CCHA, Historical Studies, 64 (1998),
71-90
A Question of Class? Relations between
Bishops and Lay Leaders
in Ireland and Newfoundland 1783-1807
Vincent J. McNALLY
Using Ireland and Newfoundland as examples, this
paper tries to demonstrate how class played a significant role in the relations
between Catholic bishops and lay leaders in both societies. Sometimes unwillingly
perhaps, members of the Catholic hierarchy in both Ireland and Newfoundland
tended to be more the followers than the leaders in the political and social
evolution of both societies, usually defending the political status quo until
circumstances forced them to change course.
To understand
properly the period in question, we must first briefly examine the two
centuries leading up to it as well as some of the similarities and differences between
Ireland and Newfoundland. From the outset it must be said that long before the
period being studied, both islands were essentially British colonies, but with
very different histories. Ireland, due to her geographical proximity to
England, had for centuries posed a major threat to Britain’s national security,
particularly as a potential staging ground for either a Spanish or French
invasion. On the other hand, while Newfoundland’s cod-based economy was
considered valuable to Britain’s North American interests, due to its great
distance, it represented no such threat.
Since
the sixteenth century, Newfoundland and the rich sea life of the Grand Banks,
especially cod, had been the central draw for European exploitation of the
island where England and France were the chief rivals. Under the terms of the
1713 peace of Utrecht and the 1763 treaty of Paris, Newfoundland had finally
became by 1780 a secure British possession over which London took a minimum
level of interest. Fishing being a highly seasonal industry, there were few
permanent settlers in Newfoundland before the eighteenth century, since most
people returned to Europe after their annual catch. By the mid-eighteenth
century, in order to protect their interests, a growing number of fishermen, mainly
from the English West Country, began to settle in Newfoundland. By then, there
was also a somewhat steady increase in Irish-Catholic seasonal workers, mainly
fishermen from County Waterford who also began to remain there for similar
reasons. By the mid-nineteenth century, due mainly to immigration occasioned by
the great famine, their numbers became a comparative flood so that Irish
Catholics soon came close to being the dominant population on the island.1
This
gradual increase of Irish seasonal migration and ultimate settlement in
Newfoundland also had it roots in economic, political, and social changes in
Ireland. In the fishing industry, it started with the migration of shoals
across the Atlantic to Newfoundland beginning in 1600, a migration which
continued to increase throughout the next two centuries. Added to this was a
gradual shift in the Irish-Catholic class leadership from an essentially
land-based one in the seventeenth and most of the eighteenth centuries, to its
ultimate late eighteenth-century configuration which contained an increasing
number of merchants, professionals, and mid-sized farmers. Land, however, and
not business continued to hold the imagination of most Irish Catholics. This
was largely due to the belief that a person could only become a “true
gentleman” if he could lease property, which, due to the penal laws, was the
only option open to most Catholics. Excluding a tiny minority of less than five
percent who had not suffered forfeiture in the late seventeenth century, Irish
Catholics could not legally own land. In fact, this attitude regarding land was
so strong that many Irish merchants would sell-out as soon as possible so that
they could become “landed gentry” and thus “gentlemen,” even if this meant that
they were only able to afford a limited thirty-three year lease on no more than
a few dozen acres.2
In
Ireland the seventeenth century also witnessed the final battles between the
native ruling class made up of old Irish and recusant English nobility and
gentry, who were mainly Catholic, and the settlement and new ruling class who
were largely composed of Anglo-Protestant colonialists. The latter group’s
victory at the Boyne at the end of the century represented the final act in a
century-long British imperial confiscation of Ireland. When that century
opened, the native ruling class controlled almost two-thirds of the land; by
its close they held less than five percent, unless they had avoided automatic
forfeiture and were in a politically “correct” position to save their land by
changing their denomination and becoming “Anglo-Protestant.” Since the power of
both groups was grounded upon a landed economy, such a major shift also
represented a change in the composition of the actual ruling class. However,
the true power base of the new settlement class was significantly different
than the one that they replaced, since it was no longer local but essentially
mirrored the needs, demands, and politics of their masters in London upon whom
they depended for their ultimate survival. As a result, “resentment” among
Anglo-Protestants was high in face of this reality, but their “constitutional
dependence upon England” was beyond all doubt.3
A
political pawn in English and European diplomacy would be the best description
of Ireland throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.4 The Battle of the Boyne, for example, was far more
important to English than to Irish interests. Thus, while the ostensible
victors at the Boyne were the Anglo-Protestant settlement class, the actual
ones were their parliamentary masters in Whitehall.
There
were, however, some very notable exceptions to this reality. For in the late
eighteenth century parliamentary reform, especially the Constitution of 1782,
did seem finally to herald Irish parliamentary independence from London.
Revolutionary events in France would swiftly undo such hopes, however, and
force Anglo-Protestants once more into their grudgingly subservient role.
