Sunday, March 18, 2012

The Deal That Made Modern Ireland


In 1166 a meeting took place between two very dissimilar kings in Anjou France. One was petty lord who had just fled in terror from his homeland; the other was at the height of his power, ruling over an empire which stretched from the Pyrenees Mountains in the south to Anjou in the east and England in the north. However, despite the clear difference between them, what these men decided at their meeting would affect Ireland for the next 800 years and ultimately create the modern state.

Dermot MacMurrough was born around 1110 in Leinster in the southeast corner of Ireland where his father, Donnchad, was king. Ireland at this time was divided into several kingdoms, all battling for control. MacMurrough learned a pointed lesson about the brutal times when he was only five years old and his father was killed in battle, then buried with a dead dog, which was considered a serious insult.

The young boy was shaped by a cruel childhood into a man with his own brand of cruelty.  In 1126, his older brother died unexpectedly and MacMurrough became the new king of Leinster. Soon afterward MacMurrough began silencing any option to his rule in an attempt to seize other territories. In one act in 1141, he had 17 people blinded and saw to it that they could never have children again. With a growing reputation for unnecessary violence, MacMurrough invariably began to make a large number of enemies. One was another Irish king named Tiernan O'Ruark, who went to war with MacMurrough and defeated him in 1166. If events had stopped here, MacMurrough and O’Ruark would have been yet another pair of feuding kings in the distant past. However, MacMurrough’s next decision would eventually shift the entire political dynamic of Ireland and lead to eight centuries of conflict with neighboring Britain.

Unable to defeat O’Ruark on battlefield, MacMurrough next tried the bedroom, seducing O’Ruark’s wife, or possibly kidnapping her, and fleeing to Leinster. MacMurrough knew that what he had done was so far outside the accepted norms of the day that it would be a death sentence if he was caught. When word reached the other Irish kings, they united against him and marched toward his capital. When they arrived, MacMurrough was nowhere to be found.

In a desperate bid to save his kingdom, MacMurrough had boarded a ship to Britain, which at the time was under the control of Normans who had ruled since their successful invasion by William the Conquer a century before. MacMurrough then sailed France and met with the Norman king Henry II.  The two made an odd pair, to say the least – Henry, the regal and fiery-tempered great grandson of William, controlled a full half of France as well as half of England and was looking to expand his power. MacMurrough, by contrast, was graceless and unsophisticated and held little power.

Still, MacMurrough made his request to Henry. If he would give MacMurrough an army and help him reclaim his throne in Ireland, MacMurrough would recognize Henry as his ruler. Henry agreed; in one stroke, he would enlarge his empire and could claim he was saving Christendom in Ireland from wild barbarians – he had, in fact, been thinking about invading Ireland for a decade. In preparation, he had secured a written blessing from Pope Adrian IV, who was worried the island was becoming too independent of the Catholic Church. Henry had promised the Church he would send them .83 cents for each Christian family in Ireland.

After Henry and MacMurrough struck their bargain, Norman lords approved a new invasion plan and MacMurrough selected Richard de Clare, known as “Strongbow,” to lead the army and promised him his own daughter in return.

Three years later, in 1169, the powerful Norman army landed in Leinster and many Irish nobles rallied to fight. Lacking armor, the Irish forces charged into battle naked and were quickly hacked down. Strongbow’s army proved unstoppable, storming the town of Waterford, then taking Dublin. MacMurrough was formally returned to his throne but died soon afterward, and Strongbow, now married to MacMurrough’s daughter, became the king of Leinster in 1170.

Back in Anjou, Henry II was restless. He had never liked Strongbow and now feared that he would try to establish his own kingdom. To prevent this, Henry took the incredible step of forming a new army to invade Ireland a second time. Strongbow, meanwhile, was struggling to put down the remaining Irish nobles, who had driven him into the city of Dublin. Strongbow was only saved by a daring attack on the Irish forces which drove them back, and he agreed to surrender his claims to Ireland to King Henry, who landed there in 1171 and gained the backing of the Irish nobles and clergy.

