With many thanks to Ballyroughan, without whose invaluable help this article could not have been written
Part 1: Richard John Revell, G Man

Photos of Richard John Revell shortly after he joined the DMP
Saturday morning 8 May, 1920 was no doubt much like any other in the Revell household at 10 Connaught Street, Dublin. Richard John Revell, my grandfather (hereafter referred to as RJR), was a sergeant in the Dublin Metropolitan Police and was preparing to leave for work. He had been a member of the DMP for about 25 years and a member of G Division since 1901. For the previous six years he had been exclusively employed doing clerical work in the head office of the detective division at Dublin Castle. As she normally did, his wife Sarah helped him put on and fasten his steel breastplate underneath his clothing prior to his cycling to the Castle. My father, who was only 4½ at the time, remembers his mother doing this every morning before his father left for work. He no doubt wore protection in response to warnings received by the men of G division that they were potential targets for attack (see extract below from the Bureau of Military History witness statement by Joe Leonard). My father told me that my grandfather knew he was a target and that he was expecting to be ambushed at some point as so many other G men had already been killed. Shortly before 9:30 am RJR left his house and turned into Phibsborough Road, and had only gone about 100 yards when shots rang out and he fell off his bicycle into the street.
There are discrepancies between the witness statements from the Bureau of Military History records and the newspaper articles regarding the details of the incident. In one BMH statement it says that four men were detailed to carry out the attack, another says that there were two men to an assassination squad and the other men were there to act as guards. There is a detailed account of the shooting in The Irish Times of May 10, 1920, and also in the Northern Whig Belfast Post of the same date. Both articles are reproduced at the end of this tribute. In spite of the discrepancies, it is certain that several men waited in ambush on Phibsborough Road, which was quite busy with people at that time. When RJR turned from Connaught Street into Phibsborough road, the men left the footpath, crossed over the tramlines, pulled out their revolvers and shot him four or five times, wounding him in the neck, arm and leg. As to the exact location of the shooting, The Irish Times article states that it occurred about 100 yards from Doyle’s Corner and almost opposite the Bohemian Picture Theatre, which is no longer there. One woman who heard the shots and went outside to see what was going on said RJR collapsed outside her home at number 78; Major General P. Daly’s BMH witness statement says he thought it was outside number 88. What is indisputable is that RJR was shot several times, fell off his bicycle into the street and was unable to get up. Immediately after the shooting, the attackers ran away towards the Cross Guns Bridge and were pursued by a policeman who was on point duty at Doyle’s Corner. Upon hearing the shots, he drew his revolver and gave chase, but his heavy overcoat hampered him and the assailants escaped.

Photo of Doyle's Corner from the Eason Collection in the National Library of Ireland

Photo of Cross Guns Bridge from the Eason Collection in the National Library of Ireland
RJR was lying in the street covered in blood from the wound to his neck, and several bystanders and witnesses came to his aid; someone gave him water and a man insisted he have some whiskey. He remained conscious and calm throughout and asked someone to send for his wife, who was apparently standing at the doorway after having heard the shots ring out. She immediately left her home and rushed to her husband’s side, then sat holding his head in her arms awaiting the arrival of an ambulance that had been called for from a nearby shop. Throughout this time RJR remained lucid and able to talk to the people around him and stated that he could identify one of his attackers (see Vincent Byrne’s BMH witness statement). When the ambulance arrived, Sarah accompanied him to the Adelaide Hospital where surgery was performed. The wound in the neck was just below RJR’s left ear; two bullets entered his left arm, fracturing the bone, and another bullet was lodged in his leg (probably his left leg as the other wounds were on his left side).

Newspaper clippings about the shooting from the Marlborough Express and the Barrier Miner
I always heard in the family that my grandfather was shot seven times, even though the newspaper articles and the BMH witness statements say something different. However data exist to support seven shots:
(1) A DMP Register Extract states as an observation: Shot and wounded 7 times on 6 May 1920 (the incorrect date is probably a typo). The Register Extract appears later in this article.
(2) See the excerpt below from page 76 in the book Guerrilla Warfare in the Irish War of Independence, 1919-1921, by Joseph McKenna.

