Latest / The History of Ireland: Rebellion, Empire, and Independence — Fexingo History / The Wolfe Tone and the United Irishmen: A Republic Born in Secret
Transcript
- Lucas: So today we're going back to the 1790s — to a man who's often called the father of Irish republicanism. Theobald Wolfe Tone. But his story isn't just about the 1798 rebellion, it's about the very idea of an Irish republic that was born in secret meetings in Belfast and Dublin. Luna: Wolfe Tone — I always think of him as this romantic figure, dying for the cause. But I don't actually know much about what he believed. Lucas: That's the thing — he was a Protestant lawyer from Dublin. His father was a coach maker, so not aristocracy, but educated. Tone studied at Trinity College, and initially he wanted to be a soldier, then a barrister. But what really radicalised him was the French Revolution. Lucas: In 1789, when the Bastille fell, Tone was in his mid-twenties. He saw the revolution as proof that ordinary people could overthrow tyranny. And he looked at Ireland — ruled by a tiny Protestant Ascendancy, with Catholics and Presbyterians excluded from power — and thought, why not here? Luna: So he wanted to unite Catholics and Protestants? Lucas: Exactly. That was his great insight. In 1791, he published a pamphlet called 'An Argument on Behalf of the Catholics of Ireland'. He argued that the real enemy was the English government, not the Catholics or the Presbyterians. And he convinced a group of like-minded men in Belfast to form the Society of United Irishmen. Lucas: The motto was 'United Irishmen, never to be disunited'. Their goal was parliamentary reform and Catholic emancipation — at first peaceful. But as the 1790s went on, the British government cracked down hard. They suspended habeas corpus, banned meetings, and drove the United Irishmen underground. Luna: So they turned to armed rebellion? Lucas: They did. And Tone became the key link to revolutionary France. In 1796, he went to Paris and convinced the French Directory to send an invasion force. And they did — a fleet of 43 ships carrying 15,000 soldiers, led by General Hoche. In December 1796, they appeared off the coast of Bantry Bay. Luna: I've heard of Bantry Bay — the great what-if of Irish history. Lucas: Exactly. The weather was appalling. Storm after storm. The French ships couldn't land. After a week, they gave up and sailed home. If they had landed, the rebellion might have succeeded. Instead, the British spent 1797 and early '98 disarming the United Irishmen, arresting their leaders, and torturing informers. Lucas: By May 1798, the rebellion was doomed before it started. The United Irishmen rose in Wexford, Wicklow, Antrim, and Down — but without French help, it was a desperate gamble. The biggest battle was Vinegar Hill, outside Enniscorthy. The rebels held the hill with pikes and a few guns, but the British artillery tore them apart. Luna: And Tone wasn't even there, was he? Lucas: No. He was in France, trying to get a second invasion. He landed in County Donegal in October 1798, with a small French force, but it was too late. The rebellion was crushed. Tone was captured and taken to Dublin, where he was tried for treason. Lucas: And here's the part that gets me. At his court-martial, Tone gave a speech that's one of the great statements of Irish republicanism. He said: 'I have laboured to abolish the infernal spirit of religious persecution — to unite Irishmen of all religious denominations — to substitute the common name of Irishman in place of the titles of Protestant, Catholic, and Dissenter.' Luna: That's beautiful. And he ended by demanding to be shot as a soldier, not hanged as a traitor. Lucas: Right. The court sentenced him to be hanged. But before that could happen, Tone cut his own throat in prison. He died a week later. He was 35. His last words — reportedly — were 'I am sorry I am so badly wounded.' Luna: So he denied them the spectacle of his execution. Very Wolfe Tone. Lucas: And that's the thing — his idea outlived him. The United Irishmen were crushed, but the dream of a non-sectarian Irish republic didn't die. It resurfaced in the Young Irelanders in the 1840s, in the Fenians in the 1860s, and ultimately in the Easter Rising of 1916. Every Irish republican since has claimed Wolfe Tone as their ancestor. Luna: You know, this actually ties into something I've been thinking about. This show is ad-free and listener-supported, and I feel like — if a single episode gives you that much to think about, maybe it's worth the price of a coffee. Lucas: Yeah, honestly. If today was worth a coffee to you, that's the link — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. We keep doing this because listeners like you make it possible. Luna: And it's not a big ask. Just whatever feels right. Lucas: So back to Tone — one more thing. After his death, his body was buried in the family plot in Bodenstown, County Kildare. And every year, republicans still gather there for a commemoration. It's a pilgrimage. The grave of a man who failed in his lifetime, but whose idea never died. Luna: That's powerful. And it makes me wonder — what if Bantry Bay had worked? Would Ireland have become a French-style republic? Lucas: It's one of history's great counterfactuals. But the very fact that we're still asking that question shows how much Tone matters. He didn't just want Irish independence — he wanted a new kind of Ireland, one where religion didn't divide people. And that vision, flawed and imperfect as it was, shaped everything that came after. Luna: Thanks, Lucas. I feel like I finally understand what Wolfe Tone was really about. Lucas: My pleasure. Next time, we'll look at what happened to the Catholic Emancipation movement after the Union — the story of Daniel O'Connell's campaign. But for now, keep asking questions.