CHAPTER X

RULE OF THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT

1640-1750

The aim which English kings had set before them for the last four

hundred years seemed now fulfilled. The land was theirs, and the

dominion. But the victory turned to dust and ashes in their hands. The

"royal inheritance" of so many hopes had practically disappeared; for

if the feudal system which was to give the king the land of Ireland

had destroyed the tribal system, it was itself dead; decaying and

intolerable in England, it could no longer be made to serve in

Ireland. Henry's dream of a royal army from Ireland, "a sword and

flay" at the king's use against his subjects in Great Britain,

perished; Charles I did indeed propose to use the Irish fighting-men

to smite into obedience England and Scotland, but no king of England

tried that experiment again. James II looked to Ireland, as in

Henry's scheme, for a safe place of refuge to fly to in danger; that,

again, no king of England tried a second time. As for the king's

revenues and profits, the dream of so many centuries, that too

vanished: confiscations old and new which the English parliament

allowed the Crown for Irish government left the king none the richer,

and after 1692 no longer sufficed even for Irish expenses. The title

of "King of Ireland" which Henry VIII had proclaimed in his own right

with such high hopes, bred out of its original deception other

deceptions deeper and blacker than the first. The sovereign saw his

absolute tyranny gradually taken out of his hands by the parliament

and middle class for their own benefit; the rule of the king was

passing, the rule of the English parliament had begun.

Thus past history was as it were wiped out. Everything in Ireland was

to be new. The social order was now neither feudal nor tribal, nor

anything known before. Other methods had been set up, without custom,

tradition, or law behind them. There were two new classes, English

planters and Irish toilers. No old ties bound them, and no new

charities. "From the Anglo-Irish no man of special sanctity as yet is

known to have sprung," observed a Gael of that day. Ancient patrimony

had fallen. The new aristocracy was that of the strong hand and the

exploiter's greed. Ordinary restraints of civilised societies were not

yet born in this pushing commercial throng, where the scum of Great

Britain, broken men or men flying from the law, hastened--"hoping to

be without fear of man's justice in a land where there was nothing, or

but little as yet, of the fear of God." Ireland was left absolutely

without guides or representatives. There were no natural leaders of

the country among the new men, each fighting for his own hand; the

English government permitted none among the Irish.

England too was being made new, with much turmoil and confusion--an

England where kings were yielding to parliaments, and parliaments were

being subdued to the rising commercial classes. The idea of a separate

royal power and profit had disappeared and instead of it had come the

rule and profit of the parliament of England, and of her noble-men,

ecclesiastics, and traders in general.

This new rule marked the first revolution in the English government of

Ireland which had happened since Henry II sat in his Dublin palace. By

the ancient constitution assured by compacts and grants since English

laws were first brought into that country, Ireland was united to the

Crown of England as a free and distinct kingdom, with the right of

holding parliaments subject only to the king and his privy council;

statutes of the English parliament had not force of law there until

they had been re-enacted in Ireland--which indeed was necessary by the

very theory of parliaments, for there were no Irish representatives in

the English Houses. Of its mere will the parliament of England now

took to itself authority to make laws for Ireland in as free and

uncontrolled a manner as if no Irish parliament existed. The new

ruling classes had neither experience nor training. Regardless of any

legal technicalities they simply usurped a power unlimited and

despotic over a confused and shattered Ireland. Now was seen the full

evil of government from over-sea, where before a foreign tribunal,

sitting at a distance, ignorant and prejudiced, the subject people had

no voice; they could dispute no lie, and could affirm no truth.

This despotism grew up regardless of any theory of law or

constitution. The intention was unchanged--the taking of all Irish

land, the rooting out of the old race from the country. Adventurers

were tempted by Irish wealth; what had once been widely diffused among

the Irish tribes was gathered into the hands of a few aliens, who

ruthlessly wasted the land for their own great enrichment. Enormous

profits fell to planters, who could get three times as much gain from

an Irish as from an English estate by a fierce exploiting of the

natural resources of the island and of its cheap outlawed labour.

Forests of oak were hastily destroyed for quick profits; woods were

cut down for charcoal to smelt the iron which was carried down the

rivers in cunning Irish boats, and what had cost L10 in labour and

transport sold at L17 in London. The last furnace was put out in Kerry

when the last wood had been destroyed. Where the English adventurer

passed he left the land as naked as if a forest fire had swept over

the country.