In the coming years, Norman law was firmly established and left an indelible mark on the land that few realize today. Professor Sean Duffy said in an interview later:

“If you look around Ireland today, the most characteristically Irish traits are English. Our Parliamentary system was brought to Ireland by the Anglo-Normans, the system of law that we have is the English Common Law System and of course the language that has produced most of the great writers of Ireland through [James] Joyce and [William] Yeats is the English language.” He continued “When we look around the countryside of Ireland we think of fields and hedges, almost none existented before the 12th century. Your classical image of rural Ireland is actually a product of the arrival of the English in the 12th century.” 

Over time, British rulers found they could only completely hold the northern counties around Belfast and Dublin. This area became known as “the pale” and later, Northern Ireland. MacMurrough has gone down in history as the man who sold out Ireland; but recent research has suggested it is absurd to assume that the English would not otherwise have invaded the divided state in a time when territorial acquisition was the norm. With the influence of Henry II, England actually helped create modern Ireland.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Prohibition and the city of Seattle


Today whenever someone mentions Prohibition most people will probably think of cities like New York where thousands of illegal bars called “speakeasies” opened seemingly overnight and where Congressman Fiorello La Guardia openly flaunted the law by having a beer in public. Or, people will think of Chicago where criminal organizations like the Southside Gang lead by Al Capone battled for control of the liquor supplies leaving hundreds dead. But probably no one will think of the serene city of Seattle Washington. Far removed from the powerful east coast and Midwest cities and in one of the last states to be officially settled, Seattle has more often than not been both figuratively and literately on the far periphery of the rest of the country. Yet, the effects of Prohibition were just as dramatic here as anywhere else. It disgraced two mayors and lead to the rise of a third. Helped cause a gangland shootout and made two ordinary men local legends. This is that story.

Washington had considered the idea of prohibition since the 1850s and by the 1880s the Territorial Legislature had passed a local option law. This meant that city councils could decide for themselves whether or not to grant licensees to sell liquor. However, most towns were still not officially part of the territory, making the real decision makers county commissioners.  Later, this was changed to give power to the residents of the town. As the years went by, organizations like the Woman's Christian Temperance Union and the Anti-Saloon League gained prominence both locally and nationally and began pushing for far less compromising laws. Intense campaigning by these groups lead to the passage of Initiative Measure Number Three in 1914, the new law flatly outlawed the making and selling of alcohol within the state. But, the law allowed those with permits to import beer on a limited basis and also allowed it to be sold for medical purposes. The law went into full effect in 1916. Interesting that same year, Washington voters defeated two initiative measures that would have weakened the law. Seattle’s Mayor Hiram Gill quickly moved to make a show of good enforcement, leading several busts in the city. However, Gill’s zealousness which often left extensive property damage angered even those who favored the law.

 Gill had already been under a dark cloud when he entered the mayor’s office. He had been a force on the Seattle City Council in the early 1900s and had used his political connections to get elected mayor in 1910. Soon after it became apparent that the new police chief that Gill had appointed was openly taking protection money from prostitutes and criminals, while Gill himself hindered any effort to remove him. Finally voters had had enough. Newly enfranchised women voters and newspaper editors led a successful effort to recall the mayor in 1911 and Gill left office. In 1914, Gill ran mayor again, saying that he had learned from his mistakes and would be an enemy of vice in the city. In an election that shocked the nation Gill had won.

Despite Gill’s stated good intentions and the raids, there were soon new charges of corruption. His mishandling of several labor strikes did nothing to help his image. News spread that police and Gill were taking bribes from bootleggers. Seattle was as it turned out more crime ridden than ever. By 1917, the U.S. Army forbid its solders from even entering the city. The following year Gill lost badly in his reelection bid and left office for the last time. He would be dead a year later.

In January 1920, the 18th Amendment which outlawed nearly every alcoholic substance in the U.S. became law, overriding the flexibility of the original state measure. Two gangs immediately looked to establish themselves as the dominate liquor suppliers in the city one was led by Jack Marquett   a former Seattle Police Officer, while the other was headed by two Oklahoma brothers Fred and Logan Billingsley. The two organizations fought with each other until a huge gun battle lead to all three going to jail. The time was ripe for a new man to seize the liquor trade.

