Political thought in Ireland, 1776-1798: republicanism, patriotism, and radicalism

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Political Thought in Ireland 1776-1798 ,Republicanism, Patriotism, and Radicalism Small, Stephen Print publication date: 2002, Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: January 2010 Print ISBN-13: 978-0-19-925779-9, doi:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199257799.001.0001

Introduction Stephen Small Historical writing on eighteenth-century Ireland often seeks, implicitly or explicitly, to explain the Rebellion of 1798 and the Union with Britain that followed. Events of such historical significance, concluding the century with such chronological neatness, inevitably make this a seductive goal. This book, in part, follows the pattern, for it is an intellectual history of the political ideas that inspired republican, separatist rebellion. But it is also an attempt to recover the cacophony of political languages used in late eighteenth-century Ireland and to understand them in the context of their time—whether they ultimately informed the rhetoric of rebellion or slowly diminished into silence amid the din of debate on the French Revolution. The main focus is the expression and evolution of three key political themes: patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism. 1

1

These terms are defined and discussed in Ch. 1.

The work is primarily a history of political thought and language, but one that connects ideas and rhetoric to events and individuals. Its purpose is threefold: first, to describe the political languages and ideas used by Patriots, radicals, and republicans in Ireland from the American Revolution until the Rebellion; second, to understand how and why these languages and ideas developed over this period; third, to show how they informed the mentalités of the individuals who expressed these ideas in order to understand their political actions. These individuals, via groups like the Volunteers and the United Irishmen, had a profound influence on the history of late eighteenthcentury Ireland. They helped secure free trade and legislative independence between 1779 and 1782. They put parliamentary reform and Catholic rights firmly on the political agenda—helping to win considerable concessions with regard to the latter in 1793. And they contributed to the bloody and unsuccessful rebellion of 1798—an event that led directly to an Act of Union that has shaped Irish politics to this day. This book will help explain the ideological motivations for these events. In doing so, it will shed new light on the origins of Irish republican nationalism and place late eighteenth-century Irish political thought in the larger context of British, Atlantic, and European ideas. The main argument is that Irish patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism were largely constructed out of five key political languages: Protestant superiority, ancient constitutionalism, commercial grievance, classical end p.1

republicanism, and natural rights. These political languages, 2

2

I use this term broadly in the sense that Pocock uses it. See J. G. A. Pocock, ‘The Concept of a Language and the métier d’historien: Some Considerations

on Practice’, in A. Pagden (ed.), The Languages of Political Theory in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, 1987), 19–38.

often Irish dialects of languages common in the English-speaking and European world, were combined in the late 1770s to construct the classic expression of eighteenth-century Irish patriotism. Over the next two decades, the American and French Revolutions, the reform movement, popular politi-cization, Catholic political revival, and Protestant Ascendancy reaction stretched, disrupted, and transformed these languages. The result was the fragmentation of a broad Irish Patriot consensus and the emergence from it of radical republicanism. This development was by no means straightforward, natural, or painless. The patriotism of 1776 differed in key respects from the radical republicanism of 1798, and the shift involved the modification or abandonment of cherished elements of ancient constitutional, Protestant, and classical republican languages. But many patriots did become radicals and some even became anti-monarchical republicans. The main narrative is an explanation of how these ideological and linguistic developments came about. The overarching fivefold categorization of political language outlined above does not preclude other influences on patriots, radicals, and republicans. Indeed, recognition of the broad and eclectic origins of their political opinions is crucial to a full understanding of eighteenthcentury Ireland. Among other influences, Presbyterian theology is worthy of note, especially as Ulster Dissenters played such an important part in Irish radicalism. Its omission as a linguistic category is not a denial of Dissent’s organizational and motivational importance, rather a recognition that the political arguments of Dissenters were largely expressed in terms of the five key languages. 3

3

For a detailed discussion of the political activity, thought, and influence of Ulster Dissenters, see I. McBride, Scripture Politics: Ulster Presbyterians and Irish

Radicalism in the Late Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 1998). As McBride points out, ‘Ulster reformers spoke the common political languages of the British Atlantic world [but] they did so with their own distinctive inflection... religious belief continued to shape the ways in which these paradigms were transmitted digested and applied.’ When needed to shed light on this ‘distinctive inflection’, these religious beliefs are explained, but they are not a major theme of this work. See also A. T. Q. Stewart, A Deeper Silence: The Hidden Origins of the United Irish Movement

(London, 1993).

An exception is the millenarianism that was relatively unimportant to Patriot thought in the 1770s and 1780s, but which did inform the popular republicanism of Dissenters in the 1790s. Aspects of this language, which was not exclusive to Dissenters, will be explored in Chapter 7. Jacobitism is arguably another linguistic influence. However, Jacobite thought, while certainly important among Catholics for PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


most of end p.2

the century and occasionally discernible in popular Catholic republicanism by the end of the 1790s, was generally antithetical to the traditions examined in this book—which originated in Protestant, Whig sensibilities. 4

4

A Jacobite rhetoric of quasi-messianic deliverance was occasionally transposed to more promising candidates (i.e. France, the United Irishmen, or

Napoleon) in the popular radical republicanism of the late 1790s. This use of Jacobitism makes a distinctive contribution to popular radical republicanism but is entirely absent from official United Irish writing. Some Jacobite sentiment may also have been a minor influence on Patriot ambivalence to George III (although this is more likely to reflect the influence of Bolingbroke than native Irish thought in the pamphlets examined here). For a broader discussion of Irish Jacobitism, see Breandan O Buachalla, ‘Irish Jacobitism and Irish Nationalism: The Literary Evidence’, in Michael O’Dea and Kevin Whelan (eds.), Nations and Nationalisms: France, Britain, Ireland and the Eighteenth-Century Context (Oxford, 1995), 103–16.

Simply put, the weight of evidence reveals the five languages of Protestant superiority, ancient constitutionalism, classical republicanism, commercial grievance, and natural rights to be the basic materials of patriot, republican, and radical rhetoric. Thus, the evolution, combination, and decline of these languages provide the basic architecture of the book.

I . THE HISTORIOGRAPHICAL CONTEXT The ever-burgeoning literature on late eighteenth-century Ireland contains much of significance for the historian of Irish political thought. The work of McDowell, Elliott, Bartlett, Cullen, Curtin, Hill, Smyth, Kelly, Whelan, and others has greatly increased our knowledge of this period and especially of the 1790s. The United Irishmen, in particular, have come in for serious scrutiny in the past two decades, leading to the claim that ‘Ireland’s first republicans’ have been ‘rescued from a rather parochial nationalist hagiography as historians have begun to place them in a general context of late eighteenth-century European or transatlantic radicalism’. 5

5

N. J. Curtin, The United Irishmen: Popular Politics in Ulster and Dublin 1791–1798 (Oxford 1994), 2.

But these historians have generally tended to examine the ideologies and arguments of groups or individuals primarily as a means to explain their actions rather than as an end in itself. Marianne Elliott’s enormous contribution to the field has focused on the international revolutionary activity of the United Irishmen 6

M. Elliott, Partners in Revolution: The United Irishmen and France (New Haven, 1982).

and on a definitive account of Wolfe Tone. 7

6

7

M. Elliott, Theobald Wolfe Tone: Prophet of Irish Independence (New Haven, 1989).

She plausibly depicts the United Irishmen as early individualist liberals influenced by the Enlightenment and a radical reading of Locke but fearful of popular social upheaval. However, the broader examination of the evolution of Irish political thought has not been her main goal. Similarly end p.3

Jim Smyth’s The Men of No Property recognizes the importance of political ideas (giving a more socially radical and populist reading of the United Irishmen) but concentrates on popular politicization and the relationship between the United Irishmen and the Defenders. 8

8

J. Smyth, The Men of No Property: Irish Radicals and Popular Politicsinthe Late Eighteenth Century (Dublin, 1992).

Nancy Curtin’s main work includes a good chapter on the ideology of the United Irishmen which broadly agrees with Elliott. She sees them as bourgeois liberals influenced by classical republicanism, natural rights, and a faith in education, with little interest in social equality. As a result, they were, she argues, reluctant converts to republican revolution. This book generally concurs with Curtin’s view, but as her main focus is the activity, organization, and development of the United Irishmen, her treatment of ideological issues does not fully explore the origins, evolution, and complexity of their language and argument. Of course, this is not Curtin’s primary goal, and she acknowledges that Little has been done to explore the sources of the nationalism and republicanism which all agree that the United Irishmen espoused, but which few have bothered to trace. Indeed, United Irish republicanism is equated simply—and wrongly—with a desire for total separation from Britain. In general, there has been little effort to place these republicans within a cultural and intellectual tradition; the prevailing tendency, on the contrary, has been to regard them as having emerged, sui generis , from the storming of the Bastille in 1789, the example of which provided an irresistible stimulus to the revival of Ireland’s dormant reform movement.

9

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Political Thought in Ireland 1776-1798 ,Republicanism, Patriotism, and Radicalism Small, Stephen Print publication date: 2002, Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: January 2010 Print ISBN-13: 978-0-19-925779-9, doi:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199257799.001.0001 9

Curtin, The United Irishmen , 5.

Until recently, few Irish historians working on this period were interested in the history of Irish political thought in its own right. This neglect has prompted the editors of a collection of essays on Irish political thought (in many ways the first of its kind) to declare that ‘the history of political ideas in Ireland is largely unwritten’. 10

10

D. G. Boyce, R. Eccleshall, and V. Geoghegan (eds.), Political Thought in Ireland since the Seventeenth Century (London, 1993), 1.

There are some noteworthy exceptions to this observation, and interest has been increasing. 11

The most notable example is S. J. Connolly (ed.), Political Ideas in Eighteenth-Century Ireland (Dublin, 2000).

The depth and consistency of Tone’s republicanism and separatism have been analysed. 12

11

12

See Elliott, Wolfe Tone, 84–6, 126–30,167–9, 268–71, and 392–5; T. Bartlett, Theobald Wolfe Tone (Dublin, 1997), and ’The Burden of the Present: Theobald

Wolfe Tone, Repub lican and Separatist’, in D. Dickson, D. Keogh, and K. Whelan (eds.), The United Irishmen: Republicanism, Radicalism and Rebellion (Dublin, 1993), 1–15. See also T. Dunne, Theobald Wolfe Tone: Colonial Outsider (Cork, 1982).

The recent contributions of Joep Leerssen and Jackie Hill have been end p.4

important in stressing the Whiggish, Protestant, and corporatist elements in Irish Patriotism. 13

13

See J. Leerssen, ‘Anglo-Irish Patriotism and its European Context: Notes towards a re assessment’, ECI 3 (1988), 7–24; and J. Hill, From Patriots to

Unionists: Dublin Civic Politics and Irish Protestant Patriotism, 1660–1840 (Oxford, 1997).

And the influence of Scottish Enlightenment thinking on Ulster Presbyterian radicalism has begun to be explored. 14

14

See Stewart, A Deeper Silence; and I. McBride, ‘The School of Virtue: Francis Hutcheson, Irish Presbyterians and the Scottish Enlightenment’, in Boyce,

Eccleshall, and Geoghegan (eds.), Political Thought in Ireland , 73–99. See also McBride’s ‘William Drennan and the Dissenting Tradition’, in Dickson, Keogh, and Whelan (eds.), The United Irishmen: Republicanism, Radicalism and Rebellion , 49–61.

But there has been no detailed examination of the transmission and development of Irish patriot and republican thought in the late eighteenth century, nor a general synthesis of Irish political thought in this period since McDowell’s comprehensive but dated Irish Public Opinion, 1750-18OO written in 1944. 15

15

R. B. McDowell, Irish Public Opinion, 1750–1800 (London, 1944).

Since the late 1950s, the work of J. G. A. Pocock, Quentin Skinner, and many others has revolutionized the way we think about the history of political thought. 16

16

The seminal work is J. G. A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment: Florentine Political Thought and the Atlantic Republican Tradition (Princeton, 1975), but

see also his Virtue, Com merce and History: Essays on Political Thought and History, Chiefly in the Eighteenth Century

(Cambridge, 1985). Q. Skinner’s

ground-breaking work is The Foundations of Modern Political Thought (2 vols., Cambridge, 1978). See also his ‘The Republican Ideal of Political Liberty’, in G. Bock, Q. Skinner, and M. Viroli (eds.), Machiavelli and Republicanism (Cambridge, 1990), 293–309. D. R. Woolf, ‘The Writing of Early Modern European Intellectual History, 1945–1995’, in M. Bentley (ed.), Companion to Historiography (London, 1997), 316–20, pro vides a good, brief overview of these developments.

Their work has had such important consequences for the history of republicanism (and the related concepts of patriotism and radicalism) that it requires a thorough re-examination of eighteenth-century Irish political language in its Atlantic, European, and British context. The use of classical republicanism as a language to explain early modern political discourse has provoked a wide-ranging debate about the role of republican ideas and their eighteenth-century importance. The ideological origins of the American Revolution, in particular, have been reexamined in the light of these models, inspiring a lively debate over the relative importance of possessive individualist/natural rights models versus classical republican interpretations. 17

17

See B. Bailyn, The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution (Cambridge, Mass., 1967); and G. S. Wood, The Creation of the American Republic,

1776–1787 (New York, 1972) for the republican synthesis. R. Shalhope, ‘Republicanism and Early American Historiog raphy’, William and Mary Quarterly , 39 (1982), 334–56

, reviews the debate broadly in sym pathy with the republican perspective. I. Kramnick, ‘Republican Revisionism Revisited’, AHR

87: 3 (1982), 629–64, does so critically. See also J. G. A. Pocock, ‘1776: The Revolution against Parliament’, in J. G. A. Pocock (ed.), Three British Revolutions: 1641, 1688, 1776 (Princeton, 1980), 265–88.

This debate has enriched such key end p.5



eighteenth-century concepts as liberty, virtue, vice, corruption, self-interest, the public good, commerce, luxury, balanced government, popular sovereignty, and the English constitution. The debate continues, 18

See P. Pettit, Republicanism: A Theory of Freedom and Government

18

(Oxford, 1997) and Q. Skinner, Liberty before Liberalism (Cambridge, 1998) for two

important discussions of the republican thesis. M. Philp critically assesses the relevance of the classical republican model in ‘English Republicanism in the 1790s’, Journal of Political philosophy , 6 (1998), 1–28. S. Pincus emphasizes the significance of commerce for English republicans in ‘Neither Machiavellian Moment nor Possessive Individualism: Commercial Society and the Defenders of the English Commonwealth’, AHR 103 :3 (June 1998), 677–704.

yet it is only relatively recently that the implications of this work have been felt in Irish historiography. While Marianne Elliott’s Partners in Revolution (1982) reawakened interest in the origins of Irish republicanism, there has been no systematic attempt to apply the new history of ideas to Irish political thought in the crucial last quarter of the eighteenth century. This book hopes to remedy this situation by tracing the use and development of the most influential political languages used in Ireland over this period. In doing so it inevitably reassesses the nature of early Irish republicanism. The traditional assertion that the United Irishmen were the first Irish republicans in the modern sense of physical-force separatist nationalism does not sit easily with their most recent ideological portraits. The reclamation of the United Irishmen for the eighteenth century shows that the origins of 1790s Irish republicanism lie in the seventeenth-century classical republican tradition and in the real Whig ideas of the early eighteenth-century Commonwealthmen. 19

19

C. Robbins recounts the Irish dimension of Real Whig thought in The Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman: Studies in the Transmission, Development,

and Circumstances of English Liberal Thought from the Restoration of Charles II until the War with the Thirteen Colonies (Cambridge, Mass., 1959), 134–76. Stewart in A Deeper Silence and McBride in ‘William Drennan and the Dissenting Tradition’ have traced the connections between Real Whiggism, Ulster Dissent, and the United Irishmen.

Firmly replaced in their own era, the United Irishmen have been identified as rational, Whiggish, universalist children of the Enlightenment, inspired by the French Revolution and by Paine’s radical interpretation of natural rights. 20

20

See Curtin, The United Irishmen , 13–37; and Elliott, Partners in Revolution, 3–34.

These insights have serious implications for our understanding of the United Irishmen and Irish republicanism more generally. First, they imply that the evolution of Irish republicanism can only be fully understood by recognizing the elusive, complex, and diverse nature of republicanism in the eighteenth century. Second, by reconnecting United Irish ideology to its eighteenth-century roots, they weaken the intellectual links between the United Irishmen and later nationalist republicans. Third, by recovering an earlier, less familiar, Irish ‘republican’ tradition the assumption that the end p.6

United Irishmen were the first Irish republicans suddenly becomes problematic. The question now becomes, what kind of republicans were they, and how do they relate to the ancient and eclectic republican tradition described by Robbins, Pocock, and Skinner. It is this question, among others, that this book attempts to answer.

II . A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF METHODOLOGY As indicated above, the book analyses political languages to understand eighteenth-century political mentalités. Such an approach raises methodological questions. What exactly are these political languages? How do we identify them as distinct and coherent entities? Why introduce this further conceptual tier of language to a discussion of patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism. And, perhaps most importantly, how does this theoretical structure help us understand late eighteenth-century Ireland? This approach to the history of political thought broadly follows that of J. G. A. Pocock, and as he points out, it is more accurately described as the history of political discourse for it necessarily studies debates and utterances rather than consciousness. 21

21

Pocock, ‘The Concept of a Language and the métier d’historien’ .

Pocock’s basic model is one oflangue and parole — in other words, of identifiable political ‘languages’ and the utterances which use these languages and act upon them. The historian must identify consistent sets of commonly used rhetorical styles (or ways of talking about politics), making sure that these structures are distinct languages with an objective status (and not simply the creation of the historian or the individual style of a single writer). Pocock suggests a number of criteria, which can be reduced to three main tests: (a) showing that the language was used by a number of different authors; (b) showing that the responses of its users to political events, and the problems they face in using it, can be predicted; and, ideally, (c) showing that its users consciously discussed the use of the language with each other.

22



Ibid. 26–7.

Individual utterances, such as a pamphlet, are then understood in the context of these languages, which shape and even constrain the way political ideas are expressed. These utterances may combine different languages in the same text or even consciously challenge a language in an attempt to modify or reject it. For example, they may involve the appropriation of a language by an author not previously associated with it, and by putting it to unexpected uses in new circumstances he may bring out critiques previously latent or develop innovative political rhetoric. end p.7

This methodology will play a significant but submerged role. The book identifies languages, examines their rhetoric and arguments, and demonstrates their use by patriots, radicals, and republicans. It also shows how the utterances of certain agents modified these languages or revealed them to be, in certain respects, inappropriate or pernicious when applied to Irish politics. However, while useful as an organizing structure, it would be tedious and cumbersome to relate every argument or idea to a ‘language’ once these have been laid down. Furthermore, the diverse and eclectic arguments revealed in the primary sources may not always fit neatly into these ‘languages’, and this complexity should not be sacrificed for a spurious coherence in the overall argument. Late eighteenth-century political writing was often messy and this should not be disguised. Most importantly, the methodology is primarily a means to an end, for while Irish political language is interesting in its own right, mentalités are ultimately of more interest. 23

By mentalitéI mean a shared belief system which motivates political action.

Pocock rightly insists that ‘thought must be uttered in order to have a history’, 24

23

24

Pocock, ‘The Concept of a Language and the métier d’historien’ , 20.

and this necessitates a history of discourse based on primary texts. But in this book, the history of language is primarily a useful tool for examining political mentalités. This ultimate goal poses questions of the methodology. Why focus on these somewhat complex ‘languages’ rather than on straightforward ideas or argument? Or, to phrase the question differently, how are these languages helping us understand the thoughts of late eighteenthcentury Irishmen? First, as we have already noted, we have no direct access to mental states and can only study mentalités through written language and the interpretation of action. Second, this approach does not exclude discussion of ideas and argument. On the contrary, ideas and argument expressed in familiar ways provide the substance of a political language, and much of the discussion that follows will use terms such as ‘ideas’, ‘argument’, and ‘thought’ in a straightforward way. However, the concept of a ‘language’ is a useful tool because it is broader and richer. It includes imagery, style, and historical references. It also places ideas and arguments firmly in a historical context and encourages us to understand them as responses to contemporary debates and concerns rather than ahistorical concepts. Such an approach offers a better chance of recovering an author’s intentions and of understanding how his utterances would have been understood by contemporaries. We need to be careful about the claims made for these languages. They can be seen merely as expressions of political mentalités which help us end p.8

understand and predict action, or they can be seen as powerful paradigms which, in themselves, constrain and direct action and thought. In general, the weaker claim is more sustainable. Political languages are a means of understanding mentalités in a detailed and historically sensitive way. They help us understand how people analysed and reacted to political events, without claiming that the languages themselves cause these responses. However, the stronger claim does sometimes apply. These languages could occasionally dictate behaviour (for example classical republican language helped to construct the actions as well as the rhetoric of the Volunteers). 25

25

See ch. 3.

Authors, it seems, were sometimes forced into certain actions by the logic and repetition of their arguments. Such influence will always be difficult to prove, however, and we must be sceptical about the extent to which language can constrain or push when other pressures are at work. Fear, pride, honour, comradeship, self-interest, and political passions of many sorts were also powerful influences. In many instances, agents may have been pushed in one direction by their language and in another by more visceral impulses—some of them a good deal more powerful than the desire to act consistently with their rhetoric. This scepticism alerts us to a ‘gap’ between language and mentalité. We can never have direct access to mentalité and we can never be sure that it corresponds with the language used. This is especially problematic in a climate of repression like the 1790s when the expression of radical and republican views was dangerous. But authorial intention and underlying mentalité can always diverge significantly



—especially if the text is primarily a piece of propaganda. At times pamphleteers may have said one thing and believed another. Indeed, the more sophisticated and polemical the author the more likely they are to use language, perhaps quite cynically, to elicit the response required—a tactic which intensified in periods of conflict when polemicists sought gut responses rather than logical persuasion. But we should not reject the analysis of language, for such usage still shows that there were recognizable and effective rhetorical structures which would have a predictable impact on the audience even if the author did not believe in them himself. 26

26

See Q. Skinner, ‘The Principles and Practice of Opposition: The Case of Bolingbroke versus Walpole’, in N. McKendrick (ed.), Historical Perspectives,

Studies in English Thought and Society in Honour of J. H. Plumb (London, 1974), 93–128. Skinner shows how Bolingbroke used criticism of standing armies, places, and pensions to push Patriotic buttons in order to overcome widely held objections to ongoing ‘general opposition’ to the king’s government. As well as legitimizing his opposition, this tactic had the added benefit of embarrassing the Whig junto with impeccably Whig arguments.

Hence an analysis of languages sheds light on the end p.9

author’s intentions and on collective mentalités if not on his own. Furthermore, it seems safe to assume that most people meant what they said most of the time, especially when they exposed themselves to criticism and danger for no personal gain—as many radicals and republicans did in the 178osand 1790s. How, then, does this methodology help us understand late eighteenth-century Ireland? Essentially it provides a means for unpacking the labels ‘patriot’, ‘radical’, and ‘republican’: terms often used in very straightforward ways which disguise the diverse and shifting political rhetoric of late eighteenth-century Ireland. These three labels are useful for categorizing individual and collective responses to events (whether rhetorical or physical) but they do not reveal the rich texture of debate, or the changes in this debate over time. Analysis of political languages and utterances, based on a close examination of the primary sources, can provide a much richer context for understanding political mentalités. By showing how these languages were deployed, developed, and abandoned as the period progressed, we can create a more revealing and dynamic narrative of ideological change-a narrative which can accommodate the contradictions of radicalism and republicanism, and which can show that these were an understandable but not straightforward development of patriotism.

III . SOURCES AND AUDIENCES Given that political disputants, theorists, and propagandists saw pamphlets as the chief medium of serious, public political debate, the identification of these political languages comes from an examination of around 350 Irish pamphlets, 27

27

This sample probably amounts to over half of the relevant political pamphlets produced in Ireland in this period. The main collections of Irish pamphlets used

were those in the British Library, the Royal Irish Academy, and the National Library of Ireland. But significant use was also made of collections in Trinity College Dublin, Queen’s University Belfast, the Bodleian, and Marsh’s Library in Dublin.

and from a comparison of their content with previously identified eighteenth-century languages. 28

28

In this respect the book follows and draws upon H. T. Dickinson, Liberty and Property: Political Ideology in Eighteenth-Century Britain (London, 1977), the

best general survey of eighteenth-century British political thought. The work of Bernard Bailyn and Gordon Wood has also helped to inform these categories.

Newspapers, which were important in the transmission and popularization of ideas via serializations of works such as Paine’s Rights of Man, provide another source. Especially useful are the radical papers of the middle and later 1790s (notably the Northern Star and the Press), as censorship and fear of prosecution disrupted the normal mechanisms of pamphlet production. For this reason a end p.10

limited number of newspapers (far from immune from censorship themselves) have been looked at to supplement the pamphlet literature. Printed sermons, parliamentary debates, letters, plays, songs, and poems have also been used to shed light on the expression of political language and to add colour to political debates. But their use has been selective, for it is rarely the case that ideas expressed in these other sources cannot be found in more coherent form in pamphlets. 29

29

A possible exception is the Defender and United Irish propaganda aimed at the lower classes in the late 1790s. The crudest expressions of popular

republicanism are perhaps best found in ballads and handbills.

The audience for these pamphlets varied widely from a handful of friends and associates of the author to many thousands of the increasingly politicized middle class (and even the lower classes by the 1790s). Price alone kept many pamphlets from the middling and lower sorts—often deliberately so. Some were priced as high as three shillings to target only those readers deemed capable of rational deliberation. Others were subsidized and sold for as little as a penny in a conscious attempt to reach a popular audience—most notably



Paine’s Rights of Man . 30

30

See M. Butler (ed.), Burke, Paine, Godwin, and the Revolution Controversy (Cambridge, 1984), 5; and J. R. R. Adams, The Printed Word and the Common

Man: Popular Culture in Ulster 1700–1900 (Belfast, 1987), 85.

But these were exceptions. A typical price for a pamphlet was between six pence and a shilling. Most pamphlets were printed in Dublin, with much smaller but significant numbers printed in Belfast and a smattering coming from a few other large towns like Cork. 31

31

An analysis of the place of publication (where it exists) of the Irish pamphlets used in this study reveals that 250 came from Dublin and only 14 from Belfast.

These numbers may be skewed by greater use of archives in Dublin and London than Belfast, but they are probably a reasonably accurate indication of where pamphlets were being published.

We can tentatively infer from content, price, and place of production that most pamphlet readers were either part of the Dublin political elite; large landowners who also participated in Dublin public life; or clergymen, urban professionals, and merchants from Dublin, Belfast, or other towns with connections to them. The popularization of Irish politics in the 1790s undoubtedly expanded this audience—at least for certain pamphlets. But it is these groups who largely formed the civil society that expressed and listened to the languages explored below.

IV . THE STRUCTURE OF THE BOOK The book has seven chapters. Chapter 1 gives a summary of the five key languages of Protestant superiority, ancient constitutionalism, commercial grievance, classical republicanism, and natural rights. It then defines end p.11

republicanism, patriotism, and radicalism before describing their Irish roots before 1776. Chapter 2 is an examination of the political languages used by patriots from the start of the American Revolution to their victories over free trade. It assesses the influence of the Revolution on Irish political thought and pays particular attention to the impact of commercial grievances and ancient constitutionalism on patriot rhetoric. Chapter 3 examines the vital role of classical republican ideas and language in patriot and early radical thought, and analyses the rhetorical construction of the Volunteers as classical heroes embodying civic virtue. Chapter 4 examines the emergence of the movement for radical parliamentary reform from Patriotism, describes the various political languages and arguments used by early radical reformers between 1783 and 1785, and analyses the tensions between classical republicanism, Protestant superiority, and natural rights. These tensions reflected competing definitions of ‘the people’ and fundamental doubts over popular sovereignty caused by deep-seated Protestant concerns over Catholic rationality, virtue, and capacity for liberty. Chapter 5 charts developments in Patriotism and radical reform between 1787 and 1791. It argues that the emergence of Protestant Ascendancy as a conceptual reaction to the Tithe Dispute, the assertion of Irish rights in the Regency crisis, and the renewal of reform activity by the Irish Whigs in 1790 all had important consequences for the emergence of 1790s radicalism. Protestant Ascendancy, by creating a pre-Burkean reactionary stereotype of radical reformers and their allies, was especially important in shaping the environment within which radicals would operate. Chapter 6 examines the effects on patriotism and radicalism of the increasing influence of the French Revolution and the emergence of the United Irishmen. It shows how the tensions in Irish patriotism between its classical republican inheritance and its radical, egalitarian tendencies were stretched to breaking point by the outbreak of war with France. Finally, Chapter 7 examines the rhetoric and ideas of post-1793 radicalism and republicanism against the background of Ascendancy reaction and government repression. It argues that although the period witnessed an irrevocable schism in a previously inclusive Patriot discourse (leading to the rejection or modification of key elements of the Protestant, classical republican, and ancient constitutional traditions) many of the older Patriot ideas continued to carry weight among the majority of Irish radicals and republicans. end p.12



1 The Origins of Irish Republicanism, Patriotism, and Radicalism Stephen Small

I . INTRODUCTION Defining eighteenth-century patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism is not straightforward. 1

1

Henceforth ‘patriotism’ refers to the general phenomenon and ‘Patriotism’ the specific Irish variety.

‘Patriotism’ is perhaps the least problematic. For it was a widely used contemporary description with a rich, if contested, set of meanings. ‘Republicanism’ is more problematic because its meaning shifted over the period and because it was less readily used as a selfdescription. Indeed, it was often disingenuously applied to Patriots and radical reformers by their opponents. But it nevertheless had powerful contemporary meanings and one sense of the term does accurately describe a set of agents in the late 1790s. ‘Radicalism’ is the most problematic, as it is not a contemporary label. More will be said about this later. Nevertheless it is a useful and valid category for those who sought a radical reform of the parliamentary system. To make full sense of all three themes we need first to take account of broader European and Atlantic traditions. Without recognizing the similarities in political languages that Ireland shared with the rest of the English-speaking and European world, we not only lose sight of the overall structure of Irish political language, we are unable fully to understand the meaning of its terms and arguments. The easy transmission of people and ideas across the Irish Sea, the sharing of a common language and political culture, and the proximity of a powerful and dominant neighbour inevitably conditioned Irish political thinking. However, if Irish political thought in the eighteenth century was based on languages and arguments common in the wider Atlantic world, it had distinct Irish dialects. Unique Irish circumstances gave rise to unique Irish responses, and the impact of dramatic international political events on Ireland inspired novel Irish applications of existing arguments. As McDowell has observed, ‘Irish thought at this time was largely a reflection of current British opinion or of the general end p.13

eighteenth century outlook. Nevertheless in some respects Irish conditions were unique. Hence when towards the end of the period, the prevalent liberalism and radicalism began to influence Irish politics, they were naturally conditioned by the complexities of the local situation.’ 2

2

McDowell, Irish Public Opinion, 5.

Indeed, because the underlying social, ethnic, economic, and religious conditions in Britain and Ireland were so different, attempts to describe and analyse Irish conditions in the languages of British political culture were fraught with difficulty. This tension, between received ‘British’ political languages and the reality of Irish conditions, inspired new political ideas—leading radicals and Patriots to restructure their languages as they recognized their inability to explain fully the problems of Irish society. One of the most meaningful ways to interpret Irish political thought, therefore, is to identify the ways in which Irishmen altered, subverted, and selected from the languages available to them to meet their own needs and to understand their own predicament. This chapter, therefore, will briefly describe the five key political languages they used, before giving definitions and historical overviews of patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism. It will then explore the history of these languages and themes in Ireland prior to the American Revolution.

Protestant Superiority The language of Protestant superiority was based on the assumption of all eighteenth-century Irish Protestants that their religion was politically inherently superior to Catholicism (an assumption so obvious to them that it barely needed articulation). It saw liberty as an essentially Protestant quality and was deeply sceptical about the suitability of Catholics as political agents. It relied on sectarian interpretations of pivotal historical events (notably the Revolution of 1688), and it criticized Catholics as slavish, superstitious, ignorant, and disloyal to the crown. As McBride points out, ‘the binary opposition around which so much political discussion turned—such as liberty/slavery or virtue/corruption-were historically, and often conceptually, linked to the master opposition of Protestantism and Popery’ .

3 3

McBride, Scripture Politics, 9.

This language, therefore, often gave a cautious character to Irish Patriotism due to fear of Catholic political revival, and when combined



with key elements in classical republicanism, it caused serious problems for would-be Protestant radicals. It was also hardly a promising basis for an inclusive Irish Patriotism (as the United Irishmen realized in the early 1790s). But end p.14

then many Protestants had no desire to be fully inclusive. Protestant Patriots, radicals, and republicans always thought Catholicism as a creed to be politically tyrannical. If they recognized that individual Catholics could become politically enlightened, this was because they were becoming less ‘Catholic’ and more like their Protestant compatriots. We should note, however, that Protestant superiority was not synonymous with the narrower (and later) concept of Protestant Ascendancy. 4

4

See Ch. 5 for a full discussion of the evolution of Protestant Ascendancy in the late 1780s.

For it reflects the assumptions of all Protestants, not just the ambitions of a conservative Anglican elite. Before the 1790s, for example, liberal Protestants who genuinely deplored many of the penal laws clearly expressed their views in a language of Protestant superiority —and they had no desire to include Catholics in the political nation. Furthermore, Dissenters often combined the language of Protestant superiority with violent anti-Ascendancy rhetoric.

Ancient Constitutionalism An ancient constitutional language not dissimilar to the Anglo-Saxonism of English radicals was often used by Irish Patriots. It claimed the fundamental right of freeborn Irishmen to a mythical and pristine medieval ‘English’ constitution embodied in the Irish parliament of King, Lords, and Commons. It drew on English common law models of political liberty, and the origin of the Irish polity was located in the donation of the English constitution to Ireland in the Middle Ages. This language had origins in the medieval Modus Tenendi Parliamentum, but it was essentially a seventeenth-century creation—drawing on Irish parliamentary debates, the writings of the Old English constitutional theorist Patrick Darcy, and Sir William Domville’s Disquisitions. 5

5

S. J. Connolly, ‘Precedent and Principle: The Patriots and their Critics’, in S. J. Connolly (ed.), Political Ideas in Eighteenth-Century Ireland (Dublin, 2000),

130–58.

The classic expression is Molyneux’s The Case of Ireland’s Being Bound by Acts of Parliament in England, Stated

(1698), which used

historical and legal precedent to dispute the claims of the English parliament to control the affairs of Ireland. The language was most powerfully applied to Anglo-Irish constitutional disputes, but it also contributed to radical rhetoric concerning parliamentary reform. Its basic premiss was that those of English blood should not lose their rights as freeborn Englishmen simply by crossing the Irish Sea. Typically it stressed that Ireland had never been conquered. Its kings had voluntarily submitted to Henry II in the twelfth century and in doing so they rightfully received the rights and laws of England as a separate nation. end p.15

A compact between ruler and people not only established an English constitution in Ireland, it also proved that only the English king and not the English parliament had a say in governing Ireland. This independence from the English parliament was confirmed when Ireland received its own Magna Charta in 1216 and its own parliament in 1297. Thus Ireland was not a colony like Virginia, but a separate kingdom with its own parliament. Through this parliament, so the myth went, Ireland had governed its affairs as a separate nation since 1297 until the Tudor and Stuart monarchs began to ride roughshod over its constitutional rights—especially with regard to trade and commerce in the late seventeenth century. This language was fundamentally unstable as a basis for Irish Patriotism, however. For if Irish rights lay in English blood, how could they form a foundation for ‘Irish’ identity and independence? At best the language provided an exclusive basis for Irish Patriotism that was unlikely to appeal to the growing body of separatist republicans in the 1790s, and although it was extremely important for the formation of 1770s Patriotism, it could only be carried over into 1790s republicanism with great difficulty. By the 1790s it was far less common for Protestant radicals to claim their birthrights on the basis of ‘English’ blood, but the sheer volume of this type of historical and legal debate (which outweighed all other forms of political argument in the 1770s and 1780s) had left its mark on their rhetoric.

Commercial Grievances Patriots used a powerful language of commercial grievance to assert Irish trading rights and to challenge British political control. The language encompassed self-critical explanations of Ireland’s poverty and was informed by an introspective concern with agricultural improvement, consumption, absenteeism, and unemployment stretching back to Moles worth, Berkeley, and Swift.

6



See P. Kelly, ‘The Politics of Political Economy in Mid-Eighteenth Century Ireland’, in Connolly (ed.), Political Ideas in Eighteenth-Century Ireland , 105–29, for

a discussion of Irish writing on commerce, currency, consumption, luxury, agriculture, and absenteeism in the late 1720s and 1730s. Such writing naturally informed patriotism in its broadest sense, for it ‘testifies to a lively concern with Ireland’s economic predicament, reinforced by almost universal claims to be motivated by love of country and a sense of duty to fellow countrymen’ (p. 107).

But it also had an increasingly critical attitude to British restrictions on Irish trade and Ireland’s subordinate trading position. By the 1770s, the restrictions placed on Irish commerce by the Navigation, Cattle and Woollen Acts had become this language’s main concern. 7

7

The Navigation Acts of 1663 and 1671 (15 Car. 2, c. 7, and 22 & 23 Car. 2, c. 26) prevented the direct import and export of most Irish goods to and from the

colonies. The Cattle Act of 1667 (18 Car. 2, c. 23) excluded cattle, sheep, beef, pork, and bacon from the English

These impelled end p.16

all Patriots to take up the cause of free trade. Indeed the issue became an icon of Patriotism and the main platform of the early Volunteer movement. Annoyance at British control of Irish trade led to an increasingly intense vocabulary of grievance and injured national pride, which in turn led to a general reappraisal of Irish political rights and even encouraged flirtations with separatism. This language was partly an offshoot of the overarching eighteenth-century preoccupation with the role of commerce and property in civil society, although the common concerns about luxury and the compatibility of private interest and public virtue were largely (though not entirely) displaced by the more pressing Irish problem of poverty. 8

8

Irish concerns over the corrupting effects of luxury were evident earlier in the century, most notably in Berkeley’s The Querist . It seems that while luxury

corrupts, Irish-made luxuries did not corrupt absolutely, for they at least provided employment. See Kelly, ‘The Politics of Political Economy in Mid-Eighteenth Century Ireland’, 119–22 and 129.

Ironically, despite the anti-British thrust of this commercial rhetoric, most 1770s Patriots were motivated by a desire to emulate British commercial success through free trade. 9

9

While excessive luxury always provided grounds for criticism, most Irish Protestants seem to have happily shared in the general rise in consumerism that

occurred throughout the British Empire in the eighteenth century. For an account of Irish consumption and its social meaning, see T. Barnard, ‘Integration or Separation? Hospitality and Display in Protestant Ireland, 1660–1800’, in D. Eastwood and L. Brockliss (eds.), A Union of Multiple Identities: The British Isles, C.1750-C.1850 (Manchester, 1997).

By 1779 Patriots were beginning to draw on the work of Adam Smith, and few doubted that trade and commerce were vital to the long-term protection of Irish liberty. Commercial issues not only provided the foundation of 1770s Irish Patriotism, they remained important to all Irish Patriots up to 1798 and beyond.

Natural Rights John Locke’s theories on natural rights and the social contract were common currency in Ireland throughout the eighteenth century, but the way they were used and the strength of their influence changed over time. The language of natural rights, as applied to nations, was always part of a powerful Patriot critique of English control in Ireland. These theories were sometimes used on their own to found a basis for Irish rights from first principles, but they were more often used in conjunction with classical republican, commercial, and ancient constitutionalist arguments. This practice can be traced back to Molyneux, whose extensive use of Lockean end p.17

arguments alongside ancient constitutional ones helped to establish a genre of Irish political writing that switched with ease between these very different languages. However, the idea that man, simply by virtue of his God-given humanity, possessed inalienable rights to life, liberty, property, and political power—and that government was constituted for the purpose of preserving these rights—only became widely expressed at the end of the eighteenth century. Indeed, the language played a surprisingly constrained role in the Patriots’ understanding of domestic politics before the 1790s. In the early 1780s, the most radical Patriots did use natural rights to justify parliamentary reform and a widening of the franchise. But the idea that all men possessed inalienable rights to political power (or at least representation) was an uncomfortable one for most Protestant Patriots. The right to representation (and the right to resist tyranny when this was not forthcoming) did become central to 1790s republicanism. But this was as much to do with Paine’s Rights of Man as Locke. Before Paine, when natural rights came into conflict with Protestant superiority and classical republicanism they were usually quietly dropped.



Classical Republicanism The language of virtue, liberty, corruption, balanced government, tyranny, vigilance, citizen militias, and public spirit was a much-tapped source of Irish political rhetoric in this period. A full description of this classical republicanism is given in the course of the next section. But there are a few points to be made here. Irishmen used a classical republican language almost identical to that used in Britain and America, but with significant differences in emphasis. The major divergence from British usage was the rich classical republican imagery warning of foreign domination. In Ireland, public virtue was needed to protect both internal liberty from corruption and tyranny, and national liberty from foreign influence or invasion. This made classical republicanism the ideal public language of the Volunteers and the United Irishmen. The classical republican obsession with citizen militias and public virtue was crucial to the vocabulary of Volunteering and formed a vital component in the justification for the modern physical force nationalist tradition. However, while highly influential, the classical republican emphasis on the capacity of citizens for liberty and virtue caused serious problems for Protestant theorists in a predominantly Catholic country. end p.18

II . REPUBLICANISM There were few self-confessed anti-monarchical republicans in eighteenth-century Ireland until the late 1790s, and even then most radicals and Patriots were reluctant to label themselves such. But a wide variety of eighteenth-century Irishmen used arguments that can be labelled ‘republican’ in a ‘classical’ sense. Hence, while not wishing to find republicans where they did not exist, republican ideas could, and did, inhabit minds which simultaneously held a wide variety of both complementary and contradictory political ideas. Recognizing this allows us a subtler view of Irish republicanism during this period: one which places it in a melting pot of ideas and rhetoric and which acknowledges the changing nature of republicanism as a concept. The term ‘republican’ has been used to label some very different political positions. The Latin origin of the word, ‘res publica’ , should alert us to this variety by its neutrality: it simply means ‘affairs (or things) of the public’. 10

10

The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary on Historical Principles (Oxford, 1993).

In classical times the term was sometimes used as a general name for the state, although it was usually associated with free states, and with the constitutional and motivational characteristics required to keep them free. By the eighteenth century Samuel Johnson identified three distinct themes in his definitions of ‘republic’ and its derivations: sovereignty is located in the public, power is held by a plurality of sources, and the state is a Commonwealth without monarchy. 11

11

Samuel Johnson, A Dictionary of the English Language , ed. R. W. Burchfield (London, 1979).

However, this last theme was often ignored by those who nevertheless believed in the first two (i.e. a balance or ‘plurality’ of powers and some form of popular sovereignty). Limited and accountable monarchy, as opposed to tyranny, was perfectly acceptable to most ‘classical’ republicans (or Commonwealthmen as they were sometimes known in the eighteenth century). This classical republican tradition had its origins in the political language and perceived practice of the Greeks and Romans: in the writings of Plato, Aristotle, Polybius, Livy, Sallust, Tacitus, Seneca, and Cicero, and in the example of Athens, Sparta, and republican Rome. As we have noted, despite opposition to purely monarchical states, this tradition was not necessarily hostile to monarchy as part of a balanced government. Indeed the Polybian idea that a balance between monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy could prevent the cyclical degeneration from one form of end p.19

government to another was extremely influential. 12

12

Polybius, The Histories, vi, chs. 3–14, in The Histories, tr. W. R. Paton (6 vols., London, 1923), iii. 271–303. See also Machiavelli’s version of the theory in

The Discourses, ed. B. Crick (Harmondsworth, 1970), 1, ch. 2, 104–11.

Hence, as long as the monarchy was limited and balanced with the other orders, even the British constitution could be said to exhibit a republican nature. Cato’s Letters, for example, explicitly identify Britain as a republic of that peculiarly happy kind which has a king as its chief magistrate. 13

13

John Trenchard and Thomas Gordon, Cato’s Letters; or, Essays on Liberty, Civil and Religious, and Other Important Subjects

(3rd edn., 4 vols., London,

1723), ii. 28. Quoted in Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment , 468.

To many classical republicans, the constitution had become corrupted by executive dominance and thrown out of balance, but the English structure of King, Lords, and Commons could still be fitted into the classical mixed constitution of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy.



This notion of a republican who accepts limited monarchy is, on the surface, a paradoxical one. Its potential for confusion has even contributed to Quentin Skinner’s recent rejection of ‘the republican theory of liberty’ in favour of ‘the neo-Roman theory of liberty’. 14

14

Q. Skinner, Liberty before Liberalism (Cambridge, 1998), 1–57.

For Skinner, the chief characteristic of the tradition in question is not its opposition to monarchy, but its commitment to a conception of liberty that rejects arbitrary power and supports the rule of law. This commitment, while closely connected to anti-monarchical republicanism, was much wider. Thus, while there were many real Whigs and Commonwealthmen who adhered to this theory of liberty, only a few of them repudiated monarchy. (Skinner points out that key figures in the classical republican tradition, such as Sidney and Neville, accepted limited monarchy.) ‘Classical republicanism’ is still the widely accepted terminology for this style of early modern political thought and Skinner does not overtly seek to replace it. However, his argument that liberty was more important to most seventeenth- and eighteenth-century classical republicans than the removal of the monarchy is undoubtedly warranted. In a similar vein, Pettit sees a belief in liberty as ‘non-domination’ as the key to republicanism. He defines this kind of freedom as ‘the social status of being relatively proof against arbitrary interference by others, and of being able to enjoy a sense of security and standing among them’. This view is certainly in keeping with the mentalité of late eighteenth-century Irish republicans. 15

15

Pettit, Republicanism, vii.

Also key to the classical republican model was civic virtue. This has two distinct elements. First, there is the Aristotelian idea that humans attain end p.20

excellence by participating in rational, political decision-making along with other citizens. As ‘political animals’, citizens should have ‘the right of sharing in deliberative or judicial office’, 16

16

Aristotle, The Politics, in, i, 12, in The Politics of Aristotle , ed. E. Barker (Oxford, 1948), 95.

as well as ‘the knowledge and the capacity requisite for ruling as well as for being ruled’. 17

17

Ibid., m, iv, 15(105).

Here, civic virtue is important because its exercise leads to eudaimonia (‘well-being’) and hence the good life. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly for the Com-monwealthmen, civic virtue is necessary to prevent a corruption of the state. Civic virtue ensures that the citizen is prepared to protect the body politic from tyrannous princes, mob rule, oligarchy, or foreign control in order to preserve its liberties. Central to this mechanism is perseverance in the cause of freedom. As Pettit reminds us, ‘the price of liberty is eternal vigilance’. 18

18

Pettit, Republicanism, 6.

However, a note of caution is needed here. This classical republican tradition was far from monolithic. Indeed Wifried Nippel, an ancient historian, claims not to recognize ‘ancient republicanism’ as a category—implying that the label ‘classical republicanism’ is a retrospective simplification of a diverse and broad tradition of ancient political theory rather than a distinct political theory in itself. 19

19

W. Nippel, ‘Ancient and Modern Republicanism: “mixed constitution” and “ephors”’, in B. Fontana (ed.), The Invention of the Modern Republic (Cambridge,

1994), 6–26.

This is not to say that early modern Europeans did not rely heavily on classical arguments, but that they chose from a wide range of them to serve their own purposes. Thus classical republicanism should not be seen as the adoption of a coherent and identifiable classical theory, but rather as an early modern construct drawn from a rich resource of classical language and ideas. Concepts which were often unconnected in classical times (such as active citizenship and the Polybian idea of mixed constitution) were, Nippel argues, yoked together by Machiavelli and seventeenth-century Englishmen, only to be identified, somewhat misleadingly, as ‘classical republicanism’ by Pocock and other twentieth-century historians. 20

20

Ibid. 7.

Nippel’s critique does not invalidate the use of classical republicanism as a structure of language and theory that influenced eighteenthcentury Irishmen. That it was largely an Italian Renaissance and seventeenth-century English rehash of classical ideas does not make it any less real or powerful. But his account allows us to see that the language was shaped by concerns closer to eighteenth-century Ireland (both geographically and end p.21

temporally) than the model of a coherent classical tradition would suggest. And this, in turn, alerts us to the fact that eighteenth-century PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


writers were just as liable to ransack classical rhetoric themselves, taking a linguistic Grand Tour from the comfort of their studies (a less destructive but often similarly haphazard activity). Thus classical republicanism was in one sense a very real and living language which could always be replenished and reinterpreted through selective rereading of the classics. It will be used in this broad sense here. The transmission and development of classical ideas via Renaissance and English republican theorists was crucial, therefore, for the form that this construct took in the eighteenth century. The concept of civic virtue, for example, was transformed by Machiavelli who attached it to the possession of arms, 21

21

Machiavelli, Discourses, I, chs. 5 and 43; and II, chs. 1 and 2 (ed. Crick, 115–18, 218, and 270–81).

and later by James Harrington, who emphasized the defensive role of the armed, independent landowner in maintaining the balanced constitution. ‘The tillage, bringing up a good soldiery, bringeth up a good Commonwealth,’ argued Harrington, ‘for where the owner of the plough comes to have the sword too, he will use it in defence of his own.’ For this reason, ‘the people of Oceana, in proportion to their property, have always been free’. 22

22

The Commonwealth of Oceana (1656),in The Political Works of James Harrington , ed. J. G. A. Pocock (Cambridge, 1977), 158.

Republics had usually been fragile states, and independent property and the right to bear arms became their protection against a descent into tyranny. It is not surprising, therefore, that classical republicans emphasized the role of independent citizen militias and despised the idea of a professional standing army. Such armies could be used by a tyrant against his own people, were pusillanimous when faced with external threats to liberty, and required heavy taxation to maintain them. Harrington’s connection between martial virtue and property had important consequences. It gave rise to an ideal of public-spirited, virtuous, and independent citizens striving to maintain liberty through the proper balance of powers in the state—an ideal which formed the heart of the British seventeenth-century republican tradition. But it also encouraged strict property-based criteria for political participation and a belief in a hierarchy of political function or citizenship in the people. The intellectual tradition outlined above was transmitted from Harrington and Milton (who wrote during Cromwell’s Protectorate—a concrete example of a fragile republic), via Sidney and Neville to important Irish real Whigs of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, such as John end p.22

Toland and Robert Molesworth. 23

23

For a brief but detailed account of this tradition and its transmission from Machiavelli to Bolingbroke, see Skinner, ‘The Principles and Practice of Opposition:

The Case of Boling- broke versus Walpole’, 113–24. See Robbins, The Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman, for a full examination of these ideas in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. For an overview of Toland, see P. McGuinness, ‘John Toland and Eighteenth-Century Irish Repub licanism’, Irish Studies Review , 19 (Summer 1997), 15–21.

The Anglo-Irishman Molesworth was a typical classical republican. With land near Dublin and in Yorkshire, he sat in both parliaments and straddled the political worlds of Britain and Ireland. His political acquaintances ranged from William Molyneux, to the radical Irish pantheist and bête noire of the clergy, John Toland, to such stern defenders of the Established Church as William King and Swift. A full-blown classical republican, with universalist tendencies, he was an important focus for the development and transmission of liberal ideas, and his home at Swords, near Dublin, became a meeting place for a whole generation of radical thinkers. Robbins identifies Molesworth as a pivotal eighteenth-century Commonwealthman, 24

24

Robbins, The Eighteenth-Century Commonwealthman, 88–115.

linking the intellectual tradition of the English Civil War republicans with the radicals and revolutionaries of late eighteenth-century Britain, Ireland, and America. His two main works, the Account of Denmark (1693) and the Preface to his translation of Hotman’s Franco-Gallia, gave him a position of eminence among Commonwealthmen and republicans. These are cautionary tales of the corruption and degeneration of ancient or gothic constitutions in other European countries, namely Denmark and France, but they also address theoretical political issues of direct consequence to Britain and Ireland. In the Preface to the Account of Denmark Molesworth repeatedly calls on his fellow subjects in ‘these kingdoms’ to recognize and preserve their special blessing of liberty ‘at a Time, when the rest of Europe is labouring under the terrible judgements of Tyranny and the plague’. In true classical republican style he tries to inculcate the martial virtues and increase awareness of the fragility of liberty in a complacent people. He harks back to earlier times ‘when our Yeomanry and Commonalty were every Day exercised in drawing the Longbow’, and points to the degraded state of other nations who once enjoyed liberty themselves but lost it through a lack of vigilance. ‘We are the only Nation in Christendom that now call themselves Free, and have in all Ages priz’d our Freedom, before either treasure or blood.’ For Molesworth, the ‘want of Liberty is a disease in any Society or Body Politick’, and he is determined that this disease should not afflict



‘this nation’, or ‘our Commonwealth’. 25

25

Robert Molesworth, Mr. Molesworth’s Preface [to an account of Danemark as it was in the year 1692]. With Historical and Political Remarks...

(London,

1713), 2–8. The version used here is a later reprint of the 1693 edition. end p.23

From Molesworth and his friends the republican tradition was passed on to the Patriots and radicals of the late eighteenth century via Charles Lucas in Dublin and by important networks of northern Dissenters via Francis Hutcheson and the Scottish universities. 26

26

Stewart, A Deeper Silence , 81–125.

Indeed the Scottish Enlightenment provided an important link in this intellectual chain, and many Patriots drew on its rich resources. This is hardly surprising, as many Dissenters studied in Glasgow and Edinburgh, imbibing the ideas of Francis Hutcheson, David Hume, Adam Ferguson, John Millar, and Adam Smith. 27

27

McBride, Scripture Politics, 56, 89.

The attempt of these writers to make sense of modern civil society, and Scotland’s gradual transformation from economic backwardness to commercial success, involved a profound engagement with the classical republican and natural rights traditions. But this was a diverse school which offered no straightforward transmission of ideas. The Scottish philosophers often challenged the received wisdom of these two languages. Adam Ferguson analysed the martial culture of savage societies in order to reassert the importance of classical virtue and citizen militias. 28

28

Adam Ferguson, An Essay on the History of Civil Society (1767) , ed. D. Forbes (Edinburgh, 1966).

But Hume attacked key aspects of classical republicanism. For example, he had no aversion to luxury and thought that martial virtue was dangerous. Hume’s investigations into the origins and development of society also involved the rejection of the Lockean original contract, and the birth and growth of society was understood historically in terms of families, tribes, and the protection of property. The way Hume, Millar, and Smith related political institutions to economic life also influenced Irish Patriots. The Patriots’ familiarity with their work on political economy stimulated a reappraisal of the origins of their own society and its economic difficulties. (It is not entirely coincidental that Smith’s The Wealth of Nations (1776) appeared just before the Irish Patriots’ most vociferous calls for Irish commercial rights.) On the whole, Ireland’s economic improvement had been less rapid than Scotland’s, and it had not been subjected to the social changes that inspired Smith and Hume to reject classical republican reservations about commerce. Hence, Irish Patriots drew on Smith and Hume but were happy to praise commerce and martial virtue in the same breath. This classical republican tradition eventually informed radicals and republicans in the late 1790s, but as we shall see, it had to confront the very end p.24

different republicanism of Paine. Both contained ideas in common about liberty and government for the common good, but Painite republicanism completely rejected the hereditary principle and had a far greater faith in democracy, natural rights, and popular sovereignty. This egalitarian character (with its rejection of property as a basis for citizenship) fundamentally contradicted key aspects of classical republicanism. This tension (essentially a tension between natural rights and classical republicanism) had been latent in British republican thought since the late seventeenth century. Locke’s natural rights and social contract theory ran alongside Harrington’s classical republicanism. The Real Whig might see himself in classical pose exercising public virtue, but he also thought himself party to a social contract with his ruler. The king was both a power to be balanced with other elements in the state, and a chief magistrate who could, in exceptional circumstances, be usurped for breaking his contract with his subjects (Algernon Sidney’s writings are a good example of this amalgam). 29

29

See J. Scott, Algernon Sidney and the English Republic, 1623–1677 (Cambridge, 1988) for an account of Sidney’s life and his republicanism.

This use of natural rights could lead to radical theories of revolution and universal suffrage which many classical republicans would feel distinctly uncomfortable with. Both of these types of thought are mixed in Irish republican writing throughout the eighteenth century, and the tension between them caused problems for Irish radicals and Patriots. Their different assumptions about political participation and citizenship bore directly on the vital issue of who could be included in the political nation, and differences on this issue sparked debate about the relationship between property, rationality, virtue, and rights (issues which will be examined in Chapter 4). However, such tensions should not be overplayed, as eighteenth-century Irish writing often ignored them. Given that the language of both classical republicanism and of natural rights were in more obvious conflict with the practice of government than with each other, this is understandable. Both had powerful criticisms to make PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


of the self-interested, unrepresentative, and corrupt nature of Ascendancy politics. As a result, both languages were readily combined to provide powerful rhetoric for Patriotism. 30

30

This polemical mixing of natural rights and classical republicanism was not new. It has been noted in Sidney’s writings by A. C. Houston, who sees sharp

distinctions between natural rights and classical republicanism as anachronistic. See A. C. Houston, Algernon Sidney and the Republican Heritage in England and America (Princeton, 1991), 146–7 and more generally, 101–219, for Sidney’s political philosophy. end p.25

III . PATRIOTISM Late eighteenth-century patriotism was both a highly contested and widely applied political description. Hence defining and describing ‘patriotism’ during this period is more problematic than the ease and regularity of its use might suggest. In the Irish context, ‘Patriotism’ has often been applied by historians to radical reformers, Protestant Volunteers, and Whiggish MPs in a very straightforward manner. However, this usage can conceal a wealth of variety in attitudes to independence from Britain, the inclusion of Catholics in the political nation, 31

31

The attitude of this predominantly Protestant patriotism to Catholic political rights is obviously a critical one. It will be dealt with in Ch. 4.

parliamentary reform, and even free trade. Patriotism in Ireland was often a broad political description, especially between 1779 and 1782. It encompassed social and political conservatives who were concerned primarily with economic improvement and Irish legislative rights, as well as radical reformers and tentative advocates of separatism. The nuances and complexities of Irish Protestant Patriotism will be a major focus of this book, especially Chapters 2 and 3, but first we must lay the groundwork with a description of the wider patriot tradition from which it drew many of its ideas and much of its language. Following Viroli, we should first distinguish eighteenth-century patriotism from later nationalism. 32

32

M. Viroli, For Love of Country: An Essay on Patriotism and Nationalism (Oxford, 1995).

For while patriotism encompassed certain ideas which can also be called nationalist (such as a love of one’s country, people, and institutions), patriots generally had a more cosmopolitan outlook. They were less likely to claim intrinsic superiority for their own community (unless this was on the basis of the liberty it defends) and they were not usually motivated by a desire for its success at the expense of another’s. Richard Price’s cosmopolitan patriotism is firmly in this vein, combining universalist conceptions of rights and liberties with a genuine love of country. 33

33

Richard Price, A Discourse on the Love of Our Country (London, 1790). See also M. Fitz-patrick, ‘Patriots and Patriotisms: Richard Price and the Early

Reception of the French Revo lution in England’, in M. O’Dea and K. Whelan (eds.), Nations and Nationalisms: France, Britain, Ireland and the EighteenthCentury Context (Oxford, 1995), 211–30.

In contrast, nationalism (a more recent and largely post-French Revolution phenomenon) relies on the perceived superiority of one group over another using some combination of ethnic, linguistic, cultural, religious, historical, and geographical characteristics. As Colin Kidd argues, race and ethnicity were flexible, imprecise, and far less important than custom and precedent in eighteenth-century constructions of ‘British’ end p.26

identity in the Atlantic world. 34

34

C. Kidd, British Identities before Nationalism: Ethnicity and Nationhood in the Atlantic World, 1600–1800 (Cambridge, 1999).

This distinction between patriotism and nationalism is especially important in the Irish case, as Jackie Hill points out, in order to distance Irish Patriotism from the unhelpful teleological assumptions about its development into nationalism which have been common in Irish historiography. 35

35

Hill, From Patriots to Unionists, 3–7.

Nor was patriotism simply an early or mild form of nationalism, for it usually had a distinctive attitude to power, liberty, and the structure of the state not found in nationalism. Eighteenth-century patriotism was generally based on an opposition to ‘tyranny’ that had greater implications for domestic politics than foreign relations. Dryden identified a republican edge to the patriot as early as the late seventeenth century by defining him as ‘one that wou’d by Law supplant his Prince’, 36

36

The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary on Historical Principles (Oxford, 1993).



and until the 1790s, patriotism usually implied opposition to the government or court from a radical, republican, or ‘Country’ position. Viroli characterizes the distinction between republican patriotism and nationalism thus, ‘Whereas the enemies of republican patriotism are tyranny, despotism, oppression, and corruption, the enemies of nationalism are cultural contamination, heterogeneity, racial impurity, and social, political, and intellectual disunion.’ 37

37

Viroli, For Love of Country , 1–2.

We must not push the eighteenth-century association between patriotism and republicanism or opposition to the point of identity. For while this ‘republican patriotism’ was often the dominant form of patriotism there was also a significant tradition of using it in more neutral or conservative ways. This often involved distinctions between ‘true’ patriots whose activities were ruled by moderation and discernment and those who simply wished to oppose government on every issue. To be a patriot was to be committed to public life and to improving the common wealth rather than to personal interests, but there could be considerable disagreement on how this was to be achieved. Hence, we need an inclusive understanding of patriotism—one which recognizes the centrality of ‘the common good’ for all patriots, but which allows for disagreement about means. For some it was through parliamentary reform, for others through economic improvement and social stability. In its broadest sense, therefore, patriotism was a concern for the common good based on a ‘love of country’. 38

38

Price, A Discourse on the Love of Our Country .

Indeed the Latin root of ‘patriotism’ (‘patria’) simply implies a connection with, or love of, one’s fatherland. Mid-century definitions, therefore, could describe the end p.27

patriot in a politically neutral manner, and in 1755 Samuel Johnson defined him as ‘One whose ruling passion is the love of his country’. 39

39

Johnson, Dictionary .

However, oppositionist or republican patriotism was the increasingly dominant form in the eighteenth-century English-speaking world. In England John Wilkes and Major John Cartwright pushed patriotism in a confrontational and oppositionist direction, creating an association between patriotism, populism, and radical parliamentary reform. By enlisting the rowdy support of Englishmen previously outside the political nation, Wilkes besmirched the term ‘patriotism’ for many government supporters. (Charles Lucas had been performing a similar function in Ireland since the late 1740s.) In the court’s view, this systematic opposition to the king and his ministers, which drew on extraparliamentary power, threatened to undermine the constitution and could even be seen as sedition. Thus by the mid-177Os, patriotism had become, for Johnson, an ironical term ‘for a factious disturber of the government’ and, famously, ‘the last refuge of a scoundrel’. 40

Quoted from H. Cunningham, ‘The Language of Patriotism, 1750–1914’, History Work shop , 12 (1981), 8–34

40

.

This shift by Johnson shows how the partisan and oppositionist understanding of patriotism had gained ground. The use of ‘patriot’ to evoke a ‘party’ position, while recognized across the political spectrum, did not go uncontested. Some struggled to keep the term available to describe a neutral, or politically conservative, love of country. But many, including Johnson, were resigned to the appropriation of the term by opponents of government, and so used ‘patriot’ as a term of abuse. For him patriotism had been irretrievably debased as a cloak for political ambition. The popular patriotism of Wilkes became linked to radical parliamentary reform and a widening of the franchise: a process aided by Cartwright’s Take Your Choice (1776). For Cartwright, the patriot’s deep love of country required annual parliaments and equal representation. 41

41

Major John Cartwright, TAKE YOUR CHOICE! (London, 1776), 92.

Hence patriotism is inevitably a creed of opposition until the corrupted parliament is reformed. ‘It is downright quixotism to imagine, that so long as your parliament remains corrupt, you can ever have a patriot minister: and except parliament be reformed, ‘tis a matter of very great indifference who are in and who are out. I will utterly deny the possibility of your having a patriot minister prior to a parliamentary reformation.’ 42

42

Ibid., xxiii.

Thus, by the 1780s English Patriotism had developed into radical opposition with parliamentary reform at its heart. 43

43

Cunningham, ‘The Language of Patriotism’, 12–13.

end p.28

Irish Patriotism had much in common with this English model, which can serve as a useful point of comparison. Hugh Cunningham sees PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


three main sources of English patriotism: a classical republican tradition concerned with virtue, liberty, the balanced constitution, and the dangers of corruption; an ancient constitutional element that sought the restoration of Anglo-Saxon constitutional purity; and the providential idea that England was an elect nation favoured by God and ‘seen to be the birthplace of liberty’. 44

44

Ibid. 9–10.

With modifications and additions, these sources also apply to Ireland. The classical republican tradition was shared by Irish and English Patriots. Irish ancient constitutionalism had distinctively Irish elements, but it also shared many basic political, legal, and historical assumptions with its English counterpart. And like English Patriots, Irish Patriots drew on Protestant providence to establish their rights and liberties. Indeed, the Irish Protestant nation saw the successful defence of its liberty and property from Catholics in the seventeenth century as incontrovertible evidence of God’s favour. As Tom Bartlett puts it, ‘The disaster for Irish Protestants of the Catholic uprising of 1641 and the deliverance of 1688 could hardly be interpreted in any way other than providential... No one could now doubt that the Protestants of Ireland were under God’s special protection, that they were His chosen people in Ireland.’ 45

45

T. Bartlett, ‘Protestant Nationalism in Eighteenth-Century Ireland’, in O’Dea and Whelan (eds.), Nations and Nationalisms , 81.

However, Cunningham’s model of classical republicanism, ancient constitutionalism, and providence can only go so far in explaining Irish Patriotism. As indicated in the introduction, there are two further languages or sources needed. These are commercial grievances and natural rights (especially the infringement of Irish rights by Britain). The next chapter will show in detail how commercial concerns gave a forward-looking and improving aspect to Irish Patriotism, which saw increased trade and commerce as vital to the long-term protection of Irish liberty. But given the importance of classical republicanism for Irish Patriotism, and its often critical attitude to commerce, this requires some explanation. The privileged status accorded by classical republicans to landed property in conferring virtue and independence usually had important consequences for patriot attitudes to commerce and to the forms of property commerce created. As a result, some patriots questioned the compatibility of civic virtue with self-interested commercial spirit, especially if this led to extremes of wealth and luxury. Some even proposed agrarian laws to limit unhealthy accumulations of wealth that might unbalance the state. end p.29

Mandeville’s Fable of the Bees had scandalized those of classical republican sympathies due to its assertion that public benefit could result from private avarice, and in the early eighteenth century, the landed ideal had been severely undermined by new forms of property. New mechanisms of finance, credit, and stock (such as in the East India or South Sea companies) deprived property of its ‘solidity’. Bubbles can burst, land cannot. Hence, the new forms of property corrupted the political virtue of its owners by rendering them dependent on a complex and uncertain economic system which they could neither control nor predict. However, gradually, trade and commerce were allowed to take on the mantle of a public good. As early as the 1720s, Cato’s Letters speak of commerce as ‘a grateful and beneficent mistress’ who ‘cannot breathe in a tyrannical air’. 46

46

Cato’s Letters, ii. 267. Quoted in Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment , 471. Most of these letters were written by John Trenchard, who was educated at

Trinity College Dublin.

The argument that commerce leads to general benefit was then made more palatable by Montesquieu, and more systematic by Smith. 47

47

See A. O. Hirschman, The Passions and the Interests: Political Arguments for Capitalism before its Triumph (Princeton, 1977) for an elegant analysis of the

transformation of commerce from a vice to a virtue in eighteenth-century Britain and France.

Montesquieu even claimed commercial spirit as a modern agent of civilization to replace ancient civic virtue, which he thought unobtainable in modern civil society. These developments may have alleviated tensions within classical republicanism: they did not eradicate them. Pocock’s remark that ‘behind all this lay the ancient problem of showing how society might operate rationally and beneficially when the individuals composing it were denied full rationality and virtue’, 48

48

Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment , 464–5.

has relevance for Ireland also. There was still a widespread belief that the new commercial class was not worthy of significant political power, even if their interests must be accommodated for the public good. Thus, the classical republican landed ideal which inspired independent opposition to tyrannical government could also be used in a conservative way to protect the interests of a ruling landed oligarchy against the political ambitions of merchants and professionals. But in the Irish case, poverty and the onerous restrictions placed on their commerce by the Navigation, Woollen, and Cattle Acts (which prohibited most direct trade with the colonies and exports of wool, livestock, and dairy products for much of the eighteenth century) 49

49

See L. M. Cullen, Anglo-Irish Trade, 1660–1800 (Manchester, 1968).



enabled Patriots to take up the cause of free trade with few worries about the largely hypothetical dangers of self-interest and luxury. 50

50

Swift’s contrast between English luxury and Irish poverty shows how this early eighteenth-century debate had different premisses when applied to Ireland.

See S. Deane, ‘Swift and the Anglo-Irish Intellect’, ECI 1 (1986), 9–22. end p.30

The second addition to Cunningham’s model, a sense of infringed national rights, was an even more important difference. The relative strength and independence of a Patriot’s country naturally affected the degree to which his vigilance was directed internally or externally. Thus, the fact that Ireland was partly controlled by Britain gave Irish Patriotism a notably different character than English Patriotism. Irish liberty was threatened both from within and from without, hence Irish Patriotism needed the exercise of virtue and vigilance with regard to both kinds of threat. Although often bellicose supporters of an aggressive foreign policy, English Patriots were usually more concerned with the state of internal political liberty than external relations with other nations. In Ireland both were important. This dynamic gave Irish Patriotism added intensity and eventually pushed some Patriots in a nationalist direction. Of course, not all Irish Patriots were constantly concerned with the nature of the Anglo-Irish relationship. We can broadly agree with Leerssen’s portrayal of eighteenth-century Patriotism as a non-national Whiggism with philanthropic and Country overtones, and in many respects he is right to place Irish Patriotism in a tradition which leads to liberalism rather than nationalism. However, while Leerssen is correct to strip Irish Patriotism from anachronistic links to the nineteenth century and the straitjacket of Anglo-Irish national Manichaeism, concerns akin to nationalism were emerging. 51

51

J. Leerssen, ‘Anglo-Irish Patriotism and its European Context: Notes towards a Reassessment’, ECI 3 (1988), 7–24.

A serious survey of the political writing of the period 1779 to 1782 shows that the Anglo-Irish relationship did dominate much Patriot rhetoric. They were deeply worried by the role of the British parliament in Irish politics and expressed a dissatisfaction that can, on occasion, be described as proto-nationalist. Thus, while recognizing that eighteenth-century Patriotism was not nineteenth-century nationalism, we must still explain its proto-nationalist preoccupation with the Anglo-Irish relationship in terms of the political languages available to it. This book will show that classical republicanism, commercial grievances, ancient constitutionalism, and natural rights all contained powerful arguments concerning liberty, power, and independence that could be used for nationalist ends. The Patriot focus on external usurpations of Irish rights also created very broad support at key moments. Until the granting of legislative independence in 1782, many internal disagreements could be temporarily end p.31

smoothed over. Thus, Irish Patriotism, at times, encompassed a wider range of political and social attitudes than British Patriotism. Almost everyone, from radical reformers to socially conservative loyalists, could call themselves a Patriot during the agitation for free trade and legislative independence. We must, therefore, be wary of too close a connection between Patriotism and radicalism in Ireland, especially before 1783, and remember that not all Patriots would become radical parliamentary reformers. Above all else, patriotism relied on a concept of virtuous citizenship. Rousseau, for example, argued in his Discourse on Political Economy (1758) that ‘there could be no patriotism without liberty, no liberty without virtue, no virtue without citizens; create citizens and you have everything you need.’ 52

52

Jean-Jacques Rousseau, A Discourse on Political Economy , in The Social Contract and Discourses , tr. G. D. H. Cole (London, 1973), 135.

The implication being that people will only love their country if it is free, and only if the people have certain virtues (i.e. skills and moral attributes) can this freedom be created and maintained. Thus, a focus of republican patriotism was always the moral, intellectual, and emotional prerequisites for liberty, and as we shall see in Chapter 3, Irish Patriots were especially preoccupied with the personal qualities necessary for liberty. But the association between liberty, virtue, and patriotism had ambiguous consequences for Ireland and was not necessarily a good basis for popular citizenship. Bolingbroke’s influential contribution to the theory of patriotism argued that liberty and good government would be best secured through a virtuous elite or a patriot king. 53

53

See H. T. Dickinson, Bolingbroke (London, 1970), 254–76, for the context of Bolingbroke’s patriotism in the emergence of a patriot party around Prince

Frederick in opposition to Walpole in the late 1730s.

In A Letter on the Spirit of Patriotism (173 6) Bolingbroke combined elements of the Commonwealth tradition with ideas that are clearly far more hierarchical and elitist. He emphasized the patriot’s duty to oppose corruption with vigilance, spirit, and political knowledge, but these duties fell overwhelmingly on the superior sort of man. The majority, he argued, live only to consume, and they perform their moral duties imperfectly. But the superior spirits ‘are they who engross almost the whole reason of the species; who are born to instruct, to guide, and to preserve’.

54



Henry St John, Visc. Bolingbroke, ‘A Letter on the Spirit of Patriotism’, in Works, ed. D. Mallet (5 vols., London, 1754; reprinted Darmstadt, 1968), iii. 4.

And while this superior sort need not be the nobility, it is obvious that Bolingbroke’s patriotism is not designed for the mob or even the middling sorts. This idea is taken to its logical extreme in The Idea of a Patriot King (1738) in which patriotic renewal of the corrupted state is best achieved by just one superior sort—the patriot king. In Bolingbroke’s view, end p.32

‘nothing can so surely and effectually restore the virtue and public spirit essential to the preservation of liberty and national prosperity, as the reign of such a prince’. 55

55

Ibid. 40. If the 1782 catalogue for White’s bookshop in Dublin is anything to go by, the works of Bolingbroke, esp. The Idea of a Patriot King and A

Dissertation on Parties, were popular reading.

Such patriotism supports the individual virtue of a Grattan or a Charlemont far better than the popular patriotism of the radical reformers, and his preoccupation with reason and social status bequeathed a problem to Protestant Irish Patriots. By creating a heroic tradition which legitimized a connection between elitism and the pursuit of liberty, between glory, honour, and virtue, he made it very difficult for them to accept ignorant, superstitious, and impoverished Catholics as virtuous patriotic citizens.

IV . RADICALISM Any discussion of radicalism in this period is fraught with problems of definition and open to charges of anachronism. 56

56

See J. C. D. Clark’s critiques in English Society, 1688–1832 (Cambridge, 1985), and Revolution and Rebellion: State and Society in England in the

Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (Cambridge, 1986).

By labelling a diverse group of reformers with a term not commonly used until the 1820s, we run the risk of distorting the character of a movement by imposing both a coherence, and a continuity with later reformers, which may not have existed. Making this point, J. C. D. Clark asserts that ‘the historian’s task is to uncover the very different phenomena which have been obscured by the retrospective application of a blanket label—phenomena each with its appropriate, and seventeenth- or eighteenth-century name’. 57

57

Clark, Revolution and Rebellion , 100.

This is a sound principle, and I hope a careful attention to eighteenth-century language will shed light on the different strains within radicalism. However, there are strong grounds for retaining the term ‘radical’ as a descriptive label in the 1780s and 1790s. First, the alternatives all have their own problems. ‘Democrat’ is a possibility, but this would have been anachronistic before the 1790s (and still rare in Ireland after it). And as many ‘radicals’ accepted monarchy and aristocracy, ‘democrat’ would also be misleading. ‘Rational Dissenter’ is obviously too narrow, even if these people were very important to the phenomenon in question. ‘Reformer’ is the most plausible alternative, and this was used at the time as a self-description, but it is too wide. Indeed it could accurately include men like Christopher Wyvill, Charles James Fox, end p.33

or even the young William Pitt—hardly, by the mid-179Os, the ideological bedfellows of Wolfe Tone and William Drennan. Secondly, the term is not so anachronistic as Clark suggests. ‘Radicalism’ or ‘radical’ were not used as nouns in the late eighteenth century, but the phrase ‘a radical reform of parliament’ was. I use ‘radical’ in this sense—as shorthand for ‘radical reformer’ and as a label to identify a mentalité focused on the radical reform of parliament. This usage also distinguishes between radical and more moderate reformers, a distinction which becomes increasingly important in the 1790s. It might be argued that the lack of a contemporary self-description suggests the lack of a contemporary phenomenon, but the existence of a well-defined radical reform programme and well-known bodies dedicated to its implementation provide very real proof of the phenomenon. And when ideas and language are changing quickly, new political platforms may develop before an appropriate label has arrived to describe them. Furthermore, if we search for a contemporary label in the divisive atmosphere of the 1790s, then we also run the risk of finding one (such as ‘leveller’, ‘jacobin’, or ‘republican’) foisted upon the radical reformers for propaganda purposes by their opponents. This would distort our understanding more seriously than the retrospective application of ‘radical’. Clark’s attack on the term ‘radical’ stems, in part, from his desire to return religion to the centre of political opposition. 58

58

For a general critique of Clark’s project, see J. Innes, ‘Review Article: Jonathan Clark, Social History and England’s “Ancien Regime”’, P & P 115 (May

1987), 165–200

.