(3) Lastly, and perhaps most compelling, see the second to last paragraph of this article.
The shooting is referred to in several BMH witness statements. Following is an excerpt from page 2 of Witness Statement 547 by Colonel Joe Leonard, Member of 2nd Battalion Dublin Brigade 1916; Member of 'The Squad' 1919:
Prior to this date the G. Men had all been rounded up and specifically warned that they would, in future, be taking their lives in their own hands if they continued to spy on our members.
And further in the statement on page 9:
Detective Dalton and Detective Sergeant Revell got a dusting down in Connaught Street.
Witness statement 387 by Major General P. Daly, Officer Commanding Squad and Active Service Unit, contains the following on pages 29–30:
Shooting of Detective Sergeant Revell:
About April 1920 some members of the Squad were becoming dissatisfied because, they said, they were not being given any responsible tasks, that they were merely covering up for the men who were actually carrying out the executions, and that headquarters would take the view that their activities, as far as the squad concerned, were insignificant, which was not the case. The reports going to headquarters were verbal, they were never written, and these men thought that as they did not carry out any of the actual executions headquarters would consider that they were doing nothing of importance. I promised them that they would carry out the next operation, which happened to be the elimination of Sergeant Revell. As in the majority of the executions that were carried out, we were not aware of the reason for his elimination, we simply got orders to carry out the execution of Revell. The reasons did not concern us.
Revell lived either in Connaught St. or Leinster St., one of the streets off Phibsboro’ Road. There were four men detailed to carry out the execution of Revell, and? I think, Tom Keogh, Joe Leonard and myself were to act as a covering party for the four men. Tom Keogh was in position near Doyle’s Corner, and I was up beyond the picture-house on the Glasnevin side. We expected Revell to come from his home at about half-past nine or ten o'clock in the morning. When Revell came along on his bicycle the four men simply closed around him and fired at him. The shooting took place outside Jack Toomey's house, which I think was no. 88 Phibsboro’ Road. The last I saw of Revell was when he was lying flat on his back on the road. I think one of the four men pulled Revell off his bicycle when he was not falling quickly enough.
We moved off when we saw Revell lying in the road. Torn Keogh overtook me on the road back and said something like, “These fellows will do a bit of crowing now". We were perfectly satisfied that Revell was dead, and we were mesmerized when we read in the paper that night that he had only been wounded. He boasted that he lay stretched on the road and that the squad did not fire on him as he lay there. He did not die of his wounds, he may still be alive for all I know.
Witness Statement 423 by Vincent Byrne, Member of 2nd Battalion Dublin Brigade Irish Volunteers, 1915; Member of 'The Squad' 1919-1921, pages 42–44:
Shooting of Detective Sergeant Revelle, 8th May, 1920.
Information was received, that this man was a danger to the movement. The squad received its usual instructions. This G-man lived in one of the streets off Phibsboro' Road - the first one on the left-hand side coming from the city. It was the habit of this man to sleep at home. I suppose he did not think we could find out anything about him. He worked in the Castle. As we did not know exactly his movements, as to how he went to the Castle, I was detailed to track him and report.
On the morning before he was shot, I arrived at Phibsboro’ Road at 9 a.m., unarmed, and took up a position about fifty yards from Connaught St. on the right hand side coming from the city. I was standing there, I would say, about half an hour, when he came out of Connaught St. I tried to look as innocent as I could. He walked down Phibsboro Road towards the city on the right-hand side. As he came right opposite to me, he stopped and stared very hard over at me. Whether I showed any signs of watching him, I do not know. He moved off at a smart pace. I let him have a few yards' start of me and then I commenced to follow him. He disappeared in a flash; and then I saw him standing behind