Don’t Mention the War: The Start of Civil War in England

The tragedy of the Civil War is explored by the author of a new biography of Charles I.
Charles at his trial in 1649
Home » Articles » Don’t Mention the War: The Start of Civil War in England

Don’t Mention the War: The Start of Civil War in England

The tragedy of the Civil War is explored by the author of a new biography of Charles I. The devastating civil wars of the 17th century tore Great Britain’s three kingdoms apart. They were wars ‘without an enemy’. But there is disagreement to this day over the point civil war formally began in England, between King Charles I and his Parliament. I’ll explore two popular ones in more detail, before moving onto a third, which I came across during research for a new biography of Charles I. It offers intriguing context and receives scant mention in history books.

First, we begin with 23 April 1642. The fate of Hull that day was a crucial turning point in the political manoeuvring between King Charles I and Parliament. Ironically, it was Saint George’s Day when the honour of Sir John Hotham, the parliamentarian governor of the town, was put to the ultimate test. Within the walls was a stash of 7000 barrels of gunpowder, 120 pieces of ordnance and arms for 20,000 men, as well as the king’s 9-year-old son, the Duke of York, and his nephew the Elector Palatine. The two royals had been sent to ‘visit’ the day before. When the king himself came before the town with several hundred followers, an epic showdown took place; Hull was not big enough for both King Charles and Governor Hotham. The gates were closed. Drawbridges raised. Hotham stood on the walls and refused his newest visitor entry, even when rasps of royal trumpets pronounced him a traitor. Checkmated, the king withdrew, though to make matters worse, Hotham initially refused to release both the duke and elector.

No matter how much the king protested to MPs and peers in Parliament, calling for justice to be ‘exemplarily inflicted’ for such disobedience, it was to no avail. The Rubicon had been crossed. In his memoirs, Sir Richard Bulstrode declared his opinion that rebuttal at Hull was the point when war had been ‘openly declared against the king’. In more recent times, a plaque has been affixed near the site of the principal entrance to Hull and it commemorates what occurred there as ‘the first overt act of the civil war’. Hotham’s actions certainly seemed to fly in the face of Parliament’s assertion that it was opposing the king’s evil counsellors and not his royal person. But there is another event that is more traditionally looked upon as the formal start of hostilities.

On 22 August 1642, King Charles raised his royal standard in Nottingham. It is an event that has become infamous over the centuries, with many using it as an appropriate anchor point – the formal start of the conflict. It’s routinely (but inaccurately) billed as King Charles declaring war on his people. An online poll I recently conducted received 219 votes, with 64% opting for this as the formal start of the English Civil War. Both King and Parliament, however, were raising troops, securing strongholds or arms, and battling it out in skirmishes well before 22 August. Yet, because of this ceremonial flag-waving, credit for officially kicking off hostilities is often laid squarely at Charles’s door. This can skew and polarise perceptions of both the king and the beginnings of the conflict.

The standard was hoisted to the heavens not once, but twice. The first time it had been inserted into a badly dug hole only to be blown down, which was considered a bad omen. The king declared his intention to suppress the ‘pretended’ rebellion of the Earl of Essex, who had raised troops against him, and called for ‘the aid and assistance of all his loving subjects’. The standard bearer, Sir Edmund Verney, declared that he would never part with it unless his soul was wrested from his body, which is eventually what happened.

In the days that followed, it seemed as if royal advisors were prepared to undermine the ceremony altogether, no matter Verney’s vow. Much to the king’s frustration, a majority persuaded him, even at this decisive point, to send representatives to London in a last-ditch attempt to secure peace. It was a move that discouraged royalist supporters, who feared declaring their colours lest the king sell out to his enemies – as he had done in the past. With scarcely one thousand troops by his side, the monarch had hoped this ancient ceremony would bring patriotic recruits flooding in. In the aftermath only a meagre 30 or so materialised. As Parliament’s army of 15,000 drew closer, Charles was forced to flee west towards the Welsh border. However, the event at Nottingham can be turned on its head.

Weeks before, on 4 August 1642, Parliament made a very significant declaration, referenced by John Rushworth, who would later become secretary to Sir Thomas Fairfax. The precise wording had been passed in the House of Commons and then approved by the Lords on 2 August. MPs and peers announced in a long statement that they were engaged in a ‘necessity’ to take up arms. Every key moment in the slide to war was listed, justifying hostilities against a ‘malignant’ party that surrounded the monarch. It ranged from the king’s failed attempts to impose a new prayer book on Scotland, to his move against 6 Members of Parliament in January 1642, and the fiasco before Hull. Parliament called to their cause anyone with a sense of piety and honour and insisted they would all live or die in it. The kingdom, they asserted was in imminent danger, and this was the reason for raising an army under the command of the Earl of Essex.

The declaration was a rallying call that supported the Earl of Essex’s commission to ‘invade, resist, repress, subdue, pursue, slay and kill’. Just as the king summoned troops when he raised his banner three weeks later, by this declaration Parliament was calling men Essex’s colours. Sir Simonds D’Ewes considered it ‘full of virulent expressions against the king’. The Venetian Ambassador was in no doubt when he reported home that the English Parliament had just declared war on the king. More recently, historian Conrad Russell concurred that it ‘called for war’. If Parliament had a standard of its own, it would have been flapping above their chambers over two weeks earlier than the kings in Nottingham. On 9 August, another parliamentary declaration condoned the slaying and killing of their enemies, whilst that same day, Charles published his intention to suppress the rebellion.

When reconsidering the raising of the royal standard in light of this fresh context, it’s clear that King Charles was on the back foot. During much of the lurch towards hostilities, he had been reactive and often embarrassingly so. Raising the standard was another example of this, rather than the action of a war-hungry tyrant. By the start of August, formal warfare was practically inevitable because of civilian and military clashes stemming from both sides – but there was certainly no way back after Parliament’s explosive declaration of 4 August. As monarch, King Charles alone held the power to declare war – Parliament had no legal right, but their declarations amounted to such in all but name. The longer Charles hesitated, the sooner Parliament (with control of the Royal Navy and a hugely superior army) would undoubtedly capture him. His Sergeant-Major-General, Jacob Astley, warned as much. By raising his standard, the king could transform his enemies into rebels and justify his own cause in the process.

On 12 August, Charles finally announced an intention to raise his standard. Ten days later, according to Richard Bulstrode, the king was forced to carry out the ceremony earlier than desired because of the ‘unhappy Accident’ of George Goring. The parliamentary governor of Portsmouth had agreed to turn coat, providing the king with a port through which he could receive supplies from the continent. Bulstrode was sure that Goring’s act, taking place earlier than expected, led to the raising of the standard on 22 August, despite Charles not being in ‘any Condition’ for action. War became de jure and not just de facto.

Such fascinating context aids understanding of the slide to war in England. The parliamentary declarations are both significant and under-examined, and in light of reconsideration, 4 August 1642 is a strong contender for the date civil war in England formally commenced.

Mark Turnbull is a novelist and historian and the author of Charles I’s Private Life.

Don’t Mention the War: The Start of Civil War in England