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The White King: Charles I, Traitor, Murderer, Martyr
WINNER HISTORICAL WRITERS ASSOCIATION NON-FICTION CROWN 2018
From the New York Times Bestselling author and master of narrative nonfiction comes the critically acclaimed story of Charles I, his warrior queen, Britain's civil wars and the trial for his life.
Barely forty years after the England's golden age under Elizabeth, the country was at war with itself, split between loyalty to the Crown and Parliament, with armies raised in Scotland and Ireland, and fighters arriving from Europe to wage war on English soil for the last time in England's history. The English Civil War would set family against family, friend against friend, and its casualties were immense—a greater proportion of the population than in World War I. England had become a failed state.
At the head of the disintegrating kingdom was the figure of the king: Charles I. In this vivid portrait—newly informed by previously unseen manuscripts, including royal correspondence between the king and his queen, some of it written in code—Leanda de Lisle depicts a man who was not cruel enough for his cruel times. He would not persecute his opponents in the bloody style of his Tudor antecedents, or throw his servants to the wolves to save his own skin in the time-honored royal style. He was tutored by his father in the rights and obligations of kings, but had none of his father's political subtlety and experience in survival. In a court of remarkable women he was happily married—but to a French Catholic princess, which caused consternation to his protestant subjects. Principled and high minded, he would pay a terrible price for the personal honor he so valued, and for having enemies more ruthless than he was. Nothing, however, would reflect on his character as much as the scene at his terrible death, speaking on the scaffold as a “martyr of the people.”
In his own destruction Charles did not sow the seeds of the monarchy's destruction but its rebirth. England's revolution lasted eleven unhappy years and the Crown was then restored, to national rejoicing. Today England enjoys rule by parliament and monarch while the Church of England has the bishops Charles was determined to preserve. More radical religious experimenters took their faith to the New World and the seeds of a republic, leaving England to mend its wounds and restore its fortunes and future as the world's preeminent constitutional monarchy.
From the New York Times Bestselling author and master of narrative nonfiction comes the critically acclaimed story of Charles I, his warrior queen, Britain's civil wars and the trial for his life.
Barely forty years after the England's golden age under Elizabeth, the country was at war with itself, split between loyalty to the Crown and Parliament, with armies raised in Scotland and Ireland, and fighters arriving from Europe to wage war on English soil for the last time in England's history. The English Civil War would set family against family, friend against friend, and its casualties were immense—a greater proportion of the population than in World War I. England had become a failed state.
At the head of the disintegrating kingdom was the figure of the king: Charles I. In this vivid portrait—newly informed by previously unseen manuscripts, including royal correspondence between the king and his queen, some of it written in code—Leanda de Lisle depicts a man who was not cruel enough for his cruel times. He would not persecute his opponents in the bloody style of his Tudor antecedents, or throw his servants to the wolves to save his own skin in the time-honored royal style. He was tutored by his father in the rights and obligations of kings, but had none of his father's political subtlety and experience in survival. In a court of remarkable women he was happily married—but to a French Catholic princess, which caused consternation to his protestant subjects. Principled and high minded, he would pay a terrible price for the personal honor he so valued, and for having enemies more ruthless than he was. Nothing, however, would reflect on his character as much as the scene at his terrible death, speaking on the scaffold as a “martyr of the people.”
In his own destruction Charles did not sow the seeds of the monarchy's destruction but its rebirth. England's revolution lasted eleven unhappy years and the Crown was then restored, to national rejoicing. Today England enjoys rule by parliament and monarch while the Church of England has the bishops Charles was determined to preserve. More radical religious experimenters took their faith to the New World and the seeds of a republic, leaving England to mend its wounds and restore its fortunes and future as the world's preeminent constitutional monarchy.
432 pages, Hardcover
First published October 31, 2017
160 people are currently reading
1841 people want to read
About the author
Leanda de Lisle
16 books350 followersLeanda de Lisle is the author of bestselling Tudor and Stuart history praised for meticulous research as well as strong narratives. She has a Masters degree in history from Oxford University. TUDOR, her biography of the Tudor family 1437-1603, was a top ten Sunday Times best seller, BBC History book of the year, Daily Telegraph book of the year, and History Today book of the year. THE SISTERS WHO WOULD BE QUEEN; THE TRAGEDY OF MARY, KATHERINE AND LADY JANE GREY, was a New York Times best seller and is the inspiration for Phillippa Gregory's 2017 novel THE LAST TUDOR. Her latest book WHITE KING,, a biography of the doomed Charles I, is her most dramatic yet and is the winner of the 2018 Historical Writers Association non-fiction crown.
Leanda does a monthly podcast on itunes Ten Minute Tudors, it uncovers the true Tudors and Stuarts behind the myths.
Leanda does a monthly podcast on itunes Ten Minute Tudors, it uncovers the true Tudors and Stuarts behind the myths.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 115 reviews
November 3, 2017
As a Tudor historian, it is nearly impossible to review works set during the time period without seeing the content through the jaundiced lens of your own biases. More often than not, there is room for multiple interpretations of the documented evidence, but it can be hard to overcome the instinctual gut-reaction humans experience when faced with an opinion that differs from one they wholeheartedly embrace about historical figures they have come to cherish. That uncomfortableness is invaluable when we seek academic growth, but it makes reading for pleasure a challenge. Thankfully, I had few preconceived notions about England’s first Caroline king, and when I was offered the opportunity to review the latest take on his life, I leapt at the chance. Few things can compare to the joy I feel when introduced to a new historical subject and this beautifully crafted biography did not disappoint.
The subtitle of Leanda De Lisle’s The White King calls the monarch a traitor, murderer, and martyr, but upon completion of the book, I have come away with the impression that the only fitting descriptor used is martyr. The other titles seem far too subjective for this oft-misunderstood king.
Though Charles’ reign came many years after the death of the ginger-haired tyrant at the head of the Tudor court, the spectre of Henry VIII looms large throughout this biography. His reign and personality are held against those of Charles I to show how vastly different they were and just how much the world had changed in the intervening years. The charges of tyranny lodged against the latter monarch pale in comparison to the actual tyranny perpetrated by Henry VIII and his children, yet none of their reigns ended with the humiliation of the scaffold, as Charles’ did. Even more striking are the parallels De Lisle makes with our current political climate – where “populism meets religious justifications for violence” and “the rise of demagogues, who whip up mobs by feeding off ethnic and religious hatreds.”
De Lisle brings the figures surrounding Charles I to life with the strident confidence that accompanies the historian who fully understand their subject. All of their graces and foibles are fully explored; their ever-changing allegiances reported without a hint of sentimentality. If their motivations are not revealed in the primary sources, they are left unexplained here, preserving the jarring atmosphere Charles must have felt during his reign. Even the most historically savvy reader is never quite certain where loyalties lie or how often the tides will turn. In the hands of a less experienced historian these twists would be rendered into a confusing mess, but De Lisle deftly navigates the murky waters with expert precision.
My favorite part of The White King was the focus on Robert and Henry Rich and their cousin, Lady Lucy Carlisle. Having spent the better part of the last decade researching Catherine Carey, Lady Knollys, it was refreshing to see the role her descendants played during this tumultuous time in English history. The fealty they showed their monarch was far from the devotional loyalty Lady Knollys was known for in her lifetime, but the Puritan proclivities of their great-grandfather, Francis, remained un-diluted. I often found myself wondering what their grandmother, Lettice, would have thought of their intrigues. Lady Carlisle appears the most like her ancestor. Like Lettice, she even bore an uncanny resemblance to the queen she served.
I thoroughly enjoyed De Lisle’s inclusion of the correspondence between the king and his wife, Henrietta Maria, recently unearthed from the Belvoir archives. Through their words, the unjust depictions of the queen fall apart at the seams, and Henrietta Maria is finally given the recognition she deserves. The emphasis on Charles family life is most touching here. The love and devotion they showed to him speaks volumes about his character.
A well-written and impeccably researched biography, The White King seeks not to revise the history of England’s Civil Wars, but uncover the truth hidden beneath the grime of centuries of propaganda and myth.
May 26, 2019
After the Plantagenets the Stuarts are the dynasty (sorry Tudor fans) that really spark my interest. The history in this period - 1603 to 1714 - is one of monumental challenge, change, disruption and new horizons. Religion (and persecution) including radical and new branches of politics as well as old alliances and European interests and influences that bring upheaval and the costly and violent civil war followed by regicide and republic (aka commonwealth). Changes also at Court plus plague and fire; science and discovery; new technologies and fine arts and then Restoration, the Glorious Revolution and Act of Union.
Turning from my "sales pitch" for the Stuarts to the book, White King: The Tragedy of Charles I (the UK paperback title) by Leanda de Lisle it encapsulates much I have mentioned above, and is a good solid read.
Using many new letters and documents from untapped or researched sources the author provides, in a single and highly readable volume, the life of Charles I. For people who have read about Charles I there will be familarity but Ms de Lisle adds interesting depth and new light, especially around Henrietta Maria, Charles's wife, and Lucy Carlisle.