Therefore, especially after the ‘98 Rebellion, most Anglo-Irish Protestants,
out of fear of losing English support, and in the face of growing
Irish-Catholic influence and their actual political threat now that most of the
penal code had been abolished, reverted, though most did so unwillingly, to
their former subservient status. It is true that Whitehall paid enormous bribes
in order to gain compliance. Still the frightening speed with which most
Anglo-Protestants MPs agreed to end the life of Ireland’s historic parliament
in 1801 and accept a legislative Union demonstrated just how far most members
were willing to go to please their London masters.5
As for
Catholics during this period, the greatest impact of the penal code was upon
Catholic landowners who, due to seventeenth-century confiscation, had become
few and whose holdings by then were quite small. Yet their social importance,
especially as “aristocratic” leaders in Catholic circles, remained
considerable, especially in the church. While Catholic landowners were greatly
outnumbered by Catholic leaseholders at all levels of income, these few old
landed families had considerable influence over Catholic church affairs
throughout the seventeenth and most of the eighteenth centuries. Due to such control, as well as the general
public indifference of most Catholics outside this tiny landed class towards
formal church attendance, the church enjoyed little real social importance
during this period. What it did possess was almost totally dependent upon the
fact that many, if not most church appointments at all levels, from bishops to
parish priests, were very frequently under the patronage of this quite
diminutive landed class. In effect, the church throughout most of the country
had become “an adjunct to the rich [landed] lay families in Irish Catholic
society.” A major result of this situation was that the church was largely
bereft of effective, independent, and national leadership until the late eighteenth
century.6
This
situation would change with the advent of Archbishop John Thomas Troy of Dublin
(1787-1823). In fact, Troy took the first effective stance in asserting a
united, effective, and truly independent episcopal leadership. He tried and in
great measure succeeded in freeing the church from its formerly disunited and
dependent state. One of the first steps in achieving this objective was his
decision to take a direct interest in the Catholic Committee’s affairs while
still bishop of Ossory (1776-1786). When he become archbishop of Dublin
(1787-1823), he formally joined the Catholic Committee, the only bishop ever to
do so, in order to influence its decisions and thus strengthen and widen the
social influence and thus importance of his church.7
The
Catholic Committee had its beginnings in 1760.
Most of its members came from the “old landed class,” led by such people
as Charles O’Conor of Belanagare. A minority of its initial membership, symbolised by another important
early figure, Dr. James Curry, a prominent Dublin physician, was drawn from the
rising middle class, which by the 1780s would constitute an overwhelming
majority. Therefore, while Curry’s participation marked only a beginning, and
landed-class influence remained significant into the nineteenth century, it did
signal the early stage of a gradual embourgeoisement of Irish-Catholic
leadership and thus the steady widening of the Catholic social base. For while
the diminutive landed class leadership dominated until the late eighteenth
century, Curry’s presence indicated that, due to its growing importance, the
old landed class had to recognise and accommodate rising middle-class
interests. By the beginning of the early nineteenth century, the old landed
class would gradually be forced to relinquish effective leadership to the
middle class. It was a fact that was
also reflected in a major shift in the selection of church leaders in the
coming years who would be increasingly drawn from the middle class until, by
the mid-nineteenth century, it became the dominant source.8
As for
the Catholic Committee, the initial operating philosophy of this new endeavour
also reflected the more cautious character of the old landed class, especially
the well-established desire not to give offence to those in power, and thus for
years the Catholic Committee’s objectives remained quite modest. Beginning in
1760 and continuing over the next thirty years, the Committee’s only hope,
expressed through humble and loyal petitioning, was to convince the Irish
government and parliament to gradually abrogate the penal laws against
Catholics, especially those effecting the ownership of land. Ultimately, it was
hoped that Catholics could once more become full citizens in colonial Ireland.
The
Irish colonial parliament, until forced by their English masters, made no real
effort to oblige the Catholics. Beginning in 1774, and, though the first shots
of the American Revolution had not yet been fired, the calling of a Continental
Congress in that year did give London reason for concern. While aid to the
American colonists from France, her traditional enemy, would not become a
reality until after the American victory at the Battle of Saratoga in 1777,
fear of such a possibility prompted Whitehall to act. In 1774, with traditional
foreboding about a possible French collaboration with the Catholic majority in
Ireland, London ordered its Dublin parliament to begin lessening the rigors of
its penal code. Such a policy, however, soon backfired by both frightening and
then inspiring the Anglo-Protestant settlement class, who used America as its
model to demand a greater measure of independence, and thus protection of its
dominant though very fragile social power base in Ireland. Therefore, by 1782,
with the American war reaching its climax, Whitehall agreed to abolish its long
cherished absolute veto power over Ireland’s parliamentary legislation, thus
giving the Dublin parliament an effective independence which would last until
its demise with the act of Union in 1801.9
From
its inception in 1760, the sole desire of the Catholic Committee was to prove
its loyalty to the Irish constitution. Both its aims and means, however, were
opposed by most of their Catholic bishops. This was because most bishops,
being, as usual, defenders of the status quo, still entertaining strong, though
by now naïve Jacobite hopes of restoration, remained unwilling even to imagine
the possibility of swearing allegiance to a heterodox George III. The exception
was in Munster where the bishops all supported their metropolitan, James Butler
II of Cashel (1774-91). While Archbishop Butler came from noble roots, time and
experience had altered his thinking so that he had become a firm “Irish”
Gallican as well as an anti-Jacobite. Thus, he recognised that, since the old
status quo expectations of a Stuart restoration were politically and hopelessly
wrongheaded, there was now a new necessity of shifting loyalty to the present
constitution with the ultimate hope of complete Catholic emancipation.10
As
noted, the only bishop outside of Munster who openly agreed with Butler, and
who was also prepared to act upon his convictions, was the new bishop of
Ossory, John Thomas Troy (1776-1786). While still in Rome, where he had spent
twenty years as a Dominican seminarian and priest, Troy had agreed with the
political position of his Dominican colleague and predecessor in Ossory, Thomas
Burke (1759-1776). Like most status quo, old order Irish bishops of the period,
Burke was a firm Jacobite who believed that swearing allegiance to a
“heretical” king to be the “greatest imaginable absurdity.” Once in Ossory,
however, Troy soon agreed with the Irish Catholic Committee and the bishops of
Munster that such views were no longer viable either socially or politically.