Religious Dissenters were certainly very prominent in reform movements and their religious ideas informed their assault on the status quo, PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


but they cannot be used as a catch-all category for radical reformers. First, many, at least in Ireland, were not Dissenters. Tone, Rowan, and O’Connor were Anglicans, and some were Catholic, such as MacNeven. Secondly, many of the radical reformers’ goals were more straightforwardly political than Clark would have us believe. Clark argues that ‘into the 1820s the attack on the establishment was conducted primarily over religious issues and by those men who felt most strongly about them’. 59

59

Clark, Revolution and Rebellion , 102.

The strongly held dissenting religious beliefs of many ‘radicals’ is not in doubt, but this statement ignores the essentially political aspect of their attack. The six-point programme for parliamentary reform of the Society for Constitutional Information, produced as far back as 1780, is entirely political. It consists of annual elections, universal male suffrage, equal electoral districts, secret ballots, payment for MPs, and the abolition of property qualification for MPs. Clark’s point is a useful corrective end p.34

to an overly materialistic, Marxist or Whiggish interpretation. But by seeking an essentially religious explanation he also distorts the nature of radical reform—especially for Ireland, where the repeal of the Sacramental Test Act in 1780 removed many of the substantive disabilities still endured by Dissenters in Britain. 60

60

19 & 20 Geo. III, c. 6.

This encouraged more purely political causes to be espoused and reduced the need of rational Dissenters to focus on religious liberty. The goal of radical parliamentary reform was found throughout the British Isles from the early 1780s, and Irish parliamentary reformers selfconsciously saw themselves as part of this wider movement. Dickinson sees radicalism as a development of older Country forms of opposition. The Country critique of corrupt executive patronage subverting the balanced constitution was enlarged to include its corruption of the representation of the people. The remedy required restructuring the political system. For radical reformers, the emphasis shifted from place and pension bills (or ‘economical’ reform) to the redistribution of seats on a more equal basis and the enlargement of the franchise. This radicalism was fuelled by Wilkite demonstrations and external crises, such as the American Revolution: an event which highlighted the corruption and incompetence of the administration. Radicals also extended the notion that property should be represented in parliament into the dictum that there should be no taxation without representation—which in turn rapidly came to mean voting rights for all or most adult men. Radicals increasingly resorted to extra-parliamentary means and were influenced by a literal reading of Lockean theories of natural rights, the social contract, and the right to resist. This developed into a theory of popular sovereignty and popular participation in politics. These rights to resist and participate were often combined with the need to protect the ancient liberties of Englishmen, and English radicals commonly looked back to a pristine political order, often of Anglo-Saxon origin. Perhaps inconsistently, they also had an Enlightenment faith in progress, reason, and toleration, and many radicals also looked forward to a utopian realization of human potential: a potential currently checked by archaic, aristocratic, and tyrannical governments which would inevitably fall. 61

61

Dickinson, Liberty and Property , 195–269.

All of these views had an impact on Ireland, although some needed to be adapted for Irish use. Full-blown radicalism of this sort was a post-1776 phenomenon in Ireland as well as Britain and its evolution in Ireland will be one of the main subjects of the later chapters. However, the radical Whig tradition from end p.35

which it stems had a number of notable Irish connections. The remainder of the chapter will, therefore, explore the ideological terrain of Ireland before this date to provide some background to the Patriot, republican, and radical views that were adopted and used in Ireland after the American Revolution.

V . PATRIOTISM AND REPUBLICANISM IN IRELAND BEFORE THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION Before the American Revolution, there was much that a thoroughgoing Patriot or classical republican could object to in eighteenth-century Ireland. The Irish parliament was subordinate to the British, which had formally claimed the right to legislate for Ireland with the Declaratory Act (1720) , and Irish bills had to be submitted to the English privy council for approval under Poynings’ Law (1495). 62

J. L. McCracken, The Irish Parliament in the Eighteenth Century (Dundalk, 1971), 13–14.

By the mid-eighteenth century, the Lord Lieutenant, a political appointee of the British cabinet, 63

62

63

In theory, the Lord Lieutenant was the monarch’s choice, and he had been in the early eighteenth century. But by the mid-eighteenth century he was

appointed by the British ministry of the day.



managed the Irish parliament through an extensive system of patronage and undertakers. And although this often proved difficult (particularly over issues of finance), 64

64

Wood’s half-pence crisis in 1723–4 and the money bill disputes of the 1750s being the most notable examples.

the Irish parliament did not seriously challenge British authority until after the onset of the American war. Up to a third of Irish MPs received patronage, 65

65


and it is estimated that in 1776 only 64 of the 300 seats in the Irish Commons were ‘open’, the rest being controlled by ‘50 peers and sundry commoners’. 66

66

See J. Kelly, ‘Parliamentary Reform in Irish Politics: 1760–90’ in D. Dickson, D. Keogh, and K. Whelan (eds.), The United Irishmen: Republicanism,

Radicalism and Rebellion (Dublin, 1993) 77.

This situation could hardly be viewed as a harmonious balance of interests, nor could many prominent politicians be described as virtuous and independent by classical republican criteria. Indeed not only did one element, the executive, dominate the others, this element was strictly speaking not even Irish for it accepted pensions and places to do the bidding of a foreign power. In short, because the Protestant Ascendancy was ultimately dependent upon Britain for its position of superiority, Irish politics could be seen as even more corrupt than British. Patriots saw it as an unhealthy mixture of tyranny, oligarchy, and foreign domination, and for many this situation end p.36

created both resentment of England and a degree of self-loathing for their own compromised position. Ideally, Patriots needed political space and autonomy to be complete citizens, but this implied a rejection of British support which could cost them their privileged position. This distaste for dependency among Irish Patriots led to a style of politics which often valued rhetoric and bravado above substance, in an attempt to create the impression of independence where little actually existed. But most notably it led to an increasingly aggressive Patriot movement which culminated in the Volunteers and their campaigns for free trade and legislative independence. As a result, it is tempting to view Irish political thought in the early eighteenth century as merely a prelude to the Patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism of the latter part of the century. The popular image of such diverse theorists as Molyneux, Swift, and Lucas suggests such a teleo-logical approach, as does their powerful use of natural rights, savage social criticism, and populist rhetoric. Any introduction to late eighteenth-century republican, Patriot, and radical political thought should certainly point to such men as forebears, not least because later Patriots and radicals themselves acknowledged a debt to them. But their role in the development and transmission of Patriotic ideas was by no means straightforward, and they would have undoubtedly abhorred the principles of many Irishmen who later claimed them as heroes. The remainder of this chapter, therefore, will explore the ambiguous legacy of the early Irish Patriots and republicans. Four points must be made initially. First, these early attempts to challenge English control of inadequate and corrupt Irish institutions were neither radical by the standards of the 1780s and 1790s, nor republican in the anti-monarchical sense. Secondly, these thinkers were often minority voices within the Protestant political nation. Many Protestants responded favourably to them in a political crisis (notably to Swift’s Drapier’s Letters during the Wood’s half-pence affair of 1724), 67

67

See F. P. Lock, Swift’s Tory Politics (London, 1983), 161–8, for Swift’s role in the affair.

but the political elite invariably rejected their arguments as dangerous and even seditious. Thirdly, they were rarely populist in the widest sense: political rights were almost never claimed for all of the Irish people before 1776. Fourthly, all of these early Irish Patriots exhibit ambiguous political identities, and their self-identification as those of English blood in Ireland is both flexible and unstable. They cannot be described as Patriots in any inclusive or separatist sense. end p.37

Molesworth, while not a typical Irish Patriot, is an interesting example of this ambiguity. His writing often confuses England with the larger political community of the British Isles, and he writes as an Englishman, not as an Irishman, even when addressing an issue which bears directly on Ireland. This is demonstrated in his statement on Irish union with England in the Preface of his translation of Hotman’s FrancoGallia (written, but not published, before the 1707 Act of Union with Scotland ). No man can be a sincere Lover of Liberty, that is not for increasing and communicating that Blessing to all People; and therefore the giving or restoring it not only to our Brethren of Scotland and Ireland, even to France it self (were it in our Power) is one of the principle Articles of Whiggism. The Ease and Advantage which would be gained by uniting our own Three Kingdoms upon equal PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


Terms ... is so visible, that if we had not the Example of those Masters of the World, the Romans, before our Eyes, one wou’d wonder that our own experience (in the Instance of uniting Wales to England) shou’d not convince us, that altho both Sides wou’d incredibly gain by it, yet the rich and opulent Country, to which such an Addition is made, wou’d be the greater Gainer. 68

68

Robert Molesworth, ‘The Translator’s Preface’ to Hotman’s Franco-Gallia (London, 1721), XX.

There are a number of different personas behind this statement. By referring to ‘our Brethren of Scotland and Ireland’ he places himself firmly as an Englishman, but ‘our own Three Kingdoms upon equal terms’ suggests a British identity based on affection and cultural unity not yet manifested in formal political arrangements. There is also the indication that his political principles are more ‘international’ or universalist than nationalist in his desire to extend Whiggish principles to France. Perhaps the link between these positions is the revealing allusion to Rome. He aspires to a Whig Empire with an English political centre but based on common principles. This would command loyalty by the equal enjoyment of law and liberty throughout its lands, rather than by the subjugation of the periphery by the centre. Ireland becomes a British Sicily, and its inhabitants citizens of a larger political brotherhood united by common religious and political traditions. Molesworth’s perspective is perhaps broader than most Irish Patriots and certainly more English than Irish, but such ambivalence towards Irish-ness was not uncommon among early Patriots. Even Molyneux, the supposed forefather of Irish Patriotism, had a very ambiguous identity. Like Molesworth and many other Whiggish Anglo-Irishmen in the early eighteenth century, he desired a union and wished to be ruled by an English parliament which contained Irish representation (although he thought end p.38

this a ‘Happiness we can hardly hope for’). 69

69

William Molyneux, The Case of Ireland’s Being Bound by Acts of Parliament in England, Stated

(Dublin, 1698), 98. See J. Hill, ‘Ireland Without Union:

Molyneux and his Legacy’, in J. Robertson (ed.), A Union for Empire: The Union of 1707 in the History of British Political Thought

(Cambridge, 1995), 271

–96.

As part of the recently reestablished Anglo-Irish Protestant elite, such attitudes are understandable. 70

70

Molyneux’s family had been part of this elite before the Williamite victory. His great grandfather arrived in Ireland from England in the 1570s and became

Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer. His grandfather was an Irish MP, and his father had fought under both the royal ist, Ormond, and later in the Commonwealth army. See J. G. Simms, William Molyneux of Dublin, /656-/69# (Dublin, 1982), 11–18.

But they show the significant differences between Patriots at either end of the eighteenth century, for unionism was abhorrent to late eighteenth-century Patriots. Molyneux’s place in radical and republican lineage is also ambiguous. When he became MP for Trinity College in the Williamite parliament of 1692 he was generally regarded as a supporter of the Irish executive, and the publication of The Case of Ireland ... Stated in 1698 caused considerable embarrassment to friends and political colleagues. Despite the allegations directed at him by English enemies, however, it contains no hint of anti-monarchical republicanism and little to place it in a classical republican tradition except for the occasional rejection of absolutism in favour of balanced government. Because of its perceived centrality to the Patriot tradition (and in order to understand its relationship to later Patriotism) a brief analysis of The Case of Ireland... Stated is necessary. 71

71

For a fuller analysis of Molyneux, see T. McLoughlin, Contesting Ireland: Irish Voices against England in the Eighteenth Century (Dublin, 1999), 41–64.

The work is a mixture of historical, legal, and theoretical arguments, which aim to demonstrate the right of Irishmen to submit only to laws and taxes to which they have consented. Molyneux argued that Ireland ought not to be dependent on the English parliament and had only been regarded as such in rare and exceptional circumstances until the more frequent violations of the seventeenth century. This was confirmed by the fact that Ireland had the constitutional form of ‘a Compleat Kingdom within it self 72

72

Molyneux, The Case of Ireland... Stated , 148.

and was styled as such among the titles of the monarch (unlike the American colonies). Essentially, Molyneux’s Case is an attempt to justify this interpretation by using natural rights, contract theory, theories of conquest, and the rights of the ‘English in Ireland’. The tract owed much to John Locke’s Two Treatises of Government and was perhaps the first of many to put Locke’s arguments to more subversive ends than Locke himself intended. Ironically, Locke, a close friend of end p.39

Molyneux, disapproved of his conclusions, despite the fact that Moly-neux’s most powerful arguments were lifted straight from the Two Treatises. Echoing Locke on natural rights, Molyneux asserted that ‘Liberty seems the Inherent Right of all Mankind; and on whatever Ground any one Nation can Challenge it to themselves, on the same Reason may the rest of Adam’s Children Expect it.’

73




Molyneux then argued that ‘All men are by nature in a state of Equality in respect of Jurisdiction or Dominion’, and this Equality forms the foundation of that right which all men claim of being free from all Subjection to Positive Laws, till by their own Consent they give up their Freedom, by entering into Civil Societies for the common benefit of all the Members thereof... And on this Consent depends the Obligation of all Humane Laws; insomuch that without it, by the unanimous Opinions of all Jurists no sanctions are of any Force. 74

74

Ibid. 150–1.

However, Molyneux obviously expected few to be swayed by assertions of natural rights alone. He devoted most of the tract to arguments based on historical and legal precedents, from the Middle Ages to his own time, which disputed the claims of the English parliament to meddle in Irish affairs. 75

75

The historical and legal portion of The Case of Ireland...Stated draws on Patrick Darcy’s Argument (1643) and on a Disquisition on the traditional

independence of the Irish parliament drawn up in 1660 by Molyneux’s father-in-law, Sir William Domville. See Simms, William Molyneux of Dublin , 102–3.

This appeal to history forced Molyneux to ask whether Ireland was a conquered country and a mere colony of England. Were Henry II’s invasion and the subsequent waves of English settlement a conquest? And if they were a conquest, what rights did that give to the English parliament? In answer, he adopted a twofold strategy: denial of English conquest alongside rejection of any rights that might arise from conquest. Molyneux contrasted the ‘Acquisition of a Kingdom by Force of Arms, to which, Force likewise has been opposed’ with Henry’s invasion, which ‘was no violent Subjugation of this Kingdom’. The event was, rather, ‘an Intire and Voluntary Submission of all the Ecclesiastical and Civil States of Ireland, to King Henry II, without the least Hostile Stroke on any side’. 76

76

Molyneux, The Case of Ireland... Stated , 11–12.

Thus, Ireland was portrayed as a sovereign and unconquered country that freely gave its crown to the English king, as a separate kingdom. This submission was then conceptualized as a Lockean original compact between ruler and people to emphasize the point that only the English king and not the English end p.40

parliament had a role in governing Ireland. ‘I am sure ‘tis not possible’, Molyneux declared, ‘to shew a more fair Original Compact between a King and People, than between Henry, the Second, and the People of Ireland.’ 77

77

Ibid. 38.

However, this model of a settled civil society based on an original compact between king and people dating back to the twelfth century ignored centuries of conflict over legitimacy, authority, and property rights. Molyneux, obviously uncertain that this view of Ireland’s submission would convince everyone, backed it up with Locke’s theories on the rights of conquerors. Even if conquest were admitted, Molyneux argued, a just invader had ‘no power over those who Conquered with him’. Hence, ‘Supposing Henry II had Right to invade ... it was only the Antient Race of the Irish, that would suffer by this subjugation; the English and the Britains, that came over and conquered with him, retain’d all the Freedoms and Immunities of Free-born Subjects’. Such reasoning conflicted with voluntary submission, but it did secure Irish rights through the rights of those Englishmen in Ireland who were descended from the original conquerors. This explanation threatened to exclude the majority of Irishmen, yet Molyneux, undeterred, produced an audacious solution to the problem. Now ‘tis manifest that the great Body of the present People of Ireland, are the Progeny of the English and Britains ... and remains but a meer handful of the Antient Irish at this day; I may say, not one in a thousand: So that if I, or any body else, claim the like freedoms with the natural born Subjects of England, as being descended from them, it will be impossible to prove the contrary. 78

78

Ibid. 18–20.

This is a crucial passage, for it is both an attempt to answer the exclusionary dilemma at the heart of Irish Patriotism and a means of reconciling Molyneux’s two main arguments. It does not matter now whether Irish rights rest on universal natural rights or specific English rights. According to Molyneux, it conveniently rests on both, because virtually all Irishmen were descended from English settlers, who, of course, possessed both kinds of right. This nonsense did have the potential for inclusiveness, but only if the ‘antient Irish’ were willing to take on the identity of free-born Irishmen of ‘English’ blood. And by placing Irish rights in this English blood, Molyneux weakened his rejection of colonial status for Ireland (which he thought the ‘most extravagant’ of all charges made against it). For his identification of the ruling class as the English in Ireland PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


sounds suspiciously like a colonial elite, and his view of the conduct of a free Irish parliament end p.41

does little to dispel this thought. In an attempt to soothe English nerves, he asserted that ‘whilest Ireland is in English hands, I do not see how ‘tis possible for the parliament of Ireland to do anything that can be in the least prejudicial to England’. 79

79


Hence, Molyneux’s legacy to Irish Patriots is an ambiguous one, despite its perceived centrality, and in some respects he is an unlikely hero for later Patriots. In recent years, the significance of Molyneux to later Patriots has been re-evaluated. Traditionally, a symbolic link in the Patriot tradition from Molyneux to Henry Grattan was the latter’s speech in the Irish Commons on 16 April 1782 (the eve of Irish legislative independence). Gerard O’Brien, after examining other known accounts and reports of the speech, doubts whether Grattan ever uttered the famous phrase, ‘Spirit of Swift, spirit of Molyneux, your genius has prevailed; Ireland is now a nation.’ 80

80

The Speeches of the Rt. Hon. Henry Grattan in the Irish and the Imperial Parliament , ed. H. Grattan the Younger (4 vols., Dublin, 1822), i. 123.

He argues that it was a later addition to the published version. After finding only one casual reference to Swift, and none to Molyneux, in a ‘determined search’ of Grattan’s speeches, O’Brien claims that ‘Grattan was not especially concerned to justify his case in a distinctly Irish Patriotic context and that he did not regard his speech as part of a long-standing argument’. O’Brien even goes so far as to assert that ‘the concept of the eighteenth-century “Patriot tradition” is the longest standing, most deeply entrenched myth in the canon of Irish history; it is also the myth with the shakiest foundation’. 81

81

G. O’Brien, ‘The Grattan Mystique’, ECI 1 (1986), 177–94.

This revision of the Patriot legacy has in turn been scrutinized, with Patrick Kelly pointing out that Molyneux’s The Case of Ireland... Stated was reprinted nine times after its publication in 1698, with four of those reprints appearing between 1770 and 1782. 82

82

The nine reprint dates were: 1706,1719,1720,1725,1749,1770,1773,1776, and 1782. See Simms, William Molyneux of Dublin , 141–2.

Kelly does, however, identify a lull in the frequency of references to Molyneux in the middle of the century. He attributes his later popularity to a reworking of his message by Charles Lucas, whose ‘reinterpretation of Molyneux in terms of the eighteenth-century discourse of corruption versus Patriotism, though doing violence to historical reality, presented the pioneer Irish Patriot in a guise acceptable to the radicalism prevalent both in England and Ireland in the latter 1760s’. Helped by this facelift, it seems to Kelly ‘undeniable that Irishmen did regard Molyneux in a particularly privileged light in the last end p.42

three decades of the eighteenth century’. 83

83

P. Kelly, ‘William Molyneux and the Spirit of Liberty in Eighteenth-Century Ireland’, ECI 3 (1988), 133–48.

Thus, O’Brien is right to question the continuity of the Patriot tradition, but Molyneux was still important to later Patriots. They often referred to him, and their need for a recognized, sympathetic authority on the ancient constitution of Ireland outweighed any reservations they may have had about his other views. Swift’s role in the evolution of Irish Patriotism is also a complex one. Often called the ‘Hibernian Patriot’, and cited by Grattan as a founding father of Irish Patriotism, he only reluctantly took up Irish issues after the fall of the Tories in 1714. Indeed his Patriotism has even been seen as disgruntled revenge for his exile from England and lack of preferment. Lock argues that Swift ‘never concealed his contempt for Ireland, the Irish, and Irish politics’, and despite his ‘perfectly genuine belief in the moral right of Ireland to be legislatively independent of the English government’, his desire to embarrass the Whig regime, George I, and Walpole was probably a more important motivation for his Patriotism. 84

84

Lock, Swift’s Tory Politics , 162.

Swift also wrote in a variety of voices—many of them English in tone rather than Irish. But he did develop a genuine concern for the economic well-being and the political rights of Ireland, and despite his essentially Tory outlook, he often used radical Whig arguments. Indeed, his Lockean assertion that ‘all Government without the Consent of the Governed, is the very Definition of Slavery’ 85

85

Jonathan Swift, Drapier’s Letter IV, To the Whole People of Ireland, in Swift’s Irish Pamphlets , ed. J. McMinn (Gerrards Cross, 1991), 80.

could have been uttered by any of his Real Whig contemporaries, and he was even admired by later English radicals such as Henry



Yorke, William Godwin, and Thomas Spence. 86

86

The admiring tone of Michael Foot’s introduction to the Penguin Classics edition of Gulliver’s Travels (London, 1967) is just one demonstration of the

continuing affinity of the ‘left’ of British politics for Swift.

Swift could never be accused of anti-monarchical republicanism. He was a staunch defender of the principle of monarchy and the English constitution, and he strongly opposed Sidney’s Discourses concerning Government 87

87

Lock, Swift’s Tory Politics , 157–61.

But his irreverent, sustained criticisms of ministers and royal advisers often implied hostility to individual monarchs such as George I. His vigorous defence of the Established Church in Ireland, and his strong opposition to toleration for Dissenters and Catholics make his relationship to later Patriotism problematic, but his rigid Anglican superiority was perfectly in keeping with early Irish Patriotism. In short, Swift’s political philosophy is end p.43

complex and not easily pigeonholed, and I will simply highlight those key elements (especially his economic and constitutional arguments) that were to prove helpful to later Patriots. Central to Swift’s Patriotism was his concern for the economic condition of Ireland. As we have seen, early Irish Patriotism often centred on ancient constitutional rights and historical precedent, but these claims were crucially supported by arguments for improving Ireland’s depressed economy and relieving its extreme poverty. Swift, Berkeley, Molesworth, and others were distressed by the poverty of Ireland and inspired to take up the pen because of it. This concern was the direct ancestor of the language of commercial grievance that pervaded Irish political writing in the late 1770s. Swift’s first important work on Ireland was the allegory, The Story of the Injured Lady , in which Ireland is portrayed as a beautiful but impoverished lady who is wooed, seduced, and then abandoned by an ungrateful suitor (England) —before he proceeds to marry her ugly and undeserving rival (Scotland). Not only does the suitor jilt the lady, he forces her to take his own tenants on to her land and be governed by an under-steward (the viceroy) under the direction of his own steward (the English monarch). This essentially exploitative and colonial model of Anglo-Irish relations forms the basis of all Swift’s subsequent writings on the subject, and the advice he offers in The Answer to the Injured Lady touches on many key preoccupations for Irish Patriots. He reminds the lady of her independence (excepting her obligation to have the same ‘steward’ as England); of her right to trade freely with England and all other nations; of the obligation of placemen and government officials to live in Ireland and not spend their wages in England; and that her former suitor has no power to interfere with the leasing of her property and land. Parliamentary independence, free trade, criticism of absenteeism, and the right of Protestant Irishmen to protect their privileges were all crucial issues to Patriots. 88

88

Swift, The Story of the Injured Lady , in McMinn (ed.), Swift’s Irish Pamphlets, 23–8.

The importance placed on economic grievances by Swift foreshadowed the campaign for free trade which was at the heart of 1770s Patriotism. The idea of an embargo on English goods was not simply imported from the American revolutionaries. In A Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufacture, Swift had called, as far back as 1720, for ‘a firm resolution ... never to appear with one single Shred that comes from England’. 89

89

Swift, A Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufacture , in McMinn (ed.), Swift’s Irish Pamphlets, 50.

These themes are repeated in A Short View of the State of Ireland (1727), in which Swift listed all the factors which affect a nation’s prosperity and pointed out end p.44

those in which Ireland was deficient. He is not uncritical of Irish failings, but the main criticisms are directed at England, at the corrupt Irish placemen it supported, and at the absentee governors and landowners who drained the country of money. His practical remedies included free trade, schemes for the improvement of land, the restriction of office-holding to Irishmen, and increased consumption of homeproduced goods. The root of much of Swift’s thinking on Ireland is the infringed rights of the Anglo-Irish. Fundamentally, these economic problems were all linked to the constitutional and political problem that Ireland was subject to laws to which it did not consent. This issue is most vividly summed up in the fourth Drapier’s Letter . One great merit I am sure we have which those of English birth can have no pretence to, that our ancestors reduced this kingdom to the obedience of England, for which we have been rewarded with a worse climate, the privilege of being governed by laws to which we do not consent, a ruined trade, a House of Peers without jurisdiction, almost an incapacity for all employments; and the



dread of Wood’s halfpence. 90

90

Swift, Drapier’s Letter IV, To the Whole People of Ireland , in McMinn (ed.), Swift’s Irish Pamphlets, 73.

Swift’s achievement as a Patriot was to blend ancient constitutional and commercial language with selected elements of the classical republican and natural rights tradition in the Protestant, Anglo-Irish cause. With skilful sleight of hand he also encouraged the Patriot tradition of using the inclusive language of ‘nation’ and ‘people’ to refer to the Protestant nation and people alone. The fourth Drapier’s Letter is addressed disingenuously ‘To the Whole people of Ireland’, but the focus is on those of English blood and Irish birth. Despite these divergences from later Patriots, Swift provided them with a rich fund of rhetoric, argument, and imagery to draw on. And although he was never a separatist, nor a republican, there was a bitter anti-English twist to his rhetoric which became an important, if somewhat ambiguous, strand in Irish Patriotism. Charles Lucas’s role in the transmission and popularization of classical republican and ancient constitutional ideas among Patriots in the 1750s and 1760s was also crucial. 91

91

See Hill, From Patriots to Unionists, 83–90, for a discussion of his political philosophy.

As Sean Murphy points out, Lucas’s writings ‘contain an exhaustive analysis of the British constitution with its balance between the three estates of king, lords and commons, and stress the ever present danger of degeneration due to corruption’. 92

92

S. Murphy, ‘Charles Lucas, Catholicism and Nationalism’, ECI 8 (1993), 83–102.

He tried to demonstrate that this constitution was as much the birthright of the Irish as the English, and he campaigned to limit the duration of Irish parliaments in the end p.45

1760s. He also echoed Trenchard and Gordon in declaring the British system to have ‘more of the true republic in its composition than any of those that now bear the name of republic’. 93

93

Charles Lucas, The Political Constitutions of Great Britain and Ireland Asserted and Vindicated

(London, 1751), xvi. Quoted in Murphy, ‘Charles Lucas,

Catholicism and Nationalism’, 89.

All of these ideas could be found in earlier Real Whig writing, but given Lucas’s popularity, Murphy’s claim that Lucas ‘represented an important pivotal stage in the transition from Anglo-Irish or Protestant constitutional nationalism to the more radical and inclusive republican separatism of the United Irishmen’ is plausible. 94

94

Ibid. 88.

There are elements of his rhetoric which place him firmly in a mid-century mentalité, however. 95

95

For a discussion of the mid-century Patriot press, see R. MunterR. Munter, The History of the Irish Newspaper, /685-/760 (Cambridge, 1967), 169–88.

Despite Murphy’s convincing refutation of Lucas’s Protestant bigotry, his sense of Protestant superiority was still strong. Murphy argues that Lucas was eventually prepared to envisage Catholic equality in civil rights as long as they renounced the temporal authority of the Pope (a not insignificant concession in the 1750s). However, there is no sign of him advocating any political rights for Catholics.

VI . CONCLUSION From this overview an interesting picture of pre-1776 Patriotism emerges. Despite its protestations of Irish rights, Patriots accepted that, politically, Ireland was an English construction. The foundation of the Patriots’ thought was their rights as the heirs of free-born Protestant Englishmen in Ireland. Patriots were also concerned with liberty and corruption, with balanced government, with Irish commercial grievances, and occasionally with natural rights. But they did not wish to sever the connection with England, nor remove the monarch, nor reform the basis of representation, nor include Catholics in the political nation. The staunch Protestantism and even unionism of early Patriotism should not surprise us. In the face of a potentially hostile Catholic majority, all Irish Protestants in the early and mid-eighteenth century were ill disposed to arguments that would seriously weaken bonds with the British crown or damage Protestant authority within Ireland. The ambiguous Patriots Molyneux, Swift, and Lucas are no exceptions. However, the nature of the political connection to Britain and the role of the British parliament in controlling Irish affairs deeply troubled many Protestant Irish minds, and in this sense there was a continuity to Irish end p.46



Patriotism over the century. Indeed J. C. Beckett has gone so far as to argue that ‘from the end of the seventeenth century to the end of the eighteenth Irish political writing was dominated by one theme, the constitutional relationship between Ireland and Britain’. 96

96

J. C. Beckett, ‘Literature in English, 1691–1800’, in T. Moody and W. E. Vaughan (eds.), A New History of Ireland, iv. Eighteenth-Century Ireland 1691

–1800 (Oxford, 1986), 456.

Ironically, this discontent at British authority can be seen as the subversive application of thoroughly British political languages and arguments. Chapter 2 will show how these languages and arguments were used by Patriots in the era of the American Revolution to develop a powerful critique of British control in Ireland. end p.47



2 Patriotism in the Age of the American Revolution, 1776-1780 Stephen Small Between the outbreak of the American Revolution in 1776 and the achievement of free trade 1

1

The contemporary meaning of this term is discussed in Sect. V of this chapter.

in 1780, the eclectic languages of Irish patriotism evolved into an increasingly strident critique of British political control of Ireland. This chapter charts that process while assessing the impact of events in America on Irish political thought. In Sections I and II the influence of the American Revolution on Irish Patriotism is examined and its ideological importance questioned. Section III shows how Irish ancient constitutional traditions gave Irish Patriots both a sense of shared ‘English’ inheritance with American Patriots as well as a distinctly different understanding of their constitutional position. Section IV shows how these ancient constitutional rights were often merged with natural rights. Section V examines the emergence of commercial grievances as the dominant Patriot language between 1776 and 1780, and Section VI explores its fusion with the Commonwealth tradition among radical Patriots in the late 1770s.

I . AMERICAN INFLUENCE ON IRELAND The American Revolution is often assumed to have profoundly influenced Irish political thinking by inspiring the Patriot campaigns for free trade and legislative independence. 2

2

D. N. Doyle, Ireland, Irishmen and Revolutionary America, 1760–1820 (Dublin, 1981), 152–81.

But many historians of the period describe an ambiguous and divided Irish response that needs careful decoding. As Maurice Bric puts it, ‘Irish assessments of the American Revolution were pragmatic’. He argues that ‘the revolution was ... something about which no stratum of Irish Society was precisely clear and which, each in its own way, related to its own domestic situation’. 3

3

M. J. Bric, ‘Ireland, America and the Reassessment of a Special Relationship, 176O-1783’, ECI II (1996), 88–119.

It is fair to say that the conflict in America, by a variety of means, did significantly affect Ireland. Many Patriots undoubtedly saw similarities in their causes as they both struggled end p.48

against British ‘tyranny’. And it is doubtful whether the British parliament would have granted free trade to Ireland in 1779-80 or legislative independence in 1782 without the British defeats at Saratoga and York-town and the fall of Lord North’s government. If, however, we wish to understand how the American Revolution affected Irish Patriot thought (as opposed to activity) we must distinguish carefully between different kinds of cause and effect and treat Irish pro-Americanism with caution. The most important mechanism by which American events altered Irish attitudes was not direct ideological influence. The perceived economic impact of the American war was far more influential in reshaping Irish attitudes towards fundamental political issues than any straightforward adoption of American political arguments. Ireland had been suffering a short-term economic decline since 1771, 4

4

J. C. Beckett, The Making of Modern Ireland, 1603–1923 (London, 1969), 206.

and the imposition in 1776 of an embargo on Irish exports stretched pre-existing resentment of British restraints on Irish trade to breaking point. The Patriot movement coalesced around demands for ‘free trade’ born out of these commercial grievances, and these demands, in turn, focused attention on the fundamentals of the Irish polity—giving impetus to a wide-ranging discussion of rights, sovereignty, and the very nature of government. In terms of direct ideological impact American influence has been overestimated, but the perceived economic hardship caused by the war could hardly have been more influential. In so far as the economic and the ideological can be separated, the American Revolution seems less important as a direct influence on the way Irishmen thought and wrote about politics than as a catalyst for expressions of dissatisfaction. The example of American rebellion and Patriotic agitation for free trade were, of course, highly compatible, but the sense of affront and injustice caused by the British regulation of Irish trade was far more important than any amount of ideological inspiration from across the Atlantic. As Roy Foster has pointed out, ‘commercial resentment ... accomplished more than any lofty feelings of brotherhood could have done’. 5

5

R. F. Foster, Modern Ireland, 1600–1972 (London, 1988), 242.

However, given the emphasis placed on American influence in the existing historical literature, it would be perverse not to examine the issue. Historians usually analyse three related manifestations of American influence: expressions of support for, and interest in, the American struggle; Irish recognition of the similarities between Irish and American constitutional positions; and the use in Ireland of political PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


arguments and language commonly used in America. The next section will argue that the significance of these expressions of support for the American cause end p.49

generally took second place to Irish concerns over trade and should, in any case, be treated with caution. Section III questions the extent to which Irish thinkers viewed their constitutional relationship to Britain as similar to America’s and shows how their ancient constitutionalism led to serious differences in Irish and American constitutional thinking. The third type of evidence, relating to the similarities between American and Irish political arguments and language, implies that Irish thinkers began to adopt American arguments. This raises many complex issues about the mechanisms of ideological transmission that are difficult to resolve conclusively. Mapping influences and tracing the dissemination of ideas within the broad English-speaking political culture is an inexact science. At times, very similar arguments were used by both American and Irish Patriots, and they both used identical political terms, such as rights, tyranny, property, liberty, virtue, and corruption in very similar ways. 6

6

See Bailyn, The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution , 23–51.

Yet it seems more plausible to assume that both were drawing on common languages of political thought that had been in place for some time than to conclude that Irishmen were drawing extensively on American political rhetoric. The brief history of earlier Irish Patriot and republican thought given in Chapter 1 supports this claim. Of course, none of this disputes the fact that events in America significantly influenced events in Ireland, nor that many Irishmen found American resistance to Britain both laudable and inspirational.

II . IRISH SUPPORT FOR THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION Expressions of support for the former colonists, or censure of British treatment of them, are commonly used to demonstrate the hold of America on Irish minds. 7

7

McDowell, Irish Public Opinion, 39–50.

Maurice O’Connell thinks ‘it was a forgone conclusion that the Patriots would see the colonists’ cause with sympathy and as resembling their own’. He agrees with McDowell that ‘there was widespread sympathy for the colonists’ and even argues that ‘sympathy with the Americans was widespread among the Anglican ruling classes’. 8

8

M. R. O’Connell, Irish Politics and Social Conflict in the Age of the American Revolution (Philadelphia, 1965), 25–8.

There is undoubtedly much truth in this view, and it is not difficult to find good evidence of pro-American sentiment throughout Ireland. As early as 1771 Benjamin Franklin had noted the sympathy of Dubliners for the American cause. In 1775 a letter from Lord Midleton in Cork succinctly stated, ‘We are all end p.50

Americans here except such as are attached securely to the Castle, or papists’. 9

9

National Library of Ireland, MS 52: Lord Midleton to Townshend, 16 Aug. 1775. Quoted in McDowell, Irish Public Opinion, 41.

By 1776 Dublin Patriots, led by James ‘Napper’ Tandy, were vocal in their condemnation of the war. 10

10

See Hill, From Patriots to Unionists, 142–9.

They expressed their support of the Americans through bodies such as the Free Citizens of Dublin, the Dublin Guild of Merchants, and the Common Council of the Corporation. 11

11

See J. Sainsbury, Disaffected Patriots: London Supporters of Revolutionary America, 1769–1782 (Gloucester, 1987), for the analogous support from

London’s ‘middling sort’.

Among Presbyterians in the north sympathy for the Americans was also often strong, partly due to the extensive family links produced by large-scale emigration. Many people in Belfast, in particular, strongly opposed the war, with the staunchest opponents including future United Irishmen. 12

12

R. B. McDowell, Ireland in the Age of Imperialism and Revolution, 1760–1801 (Oxford, 1979), 240–56. See also Curtin, The United Irishmen , 17–18.

Patriot MPs such as Sir Edward Newenham and George Ogle carried this opposition into the Irish parliament, and many newspapers initially took pro-American stances. The Hibernian Journal, for example, vigorously endorsed the American revolutionary principle of no taxation without representation, as the following passage shows. ‘If a man is attacked by another, with intent to rob him of his property, and he shall think, that the Best way to defend himself against such [a] Robber, is to attack him in his Turn, he certainly hath, according PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


to the Law of Nature, and Self-defence, an unquestionable Right to do so.’ 13

13

Hibernian Journal , 8 Apr. 1776.

The numerous petitions, meetings, and public dinners all testify to significant unease over the British government’s struggle with American colonists. Thus, it would be inaccurate to deny that the public opinion was broadly sympathetic to the Americans, but we should recognize that Irish opinion on America was far from monolithic. First, Catholics were divided on their view of the former colonists. The lower classes seem to have supported them and the growing body of Catholic merchants also generally opposed the war, primarily because it disrupted their trade. 14

14

Bric, ‘Ireland, America and the Reassessment of a Special Relationship’, 102.

However, many Catholics were ill disposed to the Americans due to their opposition to the Quebec Act of 1774 (which established Catholicism as a legal state religion in Canada). 15

15

Despite the illegality of Catholics bearing arms, large numbers of them were recruited for American service much to the alarm of many Protestants.

For the Catholic aristocratic elite, distaste for intolerant colonial rebels was a natural reaction that fitted neatly with their cautious policy of supporting the government. end p.51

Secondly, support for the Americans was also variable among Protestants. The Irish Commons rejected Burke’s appeal to act as a friendly mediator and passed an address supporting the king’s belligerent stance by 90 votes to 54 on 10 October 1775. 16

The Journals of the House of Commons of The Kingdom of Ireland, 1613–1800

16

(19 vols., Dublin, 1796–1800), xvii. 10–14.

The Commons also allowed the government to remove 4,000 troops from Ireland to augment the British armies in America. Both of these measures faced significant opposition in the Commons, but they passed nonetheless. After the entry of France into the war in 1778, loyalty to the crown often took precedence over support for the Americans. The initial raison d’être of the Volunteers (the main Patriot vehicle after 1778) was to protect Ireland from an invasion by the traditional enemy, Catholic France. This prospect was worrying to all Protestants and many Patriots distanced themselves from the Americans at this point. For all the Patriot rhetoric about British ministerial misconduct, Ireland remained essentially loyal during the war. Perhaps more important than the numbers who expressed support for one side or the other, however, is the depth and significance of the support. Expressions of support that are not backed up by action or genuine sacrifice are easy to make. Such expressions are not necessarily insincere, but they often reveal little of core political goals and motivations. Hence, while expressions of support for the colonists by eighteenth-century Irishmen often show a genuine sympathy for their American ‘brethren’, they should not necessarily be interpreted as showing that American issues exercised a dominant hold on the Irish mind. The important question is whether Irishmen reflected upon events in America, and, as a result, changed fundamentally the way they thought and wrote about politics. It is far from clear that this was the case in the period between 1776 and 1780. Indeed the reaction was one of indifference among most Irish political writers. Except for foreign reprints, the Irish pamphlet literature of 1775 to 1780 shows very few detailed discussions of the political issues involved in the American crisis, and the language used in these pamphlets provides little evidence that Irishmen were beginning to express their political utterances in a new ‘American’ idiom. With the partial exception of William Steele Dickson’s sermons and Hugh Boyd’s pamphlet discussed below, I have not discovered one pamphlet or political tract written by an Irishman in this period whose primary focus is on the political and constitutional problems of America. Many Irish writers referred to the American war, but few discussed American politics in a systematic way. Detailed analysis of the issues at the heart of the disagreement between Britain and America end p.52

were largely ignored. There was little discussion of imperialism, federalism, representation, taxation, and constitutional rights as they applied to America. Bric asserts that ‘both pamphlets and newspapers largely ignored the theoretical basis of contemporary American Patriotism for the narrower political capital that could be made from berating what Franklin termed “the heavy yoke of [imperial] tyranny” ’

17 17

Bric, ‘Ireland, America and the Reassessment of a Special Relationship’, 105.

O’Connell also casts doubt on the depth of Irish sympathy by admitting that pro-Americanism was ‘expressed mainly by individuals and groups under no obligation to take immediate action or accept responsibility in political affairs’.

18



O’Connell, Irish Politics and Social Conflict in the Age of the American Revolution , 29.

He goes on to express his feeling that ‘from innumerable sympathetic references to the American colonists, one gets the impression that many Irish politicians were more interested in embarrassing Dublin Castle and the British Government than in giving moral support to the Americans’. Perhaps even more revealing is his observation that after free trade was granted the Freeman’s Journal suddenly switched from ‘editorial denunciation of the tyranny of George III... to rejoicing over the news of British victories in America and the West Indies’. 19

19

Ibid. 31.

The Freeman’s Journal was the former mouthpiece of the Dublin Patriot Charles Lucas and ‘the organ of Dublin liberalism’ at the time (Grattan also contributed). It had generally been the most Pro-American of the Irish newspapers before its conversion. We must, therefore, be wary of proclaiming too deep or too simple an identification between the American cause and Irish Patriotism. 20

20


This ambiguous picture of interest and support raises the question of censorship or self-censorship. But this cannot plausibly be used to argue for deeper influence or commitment than is evident in published works. The Freeman’s Journal was not bought offby the government until 1784, and, according to Pollard, censorship was minimal before this date. In the late 1770s, what censorship there was fell almost entirely on the Irish newspapers rather than pamphlets, and it was generally the former that demonstrated the most interest in American events. 21

21

M. Pollard, Dublin’s Trade in Books, 1550–1800 (Oxford, 1989), 16–31.

In any case, censorship did not stop the reproduction in the press of works critical of the government by non-Irishmen such as Paine. Indeed, the ‘Irish’ debate on the crisis itself seems to have been largely conducted by means of a series of American and British pamphlets reprinted in Dublin. 22

22

Among the pro-American pamphlets re-printed in Dublin were: the delegates of the United Colonies’ letter To the People of Ireland (1775); Abbé Raynal,

Sentiments of a Foreigner on the Disputes of Great Britain and America

(1775); Theophilus Philadelphius, A Sequel to Common Sense (1777); and Thomas

Paine, Common Sense (1776). Paine’s work was imported from America and also reprinted in the Freeman’s Journal in 1776. There were also several editions of Burke’s speeches and letters published between 1775 and 1777. At least eight editions of Richard Price’s Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty were published in 1776, and his Additional Observations on ... Civil Liberty and the War with America was published in 1777. The British case was argued in reprinted editions of Josiah Tucker, Letter to Edmund Burke (1775); Ambrose Serle, Americans Against Liberty (1775); John Wesley, Calm Address to our American Colonies (1775); John Roebuck, An Enquiry whether the guilt of the present civil war in America ought to be imputed to Great Britain or America (1776); and Candidus [James Chalmers], Plain Truth: addressed to the inhabitants of America. Containing remarks on a late pamphlet intitled Common Sense (1776).

The number of these testifies to end p.53

a significant degree of Irish interest, but they inspired little significant response from Irish political writers. Those pamphlets that did refer to America usually took one of two forms. A few developed classical republican criticisms of Britain’s tyrannical treatment of America (although even these are primarily a warning to Ireland to protect its own liberties). Many more pamphlets briefly mentioned the economic distress caused by the American war as a precursor to a general discussion of Irish commercial and constitutional rights. In these the American Revolution was often an external irritant of little intrinsic significance for Ireland. Most Irish pamphlets of the period simply did not discuss American issues seriously. One of the few that did was Hugh Boyd’s colourful Letters Addressed to the Electors of County Antrim . This is a good example of how Irish classical republicans could criticize British tyranny towards America. His portrait of a despotic and corrupted Britain, attempting to enslave its colonies and dependent countries, was a call for vigilance firmly in the tradition of Real Whig cautionary tales about the collapse of ancient liberty. Let this country be timely warned. The spirit of despotism is gone forth. Oppression her object, devastation her means, famine, sword, and fire her instruments, even now she ravages the new world. If Heaven ... permit success to the oppressor; and if that mighty continent must sink to slavery, can this little island hope for a happier doom; unless she call forth all her virtue, and exert all her spirit, to deserve and obtain it. Flushed with the false glories of her unnatural conquest, will the power of England spare her passive sister-kingdom, when she has crushed the active and just exertions of her sons.... This unhappy country will then feel, and will lament too late, the mischiefs of her voluntary folly, in abetting the tyranny of the parent-state over her dependencies. For what better name than tyranny can be given to a system of arbitrary extraction, supported by the sword?

23



Hugh Boyd, Letters Addressed to the Electors of County Antrim. By a Freeholder (Dublin, 1776), p. x. Boyd was born in Ballycastle, Co. Antrim in

1746. He attended TCD and published a political paper, The Freeholder , in 1772. On moving to London he became acquainted

end p.54

Boyd’s concern for America was almost certainly genuine, but events in America were used primarily to stimulate Irish public virtue in order to protect Ireland’s own fragile liberty—just as the collapse of Denmark’s ‘gothic’ constitution had been used by Robert Molesworth 80 years earlier. 24

24

See Ch. 1, Sect. II.

Essentially, his rhetorical focus was on Ireland rather than America. Given the traditional tendency of Antrim’s Dissenters to political radicalism, and their family connections to America, this audience was generally more sympathetic to the American cause and more likely to respond to denunciation of British tyranny than the rest of Ireland. 25

25

See R. J. Dickson, Ulster Emigration to Colonial America, 7775–7775 (London, 1966).

Yet Boyd was almost apologetic about burdening his supposedly sympathetic readers with American concerns. He felt the need to make it clear that his discussion had an ulterior, Irish purpose. ‘I have been thus particular in stating the great American question’, he explained, ‘to warn my countrymen of the critical situation of their country.’ 26

26

Boyd, Letters, xix.

It would be unfair to suggest that Irishmen were not troubled by American suffering. William Steel Dickson, the future United Irishman, demonstrated genuine concern for both sides engaged in this ‘civil war’. For a war in which ‘Brother points the fatal Minister of Death against Brother, and Father against Son; and Children imbrue their Hands in their Parent’s Blood’ must exhibit, he argued, ‘more than its natural Horrors’. 27

27

William Steel Dickson, Sermons on the Following Subjects: I. The Advantages of National Repentance, II. On the ruinous Effects of Civil War ...

(Belfast,

1778), 18–19. Dickson, the Presbyterian minister of Portaferry, was educated at Glasgow University in the 1760s when the influence of Francis Hutcheson’s moral and political thought was still strong. John Millar was Professor of Law at the time and would have introduced Dickson to Locke, Montesquieu, and Pufendorf.

Dickson’s criticism of the American war caused him problems and he was denounced as a traitor. 28

28


But even this was not a straightforward pro-American sermon. He was just as concerned with the war’s effect on Ireland and with the general slaughter of fellow Protestants from the ‘British’ world. It was clear to him that ‘we are, already, beginning to feel the dire Effects of that civil Discord which rages on the Continent of America, in almost every branch of our Commerce’. 29

29

Dickson, Sermons, 10.

And ‘should the contest be prolonged’, he warned, ‘America must be ruined; and, in its ruins, we must suffer’. 30

30

Ibid. 19.

Dickson’s concerns with Irish commercial ruin then led him end p.55

directly to fundamental political problems. ‘[D]oes it not appear that we are already suffering, by the Restriction of our Commerce, the Capture of our Vessels, and the growing weight of our taxes; and that, if the present Contest continues, we must suffer, more and more, every day? Should not these Things, then, engage us to enquire into the Source of our Sufferings, and endeavour to have them removed? ’

31 31

Dickson, Sermons, 20

Dickson was at the radical end of Patriot opposition in the pre-1779 period (it is not coincidental that he was also addressing a northern Dissenting audience). But, like Boyd, he also rarely took his eye off his own side of the Atlantic for long. He was more concerned with a diminution of Protestant power generally rather than the success of the Americans specifically. His worry was that the senseless effusion of Protestant blood and the dislocation of the imperial economy would decrease the strength and power of ‘Britain’ (used here, revealingly, to include Ireland). This would leave both Ireland and Britain open to invasion by French and Spanish papists. His concern for the Americans, though heartfelt, is secondary to an apocalyptic and millenarian fear of the catastrophes that this ‘civil war’ might occasion in



the British Isles. Questioning the ideological importance of the American Revolution for Irish Patriots is not saying that Irish men and women were ill informed or uninterested in the revolution. Those historians who have conducted extensive surveys of the newspapers of the period, such as McDowell and O’Connell, confirm that the Volunteer’s Journal, Dublin Evening Post, Hibernian Journal , and especially the Freeman’s Journal contained many reports on America. In the first three years of the conflict (before the granting of free trade and the entry of France to the war) newspapers also regularly allowed space to pro-American arguments, and McDowell detects a blandness in the coverage that reveals ‘a complete lack of enthusiasm’ for the war. 32

32


However, this is not the same as a deep identification with and sympathy for the colonists’ aims. Furthermore, the divergence between newspaper and pamphlet coverage is more apparent than real, and it can be partly explained by the different purpose and function of the two media. Most Irish pamphlets from this period fall into two overlapping groups. They are either specific responses to the most important political events of the day, or more general attempts to summarize, and provide solutions for, underlying political, economic, and social problems. In both cases the energy, effort, and expense involved in producing a pamphlet makes it safe to assume that the subject matter was of significant contemporary importance (or at least was thought to be so by end p.56

the author). The ongoing personal polemics that pamphlets often produced also attest to the depth of feeling that inspired them. Some pamphlets may be attributable to a desire for advancement or recognition, but this is an inadequate explanation for most and an irrelevant one for the many published anonymously or under pseudonyms. The nature of pamphlet production itself, therefore, suggests that few pamphlets were produced that did not concern political issues deemed central to the Irish predicament. This need not be the case with issues covered in the newspapers, which could include topics of superficial significance as well as serious political interest. Thus, coverage of events in America may have been extensive, but popular interest in those events does not entail fundamental changes in political thinking. If this ideological shift had occurred, the most obvious manifestation would be a preoccupation with America in the Irish pamphlet literature. There is limited evidence of such a preoccupation in the late 1770s.

III . ANCIENT CONSTITUTIONALISM: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IRELAND AND AMERICA Similarities in the Irish and American constitutional relationship to Britain are cited as evidence of a common cause, which could not have been lost on both sets of inhabitants. 33

33

Ibid. 40.

The subordinate position of the Irish provincial legislature and the claim of the British parliament to legislate for Ireland certainly bore a structural resemblance to the position of the American colonial assemblies and their relationship to Westminster. Both America (1766) and Ireland (1720) had been the object of Declaratory Acts, which attempted to remove any doubts about the Westminster parliament’s right to legislate for them, and parallels between the two political systems were undoubtedly drawn. At a high level, Irish Patriots would also have shared with the American colonists a feeling that both were part of a greater ‘British’ or ‘imperial’ community that was entitled to basic ‘English’ political rights. This shared political identity drew on many of the themes already mentioned, such as ancient constitutional rights, commerce, and Protestantism, with perhaps a sense of liberty under an English system of common law and representation the most important unifying theme. Jack P. Greene has recently asserted that ‘while Protestantism, social openness, intellectual and scientific achievement, and a prosperity based on trade were all an important part of that identity, liberty, under an English system of law and government, end p.57

composed its principle foundation’. 34

34

J. P. Greene, ‘Empire and Identity from the Glorious Revolution to the American Revolution’, in P. J. Marshall (ed.), The Oxford History of the British Empire,

ii. The Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 1998), 208.

Thus, in a general sense, we should recognize that Protestant Irish Patriots shared an early modern Imperial British identity with American colonists, and indeed, with many Englishmen. However, constitutional resemblances were only skin deep in the eyes of most Protestant Irishmen. We may wish to view late eighteenthcentury Ireland as a colony, but they certainly did not (even if they often claimed their rights as Englishmen in Ireland). For most Irishmen, differences in the status of Ireland and America were ultimately more important than their perceived similarities. Molyneux had set the PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


tone at the end of the seventeenth century. In arguing that Ireland was not a colony, he had asked of the American colonies, ‘do they use the Title of Kings of Virginia, New England, or Maryland?’ 35

35


In 1776 most Irishmen still felt their political position with respect to Britain was significantly different to America’s, and they used a language of ancient rights that had changed little since Molyneux’s day. Among the perceived differences was the belief that Ireland was an ancient kingdom with a rich and significant history of legal and political precedent. Political rights were built into a revered but violated ancient Irish constitution that mirrored the British. Ireland had a parliament of King, Lords, and Commons, as well as a Viceroy and a Privy Council. America was quite simply different. As Arthur Brooke declared in 1775: Law and Reason speak ... that Ireland is not to be compared with Virginia, St. Christopher’s, Nevis, Montserrat, or any other Island or Place in the American Seas or elsewhere, that have been conquered by or planted at the cost of and settled by the People and Authority of the British Nation ... I will content myself with observing that our Case is infinitely more favourable than the Case of the Americans. 36

36

Dr Arthur Brooke, An Inquiry into the policy of the Laws affecting the Popish inhabitants of Ireland... with some Hints respecting America (Dublin,

1775), 125–7.

Even Boyd, who pointed out similarities between the predicament of America and Ireland, distinguished clearly between the constitutional status of the two. America, though a ‘mighty continent’, was only a dependency while Ireland, though a ‘little island’, was still a sisterkingdom. 37

37

Boyd, Letters, p. x.

Brooke was not unsympathetic to the Americans. Indeed he placed the blame for the conflict on English ministers and their double standards concerning ‘English’ rights, but America’s status was simply not comparable end p.58

with Ireland’s. He preferred to see Ireland as a sister-kingdom at the core of the Empire looking out rather than as a colony on the periphery looking in. Ireland should be considered in every point of Interest and Policy as a part of England itself, although possessed of a peculiar legislature of its own; as a principle Foundation stone of the Crown; as a part of the same Rock on which Great Britain itself stands; and as a chief Support of those hands that must manage the Reins by which a vastly extended Empire is to be governed. 38

38

Brooke, An Inquiry , 124.

The reality was, of course, otherwise, despite the desire of many Irish thinkers in this period to be at the heart of the Empire. At best, Ireland was in an uneasy position between metropolis and colony even if it saw itself as in integral part of a greater Britain. Nevertheless a vocabulary and style of argument was established which drew on English constitutional and common law traditions shared throughout the Empire: English birthrights and liberties, the Magna Charta, and the British constitution were just as much the property of Protestant Irishmen as any other subjects of the British crown. Terms such as ‘sister-kingdom’ and ‘the English in Ireland’ were used to reinforce a mythical image of Irish constitutional and political parity with Britain that had only been subverted by British power and wealth. After Molyneux, a well-established legalistic interpretation of Irish history could be wheeled out at the appropriate moment to establish the rights of Ireland. This revolved around the following interpretations of key historical events. The ‘voluntary’ submission of the Irish kings to Henry II in the twelfth century ‘proved’ that Ireland was not a conquered country and that its people were entitled to the same rights as any other subjects of the crown. For William Knox, this submission ‘was a considerable boon to the people of Ireland’. It secured property, law and order, and the jury system by exchanging ‘a mode of government and laws replete with tyranny and oppression, and productive of every enormity, for a constitution framed upon principles of equal right, and for laws which gave them security in their persons, and property in their possessions’. 39

39

William Knox, The State of Ireland (Dublin, 1778), 8–14.

Crucially this submission also demonstrated that Ireland was linked to Britain via the crown only: it had never submitted to the authority of the English parliament. Hence, Brooke expressed a common sentiment when he stated, ‘as to the People of England, they were not Parties to those Transactions between Henry and his Irish subjects, they had no right to interfere, and for this Reason they did not



interfere’. 40

40

Brooke, An Inquiry , 30.

end p.59

The conferral of the Lordship of Ireland on Henry II’s second son, John, while Henry was still king of England was also crucial. It demonstrated that Ireland had originally been created as a separate title that was only united with the English crown because of Richard I’s death and John’s subsequent inheritance of the English throne. The granting of a Magna Charta for Ireland in 1216, the establishment of separate Irish administrative and judicial structures based on the English model, and the calling of Ireland’s first parliament in 1297 were all seen as further indications of Ireland’s separate sovereignty. Statutes and pronouncements of the Irish parliament, such as its conferring the title ‘King of Ireland’ on Henry VIII, and, ironically, Poynings’ Law of 1495, were also used to demonstrate that the Irish parliament, and not the British, was the only body capable of binding Ireland. The usurpation of this right by the English parliament was seen as a relatively recent phenomenon dating from the Stuart period and the English Civil War. For Irish Patriots the Norman yoke of English radicals had become a Stuart yoke. A number of pamphleteers simply reproduced Molyneux’s arguments almost verbatim. Typical is The Alarm, which reiterated Molyneux’s thoughts on conquests, compacts, and voluntary submission, before asserting predictably that ‘the majority of the present possessors of Ireland are the progeny of English adventurers’ and as such they should not be ‘divested of their birthrights as Englishmen, by crossing St. George’s Channel’. 41

41

The Alarm; or, the Irish Spy. In a series of letters on the present state of affairs in Ireland, to a Lord high in the opposition. Written by an Ex-Jesuit

(Dublin,

1779), 51.

The author then expressed his admiration of Molyneux’s ‘very ingenious composition’, which he thought ‘the manual of Irish liberty ... replete with the best sense and justest arguments’. 42

42

Ibid. 53.

A few drew different conclusions from the ancient constitutional model. William Knox saw the introduction of English law as a medieval union in which the Irish ‘became incorporated with the English, and were made one people with them’. For Knox, this was a ‘union, the most entire and perfect that can be conceived’, and he lamented its passing. Unusually, he thought the best way to protect English ‘civilization’ and its constitutional traditions was to let Ireland’s ‘local legislature’ become absorbed by the Imperial parliament. 43

43

Knox, The State of Ireland , I5~i6and59.

Ironically, his views on unionism were close to Molyneux’s but they were not shared by many Irishmen at this time. Some Patriot theorists were becoming weary of ancient constitutionalism by 1779 and a few even thought it inappropriate to the rational, enlightened late eighteenth century. But for most it remained important end p.60

throughout the late eighteenth century, even if used in combination with natural rights, classical republican, or commercial arguments. Most Protestant Irishmen continued to value the long, shared history between Ireland and England which included the possession of English laws and political traditions, and this history continued to support protracted historical and legal commentaries on the bloody and contentious history of Ireland. A surprisingly large proportion of political writing took this form, and it was even given a new lease of life by the Rebellion and the Union debate. Furthermore, it owes nothing to the influence of America and largely served to distance Irish understanding of its constitutional position from an American colonial model. Indeed given the Americans’ perception of their political origins in the more recent colonization of unoccupied wilderness, such a history of native-settler struggle was largely absent from their political theory on the connection between America and Britain. This was another significant difference between Ireland and America. Irish Patriots felt the need to explain their legitimacy in the context of a long history of conquest and struggle; American patriots did not. 44

44

J. G. A. Pocock, ‘Protestant Ireland: The View from a Distance’, in S. J. Connolly (ed.), Political Ideas in Eighteenth-Century Ireland (Dublin, 2000), 225.

Thus, the distinctive language of Irish ancient constitutionalism not only reminded Ireland (if it needed reminding) of the depth of its political, religious, and cultural connections with Britain; it also reminded Protestant Irishmen that their country was a far more divided society than America and much closer to the threat of Catholic, European powers. These dangers within and without inevitably dampened desires to separate from Britain that were given free reign across the Atlantic. In doing so they gave a more cautious, historically-minded bent to Irish Patriotism.



IV . THE ANCIENT CONSTITUTION AND NATURAL RIGHTS An interesting synthesis of this constitutional tradition with Lockean arguments was given by Charles Francis Sheridan (the brother of Richard Brinsley Sheridan). Like a latter-day Molyneux, Sheridan described an ancient constitution based on the Magna Charta, medieval confirmations of the Magna Charta, assertions of the liberties of the people by Charles I, and the Bill of Rights. These could not be infringed by parliament and were to be transmitted to posterity ‘without any derogation’. 45

45

Charles Francis Sheridan, Observations on the Doctrine laid down by Blackstone (Dublin, 1779), 6–7.

He then took issue with Blackstone’s assertions regarding Irish constitutional subordination end p.61

to England. Blackstone had declared ‘The original and true ground of this superiority’ to be ‘the right of conquest: a right allowed by the law of nations, if not by that of nature’. He argued that although Ireland was a ‘distinct kingdom’ with a population ‘for the most part descended from the English’, it was nevertheless a conquered territory that had been planted ‘as a kind of colony’. In consequence Blackstone maintained that ‘as Ireland, thus conquered, planted, and governed, still continues in a state of dependence, it must necessarily conform, and be obliged by, such laws as the superior state thinks proper to prescribe’. 46

46

Sir William Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England (4 vols., Oxford, 1765–9), i. 99–103.

Sheridan disputed the fact of conquest, and then attacked Blackstone’s arguments for British parliamentary sovereignty over Ireland. First, he refuted the general doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty, arguing that Blackstone had misunderstood the true nature of the British constitution. By endeavouring ‘to establish the uncontrolled, absolute, despotic power of parliament’, Blackstone had put himself in opposition to English liberties and natural rights, which, in Sheridan’s view, could not be infringed even by parliament. 47

47

Blackstone, quoted in Sheridan, Observations on the Doctrine laid down by Blackstone , 8.

For Sheridan, these divinely ordained rights ‘are what are commonly called natural rights ... or the birthrights of the people of England; and the full complete possession of these, constitutes liberty’. This liberty inevitably entailed general limits upon the powers of any parliament to govern without consent. Indeed, for Sheridan, ‘the principal aim of society is to protect individuals in the enjoyment of those rights, vested in them by the immutable laws of nature’. Sheridan then pointed out the complacency and sloppiness of Blackstone on this point. For Blackstone himself had asserted that ‘those rights which God and Nature have established, and are therefore called natural rights, no human legislature has power to abridge or destroy, unless the owner shall commit some act that amounts to forfeiture’. 48

48

Sheridan, Observations on the Doctrine laid down by Blackstone , 33. The source of Sheridan’s arguments seems to be a mixture of Locke and Richard

Price. Sheridan would have had easy access to both in Dublin. Locke’s Two Treatises of Government was reprinted in Dublin in the same year, 1779, and Price’s Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty went through at least eight Dublin editions in 1776 and his Additional Observations on ... Civil Liberty were published there in 1777.

As well as putting bounds on the actions of any representative body, Sheridan constructed a case for Irish rights, both individual and national, from Lockean principles. Essentially, he argued that because no individual had the right to invade the natural rights of another, so no government had the right to invade the rights of a government or people of another community. end p.62

This understanding of natural rights became common among Irish Patriots and was used to reject the claims of the British parliament to make laws for a country that had no representatives among its members. 49

49

Ibid., 45–6.

By 1780, Francis Dobbs was using similar arguments to draw conclusions about the Anglo-Irish connection with brutal clarity. There were two, and only two, possible interpretations of Ireland’s political position with respect to Britain. Ireland was either a conquered country or a free one. If conquered, then it had a right to resist. If free, then Britain must allow it those rights needed for freedom. These rights included the complete withdrawal of the British parliament from the affairs of Ireland, which was a perversion of the Irish constitution and the very definition of slavery. Dobbs, also following Locke, thought a man free only if’governed by laws to which he has assented either by himself or his representative’. Conversely, a slave was ‘bound by laws, to which he never assented, and ... at the mercy of a power over which he has no controul’. 50

50

Francis Dobbs, A Letter to the Right Honourable Lord North, on his propositions in favour of Ireland

(Dublin, 1780), 8–9.

Thus the only constitutional link with Britain would be through their shared monarch and the only powers competent to govern Ireland PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2003 - 2011. All Rights Reserved. Under the terms of the licence agreement, an individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use (for details see http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/public/privacy_policy.html). Subscriber: Jilin University; date: 22 September 2011


would be the King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland. William Drennan took a similar line. Ireland and Britain were sister-kingdoms with a common king, and each realm was a distinct dominion with an independent parliament. The assumption of Britain to legislate for Ireland was an innovation of the constitution which infringed royal prerogative and invaded rights to which Ireland was ‘intitled by the laws of God, of nature, and of nations’. 51

51

William Drennan, A Letter to Edmund Burke, Esq.; By birth an Irishman, by adoption an Englishman (Dublin, 1780), 25. The title is a reference to Burke’s

opposition to the free trade concessions of Lord North. Drennan plausibly accuses him of putting his ‘party’ interest be fore those of his country, 3–5.

One blind spot in these arguments was that Patriots conveniently ignored the fact that no British monarch, including George III, had ever shown the desire or inclination to fulfil the role assigned to him by Irish Patriots and act as their king-in-parliament divorced from his role in Britain. The Patriots’ endless repetition of the claim that the King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland were the only powers competent to make laws for Ireland (if not simply a rhetorical device) was a monumental act of self-delusion. 52

52

The most famous statement of this mantra was Grattan’s speech to the Irish Commons on 19 Apr. 1780 formally proposing legislative independence. An

amendment adjourning the question indefinitely was passed 136 to 97. See Beckett, The Making of Modern Ireland , 219–20.

Despite Protestant Ireland’s remarkable loyalty to the end p.63

Hanoverian dynasty, no monarch either visited Ireland during the eighteenth century or demonstrated the slightest desire to act as impartial umpire in disputes between the two kingdoms. The Hanoverian monarchs were spectacularly uninterested in Ireland, especially while it gave them no trouble, and they were more than happy to govern it through the British cabinet and Privy Council. This unwelcome fact was made obvious by the method of appointment for the Lord Lieutenant. By the 1770s, the king’s representative in Ireland was chosen by, and openly responsible to, British ministers. Despite their clear roots in traditional Whig and English constitutional thought, the Patriots’ forthright views on Irish sovereignty entailed serious conflict with British politicians. For many Englishmen did view Ireland as a conquered country, which automatically placed them in conflict with the Patriots. Even those who conceded the point on conquest could find other practical objections to Irish parliamentary independence. Effectively, the Patriots were attempting to detach their king from the British parliament to make him a genuinely imperial monarch presiding over a number of separate ‘English’ peoples. This directly contradicted how most Britons understood the monarch’s place in the constitution, especially since the publication of Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England in 1765. They deemed the king-in-parliament a single entity for legislative purposes and the ultimate location of all sovereignty. It was simply too dangerous (and too reminiscent of the civil wars) to allow the monarch a variety of duties and attachments that could conflict with British interests or act as alternative sources of power and wealth. The stability of Britain and the Empire demanded that the monarch exercise his powers through the Westminster parliament only. 53

53

J. G. A. Pocock, ‘Political Thought in the English-Speaking Atlantic, 1760–1790. Part 1: The Imperial Crisis’, in J. G. A. Pocock (ed.), The Varieties of British

Political Thought, 1500–1800 (Cambridge, 1993), 246–82.

These views coincided with a metropolitan view of Imperial identity that contrasted sharply with the settler ideal of shared ‘English’ rights. Despite protestations from Ireland and America, many Englishmen simply did not feel like equal partners in the Imperial project. This more pervasive view saw the colonies as ‘outposts of British economic or strategic power’ populated by settlers who were subordinate to the British state, not equal partners in liberty. 54

54

Greene, ‘Empire and Identity’, 224.

Furthermore, in Britain, the doctrine of parliamentary supremacy was generally dominant over more populist interpretations in all except radical or liberal Whig circles. Thus, as the Americans had end p.64

recently found, any appeal to the rights of all men, or even all Englishmen, to be governed by laws of their own making ran into difficulties when these rights came into direct conflict with the sovereign wishes of parliament.

V . THE LANGUAGE OF COMMERCIAL GRIEVANCE The language of commercial grievance was the most important expression of Patriot political thinking in the late 1770s. As we have seen, it had roots in Molyneux’s criticisms of the English restrictions on Irish trade and in early eighteenth-century writing on Irish poverty by Berkeley and Swift.

55



See Ch. I, Sect. V.

These concerns remained a matter of debate as the century progressed (despite economic expansion from the 1740s to the 1770s). But with the imposition of the 1776 embargo on Irish exports, the language came into its own. It temporarily dominated political debate and merged with older political languages to give them renewed vigour. In the years from 1777 to 1780 it largely replaced discussion of religious problems and it subsumed the Commonwealth and Country party language that had formed the bedrock of Patriotic opposition. The embargo, which lasted from February 1776 to December 1778, confined the export of Irish provisions (except corn) to Britain and the obedient colonies. It thus disrupted a lucrative cattle trade to France and prohibited exports to America. The embargo also applied to Britain, but it was seen as grossly unfair to Ireland because Britain consumed most of its own provisions whereas the Irish economy was dependent upon their export. The provisioning of troops on their way to America made up for this disruption with regard to most provisions and the embargo’s negative effects may have been more perceived than real. Pork and beef were still smuggled to France ‘with relative ease’, according to Truxes, who argues that, ‘in spite of these inconveniences, the Irish provisioning trade did an enormous business during the American Revolution. Combined military and civilian demand brought full employment and prosperity to the industry.’ The linen trade did suffer, however, and prices for ‘black cattle’ (an inferior kind that were generally used to feed American and West Indian slaves) did fall. Ironically, some economic distress was caused by increases in the price of food caused by this wartime boom. Prices had been low before the embargo and then doubled (or in the case of potatoes, trebled) with the increased military demand. 56

56

T. M. Truxes, Irish-American Trade, 1660–1783 (Cambridge, 1988), 238–48.

The embargo, as the most visible symbol of British interference in Irish trade, was naturally blamed. end p.65

The language of commercial grievance fed on these complaints and its articulation quickly settled into a familiar set of arguments, rhetorical strategies, and patterns of debate. The common starting point was the need to explain how Ireland could be so well endowed with fruitful soils, a mild climate, and excellent harbours and yet still be a poor country. Patriots wrote of the damage done to the Irish economy by the Navigation and Woollen Acts and called for ‘free trade’. Poverty was explained almost entirely by English interference. Supporters of government, on the other hand, blamed the inherent idleness of the Irish people and recognized the right of the Westminster parliament to regulate the mercantile system while asking for concessions to boost Irish trade. Independent minds, as well as calling for free trade, criticized the land-holding system, castigated the damaging economic effects of the Penal Laws, and urged landowners to embark on agricultural improvement. Absentee landlords were demonized and became fair game for anyone with the slightest pretensions to Patriotism. Commercial grievances had always been linked with constitutional issues and by 1779 they became inextricably bound, with irritation at trade restraints leading naturally to a fundamental reappraisal of the Anglo-Irish connection. Indeed, this commercial-constitutional critique encapsulates much of the intellectual content of the Patriot movement before 1780. Anti-English sentiment aroused by the trade restrictions usually, but not always, accompanied these discussions about trade, with hostility towards England ranging from mild irritation to vitriolic condemnation. Ironically, these increasingly vociferous articulations of political rights and Patriotic identity often emerged from the long-held desire to become a free, commercial, civil society on the English model. Such desires naturally led to critiques of the mercantile system and often put Patriots at the forefront of economic thinking. They also resulted in varying, and often unstable, attitudes to Britain and the Empire. Moderate Patriots saw the fate of the two islands as inescapably connected and so had no desire to inflict irreparable damage on the connection by seeking ‘free trade’ at any cost. By 1779, more radical Patriots were less circumspect, and some even began to hint cautiously at separation. The central term in this debate, ‘free trade’, had an ambiguous meaning. It usually meant access to the British and colonial markets on the same terms as British merchants (or at least a radical reduction in the restrictions placed on Irish trade), but it did occasionally mean completely free trade in the Smithian sense. 57

57

D. Lammey claims that free trade in this sense ‘plays no part in any examination of the Irish Free Trade demand’. See ‘The Free Trade Crisis: A

Reappraisal’, ... This is too strong. He is right to point out the essentially mercantilist nature of the movement, but a few pamphleteers were beginning to espouse laissez-faire ideas.

An early call for unrestricted free trade can be seen in end p.66

an anonymous pamphlet from 1775, Observations on the Finances and Trade of Ireland , which anticipates the publication of Smith’s The Wealth of Nations a year later: ‘Let the Manufacturer and Ship-builder, and every other person concerned, be accommodated with whatever he requires, and from whomsoever and whatever country he can procure it cheapest. His labour will be the cheaper, and the



Kingdom will be reimbursed by the Sale of its Manufactures.’ 58

58

Observations on the Finances and Trade of Ireland, humbly addressed to the immediate con sideration of Gentlemen of Landed interest, more particularly

to members of the House of Commons (Dublin, 1775), 14.

The author not only argued for absolute free trade, he also anticipated the minimal state of Smith in calling for a drastic reduction in taxes. In his view, all taxes were ‘highly injurious to Commerce, by either limiting the Demand, or increasing the Expence bestowed upon the Manufacture or Export’. 59

59

Ibid. 16.

Thus, ‘a Trade absolutely exempt from Tax and Restrictions, is the greatest Blessing that a Free People can wish for’. In this laissez-faire world, ‘all Orders of Men, from the Crown to the lowest Artificer, would be relieved by such an arrangement of Finances’. 60

60

Ibid. 44–5.

The author also subverted the traditional distinction between wealth derived from landed property and trade, seeing no conflict between them. The pamphlet had a very modern flavour, even anticipating a free global economy by recognizing the inherent mobility of capital and commercial acumen: ‘let the Landed Gentlemen therefore protect and cultivate the Trader. His Lands are stationary, and derive their value from Trade, but the Trader is free to go where he pleases, and carry with him his Wealth and Art, and reside in that Country where he should be best received.’ 61

61

Ibid. 6–7.

The message for Ireland was clear. To become a modern, successful, commercial society, it must attract and keep manufacturers and traders by low taxes and minimal trade restrictions. Failure to do this would hurt the landed elite as well as Ireland as a whole. The pamphlet was directed primarily at Ireland’s political elite, but the author was aware that his ideals could only be effected with British consent. Hence, he called, politely and naively, for the repeal of the laws restricting Irish trade on the grounds that ‘Great Britain cannot hesitate to repeal such Acts, so far as they relate to Ireland; for it is of no Use to her that we should be bound by them, though it is highly injurious to us’. 62

62

Ibid. 22.

He then expressed the increasingly common argument that free trade for Ireland would also be in the best interests of Britain. end p.67

For ‘a wealthy kingdom would be infinitely a better Neighbour to Great Britain, than a Land of Beggars’. 63

63

Observations on the Finances and Trade of Ireland , 40.

A good early example of commercial grievances inspiring general dissatisfaction with the Anglo-Irish political relationship is found in Commerce not a fit subject for an Embargo (1777). To the anonymous author (an ‘Eminent Barrister, Member of the late parliament’ and self-confessed Patriot) Ireland’s restricted commerce did ‘not deserve the name of a free trade’. 64

Commerce not a fit subject for an Embargo. By an Eminent Barrister, Member of the late parliament

64

(Dublin, 1777), 14.

The embargo was a straightforward attack on the merchant which ‘deprives him of a Part of his Property’ by confining him to a few markets. It had ‘already almost suspended the Provision Trade of IRELAND, and, if continued or repeated, must annihilate this Trade’. 65

65

Ibid. 21.

Such serious effects led the ‘eminent barrister’ to question the embargo’s legitimacy. He concluded that ‘the Embargo is not justified by any positive or written Law; It must derive its Force, if it be valid, from the King’s Prerogative’. Anger at this interference then provoked an attack on both the king and the legitimacy of royal prerogative. The embargo ‘seems to be founded on the meer Power of the Crown, to direct the Provision Trade of IRELAND’. But, for this Patriot, prerogative must be ‘compatible with the acknowledged rights of the people’ and should be used ‘for the Good of the State’ rather than to ‘aggrandize the King’. 66

66

Ibid. 27.

Thus, commercial restraints focused minds on the very foundation of government, leading to damning criticism of the king himself, which was quite daring by the standards of the late 1770s. The damaging use of royal prerogative in the commercial arena was held up against general standards of common good and found wanting. These criticisms implied that the normal system of checks and balances inherent in the ‘British’ constitutional model did not operate in Ireland, calling into question the role of the monarch, the executive and the legitimacy of Ireland’s dependent political position within the



Imperial system of government. Such a damaging prerogative power would not, he thought, be tolerated in England ‘while the Great Courts of Justice at Westminster are open’. The tame submission of his own country ‘seems to be a kind of obedience peculiar to IRELAND’. 67

67

Ibid. 23–5.

