The Long Eighteenth Century

by Frank O'Gorman

  The failure of the ‘45 and the subsequent disappearance of the Jacobite route for a Tory return to power seriously weakened the party. Its ultimate decline and disappearance, however, owed more to purely domestic matters. There are signs that in the 1750s the cohesion of the Tory Party was beginning to weaken. The stream of constant failure was wearying a new generation of Tories, who found it difficult to rouse themselves in the 1750s on the great constitutional issues of Anne’s reign. The death of Prince Frederick in 1751 removed their great prospect of power either in the reign of George II or in that of his successor. There were still isolated bursts of Tory Party activity, especially in the constituencies. At a by-election in 1750, for example, the party unexpectedly regained a seat it had formerly held in Middlesex. Yet in the second half of the decade the overriding need for wartime unity began to dissolve Whig mistrust of the Tories. The disappearance of the Jacobite threat removed the last barrier to Tory cooperation with the government. For their part, the Tories needed little persuasion that the need for patriotic unity during the Seven Years War demanded the ending of old party vendettas. Consequently, they began to play down the high-Anglican, populist and anti-executive attitudes which they had nursed during the long years of opposition. Moreover, in the Elder Pitt they at last found a minister who both took them seriously and treated them with consideration. The Tories could not help but notice that in the summer of 1755 Pitt established himself high in the affections of Leicester House, where the future George III was receiving his political education. They also noticed that the Princess Dowager refused to allow the court of the Prince to be used for political purposes. Here, perhaps, could be the agency of the ending of their proscription in the reign to come. The Tory Party in Parliament began to curtail its attacks on the government’s foreign policy and on its conduct of the war. In return, William Pitt began to coax them away from opposition. The implementation of the Militia Act of 1757 once more gave the Tories an important military function in the localities and began the process of reintegrating them with their Whig neighbours.24 They rallied around the Pitt–Newcastle ministry, revelling in its patriotic victories, approving its concentration on naval warfare and enjoying the new ministerial concern for Tory susceptibilities. The formal ending of their proscription came when George III succeeded to the throne in 1760. As soon as the proscription was ended the old Tory Party disintegrated. Some of its members came to court, others joined one of the various Whig groupings, while a few lingered in their traditional and familiar world of opposition. The Tories did not fight the general election of 1761 as a party. By 1763 it is not even meaningful to refer to a ‘Tory’ party at all.

  By then, too, the Whig Party had lost both its unity and its raison d’être. By the 1750s the dynasty was secure and the fruits of the Glorious Revolution confirmed. By then, too, the Whigs were abandoning the two assumptions upon which their supremacy had been predicated: that the Jacobites were a constant and dangerous threat to the throne and that the Tories were a Jacobite party. Furthermore, the death of Henry Pelham in 1754 removed the one man who might have held together the sprawling confederations of the Whigs. It took several years of painful reconstruction before a stable coalition, the Pitt–Newcastle ministry of 1757–61, could be established. Although Pitt was a Whig he was not a member of the old corps and he did not share its morbid fear of Toryism. His rise to power weakened the tenure of the old corps and prepared the ground for the more general fragmentation of the Whigs in the following decade.

  By the later 1750s, then, the structure of party politics which had dominated British public life since the Glorious Revolution was slowly crumbling. The years of party, however, had stamped their effects on British life. Party competition had permanently opened up the political process to public scrutiny and some measure of popular involvement. The country platforms of both parties had compelled court politicians to debate and to justify their measures both in local as well as in central government. The need for politicians to obtain support not only at but also between general elections had prevented the ruling order from ossifying into a brittle and narrow oligarchy. The competition of the parties had thus contributed to the permanent establishment of parliamentary habits and conventions in British public life.

