The struggles of the Scottish Civil War of 1644–45 could easily be personified as a contest between James Graham, 1st Marquis of Montrose and Archibald Campbell, 8th Earl of Argyll. Yet at first glance there seems to be more that unites them than separates them. Both came from ancient and powerful families; both were originally Covenanters; both considered themselves loyal subjects of Charles I, then Charles II, who in turn betrayed each of them, and both died at the hands of the executioner. In this book Murdo Fraser examines these two remarkable men, underlining their different personalities: Montrose, the brilliant military tactician – bold and brave but rash, and Campbell – altogether a more opaque figure, cautious, considered and difficult to read. The result is a vivid insight into two remarkable men who played a huge part in writing Scotland’s history, and a fascinating portrait of a time of intense political upheaval.
The last Scottish history book I read was about the 1745 rebellion. For this one I went back another century to the Civil Wars that racked the British Isles in the 1640s. I’ve not read a great deal about this period, but I’ve had something of an interest in the Civil War in Scotland, not least because of the Battle of Inverlochy in 1645, which took place on a site about a mile from where I grew up. It was a victory for the Royalists, led by James Graham, Marquis of Montrose, against the Covenanters, led by Archibald Campbell, Marquis of Argyll. Murdo Fraser’s book focuses on the rivalry between these two figures, who were dominant in Scottish politics at the time.
The author is a Conservative member of the Scottish Parliament. I’ve seen him described in the press as the wittiest member of the Parliament, although some might say that’s akin to being described as the best-dressed man in the dosshouse. He’s a committed Christian, something which comes through in the book. (It’s perhaps worth mentioning that despite his own religious beliefs, he’s been a prominent supporter of a campaign to abolish Scotland’s medieval blasphemy law).
The fighting between Charles I and his Scottish opponents broke out before the Civil War in England. It was caused by the King trying to impose episcopacy in Scotland, despite the majority of the population being Presbyterians. These attempts eventually led to the drawing up of “the extraordinary document that was the National Covenant of 1638”. Copies were distributed throughout the Kingdom for the population to sign. Signatories pledged to defend “true religion” and the system for governing The Kirk (The Church of Scotland). It’s for this reason that the anti-Royalist forces in Scotland were referred to as “Covenanters”.
It’s hard for many modern readers (I count myself in this group) to grasp why people were prepared to go to war over what seems like theological hair-splitting. The author comments that in secular modern-day Scotland “any public figure who professes more than the most nominal faith is regarded with suspicion.” Despite the hint of bitterness in the remark, I personally agree with that assessment. The book highlights however that in the 17th century, “Piety was not simply a personal concern but a matter of the utmost concern for the nation as a whole.”
I felt the author created a decent though not outstanding narrative, and there were times when the book seemed a little too simplistic. For instance, in describing the aftermath of Inverlochy, he remarks that Iain Lom, an eyewitness and celebrated bard, wrote a famous poem to mark the battle. The book then includes an extract, in English. The author doesn’t mention that this poem, “Là Inbhir Lòchaidh” (The Day [of the Battle] of Inverlochy) was written in Scottish Gaelic, and that the quote was a translation. I thought that lack of context was a little misleading. At other times he seemed to give too much credence to quotes of doubtful provenance.
The book has its merits though. I liked the last chapter, where the author summarises his analysis. I tend to think of religion as a conservative force in society, one that resists rather than leads social change (in fairness, I think there are plenty of examples where that was/is the case). However, the author argues that in 17th century Scotland “it is impossible to overestimate the importance of religion as a driver for social change.” The Covenantors were driven by the belief that the King had no business telling them how they should worship. I suppose once you challenge the authority of the Monarch in one area, you quickly start to challenge it in others.
I’m not sure I entirely agree with the book’s overall conclusions, but it provides a different perspective from what I’m used to. It’s none the worse for that.
I really enjoyed reading this book and I think the author did an excellent job. While the author is rather balanced in his evaluation of both men, after reading it, I am all the more appreciative of Argyle and his support of Presbyterianism and the covenants.
2nd time thru. Well written. Argyll and Montrose were important figures at a pivotal time and it leaves one marveling at the hand of God at work in the chess of politics, stubbornness of Charles, defeat of armies, preservation of sound doctrine and the church in the midst of the turmoil of war, end of “the divine right of kings” and eventual establishment of a constitutional monarchy.
I thoroughly enjoyed this account of two contrasting men. One, dashing, reckless and charismatic, who fought an astonishing campaign in support of Charles I but who overreached and fell to die on the Edinburgh scaffold betrayed by the king whose cause he served. The other, cautious, moderate and calculating. He most resembles a modern politician with his capacity for thinking forward with the vision of a well founded polity. The author writes lucidly on military matters as well as the contortions of Scottish politics and the complexity of the relationship with the Commonwealth. It’s worth reading as a clear account of interesting times.
An interesting perspective on the two major figures of the civil war in Scotland. The key theory is that the two had much in common and there is a side argument that in the absence of factions that they couldn't operate effectively.