Did June 6, 1780 Presage January 6, 2021?

One of the corollary idioms about history and its cyclical nature is Mark Twain’s statement that history doesn’t necessarily repeat, but it most certainly “rhymes.” When this author was looking into previous examples of politicians running for office while under indictment in the hope of gaining some insight on the odds of former President Donald Trump, Twain’s turn of phrase never seemed more apt after reading about Lord George Gordon and the Gordon Riots of 1780 and comparing the two to Mr. Trump and January 6th.

The Gordon Riots

The Gordon Riots, which took place in June of 1780, was a week when London witnessed an unprecedented escalation of violence and unrest, rooted deeply in both anti-Catholic sentiments  and broader societal woes. The catalyst for this civil disruption was the Papists Act of 1778, an ostensibly benign piece of legislation that loosened restrictions imposed upon Roman Catholics in England. 

As noted in a paper on the topic by historian George Rudé, the bill was “mild enough to those who accepted any toleration at all. It removed the threat of life imprisonment from priests who celebrated mass and from clergy and lay Catholics who kept or taught in schools. It also removed restrictions on the buying, holding, and inheriting of real property conditional upon swearing a specific oath of allegiance.” An extension of this bill later proposed that Catholics could serve in the armed forces – a boon for the Crown, which planned to recruit impoverished Catholics to fight in the American Revolution. 

Though the bill was rather toothless, it nevertheless caused some serious trepidation amongst the British Protestant majority, perhaps in a holdover from the Protestant-Catholic conflicts of the previous century. In Scotland, where tensions between Anglicanism and Catholicism were perhaps strongest, violent uproar over the act resulted almost immediately after the passage of the bill. 

In England, the outrage was not immediate but ultimately more disastrous, thanks to the bombastic Lord George Gordon. Gordon, an enigmatic and polemical persona of the era who was serving as the Member of Parliament from Ludgershall, quickly emerged as the primary antagonist to this legislative enactment. Helming the Protestant Association, Gordon adeptly galvanized thousands, orchestrating a colossal assembly in London, advocating vociferously for the act's repeal with a petition signed by 14,000 men. On June 2, 1780, around 60,000 men, under Gordon's aegis, gathered outside the Houses of Parliament to support Gordon and this attempted repeal.

Throughout the day, Gordon would argue his petition in Parliament before going outside and to “periodically [address] the crowd from the head of the gallery stairs reporting the progress of the debate, whether to incite them, as was later charged, or to attempt to keep them in order as he claimed . . . his words, as were recorded, can be read both ways. He hoped for a peaceful outcome in contrast to Scotland . . . . He urged patience, assuring the crowd that ‘the King is a gracious monarch’ who would ultimately instruct his ministers to honor their just demands, while reporting that he nonetheless mistrusted delay and that the cause was making no progress in the House. When he informed those within reach of his voice that there would be no action taken until Tuesday, four days later, he urged the crowd to leave and beware of any who would incite them to mischief,” Rudé described. 

That night, violence erupted in the streets of London, as they had in Scotland, and a few private homes and several chapels (albeit those that often served foreign diplomats) were targeted. However, though police made around a baker’s dozen of arrests the next morning, there was no large-scale attempt to quell the rioters. In fact, authorities decided against reinforcing law enforcement despite anticipating more violence. 

“The failure of the North government to act decisively is inexplicable, though consistent with its general tendency to dither,” Rudé noted of the decision against creating a more robust police presence. Though the next day, a Saturday, passed without much issue, the tide turned come Sunday, when a Catholic chapel was ransacked and burned. The barbarity continued into Monday, when more chapels and Catholic neighborhoods, boasting both homes and schools, were targeted. The mob even attacked the houses of the justices who had arrested the 13 men on Friday. The home of Edmund Burke was also attacked, though it was saved from damage thanks to a robust troop presence outside.

But Burke’s situation was the exception and not the rule; most troops did not intervene. Later, the Lord Mayor was to claim both that the number of men provided (73 total) had not been enough to stem the crowd and that the constables present had been averse to attack the protestors. 

