Seumas Robinson, a Belfast link to Solohead Beg

The Irish Times has an interesting article about the IRA O/C at the Solohead Beg ambush, Seumas Robinson, who was regarded as a Belfast man, even though he spent a lot of his life in Scotland. He recounts that James Connolly called him ‘towney’ which Robinson says was Connolly recognising both of their connections to Belfast (Robinson was from Benares Street in Clonard).

Robinson’s own, lengthy, account of his activities in the IRB, during the Easter Rising, a detailed account of Solohead Beg and much more can be read here: http://www.bureauofmilitaryhistory.ie/reels/bmh/BMH.WS1721.pdf#page=140

The later controversies involving Robinson, Dan Breen and others, mainly over the 1919 Solohead Beg raid, can be read about here: http://www.theirishstory.com/2014/12/08/a-bitter-brotherhood-the-war-of-words-of-seumas-robinson/#.XEGnMbrp2Ec

Tom Barry’s British Army service records and #Armistice100

On 30th June 1915, Thomas Bernard Barry from Cork (but born in Kerry) joined the British Army at Athlone and enlisted in the Royal Field Artillery,  going on to serve with the 14th Battery in the Mesopotamian Expeditionary Force and Egypt. Barry is better known for his subsequent exploits as Tom Barry, a leading I.R.A. figure and I.R.A. Chief of Staff in the 1930s. Barry didn’t conceal his British Army training and his memoir, Guerrilla Days in Ireland, included details of his military service. His claims to insubordination, including at the time of the Easter Rising, are borne out by his own military service records (as Gunner Thomas Barry, Royal Field Artillery, Service Number 100399).

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Tom Barry’s service records including a list of offences (note ‘Irregular Conduct’ on 27th May 1916, during the Easter Rising).

Att.png

Record of Barry’s enlistment.

Military History Sheet

Details of Barry’s military service.

Barry is probably the most prominent of those who fought during the first world war and subsequently fought in the I.R.A., but there were many others including the likes of Emmet Dalton and Erskine Childers and even a Victoria Cross winner, Martin Doyle.

The complex relationship between the Irish and service in the British Army is a recurrent theme in Irish history. In the post-famine era, Irish republicans frequently either specifically joined for, or later utilised, British Army military training for their own purposes. Individuals like William Harbinson, famously (if somewhat obscurely) James Connolly and more recently the likes of the Catholic Ex-Servicemen’s Association in the 1970s have illustrated how Irishmen did what Connolly summarised as “…learn all he can and put his training to the best advantage…“. The contribution of British military training to the capacity of Irish republicans to counter the physical control of Ireland by Britain is one obvious outworking of this relationship.

However, the traditional imperial practice of harvesting soldiers from the impoverished communities under it’s control, both at home and abroad, is indelibly rooted in Irish communities (both Catholic and Protestant) for whom military service and the risk of death were often taken as the last refuge from starvation and utter poverty. In some contemporary politics, what was a crushingly brutal experience for many is once again pressed into service as some sort of parable of lost imperial greatness captured by an obsession with glorifying the brutal slaughter of millions by the European royal families to no apparent purpose between 1914 and 1918.

Given the extent to which poetry is seen as the voice of the first world war, here are a few lines from a poem by an independent Orangeman from Belfast, shipyard worker Thomas Carnduff, from his poem about his own experiences entitled ‘Ypres, September 1917 (A Memory)’:

Light breezes, scented with North Sea spray,
Breathe murmurs of remorse,
And leafless shell-scarred branches sway
Above each mangled corpse.

 

Where, oh where, is our James Connolly: #Connolly150

One of the remarkable things about James Connolly is how his life provides an intersection with so many long-standing themes: immigration, poverty and disadvantage, Irish-British relations, the Irish in Scotland, class politics, imperialism, socialism and Irish republicanism.

Another critical area, in which so many of these issues, and others, converge is in service in the armies of the British empire. A range of motivations brought individuals into service. Patriots mingled with those compelled by a sense of duty or adventure, others by poverties: disadvantaged urban communities, impoverished rural communities, immigrants seeking financial or political affirmations, colonial subjects speculating on an exchange of years of their lives for some degree of pensionable future financial security. All of these journeys meet within Connolly’s life. Oddly enough, in one of the least known and most obscure episodes, his military service.