For the exploiter's rage, for the waster's madness, more land was

constantly needed. Three provinces had been largely planted by

1620--one still remained. By a prodigious fraud James I, and after him

Charles I in violation of his solemn promise, proposed to extirpate

the Irish from Connacht. The maddened people were driven to arms in

1641. The London parliament which had just opened the quarrel with the

king which was to end in his beheading, seized their opportunity in

Ireland. Instantly London City, and a House of Commons consisting

mainly of Puritan adventurers, joined in speculations to buy up

"traitors' lands," openly sold in London at L100 for a thousand acres

in Ulster or for six hundred in Munster, and so on in every province.

It was a cheap bargain, the value of forfeited lands being calculated

by parliament later at L2,500 for a thousand acres. The more rebels

the more forfeitures, and every device of law and fraud was used to

fling the whole people into the war, either in fact or in name, and so

destroy the claim of the whole of them to their lands. "Wild

Irishmen," the English said to one another, "had nothing but the human

form to show that they were men." Letters were forged and printed in

England, purporting to give Irish news; discountenanced by parliament,

they still mark the first experiment to appeal in this way to London

on the Irish question. Parliament did its utmost to make the contest a

war of extermination: it ended, in fact, in the death of little less

than half the population.

The Commons' auction of Irishmen's lands in 1641, their conduct of a

war of distinguished ferocity, these were the acts by which the Irish

first knew government by an English parliament. The memory of the

black curse of Cromwell lives among the people. He remains in Ireland

as the great exemplar of inhuman cruelties, standing amid these scenes

of woe with praises to God for such manifest evidence of His

inspiration. The speculators got their lands, outcast women and

children lay on the wayside devoured by wolves and birds of prey. By

order of parliament (1653) over 20,000 destitute men, women, and

children from twelve years were sold into the service of English

planters in Virginia and the Carolinas. Slave-dealers were let loose

over the country, and the Bristol merchants did good business. With

what bitter irony an Irishman might contrast the "civilisation" of the

English and the "barbarism" of the Irish--if we talk, he said, about

civility and a civil manner of contract of selling and buying, there

is no doubt that the Anglo-Irish born in cities have had more

opportunity to acquire civility than the Old Irish; but if the

question be of civility, of good manners, of liberality, of

hospitality, and charity towards all, these virtues dwelt among the

Irish.

Kings were restored to carry out the will of parliament. Charles II at

their bidding ignored the treaty of his father that the Irish who

submitted should return to their lands (1661): at the mere appearance

of keeping promise to a few hundred Catholic landowners out of

thousands, the Protestant planters sent out their threats of

insurrection. A deeper misery was reached when William III led his

army across the Boyne and the Shannon (1690). In grave danger and

difficulty he was glad to win peace by the Treaty of Limerick, in

which the Irish were promised the quiet exercise of their religion.

The Treaty was immediately broken. The English parliament objected to

any such encouragement of Irish Papists, and demanded that no pardons

should be given or estates divided save by their advice, and William

said no word to uphold the public faith. The pledge of freedom of

worship was exchanged for the most infamous set of penal laws ever

placed on a Statute-book.

The breaking of the Treaty of Limerick, conspicuous among the

perfidies to Ireland, inaugurated the century of settled rule by the

parliament of England (1691-1782). Its first care was to secure to

English Protestants their revenues in Ireland; the planters,

one-fourth of the people of Ireland, were established as owners of

four-fifths of Irish soil; and one-half of their estates, the land

confiscated under Cromwell and William, they held by the despotic

grant of the English parliament. This body, having outlawed four

thousand Irishmen, and seized a million and a half of their acres,

proceeded to crush the liberties of its own English settlers by

simply issuing statutes for Ireland of its sole authority. The acts

were as tyrannical in their subject as in their origin. One (1691),

which ordered that no Catholic should sit in the Irish Houses,

deprived three-fourths of the people of representatives, and left to

one-fourth alone the right of citizens. Some English judges decided,

without and against Irish legal opinion, that the privy councils in

Dublin and London had power to alter Irish bills before sending them

to the king. "If an angel came from heaven that was a privy councillor

I would not trust my liberty with him one moment," said an English

member of that time.

