England Under Queen Anne: Ramillies and the Union With Scotland
by
[Longmans, Green, $.5.00]
IF this second volume of Mr. Trevelyan’s England under Queen Anne is less dramatic than his Bleneim, that is the fault rather of the history in question than of the historian. Blenheim in 1704 had been the first battle lost by the French since 1643. Bamillies in 1706, although a great victory for Marlborough, was an anticlimax to the extent that it was a second victory, The third victory of the Grand Alliance, the defeat of the French in Italy by Prince Kugene later in the year of Ramillies, was not Marlborough’s and therefore not England’s. And the war in Spain and elsewhere produced no single triumphs equal to Blenheim, Ramillies, and Turin. The years 1705-1709, covered by this volume, were years of consolidation. England, risen to new eminence and responsibility on the Continent, had to establish herself there as well as at home.
The Union with Scotland was at once a domestic and a foreign issue. England, involved with the rest of Europe, could not turn her face in security across the Channel so long as she had a Scotch dirk at her back. The Union was as great an achievement for diplomacy as Marlborough’s for arms, Mr. Trevelyan’s scrupulous and lucid accounts of military campaigns are matched by his history of men and events in polities.
The second volume has no broad survey quite comparable to the description of the England of Queen Anne in the first. The counterpart description of Scotland, however, is of the same quality, and is a masterpiece of historical reconstruction. Scotland’s golden eighteenth century was still ahead. Burns had not yet found for his country the tongue that now sings everywhere, nor had Scott made Scotland the romantic capital of Europe. Beemist meting the Scotland of the Fnion, Mr. Trevelyan had to look backward through a good deal of radiant mist. He has happily combined a strict analysis of what Scotland was then with agreeable colors hinting at what, it was to be.
Marlborough is throughout the hook its hero, as England is its subject. He is shown at his peak as a soldier, at the beginning of his decline as a statesman. Smaller men than he were to carry out the political programme which his military achievements had made possible and necessary. Mr. Trevelyan handles their intricate doings with a fine patience. He keeps one hand on Marlborough in the field, the other on the Duchess at the Court. He follows the changes of mood which the Queen went through, divided between the imperious Duchess and the obliging Mrs. Masham. He even makes the stealth of Harley seem intelligible, twisting itself from somewhere to somewhere else.
One classic device of historians Mr. Trevelyan denies himself. Instead of introducing new figures in his story with a fanfare and bravura of character study, he identifies them, characterizes them briefly but accurately, and then lets them interpret themselves by their own actions. This self-denial illustrates his whole method. Many historians are best known for what are called their brilliant guesses, their flashes of light let into dark corners. Mr. Trevelyan makes if seem that brilliant guesses are the recourse of historians who have to guess because they do not know more than they do. Let a historian know enough, as much as Mr. Trevelyan knows about the age of Queen Anne, and he can do without occasional bright Hashes, He will he pouring a steady light, not into dark corners, but upon the whole stage.
CARL VAN DOREN