Thirty years ago, at the time of the founding of Irish Historical Studies, there were available many books on the very much ‘ written ’ nineteenth century, but much of the work was biased and unscholarly, or lacked the freshness of question and approach which each genera¬tion must bring to the history it studies and writes. Good work there was, of course, and it is important that it be not forgotten. If there are errors in older books, equally grave ones can result from not reading earlier authors who often wrote from a closeness to the event, and with an awareness of factors easily forgotten in the ongoing sweep of interpretation.

To face a bibliographer's task of assembling the titles and appraising the content of scholarly books on twentieth-century Ireland is to think of a number of works which one would like to see and which do not yet exist. First among these, surely, would be a History of Ireland in the twentieth century which would be social and economic as well as political, analytical as well as chronological, and include the historical background from 1914 or 1921, or perhaps even from 1891, of both the Irish republic and Northern Ireland; it would take due account of the historical inheritance as well as of the new influences and forces which belong uniquely to the twentieth century and affect all states everywhere.

John Martin the Irishman was described by one of his shipmates as the unluckiest man in the English fleet. He himself, appearing in turn before the inquisition in Mexico, complained that he was ‘ the unluckiest mortal on board, as all he knew was how to sweep the ship, and everybody ill-treated him, and called him St Peter or St Patrick and a thousand other names ’. A little later, the inquisition scribe noted that Martin ‘ remained a while sighing and grief-stricken, and then said that he was surrounded by a thousand dangers in this trial which far from going in his favour appeared to be taking him on the road to the devil, and he wished to God he had not married in this country and brought trouble on others as well as on himself, because he saw that he was doomed to die ’. Again, on 1 February 1575, Martin told the inquisitors ‘ that he was tired of being admonished so many times and that he called God to witness that he wished he might be doomed body and soul if he had anything further to say, and although his tears might be of no avail here on earth they might still serve him with God ’. His gloomy prognostications were fully justified. At the second auto-da-fé in Mexico city, on 6 March 1575, Martin was garrotted and his body burnt: no other person was done to death on this occasion. Out of the hundred or so members of the English fleet captured by the Spaniards in 1568, only four were executed for heresy, and only two of these in New Spain. George Reaveley who died in the Mexican auto of 1574 has been termed ‘ one of the first martyrs of the protestant cause in America ’.

The historical importance of the Irish National Land League lies primarily in its contribution to the politicization of Irish agrarian society. During the years 1879-82 the Land League conducted a tenant right campaign embracing virtually every county in the south and west of Ireland, and an extensive portion of the midlands as well. In these areas it organized an impressive network of local branches, which drew large numbers of farmers into political activity. The movement was not, however, organized by farmers alone. The central direction of the agitation was assumed by a contingent of Irish nationalists, while local leadership was provided, in large measure, by a discontented segment of the town population. Townsmen were numerically well represented in the Land League, they played an instrumental role in initiating the agitation, and they continued, once league branches had become established, to help organize meetings and enforce the league’s authority in local land disputes. Hence, though the Land League was principally a farmers’ organization, and though, in the end, it served to politicize Irish farmers, it was the the product of an alliance between two distinguishable social groups.

Antrim was a ‘potwalloping’ borough. It had therefore no corporation nor any corporate function. By the terms of its charter of 1665 it existed simply to return two members to parliament, and this it continued to do till it was disfranchised by the act of the union in 1800. Its only borough official was the seneschal of the manor of Moylinny, who was appointed by the lord of that manor and acted as returning officer at borough of Antrim elections. The borough comprised, roughly speaking, the town and sixteen surrounding townlands of Antrim, known popularly as ‘Antrim and the sixteen towns’. The lord of its soil was the earl of Massereene, who, by a curious freak, was not lord of the manor of Moylinny. This lordship belonged to the earl of Donegall, to whom Lord Massereene also paid a chief rent for the Antrim estate. But because the interests of the two families had always been closely intertwined and had been drawn still closer together by marriage alliance in 1713, Lord Massereene had no difficulty in getting his nominee appointed seneschal of the manor, and in the period 1750–1800 the seneschal was invariably the receiver of the rents on his Antrim estate. The franchise in Antrim was vested by the charter in the inhabitants of the borough. It was limited by the election act of 1727 to the protestant inhabitants only, and further limited by the election act of 1795 to £5 householders, whether protestant or catholic. This was a drastic limitation, since up to then there had been no property qualification in the potwalloper type of franchise. The result in Antrim was an enormous fall in the number of voters. The second earl of Massereene estimated that the electorate prior to 1795 consisted of between 200 and 300 people, and of somewhere around 30 after that date. In 1801 there were 36 registered electors. Such was the constitution of Antrim borough. Although on the face of it simple enough, it was yet sufficiently complex to provide no less than five different parties with a claim to compensation for its disfranchisement in 1800.