All liberties were thus rooted out. The planters' rights were

overthrown as pitilessly as those of the Irish they had expelled.

Molyneux, member for Dublin university, set forth in 1698 the "Case of

Ireland." He traced its constitution for five centuries; showed that

historically there had never been a "conquest" of Ireland, and that

all its civil liberties were grounded on compact and charter; and

declared that his native land shared the claims of all mankind to

justice. "To tax me without consent is little better, if at all, than

downright robbing me. I am sure the great patriots of liberty and

property, the free people of England, cannot think of such a thing but

with abhorrence." "There may be ill consequences," he cried, "if the

Irish come to think their rights and liberties were taken away, their

parliaments rendered nugatory, and their lives and fortunes left to

depend on the will of a legislature wherein they are not parties." The

"ill consequences" were seen seventy years later when Molyneux' book

became the text-book of Americans in their rising against English

rule; and when Anglo-Irish defenders of their own liberties were

driven to make common cause with their Irish compatriots--for "no one

or more men," said Molyneux, "can by nature challenge any right,

liberty, or freedom, or any ease in his property, estate, or

conscience which all other men have not an equally just claim to." But

that day was far off. For the moment the Irish parliament deserved and

received entire contempt from England. The gentry who had accepted

land and power by the arbitrary will of the English House of Commons

dared not dispute the tyranny that was the warrant of their property:

"I hope," was the ironic answer, "the honourable member will not

question the validity of his title." With such an argument at hand,

the English parliament had no need of circumspection or of soft words.

It simply condemned Molyneux and his remonstrance, demanded of the

king to maintain the subordination of Ireland, and to order the

journals of its parliaments to be laid before the Houses at

Westminster; and on the same day required of him, since the Irish were

"dependent on and protected by England in the enjoyment of all they

had," to forbid them to continue their woollen trade, but leave it

entire to England. In 1719 it declared its power at all times to make

laws which should bind the people of Ireland.

Thus an English parliament which had fought for its own liberties

established a hierarchy of tyranny for Ireland: the Anglo-Irish tied

under servitude to England, and the Irish chained under an equal

bondage to the Anglo-Irish. As one of the governors of Ireland wrote a

hundred years later, "I think Great Britain may still easily manage

the Protestants, and the Protestants the Catholics." Such was the

servile position of English planters. They had made their bargain. To

pay the price of wealth and ascendency they sold their own freedom and

the rights of their new country. The smaller number, said Burke, were

placed in power at the expense of the civil liberties and properties

of the far greater, and at the expense of the civil liberties of the

whole.

Ireland was now degraded to a subject colony. The government never

proposed that Englishmen in Ireland should be on equal terms with

English in England. Stringent arrangements were made to keep Ireland

low. The Habeas Corpus Act was suspended while the English parliament

ruled. Judges were removable at pleasure. Precautions were taken

against the growth of "an Irish interest." By a variety of devices the

parliament of English Protestants was debased to a corrupt and ignoble

servitude. So deep was their subjection that Ireland was held in

England to be "no more than a remote part of their dominion, which was

not accustomed to figure on the theatre of politics." Government by

Dublin Castle was directed in the sole interest of England; the

greatest posts in the Castle, the Law, the Church, were given to

Englishmen, "king-fishers," as the nickname went of the churchmen. "I

fear much blame here," said the English premier in 1774, "...if I

consent to part with the disposal of these offices which have been so

long and so uniformly bestowed upon members of the British

parliament." Castle officials were expected to have a single view to

English interests. In speeches from the throne governors of Ireland

formally spoke of the Irish people, the majority of their subjects, as

"the common enemy"; they were scarcely less suspicious of the English

Protestants; "it is worth turning in your mind," one wrote to Pitt,

"how the violence of both parties might be turned on this occasion to

the advancement of England."

