Most Helpful Customer Reviews
|
|
10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A golden oldie - but still the greatest, March 25, 2002
I first read Mattingly's book as a grammar school (high-school to readers on the other side of the pond) history student in England in the 1960s, and have been coming back to it regularly ever since for the sheer pleasure of it. My old paperback copy wore out, so my family gave me the hardback version.
The great strength of Mattingly's treatment is that he went far beyond the purely naval aspects of the campaign. He set it squarely in the context of the politico-religious struggle for domination in western Europe, with England and the Dutch Protestants on one side, Spain and all her allies and dependencies on the other, and France paralysed by a ferocious three-cornered internal struggle in which both sides intervened. He is particularly strong on the events before and after the battle of Coutras which prevented France from either pursuing the ultra-Catholic preferences of the house of Guise (of which Mary Queen of Scots' mother was a member), or the traditional French policy of opposition to the Hapsburg rulers of Spain, which the Catholic King Henri of Valois and his Protestant heir-apparent Henri of Navarre would both have preferred. Mattingly shows great insight in realising that it was the execution of Mary Queen of Scots (the event with which he opens his narrative) that freed Philip to launch the Armada; sending it while she was alive would have risked putting a pro-French queen on the English throne.
I do nevertheless find two serious gaps in Mattingly's handling of the geopolitical context. The first is the Dutch, who after all had been fighting the war, and suffering the casualties, longer than anyone else except Spain. Mattingly ignores their internal dynamics and skates over the detail of their relationships with England, in both areas doing far less than justice to a key element in the strategic equation. The second gap is the lack of treatment of the Scottish dimension. Scotland, ruled by Mary's son James VI, was the dog that did not bark in the night in 1587-88, and the reasons for that deserve analysis. Yes, after his mother's death James was nearest heir to the English throne, but just HOW did he dissuade the Scots - over whom his power was strictly limited - from using the excuse for their usual descent on England?
Mattingly's general strength on the geopolitical aspects does not mean he is weak or lacking in detail on the naval and military aspects: quite the contrary. Coverage of Drake's 1587 raid on Cadiz is pretty much obligatory in a history of the Armada, and Mattingly gives it blow by blow (incidentally revealing what a thoroughly impossible man Drake was to work with). But he is equally strong on Parma's capture of Sluys, which he hoped would be his troops' embarkation point, in the face of dour resistance by the Dutch-English garrison. When it comes to the Armada itself, his grasp of detail is supreme. Mattingly was probably the first of all the many hundreds of Armada historians to read a tide-table and work out that Drake really would have had time to finish his game of bowls - had he ever played it. My only quibble here is over the Dutch naval contribution: they were never in contact with the Armada itself, but their presence scotched any possibility of Parma's forces making a rendezvous. Mattingly acknowledges their importance, but I personally would have welcomed more detail.
Mattingly belonged to the bravura school of English-language historians (Gwyn "The Vikings" Jones is another great exponent), which is both a strength and a weakness. His magnificent prose and grand narrative sweep carry the reader along on a flood tide - sometimes to the extent of concealing omissions and even (for all I know, not being a professional historian) errors. A few of his stylistic mannerisms grate a little nowadays, notably his use of "men" (as in "men said that ...") when a modern viewpoint requires acknowledgement that half the population is female. But these are minor quibbles - buy it and read it!
|
|
|
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
The Beginning of a Century of Change, March 9, 2002
The defeat of the Armada inaugurated a period which, for English history at least, culminated in the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and the triumph of a bourgeois science-based way of life.In this book, Mattingly, unlike many others who have concentrated on the naval aspects of the episode, explores the motivations of the states and individuals involved. In brisk, experienced vignettes, he presents the dilemma facing the English government faced with the intractable problem of the putative heir to the throne, Mary, Quen of Scots, a Catholic, at a time when Elizabeth's throne had been explicity threatened by the Pope. We see the weakness of France; the relentless attempts of the leading Catholic power, Habsburg Spain, to suppress the Protestant inspired revolt of Holland, which involved military action close to the Kent shore, and action in which England was already heavily involved and expensively subsidizing. The cutting of the Gordian knot by the execution of Mary precipitated the Spanish attack. Philip II hoped to achieve several objectives at once: to remove Elizabethan Protestantism from Europe; to end English interference with his military action in Holland; finally to crush the Dutch Republic and re-establish the unity of Christendom. The social and religious motivations of the actors are brilliantly portrayed by an expert in the diplomatic records of the period. Perhaps the most telling thing you can say in favour of this book is that it is not written for the professional historian, but cannot be ignored by any of them.
|
|
|
|