In 1825 there was published in Liverpool a pamphlet of 59 pages entitled The present state of Ireland, with a plan for improving the position of the people. Its author was James Cropper, a quaker merchant of that city and senior partner of the firm Cropper, Benson and Co. As a young man he had been apprenticed to the firm of Rathbone, Benson and Co., living and working in the small circle of liberal radicals in the city, of whom the Rathbones, the Binns and the Roscoes were perhaps the most famous. In 1799 he had set up business on his own account, and later joined in partnership with another quaker, Thomas Benson, son of Rathbone's partner, as Cropper, Benson and Co. The firm engaged in a wide variety of commission trading, but increasingly specialized in cotton imports from the United States of America, acting also as the Liverpool agent for the Black Ball line of packets which from 1818 provided the first regular passenger sailings between New York and Liverpool. As an ‘ American ’ merchant in Liverpool, Cropper helped to form the American chamber of commerce in the port, serving as treasurer and later as president. Besides his trading activities Cropper was a founder-director of the Liverpool-Manchester Railyway and he also invested heavily in the New York State canal system.

In any account of the liberal party’s dealings with Ireland, Gladstone must occupy a dominant and dynamic position. Yet perhaps his most significant legacy was a negative one. His dramatic and, from the party point of view, destructive failures with home rule in 1886 and 1893 demonstrated to two generations of liberal leaders, Morley and Lloyd George no less than Rosebery and Crewe, and even to his own son Herbert, that so long as the house of lords retained a legislative veto, home rule for Ireland could not be a practical part of the liberal programme. A recent article has shown that ‘ disengagement ‘ from home rule was evolved during the period from 1894 to 1905 as a matter of deliberate policy, and was not simply the result of a huge independent majority won by the party in 1906. It was a policy dictated by necessity, but it evolved, nonetheless, only gradually, through a series of compromises between two warring factions of the party. Where Rosebery and the extreme liberal imperialists worked to exclude home rule from the party programme altogether in 1900-1, Gladstonians wanted only to put it into cold storage. Again, when liberal imperialists and even uncommitted liberals called for a self-denying ordinance on home rule for the 1906 election, Gladstonians wanted the party simply to steer clear of any firm commitment. What averted a split on the earlier occasion was Asquith’s enunciation of a ‘ step by step ‘ principle on home rule in such a way as to differentiate it clearly from Rosebery’s ‘ clean slate’, while in the autumn of 1905 party unity was restored by Campbell-Bannerman’s promise to translate this principle into a legislative proposal.

The first act of the Irish parliamentary session of 1697 provided for the banishment of all catholic clergy exercising ecclesiastical jurisdiction and also of all regular clergy. It was the first act since the treaty of Limerick that directly affected the practice of the catholic religion in Ireland, and it was something of a paradox that it should have coincided with the making of peace between William III and Louis XIV. In its early stages the bill seems to have been confined to the regular clergy, and there is some obscurity about its extension to bishops and other clerical dignitaries.

The barony of Iveragh in County Kerry forms the extreme western part of the peninsula that runs out from Killarney. It is mountainous and weather-beaten tourist country, facing the Atlantic and separated from the rest of Ireland by a range of mountains. The O’Connells had been the principal family in the barony for some centuries before Daniel O’Connell was born in 1775. Several branches of his family along with other Gaelic families—McCarthys, O’Mahonys, O’Sullivans and Sugrues—had survived the turmoil and confiscations of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and the penal laws of the eighteenth. By the time of O’Connell’s birth these families were small landlords—frequently middlemen—whose distinction owed more to lineage and ‘following’ than to landed wealth. The one substantial landlord among them was Maurice O’Connell of Derrynane, usually known as Hunting-Cap, the head of the senior branch of the O’Connells. As a smuggler, farmer and landlord, by lending money to landlords and by thrift, he had greatly increased his inherited property so that by the beginning of the nineteenth century he could be described as a rich man. A childless widower, he adopted his nephew Daniel as his heir.

