On August 30, 1921, Éamon de Valera sends a sharp reply to British Prime MinisterDavid Lloyd George as the two sides move closer to formal peace negotiations. The letter comes during a tense period when the British have presented their “Proposals of the British Government for the Irish Settlement” — offering Ireland “within the Empire…in allegiance to His Majesty’s throne” with Northern Ireland’s Unionist government remaining in place, full British naval access, and other imperial arrangements.
De Valera’s response is a stinging rebuke to Lloyd George’s approach. He reiterates Ireland’s determination to be “free from Imperialistic entanglements,” while still offering “reasonable guarantees not inconsistent with Irish sovereignty.” He makes clear that Ireland could enter a treaty of free association with the British Commonwealth but could not accept the British government’s right to “mutilate our country.” This is a direct challenge to the British insistence on loyalty to the Crown and continued imperial ties.
The exchange reflects the core conflict in the talks. The British position requires that Ireland must remain part of the Empire, with some form of association and recognition of the King’s sovereignty. The Irish position maintains that Ireland must be fully independent, with no coercion of Northern Ireland, and with sovereignty intact.
By August 30, both sides have softened their initial positions enough for Lloyd George to send a revised invitation to negotiate in person. De Valera’s letter is part of the diplomatic back-and-forth that culminates in his acceptance of the conference on September 30, 1921, marking the start of the most consequential peace talks in Irish history.
In essence, the August 30 letter is both a political statement and a diplomatic signal — asserting Irish sovereignty while leaving room for a negotiated settlement, and setting the tone for the negotiations that would soon begin.
On May 28, 1914, Childers and Figgis travel to Hamburg, Germany, to buy 1,500 Mauser rifles and 49,000 rounds from arms dealer Moritz Magnus, Jr. The rifles, though obsolete, are still serviceable and fire a high-caliber round. To transport them, Childers offers his yacht Asgard to carry 900 rifles, while Conor O’Brien takes the rest on the Kelpie.
The Asgard, a 50-foot gaff ketch built by Colin Archer, leaves Conwy, North Wales, on July 3. The outward journey is uneventful, but the return is stormy, with the rifles filling the cabin and crew sleeping on them. On July 12, the yacht meets the German tug Gladiator at the mouth of the Scheldt, loading the arms.
On July 26, the Asgard reaches Howth. The unloading in daylight draws a crowd, prompting police and military intervention. A riot erupts, and the King’s Own Scottish Borderers are ambushed at Bachelor’s Walk, resulting in the Bachelor’s Walk massacre — four civilians killed and at least 38 wounded. Despite the violence, the guns are secured.
The Howth gun-running is the first major military operation in Ireland’s 20th-century independence movement. The rifles are later used in the Easter Rising of 1916, including at the General Post Office. The event underscores the role of Anglo-Irish republicans in arming the Volunteers and foreshadows the armed struggle that follows.
In short, July 26, 1914, marks the arrival of a critical arms shipment in Howth, a bold act of defiance against British control and a direct response to Ulster’s gun-running, with lasting consequences for Irish history.
(Pictured: Erskine Childers at Asgard’s wheel on her 1914 gun-running voyage)
The Coalition Government, led by Prime MinisterDavid Lloyd George, is in power from 1918 to 1922 following the end of World War I, continuing the wartime alliance that has included Liberals and Conservatives. By 1920, the Cabinet is navigating Spain’s post-war reconstruction, the political unrest in Ireland, social welfare issues, and economic stabilization following wartime disruption. This period also sees preparation for negotiations over Germany’s reparations and engagement with international diplomacy after the Treaty of Versailles.
The Coalition Cabinet keeps detailed minutes and memoranda, which are recorded in the CAB 23 series as “Cabinet Conclusions,” starting from November 1919 into the interwar years. These records summarize discussions and decisions but are not verbatim transcriptions.
