathy and implicitly obeyed over large parts of the country.

The Volunteers, now re-christened as the Irish Republican Army, though not formidable as to numbers, were well disciplined, and as their raids on police barracks and private houses increased they became sufficiently armed with excellent weapons. They were recruited from a good class among the population, farmers' sons, schoolmasters, and peasants, who permitted no indulgence or drunkenness in their ranks, and who obeyed orders without questioning from their commanders. They increased rapidly, over 500 men joining their ranks on the day young Kevin Barry was hanged. Early in the struggle, their future Commander-in-Chief, Michael Collins, whose escapes and adventures made him almost a legendary figure, became prominent for his marvellous powers of organization and his incessant activity. When the chief leaders of Sinn Fein were arrested and deported on suspicion of a German plot, Michael Collins occupied himself with forming the loosely knit remnant of the Volunteers into a solid and serviceable body. Though he had only returned to Dublin in January, 1916, after spending the early part of his life in London, he speedily gathered up the strings of the movement into his own hands, and became its acknowledged centre. "The movement as a whole became aware of him, sensed his personality and his leadership, began to love him and to have that trust in him which hitherto they had had in Griffith and de Valera...They found Collins doing everything and leading everything and trusted by everybody. He had won his place."[3] He laid his plans in a systematic manner. His first aim was to outwit and terrorise the members of the Government Secret Service, and to establish a counter-organization which controlled the post office and obtained regular information of the official Castle plans. Spies within the ranks of his own army were tracked and warned, and every man in its ranks was thoroughly tested. By means of "a steady cleaning-up" it was "made unhealthy for Irishmen to betray their fellows and deadly for Englishmen to exploit them."[4] Next the "G" division of the English Secret Service was undermined, and terrible examples were made, the murder of fourteen British officers, believed to be in the Secret Service, on Sunday morning, November 21, 1920, being one of the most dreadful of these acts of vengeance. Reprisals took place on the same afternoon, when the military fired on and killed a number of innocent persons attending a football match at Croke Park.

[3] P. S. O'Hegarty, The Victory of Sinn Fein, p. 26.
[4] Hayden Talbot, Michael Collins' Own Story, pp. 80-81.
Having perfected his intelligence system, Collins next set himself to establish centres, of which Cork, the headquarters of General Strickland, was the chief, from which he could spread his flying columns throughout the country. The effectiveness of these flying columns was testified to during the discussions on the Treaty by Mr. Lloyd George, when the question of Ireland's right to possess submarines came up. "Submarines," said the Prime Minister "are the flying columns of the seas...and I am sure there is no need to tell you, Mr. Collins, how much damage can be inflicted by flying columns! We have had experience with your flying columns on land." Gradually the police and Royal Irish Constabulary were forced to concentrate in specially armoured barracks, often at considerable distances from each other, and upon these attacks were constantly made; while raids and ambushes became of daily occurrence. Ambushes were resorted to both for the purpose of entrapping military or constabulary and in order to capture arms and explosives, the first important take being that at Soloheadbeg Quarry where a quantity of gelignite, intended for quarrying purposes, was captured in January, 1919, by a party of youths who wished to force more active warfare on their comrades, and in which adventure two policemen were killed. The life of Lord French, who came over in May, 1918, as Viceroy, was attempted near the Ashtown gate of Phoenix Park by the same band of irresponsible men on December 19 of the following year, but he escaped by travelling in his car in a different order from that which he usually took.

The murder policy was not popular in the country and was disapproved even by the military leaders of the Republican party Dan Breen, the organizer of many of these outrages, says that neither General Headquarters nor Dail Eireann sanctioned it or accepted responsibility.[5] But as the "war" went on, it became more merciless and the larger part even of the more moderate men were drawn into it, until such terrible deeds as the shooting to pieces of seven lorry-loads of Auxiliaries at Macroom passed without exciting surprise. The country people sheltered and helped the insurgent forces, concealing the hunted men and supplying them with food, money and munitions. In no other way could the struggle have lasted so long. Attacks on police barracks were frequent and between January, 1920, and the beginning of the following year, there were 23 occupied barracks destroyed and 49 damaged. Many more vacated barracks were burnt down. During the same period, 165 members of the police force were killed and 225 wounded, besides civilians murdered, kidnapped or terrorized.[6] Funds were seized or called for under threats of punishment and raids for arms were frequent. One of the worst cases of kidnapping with murder was that of a lady and her manservant who were carried off at night from near Macroom and never again heard of. They were accused of having warned the police of an intended ambush. The sensational rescue of Sean Hogan from the train at Knocklong in May, 1919, was eclipsed by the still more startling rescue of Mr. de Valera from Lincoln Gaol three months before, and his subsequent public appearance in Ireland and America in defiance of the police.

