As I mentioned a while ago, historiography
becomes fun when a view different from the mainstream is offered. One such book
I reviewed here was Jenny Wormald’s re-evaluation of why Mary Queen of Scots
failed. Another such is the subject of this post (I said I had a pile of books
to review; this is another):
de Lisle, L., White King: Charles
I, Traitor, Murderer, Martyr (London: Chatto & Windus, 2018).
The first thing to note is, of course,
that this is remarkably up to date for something I read. Older books tend to be
cheaper, but this one was, firstly, a birthday present and, secondly, cheap at
Amazon, even in hardback. The economics of publishing and bookselling are way
beyond my ken, so I cannot account for this largesse from one of the most aggressively
profiteering companies on the web. Still, who am I to grumble?
The book is a biography of Charles I,
and it is, in my view anyway, something of an attempt to rehabilitate the man
as a king. De Lisle is aware of his faults, but casts the blame for a lot of
the problems of the early 1640’s, at least, on a clique of protestant,
Calvinist politicians, including Warwick and Pym, who had been engaged in treasonable
correspondence with the Scots before and during the first Bishop’s War and
needed to cover their traces in a hurry. Thus they attacked royal prerogatives,
royal favourites and policy in an attempt to arrogate to Parliament the powers
that they needed not to be executed fro treason.
De Lisle also believes that this
clique controlled to London mob, which they used when their arguments were
failing to intimidate their colleagues in both Lords and Commons to get their
way. Thus assorted Lords, Bishops and royalist inclined MPs excluded themselves
rather than face the mob surrounded the Houses of Parliament.
So far as it goes, I think this
argument is reasonable. However, to be convincing I think we would need to look
at the behaviours of London mobs more widely in the early modern period.
Certainly there was a fair bit of anti-Catholic and specifically anti-Spanish
sentiment around at the time, which the clique, (de Lisle calls it a junto)
could and did whip up. However, I suspect it might be a mistake to suppose that
the mob were controlled by the junto completely. Other seventeenth century (and
even eighteenth century) riots happened both with political sponsorship and without.
The book, therefore, is an effort to
shift blame for the civil wars from Charles himself to the wider, although
still elite, political classes. It is probably true that Charles gets rather a
bad press in much current and modern historiography. The Whig interpretation of
history, after all, sees Charles as a conservative block to inevitable progress
and his execution as a ‘cruel necessity’ along the way to the development of
true democracy, unity, financial power, imperialism and empire. Progress, the
implicit argument goes, cannot be blocked forever.
On the other hand, although oddly
similarly aligned, goes the Marxist theory that economic development, the rise
of the merchants, made the tussle for power between king and legislature
inevitable, and, given that the rising merchant class had the money and were in
Parliament, meant that the king would lose. Again, the development of something
(the bourgeoisie, in this case) is historically inevitable and attempts to
block it land up in disaster.
The effect of both of these theories
is to place the king and his supporters on the wrong side of history. Which, of
course, given that they lost (at least from a 1649 perspective) they were. De
Lisle does us a favour in drawing our attention to the contingent in history.
For example, she blames Lucy Carlisle for tipping off the five members that
Charles I was on his way to arrest them. If this had not happened, and the members been arrested, who
knows what might have been next. A cowed Commons, its radical leadership in the
Tower and on trial for their lives, would probably not have attempted to wrest
control of the armed forces from the Crown when the Irish rose in 1641. But who
knows, really?
I think that de Lisle overstates her
case a bit. Charles did make bad decisions and followed them up with worse
ones, on occasion. The ultimate problem he faced was that, for assorted reasons
to do with contingent events and royal policy, he lost the trust of a sizeable
chunk of the political nation. The junto may have had specific reasons for
doing what they did, but they were not just attempting to cover their backs.
The tensions in the political nation were real; personal concerns and political
concerns do go together.
There are of course other questions
outside the scope of de Lisle’s book. For example, given that battles are
notoriously contingent affairs, could the royalists realistically have won. If,
say, Rupert had won at Marston Moor, would Charles have felt able to offer some
decent terms to the peace party in Parliament and find a settlement. Again,
maybe and maybe not.
Overall this is a provocative, rather
populist, book. It is an easy read, and you do not have to be a specialist to
grasp the argument. That said, sometimes the names and their links can be a bit
bewildering. Whether the argument that the whole mess of the 1640’s was not Charles
I’s fault is made strongly enough is a bit moot. In the conclusion de Lisle
argues that Charles’ vision of society was one of hierarchy and mutual support.
The higher support and protect the lower; the lower owed service to the upper.
A meritocracy by contrast permits people to achieve by their own merits.
However, this suggests that the less successful have less merit that those who
rise to the top. On the other hand, she concedes that Charles felt any threat
to the order of society had to be squashed, and he did not have the practical
power to do so.
The problem with Charles’ view of
society, it seems to me, is that there is an assumption that those further up
the ladder are inherently able to lead. My experience of management is that this
is spectacularly not the case. Meritocracy may not work, but nor does
hierarchy. Charles failed in the basic requirements of kingship, by a good
number of measures at least. Why should anyone lower in the social ranks than
him have obeyed?
Fully appreciate your summation here, and sounds like a fascinating book.
ReplyDeleteYes - the assumption that higher ups display more than adequate leadership skills has seen the downfall of both monarchies and companies that I have worked for.
Case in point at the minute where the 'troubleshooter' has now assumed the mantle of Director. It does somewhat remind me of James II taking over from Charles II. Unfortunately we are now facing our industry's equivalent of the Battle of the Boyne, and he's over on the flank somewhere, blaming the Irish.
Charles I's troubleshooter was Strafford. Charles seemed to have believed that his signing of Strafford's death warrant was the reason for everything else - divine punishment on him for agreeing to the execution of an innocent man.
DeleteIt also didn't help that the rest of Charles' ministers started to show some concern for their necks after the execution. Quite a few bailed out.
It sounds like de Lisle has got his/her inspiration from the conspiracy theories on RT/Russia Insider about the Maidan. That's not to say it's not true but....
ReplyDeleteMy reading of the book is that she is trying to shift the blame onto the Warwick connection. Maybe, and maybe not. As some wise man once said, the best assumption is cock-up rather than conspiracy...
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