Interestingly, for all this criticism of unlawful and unjust royal power the pamphlet contains no criticism of British conduct in America nor support for the American cause. Indeed his only mention of America was to admit ‘that the King might prohibit his Subjects of Ireland to feed his undutiful end p.68

subjects in North America’, while denying the king’s right to ‘prevent his Irish Subjects from sending their Provisions to France, Spain, Portugal, Holland, or to other countries not at war with Great Britain, because possibly these Goods might go from those other Countries to the American Provinces’. 68

68

Ibid. 35–6.

Of course, the above passage implied no denial of monarchical power within its correct limits, nor was there any hint of separatism. In 1777 few, if any, Patriots contemplated either a completely independent Ireland or a republican one. Annoyance at trade restraints had simply provoked a strong affirmation of the rights of the king’s subjects in Ireland to be governed by the rule of law: and these were still seen as ‘British’ rights. The ‘eminent barrister’ asserted that ‘the general Law decrees that British Subjects, except in a few Cases prohibited by positive Laws, may carry their Goods to any Quarter of the Globe, where they may hope to find the best market’. He went on to argue that ‘British Subjects claim the Protection of the Laws as a Right’ (it is clear that ‘British’ here is inclusive of ‘Irish’). Thus, all that was asked for was full participation in the ‘British’ constitutional and commercial system. Effectively the pamphlet is an appeal for equal treatment with England based on shared birthrights. The practical irritation of the embargo inspires the appeal, but the basic axiom underlying the argument is ‘that the unwritten or common Law of ENGLAND, is as much the birthright of the Subjects of IRELAND, as it is the Birthright of Englishmen’. 69

69

Ibid. 38.

This claim to English birthrights was an essential component of the Irish sense of commercial injustice. In 1779 there was an explosion in the number of political pamphlets published in Ireland with the commercial-constitutional connection the dominant theme of nearly all of them. There were, however, articulate voices that refused to identify all of Ireland’s woes with the single factor of British interference. These dissenting opinions were often the defensive voices of a powerful propertied elite with close ties to Britain, but they also reveal quite radical critiques of the system of land-holding and a brave honesty about Irish problems. There had been a strong tradition of Irish self-criticism throughout the eighteenth century. After Swift and Berkeley, scathing denunciations of peasant ignorance or ascendancy laziness were nothing new. Yet in the Patriotic fervour of 1778 and 1779, it took a brave man to locate the root causes of Irish poverty and political subservience in Ireland itself. Some blamed an idle and backward peasantry. 70

70

See Cursory Observations on Ireland. By a member of the Dublin Society (Dublin, 1779).

But this end p.69

criticism in turn inspired stinging rebukes, such as the self-evidently titled, The people of Ireland not a parcel of lazy, incorrigible scoundrels (1779). This self-criticism was a minor but important part of the language of commercial grievance, which revealed a deep anxiety about inherent Irish capacities for commerce. William Knox, for example, compared Ireland unfavourably with America, which had grown from a population of 4,000 in 1620 to surpass Ireland in wealth and rival it in population. He laid most of the blame at the feet of the Irish political elite. ‘To the want of knowledge of the general and combined interests of the empire, in those who have had the direction of the affairs of Ireland since the Revolution, may in a great measure be ascribed the slow progress Ireland has made in population, cultivation, commerce, and wealth, compared with other parts of the British dominions.’ 71

71

Knox, The State of Ireland , pp. vi-vii.

The majority of Patriots, however, placed the blame primarily on Britain. The two best examples of the moderate end of this Patriot discourse of commerce are John Hely-Hutchinson’s cautious The Commercial Restraints of Ireland (1779) and Sir James Caldwell’s more scathing An Inquiry how far the Restrictions laid upon the Trade of Ireland by British Acts of Parliament, are a benefit or disadvantage to the British Dominions in general, and to England in particular (1779). Both exhibit a concern for the well-being of the British-Irish polity as well as sophisticated arguments for free trade. Hely-Hutchinson’s tract is also noteworthy as possibly the first anywhere to make



consistent, annotated, use of the arguments for free trade in the first volume of Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations (1776). HelyHutchinson was a member of the Irish Privy Council and an outrageous place-hunter, but he found no contradiction in supporting free trade while holding government office. 72

72

John Hely-Hutchinson was called to the Bar in 1748, he entered the Irish parliament as MP for Lanesborough in 1759 but spent the majority of his political

career as MP for Cork from 1761 to 1790. After early opposition he became Prime Sergeant in 1762, Provost of TCD in 1774, and then Secretary of State for Ireland and Keeper of the Privy Seal in 1777. Lord North is said to have remarked that ‘if England and Ireland were given to this man, he would solicit the Isle of Man for a potato garden’.

He is a useful reminder of the difficulty of identifying a coherent and well-defined body of Patriot political thought and ascribing it to a unified and well-defined body of people. The tract itself is a lengthy and detailed critique of Anglo-Irish commercial relations as well as an attempt to propose improvements. It points to the Act of 1699 restricting woollen manufacture and export as the most important long-term factor in Irish poverty, 73

73

10 & 11 W. III, c.io, England.

and it argues that the substitution of this trade by the linen trade gave inadequate recompense. Helyend p.70

Hutchinson thought the economic situation had reached a new low in recent years, due to the fall in prices associated with the war, and opined: ‘The present state of Ireland teems with every circumstance of national poverty. Whatever the land produces is greatly reduced in its value; wool is fallen one half in its original price; wheat one third; black cattle of all kinds in the same proportion, and hides in a much greater ... rents are everywhere reduced, in many places it is impossible to collect them.’ 74

74

John Hely-Hutchinson, The Commercial Restraints of Ireland (Dublin, 1779), 4.

As these difficulties actually coincided with good harvests of corn in 1778 and 1779, he concluded that the root of the problem was a collapse in consumer demand due to a lack of purchasing power in the manufacturing and trading sectors of the economy. ‘The manufacturers were not able to buy, and many thousands of them were supported by charity; the consequence was that the corn fell to so low a price that the farmers in many places were unable to pay their rents, and every where were under great difficulties.’ 75

75

Ibid. 77. Hely-Hutchinson’s version of economic trends seems to contradict that of Truxes given above.

The solution was to reinvigorate the Irish economy by the removal of restrictions on its trade. This, of course, did not appeal to British commercial interests who saw Irish manufacturers as a threat. But Hely-Hutchinson drew on Smith to placate British fears of free competition with the low-wage Irish economy. He argued that ‘with the increase of manufactures, agriculture and commerce in Ireland, the demand for labour, and consequently its price would increase’, which implied that differences in wage levels would only be temporary. He then pointed out that because high levels of capital were needed to achieve competitive advantage, Ireland’s relative lack of capital would not only prevent it from seriously challenging Britain’s commercial dominance, but it would also offer excellent investment opportunities for Britain. 76

76

Ibid. 108–11.

Like many other Irish writers, Hely-Hutchinson and Caldwell both express the view that a resurgent Ireland would also benefit Britain. Both made extensive use of the argument that weakening Ireland through commercial restrictions was detrimental to Britain and the Empire as a whole. This approach had obvious tactical advantages, but for Hely-Hutchinson it also reflected a genuine concern for the larger BritishIrish polity. Whatever wealth might be gained by Ireland would be, in every respect, an accession to Great Britain. Not only a considerable part of it would flow to the seat of government, and of final judicature, and to the centre of commerce; but when Ireland should be able she would be found willing, as in justice she ought to be, to bear her end p.71

part in the expences which Great Britain may hereafter incur in her efforts for the protection of the whole British Empire. 77

77

Hely-Hutchinson, The Commercial Restraints of Ireland , 112.

In a similar vein, Caldwell made the benefits to Britain of Irish free trade his primary focus. He wished to show that ‘the restrictions which



England has laid upon the trade of Ireland, with a view to her own particular advantage, have a contrary effect, or at least that they are disadvantageous to the nation, as an aggregate, including England and Ireland’. 78

78

Sir James Caldwell, Bart., An Enquiry how far the Restrictions laid upon the Trade of Ireland by British Acts of Parliament, are a benefit or disadvantage to

the British Dominions in general, and to England in particular (Dublin, 1779), p. v.

He too decried the restriction of the woollen manufacture and export, not least because this had led to large-scale smuggling of raw wool to France and Spain. Many foreign wool manufacturers needed British or Irish wool to mix with their own and so better prices could be got for smuggled Irish wool in France than in England. Thus, the restrictions not only impoverished Ireland, they unwittingly augmented the power of England’s natural enemies by allowing them to compete with English woollen exports. 79

79

Ibid. 23–8.

This smuggling culture also caused a shift from arable to pastoral farming which, according to Caldwell, depopulated and impoverished the country, increased taxes, and raised the price of bread. By depriving the poor of employment, he argued, it ‘discourages industry, promotes idleness and debauchery, disposes the common people to insult government, sows the seeds of rebellion, and quenches humanity, by making violence, and, in some cases, murder, necessary to self-defence’. Caldwell demonstrated no desire to weaken the link between Britain and Ireland, but his rhetoric reveals a deep anger at the condition of Ireland that he obviously blamed on the British government rather than the Irish people. ‘It is as cruel and as vain to expect that the people of Ireland should abstain from smuggling wool’, he declared, ‘as to expect that a man should drown contentedly, because he cannot come on shore, without trespassing upon the ground of him that thrust him into the water.’ 80

80

Ibid. 28.

Hely-Hutchinson’s criticisms of British interference were more moderate in tone and directed ‘not to the passions of the multitude, but to the wisdom, justice and generosity of Britain’. 81

81

Hely-Hutchinson, The Commercial Restraints of Ireland , 232.

He had no desire to see commercial discontent escalate into separatist or revolutionary agitation at a dangerous moment for the empire. In his opinion ‘it would be improper, in the present state of the British Empire, to agitate disputed questions that end p.72

may inflame the passions of men’, and he hoped that ‘no such questions ever arise between two affectionate sister kingdoms!’ 82

82

Ibid. 164.

It is, perhaps, difficult to ignore awkward and divisive questions given his earlier analysis and his view that ‘every man of discernment who attends to the facts which have been stated, would conclude, that there must be some political institution in this country counteracting the natural course of things, and obstructing the prosperity of the people’. 83

83

Ibid. 85.

But criticism of the British parliament for enacting laws restricting Irish trade is muted, and the issue is not, for him, simply one of AngloIrish antagonism. Indeed, Hely-Hutchinson was concerned for the welfare of the larger British polity and not just Ireland. This point is vital. Except for the more extreme elements of Irish Patriotism, the well-being of Ireland was usually tied to the well-being of Britain rather than something to be achieved at its expense: Irish Patriotism is compatible with British success for most Patriots at this point. Admittedly Hely-Hutchinson’s attachment to the Castle makes him a somewhat dubious Patriot, but his position on this issue is typical of most late 1770s Patriots. Hely-Hutchinson envisaged a proud, largely self-governing, and commercially successful Ireland as a vital component of a larger BritishIrish polity and at the centre of the Empire. This model of the Anglo-Irish relationship is obviously incompatible with vicious Irish attacks on the Anglo-Irish connection, especially if the health of this connection is seen as vital to the well-being of the Empire. However, the model can withstand quite damning attacks on selective elements of British policy and British commercial self-interest that are not conducive to the common good—providing these attacks are not directed at Britain as a nation. The safe objects of Irish invective are the self-interested elements within this polity, such as British merchants, or more abstractly (and ironically) commerce itself. Hely-Hutchinson follows Smith in praising the general public benefits of competition over monopoly and urges the government not to put the private interests of British merchants above the greater good of the Empire. This allows the Patriotic cause of free trade to seem both progressive and in the general public good of the larger British polity, rather than simply in the interest of Ireland. It was merely a rational application of Smithian economics that would be beneficial to both countries. For Caldwell, commerce was an uncomplicated political good. It was the natural result of modern society and advances in art and science.



Indeed it was absolutely necessary for subsistence, prosperity, and defence. Even the production of luxury items was to be encouraged, not for any intrinsic end p.73

value, but in order to provide employment. Caldwell had few worries concerning the massive social upheavals that modern civil society would entail. He recognized that the production of life’s necessities depended on agricultural work that could be performed efficiently by a relatively small number of people on land owned by an even smaller number. Therefore a self-sufficient system of producers and consumers could exclude the majority unless artificial wants were to be introduced to occupy surplus labour. 84

84

Caldwell, An Enquiry , I-IO.

Caldwell had a modern, almost Benthamite, utilitarian view of commercial society with no classical republican worries about private interest. For this Patriot, unrestricted commerce was the route to Irish happiness. Happiness in a political view ... is the enjoyment which arises from the gratification of natural wants ... as the public is nothing more than an aggregate of individuals, public happiness must be in proportion to the number of individuals who possess these advantages, and the degree in which they are possessed. Public wealth is a general ability to procure these advantages; and trade is the cause and medium of public wealth. 85

85

Ibid. 35.

However, Hely-Hutchinson’s call for free trade coexisted somewhat uneasily with a thinly veiled disdain for ‘trading people’, who ‘have ever aimed at exclusive privileges’. He asked the British government, ‘Would you consult persons employed in the trade? they have in one respect an interest opposite to that of the public. To narrow the competition is advantageous to the dealers, but prejudicial to the public. ’

86 86

Hely-Hutchinson, The Commercial Restraints of Ireland , 122–5.

Hely-Hutchinson’s main theme was the promotion of Irish free trade in opposition to the monopolizing, self-interested spirit of British merchants. But there was also an uneasy undercurrent that distrusted the commercial spirit itself. This unease locates Hely-Hutchinson firmly in the eighteenth-century debate concerning the compatibility of public virtue and private interest and reveals a dilemma at the heart of Irish Patriot aspirations. Unfettered commercial spirit may be the necessary means to Irish prosperity, but in Britain it had led the government to selfishly restrict Irish trade to kill off competition. Thus, in becoming a successful commercial nation, Ireland might cast off civic virtue and develop the very attitudes and mentalities that partly inspired England to control and subjugate it. end p.74

VI . MIXING THE COMMERCIAL, THE CONSTITUTIONAL, AND THE CLASSICAL REPUBLICAN In 1779, Patriots developed a powerful rhetoric that combined commercial, constitutional, and classical republican languages. 87

87

See Ch. 3, pp. 83–102, for the influence of classical republicanism in the early 1780s.

From the mix, some increasingly radical pamphlets began to emerge. The most important were three anonymously published works: Henry Flood’s A Letter to the People of Ireland , Dr Frederick Jebb’s Letters of Guatimozin on the Affairs of Ireland , and Joseph Pollock’s Letters of Owen Roe O’Nial . This strategy of mixing classical, commercial, and constitutional critiques made perfect tactical sense for a practical rhetoric of opposition, but it could entail some ideological difficulties-primarily due to classical republicanism’s complex but largely negative attitude towards commerce. Pocock has argued that the classical aversion to the corrupting influence of commerce was replaced by an alliance between urban commercial property and landed property in a joint opposition to government corruption and financial manipulation. 88

88

Pocock, Virtue, Commerce and History , 259.

In a similar vein, Brewer draws vital distinctions between different kinds of commercial agent: between the large speculators and government military contractors benefiting from the expanding military state, and the smaller tradesmen and manufacturers who paid for it through customs and excise duties. Thus, it made sense for the commercial middling sorts to oppose the uncertain system of credit, speculation, and corruption the government had created, even if the archaic agrarian Country rhetoric they used sounded more natural in the mouths of the landed gentry. 89

89

J. Brewer, ‘English Radicalism in the Age of George III’, in J. G. A. Pocock (ed.), Three British Revolutions: 1641,1688, 7776 (Princeton, 1980), 323–67.



Similar dynamics operated in Ireland, where industrious urban commercial and professional sorts under the guidance of Lucas effectively claimed to be the modern repositories of civic virtue. 90

90

That ‘civic’ virtue should be claimed for city dwellers should not be surprising. In addition to the classical and Renaissance tradition of free city-states, Lucas

could also draw on the indigenous practices of guild and corporation to portray the good burghers of Dublin as independent bulwarks against executive corruption. See J. Hill, ‘Corporatist Ideology and Practice in Ireland, 1660–1800’, in S. J. Connolly (ed.), Political Ideas in Eighteenth-Century Ireland (Dublin, 2000), 64–82.

But such sophistication is rarely needed to explain the contemporary Irish pamphlet literature. In the heat of the moment, most Patriot pamphleteers simply did not perceive a contradiction between their Country critiques of British end p.75

commercial self-interest and their praise for commerce in general. Almost all pamphlets saw increased Irish commerce as an unqualified good, even if they had deeper worries about the intrinsic desirability of commerce and its compatibility with public virtue. This is hardly surprising. Agonizing over the possible long-term drawbacks of commercial society would have been somewhat perverse with Ireland struggling under restricted trade and widespread poverty: worries about the corrupting effect of luxury and self-interested manufacturers on Irish public virtue could come later. Furthermore, the volatile political environment of the free trade agitation lent itself to clear, forceful rhetoric rather than anxious classical republican warnings about the dangers of commercial society. If Irish Patriots were concerned with the corrupting effect of luxury and commerce, they could direct such criticisms at Britain rather than Ireland. There were some Patriot voices (notably Henry Flood) who worried about the effect of self-interest and luxury on Irish virtue, but even these used classical republican attacks on British corruption alongside vigorous appeals for Irish free trade. It seems that Patriots quite happily used whatever languages of opposition were at hand to rouse the spirit of the nation. Flood’s A Letter to the People of Ireland does articulate these tensions, alongside the full range of Commonwealth and Country rhetoric. The standing army on the Irish establishment, for example, was a burden that merely served the Empire of Great Britain and corrupted the constitution of Ireland. 91

91

[Henry Flood], A Letter to the People of Ireland on the expediency and necessity of the present associations in Ireland in favour of our own

Manufacturers with some cursory observations on the effects of a Union (Dublin, 1779), 14.

The large pension list of Ireland also reflected the fact that ‘the ordinary revenues of the kingdom had been grossly misapplied, for a course of years in a scandalous system of corruption and prodigality, in the civil and military establishment’. 92

Ibid. 22.

As a remedy, balanced government of an almost Machiavellian sort was advocated by Flood. 93

92

93

For Machiavelli, balanced government emerged from tension and violent struggle between the social classes, rather than from harmony or cooperation. If

the scales reached equilibrium, they did so under constant stress, with the ambitions and interests of the people, prince, and nobles invariably pulling in different directions.

The spirit of the people (‘a thing to be dreaded’) should act as a check on ‘the influence of the Crown’, which ‘shall stand in awe of the clamours of the people’. This popular power should be checked, in turn, by a virtuous political class. Flood thought that ‘the people of Ireland have been always ready to submit to the authority of men of rank, provided they are also persons of public character’. end p.76

Unfortunately, ‘the fraudulent moderation of a pusillanimous gentry’ had undermined this class and hence the tripartite balance as well. 94

94

Ibid. 46–8.

Flood saw popular agitation, within limits set by political leaders such as himself, as the check on the executive that could maintain liberty. However, unlike many other Patriots, Flood argued that commerce was incompatible with liberty and with all the finer human feelings, including sympathy or sentiment for other nations and peoples. Thus, he not only questioned the Patriot enthusiasm for commerce, he attacked the idea of mutual Anglo-Irish affection at the heart of moderate Irish Patriotism- providing a stinging explanation for British control of Ireland. For Flood, ‘there is no such thing as political humanity; or, if the sentiment did exist, it is not likely to be found in a country of commerce’. For ‘the habits of barter ... very much contract the political mind’. Thus, ‘jealousy, monopoly, and pride, combining in the soul of a commercial Empire, exclude everything, except industry, punctuality, and that species of probity which is necessary for credit’.

95



Ibid. 5–6.

Praise of British domestic liberty, which many (such as Montesquieu) thought was intimately connected with England’s status as a commercial nation, was sometimes used by moderate Patriots to appeal to England’s better nature. But for Flood, it was clear that Britain has acted tyrannically towards its colonies and connected countries precisely because it was a commercial nation rather than in spite of that fact. Many British Real Whigs worried about the consequences for liberty of a nation ruled by self-interest because they felt it led to decay from within or the imposition of tyranny from without. But few would have feared that commercial spirit would lead to tyrannical treatment of neighbouring nations. For Flood, Ireland was caught between British ministers who wanted higher revenues from Ireland, and the interests of ‘Manchester’, which did not want competition from Irish industry. As a result, Flood even claimed to prefer an absolute monarchy for Ireland, which would ‘only plunder the individual and the nation of part of their acquisition’, to this ‘mercantile empire, which began by taking from the connected country her Trade, [and] will soon proceed to make very bold attempts upon her liberty’. 96

96

Ibid. 7.

This ironical inversion of the classical republican norm became a common argument among Patriots wishing to point out the hypocrisy of liberty-loving British parliamentarians. However, Flood did not wish for a return to an idyllic, agrarian past. He knew that ‘manufacture is necessary to feed and multiply the race of man and an export trade is necessary for this manufacture’. 97

97

Ibid. 37.

Hence, the embargo, ‘which lay upon this country for three end p.77

years like a curse, and is now felt in its effects like a plague!’, was just as onerous for Flood as any other Patriot. 98

98

[Flood], A Letter to the People of Ireland, 11 .

Concerns over commerce did not stop his calls for free trade. Frederick Jebb’s pithy pamphlet also drew on constitutional, Commonwealth, and commercial arguments to produce a stinging critique of British control of Ireland. In his Letters of Guatimozin , he set out to examine ‘by what means any one nation may become entitled to controul over another’, and ‘by what right England claims this authority over Ireland’. He argued that all sovereignty of one nation over another is ‘DIRECT NON-SENSE’ unless by consent or conquest. If it is by consent, then this cannot alienate ‘the liberty of their posterity’ and ‘must be for the advantages of the governed, else it is ipso facto void’. If it is by conquest, even if this is just, it still does not ‘constitute a right in the conquerors over the liberty & property of the conquered’. Their lives ‘may no doubt be fairly taken away; but their crime will not forfeit the liberty of their posterity, which is inalienable; nor their property, which nature appointed to sustain their unoffending children’. 99

99

[Dr Frederick Jebb], The Letters of Guatimozin on the Affairs of Ireland (Dublin, 1779), 1–4 .

To counter English claims to conquest, Jebb resorted primarily to historical arguments. Ireland ‘consented’ to be ruled by Henry II and was given a ‘modus’ by him to regulate its affairs and a separate king in the form of John. Furthermore even a conquest would have given no right to the English parliament and no more power to the king than he had in England, who would in any case have an obligation as a just conqueror to repair the damage caused by the conquest. The perversion of this idea of separate kingdoms had largely occurred since 1641 in Jebb’s view. 100

100

Ibid. 7–13.

But the Irish constitution had been corrupted ever since Poynings’ Law deprived it of the right of originating its own laws, and its parliament now ‘resembles much more the French Parliament into which the King’s edicts come down to be registered before they become laws’.

101

101

Ibid. 23.

The influence of both Locke and Molyneux in this analysis is clear, and in this respect it is very similar to many other Patriot tracts. But Jebb was also developing a more radical, quasi-separatist position that is quite new. There was a new sense of anti-English sentiment bordering on the separatist in his confession ‘that, as an Irishman, I feel considerable gratification in the checks, which the progress of England’s usurpations hath received in America’. 102

102

Ibid. 19.

This statement obviously caused great offence at the time, as in


Political Thought in Ireland 1776-1798 ,Republicanism, Patriotism, and Radicalism Small, Stephen Print publication date: 2002, Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: January 2010 Print ISBN-13: 978-0-19-925779-9, doi:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199257799.001.0001 end p.78

a later letter he refers back to the statement and refuses to retract it. Equally startling is the attack on the British constitution, even if this is primarily for rhetorical purposes. Jebb boldly declares it ‘the duty of a virtuous Irishman to wish to see the British constitution destroyed, and the King of England absolute: because the condition of an Irishman would be bettered by the change’. Echoing Flood’s argument, this duty arises primarily from the perverted state of the Irish executive. Behold, what is our executive power! It is a MONSTER, consisting of the King of Ireland, and the Parliament of Great Britain! Can any Irishman hesitate in a choice between being a colonist of an absolute King of England, and remaining a subject of such a perverted government as is described above?... A people subject to the will of an absolute Prince, have nothing to gratify but the passions of one man; and colonies at a distance from such government are, in general, mildly administered. But who can undertake to please so many masters as we have got in the Parliament of Great Britain, whose interest consists in the means of our poverty and distress! 103

103

Ibid. 22–8.

Jebb did not advocate rebellion but he thought that Ireland had the right to its own free legislature and the means to force change by uniting ‘in the plain system of consuming, EXCLUSIVELY, the manufactures of this country’. 104

104

Ibid. 16.

The Association movement he is referring to, which refused to buy or import British goods, was symbolic of this union of classical, constitutional, and commercial thinking: it combined unity and public spirit with the commercial anger generated by British interference with Irish rights. For the British government, the movement ominously resembled earlier American activities, and it naturally saw them as far more than a mere focus for economic discontent. Many Patriots would have found Jebb’s prescriptions quite radical, and he felt the need to reassure Ireland that British retribution would not follow ‘independence’. In the first place, he argued, it was unlikely that the king would order an invasion of ‘his own people’ by the English after the lessons of the American war. As for sanctions, Ireland had sufficient resources of its own and was, in any case, used to a lack of trade and manufactures due to ‘a malicious industry on the part of Great Britain, by wicked management, to preclude Ireland from her natural claim to prosperity in agriculture, manufactures, and fisheries; the GREAT AND ONLY SOURCE OF NATIONAL WEALTH’. 105

105

Ibid. 35.

For Jebb, the goal, if not complete separation, was to achieve free trade and self-rule. He was so piqued by Britain’s destruction of Irish trade that he was prepared to endure the short-term consequences of even greater end p.79

economic disruption to achieve a long-term political solution. He also tried to break down the taboo surrounding discussions of independence by scathing references to timid Irishmen ‘who, alarmed at the consequences of investigating our independent national rights, as IRISHMEN, would willingly stop all enquiry, by the interposition of the single cabalistical word REBELLION’. 106

106

[Jebb], Letters on the Affairs of Ireland , 5.

Jebb’s iconoclasm was a conscious attempt to refashion the terms and language of the debate to release discussion from the weight of fear, history, and tradition. Interestingly, Jebb showed no signs of classical republican distrust of commerce. Like most other Patriots, in the headlong rush for free trade he either ignored the possible drawbacks of a polity motivated primarily by commercial spirit, or simply failed to realize that the selfishness of English manufacturers may have been an inevitable consequence of that commercial spirit. But British selfishness did form an important part of the most radical and separatist pamphlet produced in 1779. Joseph Pollock’s Letters of Owen Roe O’Nial built on the same foundations used by Flood but went one step further to construct a genuine appeal for full independence. Starting from the basic premiss that ‘political bodies ... act uniformly from the narrowest kind of selfishness, and are totally incapable of a steady or uniform principle of generosity’, 107

107

[Joseph Pollock], The Letters of Owen Roe O’Nial (Dublin, 1779), 7.

he then made extensive use of the idea that free governments treat their provinces worse than despots. ‘Free’ Athens was the tyrant of Sicily; ‘free’ Americans tyrannize the Indians; ‘the Spartans have had their Helots, and the English HAVE THEIR IRISH!’ 108

108

Ibid. 12.



The key to this idea (a common one among Patriots) was the notion that individual Englishmen saw individual Irishmen as their personal subjects. He argued that ‘the free citizen of a free state will hardly put his subjects in the province on a footing with himself’. 109

109

Ibid. 10.

A despotic king seems mild and liberal in comparison. Locke’s arguments ‘that no nation can by conquest... acquire a right of perpetual dominion over another’ were used alongside vigorous attempts to remove widespread Irish doubts about its capacity for liberty. 110

110

Ibid. 13–14.

In contrast with more moderate Patriots, Pollock tried to show that Ireland was not ‘bound by any ties of duty, gratitude, or honour, to remain in subjection to the parliament of England’. 111

111

Ibid. 27.

England was, in any case, at the beginning of a classical republican cycle of decay and decline, partly as a result of the American war. ‘Her fullness of time has come’, thought Pollock, who urged his countrymen to seize the moment. ‘We cannot prevent her sinking. Shall end p.80

we allow her to grasp us in her dying convulsion, and pull us with her to the bottom?’ 112

112

Ibid. 47. See Ch. 3, Sect. V, for Patriot use of theories of cyclical decay.

Pollock not only categorically rejected union (which would only result in a corrupted Irish representation being swallowed up by an already corrupt British parliament), he also thought the Associations, although praiseworthy, would not be enough. He came out strongly for independence and even went as far as hinting that Ireland might be helped to independence by foreign powers. If France and Spain would cross the Atlantic ‘for their own interest and for the humiliation of England. Will a few leagues terrify them when their scheme is so near arriving at almost unhoped for perfection?’ Pollock, perhaps disingenuously, assured his readers that ‘loyalty ... finds in Ireland its happiest soil’, but this ‘Personal attachment to the King of Ireland’ was also ‘the cord which binds us to our burden, and furnishes to the British people the occasion of loading us without bounds or mercy’. The implication was clear. If the king continued to leave Ireland ‘at the mercy of a British Parliament’, it may be necessary to accept help from abroad. In which case, Pollock argued, ‘the worst that could happen to us would be to change our masters’. 113

113

Ibid. 21–2.

Pollock’s suggestion of an independent Irish nation was very advanced for his day. Almost no Patriots advocated genuine separatism at this time, but Pollock is important for openly articulating the concept. He also put forward a remarkably modern prototype of a pluralistic and diverse Irish commercial society. His admiration for Switzerland, Holland, and Pennsylvania, which were praised for their religious toleration as well as their ability to throw off the yoke of powerful foreign empires, is an indication of his inclinations for free trade and toleration. Indeed it could be argued that his vision of Ireland with a ‘free and universal trade’ was also an emulation of Britain, but he went one step further. He thought ‘that nation is most likely to be great, powerful and happy, which finds political and civil moderation necessary to its very being. Where there are no sects or parties, I may venture to say there cannot be sense, science, liberty, or commerce.’ 114

114

Ibid. 25.

For Pollock, liberal commercial society is not a goal to be achieved in spite of Ireland’s religious and ethnic divisions. Commerce, liberty, and indeed happiness can be best achieved in the dynamic environment of a divided, yet tolerant, society. Within a few months Pollock had been granted half of his wishes. Free trade was conceded by Lord North and the British parliament in a series of end p.81

measures in early 1780. 115

115

The main act was 20 Geo. III, c. 10.

The government’s troubles in America, the vigorous activity by Grattan, Flood, Yelverton, and the other Patriot MPs in the Irish parliament, and the intense public pressure from large-scale demonstrations and conventions by the Volunteers had all contributed to its passage. But passions had been raised so high that most Patriots now thought Ireland must achieve legislative independence as well as free trade before it could develop the free, commercial society they desired. The next chapter will examine how the political languages



explored so far, and in particular classical republicanism, developed into the quasi-separatist Patriotism of 1780-2. end p.82


Oxford Scholarship Online: Political Thought in Ireland 1776-1798

Small, Stephen

Political Thought in Ireland 1776-1798 Print ISBN 9780199257799, 2002 pp. [81]-[85]

we allow her to grasp us in her dying convulsion, and pull us with her to the bottom?’112 Pollock not only categorically rejected union (which would only result in a corrupted Irish representation being swallowed up by an already corrupt British parliament), he also thought the Associations, although praiseworthy, would not be enough. He came out strongly for independence and even went as far as hinting that Ireland might be helped to independence by foreign powers. If France and Spain would cross the Atlantic ‘for their own interest and for the humiliation of England. Will a few leagues terrify them when their scheme is so near arriving at almost unhoped for perfection?’ Pollock, perhaps disingenuously, assured his readers that ‘loyalty ... finds in Ireland its happiest soil’, but this ‘Personal attachment to the King of Ireland’ was also ‘the cord which binds us to our burden, and furnishes to the British people the occasion of loading us without bounds or mercy’. The implication was clear. If the king continued to leave Ireland ‘at the mercy of a British Parliament’, it may be necessary to accept help from abroad. In which case, Pollock argued, ‘the worst that could happen to us would be to change our masters’.113 Pollock’s suggestion of an independent Irish nation was very advanced for his day. Almost no Patriots advocated genuine separatism at this time, but Pollock is important for openly articulating the concept. He also put forward a remarkably modern prototype of a pluralistic and diverse Irish commercial society. His admiration for Switzerland, Holland, and Pennsylvania, which were praised for their religious toleration as well as their ability to throw off the yoke of powerful foreign empires, is an indication of his inclinations for free trade and toleration. Indeed it could be argued that his vision of Ireland with a ‘free and universal trade’ was also an emulation of Britain, but he went one step further. He thought ‘that nation is most likely to be great, powerful and happy, which finds political and civil moderation necessary to its very being. Where there are no sects or parties, I may venture to say there cannot be sense, science, liberty, or commerce.’114 For Pollock, liberal commercial society is not a goal to be achieved in spite of Ireland’s religious and ethnic divisions. Commerce, liberty, and indeed happiness can be best achieved in the dynamic environment of a divided, yet tolerant, society. Within a few months Pollock had been granted half of his wishes. Free trade was conceded by Lord North and the British parliament in a series of end p.81

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measures in early 1780.115 The government’s troubles in America, the vigorous activity by Grattan, Flood, Yelverton, and the other Patriot MPs in the Irish parliament, and the intense public pressure from large-scale demonstrations and conventions by the Volunteers had all contributed to its passage. But passions had been raised so high that most Patriots now thought Ireland must achieve legislative independence as well as free trade before it could develop the free, commercial society they desired. The next chapter will examine how the political languages explored so far, and in particular classical republicanism, developed into the quasi-separatist Patriotism of 1780-2. end p.82

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3 Patriotism, Classical Republicanism, and the Volunteers, 1780-1782 Stephen Small

Flushed with the success of the free trade agitation, many Patriots turned their attentions to legislative independence between 1780 and 1782. This chapter analyses the nature of their thought in these years, examining the role of classical republicanism in Patriot rhetoric and showing how a political language common to radicals, patriots, and opposition Whigs across the English-speaking world was especially resonant in Ireland. Particular attention is paid to the use of classical republicanism in the construction of the Volunteers as civic heroes. But other key classical republican themes are also analysed, such as vigilance, fear of standing armies beyond parliamentary control, and historical models of cyclical decay. The later part of the chapter will then discuss the fusion of classical and commercial arguments in Patriot thought before exploring the critiques of the Volunteers that began to emerge from a conservative Patriot perspective.

I . THE CLASSICAL REPUBLICAN THEORY OF LIBERTY The classical republican model of martial spirit and balanced government influenced Patriots profoundly. It became particularly important for their understanding of how the Volunteers had changed Irish history, and it continued to influence them into the 1790s. At the heart of classical republicanism was the need for citizens to be constantly aware of the forces that threatened liberty. These took a number of forms, but behind them all were the tyrannical and self-interested tendencies of rulers. Charles Francis Sheridan’s A History of the Late Revolution in Sweden (1778) was typical of a genre of classical republican morality tales warning of these dangers. It described the coup d‘état of Gustavus III in 1772, which he had witnessed as the secretary to the British Envoy in Sweden. Sheridan saw the coup as part of ‘the present almost general http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p025_print.html（第 2／4 页）2011/9/22 18:56:18


subversion of public liberty throughout Europe’. For Sheridan, it ‘furnished but too striking and melancholy a proof of the numerous, and as it should seem irresistible causes, which end p.83


conduct men into a state of political slavery’.1 The basic model is clear. Liberty was fragile and ‘a free people may often be lulled into a false security, with respect to their liberties’. As a result, the few remaining balanced, or Gothic, constitutions were either under threat or already extinguished.2 In Europe, Switzerland and Holland were the only other rays of hope. Sweden had succumbed just as its neighbour Denmark had eighty years earlier. Poland and most of the Italian city-states had gone the same way, and the few traces of constitutional liberty left to France, such as its parlements, were under threat from monarchical despotism. For Colbert had made ‘the destruction of the small remnant of the liberties of that kingdom ... one of the chief objects of a long administration’.3 Like all other classical republicans, Sheridan wished to know how ‘nations once possessed of the most independent spirit, and the most enthusiastic love of liberty, should afterwards have degenerated into the tame subjects of arbitrary power’. In his view there were four causes. First, envy or ambition could upset the balance between the people, nobles, and monarch. Secondly, Catholicism, ‘which claimed and obtained the most absolute empire over the minds of mankind’ had been used by monarchs to increase their power. Thirdly, standing armies ‘fixed the authority of the sovereigns on so firm a basis as to render any resistance to it from the nobles and the people, altogether ineffectual’. And fourthly, ‘luxury and love of ease, consequent upon the introduction of commerce and the arts and sciences ... must necessarily have greatly diminished that martial spirit for which they had been before distinguished’.4 These arguments were hardly new and could have been written by Molesworth, Harrington, or even Machiavelli, but they were no less resonant for late eighteenth-century Irishmen. Indeed, the danger of ambition for balanced government, the superiority of Protestantism over Catholicism, the abhorrence of standing armies, and the virtues of martial spirit were at the heart of Patriotism. Nowhere was this more evident than in the rhetoric surrounding the Volunteers. end p.84


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‘Can there be a Subject more interesting to Irishmen, than that which now induces me to take up the Pen?’5 The first line of Dobbs’s Thoughts on Volunteers clearly demonstrates their centrality to Irish politics in 1780, but this importance was a recent phenomenon. Most Volunteer units were only established in the spring and summer of 1778 to protect Ireland from a French invasion.6 By the end of 1779 they numbered an estimated 40,000.7 In a country at war and denuded of troops, such a body of men outside the normal apparatus of state control immediately became an important political force. Initially, the Volunteers were neither an elite group nor a popular body in the modern sense. They were composed of the solid, property-owning, middling Protestants of Ireland: the professionals, merchants, and substantial farmers whom Grattan described as the armed property of the nation.8 This social composition did not preclude radicalism, as many of the Ulster corps demonstrated, but it could not be called popular. The expense of arms and uniforms, and the time involved in military exercises, usually prevented the urban poor, agricultural labourers, and poorer tenant farmers from participating. Leadership often came from the landed gentry or the wealthy commercial classes, and included leading Patriot MPs such as Henry Grattan, Henry Flood, Barry Yelverton, and William Brownlow, as well as peers like the Earl of Charlemont and the Duke of Leinster. In a symbiotic relationship, Volunteers enjoyed the benefits of status and respectability that such leaders conferred while bonds of deference often allowed leaders to exercise a considerable degree of control. However, leaders were often elected by corps for their perceived Patriot qualities after the unit’s foundation, and control was conditional upon good Patriotic end p.85

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Small, Stephen


behaviour. As Grattan found out over the renunciation issue, Volunteer corps often made decisions on a democratic basis and retained the right to criticize their leaders.9 Because the Volunteers were not founded as political clubs, they contained a wide variety of political views ranging from radicalism to conservative loyalism. Many Volunteers were socially conservative and envisaged no significant alteration to the Protestant hegemony of power. Indeed the Volunteers put down agrarian unrest, broke up combinations of workers in Belfast, protected property, and assisted in the maintenance of law and order. These tendencies can also be glimpsed in the behaviour of Patriot MPs who supported the Volunteers in the parliamentary session of 1779-80. While endorsing the Relief of Protestant Dissenters Act, they voted for an act to prevent combinations, and in the previous session many Patriots opposed a moderate measure of Catholic relief.10 Hence any attempt to equate the Volunteers with a particular set of political tenets must proceed cautiously. However, we can identify some common political ideas and show how certain strains of radical and republican Patriotism developed. Central to this process was the connection between the Volunteers and classical republicanism. Although originally formed to protect Ireland from foreign enemies, some Volunteer units developed into radical political clubs and, in many Patriots’ eyes, repositories of civic virtue. For Robert Houlton (under the revealing pseudonym ‘Hampden‘11 ), defence of one’s nation was merely a common duty, ‘but to wage warfare with domestic foes-enemies to the general rights and liberties of mankind, and this in opposition to all the temptations and wiles of corruption, claims a higher appellation than duty —‘tis VIRTUE,—’tis PUBLIC SPIRIT—‘tis genuine PATRIOTISM’.12 This worship of the Volunteers raised their prestige, which in turn, contributed to their growth by inspiring many to join their ranks. It was in no small part due to such utterances about the Volunteers that Ireland saw ‘Warriors shoot forth in every part of the kingdom’.13 The pamphleteers and the Volunteers entered a reciprocal relationship from which the former end p.86


gained material for their writing and vehicles for their ideas, while the latter received encouragement and self-esteem. Most importantly for the development of Patriot political writing, the Volunteer became an idealized civic hero who could be used as a http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p026_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 18:58:12


powerful rhetorical device linking classical republican ideas to current events. This rhetoric helped to make theoretical sense of a remarkable moment in Irish history. Previous Jacobite or French invasion scares had led to the establishment of Volunteer units in Ireland before 1778, for example in 1715, 1745, and 1760. But the new Volunteers were unique in terms of scale and ceremony. Fine uniforms were worn, and lavish dinners given. The aristocracy, gentry, and wealthier merchants revelled in their military titles, and for the middling sorts there was the chance to cut a figure and mix with social superiors—all in the name of Irish liberties and free trade. The social whirl of drinking, dining, and dressing up conferred such benefits of participation that it drew many hitherto disfranchised Irishmen into bodies with real political power for the first time. Far-reaching changes in their political outlook and self-image resulted which could not be easily reversed by the political elite once the crisis was over. Recognizing the significance of this ‘Patriotic fever’ in altering political consciousness, an anonymous ‘Volunteer’ asked, ‘have not men’s minds, in consequence, acquired new powers of perception and action’.14 These new powers were understood largely in terms of a very old political theory. Patriots saw the Volunteers as the physical embodiment of classical republican martial virtues, and they soon became central to Patriot political thought through an association with a powerful rhetoric of liberty, public spirit, virtue, vigilance, and courage. These attributes defined a new kind of Irish citizen, and lavish praise of the Volunteers using these terms was commonplace. Intoxication with the power and communal strength of the Volunteers seems to have overwhelmed many political writers, who expressed their obsession with great confidence and occasional panache between 1780 and 1782. Here is Grattan at his most excitable urging the Volunteers on to new goals after the free trade concessions: ‘Go on and prosper, thou sword of justice and shield of freedom: the living sources of an ancient flame, the foundation of our pride... The custody of the nation’s character is in your hands. Go on and multiply and add immortal security to the cause of your country.’15 Thus, Patriots happily merged martial spirit end p.87


and public virtue in the person of these citizen-soldiers. The title page of one anonymous Patriot’s pamphlet bore a quotation from Book i of Homer’s Iliad which declared, ‘A Spirit of Vigour was infused into the multitude and every Man became a Soldier, on the noblest principles!’16 In his poem The Contrast, William Preston vividly brings out the connection between soldier and citizen at the heart of the theory. Awake, alive, possest with glory’s charms, ‘Tis virtue, virtue calls the host to arms. They blend the citizen’s and the soldier’s name, And reason sanctifies the martial flame.17 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p026_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 18:58:12


Membership of the Volunteers was also widely recognized to have conferred a degree of self-awareness, confidence, and politicization, which we might now call empowerment. An anonymous Patriot describes how membership of the Volunteers radically changed political action and language. Men embodied and in arms feel in a most forcible manner the sensation of independence. Mutual confidence, running from breast to breast, and increasing as it advances, inspires them with strength and resolution. ... It was thus that the people of Ireland, conscious of the justice of their cause, emboldened by the integrity of their intentions, and confident from their union, demanded from Britain a redress of grievances. The holy flame of liberty ascending from the multitude, insinuated itself into the breasts of our senators. The parliament and the people became as one man. There was no resisting their requests.18 Thus, the Volunteers were perceived to have given Irish Protestants a power, confidence, and cohesion that made complete redress of their grievances seem possible. The fact that the collective public spirit of an armed citizenry had achieved more for Ireland in a few months than the efforts of its political elite had in decades also diluted deference. This was especially true of the Dissenters in the north, where The Advantages of a General Knowledge of the Use of Arms were perceived to be manifold and profound. They amounted to a complete political and social reconstruction of the individual with a far-ranging liberating and emancipatory effect.19 Alexander saw greater political end p.88


and social equality as the inevitable outcome of general military training. The use of arms would inspire Irish youths with ‘a manly spirit and just sense of their own importance’ that would prevent their intimidation by social superiors. ‘The subordinate classes of mankind’ had, he argued, ‘been generally regarded by the higher orders in the state as a timid, weak and spiritless herd, fit only to be led or driven, as the mere will of a superior dictates’. But should the use of arms become universal, they ‘must acquire an importance in society, to which, hitherto, they have been in great measure strangers’. ‘Will men thus instructed and thus prepared’, he asked, ‘tamely submit to any imposition, to any species of contemptuous or injurious treatment from any person of whatever rank or station?’20 This social revolution would not simply be the consequence of elite acquiescence to popular force modelled on a crude balance of power theory, it was also based on improved knowledge and social skills created by Volunteer membership. For Alexander, confidence through arms even created an ‘EASY MANNER, A DECENT EXTERIOR, and a



MANLY PORT’ which allowed those ‘bred up in the shades of obscurity’ to ‘lay aside their native bashfulness, and attain such a degree of assurance as will enable them to acquit themselves with some share of propriety, and display whatever advantage they are possessed of to advantage’. In the course of attending to national defence, the Volunteers would give a political education to ordinary Protestants which would change both social relations and the language of politics.21 Four years later, immediately after the Volunteers’ success in securing legislative independence, an anonymous pamphleteer confirmed the truth of these theories. Military discipline, which in other institutions, teaches a slavish subordination, has given to us a new lesson of equality ... What a difference was there between the English Yeoman and the Irish tenant! We hoped that commerce and property might elevate the minds of our poorer countrymen in the course of time, perhaps in half a century. How much has Volunteering done in two years? the poorest Volunteer feels himself a member of a free, and of a strong state; his ideas expand, his character is ennobled. He begins to love and enforce the laws. He is no longer a timid slave, who conceals his substance, but a free subject, proud that he can afford a uniform.22 end p.89


William Drennan, an enthusiastic Volunteer, captured this mood perfectly in a description of the Volunteers’ influence on Irish political attitudes. They have given the inhabitants of this country a consciousness of internal strength, and a self-sufficiency of character, that are excellent securities against the inroads of arbitrary power.... the use of arms, the frequent meetings of collective bodies which produce military attachment and the co-incidence of political opinion; and the levelling of all civil distinction of rank or fortune, necessary in martial evolution and manoeuvre, concur in giving the lower ranks of the community an independence and republicanism of spirit, that will have much influence on their future conduct; will tend to remove that servile awe of tyrants, which is incident in the lower orders of men; and will secure the free and unbiased election of the representative body. The Volunteers even had a Patriotic effect on ‘those of the higher condition’. Through their ‘childish eagerness for military honor’ and ‘general belief that the English ministry have been terrified into justice’, their love of country, ‘which was formerly absorbed in stupid admiration of a sister-island’, is now ‘re-animated and condensed into vigorous and effective Patriotism’.23 This unprecedented feeling of power deeply politicized Patriots and the heady rhetoric profoundly altered their political language. The most immediate victim of this change was the deferential, subservient attitude to Britain, which was replaced by increasing assertiveness and a belief in Irish equality with respect to its sister-kingdom. This http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p026_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 18:58:12


political awakening was closely allied with the transfer of Patriot priorities from the defence of Ireland to support for free trade and legislative independence. As one Patriot put it, ‘Our fears from France being over, we began to enquire, if there yet remained other foes, whom we should guard against, and we found there yet was one left; the more dangerous, as it was lurking in our very bosom, like a canker, had eat its way into our vitals, and was preying upon our constitution. We discovered that our liberty had been invaded by England.’24 It was clear in his eyes that the martial spirit of the Volunteers had extracted concessions from the British government of Lord North. ‘Believe me those wondrous concessions [free trade] flowed not from his [North’s] wishes for your welfare, but from his fears from your spirit. If praise is to be given, the volunteers of Ireland deserve the loudest applauses.’25 Grattan agreed. During his famous parliamentary speech asserting the exclusive end p.90




Small, Stephen


right of the King, Lords, and Commons to legislate for Ireland, he declared ‘the lovers of freedom rejoice at that martial spirit which has operated to national happiness’.26 Ultimately, Volunteers were regarded by Patriots as the panacea for Irish political ills. They would end corruption and servility, encourage greater social equality, enlighten common minds, and inspire independence, national unity, and true patriotism. Grattan, for one, was in no doubt about their efficacy. ‘We have obtained trade and liberty in the character of an armed, active community’, he asserted, ‘in that character we will preserve them.’27 Here was concrete proof of the success of Irish virtue over British tyranny-with the Volunteers as its vehicle. Contemporary events seemed to be verifying classical theories. But how, precisely, did this theory of virtue and liberty work?

III . VIGILANCE, POWER, AND LIBERTY For classical republicans like William Drennan, the connection between virtue and liberty relied on constant vigilance and the use of power. Vigilance, or ‘a wakeful jealousy’ was ‘thought to be the vivifying and conservative principles in our mixt government. The soul and the salt which are to keep it from death and corruption.’28 But this vigilance was useless without the power to act if necessary, for as Drennan put it, ‘liberty depends upon power’.29 Thus, praise of the Volunteers rested ultimately on a theory of how power should operate in a constitution balanced between three conflicting variables: the interests of monarchy, aristocracy, and the people. Such theories of balance are inherently open to divergent interpretations, but few would have disagreed with the fundamentals of the model itself. To radical Patriots like Drennan, the constitution had become dangerously tilted in favour of aristocracy and monarchy because the people’s representative body, the House of Commons, was failing in its duty. This was for two reasons: it was corrupted by the bribes, pensions, and places of the monarchical executive; and its aristocratic, Anglican composition rendered it unrepresentative of the people. Drennan thought parliament ‘ought to be ... the express image of popular opinion, defined and regulated by delegated wisdom’. But this was end p.91




not the case in Ireland, where corruption and unconstitutional influence made the House of Commons ‘unoperative, as a control proceeding from the body of the people upon abuse of power’. As a consequence, the people must find a new way for their power to have effect. As Drennan put it, when all the customary channels by which the people can preserve any influence on government, are choaked up ... the national spirit, if not totally exhausted, must swell beyond its ancient limits, and form a new current for itself-If there be no national parliament, there must be county ones. If there be no parliamentary army there will be a voluntary army ... by its means a constitutional check has once more re-established itself in the frame of Government.30 The function of the Volunteers, therefore, was to give a focus to the legitimate desires and interests of the people such that their power could count again in the constitutional balance. This popular power was exercised largely through fear rather than actual violence. Echoing Machiavelli’s idea that tyranny is held in check through constant struggle between the orders of the state, Drennan thought the threat of tumults was constantly needed as a corrective to aristocratic and ministerial ambition. For when ‘fear of the people begins again to operate as a conscience for the court, the popular scale no longer kicks the beam’. This fear must continue ‘until it can maintain a proper equilibrium, and then (and not until then) it will rest in peace’.31 However, Drennan argued that real violence only occurs in the absence of accurate information about the relative powers of the monarch and the people. ‘It is uncertainty and ignorance, to which side the balance of power inclines, that give rise to the great struggles between Prince and People.’ When the people lack the required vigilance and martial spirit the prince overestimates his power and the people underestimate theirs. Thus the prince oversteps his authority and eventually pushes the people into rebellion. ‘Thus the nation spends its existence in sleep or in convulsion.’ If both sides knew their true strength, violent struggle would not be necessary as a self-regulating system of rational choices on the part of ruler and ruled would ensure that neither dominated the other. In a rational state, experience of past revolutions would prompt comparative estimates of the stock of public spirit, and the weight of public corruption. The people will make occasional trials of strength; the opposite party by this means can at pleasure strike the balance, and the mutual consciousness of the result, will depress the one or reanimate the other; operating in the prevention of those dreadful revolutions, that periodically deluge the land with human blood.32 end p.92


Thus, in a well-regulated polity, the balance of power necessary for liberty may not require much actual military activity on behalf of the people. However, liberty is not http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p027_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:00:37


easily achieved or maintained, as the United Provinces discovered in their struggle with Charles V in the Dutch revolt. ‘Liberty’, warned Drennan, ‘is a precious blessing and cannot be bought cheaply. The patient Hollander struggled for it during a Forty years war.’ He also instructed readers that ‘liberty is acquired by Power and Union’, and ‘can only be preserved by PERSEVERENCE’. Thus, true Patriotism required a dogged longterm commitment: a ‘never sleeping suspicion of ruling power’.33 It is perhaps for this reason that he was suspicious of ‘Patriots by potation, whose public spirit ebbs with an empty bottle’.34 In his sober dismissal of bogus Patriots we can already see the seriousminded Dissenter and true Patriot preparing for the long haul to Irish liberty: a journey of vigilance and perseverance that would lead to the United Irishmen ten years later.

IV . STANDING ARMIES AND THE MUTINY BILL The heated controversy over the perpetual mutiny bill35 perhaps demonstrates best of all the classical republican and Real Whig inheritance of the Patriots. Coming immediately after the Commons’ decision to postpone indefinitely Grattan’s motion of 19 April 1780 proposing legislative independence, the episode could be seen merely as a convenient cudgel for parliamentary Patriots. But the significance accorded the issue, which touched all the Real Whig nerves about standing armies beyond parliamentary control, cannot be fully explained in this way—and the fact that Grattan chose this out of all potential issues to inspire his first pamphlet is not insignificant. The crisis arose when a few Irish JPs with Patriot sympathies refused to convict deserters under the British mutiny act of 1689 . Previously, the military discipline of all the king’s troops had been enforced by the British Mutiny Act, even when those troops were stationed in Ireland. The operation of this law was now seen as an obvious infringement of Irish parliamentary independence, but as there was no Irish mutiny act it was end p.93


becoming unclear whether soldiers could be legally court martialled in Ireland or whether they must be treated as ordinary citizens. The entire edifice of military discipline was in danger of crumbling, and in order to prevent the possibility of widespread disorder and desertion, the Irish parliament rapidly drew up its own heads of a bill on the British model. Ostensibly, the Patriots were primarily concerned with the right of the Irish parliament to pass its own laws governing the Irish military establishment, but they were also motivated by the traditional Real Whig fear of standing armies. As with the British Mutiny Act, the bill was to be limited to one year, entailing an annual renewal, which served as an implicit recognition of the continuing right of parliament to regulate and control the armed forces. Hence, when this annual mutiny bill was returned by the English Privy Council as a permanent mutiny bill, this http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p027_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:00:37


was not only seen as an interference with the Irish legislative process, it also implied that the army in Ireland would not be under the control of the Irish parliament. When the amended bill was passed in Ireland, it caused a storm of protest among Patriots both inside and outside parliament. Demonstrating his Real Whig concerns, Dobbs articulated widely shared worries about the dangers to liberty of an army not subject to the people’s control. ‘The noblest Defenders, and ablest Advocates of Freedom, have ever supported, and the Experience of Ages hath proved THIS TRUTH— that no Nation can continue free, that admits an armed Body, distinct from, and superior to the people at large.’36 Grattan’s Observations on the Mutiny Bill (1781) developed Dobbs’s argument that the perpetual mutiny bill opened the door to tyranny. For Grattan, ‘standing armies in peace are against the principles of the constitution, and the safety of public liberty; they have subverted the freedom of all nations, except in those instances where their numbers were small, or the power of the sovereign over such an instrument, limited in quality or duration’. Grattan saw a logical inconsistency in a system of government whose general tendency set bounds to the authority of the chief magistrate, while allowing him ‘a perpetual and irresistable force’ in the form of a standing army. Surely, he argued, ‘in such a case the law would invest the king with a power too strong for herself, and would make provision for her own violation’.37 The provisions in the bill which gave the king wide discretionary powers of control and punishment over the Irish military establishment were particularly onerous to Grattan, and somewhat disingenuously, he even used them to stoke English fears. The idea of Ireland as an alternative source of military support for the monarch in a end p.94


dispute with the British (or English) parliament had a long pedigree, and to English parliamentarians Grattan’s allusions to the activities of James II after the Glorious Revolution were obvious. But it was less clear whether handing control of the military to the Irish parliament was the lesser of two evils for the British parliament. Despite Dunning’s motion condemning the increase of the crown’s influence, different conditions now applied: George III was no James II and the argument was unlikely to have the required effect in Britain. Grattan’s primary objection was to the nature of martial law itself, which was ‘directly opposite to the common law of the land’. By setting aside trial by jury and principles of evidence for ‘a summary proceeding, arbitrary punishments, a secret sentence, and a sudden execution’ it created ‘a state of implicit subordination’, ‘an absolute authority’ in the sovereign, and ‘a perfect image of arbitrary power’.38 Thus, the virtuous libertyloving, political culture desired by the Patriots was endangered, at least as far as the Irish soldiery was concerned, and this in itself would threaten Irish liberty. For once ‘taken out of the protection of the common law’, the army would be ‘weaned from all love and affection to it; and instead of constitutional principles, vain and empty notions ... an extravagant spirit and zealous obedience, a false veneration for power, http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p027_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:00:37


accompanied with a contempt for the law’ would result.39 These Real Whig arguments had even more purchase in Ireland than in Britain. Traditionally, large numbers of troops were stationed in Irish barracks during peacetime in a manner that was not tolerated in England. And given that the King, the British Parliament, and the Army all regarded Irish parliamentary control as unnecessary, executive use of the army was far more likely to encroach on parliamentary authority in Ireland than in Britain. The example of America, another country with no control over the armed forces on its soil, drove home this point. ‘To arm the chief magistrate, or rather indeed to arm the claims of the British parliament, with a perpetual law for the regulation and accommodation of any indefinite number of troops his Majesty is pleased to keep in Ireland’ appeared to Grattan ‘a measure of unwarrantable and unreasonable, corrupt and crazy confidence’.40 Lawrence Parsons’s Dissertation on the Perpetual Mutiny Bill (1781) was the clearest and most succinct exposition of the Patriot position on this issue. His main arguments drew even more explicitly on Real Whig and classical traditions than Grattan’s. He shared Grattan’s fear for the soldiers end p.95




Small, Stephen


subjected to the barbaric code, which he pointed out would be applied even to freemen entering the militia. He also feared the arbitrary executive power enshrined in the bill. He thought this ‘established a new mode of legislation’, which would be a ‘prelude to the old slavish doctrine, that the proclamations of the King have the force of law’.41 Parsons regarded it as an established maxim that in every free state ‘the army should be entirely dependent on the people, or their representatives; and that the yielding up the executive direction of them to any one man, is also yielding up to him the power of overturning the liberty of the nation’.42 He then gave historical examples of this maxim. Assyria’s wise legislature broke up its army each year, and Macedonia had fallen prey to its own army. Athens ‘might have long enjoyed her freedom; if the independence of her senators had not granted a guard of fifty men to Pisistratus’— which he then expanded to seize power. Parsons attributed the destruction of Roman liberty (as, he notes, did Machiavelli) to the abandonment of the ‘ancient regulation’ of its ‘great legislators ... that no general should continue in his command for more than the space of one year’. As a result the army became attached to one man (Caesar) rather than the people. Thus the army ‘soon became subservient to his will; they lost by long absence, all regard for the Commonwealth, and considered themselves as the army of the commander, not of the people. For him they hazarded their lives; for him they enslaved their country.’43 Parsons was also able to cite more recent examples. By the use of standing armies Francesco Sforza ‘overturned the freedom of the Milanese’ in the fifteenth century, and by the same instrument ‘liberty was banished from Denmark, France and Spain’. As recently as 1772 Gustavus III had ‘enslaved’ Sweden in a military coup.44 Such examples consciously evoked a long tradition of classical republican and Real Whig literature. From Polybius’s Histories and Machiavelli’s Discourses, this tradition continued through Robert Molesworth’s Account of Denmark (1693), to Charles Francis Sheridan’s A History of the Late Revolution in Sweden (1778). The best example of the chaos that could come from a standing army beyond parliamentary control was, of course, on Parsons’s own doorstep. The exploits of standing armies during the civil war period still loomed large in the imagination of the English-speaking political world, and it was this memory more than any other that inculcated a fear of such bodies. Parsons’s grossly over-simplified, whirlwind account of the New Model Army end p.96




succinctly captures the upheaval and damage to liberty that can result from the whim of an army or its commander. The forces, which were raised by the parliament, beheaded the king, annihilated the monarchy, and established the Commonwealth. But this new form of government was scarcely created when they destroyed it, deposing the very parliament which had raised them, and making Cromwell absolute in England. This legislation too pleasing them no better than the former soon fell a victim to their caprice: they stripped the young protecter [Richard Cromwell] of all the authority with which they had invested him, and, at the instigation of their general [Monck], restored that government to the nation which first felt the fury of their power.45 It is easy to regard the paranoia of Dobbs, Grattan, and Parsons as largely rhetorical and slightly archaic in the 1780s. But Parsons plausibly pointed out that the power of an uncontrolled army could quickly and violently destroy the constitution. Hence, it could be the most dangerous threat of all to liberty and the rule of law. ‘Corruption may deprive them of some of their rights; it may be an accessory in destroying their freedom, but the sword must always be the principle.’ To his Real Whig way of thinking, ‘there may be an army without slavery, yet it is a political axiom, that there cannot be slavery without an army’.46 Given the excesses of the army in ‘pacifying’ Ireland in 1797-8, such fears of standing armies were to prove not altogether unreasonable.

V . CYCLICAL DECAY Accompanying the Patriots’ rapidly growing self-confidence and their desire for greater independence, we can see a cyclical concept of history not dissimilar to that employed by Machiavelli or even Polybius. The striking renaissance imagery of Fortuna as a fickle woman or a spinning wheel may have been missing, but the basic idea was the same. Changes in forms of government and the relative strength of nations could be explained by the cyclical rise and fall of states subject to the vagaries of fortune and, more importantly, the consequences of virtue or vice. This model was not the only Patriot theory of history. Enlightenment ideas of the general progress of humanity could coexist happily with a cyclical view of the history of particular nations. But despite its archaism, the cyclical model was an important conceptual tool for Patriots and another aspect of classical republicanism perfectly suited to their analyses of the Anglo-Irish relationship. Quite simply, Ireland was finally ascending the wheel of fortune helped end p.97


by the virtue of its Patriot citizens, while England was in decline due to its public and http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p028_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:01:03


private vices. Corruption, gambling, luxury, debauchery, effeminacy, and incompetence had replaced virtue in a British state that had previously been praised throughout Europe for the jealous defence of its liberty. Of course the great example of this decline was the imminent loss of Empire, which many expected would attend Britain’s failure to subdue the American colonists. Radical Dissenter Andrew Alexander drew on these themes in a vivid description of catastrophic British degeneration. O Britain! From what height of power and glory art thou instantly fallen! Thy wide and rich DEMESNE, by gross mismanagement, torn to pieces and shamefully wasted!... How wretchedly are thy sons degenerated from their illustrious fathers! Sunk in venality and voluptuousness, dupes to a blundering adm——n, they are become deaf to the calls of honour and of liberty, incapable of one manly effort to save thee from destruction!47 The image of Britain falling from historical greatness could blend almost imperceptibly with Christian models of the fall of man. These images appealed to the Augustinian Christianity of Ulster Dissenters such as Alexander, who emphasized how the capacity for liberty had been destroyed by sin and how religious virtue could support civil virtue.48 Another cleric, Revd George Carson, went even further in arguing that ‘all nations ... lost their courage and liberties, and became effeminate, in proportion as they have departed from virtue and true religion’.49 But the theory was essentially classical in origin. William Eden, the British chief secretary to Lord Lieutenant Carlisle, warned against the ‘vain hope of exemption from the calamities which will attend England in her fall’. He then pointed out the intimate connections Ireland had with ‘the crown of England’ and ‘the fortunes of Great-Britain’ concluding that ‘she can rise or fall but with them’.50 But some radical Patriots were taking the opposite view. In 1779 Joseph Pollock had already floated the idea that action might be necessary to prevent a sinking Britain pulling Ireland to the bottom in its dying convulsions.51 In The Contrast (1780) William Preston described the triumph of Irish virtue over English vice using imagery that would have been familiar to Machiavelli. Vice, end p.98


luxury, pride, and corruption had brought a once-great Britain to her knees, destroying its virtue, liberty, and even its prosperity. Oh Britain! fav’rite seat of arts and arms, Where free-born virtue spread her brightest charms. How sunk, how lost!—the boding fears arise, Thy wealth, thy pleasures call forth Patriot sighs.



Alas the change!—While vice the soul depraves, And soft pollutions melt down men to slaves: For public crimes in private vice begin, And gen’ral luxury in general sin.52 The past history of Britain’s treatment of Ireland also furnished numerous examples of its vice. While ‘haughty Britain’ had been in the ascendant, Ireland had suffered, argued Preston. But Ireland was now ‘a rising nation’ whose ‘hour is come’.53 Many Patriots thought British decline a mixed blessing for Ireland however, viewing this fall from grace sympathetically and even sorrowfully. Preston urged Britons to ‘Restrain thy luxury, control thy pride’, and he called for a reawakening of their virtue. Hear Britons, hear and from your trances wake. Renew the glories of those ancient times, When righteous anger flam’d at public crimes.54 For more conservative Patriots, Britain was still the birthplace and bastion of political liberty, imperfect though this may be for Ireland under British influence. One thought the situation of Britain presented ‘an awful spectacle to the world’, with ‘the defection of her colonies, the discontents and distresses of a valuable appendant kingdom; [and] a dangerous war with the house of Bourbon’.55 For him Ireland would not benefit from any irrevocable decline in Britain’s standing. He argued that ‘the fall of Britain would produce the mournful exchange of an imperfect liberty, for an absolute tyranny’, and in this event ‘Ireland must then be content with the condition of a province of France or Spain’.56 But while it was not uncommon for Patriots to express at least a tinge of sadness for Britain’s plight, Schadenfreude was also commonplace, and even Patriots who lamented Britain’s end p.99


difficulties realized that British decline offered a unique opportunity for Irish freedom. These images of Britain’s demise coincided with the publication of the second set of volumes of Gibbon’s History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire in 1781.57 In this volume Gibbon considers the reasons for the fall of Rome and produces answers that many Irishmen could easily use to understand the ‘fall’ of Britain.58 ‘[T]he decline of Rome was the natural and inevitable effect of immoderate greatness. Prosperity ripened the principle of decay; the causes of destruction multiplied with the extent of conquest; and as soon as time or accident had removed the artificial supports, the stupendous fabric yielded to the pressure of its own weight.’59 The inference for Britain was clear. The overwhelming success of British arms and commerce, especially since the Seven Years War, had created too much luxury and put too much strain on a http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p028_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:01:03


corrupted political system. Such connections had already been made by Irish Patriots. In a barely concealed allusion to Britain’s Indian Empire and its use of Hessian troops in America, Alexander explained how the ‘profusion of wealth’ that flowed into Rome after its ‘Asiatic conquests’ had led citizens and Patriots to wallow in opulence, ease, and voluptuousness. Rather than relinquish these pleasures, they then ‘chose to commit the public to the care and bravery of hirelings’ rather than defend it themselves.60 If empire and luxury made Britain’s fall seem almost inevitable in retrospect, Ireland’s rise could also be understood within Gibbon’s model. His psychological and social prerequisites for the rise of Rome bore a remarkable similarity to the self-image of the Patriots and the Volunteers. Gibbon described ‘the fidelity of the citizens to each other, and to the state’, and he thought that ‘honour, as well as virtue, was the principle of the republic’ in which ‘the ambitious citizens laboured to deserve the solemn glories of a triumph’.61 Such views of historical change produced an intense awareness that this end p.100




Small, Stephen


fortunate moment in the historical cycle may not occur again and drove Patriots to seize the day while they could.62 As one Patriot put it, ‘The present state of Europe, and our immediate situation afford the fairest and best opportunity ever offered by time for the completion of our liberty, and the re-assumption of our rights. ...If we neglect the present moment, perhaps such another lies not in the womb of time.’63 Houlton (as ‘Hampden’) advised his readers that ‘the next session will be the most momentous ever convened to deliberate on the affairs of a nation’.64 He urged the people of Ireland ‘not to wait for a fit of returning pride in England, nor for a bettered condition of her affairs’. They should ‘seize the inviting moment’ to obtain ‘all OUR RIGHTS AS FREEMEN’,65 for ‘an eternity of time may not present again so favourable, so inviting a juncture’.66 The notion that Ireland was at a particularly favourable point in time combined with the new-found sense of power and success described earlier. Many Patriots were convinced that Britain dared not impose its will on Ireland with the Volunteers at large and while still engaged with the Americans. Confidence ran high and many Patriots sought to marshal this popular power for the cause of legislative independence while the ideal moment was at hand. One fervent Patriot asserted, ‘never in any period of the history of nations, was the re-establishment of FREEDOM placed so much within the reach of a people. Let us but pronounce the word with one voice, and it is done unless we trifle with the situation.’ At such a moment the genesis of Irish liberty merely required a collective utterance of ‘freedom’.67 British decline also offered a de facto argument against British claims to govern Ireland. Aside from justice and right, the argument for British rule had ‘become false in fact’. Not only was Britain ‘no longer able to support Ireland’, it was ‘no longer able to defend herself—her multiple acts of injustice have united the world against her; and Ireland may indeed be crushed in her ruin, but cannot look to her for protection’.68 Perhaps, above all else, this cyclical view of history and its associated end p.101


implications for Irish opportunities demonstrate that Patriot political thought was a philosophy of action. Theoretical discussion could only go so far, and if Drennan’s Real Whig ideas meant anything, they had taught him that the vigilant citizen should not be content merely to regurgitate political philosophy in a moment of opportunity. Consistent with the notion of active citizenship (and taking a sly dig at Harrington) he urged his countrymen, ‘do not sit spouting of Oceana’s on all around you, or wrapping http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p029_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:02:14


yourselves up in flimsey Eutopian schemes of general Humanity, while present and urgent occasion is knocking at your doors. Let Ireland and Ireland only, be the object of your attention.’69

VI . COMBINING THE CLASSICAL AND THE COMMERCIAL Irish Patriotism in this period was a complex and occasionally contradictory blend of the old and the new. As we have seen, classical images abounded.70 Patriots compared the Volunteers to Roman citizens and Irish political leaders to Roman senators. For example, Grattan thought the ‘senate composed of men that would do honour to Rome, when Rome did honour to human nature’;71 and a ‘sketch’ of the leading Irish MPs ascribed Denis Daly a character which ‘would have reflected honour on Rome in her days of purest heroism’.72 Yet while Irish Patriotism had one eye firmly focused on the past glories of Rome and Greece, Janus-like it was also forward-looking and selfconsciously progressive. As well as renovating a balanced constitution for their progeny, Patriots wished to create a modern, improved commercial economy. In The Contrast, Preston mixed the Patriot preoccupation with trade and improvement with classical republican imagery. Wealth, as well as virtue and glory, could be grasped at this special moment: the classical republic met eighteenth-century commercial society on the upward turn of fortune’s wheel and there was little distinction between freedom and prosperity. Indeed they seem inextricably linked. One of the achievements of Irish Patriot thought, therefore, was to combine the most useful elements of classical imagery and language with an individualistic recognition that Patriotism must also be based on self-interest, property, and trade. This synthesis was partly based on a confident end p.102


rejection of the traditional thesis that citizen militias and industry were incompatible. As one anonymous pamphleteer put it: It has often been asserted, that volunteering detracts so much from industry, that it is unfit for a commercial country. ... These reasoners count the idle days which are spent in volunteering, but they forget that by embodying five thousand soldiers, we take more days from industry than what are wasted by all the volunteers of Ireland ... Volunteering is the properest defence for a commercial country, because it takes less from industry than anything that can be substituted in its place. Despite this defence of the citizen-soldier, in his view, no ancient state had managed to reconcile commerce with the use of a militia to protect liberty and repel invasion—and few modern states had even tried. England had attempted this ‘but feebly’, and, in any http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p029_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:02:14


case, its militia was not a true citizens’ militia, for it effectively turned its citizens into full-time soldiers. It was only in Ireland that the synthesis of classical virtue and commerce had been achieved. ‘To take as much of an ancient establishment as can be adapted to a modern situation; to adapt the wisdom of a small state as far as it suits a great one; to borrow from a martial policy as much as is consistent with a commercial one, is the peculiar honour of Ireland.’73 This synthesis was not without its critics, however. Drennan’s concise but stark description of the connection between Patriotism and self-interest threatened to subvert the Patriot position by rejecting the idea that Patriotism was based on public virtue at all. For Drennan, every order of men, and particularly the lower, are become Patriotic merely from self interest. As the abstract operations of the understanding have been traced to the coarse impressions of sense, so a refined amor patriae has with us, taken its rise from the vulgar appetite of hunger. Necessity, the great law of self-preservation, has been the stern and rugged nurse of Irish Patriotism. This Humean, almost Hobbesian, analysis of Patriotism as the result of reflection on sense, impressions of hunger, and want sits uneasily with his descriptions of the selfsacrificing virtue needed to protect liberty. In a similarly ambiguous manner, Drennan thought that economic need had generated a universal spirit of cooperation even between merchants and politicians, yet in the same passage he referred to ‘a certain selfishness of spirit that usually clings to the spirit of commerce’.74 His uncertainty about commerce echoes that of other thoughtful Patriots such as Flood and Joseph Pollock.75 At the heart of this radical Patriot dilemma is that old end p.103


eighteenth-century problem, first made explicit by Mandeville, which refused to lie down in the face of Patriot self-satisfaction. How can public good and civic virtue arise from self-interest and private vice? The irony for radical Irish Patriots of a particular classical republican bent was that the spearhead of Irish liberty was the selfish and slightly distasteful desire for commerce. As we have seen, these concerns were of little consequence to most Patriots, who fully reconciled themselves to the view that increased trade was vital for Ireland. Most Patriots were also less squeamish about self-interest in so far as it contributed to Irish trade. As one anonymous author pointed out, trade ‘knows no fast and constant Friend but Interest’, and self-interest ‘never dies’.76 Francis Dobbs also used ‘interest’ to explain Patriot motivations, developing the common Patriot theme of Flood and Pollock that nations are inherently selfish. Like Mandeville, he thought ‘interest is the grandspring of action’, and though a few individuals ‘may gloriously deviate from it...



between nations it is, it must be, the ruling principle’.77 A typical Patriot view of commerce was the eulogy of ‘P. Leyal’ in his letter to the ‘exalted Patriot’, the Duke of Leinster. Leyal urged his compatriots, above all, look to the scenes which open before us! which brighten, while we look! which expand while they brighten! which show the world and its wealth as soliciting our COMMERCE.... Look, my Lord, to the blessings of a FREE TRADE; those blessings which were not reached even by the hopes of our ancestors! Those blessings, which the magic of anticipation already realizes; which the approaching moment shall animate and secure; and for which we shall be indebted to the virtuous and moderate conduct of a free people and Patriotic parliament.78 Such rhetoric was balanced by a more sober, but no less positive, realization of the serious economic problems facing Ireland. In keeping with a tradition of improvement stretching back to Swift and Berkeley, Patriots in the early 1780s offered detailed solutions in a series of pamphlets. Every aspect of Irish economic and social life was scrutinized. Typical plans for improvements included: workhouses and foundling hospitals for the poor, canals and turnpikes, penalties for absentees, the draining of bogs, legislation to encourage the linen and wool industries, the establishment of native fishing industry, simplification of the law, price controls and export end p.104


bounties, the establishment of a national bank and paper currency, tax reforms, land reform to encourage investment by tenants, plans to prevent emigration to America, and educational reform to provide useful instruction in mechanical, military, and agricultural techniques.79 The Dublin Society and various smaller associations often encouraged or sponsored such works, and we should recognize the importance of philanthropy to the Irish Patriot consciousness in this period. This ‘improving’ theme was common across the whole spectrum of Patriotism. But it could have a socially conservative edge that tried to enforce economic hierarchy and the reformation of manners. Numerous pamphleteers praised the commercial attributes of industry and sobriety as the key to future success, but some drew highly conservative moral messages from them. Combinations were abhorred, and the poor should be hard working, devout, and in their place. This conservative Patriot tradition began to part company with radical Patriotism after the winning of free trade and its criticisms soon turned to the Volunteers themselves.

