On the face of it, Devil-Land. England Under Siege 1588-1688 is a slightly odd historical study in that, on the face of it, it is limited to a random hundred-year period in England, with diversions into Ireland and Scotland. However, when one ponders for a moment, and on the evidence of Clare Jackson’s book, the fact is that this particular century includes the latter half of Elizabeth I’s reign; the execution of Mary Queen of Scots; the arrival of the Stuarts with James I; the Gunpowder Plot; the accession of Charles I and his execution; the Scots Covenanters; the Civil War; Cromwell and the Protectorate; Cromwell and Ireland, and Drogheda; the Restoration and Charles II; the Great Fire of London; James II; the “Great Revolution” and William III; William and the Treaty of Limerick; Jacobitism and a variety of other matters.
In amongst all that, of course, were the labyrinthine intrigues, alliances, treaties, wars, and occasional peace, in relations between the various powers of Europe. It was a busy century and certainly deserves a composite study. And Jackson’s superbly thorough study does it justice.
My other opening thought, though, relates more generally to the human race and our study of history. For many years, the comment has been floating about that traditional history has focused too much on the kings, queens and aristocrats, overlooking the lives of the common people. I have ignored these complaints since the reality is that there is obviously far more documentation related to the former, and their actions and words have had an impact on vast numbers of people, whereas the same can very rarely be said about the underling classes.
I still adhere to that view. However, I must confess that my abiding conclusion from this history, even though it was not particularly pointed out by Clare Jackson, was of repugnance for the way the powerful within this hundred years carried on their luxurious, privileged, self-centred lives with little cognisance of the welfare of anyone else. When the lower classes were considered, it was in a context of those in power either planning how to deploy them for their own purposes, or knowing, omnisciently, what was good for them.
This is graphically demonstrated in the chapter covering 1678-1683, where the following information is provided.
Charles had already been alerted to the ambassador’s questionable loyalty by his former mistress Barbara Villiers, countess of Castlemaine, whose recent affair with Montague had soured after the ambassador had also seduced Castlemaine’s teenage daughter by the king, Anne, countess of Sussex.
It was, moreover, not only Charles and his ministers who were in receipt of covert foreign subsidies as Montague had himself been promised a French pension if he successfully engineered the anti-French Danby’s removal as Lord Treasurer.
The French government sanctioned subsidies to Charles’s court while simultaneously bribing republican factions in both London and Amsterdam, that sought to curb royal power of either Stuart or Orange hue.
That sums up quite helpfully the level of corruption and hypocrisy which seems to have been endemic in this group of people who believed their god had specially selected them to control the nation – unless, of course the opportunity arose to nudge someone else out of the way and move higher up the tree.
And, for the main players, we should remember Elizabeth I’s being bullied into pronouncing the death sentence on Mary Queen of Scots, then trying to bully Mary’s keeper into carrying out an extra-judicial killing, then being paralysed by the memory of it all; or there is James VI of Scotland and his reluctance to support his mother too much lest he jeopardise his chances of becoming James I of England. Or there was his, and all the Stuarts’, obfuscating over Catholicism; there were the O’Neills of Tyrone who were either friends or enemies of England according to what the arrangement would do for the family; we recall Charles I’s disastrous indulgence of his favourite, Buckingham; or the whole Stuart obsession with Parliament allowing them to war with or against whomever they chose; think of Cromwell and Drogheda, and his opposition to inherited power, but nomination of his son to succeed him; and Charles II’s serial adultery (although he did refuse to follow Parliament’s wish that he divorce Catherine of Braganza so as to facilitate the conception of an heir. And, during the Great Fire of London, he did not fiddle his cithera). He sent one illegitimate son overseas to curb the bounder’s popularity; he rescinded an Act to provide additional religious tolerance so as to get Parliament to fund war against the Dutch; he prorogued Parliament to prevent them passing a bill to exclude his son from royal succession; Finally, there was William III’s insistence that, with his wife, Mary, ahead of him for succession, “he was so made, that he could not think of holding anything by apron-strings”.
There were a number of incidents or situations for which Jackson provides no new insights: the Spanish Armada, and Spain’s leadership issues during it; the irony that, James I, while waiting for Elizabeth I’s funeral to conclude, would stay with one Oliver Cromwell, uncle of the man who would manage the execution of his son; that James I was so keen to create the entity, Great Britain; and the escapade to Spain by Buckingham and the future Charles I to check up on the Infanta. But they were entertainingly covered, nevertheless.
I think, however, her account of Scotland’s James VI’s intrigues to become England’s James I (and of Elizabeth I’s opacity on the matter of her successor) is more complete than anything I have read elsewhere.
One of Clare Jackson’s great attributes in this history is the thoroughness of her research, particularly amongst papers in international archives. I particularly enjoyed the following: Dispatched to London to congratulate James on his accession as king in 1603, the Protestant Huguenot Maximilien de Béthune, Marquis of Rosny, insisted that ‘no nation in Europe is more haughty and disdainful, nor more conceited in an opinion of its superior excellence’. Inclined ‘to adore all their own opinions, and despise those of every other nation’, the English, he speculated, had ‘contracted all the instability of the element by which they are surrounded’, namely water. For this reason, Rosny insisted that any French ambassador must be someone ‘of understanding and authority, who may compel them to hear him, and force them to be reasonable’. I suspect, however, that similar disparaging descriptions were offered by all of Europe’s nations about one another.
It is apparent that Cromwell was regarded as even more of a bumpkin by the courts of Europe: he had, after all, no connection to the high aristocracy and was apparently monolingual (although as a student of Sydney Sussex College, Cambridge, he must have had functional Latin).
At much the same time as these observations were being offered about the English unsophisticated inferiority, other observers expressed disdain that the common Englishmen, fed on a nutritious diet of newly published books and papers, digested in the many coffee shops, felt entitled to offer opinions on, and debate, the activities of their betters.
Mind you, the abuse could travel in both directions, and not necessarily over a great distance. Apparently there is a thing known as bdelygmia (my Shorter Oxford does not confirm it, but Wikipedia does), and apparently a good example was written about the Scots:
The English troops had … kept ourselves warm with the hopes of rubbing, fubbing and scrubbing those scurvy, filthy, dirty, nasty, lousy, itchy, scabby, shitten, stinking, slovenly, snotty-nosed, logger-headed, foolish, insolent, proud, beggarly, impertinent, absurd, grout-headed, villainous, barbarous, bestial, false, lying, roguish, devilish, long-eared, short-haired, damnable, atheistical, puritanical crew of the Scotch Covenant.
Finally, I was fascinated to read of the funeral arrangements of Prince Henry, the golden-haired eldest son of James I and Anna. During the body’s month of lying in state prior to the funeral, ten courtiers attended him throughout, bringing in three meals a day. All of which sounds remarkably like Bronze Age burials.
This book will not give its reader any reassurance on the nobility of mankind or the traditions of self-sacrifice in the leadership class, but for whoever can overcome those realities, it is a superb account of a weird century.