a tramway standard and looking towards me. I halted and pretended to look at my watch. Looking up and down the road he moved off again. I made no further attempt to follow him, as I could see that he had me under cover. The next thing, he went over to the policeman, who was on point duty at Phibsboro, and had a conversation with him. I said to myself: “It's about time I made myself scarce”. I boarded a tram going towards Glasnevin, got off it at Lindsay Road and proceeded to Mick McDonnell’s house to make my report. With Mick McDonnell was Liam Tobin who, I believe, had stopped with him that night. I told them all that had happened. One of them said: “We had better have a go in the morning - meaning the next day. The squad was notified that evening to be ready for the following morning, telling them what the job was.
The squad duly took up their position on Phibsboro Rd. They had not very long to wait when Revelle appeared, cycling out of Connaught St. The two men detailed for the actual job were standing about twenty-five yards from Connaught St. on the left hand side coming from the city. As he came within a few feet of them they stepped out on the roadway and let him have it. He was beaten across the street with gunfire. When the job was finished, they made off towards the Cross Guns Bridge. In the meantime, the peeler, who was on point-duty at Phibsboro’, started to run up the Phibsboro’ Road to where the shooting took place, and kept on running with a revolver in his hand - an old Bulldog type. He had not a hope in hell of catching them. However, the story is told that he followed them as far as the bridge, where the flour mill is situated. There was a crowd of men standing outside the mill, who were employed there. The peeler said to them: “Why didn't you stop them?” One of them replied: “Not bloody likely! Do you want us to get the same as the fellow got down there?”. Revelle was not killed, as it transpired afterwards; he was wearing a steel jacket. That evening, the newspaper gave an account of what had happened. One of the newspaper men had an interview with Revelle during the day, and Revelle was reported as saying: “I would know one of them very well, as I had seen him the previous morning”. Needless to say, we were disappointed that he was not finished off completely, but I suppose his time had not come. It left me in the position that I could never be arrested after this, as Revelle was in the Castle and would identify me at any time.
Perhaps the method used in carrying out these operations should be explained. First of all, the men selected for squad work were brought on a few jobs and shown how they were carried out; secondly, each man had to prove his mettle, and was detailed to do an actual job; thirdly, there were always two men detailed, and fourthly, the remainder of the squad would take up positions to act as a guard around them.
Witness statement 1,280 by Colonel Eamon Broy, IRA Intelligence Agent in Dublin Castle, refers to RJR on age 55 but does not detail the attack (Broy was a double agent with the rank of Detective Sergeant and worked as a clerk inside the G division branch):
I asked him to warn de Valera in case the latter wished to evade arrest. I sprinted back and, on turning into the North Circular Road, met Detective Sergeant Revell, who was stationed in the “political” office in the Castle and lived in the Phibsborough area. I told him that we were “looking for” de Valera and that Fagan was in Mountjoy police station. Revell did not suspect me of anything and returned with me to meet Fagan. He quite sympathised with Fagan's grievance and agreed that the arrest should be left to the outdoor “political” staff and that Fagan should not go near Munster St. at all. So Fagan and I returned to the Detective Office, but Fagan was afraid for some time afterwards that Revell, who was a loyalist, might report that Fagan did not try to carry out the arrest. However, Revell did not like the Superintendent and did nothing further in the matter.
Part 2: Who Was RJR?
My grandfather was born 18 December, 1873 to Samuel Revell and Rebecca Purser Revell at Green Drogon cottage on the Bruen Estate in Oak Park, Painestown, Co. Carlow. His father was a blacksmith on the estate of Henry Bruen, Esq., who was the family’s landlord and was also a Privy Councillor, Deputy Lieutenants and Justice of the Peace.