Troy’s public position naturally endeared him to the Committee and his
colleagues in Munster, but alienated him from the rest of the bishops,
especially in Leinster, and particularly Archbishop John Carpenter, Troy’s
predecessor in Dublin (1770-1786). In 1778, the Dublin parliament passed the
first in a series of Catholic relief acts. All who wished to benefit from them
were required to swear allegiance to George III and to swear as well that they
did “not believe that the pope of Rome hath or ought to have any temporal or
civil jurisdiction, power superiority or pre-eminence directly or indirectly
within” Ireland. At least in spirit if not in fact, most Irish bishops remained
Jacobites, either still hoping for a Stuart return or viewing the present
political and social situation as an opportunity for “good” Catholics to
practice a form of Jansenistic spiritual dualism. Thus, by refusing to
compromise in any way, “loyal” Catholics could “meritoriously suffer” for their
faith with the ultimate hope of gaining merit in heaven. Yet fearful of totally
alienating themselves from their laity, especially the “rich [landed] lay
families” whose patronage was still a reality and who now supported such
change, most bishops now grudgingly accepted the new order and swore the oath.
Troy, however, had no such qualms for, as noted, he was already taking part in
the Committee’s deliberations while in Ossory, and when he became archbishop of
Dublin in 1787, he officially joined it, its first and only episcopal member.11
Troy’s
role on the Committee was very important, for he acted as a bridge between the
ultimate rejection by the bulk of Irish bishops of the old Jacobite position
and the hierarchy’s gradually willingness to cooperate with the aspirations of
a new rising generation of Irish lay leadership, especially those who were
represented by the middle-class members on the Committee. Of course, Troy’s
essential reason for doing this was to strengthen the still very weak social
position of the church in the eyes of most of the Catholic laity, and thus his
ultimate interest was to increase lay support for his church, especially
financial.
As the
first and only bishop ever to be a member of the Committee, Troy’s membership
revealed the tensions that had long existed between the hierarchy and most
members of the Committee. For their part, and from its inception, the bishops
had feared that the Committee would ultimately compromise the church by
agreeing to a form of “Irish” Gallicanism. In the extreme, such a policy shift
might permit the Protestant British crown to have at least a limited veto over
episcopal nominations. This right, however, might be contingent upon the state
providing the Catholic clergy with an annual pension similar to the regium
donum that the government had long provided to the Presbyterian clergy of
Ireland. As for the Committee, they believed that their bishops’ behaviour,
despite protests to the contrary, meant that in reality they were not truly
committed to Catholic legislative relief. In a sense, this was true, since any
initial relief act would only protect the security of land tenure, vital to
their leading laity, but which would have no immediate impact upon or benefit
for the church. Troy hoped that by joining the Committee, he might enhance the
church’s social standing among its members. Also, as a full member, he might
help to influence its decisions and so thereby address his colleagues’ fears by
insuring that the Committee’s lay members did not interfere directly in church affairs.12
Whatever
influence Troy had over the Committee, however, was to be very short lived due
mainly to the cataclysm of the French Revolution. Before 1791, the Committee
had been greatly influenced and led, if not totally controlled, by the old
landed elements. By the time of the
Revolution, however, its middle-class participants, who had formed an
overwhelming majority of its members for at least twenty years, began to become
increasingly vocal, radical, and democratic in their political outlook. In
1790, for example, Troy had been able to convince the Committee not to accept a
new oath of loyalty based on an English Catholic one which denied even the
possibility of papal infallibility since, by doing so, Troy insisted, they
would be interfering in purely ecclesiastical matters. Yet within the next two
years, essentially because of the radical events on the Continent as well as in
Ireland, such as the United Irishmen movement, the Committee began “to demand”
that the Irish government and parliament give them immediate and complete
emancipation. In fact, although still small and to remain so, a growing number
on the Committee even supported United Irishmen views that Ireland should
become a full democracy either under a constitutional monarchy or a republic
with an elected president.13
Troy,
as the son of a prosperous Dublin merchant, was inclined to be supportive of
the growing middle-class leadership among Catholic Committee members, but his
political views had very definite limits. While Troy rejected continued loyalty
to a Jacobite past, he was certainly no democrat. By 1799, when forced to
choose because of the radical events of the 1790s, Troy finally decided to
support a form of “Irish” Gallicanism.
By doing so, he believed he could protect his church from radical lay
democratic agendas, even if that meant that the church had to become
increasingly identified with the state. He had witnessed how valuable such
support could be, when in 1795 he founded Maynooth College with vital government
financial assistance. This had become an absolute necessity for clerical
education after all of the Irish colleges in France had been closed due to the
Revolution. While Catholic lay financial support was offered, it contained new
demands. Reflecting lay involvement in their former colleges in France, as well
as the new spirit of radicalism, lay support was now contingent upon the
bishops’ willingness to share control with the laity as well as accepting lay
admissions to the college, both Protestant and Catholic. When the government
offered not only to fund Maynooth but also to give the bishops complete control
over their new seminary, Troy had been provided with a graphic indication of
how valuable state largesse could be, even when it was Protestant. As a result,
with the founding and funding of Maynooth as a backdrop, Troy became convinced
that even if further state involvement were necessary, he was prepared to
oblige, even if it resulted in the end in the creation of a form of Catholic
church establishment in Ireland by which the church would accept a state salary
for its clergy in exchange for it granting the crown a limited royal veto over
episcopal nominations.14
As early
as 1791, however, such views were already becoming anathema to the increasingly
radical objectives of the Committee’s middle-class majority. For them such a
state-church, if it ever became a reality, would cease to represent Irish
Catholics, and especially as expressed in the first stirrings of Irish
nationalism, which had largely been prompted by events in France. Therefore, in
that year, and still the only bishop on the Committee, Troy felt compelled to
side with sixty-six other reactionary Committee members. All were from the old
landed leadership class, and thus reflected the Committee’s former stance of
cautious, status quo loyalty to the Irish constitution. Acting on this loyalty,
they signed a petition addressed to those in power in which they declared that
they would leave all future Catholic relief “to the wisdom and discretion of
the legislature.”15
There
was an immediate and powerful reaction which demonstrated just how out of touch
Troy and his fellow signers were with Irish-Catholic public opinion, for their
action met with almost universal condemnation throughout Ireland. Along with
the lay petitioners, Troy and his fellow bishops were collectively pilloried
for “cowardice and neglect” by an overwhelming body of lay critics and even by
some of the lower clergy. Instead, the latter supported the democratic
opposition on the Catholic Committee, which saw the church as at best in need
of total “democratic” reform by which all of its clergy would be elected by its
members, or worse, reflecting lay indifference to all formal religion, that the
church’s survival was essentially irrelevant to the future of a “democratic”
Ireland.16
Over
the next few years, Troy made several almost desperate attempts to regain
middle-class leadership support on the Committee but to no avail. In 1792, for
example, the Committee insisted that a statement rejecting papal infallibility,
and even implying that such a potential doctrine was “sinful” and “immoral,”
should become part of a new oath to gain further Catholic relief. Therefore,
such a lay stance was viewed as an important symbol of their growing scorn
towards the old order in both church and state. Fearing that his rejection of
the new oath would totally alienate him from the middle-class majority on the
Committee, Troy finally agreed to something that he had publicly and easily
rejected barely two years before. Again in 1793, the middle-class members of
the Committee demanded that Troy remove his title: “Catholic Archbishop of
Dublin” from his signature on a relief petition and instead substitute it with
“Titular Archbishop.” Their insistence was based upon a concern that left
unaltered, Troy’s presumption, which was illegal, would provide their enemies
in Parliament with a ready weapon with which to attack Catholic expectations.