The book's strength is to take a complex period with a wide cast of characters and pivotal events and turn this into a readable and very informative account. I read on Amazon one reader complaining it was nothing but a love story: it does indeed cover Charles and Henrietta but does this in a structured way that adds and strengthens the story; after all Henrietta was loyal, courageous and influential in Charles's behaviour and for his cause. Seeing both and their family in this book provides insight and understanding.
As we move from youth to kingship and the challenges religion, European wars, money and parliament bring we see a monarch who - to this reader's mind - works to satisfy his personal beliefs (God's representative on Earth) and his role in as England's king. We read of his friends, allies, enemies and those who flit between sides. The culmination of the story is of course the long civil war years and the to-ing and fro-ing of battles, victories, losses, alliances and desparate journeys, retreats and parleying and then capture, trial and death. He is flawed as any man, but shines through in this book as one ves his family, has with and believes his place will make the country great and good.
Ms de Lisle has created a riveting and enjoyable book that for a one volume account of Charles and his life this is to be recommendedand and should be a "must" read for some time.
Turning from my "sales pitch" for the Stuarts to the book, White King: The Tragedy of Charles I (the UK paperback title) by Leanda de Lisle it encapsulates much I have mentioned above, and is a good solid read.
Using many new letters and documents from untapped or researched sources the author provides, in a single and highly readable volume, the life of Charles I. For people who have read about Charles I there will be familarity but Ms de Lisle adds interesting depth and new light, especially around Henrietta Maria, Charles's wife, and Lucy Carlisle.
The book's strength is to take a complex period with a wide cast of characters and pivotal events and turn this into a readable and very informative account. I read on Amazon one reader complaining it was nothing but a love story: it does indeed cover Charles and Henrietta but does this in a structured way that adds and strengthens the story; after all Henrietta was loyal, courageous and influential in Charles's behaviour and for his cause. Seeing both and their family in this book provides insight and understanding.
As we move from youth to kingship and the challenges religion, European wars, money and parliament bring we see a monarch who - to this reader's mind - works to satisfy his personal beliefs (God's representative on Earth) and his role in as England's king. We read of his friends, allies, enemies and those who flit between sides. The culmination of the story is of course the long civil war years and the to-ing and fro-ing of battles, victories, losses, alliances and desparate journeys, retreats and parleying and then capture, trial and death. He is flawed as any man, but shines through in this book as one ves his family, has with and believes his place will make the country great and good.
Ms de Lisle has created a riveting and enjoyable book that for a one volume account of Charles and his life this is to be recommendedand and should be a "must" read for some time.
September 24, 2020
The style of writing is explanatory, and not engaging to me. Therefore, I’m not the right reviewer for this book. There are others who appreciate this style of writing and they will reveal veracious reviews.
October 1, 2017
As I began the book, I was a little sceptical – was this going to be yet another biography of King Charles I, slamming him for his faults and never mentioning his qualities? Or would it be more gushing like a hagiography? Out of all the biographies of King Charles that I had read, the only one I thought well-balanced was the short biography by the late Mark Kishlansky. I wondered what de Lisle would bring to the sovereign’s story that hadn’t already been told many times.
By the end of the first chapter, however, all my doubts had vanished. By the middle of the book, I had learned interesting facts I hadn’t known before. By the end of the book, I was sure that this was one of the best books on Charles I yet written.
De Lisle certainly does know how to write strong, compelling narratives. I think her research is impeccable, and her access to and use of private letters from the closed archives at Belvoir Castle, for example, brought a fresh perspective to a story I – and many others- know well. Her best – and vital – talent, is perhaps her commendable ability to see the whole picture, the shades of grey, and not once did I find her narrative biased one way or another. De Lisle’s beautiful writing embraces nuance, not the categorical; she also does not fill her narrative with irritating twenty-first-century judgements of the seventeenth century.
For the full review, please visit: http://www.andreazuvich.com/book-revi...
By the end of the first chapter, however, all my doubts had vanished. By the middle of the book, I had learned interesting facts I hadn’t known before. By the end of the book, I was sure that this was one of the best books on Charles I yet written.
De Lisle certainly does know how to write strong, compelling narratives. I think her research is impeccable, and her access to and use of private letters from the closed archives at Belvoir Castle, for example, brought a fresh perspective to a story I – and many others- know well. Her best – and vital – talent, is perhaps her commendable ability to see the whole picture, the shades of grey, and not once did I find her narrative biased one way or another. De Lisle’s beautiful writing embraces nuance, not the categorical; she also does not fill her narrative with irritating twenty-first-century judgements of the seventeenth century.
For the full review, please visit: http://www.andreazuvich.com/book-revi...
January 1, 2022
This was interesting and detailed.
The author has bias that she never attempts to separate from her work.
She doesn't seem to understand the difference between 'race' and 'ethnicity'. At the time that this applies 'race' as a concept hadn't yet developed. Oh there was horrid antiblackness-Queen Henrietta performed in Black face in a horribly racist and denigrating play. So the idea that Black people were less than existed. It just wasn't yet formalized into what we would today recognize as 'race'.
That being said white people in the UK are all the same race. White Irish people aren't a separate race from White Scottish people🤦🏽♀️
What the author is referring to is ethnicity.
The Irish were never enslaved. They were treated horribly, ethnic cleansing was practiced upon them and they were forced into Indentured Servitude. Indentured Servitude is awful and a crime against humanity. It's not 'slavery' though. That refers to chattel slavery in which your yet to be born children, grandchildren, great grandchildren into perpetuity will inherit your condition of slavery.
Indentured Servitude by design rarely lasted a whole lifetime, occasionally but rarely inherited by a child. It would be unheard of for it to extend past that. Comparing the 2 is a classic tactic of white supremacy.
Again for the people in the back
🗣THE IRISH WERE NEVER ENSLAVED
Anyway the info on Charles I was well handled, well researched and interesting.
With the exception of the tone above I quite enjoyed this.
The author has bias that she never attempts to separate from her work.
She doesn't seem to understand the difference between 'race' and 'ethnicity'. At the time that this applies 'race' as a concept hadn't yet developed. Oh there was horrid antiblackness-Queen Henrietta performed in Black face in a horribly racist and denigrating play. So the idea that Black people were less than existed. It just wasn't yet formalized into what we would today recognize as 'race'.
That being said white people in the UK are all the same race. White Irish people aren't a separate race from White Scottish people🤦🏽♀️
What the author is referring to is ethnicity.
The Irish were never enslaved. They were treated horribly, ethnic cleansing was practiced upon them and they were forced into Indentured Servitude. Indentured Servitude is awful and a crime against humanity. It's not 'slavery' though. That refers to chattel slavery in which your yet to be born children, grandchildren, great grandchildren into perpetuity will inherit your condition of slavery.
Indentured Servitude by design rarely lasted a whole lifetime, occasionally but rarely inherited by a child. It would be unheard of for it to extend past that. Comparing the 2 is a classic tactic of white supremacy.
Again for the people in the back
🗣THE IRISH WERE NEVER ENSLAVED
Anyway the info on Charles I was well handled, well researched and interesting.
With the exception of the tone above I quite enjoyed this.
February 7, 2018
The reign of King Charles I in the sixteenth-century England is nothing less than a tragedy ridden with civil war, the dissolution of the monarchy, the ‘reign’ of Oliver Cromwell, and eventual regicide. What went wrong during this dramatic time? Was Charles a victim or antagonist? Leanda De Lisle attempts to answer these questions among others in, “The White King: Charles I, Traitor, Murderer, Martyr.
Readers expecting a simple biography of Charles I or a portrait of the times will be sorely disappointed in “The White King”. On the other hand, rest assured that De Lisle’s work is a fresh look at the topic rather than a straight-laced history piece. “The White King” eschews a deep, personal look at Charles in order to highlight the intricacies and the events that took place during his reign. De Lisle’s view isn’t biased but is instead well-researched and an encompassing take on all of the individuals and actions involved.
De Lisle does unfortunately, in this vein, have the habit of wandering off on a tangent and also comparing events to that of Tudor England (not necessary). This doesn’t impede the strength of “The White King” but it can occasionally slow the pace.
Noticeably, “The White King” finds its stride as it progresses and becomes more detailed and riveting. De Lisle presents previously unseen manuscripts and is able to showcase new information/material bringing varying angles to even those readers well-versed on the topic. This certainly makes “The White King” standout.
That being said, ‘something’ about De Lisle’s voice feels stifled and held back (even generalized, in some sense). One wants to tell her to just stand her ground and really vibrate. “The White King” reverberates, though, with literary and floral language giving it an occasional narrative feel that makes history entertaining. De Lisle would be very capable of penning an excellent historical fiction piece.
De Lisle’s coverage of the trial and execution of Charles is emotive and induces heightened responses more so than the former sections of “The White King” while maintaining the academic edge. This is certainly the climax of “The White King”.
Unfortunately, after this, the concluding chapter of “The White King” is very one-note and rushed. Even though De Lisle gives a run-down briefing of the lives of figures involved with Charles’s downfall after his death; the wrap-up is compulsory and unsatisfying. De Lisle does redeem this with an afterword exploring the psychological personality of King Charles and some of the qualities that caused his downfall. De Lisle’s arguments are solid and add substance to the piece.
