A \ B \ C \ D \ E \ F \ G \ H \ I \ J \ K \ L \ M \ N \ O \ P \ R \ S \ T \ U \ V \ W \Z

The Land War In Ireland (1870) by James Godkin

J >> James Godkin >> The Land War In Ireland (1870)




This illustrates the force of the national sentiment, and the
tremendous magnitude of the calamities to which its persistent
violation leads. But the case of Hungary is still more apposite as an
illustration of the English policy in Ireland. The Hungarians had
an ancient constitution and parliament of their own. The Emperor of
Austria was their legitimate king, wearing the crown of Hungary. In
this capacity the Hungarians were willing to yield to him the most
devoted loyalty. But he wanted to weld his empire into a compact
unity, and to centralise all political power at Vienna, so that
Austria should be the head and heart of the system, and the other
provinces her hands and her feet. Hungary resisted, and revolted. The
result was a desolating civil war, in which she was triumphant, till
the Czar came to the rescue of his brother despot, and poured his
legions in overwhelming numbers into the devoted country. Hungary was
now at the feet of her sovereign, and Austria, the dominant state,
tried to be conciliatory, in order to bring about the desired
amalgamation and consolidation of the empire. She did so, with
every apparent prospect of success, and it was generally considered
throughout Europe that there was an end of the Hungarian kingdom.
But Hungarian nationality survived, and still resisted Austrian
centralisation. The Hungarians struggled for its recognition
constitutionally, manfully, with admirable self-control, moderation,
and wisdom, until at length they achieved a peaceful victory. Their
sovereign reigns over them as King of Hungary; he and the empress
dwell among them, without Austrian guards. Their children are born
among them, and they are proud to call them natives of Hungary. The
Hungarians, as subjects of _Austria_, were discontented, miserable,
incurably disaffected. As subjects of their own king (though he is
also Emperor of Austria) they are intensely loyal. They are prosperous
and happy, because they are free. And though they have their
distinctions of race and religion, they are united. The Magyars of
Hungary correspond very nearly to the Protestants of Ireland. Though
a minority, their energy, their education, their natural talent
for organisation and government, their love of freedom, their frank
recognition of the rights of conscience, enable them to lead without
inspiring jealousy, just as the Protestants of Ireland were enabled to
lead in 1782, notwithstanding the existence of Protestant Ascendancy.
Religious equality is not a cause of tranquillity in itself. It
tranquillises simply because it implies the absence of irritation.
It takes a festering thorn out of the side of the unestablished
community--a thorn which inflames the blood of every one of its
members. Let worldly interest, political power, and social precedence
cease to be connected with the profession of religion, and religious
differences would cease to produce animosity and intolerance. If the
Magyars had been the Hungarian party of Protestant ascendancy, and if
the Protestant interest had also been the Austrian interest; if the
mission of the Magyars had been to act as a garrison, to keep down the
Roman Catholic majority, their cause could never have triumphed till
Protestant ascendancy should be abolished. But Hungarian Protestantism
did not need such support, although the Pope has as much authority in
Hungary as in Ireland. Of course the cases of Hungary and Ireland
are in many respects dissimilar. But they are alike in this: their
respective histories establish the great fact that the most benevolent
of sovereigns, and the wisest of legislatures, can never produce
contentment or loyalty in a kingdom which is ruled _through_ and _for_
another kingdom.

We can easily understand that when the light of royalty shines upon a
country _through a conquering nation still dominant_, the medium is of
necessity dense, cold, refracting, and discolouring. Of this the
best illustration is derived from the relations between Austria and
Hungary, now so happily adjusted to the unspeakable advantage of
both nations. Austrian rule was unsympathetic, harsh, insolent,
domineering, based upon the arrogant assumption that the Hungarians
were incapable of managing their own affairs without the guidance
of Austrian wisdom and the support of Austrian steadiness. But the
Hungarians, united among themselves, putting their trust, not in
boastful, vapouring, and self-seeking agitators, but in honest,
truthful, high-minded, and capable statesmen, persevered in a course
of firm, but temperate and constitutional, national self-assertion,
until the Austrians were compelled to put away from them their
supercilious airs of natural superiority, and to concede the principle
of international equality and the right of self-government.