[5] Dan Breen, My Fight for Irish Freedom, p. 34, sq., 119, sq., 83, sq.
[6] Report of the Labour Commission to Ireland.
It will always be a question whether the campaign of murder and arson which made life terrible in Ireland during the late years of the Great War was begun by the advocates of Irish rebellion or those of English repression. Lloyd George asserted that no "reprisals" had taken place on the part of the police or military until a hundred policemen had been assassinated. But Irishmen contended that before any crime had been committed on their part after the date of the Rebellion in 1916, existence had been rendered intolerable by the raids, arrests, and deportations without trial by the military authorities. A certain amount of caution has to be exercised in accepting reports made by interested parties on both sides, often for propaganda purposes. It seems certain however that in 1918, over 1,100 political arrests had been made, 77 deportations, and 260 raids on private houses for the purpose of search for persons or for incriminating documents. Besides these, there had been cases of murder of civilians for which no punishment had been inflicted.[7]

[7] Louis Paul-Dubois, Le Drame Irlandais et I'lrlande Nouvelle, third edition, pp. 78-79.
The arrival of Lord French in May, 1918, as Viceroy, with Mr. Shortt as Chief Secretary was the signal for a policy of ever-increasing repression. From January, 1919, to March, 1920, raids on houses had risen to 22,279, while political arrests numbered 2,332. Newspapers were suppressed, as were all organizations believed to have a republican tendency. The murders of the Lord Mayor of Cork, Thomas MacCurtain, and of the Mayor of Limerick, Michael O'Callaghan, excited great and just indignation. Attempts were made to suppress markets and fairs such as those held at Cashel, Nenagh, Clonmel and Thurles, and to dismantle creameries, on the plea that they were meeting-places for malcontents. Even the landlords protested that such acts did not diminish the number of murders but that they ruined and exasperated the country. Later on, towns and villages were "shot up" either as reprisals for murders of policemen or as the act of drunken and undisciplined soldiers, a number of the principal buildings in Cork,[8] and the towns of Fermoy, Lismore, Balbriggan, Tuam and many others being partly or entirely destroyed in this savage manner. Some of these "reprisals" were admitted by the Government and they aroused much anger in England. The military advisers spoke of "authorised" and "unauthorized" reprisals, and the Government left it to the military to decide which were to be carried out. In October, 1920, Mr. Winston Churchill said that the army in Ireland was costing £210,000 a week [9] and at the moment when conscription was proposed there were nearly 60,000 troops in the country, besides the Dublin Metropolitan Police and the 10,000 men of the Royal Irish Constabulary, who were an armed body recruited from a good class of the population and stationed in small barracks in the country districts. But these were beginning to fall off, partly through sympathy with the insurgents, many of whom were their intimate friends and relations, and partly through the misery to which they were subjected by constant ambushes and unforeseen attacks. In June, 1920, resignations at the rate of nearly a hundred in that one month were being handed in, and Sir Hamar Greenwood stated in the House that, between January 1 and July 16, 250 men had resigned.[10]

[8] The burning of Cork City by the Auxiliaries took place on December 11, 1920.
[9] Sylvain Briollay, Ireland in Rebellion (I'Irlande Insurgée), p. 83.
[10] Ibid., pp. 48, 90 ; General The Right Hon. Sir Nevil Macready, Annals of an Active Life, ii, 481.
It was partly to make up for this depletion in the ranks that after the arrival in April, 1920, of Sir Hamar Greenwood as Chief Secretary, it was decided to augment the forces by sending over some 15,000 new recruits, men largely chosen from the ex-officers of the war, often young cadets glad of fresh occupation and looking on the free life they expected to find in Ireland and the work they were called upon to do much as a sportsman might enjoy the thought of "good sport." Along with these men, known as the Auxiliary Police Force, came a number of men, many of them of low class, who have left behind them a bitter memory in Ireland. These men were styled by the people with ready wit the "Black and Tans," from the strange medley of dark green police uniform and khaki in which they were hastily fitted out from the deficient military stores; they reminded the populace of a famous pack of hounds belonging to the district in South Tipperary to which they were sent. Ill-disciplined and without competent officers, these men speedily established a reign of terror even in districts that hitherto had been quiet. All semblance of military discipline vanished and henceforth it became impossible to distinguish by which side or for what purpose acts of violence and cruelty were committed.