One tyranny begot another. Irish members, having no liberties to

defend, and no country to protect, devoted themselves to the security

of their property--its security and increase. All was quiet. There was

no fear in Ireland of a rising for the Pretender. The Irish, true to

their ancient horror of violence for religion, never made a religious

war, and never desired that which was ever repugnant to the Irish

spirit, temporal ascendency for a spiritual faith. Their only prayer

was for freedom in worship--that same prayer which Irish Catholics had

presented in the parliament of James I (1613), "indented with sorrow,

signed with tears, and delivered in this house of peace and liberty

with our disarmed hands." Protestants had never cause for fear in

Ireland on religious grounds. In queen Mary's persecution Protestants

flying from England had taken shelter in Ireland among Irish

Catholics, and not a hand was raised against them there. Bitter as

were the poets against the English exterminators, no Irish curse has

been found against the Protestant for his religion, even through the

black time of the penal laws. The parliament, however, began a series

of penal laws against Irish Catholics. They were forbidden the use of

their religion, almost every means of livelihood, every right of a

citizen, every family affection. Their possessions were scattered,

education was denied them, when a father died his children were

handed over to a Protestant guardian. "The law," said the leading

judges, "does not suppose any such person to exist as an Irish Roman

Catholic." They were only recognised "for repression and punishment."

Statutes framed to demoralise and debase the people, so as to make

them for ever unfit for self-government, pursued the souls of the

victims to the second and third generation. In this ferocious violence

the law-makers were not moved by fanaticism. Their rapacity was not

concerned with the religion of the Irish, but only with their property

and industry. The conversion of a Catholic was not greatly desired; so

long as there were Papists the planters could secure their lands, and

use them as slaves, "worse than negroes." Laws which would have

sounded infamous if directed openly to the seizing of property, took

on a sacred character as a religious effort to suppress false

doctrine. One-fiftieth part of Ireland was all that was left to Irish

Catholics, utterly excluded for ever from the inheritance of their

fathers. "One single foot of land there is not left us," rose their

lament, "no, not what one may make his bed upon." "See all that are

without a bed except the furze of the mountains, the bent of the

curragh, and the bog-myrtle beneath their bodies. Under frost, under

snow, under rain, under blasts of wind, without a morsel to eat but

watercress, green grass, sorrel of the mountain, or clover of the

hills. Och! my pity to see their nobles forsaken!"

And yet, in spite of this success, the Anglo-Irish had made a bad

bargain. Cut off from their fellow-countrymen, having renounced the

right to have a country, the Protestant land-hunters were no more

respected in England than in Ireland. The English parliament did with

them as it chose. Their subjection tempted the commercial classes. To

safeguard their own profits of commerce and industry English traders

made statutes to annihilate Irish competition. They forbade carrying

of cattle or dairy stuff to England, they forbade trade in soap or

candles; in cloth, in glass, in linen save of the coarsest kind; the

increase of corn was checked; it was proposed to stop Irish fisheries.

The wool which they might not use at home must be exported to England

alone. They might not build ships. From old time Ireland had traded

across the Gaulish sea: her ports had seen the first discoverers of

America. But now all her great harbours to the west with its rising

American trade were closed: no merchant ship crossing the Atlantic was

allowed to load at an Irish port or to unload. The abundance of

harbours, once so full of commerce, were now, said Swift, "of no more

use to us than a beautiful prospect to a man shut up in a dungeon." In

1720 all trade was at a stand, the country bare of money, "want and

misery in every face." It was unfortunate, Englishmen said, that

Ireland had been by the act of God doomed to poverty--so isolated in

geographical position, so lacking in industrial resources, inhabited

by a people so indolent in tillage, and unfitted by their religion to

work. Meanwhile they successfully pushed their own business in a

country which they allowed to make nothing for itself. Their

manufacturers sent over yearly two millions of their goods, more than

to any other country save their American colonies, and took the raw

material of Ireland, while Irish workers were driven out on the

hillsides to starve. The planters' parliament looked on in barren

helplessness. They had no nation behind them. They could lead no

popular resistance. They had no call to public duty. And the English

knew it well. Ministers heaped up humiliations; they quartered on

Irish revenues all the pensioners that could not safely be proposed to

a free parliament in England--the mistresses of successive kings and

their children, German relations of the Hanoverians, useful

politicians covered by other names, a queen of Denmark banished for

misconduct, a Sardinian ambassador under a false title, a trailing

host of Englishmen--pensions steadily increasing from L30,000 to over

L89,000. Some L600,000 was at last yearly sent over to England for

absentees, pensions, government annuities, and the like. A parliament

servile and tyrannical could not even pretend to urge on the

government that its measures, as a patriot said, should sometimes

"diverge towards public utility." It had abandoned all power save that

of increasing the sorrows of the people.

