One of the subtitles of this blog
should, perhaps, be ‘I read the books so you don’t have to.’ I have, indeed,
recently finished ‘Decisive Battles of the English Civil War’, by Malcolm
Wanklyn (Pen & Sword, Barnsley: 2014), which is, apparently, a revised
edition of a tome of 2004. It is a book that I really rather wanted to like and
enjoy, but I am not wholly sure that I did.
The first issue is, perhaps, with
the title. Now, often enough, titles are not the fault of the author, but, so
far as I can see, Wanklyn equates ‘decisive’ with ‘significant’. The two
battles of Newbury, which feature in the book, were, perhaps, significant, as
victory in the first for the Royalists and in the second for Parliament, could
well have decisively changed the course of the war. But significant is not the
same as decisive, although I suppose a book entitled ‘Significant Battles of
the ECW’ would probably be deemed to be boring.
By many measures, of course,
Austin Woolrych’s assessment in ‘Battles of the English Civil War’ that the
three decisive battles were Marston Moor, Naseby and Preston still stands.
Marston Moor cost the Royalists the north, Naseby cost the King his throne and
Preston cost him his life. Wanklyn observes that this can be nuanced, in that
the Royalists still drew resources from the north after the middle of 1644, and
that the King was still king after the middle of 1645 and was dealt with as
such. However, that is the fate of most broad brush-strokes of history.
Wanklyn does agree with Woolrych,
however, that the battles and their outcomes do need to be made more central to
historiography. Historians have a terrible tendency to be interested in stuff
like treaties and agreements. Woolrych noted that if one side or the other had
not won the battle, there would have been no need for the treaty. In ignoring
battles historians give a one sided view of the world. Battles, of course, have
only been disregarded in historiography since, roughly, the end of the Second
World War. This was coupled with the rise of Marxist interpretations of history
where, for example, the ECW is the result of the rise of the gentry (or the
fall of the gentry, or the rise of the merchant class, or whatever). The
brush-strokes are drawn more broadly. The result of a war is inevitable because
the economic factors make it so.
Thus, in seventeenth century
Britain, Parliament was inevitable going to win the English Civil Wars. If the
participants had known that, of course, they could all have stayed at home.
Wanklyn disputes that this is the case. Wars, campaigns and battles are
contingent and, therefore, the outcome can never be a result of simple economic
balance. Yes, Parliament had the bult of the economic resource, and, in fact,
the bulk of the population, to draw on. Possibly this had an effect, in that
the troops of Parliament tended to be slightly better equipped, paid and,
perhaps most decisively, present in higher number of infantry on the
battlefield. Nevertheless, in battle numbers and equipment are not decisive.
Wanklyn sees the need for
narratives of what happened on the battlefield to explain the outcomes of the
battles. However, he also argues that most of the narratives that we have are,
in part, made up. Some accounts simply assume that, say, the left wing of the
cavalry were in a certain place because that is what military theory says
should have happened. However, if this cannot be ascertained from historical
sources, it should not be assumed. He wants, in a sense, to produce a minimal
narrative, acknowledging the things that we cannot know because the sources do
not tell us.
Battles are, of course, complex
things. Participants, on the whole, cannot tell us very much, except that which
they themselves experienced. Putting the fragments of battle narrative together
is fraught with difficulty over geography and timing. Even more recent
developments, such as re-enacting and battlefield archaeology can only tell us
so much. Reenactors are not fighting battles, nor are they present in the
numbers (particularly of cavalry) that the originals had. Archaeology can only
tell us what evidence has survived. A concentration of musket balls may imply a
fierce fire-fight, or it may be where an ammunition waggon turned over. Nothing
can really be decisive in counting, at least as a single piece of evidence.
We might consider that Wanklyn is
impossibly post-modern in his approach, but in fact he would have an ally in Whatley
('On the Possibility of Reconstructing Marathon and Other Ancient Battles', The
Journal of Hellenic Studies 84 (1964), 119-139.). The point is that we
cannot ‘reconstruct’ battles. We simply do not have the evidence.
So what, you might ask, is the problem
with Wanklyn’s book? I think there are two. Firstly, there is the structure,
which takes each battle in two chapters. The first is on the context, sources
and landscape for the action, the second on a construction of what can be
known. Fair enough, but I found it a bit tricky to keep the balance between
what I read about the sources and what was accepted as evidence in the
narrative. Perhaps intermeshing the two would have made the battle narrative a
lot more broken up and difficult to follow, but at least it would have been
obvious to the reader why a piece of established historiography was being
rejected at a particular point. Maybe there is just no good way of doing this.
The second problem is with the maps.
Now, I accept that there is a great deal of uncertainty about locations,
geography, unit identity and so on, and that this has to be reflected in the
maps. The problem I have is that often geographical features are mentioned in
the text but are not on the map, leaving the reader confused as to what is
going on. A few more maps, for example of the route of the flank march of Waller’s
troops at Second Newbury, would have been helpful.
Overall this is an interesting but
slightly frustrating book. It is causing me to ponder afresh ECW fighting.
Wanklyn’s point is that ECW armies, when they functioned properly, we combined
arms forces. Cavalry needed infantry to operate properly and vice versa. Similarly
he argues that the forces were a lot more flexible in use that we might have
been led to believe from our, somewhat flawed, historiography to date.
It seems to me that it is also unfashionable to think that individuals matter, not even generals and the like yet it is not rare to find an individual so bumbling as to throw away a 'sure thing' or so above the average that they manage to turn the tables in battle and win despite the odds being heavily against them.
ReplyDeleteBut then, I suppose we can never really know that such a thing was not inevitable.
I get very frustrated with military histories where there is a low correlation between the place names on the maps and the places being referenced in the narrative.
I think that the 'marxist' analysis of the ECW, at least, is losing ground (if not 'has lost') but mostly the focus on the individual is on the King.
DeleteIn the battles it is rather hard to figure out which individual did what. Byron gets a lot of the blame for the right wing of the Royalists at Marston Moor, but Wanklyn notes that that comes from hostile sources, and a closer reading suggests that he was not at fault. But a lot of other historiography, if not sources, disagrees.
In short, its complicated...
Sounds a tall order to fit in any real critical analysis of the sources and provide a narrative for seven battles in 240 pages. Maybe the problem isn't so much the structure as the length. And the maps of course.
ReplyDeleteRead books on single battles (Edgehill* and Marston Moor**) which attempted the same but same length as the Wanklyn book.
* Scott, Turton and von Arni
** Newman and Roberts
I think you are right, but Wanklyn does doe some critique of the one volume works - things move on, I guess, and both the works you mention are in there with at least some nuance required.
DeleteThank you for another thoughtful and informative review squire.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome...
Delete