VII . CRITIQUES OF THE VOLUNTEERS AND CONSERVATIVE PATRIOTISM The citizen-soldier fusion described above left the Volunteers open to a potentially http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p029_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:02:14


damaging criticism that would contribute to their eventual demise as a political force. Soldiers, as everyone knew, were not always liberty-loving paragons of public virtue. If citizens became soldiers, then violence, instability, and civil unrest could ensue: the defence of liberty was not the only possible consequence of an armed citizenry in a country as divided as Ireland. This was especially true if these citizen-soldiers were beyond the control of parliament. Thus, Patriot pamphleteers were often careful to allay fears of aggressive intent on the part of the Volunteers, noting that ‘swords were drawn not to gratify royal or ministerial ambition, but to defend all that can be dear to freemen, their persons, their families, and their homes!’80 The Volunteers were merely ‘a firm association of noblemen and the most respectable citizens, bound together by the ties of friendship end p.105




Small, Stephen


and of interest, and enflamed with the generous enthusiasm of liberty.’81 Patriots portrayed martial spirit as defensive and protective not as aggressive or revolutionary. However, the elite worried that the volunteer rank and file were increasingly outside respectable society and a danger to the propertied classes. From 1781, Volunteer membership did move progressively down the social scale. This was especially true in Dublin, where Volunteer units had already fused with an older guild-based politics of protest. Strong populist, anti-importation traditions flourished under the leadership of radicals such as Napper Tandy. More frighteningly for propertied Protestants, the Volunteers began to recruit considerable numbers of Catholics. After securing legislative independence in 1782, moderates increasingly withdrew from active membership, and by the middle of 1783 poor Catholic woollen workers from Dublin’s liberties were being recruited into the ‘Liberty’ corps.82 Catholics, who could not legally bear arms, were technically excluded from full participation, but there is evidence to suggest that they were admitted to Volunteer units as early as the summer of 1781. A Meath county meeting at Trim on 3 July 1781 resolved against associating with Catholic Volunteers (a strange resolution to make if the latter did not already exist).83 In the same month Robert Houlton (although favourable to Catholic membership) claimed, probably with some exaggeration, that two-thirds of the Volunteers in Munster and Connaught were Roman Catholics.84 By the middle of 1783 many ‘united’ Volunteer corps had admitted Catholics in considerable numbers, and some, such as the First Regiment of the Irish Brigade in Dublin, were set up as Catholic units. Fear of these developments generated economic and utilitarian arguments from conservative Patriots, who thought the middling and lower sorts in Ireland should get back to work and stop meddling in politics. Thus, the strong ‘improving’ element of Irish Patriotism could be articulated as a coded attack on radical Patriots by conservative Patriots. Their basic line was that true Patriots would not waste their time on idle, and possibly seditious, political activity, but would devote their energies to improving the agriculture and industry of their native land.85 In their eyes no time should be lost in taking advantage of the newly won free trade. This outlook inevitably led to criticism of Volunteering. Agriculture, manufacture, and commerce were being neglected while farmers, artisans, and end p.106




merchants were parading around in fancy uniforms. They had had their moment of glory and now the true Patriot should put the interests of the nation first by getting back to work. Francis Dobbs rejected arguments that volunteering ‘takes the Manufacturer from his Loom—the Farmer from his Plow, and renders a Free Trade of little utility’. On the contrary, volunteering merely replaced cock-fighting, horse-racing, gambling, drunkenness, and rioting with an activity requiring sobriety and good order.86 But such observations were unlikely to convince the likes of Revd Robert Law. His sermon of 1780 warned, ‘That ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business.’87 God and Christian duty were pressed into service to recommend ‘industry in our respective stations’. Honesty, punctuality, frugality, and sobriety were recommended to Ireland and the true goal of Patriots should be to emulate British commercial success. How comfortable, how beautiful, how pleasing to the eye, and how grateful to the heart, the view of an industrious community, and more especially of our brethren of Great Britain! See, examine their neatness, their cleanliness, their comforts: all well cloathed and fed, and lodged, and accommodated with every real comfort; nay with every natural elegance; and all this proceeding from their own industry ... I would to God it could excite the emulation and active endeavours of us, their brethren now and associates in every possible encouragement, and not inferior in any one natural advantage.88 Law’s inclusion as a Patriot may be stretching the category to breaking point. In many respects he represents Tory and Anglican traditions of thought which have little in common with the ideas of more radical Patriots. But many of his concerns were shared by propertied Patriots and he was not without philanthropic concern for his fellow countrymen. He praised efficient manufacturers and traders and censured idle landowners for living ‘in tyrannic luxury, while an extended circle of wretches, miscalled tenants, are not lodged or fed so well as the lowest brutes of other countries’. His view of combinations as the ‘greatest of all possible evils in our circumstances’ was also a common Patriot tenet.89 Law’s desire to harness the Volunteers to ‘useful’ occupations included policing and social control. He challenged Volunteers to be ‘foremost in promoting the arts of peace, by affording their ready assistance to enforce end p.107


the execution of the laws, and strengthen the hands of justice ... under the direction of the civil magistrate’.90 And many Volunteer companies already fulfilled this role by escorting prisoners to assizes and putting down agrarian unrest. Calls for the Volunteers to be used in this way reveal the deep anxieties of the landed elite and the



Church of Ireland. Beneath the thin veneer of patrician Patriotism was the fear of social upheaval and even armed rebellion should political power be seized by the middling and lower sorts. By 1783, the Volunteers’ political agenda had certainly become more radical as parliamentary reform replaced legislative independence as their main focus.91 But they never sought social revolution, and even the most radical reformers did not seriously question the sanctity of private property. Nevertheless, the power and influence of the Volunteers was not wholly welcome in some quarters. As early as the spring of 1780, with praise for the victory over free trade still ringing in their ears, the Volunteers caused considerable unease. Armed bodies beyond parliamentary control, no matter how respectable and orderly, could be seen as dangerously contrary to the spirit of the constitution. These worries mirrored concerns over the Association movement in Britain, where the prospect of anti-parliaments and conventions appealing to the people over the heads of Parliament was also seen as deeply subversive of the constitution.92 The problem in Ireland was potentially far more threatening, however, as the Volunteers were more numerous, had military organization, and (most threatening of all) they were armed. One anonymous ‘Volunteer’ thought this popular Patriotism had gone far enough already. He asked ‘whether it is consistent with the freedoms and dignity of parliament, to receive even instructions, only, from any body of armed men, distinguished as such from their fellow citizens’. Was there ‘any difference between instructions so circumstanced, and absolute commands?’93 The Volunteers, he thought, should be thanked ‘for the spirited and orderly conduct they have shown’ and dismissed by parliament ‘from all the other cares and solicitudes, than such as may be necessary to preserve internal peace and to repel the invasions of foreign foes’.94 Dobbs gave a vigorous defence of the Volunteers based on the Irish end p.108


ancient constitution and backed up by Blackstone’s Commentaries. ‘The Constitution of England is by Compact ours’ argued Dobbs, and by that constitution the Volunteers were not illegal, for ‘under the Saxon Race of King’s, the Armies of England were formed of the People, and they had the Right of choosing their own officers’. He went on to assert that ‘the Law and Constitution gives a positive Right to every Protestant in Ireland to carry Arms’.95 Grattan also backed this line but was under no illusions as to the sentiments of the administration. He knew that the size of the Volunteers was a better protection than their legality and ventured, ‘tho’ the volunteers cannot be prosecuted, yet if they were not more numerous and more united than court agitators could wish, I do believe they would be dispersed’.96 He was proved right in 1793 when the government outlawed the remnants of the Volunteers to prevent them becoming a vehicle for radicalism. These debates should remind us that not all Irish Patriots were radicals or protohttp://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p030_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:02:38


separatists. Leyal, for example, explicitly rejected the idea that Irish Patriotism was separatist and was careful to point out that Patriotism is not ‘uniformity of opposition’, arguing that ‘opposition, though sometimes a virtue, is frequently a vice’. Virtue and worth are the true criteria of political action and ‘the Patriot will discriminate’.97 However, conservative attempts to appropriate Patriotism at this time often have an air of desperation. Like Johnson, some moderate and conservative Irish writers tacitly admitted that the battle was already lost. As this anonymous MP’s reply to Grattan’s Observations on the Mutiny Bill shows, pouring scorn on the concept of ‘modern’ Patriotism was seen as more effective than serious attempts at conservative definition of the term. Our modern Patriotism is not founded upon those just, noble, and liberal principles, on which people are apt to imagine it to be. It is a mode of acting, which though it may please the vulgar, will make the judicious grieve. Patriotism like the system of Des Cartes, draws every thing within its own vortex, whilst the ignorant multitude imagine it to be the grand principle, by which all the parts of the constitution are kept in their proper orbits.98 Yet the power of the Patriot label was such that this MP could not resist an attempt to define the ‘true Patriot’: ‘There is nothing wanting at present to make this one of the happiest countries upon earth, but sobriety, honesty, and industry, among its inhabitants. If our noblemen and gentlemen, end p.109


instead of fomenting parties and animosities among us, will encourage arts and manufactures upon their estates, then will they be true Patriots in the literal and strict meaning of the word.’99 Such rearguard attempts to define the ‘strict’ and ‘literal’ meaning of Patriotism, in the context of a deeply conservative view of society, are a tacit recognition of the radicals’ hold on Patriotism. By 1782, advocates of greater independence from Britain and popular participation in politics had largely made Patriotism their own. Their rhetorical victory soon yielded practical results.

VIII . PATRIOTISM AND LEGISLATIVE INDEPENDENCE Between 1779 and 1782, as the language described above suggests, many Patriots took an increasingly cynical view of the Anglo-Irish bonds of kinship, affection, and deference that co-existed uneasily within Irish Patriotism before 1779. The vast majority still desired some connection between Britain and Ireland. In 1782, for example, the Dublin Volunteers ‘RESOLVED-That Great Britain and Ireland are, and ought to be, inseparably connected, by being under the dominion of the same King, and enjoying equal liberty and similar constitutions’. Furthermore, they thought it ‘the duty http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p030_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:02:38


of every good citizen, to maintain the Connexion of the two Countries’.100 However, this connection was not unconditional. Dobbs, for example, implied that it could only survive in the new era with fair dealing and a well-defined constitutional arrangement. The lack of clear legislative boundaries not only injured Irish pride, he argued, but threatened to undermine the prosperity that most expected from the newly won free trade. ‘What security have we for wealth so acquired? If you have a right to bind us in all cases whatsoever, you must have a right to tax us ... whilst you claim that power and have force to exercise it, we are but a treasury, filled for the use of Great Britain.’101 Mutual trust and cooperation were earnestly desired by Dobbs and other Patriots, but only if based on a clear acknowledgement of national rights. Freedom was the first attachment: affection for Britain came second. The Irish ‘want what they have a right to, separated from the bounty of England’, and they ‘wish to have the line between rights and favours ascertained’.102 Thus, free trade, however welcome, was insubstantial if granted merely from a sense of British indulgence or expediency. Patriots insisted on legislative independence to protect it. end p.110




Small, Stephen


As 1781 drew to a close Patriotic pressure mounted, both in parliament and out of doors. They sought a repeal of the Declaratory Act of 1720 , an alteration in Poynings’ Law, an annual mutiny bill, and an independent judiciary holding tenure by good behaviour rather than by the will of the executive. Initially, the Lord Lieutenant, now the Earl of Carlisle, allowed the passage of a Habeas Corpus Act,103 but refused any further concessions. The two pivotal events in overcoming this resistance were the Dungannon Convention of Ulster Volunteers on 15 February 1782 and the change of ministry in Britain in the following month. The strength the Volunteer movement demonstrated at Dungannon was important, but it was by no means clear that this would have been enough to force the legislative independence without the fall of Lord North. Grattan’s motion for independence in the wake of Dungannon on 22 February was defeated by a motion postponing debate on the issue by 137 votes to 68.104 It was not until the resignation of North during the Irish parliament’s Easter recess that the balance of power changed decisively in the Patriots’ favour. The new ministry of the Rockingham and Shelburne Whigs, which had close connections with Patriot parliamentarians, was now expected to make good promises made in opposition. On 16 April parliament reopened, with the Duke of Portland as Lord Lieutenant in place of Carlisle. This time a stirring speech by Grattan in support of legislative independence inspired the Commons to pass his resolution without dissent. The executive acquiesced, and between May and July much of the Patriot programme was effected. The Irish parliament secured its legislative independence through the repeal of the Declaratory Act by the British parliament, and an amended Poynings’ Law105 removed the right of the Irish and English Privy Councils to change Irish bills. (The king retained the right of veto, however, and still returned Irish bills under the seal of Great Britain.) The Irish parliament also secured the independency of Irish judges,106 confirmed that appeals and writs of error be heard in the Irish parliament or in Irish courts only,107 and passed a Catholic Relief Act which swept away all of the remaining restrictions on land ownership.108 This course of events shows that the efficacy of Patriot rhetoric depended on a context of political upheaval and reformist activity throughout the British Empire. After the entry of France to the war on the American side in 1778, criticism of the government’s handling of the conflict mounted and the chances of a British defeat increased. This prospect, end p.111

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combined with economic disruption, led to British unrest and encouraged an upsurge in radical activity in both Britain and Ireland.109 North’s ministry was weakened and left in no position to deal firmly with Ireland even if it had possessed the resolve to do so. Patriots had the opportunity to press home Irish trade and constitutional grievances while the British ministry was in disarray. British weakness had given Irish Patriots the confidence vital for the development of their rhetoric of virtue and rights, and the opportunity to translate them into major concessions. This was undoubtedly the highwater mark of Irish Patriotism. Yet in their moment of victory, the Patriots’ theoretical foundations were already showing cracks. The use of a classical republican theory of popular virtue, while in many ways extremely effective, was becoming complicated in Ireland for two reasons. First, the object of popular virtue was ambiguous. Depending on whether Patriots focused on the British government or the Irish political world of College Green, martial spirit could be protecting either the external liberty of Ireland with respect to Britain or the internal liberty of ‘the people’ with respect to their own ruling class. This ambiguity could be submerged while the majority of Protestant Irishmen found common cause in their constitutional struggle with Britain, but the implications for internal politics were clear well before some Volunteers shifted their focus to political reform in 1782. Secondly, the right to exercise popular virtue depended not only on property and rank, but on religion also. In Ireland, to ask whether ‘the people’ should include all men or only men of some property inevitably raised a second set of questions.110 Could ‘the people’ safely include educated, wealthy, and ‘respectable’ Catholics if a property qualification excluded their poor co-religionists, or were all ‘Papists’ to be excluded from the political nation while the meanest Protestant exerted political influence? Classical republicans could differ wildly in their answers to these questions while adhering to very similar analyses of power and liberty. Sheridan, for example, believed in the established liberties of balanced government but had little interest in radical extensions of political rights either to Catholics or down the social scale. Drennan (although suspicious of Catholicism) began to see such radical reforms as essential to the preservation of liberty. The tensions caused by such divergent interpretations of a shared theory will be a major theme of the next chapter. end p.112


4 Patriotism and Radical Reform, 1782-1785 Stephen Small

After 1782, many Irish Patriots developed a genuinely radical agenda focused on parliamentary reform. This put the broad church of Irish Patriotism under immense strain, as previous allies disagreed about the merits of radical reform and the prudence



of Catholic inclusion in the polity. This chapter charts these developments and the theoretical issues they raised. Sections I and II deal briefly with two introductory issues: the divisions caused by the renunciation dispute of 1782-3 and the general context of British reformist thought, which significantly informed Irish plans in the 1780s. Section III examines the use of the Volunteers and ‘the people’ in theoretical justifications for popular political intervention, and Section IV shows how ancient constitutionalism and natural rights made sense of this new belief in popular sovereignty, albeit in different and often contradictory ways. Section V then examines problems in defining the role and size of ‘the people’ and shows how these reflected tensions between classical republican and natural rights justifications for popular intervention. Sections VI to VIII examine the ideological difficulties Protestants had with Catholic inclusion in the political nation, explaining them in terms of tensions between classical republicanism and Protestant superiority. In conclusion, Section IX surveys the plans for reform that emerged from these ideas—charting the rise and fall of the Irish reform movement of the 1780s.

I . THE RENUNCIATION DISPUTE The renunciation dispute of 1782-3 revealed the fragility of Patriot unity within weeks of the victory of 1782. The dispute arose from a feeling among radical Patriots that legislative independence was insecure, and their questions about the precise implications for Irish sovereignty of the repeal of the Declaratory Act led many to believe ‘simple repeal’ insufficient for independence. These doubts were seized on by Henry Flood and by radical Volunteers, both in Ulster and in Dublin’s Lawyers’ Corps. The latter end p.113


barely concealed its view that independence was insecure when it elected a committee to enquire ‘whether any, and if any, what acts have been done by the British Parliament, whereby it must be deemed to have fully, finally, and irrevocably acknowledged the sole and exclusive right of the Irish Parliament to legislate for this country, in all cases, as well external as internal’.1 As Britain had legislated for Ireland before the Declaratory Act of 1720 , the corps worried that this pre-existing precedent was not annulled by simple repeal of that act. As the British peer Lord Beauchamp put it, ‘the repeal proposed would only carry things back to the situation they were in before the 6th of George the First [i.e. the Declaratory Act], at which period Great Britain was in full exercise of the power of binding Ireland’.2 Hence, many Patriots thought that only an explicit renunciation of Britain’s right to legislate for Ireland would secure legislative independence.



Flood, who had lost Patriotic credibility by taking the office of Vice-Treasurer in 1775,3 saw the dispute as both a genuine cause for complaint and a means to re-establish his authority among Patriots. Grattan complacently misjudged their mood by calling for a period of calm and an acceptance of British good will at face value.4 Hence, within months of receiving ^50,000 for his services to the nation, Grattan had been replaced in the Volunteers’ affections by Flood. Grattan even felt obliged to relinquish his colonelcy of the Independent Dublin Volunteers after receiving its address calling for an express and voluntary renunciation from Britain and an act from the Irish parliament securing their rights.5 The naming of Ireland, probably accidentally, in a British act regulating trade seemed to confirm Irish concerns about British duplicity. By January 1783 feelings ran high enough to induce the British parliament to pass the Renunciation Act, which explicitly renounced its right to legislate for Ireland and declared the independence of the Irish parliament. The renunciation dispute could be seen as an essentially trivial concern escalated by the personal feud between Grattan and Flood (which later end p.114


came to a head spectacularly during an astonishingly violent exchange in the Commons on 28 October 1783).6 But there were substantive issues at stake that brought latent tensions between moderate and radical Patriotism into the open for the first time. Grattan’s stance sought to combine good will towards Britain and trust of its motives, with the practical assertion of Irish rights. For Grattan, once the substance of legislative independence had been won, harmonious Anglo-Irish relations took precedence over precise delineation of rights. The advocates of renunciation, however, demonstrated a deep mistrust of all government appropriate to vigilant Real Whigs. This could only be assuaged by irrevocable legal safeguards for Irish rights. The Volunteers thus split temporarily into two camps, with the more radical, led by the two Belfast companies, lining up behind Flood and the moderates backing Grattan and Charlemont.7 The dispute also reveals the continuing importance attached to ancient legal precedent by radical Patriots.8 Given the passions aroused in 1782, it was highly unlikely that British politicians would have tried to legislate for Ireland on the basis of ancient precedent having just repealed the Declaratory Act. Yet many Irishmen obviously believed that, without renunciation, the British parliament would have a plausible case for doing so in the future. As in Britain, precedent, historical explanation, and the ancient constitution remained crucial polemical battlefields throughout this period.

II . THE BRITISH CONTEXT OF PARLIAMENTARY REFORM If radical Irish Patriots were still suspicious of the British government in 1782, they were not suspicious of all Britons. Indeed, leading British reformers were an important http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p031_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:02


source of intellectual inspiration for Irish reformers. As in Ireland, the British reform movement was a loose and uneasy coalition. In the early 1780s it was chiefly comprised of metropolitan radicals (such as John Jebb and Major Cartwright), Whig parliamentarians (such as Fox, Burke, Rockingham, and Shelburne), and members of county associations (such as Wyvill and his Yorkshire Association).9 The common concern of reformers, that an overweening executive was destroying end p.115




Small, Stephen


liberty, was best summed up by John Dunning’s motion in the British Commons on 6 April 1780—which declared that ‘the influence of the crown has increased, is increasing and ought to be diminished’. However, the reformers’ preferred means of redress differed markedly, reflecting underlying views of the constitution that were fundamentally opposed. The metropolitan radicals in the Society for Constitutional Information adopted Cartwright’s six-point plan for parliamentary reform, which consisted of annual elections, universal male suffrage, secret ballots, equal electoral constituencies, payment for MPs, and the abolition of property qualifications for MPs. Wyvill desired a less radical reform which would shorten parliaments (an initial proposal of annual parliaments was moderated to triennial) and add 100 county seats as a counterbalance to pocket boroughs controlled by the ministry. This platform appealed to the independent propertied gentry rather than the nation at large. Many opposition Whigs, particularly among the Rockinghams, were suspicious of any serious reform of parliament and were primarily interested in ‘economical reform’. They shared the general concern that corruption had led to growing executive control of the legislature, but sought to counter it by reform of the financial mechanisms of this control (such as executive distribution of places and pensions) rather than reform of the franchise or a redistribution of seats. Thus, there was an important division between parliamentary and economical reformers over the best means to control the executive. However, there was also a fundamental division between those who upheld the connection between property and political power while hoping to counterbalance a tyrannical executive with additional county representation or anti-corruption measures, and those radicals who were beginning to reject the received wisdom that political power should be derived from property. The primary concern of the former was the old ‘Country’ preoccupation with accountability and quality of government, but the radicals were increasingly motivated by belief in popular sovereignty based on a literal reading of natural rights.10 These serious tensions between mainstream opposition Whiggism, Country ideology, and emerging radicalism split the loose coalition of reformers once the fall of Lord North and peace with America removed the focus of opposition which had kept them together. The brief Whig rule of the Rockingham-Shelburne ministry in 1782 did pass some economical reforms, but, as in Ireland, there was never a parliamentary end p.116




majority for even moderate parliamentary reform. The measure was defeated in 1783 and then again in 1785, when it even had the support of Pitt as prime minister. By 1784-5, the reduction of crown patronage by administrative reform, and the revival of trade and prosperity, had taken parliamentary reform off the agenda in Britain. The Irish reform movement had much in common with its British counterpart. It shared similar rhetoric and was plagued by similar divisions. It even petered out at roughly the same time.11 But the differences are just as instructive. Until the victory over legislative independence in 1782, parliamentary reform was a secondary consideration even for radical Patriots. Thus, the split in the Irish Patriots between mainstream Whigs and radicals, apparent in 1780, did not fully emerge until two years later. The most crucial difference in British and Irish circumstances, however, was the Catholic issue. This created such tensions and divisions among the radical Patriots that serious debate was often avoided, but eventually only the most myopic reformers could ignore the question of Catholic inclusion in the polity. Thus, when Irish reformers tackled controversial issues such as the role and definition of the people, and the relationship between property, rationality, and political power, they faced difficulties that their British counterparts did not have to deal with. Much of this chapter examines the problems they had in defining ‘the people’ and deciding on the roles they wished them to perform.

III . THE IDEAL OF THE VOLUNTEER IN THE EMERGENCE OF POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY Fundamental to the movement for radical parliamentary reform was the need to establish the right of a larger group of Irishmen to participate in politics. Indeed, even moderate reformers more concerned with government accountability than an extension of the franchise sought to establish the propriety of occasional interventions by ‘the people’ to redress constitutional grievances. This intervention could be based on a mixture of precedent, utility, natural right, and the need to balance the constitution— arguments very similar to those used by British reformers. But the Volunteers gave Irishmen a contemporary and concrete example of effective, popular political organization, which could not be matched in Britain by end p.117


the Association movement or the Society for Constitutional Information. Their example inspired reformers and encouraged a rhetorical construction of ‘the people’ that embodied civic virtue and martial spirit. By contrast, in the wake of the Gordon Riots, popular participation in British politics conjured up largely negative images of disorder and the destruction of property.



The Volunteer had become the embodiment of popular will and the agent of popular opposition to the corrupt executive. He could now be pressed into service by parliamentary reformers as a model for all successful popular political intervention and, in his absence, as an explanation for their failure or absence. His conduct also provided a precedent and a justification for popular intervention. If popular intervention had been legal and constitutional in 1782, it must also be so in 1783. If popular intervention had been indispensable in winning free trade and legislative independence, it would be indispensable again in correcting other constitutional ills. In the view of radicals, a publicly grateful elite could only question the utility or legality of popular intervention with great difficulty in the light of recent events. Such questioning, nevertheless, was commonplace among conservatives (it was the main pretext for parliamentary rejection of the Volunteers’ reform project in December 1783), and it inspired the anger of one radical pamphleteer. ‘They admit that the interposition of the people has in its consequences been eminently useful, but at the same time they assert that it is itself unconstitutional.’ As he went on to point out, such interpretations of the constitution were inherently unstable, for if true, they set up a ‘melancholy contradiction’ between ‘public welfare’ and ‘the spirit of the constitution’.12 Radicals felt that the intervention of the people was not only entirely within the spirit of the constitution, but also the precondition of reform. Thomas Drought even thought Ireland’s Volunteer experience could teach the English how an armed people could best achieve reform and preserve liberty. This was a remarkable reversal in the flow of political instruction from the younger ‘sister’ to the elder (or from daughter to mother in British eyes). Drought asserted that ‘the whole body of the Volunteers’, not just individuals such as Grattan, had ‘set Ireland free’.13 And while England was ‘in the prey of adventurers, gamblers and rogues of all sorts’, Ireland had ‘a spirit of Patriotism glowing in the breasts of all its inhabitants’.14 end p.118


Thus, it was hardly surprising that British efforts at parliamentary reform had failed in the early 1780s. Pursuing the logic of Patriot models of British cyclical decay, it was evident that British public spirit was insufficient for the arduous task of reform.15 For Drought, this lack of spirit might have been revived by a genuine invasion threat in Britain, which had been a catalyst for public virtue in Ireland during the American war. In the case of a serious threat to England ‘the inhabitants would have armed’, Drought argued, and ‘when once they had taken the power into their hands they would have adjusted their mixed government, taught the venal sycophants and Magistrates at court, and even the House of Br—sw—k, those lessons it was perfect in, when it came to the E—sh Th—ne; but which time and prosperity may have worn away in its recollection’.16 The view that the lack of an armed citizenry on the volunteer model was the chief obstacle to reform in England was shared by other Irish radicals. It was stated quite bluntly by one that ‘the manners of the people of England are too much corrupted http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p032_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:31


to expect a reform in their constitution, which requires a great share of public virtue both in the planning and execution’.17 The superior public virtue of the Volunteers was even endorsed by an eminent English radical. In his reply to the Ulster Volunteer Committee’s circular letter, Major John Cartwright confessed that in England we have not yet had at any period a prospect of effecting a complete reform; but in Ireland, your volunteer army—the most glorious production of public virtue that ever adorned a nation!—have perfection or imperfection wholly in their option. The conduct of that army has hitherto manifested too much wisdom and too much Patriotism to leave it doubtful which choice it will make.18 In Drought’s eyes, the virtue of the Volunteers was so superior to the venal political elite’s, that he even thought them justified in dictating reform to parliament. There seemed to be ‘no body of men competent to give Ireland a Bill of Rights, but the Volunteers, who should form a deputation for that express purpose’. The deputation would seek advice from leading reformers, and by submitting its plans for the sanction of provincial meetings it would become evidently more representative of ‘the people’ than parliament. This popular assent would then legitimize its reform plans into ‘a fundamental Law of the Irish constitution, which no parliament could disannul; for it would be a Law to parliament itself.19 In the eyes of end p.119


Drought, ‘the people’ had not only become politicized through Volunteering, they had become the basis of an alternative representative body that could dictate law to parliament. This striking image of a popular Volunteer-led convention, or antiparliament, usurping the Irish parliament constituted a revolutionary threat to the established order. Drought seems to have been influenced by the arguments of British radical John Jebb.20 But his use of the Volunteers gave the model a militaristic element that was uniquely Irish: it almost became a reality with the National Volunteer Convention of 1783. There had been some interest in parliamentary reform among the Volunteers before 1783 (assemblies of Volunteers had passed general resolutions calling for a widening of the franchise while agitating for legislative independence in 1781 and 1782).21 But the National Convention was effectively the culmination of a series of local meetings in 1783 that had raised the issue of parliamentary reform, notably a convention of 45 companies of Ulster Volunteers at Lisburn on 1 July 1783. This Lisburn convention set up a committee of correspondence to seek the advice of leading British reformers and organized a third Dungannon Convention of Ulster Volunteers for 8 September 1783.22 This convention, in turn, passed a number of resolutions identifying Ireland’s constitutional problems and called for a National Convention in Dublin.23 Of all the late eighteenth-century conventions in the British Isles, this National Convention came the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p032_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:31


closest to challenging parliamentary sovereignty by assuming quasi-legislative powers.24 Its threat was so obvious to contemporaries that they even used the word ‘parliament’ to refer to it.25 However, the National Convention was ultimately unsuccessful. The image of MPs Henry Flood and William Brownlow coming straight from the Convention in Volunteer uniform to put its demands before the Commons was too threatening to be tolerated even by members sympathetic to reform. As one opponent bluntly put it, should ‘the Reformers of end p.120




Small, Stephen


a Government... be armed bodies of men?... no man can debate freedom, with a bayonet at his breast’.26 Prominent Volunteers also felt uneasy with behaviour that threatened the authority of parliament. At a meeting of Leinster Volunteers a month before the National Convention, there was serious disagreement over the authority of the people to correct constitutional abuses. Colonel Hatton’s proposal ‘that it is ONLY through the medium of the legislature that we do hope for constitutional redress’ was opposed by radicals. But the resulting compromise resolution, ‘that such reform can best and most constitutionally be attained through the medium of our legislature’, only passed unanimously because it said very little.27 It left open the question of what role the people should play in the highly likely event of parliament rejecting their proposed reforms, and it could be agreed to by moderates or radicals. In the end, despite all their martial spirit, the Volunteers did nothing when parliament rejected the demands of the National Convention except meekly disperse at the behest of a petrified Charlemont. Writing in 1784, Andrew Doria28 accused the Irish parliament of ‘presumption’ in rejecting reform and demanded a dissolution of this defunct ‘mock-Parliament’. By disparaging parliament in similar language to that used by conservatives about the Convention, he demonstrated the struggle for legitimacy between the two assemblies.29 For the radicals, parliament was not just in need of a few more uncorrupted members, it had forfeited its claim to represent the people and needed to be replaced. The genuine radicalism of such claims inevitably frightened the political elite into solid opposition. Even moderate reformers who thought that ‘a more equal representation of the people, being founded in justice, would be productive of good effects’ began to ask ‘have we not at present a double parliament?’ The ‘furious and levelling rage’ and ‘wild schemes’, which this author saw in radical rhetoric, were in danger of alienating even those broadly sympathetic to reform.30 The Patriot reformers were beginning to split. end p.121


IV . ANCIENT CONSTITUTIONALISM, NATURAL RIGHTS, AND POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY To play down the radicalism of Volunteer conventions, Patriots compared them to http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p033_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:58


previous popular interventions. Drawing on historical, legal, and ancient constitutional arguments, the Volunteer Convention was presented as the latest in a long series of historical precedents that demonstrated the restorative effects of popular action. Indeed, it is testimony to the continuing importance of ancient constitutionalism in the 1780s that arguments in favour of popular intervention based on natural rights or utility were often buttressed with arguments based on the historic role of the people in defending the British Isles from tyranny. One Patriot justified Volunteer intervention by praising the people’s role in opposing King John and James II. The Magna Charta had been the result of ‘vigorous interposition of the subjects on their own behalf’, and the Revolution of 1688 had produced a second ‘great charter [the Bill of Rights] ... by the joint resistance of all ranks of men against the arbitrary measures of King James the Second’.31 These actions were then placed in the context of the ancient constitution to explain the precedent for popular intervention. The fundamental principles of the constitution ‘are certain immemorial usages, whose antiquity, if other proofs were wanting, speaks their superior wisdom: and certain memorable precedents, in which the just and virtuous struggles of our ancestors, recognized as just and virtuous by the common consent of successive generations, point out to their posterity how we ought to act under similar circumstances’.32 This outlook dovetailed neatly with the restoration of the ancient constitution sought by most reformers and radicals throughout the British Isles. The resolutions of the Ulster Volunteers at Dungannon in 1783 suggest that most of them held this conception of the constitution. They identified certain ‘fundamental principles’, such as annual elections and universal suffrage among freemen, to justify their argument that parliamentary reform was a ‘renovation of, not an innovation in, the constitution’.33 However, a significant minority of radicals were unhappy with the common reliance on precedent, and some completely rejected the validity of arguments based on historical precedent. Peter Burrowes saw the constitution as the property of the people, whatever its historical origin. This gave the people an inalienable right ‘to make whatever alterations in it shall end p.122


appear necessary to their happiness and security’. For Burrowes, ‘the inalienable rights of a people depend not upon precedents’.34 One disgruntled Munster delegate to the National Convention even went so far as to admit that Volunteer conventions were illegal if judged on constitutional grounds, but that such grounds were of secondary importance to ‘the sacred, inalienable right of the people to interfere with the public good’. This was a much more fundamental right and one ‘not to be sought or found in mildewed rolls of parchment or musty statute books, but written by the express hand of God, on the human breast’. In this delegate’s view, ‘too scrupulous an adherence to antient forms and principles, is unworthy of our noble cause, unworthy of enlarged and liberal spirits’.35 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p033_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:58


In a similar vein, the anonymous author of A Letter to Henry Flood, argued that precedent was irrelevant. The constitution was merely the result of a series of historical accidents, which in themselves conferred no legitimacy. It was fruitless to enter into an historical detail concerning the time Representation first appeared in our constitution, or who were its constituent members. Modern writers are in these enquiries too much influenced, I had almost said corrupted, by the lawyers, who must have precedent for every blessing they enjoy.... If Representation has all the advantages allowed it, how useless is it to recur to ages of obscurity and confusion to enquire its origin; how superfluous to examine whether the institution be derived from accident or wisdom.36 Like the Munster delegate, this writer also urged a healthy disrespect for precedent. Attend not therefore to such as tell you, it would be sacrilege to touch what time has sanctified, and that you have no precedents to act by. Can time sanctify oppression? are you to wait your being ruined by precedent? will you not rather abolish an acknowledged evil? how absurd to suppose the establishment of human rights ... can depend on the doubtful conveyance, or interpretation of musty parchment!37 end p.123


Another powerful argument against precedent was the inaccuracy or scarcity of evidence about the constitution before relatively recent times. The anonymous correspondent of Flood argued that no one really knew what the constitution had been until the time of Charles I-a reign which, ironically, merely demonstrated serious defects in the operation of the constitution.38 Other radicals tried to bring a more realistic and objective eye to British and Irish history. Andrew Doria, for example, heartily dismissed the wistful and inaccurate praise heaped on the ancient constitution by many reformers. [F]rom the first Edward to the date of the Stewarts, I challenge any man to mark an aera whereat he should not blush to exhibit the House of Commons as a pattern for imitation. If we are to look back for example we must contract our view to the Revolution, and the history subsequent, yet even there the most improved and dignified portion of our records, it would be difficult to find a page where truth could set her finger and declare—here was a Parliament a model for posterity.39 Doria thought it dangerous to cloak the demands of reformers in the mantle of renovation to a distant, or even despotic, past. If reforms could be shown to be just and rational, what did it matter whether they had ever been realized before? In marked contrast to the first characterization of the constitution given in this section, Doria http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p033_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:58


recognized the contingent nature of the constitution in a way that destroyed its mystique and opened the way for rational changes. The constitution was not ‘the primitive construction of any age, nor the device of any wisdom; the complicated fabrick has been scarred by a happy coincidence of fortuitous incidents, operating with time and the liberal genius of the people’. Given these haphazard constitutional precedents Irishmen should ‘not be cheated into reverence for the fabled antiquity of any dangerous mode, nor deterred by the bugbear innovation from applying a wholesome remedy to the diseases of the state’.40 These important early arguments against precedent and ancient constitutionalism reflected a growing, if still minority, opinion. They are very advanced in their tone and they foreshadow the Burke-Paine controversy seven years later. They also distance these Irish radicals from their British contemporaries.41 Whereas British radicals of the early 1780s always called for renovation of the constitution to its former purity (at least in public), some Irish radicals were not so sure it had been that pure, or that former end p.124


purity even mattered.42 In their minds, the evils of the Irish constitution were so great that they were already thinking of rebuilding from the foundations rather than restoration. But most Irish radicals could still, at this stage, happily mix universal suffrage and annual parliaments with calls for the renovation of the ancient constitution in the style of Cartwright’s TAKE YOUR CHOICE! (1776). Memmius, for example, whose radical rhetoric is just as violent and challenging as Doria’s, was adamant that he sought not to innovate but ‘to restore the Constitution to its original state’.43 It seems, therefore, that we can already distinguish between two styles of radicalism, but too strict a division would be unwise. For it is likely that some of the rhetoric of renovation was tactical rather than heartfelt. The standard response of opponents to reform was its castigation as ‘innovation’. This gave it an untried air that smacked of dangerous tampering with the constitution and the Revolution settlement. It was an effective tactic because of the deep belief of most Protestant Irishmen that the ‘British’ constitution was the best ever created—despite flaws in its Irish operation. Doria tried to subvert this attack by pointing out the innovative nature of previous deeply cherished reforms. He noted that in their own time, all the previous advances in liberty were regarded as innovations. The Magna Charta was an innovation on kingly power and the corporations an innovation on noble power. The reformation was an innovation, as was the expulsion of the Stuarts and even the House of Commons itself.44 But given the hold of the ancient constitution on most minds, arguments that rejected or ridiculed precedent often played into reactionary hands. Many radicals must have realized this and would have been reluctant to use such arguments. In one sense, Doria’s defence of innovation can, in any case, be seen as a demonstration of the continuing power of historical and legal argument. The need to justify in terms of precedent was so strong http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p033_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:03:58


that his critique of ancient constitutionalism justified rational reforms by reference to the precedent of previous rational reforms. Nevertheless, his self-conscious rationalism does mark a new type of radicalism, which began to explain the role of the people primarily in terms of natural rights and social contracts. Initially, as in Britain, the two styles often overlapped. Alongside Memmius’s ancient constitutionalism was a straightforward application of end p.125




Small, Stephen


social contract theory and popular sovereignty. For Memmius, the good of the people was ‘the original, the reason, and the end of all good government’. It was on this assumption that men entered civil society and obeyed governments. Hence, when ‘the mal-administration of governors’ subverted ‘those ties by which they and the governed were at first united’, the people ‘not only may, but must, and will take the rein of government into their own hands’.45 This reversion of sovereignty to the people was, for some, the very definition of freedom, and it ultimately entailed a right of resistance. Indeed, one pamphleteer thought it an ‘abuse of terms’ to call ‘a people, who have not a power of ultimate resistance to their oppressors ... a free people’.46 W. W. Seward was another radical who saw the principles of the constitution in terms of rights and contracts. For him all men were by nature equal, which entailed that ‘the subject can be bound only by those laws to which he consents’. The subject could give this consent ‘either by himself, or his representatives, freely and voluntarily chosen’, but the current set of MPs could hardly claim to have been freely and voluntarily chosen by the people. Hence, parliament was not acting with the consent of the people and its laws had no binding authority. Furthermore, Seward agreed with Locke and Memmius that government was instituted to preserve natural rights and provide security from oppression. Power was entrusted to the government by the people for this purpose only, and if that trust was broken, supreme power reverted to them. Seward’s description of the Irish government as ‘a venal herd of prostituted sycophants, living on the spoils of their country’ who ‘betray every public trust, and sacrifice her dearest rights’ left the reader in little doubt that, in his mind, the government had failed the test of consent and broken its contract with the people.47 If the newly elected parliament of 1783 failed to reform itself, he argued, the people had an undoubted right to take matters into their own hands. Seward was typical in his eclectic use of ideas. His language of trust, consent, and rights was backed up by references to Locke and Price.48 But he also quoted Montesquieu on balanced government, Machiavelli on the superiority of constitutions that naturally renew themselves and Bolingend p.126


broke on the need of all good governments to frequently revert to first principles to counteract their inevitable degeneration. Seward exhibited the classic mentality of late http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p034_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:04:23


eighteenth-century radicals—a mentality that accommodated a wide variety of influences in its political language. Country concern with court corruption, classical republican models of balanced government and cyclical degeneration, a belief in the purity of an ancient Anglo-Saxon constitution, and the natural rights of the people happily converged in a damning critique of the existing government. The power of this jumbled rhetoric encouraged a widespread, if ill-defined, belief in some form of popular sovereignty. As one author put it, ‘even by those who may not approve of the interposition of the people in general, it will not be disputed, that the authority of the legislature is ultimately derived from the authority of the People’.49 He was probably right. Even anti-reform pamphlets admitted the people’s ‘right to reform a corrupted government’ while arguing against the use of this right on the grounds that it would lead to civil war.50 But there was underlying uncertainty among radicals and reformers about the nature and scope of the people’s role. Who the people were, how authority was derived from them, how far down the social scale political power should descend, and what types of political power were appropriate to different ranks were all a source of debate and confusion. In short, while Patriots approved of popular intervention in principle, they disagreed about the types of interventions that were acceptable and the kinds of people who should carry them out.

V . DEFINING ‘THE PEOPLE’ AND THEIR ROLE If radical reformers were groping towards a broad and deep popular sovereignty that might imply universal suffrage, many moderate reformers distinguished the right of the people to intervene in emergencies from an ongoing right of participation in ordinary politics. This distinction encouraged at least two meanings of the term ‘the people’: the mass of the populace and a smaller group of propertied and educated individuals. In some eyes this smaller group merely included the enfranchised, in others a much larger set of middling sorts. To complicate matters further, many reformers shifted (sometimes disingenuously) between different definitions. When their rhetoric needed popular appeal they talked of ‘the people’ as if it were a single, unified body. But when it came to specific political rights such as voting they often applied a narrower definition. end p.127


The roots of this disagreement lay in a clash between two types of argument for popular intervention: natural rights and classical republican func-tionalism. Rightsbased arguments readily support a wide definition of ‘the people’ because rights are grounded in basic shared factors such as nationality, divine creation, or rationality. Political participation is a precondition of individual freedom and even an end in itself. However, functional arguments value popular intervention because it checks the corruption and arbitrary power of the executive. Popular intervention produces good http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p034_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:04:23


government or defends liberty. It is a means not an end in itself. Thus, classical republican arguments tied definitions of ‘the people’ to their perceived capacities and the task required of them. In an emergency, such as a foreign invasion, ‘the people’ would be all encompassing. With more complex issues, such as law-making, or even choosing an MP, ‘the people’ would shrink to a smaller set of rational or virtuous individuals. Given these two models, it is hardly surprising that there was sharp disagreement about exactly who comprised ‘the people’ and what their political role should be. Some reformers also became horribly muddled, as the resolutions of the Ulster Volunteers at Dungannon in 1783 show. Their second resolution stated, ‘That they only are free, who are governed by no laws but those to which they assent either by themselves in personor by their representatives freely chosen.’ Yet resolution six stated, ‘That the elective franchise ought, of right, to extend to all those, and those only, who are likely to exercise it, for the public good.’51 This ambiguity is both worthy of note and indicative of a dilemma at the heart of Irish radicalism. Resolution six implies that not all men should vote. But this means that some men would, by definition, not be free according to resolution two. This conclusion also flatly contradicts their lofty opening assertion, ‘That freedom is the indefeasible birthright of Irishmen and Britons, derived from the author of their being; and of which, no power on earth, much less a delegated power, hath a right to deprive them.’52 Essentially, the resolutions were a fudge between rights-based and functional justifications with the latter providing a check on the radical populism of the former. In the last resort, functional arguments usually dominated in the 1780s. Hence, a full understanding of ‘the people’ as a category can only be gleaned from the assumptions that radicals and Patriots held about rationality and virtue. For if’the people’ functioned as the vehicle for rationality and virtue to overcome corruption and tyranny, then its constituent parts must be those deemed to have these attributes. As we will see below, this capacity end p.128


was traditionally seen to depend upon a combination of property, education, and Protestantism. Peter Burrowes was one of the few radicals to give a clear definition of ‘the people’. For Burrowes, ‘when the rights of the people are talked of, the whole community is understood’, which meant ‘not only the electors, but every individual, who owes national allegiance to the state, contributes to the expences of government, or is a natural born subject’. The existing electors, he argued, were merely a small body who were ‘not selected from the rest by any distinguishing mark of superior public virtue, or more enlightened intelligence’.53 Hence, there was no good reason to restrict ‘the people’ to this category. However, such broad definitions of ‘the people’ could still be http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p034_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:04:23


combined with a restriction of their role to restoring the constitution or restraining its executive. Arguments to Prove the Interposition of the People also favoured a very wide definition of ‘the people’ and declared the authority of the legislature to be derived from them. But ‘the great body of the people’, he asserted, ‘will not interfere on any but momentous occasions’. Their interventions were restricted to political emergencies. It was only because they were ill-served by a parliament perverted from its original design, ‘that the People have been obliged to, in the last resort, interpose in their collective capacity, in order to have the public grievances redressed’.54 The common people should not play a role in day to day government, however, and if parliament were not so corrupt and unrepresentative they need play no role at all. Similarly, one moderate had no wish for ‘an armed democracy’ that would supersede the authority of parliament. He felt the constitution needed only extraordinary interventions by its military guardians. For if’the sacred fire’ of liberty was brought forth upon ‘common occasions’, it would ‘not be reverenced’ when really needed. The Volunteers’ right to intervene as the armed embodiment of the people was defended but strictly circumscribed, and in his view the reform plans of the Volunteer Convention transgressed a boundary between emergency intervention and ordinary politics.55 The anonymous Letter to Henry Flood, explained why ‘appeals to the people at large ought not to be made frequently, or on slight occasions’ with an argument that could have come straight from Aristotle or Plato. As the bulk of every community is ‘destined to a life of action, not of speculation’, they were necessarily obliged ‘to confine their time and exertions to the support of human life’ (as opposed to speculation on political affairs, which end p.129


required leisure time simply not available to the poor). However, the people should be consulted ‘on every important occasion’, for ‘the general principles of liberty and of law are as obvious to the understanding as those of religion’.56 The simplicity of some basic political issues meant that the people only needed a base level of rationality common to all to recognize tyranny and enable them to act in extremis to preserve liberty. But meaningful involvement in everyday decision-making was beyond the people in this model. Radicals who sought a more involved role for the people, therefore, needed to reassess their rationality or to explore how it could be enhanced. Assumptions about the level of property needed for rationality were challenged by assertions of the increased political knowledge of the middling and lower ranks. Memmius pointed out that tradesmen, shopkeepers, and artisans now had knowledge of Locke and Bolingbroke, and that ‘the highest authorities are now familiar to descriptions of men whose sphere of information was formerly confined to the ploughshare’. He even boasted that almost all farmers and http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p034_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:04:23


many peasants possessed a degree of ‘constitutional knowledge’ that ‘many in the House of Commons were ignorant of at so short a distance back as ten years’.57 By challenging the link between property and rationality, radicals were challenging the link between property and political power. But they were often unsure of how rational the poor could be or how much power they should have. Hence, the relationship between property and power desired by radicals was often ambiguous. Most made some sort of criticism of their linkage, especially the practice of holding parliamentary seats as private property. For example, one ‘Limerick Freeholder’ complained about the 200 borough seats that had ‘become private property’ and which were ‘nearly as publicly sold, as bullocks, sheep or wool’. Similarly, Andrew Doria railed that ‘places in the National Assembly are claimed like property, and bartered or retained by individuals as suits their avarice and ambition’. For him this was ‘an absolute flagrant usurpation’.58 However, most reformers did not seek to completely uncouple the link between property and power. Many distinguished between political power as aform of private property and the exercise of political power by the propertied. The reasoning of the Limerick Freeholder reveals some of the ambiguities surrounding this relationship. He specifically addressed his plan to ‘those in a middling station of life ... because it is among such end p.130




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people, that Virtue and Patriotism ... are more generally to be found’. But he obviously believed the virtue of the modestly propertied had its limits. He objected to those ‘men of small properties’ who ‘creep into the house’ through the purchase of seats, because they were venturing their all ‘in hopes of being useful for ministerial influence’. MPs should be men of considerable property who were able to spurn bribery. Thus, it was the virtue of the middling sorts acting as a control—as a guarantee against electoral corruption—that was required. The middling sorts should choose but should not be chosen as representatives.59 Hence, political power as property that could be bought or sold was rejected, but property-owning still had an important role in the distribution of political power because it predicted moral and political characteristics and secured the independence of the political agent. The Limerick Freeholder showed no desire for radical change in the social composition of the political elite. He was essentially concerned with controlling the corrupt and self-interested executive rather than extending political power to the lower ranks or raising the virtuous middling sorts to political office. The most tentative reformers took this reasoning to its logical conclusion and were barely concerned with the franchise at all so long as it produced representatives ‘of respectable character and property in the country’.60 More radical reformers were concerned with extending the franchise as a good in its own right, but even those taking a rights-based approach to representation were unwilling or unable to divorce power from property. A striking example of the inherent tensions in radicalism between functionalist arguments for representation based on property and rights-based arguments for a wider franchise came from the letters of the Munster delegate discussed above. In his first letter, he supported the main resolution of the Dungannon Convention ‘that in a free state, EVERY individual ought to give his assent, either in person or through his representative, to those laws by which he is bound’.61 Yet his second letter understood it to be the first principle of our constitution, that it is property which is represented in parliament—for if we admit that persons, independent of the consideration of property, are to be represented, there can be no solid reason given why every man in the kingdom, who is not a pauper or a malefactor, should not be entitled to vote.... The right of voting is therefore not a right annexed to the person, but to the property possessed by the person.62 end p.131




This is such a flat contradiction of his first letter that it is possible he was bought off by the government, or that another pamphleteer also used his pseudonym. But given that the letters were collected together and reprinted as a set, it seems more likely that it represents a confused clash of political ideas in the mind of the same writer. (Interestingly, the idea of paupers voting was so inconceivable, that even if voting were a right attached to persons they still should not have it.) Thus, the majority of even radical reformers did not break the connection between rationality, virtue, and property when it came to redistributing political power to the people, and if some did, the break was not systematic or widely shared. An expanded role for the virtuous and Patriotic middling sorts was welcomed, but this did not mean they were suited to be MPs. The poor were rational and virtuous enough to protect their basic liberties, but there were doubts as to whether they should choose their representatives and they certainly should not play a role in government. The aristocratic and parliamentary elite may have been persistently vilified for their assumption of political power as personal property in the form of rotten boroughs, places, and patronage, but their wealth, and especially their landed property, still made them the natural governors of Ireland.

VI . CLASSICAL REPUBLICANISM, PROTESTANT SUPERIORITY, AND CATHOLIC CITIZENSHIP If there was one obstacle to political power even more serious than a lack of property in late eighteenth-century Ireland, it was Catholicism-and it caused problems for similar reasons. Just as the perceived importance of property for rationality and independence limited the political role of the poor, so the seeming incompatibility of Catholicism with rationality and virtue discouraged Protestants from supporting full Catholic inclusion in the polity. Toleration of Catholics had undoubtedly increased since mid-century, and many Protestants were prepared to tolerate Catholic worship and concede full civil rights. But all were uneasy about allowing Catholics a political role. Obviously the insecurity of the land settlement, perceived or real, explains a base level of Protestant fear that should not be overlooked. But to understand fully the difficulties Patriots had in coming to terms with the Catholic issue, we must look deeper into how Protestant superiority interacted with the dominant political languages of Patriots—especially classical republicanism. Even radical Protestants believed that Catholics retained characteristics end p.132


that bore directly on their ability to be virtuous and rational citizens. Among the main http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p035_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:04:46


allegations were religious persecution, superstitious beliefs, an overriding allegiance to Rome, and the sanctioning of oath-breaking in the interests of the Church. An extreme example of this Protestant view was Revd George Carson’s sermon to the United Companies of Tullahunco and Balliconnel Volunteers. ‘Popery is of a persecuting spirit, and has always marked her steps, wherever she trod, with blood’, declared Carson. Hence, ‘Protestants must not expect to have any security for their religious liberty from her; for she teaches men to lie for God’s sake, and to violate oaths to serve her interest.’63 This standard complaint was accompanied by an equally familiar reminder of past Catholic atrocities that ‘proved’ the tyrannical spirit of Catholicism. For Carson, ‘The unheard of barbarities and cruelties that Papists have, from time to time, exercised on Protestants would shock human nature to recount’ and were ‘not to be equalled in the pages of history’.64 Such virulent anti-Catholicism was not characteristic of most radical or Patriot literature, but decades of such propaganda had left its mark, and this ingrained aversion to ‘popery’ caused particular problems and tensions for radicals influenced by the classical republican mentality. Given that the demands of rationality and virtue needed to be balanced with the ideal of the common good, the more thoughtful Protestant radicals were left in an extremely difficult position with regard to Catholic political rights. The root of their difficulty was quite simply the incompatibility of classical republicanism with Protestant superiority. Before the seventeenth century, the classical republican tradition was essentially secular. Not only did the political theory of Greece and Rome have little of importance to say about polities in which internal religious divisions were a significant factor, the theory was actually incompatible with such religious divisions. For the identification of political rights and duties with a specific denomination in a religiously divided polity would destroy the republican ideal of virtuous citizens united in their pursuit of the common good. These problems are not surprising. The political ideas of Plato, Aristotle, Polybius, and Cicero could hardly be expected to furnish models for understanding the post-reformation polities of nation-state Europe. Even the Christian republican theorists of the Italian Renaissance, who gave new life to classical republicanism, developed the tradition along an end p.133


essentially secular path.65 They also wrote before the divisions in Christendom created by the Reformation had fundamentally altered European political life. This secular republicanism is particularly evident in Machiavelli, for example, who largely divorced Christian morality from politics and (in The Prince) valued religion only in so far as it could be of use to the ruler in pacifying his people. Of course Protestantism did become powerfully associated with republicanism in the British Isles. As Pocock described in The Machiavellian Moment, seventeenth-century British republicanism fused essentially secular classical concepts with a puritanical



Protestantism to give a ‘saintly’ component to the duties of citizens.66 The free exercise of ‘true’ religion became part of the common good and something to be defended by all good citizens in the face of foreign, Catholic tyranny. This fusion was coherent in overwhelmingly Protestant polities, for Protestantism could become a test of loyalty and citizenship that distinguished members of one polity from another. The classical republican tradition had been founded on the duties and benefits of attachment to one’s fatherland or city (whether a tiny Greek polis or the Roman Empire), and so the zeal with which Protestants sought to avoid Popery merely added to their patriotic attachment to the state. However, in a religiously divided state, such zeal destroys the unity needed by the republic. Radical Irish Protestants could continue to identify their religion exclusively with the republican sensibility. They could ascribe to Protestantism qualities that nurture and allow republican government (such as rationality, virtue, and a belief in the rule of law), and ascribe to Catholicism anti-republican sentiments (such as ignorance, subservience, and superstition). But in a country with a Catholic majority such attitudes destroyed the ideal of the common good by excluding the majority from the rights and fulfilment of citizenship. Or as one radical put it: ‘The left-handed doctrine of governing upon the principle of disunion ... by making war upon the very essence of society, seems to have been intended a peculiar curse for our political sins.’67 The tragedy of the Irish Protestant republican position was that it shared this Protestant-citizen fusion, which was coherent in Britain but not in Ireland.68 Thus, the most end p.134


fervent Irish republicans were likely to be strongly anti-Catholic: for Catholics, they believed, were by definition incapable of republican virtue. This mentality created a vicious dilemma. The common good required all to be good citizens. But as the Catholic majority were deemed incapable of good citizenship, the common good was unattainable. Some radicals were aware of this dilemma and struggled to overcome their prejudices, but many were unable to do so. In the fifth of his Letters of Orellana, William Drennan, for example, argued that ‘Catholics at this day are absolutely INCAPABLE of making a good use of political liberty’. He even claimed that the most enlightened Catholics did not wish for a complete extension of ‘civil franchises’ because they knew they were not ready for the ‘blessing of freedom’. These Catholics, conscious that most of them ‘were at an earlier stage of society than the rest of the island’, simply had to ‘submit in silence to the necessity of the situation’. Typically, for this kind of radicalism, Drennan called for toleration and unity between the denominations, but his vision was fatally undermined by his unrealistic view of Catholics as purely passive partners in reform. Unlike many contemporaries, Drennan genuinely sought religious harmony, and warned prophetically that ‘jealousies when once revived run like wildfire through the lower ranks of the community, as nothing is so inflammable as the tinder of religion’. But http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p035_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:04:46


such harmony was a rather one-sided affair, and like many of his contemporaries he thought that Catholics would only be capable of liberty when they had adopted the mores and behaviour of Protestants. He looked forward to the day when education, science, property, and industry would lead to a ‘republicanism of soul’. Only then would the Catholic ‘soothed by favours, by the conveniences of life, and by the hopes of affluence ... gradually melt into the citizen’.69 Catholics as Catholics simply could not be full members of the political nation.

VII . PROTESTANT ATTITUDES TO CATHOLIC RELIEF Due to such attitudes about Catholic incapacities, there were no major Catholic relief acts before the late 1770s.70 But a few Irish Protestants had been arguing for limited relief for some time. They tended to focus on the economic costs of the penal laws and the need to encourage ‘Protestant’ end p.135




Small, Stephen


sensibilities among alienated Catholics. They also often followed Burke, who saw a connection between the effects of the penal laws on Catholic attitudes and the economic problems of Ireland in his Tracts on the Popery Laws. Burke’s main theme was the insecurity of Catholic property. The Catholic’s inability to purchase land or take long leases, he argued, destroyed incentives to be industrious or take a long-term view. The desire of acquisition is always a passion of long views; confine a man to momentary possession, and you at once cut off that laudable avarice which every wise State has cherished as one of its first principles of greatness. Allow a man but a temporary possession ... and you immediately and infallibly turn him to temporary enjoyments; and these enjoyments are never the pleasure of labour and free industry ... they are, on the contrary, those of a thoughtless, loitering, and dissipated life.71 By 1775, Arthur Brooke had similarly identified the ‘jealous Retention of a most grievous System of Penal Laws’ as one of the two crucial impediments to economic growth. He too believed that access to property would bind Catholics more fruitfully into the economic and political system, and he identified property ownership as the first step for Catholics towards true knowledge of their interests. ‘Let them once be possessed of some Share in that Property’, he argued, and ‘they will become ambitious to acquire a Knowledge of those Laws upon which its Security depends; they will have a Thousand new Inducements to polish themselves in every respect; the Clouds of Ignorance will be dispelled.’ But Brooke’s motives were not purely economic. Full citizenship and, indeed, civilization, could only be obtained via Protestantism. Prosperous Catholics would desire ‘the Rank of Gentlemen’, ‘the Honour and Profit of Public Employments’, and ‘Seats in the National Senate’. To do all this ‘they must become Protestants’. Repeal the penal laws concerning property, and Catholics would see the light and enter rational, Protestant society. When the Rays of Knowledge penetrate the darkened Mist in which they now breathe, they will begin to desire advantages from their Commerce and Communication with their Protestant Neighbours: a spirit of Inquiry will persuade every rank of Roman Catholics: they will learn to despise the Imposition of their Priests, when they find them standing in direct Opposition to the Dictates of Reason and the Determination of the divine Law.72 This road to economic and political salvation through the adoption of Protestant attitudes became a common theme in Patriot and radical end p.136 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p036_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:05:24



thought and can, in part, be seen as the inspiration behind the Catholic relief bill of 1778. This allowed Catholics to take long leases of up to 999 years and to inherit land freely in the same manner as Protestants (i.e. they no longer had to divide estates between sons). But the main motivation for these concessions was the government’s desire to ensure Catholic loyalty and enlist Catholic troops after France’s entry into the American war. The bill did not signal a wholesale conversion to enlightened toleration, and it provoked considerable hostility in the Irish Commons. Revealingly, the original proposal of Gardiner’s government-supported Relief Act of 1778 had been to allow Catholics to purchase land, but the implications of land ownership for political power caused the defeat of the proposal by 111 to 108.73 In 1782 two further Catholic Relief Acts were passed, the most important of which finally allowed Catholics to buy and own land with the same rights as Protestants providing the land in question was not connected with parliamentary representation (it also lifted the remaining restrictions on priests). Given the role of property in defining political roles, this was a significant change in attitude, despite the qualification. However, discussions of Catholic political rights in Patriot pamphlets were conspicuous by their absence before 1782. The Patriots who were prepared to speak up for Catholics before 1782 typically combined calls for enlightened toleration with Burkean arguments on the need for Catholic inclusion to ensure stability. For example, A View of the Present State of Ireland abhorred the ‘animosity and discension [sic]’ caused by religious prejudice and lamented that ‘religious incapacities gave the Roman Catholics scarcely any interest in the prosperity of the kingdom’.74 Public statements of antiCatholicism could also meet criticism. When the ‘gentlemen’ of County Meath deemed it improper to associate in arms with Catholic Volunteers, they were roundly criticized by Robert Houlton. Their resolution ‘must be abominated by the kingdom, and the world in general’, declared Houlton. This was a ‘liberal age’, in which ‘the world too much and too long deluged with blood from religious dissension, and sick of the absurdity as well as the sanguinary principles of enthusiasts of all persuasions, wisely and nobly determined to rid the earth of the monster bigotry’.75 The Presbyterian-dominated Volunteer units of Ulster took a similar view. By the first Dungannon Convention on 15 February 1782, the Volunteers of Ulster agreed that recent Catholic Relief Acts were welcome. end p.137


They resolved ‘That as men, and as Irishmen, as Christians, and as Protestants, we rejoice in the Relaxation of the PENAL LAWS against our ROMAN CATHOLIC FELLOW http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p036_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:05:24


SUBJECTS’, and they conceived the measure ‘to be fraught with the happiest consequences to the union and prosperity of the inhabitants of Ireland’. But there was no agreement that further relief was desirable, and their resolution ‘that we hold the right of Private Judgement in matters of Religion to be equally sacred in others as in ourselves’ did not pass unanimously. Similarly, the Synod of Ulster also gave its approval to Relief Acts already passed but expressed no desire to admit Catholics to the franchise. It seems, therefore, that on the eve of legislative independence there was a new respect for Catholic religious freedom, but toleration rather than admission to the political nation was the dominant view among Volunteers.76 However, it would be false to characterize this softening of attitude as a general trend among the majority of Protestants. A significant effect of the increasing moderation of some Protestants during the early 1780s (and more specifically of the relief bills of 1778 and 1782) was the insecurity and anti-Catholic rhetoric it provoked. This trend is often seen as dominating Irish political discourse from the failure of reform in 1785 to the onset of the French Revolution (which it certainly did), but reaction among some Protestants was also a powerful trend in the early 1780s, concurrent with increasing toleration among their co-religionists. These critics of radicalism sought to reignite traditional Dissenting animosity to Catholics through somewhat inconsistent reminders of the latter’s servile monarch-ism and inherent disloyalty. Catholics, argued one pamphleteer, were satisfied with the ‘mild government of the house of Brunswic[k], and ... would adhere to his Britannic majesty, much sooner than submit to the domination of their Protestant fellow subjects in a free republic’.77 By ironically juxtaposing the ‘domination’ of free republicanism and voluntary Catholic submission to monarchy, radicals were confronted with Catholic servility and their own hypocrisy in one easy phrase. And if sarcasm could not dissuade reformers, old-fashioned scaremongering laid out the consequences for Ireland should reform lead to relinquished British protection. ‘Then will the restless spirit of popery soon shew and exert itself, conscious of its own strength and numbers, and of foreign assistance if necessary’, argued the pamphleteer.78 The story of Protestant attitudes to Catholicism in the period from 1776 to 1782 is not simply one of increasing toleration. end p.138


VIII . PROTESTANT RADICALISM AND THE CATHOLIC QUESTION, 17821785 Before the Patriot victories of 1782, Catholics were not only entirely excluded from the Irish political nation, they were also largely excluded from its political discourse. Even after legislative independence, this situation changed only slowly as Protestant Patriots were increasingly forced to confront the consequences of their populist rhetoric. Constant appeals to ‘the people’ could hardly avoid indefinitely the issue of whether the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p036_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:05:24


Catholics were included in this definition. The increasing wealth and prosperity of the Catholic middle class and their membership of Volunteer companies thrust Catholics into closer association with their Protestant compatriots. As did their involvement in freemasonry, which may also have contributed to increasing Catholic toleration.79 All these factors forced a re-evaluation of Catholic rationality and virtue by some Protestant reformers, and a few began to contemplate limited Catholic inclusion in the political nation. But before the 1790s no Protestant Patriots gave unequivocal support to full political equality. Even when the logic of their arguments tended towards this conclusion, ‘practical’ objections were found to water down proposals. The superior virtue of Protestants and their vulnerable minority status were balanced against ideal theoretical positions as radicals struggled to find a pragmatic compromise. Indeed most Protestant reformers did their best to avoid the implications of their rhetoric for fear of splitting the fragile support for parliamentary reform among Patriots. Thus, Catholic relief was essentially a minor element of Patriot and radical thinking before it came to the top of the agenda in the early 1790s. However, important problems were worked through for the first time by Protestant radicals between 1782 and 1785. The most forceful advocates of Catholic rights tended to employ a mixture of pragmatic, natural right, and historical arguments, which often implied complete Catholic inclusion even if they avoided explicit demands for it. The arguments based in historical fact were probably the most powerful. Not even the most bigoted Protestant could deny that the barons who secured the Magna Charta were Catholic, or that numerous republics, which were often held up as bastions of liberty, were peopled by Catholics. Venice and even Poland were cited as approved polities by those with Real Whig sentiments, and this inevitably undermined the idea that Catholics were inherently incapable of liberty. It was also noted that despotism could exist end p.139


just as easily in mainly Protestant states (such as Prussia) as it could in Catholic ones; and that many of the supposedly despotic Catholic states (such as France and Austria) were now more tolerant of Protestants than Ireland was of Catholics. Memmius put the case forcefully. If any man can be so idle as to persuade himself that Catholics are by the tenets of their religion, necessarily less capable of enjoying the benefit of a free government, they impute it to the most consummate ignorance of facts that are stamped with the sanction of historical authenticity. The continental democracies have established an ample refutation of such visionary prejudices, by preserving to this day a continued system of republicanism. Memmius optimistically thought he could discern ‘a spirit of toleration’ which had dissolved ‘the most inveterate chains of bigotry’. But he was realistic enough to know



that the triumph of toleration was not a foregone conclusion. In rhetoric that predicted the United Irish/Defender alliance, he warned the government against opposing reform by raising the spectre of cooperation between radicals and Catholics should it fail. ‘Can the most speculative or prejudiced politician indulge in the notion that the Catholics of this kingdom would not be invited to an union which would be the reciprocal interest of both’, he argued. After playing down the Catholic threat earlier, this attempt to use that threat was somewhat inconsistent. If reform was thwarted, so the argument ran, a frightening new alliance of radicals and Catholics would soon emerge. But by explicitly warning that insurrection and revolution could not be ruled out, Memmius was hardly enhancing his previous image of Catholic political responsibility.80 Such threats merely served to frighten most Protestant reformers. William Todd Jones, one of the most outspoken of the 1780s radicals on the Catholic issue, thought it ‘incontrovertible’ that the principles of Patriotism itself entailed that ‘the Catholic ought to participate in the privileges of citizenship.... For what is Patriotism?—It is to consult for the happiness of the majority of our fellow-subjects, and to guard against a sacrifice of the interests of the many to those of the few.’81 But such forthright Patriot support was unusual before the 1790s. The most tolerant position to be held by most Protestant radicals in the mid-178os was that a few Catholics should be given the vote but not allowed to sit in parliament. Peter Burro wes was a thoughtful exponent of this view, and his strong practical and moral arguments for admitting Catholics to the franchise foreshadowed United Irish writing. Parliament, if it would yield at all, would end p.140




Small, Stephen


only yield to a reform supported by the majority, and that could not be had ‘without the co-operation of the Roman Catholics’. It was ‘inconsistent with human nature’, he argued, to hope for such support ‘unless they share the profit of it’. Therefore, it followed ‘that every thinking Protestant should instantly determine to renounce his prejudices, or relinquish his expectations’. Justice and unanimity were the reformers only weapons against ‘so powerful a confederacy’ as the government. It would be madness, therefore, from both the practical and moral point of view for Protestant reformers to alienate their ‘catholic brethren’ by excluding them from their reform plans.82 The tactical importance of renouncing prejudice led Burrowes to criticize severely the anti-Catholicism of Charlemont, who had a huge influence among the Volunteers. Ironically, this attack subverted the virtue-based objections of Protestant classical republicans by asking Charlemont whether he thought ‘the narrow spirit of intolerance will be likely to enlarge, enlighten, or enoble the minds of his countrymen’. For Burrowes, genuine public virtue could not exist with political bigotry: meaningful toleration must be a component of the public virtue so dear to radical sensibilities.83 Burrowes had a genuine moral concern for the plight of the Catholics and castigated the cruelty of the penal laws. But the overriding message from the pamphlet is tactical, practical, and limited by a serious clash of political models. He recognized that his principles ‘conclude to admitting them [Catholics] even into the legislature’ but thought this ‘would be inconsistent with the safety of the established church’, whose ‘superior excellence’ should be guarded ‘even at the price of some detriment in the constitution’. Thus, despite his forceful arguments on their behalf, he thought that the very nature of the constitution and the danger to it ‘points out election franchises as the proper boundaries between toleration and policy; political freedom and the safety of the Church’. Catholics should be allowed to vote, but only ‘with great advantages against them—anything further is going beyond this necessity’. By this Burrowes meant a rather high £50 freehold qualification, which would, he thought, limit their numbers to one in 25 of the electorate.84 This seemingly conservative position was actually typical of advanced opinion among radical Patriots of the 1780s. Dobbs, for example, thought the political nation could safely include Catholics ‘who have some property’ but not ‘the very lowest orders’ because they may still retain prejudices against Protestants. He also thought that these propertied Catholics should vote for, but not sit in, parliament. By supporting partial end p.141



Catholic inclusion, Dobbs tried to balance the need for ‘mutual and common interest’ (i. e. the common good) with the dangers to Protestants of ‘improper influence’ (i.e. irrational or non-virtuous intervention).85 The common justification for such positions was that Catholic electoral influence could never overwhelm the constitution while only Protestants sat in parliament. Underlying these opinions, especially for Burrowes, was the old-fashioned classical republican belief in the close connection between property, especially landed property, and political rights. Burrowes admitted some advantages to the representation of persons (such as its simplicity and ‘the respect it pays to the natural equality of mankind’), but he thought his audience ‘almost all of the opinion that property ought to be made the ground and measure of representation’. This view actually reinforced his wish to admit Catholics given the recent Relief Acts, for he thought it wrong that anyone should be allowed freeholds but not votes. It would be a form of cruelty to station Catholics ‘at the very verge of freedom, and deny their progress’.86 Perceptions of current Catholic inadequacy, however, led most radical Patriots to seek long-term solutions in increased property ownership and education rather than immediate admission to the franchise. Most Protestant radicals shared the enlightenment faith in the power of education, which they thought could ameliorate the worst barbarities of the Irish peasant and perhaps eventually produce a Catholic peasantry rational enough to be given a vote. They assumed that education stirred the beginnings of an independent, critical spirit, which would counteract the Catholic’s slavish adherence to Rome. Education was, therefore, the first step away from the superstition and ignorance of Catholicism to the rational religion of Protestantism. But such a transformation seemed a long way off (sceptics such as Charlemont thought this would take 100 years) and arguments based on long-term education did little to break the contemporary connection between property, rationality, and power. For even staunch believers in the power of education to create rational political actors had to admit that the most obvious way of receiving a good education was to be wealthy. Hence, it was the property of a Catholic that generally came to be regarded as the best indication of his improved rationality. This argument, while excluding the Catholic peasant, allowed radicals to consider the admission of a small group of wealthy Catholics to some political end p.142


power because their property and education put them on the road to de facto Protestantism. Of course property also redeemed Catholics in the eyes of Protestants because it gave them a stake in society and an interest in defending it. This process had been accelerated by the socializing effect of mixing with Protestants in the Volunteers, which could also transform Catholics into quasi-Protestants. According to http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p037_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:05:53


one Patriot, the Protestant ‘has dared to admit his Catholic brother to the rights of a citizen’, and their common membership of the Volunteers ‘having united the two religions by the bonds of common interest... proceeds to bind them still closer, by the softer ties of social intercourse. The Papist, with an orange cockade, fires in honour of King William’s birthday. He goes to a Protestant church, and hears a charity sermon. He dines with his Protestant associates, and perhaps a Popish chaplain says grace.’ This mingling was certainly a remarkable development.87 But it reveals a model of Catholic inclusion that was hardly based on equality, even if it did allow radical Protestants to justify the inclusion of some Catholics in the political nation. The Catholic franchise was still a step too far for most Protestant reformers in the 1780s, however, even with a high property qualification such as £50. Broadly speaking most sought Catholic toleration and full civil rights but not political rights—rejecting anything more than a token gesture towards Catholic inclusion in the political nation. This position was justified by a number of arguments, many of them of a ‘practical’ nature. As we have seen, some argued that while the condition of the Catholics was not inevitably unfavourable to liberty, their present condition was. Others opposed their inclusion because the chances of persuading parliament to pass reform were slim enough without complicating matters by agitating for Catholic enfranchisement. More pessimistic voices recognized that complete Catholic equality was in theory desirable, but argued that their numbers were such that they would swamp the Protestants and overturn the constitution. Of course, all such ‘practical’ objections were merely polite restatements of a persisting belief in Catholic irrationality and incapacity for liberty. With regard to the Volunteers’ views on the Catholic issue, the tone had already been set at the Ulster Assembly at Dungannon in September 1783. Apart from a few compliments to the Catholic First Irish Brigade of Volunteers and some general praise of the prevailing spirit of toleration, the Ulster Volunteers effectively sidestepped the question of Catholic inclusion in the polity. Astonishingly, there was no explicit reference to Catholics in their resolutions or preamble, and the reform plan of their end p.143


sub-committee palmed off the question of the Catholic franchise to the National Convention. Of the eight detailed questions in their circular letter to leading British reformers not one explicitly addressed the Catholic issue. This collective myopia can in part be explained by a fear of stirring up a difficult and dangerous issue, but we cannot escape the conclusion that the interests of Catholics came pretty low on the list of priorities, even for favourably disposed Patriots. Detailed replies to this circular letter were received from, among others, Richard Price, Christopher Wyvill, John Jebb, and Major Cartwright. The fourth question on the extension of the franchise did allow them to give advice on the Catholic issue. Price wished for the extension of the franchise to ‘Papists of Property’ and argued that any http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p037_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:05:53


danger from Catholics was more likely the result of alienating penal laws than religion. But he did admit that there might be stronger local objections to the admission of Catholics to equal rights than he was aware of.88 Jebb also admitted that local difficulties were best known to those on the ground, but argued from general principles for Catholic enfranchisement.89 Cartwright’s call for universal suffrage was forthright enough to leave little doubt that he meant to include Catholics,90 and Wyvill advised the extension of the franchise to Catholics but not their admission to the Commons as MPs.91 The National Convention of November 1783 paid little attention to these views, and the anti-Catholic delegates attempted to avoid meaningful discussion of the Catholic issue altogether. On the first morning, George Ogle surprised the Convention with a letter from the leading Catholic peer, Lord Kenmare, claiming that Catholics did not desire the franchise. If the Catholics themselves did not seek the vote, he argued, then the Volunteers had no need to discuss the issue. The Earl-Bishop of Bristol had the backing of the Catholic Committee in denying that this was the opinion of most Catholics, but serious damage to the Catholic cause had already been done. The majority of delegates, if not actively hostile to Catholic interests, were only too pleased to be given an excuse to avoid the issue, and the pro-Catholic Volunteers never regained the initiative. Thomas Drought’s formulation of the Catholic dilemma is characteristic of this strain of anti-Catholic radicalism. Although in contrast to the tactics of Charlemont and Ogle, he at least has the virtue of clarity and honesty. He argued that, logically, Catholics must either be ‘re-instated in all the rights of subjects, or held under restraints which are equal to slavery’. In other words, Catholics were either capable of citizenship or they were not. end p.144


Reluctantly, he came to the conclusion that they were not. He claimed to desire toleration and lamented prejudice and animosity between Catholics and Protestants, but the state would not be strong enough to remain free if Catholics were admitted. The public qualities necessary for liberty would be catastrophically swamped by the very different qualities of the Catholics. These problems were exacerbated in his eyes by the recently won legislative independence of the Irish parliament. ‘If, on being separated from England, The Roman Catholics were to be set free, and furnished with arms, they being a prodigious majority, would determine the Irish Government to be according to the spirit of their Religion, which is extremely arbitrary and despotic.’92 Such ingrained prejudice among otherwise sympathetic reformers (even Burrowes claimed to ‘despise’ Catholicism as a form of Christianity93 ) led some to doubt if a unified polity pursuing the common good would ever be possible. One advocate of toleration went so far as to recommend emigration to Catholics because the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p037_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:05:53


unfavourable dispositions of Protestants went so deep. He welcomed the ‘benevolent spirit’ of ‘this enlightened period’ which had led to greater toleration, but argued that ‘abstract ideas contribute but little to the happiness of society’. ‘What advantage’, he asked Catholics, ‘do you derive from living, as is commonly said, under the best constitution in the universe, if that constitution, with regard to you, be badly administered?’ In an ironic twist of the usual Protestant understanding of Catholic political incapacity, the author blamed the cruelty and partiality of the Protestants for Catholic timidity and servility. ‘The foundation of an Irish Protestant’s education is laid in the most profound contempt for Papists’ which is ‘conspicuously discern-able’ even in ‘the meanest mechanic’. The position of Catholics was, he advised, hopeless. ‘To think of a reformation in your neighbours, would indeed at this day be folly in the extreme: their hatred and disdain are immutably fixed; for a man is never brought to love whom he is once accustomed to despise.’ 94 This Protestant bigotry had an effect on the character of all classes of Catholics. For the nobility it produced social exclusion and resentment. A Catholic countess could be ‘the ornament of the foreign courts she graced’ and yet a rustic, ‘vulgar creature’ in the ‘discerning eyes’ of her Protestant neighbours. Protestants were simply unable to reconcile her polite affability ‘with the plumb rule of starched Protestant breeding’. The consequences end p.145




Small, Stephen


for common Catholics were more fundamental and went to the very heart of the personal characteristics necessary for virtuous political action. A Catholic commoner bred up amidst all the horrors of religious persecution, is an utter stranger to that ingenious frankness, which distinguish the man of probity from the artful knave. He is timid, reserved and cautious; and was it possible for him to have been otherwise? He saw innocent men put to death for murders and treasons, that had no existence but in the sanguinary minds of their persecutors: he saw informers plundering his property by act of parliament ... he saw death, banishments, forfeitures and imprisonment eternally hanging over his head.95 From the perspective of Protestant radicals, this relocation of the cause of Catholic political incapacity was disturbing. The supposed lack of Catholic virtue had inspired such hatred and fear among the Protestants’ forefathers that Catholics were excluded from the polity. But this very exclusion had become the cause of their political incapacity. Hence, the Irish classical republican mentality not only provided grounds for criticism of the penal laws, it was, in part, responsible for their creation. The ideal of the common good and Patriotic citizenship may have been one way forward for radicals, but the prerequisites for that citizenship (i.e. rationality, education, property, and virtue) had become identified so closely, and exclusively, with Protestantism, that meaningful Catholic citizenship was instinctively repulsive to them. That Protestant bigotry enshrined in the penal laws was partly to blame for the condition, both physical and moral, of Irish Catholics was the nettle which Protestant radicals had to grasp. In the 1780s, few wished to do so.