  THE JACOBITES

  The Jacobite movement has been of enormous interest to historians in recent years. Once regarded as an eccentric symptom of an irretrievably lost cause, Jacobitism has now been restored to the very centre of historiographical attention. The persistence of its diplomatic support abroad, the impressive size of its popular support in Britain and the continuing relevance of its ideological challenge place it alongside Whiggism and Toryism as one of the central features in the political and social history of the early Hanoverian period. How dangerous a threat to the Hanoverian regime were the Jacobites? How did Jacobitism survive for so long as a dynastic and political alternative? How much support did it really have? The lack of evidence in so many areas of the subject, the doubtful nature of the evidence where it does survive and thus the mystery in which the subject is shrouded helps to explain its attractiveness both to contemporaries and to recent historians. But it is also difficult to grasp the dimensions of the topic because of the many-sidedness of Jacobitism. It was a political movement, yet its ultimate weapon was violent, military uprising. It had an international context, while its followers were fiercely patriotic. The culture of Jacobitism was to be found equally in polite society as a popular idiom of political protest in the early years of the Hanoverian monarchy and in the riotous behaviour of election crowds. It is a topic of unusual fascination, to some extent because the nature of the evidence precludes the possibility of ever finding conclusive answers to the most important of our questions.

  Jacobitism was a revolutionary conspiracy whose objective was to topple the Hanoverian dynasty with foreign diplomatic and military assistance and to restore, in turn, the exiled James II (1633–1701), his son, James Francis Edward Stuart (1688–1766) and his grandson, Charles Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie, 1720–88). In the long periods when such assistance was not forthcoming the faith had to be preserved and the banners of loyalty and optimism kept flying. During these long periods, then, Jacobitism can only be described as a faith, a set of convictions which generated a sense of mission and of martyrdom, an ideology which touched religious and patriotic chords in the hearts of thousands of men and women. People were prepared to die on the scaffold for this faith. Over 200 of them actually did so between 1689 and 1752, and every execution became yet another episode in the heroic folklore of Jacobitism. All of this kept alive the burning conviction – in defiance of the harsh realities of the present – that at some time in the future the Messiah would come. Had the Jacobite option, however shadowy, not seemed so urgent and so relevant to many contemporaries it would not have lasted as long as it did nor would it have appealed to so many. That it did so is a reflection of the hundreds of songs, poems and stories that carried the Jacobite message, not merely about a future restoration, a future golden age, but about the need to accept misfortune in a harsh and unyielding world. Furthermore, Jacobitism crystallized popular resentment against the regime in Scotland and, as we are just beginning to recognize, in Ireland.

  We should remember that modern labels of ‘left’ and ‘right’ do not neatly apply to eighteenth-century political groups. Some Jacobites may indeed be dismissed as courtly reactionaries, entranced by the culture of the clan, but Jacobitism was to be found among almost all sections of society, including the middling orders and, not least, the lower orders of society. What may be termed the programme of Jacobitism, indeed, proved to be remarkably flexible. As time went on it became much less rigid until it acquired some resemblances to a reform programme more suited to the conditions of the later eighteenth century. In the early years of his exile James II uncompromisingly aimed for a military restoration of his throne. But the key to a Stuart restoration lay in England. By 1693, under pressure from Louis XIV, he was
promising to respect the constitutional position of Parliament, to preserve the established church and to agree to an indemnity for supporters of the Glorious Revolution. In patent attempts to capitalize on the unpopularity of the Whig oligarchy after 1714, the Jacobite leaders began to adopt a position almost indistinguishable from that of ‘Country’ politicians. In 1753 Charles Edward wrote a memorandum in which he proposed annual Parliaments, the abolition of placemen and severe reductions in the standing army in the (by then unlikely) event of his restoration.

  To which groups did Jacobitism particularly appeal? In answering this question we need to remember the religious foundations of the movement. Jacobitism, in fact, depended on religious adherents from three churches. In England and to some extent Lowland Scotland, old Roman Catholic families and their dependents constituted the inner core of Jacobitism. After almost 200 years of underground existence the old faith was an ideal breeding-ground for the cause of Jacobitism, and its adherents were conspicuously well represented in every area of Jacobite activity. Catholics were prominent in the ‘15, although they held themselves aloof from the ‘45. (Irish Catholics did not move during either rebellion.) In Scotland, however, the overwhelming majority of Jacobites were Scots Episcopalians. Members of this church had seen themselves as victims of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland ever since 1690, and wore their Jacobitism as a political and dynastic mark of their spiritual alienation. Finally, in some parts of England the descendants of the non-jurors, pious Anglicans who had been unable to accept the Glorious Revolution, tended to support Jacobitism. Their numbers, and thus their influence, diminished considerably after 1715.