Troy privately expressed both his anger and humiliation over the incident, and
ultimately refused to designate himself a “Titular Archbishop.” Nevertheless,
he finally signed: “John Thomas Troy, D.D., for himself and the Roman Catholic
Clergy of Ireland.” Afterwards Troy defended such decisions before his
superiors in Rome as acts of “prudence.”17
Humiliated
by his predicament and determined to protect the church from any further
association with radicalism, ultimately Troy responded by becoming an
increasingly staunch defender of the “old order” in Ireland, even to the point
of punishing his “democratic” enemies on the Committee. During the concluding
years of the eighteenth century, Troy lead the way in defending established
British colonial authority in Ireland. Beginning in 1793, he published a
pastoral, Duties of Christian Citizens, in which he took care to
criticise Protestantism as “heresy.” His aim seemed clear, namely to embarrass
the middle-class Catholic “democrats” on the Committee, since the pastoral was
deliberately made public just before the Irish Lords began their debate on the
passage of the latest Catholic relief act. Thus, it seems fair to conclude that
in publishing Duties Troy at least hoped to embarrass if not actually
jeopardise or possibly even defeat further Catholic relief. In fact, for years Duties
would remain a ready weapon for all those who wished to block complete Catholic
emancipation.
Troy
repeated a similar approach during the ‘98 Rebellion. Even in the face of
government-sponsored terrorism against Irish Catholics, many of whom were
totally innocent of any involvement in the uprising, Troy remained either
silent or by means of very strongly worded pastorals totally defended the
government’s right to use whatever means necessary to regain control. He also
supported government reprisals against “suspected” rebels, even if this might
entail shedding innocent blood. The same reactionary mentality also prompted
Troy and most of his colleagues, along with the old Catholic landed leadership
elements, to support the 1801 legislative Union. Both he and his fellow
supporters insisted that their action was contingent upon gaining complete
emancipation. Still, keeping with his determination to support the old order,
his negotiations throughout seemed far more designed to please Ireland’s
English masters in London even if this meant, as noted, making his church
“established.” This was also done with the hope of gaining an annual pension
for the clergy in exchange for a royal veto over episcopal nominations, since
Troy also believed that this would financially free the church from being in
any way dependant upon its laity, especially the “democrats.” Further, there
seemed little awareness or interest among Troy or those who supported him in
the fact that, by eliminating the Irish parliament, the Union effectively ended
for well over a century any hope of the even moderate constitutional
aspirations of 1782.
Thus
during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Troy and his
episcopal colleagues chose to side almost exclusively with the old guard landed
Irish Catholic leadership. By then it was the only part of the Irish Catholic
party which, partly in the vain hope of emancipation, was willing to support
the policies of accommodation and even appeasement demanded by London’s
reactionary policies. Nevertheless, by
this time any real influence they had formerly enjoyed among their fellow
Catholics had been greatly weakened. Although the old landed class would
continue to influence Catholic affairs well into the next century, it was never
as strong as it had been before the 1790s. This period marked a final and
effective transfer of control to the now dominant middle-class leadership on
the Committee, which was essentially complete by the time of the Union. For
while it is true that they would be forced into temporary retreat due to the
horrors of the ‘98 Rebellion, which cast all liberalism under a cloud,
nonetheless a new generation of middle-class leaders would reassert themselves
during the first decade of the nineteenth century. Ultimately, they would be
lead by Daniel O’Connell, who though a Co. Kerry land owner, as a barrister and
budding parliamentarian also
represented the rising aspirations of the Catholic middle class.18
Troy’s
role as a bridge, however, was most important as forming a valuable connection
between the old landed order’s leadership prominence among Catholics to the far
firmer assumption of that role by a rising Catholic middle class. Though
outwardly cordial, Troy and O’Connell never trusted each other. This was
naturally due to Troy’s previous experiences with the Catholic, middle-class
“democrats” on the Committee during the last decade of the eighteenth century.