RJR was the second child and eldest of six sons born to Samuel and Rebecca, and he was baptized into the Church of Ireland as Richard John on 19 April, 1874 in the Parish of Staplestown. An entry in his bible shows he was confirmed 4 June, 1890 in the Parish of Painestown & St. Anne’s. He was apprenticed to his father, but either realized the blacksmith life was not for him or he had aspirations of a police career, so on 5 October, 1895 he joined the Dublin Metropolitan Police force with warrant number 9956. No doubt a recommendation by the Right Honourable Henry Bruen helped. At the time RJR was 5 ft. 11¼ inches tall and he had fair hair and blue eyes.

Frontispiece of my grandfather's bible
He was attached to E Division on 20 September, 1895, then to A Division on 15 April, 1898 and finally to G Division on 18 January, 1901. In May 1905 he took the Civil Service Commission examination and was awarded the Certificate of Education, Third Class. Six months later he was awarded the Second Class certificate, and in November 1906 he passed the certificate in Optional Subject (we don’t know what that was). He was promoted to Sergeant on 1 October, 1914. In November 1919 he was awarded the First Class certificate. I believe the handwriting in the upper right-hand corner of each certificate is that of my grandfather.




During his service with the DMP he was awarded several medals: the Visit to Ireland Medal 1900 (visit of Queen Victoria); the Royal Victoria Medal, plus Certificate, which was awarded to those below the rank of officer who perform personal services to the sovereign or to members of the Royal Family; the Visit to Ireland Medal 1903 (visit of King Edward VII); and the Visit to Ireland Medal 1911 (visit of King George V). All three visit medals were awarded to the officers of the RIC and DMP who were on duty and involved in the security and policing of various events connected with the Royal visits.

Aside from his DMP life, RJR had a full personal life. He married Sarah Jane Armstrong of Osierbrook, Kinnitty, on 9 April, 1902 in the Parish church of St. George in Dublin.

Photo of Richard John Revell around the time of his marriage
They settled down at 12 Killarney Parade, in the North Dublin Ward of Inns Quay, and by 1910 had a family of two sons and two daughters: Rebecca Adelaide born 28 September, 1903; Henry Armstrong born 23 September, 1904; Samuel Alexander born 22 August, 1906 and Bessie Anne born 2 March, 1910. Sometime between 1911 and 1915 the family moved to 10 Connaught Street, where my father was born 22 October, 1915 and named Richard John after his father. Things no doubt continued well for the family until that fateful day in 1920 that changed all their lives. After RJR recovered from his wounds, he and the family were moved into Dublin Castle for safety. On 1 June, 1922 RJR was transferred from the DMP to the Royal Irish Constabulary, warrant number 83716, and was pensioned off from service on the same date.

Part 3: What Became of RJR?
The Revell family moved to England in 1923 to escape further harm against either RJR or the family. Both RJR and Sarah had siblings living in England so perhaps that was another motivator. My grandfather bought a house in the Chiswick suburb of London and they settled into their new life. The house at 47 Thorney Hedge Road was on a residential street off Chiswick High Road and backed onto the old Bush Radio factory. Obviously RJR and Sarah missed Ireland and wanted to keep something of their Irish heritage because they named the house Baile Átha Cliath, the Gaelic name for Dublin. The family attended church every Sunday at the nearby Episcopal Church of St. James and RJR’s three sons all joined the Boys Brigade.
I don’t know exactly what sort of work RJR did in England, but it was definitely clerical. His death certificate lists his occupation as secretary for a charitable society, and his occupation was listed as secretary on my parents’ marriage certificate. I only ever remember him as being retired as he was 72 when I was born. RJR obviously retained some of his blacksmith talents as he had an area set up in the cellar of number 47 where he mended the family shoes when they all lived at home. From all accounts it was a happy time, though I think that RJR was a bit of a disciplinarian — my father wanted to apprentice to be a carpenter, but his father refused permission, probably because he didn’t want any son of his performing manual work. Except for the eldest daughter who had been expected to stay home and help her mother run the house, all the children were married by the end of 1941.
Sadly on 31 March, 1944 Sarah died from a heart attack, and she was buried in Greenford Park Cemetery. RJR continued to live on in the house with his daughters and son-in-law. As a child I remember that when I visited him my grandfather was always dressed in a 3-piece suit and a tie, along with his fob watch and he always wore shoes, never slippers. By then he wore glasses and his hair had turned white. He still had his Irish accent and spoke with a soft voice. He had a gap between his two front teeth into which a half crown would fit; my father inherited the gap and so did I. Whenever my father visited he spoke to my grandfather with an Irish accent, something he obviously thought his father appreciated. Every summer RJR would travel to the Police Treatment Centre in St Andrews, in Harrogate, North Yorkshire, for a 2-week stay and I always looked forward to my souvenir tin of Harrogate toffee that he brought back.
RJR died on 22 or 23 December, 1963 in Acton Hospital after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage. His death certificate lists his date of death as 22nd and registered on 23rd; the date on his grave is 23rd. He is buried with his beloved Sarah in Greenford Park Cemetery. When my father was going through some of my grandfather’s things at the house sometime after the funeral he came across a small leather pouch. Inside were the seven bullets that RJR had been shot with; he had kept them all those years. It is quite possible that the other 3 bullets that didn’t wound him got stuck in his clothing or were stopped by the armour that he wore.

With this tribute, Detective Sergeant Richard John Revell (Sr.) is not just a name in police records, witness statements and newspaper articles, but a real person who led a full life and will live on in the hearts and minds of those who knew and loved him. Thanks to modern technology, he will also live on in the worldwide audience of the Internet.

He was many things to many people: police officer, hero, husband and father — but to me he was, and always will be, my Granddad.

