Читать книгу Ireland under the Tudors - Bagwell Richard - Страница 7

Table of Contents

Scope of the work.

The main object of this book is to describe in some detail, and as impartially as possible, the dealings of England with Ireland during the reigns of Henry VIII. and his three children. As an introduction to the study of that period, it seemed desirable to give some account of the course of government during those 340 years which had elapsed since the first Anglo-Norman set foot upon the Irish shore. And, seeing that Teutonic invaders had effected a lodgment about three centuries and a half before Henry II.’s accession, it was hardly possible to avoid saying something about the men who built the towns which enabled his subjects to keep a firm grip upon the island. Lastly, it seemed well at the very outset to touch lightly upon the peculiarities of that Celtic system with which the King of England found himself suddenly confronted.

The Roman period.

Agricola took military possession of south-western Scotland partly in the hope of being able to invade Ireland. He had heard that the climate and people did not differ much from those of Britain, and he knew that the harbours were much frequented by merchants. He believed that annexation would tend to consolidate the Roman power in Britain, Gaul, and Spain, and kept by him for some time a petty Irish king who had been expelled by his own tribe, and to whom he professed friendship on the chance of turning him to account. Agricola thought there would be no great difficulty in conquering the island, which he rightly conjectured to be smaller than Britain and larger than Sicily or Sardinia.

‘I have often,’ says Tacitus, ‘heard him say that Ireland could be conquered and occupied with a single legion and a few auxiliaries, and that the work in Britain would be easier if the Roman arms could be made visible on all sides, and liberty, as it were, removed out of sight.’ Agricola, like many great men after him, might have found the task harder than his barbarous guest had led him to suppose; and in any case fate had not ordained that Ireland should ever know the Roman Peace. It was reserved for another petty king, after the lapse of nearly 1,100 years, to introduce an organised foreign power into Ireland, and to attach the island to an empire whose possessions were destined to be far greater than those of Imperial Rome.

The Celtic polity.

Setting aside all ethnological speculations as foreign to the scope of this work, it may be sufficient to say that the inhabitants of Ireland at the dawn of authentic history were Celts, of the same grand division as the bulk of the Scots Highlanders, but differing considerably from the people of Wales. Their organisation in the twelfth century had not passed beyond the tribal stage.1

The Irish Monarchy or Pentarchy.

There was a monarch of all Ireland, who had Meath—the Middle—as his official appanage, and who reigned originally at Tara. There were provincial kings of Ulster, Munster, Leinster, and Connaught. A primacy was given to the race of Niall, who lived presumably in the fourth and fifth centuries, and from whom the O’Neills, O’Donnells, and others trace their descent. The theory is thought to have been pretty closely adhered to until the desertion of Tara in the sixth century of our era. After that the over-king lived in his own territory; but his authority was often disputed, especially by Munster, the revolt of which province finally broke up the old order.2

Weakness of the Brehon law.

Wars were frequent, and Irish Brehons, who were rather legal experts than judges, exerted themselves to define rights and liabilities, and to establish a peaceful polity. Perhaps in laying down the law they sometimes rather stated their own conception of what it ought to be than described the actual state of things; much as Brahminical writers propounded a theory of caste which cannot be reconciled with historical truth. Neither the Church nor the Law had always original power sufficient to enforce steady obedience. The Law might be clear enough, but the central government was often too weak to secure respect for the opinion of experts. Portia might have argued like a very Daniel, but she could have done nothing without the Duke behind her. In the absence of such an overpowering authority, the decisions of the Brehons were little more than arbitrations which might be, and probably often were, accepted as final, but on which neither party could be compelled to act.3

Ireland was outside the imperial system.

In the treatise called the ‘Senchus Mór’ there is a passage which may be as old as the fourteenth century, in which it is allowed that the nature of Irish royalty varied considerably from time to time. ‘The King of Erin without opposition,’ says the writer or interpolator, ‘received stock from the King of the Romans; or it was by the successor of Patrick the stock is given to the King of Erin, that is, when the seaports of Dublin, and Waterford, and Limerick, and the seaports in general, are subject to him.’ There is here an attempt at once to bring Ireland within the pale of the Empire, and to show that the Irish Church was independent. It was natural that the Brehons should seek to introduce their country into the circle of nations, but we know as a matter of fact that the Empire never had anything to do with Ireland. The passage quoted may have been inspired by a wish to deny English supremacy by attorning, as it were, to the superior lord. It is a tribute to the greatness of the Empire more than anything else, and it was not thought of until the Brehon law schools had fallen from their high estate.

