1688 and All That

How an Inglorious Revolution Poisoned the Anglosphere Down to Our Own Time

At the moment, two very different events are taking place: one is the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution — seemingly ignored outside those areas of the country where the hallowed events took place — and the other is reign of insanity by Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer, KB over the hapless subjects of the equally hapless King Charles III in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. His Majesty’s other realms — Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Jamaica, the Bahamas, and the like — are all independent, and so the local populations suffer similar abuse at the hands of their own political classes, as locally elected.

Both of these events are rooted in the same cause — the assumption of supremacy over the Monarchy by the-then English Parliament in 1688, in what its adherents are pleased to call the “Glorious Revolution.” By this, the sitting Monarch, King James II, was overthrown and replaced with the Dutch William III. According to the British Parliament’s website, “…these events are usually called the Glorious Revolution. What is ‘glorious’ about them and why are they often considered a turning point in the development of parliamentary democracy and civil liberties?” The reason is quite simple, of course; if one identifies Parliament’s decrees as the “Will of the People,” then the assertion makes sense.

But there was and is an alternative view. As the Marquis de Ruvigny wrote in the 19th century: “Jacobite was the name given to that party which, after the Revolution of 1688, continued to support the Stuart dynasty, as representing the principle of divine right. It was derived from Jacobus, the Latin for James. The origin of the party, however, may be traced to the reign of Charles I, for the Jacobites of 1688 were the direct successors of the Cavaliers of 1642, as the Whigs were of the Puritans.” But as the Canadian Noel S. McFerran points out: “Jacobitism is, however, more than merely a belief that a different person has the best right to the throne. It is also a radically different understanding of the place which the monarch and the monarchy have within society. Jacobites reject the idea that the king has his authority delegated to him by Parliament. Many hold that the king’s authority comes directly from Almighty God.”

This latter view descends of course from the old Catholic England and was held universally throughout Christendom. But it began to decay with the Protestant Revolt. Prior to that time, every Christian Monarchy held a very particular relationship with the Church. Legitimacy — the right to rule — was mediated to the Monarch through the Church, as symbolised by the Coronation. The Sovereign was obligated to assist the Church by both upholding her teachings and supporting her financially on the one hand; on the other, he was to provide for his subjects’ defence and welfare, so, in lieu of being starved or abused, they could work out their Salvation as brought to them via Sacraments, morals, and catechesis by the Church. In return, the Church upheld Royal authority, was a presence in every community (either geographically or in terms of interest), and also served as the Conscience of the King. In addition, although normally expected to finance his government out of his own properties, if emergency required extraordinary expenditure or mobilisation, he would call together the bishops, abbots, nobility, landed gentry, and urban leadership, and ask for either or both funding and advice. These “Estates of the Realm” were the forerunners of Parliaments in every European nation.

In England, this pattern remained until Henry VIII’s break with Rome. In common with some other European rulers, he created his own religious establishment — the Church of England — which inherited the role of the Catholic church in Parliament and community — although it obviously could no longer be the conscience of the King; in so doing, he overturned the Medieval balance. Henry VIII then suppressed the monasteries, distributing the lands among his supporters. While in the immediate this created a wealthy class who were committed to Henry’s break with Rome, their grandchildren would become a sort of Oligarchy that controlled Parliament; it was not a coincidence that Thomas Cromwell, Henry’s main instrument in the sack of the abbeys, was the great uncle of Oliver Cromwell.

To Charles I fell the thankless task of upholding the Royal prerogative and what remained of Christian governance in his three kingdoms of England, Scotland, Ireland, and their American possessions. That the King was aware of the problematic nature of his inheritance is bourne out by his negotiations for reunion with the Holy See. But the political assertion of supremacy by Parliament and the resulting wars in his realms made that idea impossible. His murder ushered in a decade of republican misrule under Cromwell, which ended when the army called Charles II back from exile. Adept at playing supreme ruler while placating the Oligarchs, the new King was able to keep order.

His Catholic brother, James II, who had come into the Church with his wife, Anne Hyde, was not so skilled. (James and Anne’s, daughters Mary and Anne, remained Protestant, the former marrying the Dutch Prince of Orange to make that “William and Mary” after whom the famous College in Virginia is named.), James’ wife having died, he married an Italian Catholic princess, Mary of Modena; but so long as the succession of James’ daughters remained Protestant, the Oligarchs were willing to bide their time. When James’ new wife had a son — the future James III, according to his supporters — the Oligarchs rebelled, sent for William of Orange, and deposed their King. For James and his followers, it meant defeat in England in 1688, and in Scotland the following year, with the death of Bonnie Dundee; Ireland would follow with the Williamite Wars, ending with the broken Treaty of Limerick. The Jacobites fled to Continental Europe, renewing the network of Catholic English, Scottish, and Irish institutions that had flourished there since Henry’s time; they would attempt to regain the throne for the rightful King in 1715, 1719, and 1745-46. They failed, and the Cavalier and Jacobite cause, despite its romantic appeal and revival among writers and artists in the late 19th century, slowly ebbed out of politics, leaving behind the Tory Party. This in turn, ever less tied to its doctrinal origins, morphed into the Conservative Party of our day, which stands for nothing decent — like its main rival, the Labour Party. While William and Mary, and then Queen Anne, would retain a certain amount of influence, this ended with the arrival to the throne of the childless Monarchs’ German cousin, George of Hanover.

Speaking no English, George left the running of the country to his Prime Minister and the Oligarchs in Parliament. When his great grandson, George III, ascended the throne in 1760, his modest desire was not to regain the power his office had held before 1688, but merely that influence Queen Anne had enjoyed. His attempt at this brought about political opposition by the Oligarchy at home, and armed resistance by the little colonial Oligarchies, which, in turn, led to our first civil war 250 years ago and our subsequent independence. The intervening centuries since then have seen the gradual transformation of the ruling Oligarchy from a land-based bunch of self-proclaimed Protestant Christians to one based in finance and technology with no real religion save the worship of themselves and their often-disgusting appetites. For the Monarch to oppose that hideous strength would of course be suicide — not least because His Majesty himself owes his throne to precisely the same 1688 affair that put their predecessors (though rarely ancestors) into power. So it is that the dreary Sir Keir continues to force his subjects further downhill, as do most of his colleagues in the other Commonwealth Realms — albeit quite independently.

Even so, the rituals and ceremonies of the British Monarchy remain the desiccated bones of what was once a vibrant Catholic order. Charles I died trying to revive them; Charles II managed to maintain an illusion; James II’s grandson, Bonnie Prince Charlie — de jure Charles III — lost his youth fighting for their restoration. It was often said before the current King succeeded his mother on the throne that he would take the name “George VII,” partly to honour his grandfather, partly to avoid the Catholic, Cavalier, and Jacobite associations of his own name. This writer was quite surprised when he took the name “Charles III,” as a result. Is there a message of some kind there?

Whether intentional or not, in the face of what rules Europe, Latin America, Britain, and the rest of the Anglosphere to-day, we should seek recognize the various ruins of Catholic order that are still to be found from Portugal to Russia and in Europe’s daughter countries beyond the Seas (such as our own), and do our best to pray and work that these bones might live.

BRITISH HISTORY RESOURCES

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