Greystones During the War of Independence: The Railway Stoppage of 26-28 June 1920 by Rosemary Raughter
Shortly after ten o’clock on the morning of Saturday, 26 June 1920, the early train from Wexford steamed into Greystones station. As alighting passengers made their way to the exit, those now boarding the train chose their seats and settled themselves comfortably for the onward journey to Bray, or on to Kingstown (Dun Laoghaire) or to Dublin. Suddenly the tranquility of a seaside summer morning was broken by the sound of an engine approaching at speed. As that evening’s paper recorded:
As the train entered the station a military motor lorry came racing along the road, and the soldiers quickly passed the barrier and entered a compartment just as the train was about to start.
The men in question were a sergeant and six armed soldiers of the Cheshire Regiment, currently stationed at nearby Kilpeddar Camp. Their arrival presented the workers on site with a dilemma, and put Greystones for a short time at the forefront of a highly-politicised dispute which threatened to bring the Irish railway system to a halt and seriously embarrassed a government already under siege.
Threat of violence in the air
Although Greystones had largely been spared the worst effects of the unrest currently prevailing in the country at large, nobody present could have been unaware of the threat of violence in the air. With the IRA effectively in control of many areas, Sinn Fein making major gains in national and local elections, and the arrival earlier in 1920 of the Black and Tans, tensions were high, with daily newspaper reports of murder, ambush, reprisal, arson and industrial unrest. The most recent instance of the latter was the railwaymen’s embargo, begun in May 1920, on the carriage of ‘warlike stores’, defined as ‘materials designed for the destruction of life and property’, as well as armed troops or police. With no help forthcoming from the British trade unions and a tepid public response to an appeal for funds, the British administration was content to accept the assurances of the railway companies that they would have little difficulty in breaking the strike, if necessary ‘by complete replacement of the workforce’, and railwaymen refusing to work trains faced immediate suspension or dismissal. The army authorities, in the interim, chose to adopt what was disparagingly described as a ‘dog in the manger attitude’ – that is, military and police parties refused to move from trains when challenged, leading to disruption of the schedule and eventual stoppage of all train movements on the lines affected.
Late arrival
The late arrival of the military party at Greystones may have been an attempt to evade the notice of the railway workers on duty, but if so, it was unsuccessful. As soon as the soldiers boarded the train, the guard, James Whelan, and the driver, Laurence Finnegan, confronted them. Ascertaining that the men were indeed armed, Whelan asked them to leave, and directed the driver and the fireman, Patrick Furlong, not to proceed until they did so.
By now, the other passengers had become aware of the situation and ‘general perturbation’ reigned, with some expressing ‘warm approval of the railwaymen’s action’, while others were heard protesting about the delay and inconvenience involved. With the driver back in his cab, a rumour spread that the coach occupied by the soldiers was to be unhooked and left behind, while the engine and the other coaches proceeded on their way. At this, those in the coaches at the back flocked to the forward part of the train. On their heels came the soldiers, determined not to be left behind, but the checker, a Mr R Hammond, blocked them from entering the first and second-class compartments. The driver now put an end to all speculation by detaching his engine and proceeding with it to Bray, leaving the carriages, including that in which the soldiers were ensconced, standing at Greystones station. The civilian passengers – about one hundred of them – were left with no option but to find alternative transport to their various destinations, and while local residents returned home, those travelling further made their way by various means to Bray, from where the line to Dublin remained open.
Food from Kilpeddar Camp
While the day may have been a profitable one for the drivers of taxis and horse vehicles, for which there was now an unprecedented demand, the blocking of the railway left most inhabitants of Greystones ‘very severely incommoded’. Guests at the Grand Hotel were among the fortunate few unaffected by the lack of a rail service, since they were able to call upon one of the several ‘cars’ maintained for their convenience. The soldiers, for their part, sat tight. During the day, food was sent over to them from Kilpeddar Camp, and at night they settled down to sleep in the compartment, stating their intention to remain there until ordered to leave by their commanding officer.
Test case
Meanwhile, the guard, driver and fireman of the train were summoned to an interview in Bray with officials of the Dublin and South-Eastern railway line. Having refused to sign a guarantee that they would work all traffic, they were summarily dismissed, but refused to accept payment of the wages which they were due, on the grounds, as the Irish Times reported, that they ‘profess to regard the incident as constituting a test case, and anticipate further developments’.