Law and order disappeared and a reign of terror took its place. The Government talked of an atmosphere of conciliation in one breath and of reprisals and coercion in the next, while Sir Nevil Macready and Sir Henry Wilson demanded that over the whole of Southern Ireland martial law should be proclaimed and loudly deprecated any half measures. As the war lengthened it became on both sides "more brutal and more savage and more unrelievedly black," its worst effect being on the women, who forgot their normal role in life and became the hysterical advocates of war. Ireland was given up to the gunman and the gunwoman.[11] The country suffered a moral collapse.

[11] See P. S. O'Hegarty, The Victory of Sinn Fein, pp. 54-58.
Among the embarrassing incidents of the position was the use of the hunger-strike, adopted in the gaols by the interned and arrested men as a protest against the arrest and imprisonment of untried persons, or their trial by courts-martial. Hunger-strikes went on for lengthened periods at several prisons, especially at Wormwood Scrubs, and excited much public sympathy. It was an unconscious return to the ancient habit of "fasting upon" a creditor so much in vogue in early Ireland, that is, forcing him out of pity to grant demands otherwise unheeded. The suffragettes had set an example of this return to ancient methods and it was adopted by many of the prisoners. Thomas Ashe, during a hunger-strike at Mountjoy, had died as the result of forcible feeding. In the autumn of 1920, in Brixton Gaol, the long drawn out agony of Terence MacSwiney, who had been elected Lord Mayor of Cork on the death of Thomas MacCurtain, riveted on the dying man the attention of the whole civilised world. On both sides it was regarded as a test case. MacSwiney had been more than once interned or imprisoned for Sinn Fein activities as Commandant of the First Cork Brigade of the Republican Army; but apart from his hatred of all things British, he was held to have been personally a just man, respected for his character and abilities.[12] It was this personal attraction that made his long suffering and the courage with which he bore it a cause of sympathy even to people who differed from him fundamentally in opinion.

[12] Yet it was this generally respected man who in May, 1920, shortly before his imprisonment, had ordered some operation of so dastardly a character, that his Headquarters would not sanction it. O'Hegarty calls it "fiendish and indefensible and inadvisable from any point of view," though he does not tell us what it was. It was called off through O'Hegarty's intervention with Arthur Griffith. No doubt the English Government were well informed of the plot.—P. S. O'Hegarty, op. cit., pp. 46-47. In MacSwiney's possession was found an order to construct a bomb factory, and a key to the police cypher code.
The Government had again and again released Irish prisoners who had adopted the hunger-strike and MacSwiney had himself been released on this ground in 1917 without serving his sentence. It was becoming an accepted doctrine that it was only necessary to go on hunger-strike to secure release from gaol. It was evident that this must be brought to an end, and while everything was done to prolong the life of MacSwiney—food, nurses, doctors and all possible alleviations being provided for him—he was not released. His own friends were equally determined; and Terence MacSwiney was permitted to die. He was accorded a public funeral through the streets of London with the full consent of the authorities. From that date hunger-striking ceased. The strike going on at the same time in Cork Prison was called off, Arthur Griffith having written that "as these men were prepared to die for Ireland, they should now again prepare to live for her." Two of them had died, after a still longer abstinence than that of MacSwiney.

On May 25, 1921, Dublin was startled by the setting on fire by the I.R.A. of one of the finest buildings in the city, the Custom House. Men carrying petrol cans invaded the building in full daylight, placed the staff at work in the rooms under a guard, and deliberately fired the building at various points. For weeks the Custom House continued to smoulder, and in it were burned the documents connected with Inland Revenue and Customs, the Local Government Board and other public departments. About the same date, papers were discovered containing plans for incendiarism on the largest scale in England, including the destruction of all shipping in the Liverpool docks, and the entire electric plant of Manchester city—plans which were to have been carried out in a few days.[13]