It also reflected O’Connell’s hostility towards all those “old order” Catholics
such as Troy and the old landed gentry who, in O’Connell’s eyes, had foolishly
supported the “murder” of the newly rising Irish nation in their championing of
the Union. In addition, O’Connell wished to use the Catholic church as a
central symbol of Irish Catholic nationalism as well as a vehicle of social
cohesion among a growing Irish middle class. Troy, as noted, in his drive to
protect the church from any potential control by the Catholic “democrats,” had
doggedly favoured a royal veto over episcopal elections in exchange for a state
pension for its clergy. If Troy had been successful, he would in effect have
turned Irish Catholicism not only into an established church, but, much worse,
prevented it from becoming an engine for promoting Irish emancipation, repeal,
and especially nationalism, all roles that O’Connell now envisioned for it.19
Nevertheless,
Troy’s work was essential in helping to link O’Connell with the next generation
of Irish bishops in the person of Troy’s successor in Dublin, Daniel Murray
(1823-1852). Like Troy, Murray also
hoped to improve Catholic moral and financial support for their institutional
church, which, as seen, had been traditionally very low among all classes of
Catholics before O’Connell’s rise to power. Murray rejected Troy’s reactionary
stance, however, just as in the
previous century Troy had formerly opposed the earlier Jacobite position of his
colleagues. Instead, Murray enthusiastically supported O’Connell’s vision using
the church as the focal point of both Irish-Catholic nationalism as well as a
major unifying force among its rising middle class. Consequently, Irish Catholicism would be used not only as a
cohesive force among the Irish-Catholic middle class in achieving emancipation
in 1829, but also in the early attempts to repeal the Union, as well as other
nineteenth century liberal causes, such as land reform.20
There
were some definite parallels between the Irish situation and the development of
the Catholic church in Newfoundland during this same period. The year 1783
marked the official beginning of the Catholic church in Newfoundland. It was in
that year that its royal governor, John Campbell, whose predecessor, Charles
Edwards, had been ordered by London in 1779 to institute “free exercise of
Religion to all persons,” including Catholics, gave permission to a group of
Catholic merchants to construct a Catholic chapel in St John’s. In line with
this, they were now legally able to obtain a resident priest to serve the
spiritual needs of the Irish Catholic residents. This reflected a policy
towards Catholics that was similar to that then being promoted in Ireland and
England and, for similar reasons, given the recent military victory of the
Americans over the British with essential French help. London feared that
American or even French influence would increase in Newfoundland and perhaps
produce the same dreadful consequences as in her, soon to be former, American
colonies.21
Unlike
Ireland, lay Catholic leadership in Newfoundland, given the absence of any
Irish Catholic nobility or old landed class, was already limited to Catholic
merchant classes, especially those in St John’s. Despite this essential
difference, however, there were some important similarities between them. In
Newfoundland, as in Ireland, in order to protect the Catholic church and its
interests from becoming involved with any radical movements, church leadership
responded to social, political, and economic situations in ways which often
mirrored the policies being followed by their colleagues in Ireland. In
Newfoundland, where there was no old Catholic landed class, it was the Catholic
merchants of St John’s with whom church leadership began to identify. Their
Catholic opposition numbers in Newfoundland were not a rising middle class of
radical “democrats” as in Ireland, but instead the fishing family class or
working poor.
Though
the English remained the majority in Newfoundland throughout the period in
question, by the middle of the eighteenth century, due to famines and
depressions in Ireland, the Irish came to comprise the bulk of the fishing
family class. Class division in Newfoundland was greatly heightened in the late
eighteenth century with the transition of labour from a fishing servant class
to a fishing family class. The former had always been paid a fixed contractual
wage and returned home at the end of a season, while the latter became
resident, owned their own equipment, and sold their own fish and not their
labour.
Linked
to the first, the other major transition was the form of payment, which changed
from cash wages for the fishing servant class to a “truck” form of payment for
the fishing family class, that is a cashless barter of fish in exchange for
company stores that were owned by the merchants. A wage-based system had
usually been to the advantage of the fishing servants, since they were assured
a fixed income no matter the quantity or quality of their catch. The “truck”
form of payment, however, placed all of the economic power in the hands of the
merchants, since they did not even fix the prices they were prepared to pay for
a catch until mid-season when they were assured of its potential size and
quality. Then when the fishing family turned over their catch to the merchant
to pay off their account, if there were a surplus they were not paid in cash
but in “winter supply.” If their catch was not large enough to pay off their
account, they were then at the mercy of the merchant to “carry them on the
books” until the next season and thus they could only hope that the merchant
would advance their winter supplies “on credit.” Consequently, with no “real”
wages but only a barter system that kept them totally under the control of the
merchants, fishing families became entirely dependent upon the merchants who
were centered in St John’s. Though a minority among the merchant capitalists of
St John’s, a number of Catholic
merchants were members of this dominant group. Thus, fishing families were in
effect “classic” peasants, tied to “landlord” merchants who controlled their
very existence just as totally as traditional peasants had been bound in the
landlord-peasant relationship.22
The
Catholic merchants of St John’s who went to Ireland in 1783 were, presumably, looking for a church leader who would be prepared to “fit” into
the already well-established class structure in Newfoundland. In James Louis
O’Donel they found what they wanted. The Franciscan priest was not only a
native of Co. Waterford, where the overwhelming majority of the Newfoundland
Irish Catholics of all classes had their roots, but he was also the son of a
“well-to-do farmer.” Thus, if nothing else, his background would apparently
pre-dispose him to defend bourgeois mercantile interests in his new home. Rome
next obliged and appointed O’Donel the apostolic prefect, and in 1786 the vicar
apostolic of the island, both titles being steps below that of an ordinary.
