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You are > Home > A banjo accompaniment to the strangest Ballina procession
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Wednesday, July 21, 2010
A banjo accompaniment to the strangest Ballina procession
By Jim McGuire
THREE decades after the actual event, a retired reporter from the Western People recalled the events of Friday, January 14,1921, when the normal schedule of preparing for the weekly printing of the paper on the giant Goss Rotary press was interrupted to report the arrival of a detachment of the ‘Auxies’ to supplement the Crown forces of occupation who had taken over the Moy Hotel as their headquarters.
They were the Auxiliaries, former British Army officers who had been demobbed into humdrum civilian life from which they were glad to be rescued by advertisements in ‘The Times’ inviting ex-officers with good war records to join ‘the Corps d’elite Auxiliary Division’ of the RIC who sought according to the advertisements:
"Men of courage, discretion, tact and judgement, pay at £1 per day, rank of RIC Sergeant, allowances, uniform supplied, generous leave with pay. Apply now.’
The ‘Auxies’ were given the pay and symbols of the officer class signalled by the carrying of .45 Webley revolvers in open black leather holsters and sporting high leather boots.
Behind the thin veneer of rank they masked a brutality of operation accelerated by the ability to descend upon towns and villages in their Crossley tenders, line up the inhabitants outdoors against walls and question men, women and children, beating up five or six locals with the butt ends of their revolvers. Ballina was to have a curtain raiser on all this from arrival of the ‘Auxies’ in January 1921 with a promise of some ‘sport’.
The ‘Auxie’ definition of sport was defined in the ‘Western’ of May 23, 1953 under the heading ‘A Reporter Recalls’ when local papers were relieved of the threats of destruction and staff injuries by Crown forces for publishing anything depicting the undisciplined nature of the occupying forces.
The junior reporter Tommy Hennigan in his recollections of what became known as ‘The Ballina Flag Incident’ supplied the first background account of how he made a personal contribution towards the relief of Ballina from armed terrorism and humiliation of civilians. Victims gave evidence in compensation claims before post Truce courts and these claims opened up the full extent of civilian suffering by which freedom was bought if only to be dishonoured by such sell-out betrayals as disguising party tribalism as patriotism.
The 1921 humbling of Ballina was plotted before the actual arrival of the Tan convoy in the town. What followed was the round-up of six of the principal merchants of Ballina with Sinn Féin connections who were lodged in the barracks in Charles Street, as it was then named, before an Urban Council’s decision to honour heroes at the expense of local heritage. The merchants picked by Crown sources for ‘sport’ were: Messrs John and Michael Moylett of Moylett Bros; Pat and Michael Beirne of Beirnes Bakery in Bridge Street; Martin Corcoran, a draper in Bridge Street; And Dominick Molloy, a vintner also of Bridge Street.
The report that appeared in the Western in 1953 reconstructs the scene:
‘Slowly to the strains of an old banjo borne by one Shaughnessy, a local celebrity, there emerged from Charles Street one of the strangest processions that ever trod the streets of Ballina. At the head was an old sports car, moving slowly and manned by about half a dozen Auxiliaries, some clambering on the bonnet and all brandishing revolvers. Behind in doubled file and flanked by still more armed Auxiliaries came the unfortunate merchants.
‘One in front bore aloft the Union Jack whilst in the rear another trailed the Republican flag. Pressing close behind came still more Auxiliaries, all wildly hilarious, alternatively shouting, singing and pummelling their unhappy captives with the butt-ends of revolvers.’
The ‘sports’ were on, the circumstances being reported in retrospect by the Western People in carrying the death notice of John Moylett so many years later.
The obituary reported on the infamous parade:
‘Subsequent enquiries revealed that the procession after parading the principal streets was halted at Tyler’s Cross where unsuccessful efforts were made to compel the prisoners to join their captors in the singing of ‘God Save The King’. Here also the unhappy instrumentalist Shaughnessy, who it appears had been specially ‘engaged’ for the occasion also disappeared from the scene – to the accompaniment of sundry kicks from his retainers when they discovered that his repertoire did not include the British National Anthem.’
