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| Down Survey | 2003
Issue Contents
Pursing
the Millennium: Thomas Russell's attempt to raise Antrim and Down
in 1803
Although the seizure of Dublin formed the cornerstone
of Robert Emmet's plan for insurrection in 1803, Dublin was not
to be the only field of action. A number of supporting provincial
risings were also planned, notably in Kildare, Wicklow and in Ulster.
The Ulster rising was to be led by Thomas Russell, one of the most
intriguing radical figures of his day, and the only United Irishman
whose career spanned the founding of the society in 1791 and its
last stand in 1803. Born in Dromahane, near Mallow, Co. Cork, in
1767, Russell was a former army officer who had fought in India
in the 1780s. After his return to Ireland he became a close friend
of Theobald Wolfe Tone and helped found the United Irishmen. One
of the most committed and militant United Irish leaders, Russell
settled in Belfast in the early 1790s and was a key architect of
the United Irishmen's transformation into a revolutionary organisation.
A rambler by nature, he was perhaps the most geographically and
socially mobile of all the United Irishmen, equally at home at the
table of aristocratic friends or eating potatoes in the cabin of
a cottier. His contact with the poor convinced him of their political
intelligence and discernment, and he became a fervent advocate of
the political rights of the common man. On a personal level, Russell
was an immensely charismatic figure, strikingly handsome, intelligent
and charming, who exerted a strong fascination on contemporaries.
He was a complex and contradictory man; deeply religious, he had
trained to be an Anglican clergyman in his youth, but drank heavily
and engaged in frequent casual sexual liaisons. It was this latter
contradiction that led Tone to nickname him T.R' after the fictional
character of a young clergyman who, despite his intentions to live
a virtuous life, frequently succumbed to the temptations of women
and drink. But for all his bantering. Tone loved him like a brother,
and during his exile in America and France lamented Russell's absence
as the greatest loss he had sustained.
During the mid-1790s Russell cropped up frequently
in the reports of informers as one of the key leaders of the growing
army of disaffected in the North. Dublin Castle regarded him as
a particularly dangerous figure and ordered his arrest in September
1796. He spent the next six years in prison, in Newgate in Dublin,
and Fort George, near Inverness in Scotland. Soon after his release
in June 1802 he met Robert Emmet in Amsterdam, and they discussed
the prospects of a future rising in Ireland. When in the spring
of 1803 Emmet decided to prepare for insurrection, he summoned Russell
home from exile in France.
As a United Irish veteran, well known and respected
among Irish republicans, and a link with the martyrs of '98 such
as Tone and Henry Joy McCracken, Russell was seen by Emmet as bringing
essential experience and prestige to the venture. In particular.
Emmet regarded Russell's reputation in the North as invaluable in
giving the proposed insurrection a truly national character, and
made him 'general of the Northern district'. Two veteran United
Irishmen, James Hope originally from Templepatrick, County Antrim,
and William Henry Hamilton of Enniskillen, were assigned to Russell,
and the three travelled north in mid-July to make the final preparations.
Hamilton was entrusted with fomenting a rising in counties Cavan
and Fermanagh, while Russell and Hope were to concentrate their
efforts on Down and Antrim. In Belfast, Russell met a number of
his old United Irish colleagues, but found most of them reluctant
to commit themselves to a rising. His preparations were given additional
urgency when news came from Emmet that there had been an explosion
at one of the arms depots in Dublin on 16 July which had excited
some suspicions. To forestall discovery the date of the rising was
brought forward to Saturday 23 July. Russell sent immediately for
Hamilton, with orders to abandon his efforts in Cavan and entrusted
him with raising County Antrim.
Russell was completely confident of success:
he believed Ulster to be seething with disaffection and that he
could rally an army of 50,000 men. However, as he sought to raise
support in his old command of County Down, Russell continually met
with apathy and caution: local people proved reluctant to commit
themselves, particularly when they learned that there were no arms
to be distributed. Around 20 July Russell moved on to County Antrim,
where he hoped for a better response. But here too he met with disappointment.
His first attempt to rally support was at Carnmoney, whose inhabitants
had earned a notorious reputation for disaffection in the 1790s,
but here only a small crowd of about a dozen people gathered to
listen to him and these refused to help in any way. He travelled
on to Broughshane, where he spoke to a larger crowd of about fifty.