Back in July 2017, I had a look at what is known about his British Army service. Pretty much nothing of the details of his military career are clear. This is not out of keeping with our real knowledge of his early life. He fleetingly appears in some documentary records in Edinburgh such as his birth on 5th June 1868. He is listed as an apprentice baker in the 1881 census (again in Edinburgh) with his parents and older brother Thomas (a trainee print compositor). His eldest brother John had already left home with the British Army by this date. Thomas’ later life is completely obscure. The historical Connolly literally re-emerges in a letter to Lillie Reynolds on April 7th 1889 (they were later to marry). The commonly held belief is that Connolly’s letter to Lillie was written just after he deserted the British Army.

This appears to be supported by a throwaway reference in the April 7th letter to Lillie as ‘the girl he left behind him’. This paraphrases the refrain of ‘The Girl I Left Behind Me’, considered the parting song for eighteenth and nineteenth British Army regiments as they left for overseas service. This may be the closest thing to a direct reference by Connolly to his own British Army career in his own writings.

The Girl I Left Behind Me

Extract from Connolly’s letter to Lillie Reynolds from April 7th, 1889 (original in the National Library).

Consensus had it that James had followed his eldest brother John into the British Army and his biographer Desmond Greaves identified his regiment as the King’s Liverpool Regiment, which is to some extent supported by later biographers like Nevin.
The difficulty here is that Connolly is believed to have served under an assumed name so it is not simply a matter of finding a soldier named ‘James Connolly’ in the relevant regimental records. Despite the lack of documentary evidence, a reported anecdote told by Connolly suggested he was stationed in Haulbowline in December 1882 (indicating he had joined underage). Based on the date of his letter to Lillie, his departure from the British Army was believed to be in the period shortly before the letter was sent (i.e. just before the start of April 1889). This gives his period of service as the second half of 1882 through to (roughly) March 1889, a time period that matched the period in which the King’s Liverpool Regiment was stationed in Ireland (the basis of Greaves argument). Connolly’s service number, presuming he had joined roughly between his 14th birthday (although giving his age as 16) and December 1882 would be between 200 and 260 in the 1st Battalion of the King’s Liverpool Regiment.
Fortunately, his desertion in early 1889 gives us another fixed reference point to use to identify him. Deserters were listed in the Police Gazette with their name, regiment, service number, age, a brief description and information where they deserted. Since Connolly deserted in February or March 1889, he would feature (under his assumed) name, in one of those issues.

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Front page of Police Gazette, February 26th, 1889, showing format of deserter lists.

Over the course of February, March and April 1889 the following were reported in the Police Gazette as deserters or dismissed from the King’s Liverpool Regiment for misconduct (their service numbers are included in brackets):
Police Gazette, February 12th: John Keating (2151), Peter Murphy (2730), James Calligan (443), William Clare (2557), Patricks Collins (1468), Martin Connolly (254), Dean Walter (1474), Patrick Gorrie (1087) and William Henderson (1259).
Police Gazette, February 19th: William Miller (2672), George Omerod (2705).
Police Gazette, February 26th: Charles Burke (2715), James Sears (2697);
Police Gazette, March 12th: Alfred Clark (2762), John Doherty (2732), Thomas Noon (2768), John Wilson (no number).
Police Gazette, March 19th: Herbert Coughtrey (1518).
Police Gazette, March 26th: Ben Aspinall (2577), John Curtis (2636).
Police Gazette, April 9th: W.H. Wakeman (no number).
Police Gazette April 16th Tim Kelly (2588), Joseph Stedman (2680), Frederick Wilson (2579), William Purcell (no number).
Police Gazette, April 30th Thomas Burns (2666), Charles Evans (2592), Thomas Quinn (2627).

This includes only one candidate with a service number between 200 and 260, conveniently enough sharing the same surname: Martin Connolly (254). Martin Connolly is listed in the Police Gazette as having deserted from the Reserve of the King’s Liverpool Regiment at Warrington. His personal records indicate that he served in the 4th Battalion of the Regiment (it’s reserve battalion). The Police Gazette records his age as 30, height as 5 foot 6 ½ inches, hair brown in colour and eyes grey. His attestation forms, though, indicate his age as 20 when he signed up in 1885, his height as 5 foot 7, his hair colour as black and his eyes brown (perhaps highlighting how unreliable some of the Police Gazette and attestation form data can be). These latter details (even if not consistent) are at odds with information recorded about James Connolly. The RIC recorded Connolly’s height in Kenmare in 1898 as 5 foot 4 and his hair colour as black. Various people identified him as having light blue or grey eyes. All of these details seem to indicate that ‘Martin Connolly’ is not James Connolly.

