to fifty thousand people at Fenway Baseball Park, Boston, at the end of June. The Boston Globe captured the atmosphere of the occasion:
Such a reception as only the head of a Nation is accorded – and it is certain that only one who had the love, respect and confidence of the Irish people could get any such reception. To say that it was thrilling is putting it mildly – it was electric. The heart and head of the people of Irish blood were in it. In Éamon De Valera was personified the fulfilment of their hopes, and the very mystery which attaches to this man, who was comparatively unheard of until recently, somehow fulfilled the dreams of the race, that some great figure would arise at the crucial moment and lead Ireland to freedom.46
On a clandestine level, the tour took place in the midst of a sustained campaign of personal vilification of de Valera and his trusted lieutenants, Mellows, Patrick McCartan, Diarmaid Lynch and Harry Boland – all elected members of Dáil Éireann – by the old vanguard of Clan na Gael, centred around Devoy and his powerful ally Cohalan.47 The split ostensibly emerged after an interview with the Westminster Gazette, carried by the New York Globe in February 1920 in which Dev made an analogy between the relationship between Cuba and the US, and potential future relations between Ireland and Britain.48 Dev’s clumsy wording was seized upon by the Clan leadership as a fundamental withdrawal from the demand for Irish sovereignty and he was attacked in the Gaelic American newspaper. The feud was damaging and unnecessary and fuelled by egos on both sides, particularly those of Devoy and Cohalan, who resented Dev’s instant fame and his usurpation of the leadership of the Irish in America. The affair necessitated a hasty return to Ireland for Patrick McCartan who assured the Dáil Éireann cabinet ‘the trouble is purely one of personalities’.49 The fall-out from the episode saw Mellows further ostracised by the Clan and failing to find manual work, he was employed as a teacher of Irish and history in the Carmelite Priory in Manhattan. The Carmelites were to offer sanctuary from the turmoil and during his subsequent ill health, he recuperated at the Order’s seminary, St Albert’s College, Middletown. De Valera’s supporters went on to establish the American Association for the Recognition of the Irish Republic in Washington DC, in November 1920, as a means of circumventing the Clan’s controlling influence over the Friends of Irish Freedom.
Return: The War of Independence
On 10 October 1920, ‘Edward Moore’ disembarked at Southampton from the American vessel Philadelphia, on which he had worked the Atlantic crossing from New York as a stoker. ‘Moore’ was physically unsuited to the relentless labour, however, and took ten days to recover before departing for Ireland. Mellows, alias Edward Moore, had finally returned home after almost four unhappy years in exile, determined to make his mark on the burgeoning revolution. Mellows’ father died on 10 July, providing added impetus to his desire to return; Liam’s mother Sarah wrote, ‘Don’t grieve, never was there a more peaceful and happy death … He got a long glorious time with every possible attendance to fit and prepare him, that is all our consolation to know that he has died so happy a death and to the last his repeated saying was “keep Willie away or they’ll hang him like Casement.’”50
Mellows took lodgings at 131 Morehampton Road, the house of Mary Flannery-Woods and her husband Tony, a salubrious address nestled among the homes of the traditionally unionist upper-middle classes of South Dublin. Unknown to their neighbours, the Woods’ home was being used by Wexford TD Sean Etchingham as a safehouse and Mellows was to base himself there for the next eighteen months, developing a close bond with the family. With the War of Independence escalating and Crown Forces’ reprisals spiralling on a daily basis, the capacity of the republican leadership to adequately arm their active service units became problematic. The problem provoked a re-organisation of the Volunteer GHQ with James O’Donovan, a chemist, appointed director of chemicals, tasked with securing raw material for explosives; Sean Russell, as director of munitions, tasked with the manufacture of ammunition and bombs; and Mellows, as the new director of purchasing, charged with the sourcing and importation of arms and explosives.