To impress them Russell donned his striking green uniform
embroidered with gold lace, and urged them to
take up arms, promising that similar risings were about to take place
throughout the country. But again, the crowd were merely curious and
showed no enthusiasm for rebellion.
With the date set for the rising fast approaching,
Russell was running out of time and he spent the last few days desperately
trying to organise support. On Thursday 21 July he held another
meeting in Belfast with United Irish veterans of 1798. Russell was
questioned closely on his plan and the level of support he expected,
but he refused to reveal any such details, and the meeting broke
up with only a handful of those present prepared to give a vague
commitment to turn out.
That night Russell returned to County Down
to make another effort to rouse the people for the insurrection
scheduled to take place the following night. In a public house at
Annadorn, a village about 4 miles east of Downpatrick, he summoned
a meeting of eight or nine men. He announced that there was to be
a general insurrection throughout Ireland, that blows would be struck
simultaneously at Dublin, Belfast and Downpatrick, and that United
Irish forces would also march on the villages of Clough and Seaforde.
But again the locals were cautious: one of them telling Russell
that his neighbours "would hit me in the face" if he suggested
they turn out, while another bluntly maintained that "none
but fools would join them".2
Later that day Russell travelled on to Loughinisland,
where an inhabitant of the neighbouring village of Clough told him
that the men of his village wanted nothing to do with any rebellion;
the local priests had spoken against it and the people would "be
hanged like dogs" if they turned out. By this stage Russell
was exhausted from his constant travelling and exhortation, and
was baffled and frustrated by the reluctance of the people to come
forward. With time running out, he left Loughinisland, and set off
towards Downpatrick.3
Here he planned to meet up with a contingent
of rebel forces at Ballyvange, just outside Downpatrick, which had
been chosen as the rendezvous for the attack on the town. Earlier
in the day, a group of fourteen men, armed only with pitchforks,
had formed here, but they grew tired waiting for orders and gradually
melted away. By the time Russell arrived only three men remained.
Since an attack on Downpatrick was now out of the question, Russell
decided to return to Loughinisland to make yet another attempt to
rally its inhabitants, but as they still refused to budge, he left
in the early hours of the morning for County Antrim.4
In Antrim, however, his colleagues were faring
no better. On Saturday 23 July Hamilton was bluntly told that Belfast
would not act. Hamilton and Hope then travelled on to Kells, County
Antrim, where some men seemed eager to make a stand, but they were
too few to mount any effective action. Moving on to Ballymena they
learned that a body of men had assembled, but most of them had returned
to their homes when they heard the news that Belfast had not risen.
The town's demoralisation was sealed when a false report was circulated
that Russell had gone to Dublin to persuade Emmet to call off the
entire insurrection. Only Hamilton, Hope and a local leader remained
ready to act. The next morning they went to Slemish mountain and
met some men from Carnmoney and Templepatrick, but they were too
few to act on the original plan to march on Belfast or Carrickfergus.
In Broughshane, Ballyclare and several other parts of Antrim, the
story was the same: small groups gathered but they lacked determined
leaders and decided to wait until some favourable news was received.
Faced with such a paltry response Hamilton and Hope had no choice
but to abandon their efforts and go into hiding and when Russell
eventually arrived in the county he was unable to find them.5
The poor response to Russell's call was largely
due to the understandable unwillingness of local people to sacrifice
themselves in what must have seemed a hopeless effort. It was also
the case that the government agents, notably James McGuicken of
Belfast, had done much to sow seeds of doubt in their minds and
generally frustrate Russell's plans. McGuicken managed to secure
a position of authority among the disaffected in County Down which
he used to caution local people against any rash acts6. He consistently
advised the people to await the news from Dublin before coming forward-a
step that appeared eminently sensible to most of them. When the
effective disruption carried out by such agents is added to the
rebel weaknesses, there is little wonder that the northern rising
turned out to be the shambles it was.
Russell had completely misjudged the mood of
the province: he barely managed to raise fifty men, let alone the
50,000. Ulster had undergone many changes since the mid-1790s when
Russell had traversed its roads as a United Irish emissary-changes
he failed to appreciate during his long imprisonment and exile.
