On the 21st-Century Relevance of the Bottle Riot of 1822

Curmie may have retired from teaching theatre history (probably permanently this time), but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t remember stuff.  He once wrote a conference paper about the “Bottle Riot,” which happened at the Theatre Royal in Dublin in 1822.  So why is he writing about it today?  Have patience, Gentle Reader.  We’ll get there.

Ireland was still under British control then, and there were tensions between the Anglicans in power and the Catholic majority, especially since the former had a long and rather disgusting history of discrimination against the latter.  The Lord Lieutenant (a.k.a., the Viceroy) at the time, Richard Wellesley, tried valiantly to find some common ground, or at least some peace.

The Orange Order was named for William of Orange, who restored Anglican rule to Britain after his defeat of the forces of James II in the Battle of the Boyne in 1693.  The Orangemen had a rather unusual way of celebrating their eponym’s birthday, October 4.  They and their ideological brethren would gather around William’s statue in College Green (i.e., the campus of Trinity College Dublin, which was then a Protestant-only institution) and… wait for it… paint it orange! 

Like the Orange Order’s parades through Catholic communities in Northern Ireland in more recent years during “marching season” (early July, in commemoration of the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne), this exercise was part celebration, part intentional provocation of the Catholic majority.  It did indeed lead to skirmishes between the two factions.

Wellesley therefore forbade that particular observance in 1822.  Protestants in general and the Orange Order in particular didn’t take kindly to that decision, calling Wellesley a “papist sympathizer” amongst other more colorful locutions.

Fast forward a couple of months to late December.  Everyone knew that Wellesley was attending a performance of the classic Oliver Goldsmith comedy, She Stoops to Conquer at the Theatre Royal in Hawkins Street.  A group of still-angry Protestant men got good and drunk at a pub, then found their way to the theatre.  The inebriated insurgents proceeded to disrupt the proceedings: shouting, booing, using noise-makers, and so on.

But then one of liquored-up lads threw an empty bottle in the general direction of the Lord Lieutenant.  It hit a curtain in front of the royal box, tearing a hole “the size of a shilling” in the fabric.  That was the proverbial bridge too far.  The miscreants were pointed out by their fellow spectators and promptly taken into custody.

End of story, right?  Erm… no.  Wellesley’s secretary decided to up the charges from obvious things like creating a public nuisance or vandalism to attempted murder of the Viceroy.  There followed a series of less than ethical posturings on both sides: a grand jury hand-selected by the sheriff (an Orange Order member, himself) refused to indict.  The Crown then proceeded to bypass that pesky requirement and took the case to trial anyway.  (Hey, at least they weren’t sent off to Louisiana without as much as being charged with a crime…).

Anyway… when the case went to trial (this is the relevant part, Gentle Reader), the judge ruled that booing public figures was indeed acceptable behavior.  Even attending the theatre with the sole purpose of doing so was unethical but legal.  Ah, but gathering a group to create a nuisance constituted conspiracy. 

That judge’s ruling became the precedent for numerous other cases involving heckling or booing public figures at events.  OK, so that was the UK two centuries ago.  How is that relevant today in the US?  Well, there was the case of JD Vance and the little missus (that’s how the Veep undoubtedly thinks of her, after all) getting booed at a National Symphony Orchestra concert at the Kennedy Center.  (The photo above is of that concert.)

There are similarities with the Bottle Riot case: a public figure attending an artistic event intending to be seen rather than actually engaging with the performance, preferential seating for the politically powerful, a healthy round of boos from a not insignificant minority of those in attendance, the event in question rendered irrelevant or nearly so by the reaction to the celebrity attendee.  Most importantly, the spectators are extremely unlikely to have planned their response, at least together.  It’s doubtful that many people knew in advance that Vance would be there, although the Secret Service presence would have tipped them off.

There are differences, too, of course.  There was one shout that could have been “kill the Vice” (nothing close to the threats against TFG’s former Veep on January 6, 2021, of course), and sounded more like “kill that light” to Curmie. There are multiple reports of someone shouting that the Trump administration had “ruined this place,” although Curmie can’t find them on the video.  There were no projectiles, the protest did not interrupt the performance, and no one was arrested (apparently, at least). 

Vance is, of course, a total fraud from top to bottom.  He is an intellectual flyweight (that’s four weight classes down from lightweight, in case you were wondering, Gentle Reader) who has no core beliefs other than his own selfish interests, which are completely tied up with being a Trumpian sycophant.  Does he deserve to be booed?  Absolutely.  Is a concert the right venue?  Perhaps not. 

Of course, the right-wing talking heads went apoplectic.  Trump minion Presidential Envoy for Special Missions Richard Grenell, for example, whined that ”The intolerant Left are radicals who can’t even sit in the same room with people that don’t vote like they do. What has happened to today’s Democrats? They are so intolerant.”  <sigh>  Not voting the way I do doesn’t bother Curmie.  Firing people who are good at the valuable thing they do because they didn’t vote the way you wanted them to: now, that’s intolerance.

Right-wing hypocrisy continues to be manifest, and they absolutely should be mocked for it.  They’re fine with chanting “Fuck Joe Biden” (and its oh-so-cleverly coded version, “Let’s go, Brandon”), but the free speech guarantees of the First Amendment, as we all know, apply only to them.  Booing the VP is Un‘merkan. 

Vance’s reception, of course, was prompted in large part by his Lord and Master’s intrusion into the Kennedy Center’s operations, appointing himself as Executive Exalted Poobah Chairman of the Board, with Usha Vance as a board member.  The tipping point seems to have been the Center’s hosting drag shows aimed at kids last year.  The fact that such performances never existed is, of course, of no consequence whatsoever in Trumpistan.

There is absolutely no question that the audience response, individually and collectively, is protected speech.  Still, booing Vance was a little vulgar, something of a cheap shot, and perhaps evidence of a form of herd mentality.  That said, if that smarmy little jackass shows up in these parts, Curmie might just buy a ticket just to join in the boo-bird chorus.  You could too, Gentle Reader.  But remember: we didn’t talk about it beforehand.

Oh, and by the way… none of the Bottle Rioters were convicted.  Just sayin’.