[13] Piaras Beaslai, Michael Collins and the making of a New Ireland, ii, 214.
Meanwhile the "Government of Ireland" Bill, which was to replace the Home Rule Bill passed before the War but never put into operation, had been fully discussed and was finally passed into law on December 23, 1920. In the circumstances under which it came into existence, it seemed to the majority of Irishmen a mere ruse de guerre, ineffectual and unreal. Yet, except in its recognition of partition, the Act had some good features. The two governments set up, one for the twenty-six Southern counties, the other for the six counties which called themselves Ulster, were given large powers, though with the reservation of some essential services. The provision for a Central Council seemed designed to open a path for future union, which the Bill looked forward to as the eventual wish of all Irishmen, both in the North and South. It did not aim at finality but at a future natural development of opinion. That this was the intention and wish of the British Government is made quite clear by the letter of Mr. Lloyd George to Sir James Craig, when the question was again under discussion. He says, on November 14, 1921, "all experience proves, that so complete a partition of Ireland as you propose must militate with increasing force against that ultimate unity which you yourself hope will one day be possible...Your proposal would stereotype a frontier based neither upon natural features nor broad geographical considerations by giving it the character of an international boundary. Partition on these lines the majority of the Irish people will never accept, nor could we conscientiously attempt to enforce it. It would be fatal to that purpose of a lasting settlement on which these negotiations from the very outset have been steadily directed." And he proceeded to point out the disastrous effect which the creation of new frontiers "cutting the natural circuits of commercial activity" had had in Central and South-Eastern Europe; and the danger that, once established, they tend to harden into permanence. But to all such considerations Sir James Craig,[14] as spokesman for the North, turned a deaf ear, flatly refusing to take any further part in the negotiations. In this resolve he is unlikely to change his mind. "If any person could be found in Ulster to lead the people into the Free State, it will not be by me," he is reported to have said in the Northern Parliament on April 4, 1922.

[14] Now Lord Craigavon.
The position of Ulster took a large place in the discussions on the Treaty in December of the following year (1921). It will be convenient to forestall a little and deal with them here.

The Treaty presented to Northern Ireland a choice between two courses: either to remain in the Irish Free State, retaining all the powers and the whole area conferred on her by the Act of 1920, with her own Government and Parliament functioning and her individuality maintained, in which case there would be no need for a boundary revision; or to exclude herself from the Free State, in which case a revision of her boundary was to take place. Liberal safeguards were offered by the Free State in matters of religion and trade, and the full right was given to Ulster to negotiate on all questions effecting her under a unified system; in the words of Mr. Lloyd George in his final letter of December 5, 1921, she would enter the Free State retaining all her existing powers, with such additional guarantees as may be arranged at the Conference. But "Ulster" remained unmoved and hostile.

It is fair to the North of Ireland to remember that when these proposals were made, the South was in the throes of an internal strife which had convulsed the whole country; the newly created Free State might make the most favourable proposals and be perfectly sincere in its intention to carry them out, but it was far from certain that its leaders would be in a position to do so. The chances that the Free State itself might be unable to function, and that a Republican party might grasp the reins of office, were by no means a remote possibility, and the events that immediately followed the signing of the Treaty in Ireland were not of a kind to induce a change of opinion. A new civil war plunged Ireland again into chaos, and the Free State came into existence under circumstances the most disadvantageous that could be imagined. She had to fight for her existence and for recognition even among her own people.

Ulster claimed that by the Act of 1920, the six Northern counties, which would give her a definite Unionist majority, and which alone she felt in a position to claim, were definitely and finally committed to her government. On this her Government took and has always taken its stand. In Clause 1 (sub-section 2) of the Government of Ireland Act, it is laid down that "Northern Ireland shall consist of the Parliamentary counties of Antrim, Armagh, Down, Fermanagh, Londonderry and Tyrone, and the parliamentary boroughs of Belfast and Londonderry. This seemed explicit, but the Free State contended that a new aspect had been given to the matter by Art. 12 of the Treaty which provided for the appointment of a Commission of three representatives for the Free State, the Governments of Northern Ireland and of Great Britain respectively, "to determine in accordance with the wishes of the inhabitants, so far as may be compatible with economic and geographic conditions, the boundaries between Northern Ireland and the rest of Ireland."[15] It might be upheld that the original distribution of territory is safeguarded by the preceding clause, which declares that the provisions of the Act of 1920 "shall, so far as they relate to Northern Ireland, continue of full force and effect" but this clause came to be disregarded and a claim was made for the restitution of two of the largest counties, Fermanagh and Tyrone, to the Free State, on the ground that they had Nationalist majorities.

[15] For Art. 12, see Appendix VI., p. 466.
The problem of majorities in the North is very complicated; in the whole province the Unionist majority was at the time probably about 14 to 11; but the divisions are by no means evenly distributed. In the two disputed counties the Nationalist majority is small, possibly about 15,000 out of a population of 142,665; in Fermanagh, about 7,000 out of a population of 61,836, as given in the Census of 1911. But there have been considerable fluctuations of population since that date and the Nationalist majority has probably decreased. Sir James Craig asserted that he had received a definite promise from the British Government that the six counties were "a clean cut" and final settlement, and that he had never been a partner to any later modification of the agreement. The Free State declared that this agreement did not affect the new d vision demanded by Southern Ireland on the lines of Article 12 of the Treaty. The phrasing of Article 12 is undoubtedly vague, perhaps purposely so, and there has been much difference of opinion as to what was intended by it; whether, that is, it referred merely to slight adjustments of the frontier or to the transference of large districts.

