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LETTER FROM TIMOTHY ENRIGHT
(Nephew of Lieutenant Daniel Enright)
"Twas the feast of St Patrick
By the dawn of the day;
The hills of Tirconaill
Stood sombre and gray;
When the first light of morning
Illumined the sky,
Four brave Irish soldiers
Were lead forth to die."
So run the opening lines of Michael McGinley's ballad of the Drumboe
Martyrs. On that March Morning in 1923, Ireland was symbolically
united by that lonely but heroic scene in Drumboe Castle, Co. Donegal,
for the four Republican soldiers who faced the Free State firing
squad had come from Derry in the North and far away Kerry in the
South. The hazards of the guerrilla struggle against the British
and the Free State forces had brought together Comdt.- General Charlie
Daly, Brig. Comdt. Sean Larkin, Lieuts. Tim O'Sullivan and Daniel
Enright among the hills and valleys of Donegal, where their song
of liberty and devotion to Irish Republicanism was blithe on their
lips when the volley rang out which sent them to their martyrdom
and inscribed their names in Ireland's Roll of Honour.
The tides of a whole generation have rolled over the tempestuous
passions of the Civil War, the greatest disaster in Ireland's eight
centuries of struggle. England had often tried to use Irishmen as
pawns in the old imperial game of divide and rule. When she finally
flustered her way through and imposed her will at the London conference
table, a scar was left on Ireland's soul which could not easily
heal. We of the present generation can only look back with increasing
wonder and deepening respect at the men of the Irish Republican
Army who, heart-sore, once again resumed the offensive for freedom;
heart-sore because now it was to be brother against brother. How
bleak the vision had become. No more the united and happy comradeship
which finally brought the Black-and-Tans to heel; no more the carefree
laughter along the hill tops, or round the welcoming fire in a farmer's
kitchen. The soldiers of the Republic trudged back to seek new haunts
and choose the hearthside carefully for the old haunts were known
to their former comrades, and the old hearthside might have a welcome
no longer.
Hammered at by a constant barrage of deceit and camouflaged treachery,
many people were lead away from their allegiance to the aspirations
of Tone and Emmet, Pearse and Connolly. But Ireland unfree could
never be at peace, and when the clarion-call was issued once again,
it found a ready answer in every corner of her four green fields.
The Irish Republic rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Cathal Brugha
fighting to the last in a Dublin street; Liam Mellows and Rory O'Connor
falling before a firing squad; the men of Ballyseedy and the men
of Drumboe; the gallant Seventy-Seven: they have a special place
in Ireland's heart, for they fought the bitterest fight of all,
and they were faithful to the end.
Mankind has only been able to move forward because, whenever the
torch of freedom flickered low, there were those who, at the cost
of life itself, stood forward and passed it ablaze to the next generation.
They are the heroes who are not born so, but who reach heroism on
the tide of circumstance; and Ireland has never lacked them. They
have come from humble cottage and luxurious mansion; from the wild
seaboard or the tranquil cloister of the university; men for whom
soldiering is not a calling but a painful duty. Charlie Daly, Sean
Larkin, Tim O'Sullivan and Daniel Enright would have been content
to plough a quiet furrow in a peaceful Ireland, provided it were
also a free Ireland, for to them it was a passionate truth on which
there could be no compromise that 'Ireland unfree shall never be
at peace'. In affirmation of this truth, they gave their lives.
Speaking at the first commemoration ceremony of the Drumboe Martyrs,
Seamus O Grianna said:
"This time last year Drumboe was the scene of a terrible tragedy.
Four young men were taken from their cells in the grey dawn of a
March morning, and their souls were hurled into eternity by a volley
from a firing squad. Their relatives were not allowed to see them
before they went to their doom. You have come here to stand on the
spot where Daly and his comrades fell, to pay tribute to their sufferings
and sacrifice for Ireland. We have come to send a message down to
Kerry and to tell them that we will remember Drumboe as long as
they remember Ballyseedy. Tirchonaill is rich in historic spots,
but Drumboe will be regarded in years to come as the greatest and
holiest spot in the country - holier than Gartan's lakeside where
Columba was born; greater than Donegal Abbey where the Four Masters
wrote the Annals; more inspiring than the Rock of Doon where Hugh
Roe O'Donnell was crowned, because while those other places are
associated with achievement attained when the tide of victory was
with us, Drumboe is symbolic of one of those sacrificed which in
the words of Terence MacSwiney, has the land unconquered and unconquerable".
No more inspiring epitaph could be spoken; and the passing years
have vindicated the stand made by the Drumboe Martyrs. But Ireland
is not yet a nation; only by helping her to take her place among
the nations of the earth can we honour the memory of the Drumboe
martyrs and the rest of her countless patriot dead. This is the
task for which the present generation must work might and main.
And it is a task that can be achieved, for the British Empire is
tottering. "Guerrillas", "bandits", "terrorists",
"rebels", are daily heard in the unctuous tones of a BBC
announcer, or scream at us from the self-righteous headlines of
the British press. But to Irishmen, they have a different ring.
British imperialism has had to yield major concessions since the
end of the second world war. India and Pakistan, Ceylon and Burma
in the Far East; Egypt in the Middle East; and the African territories
of Nigeria and the Gold Coast have all won the elementary right
of self-government. Since liberation they have played varying roles
in the world community of nations; and one of them, India, has become
a major power whose favours are courted by both East and West. The
vital energies and talents of these peoples, long crushed under
the grinding wheel of imperialism, are given full vent, and the
world gains. For every step imperialism is forced to take backwards,
mankind takes two giant steps forward.
Ach ní bheidh an obair críochnaithe nuair a bheidh
brat na Poblachta ah eitilt i ngach áird den dtír,
mar ní bhei Éire saor go dtí go mbeidh sí
Gaelach farais sin: go dtí go mbeidh teanga bhinn na Gaeilge
le cloisint ó Chiarraí dtí Tír Chonaill,
ó Chonamara go dtí Baile Átha Cliath. Níl
de bhac orainn an obair sin a thabhiart chun críche ach thabhairt
fuithi.
It remains for me to express the appreciation of the relatives
of the Drumboe Martyrs to the Committee of the Co. Donegal Martyrs
Memorial Fund for erecting the fitting and lovely memorial to the
Drumboe martyrs last Easter, and for bringing out this volume which
I have the honour of introducing. Though they came from outside
her borders, the four patriots won a lasting place in the hearts
of the people of Donegal.
Halifax, Yorkshire
January 1956
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