By 1803 the crushing defeats at Antrim and Ballynahinch in June
1798 were still fresh in people's memories and there was a marked
reluctance to take on well-armed crown forces again. Moreover, the
idealism generated by the French revolution in the early 1790s had
largely dissipated in the wake of France's aggressive conduct towards
her neighbours and Bonaparte's cynical manipulation of the revolution's
ideals. By 1803 the heart had largely gone out of the northern United
Irish movement, and many former United Irishmen had put the radicalism
of their youth behind them and joined the yeomanry.
In reviewing his failure in the North Russell
believed that "courage alone was wanting ... to render our
success not only certain but easy"7, but much more than courage
was wanting. The rebels lacked almost everything else required to
effect a successful insurrection-popular support, arms, money, and
a realistic plan of action. Russell was convinced that his very
presence was itself enough to raise the province and the systematic
planning and detailed preparations required for an effective insurrection
were almost wholly neglected. His plan of action was rather makeshift:
local contingents in the hinterlands of Belfast and Downpatrick
were to seize the arms of the local yeomanry and them attempt to
take the towns. But Russell's system of communications was inadequate
even for this. His understandable obsession with secrecy meant that
orders could not be conveyed to his lieutenants until the last minute,
which resulted in the assembly of poorly organised groups who had
no real idea of what action they were to take. Naturally enough
these lost heart and soon dispersed when the expected instructions
or signals were not received. Had Russell been able to distribute
large quantities of arms, point to a French invasion or a successful
seizure of the capital then enough men might have flocked to his
standard to mount an insurrection worthy of the name, but without
any of these his efforts were doomed.
It seemed that Russell's career had come full
circle. He had found his most congenial home in Belfast and, like
Tone, he idealised the town as the cradle of Irish republicanism.
During the mid-1790s he had pounded the roads of Ulster recruiting
United Irishmen, with considerable success. Seven years later, he
seems to have believed that he was stepping back into the Ulster
of 1796. Though he himself had gone from being a reformer to a revolutionary
in a relatively short space of time, he failed to appreciate that,
in a rapidly changing political landscape, things could just as
easily happen in reverse. Now, as he sought to rekindle the enthusiasm
of the 1790s, many former radicals looked on with apathy, if not
downright hostility.
Russell's efforts to raise Ulster - riding
through Antrim and Down in his general's uniform haranguing the
unwilling inhabitants to take up arms and free their country - struck
many contemporary observers as ludicrous. In the face of mass apathy
that would have caused other men to re-think their plans, Russell
never once thought of abandoning his mission. The picture that emerges
is of a man with a tenuous grip on reality, maintaining a quixotic
confidence in victory in the face of overwhelming evidence to the
contrary. Some who had known him believed that in the last months
of his life he had become mentally unbalanced. The United Irishman
William Sampson accused the government of turning Russell's "once
gentle heart ... to desperate madness" by imprisoning him without
trial for almost six years, while his old friend from Belfast, Martha
McTier, also believed that his mind had been greatly affected by
his time in8 prison.8
Russell's career can be seen as breaking down
into heroic and tragic phases. The heroic phase was the period of
the mid-1790s when he showed immense courage, energy and resourcefulness
in building up the United Irish movement throughout Ulster, and
was later immortalised in ballad as the elusive and mysterious 'Man
from God-knows-where'. The tragic phase was clearly his attempt
to raise Ulster in the summer of 1803. What separated these phases
was his imprisonment, which bore heavily on him: he was a physically
active man and a lover of the outdoors, and was always at his happiest
striding through the Mourne or Sperrin mountains observing the beauties
of nature. The two and half years he spent in a gloomy, dank, badly-ventilated
cell in Newgate, the worst of Dublin's prisons, greatly damaged
both his health and his spirits, and he pined for freedom. Prison
brought little refuge from the temptations that had plagued him
on the outside - prostitutes and whiskey were readily available
in Newgate - and as he indulged in them more and more he sank into
the depths of despair, and bitterly castigated himself for relapsing
into "fornication and lust".9
Russell was deeply troubled by his failure
to reconcile his personal behaviour with his deeply-held religious
beliefs. Born a Protestant, he respected all forms of Christian
belief, and had played a key role in drawing Catholics into the
founding of the United Irishmen in 1791. The unity of Catholic and
Protestant was not just a means to an end for him as undoubtedly
it was for many United Irishmen, but a sacred goal in itself. Always
a regular reader of the Bible, during his imprisonment Russell increasingly
found solace in millennialist prophecies which allowed him to make
sense of his own and his country's sufferings. Millennialism - the
belief that the Second Coming of Christ was imminent and would be
followed by a thousand years of peace and justice on earth - became
the dominant strand in his thinking during his incarceration.