De Lisle supplements “The White King” with some lightly annotated notes and a section of color photo plates which truly stick out – usually the same checklist of photos are used in history texts while De Lisle includes those unseen even by readers heavily focused on the Stuart period.
“The White King” serves as an ample introduction into the tragedy and psychological discourses of the fall of King Charles I. Although not the best book on the market concerning the topic; De Lisle’s is solid, readable, and with an underlying narrative-like entertainment value. “The White King” is suggested for those interested in the topic of seeking an introduction or King Charles I aficionados whom must simply read any and all materials available.
Readers expecting a simple biography of Charles I or a portrait of the times will be sorely disappointed in “The White King”. On the other hand, rest assured that De Lisle’s work is a fresh look at the topic rather than a straight-laced history piece. “The White King” eschews a deep, personal look at Charles in order to highlight the intricacies and the events that took place during his reign. De Lisle’s view isn’t biased but is instead well-researched and an encompassing take on all of the individuals and actions involved.
De Lisle does unfortunately, in this vein, have the habit of wandering off on a tangent and also comparing events to that of Tudor England (not necessary). This doesn’t impede the strength of “The White King” but it can occasionally slow the pace.
Noticeably, “The White King” finds its stride as it progresses and becomes more detailed and riveting. De Lisle presents previously unseen manuscripts and is able to showcase new information/material bringing varying angles to even those readers well-versed on the topic. This certainly makes “The White King” standout.
That being said, ‘something’ about De Lisle’s voice feels stifled and held back (even generalized, in some sense). One wants to tell her to just stand her ground and really vibrate. “The White King” reverberates, though, with literary and floral language giving it an occasional narrative feel that makes history entertaining. De Lisle would be very capable of penning an excellent historical fiction piece.
De Lisle’s coverage of the trial and execution of Charles is emotive and induces heightened responses more so than the former sections of “The White King” while maintaining the academic edge. This is certainly the climax of “The White King”.
Unfortunately, after this, the concluding chapter of “The White King” is very one-note and rushed. Even though De Lisle gives a run-down briefing of the lives of figures involved with Charles’s downfall after his death; the wrap-up is compulsory and unsatisfying. De Lisle does redeem this with an afterword exploring the psychological personality of King Charles and some of the qualities that caused his downfall. De Lisle’s arguments are solid and add substance to the piece.
De Lisle supplements “The White King” with some lightly annotated notes and a section of color photo plates which truly stick out – usually the same checklist of photos are used in history texts while De Lisle includes those unseen even by readers heavily focused on the Stuart period.
“The White King” serves as an ample introduction into the tragedy and psychological discourses of the fall of King Charles I. Although not the best book on the market concerning the topic; De Lisle’s is solid, readable, and with an underlying narrative-like entertainment value. “The White King” is suggested for those interested in the topic of seeking an introduction or King Charles I aficionados whom must simply read any and all materials available.
October 17, 2018
As with Nicholas II, the last ruling Romanov, how we view Charles I is largely set by how his days ended. And as with Nicholas, we have been further conditioned by generations of propaganda pumped out by the winners and their ideological allies, claiming that it was Charles’s own bad philosophy, coupled with incompetence, rather than mostly bad luck and choices only wrong in retrospect, that led to his death. Leanda de Lisle’s "The White King" rejects the fake news and offers an even-handed view.
Charles’s appellation of “White King” is obscure and long forgotten. De Lisle resurrects it, in order to “inspire curiosity,” for it is double-sided and shows the split of views about Charles. To some, he was a saintly martyr. White is the color of innocence, and also the color of the pall of snow that covered Charles’s body as he was carried to his grave in February of 1649. Thus, it was an emotional term used by his supporters after his death. But during his life a “White King” was also the subject of an ancient prophecy of an evil king to come, and therefore his enemies also called him by that name, casting him as a malevolent presence, the “traitor” and “murderer” of the subtitle.
The history here is straightforward, and begins with a brief account of the reign of Charles’s father, James I, who was also, and first, James VI of Scotland, and became King of England in 1603. James succeeded because Elizabeth I had no issue; he was the great-great-grandson of Henry VIII, and son of Mary, Queen of Scots, executed by Elizabeth in 1587. James died in 1625, generally regarded as not a bad king, who continued the middle way of the Church of England, rejecting Scots Presbyterianism and upholding episcopacy, but persecuting Catholics as Elizabeth had. He also oversaw the creation of the King James Bible, an example of his general focus on domestic concerns, avoiding foreign wars and, critically, not spending beyond his means. James lacked Elizabeth’s gift for public relations, although he was popular enough, and he communicated to his son (and to all his children—despite being rumored to be homosexual, he had eight children) a lofty view of the divine right of kings.
As with so many things from that earlier age, though, the divine right of kings is not understood today, being seen merely as, in de Lisle’s terms, “ridiculous and perverse,” and Charles’s reputation is tangled up with the confused view we have of that political theory. It probably has more to recommend it than meets the eye, and in the English context never meant the complete supremacy of the king, rather that the authority he had was not derived from contract or consent. It meant a strong king, one who could stand above and control faction, using his power to benefit everyone, while Parliament also maintained considerable power; supremacy was “the king in Parliament.” (As de Lisle notes, the English franchise was broad. “Every freeman with property valued at over £2 had the right to vote—as much as 40 per cent of the adult male population.”) Moreover, the king was “bound to make a reckoning to God for [his] subjects’ souls as well as their bodies,” an ancient principle among monarchs in the Christian West—for example, it was a major element of Charlemagne’s thought and actions. What is more, some elements of what we think of as divine right theory are purely fictional: for example, as de Lisle mentions, the idea that medieval English kings as children each had a whipping boy, a friend who was punished for the prince’s transgressions because the king could not be struck due to his exalted status, is a complete myth. The king got spanked like everyone else. But, like so many myths about medieval times, from prima nocte to the origin of “rule of thumb,” it’s an ideologically useful myth, in this case for those opposed to monarchy on principle and wedded to contract theories of political sovereignty. In reality, Charles did not think of himself, divine right or no, as an autocrat. He recognized the critical role Parliament had in government; his objection was that Parliament was trying to hobble him to a degree that made him unable to fulfil his own critical role. Given the other complexities of the age, this made conflict inevitable.
Unlike his father, Charles quickly became involved in European conflict, raging since the beginning of the Thirty Years War in 1618. (This was the original sin of his reign, since without war, the English crown didn’t need Parliament to vote it money; it received enough money from its own lands and traditional fee sources of income.) Much of Charles’s reign turned on ever-shifting alliances and deals with France and Spain, as well as, more distantly, various Central European states, all of whom were embroiled in their own wars, which had (but were not purely determined by) a religious element. (His elder sister Elizabeth married Frederick, Elector of the Palatine, a German territory; she was called the “Winter Queen” since the Protestant Frederick was kicked out of his lands by the Catholic Habsburgs after only a few months of actual rule.) From the perspective of England, these alliances turned largely on a combination of complicated religious alignments and other national priorities, such as trade and the balance of power.
Charles needed a suitable wife, and tried to but was unable to find an appropriate Spanish bride. That might not have been the best idea; the Spanish were on the wane, and anyhow demanded significant concessions to Catholicism. So quickly, in 1625 Charles turned to Spain’s enemy, France, and married Henrietta Maria, daughter of the assassinated French king Henri IV and Marie de Medici, the powerful mother of Louis XIII and sometime regent of France. As de Lisle is at pains to point out, for hundreds of years the Roman Catholic Henrietta Maria has been cast as a malevolent little simpleton. In de Lisle’s account, this is grossly unfair and merely more propaganda from the winners in the Civil War and their ideological descendants. She was little, true, but fierce and extremely competent, and a major asset to Charles. De Lisle, in fact, located a previously unknown cache of letters between the two, in the private archives of Belvoir Castle, and uses them to great effect to support her point, although I don’t know enough to have an opinion of my own. It didn’t help her popularity, however, that mostly England fought France and was allied with Spain, so between that and her religion, the queen was seen, even during her lifetime, by many as an alien and dangerous presence.
Royalists and Parliamentarians drifted to war, tossed about by a confusing brew of religious conflict, class conflict, ethnic conflict among the three kingdoms now under one ruler (England, Scotland, and Ireland), and much else. Even “Parliament” wasn’t really an entity for war purposes; many of those who served in the Commons as the war began joined up with Charles, and most of the Lords did as well. For a very long time, both in America and England, Parliament has been seen as the righteous party in the English Civil War, and Charles as a benighted and sinister enemy of liberty (although the Irish think otherwise, due to their ill treatment by the Protestants, as shown by the modern song, by the Pogues, with the refrain “God rot you Oliver Cromwell, who raped our motherland”). Again, this is history as written by the victors, through the prism of Enlightenment dogma, and ignores that much of Parliament, and most of England, was strongly opposed to a large portion of the actions taken in Parliament’s name during the war, and even more to the execution of Charles. And none of this can be comprehended without the backdrop of a complex set of Protestant groups (English Catholics as such played almost no role in the Civil War): Covenanters, Presbyterians, Arminians, and so forth, along with, as the war played out, increasingly radical sects such as the Levellers, Diggers, and Fifth Monarchy Men (the latter not mentioned by de Lisle, but they fascinate me), all in a giant kaleidoscope, collectively complicated matters in a way new in English history.