IX . THE PLANS OF THE REFORM MOVEMENT Plans for reform based on the arguments above, and displaying close similarities to those advocated in Britain, teemed from Irish presses between 1783 and 1784.96 Their basic concern was that lengthy parliaments, inadequate representation of the people, and corruption of both the electoral process and the mechanisms of parliament were destroying the balance between Commons, Lords, and King. This rendered the Commons independent of the people and allowed the Castle to ride roughshod over the ordinary MPs.97 But despite a degree of consensus on these problems, there were disagreements about the precise form of reform. Plans typically involved annual or triennial parliaments, widening the elective franchise, end p.146




more equal and inclusive representation (often through abolishing rotten boroughs and increasing the county representation), and methods to reduce executive control of parliament by restricting the ability of pensioners and place-holders to sit in the Commons. However, the dubious rationality and virtue of the Catholics and the lower sorts provided endless grounds for debate on the details. The most audacious plan in terms of scope was Francis Dobbs’s The True Principles of Government. This tract was no less than an attempt to refashion the entire political and legal structure of Ireland. Dobbs’s own preface makes clear his aims and provides a good summary of the wide-ranging concerns of the most ambitious reformers. To give the King, Lords, and Commons, their true and independent powers; to proportion punishments to their offences; to render the laws of property plain to every capacity, and the redress of wrongs speedy and without expence; to bring home justice to every man’s door; to abolish useless places and pensions; to have a constitutional army for our protection; to simplify taxation, and totally remove it from the poor; to open our ports to the world, and thereby obtain a real free trade; to abolish tithes, and pay the clergy by another mode; and to make the established religion consist in the belief of what no christian can deny—is the Object of this code.98 Dobbs sought genuinely balanced government, humane reform of the criminal code, a simple legal system that could be understood and used by the common man, the rooting out of corruption, the abolition of standing armies, the reduction of taxes and tithes on the poor, the encouragement of commerce, and the propagation of rational religion. He grafted enlightened rationalism onto his Real Whig concerns and sought to legitimize his project by proclaiming its conformity to the spirit of the ‘British’ constitution. His plans for reform called for triennial parliaments and the abolition of all boroughs and corporations, with representation based on 300 county constituencies of equal numbers of voters. The franchise would be restricted to those who paid hearth tax, which would in turn be restricted to those with two hearths, but all such taxpayers, including Catholics, would be given the vote (Dobbs, like many American contemporaries, thought taxation and representation were inseparable). The secret ballot, though disliked by Dobbs, was deemed preferable to open voting until electoral corruption was ended. Pensioners and placemen would be banned from the Commons in an attempt to separate the executive and the legislature, and the king would have to explain his business to the house through 21 non-voting members. end p.147




Unfortunately for Dobbs, his attempt to present this plan to the Ulster Volunteer delegates at Dungannon on 8 September 1783 was cruelly thwarted. Dobbs was not given access on account of his recent membership of the Fencibles—a government sponsored ‘militia’ that was widely condemned as an attempt to weaken the Volunteers.99 This hostility towards Dobbs can, in part, be traced back to his moderation in defending ‘simple repeal’ and rejecting the need for renunciation in 1782. Ironically, Dobbs’s plans were more radical than anything produced by either the Ulster or National Volunteer Conventions. He stopped short of universal male suffrage, but his proposals for extending the franchise (which unusually would have included many Catholics), and for the complete restructuring of all constituencies based on equal numbers of voters, were more radical than any other plan published in Ireland during this period. Most published plans were more moderate attempts to renovate the constitution. Practical considerations of the intense opposition any reform was likely to provoke led one reformer to base his plan on the addition of 100 seats with no disfranchisement of boroughs. With the exception of two new seats for Dublin, and one each for Cork and Belfast, these would all be county seats, with freeholders in towns admitted to the franchise. The measures would, it was hoped, counteract but not eradicate the influence of the crown in the Commons. The author’s firm belief in balanced government led him to defend the right of popular intervention in order ‘to guard against the abuse of power’. But it was not, in his view, ‘necessary wholly to debilitate the government’.100 Such moderate reform plans were often similar to those put forward by the Yorkshire Association in Britain. They tended to involve additions to the representation rather than redistribution of seats in the hope of averting the hostility of the existing parliamentary elite. Given that this elite would have to pass the reform, a gentle dilution of power was thought more acceptable than a confiscation. Where redistribution of seats or increased numbers of voters would involve the loss of personal political ‘property’ compensation was advocated even when the right to it was not conceded in principle. These moderate reform plans were often simply a rehash of old ‘country’ attempts to establish the control of independent country gentlemen over the legislature. John Keogh’s more idiosyncratic plan of reform can also be end p.148


put in this category.101 He called for two representatives to be returned by all the resident freeholders of each barony, but also for the representative to be worth at least ^500 a year in landed property. Much like ‘the Limerick Freeholder’ discussed above, Keogh shows deep ‘country’ tendencies. While expanding the franchise to eradicate electoral corruption and borough-mongering, he would drastically restrict the class of individuals who could sit in the Commons to the landed gentry. Such arguments reveal http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p038_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:06:13


the enduring importance that reformers attached to the stability and independence supposedly conferred by landed property.102 Despite the rabid criticism of the Volunteers’ radical activities, a similar moderation was evident in their formal resolutions, especially those of the National Convention at the Rotunda in November 1783. This plan was generally in keeping with moderate reformist sentiment throughout the Atlantic world. For example, suffrage restrictions based on property mirrored mainstream American thinking during the Revolution. As Wood points out, ‘in 1776 it was not at all obvious that voting itself was crucially important, and all of the states retained some sort of tax-paying or property qualification for the suffrage’.103 Furthermore, Volunteer plans were far less radical than many plans advocated in England. Cartwright, for example, was already advocating universal male suffrage in 1780. This moderation can be attributed to a number of factors. First, the need to hold together a large and disparate group, much of it strongly anti-Catholic, discouraged radical proposals for Catholic inclusion. Secondly, the two most influential participants were the deeply anti-Catholic Flood and Charlemont, who successfully outmanoeuvred the Earl-Bishop of Bristol and other pro-Catholic radicals. Thirdly, the final resolutions were largely the work of Flood rather than a committee of radical activists.104 And although Flood seriously botched their presentation to the Commons, he brought a pragmatic parliamentary eye to their drafting. The main resolutions of the National Convention were triennial parliaments, viva voce or ‘open’ ballots, the admission of all Protestant freeholders (and leaseholders above J £IO) to the franchise in boroughs, the end p.149


exclusion from parliament of pension holders of less than 21 years duration, the subjection of place-holders to the test of re-election, and the extension of the franchise in decayed and depopulated boroughs to include neighbouring parishes or baronies. In a revealing reaffirmation of the link between landed property and power, the very first resolution allowed a vote to non-residents if they possessed landed property worth ^20 in the borough or county.105 There was no proposal to extend the franchise to even a limited number of propertied Catholics. These plans were noticeably less radical than those of the Dungannon sub-committee. Their plan had advocated annual parliaments, a redistribution of seats with compensation to patrons, and the exclusion of placeholders and pensioners from parliament. This plan also made greater extensions to the franchise by placing boroughs on a similar footing to the counties, although it maintained property qualifications (the 40s freehold in the counties and a new £5 rent qualification for the boroughs).106 This apparent climb down prompted some angry letters from Volunteers. A Munster http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p038_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:06:13


delegate gave a first-hand account of the disappointment felt by radical delegates at Flood’s manipulation of the Convention to endorse a very moderate plan. The delegates, he claimed, ‘were all prostrated and hurried away, by the gigantic powers of the distinguished orator, who assumed a commanding lead; indeed, I may say, a sovereign and despotic authority among us’. The resulting resolutions were passed with ‘an indistinct murmur of disappointment’ by many of his fellow delegates, who ‘disapproved the imbecility of the resolutions in which they concurred merely from a want of elocution, or hardihood in addressing a public audience’. Obviously the social and political education of Volunteering had not inspired quite as much self-confidence as many pamphleteers had hoped. In the eyes of this Munster delegate, Flood’s plan, by merely extending the boundaries of decayed boroughs to include adjacent freeholders, most of whom could already vote, did very little to increase the franchise. The proposals were, he thought, ‘conceived in an odious and aristocratic spirit’ with ‘an evident partiality for the rich’ which was ‘incompatible with personal freedom’. The plan of reform adopted by the Convention was, he argued, inadequate and unworthy of both the Volunteers and the expectations of the people of Ireland.107 Despite this feeling of betrayal on the part of some radical Patriots, the National Convention enjoyed widespread support and was, in retrospect, end p.150




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probably the best chance of achieving reform in the face of implacable government opposition. But the reform plan it generated was rejected at the first hurdle when Flood was refused leave to bring the bill before the House of Commons. After the armed threat of the Volunteer Convention had dissolved and its plan had been endorsed by a number of county meetings, another reform bill was brought before the House on 21 March 1784, but this was defeated on its second reading by 159 votes to 85. The Irish parliament, backed by the British ministry, had given a clear indication of its staunch opposition to reform. These setbacks did not discourage Dublin radicals such as Napper Tandy and John Binns, who organized a meeting of the citizens of Dublin in the summer of 1784. This meeting called for a reform congress not based on the Volunteer network (although many of the delegates were Volunteers). It took an approach more akin to the Association movement in England and sought to gather elected representatives from meetings of freeholders in the counties and large towns. By drawing on the traditional county meeting for its membership, the mixture of radicals and moderate reformers who met in this ‘Assembly of Delegates’ hoped that the lack of military threat and the moral pressure of a representative body could persuade the Commons to accept reform. This was a highly optimistic assessment. Obstacles were placed in the path of the congress from the beginning. The county sheriffs who could most conveniently call meetings of freeholders were intimidated and threatened with prosecution by the government. Many county sheriffs refused to sanction meetings and the resulting representation was patchy. The fact that the radicals who organized the assembly had declared their support for limited Catholic admission to the franchise did not help the cause either. In the event, despite scurrilous criticism of the delegates’ social rank, a reasonably impressive and prestigious collection of delegates finally assembled at the Exchange in Dublin in October 1784. Among them were radicals such as Napper and George Tandy, John Binns, William Drennan, William Todd Jones, Joseph Pollock, Archibald Hamilton Rowan; Dissenting ministers such as William Campbell, William Bruce, and Sinclaire Kilburne; respected Volunteer leaders such as William Sharman, MP; and moderate peers and country gentlemen such as Lord Powerscourt, Sir Capel Molyneux, Richard Lovel Edgeworth, and John Martin.108 The congress dithered and prevaricated as radicals were smothered by moderates. Flood attempted to persuade the congress to adopt his old plan end p.151




and the whole exercise became bogged down in endless resolutions. Adjournments to January and then April did little to maintain the momentum of the reform movement and, faced with implacable opposition from the Irish and British governments, it went into gradual hibernation. After April 1785 the reform congress stopped meeting and dwindled into a reform club.

X . WILLIAM DRENNAN’s LETTERS OF ORELLANA As the initial enthusiasm of October 1784 ebbed away, the increasingly frustrated Drennan wrote a series of letters as a final rallying call to reformers. They failed to rouse the reform congress, but the Letters of Orellana were among the most eloquent of the radical Patriot pamphlets and a poignant coda to this period of reform agitation. They are also a bridge from the radicalism of the mid-178os, across six years of reaction and religious bigotry, to the new radicalism of the 1790s. As James Kelly points out, Drennan was just one of many leading figures in 1790s radicalism who cut their political teeth in the early and mid-178os. Wolfe Tone, Archibald Hamilton Rowan, and Napper Tandy were all active in either the Volunteers or the reform movement,109 and like them, the ideas contained in Drennan’s Letters of Orellana would re-emerge in the United Irishmen six years later. Drennan’s Letters were published in the Belfast News-letter between November 1784 and January 1785 at a critical juncture for the reform movement. In Drennan’s view, the Irish people had reached a moment of truth and would shortly discover whether they were ‘the most magnanimous, or the meanest of mankind’. Focusing on the classical republican theme of political character, Drennan warned his readers that a brief flirtation with Volunteering was not the same as political virtue. The public displays of martial spirit in Ireland could be explained in other ways. Flattery, applause, fashion, youthful sympathy, fondness for the semblance of war, and the love of ornament (‘a passion common to the savage and the courtier’) all may have caused the ‘transient political phenomenon, called, VOLUNTEERS OF IRELAND’. True Patriotism was not a short-lived, flashy affair. Before Ireland could call itself Patriotic, ‘there must be a certain time, and that not a short one, in which the constant agency of public spirit shall have produced an habitual determination of the public will to end p.152


the public good, powerful enough even to influence the manners and morals of a people’.110 Drennan obviously doubted the existence of this determination. The optimism shown http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p039_print.html（第 2／4 页）2011/9/22 19:06:32


for Volunteering just a few years earlier had been seriously dented. But this disappointment only made the Real Whig virtues of vigilance and awareness even more important. Drennan reminded his readers that they were still slaves rather than glorious civic heroes, but that as long as they knew they were slaves there was hope. For ‘the bondage must be felt before the chain can be broken’.111 At the root of Drennan’s radical Patriotism, therefore, is a philosophy of popular action. ‘Sedentary reformers’ could not secure liberty or provide an effective check on power.112 Even constitutional mechanisms were not sufficient to acquire liberty. Drennan saw himself as an educator and motivator for wavering Irish slaves, and he appealed directly to the young and spirited among them. To you, young men, I must address myself with warmth and with emphasis. The spirit of reform, like the spirit of youth, must be active, ardent, progressive, impassioned, enterprising, enthusiastic. Advanced age is of a heavy, inactive procrastinating disposition, which ... might serve to maintain liberty, but will never acquire it. The genius of reform must be attended with a certain gallantry of soul which pushes FORWARD in the field of virtuous glory.113 In his attempt to shock Ireland out of its lethargy and complacency, Drennan’s violent polemics took Irish radicalism in a new direction that looked forward to the more confrontational 1790s. He savaged the smug faith in the perfection of the ancient constitution, claiming there was ‘no idea which has been productive of more harm than... that there was something of superhuman excellence in the frame and contexture of what is called our political constitution’. In Drennan’s view, if progress in the arts and achievements of mankind was widely accepted, why should politics be an exception? Exponents of constitutional perfection were using a ‘fig leaf to hide their indolence, timidity, and corruption. This belief amounted to no more than ‘national bigotry’. Indeed, for Drennan, the constitution was actually so defective, that any alteration that sprang from public opinion rather than private caprice had ‘a greater chance of reforming than of deforming the government’.114 This idea, that almost any reasoned change could only improve the constitution, flew in the face of received wisdom and demonstrated a deep contempt for the political system that was quite new to Irish Patriotism. end p.153


This was iconoclasm on a grand scale, but Drennan did not stop with the constitution. He went on to attack its idols in order to clear the way for a new sense of Irishness. False associations with King Alfred, Hampden, and Sidney had deluded Irishmen and made them blind to the central fact of their political life: that they were ‘all native Irish under the controul of an English pale’.115 This assertion was not only an attempt to forge a new unified Irish identity. By making the obstacles to reform explicitly English, it became a Patriotic duty for Irishmen to remove them. He even argued that Irish http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p039_print.html（第 3／4 页）2011/9/22 19:06:32


national honour would be forfeited if reform failed because the Irish people had committed themselves in the eyes of the world through the resolutions of its Conventions and Congresses. Furthermore, the achievements of free trade and legislative independence were nothing without parliamentary reform. For without reform, Drennan asked, ‘what... is this boasted legislative independence?... but a transference of arbitrary power from despotism abroad to aristocracy at home’.116 As Drennan himself visualized it, parliamentary reform was the final stone in the arch of Irish liberty, without which the previous Patriot victories would be in vain. Seen in this light, the revival of radicalism in the 1790s was initially no more than a conscious attempt to complete the Patriotic business started over a decade earlier. end p.154


5 Protestant Ascendancy and the Revival of Radicalism, 1786-1791 Stephen Small

The failure of radicals and Patriots to achieve reform between 1782 and 1785 led to stagnation in both their activity and their rhetoric. The Regency Crisis and the onset of the French Revolution spurred them to action once more at the end of the 1780s, but until then political debate was increasingly dominated by conservative Protestant reaction to the Tithe Dispute. During this reaction a new concept emerged which significantly restructured Irish political debate—Protestant Ascendancy. This concept formalized and strengthened an Irish rhetoric of reaction, but it also entailed a particular conceptualization of its opponents (namely as an unholy alliance of reformers, Dissenters and Catholics). In short, the emergence of Protestant Ascendancy as a concept established many of the important parameters for the conflicts of the 1790s before the French Revolution erupted in 1789.1

Hence, to understand how Patriotism, radicalism, and republicanism developed in the 1790s, we need to look briefly at the creation of Protestant Ascendancy before the outbreak of the French Revolution. This is not only because it formed the ideology which radicals and republicans had to counter, but also because it can be seen as the development of a certain strain of Patriotism itself-albeit one which was anathema to many radical Patriots. Section I of this chapter, therefore, examines this reaction to the end p.155




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Tithe Dispute, while Sections II and III examine the resurgence of radical and reform activity between 1789 and 1791.

I . THE TITHE DISPUTE AND PROTESTANT REACTION, 1786-1788 The Tithe Dispute arose from long-standing Catholic and Dissenter grievances about paying tithes to the Church of Ireland. In 1785, widespread agrarian disorder erupted in Munster, where armed gangs of Rightboys (so-called after their mythical leader, Captain Right) set ‘fair’ rates of tithes and embarked on a campaign of violence and intimidation to enforce them.2 The unrest prompted a Protestant assault on Catholics led by George Ogle and clerics of the Established Church such as Richard Woodward, Bishop of Cloyne. This put radicals on the defensive and made the prospect of parliamentary reform or further Catholic relief ever more unlikely.3 Patrick Duigenan (writing under the pseudonym Theophilus) produced the most inflammatory interpretation of Rightboyism, labelling it a concerted Catholic conspiracy to subvert the constitution in church and state.4 But it was Woodward who put the Ascendancy case most effectively. With more moderation, and with the added authority of his position, he presented the unrest as a fundamental attack on the establishment that threatened to subvert the prosperity and constitution of Ireland. ‘The Church of Ireland, is at the present moment, in imminent danger of subversion’, he argued, and as the Church, in its political function, was ‘so essentially incorporated with the State ... the subversion of one must necessarily overthrow the other’.5 The pamphlet embarrassed liberal-minded Protestants, who saw it as an unwelcome revival of old religious animosities inappropriate to the enlightened 1780s. Indeed most of the Protestant elite, including the Castle administration, did not initially take Woodward’s warnings entirely end p.156


seriously—despite their concern over the very serious public order problem posed by the Rightboys. But Woodward’s polemic was undoubtedly popular and it struck a chord among many Protestant landowners. During 1787, as the disorder continued and halfhearted attempts to press tithe commutation on an intransigent church failed, the majority of Protestant opinion fell in line behind Woodward, Ogle, and the concept of http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p040_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:06:56


Protestant Ascendancy. The Catholic, Arthur O’Leary, described the shift in attitude caused by these pamphlets. Tithe reform, he observed, although ‘countenanced by the ablest men in England, and by many sensible men of the established church in Ireland, made Theophilus mad, and the Bishop of Cloyne somewhat angry. The alarm bell was rung by Theophilus, and the presses began to teem with the Bishop’s pamphlets.’6 By the end of the year, parliament had abandoned tithe commutation and passed a package of repressive measures with huge majorities. The prevailing wisdom among historians has been that Protestant fears of a revolution in the constitution and the land settlement in this pre-1789 period were largely unjustified. Jim Smyth, for example, argues that, before the Defenders, Rightboys and Whiteboys were primarily motivated by conservative, backward-looking desires for fair rents and tithes which did not fundamentally challenge the political or economic system. He argues that they ‘sought to regulate the local economy. Whiteboyism was informed by a vision of social justice—Thompson’s “moral economy”—not social revolution.’7 This conclusion draws on Tom Bartlett’s thesis that prior to the militia disturbances of 1793, Irish agrarian unrest was caused by changes in customary levels of tithes, taxes, rents, and forms of land ownership (primarily enclosure). It was not especially nationalist, sectarian, or revolutionary, and not especially violent by general eighteenth-century standards. In other words, it did not seek or threaten to undermine the fundamental relationships of deference and authority.8 This picture is further reinforced by Maurice Bric’s discovery of Whiteboy orchestration by anti-clerical, often Protestant, ‘gentlemen Whiteboys’ in the early stages of the unrest.9 However, Kevin Whelan has described how an underground Catholic gentry, and then an emergent ‘big farmer’ class, kept alive ancient claims to end p.157


Protestant lands that were widely accepted and reiterated among the Catholic community.10 While this mentality did not amount to a revolutionary threat, it does partly explain the fear and paranoia of Protestant landowners and clerics. Woodward undoubtedly exaggerated the threat to the ‘Protestant Ascendancy’ but his concern was not completely misplaced. The Rightboys regularly used violence against property and persons to undermine the Anglican elite’s control over rural economic life. Woodward, therefore, tapped into genuine Protestant fears, as is shown by the number of editions the pamphlet went through. McCormack sees a deliberate attempt to maximize editions relative to actual production to enhance the impression of popularity, but the number is still remarkable.11 Much of the pamphlet is a general defence of the necessity and legality of tithes, and of the utility of the established clergy in promoting morality, virtue, and civilization. But while ostensibly concerned with the Tithe Dispute and the role of the Church, Woodward was actually offering an all-encompassing conservative prescription for Irish http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p040_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:06:56


politics. The Established Church, the Protestant Ascendancy, and the British connection were each seen as supporting walls in the fragile structure of the Irish constitution. In Woodward’s opinion, an attack on any of these (whether through parliamentary reform or tithe reform) ran the risk of bringing the whole structure down, with the probability of its replacement by Catholic tyranny. His appeal to history and experience in opposition to destabilizing popular violence anticipated Burke’s reaction to the French Revolution, with whom Woodward significantly shared a distaste for Dissent. Woodward’s defence of ecclesiastical establishments, like Burke’s, was also partly directed against the arguments of Dissenters and Americans for the separation of church and state.12 Especially interesting is Woodward’s explicit linkage of religion to political systems. Despotic states, he asserted, invariably found Papal authority a ‘congenial system of arbitrary dominion’. Whereas republics have typically adopted ‘the levelling principle of the Presbyterian Church’. Only in end p.158


the Lutheran, Episcopalian countries of northern Europe had limited monarchy been embraced.13 Woodward was reinvigorating old stereotypes to offer stark alternatives to wavering Protestants. For Woodward, the entire Williamite land settlement relied on a constitution founded upon the ‘Protestant Ascendancy’, which in turn relied upon the Established Church. By reminding his readers that the Presbyterians are inevitably ‘independents’ in civil matters whose principles tend to pull down ecclesiastical establishments, he suggested that a vital element of the Irish constitution would be destroyed if full political rights were entrusted to Dissenters.14 The result would be the overturning of the Williamite land settlement itself. Hence, of the three churches, ‘the members of established church alone can be cordial friends to the entire constitution of this realm, with perfect consistency of principle’.15 Foreshadowing Burke, Woodward summed up the conservative philosophy behind these ideas. That man must be totally unread in History, and have profited little by his own Experience who is not apprized of the danger of removing old landmarks, those especially which are the boundaries of Constitutional rights. The fairest prospect of improvement will not justify the risk of Innovation in a system, which in a religious view, has no equal, and in a political one, is essential to the preservation of the best Constitution that ever was framed.16 While such rhetoric probably had little effect on liberal-minded Protestants, it certainly put them on the defensive and convinced many Protestants that further Catholic relief would be unwise. By 1787, most were willing to allow full civil and religious rights to Catholics (as was Woodward) but those wishing to extend even limited political rights to Catholics were probably in a minority. As James Kelly points out, ‘Care must be taken http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p040_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:06:56


not to exaggerate the amelioration in inter-denominational relations ... during the period 1760-1800, there can be no questioning the persistence of deep politicoreligious divisions.’17 Woodward’s tract gave these divisions a new lease of life as clerics and other pamphleteers rushed to the press with anti-Catholic rhetoric that could easily have been written a century or two earlier. The following observation by Revd Daniel Beaufort is a good example. ‘The spirit of Rome is the spirit of ambition and tyranny, of end p.159


cruelty and oppression: her doctrine is erroneous, her worship is idolatrous, her government tyrannical, and her political tenets are all calculated to enslave the consciences of mankind.’18 Other defenders of the ecclesiastical status quo, notably Patrick Duigenan and Dominick Trant, took an even more virulently anti-Catholic and anti-Dissenter line. Duigenan saw far-reaching Catholic conspiracies to subvert the constitution as the real cause of the commotions and insurrections in the south of Ireland.19 Along with Trant (also, ironically, a former Catholic), he sought to stiffen the resolve of Protestants against Catholic claims by intemperate regurgitation of Catholic atrocities and civic incapacities.20 The violent abuse heaped upon their opponents demonstrates the bitterness of their assault. In a letter to Amyas Griffith, Duigenan launched an incredible personal attack on both the recipient and the leading Catholic controversialist, Arthur O’Leary. In response to Griffith labelling him ‘BLOODY MINDED’, Duigenan assured Griffith that he did indeed ‘thirst for blood ... for the blood of traitors such as you’. And for even questioning the justice of Fr. Nicholas Sheehy’s execution after a patently unfair trial, both Griffith and O’Leary merited ‘the agency of the finisher of the law’. Catholic priests and Presbyterians, as ‘traitors in their hearts’, should be justly executed, and merely by supporting these groups (for he belonged to neither) Griffith had also merited ‘strangulation’. The letter ended with a gruesome farewell: ‘Adieu, Amyas—conversion or a halter to you, is the ardent wish of your friend.’21 This was hardly the stuff of an enlightened, tolerant, civil society so frequently heralded by liberal Protestants. Duigenan and Trant were extreme, but serious religious intolerance was undoubtedly widespread within the Patriot movement. We have already examined how tensions between pro- and anti-Catholic Patriots threatened to split the Volunteers in the early 1780s. The Tithe Dispute carried that process one stage further. George Ogle, a violent and consistent opponent of Catholic relief, was nevertheless regarded as a leading Patriot MP.22 His appeal to Protestants to defend their Ascendancy was not too dissimilar to end p.160






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the appeal to the ‘Church and King’ mobs in Britain a few years later. And just as this British development caused profound shifts in the concept of Patriotism from oppositionism to loyalism, so the Irish appeal to Protestant Ascendancy further complicated the tensions in Irish Patriotism. The similarities between Britain and Ireland only go so far, however. For while British loyalists could violently attack Dissenters with little fear of destabilizing consequences, the presence of a large Catholic majority forced Irish Anglicans to be more careful. Their appeal to Protestant Ascendancy, while antiDissenter on one level, also contained a pastoral warning for fellow Protestants to return to the fold to avoid the dangers of Catholic tyranny. The Church of Ireland, somewhat schizophrenically, viewed Irish Dissenters as both scheming levellers and wayward sheep. They were in need of a friendly crosier to stop them toppling over a dangerous precipice, but not before it gave them a few stern whacks.23 This attack led prominent Irish Dissenters (such as Samuel Barber and William Campbell) and sympathizers (such as Amyas Griffith) to produce radical replies to Woodward. These coincided with the mobilization of Dissent in Britain for the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, and there was intense interest in Ireland in British debates.24 Once again, however, there were important differences between the situation of Dissenters in the two countries. Irish Dissenters had already been relieved from the operation of the Irish Sacramental Test Act in 1780 and so suffered fewer legal disabilities than their British counterparts. More importantly they faced their own version of the dilemma that troubled the Church of Ireland. Should they support Catholic hopes for mutually beneficial relief at the risk of jeopardizing their position of relative advantage? But these pre-French revolutionary episodes in Britain and Ireland shared an important similarity. They tied already sympathetic Dissenters much more closely to the general cause of radical reform.25 And in Ireland the anti-Dissenting rhetoric of Protestant Ascendancy convinced some radical Dissenters of their common cause with the Catholics. Samuel Barber, the Presbyterian minister of Rathfriland who later became a United Irishman, was the most effective dissenting critic of Protestant Ascendancy. He not only criticized tithe payments to a minority end p.161


church as ‘an unequal and burthensome tax’ that discouraged agriculture,26 he assailed http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p041_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:13


the very concept of religious establishment. Its purpose, he argued, had always been ‘to extirpate by fire and sword every sincere enquirer in to the word of God’. This was evidenced by ‘all the horrid persecutions which have disgraced the annals of the christian church, the massacre of Paris, the savage barbarity of the Duke of Alva, the fire and faggot that consumed Jerome and Hus, Cranmer and Ridley’.27 In his view, the church establishment was not an indispensable pillar of the constitution, but rather a ‘creature’ of the state, like the armed forces and the institutions that collected revenues.28 Thus, the legislature could change the ecclesiastical establishment ‘easily’ and with ‘little danger to the state’.29 Campbell concurred and claimed that Woodward had not shown why the Church of Ireland was essential to the functioning of the state. ‘Until you do this’, he declared, ‘you will excuse us for asserting that your particular ecclesiastical establishment, or any other ... is not essential to our constitution.’30 For Barber, such a hostile attitude to the Established Church entailed a rejection of Catholic subordination. High Church ranting merely encouraged him to step forward in defence of Catholics, despite the fact that a political alliance of Catholics and Dissenters seemed perverse to many. He defended Arthur O’Leary, the main Catholic protagonist in the Tithe Dispute, from the rabid attacks on his very moderate publications, and he claimed that ‘Protestant dissenters have no fears of the roman catholicks’. Barber also denounced ‘the trick of setting the Roman Catholicks and Protestant Dissenters by the ears’, and pointed out that the Catholic peasantry were ‘more oppressed and impoverished, than any set of the lower classes of people upon the earth’.31 Campbell was more concerned with the reputation and rights of Presbyterians than the cause of Catholics end p.162


or radical reform. But by challenging Woodward on his chosen ground of history and precedent, he also undermined the concept of Protestant Ascendancy. Arguing that the Presbyterians in Ireland and Scotland had been as steady friends to the constitution as the High Churchmen (notably by securing the Protestant interest in Ulster and by supporting William), he discredited Woodward’s notion that only members of the Established Church could be loyal supporters of the constitution. Barber drew on ancient constitutional, classical republican, and natural rights languages. Having invoked the Magna Charta in defence of the rights of the Established Church, Woodward was asked: ‘who obtained this great charter! was it not Roman catholicks ... Did not Roman catholicks lay the foundation of English liberty, did they not found a number of republics in Italy, and for ages preserve the liberties of every nation in Europe.’32 Barber then merged the common good with majority will to give a refutation of Protestant Ascendancy reminiscent of Rousseau. A law that extends its benefits to the community at large is good: when confined to a part, or when it enables one description of subjects to tyrannize over others and to http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p041_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:13


take their property, and apply it to their own uses, it is no longer a law, but a grievance. It is not the will of the community, and where there are laws of that kind, the state cannot be free; for in every free state, the laws must be the will of the majority.33 This quotation clearly shows that the building blocks for 1790s Irish radicalism were in place before the French Revolution, and that some Protestants were already willing to renounce Protestant superiority in favour of an inclusive Patriotism. However, most were not, and this debate also reinvigorated reactionary stereotyping of Catholics and radical Dissenters before the reaction associated with the era of the French Revolution. By connecting localized peasant violence with international Catholic conspiracy, misguided Dissenter agitation and ‘levelling’, Duigenan, Trant, and Woodward identified a disloyal alliance that marked out new cleavages for the 1790s. They also reaffirmed long-standing Protestant suspicions over Catholic political capability just as more enlightened attitudes seemed to be making progress. In the face of a blizzard of bigotry, Catholic writers offered moderate refutations and protestations of loyalty, but rational argument was not easy. O’Leary had been upbraided by Woodward for simply suggesting that the peasantry might have ‘grievances’, even though O’Leary had urged the Rightboys to confine their protests to peaceful complaints to the legislature.34 James Butler, end p.163


the Catholic Archbishop of Cashel, tried to convince Irishmen ‘that the duty of a Catholic, lay or clerical, to the tenets of his religion, is perfectly consistent with the obedience to the temporal power, in whatever hands it may be placed’. But his arguments that ‘the disorders of the lower class of people in this country are in no wise to be attributable to their religious tenets’ generally fell on deaf Protestant ears.35 Some moderate Protestants recognized that the connections between religion and subversive political action were at best intellectually lazy and at worst destructive of social harmony. George Grace analysed the problem neatly in his A Short Plea for Human Nature and Common Sense. To charge the religion with our present disturbances, we must be able to demonstrate that the persons engaged in them act under its direction or according to its tenets. If we fail in this we must in honesty search for the cause of them somewhere else. We must attribute them either to a general disposition in the lower order of people in this country to riot and disorder.—To the oppressions, under which they labour—the neglects, by which they are discountenanced; or that universal poverty that as yet has prevented us from employing them sufficiently in manufactures and commerce to let them taste the sweets of industry and wealth. The plain reason is easily found in the wretchedness of the Irish peasantry. Were http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p041_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:13


they Protestants of any denomination that poverty would or might be the same. It happens accidentally that they are for the most part Roman Catholics.36 Given that the moral economy of Rightboyism was also directed against the charges paid by Catholics to their own clergy, these economic arguments carried weight, but such logic was largely powerless against an ingrained distrust of Catholic ambitions. Like Barber, Grace also appealed to pre-Reformation English liberty to refute Woodward’s simplistic linkage of religion to political system. He also pointed out that Poland, Genoa, and Venice were popish republics, while Sweden, Prussia, Hesse, and 300 other German states were Protestant arbitrary monarchies. In Grace’s view, Woodward simply connected the Catholic religion to whatever negative political characteristic took his fancy in the most inconsistent manner. ‘Who can seriously believe a man who tells him, that the Popish principle is slavery, passive obedience and non-resistance, and in the same breath exclaims that it is rebellion, disobedience to the government, resistance and sedition?37 Butler saw these connections as a deliberate plot ‘to undo all that has been end p.164


done in favour of Roman Catholics’ by undermining Catholic claims to the protection of government and the confidence of their fellow subjects.38 Such tactics would be used with ever-greater frequency in the 1790s, as loyalists sought to discredit their political opponents. These opponents varied somewhat between Ireland and Britain, most notably in that domestic Catholics were not prominent in the British set of subversives. But the basic phenomenon was very similar in both countries. Thus, in Ireland, even before Burke’s Reflections and the onset of war with France, powerful connections were reinforced between reform, subversion, mob violence, Catholicism, French interference, and Rational Dissent. None of these connections were entirely new, but the crucial point is that whereas similar connections still needed to be forged in Britain between 1790 and 1792 to discredit radicalism, they had already been forged in Ireland before the French Revolution. In short, much of the work still to be done by Burke and his allies in Britain after 1790 had already been done by Woodward and his allies in Ireland by 1787. Any parallel between the ideas of Woodward and Burke needs careful qualification. Burke held the Protestant Ascendancy in low regard and had long been recognized as a committed advocate for Irish Catholics. He would have undoubtedly found Woodward’s anti-Catholicism repellent. Nor did he share Woodward’s sense of panic about the unrest in Ireland. He admitted that ‘the Affairs of Ireland are somewhat deranged and the public peace somewhat disturbed’, but this was ‘not at all to the degree to which the Irish, in their Exagerating manner, have represented the disorder to have mounted’. Indeed he blamed the troubles primarily on ‘the badness of the Internal http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p041_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:13


frame of that Country’ and caustically predicted that Irish Politicians ‘will be tampering with every kind of Quack medicine for the Cure’.39 Yet in their wider appeal for the maintenance of existing political structures in the face of perceived, imminent anarchy, the Woodward of 1786 shares much with the Burke of 1790. They both use reasons of state and stability to justify discrimination and to limit political rights, and they both show disdain for the political views of the common people that borders on contempt. Despite their differences, Burke would play a similar role to Woodward in response to a different crisis four years later. The point of these observations is that the reaction to radicalism normally end p.165




Small, Stephen


associated with the period after the outbreak of war with France in 1793, can be seen to start in Ireland as early as 1786. This insight leads to a more subtle account of 1790s radicalism: one that sees its origin in the early 1780s, and the origin of the reaction to it in the Tithe Dispute and the Rightboy disturbances. This reaction, in embryonic form, could even be traced back to 1784, to the press restrictions and the criticism of lower-class and Catholic admission to the Volunteers. It is not merely coincidental that both reactionary impulses coincided with widespread Protestant fears of armed Catholics outside governmental control. This pre-French Revolutionary reaction was not identical to the later variety, but there was a strong, if variable, continuum of anti-Catholic and anti-reform sentiment that ran throughout the 1780s and 1790s and drew on very similar arguments and instincts. In the short term, this Ascendancy reaction set the cause of radical parliamentary reform back by four to five years. The long-term effect was to exacerbate terminal tensions within Irish Patriotism. Patriotism, even at its most tolerant, had always been a somewhat onesided compromise between Protestant and Catholic. It required Catholic passivity and deference, and gradual admission of Catholics to the polity ‘depended entirely on their acceptance of an inferior status in Irish Society’. As Bartlett puts it, ‘it was axiomatic to Protestants what could and could not be conceded; concessions, moreover, were for Irish Protestants to make when they judged the time appropriate and for Irish Catholics to receive with due gratitude’.40 However, the Patriot compromise did require Protestants to allow for the possibility of gradual Catholic political inclusion, even if this were conditional on ‘good behaviour’ and not immediate. In the 1780s, liberal-minded Patriots, both Protestant and Catholic, expected the wealth, property, and education of Protestants to maintain their leadership position until Catholics were educated and wealthy enough to make religious distinction politically irrelevant—most Catholics did not seriously expect to challenge Protestant leadership for some time. But they did expect to be treated with respect and courtesy as fellow Irishmen and that the door to their future inclusion should not be locked. The balance of this unstable Patriot compromise varied over time. When Protestant Patriots were confident and dominant, piecemeal Catholic inclusion could be contemplated. When Protestant dominance was under perceived or real threat, they were more wary of sharing power, even in modest amounts. Bartlett explains these shifts in terms of Protestant fear. Central to the growth of ‘Protestant nationalism’, he argues, ‘was the end p.166




absence of fear’. Thus, ‘in the face of renewed Catholic threat, Irish Protestants abandoned nationalism and settled for a “Protestant Ascendancy”’.41 This formula captures general shifts in majority Protestant opinion. But the stark contrast between these two concepts of Protestant nationalism42 and Protestant Ascendancy masks two important points. First, that Protestant Ascendancy can be seen as a development of certain strands within Protestant Patriotism. Secondly, not all Protestants abandoned the more inclusive form of Patriotism. Interestingly, these positions were not even perceived as mutually exclusive by some Patriots. In the early 1790s, for example, Henry Grattan and John Forbes tried to hold the rhetoric of Protestant Ascendancy and inclusive Patriotism together, despite the seemingly inherent contradictions.43 However, the ideology of Protestant Ascendancy intensified tensions within the broad church of Irish Patriotism, and by providing an exceptionally divisive language for Protestants to express their fear of Catholics, it seriously damaged the possibility of compromise. Of course, divisive political language had long been used by Irish Protestants, but there was a succinct, coherent finality about this formulation that precluded hope of future moderation. It rejected the liberal Patriot compromise with the Catholics altogether, and in doing so it marked off one set of Patriots from another. As Campbell rightly saw, Woodward sought an exclusive Irish Patriotism that narrowed the foundation of allegiance. As a result ‘that generous and exhalted sentiment, the love of our country, which has formed the Patriot and hero in every age, is thereby debased, and sunk in the fanciful or interested notion of ecclesiasticks’.44 Thus, the creation of ‘Protestant Ascendancy’ was part of a struggle for the soul of Patriotism and an attempt to restrict that Patriotism to the Church of Ireland. This not only put radical reformers on the defensive, it laid the foundations of a new alliance of interests between radical reformers and those who thought themselves on the periphery (i.e. Catholics) to oppose this narrowing of Patriotism. The new cleavage this created anticipated the extreme polarization of the 1790s and led to the gradual disintegration of traditional Patriotism. The new alliance of interests would seek an alternative radical, and eventually republican, Patriotism in opposition to Protestant Ascendancy. end p.167


II . THE REGENCY CRISIS, THE IRISH WHIGS, AND THE REVIVAL OF LIBERAL PATRIOTISM The Tithe Dispute had put radical Patriots on the defensive, but it did not induce complete hibernation, and at the end of 1788 they were given an opportunity to http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p042_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:36


reassert themselves when the rhetoric of Protestant Ascendancy was interrupted by the incapacity of George III. The regency crisis was an ideal issue for Irish Patriots to rally around. They could resurrect unifying Patriot instincts for preserving and asserting their recently won parliamentary independence, while ignoring traditionally divisive issues such as religion and parliamentary reform. As a result, the crisis led to a unity of purpose among Patriots not seen since 1782, which, in turn, spilled over into the subsequent Dublin Mayoral dispute of 1790. Both episodes were as much to do with personalities and the manoeuvring of party factions as fundamental political principles. But the regency debate in particular contained arguments of importance to the development of Patriot, radical, and even republican thought. There are two main issues of interest: the consequences of a separation of the executives of Britain and Ireland, and the formation of an Irish Whig ‘party’. As the crisis raised the possibility that the two parliaments might choose different heads of state, Irishmen once again wrestled with conflicts between genuine independence and the security of the Protestant interest. The chances of an Irish executive under the Prince of Wales co-existing with a British executive under George III may have been small, but given the uncertainty of the post-1782 Anglo-Irish connection it could not be ruled out in theory. This option could be viewed in one of two ways: as a dangerous constitutional crisis, or an ideal chance to reaffirm legislative independence after seven years of disappointingly persistent British ministerial control. The Castle took the first view, with Lord Chancellor Fitz-gibbon arguing that Irish parliamentary independence from Britain must be balanced by the security of executive dependence upon her crown. This entailed tacit acceptance of the British parliament’s right to make a regent for Ireland.45 Cautious writers argued that national pride did not require dissent from the British decision purely for the sake of it. The separation of Britain and Ireland could be the result of such dissent, argued one Anglophile, and he end p.168


‘did not suppose any man so blind and insensible to the situation and interests of his country, as to nourish for a moment so fatal a principle’. The necessity of unity in the executive power of Britain and Ireland was far more important in his eyes than Irish caprice and pride.46 But voicing such pro-administration concerns was unpopular in 1789 and 1790, as Isaac Burke Bethel found when addressing the Ciceronian Society. Despite the noisy criticism of an obviously Whiggish audience, he gave a spirited defence of Pitt’s ‘mild and consistent’ administration. He then argued that ‘in the hour of public peril, the steady Patriot is he who cultivates that national unanimity which is essential to success by silence, rather than break it by speaking’. Proving as good as his word, Bethel then withdrew from the society.47 Patriots, of course, vigorously refuted such views and advised caution in admitting the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p042_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:36


principle ‘that the example of the British Parliament has any binding force, or authority in this country’. Instead of copying Britain, Ireland ‘should be proud to dissent from their conduct. First, because what has been done by them is wrong in itself; next, because here is a solemn occasion of disclaiming the controul of the British Parliament.’ According to this author, Ireland should confer the executive power ‘free and unfettered on the Heir Apparant of the Crown’48 Once again vigilance was needed from true Patriots to ensure that the British parliament did not use the crisis as an opportunity to resume decision-making powers for Ireland. If Ireland relinquished control of this decision, it would lose its consequence in the empire and its influence on the deliberations of the common monarch.49 These Patriots were usually not proto-separatists. They generally sought equality of rights and respect within the Empire without severing the British connection. But balancing desires for equality with Britain with the need to maintain a workable connection caused considerable problems. Some moderate Patriots realized that the existing system of government, as well as Irish personal and party connections with Britain, entailed the mixing of British and Irish politics. The unified executive meant that ‘the principles of the ruling party in England must, in their present relationship of the two Countries, find their way into this kingdom, and direct the end p.169


administration of affairs here’. Hence the duty of all good Irishmen was not to oppose all government or seek separation, but ‘to examine well those principles; that, if they should accord with his own, he may support the government, otherwise that he may give it opposition’.50 Such a cautious response to the new Anglo-Irish constitutional arrangement was not to every Patriot’s taste, and some urged a complete separation from Britain except for the connection of the crown. But the parliamentary Patriots (who were increasingly referred to as the Irish Whigs) did not really want a different executive. They merely wanted the rhetorical luxury of claiming the right to one while expecting that the British would be forced into the same decision in any case. This desire led one to boast, ‘If she [Britain] can, of right, depose her King, so can we’, before hurriedly stating that all Irishmen were, of course, loyal to their sovereign—as if suddenly realizing the subversive and treasonous implications of his statement.51 Reckless assertions like this, while doing little to resolve Ireland’s constitutional conundrum, were at least a sign that liberal Patriots were rediscovering their rhetorical confidence. Familiar Patriotic terms such as ‘virtue’, ‘spirit’, and ‘perseverance’ were once more lavished on their heroes for their efforts on behalf of liberty, only this time the Irish Whigs, not the Volunteers, were the recipients.52 Patriot rhetoric displaying a confidence not seen since 1784 portrayed Ireland as not only fit for equal treatment with Britain, but as the true guardian of British constitutional principles while British politicians degraded the affair with squalid party machinations. In Britain the crisis was http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p042_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:36


merely ‘a struggle for power, a trial of party strength at the expense of the constitution’. It was left to Ireland to defend constitutional principles against the British Parliament: to ‘read a lesson of Constitution to the parent country, and awake her drooping spirit’.53 Lofty indifference to party was hardly a fair depiction of Irish political behaviour. Irish parliamentary Patriots were undoubtedly motivated by party interest, and the debate surrounding the growth of Irish party raised interesting issues. As a direct consequence of the crisis, leading Irish Patriots formed themselves into a Whig Club in the summer of 1789, thus formalizing and strengthening pre-existing connections between Patriots end p.170




Small, Stephen


in the Irish parliament and British Whigs.54 The senior members of the club formed a distinguished group. As well as the Duke of Leinster and the Earls of Charlemont, Moira, and Arran, prominent MPs such as Henry Grattan, George and William Ponsonby, Sir Edward Newenham, John Philpot Curran, and Thomas Conolly were included. There had been plans to form an Irish Whig club as early as 1783,55 and the development is hardly surprising given the close political and personal links between the British and Irish parliamentary Whigs. There were familial ties between the Ponsonbys and both the Duke of Portland and the Duke of Devonshire. The secretary of the Whig club, Thomas Conolly, was an uncle of Charles James Fox (who was also friendly with Grattan) and brother-in-law of the radical Duke of Richmond. The appearance of an Irish Whig club with close links to British Whigs caused problems for the Patriots. First, there was a general objection to party itself that still carried weight, despite Burke’s efforts to normalize the role of party in his Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents.56 Traditionally, Patriotism portrayed itself as a benevolent, disinterested love of country, which eschewed party as inherently factional and against the common good. This did not preclude coordinated and sustained opposition from the ‘secret influence’ of ‘a great faction’ of ministers,57 but an organized party was somewhat dubious. Secondly, and more damagingly, there was an objection to the overt connection of the Irish Whig party with a British party. Their credibility as Irish Patriots was fundamentally compromised. For how could they act purely for the common good of Ireland if being directed by the self-interest of British politicians? Henry Flood, a notable absentee from the new Irish Whig party, was the most prominent Patriot to voice such objections.58 But criticism of the new party and its attachments was common.59 Thomas Cooke seized on objections to both party and foreign connection, depicting Thomas Conolly’s involvement as Whig Club secretary as a dramatic fall from grace. ‘From being a leading volunteer’ Conolly had ‘dwindled into a wretched skirmisher in a corps of partizans’. Cooke end p.171


declared the Irish Whigs a defeated aristocratic cabal, and he asked the Irish people rhetorically if they were ‘prepared to become a contemptible and passive engine to be played off in every direction which may suit the designs of English opposition?’60 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p043_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:59


Ironically, such criticisms reveal both the Irish Whigs and the Castle to be using very similar (and very Patriotic) arguments. Both factions claimed to protect Irish independence from pernicious British influence: for the Whigs this influence was ministerial, for the Castle it was Foxite. Cooke saw the Irish Whigs as ambitious mock-Patriots ‘concealed under the graces of popularity, or disguised in the visor of Patriotism’.61 Such portrayals were hardly new. Indeed, the continued currency of such critiques in 1790 shows that the political debates generated by the formation of the Irish Whigs often retained a very traditional character. One ‘Irishman’ was not surprised that ‘self-interest, discontent, or resentment should clothe in the dress of Patriotism, the vilest and foulest principles that ever disturbed society’. The Irish Whigs, he suggested, were merely aristocratic populists engaged in a self-interested struggle for office—and not without some success, for ‘to assume the veil of Patriotism, to boast its sufferings and to manifest its constancy—go an inconceivable way in the formation of a popular character’.62 Surprisingly, the ‘Irishman’ did not object to ‘party’ itself if it was formed on ‘intrinsic principles’ by ‘men, upright, uniform, and incorruptible’. But the real question was ‘whether A Party can possibly be expected to act steadily, and invariably, for the real interests of Ireland, while the very bond and security of its union is an implicit attachment to another party in England’.63 Irish Whigs responded with a number of arguments in defence of party. First, against the charge of domination by a foreign faction, they asserted that the connection between British and Irish Whigs was primarily one of principle rather than persons. There was no subservience to Fox.64 The common name of ‘Whig’ merely indicated that both groups adhered to the same sound constitutional principles of the Glorious Revolution. If there were personal connections, these were of the most respectable kind between some of the great landed families in the two countries. Secondly, they defended the value of party in a free state. In the aptly titled The Utility of Party in a Free State Considered, one apologist proclaimed that the creation end p.172


of party should be warmly welcomed as ‘a natural emanation from that independence we have obtained, a symptom that liberty has taken root and shoots up vigorously among us’. Even the criticism levelled at the Whig party could be a beneficial part of this increasing political maturity. ‘We are taught by such discussions’, he argued, ‘to search for our real interests, the constitution is explored, the personal and civil rights of the subject are defined, and a becoming zeal excited to maintain them.’ Doubtless the Castle wished such matters to remain unexplored, for the predicted consequences were ‘a firmness in the cause of freedom, an habit of cautiously attending to the conduct of men in power, [and] a steady resolution to resist with vigour whatever a profligate or inconsiderate minister may attempt against the interest of the nation, or the security of



the subject’.65 Furthermore, the Whig party was justified because it gave Irish Patriots leadership and focus. As the author of Thoughts on a Letter, Addressed to ... Conolly declared to his ‘Friends and Countrymen’ ‘heretofore you have had no formed and regular system of opposition to the arbitrary designs of a corrupt Government... what more fortunate occasion could be offered to this country than a UNION of MEN, avowing great constitutional principles, and pledging themselves as men of honour for the maintenance of them?’66 For this author, party was a vehicle for honour and virtue to exert a controlling influence on a corrupt executive. By subscribing their names to declarations or resolutions, partymen added the obligations of private honour to public virtue. Hence the weaknesses of human nature in the face of a demanding ethos of classical republican virtue were bolstered by a desire to preserve honour among one’s peers. Through this mechanism, the not so invisible hand of party made up the deficit of Patriotic virtue in the modern commercial state. If the love of our Country be for the most part too weak a spring of action, and men cannot be induced from motives perfectly pure and disinterested to serve the Commonwealth, is it the part of a good and firm citizen to despair? No, he will take human nature as he finds it, and employ every fair and honourable means to attain the great and good end which he has in view—he will engage the virtues and feelings of the private gentleman in the public cause—and he will direct his ambition into that public course, which may be at once most profitable to the individual, and most useful to the state.67 The classical ideas of honour and self-sacrifice in the name of liberty and the patrie were, as we have seen, very powerful in the ideological construction end p.173


of the Volunteers. Now party was a conduit for the honour and virtue so important for Patriot and radical political thought. Like the Volunteers, the Irish Whigs were also draped in classical robes and compared to Whig heroes to enhance their appeal. Party, it was argued, had been conducive to liberty in Rome as well as the ancient republics of Carthage and Greece and the modern ones of Italy, Holland, and Geneva. Furthermore, ‘neither the epithet nor principle were disdained by Cicero or Brutus, nor by names yet more precious to our ears, by Russell, Sidney, Cavendish or Somers’.68 In terms of its principles, the Whig Club was relatively moderate and traditional. It eschewed grand theories for practical parliamentary goals and there was little hint of genuine radicalism. The club pledged to oppose corruption, the sale of peerages, and a union with Britain. It supported the liberty of the press and the personal liberty of the subject. It also had detailed legislative plans for place and pension bills, a bill to abolish or modify the Dublin police, a bill to restrain the executive from arbitrarily extending the county police, a responsibility bill, and a bill to disqualify the dependent officers of http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p043_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:59


the revenue from voting for MPs.69 There was no mention of reforming the electoral system or repealing the remaining penal laws. However, in cooperation with the British Whigs, they formed a potentially powerful joint opposition to the administration on both sides of the Irish Sea. The Irish Whigs even managed to win over enough support to censure Lord Lieutenant Buckingham and to defeat the Castle on the regency question by carrying an address in both Houses asking the Prince of Wales to assume the regency. The recovery of the King just after a parliamentary delegation had left Ireland to deliver this address led to considerable embarrassment for the Irish Whigs, but their brief demonstration of political clout ensured that they were supported by a wide crosssection of Patriot opinion. For a short time during 1789 and 1790 the prospect of an organized parliamentary party able and willing to deliver meaningful, if moderate, reform ensured the support of radicals for the parliamentary Whigs.70 During 1790 a Patriot and radical renaissance occurred. The bitterly contested County Down election helped to revive Dissenter political activity in Ulster, while Dublin urban radicalism became reinvigorated under the leadership of Napper Tandy—who was also a member of the Whig Club. Initially good will and cooperation between the radicals and the end p.174


Whigs was the order of the day. Compliments were paid by radicals to the parliamentary opposition, who, in turn, gave support to the popular side of a dispute within the Dublin Corporation over the next mayor.71 Radicals were ultimately to reject the broad-based moderation of the club, which, remarkably, was capable of containing both the future United Irishman, Archibald Hamilton Rowan, and a confirmed defender of Ascendancy, Arthur Browne MP.72 But it provided a catalyst for the regeneration of ideas from the early 1780s that already seemed to be from a previous historical era. One ‘Old Volunteer’ saw the Whig Club as merely the most recent manifestation of the ‘spirit of Volunteering’, which was ‘thank heaven, rising anew, and will soon shine conspicuously with redoubled lustre and effect, till our political grievances are entirely removed’.73 His pamphlet, by reproducing selections of famous Patriot writings, incorporated relatively recent Volunteer triumphs into a classical republican cyclical view of history. ‘The virtuous Ulster Volunteers will have their names recorded in the list of Fame, and their spirit mentioned to the latest periods of revolving time’, he asserted. Already, within a decade, a pantheon of Irish classical republican icons had been created for contemporary inspiration. And now ‘a new era’ had ‘sprung up in this kingdom’ with ‘that glorious and Patriotic institution the WHIG CLUB’, which had ‘associated to deliver Ireland from the trammels of the most tyrannic Oligarchy that ever the sons of Ierne groaned under’.74 In similar vein, another pamphleteer observed that the people of Ireland had scarcely lain down their arms before their rights had again been invaded. They could only find protection ‘by a strict and firm adherence to http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p043_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:07:59


those resolutions, which you [the Whig Club] have formed for their political creed’.75 Thus, the Whig Club was of importance to the development of Patriot and radical thought for three reasons. First, it helped to revive Patriot and radical activity after a period of reaction. Secondly, although moderate and elitist in itself, it had a politicizing effect not unlike the Volunteers in the early 1780s. Thirdly, any general justifications it gave for the creation of end p.175




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‘party’ helped justify the creation of other Patriot or radical political groups. However, tensions between Whiggism and radicalism soon surfaced. Shortly after the mayoral dispute, Dublin Patriots formed a new and more radical group, the Whigs of the Capital, many of whose members would become United Irishmen. Within months, the Whigs of the Capital were assiduously publishing and distributing cheap (6d.) versions of Paine’s Rights of Man, Part I to the urban poor of Dublin and beyond. The Painite popularization of politics was beginning, and it would bring both the full fruition of Irish radicalism and the disintegration of the broad church of Irish Patriotism.

III . THE RADICAL REVIVAL AND EARLY FISSURES IN THE PATRIOTWHIG DISCOURSE From its outbreak in 1789, the French Revolution exacerbated pressures on the PatriotWhig consensus. But the real impact of the debate on France came a little later.76 Early tensions between radicalism and moderate Whiggism were home grown and evident from the start of the Whig Club’s existence. The ‘Old Volunteer’, for example, went far beyond parliamentary Whiggism by proposing two reforms for a ‘renovated’ constitution that would not have found favour with most in the Whig Club. He sought a complete repeal of the penal laws, and equal representation ‘by the same salutary regulations as in France’.77 Soon the Whig Club’s popularity had inspired the formation of other Whig clubs that were beyond its control and far more radical. The very act of formulating and popularizing a party position had helped to polarize and crystallize the serious divisions within Patriotism. The correspondence between Dr Alexander Haliday and the Earl of Charlemont gives a fascinating insight into the reaction of Irish Whigs to the growing radicalism and to the early stages of their divergence from it. Charlemont, a founder member of the Irish Whig Club, urged his friend Haliday (a former pupil of Francis Hutcheson), to form a Whig club in Belfast. The resulting ‘sketch’ of a preamble for the Northern Whig Club, sent by Haliday to Charlemont for his approval, is a useful summation of liberal Whig principles as they stood in Belfast in February 1790. The unease with which it was greeted by the aristocratic Charlemont is indicative end p.176



of its latent radicalism. Haliday’s amalgam of classical republicanism and contract theory is already significantly more radical than the principles of the Irish Whig Club. We declare that government is an original compact between the governors and the governed, instituted for the good of the whole community; that in a limited monarchy, or, more properly speaking (respect being had to the constitution of these realms), a regal Commonwealth, the majesty is in the people; and though the person on the throne is superior to any individual, he is but the servant of the nation; that our constitution is formed of the three legislative branches, the balance between each must be preserved to prevent the destruction of the whole; that electors ought to be free, the elected independent; that parliamentary influence by places and pensions is inconsistent with the virtue and safety of the public, and that a minister who endeavours to govern by corruption is guilty of the violent attempt to subvert the constitution; that our prosperity depends on trade, which it is in our interests to encourage and protect; that the freedom of the press is the bulwark of religious and civil liberty; that as religion is of utmost importance to every individual, no person ought to suffer civil hardship for his religious persuasion, unless the tenets of his religion lead him to endeavour to subvert the state.78 Charlemont praised the draft, but objected to the phrase ‘regal Commonwealth’, preferring ‘limited monarchy’—presumably because it sounded less overtly republican. He also worried about the implications of complete religious toleration for the Catholics, despite the thinly veiled proviso excluding those with religious tenets that may subvert the state. Haliday assured Charlemont that no one else objected to either element even ‘though many ... are as averse as any man breathing from republican ideas and from popery’.79 Charlemont relented, but he was right to be anxious, for this sort of Whig language could easily give rise to radical principles in the wrong hands. A king who is but servant of the nation can be justifiably resisted if he acts contrary to its interests. Similarly, if government is a contract instituted for the good of the whole community, any government action detrimental to the public good could be seen as a breach of this contract. The late 1790s were to provide a host of candidates for such a breach, such as the Insurrection, Militia, and Indemnity Acts, and the suspension of Habeas Corpus to name but a few. Furthermore, it was becoming less reasonable for Protestants to assert that Catholics were endeavouring to subvert the state as an inevitable end p.177


consequence of their faith. The events in France threw such assumptions into confusion. Like almost all Whigs and Patriots, both Haliday and Charlemont were strong supporters of the French Revolution in its early stages, and this forced a re-evaluation of Catholic stereotypes. On the one hand, French Catholics were responsible for the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p044_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:17


revolution, thus showing an undeniable capacity for liberty. On the other, the Catholic Church itself was increasingly seen as a beleaguered ally of conservatism-especially after the Civil Constitution of the Clergy of July 1790. Like most other Protestants, Haliday continued to harbour distrust of Catholicism, but unlike Charlemont he began to realize that distrust did not automatically preclude citizenship. Catholics, it was evident, were quite capable of playing as wide a range of roles within the state as anybody else, from subversives to reactionaries. Despite their differences over the Catholic question, the views of Haliday and Charlemont could both be contained within mainstream Whiggism. But the coherence of this Whiggism was soon to be subjected to severe ideological pressure, as the impact of Burke and Paine began to polarize opinion within the broad Patriot-Whig discourse. In a fairly short space of time, disagreements widened significantly on a number issues, such as the nature of the Anglo-Irish connection, Irish national identity, reform of the electoral system, and the role of Catholics in the state. This radicalization is well demonstrated by an analysis of Tone’s pamphlets from 1790 and 1791. Tone’s Review of the Conduct of Administration (1790) is a scathing critique of a corrupt administration, but it is couched in standard Whig rhetoric. The language is fairly violent, but hardly novel, and the agenda is entirely set by the Whig parliamentary programme: corruption, places, pensions, administrative responsibility, and the police are its concerns. His appeal to the electors is not especially radical nor separatist, and as we can see from the following exhortation to his fellow Irishmen, such language could have come from any late eighteenth-century Patriot or Whig. If they would not have an armed ruffian stand sentinel at every man’s door in the land, let them reprobate the police. If they would annihilate corruption, let them condemn the pension list. If they would keep the House of Commons uninfluenced, let them approve the place bill. If they would guard the treasure of the public, from the rapacious prodigality of an English viceroy, let them demand responsibility. If they would preserve the purity of the legislature from the insidious seduction of an English Secretary, let them cry aloud at the prostitution of the Peerage, by making it saleable.80 end p.178


There is some anti-English rhetoric in this anti-ministerial diatribe, but similar sentiments could have been found in 1779 or 1782.81 Later that year, Tone produced another pamphlet, Spanish War!, in response to the prospect of war between Britain and Spain over the Nootka Sound incident. Although focused on a single issue, this is a much more original and radical work. Its arguments are implicitly separatist and even have an anti-monarchical undertone in the insistence on an Irish parliamentary veto on any declaration of war by the king. His analysis goes http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p044_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:17


directly to the heart of the Anglo-Irish connection by asking ‘whether Ireland be, of right, bound to support a war, declared by the King of Great Britain, on motives and interests purely British?’ As a matter of right, the issue, he thought, was simple. Ireland has a separate and independent legislature that cannot be bound by a declaration of war by the monarch in his capacity of king of Great Britain. Tone concedes that Ireland could be engaged by a declaration of war by George III as the king of Ireland, but even this did not entail unquestioning obedience. The Irish parliament, having the same constitutional powers as the British, could withhold supplies or refuse to renew the Mutiny Act (thereby effectively dismantling the legal status of army discipline). Thus, Ireland was not bound to support any war until approved by its parliament.82 Tone then examined other reasons why Ireland could be morally obliged to involve itself in the war, namely ‘the good of the empire’, ‘the protection which England affords us’, and ‘the honour of the British flag’. First, the quarrel was, he argued, a purely English one that would not profit Ireland despite the money it would spend and the lives it would lose. Secondly, English protection could not confer obligation because it was forced upon Ireland. Not trusted to defend herself, Ireland was kept without a navy to be ‘retained in subjection and dependence on England, and so be compelled to purchase her protection, whenever her interest or her pride may think proper to plunge us into war’. Finally, Tone sought to replace the British flag with an Irish one as the proper object of Irish national pride. All the complex bonds of tradition, sentiment, and precedent contained in the Anglo-Irish connection (which Burke deemed so important) were ruthlessly broken by Tone. Such iconoclasm was far more than superficially symbolic: it contained radical, separatist implications. Ardent end p.179


eighteenth-century Patriotism was beginning to hint at revolutionary nationalism. WHERE IS THE NATIONAL FLAG OF IRELAND? ... such a badge of inferiority, between the two Kingdoms, is a serious grievance. Is the bold pride of Patriotism nothing? is the ardent spirit of independence nothing? Is national rank nothing?... the honor of the British is the degredation [sic] of the Irish flag. We are compelled to skulk under the protection of England.83 This theme is further developed in Tone’s An Argument on Behalf of the Catholics of Ireland (1791). Written in July 1791, this is the classic statement of early 1790s Irish radicalism. It clearly reveals the theoretical links that radicals made between Real Whig concerns over corruption in the executive, Irish independence (though not full separation yet), parliamentary reform and Catholic emancipation. Tone’s fluent, persuasive catalogue of arguments on behalf of Catholic political rights and capabilities was rarely novel, there had been arguments along similar lines expressed since the early 1780s, but no one had abandoned the logic of Catholic incapacity to quite the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p044_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:17


same extent as Tone now did. In doing so he publicly crossed the Rubicon of Protestant superiority, and because, for Tone, Catholics were no longer incapable of liberty, the central paradox for Irish classical republicans (i.e. the problem of establishing liberty in a polity where the majority of the people lacked virtue and reason) simply dissolved. This development requires some explanation. Toleration of Catholics had been increasing, in some quarters, since the early 1780s, but the French Revolution completed the conversion of radical Protestants like Tone to the Catholic cause. Typically, radical Protestants had one of two subtly different responses to the French Revolution. First, for enlightened, rational Protestants (who had already ceased to fear papal power) the spectacle of the largest Catholic nation throwing off the shackles of tyranny persuaded them to re-evaluate the importance of Catholicism as a predictor of civic capacity. Secondly, some Dissenters (who still took popery very seriously) saw events in France as the beginning of a general collapse of Catholicism, which might open the door to Catholic political inclusion. For this group, as McBride puts it, ‘The significance of the revolution lay in the dismantling of the Roman Catholic Church in France, which Presbyterians interpreted ... as a vital step toward the destruction of the Roman Antichrist. With the collapse of papal power apparently imminent, the moral regeneration of the native Irish became a possibility.’84 Both these views end p.180




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entailed a new receptivity to Catholic rights that could be exploited by pamphlets like Tone’s. They also, it should be noted, imply a complex and limited process of secularization in Irish radical thought. As the Tithe Dispute demonstrated, some disputants (both Protestant and Catholic) already thought the use of religious distinctions in political discussions increasingly archaic and distasteful. For many others (such as Presbyterian covenanters and Anglican conservatives) religion remained of paramount importance. Thus, even within the Protestant patriotism, an increasingly secular tradition which suppressed lingering concerns about Catholics beneath a theoretical conviction that Catholics could be good citizens evolved alongside a persistently Protestant tradition which continued to attach political rights and virtues to religious denominations. Tone’s Argument appealed primarily to the former, but it could also sway Old Light Presbyterians. The formal structure of Tone’s main argument was as follows. The balance of power between the people and the executive had tilted entirely in the latter’s favour for two reasons: the executive had been corrupted by English influence, and the people were disunited. This relationship needed rebalancing if real liberty was to be achieved. The only way to do so was to give ‘the people’ more power by reforming parliament to make it truly representative of their interests. Any institution claiming to be truly representative of the people could not ignore three-quarters of the nation’s population. Therefore it must represent the Catholics as well as Protestants. Tone summarized it thus: That Ireland, as deriving her government from another country, requires a strength in the people which may enable them, if necessary, to counteract the influence of that government, [which] ... has been exerted, to thwart her prosperity: That this strength may be most constitutionally acquired, and safely and peaceably exerted through the medium of a Parliamentary Reform: And finally, that no reform is honourable, practicable, efficacious, or just, which does not include as a fundamental principle, the extension of elective franchise to the Roman Catholics.85 This argument, which was to form the basis of the early United Irish programme, seems quite straightforward on the surface, yet it actually contained a number of different arguments characteristic of the eclectic mixture of natural rights and functional approaches identified in Chapter 4. Tone’s primary purpose oscillated between checking corrupt executive end p.181




power and asserting the rights of Catholics. The two were not necessarily connected. Indeed many Patriots thought Catholic emancipation unnecessary, or even counterproductive, to the goal of a balanced constitution due to their perceived lack of virtue and reason. Furthermore some conservatives sought Catholic emancipation to buttress and stabilize the existing system without any desire for reforms to check executive power. There is no doubt that Tone was genuinely concerned with Catholic emancipation for its own sake,86 but his main justification for Catholic emancipation was usually its utility in securing balanced government rather than the realization of natural rights. The tension between functional and rights-based argument also applies to his discussion of the English connection. In some passages reform and emancipation are required to check an executive dominance which, almost incidentally, is caused by English influence; in others they are a necessary step in establishing the right of Ireland to independence from England. These arguments are perfectly complementary, and Tone’s purpose was practical persuasion not rigorous consistency. If his arguments leave a few messy ends to tie up for a political theorist, this is hardly Tone’s concern. But the messy ends are there. Thus, on one level, the Argument should be seen as another example of the eclectic and wide-ranging languages which radicals and Patriots used in the late eighteenth century: the primary purpose of which was rhetorical rather than analytical. On this level Tone’s Argument does not repay too much analysis in search of precise formulations of his political philosophy. However, the distinctions made above between the different types of argument underpinning his rhetoric do allow us to put his emerging radicalism into some perspective. The functional arguments, for example, are an indication that, like earlier Patriots, he was using a much less radical model of ‘the people’ than it first appears. For the people are still often little more than the counterweight to executive power found in Real Whig and Country rhetoric throughout the eighteenth century. On the issues of Catholic citizenship and Irish independence, Tone had certainly become a radical by the standards of the day, but on the issue of popular participation, Tone is still decidedly Whiggish. We can see this clearly from his preferred mode of parliamentary reform, which would impose a £ 10 per annum freehold franchise qualification on Catholics and ‘strike off that disgrace to our Constitution and our country, the wretched tribe of forty shilling freeholders, whom we see driven to their octennial market, by their landlords, as much end p.182


their property as the sheep or bullocks which they brand with their names’. By doing so, he tells the Irish people, you would ‘at one stroke purge yourselves of the gross and http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p045_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:35


feculent mass which contaminates the Protestant interest, and restore their natural and just weight to the sound and respectable part of the Catholic community’.87 This last observation could easily have been made by Burke and is a long way from Tone’s later appeal to the men of no property. On the eve of the United Irishmen’s formation, therefore, Tone’s thought was an intriguing mixture of the old-fashioned and the modern. Natural rights-based radicalism was combined with traditional (and quite elitist) classical republican concerns about balanced government and corruption. Despite his forceful defence of Irish rights, his criteria for full citizenship still rested on property and rank (even if that rank would include the middling sorts). He was still, it seems, more interested in the functional role of ‘the people’ as a check on government than the natural right to representation. He was part radical but still part Whig. There is a common theme in the Argument and Spanish War!, however, which helps explain Tone’s developing radicalism. This is his use of the terms ‘honour’ and ‘liberty’. For Tone, man cannot be expected to live, function, and flourish in society without honour, and a political system that prevents this, invites and deserves destruction. But honour cannot be had without liberty, that ‘vital principle of man’. Thus, slavery is not merely unjust, it is so degrading that it cannot be endured with honour. When Tone, referring to the Catholics, implores his fellow Protestants to ‘let them be citizens, let them be men’, he is warning them to embrace the Catholics before their proper sense of honour inevitably demands redress in a more violent manner. On repeated occasions Tone also expressed concern for the ‘rank’, ‘pride’, and ‘name’ of both individuals and the Irish nation. The misfortune of Ireland having ‘no National Government’ is not regretted purely because of the injustice and bad government it produces, but also because of its diminution of Ireland’s rank among the nations of the earth. Tone’s injured pride at the ‘administration of boobies and blockheads [who] presume to insult and pillage’ Ireland is palpable, and in his view ‘no Irishman of rank could become a member or supporter of Government, without at once renouncing all pretensions to common decency, honesty, or honour’.88 This theme crops up again and again. For example, Tone is extremely critical of both the capitulation and the policies of the Volunteer Convention end p.183


of 1783. Not only were the delegates ‘disgraced, because they were illiberal, and degraded because they were unjust; through them the honor of their country was wounded, her name sunk, her glories forgotten’.89 An exaggerated rhetoric of honour was common in the eighteenth century and especially so in Ireland, where the prevalence of duelling was notoriously high.90 But Tone’s is highly pronounced even by these standards. It shows an addiction to the images of classical virtue and glory prevalent among Patriots raised to an even higher pitch by the impact of events in http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p045_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:35


France.91 Such a rhetoric can quickly raise the stakes if taken seriously by either party. Tone is not merely making proposals for the benefit of his country, he is staking his integrity and his highly valued sense of honour on the radical reform of a system that negated the very essence of human nature. If used often enough, such rhetoric can itself dictate the actions and principles of its mouthpiece: it is hard to moderate one’s views or step into the background after such declarations without dramatic loss of face. The dynamic of this style of rhetoric, therefore, tends to extremes and to confrontation, even if the underlying goals are themselves far from uniformly radical. In the summer of 1790, Tone had vigorously supported the Whig Club. He was obviously disillusioned by the summer of 1791. Of course, in the year or so that covered these pamphlets, much had happened to influence him. Burke’s Reflections were published in November 1790. The first part of Paine’s Rights of Man appeared in March 1791.92 And events in France were beginning to make a serious impact on political debate and activity in Ireland (as evidenced by the Belfast celebrations of the second anniversary of the fall of the Bastille). The French Revolution increasingly presented a severe challenge to Irish Patriots. If the French could free themselves from arbitrary government by their own efforts after centuries of degradation, should not Irishmen, supposedly familiar with the habits of freedom, be able to do the same? This challenge was ingeniously articulated in an Address from the National Assembly of France to the People of Ireland (1790). The violence of this pamphlet’s language seems too strong for this to have end p.184


been a genuine address from the French National Assembly, and it was almost certainly an Irish fabrication. But in many ways this makes it more noteworthy as it contains some very radical sentiments for 1790. Your proximity to Britain has set you apart from the nations, and you now appear to us rising out of the sea like a new discovered island. We have indeed long known and admired the valour of Irishmen, who have so often fought and bled at our side;... but they never told us that they had a country; and until the assertion of independence lately reached our ears, you were a cypher among nations, of a certain relative value, intrinsically insignificant.93 The ‘National Assembly’ then challenged Ireland to explain its post-1782 status and declare the basis on which it claimed nationhood. We want to know whether you have really a distinct dominion, an imperial crown, or an independent Legislature? we would know whether the British Parliament be still competent to supervise and control the executive authority of your island? We would know what you have given up, and what you have reserved, what are the principles of your connexion, and what the foundation of your asserted independence. ... In http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p045_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:35


short... WHAT ARE YOU?94 Once the gauntlet had been thrown down, Ireland was invited to resolve these questions through ‘a federation with France, for the defence of the rights of humanity, and for maintaining the independence of smaller states’. It was clear that this ‘great fœderal republic’ would involve a style of radical reform wholly alien to the British Whig tradition. ‘Political abuses’, the assembly declared, must be overturned completely and at once, or not at all—A slow and partial reform always ends where it began: for from a single stump remaining in the earth, there will spring fresh abuses. We have an axe—we have laid it to the root of evil, not to the branches. Political like moral reform must not merely be the fitful repentance of the sinner, that feels a few qualms of conscience—forces over a few redressing bills, and then returns to the brothel!95 Rhetoric like this was enough to strike fear into the heart of the most liberal parliamentary Whigs. It was the language of revolution, and the people of Ireland were being told that sybaritic aristocratic reformers were not the friends of the people after all. Such revolutionary sentiments formed one-half of the polarizing tensions at the end of 1790: Burke formed the other when he published his end p.185