Russell's years in Belfast probably played
an important part in this regard. In Ulster several well-known Presbyterian
ministers such as Samuel Barber, Thomas Ledlie Birch and William
Steel Dickson, formed an important element in the leadership of
the United Irishmen. They fused their advanced politics with apocalyptic
beliefs, preaching sermons and publishing tracts with explicit millennialist
themes throughout the 1790s. Such beliefs were widespread in the
1790s, when the French revolution, following so quickly on the heels
of a successful revolution in America, created a consciousness of
living in an era of unprecedented change. With old certainties disintegrating,
people cast around for explanations, and to many it seemed that
the events prophesied in scripture were finally coming true, and
heralded the coming of Christ's kingdom on earth. Many observers,
including Russell, believed that the millennium would come about
through the progressive spread of liberty throughout the world,
and that it was the duty of all Christians to do their utmost to
create this New Jerusalem.11
After the failure of 1798 Russell's millennialism
became the driving force behind his determination to renew the revolutionary
struggle. The combined effect of the continuation of the war in
Europe, its spread to the Middle East, and the bloody summer of
1798 in Ireland, seems to have only intensified his belief that
the world was presently engaged in the time of troubles which the
Book of Revelations had foretold would precede the coming of Christ's
kingdom. As with many crusaders, adversity only served to steel
his resolve. Although his efforts in 1803 failed dismally, he believed
that the cause of justice and liberty had merely lost a battle in
a war in which there could be only one ultimate victor. To his brother
he had written some years earlier: "whatever attempts are made
... to extinguish liberty, or to retard her progress, I have no
doubt of her ultimate and speedy success".12
These ideas were nurtured by Russell's anguished
personal life. Painfully aware of the chasm between his virtuous
intentions and sinful actions, he often contrasted his shame at
his private behaviour with his pride in his political activism.
In the last weeks of his life he wrote to a friend that while morally
he acknowledged himself to be a grievous sinner, "politically
I have done nothing but what I glory in". 13 He fervently hoped
that his political actions would compensate for his moral failings,
and that "our Lord and Saviour will, in eternal life, reward
those who laboured for the welfare and happiness of mankind".14
Behaviour, therefore, that appeared redolent
of madness to some contemporaries has to be seen in the light of
Russell's millennialist beliefs. The statements he prepared for
the government and his letters to friends and all seem perfectly
sane. Moreover, level-headed conspirators such as Hope and Hamilton
were willing to follow him, and such men would not have subjected
themselves to the command of a madman. That said, there seems little
doubt that Russell's millennialist zeal was carried to such an extreme
that it seriously impaired his judgement during the last months
of his life.
After his failure to raise Ulster Russell went
into hiding. At first, he stayed at the houses of some sympathisers,
but after a number of narrow escapes he was reduced to sleeping
in ditches to avoid capture. In early September he heard of Emmet's
arrest and went south to Dublin, possibly to attempt to rescue him.
By now he was the most wanted man in Ireland, with a price of £1500
on his head. Spotted by an informer, he was arrested on 9 September
in Parliament Street, only a stone's throw from Dublin Castle. The
government believed it would be best to try him in his old stomping
ground of County Down, where the execution of such a well-known
and once popular figure would serve as a warning to any lingering
pockets of disaffection and finally extinguish any remnant of rebelliousness.
On 20 October Russell was tried in Downpatrick, found guilty of
high treason and sentenced to death. Even then millennialist matters
were foremost in his mind. After sentence was passed he asked for
three days to complete and publish a millennialist tract. However
the authorities believed that Russell sought the extra three days
only to allow time for a French invasion that might save his life,
and they turned down his request. The sentence was carried out the
following day on a makeshift scaffold outside Downpatrick gaol.