It was in 1872 that English agricultural labourers formed their first nationally organised trade union, and with this development came immediate pressure to secure improved wages and reduced hours of employment, wherever possible. In such circumstances unionists were clearly anxious to create a general scarcity of labour, in order to strengthen their bargaining position, and they particularly frowned upon the itinerant Irish workers who came to swell the agricultural market during the hay and corn harvests. Although, from the farmers' point of view, extra labour was clearly needed at these busy seasons of the year, the farm workers themselves were keen to eliminate—or at least to regulate—this type of competition.

In practice the Irish harvest migration had probably already reached its peak by the end of the 1840s and had then fallen off fairly rapidly, in the face of the massive emigration movement of the early 1850s.

‘ . . . I am as fast bound to Ireland as Ulysses was to his mast’: so Gladstone wrote near the close of his long career to the marquess of Ripon, one of the few liberal peers of high rank and great wealth who remained faithful to him when the party split over home rule in 1886. The remark, and the type of politician to whom it was addressed, are both significant. [Gladstone’s obsession, as many writers have termed it, with the Irish question came increasingly to dominate his political life during its latter, and much more important, half. The statement is often made that this ‘obsession’ held up the reform of British institutions for a generation or more, and in particular the social reforms of which an industrial and urban nation by then stood in grave need. This paper seeks to question the validity of that historical commonplace, for the following reasons.

When, in the 1850s, the second duke of Buckingham was editing the correspondence of his grandfather, the second Earl Temple and first marquis of Buckingham, he was clearly puzzled by what was revealed by that part of it which related to Temple’s vice-royalty in Ireland and the issue of ‘ renunciation ’ He wrote of the ‘ curious struggle ’ in the cabinet, ‘ the immense disproportion between cause and effect ’ and the ‘ clamour and misunderstanding ’ which he confessed it was ‘ difficult to understand ’, Today there is still some confusion about renunciation as an issue in English politics and it is the primary object of this article to dispel it. That it has secondary objects is solely the result of the discoveries, suggestions and conclusions of the many historians who have contributed to our understanding of Anglo-Irish relations in the later eighteenth century. It is now clear, for example, that Ireland was one of the most complex theatres in Britain’s external affairs in that period. To some extent this was due to the close geographical and mental proximity between the two countries which enabled politicians to travel and correspond easily from one to the other, a circumstance which led to policies being in a continuous state of formulation and, equally, under continuous scrutiny—in contrast to Britain’s foreign and colonial relations where language and more considerable geographical problems gave policy makers more time to deliberate, and incidentally, reduced the number of interested parties around Whitehall. Similarly there was a contrast between the quality and effectiveness of the official procedures that were adopted for the arrangement of Anglo-Irish relations and those which were followed in other spheres of Britain’s external affairs. Viceroys enjoyed a higher status than ambassadors and sometimes imagined they possessed an almost complete control over their domain. As a consequence they were often not subjected to detailed written instructions as was Earl Fitzwilliam in 1795, and in some cases managed to construct policies without the knowledge or concurrence of the official spokesman for Irish affairs in the cabinet (the home secretary), as did the marquis of Buckingham during the regency crisis in 178g.

In 1939, in his book Ulster and the British empire, Henry Harrison described partition as ‘a word of evil omen. . . It implies something resembling the surgical division of a living organism—a lopping off of limbs’. A writer on the partition of Ireland, Dr Denis Gwynn, condemned it as ‘so illogical, and so harmful in its results, that it cannot continue indefinitely’, and hinted that the imperial parliament ‘which devised and imposed the present partition’ should use ‘its influence and its authority to promote agreement’. This paper, however, makes no attempt to judge the morality of what was done in 1920, nor does it suggest a means of its undoing. It examines the attitude of British conservatives to what was known as the ‘Ulster question’ at three critical phases between 1912 and 1921, with special reference to the period after 1916, it deals with Anglo-Irish relations only as they affect this theme; and it attempts to show that, as far as British conservative opinion was concerned, the fate of Ulster, or of any part of Ulster, was always secondary to what were regarded as the interests of England and of the British empire.