A review of the attestation records for the other King’s Liverpool Regiment deserters, where available, invariably show they returned to the service after 1889, or otherwise did not fit with the rough outlines of Connolly’s life. This raises significant questions about Greaves identification of Connolly with the King’s Liverpool Regiment. The information on his military service used by Greaves is largely in the form of second- and third-hand anecdotes, even Connolly’s daughter Nora appears to be quoting Greaves when she mentions his desertion in 1889. The claims about his military service include that he enlisted under a false name, John Reid, and in the same regiment as his brother, John, purportedly the 2nd Battalion, Royal Scots. Anecdotes include the story about being on sentry duty in Haulbowline in December 1882 and also that he made reference to serving in India. There is no direct evidence to support either (as yet).

The earliest actual source referring to his military service is an anti-Larkin newspaper, The Toiler, published in 1913. It mentions Connolly in a couple of issues, claiming that he had joined the British militia twenty years or so ago, rumoured to be the Monaghan Militia and that he had deserted.

Given that the references in The Toiler are the earliest reference to Connolly’s military career, it is worth giving them some further consideration. The ‘Monaghan Militia’ was the 5th Battalion of the Royal Irish Fusiliers. While the reference is intentionally derogatory, it may be referencing Connolly’s reputed family connection to Monaghan (he did, incorrectly, list Monaghan as his place on birth in the 1901 and 1911 census). However, that family connection may have had some role in his route into the British Army. A plausible basis for The Toiler claim is that he may have used family connections in Monaghan to join the Royal Irish Fusiliers. A number of deserters from the regiment are indeed listed in the Police Gazette including John Donnolly (2312), William Freeman (3035), John Kelly (2969), John Walker (676), Thomas Dawson (3110), Fred Wm Malyon (2625), Francis Kelly (3131), Thomas Flanagan (3076), John McSourley (2905), Thomas Webb (no number), Loughlin Ward (2088), Robert Green (3041), Thomas Dougherty (3045), William McDonald (3087) and Robert Simpson (813). But again, none appear to provide a sufficient match to Connolly’s details to suggest that it might be the false name he adopted for his military service.

Aspects of the other anecdotal claims about Connolly can also be tested against the list of deserters to try and identify him. Firstly, there is the false name: John Reid. A John Reid, service number 2089, had deserted at Mullingar on 31st January 1889, while serving in the Royal Irish Rifles. A labourer claiming to be from Armagh, he roughly fits the description of Connolly, being reported as 21½ years of age, 5 foot 6 in height with brown hair and grey eyes. Reid, though, enlisted in 1887 and served well into the 1890s and so is clearly not Connolly. A review of other men enlisting under the name John Reid does not immediately identify a suitable candidate for Connolly.

The ‘John Reid’ pseudonym is possibly a garbled version of Connolly’s older brother’s military career. John Connolly was four years older than James and had enlisted, under age, in 1878 using the name James Reid. He had served in the Border Regiment according to his documentation when he enlisted in the Royal Scots in the first world war, although his medal and decorations are not entirely consistent with those awarded to the Border Regiment. Either way, confusing James and his brother John seems to be the origin of the ‘John Reid’ claim for Connolly and the association with the ‘Royal Scots’ regiment.

 

John C Borders

John Connolly’s re-enlistment form (as ‘James Reid’) showing his previous service with the Border Regiment.

 

 

John C medals etc

John Connolly’s medal and decorations.

 

 

John Connolly form

John Connolly’s discharge form (as ‘James Reid’) from February 1916 showing his correct address.

 

The information on those listed as deserting from either the Border Regiment can also be cross-referenced against Connolly’s details to look for possible candidates. The Border Regiment deserters were John Rushton (no number), J. McIntosh (2009), who was discharged for misconduct), Thomas Cook (1856, reserve) Joseph Howells (1827, reserve), Percy Seymour (2165, reserve), W. Anderson (1414), Cosgrove T. (726), D Lundy (489), Arthur Copping (2730), Charles Fry (2223), H Ashby Carwood (2672), John Coulthard (2213), Thomas Hall (2620), Robert Little (2721) and Robert McCole (no number). None of these could plausibly be identified with Connolly.

The last of the anecdotal claims linked Connolly to the 2nd Battalion, Royal Scots. A review of the Royal Scots deserter listed in the Police Gazette, identifies Peter Devine (2557), John Bartlett (2970), Frank Newton (2566), Albert Hartwell (3043), Charles F White (2917), John Monaghan (2286), AM Woolidge (1395), William G Hunt (3212), James McAuley (2741), Thomas Clegg (2905), Thomas Moody (3129) and James Scott (2713).