Part 1: Richard John Revell, G Man

Photos of Richard John Revell shortly after he joined the DMP
Saturday morning 8 May, 1920 was no doubt much like any other in the Revell household at 10 Connaught Street, Dublin. Richard John Revell, my grandfather (hereafter referred to as RJR), was a sergeant in the Dublin Metropolitan Police and was preparing to leave for work. He had been a member of the DMP for about 25 years and a member of G Division since 1901. For the previous six years he had been exclusively employed doing clerical work in the head office of the detective division at Dublin Castle. As she normally did, his wife Sarah helped him put on and fasten his steel breastplate underneath his clothing prior to his cycling to the Castle. My father, who was only 4½ at the time, remembers his mother doing this every morning before his father left for work. He no doubt wore protection in response to warnings received by the men of G division that they were potential targets for attack (see extract below from the Bureau of Military History witness statement by Joe Leonard). My father told me that my grandfather knew he was a target and that he was expecting to be ambushed at some point as so many other G men had already been killed. Shortly before 9:30 am RJR left his house and turned into Phibsborough Road, and had only gone about 100 yards when shots rang out and he fell off his bicycle into the street.
There are discrepancies between the witness statements from the Bureau of Military History records and the newspaper articles regarding the details of the incident. In one BMH statement it says that four men were detailed to carry out the attack, another says that there were two men to an assassination squad and the other men were there to act as guards. There is a detailed account of the shooting in The Irish Times of May 10, 1920, and also in the Northern Whig Belfast Post of the same date. Both articles are reproduced at the end of this tribute. In spite of the discrepancies, it is certain that several men waited in ambush on Phibsborough Road, which was quite busy with people at that time. When RJR turned from Connaught Street into Phibsborough road, the men left the footpath, crossed over the tramlines, pulled out their revolvers and shot him four or five times, wounding him in the neck, arm and leg. As to the exact location of the shooting, The Irish Times article states that it occurred about 100 yards from Doyle’s Corner and almost opposite the Bohemian Picture Theatre, which is no longer there. One woman who heard the shots and went outside to see what was going on said RJR collapsed outside her home at number 78; Major General P. Daly’s BMH witness statement says he thought it was outside number 88. What is indisputable is that RJR was shot several times, fell off his bicycle into the street and was unable to get up. Immediately after the shooting, the attackers ran away towards the Cross Guns Bridge and were pursued by a policeman who was on point duty at Doyle’s Corner. Upon hearing the shots, he drew his revolver and gave chase, but his heavy overcoat hampered him and the assailants escaped.

Photo of Doyle's Corner from the Eason Collection in the National Library of Ireland

Photo of Cross Guns Bridge from the Eason Collection in the National Library of Ireland
RJR was lying in the street covered in blood from the wound to his neck, and several bystanders and witnesses came to his aid; someone gave him water and a man insisted he have some whiskey. He remained conscious and calm throughout and asked someone to send for his wife, who was apparently standing at the doorway after having heard the shots ring out. She immediately left her home and rushed to her husband’s side, then sat holding his head in her arms awaiting the arrival of an ambulance that had been called for from a nearby shop. Throughout this time RJR remained lucid and able to talk to the people around him and stated that he could identify one of his attackers (see Vincent Byrne’s BMH witness statement). When the ambulance arrived, Sarah accompanied him to the Adelaide Hospital where surgery was performed. The wound in the neck was just below RJR’s left ear; two bullets entered his left arm, fracturing the bone, and another bullet was lodged in his leg (probably his left leg as the other wounds were on his left side).

Newspaper clippings about the shooting from the Marlborough Express and the Barrier Miner
I always heard in the family that my grandfather was shot seven times, even though the newspaper articles and the BMH witness statements say something different. However data exist to support seven shots:
(1) A DMP Register Extract states as an observation: Shot and wounded 7 times on 6 May 1920 (the incorrect date is probably a typo). The Register Extract appears later in this article.
(2) See the excerpt below from page 76 in the book Guerrilla Warfare in the Irish War of Independence, 1919-1921, by Joseph McKenna.