The tribal system. The chief.

It was by giving stock that an Irish chief showed his power and added to his wealth. There were lands attached to his office, but his capital consisted of kine, and he extracted a sort of rent by obliging his inferiors to give them pasture. The number of cattle which he ‘grazed without loss’ upon other people’s ground was the measure of his power and popularity. There were free tribesmen the amount of whose obligation to their chief was strictly laid down, though a greater quantity of stock might be voluntarily taken under certain restrictions. But there were also servile or semi-servile classes whose comparatively unprotected condition placed them more or less in the power of the chief to whose sept they were attached. An ambitious chief would always have opportunities of aggrandisement, and his wealth enabled him to support a mercenary force, and to grow strong at the expense of his own and other tribes. Broken men who had lost their own tribal position would always flock to an ambitious chief, and the disturbing influence of such retainers was often too strong for Brehons or priests. But the growth of power by means of mercenaries was not peculiar to Ireland, and was perhaps less frequent than is commonly supposed.4

Frequency of war.

Whatever the advantages of a pure Celtic system, it did not secure general peace. There is no period of which Celtic Ireland may be more justly proud than that between the death of St. Columba in 597 and the death of St. Gall about 640. It was the age in which the Irish saint Columbanus bearded Thierri and Brunehaut, in which Ireland herself was a noted seat of learning, and in which the monasteries of Luxueil, of St. Gall, and of Bobbio were founded by Irishmen. Yet, under thirty years out of forty-four either battle or murder is recorded in the Chronicon Scotorum. In some years there were several battles and several murders.

In 628 Leinster was devastated. Quarrels between near relations were frequent, and often ended in murder. When we consider that the deaths of important people only are recorded, we cannot pronounce the Ireland which sent forth Aidan, and Adamnan, and Columbanus to have been at all a peaceful country. Christianity was then established, and no Scandinavian irruption had yet hindered the development of purely native ideas. But Irish chroniclers, perhaps owing to their genealogical turn, give a disproportionate space to deaths; and it may be admitted that the number of homicides was not greater in Ireland than in some parts of Germany in feudal times.5

Celtic law of succession.

Primogeniture, which is practically incompatible with the tribal stage of political organisation, was perhaps formally acknowledged at a very remote period, but was unknown as a rule of succession to Irish chiefries in the ages with which this book chiefly deals. In those comparatively modern times a vacancy was filled from the same family, but the person chosen was generally a brother or a cousin of the deceased. It seldom happened, perhaps, that an Irish chief, who was necessarily a warrior, attained threescore and ten years, and on an average a son would be less likely to make an able leader than one of an older generation. To avoid disputed successions, an heir-apparent, called the tanist, was chosen before a vacancy actually occurred, and sometimes probably against the wish of the reigning chief. Very often the sons refused to accept the tanist, and bloody quarrels followed. This system stank in the nostrils of the Tudor lawyers; but in the twelfth century the true principle of hereditary succession was not fully understood. It was, perhaps, a suspicion that his eldest son might not succeed him quietly that induced Henry II. to crown him in his lifetime. A later and much stronger analogy may be found in the history of the Empire. Charles V. procured the election of his brother Ferdinand as king of the Romans, and he was actually crowned. Many years later Charles wished to substitute his son Philip; but Ferdinand refused to yield, and he was sustained by the electors, who had no mind to see the Empire become an appendage of the Spanish monarchy. The influence of the Irish Brehons probably tended to prevent chiefries from becoming hereditary. In such cases as the earldom of Desmond we have a mixture of the two systems; the earls were chiefs as regarded the Irish; but their succession to the honour, and through it to the quasi-chiefry, was regulated by feudal rules.

Tudor view of the Celtic land law.

As the chief was elected by his tribe from among a limited number, so was the land distributed among the tribesmen within certain fixed limits. As it is with England’s treatment of Ireland that we have to do, it may be as well to let Sir John Davies himself say how the matter appeared to the Tudor lawyers:—

Septs.

‘First be it known that the lands possessed by the mere Irish in this realm were divided into several territories or countries; and the inhabitants of each Irish country were divided into several septs or lineages.’