By nightfall on Saturday the effects of the stoppage on the railway line were escalating. The train which left Wexford at ten o’clock was held at Newcastle until late in the evening, and then passed through Greystones without stopping, avoiding the blockage by being switched to the down (southbound) line. The afternoon train from Wexford remained overnight at Wicklow, and ran empty to Dublin on Sunday, the mail and milk which it carried having been transferred to a goods train for distribution to stations further along the line. For the passengers, however, there was no such comfort. While some sought another form of transport to reach their destination, others looked for overnight accommodation in Wicklow, while several spent the night on the train.
Working week
The fact that the blockage occurred over the weekend probably did something to minimise the inconvenience caused to the general public, but with the beginning of the working week, and the expected influx of summer visitors, pressure to find a solution must have mounted. The end of the impasse seems to have come quite suddenly on Monday afternoon, when the soldiers, presumably in response to orders from their commanding officer, vacated the carriage and returned to camp. The train was immediately taken away, and normal service resumed, with the afternoon train from Wexford arriving on time at Greystones and continuing on schedule to Bray, Kingstown and Dublin.
Similar incidents
The stoppage in Greystones was only one among a large number of similar incidents during the second half of 1920. The railway companies’ initial optimism about an early end to the strike proved misplaced, and the workers held firm despite widespread dismissals. They were effectively supported by the IRA, which on the one hand provided relief transport by commandeering vehicles, and on the other operated a policy of intimidation against workers disinclined to observe the embargo. By August, over one thousand railwaymen were out of work, and large numbers of trains were immobilized, with some areas of the country more severely affected than others: the level of action in the south-west, for example, was particularly high. The crisis dragged on into winter, with stoppages peaking in late November. By now, however, concern was rising, both inside and outside the labour movement, about the growing incidence of unemployment and the economic consequences of a total shutdown of the railways. One railwaymen’s leader warned of a potential 15,000 dismissals, and Tom Johnson, ILP/TUC secretary, while making a strong moral case for the strike, forecast that continuing the campaign risked ‘throwing back the social life of Ireland by a hundred years’. Finally, on 21 December, the railwaymen capitulated, voting unanimously for an unconditional return to work.
Serious impact on business
No official statement was ever issued about the reasons for the precipitate ending of the dispute at Greystones, the national newspapers simply reporting the rumour ‘that the authorities were approached by local residents in the interest of Greystones’. A major factor in Greystones’s development over the previous half century, of course, had been its excellent railway service. Any prolonged closure of the line would have had a serious impact on the business and professional men, the civil servants and other workers who daily commuted to Dublin, on householders deprived of deliveries of mail, milk and other necessities, and on the hoteliers, lodging-house keepers and other traders whose livelihoods depended on the summer tourist season, now fast approaching. Even over the two days of the stoppage, as the Wicklow People gleefully reported, ‘some hundreds of wealthy Greystones residents, warm supporters of the Union, were put to considerable inconvenience and expense by having to hire motors.’ With such considerations in mind, it seems that influential figures in ‘this centre of loyalty’, as one jaundiced observer described Greystones, made use of existing social links with the British administration in order to produce a settlement. As the unsympathetic Wicklow People put it:
Seeing that the military … were showing every sign of preparation for a prolonged siege and that there was a likelihood that the select, residential town would be isolated completely … hurried visits were paid to Dublin Castle by a few of the prominent residents with appeals urging the Castle authorities to withdraw the soldiers from the train, and allow the resumption of … service.
‘If this is the way the Castle treats us’, as one outraged loyalist was heard to declare, ‘then I’m with the Sinn Feiners.’ While his reaction was certainly an extreme one, the military’s decision to select Greystones as the site of this trial of strength proved both ill-advised and counter-productive, with the ultimate outcome providing for the withdrawal of the troops, and an apparent victory, in this particular skirmish, for the combined forces of labour and republicanism.
SOURCES:
Dublin Evening Telegraph, 26 June 1920.
Sunday Post, 27 June 1920.
Irish Times, 28 and 29 June 1920.
Wicklow People, 3 July 1920.
Charles Townshend, ‘The Irish railway strike of 1920: industrial action and civil resistance in the struggle for independence’, Irish Historical Studies, vol 22, 83 (March 1979), pp 265-282.
Charles Townshend, The Republic: the fight for Irish independence (2013), pp 144-148.
An earlier version of this article appeared in Greystones: its buildings and history, vol 2 (2012), pp 47-49.
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