(3) Lastly, and perhaps most compelling, see the second to last paragraph of this article.
The shooting is referred to in several BMH witness statements. Following is an excerpt from page 2 of Witness Statement 547 by Colonel Joe Leonard, Member of 2nd Battalion Dublin Brigade 1916; Member of 'The Squad' 1919:
Prior to this date the G. Men had all been rounded up and specifically warned that they would, in future, be taking their lives in their own hands if they continued to spy on our members.
And further in the statement on page 9:
Detective Dalton and Detective Sergeant Revell got a dusting down in Connaught Street.
Witness statement 387 by Major General P. Daly, Officer Commanding Squad and Active Service Unit, contains the following on pages 29–30:
Shooting of Detective Sergeant Revell:
About April 1920 some members of the Squad were becoming dissatisfied because, they said, they were not being given any responsible tasks, that they were merely covering up for the men who were actually carrying out the executions, and that headquarters would take the view that their activities, as far as the squad concerned, were insignificant, which was not the case. The reports going to headquarters were verbal, they were never written, and these men thought that as they did not carry out any of the actual executions headquarters would consider that they were doing nothing of importance. I promised them that they would carry out the next operation, which happened to be the elimination of Sergeant Revell. As in the majority of the executions that were carried out, we were not aware of the reason for his elimination, we simply got orders to carry out the execution of Revell. The reasons did not concern us.
Revell lived either in Connaught St. or Leinster St., one of the streets off Phibsboro’ Road. There were four men detailed to carry out the execution of Revell, and? I think, Tom Keogh, Joe Leonard and myself were to act as a covering party for the four men. Tom Keogh was in position near Doyle’s Corner, and I was up beyond the picture-house on the Glasnevin side. We expected Revell to come from his home at about half-past nine or ten o'clock in the morning. When Revell came along on his bicycle the four men simply closed around him and fired at him. The shooting took place outside Jack Toomey's house, which I think was no. 88 Phibsboro’ Road. The last I saw of Revell was when he was lying flat on his back on the road. I think one of the four men pulled Revell off his bicycle when he was not falling quickly enough.
We moved off when we saw Revell lying in the road. Torn Keogh overtook me on the road back and said something like, “These fellows will do a bit of crowing now". We were perfectly satisfied that Revell was dead, and we were mesmerized when we read in the paper that night that he had only been wounded. He boasted that he lay stretched on the road and that the squad did not fire on him as he lay there. He did not die of his wounds, he may still be alive for all I know.
Witness Statement 423 by Vincent Byrne, Member of 2nd Battalion Dublin Brigade Irish Volunteers, 1915; Member of 'The Squad' 1919-1921, pages 42–44:
Shooting of Detective Sergeant Revelle, 8th May, 1920.
Information was received, that this man was a danger to the movement. The squad received its usual instructions. This G-man lived in one of the streets off Phibsboro' Road - the first one on the left-hand side coming from the city. It was the habit of this man to sleep at home. I suppose he did not think we could find out anything about him. He worked in the Castle. As we did not know exactly his movements, as to how he went to the Castle, I was detailed to track him and report.
On the morning before he was shot, I arrived at Phibsboro’ Road at 9 a.m., unarmed, and took up a position about fifty yards from Connaught St. on the right hand side coming from the city. I was standing there, I would say, about half an hour, when he came out of Connaught St. I tried to look as innocent as I could. He walked down Phibsboro Road towards the city on the right-hand side. As he came right opposite to me, he stopped and stared very hard over at me. Whether I showed any signs of watching him, I do not know. He moved off at a smart pace. I let him have a few yards' start of me and then I commenced to follow him. He disappeared in a flash; and then I saw him standing behind