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Reflections on the Revolution in France. The Reflections brought a varied response from Irishmen. A few, such as Thomas Goold, refuted the radical slant given to Whiggism by Priestley, Wollstonecraft, and others, while trying to defend Burke as a mainstream Whig. Burke, he argued, had not been inconsistent on liberty, and as Goold understood Whiggism ‘to be, a jealous attachment to the constitution, as settled at the [Glorious] Revolution ... Mr. Burke is the best Whig, and Mr. Burke’s book the most Whig-gish in the language.’96 But most Irish Whigs were profoundly troubled by Burke’s production and some felt obliged to refute its tenets. Liberal Whiggism was under attack, it seemed, from one of its own heroes, and Daniel Thomas sought to maintain its integrity by refuting Burke without being pushed into a defence of radical reform. Like many others, Thomas saw Burke’s Reflections as a dangerous victory of style over sense and resented the ability of Burke to ‘cram any drug’ down his readers’ throats ‘however disgusting it may prove to their palates, if disguised in the whip syllabub of eloquence’.97 With self-conscious moderation, Thomas set up the positions of Burke and Price as the extremes between which he would ‘establish the golden mean’. Price, he thought, under the pretext of establishing liberty, wished to involve society in all the tumults of a democracy; whereas Burke, ‘in censuring the fury of the populace’ insinuated restraint by an absolute monarch.98 Thomas denied Burke’s Hobbesian assertion that man surrenders in trust all his liberty in order to secure some of it. For this had led Burke to the tyrannical conclusion that ‘the whole organization of government becomes a consideration of convenience’, which can rightfully subject passions and thwart wills as it sees fit to maintain society.99 Thomas envisaged a society of civil liberties protecting persons and property, and established in laws, which no amount of convenience could impinge upon. Thomas was essentially an old-fashioned Whig thrown into confusion by the new political divide. He espoused a classical mixed government of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, which, he thought, was the most conformable to reason. His views on the constitution, although deemed a ‘worn out system’, were equally familiar. Equal representation meant representation proportioned exactly to the individual’s understanding and to end p.186




his interest in the welfare of the community. He was certainly no radical, warning that ‘if the people possess a degree of weight superior to their abilities, the most ignorant and most unprincipled of men may be returned, and if the dregs of the people are entrusted with the right of voting, the constitution will be sold for porter and geneva’. But he acknowledged that ‘the king and leading men, who possess an absolute dominion over the decayed boroughs, have also too great influence in many of them’, and ‘if our mode of representation does not amount to a nuisance, (as Dr. Price supposes) it ill merits the praises lavished on it by Mr Burke’.100 Thomas’s most passionate and most effective criticism of Burke was a sturdy demolition of his concept of chivalry. Burke’s praise of chivalry can be seen as a subtle attempt to shift the concept of virtue away from its civic, patriotic, and republican version towards a more Christian, loyalist, and feudal model. This simply would not wash with Thomas. For in extolling chivalry as the motivating spirit of society, Burke implicitly rejected the concept of public virtue exercised by independent landed gentry in favour of a ‘virtue’ that could be exercised by courtiers, priests, and frivolous fops. Thomas saw chivalry as an unhealthy mixture of gallantry, religion, and courage that had blighted the history of Europe. Initiated by returning Crusaders, their desire for booty and the remission of sins merged with moorish customs to produce an extravagant taste for tournaments, music, luxury, and dancing. Chivalry then became a furious, gloomy, lustful, and wild superstition dictating unlimited obedience to an infallible chief. It preferred beauty to intellect, created aggressive states, and promoted arbitrary government. ‘What’, asked Thomas, ‘were the obvious consequences of that chivalry, the destruction of which Mr. Burke so much regrets? The loss to Europe of one half of her inhabitants; a horrid superstition ... a fulsome bombastic adulation of the fair; a gross sensuality; an unbounded profusion; with a courage of passion, equally vaunting and ferocious.’101 Like Thomas, Haliday and Charlemont were also shocked both by Burke’s defence of French tyranny and his violent denunciation of the revolutionaries. Charlemont’s enthusiasm for the French Revolution survived the ignominious return to Paris of Louis after the failed flight to Varennes, the initial dissemination of Paine’s work in Ireland, and Britain’s own example of popular (albeit loyalist) fury in the Priestley Riots. On 13 August 1791 Charlemont could still write to Burke, ‘while I lament the miseries too frequently attendant even upon well conducted revolution, I end p.187


cannot but rejoice that so large a portion of my fellow creatures have ... been emancipated from a tyranny grievous indeed’.102 But Charlemont’s praise of French liberty was rooted in a Whig mentality that also entailed an aversion to Paine. After reading Paine’s response to Burke in The Rights of Man, Part I, Charlemont confided to Haliday: Though I have been greatly entertained by both his work [Paine] and by that of his http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p046_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:52


antagonist [Burke], perhaps I might be induced to wish that neither of them had been published. I confess myself to the last degree partial to the English constitution as it ought to be and I cannot help thinking that a line might be drawn between the projects ... which would be practical, rational, and safe.103 We can see here growing concern for the consequences of a violent polemical debate on the volatile political situation in Ireland. His concern was not ill-founded. The impact of Paine on Ireland was profound, and even future United Irishmen were initially perturbed by Paine’s ideas. Thomas Russell confessed to ‘Doubts as to Payne’s principles’, which he thought could lead to unnecessary violent revolution on the pretext of defending personal liberty.104 Paine’s own estimate of the sales of The Rights of Man, Part I, in Ireland was over 40,000 by November 1791. This may be an exaggeration, but the fact that he thought sales were well over twice the size of his estimate of combined English and Scottish sales of 17,000 at the same date is revealing.105 At least seven Irish editions were published in the first year. The work was serialized in full by the Hibernian Journal, and three other newspapers printed lengthy extracts. Most significantly, Ireland was the first place to produce an edition of The Rights of Man that was cheap enough for mass consumption.106 This edition, which was subsidized by a subscription from the Whigs of the Capital, appeared as early as May 1791, sold for only (yd, and ran to 20,000 copies by November 1791.107 This dissemination of end p.188


radicalism to the masses (at a sixth of the cost of the original London edition) prompted some violent rebukes to the Whigs of the Capital. There is in this country, a description of men, whose principles in politics are republican, and in religion presbyterian, enemies to monarchy in the government, and establishment in the church—to this body a plausible dilation of their favourite tenets must have been particularly acceptable, and to their ears the bolder tone in which Mr. Paine has sounded the trumpet of innovation, could not be but grateful. In a conviction of this, I find my mind amply satisfied as to the motives of dispersing over the country six-penny pacquets of sedition, for the study of a common people, but lately and scarcely emerging from the darkness of ignorance.—A panegeric upon innovation, a ridicule of establishments, a justification of rebellion, a libel upon the government and religion of their country, are good materials to form a grammar for their infant information, and disinterested instructors have thrown it almost gratuitously into their hands.108 Thus, by the autumn of 1791, radicalism had developed in a number of important ways. http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p046_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:08:52


Paine’s arguments for simple, republican democracy and the abolition of all hereditary institutions had permeated through Ireland in an unprecedented manner. Tone had provided powerful arguments to his fellow Protestants to accept Catholics as citizens, and in doing so had cast serious doubt on the possibility of liberty while the British connection remained. French formulations of republicanism had begun to infiltrate Irish thought, and (importantly) they were perceived to have done so by advocates of Protestant Ascendancy. These developments placed a whole series of contentious issues on the Irish political agenda: parliamentary reform to widen the franchise, genuine independence from British parliamentary and ministerial control, and most significantly, religious equality. The next chapter will show how these issues were debated against the background of an increasingly radical French Revolution and demonstrate how Irish radicalism developed in the crucial period between 1791 and the outbreak of war with France in early 1793. end p.189


6 The Polarization and Fragmentation of Patriotism, 1791-1793 Stephen Small

This chapter examines the development of radical Patriotism and traces the ideological polarization of Irish politics from the formation of the United Irishmen in 1791 to the government reaction of 1793. The main argument is that while the French Revolution fractured the Patriot tradition, causing some of its adherents to develop its more radical possibilities, Irish radicalism nevertheless remained rooted within elements of this Patriotism. The victories on free trade and legislative independence had launched the radical movement, not the French Revolution, and in many respects it was in the 1780s, and not the 1790s, that the basic radical position took shape. Thus, when the French Revolution came, Ireland already had a hardened group of activists, in possession of a radical Patriot inheritance, who had cut their teeth a decade earlier. This is not to say that the inheritance was retained in whole or that new ideas were not adopted. Patriot ideas were abandoned or transformed by Irish radicals when they were seen as unsuitable for Ireland, and tracing these ideological innovations is a key purpose of the final chapters. But Patriot languages did continue to influence Irish radicals and republicans into the late 1790s, and this chapter will give full weight to the continuities in radical thought. The French Revolution, of course, informed this thought in a variety of ways. It provided ideological stimuli to radicals and republicans; it formed an epic and continuing experiment in government against which political theories could be assessed; and when not the main focus of debate, it lurked in the background, an object of admiration, confusion, or fear to politically-minded Irishmen. Its emotional and psychological effects were probably most important. The French Revolution unleashed a wide array of violent responses in Ireland, ranging from intense insecurity



to millenarian optimism. It was these that inspired both the increased radical activity and the severe internal repression, which together led to a rapid and deep division within the broad Patriot tradition. end p.190




Small, Stephen


I . UNITED IRISH AND CATHOLIC RADICALISM, 1791-1793 As a result of the developments described in the previous chapter, the political landscape underwent important changes in 1791. A vigorous body of middle-class Catholic reformers had taken over the previously subservient Catholic Committee and, aided by Tone’s Argument on Behalf of the Catholics of Ireland, had placed the Catholic question firmly in centre stage. Furthermore, the newly founded United Irish societies in Belfast and Dublin were rapidly carving out a more radical political space that was threatening to undermine the Whigs’ popular support. These two developments were intimately connected, and the two groups shared many of the same aspirations and personnel. As well as Tone’s involvement in both bodies (he became Assistant Secretary to the Catholic Committee in July 1792), prominent radicals on the Catholic Committee, such as Richard McCormick, Edward Lewins, and John Keogh, were also Dublin United Irishmen.1 The Belfast Society was more exclusively Protestant (and predominantly Presbyterian), but it was the northern radicals’ new-found pro-Catholic stance that made them dangerously radical in the government’s eyes. The strong link made between religious equality and parliamentary reform was the most radical ideological development of 1791-3. For this threatened to open up politics to ‘the people’ in a way that neither radical parliamentary reform within the Protestant nation, nor limited inclusion of a few wealthy Catholics could have done alone. Both these ideas had been around for some time, but significant support for a radical widening of the franchise which included Catholics on equal terms was completely new. It was so subversive of the Irish political structure as to put the radicals beyond the pale of traditional Whiggery and cause an irrevocable split in Patriotism. Yet this split took time to develop and was not instantly recognized, because, in many other respects, Irish radical thought had actually changed very little from the 1780s. Indeed, early United Irish thought can be seen primarily as a development of the Patriot and radical themes described in previous chapters. United Irishmen still sought to protect liberty and constrain corrupt executive power through active, virtuous citizenship and properly balanced government. They also sought commercial and agricultural improvement, and meaningful independence from British ministers (which did not entail separation from the crown). In these respects they were squarely in the Real Whig and classical republican traditions of Irish end p.191




Patriotism. But their support for the Catholics did lead to significant changes in their political language. While the goals of 1780s radical Patriotism were largely retained, the emphasis on religious unity and equality as the means to achieve these goals drove the United Irishmen outside the norms of respectable Patriotism and into uncharted territory. Furthermore, as the influence of both Paine and the French Revolution increased in Irish minds during 1791 and 1792, they undermined the unique prestige of ‘English’ political traditions. This example did not cause an immediate revolution in political beliefs or an abandonment of the English constitution as a model, but it did provide attractive alternative models that allowed more critical and creative responses to the ‘English’ constitution to be explored as the decade progressed. Initial United Irish statements relied heavily on the writing of Drennan and Tone, and the early declarations of the Belfast United Irishmen used the same basic argument as Tone’s Argument on Behalf of the Catholics.2 Thus, the basic prescription, except for the emphasis on religious unity, was hardly new. The underlying argument was still about balancing the constitution and the ultimate goal was the preservation of liberty and commerce. Corruption, for example, remained central to their rhetoric, some of which was really quite old-fashioned. A pamphleteer obviously close to the United Irishmen gave the following detailed analysis of corruption in Ireland. Despite the familiar ring, it is worth quoting as a typical radical statement of Irish power relationships. We are ruled by an insolent system of aristocratic corruption, which conveys all power into the hands of a despicable oligarchy.—Power in Ireland, flows from the rotten proprietors of rotten boroughs who, corrupted by public money, by places, by pensions, by titles and by promises, acquiesce with ‘Englishmen, and the servants of Englishmen,’ in forming statutes to keep the body of the people in awe, and to support themselves by promoting a continual encrease of Revenue. Free as our English rulers pretend we are, it is merely the affectation of liberty.... The vile substitute of undue influence, gross corruption, has been introduced by these men, and pervades every department of the state. In the Senate it negatives the natural effects of deliberation, in those who ridiculously call themselves the Representatives of the People.-On the Bench, we have often seen it biassing the determination of judicial authority-in cities and corporations controlling the activity and impartiality of the magistrate.3 This corruption, it was thought, even affected Irish commercial life. After bemoaning the fact that ‘the great majority of that House [the Irish end p.192




Commons] consider themselves as the representatives of their own money, or the hired servants of the English government’, the inaugural declaration of the radical Catholic Society asserted that the English minister in Ireland was ‘appointed for the sole purpose of dealing out corruption to them-at the expence of Irish liberty, Irish commerce, and Irish improvement’.4 These references to commerce and improvement show the continuing importance of a theme central to Patriotism throughout the eighteenth century. Indeed, the desire for Catholic political inclusion derived partly from this concern. A major factor in the United Irishmen’s espousal of the Catholic cause was, undoubtedly, their indignation at the sheer economic waste they perceived among a seemingly ignorant and indolent peasantry. These economic and political aspects of Catholic emancipation became so closely tied in the radical mentalité as to become almost identical. ‘It is the principle of that Society [i.e. The United Irishmen] that every individual in the kingdom should be interested in its prosperity,’ argued Paddy Whack. ‘This Society, I say, has for its object the bringing in to political life and political action, near four millions of persons, who have been dead to society-but above all—that of Uniting the IRISH into a People! a great, a powerful PEOPLE, with one common interest, one common cause—the NATIONAL PROSPERITY.’5 Hence, in 1791 and 1792 the United Irishmen were still firmly attached to commercial, classical republican and Real Whig goals, but they were increasingly willing to contemplate more adventurous means of attaining them and more adventurous explanations of the Irish predicament. The analysis may have differed little from earlier Patriot critiques, but the solution drew on less familiar ideas. To stem the corruption, Paddy Whack argued, a union of every religious persuasion was now needed, as ‘that party in the country called the Protestant Interest is inadequate’.6 And just as they were willing to look beyond their inherited categories of political discourse in their attitude to Catholics, so they slowly began to look beyond English political traditions in other areas. France, for example, could now serve as an alternative model. In the two years before the formation of the United Irishmen, France had formed National and Constituent Assemblies, abolished feudal privileges, declared the rights of man and the citizen, brought the Catholic Church and its property under the regulation of the state, and created a constitutional end p.193


monarchy. This spectacle of rapid and profound constitutional change was both unprecedented and hugely impressive to Irish radicals frustrated by nearly a decade of ineffective campaigning for reform. It led the United Irishmen to see their cause as part of a wider European crusade and their era as one uniquely favourable for reform. These two related assumptions, which also pick up on the cosmopolitanism of Price and Paine, had significant consequences for their ideology. It was an era, they thought,



when unjust governments are falling in every corner of Europe—when religious persecution is compelled to abjure her tyranny over Conscience-when the Rights of Man are ascertained in theory, and that theory substantiated by practice—when antiquity can no longer defend absurd and oppressive forms against the common sense and common interest of Mankind-when all Government is acknowledged to originate from THE PEOPLE, and to be so far only obligatory as it protects their rights and promotes their welfare.7 They believed this era would institute religious equality, the rights of man, popular sovereignty, and rational, minimal, common sense politics across European civilization. This pan-European internationalism entailed a significant shift in the language of Patriotism. For although this had a classical element, and occasionally an international element which looked to America and European ‘republics’ in Holland, Poland, and Venice, Irish Patriotism was rooted in a very ‘English’ political tradition. In professing internationalism, the United Irishmen were expressing admiration of France as well as America and acknowledging a debt to the cosmopolitan Paine as well as to seventeenthcentury English Whig heroes such as Hampden, Russell, Sidney, and Milton. Whereas 1780s Patriotism could assume modern political liberty to be the almost exclusive preserve of Protestant, English-speaking communities, the French Revolution made such attitudes appear ludicrously parochial to the United Irishmen. A Painite scepticism about the constitution itself began to infuse some of their language. As Drennan remarked contemptuously to his regular correspondent Samuel McTier, ‘I really imagine Britain and Ireland think themselves in some better situation than America was-how absurd!’8 The era’s uniqueness also undermined the prestige of the ‘British’ constitution by challenging Patriot views of history. On one level, events in France were compatible with the cyclical views of history espoused by end p.194


earlier Patriots. After the reactionary period between 1786 and 1789, the wheel of fortune could be seen to have turned full circle once again to usher in a suitable moment for virtue to assert itself and renew the constitution. But the French Revolution and this ‘present great aera of Reform’ were also seen by some as an entirely new political phenomenon which entailed the abandonment of a cyclical view of history in favour of a purely progressive one. Thus, when the United Irishmen turned to the lessons for Ireland of this unique period of reform, their proposals often signified a radical break with the past rather than a renovation of an ancient constitution. In thus associating, we have thought little about our ancestors-much of our posterity. Are we forever to walk like beasts of prey, over the fields which these ancestors stained with blood? In looking back, we see nothing on the one part but http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p047_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:09:14


savage force succeed by savage policy; on the other, an unfortunate nation.... But we gladly look forward to brighter prospects-to a people united in a fellowship of freedom-to a parliament the express image of the people-to a prosperity established on civil, political, and religious Liberty.9 This declaration, penned by Drennan,10 was a move towards rejection of the ancient constitutionalism that characterized so much previous Patriot and radical thought. The essentially ‘English’ nature of the Irish constitution had made a few Patriots uneasy, including Drennan, a decade earlier, and it had never been as straightforward to espouse ancient constitutionalism in Ireland as it was in England. Of course the United Irishmen’s desire to incorporate the Catholics made a forward-looking philosophy that did not refer back to the Glorious Revolution and the restoration of an imposed constitution the most logical option. It also implied a dilution of the imperial ‘British’ identity which contributed to the mentalité of earlier Patriots. But such a radical and critical reinterpretation of the Protestant role in Ireland was quite novel at a time when the vast majority of Protestants still held the British constitution in high esteem. Also new is the uninhibited tenor of this address. It is as radical as its content and shows a genuine desire to forget old animosities. It is strikingly different from the carefully concealed reservations about Catholic participation shown by Haliday in the previous chapter. Furthermore, it is explicitly populist. The United Irishmen were (rhetorically speaking) throwing open the gates of the political nation for the first time. The stated object of their institution was ‘to make an United Society of the Irish nation, to make end p.195




Small, Stephen


all Irishmen-Citizens;-all Citizens-Irishmen’. They felt ‘the necessity of giving political value and station to the great majority of the people’.11 Admittedly they had a confused conception of what this rhetoric of popular sovereignty might entail, and later, internal debates on the franchise only narrowly came down in favour of universal male suffrage. Indeed they were not quite the cutting edge of Irish radicalism at this time, as the shadowy Irish Jacobins of Belfast were already calling for an extension of the elective franchise to all Irish citizens.12 But the United Irishmen were beginning to challenge the ideal of the independent, landed classical republican that lay at the heart of Real Whiggism. Political virtue, they suggested, could be held by a much wider group, even if many United Irishmen were not yet quite sure how wide this group should be. Drennan’s progressive iconoclasm begins to distance United Irish thought from both an earlier Patriotism which saw reform as renovation, as well as the rigid constitutionalism contained in the Declaration of the Northern Whigs.13 But the degree to which the United Irishmen rejected ancient constitutionalism or flirted with Painite popular sovereignty should not, at this stage, be overestimated. Most Irishmen, including many radicals, were unwilling to reject their constitutional history so readily. Irish radicalism in 1791 and 1792 displayed a wide range of new and traditional rhetoric. New ideas overlapped with old, and, as in Britain during this period, the ideology of reform in Ireland was fragmented in a number of ways.14 In terms of practical solutions to Irish constitutional deficiencies, radicals rarely saw popular sovereignty as the sole basis of political power. It would merely underpin the popular part of the constitution, namely the Commons, which would then perform its vital function in balancing the mixed constitution. Paine’s influence only went so far, and early United Irish views were often closer to Price’s cosmopolitan Patriotism than Paine’s republican democracy.15 Monarchy and aristocracy, as institutions, were not generally questioned until later in the decade. Indeed, in the Argument on Behalf of the Catholics of Ireland, Tone extravagantly declared his allegiance to George III, stating that ‘if occasion should require it, I would be ready chearfully to spill my blood in his service’.16 As we shall see later, his opinion of George III had end p.196


changed by 1796, but the conversion to Painite, anti-monarchical republicanism was http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p048_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:09:55


not an easy one for many radicals. Paddy Whack was obviously making an allusion to Paine when he declared that ‘Dermot O’Murrough ... like many other monarchs was a rascal’.17 But he asserted that Ireland’s grievances ‘are not to be imputed to English kings, but to the turpitude of their English deputies’. It was corrupted Englishmen in conjunction with corrupted Irishmen that were to blame, and even ‘O’Murrough’ had his uses. His actions inadvertently introduced Ireland to those ‘wholesome laws’ and ‘customs of old England’ which Paddy Whack thought a ‘noble and venerable constitution’.18 Indeed many United Irishmen, including Tone, retained a traditional deference for monarchy and aristocracy—especially when their authority was exercised for the public good. This residual elitism never entirely left United Irish thought and was constantly in tension with their emerging views of popular sovereignty. On one level it reflects the elite, professional, and mercantile class basis of the leaders.19 But it was also founded on the importance of independence and virtue, and it testifies to a continuing belief in the classical republican idea that a people must be capable and deserving of liberty in order to achieve it. If achieving liberty was an arduous and demanding task requiring perseverance, then it is hardly surprising that not everyone was up to it. William Todd Jones, a founder member of the United Irishman and long-standing advocate of the Catholic cause, took a different approach to the constitution and Irish history from Drennan. Rather than turn his back on Irish history, Jones had no qualms about raking through its most contentious moments to prove the virtue, courage, and loyalty of Catholics. The bulk of his long Letter to the Societies of United Irishmen of the Town of Belfast (1792) is of a historical nature but is no less radical for that. Central to his argument is a rehabilitation of the largely Catholic 1689 Irish parliament of James II. For a Protestant, this was revisionism of a quite startling kind. James’s parliament was portrayed as a model of Patriotism which could put subsequent Protestant parliaments to shame. With independent policies on trade, Irish legislative rights, schooling for navigation and mathematics, and recognition of equal political and civil rights for all denominations, it was the very model of a modern Patriot parliament. There was little sign of a rejection of ancient constitutionalism here, merely end p.197


an attempt to claim the constitution for the radicals. Neither is there any evidence of his abandoning British constitutional traditions in favour of the French example. ‘I do not contemplate the late French Revolution as any model for British or Irish imitation’, he declared, although he did regard it as ‘an abstract object of our applause’. Indeed Jones argued that this constitution had ‘conducted Great-Britain to an extent of general human happiness, totally unexperienced by ancient Republicks’, and he wanted to ‘push our Constitution to the extremity of perfection of which it is capable’.20 The model of constitutional perfection he had in mind was an intriguing mixture of



republicanism and constitutional orthodoxy. He claimed to have no complaint against the sovereign and hoped that the British constitution would always preserve its monarchical form, partly because he valued it as an executive for its speed of decision. He cited ‘an unconstitutional aristocratic influence’ in the ‘people’s House of Parliament’ as one of the two main grievances (the other being ‘Protestant monopoly’), but nobility inspired virtue and so it too had its rightful place in the constitution. His goal, therefore, was a ‘comprehensive and unequivocal representation of the people’ to ‘afford every advantage which a REPUBLIC could hold out, while the two superior orders will happily shield us from its excesses’. Thus, a commitment to a fairly conventional mixed constitution was clear, and Jones’s quote from Junius carefully qualifies the republican element. ‘I would have the manners of the people strictly republican—I do not mean, the licentious spirit of anarchy and riot: I mean a general attachment to the common weal, distinct from any partial attachment to persons or families- an implicit submission to the laws only, and an affection to the magistrate, proportioned to the integrity and wisdom with which he administers their affairs.’ But his rejection of Painite republican democracy for Ireland had as much to do with practical objections as theoretical ones. Republicanism was ‘a preferable form of government’ for Jones, but ‘it would be found un-suited to the genius and the inveterate habits of Great-Britain and Ireland ... the PEOPLE of themselves would not relish it’.21 Jones also launched a scathing critique of Protestant bigotry, accusing it of corrupting both the constitution and the Catholics and warning his fellow Protestants about the logical implication of their Ascendancy over the Catholics. ‘If our dominion be founded only in our strength, it can subsist no longer than their weakness.’ His readers were ominously warned, end p.198


‘those whom we uselessly, bigottedly, blindly, and insolently, have diminished to vassalage, and have determined that they shall be continued in it, cannot always wish well to the freedom of their oppressors!!!’ Jones admitted that present-day treatment of the Catholic by the Protestant had softened, but, he argued, ‘however mildly his despotic powers be administered, the servile state of the Catholic is not less that of a despotism’. Catholics still had to endure legislation, as well as the taxation of their property, by a parliament in which they had no representatives. This was slavery plain and simple for Jones, for ‘if a number of persons can be deprived of their lives, or their property by any other body of people, such persons are enslaved; and whether it be by a nation, or a monarch, is immaterial, the masters are only different, but the government is equally despotic’.22 Many Catholics agreed, and Catholic opinion became much more publicly militant towards the end of 1791. The Catholic Committee, which had begun to meet more frequently in that year, abandoned the deferential tactics employed since its inception in 1760 as Catholic merchants and professionals gained the upper hand from the gentry http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p048_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:09:55


and the clerics. They secured the services of Edmund Burke’s son Richard to spearhead a campaign for the franchise, and in November 1791, the more assertive elements in the committee, such as John Keogh, Richard McCormick, Edward Byrne, and Theobald McKenna formed the Catholic Society. The Society issued a strong declaration in favour of Catholic rights which poured scorn on the hypocrisy of Irish liberty as embodied in legislative independence. Its author, McKenna, argued that this had been a calamity which subjected the Catholics to the tyranny of the Irish Protestants without the protection of British government. Using colourful imagery designed to prick the conscience of liberty-loving Patriots, he declared that Irish Catholics ‘may look with envy to the subjects of an arbitrary monarch, and contrast that government, in which one great tyrant ravages the Land, with the thousand inferior despots, whom at every instant they must encounter’. A bullish McKenna called for ‘an investigation of our principles and conduct’, and taking Protestant Patriot concerns head on, he declared in Real Whig fashion that ‘we feel not in ourselves ... a deficiency of manly spirit, of capacity or virtue, which ought to assign to the Irish ROMAN CATHOLIC an inferior rank among the creatures of our common father.—If we have a crime it is to have slept over our chains.’23 Such rhetoric brought the Society into open conflict with both Catholic grandees such as Lord Kenmare and the end p.199


advocates of Protestant Ascendancy. This caused a split in the committee and the eventual expulsion of Kenmare’s faction. As a result, the balance of power shifted to the more radical members, who had strong links with the United Irishmen. Thus, the cause of Catholic emancipation and radical parliamentary reform became closely entwined during 1791. Indeed it can be seen as the defining feature of radicalism in the early 1790s, but scepticism about the abilities of Catholics can still be seen within radicalism. Patrick Driscoll, for example, had a much more negative view of past Catholic behaviour than Jones and thought Catholics a timid, unsatisfactory lot on the whole. Their gentry and clergy, with few exceptions, were a ‘torpid body’ who contributed little to the common stock of culture and learning, and the peasantry was ‘rather intemperate, indolent, ignorant, dispirited, [and] quite divested of that modest pride which is observable in other countries’. The ‘Wild Irish’ label was a misnomer, Driscoll suggested, as the Catholics were now ‘the tamest of God’s creatures’.24 Yet Driscoll still sought ‘to persuade the timid Catholics of Ireland that are men, that they too have rights which ages of oppression could not annihilate’.25 And despite his distaste for Catholics, Driscoll charitably observed, ‘though Paddy be simple, he is no fool’. He called on them to ‘rise then, innocent and injured people, burst your shackles’. Such language was radical to the point of revolutionary, and an indication of its contemporary reception is given by an anonymous hand written note on the pamphlet, which declared it ‘a Most Inflamatory Production’.26 This combination of radicalism and lingering anti-Catholic prejudice contrasts with Jones’s sensibility but is probably much http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p048_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:09:55


nearer to the private thoughts of most Protestant United Irishmen. A further example of the differences possible within the emerging body of radical opinion is Driscoll’s pronounced republican tendencies. Not surprisingly, Driscoll does not actually call for the abolition of the monarchy, but he does repeat the old biblical argument that God only gave his people kings in a moment of wrath.27 If no divine commission can be shown, he argues, ‘these demigods [i.e. kings] ... should not be offended if they are asked this modest question— Who sent you? If God, it must have been in his wrath; nor can we imagine, that either he or we are much pleased with the end p.200




Small, Stephen


instrument.’ Driscoll rather unconvincingly absolves the current monarch from such questioning because he does not claim his throne by divine right, but this leaves George III’s authority on rather shaky ground. In Driscoll’s mind, the people are sovereign because ‘the voice of the people is the voice of God’. This somewhat blasphemous formulation of popular sovereignty means that allegiance to any king is only valid because he is ‘the grand depositary and organ of their power’.28 Driscoll’s thought is slightly idiosyncratic, but it represents two important themes in the eclectic Irish radicalism of the early 1790s: Painite republicanism and biblical inspiration. especially in Ulster. As McBride has shown, New Light ministers like Samuel Barber and William Steele Dickson drew on Calvinist theology and biblical passages to inspire their radicalism. This typically extended traditional Presbyterian concerns such as freedom of conscience and antipathy to state churches into a general right to religious equality and a broad assault on the current civil establishment. In somewhat different vein, the covenanting tradition fuelled popular Ulster radicalism. Deeply suspicious of deist and Erastian reformers, and ultimately focused on a civil constitution that would advance the glory of God, Irish Covenanters were often fellow travellers with republicans on the road, as they saw it, to the City of God.29 Thus, Irish radicalism contained some strange bedfellows from right across the religious spectrum: Anglicans, Catholics, Deists, and Dissenters of many different predilections contributed to its development. One thing which most could agree on, including Jones and Driscoll, was their connection to the Whig tradition, despite their increasing alienation from the parliamentary Whigs. For Driscoll the main political cleavage in Ireland was now between the ‘Whigs’ and the ‘Burkists’. The latter stood for despotism, slavery, prerogative, and the unnatural jumble of church and state, while the Whigs were ‘a race of high-spirited men, deep, firm, and persevering’ who stood for justice and freedom. Driscoll recognized that historical connections between Whiggism and zealous Protestantism could be disconcerting to Catholics, but he assured them, ‘be not offended at the arbitrary name; a Whig is no longer a covenanter against your lives and religion. Cant and hypocrisy he despises as sincerely as you do. Knox’s trumpet is no longer grateful to the ear; his music is harmony, peace, and equal rights to man.30 This was wishful thinking, as the acrid debates on end p.201


Catholic relief would show a few months later, but Driscoll was nevertheless staking a http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p049_print.html（第 1／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:17


claim for a new kind of Whiggism based on sound Whig principles but updated for more enlightened times.

II . PATRIOT SCHISM In reality, rather than updating Irish Whiggism, radicals placed it under such severe stress that, ideologically speaking, it began to disintegrate. One example of this is the difficulty parliamentary Patriots, such as Henry Grattan, John Forbes, and Denis Browne, had in maintaining a coherent line during the debates over the Catholic relief bills of 1792 and 1793. Most striking is the fate of the 1792 Catholic petition asking for the franchise. The Commons refused even to accept the petition by the overwhelming majority of 208 to 23. Such an insulting rejection of a serious petition was highly unusual and shows the very narrow limits of tolerance of both the supporters of government andmost Irish Whigs. The 1792 Catholic relief bill itself eventually passed. This allowed Catholic entry to the bar and intermarriage with Protestants, as well as removing restrictions on Catholic education and apprenticeships. But the bitterness of the exchanges over the Catholic petition negated the bill’s conciliatory intent by revealing the depth of anti-Catholicism in parliament. A number of Irish Whigs gave passionate and, at times, eloquent support for the Catholic cause, but their attempt to be both advocate of Catholic rights and guardian of Protestant Ascendancy entailed increasingly tortuous and unconvincing formulations of their political ideals. In the heat of these exchanges, Patriots made unconvincing attempts to square the circle of Protestant Ascendancy and increased Catholic political rights. Forbes declared that ‘a farther extension of privilege or an admission of the Roman Catholics to a reasonable and moderate participation in the elective franchise, could be effected without endangering the Protestant Ascendancy, which I shall ever most zealously maintain’.31 Perhaps so, but most MPs saw them as mutually exclusive. Denis Browne argued implausibly that after many conversations with Catholics ‘not one had ever objected to the principle of Protestant ascendancy’, and he assured his fellow MPs that he would not vote for a bill which would undermine it.32 Even Grattan, under pressure from his constituents in the Corporation of Dublin, had to tread a fine balance between support for moderate relief and support for Protestant Ascendancy.33 Jones saw no more than sophistry and hypocrisy in this kind of Whiggism, end p.202


even if it advocated moderate Catholic relief, because he thought Whig principles, justly applied, would lead to unqualified support of Catholic emancipation. When Whigs deny Catholics full political liberties ‘they forsake their own strongest mainstay’, he argued, and when they begin to split hairs, and cavil in casuistry, because justice extends their own doctrine to their Catholic fellow subjects, every disinterested man will revolt from http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p049_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:17


the sophistry, and will exclaim in well-founded indignation, like Macbeth to the midnight magician assembly, Be these speeching men no more believ’d, Who palter with us in a double sense! Who keep the word of promise to our ear, but break it to our hope-.34 The observations of Jones and Driscoll were, in their own very different ways, nothing less than a struggle for the heart of the Whig and Patriot traditions. When the National Evening Star serialized Jones’s response to the criticism of ‘Portia’, its editor, William Paulet Carey, captured this struggle by introducing Jones as the honourable debunker of hypocritical anti-Catholic Patriots and Whigs since the 1780s. ‘The manly, the liberal, the philosophic JONES recognized the fallen, persecuted Catholic as his brother, he compassionated his misfortunes, and boldly asserting our right of suffrage, put the little Patriots of the day to the blush, while he called on the affected friends of reform to prove their sincerity by adopting three millions of their alienated countrymen.’35 Jones saw the reason for this deviation from ‘true’ Whiggery in the perverting effects of persecuting religious bigotry from former times. In his reply to Portia, he shows how this bigotry could even affect the great Whig heroes—including James Harrington. The author of Oceana, and the Oracle of Liberty, FORGOT THE PHILOSOPHY OF HIS CHARACTER, THE RESPECT DUE TO A PEER, AND REVERENCE TO THE CONSTITUTION, AND SAT UPON A JURY WHICH WAS TO MURDER AN IRISH BARON. What blinded the great Harrington to commit this violation of law? It was RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE; the PROTESTANT SPIRIT of PERSECUTION of the times.36 This struggle for the Whig and Patriot inheritance involved a struggle over the meaning of key political terms, and this was recognized by both end p.203


sides. One pro-Ascendancy pamphleteer (who signed his work ‘A Member of the Established Church’) sarcastically observed that’ liberality in our new nomenclature has changed its nature with its meaning’. The word now operated ‘as a general charm’ and was simply a code for caving in to the Catholics. And whereas Jones thought Whig principles led logically to Catholic emancipation, this writer thought such alignments an aberration. ‘In Ireland every Papist is a Whig, and every Whig a Papist; a monster in politics for which there is no name, as I am sure there is no precedent.’ With remarkable prescience, he predicted that ‘this popular delirium cannot last much longer; the disorder will subside, and settle into reason, especially after it shall have let out a little of its enflamed blood. The death of the Whig-club will follow.... Out of the ashes will be born that political Phoenix, an UNION.’37 Of course the assertion that all http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p049_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:17


Whigs supported the Catholics, and vice versa, was inaccurate (and this writer was hardly sympathetic to such a development in any case) but the point is well made that such alliances were still seen as contrary to the nature of both Whig-gism and Catholicism by many Irishmen. Perhaps the best evidence for this growing schism in interpretations of the Whig and Patriot traditions is the activity of the city Patriots in the Dublin Corporation during 1792.38 In 1789-90 this body was at the forefront of Patriot opposition to the Castle and had acted in loose alliance with the Whig Club in its disputes over the Dublin police and the selection of the mayor. But their reaction to the Catholic resurgence during 1792 was to reassert vigorously the doctrine of Protestant Ascendancy. The Corporation Patriots declared that ‘experience has taught us that without the ruin of the Protestant establishment, the Catholic cannot be allowed the smallest influence in the state’. The question of whether Ireland should become ‘a Popish kingdom, governed by an arbitrary and unconstitutional Popish Tyrant’ or have ‘a free Protestant government’ had been decided 100 years ago on ‘an appeal to Heaven’. ‘The great ruler of all things decided in favour of our ancestors,’ they argued, ‘and Ireland became a Protestant nation enjoying a British Constitution.’ The Catholics should have been grateful that in recent times ‘everything consistent with Protestant safety was con-ceeded’, but instead Protestant ears ‘have been dinned with exclamations of discontent, the ravings of political clubs, and the declamations of state reformers’. Catholics were advised to be satisfied with toleration and civil end p.204


liberty and warned against interfering in the Protestant Ascendancy, which the Corporation had resolved to maintain ‘with our Lives and Fortunes’. The following definition left the Catholics in no doubt as to the nature of this Ascendancy: A PROTESTANT KING OF IRELAND, A PROTESTANT PARLIAMENT, A PROTESTANT HIERARCHY, PROTESTANT ELECTORS AND GOVERNMENT, THE BENCHES OF JUSTICE, THE ARMY AND THE REVENUE, Through all their Branches and Details, PROTESTANT; And this system supported by a Connection with the PROTESTANT REALM OF BRITAIN.39 The schism in the broad Whig-Patriot discourse outlined above did not cause an immediate cessation of contact between Whigs and radicals. Initially some United Irishmen continued to frequent the Whig clubs. But by August 1792, only one United Irishman would visit the Northern Whig Club in Belfast.40 A comparison of the rhetoric of the United Irishmen (despite their internal differences), with the aims of this club shows why.41 Their positions on the Catholic question and the basis of political sovereignty were fundamentally incompatible. Thus Charlemont’s distaste for the vigorous language of the United Irishmen is entirely predictable. He became deeply http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p049_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:17


worried about how easily some Belfast Protestants had been won over to the Catholic cause and wrote to Haliday, ‘It would, in my opinion, require a century at least of the best education before our semi-barbarians could be brought to assimilate with their fellow subjects, before they could possibly provide themselves with the bare freeholds of civilization.’42 His use of the curious phrase ‘freeholds of civilization’ suggests that, in addition to his violent anti-Catholicism, his ideas on citizenship were still fundamentally tied to landed property. The United Irishmen were moving in the opposite direction. As we have seen, they wanted ‘an impartial and adequate representation of the Irish Nation in Parliament’ based on ‘a brotherhood of affection, an identity of interests, a communion of rights, and an union of power among Irishmen of all religious persuasions’.43 The result of such discrepancies was a profound and irrevocable split in Irish Whiggery and Patriotism. end p.205




Small, Stephen


The Catholic Committee helped to widen this split by their robust response to both parliament and the Dublin Corporation. During the summer of 1792, they began to mobilize Catholics throughout Ireland to send delegates to a national Catholic Convention. These were chosen by indirect popular election, and the response was impressive. The Catholic Convention, which to the Castle looked alarmingly like a National Assembly, met in Dublin during December 1792 amid an atmosphere of international crisis and intense reform activity throughout the British Isles. (It roughly coincided with the first General Convention in Edinburgh, Pitt’s calling out of the militia in Britain, the second proclamation against seditious writings, and the prosecution of Paine.)44 Irritated by the arrogance of the Castle, the Convention sent a delegation appealing for Catholic emancipation directly to George III, completely bypassing the Irish administration and parliament. The petition was carried to Britain via Belfast, affording the Catholic representatives and the northern radicals an opportunity to demonstrate publicly their solidarity. Even more importantly, it was presented to the king on 2 January 1793, just as war was looming with France. Within a month of the petition’s submission, Louis XVI had been executed and the French had declared war on Britain. These developments fundamentally altered Irish political circumstances and the context of political rhetoric. The optimism so prevalent among radicals in 1791 and 1792 was soon to be shattered.

III . WAR, REFORM, AND REACTION In an attempt to head off the strengthening alliance between radicals and Catholics, and conscious of the need to keep Catholics loyal during the coming conflict with France, Pitt and Dundas instructed the Irish executive to push through a comprehensive Catholic relief bill in the face of considerable Ascendancy opposition. Most Irish MPs, while furious at being coerced by Britain, also recognized the need to placate the Catholics, and by early April 1793 they had reluctantly passed a considerable package of relief which saw most of the remaining Catholic disabilities removed.45 Catholics were given the vote on the same terms as Protestants in county end p.206




and (theoretically) in borough elections. They were given access to government and military office below the very highest positions. They had the right to sit on grand and petty juries, and they could take degrees at Trinity College. Catholics satisfying a property qualification were also allowed to bear arms. Full emancipation was not achieved, however. Irish Catholics still could not sit in parliament, nor could they become judges or generals. But they were formally in a much better position than their British coreligionists, and the move was rightly seen as a major concession by the Ascendancy. Somewhat bizarrely, government supporters in the Irish Commons were so disgruntled by their coercion at the hands of British ministers, that they also supported a number of Whiggish reforms which would have undoubtedly failed a year earlier. Traditional enemies combined to secure the passage of Place, Pension, and Libel Acts.46 This busy session also saw a minor concession to the poor in the exemption of the smallest dwellings from the hearth tax.47 A complex set of motives were involved in the passage of these reforms and different MPs acted for different reasons. Some sought to embarrass and punish British ministers by diminishing their control of the Irish parliament. Some supported the measures in a vain attempt to obstruct the Catholic relief bill in a flurry of other business. Many were motivated by both these impulses. In this volatile atmosphere, a moderate measure of parliamentary reform was even discussed, although eventually defeated. Thus, the session of 1793 could be seen as a step forward for Catholic, Patriot, and radical causes, and if its measures had come earlier, it would have been regarded as such. The Place Act, in particular, by putting restrictions on placeholders and pensioners sitting in parliament (new placeholders needed to seek re-election and holders of pensions for limited periods, or at the pleasure of the government, could not sit at all) partly satisfied the old ‘Country’ desire to limit executive control of MPs. But the manner in which these bills were passed and the accompanying repressive legislation presented a different picture. Many middle-class and landed Catholics were, indeed, satisfied with these improvements in their position, but the lack of representation and the ill will that once again attended debates led more radical Catholics to view it as little better than a snub. This reaction in itself shows how far their expectations had shifted over the course of 1792, for these concessions were significant and would have been end p.207


unthinkable at the start of that year.48 But by failing to satisfy the expectations of radical opinion, both Catholic and Protestant, while seeking to suppress its peaceable expression, the government ensured that radicals became embittered. Thus, the legislative outcome of these months was not the conciliatory one Pitt had hoped for— not least because the 1793 Catholic Relief Act had gone beyond the limit of the Protestant elite’s toleration. The Act required, therefore, accompanying repressive http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p050_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:34


measures to placate Ascendancy anger and to draw a firm line under any further Catholic claims. From this point onwards the governments of both Ireland and Britain were convinced that parliamentary reform or full Catholic emancipation would destabilize the constitution at a time of great stress. These reforms would, in their view, threaten the connection with Britain and effectively bring the present constitution in church and state to an end by surrendering it to an ill-educated Catholic peasantry. It was evident from their violent opposition to Catholic relief that most Irish MPs were ideologically opposed to the concession of any Catholic voting rights. Their acquiescence in 1793 was purely a result of British pressure and the dictates of prudence in the context of war, domestic unrest, and the violent turn taken by the French Revolution. The measure was effectively forced through the Irish parliament against its wishes at a moment of crisis. Reaction was the price to be exacted for this humiliation. A key early component of this reactionary response was the suppression of the Volunteers between December 1792 and March 1793. This potent ideological symbol had been vigorously revived by the United Irishmen in 1792, especially in Antrim, Down, and Dublin. In the process some corps admitted Catholics in large numbers. All of the old benefits of participation retained their appeal—honour, prestige, decoration, and sociability—and they were being used to attract men into an armed citizen militia controlled by the radicals. After the formation of provocatively named ‘National Guard’ Volunteer corps in both the north and Dublin, the parallel symbolism with France became too threatening for the government. Despite the limited support for the National Guard in Dublin, the quick suppression of this ‘new’ form of Volunteering was of paramount importance to the Castle. This was achieved by a proclamation from the viceroy on 8 December 1792, which was followed by a further proclamation on 11 March 1793 outlawing all Volunteer corps. This took place just two days after the army end p.208


had rioted in Belfast and attacked the homes and businesses of leading radicals. These proclamations were accompanied by a variety of other repressive measures in the early part of 1793. The Gunpowder Act restricted the importation, transportation, and carrying of arms and ammunition around the country.49 The Convention Act was designed to outlaw representative bodies or anti-parliaments (such as the Catholic Convention of the previous winter and the Ulster Reform Convention at Dungannon in February 1793).50 This brought a swift end to the plans that had been laid for a national reform convention later that year. And finally, the Militia bill51 was passed alongside the Catholic relief bill in April 1793. The new militia was designed to keep order and to suppress agrarian, especially Defender, unrest. But it also had the aim of reducing the number of recruits to the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p050_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:34


Volunteers, replacing them with a militia firmly under government control. Officered by Protestants, the militia consisted largely of Catholics in most areas because its rank and file members were chosen by ballot. It soon totalled 18,000 men, before growing further to 25,000 by 1795. Increasing use was made of the militia to back JPs in their attempts to control Defenderism, and it was extremely unpopular among the common people as units were usually stationed outside their own areas. Impressment caused serious rioting in itself, leading to an unusually severe Army suppression. Bartlett argues that this marked a significant shift away from the restraint and ‘moral economy’ of earlier episodes of agrarian unrest towards insurrection. Rioters fired on regular troops, which was almost unheard of, and around 230 people were killed in the summer of 1793- almost five times the death toll from agrarian unrest between 1760 and 1793.52 In addition to these measures, the Irish government gave its full backing to the war with France-which radicals saw as a waste of Irish lives and revenue, and as an unjust interference in the government of a nation struggling to secure its hard-won liberty in difficult circumstances. There was also very strong parliamentary support for the war among Irish parliamentary Patriots, many of whom also supported the repressive measures outlined above. The Convention Act, for example, was passed by a large majority which included Whigs and Patriots. This ‘desertion’ of the parliamentary Patriots from the cause of reform naturally alienated radicals and contributed to the process of polarization. end p.209


IV . THE RHETORIC OF REACTION The attacks on radicalism from 1793 onwards were not just legislative, but also theoretical and rhetorical.53 They encompassed an extremely wide range of opinion, from the ‘moderate’ views of former reformers disillusioned by events in France and Ireland, to the virulent assaults of staunch Ascendancy men. In fact some pamphlets are difficult to categorize as either reactionary, moderate, or reformist as they combined arguments for repression, conciliation, and reform in an attempt to halt the seemingly inexorable progress towards violent republican revolution. The final two sections of this chapter seek to give a flavour of the full range of these responses in order to understand the ideological context within which radical republicanism developed. Before examining this reaction, however, we should briefly note the absence of one possible loyalist response: there was no serious unionist dimension in late eighteenthcentury Irish political debate until after the rebellion of 1798.54 Loyalist rhetoric had a marked imperial and ‘British’ aspect, but there is very little that could be construed as unionist, in a legislative sense, in the pre-1798 debate. ‘An Impartial Observer’ feared http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p050_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:34


that ‘Ireland must drop of course from the Empire’ if the Catholics were driven into the arms of the United Irishmen,55 and the avoidance of this naturally required careful management of the Catholics and the radicals through the cooperation of the Castle and the British government. But all Protestant Irishmen were keen to hold onto the privileges they felt they had won in 1782, and union was eventually only made palatable by the panic aroused and the patronage distributed between 1798 and 1800. Indeed, it was partly because the United Irishmen were seen as a threat to the independence of the Protestant Ascendancy that they were such a target for conservative and loyalist invective. By attacking the link with Britain- the ultimate guarantee of Ascendancy power-and by encouraging popular participation in politics, the United Irishmen were challenging the end p.210




Small, Stephen


Ascendancy’s partial independence from Britain as well as their hold on Ireland. In response to this challenge, conservatives and loyalists embarked on a vigorous campaign to demonize the radicals and their supporters. Given the radicals’ sympathy for the French and their opposition to the war, one of the most effective ways of achieving this was through criticism of the French revolutionaries, whose faults could then either implicitly or explicitly be connected to Irish radicals. The increasingly extreme nature of French republicanism was emphasized and its sanguinary use of violence in pursuit of liberty ridiculed. William Preston, who had praised the Patriot cause in the early 1780s, conjured up a ghastly image of French republicanism in the aptly titled Democratic Rage by putting these words in the mouth of Marat. Let thousand gasping heads around me fall, And bite the dust; and thousand mangled trunks Around me spurt with blood: all crimson’d o’er, Let me to freedom march, o’er scattered limbs And free remain; altho’ I should remain The single living thing, amidst the wreck Of crumbled empires.-I’ll for freedom shout, Altho’ I stand in blood, ev’n to the lips.56 By juxtaposing liberty and bloodshed so closely, the ardent pursuit of liberty itself became stained. The cause of liberty could easily be translated into French fanaticism, and this fanaticism held up as the real enemy of civil society. Such zealotry went far beyond the proper Patriotic vigilance required to preserve rights, dissolving the bonds of law, custom, and deference which held society together. It was particularly dangerous when exhibited by the lower classes, who lacked the reason and self-control of their superiors. Demonization of the mob was not difficult given recent events in France, but this line of attack was one of the most damaging for the radical cause, for it directly challenged one of its central tenets-that the people as a whole deserved a greater say in government. This assault took a number of forms. The most obvious was to point to the violent, anarchic behaviour of the French sans-culottes. Preston conjured up a dark, drunken world of debauched democracy in which, Each suburb tavern, and each midnight haunt of vice and idleness, must vomit forth end p.211




Its dark divan of desp’rate democrates, Lawless themselves, to give their betters law, And sanction their decrees with pike and sabre.57 The Irish lower classes then came in for similarly severe criticism. Many loyalists were in no doubt that Irish sans-culottes were plotting their own revolution in Ireland, and those plebeians who presumed to engage in politics were viciously attacked in a number of pamphlets. The artisan class came in for special criticism. Anthony Dwyer’s lengthy poem lashed out at politically-active printers, tailors, cobblers, and painters, and his picture of porter-inspired pub politicians plotting revolution and the downfall of kings captures perfectly the contempt of the elite for the common man.58 The meanest wretch, who scarce can spell his name, Aspires by politics at vulgar fame, Now self-instructed, war’s whole art he knows, And routs whole armies, while the whisky flows, Or drawing inspiration from strong beer, Turns statesman next, and then an Engineer;... Nay more, he marches armies through the air To Rome, to Moscow, and to God knows where As if any more censure were needed, these would-be revolutionaries were criticized for the private consequences of their public transgressions. For Dywer, political activity by working men inevitably meant neglect of their natural duties and a descent into domestic difficulty. This type of man: models Republics in ecstatic dreams, And wakes insolvent ‘midst unripened schemes, Tho’ Duns and Bailiffs shou’d his door assail, His cares are only for the common weal, Engag’d in murdering or deposing Kings, His Wife and Children are unheeded things,59 This sneering, moralizing tone was very common and is well-expressed in the sarcastic title of a typical loyalist pamphlet called, An Humble Address to the Most High, Most Mighty, and Most Puissant. The Sovereign People end p.212




(1793). But such patrician disdain, while sometimes affecting amused superiority, was not the product of confidence. There was a deep and real fear of popular unrest. This fear of the mob was common among the late eighteenth-century European elite and not purely the product of anxious observation of France. The Gordon Riots of 1780 had shown just how destructive the lower classes in the British Isles could be. In Ireland, with its continuing agrarian unrest and the recent development of large-scale Defender agitation, the fear was especially acute.60 The combination of demagogue and the mob was most worrying to the propertied, who feared that an Irish Marat would ‘inflame the populace, and teach the crowd | To thirst for blood, and cry aloud for vengeance’.61 As the United Irishmen were fast emerging as the most likely candidates for the Marat role in this tragedy, they became the chief target of government repression. This reactionary impulse led to the trial for sedition and treason of a number of their leading members. William Drennan, Archibald Hamilton Rowan, Wolfe Tone, Napper Tandy, Leonard McNally, Simon Butler, and Oliver Bond, among others, were all caught up in government prosecutions for seditious libel or treason during 1793 and 1794. The accusations levelled at Rowan for his distribution of Drennan’s Letter to the Volunteers of Ireland at a public meeting in December 1792 provide a succinct summation of the Castle’s fears. Despite the fact that the pamphlet expressed ideas quite similar to Drennan’s early productions of the 1780s, Rowan was charged with: maliciously designing and intending to excite and diffuse among the subjects of the realm discontents, disaffection and disloyalty to the king and government, and to raise very dangerous sedition and tumults, and to draw the government into scandal, infamy and disgrace and to incite the subject to attempt, by force and with arms, to make alterations in the government, and to excite the subjects to anarchy, to overturn the constitution and overawe the legislature of the kingdom.62 To counter these radical influences, scaremongering doggerel became all the rage among loyalists. As we have seen, it reflected the increasingly emotional rather than intellectual level of political discourse in the 1790s. While often of poor literary quality and overlong, these verses were sometimes punchy and vivid. The striking contrast of a simple, almost jolly, rhythm with a shockingly barbarous content could occasionally illustrate radical end p.213


excesses more effectively than a tightly argued pamphlet. This spoof’translation’ of a poem by ‘Citizen Sansroi’ entitled The Triumph of Republicanism is typical of the genre. What happiness, as yet unheard of, springs From burning friars, and beheading kings;... In Jacobins what virtuous trumpet reigns, http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p051_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:55


When furious mobs beat out a Princess’ brains:63 This anti-mob rhetoric had much in common with British loyalist criticism, but the religious difference between the elite and the great mass of the people reinforced the fears of the propertied classes in Ireland: Britain at least had a Protestant mob. Dublin, which had a tradition of Protestant Patriot agitation stretching back at least as far as the riots of the 1750s and the activities of Charles Lucas, was still 30 to 40 per cent Protestant.64 But out in the country and the smaller towns, where the Defenders were rapidly taking on new recruits, the threat to property was a Catholic one. Thus, while some northern Dissenters had been converted to Catholic emancipation during 17923,65 for all Protestants the prospect of a Catholic peasant uprising was especially frightening. Violent social revolution, they worried, would lead to a reversal of the land settlement and the replacement of Protestantism with either atheism or Catholicism. With the stakes so high, polite analysis was increasingly irrelevant. By mid-1793 the battle lines were firmly drawn and caricature rather than characterization was the goal. Later in the 1790s poetic loyalist pens were put to work composing popular ditties for the lower classes (in itself a problematic admission of their transgression into the political arena)66 but in 1793-4 the mob was the subject not the audience—at least of loyalist writing. As the United Irishman Thomas Russell later commented: Great pains have been taken to prevent the mass of mankind from interfering in political pursuits; force and argument, and witt and ridicule, and invective, have been used by the governing party, and with such success, that any of the lower, or even middle rank of society who engage in politics, have been, and are, considered not only ridiculous, but in some degree culpable.67 end p.214


Russell’s observation could also be applied to many parliamentary Whigs. Despite the loose rhetoric about the power of the people, most Whigs and Patriots were deeply disturbed by the idea of a descent into genuine democracy (or as they saw it, mobrule). The Catholicism of the masses only reinforced this fear, widening the split that had already appeared among radicals and old-style Patriots. The fundamental objection to the mob (as we saw in Chapter 4) was its irrationality and ignorance. For ‘Junius Hibernicus’, it was evident that most were not suited to politics, for ‘it requires more than ordinary application to know the real difference between right and wrong in political disquisition’. The radical assertion of equality was, for him, simply ridiculous. Inequality in all other spheres of life was accepted as natural, so why should this not extend to moral sense and political wisdom? Was there ever any such thing upon earth as equality of persons? or that people different in knowledge... different in situation, should be all nevertheless under the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p051_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:10:55


one common title of Mr. without a note to distinguish the Cobbler from the FreeCitizen; the Shoe-boy from the Statesman; or the Scavanger from the man of professional knowledge and judgement? Certainly not—and it would not only be absurd but inconvenient if there was.68 This pamphlet can be seen as a direct assault on the Painite popularization of Irish politics. But Junius Hibernicus was not merely reasserting traditional social distinctions. He tacitly admitted Paine’s devastating functional arguments against hereditary privilege and turned them back on Paine. If cobblers, for example, should not be hereditary because such a craft requires aptitude and training, then statecraft should not be tackled by the like of cobblers for the same reason. His argument subtly conceded the point that a hereditary ruling elite might be unjustified, but reasserted the conservative creed that some sort of governing elite was still necessary and natural. Such rejection of the mob and popular politics did not, however, involve a rejection of the concept of liberty. This was such a powerful term that no politician could afford to abandon it to his opponents. Liberty, therefore, was appealed to by loyalists as well as radicals, but it was an ordered, well-regulated liberty that must be balanced with all the other advantages of civil society. For Theobald McKenna, the first privilege of society was ‘to enjoy the advantages of order. Liberty is valuable as it arises, not as it receeds from it.’69 Thus, liberty was not the only good to be protected by end p.215




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government, and in times of crisis more fundamental issues of survival and property were, at least temporarily, at stake. Ireland was in just such a crisis, according to Junius Hibernicus, and it was ‘time for every man, not biased by passions or corrupted by prejudice, to open his eyes and say, my property-my life-my family are in danger!Will I for the gratification of a vision,... destroy the harmony of a people-will I divide them that are united, and by a mistaken zeal insult, and trample upon that very freedom, which it is my pretensions to adopt and maintain?’70 In short, liberty was not the only or even the chief goal of a civilized society. It also needed to preserve property, stability, justice, and order. For the radical, the key choice was between liberty and slavery. For the loyalist, it was between anarchy and order. McKenna rejected passive obedience in the face of tyranny, but argued that in a cultivated and civilized society ‘the abuse must be enormous which can justify the overt act of interrupting order’.71 Such arguments were a typical line of attack among loyalists and moderates alike. These debates over liberty, slavery, and the circumstances in which a people should overturn the established order could hardly avoid discussion of Locke. Thomas Elrington’s rather conservative gloss on Locke’s theories on government was one of the more interesting attempts to constrain the growing influence of natural rights theories. Elrington, the Anglican bishop of Ferns, rightly saw that Paine had begun to claim Locke for the republicans by pushing his ideas on natural rights to their logical extreme. The radical implications of such a move were not lost on Elrington, who rightly saw it as the strongest card in the radical hand: not least because Locke was highly respected by Whigs of all descriptions. Elrington even went so far as to admit that ‘Locke’s manner of expressing himself has been such as to render it difficult to disencumber him of his modern associate’.72 Hence, in order to reconcile Locke to mainstream Whiggery, he tried to draw a number of distinctions to distance him from Paine. In Elrington’s interpretation, Locke had spoken of ‘being governed by laws made by the community at large; or by persons deputed by that community’. This led, rightly in Elrington’s view, to the conclusion that ‘the people therefore are the supreme lawmakers’: a principle enshrined in the English constitution which made it durable, prosperous, and less liable to oppression than any other. But Paine, in his view, had wrongly taken this end p.216



to justify universal suffrage and had extended Locke’s principles into the erroneous proposition, H hat whatever the majority of a nation have a mind to do, they have a right to do73 Elrington objected to this for two reasons. First, he did not accept that ‘the people’ included every person in the country. Secondly, he rejected unrestrained popular will on the grounds that there are limits on conduct imposed by natural law. Elrington effectively conceded the principle of ‘popular sovereignty’ while carefully constraining the meaning of’popular’ to refute the universal right to suffrage. In order to show the absurdity of a such a right, Elrington made a rare reference to the exclusion of women from politics, asserting: ‘were these reformers asked why they exclude women from these rights, they would probably find it difficult to give, on their own principles, an answer’. Obviously, for Elrington, any set of principles that might admit women to the political nation must be absurd.74 The heart of Elrington’s objection to Paine is, at root, the irrationality and unpredictability of the people, or ‘the fluctuating opinion of men’. Government cannot simply be a matter of majority will, because ‘it must appear evident that the wishes of the people may not in every instance be wise, perhaps not just’. As the lower classes are most likely to be uninformed and improperly influenced they are most likely to get moral and political judgements wrong. Hence they must be excluded from government. All this abstract theorizing conveniently returns Elrington to the comfortable conclusion that ‘the best constitution will be that in which every individual whose situation in life makes it probable that he will be a good judge of the interests of his country, has a share in the legislature’. This seems a rather vacuous and imprecise definition, but its meaning would have been crystal clear at the time. These good judges were the propertied Protestants of Ireland, who, by implication, were the most reliable arbiters of natural law and justice.75 The dictates of rationality and independence, so dear to classical republicans, had once again trumped the radical interpretation of natural rights. end p.217


A similar perspective was offered by the parliamentary Patriot, Sir Lawrence Parsons. The opening line of his Thoughts on Liberty and Equality leave little doubt as to the direction his argument: ‘The God of Nature delights in variety, and in nothing has he displayed it more than in the diversities of man.’ From this opening gambit, it is a short distance to his main assertion that a diversity of rights exist in civil society: ‘the rights of man are various in his various situations; even his political rights are various. And those men grossly err, and attempt what they can never accomplish, who would draw up a charter of imprescriptable, and unalienable rights of man, universally applying to, and embracing all.’ Like Elrington, Parsons recognized the need to rescue Locke from the radicals, but he focused on Locke’s view that the chief end of civil society is the preservation of property. For Parsons, it was evident that the different dispositions and faculties of men would lead to inequality of property. The Lockean right to our own labour justified the propertied man’s ‘superiority of situation over those who have been http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p052_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:11:26


less industrious or successful’, and as a result, civil society originates as a selfpreservation society for the industrious and ingenious. Given this interpretation of the social contract, Parsons’s conclusion that government should always ‘attach power to property’ follows naturally and is a necessary safeguard. For ‘the poor being always more numerous than the rich, they would level all property, in order to participate in that property which their own, or their ancestors idleness left them destitute of’. Thus, a lack of political power was the natural result of poverty. The poor always have the right to achieve political power by hard work, but it is the duty of government to protect property, not to obey the popular will. Parsons also gives arguments based on the irrationality of the uneducated to disqualify the mass of the people from political power. But the following bad-tempered, almost exasperated, passage is more revealing of why conservatively inclined classical republican Patriots had to break with the radicals than any number of arguments. To say that the peasant who has spent his days digging the earth; who has been educated from his cradle as a mere machine, directed and commanded by others; whose observation and reflection never stretched beyond the parish in which he was born,... who knows nothing of the adjacent country; much less of the surrounding kingdom;... who is utterly unacquainted with the whole range of arts and sciences, which enlarge and enlighten the human mind; who has never been instructed in the history of ages; the growth and decay of states and empires; the principles of government and laws, and who has never reflected, or compared, or analized or combined, or decided upon any of these: to say that this man has an equal right to be a end p.218


legislator with the man, who has for many laborous years been carefully educated in preparing for, learning, and contemplating on all these, is such a stupendous absurdity, that it does not merit in any way to be confuted, but contemned; and yet does not the doctrine of these frantic levellers amount to this.76 Such denials of popular rationality and political expertise support the common distinction between civil and political liberty. The former embodied the right of everyone to life, liberty, property, freedom of worship, and equality before the law, the latter signified real political power and was the preserve of an enlightened elite. This view, common among Irish parliamentary Whigs and Patriots such as Parsons and Charles Francis Sheridan, sharply contrasts with the emerging radical view that the two forms of liberty must go hand in hand. Indeed, in 1792, the United Irishmen went so far as to assert that ‘there can be no civil without political liberty’. The right of suffrage was necessary, they argued, for the people to safeguard their property, their religion, and http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p052_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:11:26


their lives.77 It was precisely this contention that conservative Whigs and reactionaries alike rejected.

V . MODERATION AND DISILLUSION Many Whigs and Patriots were disillusioned by both the violent turn of the French Revolution after the September Massacres of 1792 and the illiberal response of the Irish government.78 Hence, in the political debate of these years ‘moderation’ became the watchword of those who were alienated from the extremes of opinion but who still felt inclined to participate in the debate. ‘Moderation’ also became a key rhetorical weapon, as radical and reactionary struggled to have their conception of the polity accepted. Self-professed moderation was, therefore, understandably commonplace yet frequently deceptive. Even among those with legitimate claims to moderation within the range of contemporary mentalités, there were, in fact, a number of different ‘moderate’ responses to the polarization of Irish politics. Typically, two types predominated. Some wished to incorporate fully the Catholics within the state while otherwise defending the system as it stood. Others wished for moderate parliamentary reform before tensions rose too high. end p.219


This first form of’moderation’ was in fact a mixture of the radical (complete Catholic emancipation) and the conservative (refusal to concede any further parliamentary reform). It was essentially the Burkean position and was followed by a number of propertied Catholics who had previously engaged in reform and Patriot activity but who were now becoming alarmed at the prospect of social revolution. Thus, it is sometimes difficult to label these polemicists either moderate, radical, or loyalist, especially as this position was also taken up by many Protestants for essentially conservative reasons. These Protestants were rapidly re-evaluating Catholic political character in light of the present crisis. Indeed those very Catholic ‘qualities’ of slavish devotion to religious hierarchy and monarchy which Protestants had previously criticized were fast becoming valuable attributes in many eyes. Propertied Catholics had, of course, been saying as much for some time, but it was only in the changed circumstances of the Jacobin threat that many Protestants were prepared to listen. The ‘Impartial Observer’ claimed to have conversed with Catholics of every rank in every part of Ireland and found them ‘the men in Europe most fit to enjoy rational liberty, and less tainted with the infamous and detestable principles, which in the present age have been let loose to scourge mankind’. Phrased like this, the liberal advocacy of Catholic emancipation rings of hasty conversion to the lesser of two evils. In appealing for their political inclusion, this Observer expressed sentiments common among recent Protestant converts to the Catholic cause: ‘they love the king and are, by principle, and the genius of their religion, attached to order and regularity.-They desire the constitution, why should they http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p052_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:11:26


not have it? The desire is natural, and it is an evidence of their rectitude of intention and sound judgement; let them in God’s name get it, ere they adopt novel speculation.’79 If there were some ‘moderate’ Protestants whose conversion to the Catholic cause smacked of convenience rather than principle, there were Protestants who genuinely, if reluctantly, overcame a deep suspicion of Catholicism through the rigorous application of principle and natural justice—a conversion undergone by many United Irishmen. William Knox on the eve of the 1793 Catholic Relief Bill shows clearly how he recognized the short logical step from the arguments of Protestant Patriotism to Catholic political equality back in 1782. ‘If... the British Parliament had no right to make laws to affect Ireland, because Ireland had no representation in the British Parliament, I feared it would be asked, where was the justice of the Irish Protestants alone making laws for the whole inhabitants of the island, end p.220




Small, Stephen


of which they compose only one fourth part?’80 The Irish Protestants’ power, he thought, had been based on their rights as ‘Englishmen’, which had surely been renounced in 1782. Now Ireland was ‘independent’, ‘the constitution ought to be such as the majority of inhabitants choose to live under’. The Catholics, in Knox’s view, certainly had ‘the best of the argument’ and Protestants could only found their objections to their rights ‘upon special circumstances’ such as poor education.81 One figure already discussed, Theobald McKenna, espoused similar views. He was one of the more thoughtful, and one of the most difficult to categorize, of the radical republicans’ critics. He combined support for Catholic emancipation (he was a Catholic himself) with stinging and modern critiques of their classical republicanism. With some justification, given the United Irishmen’s opposition to combinations and their residual middle-class elitism, he accused republicans of hypocrisy and envy for desiring power from their superiors while treating those below them with severity. The republican’s ‘desire for Equality seldom reaches lower than his own rank. His reluctance to acknowledge a superior is sometimes, rather inconsistently, combined with a repugnance to denounce his own preeminence,’ argued McKenna. Then, moving to more theoretical concerns, he divided all political speculators into two sorts: those who estimate highly and those who estimate moderately the good qualities of man. The former have naively and stupidly ignored the lessons of history. The latter, taking into account the depravities and imperfections of human existence, ‘are willing to strike a compromise, sacrificing barren rights for productive happiness’.82 This distinction, while hardly original, underlay much of the loyalist response. The Augustinian assumption of the fallen nature of man allows the automatic rejection of any unwanted reform as a visionary scheme unfit for the real world of vice and self-interest. However, if McKenna displayed anti-Enlightenment tendencies, his most interesting argument was based firmly on ideas central to the Scottish Enlightenment. Drawing on Adam Smith’s theory of the division of labour and exhibiting a refreshingly Humean scepticism concerning the virtues of a martial way of life, McKenna repudiated the Volunteer myth with a vigour rarely seen even in the 1790s. He stoutly defended modern commercial society and cut it adrift from classical republican attachments by rejecting the idea that ‘it is proper or essential to commit the safeguard of the end p.221




country, solely to citizens’. This was because ‘those who assume the mixed character necessarily become either bad citizens, or bad soldiers; probably both’. For McKenna ‘a small standing army recruited from the people and officered from the gentry ... answers both purposes more effectively’. Indeed, the fact that the entire populace of France was in arms was, he thought, one of the chief causes of its distress. McKenna thought that the trade of a soldier, is full as essential, as that of a shoemaker; it is a part of the division of labor upon which the fabric of civil society is raised; and by the existence of it, we are enabled to become, a commercial state, not a military republic. The Gentlemen, who suggest this latter ... have come a few hundred years too late into the world. The doctrine is only calculated for ... the little tribes of armed banditti who constituted the Republics of antiquity.83 In McKenna’s case the alternative to republicanism was not, however, increased repression but sober discussion and compromise. He was a moderate who sought a middle way between ‘that puerile admiration of present establishments, which sees no fault and can endure no change and that distempered sensibility, which is alive only to perceptions of inconveniency’.84 But this middle way was becoming increasingly untenable. The political circumstances of 1793–4 were especially difficult for moderate reformers and a number of previously prominent Patriots felt uneasy siding either with the government or the radicals. The most interesting example was Joseph Pollock, author of The Letters of Owen Roe O’Nial (1779), one of the most radical pamphlets of its day. Pollock still counted himself an opponent of government but would ‘dare to confess ... that they ought now to be strong, ought now to be able to repel invasion, and, if necessary, to repress sedition’. They must however be fair, for ‘men must now be held by the bands of men, not the fetters of a slave’. By comparison with some other voices of ‘moderation’, Pollock had credibility as a reformer, but 1790s radicalism was too democratic and turbulent for his taste. Pollock claimed that his objections lay not so much in principle, but in the belief that the radicals were stirring up disaffection to such a pitch that a calamity was impending. He urged all parties not to contribute to bringing this disaster to a head ‘merely because they may afterwards defend themselves in a school of metaphysics’.85 But such observations also reveal a deeper distrust of popular power. Pollock’s rejection of’republicanism’ and his reverence for the constitution was neither conservative nor founded on a slavish adherence to the end p.222


ancient constitution. He sometimes used the language of renovation, but in general he saw the constitution as a useful, changeable institution in need of modification, and he http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p053_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:11:49


poured scorn on the idea of the constitution as ‘a perfect model’ from which all deviations were to be considered as corruptions. However, in his discussion of the new radicals the growing fractures within the Whig-Patriot family are clearly revealed. Pollock talked of’the fears entertained by many, even of the old and steady friends of reform, that some of the modern and younger reformers in the North, wished for a revolution’. These fears derived ‘from the almost unqualified dissatisfaction which certain publications had tended to disseminate, with respect even to the theory and principles of our constitution’. The consequences of this disaffection were ‘most serious’ and he notes sarcastically that disaffection might induce the French to offer Ireland Hheir protection, and their assistance in reforming our Constitution, as they had done to Belgium’86 Pollock did desire meaningful reform, listing Ireland’s three main grievances as the inadequate state of representation, the excessive influence of the crown, and all laws making any civil distinction between Catholic and Protestant subjects. But his reforms were less radical than the United Irishmen’s. Rather than a universal franchise, he sought merely a ‘sufficient number’ of electors of a ‘proper description’ to ensure control over MPs. He was essentially a ‘peaceable reformer’ in the slightly elitist classical republican mode who harked back to the success of 1782 and hoped for a similarly ‘bloodless revolution, or restoration, rather, of the Constitution’.87 This circumspection shows just how much had changed since 1780. For Pollock’s rhetoric then had been among the most violent and had even hinted at separation. However, the independence of a liberal, educated Irish elite was not the same, as democratic mob rule. The reluctance of old classical republicans to endorse the new egalitarian radicalism was not unique to Ireland. A similar process can be seen in 1790s America, where most of the founding fathers grew steadily disillusioned at the populist turn the revolution had taken.88 And in some respects, the split in Irish Patriotism mirrored the divergence of former American revolutionary activists symbolized by the development of the Federalist and Republican parties. The Federalists, like many Whiggish Irish reformers, retained an attachment to the traditional balance of power theory and a distrust of pure democracy, while Jeffersonian democrat-republicans favoured more egalitarian, unitary political structures which could more effectively reflect popular will. end p.223


However, the comparison only goes so far, for in America even the apparently Whiggish had rejected the social and hereditary distinctions which continued to support the balanced constitution in Britain and Ireland. In The Federalist, Hamilton and Madison had rejected the social distinctions supporting Britain’s balance of power (i.e. monarch, aristocracy, and people) and replaced these foundations with an elected president, and elected representatives of the states and the people. Thus the Federalists, despite their



relative elitism, were still republicans, and unlike Irish Whigs, they still ‘accepted what was perhaps the most fundamental idea of the Revolution of 1776, the notion that the people were the only source of authority for the creation of new forms of government’.89 Thus, despite the bitterness of party rivalry in 1790s America, the real ideological divide was actually much narrower than the schism that was developing in Irish Patriotism. When the Dungannon reform convention of 1793 was called, Pollock had tried to act as a bridge between radicals and parliamentary Patriots such as Grattan and Forbes-a perfectly laudable tactic in the 1780s. But the advice he received from them was now deemed ‘too aristocratic’ and Pollock himself was increasingly regarded as an ‘aristocratic emissary’. His unease at this split in the broad Patriot church was obvious. Pollock warned the radicals that ‘Parliament is still something in our constitution, and members of parliament have still some power’. Radical leaders, therefore, were not wise to reject the cooperation and advice of MPs ‘who have proved themselves the friends of reform’.90 Such a split, he argued, reflected a new, anti-aristocratic distrust of property among some radicals which, when combined with rampant populism, would bring about the destruction of civil society. Pollock thought this process would lead, in classic cyclical manner, ‘from the public distrust of gentlemen, and of men of property ... to the destruction of all ranks and all property, and with them all liberty and security, the progress in a revolution, is as necessary as the accelerated motion of a falling body; and the reform that should begin on such principles, must end, not merely in revolution, but in anarchy’.91 The fact that the United Irishmen could be accused of anarchical levelling by former reformers shows how deep the divisions within Patriotism and reform had already gone. end p.224


In terms of practical politics, however, these divisions were increasingly irrelevant by the summer of 1793. Plans for even moderate parliamentary reform were off the political agenda as the government tightened its control in wartime. The Protestant elite had gone as far as it was prepared to go on the Catholic question and now viewed calls for parliamentary reform as seditious. These developments placed the moderate ‘Friends of the Constitution’ grouping of parliamentary Patriots in an increasingly difficult position. Charlemont and Haliday despaired at the polarization developing between radicalism and unyielding loyalist reaction. ‘In short’, Haliday declared ‘the prospect is gloomy-servitude, or a dreadful explosion. All confidence in government, or in parliament, is lost.’92 Charlemont was even more desperate. ‘Wretched country, what will become of you? Your people are frantic, your governors are idiots; horrid state of things, when frenzy is to be guided by imbecility.’93 Charlemont’s analysis of the state of Ireland not only reveals the extent of political division, it also shows how the radicals had become alienated from their former fellow Patriots. The onetime Volunteer hero had become the injured, aristocratic patron whose political wisdom was http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p053_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:11:49


spurned by an ungrateful country. Put simply, the new political cleavages between radical and reactionary had made his old-style Patriotism redundant. end p.225




Small, Stephen


7 From Radical Reform to Republican Separatism, 1793-1798 Stephen Small

By 1793, war with France, the execution of Louis XVI, and the loyalist reaction described above had produced an unfavourable political landscape for radicals. Many of their demands on the Catholic front had been conceded (with the important exception of seats in parliament), but it had become clear that further reform would not be forthcoming. Radicals now faced government prosecution and fierce rhetorical opposition. In March 1794, a moderate reform bill was easily defeated in the Irish parliament, and two months later the Dublin Society of United Irishmen was officially suppressed. Organizationally speaking, the first phase of 1790s Irish radicalism had come to an end. By early 1795, however, its most radical elements had reconstituted the organization as an underground, revolutionary body, and through its assimilation with the Defenders, had turned it into a mass military movement which would culminate in republican, separatist rebellion in 1798.1

The ideological impact of this decline and rebirth was complex. While the process of government opposition, vilification, and repression caused problems for radicals, it also made many even more radical. By creating ideological tensions both within radicalism and between radicals and loyalists, it encouraged the development of the revolutionary and republican elements in Patriot thought. Before the Fitzwilliam affair of 1795, public advocates of complete separation from the British crown, or Painite republicanism, were rare, although not unknown.2 Loyalty to the constitution, in its purified form, was usually stressed. But in the second half of the decade full-blown radical republicanism became much more common, even if such end p.226


ideas were often tempered by old-style Patriotism. Gradually, the United Irishmen developed a new strain of Patriotism that was more egalitarian, more democratic, and tentatively republican in the strict anti-monarchical sense. It espoused natural rights, popular sovereignty, and complete separation from Britain. This shift toward republican separatism may look like a straightforward conversion to ‘French’ and Painite principles, both of which were undoubtedly influential, but it took



place for a variety of reasons and was framed by the options left available by the new political climate. It was driven as much by the internal logic of the familiar radical rhetoric of liberty, rights, and virtue operating within the new constraints, as by any sudden conversion to ‘French’ principles.3 Essentially, the continuing French Revolution, and the reaction which accompanied it, forced Irish Patriots and radicals to clarify their particular interpretation of the Whig tradition and to jettison those languages and arguments which were obviously incompatible with more important elements. Indeed, part of the animosity between radicals and loyalists lay in the fact that both claimed consistency with the principles of the Whig constitution. They were fighting over an inheritance which, in less stressful times, they had been able to share. This chapter will examine these developments in Patriot and radical thought up to the Rebellion in 1798. It will analyse how the new ideological and rhetorical landscape created by the French Revolution encouraged some radicals to become republican, separatist revolutionaries. And it will argue that while 1790s revolutionary republicanism was a new phenomenon, it was one that cannot be understood without recognizing continuities with its Patriot and Whiggish roots. Irish radical republicanism remained rooted within key concepts of the Patriot tradition right up to 1798.