The only possible candidate is James Henry, who deserted the Royal Scots at Aldershot on 11th February 1889. Henry came from South Leith in Edinburgh and listed his occupation as ‘carter’. His physical description as 5 foot 4 in height, with dark brown hair and grey eyes, roughly matches Connolly as does his age in 1889 (20). Even the name (James Henry) is attractive as a false name. James Henry’s service number (2580), suggests he enlisted in the Royal Scots in 1887. Without further documentation, unless he had transferred from another regiment, it would seem unlikely that he had enlisted in 1882 as James Connolly is purported to have done. However, in the absence of further information to formally exclude him as a candidate, he appears to be the most plausible of the listed deserters to be Connolly.

Today, the 150th anniversary of Connolly’s birth, it seems that the exact details of his military service are still, and will continue to remain, elusive!

Winnie Carney at the GPO, via #Herstory

Last night, the image of Winifred Carney was one of those projected onto the GPO as part of #Herstory, to coincide with Nollaig na mBan (literary, ‘the women’s Christmas’, the traditional Irish name for the Christian feast of the Epiphany in Ireland).

You can check out more text and images via the Herstory social media and website.

Carney, born in Bangor but brought in Belfast, was a trade unionist, suffragist and republican activist. Living at Carlisle Circus, she was active in the textile unions, Gaelic League and nationalist organizations and was prominent in highlighting the dreadful conditions faced by workers in Belfast, particularly women and children.

She worked closely with James Connolly, particularly throughout the Easter Rising where she was the first woman into the GPO and last to leave. The other Belfast republicans active in Dublin during the Rising was mainly women (eg see Nora Connolly’s account here). Afterwards she stood for election for Sinn Féin and continued to be active in the likes of the TGWU and, later, the NILP. She married George McBride in 1928 (below, with Carney, image held by District Trades Union Council), who had been in the UVF and Orange Order but was by then a committed socialist.

Carney died in 1943, ages only 56, and is buried in Milltown.

James Connolly 150th anniversary

The 5th June 2018 will mark the 150th anniversary of James Connolly’s birth in Edinburgh of Monaghan parents. I’m sure the year will include various events and discussions of Connolly, his life and legacy.

One area that interests me and, I think, seems wholly under-explored, is Connolly’s time as a British soldier. Not just in how it must have contributed to Connolly’s own political and intellectual formation but also in how it provides an example of that tradition of service in Britain’s armed forces by Irish Catholics. Connolly’s military experience is very much suppressed in the post-1916 twentieth century hagiography and biographical treatments of his life (Greaves being the obvious pioneer of reintroducing his years as a soldier into the substance of the Connolly legend). That’s a thread I’m going to try and continue to pick up in 2018.

During this year, I’m hoping to start adding contributions from other people. The guiding principle will be that I’ll add anything relevant: memoirs, old historical news items, ephemera, songs/ballads etc. It doesn’t need to be academically written or of any particular length. The only requirement is that it adds something new, not well known or interesting. Easiest way to let me know you’ve something of interest is to message me via the Facebook page or by email (jjconeill at gmail.com works best).

In the meantime, best wishes for 2018 and thanks for continuing to read and comment on the blog and Facebook and here’s some Connolly reading from the blog to get your new year started.

https://treasonfelony.wordpress.com/2017/11/11/learn-all-he-can-and-put-his-training-to-the-best-advantage-irish-republicans-in-the-british-army/

https://treasonfelony.wordpress.com/2017/07/31/james-connollys-time-as-a-british-soldier-some-new-evidence/

https://treasonfelony.wordpress.com/2015/04/01/nora-connolly-obrien-on-her-father-belfast-and-1916/

https://treasonfelony.wordpress.com/2016/04/04/they-told-me-how-connolly-was-shot-in-the-chair/

Learn all he can and put his training to the best advantage: Irish republicans in the British Army

