I have long been fascinated by the story of Michael Collins, the Irish leader and patriot, otherwise known as “The Big Fellah”, born 114 years ago near Clonakilty, in his beloved West Cork, and perhaps its most famous son.
His was a name that always seemed to be around, as I grew up within the Irish community in Birmingham. At one stage, I recall an old first edition of a book about him coming into the possession of my family and then disappearing, never to be seen again, after being loaned to a relative, whom in particular I cannot even rememberl now. I recall its powdery, fragmenting, pages interspersed with black and white “plates” (photographs to you and I) showing Michael Collins in full military regalia at various locations and in the company of others whom no doubt were representative of the Irish and British political and military establishments of the time.
An offer earlier this year from relatives to make use of their holiday cottage in the village of Leap (pronounced “Lep”) in West Cork was duly taken up by us. Upon arriving there and starting to explore the surrounding area, we soon realised that we were in “Michael Collins Country”. In fact, the area abounds with monuments, buildings, sites etc associated with the man and his memory. We spent some time taking these in, to learn more about the man known affectionately by some, and indeed by others with a lesser regard for him, as “The Big Fellah”.
To many, Michael Collins is regarded as a liberator, the father of the modern day Irish State, and “head and shoulders” above his one time compatriot Eamon DeValera. Others would see him as a “traitor” who failed to obtain Home Rule for the whole 32 counties of Ireland, securing instead that status for 26 counties only, in talks with the British government in London in 1921 to which he was delegated to participate by DeValera. Some would say that he was left to carry the can by DeValera for a “failure” which history might now tell us was, in the prevailing circumstances, and perhaps privately conceded by DeValera at the time, was inevitable. Interestingly, Michael Collins’ grave and its surroundings in Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin, are quite splendid, in contrast to Eamon DeValera’s less grand final resting place in another part of the same cemetery, which may tell us something.
Michael Collins was born in 1890, the youngest of eight children. His father was 75 years old when Michael first saw the light of day! Had his father not stirred himself at this advanced age, could the course of Irish history have been different? We will never know!
The Collins family lived at Woodfield a short distance to the west of Clonakilty. The family homestead has recently been restored as a State Monument and is open to the public. Here, the visitor can view a small part of the building in which Michael was born, this later being converted to farm use when a bigger residence was constructed on the same site. In the 1921 War of Independence the house was burned down and all that remains of this now is the outline of the walls and the floor, and a chimney stack which fell to the ground in the fire. Within the site is a fine bust of Michael Collins.
The young Michael attended a school in Clonakilty to engage in a training course pursuant to taking up a position with the British Post Office in London, to where he emigrated in 1906. The “boys only” school building near the local Catholic church is still extant, as is a, now closed, “girls only” school nearby which houses the town museum. This incorporates a room given over to military and other memorabilia, and historical information, associated with the time of Michael Collins and the Civil War, a bust and some framed pictures of him, and is worth a visit.
Whilst attending his course Michael lived at the house of his sister in nearby Emmet Square, now housing a solicitor’s practice and bearing a commemorative plaque to him. A fine memorial to Michael Collins was erected in August 2002, on the 80th anniversary of Michael’s assassination at Beal na Blath, near Crookstown, Co Cork, at a corner of Emmet Square and on his walking route from his sister’s house to school. It was unveiled by Liam Neeson who played the role of Michael Collins so ably and memorably in the film of the same name. Smaller limited editions models of this memorial can still be purchased locally.
At Sam’s Cross, near Woodfield, stands the house where Michael Collin’s mother was born, and currently undergoing restoration. Immediately adjacent to this, on the crossroads, is an impressive monument featuring Michael Collins’ face in profile. Just across the crossroads stands “Collins’ Public House” (yes, it was his “local”), otherwise known as “The Four Alls”, a charming white-painted hostelry housing pictures of Michael Collins and other memorabilia. A Visitor’s Book contains the signature of Liam Neeson, entered at the time he was “reconnoitring” the area for his role in the Michael Collins film. Interestingly, the book also contains the signature of Tom Cruise whom, it was suggested to me, may have been on a similar mission!
Leaving Clonakilty northwards, and following a route that is not particularly direct, one arrives at that “hallowed” spot, Beal na Blath, where Michael departed this life in August 1922, apparently caught in the crossfire of an ambush, so vividly depicted in the Michael Collins film, whilst in convoy on a military tour of West Cork. Seemedly, as we were told, and despite all the gunfire exchanged, there was only one casualty, Michael himself. The film might suggest that the ambush may have been “set up” and executed by certain powers that be, older pre-Civil War compatriots of Michael. Other opinion has it, however, that one of his own comrades on that fateful day delivered the despatching bullet. Eighty years on, we may never learn the real truth of this event.
At Beal na Blath stands another fine monument to Michael Collins, on a raised dais adjacent to the roadside spot where he died. At the very spot where he expired stands a small white stone. To actually stand here, to place a hand on the stone, dwelling upon the tragic, history altering, event which took place on this spot is poignant, and can certainly make for a shiver down the back and for the hair to stand on the back of one’s neck!
Those who have seen the film may have assumed that filming took place at the actual ambush site. This was not the case, in that this took place in Co Wicklow, along with the filming of many other scenes in the film, including the “pub” scene, the “Four Alls” being too small!
Returning in the direction of Clonakilty, diversion must be made to the Michael Collins Centre & Arigideen Heritage Park developed by local Collins “scholar”, Tim Crowley. The Michael Collins Centre explores the life of “The Big Fellah” from his childhood in West Cork, through the Irish War of Independence, and up to the time of his death at Beal na Blath. Located in a traditional setting of a cottage/theatre is a photograph/memorabilia exhibition and audio-visual presentation, ably illuminated and brought to life by Tim Crowley who, clearly, has a great knowledge of his chosen subject.
Close to the cottage is the Ambush Trail, a “reproduction” of a section of a 1920’s Irish country road (no tarmac roads in those days!), similar to many of the infamous West Cork ambush sites, with full size models of an Armoured Car”, a “Crossley Tender, and other features. The last day of Michael’s life is retraced along this trail, as part of the guided tour. A Michael Collins Festival takes place in August each year, and from the Centre “Michael Collins Tours” are organised taking in the main sites in West Cork associated with him, and highlighting local history on the way.
Taking the road back into Clonakilty and on to Skibbereen further west, there is located the Eldon Hotel. In the hotel a “theme” bar has been created, inspiration for this being found in its historical connection with Michael Collins. Here, we are told, Michael Collins spent many a night with “his lads”, “having a bit of fun, singing and telling stories”. Around the walls of the bar are extracts from love letters that Michael and his sweetheart Kitty Kiernan wrote to each other, which leave the reader in no doubt that, despite the face he was obliged to turn to the harsh world that was the Ireland of the times, he still retained within him a very romantic nature, and the time to indulge in the more gentler pursuits.
There ended our “trail” of “The Big Fellah”. Our desire to learn more of the man sparked off by the Michael Collins film, duly slaked by the experience of exploring places associated with him, and visiting the interpretative centre at Arigideen. For those interested in the story of Michael Collins I would recommend a visit to West Cork. More details can be obtained at www.michaelcollinscentre.com, www.eldon-hotel.com, and www.clonakilty.ie