Into this vacuum stepped another police officer named Roy Olmstead. Considered a rising star in the department, he had become the youngest Lieutenant on the force and was thought of the one of the best investigators in the city and the man to see for tough questions. He had also been friends with city leaders like Gill and had worked on combatting bootleggers since 1916, with his sharp mind Olmstead had quickly learned the ins and outs of the criminal underworld and came to believe he could do better.

Unlike Marquett and the Billingsley brothers he thought more could be done with a smart bribe than with a gun. He once said “I would rather lose a whole damned shipment than lose a life” and neither he nor his men carried them. At first, everything went smoothly and Olmstead’s activities stayed below the notice of his fellow officers. Then, in the early morning hours of March 22, 1920, as Olmstead and his men pulled into Brown’s Bay, prohibition agents surprised them and began shooting. Men ran in all directions and Olmstead jumped into his car and raced through a roadblock escaping down the road. As he passed one of the agents, they recognized him immediately and he was arrested within hours. Olmstead was quickly fired from the police force, but rather than regret the lost career he threw himself at his new one.

As Olmstead began organizing a new bootlegging empire, Johnny Schnarr found himself merely trying to deliver his first shipment. 25 year old Schnarr was not a criminal, but a logger and fisherman by trade. Soon after Prohibition went into effect, he had been asked to take a boat laden with liquor from Victoria B.C. to San Francisco. Everything went well, until Schnarr’s partner became confused and accidentally turned the boat back to Canada. Schnarr had corrected course, but as they were off the Oregon coast, the boat had run aground twice. The second time it could not be dislodged and eventually sank. Schnarr and is partner managed to swim to shore and even saved half their shipment, but they had failed to deliver it. Four months later, Schnarr with a new boat and a new partner, had better luck with his next shipment and soon taking 70 then 110 cases a shipment and was making a $1,000 a month. His boats, with specially designed engines could easily out run the Coast Guard and could hide out in the Sound as Daryl McClary would later write "Enforcement of prohibition in the Pacific Northwest was virtually impossible. There was too much border, too much water, and too many islands and remote locations to patrol effectively" Though, one night Schnarr decided to dock in Port Angeles and soon found out that he was next to the very Coast Guard ship that had been chasing him for months. Schnarr left before dawn.

By 1924, Roy Olmstead had become king of the bootleggers in Seattle and was making over $200,000 a month. Soon after his dismissal from the police force, he had gone into businesses with eleven other men. Olmstead had also hired other men who were bookkeepers, dispatchers and organizers. He also brought in many of his old police force buddies. Eventually, he became one of the largest employers in the city.  With everyone in place he had bought several boats and began sending them to Vancouver B.C where they would be loaded with liquor and to avoid the export fee they would say they were headed to Mexico. Within days the boats would be unloaded on D’Arcy Island in Puget Sound, where they were watched by the overseer of a leopard colony and then taken into various points in Washington. Olmstead demanded only the best alcohol from suppliers and even sold it cheaper than anyone else. All of this, and his smiling easy going manner had made him personal friends of Edwin “Doc” Brown the Mayor of Seattle and the Boeing brothers who supported him. Olmstead became so confident in his business that his men began unloading their boats in broad daylight on Washington wharfs and moving the beer into trucks marked “fish” or “milk”. 

Finally, Prohibition agents in the state made arresting Olmstead their top priority. Very soon Olmstead had fewer reasons to smile and more reasons to be tense. On June 25, 1924 two men walked into the Henry Building in downtown Seattle where Olmstead had his office. There, they quietly placed several electronic bugs. At the time Mayor Brown was out of town, leaving Bertha Landes the head of the Seattle City Council in charge. Landes was a stanch proponent of Prohibition and quickly approved the placement of the bugs. It should be noted here; that the men while having her permission did not have any other form of legal approval and wiretapping was illegal in Washington State.