When O’Donel arrived on the island on 4 July 1784, he noted with great pleasure
his very kind reception by the British governor. His remark was in a sense an
early indication of the future direction of his ministry in Newfoundland.23 From the beginning, O’Donel’s attachment to the Catholic as well as
Protestant merchant middle classes was uncompromising, and he appeared to
accept without reflection or concern the type of “peasant-landlord” economic
dependency of the fishing families upon the merchants, whether Catholic or
Protestant.
The
fishing families, however, did have their supporters among a handful of the
lower clergy. Being in a relatively unsettled state as a colony, for years
Newfoundland attracted a type of itinerant or vagabond clergy, canonically
termed vagi or “wanderers.” There were at least two such priests on the
island when O’Donel arrived, but they left mysteriously soon afterwards,
perhaps under pressure from O’Donel. Nevertheless, a Dominican priest, Patrick
Lonergan who arrived from France in 1785 and settled in Placentia, was not as
amenable to the desires of the new head of the local church. For Lonergan not
only remained, he was also soon siding with the fishing families and against
the merchants. Though O’Donel repeatedly excommunicated him, during his two
years on the island, Lonergan moved from Placentia to Renews, to St Mary’s, and
finally to Trinity Bay, gaining fishing family support as well as merchant
opposition in each location. That is until l787 when apparently under constant
pressure from O’Donel, he finally departed for Labrador. O’Donel described
Lonergan and his apparent social activism among the fishing families as a
“scandal.” As for the priest, O’Donel judged Lonergan as “the worst man I ever
heard of.” When in the autumn of 1787, O’Donel learned that the Dominican had
suddenly dropped dead “in a drunken fit” on Fogo Island, O’Donal was overjoyed
at the news.24
O’Donel’s
next opponent, and by far his most determined and difficult, was Patrick Power,
a fellow Franciscan. Power came to St John’s in 1787, armed with a letter of
introduction from his superior in Kilkenny and countersigned by Troy who was
then bishop of Ossory. Like Lonergan before him, Power soon began to side with
the fishing families and against what he considered was their unjust treatment
by the merchants. This fact is born out in an early complaint from O’Donel, in
which he accused Power of breeding “confusion among the common people,” by
which he meant the fishing families. Since Power appears to have been a far
more convincing speaker, O’Donel viewed Power as ”a more dangerous man than
Lonergan.”25
Power’s
conduct was obviously frowned upon by the British authorities, who opposed the
resulting social tensions and possible disorder that his opposition to the
merchants was encouraging. The local government was soon accusing Power’s
superior, O’Donel, since he seemed incapable of stopping Power, of helping to
foster such disorder and even implying that, as a possible solution, perhaps
all of the Catholic clergy should be expelled from the colony. When O’Donel
reassured the governor, Admiral Elliott, that he would do all in his power to
have Power removed and sent elsewhere, the government dropped its opposition.26
O’Donel’s
reassurances, however, were far easier to state than to put into practice, for
Power had gained considerable support among his fishing families in Ferryland,
which formed the center of his ministry. O’Donel tried to counter this by
sending to the region another priest, Thomas Ewer, also a Franciscan but from
Leinster. Factional fighting between Leinster and Munster men was frequent, and
given the competition for scarce resources in Ferryland, Ewer was soon sowing provincial
discord as well as deliberately siding with the merchants. While Troy withdrew
his support for Power upon O’Donel’s request, other Irish bishops, namely,
James Lanigan of Ossory and William Egan of Waterford sided with Power. In
effect, the two bishops contended that O’Donel himself was really a major part
of the problem in his unwillingness to give the slightest support to his fellow
Franciscan in the latter’s attempt to gain better living conditions for his
fishing family parishioners.27
From
the outset of his arrival, O’Donel had taken the side of the merchants against
the fishing families, and his support only grew with his opposition to Power’s
determination to champion the fishing families. By 1790 O’Donal had gained the
backing of the other three priests on the island, Phelan, Burke, and Ewer in
opposing Power, for all three were united in calling their fellow priest “an
enemy to the Catholic religion...as was Luther of old in Germany.” Such unity of
action against him seems to have broken Power’s resolve, and thus the priest
finally left Newfoundland in 1791.28
Of
course, O’Donel’s loyalty to the merchants and government in St John’s did have
its rewards, just as Troy’s support had gained for him and the Irish church the
essential and very generous government funding of Maynooth College. At the
height of his controversy with Power, for example, O’Donel’s annual income,
which was largely contributed by the Catholic merchants of St John’s, was over
£1,500, or five times that Archbishop Troy’s of Dublin. Soon after Power’s
departure, O’Donel was invited to dine with the governor and chief merchants of
St John’s. At the conclusion of the celebrations, O’Donel was presented with
their official thanks for the “unremitting pains” he had taken for eight years,
in O’Donel’s words: “in keeping the rabble of the place amenable to the laws.”29
When
the radical decade of the 1790s ended with the ‘98 Rebellion and Union in
Ireland, there was a modest uprising in St John’s in 1800. Like their namesakes
in Ireland there were certainly United Irishmen sympathisers among the fishing
families in the colony who also hoped to achieve a similar type of citizen’s
republic in Newfoundland. Like Troy, O’Donel viewed such notions as expressions
of “French deceit,” the aim of which was to produce social chaos in opposition
to the laws of England, which, O’Donal declared, were “to be preferred to those
of any country in Europe.”30 In response to his continued uncompromising
support, the British authorities and merchant classes in St John’s again
rewarded O’Donel’s loyalty by recommending that he be granted an annual
government pension. This was occasioned by his decision in 1804 to retire after
suffering a mild stroke earlier that year. Governor Gower, in writing to London
in support of the pension idea, noted that the government and merchants were
indeed indebted to O’Donel for his “constant preservation of peace and good
order,” especially “among the lower classes of society,” who were mostly
composed of Irish Catholics. In fact, in 1805 O’Donel did receive a generous
government pension of fifty pounds, which continued after he left the island in
1807.31
O’Donel’s
unwavering loyalty to the government and his pro-merchant position remained
strong to the end, and there is no evidence that he ever attempted to draw the
slightest attention to the financial plight of the Catholic fishing families.