a tramway standard and looking towards me. I halted and pretended to look at my watch. Looking up and down the road he moved off again. I made no further attempt to follow him, as I could see that he had me under cover. The next thing, he went over to the policeman, who was on point duty at Phibsboro, and had a conversation with him. I said to myself: “It's about time I made myself scarce”. I boarded a tram going towards Glasnevin, got off it at Lindsay Road and proceeded to Mick McDonnell’s house to make my report. With Mick McDonnell was Liam Tobin who, I believe, had stopped with him that night. I told them all that had happened. One of them said: “We had better have a go in the morning - meaning the next day. The squad was notified that evening to be ready for the following morning, telling them what the job was.
The squad duly took up their position on Phibsboro Rd. They had not very long to wait when Revelle appeared, cycling out of Connaught St. The two men detailed for the actual job were standing about twenty-five yards from Connaught St. on the left hand side coming from the city. As he came within a few feet of them they stepped out on the roadway and let him have it. He was beaten across the street with gunfire. When the job was finished, they made off towards the Cross Guns Bridge. In the meantime, the peeler, who was on point-duty at Phibsboro’, started to run up the Phibsboro’ Road to where the shooting took place, and kept on running with a revolver in his hand - an old Bulldog type. He had not a hope in hell of catching them. However, the story is told that he followed them as far as the bridge, where the flour mill is situated. There was a crowd of men standing outside the mill, who were employed there. The peeler said to them: “Why didn't you stop them?” One of them replied: “Not bloody likely! Do you want us to get the same as the fellow got down there?”. Revelle was not killed, as it transpired afterwards; he was wearing a steel jacket. That evening, the newspaper gave an account of what had happened. One of the newspaper men had an interview with Revelle during the day, and Revelle was reported as saying: “I would know one of them very well, as I had seen him the previous morning”. Needless to say, we were disappointed that he was not finished off completely, but I suppose his time had not come. It left me in the position that I could never be arrested after this, as Revelle was in the Castle and would identify me at any time.
Perhaps the method used in carrying out these operations should be explained. First of all, the men selected for squad work were brought on a few jobs and shown how they were carried out; secondly, each man had to prove his mettle, and was detailed to do an actual job; thirdly, there were always two men detailed, and fourthly, the remainder of the squad would take up positions to act as a guard around them.
Witness statement 1,280 by Colonel Eamon Broy, IRA Intelligence Agent in Dublin Castle, refers to RJR on age 55 but does not detail the attack (Broy was a double agent with the rank of Detective Sergeant and worked as a clerk inside the G division branch):
I asked him to warn de Valera in case the latter wished to evade arrest. I sprinted back and, on turning into the North Circular Road, met Detective Sergeant Revell, who was stationed in the “political” office in the Castle and lived in the Phibsborough area. I told him that we were “looking for” de Valera and that Fagan was in Mountjoy police station. Revell did not suspect me of anything and returned with me to meet Fagan. He quite sympathised with Fagan's grievance and agreed that the arrest should be left to the outdoor “political” staff and that Fagan should not go near Munster St. at all. So Fagan and I returned to the Detective Office, but Fagan was afraid for some time afterwards that Revell, who was a loyalist, might report that Fagan did not try to carry out the arrest. However, Revell did not like the Superintendent and did nothing further in the matter.
Part 2: Who Was RJR?
My grandfather was born 18 December, 1873 to Samuel Revell and Rebecca Purser Revell at Green Drogon cottage on the Bruen Estate in Oak Park, Painestown, Co. Carlow. His father was a blacksmith on the estate of Henry Bruen, Esq., who was the family’s landlord and was also a Privy Councillor, Deputy Lieutenants and Justice of the Peace.