June 6th was the Tuesday when debate reconvened, and the riots developed further into their arguable climax when protestors stormed Newgate Prison, which is where the 13 aforementioned men were being held. The protestors orchestrated a prison break before setting fire to the jail; this process was repeated with Clerkenwell, Bridewell and the New Prison. This was a level of lawlessness not seen previously.

June 7th was just as bad. More prisons were attacked, and the Bank of England were targeted and the toll-booth on Blackfriars Bridge. Fortunately, however, authorities finally summoned an appropriate troop presence to confront the mob. By Thursday, 10,000 military members were in London, as well as several militia regiments and volunteers.

By the end of the week, about “two hundred and eighty five people were shot dead, with another two hundred wounded; troops went about removing blue flags and cockades from people, and arrested four hundred and fifty civilians who had participated in the mob.” In what would later spur conspiracy theories, not one of the 14,000 men who had signed the original petition delivered by Gordon was arrested in the riots.

During that chaotic week, “representatives of the government tried to get Lord George to call off his mob. Lord George avowed, quite sincerely, that he had no contact with any rioters, only his own respectable associates, all the while insisting, in his monomaniacal way, that the means to distinguish the law abiding from the rioters was to repeal the offending legislation and so take away their excuse for disorder.”

This excuse was not good enough, and on Friday, June 9th, Gordon was arrested for inciting a riot. Gordon’s fate, including his election the following September despite his arrest, almost identical to Trump’s situation, will be the subject of our next  piece. 

Parallels To Today

It is interesting to see the startling number of similarities between the Gordon Riots and January 6th. Each was led by bombastic leaders who both riled up the crowd while also ostensibly pleading for peace; both men later were charged with inciting violence.

Both events had an incredible effect on the psyche on the nation; for the United States, think pieces and news programs covered the storming of the capital ad nauseam. For England, the Annual Register called the night of June 7th “one of the most dreadful spectacles this country ever beheld…every thing served to impress the mind with ideas of universal anarchy and approaching desolation.” Moreover, the mob violence seemed to serve as a warning against the dangers of populism and unfettered liberty, and boosted morale for the Revolutionary War when its popularity had been in serious decline.

Both events were surrounded with conspiracy theories. For January 6th, many on the right believe that false flag instigators provoked the attack on the capital. The Gordon Riots were faced with the same accusations – where “well-dressed men” spurred theories that a hidden elite had been behind the frenzy. As mentioned earlier, the fact that none of the petition signers were among those arrested only bolstered such claims, though there is no evidence for such claims.

Both events were plagued with a woefully inadequate law enforcement presence which allowed the mob to get out of control. Moreover, this seemed to be closer to a conscious choice than an oversight as authorities anticipated violence but did nothing.

Lastly, while the catalyst for each events was different – a presidential election versus the potential repeal of a bill – the public sentiment behind the two episodes was almost identical. As historians have later argued, the outcry for the Papist Acts was likely not so much anti-Catholic bigotry as a way to show distrust of institutions. 

The Act was strategically introduced in May, towards the end of a Parliamentary session when attendance in the House of Commons was sparse. It swiftly moved through both Houses unopposed and, by June 3rd, received royal assent. The architects of the Act consciously chose this approach, recognizing that while the "enlightened" perspective on Catholic rights leaned towards toleration and they would likely face minimal resistance from Parliament, the broader public sentiment differed. The rapid passage of the Act during a thinly attended session raised suspicions among the populace about the true intentions behind its enactment.

January 6th was also an expression of the suspicions of Trump voters against the government and whether deeper forces had unfairly tipped the election to current President Joe Biden. In that vein, trust in the federal government is at an all-time low, not just among those who participated in the protest on January 6th but across the board among the American public.

Interestingly, though the Gordon Riots were the most destructive riots in British history, few today have even heard about them. Their nebulous legacy, along with a look into Lord George Gordon, offers insight into the possible future of Trump and how January 6th might be looked in the future – and is next time’s topic.