While the specific agenda for July 23 is not directly cited in the sources, relevant Cabinet business during July 1920 includes:
Reconstruction and Post-War Economy: Addressing unemployment, social welfare of returning servicemen, and government budgetary priorities.
International Diplomacy and Reparations: Review of ongoing negotiations concerning German reparations after World War I, potentially preparing for discussions later in London and Paris.
Regarding Ireland, the Cabinet is divided on how to proceed. Some Liberal ministers and Dublin Castle officials are in favour of offering dominion status to Ireland. Conservative ministers argue that the Government must crush the insurgency and proceed with the Government of Ireland Bill. Debate continues after the meeting, with Walter Long warning of “the gravest consequences in Ulster” if the Government changes course.
In summary, the Coalition Cabinet convenes on July 23, 1920, in the context of post-war governance, with ministers like Lloyd George, Bonar Law, Curzon, Balfour, and Churchill participating. While exact meeting details require consulting official CAB series records, the issues at hand involve post-World War I economic recovery, Irish affairs, and international obligations stemming from the Treaty of Versailles.
(Pictured: Prime Minister of the United Kingdom David Lloyd George)
On July 21, 1920, the Belfast Shipyard Expulsions take place as thousands of Catholic workers and socialists in Belfast’s shipyards are attacked and driven from their jobs following Edward Carson’s speech on the Twelfth at Finaghy during the annual industrial holiday. This day marks the first day back at work after the holiday, and the violence erupts in the shipyards, particularly in the Harland & Wolff yards.
The disturbances are part of a wider Belfast pogrom in 1920, rooted in sectarian tensions between unionist and nationalist communities. The Twelfth of July celebrations in Finaghy have been a focal point for nationalist and socialist mobilisation, and Carson’s speech is seen by many Catholic workers as inflammatory, stoking fears of reprisals.
The targeted groups of the expulsions include Catholic workers, trade unionists, and socialist activists, many of whom are from the working class “plebeian” strata. Reports describe beatings, assaults, and intimidation in the shipyards, with workers being pushed out of their posts or forced to leave premises. The expulsions disrupt shipbuilding operations, as skilled labour is removed from the workforce overnight. The events reinforce sectarian divisions, with unionist groups and some employers using the violence to assert control over the workforce.
By July 1920, newspapers are the main source of news, with current affairs often appearing on later pages. Coverage in papers such as the Belfast News Letter, Belfast Telegraph, The Irish Times, and Freeman’s Journaldescribe the expulsions as part of a broader outbreak of violence, but without the front-page headlines typical of later conflicts. The absence of radio broadcasts means that news is spread through print, handbills, and word of mouth.
The July 21, 1920, expulsions are a turning point in the sectarian conflict in Belfast, marking a shift from political mobilisation to direct, violent confrontation in the industrial heart of the city. They reflect the deep entrenchment of sectarianism in the shipbuilding industry and foreshadow further violence in the years leading up to the Irish Civil War.
At the start of the Irish Civil War in June 1922, the Free State controls only Dublin. Anti‑Treaty forces, forming the so‑called Munster Republic, hold Cork, Limerick, and Waterford, along with much of the west. Waterford’s republican garrison has fortified the city, dismantled the drawbridge’s control equipment, and isolated the port by removing wireless and other communications.
On July 16, republican forces learn that Free State troops ae moving toward Waterford. They raise the drawbridge early and move vessels from the Kilkenny side to the Waterford side. On July 18, Prout’s column is spotted from Sallypark Hill, prompting republican machine gun and rifle fire. A Free State volunteer, Costeloe, is wounded and later dies.
From July 19, sniping continues across the River Suir. On July 19, the Free State brings the 18‑pounder artillery into position overlooking the city, bombarding republican positions. The republicans hold key buildings such as the Adelphia Hotel, Country Club, and Reginald’s Tower.