O’Connell’s conflict with the trade unions in 1837–8 is well-known, but the reasons behind it, stretching back over seven years, are not. Though Connolly and Ryan mention the O’Connell-artisan relationship, the artisan-O’Connell nexus has not been considered previously. It is more than a mere verbal inversion, for if he had his attitudes to them they too had their say about him. Until the publication of ‘Irish trade unions and politics, 1830–50’ by Rachel O’Higgins, the activities of the Irish artisans in politics was something of a dark spot. Now that it has been lightened the time may be opportune to record and examine the unquiet liaison between the artisans of Dublin and O’Connell.

The Easter rising inaugurated a period of violence in Irish history, but its immediate consequence was to spark off a political rather than a military upheaval. The most important development in the next few years was the emergence of a united and organized separatist party which was capable of winning and holding the loyalties of most Irishmen; between 1916 and 1919 the achievements of the Sinn Fein party outweighed in importance those of the Irish Volunteers. This article will examine how the different Sinn Fein elements combined to form a single party, and how they overcame problems which nearly undermined its unity.

For some time before the Volunteers resorted to their protest in arms the nationalist party of John Redmond had been in a state of crisis, and its roots had begun to wither even though few traces of decay were yet visible above ground. Its supporters were dismayed by Carson's successful defiance of the Asquith government and by the postponement of home rule until after the end of the war. The party's extremist rivals were growing in strength and influence, encouraged by Griffith's propaganda and by the formation of the Volunteers. The nationalists had become vulnerable to an onslaught from outside their ranks or to erosion from within. Yet until after the turning-point of May 1916 Redmond still retained the grudging and unenthusiastic support of the great majority of the population.

The recent rediscovery of Herbert Gladstone’s rather fragmentary journal for 1880-85 has made it possible to throw more light on the Irish situation as seen through liberal eyes in the period leading up to the ‘ Kilmainham treaty ’. We wish to thank Sir William Gladstone, Bt, firstly for locating the journal at Hawarden Castle, Flintshire, and secondly for his good offices in making available for publication the section relating to Irish affairs in 1881-2. The irregularly kept volume extends to about 250 quarto pages, but apart from the entries made in 1881-2 it contains little material of more than marginal significance.

The following list includes books and articles on Irish history in which the year 1969 is given in the work itself as the date of publication, together with Addenda for 1965–8. The list excludes current works of reference, parliamentary publications, writings on contemporary politics, and items in newspapers; reports of archaeological finds and literary and linguistic studies, presented without reference to their historical context; and writings of little scholarly value. Reviews or short notices of many of the items listed will be found in this journal.

On 4 September 1607 the two Ulster earls, Tyrone and Tyrconnell, and the lord of Fermanagh, Cuconnaught Maguire, accompanied by their respective kinsmen, embarked from Lough Swilly for continental Europe. They never again returned to the lands they had striven so hard to hold. Their departure was a tragedy for Gaelic Ireland; their former dependants were left leaderless and unprotected, and what remained of the Gaelic way of life was soon undermined by the plantation in Ulster. The ‘ flight of the earls ’ is one of the black pages of Irish history and the event marks the end of an age.

What occasioned this sudden and mysterious departure? Of the many answers suggested almost all have been coloured by prejudice and the picture, consequently, remains clouded. Professional historians, with few exceptions, have shied away from the subject, and have contented themselves with qualified versions of the explanations offered by such writers as Fr Meehan, T. M. Healy, and Seán O'Faoláin. An essay in revision is certainly long overdue.

The following list includes books and articles on Irish history in which the year 1970 is given in the work itself as the date of publication, together with Addenda for 1965-9. The list excludes current works of reference, parliamentary publications, writings on contemporary politics, and items in newspapers; reports of archaeological finds and literary and linguistic studies, presented without reference to their historical context; and writings of little scholarly value. Reviews or short notices of many of the items listed will be found in this journal.

The following list gives particulars of theses on Irish historical subjects, or on subjects having a distinct bearing on Irish history, which were successfully completed during 1969, or were in progress in January 1970, in the history departments of the universities of Ireland. The information has been supplied directly by the responsible supervisors or by the heads of departments.

The list is arranged in periods. Within each period subjects are placed in chronological order, those that extend over more than one period being entered under the first period to which they relate and cross-referenced under the second or later periods.