One especially interesting fact about the war is that it was conducted in parallel in the media. It was the first English war where propaganda in the form of pamphlets and rapidly churned out books made a major difference in public opinion. Some of this seems silly to us but was important at the time—for example, parliamentarians accused Prince Rupert of the Rhine, Charles’s nephew and an essential Royalist general, of keeping a poodle that was a satanic familiar; Charles’s supporters wrote parody responses, like a seventeenth-century version of the Onion. More seriously, both sides wrote lengthy justifications for their positions, including Charles’s last work, the Eikon Basilike, posthumously published, which sold like hotcakes, undermining Cromwell’s Protectorate and paving the way for the Restoration.
After several years of back-and-forth warfare, in which a greater percentage of Englishmen died than in World War I (although brutality was far less than in Continental wars), with Parliamentary progress made possible only by cooperating with invasions by the radical Scots Covenanters, and the rise of Oliver Cromwell, Charles was defeated. Even though he had lost, Charles’s execution was far from inevitable. English kings had more than once been murdered after defeat, but to execute a king after legal process was largely inconceivable. His death resulted from a combination of his obduracy and refusal to compromise, Scots and Puritan extremism, and much else. Certainly, the vast majority of Englishmen were interested not in his death, but in his restoration, perhaps with strict limitations (many of which were proposed to be time-limited even by his opponents). But the tiny remnant left of Parliament, purged successively until only Puritan fanatics sat there, combined with the strength of will of Cromwell, meant that Charles was sentenced and executed. He died well, thus cementing his reputation and providing a rallying cry for future royalists. Even so, generations of historians have seen praise of Charles as a criticism of Parliamentary supremacy, and maintained a dim view of his reign.
What is there for us to learn? Charles’s biggest strategic error, as with so many Christian men of power who base their actions on what God wants, not on what they want, because they fear judgment for going too far, was the inability to punish his enemies as they needed to be punished. He shared much of what the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle said of King Stephen (reigned 1135–1154), “He was a mild man, and gentle and good, and did no justice.” In the same manner, he too often would not follow through; as Robert Tombs said in his "The English and Their History,” “He could be persuaded to plunge into reckless actions, but repeatedly drew back ‘amazed’ when things went wrong.” Under Charles, political and religious executions were zero, and he knuckled under to Parliament killing one of his chief ministers, the Earl of Strafford, through a bill of attainder coerced by mob violence, a decision he bitterly regretted to the end of his life. (And one with resonance today; “MPs who had abstained from the attainder bill against Strafford were publicly named and shamed, with news-sheets and pamphlets driving the verbal assaults on them as ‘enemies of their country.’ ”) Like Nicholas II Romanov, Charles might have done better mowing down his enemies at the right moment; instead, like Nicholas, driven in part by fear for his family, he took half measures such as, in person, trying and failing to seize his major opponents, thereby being publicly humiliated, and then absented himself from London at the wrong moment, letting his enemies consolidate their power.
Another fact to learn, or reinforce, is that the role of women in medieval and Renaissance England was much different than what “feminist” propaganda claims. It is not that de Lisle shoehorns women into her discussion, and she certainly does not offer history through a distorting and infantilizing lens. Rather, women simply had far more power in medieval and Renaissance Europe than we are often told. This was true at all levels of society and for centuries (during the Crusades, Muslims in the Holy Land were appalled at the power and liberties the women of the Franks had), but most visible in the upper classes (as with most historical matters). In fact, women get nearly as much print in this book as men, because they were nearly as relevant to the events at hand. One is Marie de’ Medici, mother of three kings and critical support at times for Charles (although de Lisle probably has a more favorable view of her than most historians). Another is Henrietta Maria, intimately involved in moral and logistical support for the war. Plus, of course, the Winter Queen, key player in European wars and mother of Prince Rupert. Also important were many non-regal women, too, such as Lucy Hay, Countess of Carlisle (whom de Lisle does frequently insist on calling “Lucy Carlisle,” even though that was not her family name, married or unmarried). Anyone who actually reads history realizes that the so-called patriarchy is a myth, although sadly this book, or any book about this era, probably gets a lot fewer readers than any given lying Twitter feed using the hashtags #toxicmasculinity and #smashthepatriarchy.
Finally, and turning aside from power politics, de Lisle points out a key different perspective of the time, and one that is better in some ways than what we have inherited from the radical Protestants with their atomized view of human responsibility. “The hierarchical society Charles imagined was underpinned by Christ’s example of self-sacrifice. Everyone owed service, both to those above them (commoner to noble, noble to king, king to God) and to those beneath them, to whom they owed a duty of care. This included protecting the weak, and promoting the talented and the brave.” This in contrast to a pure meritocracy, which suggests “that those who are not successful have less merit than those who excel.” True, the less successful may in fact have less ability, or they may be ridden with vice, but they do not necessarily have less merit, and they have no less human dignity. But this is forgotten today, by many conservatives as well as by our ruling classes, which is a major cause of the division of our society into a preening, globalized ruling class dwelling in glittering palaces on the coasts, and those increasingly left behind. And that division is, of course, a major cause of the political turmoil today—turmoil that, in many ways, resembles the ferment of 1640s England. You may draw your own conclusions.
Charles’s appellation of “White King” is obscure and long forgotten. De Lisle resurrects it, in order to “inspire curiosity,” for it is double-sided and shows the split of views about Charles. To some, he was a saintly martyr. White is the color of innocence, and also the color of the pall of snow that covered Charles’s body as he was carried to his grave in February of 1649. Thus, it was an emotional term used by his supporters after his death. But during his life a “White King” was also the subject of an ancient prophecy of an evil king to come, and therefore his enemies also called him by that name, casting him as a malevolent presence, the “traitor” and “murderer” of the subtitle.
The history here is straightforward, and begins with a brief account of the reign of Charles’s father, James I, who was also, and first, James VI of Scotland, and became King of England in 1603. James succeeded because Elizabeth I had no issue; he was the great-great-grandson of Henry VIII, and son of Mary, Queen of Scots, executed by Elizabeth in 1587. James died in 1625, generally regarded as not a bad king, who continued the middle way of the Church of England, rejecting Scots Presbyterianism and upholding episcopacy, but persecuting Catholics as Elizabeth had. He also oversaw the creation of the King James Bible, an example of his general focus on domestic concerns, avoiding foreign wars and, critically, not spending beyond his means. James lacked Elizabeth’s gift for public relations, although he was popular enough, and he communicated to his son (and to all his children—despite being rumored to be homosexual, he had eight children) a lofty view of the divine right of kings.
As with so many things from that earlier age, though, the divine right of kings is not understood today, being seen merely as, in de Lisle’s terms, “ridiculous and perverse,” and Charles’s reputation is tangled up with the confused view we have of that political theory. It probably has more to recommend it than meets the eye, and in the English context never meant the complete supremacy of the king, rather that the authority he had was not derived from contract or consent. It meant a strong king, one who could stand above and control faction, using his power to benefit everyone, while Parliament also maintained considerable power; supremacy was “the king in Parliament.” (As de Lisle notes, the English franchise was broad. “Every freeman with property valued at over £2 had the right to vote—as much as 40 per cent of the adult male population.”) Moreover, the king was “bound to make a reckoning to God for [his] subjects’ souls as well as their bodies,” an ancient principle among monarchs in the Christian West—for example, it was a major element of Charlemagne’s thought and actions. What is more, some elements of what we think of as divine right theory are purely fictional: for example, as de Lisle mentions, the idea that medieval English kings as children each had a whipping boy, a friend who was punished for the prince’s transgressions because the king could not be struck due to his exalted status, is a complete myth. The king got spanked like everyone else. But, like so many myths about medieval times, from prima nocte to the origin of “rule of thumb,” it’s an ideologically useful myth, in this case for those opposed to monarchy on principle and wedded to contract theories of political sovereignty. In reality, Charles did not think of himself, divine right or no, as an autocrat. He recognized the critical role Parliament had in government; his objection was that Parliament was trying to hobble him to a degree that made him unable to fulfil his own critical role. Given the other complexities of the age, this made conflict inevitable.
Unlike his father, Charles quickly became involved in European conflict, raging since the beginning of the Thirty Years War in 1618. (This was the original sin of his reign, since without war, the English crown didn’t need Parliament to vote it money; it received enough money from its own lands and traditional fee sources of income.) Much of Charles’s reign turned on ever-shifting alliances and deals with France and Spain, as well as, more distantly, various Central European states, all of whom were embroiled in their own wars, which had (but were not purely determined by) a religious element. (His elder sister Elizabeth married Frederick, Elector of the Palatine, a German territory; she was called the “Winter Queen” since the Protestant Frederick was kicked out of his lands by the Catholic Habsburgs after only a few months of actual rule.) From the perspective of England, these alliances turned largely on a combination of complicated religious alignments and other national priorities, such as trade and the balance of power.