By July 21, Free State forces cross the River Suir downstream at Gyles Quay, enter the city, and drive out republican troops from their positions. The drawbridge on Redmond Bridge is lowered by hand, and republican reinforcements from Cork and Tipperary either withdraw or do not engage. The Free State takes Waterford on July 21, 1922, ending the republican hold on the city.
Two anti‑Treaty volunteers, Maurice McGrath and John “Bonny” Boyle, are killed. Two Free State soldiers, Sergeant James Howlett and Michael Costelloe, are killed. At least six civilians are killed, including Joseph Dwan, William Long, and a 10‑year‑old girl. Many civilians are wounded.
The fall of Waterford marks a key Free State victory in the conventional phase of the Irish Civil War, contributing to the re‑capture of major southern cities and paving the way for the later guerrilla phase.
(Pictured: John T. Prout at his wedding to Limerick native Mary Conba at St. John the Evangelist Church (O’Loughlin Memorial Church), Kilkenny, July 12, 1922)
Will is on duty when he is killed by a bomb during the attack. The IRA’s assault is unsuccessful, but it results in Will’s death and the serious injuries of two other RIC officers. His service number is 70974.
Posthumously, Will is awarded the Constabulary Medal for Gallantry for his bravery under fire. According to RIC forum records, the medal is presented on December 22, 1920.
Will serves in the Scottish Horse Regiment during World War I, where he is wounded just a week before the Armistice. After his death, his body is brought back to Scotland by steamer, and his funeral is attended by RIC officers. His family has roots in Kincardineshire, Scotland, with his father, William Will, and grandfather also named Alexander Will.
Will is remembered as one of the early RIC officers to die in the Irish War of Independence, and his death marked a significant moment in the conflict’s early years. His story is commemorated in police remembrance records and in centenary tributes.
In 1921, McCaughey’s family moves to the Ardoyne district in north Belfast. Hus father is a founding member of the Irish republican Dungannon Clubs and organizes the first branch of Sinn Féin in County Tyrone. As a teenager he joins the Gaelic League and Sinn Féin and also becomes a long time student and teacher of the Irish language in the Glens of Antrim. He joins the IRA in 1935 and in 1938 is promoted to Officer Commanding (O/C) of its Northern Command, headquartered near the town of Carrickmore, County Tyrone, which is the ancestral home of Joseph McGarrity and Patrick McCartan, both leaders of the Irish republican organization Clan na Gael. In December 1939, he is arrested and imprisoned at the Curragh Camp. After being released in 1940 he returns to the Northern Command of the IRA. He is held in high regard and is considered to be one of the best officers of the northern IRA. At the time of his arrest in Rathmines, Dublin, on September 2, 1941, he is acting Chief of Staff.
In September 1941, McCaughey is found guilty by a Dublin court of having detained and assaulted Stephen Hayes, IRA Chief of Staff, who was accused of being a spy for the Irish Free State government. Hayes escapes and later testifies against him at a Military Court. He is sentenced to death by firing squad. His sentence is commuted to a life sentence of penal servitude.
Imprisoned in Portlaoise Prison on July 24, 1941, McCaughey joins other IRA prisoners in the ongoing blanket protest. Refusing to wear a criminal’s prison clothes, he is kept in solitary confinement and spends nearly five years naked except for a blanket. This form of resistance by Irish republican prisoners is also used in the 1980s blanket protests in the Maze prison (also known as “Long Kesh”) and the HM Prison Armagh (women’s prison) in Northern Ireland. He and other Irish republican prisoners endure years of hardships. Sitting month after month, year after year in bleak solitary cells, they are taken out once a week for a bath, and for the rest of the week live the life of an animal trapped in a burrow. That they do not go mad is a remarkable comment on mans capacity for survival. During his almost five years in Portlaoise, he Is never permitted to have visitors.