Russell behaved with firmness and serenity, spoke briefly to the
assembled crowd, gave his blessing to those who had attended him
and put the rope round his neck himself. He was then hanged and
after a few minutes cut down and beheaded, and his severed head
displayed to the watching crowd. His remains were taken by some
friends and hurriedly buried nearby in the small cemetery of Downpatrick
parish church, where a plain stone slab marks his grave.
James Quinn is Executive Editor
of the Royal Irish Academy's Dictionary of Irish Biography. He has
published a biography of Thomas Russell and several articles on
radicalism in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Ireland.
Further Reading:
James Quinn, Soul on Fire: a Life of Thomas Russell (Dublin,
2002) Brian S. Turner (ed.), A Man Stepped Out for Death: Thomas
Russell and County Down (Newtownards, 2003) Francis P. Gallagher,
A Blood Red Autumn: Thomas Russell and the Irish Rising of 1803
(Dundrum, Co. Down, 2003) Denis Carroll, The Man from God Knows
Where (Dublin 1995) C. J. Woods (ed.). Journals and Memoirs of Thomas
Russell, 1791 -5 (Dublin, 1991)
Notes and References
1. McClelland to Wickham, Carrickfergus, 9 Aug. 1803 (British Library,
Hardwicke papers. Add. MS 35770/80-81).
2. Evidence of John Keenan of Annadorn, Belfast News Letter, 25
Oct. 1803; deposition of Patrick Doran, 4 Aug. 1803 (Myrtle Hill,
Brian Turner and Kenneth Dawson (eds). 1798 Rebellion in County
Down (Newtownards, 1998), 265).
3. Evidence of Patrick Lynch and James Fitzpatrick, Loughinisland,
and Patrick Renaghan, Clough, Belfast News Letter, 25 Oct. 1803.
4. Evidence of John Tate of Downpatrick at Russell's trial, Belfast
News Letter, 25 Oct. 1803; deposition of John Tate, a shoemaker,
1803 (Hill et al, 1798 Rebellion in County Down, 265, 270-71); see
also Ruthven to R.R. Madden, Downpatrick, 17 Jan. 1837 (TCD, Madden
papers, 873/671); Mary Ann McCracken to Madden, 2 July 1844 (TCD,
Madden papers, 873/155).
5. R.R Madden, Lives and Times of the United Irishmen (Dublin, 1846),
3rd ser.,ii, 217; evidence at trial of Andrew Hunter and William
Porter, Belfast News Letter, 28 Oct. 1803; Samuel McSkimin, 'Secret
history of the Irish insurrection of 1803' in Frazer's Magazine,
xiv (July-Dec.,1836), 556-7; memories of Mary Ann McCracken, n.d.
(TCD, Madden papers, 873/672).
6. McGucken (aka 'Belfast') to Marsden, 8 July 1803 (M.MacDonagh
(ed.). The Viceroy's postbag (London, 1904), 276-7)).
7. Russell to Frank McCracken, c. Aug. 1803 [?] (copy) (TCD, Madden
papers, 873/640).
8. Memoirs of William Sampson (New York, 1807), 359; Martha McTier
to Sarah Drennan, Oct. 1803 (D. A. Chart (ed.). The Drennan letters
. . . 1776-1819 (Belfast, 1931), 331).
9. Russell's journal, 21 Nov. 1797 (TCD, Sirr papers, 868/1, f.
2).
10. Pieter Tesch, 'Presbyterian radicalism' in D. Dickson, D. Keogh
and K. Whelan (eds). United Irishmen, 46-8; James Donnelly, 'Propagating
the cause of the United Irishmen' in Studies an Irish quarterly
review, Ixix (1981), 16-17; I. R. McBride, Scripture Politics: Ulster
Presbyterians and Irish radicalism in the late eighteenth century
(Oxford, 1998), 199.
11. Russell to Templeton, 5 June 1802 (TCD, Madden papers, 873/638).
12. Thomas Russell to John Russell, Fort George, 10 Dec. 1800 (copy)
(TCD, Madden papers, 873/655).
13. Russell to Frank McCracken, Oct. 1803 (copy) (TCD, Madden papers,
873/642).
14. Russell to ?, 5 June 1802 (TCD, Madden papers, 873/673).
15. Russell's speech from the dock, 20 Oct. 1803 (TCD, Madden papers,
873/700, f. 3); Mary Ann McCracken to Madden, 2 July 1844 (TCD,
Madden papers, 873/155).
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