The King's War: 1641-1647 is the second book in historian C.V. Wedgwood's trilogy on the English Civil War.
The storyline picks up where The King's Peace 1637-1641 left off, with England tearing itself apart over largely overblown Protestant concerns that King Charles I and his wife Henrietta Maria are crypto-Catholics intent on converting the country from the faith of Luther. As the first volume concluded, Parliament (Roundheads) and the king and his men (Cavaliers) were on the verge of full-blown civil war.
The Coventantor movement in Scotland, also a response from concerned Protestants over King Charles's attempts to implement directives like a new Prayer Book and objectionable methods of worship, was coming to pose a further threat to peace in the king's dominion. A third complicating factor was a Catholic revolt in Ireland largely directed at Protestant English landowners and rumors that King Charles was willing to ally with the Irish rebels to enforce his supposedly Catholic leanings.
Things really get going in book two on January 4th, 1642.
Charles attempts to have his five leading Parliamentary opponents arrested. He shows up in person to arrest John Pym, John Hampden, Denzil Holles, William Strode, and Arthur Haselrig. As they were not present, the king makes a fool of himself by showing up in person to Parliamentary House in order to carry out the arrests.
Wedgwood insinuates this act cost Charles what Royalist support remained in London and was poor political calculation on his end.
Had Charles succeeded," she wrote, "his act of inspired audacity would have been an object lesson on the might and authority of the Sovereign against the factious subject. But if there was the least risk of failure, the project was folly; the attempt, and not the deed, would confound him utterly. He would not, unless he acting on an absolute certainty, have taken part in the arrest himself, for by doing so he cut off his own retreat; he would never be able to shift the blame."
Parliament's attempts to seize the initiative are blunted by divisions in London between the Presbyterians (members focused solely on the anti-Catholic religious element of the war and who will, it is assumed, spare the king if he merely apologizes and backs off his religious reforms) and a second group who want to take out the king at all costs and form a sort of all-powerful Parliament.
A smaller group, the Levellers, want to accomplish what their name indicates: using the conclusion of the war to create a society where differences not just in religion but in social status and rank are levelled. They are held up as believers of a proto-Thomas Paine style of democracy.
These huge divisions did hurt the Roundheads' side, but the Cavaliers had their own issues. The king was frequently shown to grasp at straws and continue to hold out hope for victory even when his Royalist cause was in shambles, and divisions between Royalists like Prince Rupert and Lord George Digby ended with them at one another's throats when they needed to be piecing together a coherent strategy to defeat their Parliamentary enemies.
The king operates from the home base he sets up in York, while his wife is overseas during the book's entirety seeking to get aid from European capitals ranging from Paris to the Hague. The book also brings the positions of countries like France and the Netherlands toward the English Civil War into focus, and to hear the author tell it, "King and Parliament each had to be on terms with foreign powers if only to prevent the other gaining help from them."
But Charles had a huge disadvantage from the get-go-the Royalist side's inability to control England's seaports is a huge liability through The King's War 1641-1647, even more so when it comes time to find potential landing spots for pro-Charles troops from Ireland.
Both sides in the war sought to maintain a delicate balancing act. The king maintained that he was not against the idea of Parliament per se, but against the wicked faction of counsellors who had seized power in it. In the same vein, the leaders of Parliament distinguished between not wanting a king (which, until the rise of the non-Presbyterian faction, was maintained) and merely wanting to turn Charles away from his own evil counsellors who had poisoned the well of their relationship.
The machinations between Charles and Ireland/Scotland could fill its own volume, as he goes back and forth with Ireland's Earl of Ormonde and Earl of Antrim and has to manage the attempts to put down the Scottish Covenanter rebellion with no help from the likes of the Marquis of Argyll.
Without getting too into the weeds, Wedgwood does an admirable job weaving together all the subplots of the English Civil War with their political, religious, and familial undertones and overtones. She brings these together nicely into a coherent narrative which does not look focus on the overarching arguments over where the real locus of power (Parliamentary or King Charles I) should lay in Great Britain.