McCaughey commences a hunger strike on April 19, 1946. After ten days, he stops taking water and dies on May 11, 1946, the twenty-third day of his protest. An inquest is held in the prison at which the prison doctor admits that during his over four and a half years of imprisonment that McCaughey had never been allowed out in the fresh air or sunlight and that “he would not treat his dog the way Seán McCaughey had been treated in Portlaoise.”
McCaughey is the last person to die on hunger strike in the Irish state. There is a long history of hunger striking in Ireland – within the 20th century a total of 22 Irish republicans die on hunger strike with survivors suffering long-term health and psychological effects. Four men die during the 1920 Cork hunger strike. The largest hunger strike in Irish history is the 1923 Irish hunger strikes, during which five men die. Ten men die during the 1981 Irish hunger strike.
(Pictured: Seán McCaughey (right) and Charlie McGlade, O’Connell Street, Dublin, 1941)
On July 1-2, 1915, in Gallipoli, Turkey, when, owing to hostile bombing, some of his troops had retired from a sap, Sergeant Somers remains alone there until a party brings up bombs. He then climbs over into the Turkish trench and bombs the Turks with great effect. Later on, he advances into the open under heavy fire and holds back the enemy by throwing bombs into their flank until a barricade has been established. During this period, he frequently runs to and from his trenches to obtain fresh supplies of bombs.
In a letter to his father, Somers writes:
“I beat the Turks out of our trench single-handed and had four awful hours at night. The Turks swarmed in from all roads, but I gave them a rough time of it, still holding the trench. It is certain sure we are beating the Turks all right. In the trench I came out of, it was shocking to see the dead. They lay, about three thousand Turks, in front of our trenches, and the smell was absolutely chronic. You know when the sun has been shining on those bodies for three or four days it makes a horrible smell; a person would not mind if it was possible to bury them. But no, you dare not put your nose outside the trench, and if you did, you would be a dead man.”
Somers had previously been severely wounded during the Retreat from Mons in August 1914.
Dillon leaves school at the age of fourteen and for seven years works as a painter and decorator, mostly in London. From an early age he is interested in art, cinema, and theatre. About 1936 he starts out as an artist.
Dillon’s Connemara landscapes provide the viewer with context, portraits of the characters who work the land, atmosphere and idiosyncratic colour interpretations. At the age of 18, he goes to London, initially working as a decorator. With the outbreak of World War II, he returns to Belfast. Over the next five years he develops as a painter in Dublin and Belfast. His works during this period are more than simple depictions of the life and people around him, they are reactions and interactions in paint.
In 1942, Dillon’s first solo exhibition is opened by his friend and fellow artist, Mainie Jellett, at The Country Shop, St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin. “Father, Forgive Them Their Sins” depicts his concerns about the new war that has broken out. Despite a growing reputation, he returns to London in 1944 to work on demolition gangs to restore his finances. In the late 1940s and during the 1950s, he finds himself favouring the town of Roundstone, County Galway. In 1951 he is introduced to Noreen Rice by her piano teacher. She has no formal training and takes Dillon and George Campbell as her mentors for decades and her work is of a similar surrealistic and primitive style.
In 1958, Dillon has the double honour of representing Ireland at the Guggenheim International, and Great Britain at the Pittsburg International Exhibition. He and his sister, Mollie, have a property on Abbey Road in 1958. They let out part of the house to Arthur Armstrong and they let a flat to Noreen Rice and her brother. He and Noreen tour junk yards to find objects like leather and string that they include in their artwork.
Dillon travels widely in Europe and teaches for brief periods in the London art schools.
In 1967, Dillon suffers a stroke and spends six weeks in hospital. From this time his work changes direction. A notion of imminent death sends his work almost into another world, a realm of dreams and paintings intimating his death. In 1968 he is back in Dublin, where he helps to design sets and costumes for Seán O’Casey‘s play Juno and the Paycock. He continues to paint and also to make tapestries, sitting at his Singersewing machine.