I . SHIFTING TERMS OF DEBATE AND LINGUISTIC STRUGGLE Before charting the more ‘objective’ developments in radical thought, we should note that radicalization was partly ‘subjective’—the result of a restriction of respectable opinion. The Irish ideological landscape underwent such a dramatic change during 17923, that language and argument that would have constituted radical, but acceptable, public discourse in the end p.227


early 1780s became subversive and treasonous. This process must be seen in the light of the United Irishmen’s opposition to the war with France, which increasingly left them open to charges of disloyalty. Many moderates also opposed the war on traditional Whig principles, but opposition could easily be seen as tacit support for France. As a result, all radical rhetoric, most of which made no overt reference to France, became associated with treason and sedition. This changing rhetorical environment not only involved a change in the parameters of acceptable political discourse, but also a fierce struggle over key terms and derogatory labels. Entire pamphlets were structured by definitions of disparaging names. Who, and What is an Incendiary? (directed at Grattan’s role in the Fitzwilliam affair) made typically scathing generalizations about the radicals’ behaviour and motivations. ‘He is an incendiary, who possessed of feeble, although ostentatious talents, and unable to earn power by attention to business, endeavours to extort it by means of faction and http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p054_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:12:48


sedition’, declared the anonymous author.4 This development was partly an escalation of the violent verbal mud-slinging so common in eighteenth-century debate, but it became even dirtier from 1793-and the mud began to stick. Opponents saw each other as enemies of the people and now sought to destroy rather than embarrass. To achieve these ends, loyalist rhetorical tactics increasingly relied on a deliberate confusion and conflation of terms. As Drennan noted in 1795, in the north ‘the reformer, the republican, and the regicide, were confounded’, as ‘the catholic and the defender had been’ in the south. But the negative imagery put out by government supporters was also given credence by French terror and Defender disturbances. United Irishmen tried to ridicule these attacks. Drennan saw them as an Ascendancy conspiracy to fabricate a joint Catholic and Presbyterian plot. ‘The Catholic Committee, Defenders, United Irishmen, National Guards, French Emissaries, with a monstrous tail of et ceteras, were all combined and stitched together, to hold up a scarecrow, which might terrify those that were in, and alarm those that were out of the country’.5 However, they generally infuriated rather than amused high-minded radicals who struggled to defend the honour of the various groups savaged. In Drennan’s view, the government and its supporters had scandalously ‘denounced whole towns, by calling one a little nest of republicans [Belfast], and another the sink of the nation [Dublin]; and all this to keep the people quiet, by spreading universal terror, alarm, end p.228


suspicion’.6 We can sense Drennan’s frustration that negative epithets were sticking to the radicals in this attempt to turn the government’s labels back on itself. ‘Who are the conspirators?-Those who have first deflowered the constitution, and afterwards prostitute it for sale-Who are the traitors? Those who have treacherously plotted the disunion of the people-Who are the incendiaries? Those who have burned the bill of rights in the very sanctuary of the laws.’7 Looking back from 1796, Russell observed how this campaign had tried to discredit the concept of religious unity at the heart of the United Irish project. ‘From the moment that the attempt at union [i.e. of faiths] was obvious, the aristocracy lost no opportunity of abusing the system, and all who were active in promoting it-and in the absurd and wicked language of that faction, the union of a people so desirable to every man of virtue and religion, was called an unnatural union.8 A letter to the Northern Star from a ‘United Irishman’ tells a similar story, describing how ‘every art was used to blacken and calumniate’ their name. Despite their open call for a union of creeds and parliamentary reform up to 1794, the United Irishmen were labelled ‘French agents, sowers of sedition, [and] propagators of French principles’. Their real goals were ‘asserted to be the overthrow of all governments, the levelling of all orders, and an equal distribution of property’. Levelling principles were widely attributed to radicals throughout the 1790s (in both http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p054_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:12:48


Britain and Ireland), but they were generally a loyalist attempt to discredit rather than a realistic reflection of the views of the leading United Irishmen. Throughout the 1790s, the sanctity of private property was rarely threatened by the United Irish leadership, few of whom contemplated any revision of the land settlement or any ‘levelling’. Indeed even the French Revolutionaries, who were routinely accused of levelling, were largely innocent of such charges. As William Doyle puts it, ‘equality of fortunes or property ... [was] never espoused by more than a tiny handful of political activists in the 1790s’.9 As for the adoption of French principles more generally, there was little open republicanism in the French or the Painite sense until after 1795, and little in official United Irish ideology which could not have been derived from pre-1789 radical Whig end p.229


traditions. As the ‘United Irishman’ put it, ‘if to preach charity and good will to all men, and to endeavour to banish corruption from the land, is disseminating French principles, then United Irishmen will plead guilty to the charge’.10 This labelling partly explains declining United Irish support among the political classes. Put simply, it succeeded in frightening them. Many propertied reformers, who may have had sympathy with United Irish principles, shuddered at the idea of stirring up the masses to achieve their realization. And even if the United Irishmen themselves rejected levelling principles, most propertied Protestants assumed that a redistribution of land would be the inevitable consequence of a democratic, and therefore Catholicdominated, parliament. Despondent, exhausted, and suspicious, the country now reviled ‘the only society which ever pursued her welfare with spirit and perseverance’, according to Drennan.11 That the United Irishmen themselves admitted to such a violent change in their public image is powerful testimony to their plummeting popularity during 1793. As Russell later noted, the government reaction of that year had dramatic effects. ‘The nation was foil’d in its pursuits and put down; terror was the order of the day; it could scarce be believed but by those who were witness to it, how rapid the change was in the spirit of the metropolis, and so completely was the common enemy, the people, subdued, that long before the end of the session, some of the opposition ventured to rail at the government.’12 In so far as the pamphlet literature sheds light on the weight of opinion in the country, the balance seemed to be shifting away from the radicals. From 1793 onwards it is far easier to find ‘moderate’ or reactionary views expressed in pamphlets than radical ones. Given the threat of prosecution for sedition, this shift in the centre of balance of open debate is hardly surprising. But it seems reasonable to assume that the radicals’ loss of support in certain circles was not just a matter of state-censorship or self-censorship. It also reflects the partial success of the loyalist reaction in the linguistic and ideological struggle over the Whig tradition. In the minds of Whiggish waverers, the government’s interpretation of the limits of liberty in a period of crisis were at least plausible enough to preclude support for the radicals, even if they were not enough to procure support http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p054_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:12:48


for the government. end p.230




Small, Stephen


II . THE STRUGGLE FOR THE SOUL OF THE CONSTITUTION, I793-I795 This linguistic and ideological struggle often centred on the constitution, which both sides claimed to be defending. When, for example, the United Irishmen attacked the legality and conduct of the Irish House of Lords’ Committee of Secrecy enquiry into the Defender disturbances, Simon Butler and Oliver Bond were convicted for seditious libel.13 In the altered circumstances of 1793, the publication was regarded by the Castle as the product of French republican sympathies and a highly provocative challenge to the privileges of government. Yet in a broadsheet published on their release, the United Irishmen defended themselves with old-fashioned constitutional concepts: the freedom of the press, the separation of judicial and legislative powers, and the common law liberties of the people. Written by Drennan, the piece lamented that ‘the laws and customs of parliament should have ever entered into a contest with the liberty of the press and the rights of the people’, implying that it was the government and not the United Irishmen who were acting unconstitutionally.14 Government repression and censorship in ‘defence’ of the constitution did force some radicals to reassess their support of a system that could allow such acts. Perhaps the constitution was not so praiseworthy if it lacked the checks and balances that could prevent the suspension of Habeas Corpus, the curtailment of freedom of association and of the press, the violent destruction of property by the army, and the systematic torture, imprisonment, and transportation of Irishmen without the due process of law. But these ideas were not generally articulated until the late 1790s. Irish radicals were reluctant to hand the rhetoric of constitutionalism over to their opponents. And while those fully committed to radical principles were forced to reassess their compatibility with support for the British constitution, such questioning rarely led to the abandonment of constitutional principles before 1795. It focused, rather, on how poorly they operated in practice. In 1794 criticism of the British constitutional practice took a satirical form in William Sampson and Thomas Russell’s Review of the Lion of Old England-in which the Lion [England] is a sick and rather pathetic creature, easily fooled by the new high priest and magician of the constitution, end p.231




Edmund Burke. Between them, Burke, Pitt, and Dundas persuade the old beast into accepting a creed that subverts the true constitution. I believe in the mysteries of this Glorious Temple, as expounded to me by the Prophet Edmund, I believe in God Almighty as by law established.... I believe that Kings are the fountain of all honour, justice, wisdom, and mercy; and that the Lords are by birth Judges, Legislators and Counsellors.... I believe in the unity of Church and State. I believe in the omnipotence of Parliament.... I believe that the Swinish Multitude are born only to labour and be governed, and I believe that standing army, national debt, revenue, tax-gathering, pensions, places, ecclesiastical patronage, tythes, bribes, tests, informations, penalties and press gangs ... are the means of governing most consistent with true glory.15 This long poem attacked the myths and conventions which surrounded discussions of the constitution and the monarch. For Sampson and Russell it was Burke and not Price or Paine who was the speculative, metaphysical philosopher, wrapping human knowledge of rights, government, and the constitution in a dazzling yet unenlightening cloud of mysterious and magical rhetoric. Furthermore, the notion of a ‘true’ constitution remains, despite the satire. United Irishmen were still praising the constitution as it was meant to be and hoping for its renovation. They were still happy to see the constitution and themselves as part of the liberty-loving British tradition: a tradition which also encompassed America and Ireland, and which might be redeemed by the efforts of those countries. In An Address of the Society of United Irishmen of Dublin to Joseph Priestley, occasioned by Priestley’s self-imposed exile to America, this sense of an Atlantic radical community fighting to protect the constitution is clear. Emigration to America had served the ‘Cause of General Liberty’ and would ‘eventually and circuitously serve it even in Britain’. The emigration of Presbyterians and the actions of the Volunteers had also served the cause of liberty, and in United Irish eyes the Volunteers of Ireland still lived on across the Atlantic. Indeed, like most British radicals,16 many Irish radicals increasingly thought the America model (with its shared ‘British’ inheritance) more congenial than the French, especially as the decade wore on and the French example became ever more tainted. This model of liberty being passed back and forth across the Atlantic should console and inspire radicals. As the end p.232


address put it: ‘May the pure principles and genuine lustre of the British Constitution, reflected from their Coasts, penetrate into our Cells, and our Dungeons.’17 This panegyric to Priestley was hardly the language of Anglophobic, French-inspired republicanism, rather one of regret and remorse for the passing of a spirit of liberty in a sister-country. The United Irishmen noted with sadness that Priestley (a scientist and a man of progress) had been driven out of his native land and would not be buried http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p055_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:11


alongside his British reformer friends Savile, Price, Jebb, and Fothergill. They also asked for Priestley’s prayers, not only for their own member, Rowan, but for the Scottish radicals Muir, Palmer, Skirving, Margarot, and Gerrald-again emphasizing their place in a pan-British radical community. The address is optimistic and visionary in the sense that Priestley is ‘going to a happier world’ (not heaven just yet, rather ‘the world of WASHINGTON and FRANKLIN’). But it is also a lament for lost liberty on this side of the Atlantic, and it is curiously in keeping with the ancient constitutional tradition.18 This view of the British constitutional community had obvious implications for the United Irishmen’s position on republicanism, separation, and independence. Provided the connection could be maintained with honour and equality of status, most had little desire for complete separation at this point. The present connection was, of course, unacceptable, but a reformed connection would be both acceptable and desirable to most radicals. Furthermore, there was little tactical advantage in criticizing the king openly or in abandoning the language of the constitution to loyalists, for this would be admitting that the loyalists had been right to label the radicals levellers and republicans. The rapidly fragmenting constitutional tradition, therefore, remained an important linguistic and ideological battleground throughout the 1790s. The struggle was sometimes articulated through the competing symbols of the tree of state and the tree of liberty. Radicals had long wished to lay the axe to the root of corruption and United Irishmen would soon be trying to plant trees of liberty (metaphorically speaking) in the crown of England. But arboreal images could be appropriated by either side. William Preston compared the person of Louis XVI to the tree of state in France. This gave a very different complexion to axe-wielding democrats. French republicans, having already weakened the tree by lopping off branches in the September Massacres, then chopped Louis himself down. The tree of liberty was therefore defiled from the start, as ‘ev’ry root and fibre’ had end p.233


drunk from the ‘fatt’ning streams’ of Louis’ blood.19 Of course the radicals believed their tree of liberty to have more auspicious beginnings. Growing first in America and budding in France, their tree of liberty was cosmopolitan, universal, and enlightened. This cosmopolitanism was not seen as incompatible with an older ‘British’ constitutionalism, however, and it is testimony to the hold of ancient constitutionalism on radical republican minds that the shift away from it was so long in coming. Frustration at the inability of radicals to achieve reform had been intense since 1783, but it was the ideal of a mixed and balanced government which, as late as the Fitzwilliam debacle in 1795, the United Irishmen still generally wished to restore. Even after this event, Arthur O’Connor (one of the most radical United Irishmen) hoped in a Letter to the Earl of Carlisle (1795) ‘that the British Constitution, without convulsion or confusion, will gradually re-assume its pristine spirit and purity, and that the British http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p055_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:11


Empire will once more flourish, the envy and admiration of all nations’.20 However, radicals had grown less tolerant of the old, divisive, Irish Protestant interpretation of this constitutional tradition. Drennan observed that ‘the rememberance of civil war is still perpetrated from year to year, by the puerility of a flower or a ribbon; and we see hatred, and unfor-giveness commemorated and sanctioned, with the parade of a procession, or what in this case may be called the savage sociability of a public dinner’.21 The hypocrisy and barbarity of such behaviour is beautifully captured in Drennan’s oxymoron ‘savage sociability’, and his rejection of the Protestant Ascendancy tradition could be read as a rejection of the constitution itself. But Drennan was unwilling to renounce its principles so easily. In 1795 he still urged the new Lord Lieutenant to ‘make the constitution lovely as it was, and it will be beloved’.22 The radicals’ continuing attachment to the constitution sounded increasingly implausible to many loyalists and moderates, however. Their opposition to the war and their dissemination of Paine’s Rights of Man to the masses left them open to charges of encouraging French invasion and inflaming an irrational mob to overturn the constitution. After the arrest of the French agent William Jackson in 1794, these charges took on greater credibility in the public mind and provided an increasingly plausible explanation for the distracted state of the country. end p.234


III . THE CAUSES OF UNREST: REPRESSION, POVERTY, AND SOCIAL DIVISION Charges of inciting the poor forced radicals to articulate alternative reasons for Irish unrest if they wished their affection for the constitution to remain credible. They responded with critiques of repression, poverty, and the extreme social divisions that separated the elite from the masses. Radicals routinely asserted that the very process of reaction, designed to suppress the threat of popular insurrection, was in fact provoking it. The Irish government, Drennan argued, had become ‘a heavy-handed unfeeling aristocracy over a people, ferocious and rendered desperate by poverty and wretchedness’.23 This repression exacerbated unhealthy social divisions, destroyed all bonds of common interest and reflected ‘the monstrous and immesurable distance which separates, in this island, the ranks of social life’.24 O’Connor savaged Pitt and the Irish government for their handling of this situation and then assessed ‘two possible expedients ... to allay the rising ferment of discontent and dissaffection-COERCION and REDRESS’. The latter, as it was founded on justice and humanity, ‘must be the safest, easiest, and most durable, because it secures obedience to the laws and loyalty to the throne, on the surest of all tenures-THE LOVE OF THE PEOPLE’. Coercion, he argued, ‘cannot produce permanent effects, while its immediate operation must be terrible.’25 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p055_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:11


This line of argument easily slipped into an attack on the governing elite’s disregard for the poor. Social analysis, beyond the often superficial rhetoric of improvement and commerce, was not central to early 1790s radicalism, but as the decade wore on it assumed greater importance as the United Irishmen were, in Tone’s famous phrase, forced to turn to ‘the men of no property’.26 In 1793-5, United Irish criticism of the elite’s treatment of the poor took several forms. Drennan, for example, appealed to elite self-interest to highlight the alienation of the labouring classes. ‘Should the Poor emigrate, what would become of you, proud, powerful, silly men!- What would become of you if your ears of corn should wither on the stalk, and the labours of the loom should cease?’27 Russell and Sampson used end p.235




Small, Stephen


bitter sarcasm to similar effect in The Review of the Lion of Old England. ‘This poverty and misery of the Irish people, it would be very seditious to ascribe to any vice in the Government of the country, or to anything but the native profligacy, bigotry and ignorance of the wretches themselves, whom not all the soldiers sent amongst them, by a generous and mild government, can enlighten or civilize.’28 Other approaches included a radical reading of Locke’s argument that God was the ultimate origin of property rights. Russell, for example, argued that ‘the earth was given to man by he who alone had a right to give it for his subsistance’. This argument was ‘not intended to question the right of landed property’, but it did give the poor certain rights and implied that they should not be ‘despised’ by the landowners. For as Russell pointed out, ‘the possession of land without cultivators is of no value to a man, except so much as could support himself, and that several of these gentlemen who vilify the mob would be but ill qualified to do’. Revealingly, while rich landlords who ‘derive their wealth from the labours of the poor’ were firmly rebuked, Russell excused ‘those whose wealth arises from commerce’. This has much to do with the occupations of many of his fellow United Irishmen, but it also reveals the continuing Patriotic commitment to commerce and the essentially laissez-faire assumptions of United Irish economic thought.29 Drennan similarly abhorred the absentee landlords and ‘political country gentlemen’ who swapped stories about how terrible their tenants were. In his view, these parasites exaggerated any minor disturbance into a major riot, while spending the rents extracted from the poor on luxury goods in Dublin. He also railed against the Burkean hierarchical structure of society which ‘supports itself by vilifying and abusing the human race with a systematic scurrility, as a swinish multitude, a beggary of no value or estimation, thus widening the chasm in society, instead of hastening to fill it up and smooth it over.’30 However, it was not only the radicals who were blaming the rich and the government for poverty and division. Moderate reformers, warning of the dangers of French invasion and Irish revolution, also identified poverty as the root cause of the country’s disaffected state. One pamphleteer thought ‘the drain of the upper classes of the people and their money to England’ kept Ireland poor. These upper classes, he asserted, were unfeeling and foolish if they tried to keep the masses in permanent misery. He also argued that the poor man who tried to get his hands on Irish property acted from end p.236




the same human impulse as the monarch who seized land from his neighbours: hence the poor man’s desire to better his condition by revolution should not surprise the propertied. Can it be wondered at, if, what is commonly called the mob, that part of society composed of all that is wretched, all that is outcast, and all that is hopeless, should turn upon the property of their wealthy neighbour, when an opportunity offers. If it is said, they were born and are used to their situation, that is the language of unfeeling folly. That country is wretched indeed, where ninety-nine in every hundred see and feel, that no change, no revolution, can possibly make them worse or more miserable than they actually are. This state of affairs revealed a lack of unity which destroyed real Patriotism. He urged his countrymen, ‘let not the multitude be despised by the rich and great. It is that the rich may enjoy ease, that the poor man labours; and for their security that the poor fight and bleed.... It is therefore the particular interest, not of the poor, but of the rich, to endeavour to make the cause of the nation a real one.’31 The barrister John Donovan also blamed ‘the dreadful precipice’ on which his country stood on a corrupt and profligate government that had neglected the interests of the poor. As a result, ‘the affections of the great mass of the people, the lower orders, are not with the Government of the country’. Furthermore, this disaffection could easily lead to upheaval due to the ignorance of the poor—’for, the ignorant, incapable of calculating the calamities which attend a violent Revolution, suppose that every poor man would immediately get riches, without labour’. According to Donovan, the Irish poor were particularly ignorant in comparison to the poor in England, Scotland, America, Holland, France, and Switzerland. This made them more readily misled and more ferocious and cruel when provoked to insurrection. Donovan’s evident fear of the mob went hand in hand with genuine compassion-he was not simply a frightened property owner. He observed that if any man could insist ‘that the lower orders of the people in Dublin are as happy and as comfortable as they can or ought to be, I will not say that man is deceived, but I will say his heart is bad’. Apart from the serfs, he argued, there was ‘no peasantry in Europe ... worse housed and worse fed, than the peasantry of Ireland’. The government had made no attempt to improve the situation of the poor and so it was no wonder, he argued ‘that the poor are discontented. We have no right to expect their assistance in defending a state, in which they do not feel any Interest.... It is natural that they should look forward to Revolutions; end p.237


and the most likely way to change their sentiments would be to improve their conditions.’32 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p056_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:32


Such analysis of the current crisis naturally led to speculation on the long-term solutions to Irish poverty and degradation. But with a few exceptions, radicals rarely applied genuine levelling principles. Denis Driscol, in January 1794, used his Cork Gazette to promote levelling, declaring men with a greater share of property than their neighbours usurpers of their fellow citizen’s rights.33 But such views were rarely expressed in print. No doubt Driscol’s prosecution for seditious libel and subsequent two-year prison sentence dampened enthusiasm for the public expression of levelling doctrines, but most United Irishmen did not wish to threaten the security of property. They increasingly promised reductions in tax and tithe burdens on the poor, but this did not amount to a revolutionary redistribution of wealth. For all their genuine concern, their solutions to Irish social and economic problems (in so far as they existed) essentially relied on a mystical faith in the ability of political reform and education to release the stifled economic energy of the country. Improvement and wealth would result from a free market economy liberated from the heavy hand of aristocracy and government, not from social revolution.

IV . SOLUTIONS: EDUCATION, POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY, AND RADICAL REFORM Fundamental to the radical goals of liberty, independence, and popular sovereignty was the need for education. The United Irishmen, along with other enlightenment-inspired radicals, had a strong faith in the ability of education to overcome bigotry and create virtuous and productive citizens. Indeed, according to Russell, ‘Ignorance, in a philosophical sense of the word, may be considered as the sole cause that can make people slaves or wicked.’34 The effects of education, therefore, were theoretically great. But faith in the potential of the Catholic peasantry was constrained by lingering Protestant distrust of Catholicism, and old-fashioned rhetoric which saw the Catholics’ political enlightenment in terms of their approximation to Protestantism was not uncommon. For example, a United Irish ‘Address to the Nation’ declared, ‘Popery is no longer to be met with, but in the statute end p.238


book. The Catholics stand before us as POLITICAL PROTESTANTS, for they endeavour to establish the REFORMATION of the Constitution.’35 Drennan made the civilizing role of education one of the primary themes of his Letter to his Excellency Earl Fitzwilliam (1795), and he urged the new Lord Lieutenant to direct his ‘sincere and early attention, to the EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE OF IRELAND’. But like most other advocates of popular education, Drennan had a double agenda which reveals a dilemma at the heart of the radicals’ popularization of politics. While he saw education as genuinely egalitarian and a liberating force, there was always a fear of the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p056_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:32


mob, which required their education as a constraint. Drennan castigated ‘the prejudice, that there is one sort of knowledge fit for the learned, and another adapted to the vulgar’ as ‘perhaps the most pernicious error that ever poisoned the happiness of mankind’, asserting that ‘the truth is one and the same for all men’. The multitude, he argued, should not be deceived with falsehoods but ‘trained up from infancy to maturity, in the knowledge of truth, the practice of virtue, and the communication of happiness’. However, Drennan also revealed a nervous distrust of the barbarous qualities of the uneducated peasantry that is not wholly dissimilar to Burke’s. The people must be educated as speedily as possible, he thought, because they ‘are daily becoming more sensible of their physical power’. Hence, the poor need ‘that particular knowledge which is relative to the condition every individual may hold in society; and which binding them to that condition by selfish and domestic ties, may prevent them from roaming at large in the savagery of nature’.36 Thus the Irish radicals’ belief in education was not simply abstract enlightenment speculation, if universal suffrage were to be introduced soon, it was a pressing concern. The value of education for economic and political improvement had inspired Patriotic platitudes throughout the eighteenth century, but how would it work, and what would be taught? Drennan’s theory of political knowledge saw education as a necessary condition for patriotic love of country, which in turn would lead to individual service to the glory of Ireland. Donovan shared his views, declaring that honesty, social behaviour, virtue, and happiness are taught not natural. The government, Donovan thought, could encourage a revival of Patriotism through technical education designed to improve the commerce and manufactures of the country. An elaborate scheme of national education would ensure that genius and end p.239


talent previously lost to Ireland would be discovered, cultivated, and ‘directed to the advantage of the nation and the possessor’. ‘How many Wedgewoods, how many Arkwrights, how many men whose mechanick genius might have raised the manufactures of our country to the greatest perfection, and given employment and support to our starving millions, may ... have been lost to our country’ due to a lack of education, wondered Donovan.37 Both Drennan and Donovan expressed a preference for non-sectarian education to eradicate religious feuds. In theory, Drennan wished to cultivate a ‘universal education ... which must of itself, assimilate all religions into the only true one-the love of God and our neighbours’. Although he recognized the difficulties in achieving ‘a uniform plan of national education in Ireland, differing as it does in the descriptions of men who inhabit it’, and his practical proposals called for separate Catholic and Presbyterian colleges to complement Trinity College.38 Not surprisingly, military education was also prescribed. Donovan surmised that ‘unless a martial spirit should be infused into the minds of a rising generation, unless they are



made a nation of soldiers, they must cease to be a nation at all’. Donovan realized that this classical republican formula, so commonplace in the 1780s, could now be viewed as subversive and dangerous. The Volunteers had been suppressed and there was widespread fear of popular rebellion. But he rejected claims that ‘it would be impossible to govern a well-educated and martial people, and that a good education must necessarily make the people Republican and Jacobin’. The Swiss, he countered, ‘are a well-educated and martial people’ and their government was ‘certainly not what is now called Democratic’. Indeed, in spite of their proximity to France, there was ‘not a nation in Europe more quietly or better governed, or perhaps farther distant from a Revolution’.39 For Drennan, the newly educated Catholic citizens would rightly demand some form of material stake in the country, for ‘no one endeavours to serve a state of which he is not a member’.40 Education, therefore, could create a Patriotism which would attach the people to the government, but government must cultivate the attachment by deserving it: in other words by labouring for their happiness and by conferring real benefits on them. These real benefits, of course, were precisely what the Ascendancy wished to withhold, and Drennan accused them of deliberately keeping the people in a state of ignorance to maintain their own privileges. ‘You DARE not end p.240




Small, Stephen


educate the people; you are afraid to look an intelligent public in the face; their insignificance is your importance; their baseness sets you in relief; and you dread these cyphers acquiring a value that may sink your own.’41 Ultimately, for Drennan and most radicals, high levels of education were inseparable from a recognition of and demand for political rights. The direction of causality in this relationship between political rights and education was sometimes unclear, but their mutual dependence comes across clearly in his comment: ‘I do believe that the diffused enjoyment of the elective right can alone educate a country [and] give a proper value to its inhabitants.’42 In their critique of Irish ignorance and elite indifference to the poor, the United Irishmen were following in the footsteps of previous ‘improving’ Irish Patriots, such as Swift and Berkeley. But quite how far the United Irishmen really wished to incorporate these poor into the polity was a moot point. This question goes right to the heart of the radical vision of the body politic. Did the United Irishmen believe in a natural hierarchical order (albeit a flattened one that gave the virtuous middle classes a prominent role), or were they prepared to envision genuine equality of political status among all adult males? Irish radicalism was always subject to ideological tensions over the practical consequences of popular sovereignty. Their plans for the reform of the representation to make the Commons truly ‘popular’ might not necessarily have included the entire adult male population. The United Irishmen were groping towards a genuinely popular mode of politics, but they still retained elements of hierarchy. In an address written in late 1792 and published in 1793, they asserted that ‘the people’ were not any party or faction, but ‘the multitude of human beings, the living mass of humanity associated to exist, to subsist, and to be happy. In them and them only we find the original of social authority, the measure of political value, and the pedestal of political power.’ This seems like a strong affirmation of popular sovereignty, but it does not entail complete political equality. The authority of ‘the multitude’ does not necessarily mean equal political rights for everyone, and pedestals are, after all, for standing on. It was upon a basis of popular support that the United Irishmen wished to erect their reformed constitution. But like their critics, many radicals did not want active participation in government by the lower classes, merely their votes.43 end p.241




Even this was too much for some United Irish leaders. In November 1793 (over two years after their inception) the Society of United Irishmen in Dublin finally agreed upon a plan for parliamentary reform. This did call for universal suffrage, but there had been serious opposition to it within the society (it was endorsed by only 11 votes to c)).44 The delay in itself testifies to the difficulty many had with this concession to the lower classes, and the pill could only be sweetened by the proviso ‘that the votes of all electors be given by Voice and not Ballot’. This would allow social and intellectual superiors to exercise control over the masses and to direct their opinion.45 This tension over the issue of popular sovereignty, as Michael Durey and Louis Cullen have pointed out, caused serious ideological and tactical divisions within the ranks of the radicals. Durey identifies a split in the Dublin United Irishmen between a ‘sansculottes’ element of mainly Catholic artisans who supported direct representation and rotation of office, and a middle-class, Protestant ‘Jacobin’ element who saw themselves as the natural leaders of the society. According to Durey, this led to a secret, nonCatholic inner committee by the end of 1792 and much resentment among many of the ordinary members.46 This view of an elite-outsider relationship is further complicated by Cullen’s depiction of an almost bewildering array of factions and shifting alliances within the United Irish elite itself.47 The most significant of these was the split between a rhetorical and open element represented by Drennan, Rowan, and Butler, and a more radical and secretive alliance of Tone, Russell, and Northerners such as Neilson. The former group sought to inspire vociferous political controversy, but were suspicious of Catholics and disliked secret organization. The latter were more pro-Catholic and eventually sought a meaningful alliance with the Defenders. This disagreement led to the gradual margin-alization of Rowan, Drennan, and Butler as the Tone-NeilsonRussell faction withdrew from the informer-ridden ‘talking shop’ of the Dublin society’s meetings and developed underground. To a large extent these divisions can be seen as clashes of personality and tactical disagreements about how best to achieve a set of shared goals. However, they are clearly end p.242


also part of the continuing tension within Irish radicalism over the role of the people and the parliamentary franchise.48 Apart from the issue of viva voce voting, the United Irish reform plan was very similar to those put forward by British radicals since the 1780s. It envisaged 300 equal electoral districts returning one representative each selected by ‘every Male of sound Mind, who has obtained the full age of 21 years’. There were residency requirements for voters, who could only vote in one electorate per election and who were forbidden to take oaths of any kind. Representatives would be over 25 and resident in the kingdom (but not necessarily the constituency). They would be paid a reasonable stipend and were not subject to a property qualification. They were required to swear http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p057_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:54


an oath that they had not bribed any electors, and pensioners and placeholders were disqualified from being a representative. Parliaments would be annual.49 None of these ideas were especially new to the political discourse of the British Isles in late 1793. Repression, however, altered perceptions of what was politically possible. By the time of the plan’s publication in early 1794, it was patently outside the government’s interpretation of acceptable political discourse. In May 1794, plans for peaceful parliamentary reform were confirmed as redundant by the government’s suppression of the United Irishmen.50 The prosecution of the French agent and Anglican clergyman William Jackson had implicated leading United Irishmen, including Tone and Rowan, in plans for a French invasion-giving the government all the excuses it needed to suppress the society. This was a key event. The discussions of Rowan with a French agent and the memoranda produced for Jackson by Tone on the disaffected state of the country reveal a willingness to contemplate a French-assisted revolution that was not present a year earlier.51 This episode shows that republicanism and separatism were contemplated seriously for the first time during 1794. It also inadvertently paved the way for the United Irishmen’s reincarnation as a secret, revolutionary body in the following year. But the most important impetus for this transformation was the Fitzwilliam affair, which confirmed, if confirmation were necessary, the abyss which had opened up between the radicals and the Castle. end p.243


V . THE FITZWILLIAM AFFAIR After the suppression of the Dublin United Irishmen in May 1794, Ireland was quieter than it had been for some years, and radicalism seemed to be in decline.52 But the calm masked intense polarization. As Drennan put it: ‘the unhappy circumstances of the times, have destroyed all gradations of opinion; the isthmus of neutrality has been worn away by the contending waves on the opposite sides; and the anarchy of interests has resolved into two distinct casts, that stand lowering at each other like two adverse armies’.53 In the summer of that year, the Portland Whigs joined Pitt’s ministry and took control of the Home Office and Irish policy from Dundas. This eventually led to Earl Fitzwilliam’s appointment as Lord Lieutenant. Known to be personally favourable to the Catholic cause, Fitzwilliam also had personal connections with leading Irish Whigs (notably the Ponsonbys) and large estates in Ireland. His appointment was regarded in Ireland as a sign that the government would allow the passage of Catholic emancipation. It seems, however, that Fitzwilliam came over with ambiguous instructions after a brief and inconclusive meeting with Pitt and William Grenville towards the end of 1794-54 Fitzwilliam was convinced that Pitt had recognized the justice and expediency of Catholic Emancipation, even if he wished ideally to postpone the measure until more tranquil times. Fitzwilliam later claimed that he was to give http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p057_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:54


emancipation his ‘handsome support’ if the Catholics were ‘determined to stir the business’.55 But according to Grenville, ‘the Catholic Question was ... not discussed at much length [and] ... no decided sentiment was expressed by any one as to the Line which it might be right ultimately to adopt’.56 Carlisle later expressed the view that the cabinet wished to postpone the measure indefinitely and certainly expected Fitzwilliam to seek cabinet approval before encouraging the Catholics to press the issue.57 Even before arriving in Ireland in January 1795, Fitzwilliam had ruffled feathers among the Ascendancy hawks. After taking advice from the Whig end p.244


magnate George Ponsonby and the leading Patriot Henry Grattan, he seems to have decided that it would be unwise to disappoint Catholic expectations after they had been raised so high. Galvanized by his impending arrival, in December 1794 the leading Catholics of Dublin duly decided to press ‘for a TOTAL REPEAL of the PENAL and RESTRICTIVE LAWS, still affecting the Catholics of Ireland’.58 When Fitzwilliam finally arrived he also proved less than endearing to the Castle administration by rashly dismissing a number of leading officials, including the well-connected John Beresford. The full implications of Fitzwilliam’s intentions dawned on Pitt when Grattan introduced a Catholic emancipation bill with the Lord Lieutenant’s tacit approval. He was promptly dismissed on 23 February, only seven weeks after his arrival. Fitzwilliam was later convinced that his own dismissals, especially that of Beresford, one of the Castle ‘Troika’, were the real reasons for his recall in March, rather than his support of Catholic emancipation.59 The reasons for his recall, however, are less important than its effects. This highly symbolic act was a turning point for Irish radicalism. Pitt had dismissed a reforming Lord Lieutenant who seemed on the brink of securing full Catholic emancipation. Furthermore, his action appeared to be influenced by the reviled Ascendancy triumvirate of Beresford, Fitzgibbon, and Foster. This made it all the more galling for radicals and revealed fully the nature of the obstacles in their way. If the Lord Lieutenant himself-the nephew and heir of Rockingham, an important influence on Portland, and one of the most respected figures in the British Isles-could not secure this reform, would it ever come about through parliamentary means? Any faint glimmering of hope that reform might be achieved peacefully was extinguished, and any chance of reconciliation between the radicals and the government was finally destroyed. What was a genuinely committed radical reformer to do in these circumstances? In response to the reverses of 1794 and the Fitzwilliam debacle, many radicals simply dropped out of active politics-including Drennan who had been shaken by his trial for sedition in 1794. Given a choice between secret activity or passivity, some of the original United Irishmen reluctantly opted for the latter, especially as the prospect of violent rebellion grew in 1796 and 1797. The more moderate of the United Irishmen http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p057_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:13:54


thus left the end p.245




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way clear for their radical colleagues to redefine the movement. By the end of 1797, Drennan, perhaps the most eloquent radical of the 1780s and early 1790s, had withdrawn from public life into isolated disillusion. His remarks to Martha McTier show how much he disapproved of, and felt distanced from, the events he had helped set in train: ‘Some people look at me as they pass, as if they said there is the author of evil. They might as well in Rome have blamed the great grandfather of Catiline for his offences. I believe what I wrote exalted the public mind rather than debased it. The ferment then produced a generous wine. It now produces vinegar.’60 Some radicals, whether from disillusionment or because of the threat of prosecution, chose, or were forced to emigrate (Wolfe Tone and Archibald Hamilton Rowan being the most notable examples). Michael Durey has charted the importance of these transatlantic radicals on the emerging American republic as Jeffersonian democrats and influential journalists. Hundreds of Irish radicals would eventually leave for America, but the great flood of Irish exiles came in the aftermath of the Rebellion of 1798.61 A few radicals were converted to loyalism and a handful even became government propagandists or informers, for example William Paulet Carey, and later, Thomas Reynolds. However, more hardy souls felt they had gone too far and said too much to quit the country or retire into the background and wait until the storm had passed. The years of rhetoric demanded action. ‘Honour’, ‘virtue’, and ‘perseverance’ had been watchwords for many Patriots since the late 1770s, and many felt bound by these concepts. A correspondent of the Northern Star succinctly formulated the problem faced by radicals once ‘terror had become the order of the day’. ‘What was to be done? were the societies to abandon the great object for which they first associated? Were they basely to stoop before corruption?- No! they were pledged before God and their Country to use all their abilities and influence to attain a radical Reform, and they determined to persevere.’62 In an age when honour mattered, the abandonment of public life to await events in silence was anathema to men like Thomas Russell, Samuel Neilson, Henry Jackson, Henry Joy McCracken, Arthur O’Connor, and Lord Edward Fitzgerald. It was from these men, among others, that the new secret, oath-bound United Irishmen emerged in the spring of 1795. Sampson thought this development was only to be expected, for ‘if you prevent mens’ speaking openly and boldly, you surely must expect that they end p.246



will conspire in secret’.63 In similar vein, Drennan argued that ‘to protract a Reform is to propagate Republicanism’.64 The new organization originated in Belfast but soon spread through much of the country, often by merging with the widespread Defender network. Inner circles of United Irishmen had continued meeting after May 1794. Some Belfast societies had been meeting secretly before the society’s suppression, and in Dublin the Strugglers Club seems to have performed this function.65 The more moderate and ‘open’ elements dropped away, while the embryonic republican separatists began to regroup. McDowell estimates that about 70 of the 350 or so Dublin United Irishmen were actively involved in the new society,66 while in the North the majority of the leading Belfast United Irishmen made the transition. But as Marianne Elliott points out, while many of the original United Irish leaders remained United Irishmen, this rebirth was not simply the continuation of the old society. Indeed, much of the energy for the militarization and republican-ization of the post-1795 United Irishmen came from new sources-from the more obscure artisans, shopkeepers, and farmers of the northern societies.67 The new society was organized in a hierarchical ‘cell’ structure which led, through many levels, from small local societies to a General Executive Directory.68 It also began to arm and to forge contacts with the French Directory and with radicals in Britain in preparation for an anticipated French invasion. The details of United Irish reorganization and their activities leading up to the rebellion in 1798 have recently been well told by a number of historians, most notably Marianne Elliott and Nancy Curtin: they should not detain us here.69 However, the timing of this rebirth is noteworthy. In a published letter dated 11 September 1796, Russell alluded to ‘a system of brotherly love and union and a revival of national spirit’ which had been ‘rapidly taking place among the people’ for ‘the last eighteen months’. If Russell was being precise in his dating, this would put the inception of the new United Irish organization in March 1795, within weeks of Fitzwilliam’s recall.70 end p.247


VI . FURTHER REPRESSION: THE CONSTITUTION UNDER STRAIN Between 1795 and 1797, a new wave of government reaction swept over Ireland. The Indemnity Act of 1795 protected JPs who had acted beyond their authority from prosecution. By the Insurrection Act of March 1796 , JPs could have their barony or county ‘proclaimed’, allowing them to impose curfews, to send ‘disorderly persons’ to the navy, and to carry out random arms searches. The Act also imposed the death penalty for administering oaths, and convictions for taking an oath generally led to transportation. A number of Belfast United Irish leaders were arrested in September 1796 (including Neilson and Russell), and this was rapidly followed by the suspension of http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p058_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:12


Habeas Corpus in October and the creation of the Yeomanry (which rapidly became a bastion of Orangeism) in November. Both measures significantly increased the repressive capacity of local elites and were part of an escalating campaign to suppress and disarm the growing United Irish-Defender alliance. A campaign which culminated in General Lake’s brutal disarming of Ulster in the spring and summer of 1797. These events were naturally used by United Irish propagandists to emphasize executive tyranny and to question the government’s commitment to the constitution. William Sampson asked if it was right ‘to trifle and tamper with the law, to go on enacting statute after statute, wild, incoherent, and incongruous, with every principle of rational law or liberty’. He then compared the government’s enactment of’law after law’ to the ‘bloody and fanatical decrees of a crazy Roman Emperor’.71 Arthur O’Connor thought this reaction ‘the systematic scheme of the British Ministry and those vermin that have nestled about the throne, to frame some new-modelled despotism from the ruins of freedom’. He gave a vivid image of a constitution distorted beyond all recognition by the recent legislation and executive action of the Irish government. By refusing reform, the government had denied the inalienable right of free-born men to have their laws made by delegates of their choice. The Convention Act perpetuated the usurpation of these rights by proscribing the only obvious and orderly means to regain them. The Gunpowder Act deprived Irishmen of the right to bear arms in defence of their lives, liberties, and property. The suspension of Habeas Corpus led to false imprisonment and destroyed the bulwark of liberty by withholding trial by jury. Furthermore, the government had achieved uncontrolled end p.248


power over opinion through its censorship of the press and had ‘sold’ Irish commerce to Britain-which then appointed the Irish government and distributed Irish patronage.72 O’Connor made these observations, in part, to counter accusations that radicals were dissuading people to arm in defence of the constitution against French invasion. His point being that the government’s destruction of the constitution had already done that job. What was left of the constitution was no longer worth defending. This charge of disloyalty was common, but to radicals the choice was not simply between loyalty and disloyalty. They were choosing what conception of the constitution to be loyal to. Recent innovations to it should not be mistaken for the real thing. The blustering reaction of one ‘loyalist’ to the refusal of many northerners to enrol in the militia under the terms of the Oath of Allegiance in the new Enrolment Act shows complete incomprehension at such fine distinctions. ‘They admit they are willing to swear they will support the constitution; and yet, they decline consenting to swear they will support the law and constitution.-How inconsistent?-Where is the difference between the one and the other? What is the constitution but the aggregate of the laws?’73 This loyalist bewilderment shows that the very concept of ‘the constitution’ was breaking down under the pressure of competing interpretations. A chasm had opened up http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p058_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:12


between the two understandings of the constitution, and with no codified fundamental law, it became an almost vacuous concept to be filled with a variety of ideologies. The inadequacy of an unwritten, nebulous, constantly evolving, and reinterpreted tradition had already been glaringly revealed by Paine. He rejected the constitution as early as 1792, when he declared that ‘no such thing as a constitution exists in England’.74 Some Irish radicals, such as Tone, were also beginning to realize the intellectual futility of sparring matches over the true nature of the constitution and, as we shall see below, effectively abandoned them. Hence, for some Patriots, the fundamental failure of the constitution as a usable political concept was the prerequisite for the final stage in their radicalization. O’Connor illustrated this breakdown and described its consequences for radicals in a 1796 election address. if the monopoly of the whole national representation by a few individuals forms the basis of their Constitution, and if the most profligate sale of that representation to end p.249


the agent of another country be the sole means by which it is moved and maintained, so far from seeking your confidence by promising to support it-I pledge myself to you and my country to, use every means in my power to effect its destruction.75 However, there were different paths to republican separatism. Many United Irishmen never took the final step beyond the pale of rejecting the constitution outright. Whether this was due to continuing commitment to it or for merely tactical reasons is often difficult to assess. For those still in Ireland (Tone, of course, had left in 1795) there was little to recommend forthright rejection of the constitution apart from intellectual honesty and coherence-attributes largely unappreciated by the Castle. Furthermore, such rejection would only serve to alienate moderate reformers. Therefore, the Irish radicals often continued to use the language of the constitution for its respectability while their interpretation of the constitution’s essential elements continued to diverge from the government’s-even to the point of desiring separation and republicanism to renovate its basic principles.

VII . REPUBLICANISM AND SEPARATISM By 1796 Irish radicalism had taken a decidedly more republican and separatist turn. The increasingly reactionary climate after 1795 contributed to this process-creating a more widespread desire for complete independence and pushing radicals from classical to Painite republicanism. The choice Wolfe Tone now offered to Ireland was a stark one —’Union or Separation’ which to him amounted to a choice between ‘slavery or http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p058_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:12


independence’. There was, he asserted, ‘no third way’. This position was qualitatively more extreme than his pre-1795 radicalism, but we can see from An Address to the People of Ireland on the Present Important Crisis that it stems largely from an intensification of ideas already present in 1791, and indeed in the 1780s. This pamphlet, although probably written in 1796, was found on board a French ship bound for Ireland as part of an invasion force in 1798-as indeed was Tone himself, on his second mission after the abortive attempt at Bantry Bay in 1796. It was, therefore, primarily a piece of propaganda designed to provoke Patriotic rebellion among Irishmen to aid the invasion. Hence if any pamphlet should express extreme Irish radical republicanism, this is it. Nevertheless, many of the older Patriot nostrums remain. end p.250




Small, Stephen


The success of Irish commerce is still an important element. Indeed British government is repeatedly criticized on the grounds that it inhibits Irish trade. Furthermore, a quite surprising vestige of Protestant Patriot religious superiority has remained-despite the growing United Irish alliance with the Catholic Defenders and the fact that Tone must have planned for the pamphlet to be read by large numbers of Catholics. In the course of an almost millenarian piece of prose somewhat uncharacteristic of Tone, he declares: ‘I do not look upon the French revolution as a question subject to the ordinary calculation of politics; it is a thing which is to be...as the Reformation subverted Popery, so I am firmly convinced, the doctrine of republicanism will finally subvert that of Monarchy, and establish a system of just and rational Liberty, on the ruins of the Thrones of the Despots of Europe.’76 Apart from the powerful commitment to republicanism, this passage also shows that Tone, despite his genuine commitment to Catholic Emancipation, still linked political liberty to Protestantism: the Protestant reformation signified an important link in the inevitable progress from slavery to liberty which was dependent on the subversion of popery. The full heat of republican fervour has not entirely melted Tone’s Protestant superiority. Similarly reminiscent of older Patriot rhetoric is the treatment of corruption, which remains at the heart of his analysis of Irish problems. Once again England’s corruption is its most heinous crime, and indeed the mechanism by which other offences are perpetrated. It is because England ‘debauches and degrades’ the Irish gentry, and because it buys Irish legislators to betray their nation while paying them with Irish money, that Ireland is in such a sorry state. ‘It is England who supports that rotten, aristocratic faction among you, which ... to maintain itself by the power of England, is ready to sacrifice, and does daily sacrifice, your dearest rights to her insatiable lust for gold and power.’77 Yet these older Patriot critiques now lead to more radical solutions. The critique of the Irish elite goes right to the heart of the system and leads to an attack on the principles of the British constitution, which are now roundly condemned in a manner not seen earlier. Indeed the whole idea of a mixed constitution in which a branch of government is exercised by hereditary lords was effectively rejected, and the hereditary monarchy comes out no better. Tone’s criticism of the king are vicious even by mid-179Os end p.251




standards and they are a world away from his willingness to shed blood for him five years earlier.78 He now declares: Your King is a foreigner, an Englishman, a native of a country, that holds you in utter contempt; whom you never see nor expect to see; who never condescends to visit Ireland, who, with all the ignorant prejudices and illiberal passions of his nation, distributes from his closet at St. James’s, by the advice of the British Cabinet, the honours and rewards of your country, either among English sycophants, or more despicable Irish apostates. Thus, the king is now placed at the very heart of the web of corruption. The old device of blaming his ministers is cast aside, and with the king revealed as chief corrupter his position becomes untenable. Tone drives the republican point home in imagery extremely resonant to all Irishmen. People of Ireland, this is your absentee Monarch! this is the idol, before whom you are to fall down, and to worship, like another Moloch, with the sacrifice of your blood; to pamper whose pride and folly and ambition, you are daily called upon to devote your treasures and your lives, your individual liberties, and the glory and independence of your native land; and this is the sentiment which is called loyalty.79 Tone’s rhetoric is a mixture of the old and the new. The English connection is vilified with much greater passion, and the variety and range of pernicious English influence is much wider: Irish merchants are starved, wretched Irish peasants are kept half-fed and half-clothed, and religious dissension is kept up, all through English influence. Tone displays an anti-Englishness which was not evident five years earlier. Now, the English government is not only criticized for the way it corrupts and controls the Irish parliament. The actual character of Englishmen is impugned as illiberal and prejudiced, and Irishmen are reminded ‘that even the meanest Englishman considers himself as your superior, and despises an Irishman in his heart’.80 Thus, the older Whiggish approach that saw Britain as a country to be admired as a land of liberty, at least within its own borders, is now rejected. The British constitution is no longer a laudable political system which has been misapplied in Ireland, it is inherently flawed because it has permitted corruption to flourish. Indeed, Tone seems almost weary of the debate over the constitution and the ‘cant’ trotted out about its supposed benefits. In the following gloss on Paine he tacitly admits that further debate is pointless, because anyone who is not a convinced republican now, end p.252


never will be. ‘On him, who is not convinced by the arguments of Payne, of the absurdity of hereditary monarchs, and hereditary legislators, where no man would http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p059_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:36


admit of hereditary cobblers who wished to have his shoes well mended, I despair of making any impression.’81 In this despair lies part of the reason for the shift to revolutionary republicanism. For when reason cannot persuade the only option left for someone as committed to liberty as Tone is force. The conversion to revolutionary republicanism was therefore quite consistent with his interpretation of the Patriot tradition. He called upon his countrymen ‘to consider the sacred obligation that you are called upon to discharge, to emancipate your country from a foreign yoke, and to restore to liberty yourselves and your children’.82 Thus by 1796, if not before, Tone had become a committed republican in the Painite sense, and a full-blown separatist. Furthermore, the two goals had almost become synonymous for him. Democratic republican liberty could not be achieved while Ireland was connected in any way to England. Admittedly, Tone had not been in Ireland since 1795, and so his views might have been slightly out of touch with other Irish radicals, but many of his fellow United Irishmen held similar views by 1796. For those still in Ireland who wished to publish their views, such strong language was extremely dangerous in a traceable publication. Radical writing in the years immediately preceding the Rebellion often trod a fine line between Patriotic platitudes and provocative propaganda. O’Connor was among the most outspoken. ‘If to promote the UNION of IRISHMEN be treason, and if to place the liberties of my country on its TRUE REPUBLICAN BASIS be treason,’ he declared, ‘then do I glory in being a traitor-it is a treason I will seal with my blood.’83 This was extremely strong language to be putting one’s name to in late 1796. In the end O’Connor did not have to make the ultimate sacrifice and lived a long life in France (where he married Condorcet’s daughter). The Revd James Porter of Greyabbey, who was executed in 1798, chose a less confrontational rhetorical style. He invented the characters of Billy Bluff and his Squire as mouthpieces for a series of subversive and humorous radical dialogues.84 This device shielded Porter, who appears as the anonymous radical ‘neighbour’ of Billy Bluff, railing against the war, the tythes, the game laws, and ‘still reading the newspapers’. Billy reports a discussion between his end p.253


‘neighbour’ and a ‘Popish Priest’ to the Squire, in which the two made a series of toasts, including: ‘Prosperity to Old Ireland’, ‘Union and Peace to the people of Ireland’, ‘Every man his own road to Heaven’, and ‘Liberty to those who dare to contend for it’. To the Squire, a caricature of the Protest ant gentry, all such toasts were inevitably subversiveespecially the last one, which he saw as ‘the signal of rebellion, anarchy and confusion’. For the Squire, ‘to contend implies opposition, opposition implies resistance; resistance implies war’. Yet Porter felt it important to make some delicate distinctions between the kinds of toasts his radical characters would utter. When the squire asked Billy if they drank success to the French, Billy said no; and when asked if they had called for ‘no



more kings’, Billy replied that they had toasted ‘no more kings- to France’.85 Thus, Porter drew the line at formal republicanism in the British Isles, and while he opposed the war with France he did not support the French war effort. Whether these careful distinctions between radical reform and French republicanism were heartfelt or tactical is uncertain, but they reveal interesting gradations in late 1790s radicalism. And if the cloak of constitutionality was certainly used by some radicals in an attempt to keep on the right side of the law, this does not mean that others were not sincere in retaining some attachment to the ideal of the British constitution up to and beyond the rebellion. After the failed French invasion attempt at Bantry Bay in 1796, the governmentordered sermons to celebrate this latest ‘providential’ deliverance. The United Irishman and Dissenting minister James Porter took the opportunity to subvert the celebration in a deliberately provocative sermon to his congregation in Greyabbey. Porter cast doubt on the providential origin of the storm which scattered the French fleet, pointing out the damage also done to the British fleet and to Irish coastal communities. He argued that it was ‘equally safe and reasonable to suppose, that Satan had the command of this division of the winds’. For Porter, the general lack of British success in the war to date was in itself eloquent testimony to the level of God’s ‘approbation and assistance’. God was not quite a Frenchman, but he certainly had no interest in supporting a war at which ‘humanity shudders’ and which nine-tenths of the people of Ireland opposed. Porter, like many other radicals, thought the war with France in itself furnished good reasons for separation from England. In his sermon after the failed invasion, he argued that Ireland was only involved in the war on account of its connection to England. As a result, if England engaged in a end p.254


long and bloody war, Ireland was forced to follow to the point of ruin and exhaustion. It was beyond Porter’s ‘poor abilities to point out the benefits Ireland gets for all this’.86 Irish radicals had been making similar points for some time. Tone had done so in his pamphlet on the ‘Spanish War’ back in 1791,87 and in 1796 Russell had not only questioned the connection because of its destruction of Irish lives and property, but he asserted that England’s aggressive power would be devastated if it could not rely on Irish men and money. The obvious solution for many radicals was complete separation.88 O’Connor was one who took separation very seriously, expressing a desire for ‘the repeal of every law which binds us to England’. He also took the consequences of this theoretical independence to a logical conclusion which was even more revolutionary in terms of Anglo-Irish relations. He wished neither England nor France to be master of Ireland, and asserted her freedom to choose an alliance with either if it was in its true http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p059_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:36


interests.89 The prospect of a United Irish-led Ireland in alliance with France was being publicly aired, and by the end of 1796, if not earlier, the United Irish republican separatist position was fully developed. This is not to say that all radicals fully subscribed to it, but it had been forcefully expressed by leading United Irishmen. If we believe Samuel Neilson’s retrospective explanation of his testimony to the government as a prisoner after the rebellion, the shift to republican separatism was far from total. Neilson even asserted that no desire for separation existed ‘during the whole of the existence of the society of Dublin’, and that there were no traces of republicanism until the society had lasted ‘a considerable time’. He admitted that the society did become convinced that a republican form of government would be preferable to the present one, but went on to assert that, ‘the whole body, we are convinced, would have rejoiced to have stopped short at reform’.90 Given the circumstances of the statement itself, Neilson obviously wished to play down his radicalism, and the evidence of United Irish publications contradicts him on the issue of separatism. But as this introduction was printed four years later in America it cannot be entirely dismissed as the product of duress. It is also interesting that he would admit to republicanism while denying a desire for separation. This might suggest a residual affection for British end p.255




Small, Stephen


political and cultural traditions. Of course, by 1796, any realistic attempt to achieve even radical reform, never mind republicanism or separation, would inevitably be seen as revolutionary and would need to be so in practice. The reason for the shift to revolutionary tactics is clearly articulated by Neilson and, in this case, we have less reason to doubt its truth. The United Irishmen, he argued, ‘began to be convinced it would be as easy to obtain a revolution as a reform, so obstinately was the latter resisted’.91 Thus, when Irish radicalism entered a new republican separatist phase after 1795, it inevitably entered a revolutionary one. It seems, however, that it did so reluctantly.

VIII . RADICAL REPUBLICAN REVOLUTIONARY THEORY The conversion to revolutionary tactics required a theory justifying armed resistance or rebellion. This theory was not difficult to supply from the rich diversity of radical political languages, and while at times necessarily coded or underplayed in publications, the justifications for revolution were numerous and forceful.92 Indeed, given the trajectory of their rhetoric, their underlying principles, and the way Irish government action was conceptualized by radicals, we could ask why they took so long to become revolutionaries. Nearly all of the political languages used by radicals contained ‘revolutionary’ elements. Even ancient constitutionalism, the most inherently conservative of these languages and one which had declined in popularity in the late 1790s, could be used to justify revolution or resistance. The ‘British’ constitution had, after all, evolved via civil war, regicide, and revolution. To Sampson, ‘the grand and memorable truth in the history of the British Empire’ was that ‘every thing boasted of in our political theory’ was owing ‘to the just resistance of the people’—including ‘the title of our monarch to his throne’.93 The radicals’ classical republican inheritance also gave them a frame of reference which incorporated revolution as part of the natural order of things. Histories and theories recounting the cyclical rise and fall of states, passing through various types of government on the way, were the very stuff of their intellectual world. The concept of a decayed, corrupt state falling prey to foreign invasion or popular tumult was hardly a novel one to end p.256



educated United Irishmen. Alluding to the changing nature of human polities, Locke had observed in his Two Treatises of Government, ‘he must have lived but a little while in the World, who has not seen Examples of this in his time; and he must have read very little, who cannot produce Examples of it in all sorts of Governments in the World’.94 Although written over a century earlier, this observation was more relevant than ever. The late eighteenth century was dominated by revolutions and the education of gentlemen was still dominated by the classics. As this classical tradition was assimilated by the moderns, the revolutionary element was often enhanced further by key theorists. In the Discourses Machiavelli had pointed to the dynamic and violent tensions between the mob and the Roman elite to explain Rome’s longevity, liberty, and glory. In The Spirit of the Laws, Montesquieu, an extremely influential writer for all eighteenth-century political men of letters, also highlighted the restorative role of agitation and ‘the spirit of the people’. This last phrase appeared in radical and Patriot writing with monotonous regularity in late eighteenth-century Ireland-almost to the point of numbing us to its ultimate meaning. But surely, in the last resort, the spirit of the people must be a revolutionary spirit if all other avenues to liberty are blocked. The classical republican mentality of virtue, honour, glory, vigilance, corruption, and public spirit was ideally suited to Patriotic revolution by a citizen militia. The practical activity of Volunteering had brought life to this classical republican rhetoric of martial and civic virtue two decades earlier, and in turn Volunteering was shaped by this rhetoric. Now the conspiratorial nature of underground activity and military preparation had further ideological effects. On the one hand, the military activity radicalized the language of classical martial virtue, finally giving substance to the years of decorative rhetoric of heroic vigilance in the name of liberty. On the other, the years of rhetoric themselves inspired the militarization of the United Irishmen. It has not been sufficiently recognized by historians that the origins of physical force in Irish republicanism owe much to United Irish imitation of the classical heroes of Patriot rhetoric. Of course, it was mainly the United Irish elite who indulged in this rhetoric. For the lower levels of the United Irish /Defender alliance, tithes, taxes, the criminal code, dispossession, rents, and religion gave ample cause to take up arms. But Cincinnatus meant more than Cuchulain to the likes of Tone and O’Connor. The concept of Patriotic militarism in defence of one’s homeland, derived from classical models, was deeply embedded in Irish radical political thought. end p.257


Alluding to the Glorious Revolution, and drawing on classical republican concepts, O’Connor argued that the attempt of the executive to ‘subvert our liberties has sanctioned ONE REVOLUTION’. If the legislature now joined the executive in attempting a similar subversion through ‘more deadly corruption, they will have sanctioned http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p060_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:59


another’. O’Connor was convinced ‘that liberty must annihilate corruption, or corruption must annihilate it’ and predicted that ‘the awful moment approaches when the contest must be decided in the European world, whether liberty must sink beneath a heap of abuses ... or whether triumphant, she shall raise the oppressor and the oppressed, from the degraded position of Tyrant and Vassal, to fill the proud station of man!’95 This passage shows the quasi-millenarian element to the revolutionary justifications of some leading United Irishmen. As we have already seen, Tone thought the final victory of French revolutionary principles ‘a thing which is to be’, and O’Connor’s description had a similar inevitability, predicting a general and apocalyptic struggle for liberty. Millenarian prophecies proper did form an influential revolutionary framework, although mainly for the rank and file United Irishmen and Defenders. This mentality was often cynically manipulated by Neilson and others through the Northern Star, and most of the leadership, including Neilson, found such fantasies unappealing and unnecessary as justifications of revolutionary activity. But if the cruder religious prophecies were generally dismissed, religious considerations were important. Religious dissent, which, as we have seen, was often at the forefront of Irish radicalism, also had a long tradition of resistance to ungodly government stretching right back to Calvin’s followers. United Irish justifications for revolution often drew on these old Calvinist doctrines of resistance.96 Russell, for example, saw man as a moral agent ultimately accountable to God’s moral code. Thus, no earthly power could command man to perform immoral acts. Human laws ‘are to be obeyed so far as they consist with the Divine will and no further’. Indeed, ‘no human law can justify a breach of the law of God, and whenever laws are made in contradiction to it, they should be resisted’. ‘These propositions’, thought Russell, ‘shew how much it is the DUTY of every man in society to attend to the government of the state in which he lives.’ And in doing so he should obviously pay more attention to God’s will than to human laws. For Russell ‘this respect for, and obedience to human laws, has been one of the greatest causes of the end p.258


calamities and wickedness which fill the annals of mankind’.97 The glaring implication was that obedience to God’s will made it the duty of Irishmen to resist the unjust and barbaric human laws put in place by the government.98 Drawing partly on these Calvinist ideas to develop his natural rights theory, Locke himself also forcefully asserted the right to resistance in his Two Treatises of Government. Despite the recent reappraisals of his importance in the early and mideighteenth century (a revision given some credence for Ireland by the relatively infrequent editions of his work there before 1766), Locke’s views on resistance and revolution were seminal in late eighteenth-century English-speaking polities.99 Locke certainly qualified the right to resist, but the last two chapters of the second Treatise, on tyranny and the dissolution of government, gave Irish radicals powerful backing for http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p060_print.html（第 3／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:59


their revolution from the most respected of Whig theorists. The language of these two chapters pervaded radical rhetoric. Locke defined tyranny as the exercise of power beyond right, and as power not used for the good of those under it but for the private, separate advantage of the tyrant. This tyrant, in acting without authority and beyond the law, exercised an unjust and unlawful force which could be opposed by force. Resistance should not be used on any ‘slight occasion’, but it was warranted when these illegal acts, threatening property, liberty, religion, and life, were extended to the majority of the people or showed a tendency to do so. Furthermore, for Locke, even previously legitimate governments are dissolved if the prince or the legislative authorities act contrary to the trust given them by the people. This is done when ‘they endeavour to invade the property of the subject, and to make themselves, or any part of the Community, Masters, or Arbitrary Disposers of the Lives, Liberties, or Fortunes of the People’. It did not take too much imagination to relate these conditions to the arms searches, house burnings, arbitrary arrests, executions, torture, transportation, and impressment common in Ireland between 1793 and 1798. In such conditions, the legislators or the prince ‘forfeit the Power the People had put into their hands’. In doing so they also ‘put themselves into a state of War with the People, who are thereupon absolved from any farther Obedience’. Locke himself anticipated the objection that this doctrine provided cause for frequent rebellion. He responded by pointing out that ‘such end p.259


Revolutions happen not upon every little mismanagement in publick affairs’, which ‘will be born by the People’, but only ‘if a long train of Abuses, Prevarications, and Artifices, all tending the same way, make the design visible to the people, and they cannot but feel what they lie under, and see, wither they are going’. In these cases it was not to be wondered ‘that they should then rouze themselves, and endeavour to put the rule into such hands, which may secure to them the ends for which Government was first erected’. In such cases, thought Locke, the people will look for any opportunity to relieve the burden, and given the changeable nature of human affairs these are seldom long in coming.100 In a similar vein, Priestley also offered a clear justification for revolution in extremis. If ‘strong remonstrances’ to their governors fail, the people ‘may strip them of their power, and confer it where they have reason to hope it will be less abused’.101 These Lockean justifications for revolution were often framed by a narrative of suffering which pointed out the consequences for reactionaries who refused to reform. And while these took the form of a cautionary tale, they also functioned as a justification for rebellion. As we saw above, the many injustices inflicted on the people had pushed them to the limit of their endurance. These injustices were also portrayed as sufficient causes in themselves of popular tumult and revolution. In this rhetorical mode, the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p060_print.html（第 4／5 页）2011/9/22 19:14:59


United Irishmen posed as impartial, Patriotic observers reluctantly fulfilling their obligation of vigilance in the public interest. Of course such ‘impartial’ observations, as the radicals well knew, also operated as justification of popular unrest. When Sampson asked the elite in his Advice to the Rich, whether they thought it wise ‘by fresh executions ... to add to the number of those who will be too apt to hold in their mind the stimulating recollection of a brother, a father, or a friend, ignominiously hanged upon a tree or mangled on a scaffold?’ he was giving powerful reasons for violent rebellion as well as offering impartial advice. Questions like the one below did not require answers: they had other functions. Assuming the air of a biblical prophet, Sampson was warning those with a stake in the country that they had much to lose and nothing to gain by repression, ‘Are you at length convinced that it is not spectacles of terror, nor reeking gibbets ... nor armed hordes, nor sanguinary codes, that can give peace to Ireland? Have you not seen the spirit of discontent encrease naturally as the causes of it were multiplied?’102 Such measures precipitated rather than end p.260




Small, Stephen


prevented rebellion, he argued, and the violence of the inevitable transition from despotism to liberty, he warned, would be in direct proportion to the degradation and sense of injury felt by the people. By banishing ‘the more generous sensations of humanity’ repression had created the conditions for a particularly bloody and cruel revolution which would destroy the corrupt supporters of government.103 In many respects, the remarkable feature of the United Irishmen’s ideological transition to revolutionary republicanism, therefore, is that it took so long to happen.104 Given the theories employed by the radicals they could have put an internally consistent case forward for revolution as far back as the mid-i78os. Once again, perhaps Locke’s discussion of the right of resistance can shed some light on the motivations of these reluctant revolutionaries: People are not so easily got out of their old Forms.... They are hardly to be prevailed with to amend the acknowledg’d faults, in the frame [of government] they have been accustom’d to. And if there be any Original defects, or adventitious ones introduced by time, or corruption; ‘tis not an easie thing to get them changed, even when all the world sees there is an opportunity for it. This slowness and aversion in the People to quit their old Constitutions, has in the many Revolutions which have been seen in this Kingdom ... still kept us to, or after some interval of fruitless attempts, still brought us back again to our old Legislative of King, Lords and Commons.105

IX . CONCLUSION During the 1790s Irish radical republicanism emerged from the radical edge of a broad Whiggish and Patriot tradition. This tradition began to fragment rapidly in 1791 under the impact of the increasingly radical French Revolution, and the debate over Burke’s Reflections and Paine’s Rights of Man. As Irish politics polarized, the prospect arose of an anti-Ascendancy alliance between newly assertive Catholics and radical Patriots. But despite the novelty of this alliance, its aims were seen by radicals as perfectly compatible with, and indeed necessary for the survival of, the British constitution. The key policies of Catholic emancipation and parliamentary reform came from a desire to protect balanced government, to root out corruption, to preserve the true spirit of the British constitution, and to end p.261




defend the rights and commerce of Ireland. As in the 1780s, the pamphlets and speeches of radical Irishmen in the 1790s were littered with Real Whig rhetoric which ranged virtue against vice, liberty against slavery, popular will against arbitrary tyranny, and citizen militias against standing armies. The early United Irish analysis abhorred English influence in Irish government, but was not anti-English in any fundamental or racial sense. The United Irishmen saw themselves as part of a libertyloving, British Whig tradition which had important roots in Protestant constitutionalism and they even occasionally lauded the seventeenth-century English heroes who created it. They wanted Ireland to be an improved, commercial society enjoying all the benefits of participation in the British Empire while retaining its political independence. They came to praise the English constitution not to bury it. After the outbreak of war and the French regicide in early 1793, however, such aspirations for the constitution were seen as far from constitutional by the government. Radical rhetoric, often little altered since the 1780s, now embodied ‘French principles’ in loyalist eyes. Reform was seen as dangerous innovation. Liberty became a cloak for licence. ‘The people’ became simply a dangerous mob. The consequence of this disagreement over the Whig inheritance was profound. It provoked an ideological struggle over the very meaning of the constitution and a linguistic struggle over the key words surrounding it. This struggle and the accompanying repression eventually caused some radicals to reassess Whiggish and constitutional principles in a more fundamental way. A few rejected them outright, but most tenaciously held on to an increasingly radical understanding of them. The emphasis on popular sovereignty, natural rights and separation from Britain increased, and the United Irishmen became revolutionary republicans. But they did so by developing, not by abandoning the Patriotic rhetoric of the 1770s and 1780s. Despite their influence, they did not need French and Painite ideas to do so. These were added stimulants, but the basic theoretical framework in place since the 1770s contained the seeds of this revolutionary republicanism. In the summer of 1798, the rebellion finally came. It has been estimated that up to 30,000 people may have died in the rebellion-a higher total than in any other single episode of civil unrest in the British Isles since the seventeenth century.106 But it was not the rebellion planned by the radical end p.262


republican Patriots. The capture of most of its leadership shortly before the rising threw their plans into chaos, and the ensuing series of separate regional risings had little chance of success without effective central leadership. Some very limited French help arrived later in the year, but it was too little too late. The leadership of the United Irishmen had hoped to replace the existing government with an independent, http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p061_print.html（第 2／5 页）2011/9/22 19:15:20


democratic, secular republic. But this non-sectarian ideal was negated by the need to procure the support of the peasantry, which in turn involved the intensification of sectarian hatreds. The violence and renewed religious animosity stoked by the rebellion signalled the demise of Irish Patriotism and the ultimate failure of the radical republican goal to unite Irishmen of different creeds in a free and independent Ireland. end p.263


Conclusion Stephen Small

In the late 1770s, the American Revolution encouraged the combination of an array of political languages into a powerful Irish Patriotism focused on the unsatisfactory connection with Britain. Patriots used ancient constitutional arguments to attack the British government’s denial of the traditional ‘English’ birthrights of Irishmen. The British trade restrictions on Ireland generated a rhetoric of commercial grievance which reflected the Irish desire to become an ‘improved’, progressive, and commercial people. Classical republican rhetoric assailed the imbalances and corruption of an Irish government controlled by British influence and sought remedies in civic virtue, personal independence, and martial spirit. Natural rights arguments increasingly asserted national and individual liberties. And underlying all these languages lay a denial of Catholic political capacity that justified the maintenance of Protestant political superiority. Classical republicanism was especially important to this Patriotism, and the Volunteers became both the contemporary embodiment of ancient martial virtue and proof that such virtue could defend the rights of Ireland. While Irish Patriotism was focused on Britain during the agitation for free trade and legislative independence, these languages formed a loose consensus. But they were full of contradictions, containing the seeds of radical reform, Catholic emancipation, and republican separatism, as well as justifications for elitist politics and Protestant Ascendancy. These tensions soon emerged in the 1780s once the focus of Patriots shifted to Ireland during the campaign for parliamentary reform and the Tithe Dispute. When the pressure of the French Revolution brought them to a head in the 1790s, they split Patriotism asunder and shattered its broad, Whiggish political discourse. War, repression, and popular unrest forced Patriots to take sides on the crucial issues of popular sovereignty, Catholic citizenship, and separation from Britain. From the intense polarization and conflict that ensued, one branch of Patriotism grew into radical republicanism. Essentially, Patriotism fragmented because of disagreements over religion and the political role of ‘the people’. The origins of this can be seen in the 1780s, when the classical republican dictates of virtue, rationality, and independence caused profound problems for Protestant Patriots who saw the majority of the people as wretched, ill-



educated, and superstitious. This combination of classical republicanism and Protestant superiority was end p.264


highly influential yet inherently unsuitable for an inclusive Patriotism in such a divided society. At this point most Patriots were extremely reluctant to include the Catholic masses in the political nation. Yet this view increasingly clashed with radical readings of natural rights, which minimized the importance of religion and supported universal suffrage. When the French Revolution raised the prospect of social revolution and Catholic political power, those Protestant Patriots who could not suppress or abandon their mentality of Protestant superiority were pushed towards loyal defence of the Protestant Ascendancy (or pushed out of active politics). Those who could moved tentatively towards full Catholic citizenship, radical parliamentary reform, and even republican separatism. Some radical Patriots took natural rights seriously and followed Paine in becoming egalitarian, anti-monarchical republicans. But their classical republicanism did not translate easily into Painite republicanism. Genuine democracy, popular sovereignty, and the rejection of the hereditary principle sat uncomfortably with the virtuous, independent, property-owning elitism at the heart of classical republicanism. Hence, some radicals gradually abandoned the more elitist classical ideas that had been so instrumental in the formation of their Patriot ideology. Yet elements of classical republicanism lived on in radical republicanism. Corruption, liberty, and balanced government remained key themes, virtue was simply democratized, and the obsession with citizen militias continued to pervade its public language. Many other elements of the old Patriot languages also survived. Ancient constitutional arguments based overtly on English or Protestant rights did become less common as radicals sought to establish an inclusive Irish identity that would appeal to Catholics. But many continued to use the rhetoric of constitutional renovation right up to 1798 and beyond. Religious unity and Catholic emancipation had largely replaced Protestant superiority in their public rhetoric, but in private many Protestant radicals retained deep suspicions of Catholic character which they carried through the 1790s. And the desire to make Ireland a rich, commercial country continued to be highly influential in all forms of Patriot, radical, and republican thought throughout the decade. Even those who criticized the rich and called for social justice never criticized commerce and its power to improve Ireland. Revealingly, this was the only Patriot language to emerge unscathed at the end of the period. Hence, when the revolutionary storm came, few Irish radicals wished to lay the axe to the tree of the constitution. A few Painite republicans did seek its destruction and replacement with a new tree of liberty. Most simply



end p.265




Small, Stephen

Political Thought in Ireland 1776-1798 Print ISBN 9780199257799, 2002 pp. [266]

wanted to lop off a tangled mass of rotten limbs to restore its old shape and let in enlightening rays from America and France. In trying to do so they nearly brought the whole tree crashing down, but this should not disguise the fact that 1790s radicalism always remained connected to the twisted roots of an earlier Patriotism. end p.266