Lord and tanist.

‘Secondly, in every Irish territory there was a lord or chieftain, and a tanist who was his successor apparent. And of every Irish sept or lineage there was also a chief, who was called Canfinny, or head of a “cognatio.”’

Tanistry and gavelkind.

‘Thirdly, all possessions in these Irish territories (before the common law of England was established through all the realm as it now is) ran at all times6 in course of tanistry, or in course of gavelkind. Every lordship or chiefry, with the portion of land that passed with it, went without partition to the tanist, who always came in by election, or by the strong hand, and never by descent.7 But all the inferior tenancies were partible among the males in gavelkind.’8

No estate of inheritance.

‘Again, the estate which the lord had in the chiefry, or that the inferior tenants had in gavelkind, was no estate of inheritance, but a temporary or transitory possession. For just as the next heir of the lord or chieftain would not inherit the chiefry, but the eldest and worthiest of the sept (as was before shown in the case of tanistry), who was often removed and expelled by another who was more active or stronger than he: so lands in the nature of gavelkind were not partible among the next heirs male of him who died seised, but among all the males of his sept, in this manner:—

Partitions of tribal land.

‘The Canfinny, or chief of a sept (who was commonly the most ancient of the sept) made all the partitions at his discretion. This Canfinny, after the death of each tenant holding a competent portion of land, assembled all the sept, placed all their possessions in hotchpotch, and made a new partition of the whole; in which partition he did not assign to the sons of the deceased the portion which their father held, but allotted the better or larger part to each one of the sept according to his antiquity.’9

Effect of frequent partitions.

‘These portions being thus allotted and assigned were possessed and enjoyed accordingly until the next partition, which, at the discretion or will of the Canfinny, might be made at the death of each inferior tenant. And thus by these frequent partitions and the removals or translations of the tenants of one portion or another, all the possessions were uncertain, and the uncertainty of possession was the very cause that no civil habitations were erected, and no enclosure or improvement of lands made, in the Irish countries where that custom of gavelkind was in use; especially in Ulster, which seemed everywhere a wilderness before this new plantation made there by the English undertakers. And this was the fruit of this Irish gavelkind.’

Position of daughters and of bastard sons.

‘Also by this Irish custom of gavelkind bastards took their shares with the legitimate, and wives, on the other hand, were quite excluded from dower, and daughters took nothing, even if their father died without issue male. So that this custom differed from Kentish gavelkind in four points.’10

Four points peculiar to Irish gavelkind.

The four points were the certainty of estate in each share, the exclusion of bastards, the admission of a widow to one moiety, and the admission of females in default of issue male. For which reasons, says Sir John, the Kentish custom was always held good and lawful by the law of England. He admits, however, that the Irish custom had a counterpart in North Wales, which had been totally abolished by Henry VIII., along with other usages resembling those of Ireland. Edward I. had only ventured to exclude bastards, and to give widows their dowry.11

Sir John Davies did not exhaust the subject.

Notwithstanding the above decision, it is probable that a description of tanistry and gavelkind does not exhaust the subject. The theoretical division among all the males of a sept is not at all likely to have been carried out, except in very early times. Human nature was against it. From the twelfth century the example of the Anglo-Normans, which cannot have been altogether without weight, was against it. The interest of the chief was everywhere against it, because it would deprive him of the means of rewarding his friends, and because he was always tempted to seize lands to his own use. The tendency to private property would be always asserting itself, but the exact historical truth can never be known. Before the close of the mediæval period, a great part of Ireland had been reconquered by the tribes from Anglo-Norman hands. Is it possible that the Irish land system can have been anywhere restored in its integrity? On the whole, it is at least probable that English statesmen in the sixteenth century made as many mistakes about tenures in Ireland as their representatives in the eighteenth and part of the nineteenth made about tenures in India. Good faith may be generally granted in both cases, but the blunders made were no less disastrous. It is at all events clear that primogeniture was no Celtic usage, that it is no part of the law of nature, and that the Tudor lawyers treated it as an end in itself, and almost as a necessary element in the eternal fitness of things. In the twelfth century Irish practice may have come much nearer to theory than in the sixteenth; at all events, Henry II.’s grants to individuals were absolutely opposed to Celtic notions of justice.

Composition for murder.

Celtic usages part of the common Aryan stock.