‘Finally, after the merchants had been forced to their knees on the muddy streets in an effort to make them kiss the Union Jack, they were set at liberty, the Republican flag being meanwhile publicly burned under force by one of the captives.’
A full account of the incidents subsequently appeared in the February 1922 edition of the ‘Ballina Herald’ reporting claims of £2,000 each by the six merchants at the Ballina Quarter Sessions before Judge Doyle.
The applicants were represented by Mr. Price K.C. who recounted the tribulations of the six who had been told they would be given a walk around the town of Ballina as it was the last time they would ever see it.
The men were not young men and they had to carry heavy poles with Union Jacks and they had to be carried aloft. If any of the men for a moment allowed his hand to drop, he was subjected to a kick in the ribs or a blow from a revolver and made hold it up again. They forced one of the Moyletts –John – to trail a Sinn Féin flag in the mud and compelled him to keep a stooping position all this time.’
Michael Moylett told the court how the Auxiliaries came to town on January 13 and he received a visit from two of them with a Black and Tan. They asked him for his brother’s address and he could not tell them. They then abused and cuffed him, telling him he was a member of the murder gang. They threatened him and told him to clear away by the next train if he valued his life. On the following day when he was eating his dinner an Auxiliary officer came to take him out. When he asked to take his coat he was told he would not need it as he would be in hell shortly. He was taken to the Moy Hotel where the other claimants were assembled and they had to parade around the town, Mr Molloy was punched with revolvers, knocked down and made kiss the flag.
Mr Corcoran was punched in the mouth with a revolver and put bleeding.
Evidence was given that the six were given a lecture on loyalty in the Moy Hotel and the lecturer said if anything happened to a loyalist or a member of the Crown forces in the district, the six would go down and their houses would go up.
Justice for the six had to wait another year before a Free State court assessed compensation from what could have been a major act of terrorism on Ballina citizens had there been a fatality.
As it was the court awarded Michael Beirne £200, Mr. Martin Corcoran £105 and £100 each to Messrs John Moylett , Michael Moylett, Dominick Molloy and Pat Beirne with costs and expenses based on the medical evidence given. The real reward lay in the exposure of methods used by Crown forces on helpless citizens.
The first hint of official Crown discomfort came as Michael Moylett gave evidence of being visited by two Auxiliaries the next day who asked him to say that he did the march voluntarily.
The change in treatment came as a result of the reporter’s decision to dispatch a factual report of the ‘parade’ to the Dublin paper for which he was a correspondent. The result was a wire from Dublin Castle to the local commander seeking explanation for the events in Ballina which, as a result of the despatch from the local correspondent, were given spreads in the ‘Freeman’s Journal’ and ‘Independent’ the morning following the Ballina ‘parade’.
The ‘Western People’ journalist was hauled before an officer in khaki who had the Dublin morning papers spread out on his desk under a loaded revolver. When our man agreed that he had sent in the despatch, came the truculent demand ‘Who told you to send it?’
followed by an incredulous ‘You sent it on your own responsibility without being sure it was correct?’
‘I witnessed the incident and I am sure it is correct,’ replied the reporter. ‘I would be glad if you would point out where it is incorrect.’
‘Well,’ proceeded the officer with an air of virtuous indignation, ‘you state that these men were arrested and compelled to march with flags. They were neither arrested nor compelled to march. We simply asked them to come to the barracks and to carry the flags and they did not object.’
The officer then went on to demand that that the reporter immediately wire a contradiction of the report for the next edition of the paper. This duly appeared and, as it was intended to, excited the derision of the whole nation and stinging broadsides from the Dublin papers.
Any fears about further questioning as a result of the revelations saw the unexpected exodus of the ‘Auxies’ holus bolus to some distant area being replaced in the words of the ‘Western People’ staffer by ‘another set of the same ilk’.
‘Rumour had it,’ he wrote with due modesty ‘that their departure has been hastened by the exposure accorded their misdeeds on that memorable Friday and I felt no small pleasure in being the humble instrument of ridding the town of as choice a set of blackguards as ever afflicted a civilised community.’
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