A double corruption was thus proceeding. The English parliament

desired to make the Irish houses for ever unfit for self-government.

The Irish parliament was seeking to perform the same office for the

Irish people under it. The old race meanwhile, three-fourths of the

dwellers in Ireland, were brought under consideration of the rulers

only as objects of some new rigour or severity. Their cry was unheard

by an absent and indifferent "conqueror," and the only reform the

country ever knew was an increase in the army that maintained the

alien rulers and protected their crimes. In neither parliament had the

Irish any voice. In courts where the law was administered by

Protestant landlords and their agents, as magistrates, grand juries,

bailiffs, lawyers, and the rest--"full of might and injustice, without

a word for the Irish in the law," as an Irish poem said, who would not

even write the Irish names, but scornfully cried after all of them

Teig and Diarmuid--the ancient tongue of the people and their despised

birth left them helpless. Once a chief justice in Tipperary conducted

trials with fairness and humanity: "for about ten miles from Clonmel

both sides of the road were lined with men, women, and children, who,

as he passed along, kneeled down and supplicated Heaven to bless him

as their protector and guardian angel." The people poured from "this

sod of misery" across the sea. In the service of France alone 450,000

Irish soldiers were reckoned to have died between 1691 and 1745.

Uncounted thousands from north and south sailed to America. Irish

Catholics went there in a constant stream from 1650 till 1798. The

Protestant settlers followed them in the eighteenth century.

Like the kings of England, the parliament of the English aristocracy

and commercial magnates had failed to exploit Ireland to their

advantage. For a hundred years (1691-1782) they ruled the Irish people

with the strictest severity that human ingenuity could devise. A

"strong government," purely English, was given its opportunity--prolonged,

undisturbed, uncontrolled--to advance "the king's service," the

dependency of Ireland upon England, and "the comfort or security of any

English in it." A multitude of statesmen put their hands to the work.

Commercial men in England inspired the policy. English clergy were sent

over to fill all the higher posts of the church, and were the chief

leaders of the secular government. Such a power very rarely falls to

the rulers in any country. And in the end there was no advantage to any

party. Some astute individuals heaped up an ignoble wealth, but there

was no profit to Ireland, to England, or to the Empire. The Irish

people suffered a long agony unmatched, perhaps, in European history.

Few of the Protestant country gentry had established their fortunes;

their subservience which debarred them from public duty, their

privilege of calling in English soldiers to protect them from the

results of every error or crime, had robbed them of any high

intelligence in politics or science in their business of land

management, and thus doubly impoverished them. England on her part had

thrown into the sea from her dominion a greater wealth of talent,

industry, and bravery than had ever been exiled from any country in the

world: there was not a country in Europe, and not an occupation, where

Irishmen were not in the first rank--as field-marshals, admirals,

ambassadors, prime ministers, scholars, physicians, merchants, founders

of mining industries, soldiers, and labourers. In exchange for this an

incompetent and inferior landed gentry was established in Ireland.

Instead of profit for the government there was plain bankruptcy--"England,"

it was said, "must now either support this kingdom, or allow her the

means of supporting herself." As for the Empire, the colonies had been

flooded with the men that England had wronged. Even the Protestant

exiles from Ulster went to America as "Sons of St. Patrick." "To shun

persecution and designed ruin" by the English government, Protestants

and Catholics had gone, and their money, their arms, the fury of their

wrath, were spent in organising the American War. Irishmen were at

every meeting, every council, every battle. Their indignation was a

white flame of revolt that consumed every fear and vacillation around

it. That long, deep, and bitter experience bore down the temporisers,

and sent out men trained in suffering to triumph over every adversity.

Brigadier-General Owen Sullivan, born at Limerick during the siege, was

publicly thanked by Washington and by the congress. Commodore John

Barry, a Wexford man, "Father of the American Navy," was Washington's

commander-in-chief of the naval forces of the States. Charles Thompson

of Strabane was secretary of the Continental Congress. Eight Irishmen,

passionate organisers of the revolt, signed the Declaration of

Independence. After the war an Irishman prepared the Declaration for

publication from Jefferson's rough draft; an Irishman's son first

publicly read it; an Irishman first printed and published it.

We have seen the uncontrolled rule of English kings and English

Parliaments. Such was the end of their story. There was another

experiment yet to be tried.

Irish Nationality · 第 10 / 13 章