Speech at the Unveiling of a Statue of Roger Casement
Ardfert, Co. Kerry, 21st April, 2016
A dhaoine uaisle,
Tá áthas orm a bheith in Ard Fhearta inniu, sa cheantar seo a bhfuil súntas ar leith ag baint leis i stair na hÉireann. Ní hamháin go mbíonn Ard Fhearta aitheanta le hiarrachtaí Ruairí Mhic Easmainn ar son na cúise, ach le stair ársa na hÉireann chomh maith. Rugadh Naomh Breandán an Loingseoir díreach míle ón áit seo, agus bhí Ard Fhearta ina ionad oilithreachta a raibh tábhacht ar leith ag baint leis i saol spioradálta agus reiligiúnach na hÉireann ar feadh na céadta bliain. Is mór an pléisiúir dom é i gcónaí cuairt a thabhairt ar an ceantar álainn seo, agus gabhaim buíochas libh ar fad as ucht na fíorchaoin fáilte sin.
I am delighted to be in Ardfert today, a place that holds such an eminent place in Irish history. Mentioned as Uí Fearba/Hy Ferbain in the Annals of Innisfallen, the name of Ardfert is associated in the nearer history, of course, with Roger Casement’s efforts in pursuit of Irish Freedom, but we must never forget that it holds a more ancient past.
Indeed, Saint Brendan the navigator was born only a mile from here, and he founded a monastery in this locality in the 6th century, making Ardfert a place of pilgrimage, an important site in Ireland’s spiritual and religious life. The magnificent structure of St. Brendan’s medieval Cathedral is a reminder of that past.
It is always a great pleasure for those who take the opportunity to visit this beautiful part of Ireland, and I thank you all for your warm welcome.
This afternoon we come together to honour the memory of a man who was not just a great Irish revolutionary, but also somebody who is remembered across the world as a great humanitarian. A man who courageously exposed the brutality of colonial rule in the Congo and in the Putumayo, and whose appalled reaction to imperialism in Africa and South America fuelled his passionate commitment to the cause of Irish independence.
On this hundredth anniversary, we remember more particularly Roger Casement’s attempt at importing arms for the men and women who, across Ireland, were getting ready for an armed uprising on that Easter Week 1916, and I am privileged to have this opportunity, mar Uachtarán na hÉireann, to recall those seminal events in the very locality where they unfolded.
It was here in Ardfert, on nearby Banna Strand, that Roger Casement and his two compatriots, Robert Monteith and Daniel Bailey, came ashore in the early hours of the morning of Good Friday, 21st April 1916. The three men had arrived from Germany to Kerry aboard the German submarine U19 to meet The Aud, a German ship disguised as a neutral Norwegian freighter, that was carrying a supply of arms that were intended for use in the fight for Irish independence.
Roger Casement, who had travelled to Berlin in October 1914 as the envoy of the American branch of the IRB, had played a pivotal role in organising this arms shipment. While in Germany, he had also attempted to recruit an Irish Brigade from among Irish Prisoners of War held there. Roger Casement had made clear, in his attempts at recruitment, that:
“The Irish Brigade [would] only fight for the cause of Ireland, and may in no circumstances be used or commanded for a German aim.”
The second man involved in this project was Robert Monteith, who, as a member of the Irish Volunteers, had been deputed by Thomas Clarke to join Casement in Germany and help organise this Irish Brigade. The two men, however, managed to recruit no more than 56 volunteers for their endeavours, of which the third man who landed on the Lonely Strand, Daniel Bailey, was one.
Today it is important to recall Roger Casement’s awareness that, without more substantial support on the part of Germany, any armed Irish rebellion was bound to fail. Eager to stop what he feared would be a doomed bloodshed, he was determined, upon returning to Ireland, to try and convince the nationalist leaders to call off the Rising. Unwilling to send his 56 recruits to fight a hopeless battle, Roger Casement reportedly said:
“I shall not have it said that I handed these men over to the hangman.”
As history recalls, Casement’s U19 and the German ship carrying the arms failed to meet in Tralee Bay. Unable to locate the Aud, Casement, Bailey and Monteith set off for the shore in a small, flat-bottomed wooden boat, which capsized in the surf.