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Enrico, A Letter addressed to James Napper Tandy, Esq; Chairman of the Aggregate Assembly, at the Exchange, on March 24, 1790 (Dublin, 1790). An Essay on the Act of Poynings, and the present mode of appeal. Addressed to the Rt. Hon. William Eden, previous to his becoming a member of the Parliament of Ireland (Dublin, 1781). An Essay on the Necessity of Protecting Duties (Dublin, 1783). An Essay on the True Interests and Resources of the Empire of the King of Great-Britain and Ireland, by the Earl of A__h (Dublin, 1783). To Every Moderate Man in Ireland... the Protestant Interest in Ireland Ascertained (Dublin, 1792). Examinator’s Letters, or a mirror for British Monopolists and Irish Financiers (Dublin, 1786). A Fair Exposition of the Principles of the Whig Club; with some cursory observations on a pamphlet entitled, ‘Thoughts on a Letter to Mr. Conolly’. By an Irishman (Dublin, 1790). A Familiar and Serious Address to the Freeholders and Electors in Ireland. By a Friend of the Public (Dublin, 1775). Farral, Revd, Philoneika; or an answer to Mr. O’Leary’s remarks on the Rev. Mr. Wesley’s letter (Dublin, 1780). Ferguson, Adam, An Essay on the History of Civil Society (1767), ed. D. Forbes (Edinburgh, 1966). First Report of the Volunteers, at Dungannon, 15th February 1782 (Dublin, 1782). [Fitzwilliam, Earl], A Letter from a Venerated Nobleman who recently retired from this country, to the Earl of Carlisle. Explaining the causes of that event (Dublin, London reprinted, 1795). [Fitzwilliam, Earl] A Letter From Earl Fitzwilliam, recently retired from this country, to the http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p069_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:18:52


Earl of Carlisle: explaining the causes of that event (2nd edn., London, 1795). Flood, Henry, The Speech and Propositions of the Right Honourable Henry Flood, in the House of Commons of Great Britain, Thursday, March 4th, 1790, on a reform of the representation in Parliament (Dublin, 1790). [Flood, Henry], A Letter to the People of Ireland on the expediency and necessity of the present associations in Ireland in favour of our own Manufacturers with some cursory observations on the effects of a Union (Dublin, 1779). Free Thoughts upon the Present Crisis, in which are stated the fundamental principles upon which alone Ireland can or ought to agree to any final settlement with Great Britain. In a letter from a country gentleman to the People of Ireland (Dublin, 1785). The French Constitution of September 1791 (Dublin, 1791). G__, B__, Gent., The People of Ireland not a parcel of lazy, incorrigible scoundrels (Dublin, 1779). Gay, N., A Letter to W. Tighe, Esq. upon the Subject of Absentees (2nd edn., Dublin, 1781). Gibbon, Edward, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ed. J. B. Bury (7 vols., London, 1901). end p.273




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The Glorious Revolutions of 1782. A Heroic Poem. In Two Parts, by a Lady (Dublin, 1782). Goldsmith, Oliver, The Citizen of the World (London, 1762). Goold, Thomas, A Vindication of the Rt. Hon. Edmund Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France, in answer to all his opponents (Dublin, 1791). Gracchus [Bruce, William], The History of the Last Session in Parliament, addressedto the Right Hon. the Earl of Charlemont (Dublin, 1784). Grace, George, A Short Plea for Human Nature and Common Sense. In which it is attempted to state a few general principles for the direction of our judgement of THE PRESENT STATE OF THE CHURCH OF IRELAND, as described by the Lord Bishop of Cloyne (Dublin, 1787). Grattan, Henry, Mr. Grattan ‘s Answer to his Constituents, the citizens of Dublin, on his determination to retire from the Parliament of Ireland (London, 1797). Grattan, Henry A Full Report of the Speech of the Right Hon. Henry Grattan, in the House of Commons, on Thursday the 14th of February, 1788, in the Debate of Tithes. Taken in shorthand by Mr. Franklin (Dublin, 1788). Grattan, Henry Observations on the Mutiny Bill with some strictures on Lord Buckinghamshire’s administration in Ireland (Dublin printed, London reprinted, 1781). Grattan, Henry The Speeches of the Rt. Hon. H. Grattan, in the Irish and the Imperial Parliament, ed. Grattan, H., the Younger (4 vols., London, 1822). Graydon, Robert, The Practical Arrangement of a Design Lately Published for Promoting and Extending the Establishment of Manufactures in Ireland (Dublin, 1784). Grazier, Thoughts on the Present Alarming Crisis of Affairs humbly submitted to the serious consideration of the People of Ireland (Dublin, 1779). Griffith, Amyas, Miscellaneous Tracts (Dublin, 1788). Griffith, Amyas Observations on the Bishop ofCloyne’s Pamphlet: in which the doctrine of http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p070_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:19:16


tithes is candidly considered, and proved to be oppressive and impolitic: his... arguments for the insecurity of the Protestant Religion, are also demonstrated to be groundless and visionary (Dublin, 1787). Hamilton, Revd William, Letters on the Principles of the French Democracy, and their Application and Influence on the Constitution and Happiness of Britain and Ireland (Dublin, 1792). Harrington, James, The Commonwealth ofOceana (1656), in J. G. A. Pocock (ed.), The Political Works of James Harrington (Cambridge, 1977). Hely-Hutchinson, John, The Commercial Restraints of Ireland (Dublin, 1779). Hely-Hutchinson, John Letter to the Mayor of Cork (Dublin, 1795). The History of the Proceedings and Debates of the Volunteer Delegates of Ireland, on the subject of a Parliamentary Reform (Dublin, 1784). Houlton, Robert, A Selection of Political Letters... under the signatures ofJunius-Brutus, Hampden, the Constitutional Watchman, and Lucius Hibernicus (Dublin, 1782). An Humble Address to the Most High, Most Mighty, and Most Puissant. The Sovereign People (Dublin, 1793). end p.274




Small, Stephen


An Inquiry into the Moral and Political Tendency of the Religion called Roman Catholic (Dublin, 1790). Irish Helot, Vindiciae Catholicae. A full defence of the Declaration of the Catholic Society of Dublin, in reply to an anonymous pamphlet, entitled ‘Strictures on the declaration of the Society...’ (Dublin, 1792). Irishman, An Answer to the Right Hon. Edmund Burke’s Reflections of the Revolution in France, with some remarks on the present state of the Irish constitution. By an Irishman (Dublin, 1791). Irishman, A Defence of Great Britain against a charge of Tyranny in the government of Ireland, By an Irishman. to which are added two letters in answer, by Lucius Hibernicus and Sarsfield, and a reply By a Real Irishman (Dublin, 1779). The Irish Protest to the Ministerial Manifesto contained in the address of the British Parliament to the King (Dublin, 1785). Jackson, Revd William, Observations in Answer to Mr. Thomas Paine’s ‘Age of Reason’ (Dublin, 1795). [Jebb, Dr Frederick], Considerations of the Expediency of a National Bank (Dublin, 1780). [Jebb, Dr Frederick], The Letters ofGuatimozin on the Affairs of Ireland (Dublin, 1779). [Jebb, Dr Frederick] Strictures on a Pamphlet lately published, entitled, ‘Considerations submitted to the People of Ireland...’ (Dublin, 1781). John Bull, A Letter from Mr. John Bull, of London, to Mr. Paddy Whack of Dublin (Dublin, 1792). [Johnson, John], The Account Settled, or a Balance Struck between the Irish Propositions ... and the English Resolutions... with the Petitions of the Merchants of the Chamber of Commerce of the City of Dublin (Dublin, 1785). Johnson, Samuel, A Dictionary of the English Language, ed. R. W. Burchfield (London, 1979). http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p071_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:19:39


Jones, William Todd, A Letter to the Societies of United Irishmen of the Town of Belfast, upon the Subject of Certain Apprehensions which have Arisen from a Proposed Restoration of Catholic Rights (Dublin, 1792). Jones, William Todd Letter to the Volunteers, reviewed at Belfast on the 12th of July, 1784 (Dublin reprinted, 1792). Jones, William Todd Reply to an Anonymous Writer from Belfast, signed Portia. To which is prefixed Portia’s original Letter (Dublin, 1792). Junius Hibernicus, Candid Reflections for the People of Ireland (Dublin, 1793). Kearney, Michael, D.D., Lectures Concerning History read during the year 1775 in Trinity College Dublin (Dublin, 1775). Keogh, John, Thoughts on Equal Representation with hints for improving the Manufactures and Employment of the poor of Ireland (Dublin, 1784). Knox, William, A Letter to the People of Ireland, upon the intended application of the Roman Catholics to Parliament for the exercise of the elective franchise (Dublin, 1793). Knox, William The State of Ireland (Dublin, 1778). end p.275




Small, Stephen


Law, Revd Robert, The Moral Duties Necessary to Secure the Advantages of a Free Trade: with a caution against some abuses to which the beginnings of manufactures and commerce are peculiarly exposed. A sermon in two parts (Dublin, 1780). A Letter from an Irish Gentleman in London, to his friend in Dublin, on the proposed system of commerce (Dublin, 1785). A Letter from Lord deClifford to the Worthy and Independent Electors of the Town of Downpatrick. With pertinent queries to the electors of the county of Down (Hillsborough, 1790). A Letter to the Earl ofMoira in Defence of the conduct of His Majesty’s Ministers, and of the army in Ireland (London, 1797). A Letter to Henry Flood, Esq. on the Present State of Representation in Ireland (Belfast, 1783). A Letter to the Most Noble Marquis of Waterford on Catholic Emancipation, by a Protestant (Waterford, 1793). Letter to the Right Honourable The Earl of Hillsborough ... on the Present State of Affairs in Ireland. And an Address to the People of that Kingdom (Dublin, 1780). A Letter to a Venerated Nobleman lately retired from this Kingdom (Dublin, 1795). A Letter to William Eden, Esq. Occasioned by a Pamphlet commonly attributed to him, and entitled, Considerations submitted to the People on their Present Condition with regard to trade and Constitution (Dublin, 1781). Letters of a Dungannon and Munster Delegate, which appeared shortly after the plan of Parliamentary reform, proposed by the Grand National Convention (Dublin, 1784). Letters of an Impartial Observer, on the Affairs of Ireland. Addressed to a Gentleman in Dublin (Dublin, 1793). Lewis, R., The Candid Philosopher: or, Free thoughts on men, morals and manners (2 vols., Dublin, 1778). http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p072_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:20:04


Leyal, P., Letters Lately Printed in the FREEMAN’s and HIBERNIAN JOURNALS, under the signature of P. LEYAL addressed to his grace the Duke ofLeinster (Dublin, 1780). Locke, John, Two Treatises of Government, ed. P. Laslett (Cambridge, 1960). Machiavelli, The Discourses, ed. B. Crick (Harmondsworth, 1970). Mckenna, Theobald, Address to the Roman Catholics of Ireland, Relative to the late proceedings, and on the means and practicability of a tranquil emancipation (Dublin, 1792). [Mckenna, Theobald], Declaration ofthe Catholic Society of Dublin (Dublin, 1791). Mckenna, Theobald An Essay on Parliamentary Reform and on the Evils likely to Ensue from a Republican Constitution in Ireland (Dublin, 1793). Mckenna, Theobald Some Thoughts on the Present Politics of Ireland(Dublin, 1792). Macmahon, Thomas O’Brien, Remarks on the English and Irish Nations (London, 1777, reprinted Dublin, 1792). Mann, Isaac, Bp. of Cork and Ross, A Sermon preached at Ch. Ch., Dublin on the 15th. May, 1774 ... For Promoting English Protestant schools in Ireland (Dublin, 1775). end p.276




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Maurice, Revd Thomas, IERNE REDIVIVA: An Ode Inscribed to the Volunteers of Ireland (Dublin, 1782). Memmius, The Voice of the People, in a letter to the secretary of His Grace the Duke of Portland. By a private volunteer (Dublin, 1784). Moderate dissenter, The New Year’s Gift; or six penny-worth of information: in an address to the plain, sober reflection of every description of Irishmen against modern reformers. By a moderate dissenter (Dublin, 1794). Moira, Earl, Speech of Earl Moira on the Present Alarming and Dreadful State of Ireland, in the House of Lords on Wednesday, November 22, 1797 (London, 1797). Molesworth, Robert, Mr. Molesworth’s Preface [to an Account of Danemark as it was in the year 1692]. With Historical and Political Remarks, To which is added, A true state of his case with respect to the Irish Convention (London, 1713). Molesworth, Robert, ‘The Translator’s Preface’ to Hotmann’s Franco-Gallia (London, 1721). Molloy, Tobias, An Appeal From Man in a State of Civil Society to Man in a State of Nature; or an inquiry into the origin and organization of those political incorporations most productive of human happiness (Dublin, 1792). Molyneux, Capel, A Warm Appeal to the Freemen of Ireland on the Present Interesting Crisis of Affairs (Dublin, 1784). Molyneux, William, The Case of Ireland’s Being Bound by Acts of Parliament in England, Stated (Dublin, 1698). Morgell, Thomas, A Translation of ‘Ten Minutes Conversation between a Democrat and an Aristocrat in Illustration of the Jacobite Doctrine’ (Paris, 1794?). Morres, Hervey Redmond, Visc. Mountmorres, Plain Reasons for New-Modelling Poynings Law, in such a manner as to assert the ancient rights of the two houses of parliament, without entrenching on the King’s Prerogative (Dublin, 1780). Musgrave, Sir Richard, Bart., A Letter on the Present Situation of Public Affairs (Dublin, http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p073_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:20:43


1795). Nassau, Revd John, The Cause of the Roman Catholics Pleaded, in an address to the Protestants of Ireland (Dublin, 1792). Neilson, Samuel, Brief Statement of a Negociation between certain United Irishmen and the Irish Government in July 1798 (New York, 1802). Observations on the Finances and Trade of Ireland, humbly addressed to the immediate consideration of Gentlemen of Landed interest, more particularly to members of the House of Commons (Dublin, 1775). Observations on the Letters of Lord Fitzwilliam to Lord Carlisle, with the Proceedings of the Dublin Catholics (Dublin, 1795). Observations upon the Oath of Allegiance (n.p., 1797). Observations on the Vindication of the Whig Club. To which are subjoined, the speech of the Lord Chancellor... the Vindication of the Whig Club, and a letter signed Truth (Dublin, 1790). O’Connor, Arthur, A Letter to the Earl of Carlisle, occasioned by his lordship’s reply to Earl Fitzwilliam’s two letters (London, 1795). O’Connor, Arthur A Letter to the Electors of Antrim (Dublin, 1797). end p.277




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O’Connor, Arthur, Speech in the House of Commons of Ireland, Monday, May, 1795 on the Catholic Bill (Dublin printed, London reprinted, 1795). O’Flattery, Patrick [pseud.], The Beauties of Mr. Orde’s Bill; being extracts from certain private speeches of the following gentlemen in opposition: Mr. Grattan, Mr. Flood... (Dublin, 1785). Old Volunteer, A Reprimand for the Volunteer Army of Ireland. Dedicated to his Excellency the Earl of Charlemont. By an Old Volunteer (Dublin, 1790). O’Leary, Arthur, Mr. O‘Leary‘s Defence: containing a vindication of his conduct and writings during the late disturbances in Munster with a full justification of the Catholics, and An Account of the Risings of the White-boys (Dublin, 1787). O’Leary, Arthur Remarks on the Rev. Mr. Wesley’s Letters, in defence of the Protestant Associations in England (Dublin, 1780). Mr. Paddy Whack’s Answer to John Bull (Dublin, 1792). Paddy Whack’s Second Letter to Mr. John Bull (Dublin, 1792). Paine, Thomas, Agrarian Justice (1796), in Rights of Man, Common Sense, and Other Political Works, ed. M. Philp (Oxford, 1995). Paine, Thomas, Common Sense (1776), ed. I. Kramnick (London, 1976). Paine, Thomas, Reasons for Preserving the Life of Louis Capet (1793), in The Thomas Paine Reader, ed. M. Foot and I. Kramnick (London, 1987). Paine, Thomas, The Rights of Man, Parts I and II (1791–2), in Rights of Man, Common Sense and Other Political Writings, ed. M. Philp (Oxford, 1995). [Parsons, Sir Lawrence], A Dissertation upon the Perpetual Mutiny Bill. By a Gentleman ofT. C.D. (Dublin, 1781). Parsons, Sir Lawrence, Mr. Parsons’ Speech in the House of Commons, the fifth of March, 1790, on the Pension Bill (Dublin, 1790). http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p074_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:21:08


Parsons, Sir Lawrence, Thoughts on Liberty and Equality. By a Member of Parliament (Dublin, 1793). The Patriot Soldier; or, Irish Volunteer. A Poem. By a member of the Belfast First Volunteer Company (Belfast, 1789). The Petition of the Catholics of Ireland, to the King’s Most Excellent Majesty: Presented at St. James’ on Wednesday Jan. 2, 1793 (Dublin, 1793). Petition of the Roman Catholics of Ireland Intended to have been presented to Parliament in February 1792. With apreface (Dublin, 1792). A Plain Address to the People of Ireland, on the possible event of a French invasion, shewing its natural consequences, with the true interests and duty of every man in the state, in such an eventual case. By a Country Gentleman (Dublin, 1796). A Plain and Affectionate Address to the Shop-keepers, Manufacturers, Artificers, and Traders, of this City and Kingdom (Dublin, 1780). Plain Truth, A Political Dissertation Addressed to the Thinking part of the Community (Dublin, 1792). A Plan for Finally Settling the Government of Ireland upon Constitutional Principles: and the chiefcause ofthe unprosperous state ofthat country explained (Dublin, 1785). Pollock, Joseph, Letters to the Inhabitants of the Town and Lordship of Newry (Dublin, 1793). end p.278




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[Pollock, Joseph], The Letters of Owen Roe O’Nial (Dublin, 1779). Polybius, The Histories, tr. W. R. Paton (6 vols., London, 1923). Porter, James, Paddy’s Resource. Being a collection of original and patriotic songs, toasts and sentiments, compiled for the use of the people of Ireland (n.p., 1795). Porter, James Wind and Weather, a sermon on the providential storm which dispersed the French Fleet offBantry Bay. Preached to the congregation of Gray-Abbey, on the Thursday the 16th February, being the first day appointed by government for thanksgiving (Belfast, 1797). Postscript of a Letter Addressed to the Rt. Hon. Thomas Conolly, Secretary to the Whig Club (Dublin, 1790). Presbyterio-Catholicon: or a refutation of the modern Catholic doctrines, propagated by several societies of Catholic Presbyterians, and Presbyterian Catholics, in a Letter to the real Roman Catholics of Ireland (Dublin, 1791). Preston, William, The Contrast: or, a comparison between the characters of the English and the Irish in the year 1780. A Poem (Dublin, 1780). Porter, William Democratic Rage; or, Louis the Unfortunate. A Tragedy (Dublin printed, Cork reprinted, 1793). Price, Richard, Additional Observations on ... Civil Liberty and the War with America (London, 1777). Price, Richard, -A Discourse on the Love of Our Country (London, 1790). Price, Richard, Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty (1776), in Richard Price: Political Writings, ed. D. O. Thomas (Cambridge, 1991). Priestley, Joseph, Essay on the First Principles of Government (1768), in Joseph Priestley: Political Writings, ed. P. Millar (Cambridge, 1993). Priestley, Joseph, The Present State of Liberty in Great Britain and her Colonies (1769), in http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p075_print.html（第 1／2 页）2011/9/22 19:21:30


Joseph Priestley: Political Writings, ed. P. Millar (Cambridge, 1993). Prior, Thomas [updated by Morres, Redmond], A List of the Absentees of Ireland and an Estimate of the Yearly Value oftheir Estates and Incomes (6th edn., Dublin, 1783). Pro Aris et Focis: The Important Question Stated (1644, Dublin reprinted, 1780). Pro Patria, Preparation for Receiving the English Answer to the Demands of the Irish Parliament. signed Pro Patria (Dublin, 1782). Proceedings at the Catholic Meeting of Dublin, Wednesday October 31, 1792... with the Letter of the Corporation of Dublin, to the Protestants ofIreland (Dublin, 1792). Proceedings Relative to the Ulster Assembly of Volunteer Delegates on the subject of a more equal representation of the people in the Parliament of Ireland (Belfast, 1783). Raynal, Abbe, Sentiments of a Foreigner on the Disputes of Great Britain and America (Philadelphia and Belfast, 1775). Reasons for a Declaration of Rights, in Answer to what hath been advanced on that subject, in a pamphlet lately published, entitled, a review of the three great national questions (Dublin, 1782). A Reform of the Irish House of Commons Considered (Dublin, 1783). Remarks on Mr. Paine’s pamphlet called the Rights of Man. In a Letter to a Friend (Dublin, 1791). end p.279




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A Report of the Debate in the House of Commons of Ireland, on the Bill presented by the Right Hon. Henry Grattan, ‘For the Further Relief of his Majesty’s Popish or Roman Catholic Subjects’ (Dublin, 1795). A Report of the Debates in both Houses of the Parliament of Ireland, on the Roman Catholic Bill, passed in the session of 1792 (Dublin, 1792). A Report on the Debates on the Roman Catholic Bill, 1792 (Dublin, 1792). Report of the Trial of Archibald Hamilton Rowan, Esq.... for the Distribution of a Libel (Dublin, 1794). A Review of the Strictures on the Declaration of the Catholic Society (Dublin, 1792). The Rights of Citizens (Dublin, 1793). Roebuck, John, An Enquiry whether the guilt of the present civil war in America ought to be imputed to Great Britain or America (Dublin, 1776). Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, A Discourse on Political Economy (1758), in The Social Contract and Discourses, tr. G. D. H. Cole (London, 1973). Russell, Thomas, A Letter to the People of Ireland, on the Present Situation of the Country (Belfast, 1796). Russell, Thomas, The Journals and Memoirs of Thomas Russell, ed. C. J. Woods (Dublin, 1991). St John, Henry, Visc. Bolingbroke, The Idea of a Patriot King (1738), in Works, ed. D. Mallet (5 vols., London, 1754; reprinted Darmstadt, 1968). St John, Henry, A Letter on the Spirit of Patriotism (1736), in Works, ed. D. Mallet (5 vols., London, 1754; reprinted Darmstadt, 1968). [Sampson, William], Advice to the Rich: in a series of letters, originally published in the Northern Star: By an Independent Country Gentleman (Belfast, 1796).



[Sampson, William, and Russell, Thomas], Review of the Lion of Old England, or the democracy confounded (2nd edn., Belfast, 1794). Scott, Revd John Robert, The Citizen Soldier. A sermon preached at the chapel of the Marine School, before his grace the Duke ofLeinster, and the Regiment of Dublin Volunteers commanded by him, on Sunday, November the 8th, 1780 (2nd edn., Dublin, 1780). Seasonable Advice to the People of Ireland, during the present recess of Parliament (Dublin, 1780). Seasonable and Affecting Observations on the Mutiny Bill, Articles of War, and Use and Abuse of a Standing Army: in a letter from a Member of Parliament to a Noble Lord (Dublin, 1780). The Sentimental and Masonic Magazine, July 1792 (Dublin, 1792). A Serious Address to the Gentlemen of Ireland, on the present state of affairs. By a Friend to the Country (Dublin, 1783). Serle, Ambrose, Americans Against Liberty (London and Dublin, 1775). Seward, W. W., The Rights of the People Asserted, and the necessity of a more equal representation in parliament stated and proved (Dublin, 1783). Sharp, Granville, A Declaration of the People’s Natural Right to a share in the Legislature (2nd edn., Dublin, 1776). Sheridan, Charles Francis, A History of the Late Revolution in Sweden (Dublin, 1778). end p.280




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Sheridan, Charles Francis, Observations on the Doctrine laid down by Blackstone (Dublin, 1779). Sheridan, Charles Francis, A Review of the Three Great National Questions, relative to a Declaration of Right, Poynings Law, and the Mutiny Bill (Dublin, 1781). Sheridan, Charles Francis, The Roman Catholic Claim to the Elective Franchise Discussed, in an Essay upon the True Principles of Civil Liberty and of Free Government (Dublin, 1793). Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, The Legislative Independence of Ireland Vindicated in a Speech of Mr. Sheridan ‘son the Irish Propositions in the British House ofCommons on the 30th of May, 1785... & Twenty Resolutions on the Irish Commercial Intercourse (Dublin, 1785). A Short Address to the People of Ireland. Sic vos non vobis (Dublin?, 1780). A Short History of Opposition, to the present time; in a letter to a member of parliament (Dublin, 1796). [Smyth, William], Rights of Citizens, being an examination of Mr. Paine’s principles, touching government. By a Barrister (Dublin, 1791). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, An Address of the Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, to Joseph Priestley, L.D.D. (London, 1794). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, Address of the United Irishmen of Dublin to the Friends of the People in London (London, 1793). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, Address to the People in Justification of the Plan of Reform (1794), in Let the Nation Stand. The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, Let the Nation Stand (Dublin, 1794). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, A Plan of an Equal Representation of the people of Ireland in the House of Commons. Prepared for Public Consideration by the Society of United Irishmen of Dublin (Dublin, 1794).



The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, Plan of Parliamentary Reform (Dublin, 1794). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, The Report of a Committee Appointed by the United Irishmen of Dublin, ‘To Enquire and Report the Popery Laws in Force in this Realm’ (Dublin, 1792). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, The Resolutions and Oath of the United Irishmen of Dublin and Belfast (Dublin, 1792). The Society of United Irishmen of Dublin, To the Irish Nation (1793) in Let the Nation Stand. Some Authentic Minutes of the Proceedings of a Very Respectable Assembly, On the 20th of December, 1779 (Dublin, 1779). Some Thoughts on the General Improvement of Ireland, with a scheme of a society, for carrying on all improvements (2nd edn., Dublin, 1780). Songs of the French Revolution. That took place at Paris, I4thjuly, 1789; Sung atthe celebrations thereof at Belfast on Saturday, 14th July, 1792 (n.p., Belfast?, 1792). Spirit of Loyalty, or the Williamite (n.p., n.d., 1797?). Stokes, Gabriel, Love of our Country, distinguished from false pretences; a sermon preached in the Cathedral ofWaterford, January 1797, 15th, being the first Sunday after it was ascertained that the invading fleet had entirely quit (Dublin, 1797). Strictures on a Late Pamphlet Entitled Plain Arguments, & c. in Defence of the Peoples Absolute Dominion over the Constitution (Dublin, 1784). The Strong-Box Opened:, or, a fund at home for the immediate employment of our people, and for preventing emigration. Inscribed to D-n-sD-ly, Esq. (Dublin, 1780). end p.281




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Swift, Jonathan, The Drapier’s Letters, Letter IV, To the Whole People of Ireland (1724). Swift, Jonathan, A Proposal for the Universal Use ofIrish Manufacture (1720). Swift, Jonathan, A Short View of the State ofIreland (1727). Swift, Jonathan, The Story of the Injured Lady (1707), all in Swift’s Irish Pamphlets, ed. J. McMinn (Gerrards Cross, 1991). A Test of Roman Catholic Liberality, submitted to the consideration of both Roman Catholics and Protestants. By a citizen of London-derry (London-derry, 1792). Theophilus Philadelphius, A Sequel to Common Sense: or the American Controversy considered in two points of view hitherto unnoticed (Dublin, 1777). Thomas, Daniel, Observations on the Celebrated Pamphlet of the Rt. Hon. Edmund Burke (Dublin, 1791). Thoughts on a Letter, Addressed to the Rt. Hon. Thomas Conolly, as secretary to the Whig Club. By a Whig (Dublin, 1790). Thoughts on News-papers and a Free Trade (Dublin, 1780). Thoughts on the Conduct and Continuation of the Volunteers of Ireland (Dublin, 1783). Thoughts on the Discontents of the People Last Year, respecting the sugar duties (Dublin, 1781). Thoughts on the Establishment of New Manufactures in Ireland, occasioned by the late freedoms we have obtained, with an account of the Manchester manufactury, established by Mr. Brooke. Written by a friend of his in the county ofKildare (Dublin, 1783). Thoughts on the Present Situation of Ireland in a letter from the North to a friend in Dublin (Dublin, 1782). Thoughts on the Present Transactions in Ireland, in a Letter to a Friend in England. By a



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Rude, G., The Crowd in History (New York, 1974). Rude, G., Ideology and Popular Protest (London, 1980). Sainsbury, J., Disaffected Patriots: London Supporters of Revolutionary America, 1769– 1782 (Gloucester, 1987). Schama, S., Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution (London, 1989). Scott, J., Algernon Sidney and the English Republic, 1623–1677 (Cambridge, 1988). Shalhope, R., ‘Republicanism and Early American Historiography’, William and Mary Quarterly, 39 (1982), 334–56. Simms, J. G., ColonialNationalism, 1698–1776 (Cork, 1976). Simms, J. G., ‘John Toland, a Donegal Heretic’, IHS 16: 63 (Mar. 1969), 304–20. Simms, J. G., William Molyneux of Dublin, 1656–1698 (Dublin, 1982). Skinner, Q., Liberty before Liberalism (Cambridge, 1998). Skinner, Q., The Foundations of Modern Political Thought (2 vols., Cambridge, 1978). Skinner, Q., ‘The Republican Ideal of Political Liberty’, in G. Bock, Q. Skinner, and M. Viroli (eds.), Machiavelli and Republicanism (Cambridge, 1990), 293–309. Skinner, Q., ‘The Principles and Practice of Opposition: The Case of Bolingbroke versus Walpole’, in N. McKendrick (ed.), Historical Perspectives, Studies in English Thought and Society in Honour of J. H. Plumb (London, 1974), 93–128. end p.292




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Wood, G. S., The Creation of the American Republic, 1776–1787 (New York, 1972). Woods, C. J., ‘The Place of Thomas Russell in the United Irish movement’, in H. Gough and D. Dickson (eds.) Ireland and the French Revolution (Dublin, 1990). 83–100. Woolf, D. R., ‘The Writing of Early Modern European Intellectual History, 1945–1995’, in M. Bentley (ed.), Companion to Historiography (London, 1997), 316–20. Wyatt-Brown, B., ‘Honour and American Republicanism: A Neglected Corollary’, in C. Brady (ed.), Ideology and the Historian (Dublin, 1991), 49–65. end p.294


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Index absenteesim 17 , 44 , 45 , 66 , 236 absolute monarchy 77 , 79 , 95 , 96 , 186 agrarian law 29 agrarian unrest 108 , 156–67 , 209 , 213 agriculture 16 , 66 , 71 , 74 , 79 , 106–7 Alexander, Andrew 88–9 , 98 ambition 28 , 84 , 159 , 173 America 40 , 80 , 258 , 232 , 234 constitutional comparison with Ireland 57–61 federalism in 223 trade with 65 American Revolution 35 , 36 , 37 , 98 , 149 economic impact on Ireland 49 , 65 , 68–9 ideological influence on Ireland 45 , 48–57 , 194 , 264 ideological origins of 5–6 Irish indifference to 52–3 , 68–7 Irish newspapers on 51 , 53 , 56–7 Irish sympathy for 48–57 , 58 war with Britain 49 , 51 , 52 , 53 , 55 , 56 , 58 , 68–9 anarchy 216 , 224 ancient constitutionalism 15–16 , 23 , 29 , 35 , 44 , 45 , 48 , 50 , 57–65 , 75–82 , 109 , 115 , 122–7 , 153 , 195 , 196–8 , 231–4 , 249–50 , 256 , 261 , 264 , 265



Anglican political thought 44 , 107 Anglo-Irish connection 16 , 31 , 32 , 37 , 44 , 46–7 , 58–61 , 61–5 , 66–74 , 77 , 78 , 81 , 97–102 , 110–12 , 113–15 , 154 , 168–76 , 179–83 , 189 , 233 , 210–11 , 233 , 250–5 ; see also independence; separatism Anglo-Irish identity , see identity, Irish anti-Catholicism 14–15 , 133 , 135 , 137 , 138 , 141 , 144–6 , 149 , 156–67 , 180 , 198–204 , 205 , 234 anti-Dissenter sentiment 43 , 158–61 anti-English sentiment 17 , 43 , 45 , 46 , 78 , 154 , 179 , 251–2 , 262 anti-monarchism 19 , 20 , 37 , 39 , 43 , 179 , 197 , 200 , 226–7 , 229 , 243 , 250–3 , 265 anti-parliaments 108 , 120 , 209 see also conventions Antrim 208 aristocracy 20 , 32 , 35 , 91 , 154 , 185 , 196 , 197 , 198 , 224 Aristotle 20–21 , 133 Army 94–7 , 147 , 208–9 , 231 see also standing armies Association movement 108 , 115 , 118 , 148 Athens 20 , 80 , 96 authority 76 , 78 see also legitimacy balanced government 19 , 20 , 22 , 25 , 35 , 36 , 39 , 45 , 76 , 83 , 84 , 91–3 , 102 , 112 , 115–17 , 126 , 146–54 , 177 , 181–3 , 191 , 192 , 234 , 261 see also ancient constitutionalism; constitution; checks and balances Barber, Samuel 161–2 , 201 Barnard, Toby 85 n. 8 Barrington, Sir Jonah 120 n. 25 Bartlett, Tom 29 , 157 , 166–7 , 209 Beauchamp, Lord 114 Beaufort, Revd Daniel Augustus 159–60 Beckett, J. C. 47



Belfast 11 , 51 , 86 , 148 , 176 , 184 , 191 , 205 , 206 , 208 , 228 , 247 Belfast News-letter 152 end p.295




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Beresford, John 245 Berkeley, George 17 n. 8 , 44 , 65 Bethel, Isaac Burke 169 bigotry, see anti-Catholicism Bill of Rights 119 , 122 , 229 Binns, John 151 birth rights, see rights, English Blackstone, Sir William 61–2 , 64 Bolingbroke 9 n. 24, 32 , 126–7 , 130 Bond, Oliver 213 , 231 Boyd, Hugh 52 , 54–5 Brewer, John 75 Bric, Maurice 48 , 53 , 157 Bristol, Frederick Augustus Hervey, 4th Earl of 144 , 149 British control of Ireland 15 , 17 , 31 , 36 , 37 , 39–42 , 44-s , 47–8 , 59 , 62 , 77–82 British Empire 38 , 64 , 70 , 72–3 , 98–100 , 111 , 179 , 210 British reformers 15 , 35 , 43 , 115–17 , 124 , 144 , 232–3 Brooke, Dr Arthur 58–9 , 136 Browne, Arthur 175 , 202 Browne, Denis 202 Brownlow, William 85 , 120 Bruce, William 151 Buckingham, George Nugent-Temple-Grenville, 1st Marquis of 174 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p092_print.html（第 1／3 页）2011/9/22 19:28:54


Burke, Edmund 52 , 115 , 136 , 158 , 165 , 171 , 178 , 184 , 185–8 , 201 , 232 , 236 Burke, Richard 199 Burrowes, Peter 122–3 , 129 , 140–1 , 142 , 145 Butler, James, Archbishop of Cashel 163–5 Butler, Simon 213 , 231 , 242 Caldwell, Sir James, Bart. 70 , 71–2 , 73 calvinist doctrines of resistance 258–9 Campbell, William 151 , 162–3 , 167 capacity for liberty, see liberty Carey, William Paulet 203 , 246 Carlisle, Frederick Howard, 5th Earl of 111 , 244 Carson, Revd George, 98 , 133 Cartwright, Major John 28 , 115 , 116 , 119 , 125 , 144 , 149 Catholic Committee 144 , 191 , 199–200 , 206 , 228 Catholic Society 199 Catholicism 14–15 , 84 , 117 , 132–5 , 158–9 Catholics: bearing arms 51 n. 15 , 106 , 207 citizenship 15 , 26 , 33 , 46 , 117 , 132–5 , 139–46 , 166 , 178 , 180–1 , 182 , 199 , 205 , 219–21 , 240 and education 238–40 emancipation 135 , 138 , 180–2 , 191 , 200 , 203 , 204 , 207 , 220–1 , 244–5 , 261 franchise 112 , 139–44 , 147–5 , 181–3 , 202 , 220 ; see also rights, Catholic gentry 51 , 157 , 199 , 200 , 207 , 220 loyalty 14 , 29 , 137 , 163 , 220 merchants 51 , 199 peasantry 142 , 162–4 , 162 , 200 , 208 , 214 , 238 ; see also peasantry



petitions 202 , 206 political character 14–15 , 33 , 84 , 112 , 132–46 , 158–60 , 164 , 177–8 , 180 , 197 , 199 , 200 , 204 , 220 , 228 ; see also citizenship, Catholic professionals 199 property 136–7 , 141 radicalism 191 , 228 relief 86 , 111 , 135–46 , 156 , 159 , 166 , 202–3 , 206–9 , 220 ; see also rights, Catholic; Catholic Emancipation views on American Revolution 51 Volunteers 106

end p.296




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Cato’s Letters 20 , 30 Cattle Act 16 , 30 censorship 53 , 230–1 , 249 Charlemont, James Caulfield, 1st Earl of 32 , 85 , 115 , 121 , 141 , 142 , 144 , 149 , 176–8 , 187–8 , 205 , 225 Charles I 61 , 124 checks and balances 68 , 76–7 , 91–3 , 115–17 , 131 , 153 , 181–3 , 223 , 231 chivalry 187 Church of Ireland 23 , 43 , 108 , 141 , 156–67 Cicero 20 , 133 citizen militias 18 , 22 , 24 , 85–91 , 102–3 , 105–10 , 119 , 208 , 221–2 , 257 see also Volunteers citizenship 20–2 , 24 , 25 , 32 , 37 , 83 , 87–90 , 100 , 102 , 119 , 127–35 , 136 , 146 , 173 , 183 , 191 , 196 , 205 , 222 , 238–41 civil society 24 , 30 , 40 , 41 , 66 , 74 , 81 , 126 , 211 , 218 , 224 Civil War 23 , 60 , 64 , 96–7 Clark, J.C.D. 33–5 classical republicanism 18 , 19–25 , 29 , 30 , 44 , 45 , 54–5 , 74 , 75–82 , 83–104 , 112 , 127 , 128 , 132–5 , 146 , 152 , 177 , 180–3 , 191 , 196 , 197 , 221 , 256–8 , 264–5 colonial status of Ireland 16 , 40 , 41 , 44 , 58–9 , 62 , 63 , 64 , 68 , 79 , 154 commerce 16–17 , 24 , 29–30 , 66–74 , 75–82 , 84 , 89 , 100 , 102–5 , 106 , 112 , 136 , 177 , 192–3 , 221 , 236 , 249 , 251 , 265 distaste for 74 , 75 , 77 and liberty 75–7 , 84 , 103



commercial grievances 16–17 , 24 , 44 , 49 , 55–6 , 65–74 , 75–82 , 264 commercial interests, British 71–4 , 75–6 , 77 , 80 commercial spirit 29–30 , 74 , 77 , 80 , 103 common good 24 , 27 , 30 , 68 , 73 , 74 , 104 , 123 , 133–5 , 142 , 145 , 146 , 163 , 171 , 177 , 198 common law 15 , 57 , 59–61 , 69 , 95 Commons, British, see parliament, British Commons, Irish, see parliament, Irish commonwealth 19 , 22 , 23 , 176–7 commonwealthmen, see real whigs Conolly, Thomas 171 conquest 39 , 40–1 , 59 , 61 , 62 , 63 , 64 , 78 , 80 consent 39 , 40 , 43 , 45 , 62 , 78 , 126 , 131 see also social contract contract constitution 16 , 39 , 45 , 46 , 57–9 , 61–3 , 76 , 78 , 116–21 , 122–5 , 126 , 129 , 145 , 153 , 156 , 158–9 , 162 , 163 , 170 , 173 , 177 , 179 , 186 , 192 , 195–8 , 208 , 213 , 216 , 217 , 220–1 , 223 , 224 , 227 , 229 , 231–4 , 248–50 , 251 , 262 , 265–6 British 20 , 28 , 45 , 58 , 59 , 68 , 79 , 108 , 125 , 147 , 170 , 194–5 , 198 , 232 , 234 , 254 , 256 , 261 criticism of 153 , 231 , 249–50 , 251–3 English 15–16 , 20 , 43 , 45–6 , 59 , 60 , 62 , 108 , 119 , 188 , 192 , 197 , 216 Gothic 23 , 55 , 84 renovation of 29 , 124–5 , 148 , 176 , 195 , 223 , 232–4 , 265 subversion of 231–4 see also ancient constitutionalism contract theory, see social contract Convention Act 208 , 209 , 248 conventions 82 , 108 , 120–2 Dungannon Reform (1793) 224 Dungannon Volunteer (1782) 111 , 137



Dungannon Volunteer (1783) 120 , 122 , 128 , 131 , 143 , 148 , 150 National Volunteer (1783) 120–1 , 123 , 128 , 144 , 149–51 , 183–4 National Catholic (1792) 206

end p.297




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Cooke, Thomas 171–2 Cork 11 , 148 Cork Gazette 238 corruption 18 , 21 , 23 , 28 , 32 , 35 , 36 , 45 , 75–6 , 91–2 , 98–102 , 116 , 126–7 , 128 , 146–9 , 177 , 178–80 , 181 , 183 , 191 , 192–3 , 197 , 230 , 251–2 , 256 , 258 , 261 cosmopolitanism 26 , 194 , 196 , 234 country party and ideas 27 , 31 , 35 , 65 , 75 , 76 , 127 , 136 , 148 , 149 , 182 , 207 crown: British 46 , 59 , 60 , 98 , 116 , 148 , 168 76 , 179 , 223 English, see crown, British Irish 40 , 63 , 68 , 78 , 79 , 81 , 147 , 168–76 , 179 Cullen, Louis 242 Cunningham, Hugh 29 , 30 , 31 Curtin, Nancy 4 , 247 cyclical view of history 19 , 20 , 23 , 45 , 80 , 97–102 , 119 , 127 , 175 , 194–5 224 , 256–7 Daly, Denis 102 Darcy, Patrick 15 , Declaratory Acts 36 , 57 , 111 , 113 Defenders 157 , 209 , 213 , 214 , 226 , 228 , 242 , 247 , 248 , 251 deference 85 degeneration, see cyclical views of history democracy 19 , 20 , 25 , 129 , 186 , 189 , 196 , 198 , 211–12 , 215 , 222 , 223 , 230 , 240 , 253



democrats 33 , 211–12 , 233 , 246 Jeffersonian 246 Denmark 23 , 55 , 84 , 96 despotism, see tyranny Dickinson, H. T. 35 Dickson, William Steel 52 , 55–6 , 201 Dissenters 2 , 15 , 24 , 33 , 34–5 , 43 , 51 , 55 , 89 , 93 , 138 , 151 , 156 , 158–67 , 174 , 180 , 181 , 201 , 214 , 258 covenanting tradition 201 criticism of Protestant Ascendancy 15 , 156 , 161–3 , 167 emigration to America 51 , 232 New Light 201 support for Americans 51 support for Catholics 161–7 , 214 , 228 division of labour 221–2 Dobbs, Francis 63 , 85 , 94 , 104 , 107 , 108–9 , 141–2 , 146–7 Domville, Sir William 15 Donovan, John 237–8 , 239–40 Doria, Andrew 121 , 124 , 125 , 130 Down 208 Down, County election (1790) 174 Doyle, William 229 Drennan, William 34 , 63 , 90 , 91 , 102 , 103 , 112 , 135 , 151 , 152–4 , 192 , 194 , 196 , 213 , 228–9 , 230 , 231 , 234 , 235 , 236 , 239–41 , 242 , 244 , 245 , 246 , 247 Driscol, Denis 238 Driscoll, Paddy 200–2 Drought, Thomas 118–20 , 144 Dryden, 27 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p094_print.html（第 2／3 页）2011/9/22 19:29:35


Dublin 11 , 23 , 24 , 50 , 106 , 148 , 174 , 176 , 191 , 208 , 214 , 228 , 236 , 237 , 247 Dublin Castle, see government, Irish Dublin Corporation 51 , 175 , 202 , 204 Dublin Evening Post 56 Dublin Mayoral dispute of 1790 168 , 175 Dublin patriots 51 , 75 n. 90 , 105 , 151 , 174 , 175 , 204 Dublin Society 105 Duigenan, Patrick 156 , 160 , 163 Dundas, Henry 206 , 232 , 244 Dunning, John 116 Durey, Michael 242 , 246 end p.298




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Dutch Revolt 93 duty 79 , 80 , 133 , 134 , 212 , 258–9 Dwyer, Anthony 212 economic improvement, see improvement economical reform 35 , 116 , 131 Eden, William 98 Edgeworth, Richard Lovel 151 education 89 , 105 , 112 , 129 , 142 , 166 , 205 , 221 , 238–41 Edward Byrne 199 elitism 32–3 , 131 , 175 , 182–3 , 197 , 212 , 215–19 , 223 , 224 , 224 see also Protestant superiority Elliott, Marianne 3 , 6 , 247 , 261 n. 104 Elrington, Thomas Bp of Ferns 216–17 embargo 44 , 65 , 68 , 77–8 emigration 51 , 105 , 145 Empire, Irish role in 38 , 59 , 64 , 71–3 employment 17 n. 8 , 16, 45 , 65 , 72 , 74 English conquest of Ireland 15–16 , 40–1 , 42 , 45 , 62 , 72 English government, see government, British English patriotism 28–9 , 31 Enlightenment 24 , 35 , 97 , 221 equality 40 , 89 , 139 , 143 , 169 , 215 , 218–19 , 220 , 221 , 230 , 241 European internationalism 194



executive power 20 , 35 , 36 , 77 , 79 , 115–16 , 128 , 131 , 147 , 168–9 , 181–2 , 191 executive, Irish, see government, Irish Fencibles 148 Ferguson, Adam 24 Fitzgerald, Lord Edward 246 Fitzgibbon, John 168 , 245 Fitzwilliam, William Wentworth, 2nd Earl of 234 , 239 , 243–7 Flood, Henry 75 , 76–8 , 82 , 85 , 113–15 , 120 , 149 , 150–1 , 152 , 171 Forbes, John 167 , 202 fortune 97 Foster, John 245 Foster, Roy 49 Fox, Charles James 115 , 172 France 23 , 38 , 81 , 96 , 140 , 193–4 , 234 entry into American War 52 , 56 , 111 , 137 Irish trade with 65 , 72 revolutionary wars 208 , 209 , 254 franchise, see representation Franklin, Benjamin 50 , 53 free trade 17 , 26 , 30 , 32 , 37 , 44 , 45 , 49 , 65–74 , 75–82 , 104 , 106–7 , 110–11 , 118 , 147 , 190 freedom of the press 177 , 231 , 249 freedom, see liberty Freeman’s Journal 53 French: agents 228 , 229 , 234 , 243 invasion 56 , 247 , 250 , 254 parlement 78



principles 227 , 229–30 , 262 French Revolution 155 , 158 , 163 , 176 , 177–8 , 180 , 184 , 187 , 195 , 208 , 229 , 251 criticism of 158 , 161 , 163–6 , 187 , 211–13 , 219 , 222 ideological impact 155 , 176 , 184–5 , 187–9 , 190–2 , 193–5 , 198 , 227 , 228–30 , 232 , 251 , 265 Geneva 174 Genoa 121 n. 28 , 164 George I 43 George III 52 , 53 , 68–9 , 63 , 95 , 168–7 , 174 , 179 , 196 , 201 , 206 Germany 164 Ghosh, Peter 100 n. Gibbon, Edward 100–1 Gillray 212 n. 58 Glorious Revolution 14 , 95 , 122 , 172 , 186 , 195 end p.299




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God 200–1 , 218 Goold, Thomas 186 Gordon Riots 118 , 213 government 18 , 32 , 43 , 49 , 59 , 62 , 68 , 97 , 115 British 49 , 53 , 64 , 72 , 75 , 77 , 79 , 82 , 90 , 111–12 , 151 , 193 , 208 , 210 , 251 Irish 16 , 36 , 51 , 53 , 79 , 109 , 111 , 126 , 146 , 151 , 168 , 172 , 202 , 206 , 208 , 213 , 219 , 229 , 231 , 236 , 237 , 240–1 , 245 , 248–50 , 258 Grace, George 164 Grattan, Henry 33 , 42 , 43 , 53 , 82 , 85 , 86 , 87 , 90–1 , 93 , 94–5 , 109 , 111 , 114– 15 , 167 , 202 , 245 Greece 102 , 133 , 134 , 174 Greene, Jack P. 57–8 Grenville, William Wyndham, 1st Baron of 244 Griffith, Amyas 160 Gunpowder Act 208 , 248 Gustavus III of Sweden 83 , 96 Habeas Corpus 111 , 248 Haliday, Dr Alexander 176–8 , 187 , 225 ; Hamilton, Alexander 224 Hampden, John 194 Hanoverian dynasty 64 Harrington, James, 22 , 25 , 102 , 203 Hatton, Colonel 121 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p096_print.html（第 1／3 页）2011/9/22 19:30:18


Hely-Hutchinson, John, 70–4 Henry II 40–1 , 59–60 , 78 Henry VIII 60 hereditary principle 24 , 189 , 215 , 224 , 251 , 253 Hesse 164 Hibernian Journal 51 , 188 Hill, Jackie 4–5 , 27 Holland 84 , 174 , 194 Homer 88 honour 33 , 90 , 98 , 100 , 154 , 173–4 , 183–4 , 233 , 246 Houlton, Robert 86 , 101 , 106 , 137 human nature 102 , 184 , 221 Hume, David 24 , 221 Hutcheson, Francis 24 identity: British 26–7 , 38 , 55–8 , 60 , 64 , 195 Irish 16 , 23 , 37 , 38 , 41 , 154 , 178 , 185 , 195–6 ignorance 69 , 238–41 see also rationality; education Imperial identity, see identity, British improvement 16 , 24 , 26 , 27 , 44–5 , 65 , 66 , 70 , 104–6 , 136 , 191 , 193 , 197 , 238–41 , 265 see also commercial grievances Indemnity Act 248 independence 16 , 31 , 37 , 43 , 44 , 79–80 , 81 , 113–15 , 154 , 168–76 , 180 , 182 , 185 , 189 , 191 , 210–11 , 230 , 250 , 252 , 255 , 262–3 see also legislative independence; separatism industry 67 , 70–2 , 75–7 , 80 , 103 , 104 , 106–7 , 109 , 136 , 239–40 inequality, see equality innovation 63 , 125 , 159 , 189 , 262 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p096_print.html（第 2／3 页）2011/9/22 19:30:18


insurrection 235 , 237 see also rebellion; revolution Insurrection Act 248 intolerance, see anti-Catholicism; tolerance Irish Jacobins 196 Irish Parliament of James II 197 Irish republican tradition 6–7 Irish trade, see commerce irrationality, see rationality Italy 84 , 163 , 174 Jackson, Henry 246 Jackson, Revd William 234 , 243 Jacobitism 2–3 end p.300




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James II 95 , 122 Jebb, Dr Frederick 75 Jebb, John 115 , 120 , 144 Jim Smyth 157 John I 60 , 78 , 122 Johnson, Samuel, 19 , 28 Jones, William Todd, 140 , 151 , 197–9 , 201 , 202–4 judiciary, Irish 111 Junius Hibernicus 215–16 justice 121 , 141 , 147 , 157 , 183 , 203 , 216 , 232 , 235 , 260 Kelly, James 152 , 155 n., 159 Kelly, Patrick 42 Kenmare, Lord 144 , 199–200 Keogh, John 148–9 , 191 , 199 Kidd, Colin 26 Kilburne, Sinclaire 151 King, William 23 king in parliament 63 , 64 kings, see monarchy Knox, William 60 , 70 , 220–1 laissez-faire economics 67 , 236 Lake, General 248 Lammey, David 66 n. 57 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p097_print.html（第 1／3 页）2011/9/22 19:30:43


land settlement 125 , 132 , 157 , 159 , 214 , 229 landed elite, see Protestant Ascendancy law of nature 51 , 62 , 217 Law, Revd Robert 107–8 laziness 66 , 69–70 Leerssen, Joep 4–5 , 31 legislative independence 31–2 , 37 , 42 , 43 , 48 , 49 , 64 , 82 , 83 , 89 , 90 , 93 , 101 , 106 , 108 , 110–12 , 113–5 , 118 , 145 , 154 , 190 see also independence legitimacy 41 , 47 , 61 , 68 , 120–1 , 123 , 127 , 129 Leinster, William Robert, 2nd Duke of 85 levelling 90 , 121 , 158 , 161 , 163 , 229–30 , 238 see also anarchy; mob rule Lewins, Edward 191 Leyal, P. 104 , 106 , 109 liberty 18 , 20–2 , 23 , 31 , 32 , 38 , 40 , 64 , 77 , 78 , 81 , 83–4 , 88 , 90 , 91–3 , 98 , 112 , 125 , 126 , 128 , 129 , 130 , 135 , 141 , 150 , 153 , 170 , 173–4 , 180 , 183–4 , 186 , 211 , 215–17 , 219 , 231 , 232–3 , 251 , 253–4 , 257–63 capacity for 18 , 21 , 31 , 32 , 80 , 98 , 128–35 , 139–40 , 142–6 , 152–4 , 178 , 197 , 199 civil 177 , 219 English 15 , 29 , 41 , 57 , 62 , 77 , 99 , 163 , 164 ; see also English rights fragility of 23 , 54 , 55 , 83–4 , 94–6 , 115 , 248 , 257 Irish 17 , 29 , 31 , 60 , 95 , 100 , 101–2 , 104 , 110 , 154 , 193 , 199 limits of 230 protection of 17 , 21 , 29 , 31 , 32 , 33 , 77 , 86 , 90 , 91–7 , 103 , 105–6 , 112 , 118 , 128 , 130 , 145 , 153 , 191 , 192 , 253–4 , 257–63 religious 35 , 133 , 138 , 177 restoration of 253 Roman 20 , 96



Limerick Freeholder 130 Locke, John 17–18 , 25 , 35 , 39–40 , 41 , 78 , 80 , 126 , 130 , 216–18 , 236 , 257 , 259–61 Lord Lieutenant 36 , 44 , 58 , 64 Lords, Irish 231 Louis XVI 187 , 206 , 219 n. 78 , 233–4 love of country 26 , 27 , 28 , 32 , 90 , 173 , 239 loyalism 14 , 52 , 63 , 81 , 32 , 134 , 161 , 187 , 210–15 , 216 , 227 , 228–9 , 246 , 249 , 262 end p.301




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Lucas, Charles 28 , 42 , 45–6 , 53 , 75 luxury 17 , 24 , 29 , 30 , 73–4 , 76 , 84 , 98–100 , 107 , 236 McBride, Ian 14 , 201 McCormack, W. J. 155 n, 158 McCormick, Richard 191 , 199 McCracken, Henry Joy 246 McDowell, R. B. 5 , 13–14 , 50 , 56 , 247 Macedonia 96 Machiavelli 21 , 22 , 76 , 92 , 96 , 97 , 126 , 134 McKenna, Theobald 199–200 , 215–16 , 221 McNally, Leonard 213 MacNeven, William James 34 McTier, Martha 246 McTier, Samuel 148 n. 99 Madison, James 224 Magna Charta 16 , 59 , 60 , 61 , 122 , 125 , 139 , 163 majority will, see popular will Mandeville, Bernard 30 , 104 manufacture, see industry martial spirit 24 , 84 , 87–93 , 112 , 118–21 , 152 , 199 , 240 , 257 see also virtue, martial Martin, John 151 Meath 106



Memmius 125 , 126 , 130 , 140 Middle Ages 15–16 , 40 Midleton, Lord 50–1 militia 96 , 103 , 209 , 249 Militia Act 208 Militia Riots 209 Millar, John 24 millenarianism 2 , 258 Milton, John 22 , 194 mixed constitution 20 , 21 , 91 , 186 , 196 , 198 , 224 , 234 mob rule 21 , 223 mob, the 32 , 160–1 , 165 , 211–15 , 236 , 237 , 239 , 262 see also democracy, the people moderation 27 , 77 , 81 , 138 , 149 , 174 , 186 , 210 , 216 , 219–25 Molesworth, Robert 23–4 , 38–9 , 44 , 55 , 96 Molyneux, Sir Capel 151 Molyneux, William 15 , 17–18 , 23 , 37 , 38–43 , 46 , 58 , 59 , 60 , 65 , 78 monarchy 19 , 20–1 , 25 , 28 , 32–3 , 43 , 44 , 46 , 77 , 91–2 138 , 158–9 , 164 , 177 , 189 , 196–7 British 63–4 , 79 , 94–5 , 111 , 138 ; see also crown (British), crown (Irish) English 16 , 40–1 , 44 , 46 , 79 , 109 , 119 , 197 Montesquieu 30 , 77 , 126 , 257 moral economy, 157 , 209 Murphy, Sean 45 , 46 Mutiny Acts 93–4 , 179 Mutiny bills 93–7 , 111 National Evening Star 203 nationalism 26–7 , 31 , 46 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p098_print.html（第 2／3 页）2011/9/22 19:31:20


Irish 27 , 46 navigation acts 16 , 30 , 66 Neilson, Samuel 242 , 246 , 248 , 255–6 , 258 Newenham, Sir Edward 51 newspapers 10–11 Nipple, Wilfred 21 non-importation movement 79 , 81 Nootka Sound incident 179–80 North, Lord 49 , 111 , 112 , 116 Northern Star 229 , 246 , 258 Northern Whig Club 176–7 , 196 , 205 O'Brien, Gerard 42 O'Connell, Maurice 50 , 53 , 56 O'Connor, Arthur 34 , 234 , 235 , 246 , 248–50 , 253 , 255 , 257 , 258 O'Leary, Arthur 157 , 160 , 162 , 163 Ogle, George 51 , 144 , 156 , 160 end p.302




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oligarchy 36 see also aristocracy opposition 27–9 , 30 , 34 , 35 , 51 , 52 , 65 , 75 , 76 , 109 , 116 , 118 , 170 , 171 , 173 , 174 , 228 , 230 , 254 Orange Order 248 order 59 , 64 , 86 , 107–8 , 215–16 original compact 40–1 Paine, Thomas 11 , 18 , 25 , 53 , 176 , 178 , 184 , 188–9 , 192 , 194 , 196 , 197 , 215 , 216–17 , 219 n. 78 , 232 , 234 , 249 , 252–3 pamphlets, nature ofio-11, 56–7 parliament: British 31 , 36 , 46 , 49 , 57 , 60 , 62–3 , 64 , 66 , 73 , 77 , 81 , 95 , 108 , 111 , 114–15 , 124 , 168–70 , 185 , 220 English 15 , 16 , 39 , 40–1 , 59 , 60 , 78 , 125 ; see also parliament (British) Irish 15 , 16 , 36 , 41–2 , 45 , 51 , 52 , 58 , 60 , 63 , 64 , 78 , 82 , 91–2 , 93–5 , 108 , 111 , 114–15 , 119–21 , 126 , 129 , 137 , 145 , 146–54 , 171 , 178 , 179 , 181 , 192–3 , 202 , 207 , 209 , 224 , 252 parliamentary reform 13 , 15 , 18 , 26 , 27 , 28 , 34 , 35 , 108 , 112 , 111 , 115–54 , 174 , 178 , 180–3 , 189 , 191 , 200 , 207 , 219 , 223 , 225 , 241–3 , 246 , 261 see also representation parliamentary sovereignty 62 , 64–5 , 120 Parsons, Sir Lawrence, 95 , 218–19 party 28 , 110 , 168–76 patronage 35 , 36 , 116–17 , 147–54 , 178 , 192 , 249 peasantry 69 , 130 , 132 , 163–4 , 193 , 218 , 235–8 , 239 , 252 , 263 see also Catholic peasantry penal laws 15 , 65 , 66 , 135–9 , 141 , 144 , 146 , 176 , 245



Pennsylvania 81 pension bills 35 , 76 , 207 people, the 22 , 32 , 59 , 61 , 68 , 70 , 72 , 73 , 76 , 84 , 88 , 91–3 , 101 , 108–9 , 112 , 117–21 , 127–32 , 139 , 181 , 182–3 , 191 , 211–3 , 217–19 , 228 , 241–3 , 256 , 257 , 259–61 , 262 , 264 perseverance 21 , 93 , 170 , 230 , 231 , 237 , 239–41 , 246 see also vigilance Pettit, Philip 20 , 21 philanthropy 31 , 105 , 107 Pisistraus 96 Pitt, William, the Younger 34 , 117 , 169 , 206 , 208 , 232 , 235 , 244–5 place bills 116 , 174 , 178 , 207 Plato 19 , 133 Pocock, J. G. A. 5 , 7–8 , 21 , 30 , 75 , 134 Poland 84 , 139 , 164 , 194 political empowerment of Volunteers 87–91 political languages 7–10 politicization 87–91 Pollard, M. 53 Pollock, Joseph 75 , 80–2 , 98 , 151 , 222–3 , 224 Polybius 19 , 96 , 97 , 133 Ponsonby, George 245 popular intervention 76–7 , 92 , 101 , 117–22 , 148 , 256 popular sovereignty 19 , 25 , 35 , 116 , 117–32 , 194 , 196 , 197 , 216–17 , 224 , 241– 4 popular will 163 , 217–18 , 224 , 241 popularization of politics 45 , 214 , 215 , 239 populism 28 , 106 , 224 Porter, Revd James 253–5



Portland Whigs 244 Portland, William Henry Cavendish Bentinck, 3rd Duke of 111 , 245 poverty 16 , 17 , 30 , 33 , 44 , 60 , 65 , end p.303




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69–71 , 72 , 76 , 79 , 105 , 107 , 112 , 127–32 , 164 , 218 , 235–8 power 91–3 , 96 , 130 , 150 , 154 , 192 , 196 , 218 , 219 , 221 Powerscourt, Lord 151 Poynings' Law 36 , 60 , 78 , 111 precedent 15 , 26 , 40 , 44 , 114 , 115 , 117 , 118 , 122–5 , 162 , 179 Presbyterians, see Dissenters Preston, William 88 , 98 , 211–12 , 213 , 233–4 Price, Richard 26 , 126 , 144 , 187 , 194 , 196 , 232 Priestley Riots 187 Priestley, Joseph 186 , 232–3 Prince of Wales, George IV 168 , 174 privy council, English 36 , 64 privy council, Irish 58 progress 35 , 70 , 73 , 97 , 153 , 195 property 17 , 18 , 25 , 89 , 102 , 108 , 142 commercial 30 , 75 forfeiture of 78 , 157–8 , 230 landed 22 , 29 , 30 , 44 , 66 , 67 , 74 , 75 , 132 , 149–50 , 157–8 , 196 , 205 , 236 political significance of 22 , 25 , 29 , 85 , 112 , 116 , 127–32 , 136–7 , 142 , 148– 54 , 182–3 , 218 protection of 18 , 24 , 29 , 51 , 59 , 86 , 216 , 218 representation 22 , 35 , 68 , 78 , 131 , 136 , 142 , 149 , 182–3 rights 41 prosperity 33 , 44 , 57 , 65 , 73 , 74 , 79 , 102 , 195 ; see also wealth Protestant:



ascendancy 15 , 25 , 36–7 , 44–5 , 46 , 56 , 67 , 69 , 75 , 108 , 118 , 119 , 121 , 131–2 , 148 , 155–67 , 189 , 196 , 198–9 , 202 , 203 , 204–8 , 210 , 212–14 , 223 , 225 , 228 , 229 , 234 , 235–6 , 254 , 261 fears of Catholics 56 , 61 , 132–5 , 140 , 156–67 , 168 , 177–8 , 180 , 214 , 237 , 239 , 240 , 265 fears of invasion 52 , 56 , 61 political characteristics 14–15 , 129 , 134 , 136 , 158–9 providence 29 superiority 14–15 , 18 , 29 , 44 , 45 , 46 , 84 , 132–5 , 139 , 142 , 145 , 156–67 , 242 , 180 , 251 , 264–5 ; see also Protestant Ascendancy Protestantism 14 , 46 , 57 , 134 , 201 Protestants 16 , 18 , 29 , 37 , 46 , 58 , 59 , 61 , 195 , 210 Prussia 140 , 164 public good, see common good public spirit 18 , 22 , 33 , 92 , 86–8 , 93 see also virtue, civic; martial spirit public virtue, see virtue, civic Quebec Act 51 race 26 radical whiggism 35–6 , 43 see also real whigs radicalization 178 , 227–8 , 249–50 , 253 , 257 rationality 21 , 25 , 30 , 32 , 35 , 60 , 102 , 124 , 125–6 , 128–35 , 136 , 139 , 142 , 147 , 180 , 187 , 194 , 217 , 218–19 reaction to radicalism 138 , 161 , 163–6 , 204–5 , 206–19 , 227–30 , 235 , 248 real whigs 19–23 , 25 , 32 , 33 , 35 , 46 , 54 , 65 , 76 , 77 , 78 , 93–7 , 115 , 139 , 147 , 153 , 182 , 191 , 196 , 262 reason, see rationality rebellion 49 , 72 , 79 , 80 , 92 , 108 , 259–61 see also revolution Rebellion of 1798: 61 , 246 , 247 , 262–3 reform bills 151 , 226 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p100_print.html（第 2／3 页）2011/9/22 19:32:08


reform congress 151–2 reformation 125 , 134 reformation of manners 105 end p.304




Small, Stephen


Regency Crisis 155 , 168–76 religious divisions 81 , 133–41 , 156–67 , 234 , 263 , 264–5 religious equality 189 , 191 , 192 , 194 , 201 , 223 religious unity 192–3 , 195 , 205 , 229 , 247 renunciation dispute 113–15 , 148 representation 18 , 28 , 35 , 57 , 63 , 81 , 91 , 115–21 , 123 , 126 , 128 , 131–2 , 146– 54 , 176 , 182–3 , 187 , 192–3 , 199 , 205 , 219 , 220 , 241–3 , 250 and taxation 35 , 51 , 110 , 147 , 149 , 199 see also parliamentary reform repression 190 , 210 , 213 , 226 , 231 , 235–6 , 243 , 248–50 , 261 republics 20 , 22 , 46 , 194 revolution 92 , 120 , 140 , 210 , 212 , 220 , 214 , 223 , 224 , 237 , 243 , 256–61 justifications for 25 , 180 , 185 , 200 , 216 , 253 , 256–61 Reynolds, Thomas 246 Richard I 60 right to bear arms 109 right to resist 18 , 35 , 126 , 258–61 see also theories of revolution Rightboys 156–8 rights 15 , 18 , 25 , 37 , 45 , 58 , 122–3 , 165 , 169 , 175 , 181 , 185 , 218 , 221 , 231 , 236 , 241 , 248 , 251 Catholic 45 , 46 , 112 , 133–5 , 137–46 , 159 , 166 , 180 , 181–2 , 199–200 , 202– 3 , 208 , 221 ; see also Catholic relief; Catholic Emancipation civil 46 , 132 , 159 , 172 , 197 , 219 of conquest, see conquest constitutional 16



and education 241 English 15 , 16 , 35 , 37 , 39 , 41 , 45 , 57 , 58 , 59 , 60 , 62 , 64 , 69 , 221 Irish 16 , 18 , 24 , 26 , 29–32 , 39 , 41 , 43–6 , 54 , 59 , 62–3 , 79 , 80 , 91 , 94 , 101 , 110–12 , 115 , 175 , 179–80 , 183 of man 194 , 218 natural 17–18 , 24 , 25 , 29 , 31 , 35 , 37 , 39 , 40 , 41 , 45 , 46 , 61–5 , 110 , 116 , 122–7 , 128 , 162–3 , 181–3 , 216–17 , 259 , 262 , 264 popular 37 , 129 property 236 , 238 religious 159 universal 26 Robbins, Caroline 23 Rockingham, Charles Watson-Wentworth, 2nd Marquis of 245 Rockingham Whigs in, 115 , 116 Roman decline 100 Rome and Romans 19 , 38 , 96 , 100 , 102 , 133 , 134 , 174 , 246 , 257 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques 32 Rowan, Archibald Hamilton 34 , 151 , 152 , 175 , 213 , 233 , 242 , 243 , 246 Russell, Lord John 194 Russell, Thomas 188 , 214 , 229 , 230 , 231–2 , 235–6 , 238 , 242 , 246 , 247 , 248 , 258–9 Sacramental Test Act 35 , 161 Sampson, William 231–2 , 235–6 , 246–7 , 248 , 260 secret ballot 147 secularization 181 sedition 28 , 37 , 213 , 222 , 225 , 228–30 , 231 , 245–6 self-interest 25 , 29 , 30 , 73 , 73 , 76 , 77 , 80 , 83 , 102–4 , 131 , 171–2 , 221 , 235 separation of church and state 158 , 162 , 201 http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/oso/private/content/history/9780199257799//p101_print.html（第 2／3 页）2011/9/22 19:32:29


separatism 15–16 , 17 , 26 , 37 , 41 , 46 , 60 , 61 , 66 , 72–3 , 78–82 , 109 , 168–70 , 179–80 , 226–7 , 233 , 243 , 250–6 see also independence September Massacres 233 Seward, W. W. 126 Sforza, Francesco 96 end p.305




Small, Stephen


shared ‘British’ political traditions 13 , 29 , 48 , 57–9 , 61 , 64 , 69 , 83 , 117–18 , 134 , 232–3 Sharman, William 151 Sheares, Henry 226 n. 2 Sheares, John 226 n. 2 Shelburne Whigs 111 , 115 , 116 Sheridan, Charles Francis 61–3 , 83–4 , 96 , 112 , 219 Sidney, Algernon 25 , 194 Skinner, Quentin 5 , 20 slavery 43 , 83 , 97 , 144 , 152 , 183 , 199 , 216 Smith, Adam 24 , 30 , 67 , 70 , 73 , 221 smuggling 65 , 72 Smyth, Jim 4 sociability 87 , 208 , 234 social contract 17–18 , 24 , 25 , 35 , 40 , 125–6 , 177 , 218 , 260 Society for Constitutional Information 34 , 116 , 118 Spain 69 , 72 , 81 , 96 Sparta 20 stability, see order standing armies 22 , 76 , 83 , 84 , 93–7 , 222 Strugglers Club 247 Sweden 83–4 , 164 Swift, Jonathan 37 , 42 , 43–5 , 65



Switzerland 81 , 84 , 240 Synod of Ulster 138 Tandy, George 151 Tandy, James Napper 51 , 106 , 151 , 152 , 174 , 213 taxation 22 , 35 , 39 , 67 , 51 , 72 , 110 , 147 , 149 , 157 , 199 , 207 , 238 , 257 terror 228 , 230 , 246 , 260 French 228 Thomas, Daniel 186–7 tithe dispute 156–67 Toland, John 23 toleration 35 , 43 , 81 , 132 , 135 , 138 , 139–41 , 143 , 145 , 166 , 177 , 180 , 202 Tone, Theobald Wolfe 34 , 152 , 178–84 , 191 , 192 , 196 , 197 , 213 , 235 , 242 , 243 , 246 , 249 , 250–3 , 257 , 258 Toryism 43 , 107 trade restrictions 16–17 49 , 56 , 65–6 , 72–3 , 114 see also commercial grievances trade, see free trade; commerce Trant, Dominick 160 , 163 treason 213 , 228 , 253 tree of liberty 233–4 tree of state 233 Trim 106 tyranny 18 , 19 , 22 , 27 , 30 , 35 , 36 , 49 , 53 , 54 , 55 , 59 , 62 , 77 , 80 , 83–4 , 91 , 92 , 94–7 , 99 , 107 , 122 , 128 , 130 , 134 , 139 , 154 , 158 , 175 , 180 , 199 , 216 , 248 , 259 Catholic 158–61 French 188 Ulster 174 , 201 , 248 unionism 38–9 , 46 , 60 , 81 , 204 , 210



United Irishmen 3–4 , 6–7 , 14 , 18 , 37 , 46 , 51 , 55 , 93 , 152 , 176 , 188 , 191–9 , 200 , 205 , 208 , 210–11 , 213 , 219 , 226–62 on commerce 236 , 249 , 262 on the constitution 231–4 , 248–50 , 262 divisions in 242 on education 238–41 elitism of 221 on English influence 251–2 , 262 on equality 241 exiles 246 on parliamentary reform 238 , 241–3 , 246 on property 229–30 , 236 , 238 and the Rebellion of 1798: 263

end p.306




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reorganization of 226 , 243 , 245–7 , 255 on republican separatism 250–5 , 262 on revolution 256–61 , 262 on separation 233 , 243 , 250–6 , 262 on social issues 235–6 , 238 , 257 suppression of 226 , 243 , 244 on universal male suffrage 25 , 34 , 116 , 125 , 127 , 144 , 149 , 196 , 217 , 241– 3 ; see also representation and the Whig tradition 191 , 194 , 196 , 201–6 , 262 universalism 23 , 26 , 38 see also cosmopolitanism Venice 139 , 164 , 194 vice 97–102 , 104 , 221 English 97–102 viceroy, see Lord Lieutenant vigilance 18 , 21 , 23 , 31 , 32 , 54 , 83–4 , 87 , 91–3 , 102 , 152–4 , 169 , 170 , 211 , 257 Viroli, M 26 , 27 virtue 18 , 25 , 30 , 31 , 32 , 54 , 74 , 91–3 , 97 , 98 , 99 , 100 , 109 , 128 , 132 , 133 , 139 , 170 , 180 , 196 , 239 , 246 civic 17 , 18 , 20–1 , 22 , 24 , 25 , 29 , 30 , 33 , 55 , 74 , 75 , 76 , 86–91 , 103 , 104 , 106 , 112 , 118–21 , 141 , 152 , 173 , 187 , 191 , 199 , 257 Irish 98 martial 22 , 23 , 24 , 86–93 , 152 , 221 , 257 public, see virtue, civic



religious 98 Voltaire 102 n. voluntary submission 40–1 , 59 see also conquest theory Volunteer’s Journal 56 Volunteers 17 , 18 , 37 , 52 , 82 , 83 , 84 , 85–92 , 100 , 102–3 , 105–15 , 117–22 , 129 , 138 , 139 , 143–4 , 148 , 149–50 , 152 , 166 , 175 , 232 , 257 Belfast Companies 115 Catholic 106 , 137 criticism of 105–10 , 221–2 Dublin Lawyers' Corps 113–14 Dublin Volunteers 110 First Regiment of the Irish Brigade 106 , 143 Independent Dublin Volunteers 114 Leinster 121 Liberty Corps 106 National Guard 208 , 228 suppression of 208–9 Ulster 119 , 120 , 122 , 128 , 137 , 143 , 148 , 175 United Companies of Tullahunco and Balliconnel 133 wealth 29 , 67 , 68 , 70 , 71 , 74 , 79 , 99 , 100 , 110 , 102 , 104 , 132 , 136 , 139 , 142 , 166 , 236–8 Whelan Kevin 157–8 Whig Club, see Whigs, Irish Whigs 26 , 31 , 38 , 64 , 116–17 , 168–78 , 182 , 185 , 186 , 191 , 194 , 201–6 , 227 , 230 , 252 , 262 of the Capital 176 , 188–9 connections between Irish and British 169 , 171–2 , 244 Irish 168–76 , 184 , 191 , 201–6 , 209 , 215 , 219 , 224



Whiteboys 157 Wilkes, John 28 , 35 Wollstonecraft, Mary 186 , 217 n. 74 women, exclusion from politics 217 Wood, Gordon 149 Woodward, Richard, Bp. of Cloyne 156–9 , 163–5 , 167 Woollen Act 16 , 30 , 66 , 70 , 72 Wyvill, Christopher 115 , 116 , 144 Yelverton, Barry 82 , 85 Yeomanry 248 Yorkshire Association 115 , 148 Top Privacy Policy and Legal Notice © Oxford University Press, 2003-2011. All rights reserved.


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Political thought in Ireland, 1776-1798: republicanism, patriotism, and radicalism

Republicanism and Political Theory

Classical Humanism and Republicanism in English Political Thought, 1570-1640 (Ideas in Context)

Ireland: Social, Political, and Religious

Radicalism and Political Reform in the Islamic and Western Worlds

Patriotism

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Traditionalism and Radicalism in the History of Christian Thought

Republicanism in Theory and Practice

Cicero's Social and Political Thought

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Tocqueville's Political and Moral Thought: New Liberalism (Routledge Studies in Social and Political Thought)

Social and Political Thought of Noam Chomsky (Routledge Studies in Social and Political Thought, 24)

Rational Extremism: The Political Economy of Radicalism

Medieval Islamic Political Thought

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Socio-Political Thought Gandhi

History of Political Thought

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Greek Political Thought

Serbian Political Thought

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Critical Republicanism: The Hijab Controversy and Political Philosophy

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