One of the most important statements on the subject was made by Lord Long, on the eve of his death, in which he stated that on one condition, and one alone, could a plan be arranged with the Northern leaders, "and that was, they should receive a definite pledge from me, on behalf of the Cabinet, to the effect that, if they agreed to accept the Bill (of 1920) and to try to work it when passed, it would be on the clear understanding that the six counties, as settled after the negotiations, should be theirs for good and all, and there should be no interference with the boundaries or anything else, except such slight adjustments as might be necessary to get rid of projecting bits, etc."[16] Lord (then Mr. Walter) Long was in charge of the Bill in the House of Commons. The statement is therefore authoritative. The matter having been brought by him before the Cabinet, they unanimously agreed to give the definite promise to Carson and Craig, who then reluctantly agreed to accept the Bill. It was not welcomed by any Party. "The Liberals boycotted it...the Conservative party took no interest in it...the Ulster people stood coldly aloof." Sinn Fein took no notice of it.

[16] The Times, September 30, 1924.
The Boundary Commission met in the year 1925. Ulster refused to send a representative on the ground that no change in the boundaries could be contemplated. Judge Feetham, appointed by the British Government, presided, and Professor Eoin MacNeill represented the Free State. The chairman took the view that only minor adjustments could come under consideration, and Mr. MacNeill resigned. In consultation in London in December it was agreed to ignore the whole boundary provisions of the Treaty, and leave the original boundaries unaltered; but in return the Free State was released from her agreed obligations to share the National Debt.

Belfast has a large stake in the country, and her relations with the Free State are a factor of importance in her trade. In 1919 Belfast exported ships to the value of £10,000,000, linen yarn and goods to the value of £35,000,000, machinery valued at £2,000,000 and manufactured tobacco to the value of £2,000,000 apart from excise duty. In that year the total value of Irish exports was £176,000,000, and the total value of her imports was £159,000,000. In 1920 the figures rose to £61,000,000 for Belfast imported goods, out of a total of £204,000,000 for the whole country. The export trade has also increased. Of this trade, a fair proportion, some £30,000,000 in 1919, and some £40,000,000 in 1920, is with the Free State.[17] Since that date, the state of the country and the general commercial depression have adversely affected trade, not only with the south but with Britain and with foreign countries. When the commercial interests of the two States are considered, and the volume of trade that depends on their close proximity, the paramount importance of friendly relations between them becomes evident. Large numbers of persons in the North are depending directly on the industries and trade taken by the Free State.

[17] Handbook of the Ulster Question, issued by the N. E. Boundary Bureau (1923), pp. 126-127.
The present situation is costly as well as unsatisfactory. These practical considerations re-enforce the more abstract ones of love of country and fellow-feeling among its people as a whole. Only the growth of mutual confidence and respect between North and South can bring about the much to be desired re-union between the two sections of the Irish people, at present dis-united. But with the growing sense that the Free State has settled down to govern, and intends to govern on practical and tolerant lines confidence will, we may hope, be restored and the more comprehensive handling of national problems take the place of local interests. The inhabitants of the North as well as of the South are proud of the name of Irishman, and we believe there is a larger proportion of Ulstermen who would welcome re-union than is commonly supposed. Ulster was the cradle of Irish romance, the dwelling-place of Cuchulain, greatest of heroes, and of the champions of the Red Branch; of Deirdre of the sorrows, and Emer, and Fand; the cradle, too, of Irish Christianity, it boasts the primacy of Patrick and the birthplace of Columcille. Later, it gave some of the most famous names to Irish history, such as Shane and Hugh and Owen Roe O'Neill, Hugh Roe and Rory O'Donnell. With such names, household words among their countrymen the world over, it is not surprising that a break between the North and the South seems unthinkable. But only mutual confidence can unite the disjointed provinces. A speech of Mr. Blythe, Minister for Finance in the present Dail, though couched in homely language, expresses a truth that the North will understand. "The way to remove this division is not to bother with the people who are outside the State, not to find fault with them or revile them, but to get on with our own tasks." If this had been the policy of the last ten years, there might have been no trouble about the boundary question. But the murder and boycott of Catholics in the North, and the official boycott of Ulster by the South have both left bitter memories, and broken down all hopes of union for this generation. Both crimes made partition actual in thought and inevitable in policy.[18]

[18] In two years 447 Catholics were killed and over 9,000 driven from employment. A still larger number were driven from their homes. In the reprisals that took place, Protestants and Catholics suffered indiscriminately, though the Catholics suffered most.
END OF CHAPTER XXIV