When he reached the shore, Roger Casement, still suffering from the effects of malaria, a recurring illness from his time in Africa, was so overcome with fatigue that it was decided that he would remain in hiding at McKenna’s Fort, as the old rath of Rathcrihane was then known.[1]
Meanwhile, Casement’s two companions walked ahead to Tralee to seek help; and once there, they made contact with Austin Stack, the leader of the local Volunteers’ corps.
When Stack and a few others reached Banna Strand they soon realised, however, that the local Royal Irish Constabulary were already on the scene. They were unable to rescue Casement, who was captured at around 1:30pm that same day, and taken to Tralee’s police barracks, before he was transferred to London to be interrogated and tried for high treason.
The misfortune and, ultimately, tragedy, that marked this last chapter in Roger Casement’s life is one that had ramifications throughout the local community. A Mr. McCarthy, who had gone out to pray in the early hours of that Good Friday morning, noticed the boat in the water on his way home. Mary Gorman, a nineteen-year-old servant girl also saw the three men passing the gate of the neighbour’s house at which she was working, at Rathoneen. Other witnesses included John Hussey, Jeremiah Sullivan, and twelve-year-old Martin Collins.
Today it is appropriate that we recall the memory of all those quiet lives who were touched by the tragedy of Roger Casement. We remember, in particular, how they were taken to London under bench warrant as reluctant witnesses in Roger Casement’s trial – an event that scarred them and their family for many years after. Mary Gorman, for example, emigrated to America from Liverpool, just after the trial, never to return home.
Indeed, the shift in public opinion which followed the executions of the leaders of 1916 meant that Ireland became, in the subsequent decades, an inhospitable place for those who had had any dealings, however small, and however unwillingly, with the British authorities.
A hundred years later, we are able to see these historical facts in a new light. The opening of official archives, the research conducted by so many historians into the detail of local events, the information collected and preserved by the descendants of those who were the participants in those events – all this new archive material and new historical analysis has enriched and deepened our understanding of our past.
Prior to my visit here today, I received very interesting correspondence from people who have researched various matters associated with the events we are commemorating, such as the documents Roger Casement hid at McKenna’s Fort, or the circumstances of the tragic car accident at Ballykissane, in which three Volunteers lost their lives.
This is a demonstration of the great pride and interest the centenary commemorations of the Easter Rising have sparked in local communities all across Ireland and amongst the Irish abroad. Everywhere, there have been manifestations of a new and very positive readiness to engage with these sensitive aspects of our history.
Such openness is indeed to be welcomed. It will be of great importance in the years ahead, when we commemorate such painful developments as the War of Independence and the Civil War, which caused so much suffering and division in our country, and most acutely here, in County Kerry.
Roger Casement had a deep and profound love for his country, its language, culture and history. Despite the tragic turn his journey took in Kerry, Roger Casement expressed nothing but the best sentiments towards the people he met here, both police and civilians. From his prison in London, his recollection of his experience in this beautiful part of the country was one of peace and joy. These are feelings Roger Casement expressed, in particular, in a letter to his dear sister Nina, written on 25th July 1916, as he was awaiting death. If I may quote Casement’s words:
“When I landed in Ireland that morning . . . swamped and swimming ashore on an unknown strand, I was happy for the first time for over a year. Although I knew that this fate waited on me, I was for one brief spell happy and smiling once more. I cannot tell you what I felt. The sandhills were full of skylarks rising in the dawn, the first I had heard for years – the first sound I heard through the surf was their song as I waded in through the breakers, and they were rising all the time up to the old rath … and all round were primroses and wild violets and the singing of the skylarks in the air, and I was back in Ireland again.”
Mar fhocal scoir, is mian liom a rá arís chomh sásta is atáim a bheith in Ard Fhearta ar an ócáid speicialta seo. Seasfaidh an dealbh seo atá á nochtadh againn inniu mar chomhartha ómóis do Ruairí Mac Easmainn, fear mór a bheidh aitheanta le hArd Fhearta go deó - fear a raibh cróga, misniúil, macánta, agus a thug a anam ar son na cúise.
To conclude, may I say, once again, how pleased I am to be in Ardfert on this very special occasion. I would like to thank Tina Wallace for the kind invitation, and all of you for your hospitality. This statue we are unveiling today will stand as an enduring tribute to Roger Casement, a great man whose name will remain forever associated with Ardfert – a man of outstanding courage and integrity, who gave his life for our freedom.
ENDS
[1]It has since been renamed Casement’s Fort.