Before he left Newfoundland in 1807, and largely through Troy’s influence,
O’Donel procured his own successor, Patrick Lambert, a fellow Franciscan, who
readily gave assurances that he would continue O’Donel’s social and political
policies. Not surprisingly, the grateful merchants of St John’s gave O’Donel a
very splendid parting gift, a silver urn worth the then enormous sum of 150
guineas, “in testimony of his pious, patriotic and meritorious conduct.”32
Since
Ireland had a much longer recorded history than Newfoundland and more developed
social and political systems, the middle-class leanings of the Catholic clergy
in the two islands during this period had marked dissimilarities. Yet, they
were alike in that in both places the Catholic hierarchy preferred to support
the often narrow interests of their church even when such attitudes clashed
with the majority of their laity, be it the interests of fishing families in
Newfoundland or, in Ireland the radical “democrats” or those of the more
moderate political reformers, such as O’Connell. As this study shows and church
history generally confirms, the church’s leaders have usually tended to defend
the status quo, with any opposition to it coming only after social conditions
have so changed as to make the former position untenable. Although there have
been some notable exceptions to the usual policy of defending the status quo,
such as a Von Ketteller, Charbonneau or Romero, they are few and far between.
In short, as the few exceptions, they prove the more general stance. Clearly,
this was the case with Troy when he refused to accept the radical changes in
leadership in the Catholic Committee either before the Union or even the far
less extreme ones adopted by O’Connell after it.
Change,
however, would come with his successor,
Daniel Murray (1823-1852). For Murray soon realised that the previous position
had become counterproductive, since it denied the church the advantage of
becoming the important vehicle that O’Connell envisioned for it in the drive
towards emancipation, possible repeal, and certainly as a new central symbol of
Irish nationalism and all the consequent growth in popularity that the church
would ultimately enjoy as a result.
As for
O’Donel, his strong middle-class leanings, evident in his unwavering and
uncritical support of the position of the merchants of St John’s, both Catholic
and Protestant, were well formed before he had arrived. Certainly O’Donel did
nothing to disturb the situation, even when it was clearly injurious to the
well being of the Irish Catholic fishing families in the colony or the vast
majority of his people. One of O’Donel’s later successors and a fellow
Franciscan, Michael Fleming (1830-1850), when faced, like Murray, with the
rising tide of liberalism, would chose to shift gears. In so doing, Fleming
would support Catholic interests now represented not only by the Catholic
merchants of St John’s, but also by the Catholic majority throughout
Newfoundland. Thus Fleming decided to break with the British government as well
as the Protestant merchant oligarchy that his predecessors, especially O’Donel,
had so staunchly defended.
Like Troy, O’Donel had chosen to support the status quo or old order in their shared desire to protect the interests of their church, although, while for very different reasons, this reflected the same underlying rationale that prompted the change in policy by their successors. Certainly Troy in his own far more enlightened leadership earlier in his career, that is before the radicalism of the 1790s, was a valuable bridge to this new era in Ireland. And while this cannot be said for O’Donel, whose views remained constant throughout his time in Newfoundland, his successors, like Troy and Murray, would also alter the course he had set when the defence of the status quo no longer served the interests of their church.33
1 Craig Brown, ed., The Illustrated History of
Canada (Toronto: Lester and Orpen Dennys Ltd., 1987), 125-7, 195-7.
2 R.F. Foster, Modern Ireland 1600-1972,
(London: Penguin Books, 1989), 21, 345-8; S.J. Connolly, Religion, Law and
Power: The Making of Protestant Ireland 1660-1760 (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1992), 145-8; L.M.Cullen and T.C. Smout, eds. Comparative Aspects of
Scottish and Irish Economic and Social History 1600-1900 (Edinburgh: John
Donald, 1977), 9.
3 Foster, Modern
Ireland, 173-4.
4 J.C. Beckett, The Making of
Modern Ireland 1603-1923 (London: Faber and Faber, 1971), 104-21.
5 W.E.H. Lecky, History of
Ireland in the Eighteenth Century (London: Longman’s, Green and Co., 1913), 5:489; Beckett, The Making of
Modern Ireland, 139-49; Foster, Modern Ireland, 138-63.
6 T.P. Power, ed., Endurance and
Emergence: Catholics in Ireland in the Eighteenth Century (Dublin: Irish
Academic Press, 1990), 80; Thomas Bartlett, The Fall and Rise of the Irish
Nation (Dublin: Gill & Macmillian, 1992), 124; W.E. Vaughan, Landlords
and Tenants in Mid-Victorian Ireland (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994),
221-2, 226.
7 Vincent J. McNally, Reform, Revolution and
Reaction: Archbishop John Thomas Troy and the Church in Ireland 1787-1817 (London:
University Press of America, 1995),
14-16.
8 Power, Endurance and Emergence,
80-3.
9 Bartlett, The Rise and Fall,
81, 103-04.
10 McNally, Reform, Revolution
and Reaction, 11.
11 Ibid., 9-15.
12 Ibid., 15.
13 R. Dudley Edwards, “The Minute Book of the
Catholic Committee 1773-1792.” .Archivium Hibernicum 9 (1942) 114;
Dublin Diocesan Archives (hereafter DDA), Troy Papers (hereafter TP), Troy to
the Respectable Members of the [Irish] Catholic Committee, Dublin 13 February
1790; Durham, Ushaw College Archives (hereafter DUCA), Troy to unidentified
clergyman, possibly Joseph Wilkes, a Benedictine priest and a leading member of
the English Catholic Committee, 10 March 1790; Bernard Ward, The Dawn of the
Catholic Revival in England 1781-1803. (London: Longmans, Green, 1909)
1:126 et seq., 294, 333-4; Rome, Propaganda Archives (hereafter APF) Lettere della Sacra Congregazione (hereafter
Lettere) vol. 258: fol. 622, Antonelli to Troy, Rome, 25 September 1790.