RJR was the second child and eldest of six sons born to Samuel and Rebecca, and he was baptized into the Church of Ireland as Richard John on 19 April, 1874 in the Parish of Staplestown. An entry in his bible shows he was confirmed 4 June, 1890 in the Parish of Painestown & St. Anne’s. He was apprenticed to his father, but either realized the blacksmith life was not for him or he had aspirations of a police career, so on 5 October, 1895 he joined the Dublin Metropolitan Police force with warrant number 9956. No doubt a recommendation by the Right Honourable Henry Bruen helped. At the time RJR was 5 ft. 11¼ inches tall and he had fair hair and blue eyes.

Frontispiece of my grandfather's bible
He was attached to E Division on 20 September, 1895, then to A Division on 15 April, 1898 and finally to G Division on 18 January, 1901. In May 1905 he took the Civil Service Commission examination and was awarded the Certificate of Education, Third Class. Six months later he was awarded the Second Class certificate, and in November 1906 he passed the certificate in Optional Subject (we don’t know what that was). He was promoted to Sergeant on 1 October, 1914. In November 1919 he was awarded the First Class certificate. I believe the handwriting in the upper right-hand corner of each certificate is that of my grandfather.




During his service with the DMP he was awarded several medals: the Visit to Ireland Medal 1900 (visit of Queen Victoria); the Royal Victoria Medal, plus Certificate, which was awarded to those below the rank of officer who perform personal services to the sovereign or to members of the Royal Family; the Visit to Ireland Medal 1903 (visit of King Edward VII); and the Visit to Ireland Medal 1911 (visit of King George V). All three visit medals were awarded to the officers of the RIC and DMP who were on duty and involved in the security and policing of various events connected with the Royal visits.

Aside from his DMP life, RJR had a full personal life. He married Sarah Jane Armstrong of Osierbrook, Kinnitty, on 9 April, 1902 in the Parish church of St. George in Dublin.

Photo of Richard John Revell around the time of his marriage
They settled down at 12 Killarney Parade, in the North Dublin Ward of Inns Quay, and by 1910 had a family of two sons and two daughters: Rebecca Adelaide born 28 September, 1903; Henry Armstrong born 23 September, 1904; Samuel Alexander born 22 August, 1906 and Bessie Anne born 2 March, 1910. Sometime between 1911 and 1915 the family moved to 10 Connaught Street, where my father was born 22 October, 1915 and named Richard John after his father. Things no doubt continued well for the family until that fateful day in 1920 that changed all their lives. After RJR recovered from his wounds, he and the family were moved into Dublin Castle for safety. On 1 June, 1922 RJR was transferred from the DMP to the Royal Irish Constabulary, warrant number 83716, and was pensioned off from service on the same date.

Part 3: What Became of RJR?
The Revell family moved to England in 1923 to escape further harm against either RJR or the family. Both RJR and Sarah had siblings living in England so perhaps that was another motivator. My grandfather bought a house in the Chiswick suburb of London and they settled into their new life. The house at 47 Thorney Hedge Road was on a residential street off Chiswick High Road and backed onto the old Bush Radio factory. Obviously RJR and Sarah missed Ireland and wanted to keep something of their Irish heritage because they named the house Baile Átha Cliath, the Gaelic name for Dublin. The family attended church every Sunday at the nearby Episcopal Church of St. James and RJR’s three sons all joined the Boys Brigade.
I don’t know exactly what sort of work RJR did in England, but it was definitely clerical. His death certificate lists his occupation as secretary for a charitable society, and his occupation was listed as secretary on my parents’ marriage certificate. I only ever remember him as being retired as he was 72 when I was born. RJR obviously retained some of his blacksmith talents as he had an area set up in the cellar of number 47 where he mended the family shoes when they all lived at home. From all accounts it was a happy time, though I think that RJR was a bit of a disciplinarian — my father wanted to apprentice to be a carpenter, but his father refused permission, probably because he didn’t want any son of his performing manual work. Except for the eldest daughter who had been expected to stay home and help her mother run the house, all the children were married by the end of 1941.
Sadly on 31 March, 1944 Sarah died from a heart attack, and she was buried in Greenford Park Cemetery. RJR continued to live on in the house with his daughters and son-in-law. As a child I remember that when I visited him my grandfather was always dressed in a 3-piece suit and a tie, along with his fob watch and he always wore shoes, never slippers. By then he wore glasses and his hair had turned white. He still had his Irish accent and spoke with a soft voice. He had a gap between his two front teeth into which a half crown would fit; my father inherited the gap and so did I. Whenever my father visited he spoke to my grandfather with an Irish accent, something he obviously thought his father appreciated. Every summer RJR would travel to the Police Treatment Centre in St Andrews, in Harrogate, North Yorkshire, for a 2-week stay and I always looked forward to my souvenir tin of Harrogate toffee that he brought back.
RJR died on 22 or 23 December, 1963 in Acton Hospital after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage. His death certificate lists his date of death as 22nd and registered on 23rd; the date on his grave is 23rd. He is buried with his beloved Sarah in Greenford Park Cemetery. When my father was going through some of my grandfather’s things at the house sometime after the funeral he came across a small leather pouch. Inside were the seven bullets that RJR had been shot with; he had kept them all those years. It is quite possible that the other 3 bullets that didn’t wound him got stuck in his clothing or were stopped by the armour that he wore.

With this tribute, Detective Sergeant Richard John Revell (Sr.) is not just a name in police records, witness statements and newspaper articles, but a real person who led a full life and will live on in the hearts and minds of those who knew and loved him. Thanks to modern technology, he will also live on in the worldwide audience of the Internet.

He was many things to many people: police officer, hero, husband and father — but to me he was, and always will be, my Granddad.