The wiretaps lead to several raids including at Olmstead’s farm where thousands of bottles were seized. Under pressure from Federal agents Canadian costume agents took one of his boats holding nearly 800 cases of liquor. Other Federal agents burst into his attorney’s office and took away evidence. Finally on November 17, it all came crashing down. Sixteen Federal agents arrived at Olmstead’s home and arrested him. One agent then calmly sat down at a desk and posing as Olmstead called his associates and asked them to bring booze to the house. Eight other men were taken into custody including the King County Sheriff. In all, ninety people were charged. Olmstead paid out is bond and went back to work, but he was arrested again on Thanksgiving.

In the trial that followed in 1925, Federal agents, some police and other informants all fingered Olmstead as the undisputed king of the liquor trade in Seattle. One funny moment came when Olmstead said the assistant attorney prosecuting him had been one of his best costumers. The whole case hinged on the wiretaps. But here there were major problems, on top of being illegal in first place, no exact transcript or recording existed, only notes. Later one of the transcribers said they had been given names to put with written quotes. Though part of this evidence was thrown out, the majority of it was allowed to stand. Olmstead was convicted, and sentenced to four years on McNeil Island, which he began serving in 1927. He continued to appeal his case on the stance that the main evidence against him had been illegal. In 1928, the Supreme Court agreed to hear the case and in a 5-4 decision upheld the conviction

As Olmstead fought his conviction and broke rocks at McNeil, Johnny Schnarr continued running liquor through the Puget Sound. By 1927 he had become one of the best bootleggers in the state. Schnarr had managed to avoid capture though, one time Prohibition agents surprised his men as they unloaded liquor on a beach. A running gunfight ensued and one agent was wounded, the rest of the men escaped. Another time when Scharr was off Discovery Bay, he spotted a Coast Guard boat that was only a hundred yards out and closing fast. Bullets began hitting the ship’s haul and in desperation, he turned the boat around and raced past the Coast Guard ship. The massive spray that resulted left both decks a slippery mess, but also hit the gunman on Coast Guard ship preventing accurate fire. Five other boats tried to catch Schnarr that night, but he outran them all. As Canada became stricter about not allowing liquor to come from Canadian ports, Schnarr found himself having to meet ships further out to sea, making it more expensive to do a proper delivery. On top of this, other bootleggers were operating in the Puget Sound and were flooding the market. This served to make alcohol cheaper to buy. All of it was beginning to cut into Schnarr’s bottom line.

While the times were changing for Schnarr, the city of Seattle was going through political and social changes of its own. In 1926, Bertha Landes who had brought down Olmstead, ran for mayor and defeated the corrupt Doc Brown, by 6,000 votes becoming the first woman mayor of any large city.  She then went after bootleggers with a vengeance and worked to clean up the city government. By most accounts Landes succeeded in her efforts to make a better city and had high approval rating going into her reelection in 1928. Shockingly however, she lost to Frank Edwards. Edwards was later recalled in 1931, after he fired a popular city worker. By now, there was also a growing sense in Washington and the rest of country that prohibition just wasn’t working. Liquor was coming in from the Puget Sound and Eastern Washington. People were still getting drunk and crime was up. This was mirrored elsewhere. Boats now sat in international waters off the coast of Florida and unloaded booze in full view. Other boats were in the in the Great Lakes and in winter time the liquor could be moved over the frozen water. In New York and Chicago brutal gang wars had broken out for control of supply routes leaving hundreds dead.

In January 1932 the Washington Legislature introduced Initiative Measure No. 61, which would repeal Prohibition statewide. It passed overwhelming in November. Congress was not far behind, by December of 1933 Prohibition was repealed with approval of the 21st Amendment. Roy Olmstead and Johnny Schnarr were among those that now enjoyed a legal drink but were out of a job. Olmstead had been released from prison but continued to fight his conviction. In 1935, he was pardoned by President Franklin Roosevelt. Olmstead became a Christian Scientist and lived quietly until his death in 1966. The following year the Supreme Court overturned its original ruling that upheld the wiretaps. Schnarr returned to logging, but soon became of full time fisherman until his retirement in 1966.  

While the city of Seattle had not been as violent as Chicago or as openly corrupt as New York, Prohibition had affected it just as much. It had ended political careers and propelled others and made everyday men into local heroes. In the end it showed that even in the most serene of cities, long term enforcement could not keep people from a drink.