It is probably not coincidental that the passing of the very last of the generation who fought in the first world war has coincided with a rise in overt nationalism centred around displays of the poppy as a symbol of British military commemoration. With the second world war generation, too, now dwindling rapidly, an aggressively vocal lobby insistently equates both generation’s sacrifice, as individuals and units, with a celebration of British imperial policy and militarism. This is conducted at such a volume that it drowns out any nuanced discussion of the experience of serving in the British forces. This is maybe most acute for those, particularly in Ireland, whose relatives were more likely driven into the British Army by circumstances than any political conviction.
You can get a clear, and unapologetic, sense of what the poppy, as a symbol, is intended to commemorate from the British Legion. Under its pages on remembrance, it specifically stipulates that it includes the recent conflict in the north (one in which the British army was allowed to use violence with impunity). The Legion also pointedly includes…those who fought with them and alongside them”, which would obviously cover the local unionist militias, the RUC and UDR, which were both discredited and then disbanded. Arguably it also extends to the unionist paramilitary groups like the UDA and UVF who fought ‘alongside them’, given the British government’s continuing refusal to open up its archives on the extent to which it operated those groups as local counter-gangs.
There is peculiar lobby among the likes of Fine Gael and the Irish Labour party that try and promote the poppy. The kindest thing that can be said about it is that they appear to barely have a surface knowledge of what the British Legion actually tells us the poppy is meant to commemorate. Ironically, the leader of the Irish government probably wore a British Legion poppy in Leinster House the other day simply to provoke Sinn Féin members present (in the hope that he could use a backlash to retrospectively validate his embarrassing car crash comments about sexism in an interview the previous day).
What we are seeing there, really, is the long term impact on censorship in the south. After Section 31 of the broadcasting ban lapsed, media censorship, and the world view it had promoted, have more or less persisted in a voluntary form. No real attempt has been made in the south to either revisit events or explore other perspectives on the conflict in the north and, in reality, most people who formed their views, values and opinions under Section 31 have no sense of having been exposed to heavily censored media coverage. That pretty much extends to any genuine understanding of the typical Irish experience in the British military which many seem to completely blur with a broader anti-republicanism sensibility.
Ex-servicemen (and indeed some still enlisted in the British army) appear to have always been a component of republican organisations. IRB leader William Harbinson’s life is illustrative of how young men typically ended up in the British Army. Driven from his birthplace in Ballinderry to Liverpool at the height of the famine, he enlisted underage. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his army service was punctuated with bouts of ill-health. Yet, through the likes of Harbinson, the IRB organisation appears to have relied upon serving British soldiers for access to military capability and arms.
The year after Harbinson’s death, James Connolly was born – brought up in great poverty, he too enlisted underage in the British Army and was one of a number of those who participated in 1916 that had a military background. It is notable, now, how the input of ex-servicemen surely contributed to the overall tactical view of the IRB. It embraced using some form of conventional standing army to establish an Irish republic, either using serving soldiers (as in 1867) or the Irish volunteers and Citizen’s Army (as in 1916). After 1916, and the formation of an Irish Republican Army, ironically, the tactical remit instead shifted to guerrilla actions (even though it still had many members who were former British soldiers).
In Belfast in 1920-22, ex-servicemen were prominent in the ad hoc defence of districts that came under attack from unionists. Joseph Giles, a former soldier killed when the military opened fire in Bombay Street on 22nd July 1920 is noted as an IRA volunteer in Jim McDermot’s Northern Divisions. Other former soldiers, like Daniel Hughes and Freddy Craig, were killed when unionists attacked their home districts or, as in the case of Malachy Halfpenny, were abducted, tortured and killed by B Specials. In some districts, like Ballymacarret, many ex-servicemen were believed to have joined the IRA and provided the spine of the republican forces that defended the district from attack. Certainly, in most IRA units, former British soldiers provided the technical support to maintain weapons and train in their use. Even in the 1950s, the IRA was able to place members inside British Army barracks in preparation for arms raids. In the 1970s, again in the face of unionist violence, ex-servicemen (this time, formally) grouped themselves under the banner of the Catholic (later ‘Local’) Ex-Servicemen’s Association.
In areas of high socio-economic deprivation (across Ireland), the needs of the British for servicemen offered an opportunity for the paid work (and pension) and a trade that were often denied to them in their own districts. How far the economic necessity that drove them into the services was underscored by political support is difficult to disentangle.
One hundred years ago, Charles O’Neill, my great-grandfather, a veteran of both India and the Boer War, was serving on the Italian front. He also had a brother at sea with the British Navy. After the war he was still burnt out of Ballyhackamore and driven from his work by ‘loyalists’. Whether he was political at all, never mind supportive of British imperial policy, he was to be brutally schooled in the value placed on his military service. Yet economics also dictated that two of his sons (my granny’s brothers, Andy and Charlie) also fought in the British Army during the second world war (my granny also had one brother-in-law in the US Army and another as Adjutant-General of the IRA). Charles, Andy and Charlie’s experience was probably typical. Political or not, they chose not to serve in the likes of the RUC or UDR that the British Legion now commemorate as having fought alongside the British Army. I suspect the current flag-waving poppy celebrations of the British Legion would be completely alien to them.
The traditional inclusion of ex-servicemen within Irish republican organisations is often overlooked and has probably yet to be fully explored. Opening it up may provide some rich insights. While a British soldier in Dublin, James Connolly likely participated in war games that included defending Dublin city. Given that he was one of a number of former servicemen who took part in the Rising, was the often derided military plan for the Rising based on an insight into the British defensive strategy practised in war games in which the likes of Connolly took place?
Connolly may also have provided the most succinct rationalisation of the motivation behind a young Irish man joining the British Army “…let him make the best of it and learn all he can and put his training to the best advantage he can when he comes out. A well-trained soldier will always find his allotted place in the community.