The conflict of laws is the key to Anglo-Irish history.

The Irish admitted composition for murder. This blood-fine, called an eric, was an utter abomination to the English of the sixteenth century, who had quite forgotten the laws and customs of their own Teutonic ancestors. To men long used to a strong central government such a custom seemed impious. It was nevertheless part of the common heritage of the Aryan race, and had been in vogue among the peoples from whom the later English sprung. The Njal Saga illustrates its use among the Icelanders by many famous cases strictly in point. The feudal system and the canon law had caused the Teutonic nations to abandon a usage which they once had in common with the Irish. Celtic Ireland had never had a very strong central government, and such as it was it had sustained serious damage. Homicide was still considered a personal injury. The rule was not a life for a life, but adequate damages for the loss sustained. The idea of public justice, irrespective of private interests, was far in advance of the stage which had been reached by the Irish Celts. Irish history cannot be understood unless the fact is clearly grasped, that the development of the tribal system was violently interrupted by a feudal half-conquest. The Angevin and Plantagenet kings were strong enough to shake and discredit the native polity; but they had neither the power nor the inclination to feudalise a people which had never gone through the preliminary stages. When the Tudors brought a more steadfast purpose and better machinery to the task, they found how hard it was to evolve order out of the shattered remnants of two systems which had the same origin, but which had been so brought together as to make complete fusion impossible. From the first the subjects of England and the natives of Ireland had been on entirely different planes. Even for us it is extremely difficult to avoid confusion by applying modern terms to ancient things. The Tudor lawyers and statesmen could hardly even attempt to look at jarring systems from the outside. They saw that the common law was more advanced than that of the Brehons, but they could not see that they were really the same thing at different stages. In fact, plain Englishmen in the sixteenth century could not do what only the most enlightened Anglo-Indians can do in the nineteenth. They were more civilised than the Irish, but they were not educated enough to recognise the common ancestor. That there was a common ancestor, and that neither party could recognise him, is the key to Anglo-Irish history both before and after the Tudor times.

Origin of the Irish Church. Patrick and Columba.

Exile of Columba.

Saint Bridget.

The early history of the native Irish Church is shrouded in much obscurity. The best authorities are disposed to accept St. Patrick as the apostle of Ireland, the fifth century as the period of his labours, and Armagh as his chief seat. He was not a native of Ireland; so much seems certain. A more interesting, because a more clearly defined figure, is that of Columba or Columkille, who was born in Donegal in 521. The churches of Derry, Durrow, Kells, Swords, Raphoe, Tory Island, and Drumcliff, claim him as their founder; but it is as the apostle of North Britain that he is best known. He was religious from his youth, but a peculiarly serious tinge was given to his mind by a feeling of remorse for bloodshed which he had partly caused. He had surreptitiously transcribed a psalter belonging to another saint, who complained of this primitive infringement of copyright. A royal decision that ‘to every cow belongs her calf’ was given, and was followed by an appeal to arms. Exile was then imposed as a penance on Columba, whose act had been the original cause of offence. Such was long the received legend, but perhaps the exile was voluntary.12 Whether his departure was a penance or the result of a vow, tradition says that he was bound never to see Ireland again, that he landed first on Oronsay, but found that Erin was visible from thence, and refused to rest until he had reached Iona. His supposed feelings are recorded in a very ancient poem:—

‘My vision o’er the brine I stretch

From the ample oaken planks;

Large is the tear of my soft grey eye

When I look back upon Erin.

Upon Erin my attention is fixed.’

Columba was the Paul of Celtic Christianity. By him and his disciples a great part of Scotland was evangelised, and it was to him that the British Church looked as a founder when the time came to decide between the relative pretensions of the Celtic and the Norman type of religion. St. Bridget or Bride, who died four years after Columba’s birth, is scarcely less celebrated. She was born near Dundalk, and her chief seat was at Kildare. She was the mother of Irish female monachism, and in popular estimation is not less famous than Patrick, and perhaps more so than Columba.13

The Irish Church was originally monastic.

