Bookshot #181: The Restless Republic
I'm trying to think where my fascination with this period of British history began and I think it might
stem from a trip to visit relatives in the UK when I was younger where we went and saw a historical re-enactor present about the English Civil War at my cousins' school. The re-enactor in question was dressed as a Cavalier and I thought the overall look, but especially the hat was pretty damn cool. (He also, once he found out we were American informed us that at least one battle of the English Civil War took place in Maryland, which is true.)
As I grew older, I think it was a combination of picking up random books on various UK trips (Cromwell, Our Chief of Men, King Charles II, and most recently, The Glorious Revolution) but I think I have to give credit to Mike Duncan's incredible Revolutions podcast that got me interested not just in expanding my own knowledge of the period, but trying to trace back what influence it may have had on the development of American democracy and the roots of our own Revolution which followed 1688 Glorious Revolution by about ninety years.
The Restless Republic was to be another piece of the puzzle, trying to answer that question about the roots of American democracy, but as I'm increasingly finding with this period, I think the influence the English Civil War had on the development of American democracy is hard to quantify.
But now the book: I think non-fiction must be damn hard to write, and historical non-fiction doubly so. I think it's a rare achievement when biographers and historians avoid the dreaded 'dry and dusty tome' trap but somehow manage to capture a specific period, help your reader deepen their understanding of the period- beyond the basic sketch of the historical events and make a compelling, readable book is an achievement. The fact that the thumbnail of this book specifically cites that it was shortlisted for the Baillie Gifford Prize for Non-Fiction 2022 and the Amazon page proclaims in very large font that it's The Sunday Times History Book of the Year 2022 and Winner of the Pol Roger Duff Cooper Prize for Non-Fiction there's a reason for all of it. Just looking at this book, there's hype and there's a very good reason for that, because it delivers.
I think what makes this book work is that Anna Keay doesn't just look at the view from the people at the heart of the Interregnum-- she looks at the 'regular folks' as well. So, although the book starts out with the Trial of the King (Charles I) and the man who presided over it (John Bradshaw), you start to find out that the decision to put the King on trial to begin with wasn't exactly a popular one and had not more radical elements of the army pruned out members of Parliament it didn't consider reliable (Pride's Purge), it's entirely possible that they wouldn't have put him on trial at all. In fact, one of the key players in the Civil War, Fairfax conspicuously absented himself from the Trial.
But then, you also get to learn about Winstanley and the Diggers. You get to see the nascent seeds of journalism emerge with Marchamont Needham. You get to meet Anna Trapnel and the Fifth Monarchists. You get to see two different portraits of Royalist resistance-- the first, Countess Derby and her defense of the Isle of Man and her subsequent drive to restore her family fortune after they surrender to the Commonwealth forces. In contrast, the L'Estrange Family out in Norfolk worked hard and sort of kept their heads down throughout- paying the extra taxes and working their way through the finances and sort of just doing their thing out in the country while waiting to see what the government would do.
(If there's one missing thing, it might be a chapter on The Levellers, but I'm going to keep digging on this period, so hopefully, I can fill in the gaps there.)
I think the most surprising thing about this book is learning that Britain's brief flirtation with Republicanism was brief indeed. You could argue that the Pride's Purge ushered in something akin to a military regime, given the fact that the Army exercised veto power over the decisions of Parliament, and while they took steps towards a Republic- abolishing the Monarchy, the Privy Council and the House of Lords. The Rump Parliament (as it was called) was eventually dismissed by Cromwell, which ushered in a period of military rule that, despite another short-lived attempt at a Parliament, eventually turned into the Protectorate.
So, really, if there was a chance at Republicanism really taking hold in Britain, the window was very short indeed, and in a deep irony for a cause that fought for the sovereignty of Parliament over that of the monarchy, was hampered by the fact that when the Army and Cromwell thought Parliament was about to do something they didn't like, they dismissed them. The ironies deepen when Cromwell becomes Lord Protector and essentially assumes a 'quasi-monarchical' role-- while avoiding a throne or a crown (which he refuses, to his credit?) he does have a chair and robes and a seal and a lot of the trappings of monarchy while the governing of the country as a whole is done through the Council of State and the Major-Generals of the Army.