In 1969, Dillon pulls his artworks from the Belfast leg of the Irish Exhibition of Living Art in purported protest during the Troubles against the “arrogance of the Unionist mob.” However, he does send work to Ulster when he donates work to Sheelagh Flanagan who had organised an exhibition for the relief of victims of the Belfast riots, in October 1969. His picture is hanged alongside the donated works of T. P. Flanagan, William Scott, F. E. McWilliam, Deborah Brown and Carolyn Mulholland as well as more than twenty others. Michael Longley retorts in a further letter, “Belfast needed creativity, it needed people like Gerard Dillon.” During his last years, he is invited to be involved in a children’s art workshop in the National Gallery of Ireland.
Dillon dies of a second stroke at the age of 55 on June 14, 1971. His grave, as requested, is unmarked in Belfast’s Milltown Cemetery. Danlann Gerard Dillon/The Gerard Dillon Gallery in Cultúrlann McAdam Ó Fiaich is named in his honour.
In his biography of the artist, James White briefly touches on the artists homosexuality: “such was his religious feeling that although he was drawn to people of that type, if he once had an encounter I believe that it never occurred again.” The artist’s nephew, Martin Dillon, recalls that after his uncle’s death he found a diary entry describing a homosexual encounter with a sense of guilt, but the author Gerard Keenan insists he was “a very well-adjusted homosexual.” Reihill expands on this, pointing to a probably unrequited love for the painter Daniel O’Neill and also highlights Dillon’s association with Basil Rákóczi and The White Stag Group‘s Kenneth Hall both strong gay connections. Pictures with both overt and covert references are known.
Milligan is the son of an Irish father, Leo Alphonso Milligan, a regimental sergeant major in the British Indian Army, and English mother, Florence Mary Winifred (née Kettleband). He is raised in India and Burma (Myanmar). He is educated at the Convent of Jesus and Mary, Poona, and later at St. Paul’s High School, Rangoon. He moves to England with his family in 1933. He serves in the army during World War II and, when he is wounded in combat, begins a struggle with manic-depressive illness that lasts the rest of his life. Toward the end of the war, he meets Harry Secombe, and they work together entertaining the troops. After the war the pair, along with Peter Sellers and Michael Bentine, begin spending time at the Grafton Arms pub, where they develope their comedy routines. BBC radio begins broadcasting the group’s work in 1951, as Crazy People, and in 1952 it is renamed The Goon Show. As such it continues until early 1960 (though Bentine soon leaves the show) and becomes a cult classic.
Milligan later acts onstage and in small parts in movies—including Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979)—and writes numerous books of poems, war memoirs, the play The Bedsitting Room (with John Antrobus; first performed 1962), and a number of television series. He also supports a multitude of causes, especially those involving the environment. Because his father is Irish and he is born in India—and despite his years of military service—the British government does not consider him a citizen. Rather than take an oath of allegiance, he takes Irish citizenship. Nonetheless, he is made an honorary Commander of the British Empire in 1992 and is given an honorary knighthood in 2000.
Milligan dies from kidney failure, at the age of 83, on February 27, 2002, at his home on Dumb Woman’s Lane near Rye, East Sussex. On the day of his funeral, March 8, 2002, his coffin is carried to St. Thomas Church in Winchelsea, East Sussex, and is draped in the flag of Ireland. He had once quipped that he wanted his headstone to bear the words: “I told you I was ill.” He is buried at St. Thomas’ churchyard but the Chichester diocese refuses to allow this epitaph. A compromise is reached with the Gaelic translation of “I told you I was ill,” Dúirt mé leat go mé breoite, and in English, “Love, light, peace.” The additional epitaph Grá mhór ort Shelagh can be read as “Great love for you Shelagh.”
According to a letter published in the Rye and Battle Observer in 2011, Milligan’s headstone is removed from St. Thomas’ churchyard in Winchelsea and moved to be alongside the grave of his wife, but is later returned.
seamus dubhghaill 