Irish Christianity was at first monastic. A saint obtained a grant of land from a chief. A church was built, and a settlement sprung up round it. The family, as it was called, consisted partly of monks and partly of dependents, and the abbot ruled over all as chief of a pseudo-tribe. Like a lay chiefry the abbacy was elective, and the abbots wielded considerable power. These ecclesiastical clans even made war with each other. Thus, it is recorded that in 763 the family of St. Ciaran of Clonmacnoise fought with the family of St. Columba of Durrow, and that 200 of the Columbides fell. The head of such a confraternity was called coarb, or successor of the founder, and Irish writers sometimes called the Pope ‘coarb of Peter.’ In course of time the coarb of Patrick crystallised into the Archbishop of Armagh, and the coarb of Columba into the Bishop of Derry. Other saints were revered as the founders of other sees. Very often at least the abbot was chosen from among the founder’s kin.

The early Church was episcopal, but not territorially so.

Episcopal orders were acknowledged from the first, but it was long before the notion of a territorial bishop prevailed. In early days there were many bishops, wanderers sometimes, and at other times retained by the abbot as a necessary appendage to his monastery. The bishop was treated with great respect, but was manifestly inferior to the head of a religious house. St. Patrick was said to have consecrated 350 bishops, founded 700 churches, and ordained 5,000 priests; a mere legend, but perhaps tending to show that the episcopal order was very numerous in Ireland. Travelling bishops without definite duties, and with orders of doubtful validity, became a scandal to more regularly organised churches, and drew down a rebuke from Anselm as late as the beginning of the twelfth century. At an earlier period impostors pretending to be Irish bishops were not uncommon.14

Ireland gradually conformed to Roman usage.

The Irish Church long continued to keep Easter on a different day from that sanctioned by Rome, and to use a different form of tonsure. But the inconvenience of such dissidence from the general body of Western Christendom was soon felt. About 630 Pope Honorius I. addressed a letter to the Irish Church, in which he reminded the clergy that they were a scanty company inhabiting a remote region, and that it could not be for their interest to remain isolated. Cummian, afterwards seventh abbot of Iona, warmly espoused the papal cause. ‘Rome errs,’ he said with great scorn, ‘Jerusalem errs, Alexandria errs, Antioch errs, the whole world errs—the Britons and Irish are the only right-minded people.’ The southern Irish followed Cummian, but the northern rejected his advice, and some even called him a heretic; yet this did not prevent his being elected to fill Columba’s chair. Adamnan, ninth abbot of Iona, and biographer of the great founder, was no less earnest on the Roman side than Cummian had been. At the Synod of Whitby in 664 Wilfred discomfited Colman of Lindisfarne, and settled the question so far as England was concerned. Adamnan lived till 704, and succeeded in converting nearly all the Irish churches, except those subject to his own monastery.

Close of the Paschal controversy, 716.

In 716, under Duncadh, the eleventh abbot, Iona conformed, and the Paschal controversy came to an end, after lasting 150 years. The coronal tonsure was adopted three years later. The supremacy of Rome was thus acknowledged, but circumstances long prevented the Irish from adopting the Roman plan of Church organisation.

Influence of the Scandinavian invasions on the Church.

The Eugenian Constitution, 1151.

The Scandinavian inroads began towards the close of the century which witnessed the submission of Iona. It is probable that the influx of pagan Northmen kept Ireland apart from the rest of Christendom. The ninth century produced Erigena and other eminent Irishmen, but a country in which Christianity was fighting for bare life was not a promising field for Church reformers or systematisers. It was not until Clontarf had finally decided the cause in favour of Christianity that Ireland had again leisure to think of ecclesiastical polity. Gillebert of Limerick, an Ostman, was the first papal legate, and as such presided at the synod of Rathbreasil in or about 1118, where the first serious attempt was made to divide all Ireland into dioceses. The great influence of Malachi of Armagh was exerted in the same direction. He was the friend of Bernard of Clairvaux, and he introduced the Cistercian order into Ireland. Pope Eugenius III., himself a Cistercian, finished the work, and in 1151 Ireland accepted four archiepiscopal palls from Rome. From that date the Irish Church must be held to have fully accepted not only papal supremacy but Roman organisation. That she had not done so long before seems due to accident more than anything else. From mere remoteness of position Ireland had escaped the dominion of Imperial Rome. From the same remoteness she was comparatively slow to feel the influence of Papal Rome. Still, it can scarcely be doubted that had it not been for the Scandinavian intrusion, the Ireland which adopted the Roman Easter and the Roman tonsure before the middle of the eighth century, would have gladly accepted the palls long before the middle of the twelfth.15