as set aflame again as in Easter Week, it is certain that the heads of the provisional Government, and all responsible leaders of the Free State, were dismayed at what bad been done—appalled by the horror of the fratricide. Though he had had no part in the circumstances which issued in the war (for his influence had been destroyed for the time by the breaking of the pact), Mr. de Valera cast in his lot with the men who were defending the Republic from violent subversion. He went through the fires of O’Connell Street with Cathal Brugha, who died in a last gallant protest, shot down by an Irish soldier after escaping the English in 1916, 1919, 1920 and 1921. As the news of Brugha’s death went forth well might all loyal Irishmen grieve, and others tremble. It was not Republicans alone who hoped, even while the Four Courts were smoking, for a battle-field armistice. With passionate zeal certain holy clergy and earnest laymen tried to bring the rival chiefs together and to avert the conflict. If only the Free State party had consented then and there to proclaim that the Republic was surrendered and the Dominion established under Lloyd George’s coercion—if only it had made known that the Treaty was carried into force under duress and under protest—that other protest in arms could, we are assured, be brought to an end. Even now the time has not come to reveal what evil influence prevented such a compromise. The Republican army was summoned to surrender to a Dominion Government; and it would not do so, and the war went on.
The sorrowful story need not be told at greater length. With most of the Republican deputies in captivity or on the run, the Free State Parliament came into being and the Second Dáil was not summoned to complete the transfer of authority which it alone could make if the Free State was to be legitimised. Thus, the Free State and its legislature were set up without continuity from the Republic, and in the clouds of an armed coup d’etat. This invalidated the new order in the eyes of all those who were loyal to the Declaration of Independence. Since a Government now was now erected without transition from the old, those who abode by the Second Dáil affirmed once more that it was the legitimate authority, and Mr. de Valera was regarded as head of the Republic once again. In the early months of 1923, it was evident that the Volunteers could not prevail, in a heart broken country, against their powerful opponents, so the Cease Fire order was given, over the signatures of Mr. de Valera and Mr. Frank Aiken, Chief of Staff.
VII.—ENTER FIANNA FAIL
At this stage, the cause of the nation was at its lowest. If ever Irishmen to had come to despair it was now; for Ireland had been forced to accept a Dominion, the land was partitioned, blood had flowed and bitterness and disillusionment were everywhere. Brugha had fallen, and after him Harry Boland. The Free State had executed Childers, and Liam Lynch had been slain. The two principals of the Free State were dead, too.
There were many who refused to despair, and one who saw his way still. In 1925, Sinn Féin considered Eamon de Valera’s proposal that the party should enter the Free State legislature, if only the test oath were removed and should recognise the Free State as fait accompli. This did not commend itself to those who were unwilling to recognise the fact that the fabric of the Republic was gone, and that Republicans must begin again from the bottom to rebuild it. Accordingly, Mr. de Valera formed a new Republican Party, Fianna Fail, which gained further seats at the first election in 1927. Observe that the party was Abstentionist at this stage. It refused the test oath and its agitation was so vigorous as to embarrass those who maintained the oath. The nation wanted all its patriots in the legislature, and was coming to resent the barring of them out. Suddenly Kevin O’Higgins was assassinated. Nobody knows what criminal or insane group did the deed. The country was convulsed by something like panic, and the most violent passions of the civil war boiled up; God knows w