The first recorded clash takes place July 15th, 1642 between Royalist Lord Strange and Parliament's Lord Wharton in Manchester. This had followed a period of both sides whipping up a frenzy to recruit troops, with London coming out strong for the Roundheads and Wales chipping in a lot for the Cavaliers. The anti-Popish feeling in London was not glossed over; a scene is recounted where "the rabble....broke up (the Capuchin) chapel, destroyed the altarpiece by Rubens and burn an image of that 'deceiving warlock' St. Francis of Assisi."
Although Catholics did commit atrocities in Ireland against the Protestant landowners, England was a hotbed of anti-Catholic violence during the war: a young missionary priest by the name of Father Heath was disemboweled after being hung in Tyburn.
Although the book's coverage of the war's various battles is serviceable, it does not go into excessive detail but instead harnesses its energy for focusing on the broader picture.
There is, however, a compelling retelling of the Battle of Edgehill, where Prince Rupert (the king's son-in-law, a veteran of the 30 Years War on the mainland, and one of the primary Royalist commanders in the book) and Sir Jacob Astley, who took over for the pouting Earl of Lindsay, duke it out with the Earl of Essex's troops in the largely inconclusive, though deadly, October 23rd, 1642, battle.
Out of East Anglia, Oliver Cromwell's Parliamentary army comes to play an increasingly big role in the war. Cromwell is sketched in by Wedgwood as a cryptic man whose intentions and machinations are often kept under the tightest of wraps. His role in the New Model Army and the growing clout he gains in the House of Commons as the war progresses are unspooled really well by Wedgwood.
Cromwell's pummeling of the Royalists at the Battle of Naseby in June 1645, on top of his victory at Marston Moor the previous summer, were major boons to his cause when it came time to push for leadership in a post-Charles England. Cromwell's religiosity comes through in his responses to his triumphs, and he increasingly becomes a leader of the anti-Presbyterian faction in the House of Commons.
By the spring of 1646 even Charles could no longer deny the dire straits he was in. The book laid out one Cavalier defeat after another and the constant drip of bad news for the Royalists, with the king even pleading toward the end for the Vatican to intervene on his behalf. In May, he made yet another miscalculation brought on by these dire straits: surrendering himself into the hands of the Covenanters in Scotland.
Charles hoped that he could exploit the growing chasm between the Presbyterians, disproportionately Scottish, and the increasingly Cromwell-led sectarians. But his faulty reasoning was increasingly apparent, as he was not willing to sign the Coventnating oath and the Presbyterians seemed to be okay with harshly punishing Charles.
He was operating under the assumption that, as a sovereign without peers, there was no way his captors would entertain the idea of putting him on trial or causing any physical harm to befall him. But as the book winds to a close, it becomes more and more apparent that he was mistaken: the Scots very well might be willing to deal with the sectarians when it comes to giving him what they viewed as his just desserts.
The King's War, 1641-1647, is such a fabulous work of nonfiction. It keeps up the spectacular pacing of the first entry, and the host of characters and subplots (thanks to Wedgwood's skill as a writer) congeal into a strong story.
Even when unconventional theologians like John Lilburn and John Goodwin pop up or a man with both warmaking and diplomatic callings like the Earl of Loudon make appearances, they fit right in with the thread running through the English Civil War's storytelling universe.
This book was close to earning five stars. But despite being two volumes into this trilogy, Charles I still seems a hard to pin down figure. It was probably challenging for Wedgwood to do this given his duplicitousness in the realm of politics, but his motivations and persona still border on impenetrable at times. Since the book is supposed to focus on him as the fulcrum on which the conflict moves, this causes it (although just barely) to miss out on five stars.
But it is still worth reading and replete with elegant prose for a nonfiction book.
It fills in a lot of gaps that all but the biggest buffs of English Civil War history might have, and its presentation of the causes and personalities behind this awful conflict are pulled off with a high level of panache.
Four and a half stars for sure would be fair.
-Andrew Canfield Denver, Colorado