Charles needed a suitable wife, and tried to but was unable to find an appropriate Spanish bride. That might not have been the best idea; the Spanish were on the wane, and anyhow demanded significant concessions to Catholicism. So quickly, in 1625 Charles turned to Spain’s enemy, France, and married Henrietta Maria, daughter of the assassinated French king Henri IV and Marie de Medici, the powerful mother of Louis XIII and sometime regent of France. As de Lisle is at pains to point out, for hundreds of years the Roman Catholic Henrietta Maria has been cast as a malevolent little simpleton. In de Lisle’s account, this is grossly unfair and merely more propaganda from the winners in the Civil War and their ideological descendants. She was little, true, but fierce and extremely competent, and a major asset to Charles. De Lisle, in fact, located a previously unknown cache of letters between the two, in the private archives of Belvoir Castle, and uses them to great effect to support her point, although I don’t know enough to have an opinion of my own. It didn’t help her popularity, however, that mostly England fought France and was allied with Spain, so between that and her religion, the queen was seen, even during her lifetime, by many as an alien and dangerous presence.
Royalists and Parliamentarians drifted to war, tossed about by a confusing brew of religious conflict, class conflict, ethnic conflict among the three kingdoms now under one ruler (England, Scotland, and Ireland), and much else. Even “Parliament” wasn’t really an entity for war purposes; many of those who served in the Commons as the war began joined up with Charles, and most of the Lords did as well. For a very long time, both in America and England, Parliament has been seen as the righteous party in the English Civil War, and Charles as a benighted and sinister enemy of liberty (although the Irish think otherwise, due to their ill treatment by the Protestants, as shown by the modern song, by the Pogues, with the refrain “God rot you Oliver Cromwell, who raped our motherland”). Again, this is history as written by the victors, through the prism of Enlightenment dogma, and ignores that much of Parliament, and most of England, was strongly opposed to a large portion of the actions taken in Parliament’s name during the war, and even more to the execution of Charles. And none of this can be comprehended without the backdrop of a complex set of Protestant groups (English Catholics as such played almost no role in the Civil War): Covenanters, Presbyterians, Arminians, and so forth, along with, as the war played out, increasingly radical sects such as the Levellers, Diggers, and Fifth Monarchy Men (the latter not mentioned by de Lisle, but they fascinate me), all in a giant kaleidoscope, collectively complicated matters in a way new in English history.
One especially interesting fact about the war is that it was conducted in parallel in the media. It was the first English war where propaganda in the form of pamphlets and rapidly churned out books made a major difference in public opinion. Some of this seems silly to us but was important at the time—for example, parliamentarians accused Prince Rupert of the Rhine, Charles’s nephew and an essential Royalist general, of keeping a poodle that was a satanic familiar; Charles’s supporters wrote parody responses, like a seventeenth-century version of the Onion. More seriously, both sides wrote lengthy justifications for their positions, including Charles’s last work, the Eikon Basilike, posthumously published, which sold like hotcakes, undermining Cromwell’s Protectorate and paving the way for the Restoration.
After several years of back-and-forth warfare, in which a greater percentage of Englishmen died than in World War I (although brutality was far less than in Continental wars), with Parliamentary progress made possible only by cooperating with invasions by the radical Scots Covenanters, and the rise of Oliver Cromwell, Charles was defeated. Even though he had lost, Charles’s execution was far from inevitable. English kings had more than once been murdered after defeat, but to execute a king after legal process was largely inconceivable. His death resulted from a combination of his obduracy and refusal to compromise, Scots and Puritan extremism, and much else. Certainly, the vast majority of Englishmen were interested not in his death, but in his restoration, perhaps with strict limitations (many of which were proposed to be time-limited even by his opponents). But the tiny remnant left of Parliament, purged successively until only Puritan fanatics sat there, combined with the strength of will of Cromwell, meant that Charles was sentenced and executed. He died well, thus cementing his reputation and providing a rallying cry for future royalists. Even so, generations of historians have seen praise of Charles as a criticism of Parliamentary supremacy, and maintained a dim view of his reign.
What is there for us to learn? Charles’s biggest strategic error, as with so many Christian men of power who base their actions on what God wants, not on what they want, because they fear judgment for going too far, was the inability to punish his enemies as they needed to be punished. He shared much of what the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle said of King Stephen (reigned 1135–1154), “He was a mild man, and gentle and good, and did no justice.” In the same manner, he too often would not follow through; as Robert Tombs said in his "The English and Their History,” “He could be persuaded to plunge into reckless actions, but repeatedly drew back ‘amazed’ when things went wrong.” Under Charles, political and religious executions were zero, and he knuckled under to Parliament killing one of his chief ministers, the Earl of Strafford, through a bill of attainder coerced by mob violence, a decision he bitterly regretted to the end of his life. (And one with resonance today; “MPs who had abstained from the attainder bill against Strafford were publicly named and shamed, with news-sheets and pamphlets driving the verbal assaults on them as ‘enemies of their country.’ ”) Like Nicholas II Romanov, Charles might have done better mowing down his enemies at the right moment; instead, like Nicholas, driven in part by fear for his family, he took half measures such as, in person, trying and failing to seize his major opponents, thereby being publicly humiliated, and then absented himself from London at the wrong moment, letting his enemies consolidate their power.
Another fact to learn, or reinforce, is that the role of women in medieval and Renaissance England was much different than what “feminist” propaganda claims. It is not that de Lisle shoehorns women into her discussion, and she certainly does not offer history through a distorting and infantilizing lens. Rather, women simply had far more power in medieval and Renaissance Europe than we are often told. This was true at all levels of society and for centuries (during the Crusades, Muslims in the Holy Land were appalled at the power and liberties the women of the Franks had), but most visible in the upper classes (as with most historical matters). In fact, women get nearly as much print in this book as men, because they were nearly as relevant to the events at hand. One is Marie de’ Medici, mother of three kings and critical support at times for Charles (although de Lisle probably has a more favorable view of her than most historians). Another is Henrietta Maria, intimately involved in moral and logistical support for the war. Plus, of course, the Winter Queen, key player in European wars and mother of Prince Rupert. Also important were many non-regal women, too, such as Lucy Hay, Countess of Carlisle (whom de Lisle does frequently insist on calling “Lucy Carlisle,” even though that was not her family name, married or unmarried). Anyone who actually reads history realizes that the so-called patriarchy is a myth, although sadly this book, or any book about this era, probably gets a lot fewer readers than any given lying Twitter feed using the hashtags #toxicmasculinity and #smashthepatriarchy.
Finally, and turning aside from power politics, de Lisle points out a key different perspective of the time, and one that is better in some ways than what we have inherited from the radical Protestants with their atomized view of human responsibility. “The hierarchical society Charles imagined was underpinned by Christ’s example of self-sacrifice. Everyone owed service, both to those above them (commoner to noble, noble to king, king to God) and to those beneath them, to whom they owed a duty of care. This included protecting the weak, and promoting the talented and the brave.” This in contrast to a pure meritocracy, which suggests “that those who are not successful have less merit than those who excel.” True, the less successful may in fact have less ability, or they may be ridden with vice, but they do not necessarily have less merit, and they have no less human dignity. But this is forgotten today, by many conservatives as well as by our ruling classes, which is a major cause of the division of our society into a preening, globalized ruling class dwelling in glittering palaces on the coasts, and those increasingly left behind. And that division is, of course, a major cause of the political turmoil today—turmoil that, in many ways, resembles the ferment of 1640s England. You may draw your own conclusions.
May 18, 2018
This is the definitive book about Charles I. It is beautifully written, well researched and referenced with thought provoking interpretations of the personality of the king. Absolutely brilliant. I am re-reading it straight away as it was so awesome. I would love Leanda de Lisle to now turn her historical talents to a book about Henrietta Maria. Fingers crossed??
Read
February 3, 2020A fascinating, compulsive story that also does a wonderful job of really humanizing both sides of the UK's Civil War. The only time I slowed down in my reading came because I knew what was coming for many of these characters - on both sides - and they felt so real to me by then that I felt really depressed about the whole thing! But then I went back to the book anyway, because it's wonderful and I couldn't stay away. Leanda De Lisle is my favorite working historian, and at this point, I'll read anything she chooses to write about!
February 13, 2020
Charles I, who ruled Britain from 1625 until his execution on 30 January 1649 at the end of the Civil War, has generally been portrayed as a martyr, monster or moron. The civil war he waged against his enemies in Parliament resulted in catastrophic bloodshed, arguably more in terms of percentage of the population than the First World War. For this, Charles earned the damning nickname the "Man of Blood". Even for those inclined to see idiocy rather than malice, Charles was a weak king whose misrule resulted in 11 years of republican rule until the monarchy returned under his more pragmatic son Charles II.
However, to the royalist faithful, Charles I was a saintly victim of his opponents: deranged, fire-breathing, evangelical fundamentalists who drove two of the king's advisers up the steps of the scaffold, humiliated the Crown beyond the point of endurance, tipped the nation into war and then organised Charles's execution, even when the majority of the population was opposed to it. Leanda de Lisle's superb new biography of Charles I is more sympathetic than critical. There is no monster here, only a little bit of the moron and plenty of martyrdom.