What sickens the reader of Irish history most of all is the anarchy
of the old clan system, the everlasting alternation of outrages
and avenging reprisals. One faction, when it felt strong and had a
favourable opportunity, made a sudden raid upon another faction, taken
at a disadvantage, plundering and killing with reckless fury. The
outraged party treasured up its anger till it had power to retaliate,
and then glutted its vengeance without mercy in the same way. When
this fatal propensity to mutual destruction was restrained by law, it
broke out from time to time in other ways. What was wanted to cure it
effectually was a strong, steady, central government, such as England
enjoys herself. But the very system which is most calculated to foster
factiousness is the one which has reigned for centuries in Dublin
Castle. The British sovereign knows no party, and, whatever other
sovereigns have done, Queen Victoria has never forgotten this
constitutional principle. But the Irish lord-lieutenant is always a
party-man, and is always surrounded by party-men. They were Whigs or
Tories, Liberals or Conservatives, often extreme in their views and
violent in their temper. The vice of the old clan system was its
tendency to unsettle, to undo, to upset, to smash and destroy. Instead
of counteracting that vice (which still lingers in the national
blood), by a fixed, unchanging system of administration, based on
principles of unswerving rectitude, which knows no distinction
of party, no favouritism, England ruled by the alternate sway of
factions.

_The Times_, referring to the debate on the Irish Church, remarked
that the viceroyalty was more and more 'a mere ornament.' It is
really nothing more. The viceroy has no actual power, and if he has
statesmanship, it is felt to be out of place. He can scarcely give
public expression to his sentiments on any political questions without
offending one party or the other, whereas the estate of the realm
which he represents is neutral and ought to keep strictly to neutral
ground. As to the effect of the office in degrading the national
spirit among the nobility and gentry, we could not have a better
illustration than the fact that the amiable Lord Carlisle was
accustomed, at the meeting of the Royal Dublin Society, to tell its
members that the true aim, interest, glory, and destiny of Ireland was
to be a pasture and a dairy for England,--a compliment which seemed to
have been gratefully accepted, or was at all events allowed to pass.

But even as an 'ornament' the viceregal system is a failure. The
Viceroy with his family ought to be the head of society in Ireland,
just as the Queen is in England. The royal family are the same to all
parties and classes, showing no partiality on the ground of politics,
but smiling with equal favour and recognition upon all. In Ireland,
however, a liberal lord lieutenant is generally shunned by the
Conservative portion of the aristocracy, which forms the great
majority of the class. On the other hand the Conservatives flock in
large numbers to the court of a Tory Viceroy, while Liberals stand
aloof. Instead therefore of being a centre of union to all sections
of the best society, and bringing them together, so that they may know
one another, and enjoy the advantages due to their rank, the viceregal
court operates as a source of jealousy and division. So that, looking
at the institution as a mere ornament of society, as a centre of
fashionable life and refining influences, facilitating intercourse
between ranks and classes, bringing the owners of land and the men
of commerce more in harmony, it is not worth preserving. On the other
hand it produces some of the worst features of conventionalism. It
cultivates flunkeyism and servility, while operating as a restraint
upon the manly expression of opinion. It fosters a spirit of spurious
aristocracy, which shows itself in contempt for men who prefer honest
industry to place-hunting and insolvent gentility.