The new roles were essentially complimentary and replaced the previously haphazard approach that was reliant on individual endeavour and a network of IRB contacts. Mellows’ new position demanded immense secrecy and it is unclear how successful he was, as a dire lack of weapons remained a serious problem with local units frequently reliant on their own ingenuity to arm themselves. As ever, however, Mellows threw himself into his new role with characteristic commitment; a comrade recalled, ‘Liam was plunged into a whirlwind of activity ranging not alone all over Ireland and England, but to Germany, where Robert Briscoe was buying automatics, Mauser rifles and ammunition, and when the truce came (he expected it to be short lived) he intensified his work.’51
Glasgow and Liverpool were the main ports of entry of arms into Ireland and to explain his frequent travels to suspicious customs officials, Mellows travelled under the name Anderson, and subsequently Nolan, posing as a respectable businessman, complete with dyed hair, moustache and a copy of the Times of London.52 Mary Flannery-Woods recalled that during the period he stayed at her home, Mellows rarely went to bed until 3 a.m. and with his associates ‘would talk till dawn which meant an hour or two hours sleep before another day’s work’.53 Cumann na mBan member Una Daly became Mellows’ secretary in June 1921 and remembered, ‘Mrs Woods’ house was an open house to everybody associated with the movement and there were people always coming in and out, sleeping and eating there at all hours. I don’t know how she fed all the people that came. Officially I had digs, but I slept often at Woods’ and I stayed up two whole nights typing work for Liam.’54
Mellows’ new role sat uneasily with him and his suitability for the appointment was probably assumed due to his previous experience in attempting, unsuccessfully, to import weapons to Ireland while in New York. Mary Flannery-Woods believed Mellows yearned to be at the cutting edge of the fight with the newly emerging flying columns but his characteristic sense of duty prevented him, ‘It was Liam’s fate to be attached to organisational details when his kind and heart were out in the thick of conflict. During the Tan War his eyes turned longingly toward the “Flying Columns” in the hills of Ireland. But though he dallied with the idea of joining one of them, he recognised that his duty lay in the line his ability demanded – organisation – and he with a soldier’s heart, stifled his longing and “kept to his last.”’55
In his role as director of purchases, Mellows was technically responsible to Cathal Brugha as Minister for Defence in Dáil Éireann but the two men barely tolerated each other; as Flannery-Woods recalled, ‘Liam often told us that Cathal would sit all night with his mouth like a rat trap over a half crown if it went wrong.’56 Although Brugha was also an out-and-out militant and shared Mellows’ suspicion of politics, the former’s austere and dictatorial manner alienated him from the more affable Mellows. Ernest Blythe claimed Mellows ‘always complained of Cathal’s rigidity, of his stinginess with official funds, and of his crankiness, and gave me the impression that he found him a most difficult man to work with’.57
Mellows’ relationship with Michael Collins also soured at this time and Flannery-Woods admitted that despite their working relationship, the two men ‘were not in each other’s confidences’ with Mellows even refusing to share a safe house with Collins as he was ‘interfering with his job as Director of Purchases by buying arms across the water and paying more for them than he was. He was buying them, he said, not to use them but to prevent him from getting them.’58 Mellows’ resentment extended to the IRB, over which Collins retained immense personal sway, and he ceased attending meetings of the Brotherhood at the height of the independence struggle.59 In doing so, Mellows placed himself outside the influential circle of IRB devotees of Collins who were to give unstinting support to the new Free State in 1922.
The procuring of arms involved dealing with sympathisers among the Irish community in England and Scotland, as well as shady arms dealers and criminals with the constant danger of being exposed, double-crossed or robbed.60 Mellows was frequently forced to exert his authority over republican units in Glasgow and Liverpool, which met with mixed success. Seamus Reader, officer commanding the Scottish Brigade, was summoned to a meeting in Glasgow in May 1921 where Mellows grilled him over plans to liberate Frank Carty, Sligo republican leader, from the clutches of the police.61 Mellows argued against the plan on the basis that it would disrupt the supply of arms from the city by antagonising the