14 Patrick
Rogers, The Irish Volunteers and Catholic Emancipation 1778-1793
(London: Burns, Oates & Washbourne, 1934), 213-17; Lecky, Ireland in the
Eighteenth Century, 3:10; Francis Plowden, Historical Review of the
State of Ireland, (Philadelphia: McLaughlin & Graves, 1805-06),
3:1560-61; Edwards, “The Minute Book,” 139-40, 144.
15 “Address to ... Westmoreland,” 29
December 1791, Ross's Dublin Public Register of Freeman's Journal 30,
no. 62; DDA, Delany Letter Book (hereafter DLB), Caulfield to Troy, Ross, 18
November 1791.
16 Dublin Diocesan Archives [hereafter DDA], Troy
Letter Book, Troy to Moylan, Dublin, 23 December 1791; Ibid., Delany to Troy,
Tullow, 30 December 1791; Ibid., TP, Caulfield to Troy, Ross, 31 December 1791;
Ibid., Troy to Francis Plowden, Dublin, 10 January 1801; Ibid., Troy to Francis
Plowden, Dublin, 22 March 1804; William James McNeven, Pieces of Irish
History (New York: Bernard Dornin, 1807), 21.
17 Cashel Diocesan Archives
(hereafter CDA), Bray Papers (hereafter BP), 19 February 1793; Edmund Curtis
and R.B.McDowell, Irish Historical Documents, (London: Methuen, 1943),
200-01; CDA, BP, Teaghan to Bray, Killarney, 4 March 1793; Ibid., Troy to Bray,
Dublin, 16 March 1793; DDA, TP, Troy to Catholic Committee, Dublin 13 February
1790; RPA, Acta Sacra Congregationis (hereafter Acta) 164: 475-506v, General
Congregation, 16 June 1794; Ibid., Scritture referite nei Congressi-Anglia
(hereafter (Anglia) 5: 577, Troy to Antonelli, Dublin, 28, February 1795.
18 McNally, Reform, Revolution and Reaction,
58-162.
19 Bartlett, The Rise and Fall of the Irish
Nation, 252-9; Maurice R. O’Connell, The Correspondence of Daniel
O’Connell (Shannon & Dublin: Irish Manuscript Commission 1972-1980),
632, 634-5, 713, 762, and 1023.
20 S.J. Connolly, “Religion and Society,” Irish
Economic and Social History 10 (1983) 13; Oliver MacDonagh, “The
Politicization of the Irish Bishops 1800-1850,” The Historical Journal
18 (1975), 53; CDA, BP, McCarthy to Bray, 5 November 1808; Ibid.,
O’Shaughnessey to Bray, Newmarket-on-Furgus, 9 November 1808; Ibid., Power to
Bray, 4 November 1808; Ibid., Power to Bray, 15 December 1808; Maurice R.
O’Connell, The Correspondence of Daniel O’Connell (Shannon & Dublin:
Irish Manuscripts Commission 1972-1980) documents: 632, 634-5, 713, 762, and
1023. Vincent J. McNally, “Who is Leading? Archbishop John Thomas Troy and the
Priests and People in the Archdiocese of Dublin 1787-1823,” CCHA Historical
Studies, 61 (1995): 153-70.
21 Public Record Office, Kew, England (hereafter
PRO), Colonial Office (hereafter CO) 5/205, Instructions to Governor Edwards,
May 6, 1779.
22 Gerald M. Sider, Culture and Class in Anthropology
and History: A Newfoundland Illustration. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1986), 3-57.
23 Cyril J. Byrne, Catholicism’s
Formative Years in Newfoundland: Gentlemen-Bishops and Faction Fighters: The
Letters of Bishops O’Donel, Lambert, Scallan and Other Irish Missionaries
(St John’s: Jesperson Press, 1984), 33-40.
24 DDA, Troy’s papers [hereafter TP], O’Donel to
Troy, November 30, 1786, Ibid., O’Donel to Troy, November 10, 1787.
25 Ibid., Power to Troy, 29 October 1789; Ibid.
O’Donal to Troy, 10 November & 6 December 1787.
26 Ibid., O’Donal to Troy, 16 November 1788.
27 Ibid., O’Donal to Troy, 13 June 1790.
28 Ibid., O’Donel to Troy, 6
December 1790; Ibid., O’Donel to Troy, 8 December 1791.
29 Ibid., O’Donal to Troy, 6 December 1790; Ibid., O’Donal to Troy, 8 December
1791; Ibid., O’Donal to Troy, 8 December 1792.
30 St John’s Diocesan Archives, O’Donal Diocesan
Statutes, 1801.
31 PRO, CO, 194/44 Gower to Camden, 25 October 1804;
Ibid., O’Donel to Gower, 11 October 1805; Ibid., 195/16, Camden to Gower, 20
March 1805; Ibid., 194/44 Gower to Castlereagh, 28 November 1805.
32 M.F. Howley, Ecclesiastical
History of Newfoundland (Boston, 1888) 215-8.
33 Sean T. Cadigan, Hope and Deception in
Conception Bay: Merchant-Settler Relations in Newfoundland, 1785-1855
(Toronto: University of Toronto Press 1995), 142, and, above in this issue,
John Edward FitzGerald, “Michael Anthony Fleming and Ultramontanism in
Irish-Newfoundland Roman Catholicism, 1829-1850.”