Opening with the legend that snow fell to cover Charles's coffin on the day of his funeral, De Lisle moves backwards to present a surprisingly sympathetic character.
His determined struggle against his childhood disabilities, which included a speech impediment and physical weaknesses, is moving and even inspirational, as are De Lisle's accounts of his diligence, his chivalry and his dignity as his regime unravelled. De Lisle excels at providing memorable descriptions of those who knew Charles. His flamboyantly incompetent confidant, the Duke of Buckingham, was described by one contemporary as "the best-looking and best-built man in the world" and he had almost certainly been the lover of Charles's late father King James I (who commissioned the King James translation of the Bible), although how much Charles knew about the extent of their intimacy is debatable.
Charles's own sexuality was avowedly heterosexual and it is his wife, French princess Henrietta Maria, who emerges from "White King" as one of its true heroes. She was demonised by anti-monarchists in the 1600s as a meddling, extravagant, foreign shrew but De Lisle uses letters, which she uncovered in the archives of the current Duke and Duchess of Rutland, to show Charles's queen as an elegant and heroically loyal woman. When she was forced to leave her husband to support the royalist cause in exile, De Lisle quotes a moving eyewitness account describing the queen as "the most woeful spectacle my eyes ever yet beheld".
"White King" is an impeccably researched and thought-provoking biography which reads as well as a fine novel. Charles I emerges from its pages as "courageous, resilient and increasingly hard-nosed", personally heroic but still ultimately a political failure. It also revives one of this country's greatest stories: a blinkered king, a warrior queen, a war that turned brother against brother and scandals caused by money, sex, espionage and power, woven together in the life of this extraordinary but flawed king.
However, to the royalist faithful, Charles I was a saintly victim of his opponents: deranged, fire-breathing, evangelical fundamentalists who drove two of the king's advisers up the steps of the scaffold, humiliated the Crown beyond the point of endurance, tipped the nation into war and then organised Charles's execution, even when the majority of the population was opposed to it. Leanda de Lisle's superb new biography of Charles I is more sympathetic than critical. There is no monster here, only a little bit of the moron and plenty of martyrdom.
Opening with the legend that snow fell to cover Charles's coffin on the day of his funeral, De Lisle moves backwards to present a surprisingly sympathetic character.
His determined struggle against his childhood disabilities, which included a speech impediment and physical weaknesses, is moving and even inspirational, as are De Lisle's accounts of his diligence, his chivalry and his dignity as his regime unravelled. De Lisle excels at providing memorable descriptions of those who knew Charles. His flamboyantly incompetent confidant, the Duke of Buckingham, was described by one contemporary as "the best-looking and best-built man in the world" and he had almost certainly been the lover of Charles's late father King James I (who commissioned the King James translation of the Bible), although how much Charles knew about the extent of their intimacy is debatable.
Charles's own sexuality was avowedly heterosexual and it is his wife, French princess Henrietta Maria, who emerges from "White King" as one of its true heroes. She was demonised by anti-monarchists in the 1600s as a meddling, extravagant, foreign shrew but De Lisle uses letters, which she uncovered in the archives of the current Duke and Duchess of Rutland, to show Charles's queen as an elegant and heroically loyal woman. When she was forced to leave her husband to support the royalist cause in exile, De Lisle quotes a moving eyewitness account describing the queen as "the most woeful spectacle my eyes ever yet beheld".
"White King" is an impeccably researched and thought-provoking biography which reads as well as a fine novel. Charles I emerges from its pages as "courageous, resilient and increasingly hard-nosed", personally heroic but still ultimately a political failure. It also revives one of this country's greatest stories: a blinkered king, a warrior queen, a war that turned brother against brother and scandals caused by money, sex, espionage and power, woven together in the life of this extraordinary but flawed king.
February 3, 2020
I've liked the historical figure of Charles I ever since i read Myself, My Enemy by Jean Plaidy years back, a fictionalized account of the life of his wife and their marriage.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8...
King Charles I of England, Scotland, and Ireland came from a noted background. His father was
James I who sponsored the Bible to be translated into English, and his grandmother was Mary, Queen of Scots, who like her grandson was executed.
I admire Charles I because he was a man of high principles which, despite some flaws, he very much lived up to what he held dear. He was courageous, tolerant, a loving and devoted husband and parent and lover of art. What cut him down in the end was that England was starting to change during his time. He very much believed in the old chivalric order and the divine right of kings and did not want to share power with parliament. Also the fact that his wife, Henrietta Maria was French and Catholic didn't help either. Radical Protestants such as the Puritans remained always on their guard with fears and rumors that because the king was weak, he was being influenced by his wife to drive the nation to "popery" which was not the case. All Charles wanted was to keep various rites of the church in England. How his wife worshiped was a private affair.
He truly underestimated his enemies and just wasn't ruthless enough to keep them in check. He eventually found himself accused and on trial as Charles Stuart, 'a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and a public and implacable enemy of the Commonwealth of England.' He never thought it would ever come to this.
I enjoyed this book which reading length is actually only 296 pages since at the end there are copious notes and an index. Because I sometimes felt the book didn't talk enough about King Charles at times, I give this book 4 stars. Otherwise, I enjoyed Leanda de Lisle's flowery and elegant writing style.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8...
King Charles I of England, Scotland, and Ireland came from a noted background. His father was
James I who sponsored the Bible to be translated into English, and his grandmother was Mary, Queen of Scots, who like her grandson was executed.
I admire Charles I because he was a man of high principles which, despite some flaws, he very much lived up to what he held dear. He was courageous, tolerant, a loving and devoted husband and parent and lover of art. What cut him down in the end was that England was starting to change during his time. He very much believed in the old chivalric order and the divine right of kings and did not want to share power with parliament. Also the fact that his wife, Henrietta Maria was French and Catholic didn't help either. Radical Protestants such as the Puritans remained always on their guard with fears and rumors that because the king was weak, he was being influenced by his wife to drive the nation to "popery" which was not the case. All Charles wanted was to keep various rites of the church in England. How his wife worshiped was a private affair.
He truly underestimated his enemies and just wasn't ruthless enough to keep them in check. He eventually found himself accused and on trial as Charles Stuart, 'a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and a public and implacable enemy of the Commonwealth of England.' He never thought it would ever come to this.
I enjoyed this book which reading length is actually only 296 pages since at the end there are copious notes and an index. Because I sometimes felt the book didn't talk enough about King Charles at times, I give this book 4 stars. Otherwise, I enjoyed Leanda de Lisle's flowery and elegant writing style.
August 18, 2021
Thus far, my knowledge of British history seems to end with the death of Queen Elizabeth I, but This author's work is helping me remedy that regrettable situation. I'm not surprised this book one an award— it is remarkably readable for a scholarly history. Histories are often written in a dense style, and while they are interesting and informative they can be a struggle to work through. This feels more like reading a piece of longform narrative journalism then a hard-core history, yet it has all the sources a reader looks for in such a book.
August 18, 2025
I'd have given it 4 stars except that the civil war part bored me to death. I'm still undecided whether it's me or the writing - I'd have to read a different book on the subject and see how it fares.
Although it's a book on Charles, I got very much inspired to read more about his wife, Henrietta Maria. It's the french queens (technically a french queen of england in this case), I'm telling ya. Something about them that makes one go like mmhehe go off, sis, be a queen of my heart! Women, eh.
Although it's a book on Charles, I got very much inspired to read more about his wife, Henrietta Maria. It's the french queens (technically a french queen of england in this case), I'm telling ya. Something about them that makes one go like mmhehe go off, sis, be a queen of my heart! Women, eh.
January 8, 2018
I clearly remember when I was studying my A-Levels, sitting in my history lesson and learning about Charles I and the Divine Right of Kings. I remember studying the causes of the English Civil War and thinking "this has to be the most boring part of English history I have ever had the misfortune of studying". Little did I know that when I moved on to University I would end up falling in love with the English Civil War and specialising in the battlefield archaeology of the Battle of Cheriton for my dissertation. I'm not sure what it was that suddenly changed my mind, only that all of a sudden I realised that there was so much more to it than the Divine Right of Kings and ship money. I began to find the whole era incredibly romantic. I became embroiled in the history of the battles. I even, for my sins, joined the Sealed Knot as a musketeer in the Royalist Henry Tilliers Regiment of Foote. A life long love had been sparked and I devoured anything I could get my hands on about those torrid years of war. In the past few years that love has taken a bit of a back seat to the Italian Renaissance, but it's always been there niggling in the back of my mind, and when I heard that Leande de Lisle was working on a biography of Charles I I knew I had to read it.
De Lisle's "The White King" was one of my Christmas gifts and I got stuck into reading it as soon as I possibly could. Now, I don't want to sound cliched, but from the moment I opened it I literally could not put it down. And it was the first time that any biography on Charles I had gripped me in such a way. I've read a lot on the ill-fated King and I will be the first to admit that a lot of it is incredibly heavy going, dry reading. In "The White King", de Lisle does the near impossible - she makes the history of Charles Stuart accessible. She makes it exciting. She goes beyond the whole 'these were the mistakes Charles made and they were the only causes of the war'. It truly makes a refreshing change in pace.