The window closed on Republicanism pretty quickly to me when the Protectorate formed, The Commonwealth was more of a quasi-military regime whose claim to authority- given how quick they were to dismiss various Parliaments was murky at best.
The book takes a detour to Ireland and Henry Cromwell's attempts to restore something resembling common sense to the government there, as the victorious Commonwealth forces were setting up plans to forcibly transplant the defeated Irish to the far west of the country and redistribute their lands to soldiers of the army as reward/recompense. This leads to a strange intersection between politics and the burgeoning scientific revolution with William Perry conducting the first mass survey of Ireland and doing so using new and surprisingly efficient techniques. Henry Cromwell does settle Ireland down a bit- and I use that phrase extremely generously because of the Commonwealth's treatment of Ireland- whether it was Oliver Cromwell presiding over massacres at Drogheda and Wexford or their general treatment of the entire country as a place to be subjugated and brutalized for religious reasons sets the stage for quite literally everything else (and there's a lot) that followed. I'm sure there was ugly history before this, but there's a reason the Irish don't like the name Cromwell and Keay illustrates that they've got good reasons for that.
Signals that the Republican moment had passed become even clearer when Parliament tries to offer Oliver Cromwell the Crown itself. He refused the Crown, but took the rest of Parliament's legislation (regular Parliaments, taxation, etc) and then died the next year, passing the role of Protector to his son Richard, who was not at all prepared for it in the way Henry could have been.
Offering Cromwell the Crown was a big giant red flag and without military service, Richard had no control over the Army when the Army moved to supplant Parliament entirely, one man made a profound decision that changed history: General George Monck came down firmly against the idea of 'rule by the sword' and set himself against the Major Generals Regime. Astonishingly, a conflict that was about the primacy of Parliament led to a regime that treated Parliament as an afterthought if it didn't do what it was expected to do and that eventually someone was going to stand up and circle back around to the original point of all of this. Keay presented Monck as a man who played his cards very close to his chest, but once he made a decision, he was all in 'with enthusiasm.' And that served him quite well in the final crisis-- he got Fairfax out of retirement and soon was in London where the Rump Parliament demanded that he destroy the gates of the City of London (and sticking to his original position-- that soldiers received orders and act on them, he did so) but he turned the tables and demanded elections for a full Parliament and got them, knowing exactly what the Parliament was probably going to do: bring back Charles II from exile and restore the Monarchy.
And that's exactly what happened.
(Keay also notes that Monck is curiously uncelebrated for his role in fighting for Parliament's authority and when they needed a statue outside of Parliament, they went with Oliver Cromwell, which seems odd, given how Cromwell treated the institution.)
While the Declaration of Breda started things off with a note of reconciliation and Charles II was far more magnanimous than he could have been with opponents of his father's, a retrenchment of the old order was probably inevitable and soon the religious liberty that had flourished under the Commonwealth was curtailed again, but it was never entirely stamped out. The Republican Period (again, I don't know if you could call it that, given what happened in the Protectorate, but sure, we'll call it that) unleashed a lot of toothpaste from the proverbial tube and no Parliament or King was going to be able to get it all back together again. You could argue that the Interregnum and the Restoration changed Britain profoundly enough that it made the Glorious Revolution, which finally confirmed the primacy of Parliament once and for all.
Overall: This is a brilliant book and more than deserving of all the awards and hype that go along with it. Keay has crafted an amazing book that honestly, if you want a one-volume download on what happened when Charles I was beheaded and what led them to bring his son, Charles II back to the throne, this would be the best place to start. If you're like me and you're looking to expand your understanding of this period of history, this is a must-read volume. It's readable, it's comprehensive, it's just an amazing book. My Grade: **** out of ****
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