CHAPTER VI
Accession of George III—His Character—Boasts of Being “a Briton”—Death of Dr. Lucas—Lord Townsend’s Novel Idea of Governing Ireland—Septennial Parliament Refused
THE long reign of George III, grandson of the late monarch, began in the month of October, 1760, when he had attained the age of 22 years. His father, Frederick Louis, Prince of Wales, was a dissolute and almost imbecile person, and was hated by his own father, George II, with a most unnatural hatred. No doubt he, in great measure, deserved it, for a member of his own family described Frederick Louis as being “the greatest brute and ass in Christendom.” George III, when he mounted the English throne, was a dull, commonplace young man, without pronounced personal vices, but exceedingly obstinate and subject to spells of temper, when strongly opposed, that gave assurance of future mental weakness. He was not, by nature, cruel, but circumstances developed gross cruelty under his régime, in India, in America, and in Ireland. He had enough of the Stuart blood in him to be a stickler for “the right divine” of kings, and he was enough of a Guelph to have his own way with even his most persuasive ministers. His father’s politics, so far as he had any, leaned toward Whiggery, but after that prince’s death his mother had placed him under the tutelage of the Marquis of Bute, who was an ardent Tory. Consequently, the young king had had the advantage of being taught in the two great English schools of policy, but, in the long run, the Tory in his nature prevailed over the Whig, and George III finally developed into a fierce and intolerant despot. All that could be said in his favor was that, after he married—and he married young—his court became, at once, a model of propriety and dulness. The painted harlots, fostered by his grandfather and great-grandfather, were not succeeded by others of their kind, and the prudent mothers of England no longer feared to allow their handsome daughters to enter the precincts of the royal palace. The English masses were, at first, greatly astonished at the personal purity of their sovereign, but, after a while, became reconciled to the belief that a monarch need not, necessarily, be a libertine.
King George evidently borrowed a leaf from the book of Queen Anne when he assumed the crown. She had assured her subjects that hers was “an entirely English heart.” George’s first address from the throne opened with the words, “Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Briton.” Coming from a king, this sentiment, addressed to a people in general so fervidly “loyal” as the English, produced a most favorable effect, and, to the end of his long reign, was never forgotten, even when his mule-like obstinacy wellnigh goaded them to desperation. George III, from first to last, in his love of domination, impatience of opposition, carelessness of the rights of other peoples, egotism, intolerance, and commercial greed, stood for John Bull. Behind John Bull stood England, very much as she still stands to-day. The address continued by declaring that the civil and religious rights of his “loving subjects” were equally dear to him with the most valuable prerogatives of the crown. It was his fixed purpose, he said, to countenance and encourage the practice of true religion and virtue. The eyes of all Europe, he declared, were on that Parliament and from it “the Protestant interest hoped for protection.” At the end of the speech, King George intimated that the toleration of the Catholics—that is, connivance at their existence, particularly in Ireland—would not be interfered with. But the penal statutes remained unrepealed, and the Irish Catholics continued to be persecuted, although rather less brutally, particularly as regarded their religious observances, in their own country. They were not allowed to vote, or hold office, or have any say whatever in public affairs, although they were subject to taxes and fines. They could not be educated, and were debarred from practicing any profession under long-established penalties. In short, they were very little better off during the earlier years of George III’s reign than under the sway of his two immediate predecessors.
The Irish Protestant mind, however, did not lose its patriotic impulse, because of the interested silence of Malone, Boyle, and the former leaders of the Patriot party. Members of Parliament had hitherto been elected to serve during the life of the sovereign, and, in the beginning of the reign of George III, the new Irish Parliament began an earnest agitation for octennial Parliaments. Among the able men—of them destined to be famous—who were elected to the new body were Hussey Burgh, Dennis Bowes Daly, Henry Flood, and Dr. Lucas. It should have been stated that the original Irish demand was for a seven years’ Parliament, and bills were passed, in 1761 and 1763, embodying the proposition, but the king and English Privy Council, to whom they had to be submitted, under the Poynings’ Act, coolly “pocketed” them, and they were heard of no more. This arbitrary conduct of an alien monarch, and advisory body, aroused great public indignation, and the clamor became so loud, in 1767, that, finally, the bill was returned from England, changed to octennial, or eight years, and, with this amendment, it passed the Irish Parliament and received the royal sanction in February of the succeeding year. Under the new act, a Parliament was elected in 1768, and all the advocates of the new dispensation were re-elected. Where all did noble work, it is not detracting from their merit to remark that Dr. Lucas was the real leader of the movement, and was generally recognized as such. He lived only two years after his great triumph, and was almost universally mourned—the only exceptions being the members of the corrupt Court party. He was formally eulogized in the Irish House of Commons, and at his funeral the pall-bearers were Lord Kildare, Lord Charlemont, Henry Flood, Sir Lucius O’Brien, Hussey Burgh, and Speaker Ponsonby.
The Patriot party continued, in the new Parliament, under the administration of Lord Townsend, a vigorous opposition to unjust pension lists, and other evils which afflicted the nation. The Lord Lieutenant, who was jolly and persuasive, also corrupt, attempted to break up the opposition after the good old English fashion, but made no impression on the able phalanx led by Flood, who, after the death of Lucas, was looked upon as the chief of the Patriot element in the Commons. Kildare, notwithstanding his peculiar action in the days of Malone, et al., continued to champion the popular cause in the House of Peers. Resistance to the supply bill, which changed the Irish military establishment from 12,000 to 15,000 men, brought about the prorogation of Parliament session after session for nearly two years. Meanwhile, the Castle was quietly “seeing” the members, and, in spite of Flood and Speaker Ponsonby, an address of confidence, carried by a bare majority, was passed by the Commons. The Speaker refused to present it and resigned his post. A Mr. Perry was elected to succeed him, and, for a time, it looked as if the Patriots might be broken up. But Mr. Perry, in spite of his suspicious conduct in accepting the speakership, vacated by his friend, Mr. Ponsonby, remained faithful to Irish interests and the ranks of the opposition became even more formidable than before.
Lord Townsend, the jolly old corruptionist, became so unpopular that nearly every public print in Dublin was filled with lampoons upon him, and, finally, he requested retirement and was succeeded by Lord Harcourt, in 1772. He began well, but ended badly, as is usual with English viceroys in Ireland, who have seldom failed to fall eventually under Dublin Castle influences. He attempted to throw unjust burdens on Ireland, but was resisted at every point, particularly when he sought to make the supply bill extend over two years instead of one. Henry Flood delivered one of his best speeches in opposition to this dishonest innovation. Hussey Burgh promised that if any member in future brought in such a bill he would move his expulsion. But the climax was reached when the Hon. George Ogle, of Wexford, author of the well-known lyric, “Molly Astore,” which has retained its popularity for more than a century, proposed that the bill, as introduced, be burned by the hangman. The Speaker reminded Mr. Ogle that the document was decorated with the great seal. “Then,” replied the witty poet, “it will burn all the better!” Mr. Ogle’s suggestion was not carried out, but the bill was subsequently modified to suit the ideas of the House of Commons.