This book is a balanced view of the man that many in England saw as a tyrant and a traitor. Not only that but de Lisle gives a sympathetic view of the King and his beliefs. She weighs the causes of the War up and comes to the conclusion that although Charles did make mistakes, he wasn't the only cause of a war that literally split England right down the middle. We see a man who loved his family and who believed that what he was doing was right. We see him fighting for what he believed in and at the same time we see parliament doing the exact same thing - they believed that what they were doing was for the good of the country, as did Charles.
Charles I wasn't all black and white. His grey areas proved to be his ultimate downfall - despite being brave, he believed so wholeheartedly in his divine right that it proved to be his end. And what a sad end it was. I have never read a better account of King Charles I's trial and execution, nor have I been practically moved to tears when reading about his incredibly brave end.
This wonderful biography is truly a pioneering work in the history of the Seventeenth Century and I would even go so far as to say that this book should be considered the Bible on the history of Charles I. Whilst it tells his story, it also offers insights into lesser known parts of his history - including a short affair towards the end of his life as well as offering up previously unknown correspondence between him and his wife. Reading this book has rekindled my love of the English Civil War and made me want to pick up my own work on it again.
An excellent biography and highly recommended to anyone with an interest in the Caroline Court.
De Lisle's "The White King" was one of my Christmas gifts and I got stuck into reading it as soon as I possibly could. Now, I don't want to sound cliched, but from the moment I opened it I literally could not put it down. And it was the first time that any biography on Charles I had gripped me in such a way. I've read a lot on the ill-fated King and I will be the first to admit that a lot of it is incredibly heavy going, dry reading. In "The White King", de Lisle does the near impossible - she makes the history of Charles Stuart accessible. She makes it exciting. She goes beyond the whole 'these were the mistakes Charles made and they were the only causes of the war'. It truly makes a refreshing change in pace.
This book is a balanced view of the man that many in England saw as a tyrant and a traitor. Not only that but de Lisle gives a sympathetic view of the King and his beliefs. She weighs the causes of the War up and comes to the conclusion that although Charles did make mistakes, he wasn't the only cause of a war that literally split England right down the middle. We see a man who loved his family and who believed that what he was doing was right. We see him fighting for what he believed in and at the same time we see parliament doing the exact same thing - they believed that what they were doing was for the good of the country, as did Charles.
Charles I wasn't all black and white. His grey areas proved to be his ultimate downfall - despite being brave, he believed so wholeheartedly in his divine right that it proved to be his end. And what a sad end it was. I have never read a better account of King Charles I's trial and execution, nor have I been practically moved to tears when reading about his incredibly brave end.
This wonderful biography is truly a pioneering work in the history of the Seventeenth Century and I would even go so far as to say that this book should be considered the Bible on the history of Charles I. Whilst it tells his story, it also offers insights into lesser known parts of his history - including a short affair towards the end of his life as well as offering up previously unknown correspondence between him and his wife. Reading this book has rekindled my love of the English Civil War and made me want to pick up my own work on it again.
An excellent biography and highly recommended to anyone with an interest in the Caroline Court.
November 11, 2025
2.5 ⭐️
October 9, 2021
Entertaining biography, paints Charles I in a fair light, by no means blind to his shortcomings but also not overly harsh.
July 18, 2023
Knowing little British history and having recently visited England and Scotland, I chose this book to gain a basic understanding of Charles I and his downfall. Way more to the story than I expected. I’m still grappling with the complex reasons and relationships that led to his execution. Yet throughout the book you gain a sense of a man who believed he had a divine right and responsibility to God (to preserve the Church of England and its structure) and also a loving and devoted husband, father, and friend.
This book explains the complex religious beliefs, conflicts, and goals of all parties and one rather simple objective of nearly everyone: power and influence.
Great book!
This book explains the complex religious beliefs, conflicts, and goals of all parties and one rather simple objective of nearly everyone: power and influence.
Great book!
November 27, 2018
Hmmm - as someone who doesn’t know the history I was hoping for a lucid analysis of the causes of the English Civil War. This book does not deliver that, but does argue that the Puritans in Parliament were spoiling for a fight and Charles’ room for manoeuvre was limited. The author hits her stride when the war actually starts and then it becomes an exciting narrative of battles, treachery, desperate dashes and brilliant escapes all across the country. De Lisle makes quite a case for Henrietta Maria being a feisty Queen who Charles should have listened to more. There is also an emphasis on the ‘real life’ inspiration for Dumas’ Milady De Winter, even if due to the Duke of Buckingham’s homosexuality an affair between the duke and Anne of Austria was unlikely.
I thought De Lisle’s unpicking of the complex politics of the time was very good in her book on James I, so I was hoping for similar here. She is very clearly a Royalist, with every Parliamentarian atrocity explored at gory length and Royalist atrocities largely passed over. Charles comes out of his trial very well, and De Lisle makes clear the trial was completely illegal.
Overall, the book adds little to the classic schoolboy summation that the Roundheads were “right but repulsive” and the Cavaliers “wrong but Romantic”.
I thought De Lisle’s unpicking of the complex politics of the time was very good in her book on James I, so I was hoping for similar here. She is very clearly a Royalist, with every Parliamentarian atrocity explored at gory length and Royalist atrocities largely passed over. Charles comes out of his trial very well, and De Lisle makes clear the trial was completely illegal.
Overall, the book adds little to the classic schoolboy summation that the Roundheads were “right but repulsive” and the Cavaliers “wrong but Romantic”.
December 6, 2017
The White King accomplishes much of what makes de Lisle a great historical writer: the historical figures come alive as characters under her pen, and the history is meticulously researched and presented in a wealth of detail.
Unfortunately, that last point is also what drags the book down. The supremely bloated middle section goes on for pages and pages about the civil war – every battle, with numbers of soldiers and horses and munitions; all the casualties; the movements of everyone around the country; the perpetually shifting factions on both sides. At first, this level of detail is cool; when covering a war that last a decade, however, it becomes exhausting. Eventually my eyes glazed over from the repetitiveness; I may have skimmed a few pages here and there.
The book’s strength is when it focuses on Charles and his family, bringing them to life. If one can slog through (or skim through) all the battles, it’s still a fascinating biography.
Unfortunately, that last point is also what drags the book down. The supremely bloated middle section goes on for pages and pages about the civil war – every battle, with numbers of soldiers and horses and munitions; all the casualties; the movements of everyone around the country; the perpetually shifting factions on both sides. At first, this level of detail is cool; when covering a war that last a decade, however, it becomes exhausting. Eventually my eyes glazed over from the repetitiveness; I may have skimmed a few pages here and there.
The book’s strength is when it focuses on Charles and his family, bringing them to life. If one can slog through (or skim through) all the battles, it’s still a fascinating biography.
October 27, 2018
Before this book all I knew about Charles Ist was from a history of England that he was a tyrant and murderer and Oliver Cromwell together with Parliament had his head chopped off. From this quite large and detailed book I learned that he was not a tyrant beyond what the average king of England ruled as, and he was not a murderer beyond having his troops contest Cromwell's troops in the civil wars.
The book is only two stars for me because Charles was simply not an interesting ruler and the book consequently was primarily uninteresting details giving me 3 times the knowledge of this period of history that I wished for.
The book is only two stars for me because Charles was simply not an interesting ruler and the book consequently was primarily uninteresting details giving me 3 times the knowledge of this period of history that I wished for.
February 25, 2018
Much of this book is densely packed with historical facts. This can detract from its narrative quality, especially for a general reader (such as myself!) without any detailed historical knowledge of the period it covers. Nevertheless, persistence pays off. An in depth picture eventually emerges of Charles I as a courageous but very human leader. The book also delivers a thought-provoking portrayal of Charles' parliamentary opponents whose harsh puritan ideology has echoes in some of the more divisive elements in politics of today.
November 14, 2017
This was an enjoyable and captivating read of a man historians often depict incorrectly. While you'll get distracted by details the casual writing style make it a read that anyone can tackle.
March 19, 2018
Biography of Charles I. I found this fascinating because I studied this period for A Level history. De Lisle writes very well but the immense amount of detail can be a little overwhelming at times.
September 23, 2022
This is the first book I read that was sympathetic to King Charles I and Queen Henrietta Maria. And was it ever! I’m really just beginning my reading about this period, but I’ve gotten enough under my belt to feel that much has been left out in order to paint them so favorably. The queen’s role during the troubles was supportive and behind-the-scenes; I saw no real attempts to direct his decisions, or pour foolish advice into his ears as she is often depicted. And it seemed to me that Charles was very much on the defensive here; I didn’t get a feel for why the Commons were after him.
Although the king had announced in York, ‘I have of myself resolved to call a parliament,’ the truth was he had had little choice. What would become known as the Long Parliament was due to open on Tuesday 3 November 1640. Warwick gave friends the news, crowing that ‘the Game was well begin!’ The opposition’s next move in their power play was to provoke fears of an internal Catholic threat. This would encourage MPs to help them take power from the king.
