Uncivil war

In the seven years between 1642 and 1649 a staggering one in ten of the adult male population of the British Isles died. This was more than three times the proportion that died in the First World War and more than five times the proportion that died in World War Two.

If disease, dislocation and famine are added to battle deaths, and the timeframe extended to include the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland (1649 – 1653) the total number of dead could be as high as 868,000. The vast majority of these were in Ireland in the later period (with up to 600,000 deaths).

The English Civil War is poorly named on two main counts – it had an even greater impact on Ireland, Wales and Scotland and was as much warfare between these countries as it was internal strife. As a percentage Ireland was most affected (losing up to 40% of its population), followed by Scotland (6%) and England (3.7%). The total number of civil war deaths in Great Britain is estimated to be around 185,000 – around 4% of the total population (compared to the First World War’s 2.19% and the Second World War’s 0.94%).

Other pre-twentieth century conflicts resulted in a smaller proportional death toll, largely because the fighting took place far from the island fortress. Britain lost between 250,000 and 300,000 in the Napoleonic Wars (1803 – 1815) (representing just 1.875% of Britain’s growing population) and only 22,000 in the Crimean War. 

Take down "that murdering bastard"

In his book following Oliver Cromwell's murderous rampage through Ireland (God's Executioner: Oliver Cromwell and the Conquest of Ireland), Micheál Ó Siochrú relates the following anecdote to highlight the Great Protector's 'poisonous' legacy.

Robin Cook had recently assumed the position of Foreign Secretary, and decided that a physical manifestation of his ethical foreign policy would be the removal of a monumental portrait of portrait of Maharaja Sir Bir Shamsher Jang Bahadur Rana that hung in his private office. As this gentleman had served as Prime Minister of Nepal at the time of the Raj, it was felt to convey an overly imperial impression. In its place was hung solid, sensible and republican Oliver Cromwell.

Unfortunately, one of the first visitors following the replacement was the Bertie Ahern, the Taoiseach (the prime minister of Ireland). Straightaway, he noticed the painting of Oliver Cromwell. His reaction was instant and explosive - he walked out and refused to return until the portrait of “that murdering bastard” had been removed.

Or did he? This was too good an anecdote not to be repeated in newspapers, magazines and across the internet. But it may never have happened. Bertie Ahern strongly denied the story, telling the Irish Times that: "I can honestly say there was no walkout." Still, the Taoiseach was not best pleased, and left Robin Cook in no doubt as to his opinion on the 'great Englishman', and leaving the Foreign Secretary somewhat surpised by the strength of feeling.