William Harbinson: a New Lodge ‘Fenian’

September 11th 2017 marks the 150th anniversary of the death of William Harbinson in Crumlin Road prison. On the evening of his death, Harbinson was found dead in his cell and the coroners inquiry heard he had an unexplained head wound but did not establish if it occurred prior to his death. The Head Centre of the Irish Republican Brotherhood in Belfast, Harbinson lived in the cottages known as Pinkerton Row just above the junction of North Queen Street and the New Lodge Road (roughly where Pinkerton Walk is today).

Map of Belfast in 1860s showing North Queen Street, the Infantry Barracks (later Victoria Barracks) and the lower New Lodge Road. Pinkerton Row is unmarked appears to be the line of cottages just above ‘Trainfield’. The breaks in the houses on that side of the New Lodge Road roughly correspond to Bruslee Street, Carntall Street, Carnmoney Street and Pinkerton Street that all linked back to Artillery Street (which appears on the map as dotted lines). These streets were flattened in the 1960s and 1970s. The Half Bap and Little Italy districts extend from the bottom right of the map.

Harbinson was a Staff Sergeant in the Antrim Rifles and had access to the Infantry Barracks arsenal. He was one of a number of ‘Fenians’ among the serving garrison in the barracks. The IRB had consciously inserted soldiers in the British Empire’s army and used them to both cultivate further recruits and bring back a quantum of military know-how and material to the organisation. In many respects this was an expression of the complex relationship between the Empire and its Irish subjects.

Harbinson’s life is illustrative of how young men typically ended up in the British Army. Driven from his birthplace in Ballinderry to Liverpool at the height of the famine, he enlisted underage. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his army service was punctuated with bouts of ill-health. The year after Harbinsons death, James Connolly was born – brought in great poverty, he too enlisted underage in the British Army and was one of a number of those who participated in 1916 that had a military background. In Belfast in 1920-22, ex-servicemen were prominent in the ad hoc defence of districts that came under attack from unionists. Many of them became involved in the IRA. In the 1970s, again in the face of unionist violence, ex-servicemen (this time, formally) grouped themselves under the banner of the Catholic (later ‘Local’) Ex-Servicemen’s Association. So, in many respects, Harbinson reflects a tradition within republicanism that is often overlooked. James Connolly rationalised the motivation behind a young Irish man joining the British Army “…let him make the best of it and learn all he can and put his training to the best advantage he can when he comes out. A well-trained soldier will always find his allotted place in the community”.

Harbinson also reflects a largely unexplored aspect of republican tradition across north Belfast. In some respects, like Harbinson, this is connected to the presence of the Infantry Barracks and Irish soldiers serving there. But he is far from the only senior IRB figure to have lived in the north of the city. Frank Roney, Head of Centre in Belfast before Harbinson, was from Carrickhill. Robert Johnston served on the Supreme Council from the 1860s, FJ Biggar was co-opted onto the Supreme Council by the end of 1870s. Henry Dobbyn was also prominent in the IRB. That generation was slowly eased out and replaced by the likes of Denis McCullough (President of the IRB’s Supreme Council in 1916). All lived in the north of the city, on of around North Queen Street or the Antrim Road. Johnston was the father of Eithne Carbery, the pre-eminent poet of the nationalist revival of the late 19th century and editor of the Shan Van Vocht newspaper. Her brother, James and cousin James were also active in the IRB (the likes of Major John McBride were also connected to north Belfast through St Malachy’s College). Another Antrim Road resident, Winifred Carbery, was Connolly’s assistant throughout the Easter Rising.

So, on the 150th anniversary of his death, it is worth remembering how William Harbinson reflects many aspects of republican history in north Belfast (and further afield) that really should warrant further exploration in the future.