But while I thus speak of the viceregal court as at present
constituted, I still maintain that, like Hungary, this country is
so peculiarly situated, and is animated by so strong a spirit of
nationality, that it ought to have a court of its own, and a sovereign
of its own. The case of Hungary shows how easily this great boon might
be granted, and how gratifying the results would be to all the parties
concerned. The Queen ought to reside in Ireland for some portion of
the year. A suitable palace should be provided for the royal family.
The Prince of Wales, during her majesty's reign, ought to be the
permanent Viceroy, with the necessary addition to his income. The
office would afford an excellent training for his duties as king. The
attraction of the Princess of Wales would make the Irish court very
brilliant. It would afford the opportunity of contact with real
royalty, not the shadowy sort of thing we have had--reflected through
Viceroys very few of whom were ever _en rapport_ with the Irish
nation. Not one of them could so speak to the people as to elicit a
spark of enthusiasm. Of course they could not have the true ring of
royalty, for royalty was not in them. But they could not play the part
well. One simple sentence from the Queen or the Prince of Wales, or
even from Prince Arthur, would be worth all the theatrical pomp
they could display in a generation. Those noblemen had no natural
connection with the kingdom, fitting them to take the first place
in it. They were not hereditary chiefs. They were not elected by the
people. They were mere 'casual' chief-governors; and they formed
no ties with the nation that could not be broken as easily as the
spider's thread. The _hereditary principle_ has immense force in
Ireland. The landlords are now seeking to weaken it; or rather they
are ignoring it altogether, and substituting the commercial principle
in dealing with their tenants, preferring not the most devoted
adherents of the family, but the man with most money. But I warn them
that they are doing so at the peril of their order. A prince who was
_heir presumptive to the throne as Viceroy_, and who, when he ascended
the throne, should be crowned King of _Ireland_, as well as King of
Great Britain, crowned in his own Irish palace, and on the _Lia Fail_
or stone of destiny, preserved at Westminster, would save many a
million to the British exchequer, for it would be no longer necessary
to support a large army of occupation to keep the country. If the
throne of Queen Victoria stood in Dublin, there is not a Fenian in
Ireland who would not die in its defence. Standing in Westminster it
is doubtful whether its attraction is sufficient to retain the
hearts even of Orangemen. There, it is the _English_ throne. So the
_Englishman_ regards it with instinctive jealousy. He feels it is his
own; but, say what we may, the Irish loyalist, when he approaches it,
is made to feel, by a thousand signs, that he is a stranger and an
intruder. He returns to his own bereaved country with a sad heart,
and a bitter spirit. Can he be _Anglicised_? Put this question to
an English philosopher, and he will answer with Mr. Froude--'Can the
Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?' We can bridge
the channel with fast steamers; but who will bridge the gulf, hitherto
impassable, which separates the English Dives from the Irish Lazarus?

'We have,' said Canning, 'for many years been erecting a mound--not to
assist or improve, but to thwart nature; we have raised it high above
the waters, and it has stood there, frowning hostility and effecting
separation. In the course of time, however, the necessities of man,
and the silent workings of nature, have conspired to break down this
mighty structure, till there remains of it only a narrow isthmus,
standing

Between two kindred seas,
Which, mounting, viewed each other from afar,
And longed to meet.

What then, shall be our conduct? Shall we attempt to repair
the breaches, and fortify the ruins? A hopeless and ungracious
undertaking! Or shall we leave them to moulder away by time and
accident--a sure but distant and thankless consummation; or, shall
we not rather cut away at once the isthmus that remains, allow free
course to the current which has been artificially impeded, and float
upon the mingling waves the ark of our glorious constitution?'

Much has been done since Canning's time to remove the narrow isthmus.
Emancipation cut deep into it. The disestablishment of the Irish
Church submerged an immense portion of it. If Mr. Gladstone's land
bill be equally effective, a breach will be made through which the
two kindred seas will meet, and, in their commingling flux and reflux,
will quickly sweep away all minor obstacles to their perfect union. A
just settlement of the land question will reconcile the two races, and
close the war of seven centuries. That is the rock against which the
two nationalities have rushed in foaming breakers, lashed into fury
by the storms of faction and bigotry. Remove the obstruction, and the
world would hear no more the roaring of the waters. Then would
float peacefully upon the commingling waves the ark of our common
constitution, in which there would be neither Saxon nor Celt, neither
English nor Irish, neither Protestant nor Catholic, but one united,
free, and mighty people. Then might the Emperor of the French mark the
epoch with the announcement--'England has done justice to Ireland!'




LONDON: PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND
PARLIAMENT STREET

Copyright (c) 2007. bestextbooks.com. All rights reserved.

Gertrude Stein - "Tender Buttons"

Willis J. Abbot - "American Merchant Ships and Sailors"

Various - "Notes and Queries, Number 32, June 8, 1850"

Harold Harvey - "A Soldier's Sketches Under Fire"