Religion was a big factor—I get that. Having a Catholic queen didn’t help a bit. I see there was a big struggle between Puritans and Presbyterians and the Church of England, as best as I can tell. Frankly, I had a hard time following the thread. But I believe the king was trying to steer a middle course and no one was happy. The king attempted to get help from the Scots and later from the Irish, but once Cromwell entered the picture (about halfway through), the king was pretty much outmaneuvered. I was surprised that Cromwell had such a small role in this book. Anyway, the book was very readable, but I did come out of it feeling under-informed. There are 75 pages of notes in the back, and I have a feeling that much of that material might have been put to better use in the text itself, or at least as footnotes at the bottom of the pages. It was too much to keep flipping back and forth. I did feel very sorry for Charles by the end, but I really didn’t understand why he was so widely detested.
Although the king had announced in York, ‘I have of myself resolved to call a parliament,’ the truth was he had had little choice. What would become known as the Long Parliament was due to open on Tuesday 3 November 1640. Warwick gave friends the news, crowing that ‘the Game was well begin!’ The opposition’s next move in their power play was to provoke fears of an internal Catholic threat. This would encourage MPs to help them take power from the king.
Religion was a big factor—I get that. Having a Catholic queen didn’t help a bit. I see there was a big struggle between Puritans and Presbyterians and the Church of England, as best as I can tell. Frankly, I had a hard time following the thread. But I believe the king was trying to steer a middle course and no one was happy. The king attempted to get help from the Scots and later from the Irish, but once Cromwell entered the picture (about halfway through), the king was pretty much outmaneuvered. I was surprised that Cromwell had such a small role in this book. Anyway, the book was very readable, but I did come out of it feeling under-informed. There are 75 pages of notes in the back, and I have a feeling that much of that material might have been put to better use in the text itself, or at least as footnotes at the bottom of the pages. It was too much to keep flipping back and forth. I did feel very sorry for Charles by the end, but I really didn’t understand why he was so widely detested.
February 3, 2022
What has to be the definitive biography of Charles I and a good introduction to the civil war years. We did cover the civil war briefly at school in Ireland but I don't know a great deal about it. Along with chronicling the life of King Charles I, we get a solid cultural, political, religious and social overview of England before the war kicked off.
The author is clearly sympathetic to her subject and much moreso to his wife, Henrietta Maria of the French House of Bourbon. If the reader isn't immediately familiar with pre-Stuart England, this is briefly expounded upon by de Lisle as well as key concepts along with the 1618-1648 thirty years war that ravaged Europe and provided the backdrop to the Calvinist paranoia that rocked England and without which, Charles may well have reigned in peace.
We see a man who is principled, loving, courageous, loyal, conscientious but also indecisive, rigid and incapable of ruthlessness. I'd thought him weak prior to reading this but now his reign seems all the more tragic. Highly recommended.
The author is clearly sympathetic to her subject and much moreso to his wife, Henrietta Maria of the French House of Bourbon. If the reader isn't immediately familiar with pre-Stuart England, this is briefly expounded upon by de Lisle as well as key concepts along with the 1618-1648 thirty years war that ravaged Europe and provided the backdrop to the Calvinist paranoia that rocked England and without which, Charles may well have reigned in peace.
We see a man who is principled, loving, courageous, loyal, conscientious but also indecisive, rigid and incapable of ruthlessness. I'd thought him weak prior to reading this but now his reign seems all the more tragic. Highly recommended.
March 10, 2025
Rev. 3/10/25, after starting a biography of Oliver Cromwell: naked Royalist propaganda. Sume cum grano.
Mostly good, though peppered throughout with some very strange claims. For example, De Lisle claims, in the beginning of the book, that Protestant Resistance Theory was responsible for aggressive revolutions in several parts of Europe. I believe this was an attempt to tie a connection between theology and the English Civil War, but it’s weak tea.
Likewise, at the end of the book, she says that Charles I was a great husband, right after narrating his relationship with his mistress at the end of his life. Said relationship is excused on the grounds that he hadn’t seen his wife in four years and really, really wanted to have sex. For cynical readers, it’s an eye-roll moment.
This book sticks very closely to documentary evidence and the actions and lives of high-court politicians. While this helps one to understand the causes of the Civil War, it makes for lots of context-less actions. On the other hand, it gives one an excellent window into the minds of the chief actors. De Lisle also presents — and resoundingly proves — a case that Henrietta Maria played a critical role both in Charles’s reign and the war.
Mostly good, though peppered throughout with some very strange claims. For example, De Lisle claims, in the beginning of the book, that Protestant Resistance Theory was responsible for aggressive revolutions in several parts of Europe. I believe this was an attempt to tie a connection between theology and the English Civil War, but it’s weak tea.
Likewise, at the end of the book, she says that Charles I was a great husband, right after narrating his relationship with his mistress at the end of his life. Said relationship is excused on the grounds that he hadn’t seen his wife in four years and really, really wanted to have sex. For cynical readers, it’s an eye-roll moment.
This book sticks very closely to documentary evidence and the actions and lives of high-court politicians. While this helps one to understand the causes of the Civil War, it makes for lots of context-less actions. On the other hand, it gives one an excellent window into the minds of the chief actors. De Lisle also presents — and resoundingly proves — a case that Henrietta Maria played a critical role both in Charles’s reign and the war.
December 1, 2024
This was a good narrative largely focusing on the life of Charles I, one of those infamous kings whose story is known more by reputation than by real historical fact.
The author does much to rehabilitate Charles and recast him as largely being the victim of forces at work around him, whilst not letting him off the hook for the times he exacerbated his own problems. What comes through is the portrait of a family man, and the focus on those around him, such as his children and his wife, does much to challenge many stereotypes surrounding the king.
If I had a criticism, it might be that at times the author felt as though she couldn’t decide whether to focus on a biography of Charles or an account of the civil war, even if those passages were necessary context. Overall a strong biography which did much to challenge the image of Charles the tyrant.
The author does much to rehabilitate Charles and recast him as largely being the victim of forces at work around him, whilst not letting him off the hook for the times he exacerbated his own problems. What comes through is the portrait of a family man, and the focus on those around him, such as his children and his wife, does much to challenge many stereotypes surrounding the king.
If I had a criticism, it might be that at times the author felt as though she couldn’t decide whether to focus on a biography of Charles or an account of the civil war, even if those passages were necessary context. Overall a strong biography which did much to challenge the image of Charles the tyrant.
December 24, 2020
Between the events of the Mayflower and the early 1700's, I have found I am lacking a good chunk of world history. Leanda de Lisle's biography on King Charles I helped me to start filling in the blanks. I thought this to be a fair and thorough portrait of a King I previously knew nothing about outside of his having been beheaded.
August 6, 2021
叙事流畅，可读性很高。
查理一世作为本书的传主，作者对之报以极大的欣赏和同情，本也无可厚非。在这个过程里，她塑造了一个与我既往印象大相径庭的查理一世的形象。这既是本书的价值，但或许也是它的一丝疑点。因为在大部分的时间里，作者给我的感觉，与其说是一个充满激情的传记作者，不如说更像是一个无比坚定的保王党。过于强烈的立场倾向，免不了使本书失去了些许该有的深度。而对比之前读的《BBC苏格兰史》，两者对于查理一世的不同评价，也颇可玩味。
然而，作者身为女性，对于男性主导的话语体系里对于王后身份的偏见的辩解、政治婚姻里王室女性命运的身不由己、战争中针对不分阶层的女性的暴行、查理一世和亨利埃塔·玛丽亚之间的情感互动，以及查理一世在家庭生活中所展现出来的异常温情的一面，都不吝笔墨，使得历史呈现出了一种别样的质感。从这个意义上说，这个世界也确实需要更多的女性历史学者来讲述她们眼中的种种故事。
查理一世作为本书的传主，作者对之报以极大的欣赏和同情，本也无可厚非。在这个过程里，她塑造了一个与我既往印象大相径庭的查理一世的形象。这既是本书的价值，但或许也是它的一丝疑点。因为在大部分的时间里，作者给我的感觉，与其说是一个充满激情的传记作者，不如说更像是一个无比坚定的保王党。过于强烈的立场倾向，免不了使本书失去了些许该有的深度。而对比之前读的《BBC苏格兰史》，两者对于查理一世的不同评价，也颇可玩味。
然而，作者身为女性，对于男性主导的话语体系里对于王后身份的偏见的辩解、政治婚姻里王室女性命运的身不由己、战争中针对不分阶层的女性的暴行、查理一世和亨利埃塔·玛丽亚之间的情感互动，以及查理一世在家庭生活中所展现出来的异常温情的一面，都不吝笔墨，使得历史呈现出了一种别样的质感。从这个意义上说，这个世界也确实需要更多的女性历史学者来讲述她们眼中的种种故事。
November 8, 2019
An unashamedly biased account of the road to the civil wars and the wars themselves from the perspective of Charles 1 who was only trying to do his best, and to protect the role of bishops etc (though rather inconveniently for this analysis Charles was happy to at least negotiate with Presbyterian Scots when he thought they might back him….).
However it is always good to read a well written book such as this that does it best to back to different horse to the one you do, but sorry if anything this book simply made me even more supportive of Parliament during the civil wars.
However it is always good to read a well written book such as this that does it best to back to different horse to the one you do, but sorry if anything this book simply made me even more supportive of Parliament during the civil wars.
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