  Indeed, loyalty to the Jacobite cause had distinctly political as well as religious overtones. As we have seen, Jacobitism profited for many years through its association with, or rather infiltration of, the Tory Party in England. The links between Jacobitism and Toryism were particularly strong between 1714 and 1722. Though weaker thereafter, they remained the subject of a degree of political speculation which was never really justified. Although they shared a common hostility to the Whig oligarchy after 1714 and a belief in divine right monarchy, Jacobites and Tories yet differed profoundly on religion. The Tories were a party of the Church of England, and the Catholicism of the Pretenders stood in the way of their enthusiastic cooperation. The Young Pretender, indeed, was remarkably cavalier about the Tories both before and during the ‘45: he did little to cultivate them, he failed to consult them before landing in Scotland, and had no safe channel of communication with them. If the Pretender did not take them seriously in 1744–5, it is perhaps difficult to see why the historian should.

  In attempting to identify the composition of the Jacobites, it would be unwise to ignore the noticeably large number of ‘economic Jacobites’ who were involved in the movement. Such people were Jacobites because they yearned for high office, for profits and for favours when the restoration came. They included a large number of debtors and bankrupts who were convinced that their debts would be liquidated under the new regime. Three members of the Pretender’s council in 1745 were bankrupts. One of them, Lord Kilmarnock, openly admitted: ‘For the two Kings and their rights I cared not a farthing which prevailed; but I was starving, and by God if Mahommed had set up his standard in the Highlands, I had been a good Muslim for bread and stuck close to the party for I must eat.’25

  On the other hand, a real or pretended loyalty to the Stuart dynasty could justify every different level of opposition to the Whig regime. We should not discount the number of people who would never have dreamed of taking any direct actions in aid of a Jacobite rebellion, but who nevertheless manifested some degree of support for the cause. Rioters, pamphleteers, protesters and even illegal groups which generated their own commercial culture, such as smugglers, adopted Jacobite slogans and language, particularly in the years 1714 to 1720. They did so, presumably, because no other prominent discourse of protest was so readily available to them. Thereafter the currency of Jacobitism at the popular level declined, but it did not disappear. In the later 1730s there is still evidence of Jacobite rioting among the tinminers of Cornwall, the clothiers of the West Country and the keelmen of Newcastle. All of this strongly suggests that at times Jacobitism could be as much a convenient cloak for lower-class social protest against an inequitable social and legal system as a genuine wish to see the restoration of a Roman Catholic dynasty. And, it must be concluded, that if it was absolutely necessary for the Jacobites to conquer England and if the Hanoverians were to be ejected from the throne then the strength of Jacobitism in England would be decisive.

