Michael Mallin: 16Lives

16 Lives

by Brian Hughes

Michael Mallin was an Irish rebel who took an active role in the 1916 Easter Rising. Born in Dublin, Mallin was second in command of the Irish Citizen Army under James Connolly and commanded the garrison at St. Stephen's Green in Dublin, with Constance Markievicz as his second in command. Mallin had enlisted in the British army as a boy soldier/drummer boy in his early years and served for many years in India. His experience there radicalised him and manifested itself in his becoming a leading official in the silk weavers union upon his return to Ireland. Mallin surrendered Sunday, 30 April 1916 when ordered to do so by Connolly. At his court-martial he attempted to downplay his involvement: this was understandable as he was a young father of four children and his wife was pregnant with a fifth. Mallin projected himself as a mere tradesman and band leader who had by chance become involved in the Irish Citizen Army and the Rising. He sought to exculpate himself from blame by suggesting that he was a mere dupe, obeying orders and ignorant of Connolly's plans for insurrection. He claimed that Countess Markievicz was in command, and not second in command to him, and that she had commanded him to take charge of the men on the Monday. However he was convicted and executed by firing squad. In his last letter to his wife, Mallin stated that ""I find no fault with the soldiers or the police"" and admonished her ""to pray for all the souls who fell in this fight, Irish and English.""

Genres: History, Irish Literature, Biography

283 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 28, 2012

About the author

There is more than one author with this name in the database. Not all books on this profile necessarily belong to the same person.

Born in Dublin, Brian Hughes studied in NUI Maynooth and Trinity College Dublin

Reviews

[Bill Kerwin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Michael Mallin is the 1916 martyr who gets no respect.

He was second in command of the Citizen’s Army, but when people think of the command structure all anybody thinks of is James Connolly. He led the rebel forces in St. Stephen’s Green, but most think Constance Markiewicz was in charge on the Green (yet they still blame Mallin for all the strategic errors). When people think of the brave socialists of 1916, they remember Connolly and the Red Countess, but forget him, the indefatigable organizer of Dublin’s silk weaver’s union. And when they think of the true military men of the Rising, they think of Connolly who served with the Brits in Ireland and McBride who fought against them in the Transval, but forget Mallin, who was radicalized against British oppression when he fought with Her Majesty’s forces in India. Even his trial and final hours, unlike most of his fellow martyrs', are little remarked upon and less remembered.

Much of this was inevitable. Connolly the union leader was an articulate writer and propagandist, and Markiewicz was a wealthy landowner turned rebel with a waving plume atop her rakish hat and a sharpshooter’s rifle in her hands. No wonder the poor workingman and father of five received little attention compared to such revolutionary stars. And it must be admitted that his decisions on the Green, particularly to dig trenches and man its open spaces instead of occupying the “high ground” of the hotels nearby, was unfortunate, but then Mallin’s force was one-fifth the strength of what he expected, and he was making do with what he had. You can see, however, why popular memory declines to reckon him with the military men.

Popular memory may also be excused for passing lightly over Mallin’s final hours. Unlike most of the rebels, he had no intentions of being a martyr. (Mallin’s plan was to escape and fight a rearguard action in the hills, but when Pearse ordered a general surrender, he—ever the good soldier—complied.) At his trial, thinking primarily of his wife and children, he tried to minimize his authority and involvement in the rebellion but was condemned to death anyway. His last words—a pathetic, remorseful letter to a wife he feels he has unwillingly abandoned—is very moving, but too fearful and guilt-ridden to satisfy the customary patriotic sentiments.

I believe the best way for us to remember Michael Mallin is as a conscientious average man who tried to stay true both to Irish independence and to the welfare of his family of seven. As the author of this book Brian Hughes remarks, “Here is the portrait of a man who had two priorities in life, and for whom one tragically cost him the other.”

Speaking of Hughes the biographer: this is a disciplined and focused work, particularly valuable in his treatment of Mallin’s radicalization in British India, his achievements with the silk weaver’s union, and in Hughes' vigorous—though measured—defense of Mallin the soldier, commander and strategist. I learned many things from this book, and it was a pleasure to read.

[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

An seachtú leabhar den sraith '16 Lives' a léigh mé go dtí seo.

Bhí Michael Mallin (Micheál Ó Meallain) duine des na ceannairí nár bhfuair a dhóthain aitheantais tar éis na imeachtaí 1916. Cabhraíonn an leabhar seo an éagóir seo a chur ina ceart.

Mholfainn daoibh an leabhar seo, agus na leabhair eile den sraith iontach seo, a léamh.

[David Eaton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good, in depth insight into Michael Mallin and his objectives for a free Ireland

Research and knowledge of subject is first class.I would love to be able to produce work of this standard.
I would recommend anyone studying Irish history of this period or like myself just wanting to understand what went on to make Ireland free to read all "16 lives" books.