increasingly obvious that matters were quickly approaching a critical point due to the continuing aggression of a very small and, as yet, uncoordinated, minority within the Volunteers, as witnessed by the wounding of Head Constable Clark by Donncadha MacNeilus in Cork on 4 November 1918; the release of MacNeilus from Cork jail by an armed group of Volunteers seven days later; and the murder of two RIC constables at Soloheadbeg, Tipperary on 21 January, the date on which the War of Independence is credited to have begun. Also, in the mistaken belief that severe policing would annoy the local community to such an extent that they would become intolerant of such violence and would want to quieten the guilty parties, Dublin Castle, in early February, declared South Tipperary to be a special military area. The plan failed. Nobody betrayed Breen, Treacy, Hogan (Seán) and Robinson. However, some people became annoyed with officialdom and it was this smouldering hostility which created the environment for still further violence.4
These then were the types of unstable factors which complicated the otherwise neat paper list of Mulcahy’s duties as CS, namely: ‘the development of the company, battalion and brigade organisation, the enforcement and encouragement of discipline, the attempt to build up a supply of arms, and the perfections [sic] of communications’.5 In particular, in continuing to develop the brigade structure which Collins, as DO, commenced in November 1918,6 he discovered that the nub of the problem was that some counties, like the already mentioned Cork and Tipperary, were much more enthusiastic and efficient than others, a discrepancy which can only, in part, be explained by the diverse quality of local leaders, who, invariably, were elected by their own units rather than selected by GHQ.7 For that reason, Collins intended to give talented officers the chance to control larger tracts of land than would otherwise be the case if they remained within their own companies.8 For instance, counties Cork and Clare were each divided into three brigade areas and meetings to consolidate them were under way by early January 1919, with further initiation conferences being held under Mulcahy’s charge during the period, July–August 1919.9
But, at the same time, similar to the pacifist anti-conscription campaign of April–May 1918, de Valera, as President, and Brugha, as MD, wanted to do the direct opposite, i.e. to curtail the fervour of the most active Volunteers. Also, more profoundly, on 10 April, when the Paris Peace delegation (Seán T. Ó Ceallaigh and Erskine Childers) was contemporaneously trying to secure favourable copy in publications like Temps and Journal de Debats,10 de Valera put down an international marker concerning the civil–military relationship. In terms of sovereignty, he said: ‘There is in Ireland at this moment only one lawful authority, and that authority is the elected Government of the Irish Republic.’ In terms of the Volunteers, he said: ‘The Minister of National Defence is, of course, in close association with the Voluntary military forces which are the foundation of the National Army.’11
However, he did not claim, indeed he could hardly claim, that ‘the Voluntary military forces’, particularly the members of army GHQ, Collins above all others, were scrupulously mindful of the deference owed to Brugha as their parliamentary regulator. The reason was that, at that particular time, many Volunteers believed to the point of heated debate – until Brugha came up with an American inspired oath – that they owed allegiance solely to their own executive. Basically they did not trust the Dáil for fear that in certain circumstances it might abandon the republic.12
In the meantime, however, despite a show of bravado in the Dáil – ‘let those [English?] people know that if they are sincere, that’s fine, but if they are not, the Irish Volunteers are here and ready if needed’13 – Mulcahy, in a way which was different to how he had partnered Collins after May 1918, was not ambivalent on the current moderate stance championed by Brugha and de Valera. For example, although he cautiously kept it to himself,14 he disapproved of the Soloheadbeg incident because it upstaged the inaugural Dáil session in the press coverage.15
Moreover, probably in his capacity as AMD, he became involved in some of the placatory propaganda exercises encouraged by the Dáil. For instance, in early April 1919, at the behest of de Valera, he travelled to Limerick to help monitor a tense labour strike, which had been called after the city was proclaimed a military area in response to a fatal skirmish between the Volunteers and the RIC16 and, on 3 May 1919, he accompanied the American delegation of Frank P. Walsh, head of the National War Labour Board, ex-Governor Edward F. Dunne of Illinois and Michael J. Ryan of Philadelphia, who, having failed to make an impression at the Irish Race Convention at the Paris Peace Conference, came to Ireland in order to familiarise themselves with events. Their report on ‘outrages and violence committed by the officers and representatives of the English Government in Ireland’ was later forwarded to Robert Lansing, the American Secretary of State.17
At any rate, once the authorities declared the Dáil an illegal organisation on 10 September 1919, followed by the banning of Sinn Féin two months later,18 extremism quickly supplanted moderation. An indication of that change was the number of TDs who turned up at Trinity College during the late autumn of 1919 in order to assist in the first of many failed assassination attempts on Lord Lieutenant French. MacCurtain, Ó Murthuile, J.J. Walsh, Diarmuid O’Hegarty and Béaslaí being present, the joke among the Volunteers was that Dáil Éireann was there.19
Mulcahy similarly moved with the times. On 7 September, he had been in the difficult position of trying to slow down the pace of hostilities by, for example, giving permission to the Volunteers to attack some of the King’s Shropshire Light Infantry on the condition that there would be no casualties!20 At roughly the same time, he warned South Tipperary’s activists that no means of identification should be found on their person in case of capture or death. This was because such identification might provide the evidence which the British were seeking in order to link the Dáil to the growing number of atrocities: ‘There must not even be a laundry mark on your clothing to identify you.’21 The idea was the following: ‘part of the function of G.H.Q. staff at the time was without dampening down the will to resist aggression, to keep any aggression or activity at a level that it could be regarded as the taking of forceful initiative on our part.’22
But, after 10 September, Mulcahy’s job was no longer to restrict such activities. Rather, he was to allow them to proceed in a coordinated fashion so that they would become more effective. The intention was that brigade commandants would submit monthly reports of their activities and that plans would be submitted to GHQ for sanction.23 For example, Cork No. 1 Brigade was refused permission for a particular action in its own area lest that would jeopardise the chances of a successful attack on Lord French.24 However, the clearest indication of the change in Mulcahy’s role was his part in the founding of The Squad on 19 September 1919. The Squad, which was initially formed to eliminate spies and informers, was intended to be an elite corps. It had the sanction of the Dáil and would take its orders directly from Collins. If Collins was unavailable, then either Mulcahy or McKee would take his place.25
Two months later, Terence MacSwiney came to Mulcahy and earnestly sought permission for Cork to partake in a 1916-type rising.26 Mulcahy’s reply was that Cork might be better employed if it struck simultaneously at a number of RIC barracks. Hence, battalion commandants from three different areas in Cork were given one month to ready their men for an attack on one barracks in each of their own hinterlands. All three attacks were planned to happen within two weeks of each other and the men were to avoid taking life if at all possible. On 2 January 1920, Carrigtohill barracks was stormed, followed in due course by Kilmurray and Inchigeela. In turn, these successes led on to the decision that henceforward Collins would organise intelligence and Mulcahy would take charge of general activities. (Some over-lapping did occur.) Accordingly, during the ensuing three months, Mulcahy conducted an overview of the country in order to ascertain what other districts could follow Cork’s example.27
As a consequence, the RIC was forced to abandon small remote barracks and to take up fortified residence in the largest. Together with the ostracising of the force by the people under the leadership of Sinn Féin, Mulcahy’s campaign proved very successful in bringing an end to the era when, to coin a phrase, the RIC was the eyes and the ears of British intelligence in Ireland. This was dramatically illustrated on 3 April 1920. On that day, the Volunteers were able in one clean stroke to incinerate more than 300 evacuated RIC barracks. Some days later, thirty income tax offices and a further ninety-five evacuated barracks were put to the torch.28 GHQ’s objective would seem to have