  However, the real home of Jacobitism lay, of course, in Scotland. Scottish Jacobitism was an amalgamation of three distinct forces: dynastic nationalism, religious sentiment and clan rivalry. As to the first, the Jacobite cause might have quickly subsided but for the short-term reaction in Scotland to the Act of Union of 1707. Jacobites were able to exploit bruised national feelings on several different levels. After 1707 the old Presbyterian form of nationalism disappeared as that church made its peace with the Whigs. The Jacobites now became the standard-bearers of popular nationalism, and continually promised to repeal the Act of Union. Not surprisingly, Jacobitism had a wide appeal in Scotland. It was not just confined to the Highlands and the less economically developed areas of the country. For example, the Scottish cultural renaissance or the early eighteenth century may be traced in part to Jacobite sources. Most printers and booksellers in Edinburgh were Jacobites, as were many members of the polite societies of the age, and most members of the legal profession. As to the second, there was always a powerful religious basis to Scottish Jacobitism. It appealed naturally to the Scottish Catholics but, more importantly, to the Scottish Episcopalians, who were especially strong in the north-east of the country. Since the establishment of the Presbyterian form of Kirk government in 1690, almost one-half of all the ministers in Scotland were left disaffected and resentful, a prime breeding-ground for Jacobitism. As to the third, the Jacobitism of many of the clans represented a defensive reaction against the expansionist designs of the most powerful clan of all, the Whig Campbells (Dukes of Argyll), in the south-west of the Highlands. The 2nd Duke abandoned the old patterns of clanship by letting land directly to his tenants, a social and economic regime which, had it continued to spread unchecked, would have threatened the destruction of the traditional patriarchy of kinship rights. The clan leaders depended on traditional, hereditary right for their authority and looked to the Stuarts as the bulwarks of their power. Not all the clans were Jacobite by any means, and those that supported the cause were often chronically divided; but the dependence of the Stuarts upon the military power of the clans was an indispensable element in their endless plots and plans for over sixty years.

  Nevertheless, it would be a serious underestimation of Scottish Jacobitism to dismiss it merely as the political and military offspring of a declining Highland culture. It would be more accurate to note that Scotland rarely spoke with a single voice. Anti-English feeling may have underpinned Jacobitism but it never outweighed the divisions between Scottish Catholics, Scottish Episcopalians and Scottish Presbyterians as well as those between Highlanders and Lowlanders. Similarly, it would be a grotesque caricature to treat either the ‘15 or the ‘45 as a cultural clash between a backward-looking Highland civilization, on the one hand, and a more progressive, modern society, on the other. In the ‘15, in fact, James Edward had drawn his support from Lowland burghs and the economically developed north-east of Scotland. In 1745 the larger towns remained loyal to the government, but many Lowland areas were remarkably sympathetic to the rebels. Interestingly, Charles Edward found the most northerly and north-westerly clans of the Highlands against him.

  In England Jacobitism was an umbrella phenomenon, a cloak for all manner of dissatisfaction with the status quo, but it was a much less positive alternative to the Hanoverian regime than it was in Scotland. Obviously, it lacked the patriotic momentum which was such a force in Scotl
and: the Protestantism of so many English Jacobites diluted their support for a Catholic Pretender. Nevertheless, The growth of English Jacobitism from the initial aftermath of the Glorious Revolution, when its following was negligible, to 1715, when it conspired to topple the new dynasty, was remarkable. Its appeal first to Catholics, then to non-jurors and Tories, and then to wider sections of the population made it a force to be reckoned with. It also went far towards absorbing disappointed former radical Whigs who, having failed to achieve major changes in the political and social order at the time of the Glorious Revolution, now hoped to have more success in the event of a (preferably insecure) Stuart restoration. Yet the best hope for Jacobitism in England remained the Tory Party. Sadly for the Jacobites, the Tories only adopted the Jacobite option with any relish when their political situation was at its nadir. They did so on two occasions, during the great proscription of 1715–22 and after the defection of the opposition Whigs and the failure of ‘Broad-bottom’ in 1744. On both of these occasions some of the Tory leaders allowed themselves to fish in the ponds of Jacobite intrigue, but little came of it. This Jacobite tendency within the Tory Party was constantly challenged and, on the whole, weakened by the party’s habits of constitutional behaviour during normal times and by its distaste for French intervention in the affairs of Britain. In the end, Jacobitism in England after 1722 turned out to be less of a threat to the revolution settlement than a stick with which the Whigs could beat the Tories and thus confirm the power of the oligarchy. As for the Catholics, they remained for many years resolutely loyal to the Stuart cause, thinking themselves dependent on a Stuart monarchy to ensure their survival. Yet when it came to it, in 1715, only a few hundred of them joined the Anglo-Scottish Jacobite army sweeping south to Preston and Derby. Thereafter, Roman Catholics played little further role in Jacobite conspiracies. In 1745 almost all of them refused to lift a finger to aid the Jacobites.