Three books about Archbishop Laud in three years, albeit two of them editions of manuscript sources, must be something of a record. Of widest interest, given the crucial role played by events north of the border in helping to generate civil war in England, is the very well researched volume by Leonie James about Laud and Scotland. The quotation in her title comes from the conclusion of the charges against the archbishop in December 1640, as delivered to the English House of Lords by the Scottish commissioners, and might seem at first sight, because of the lack of a question mark, to pre-empt discussion. Nevertheless, cutting through a rather confusing historiography, James makes a good case for Charles i and Laud together having pursued a coherent set of religious policies in all three kingdoms. The goal was ‘multi-church integration’ (p. 171). Moreover, she argues convincingly that ‘for an English archbishop, with no formal authority to intervene in a church outside his archiepiscopal jurisdiction, William Laud was as heavily involved in the affairs of the Scottish Church as it was possible to be’ (p. 12). Under James vi & i the main government concern apropos the Scottish Church had been the reintroduction of episcopacy, but during the royal visit of 1617 the chapel royal at Holyrood Palace was also used to show-case the English liturgy, with Laud in his capacity as royal chaplain causing particular controversy by wearing a surplice. The subsequent Perth Articles of 1618 required, among other things, kneeling at communion. Their ratification by the Scottish parliament of 1621, however, was only secured on the promise of the king to introduce no further changes. Yet, according to John Hacket, in his biography of Archbishop Williams (Scrinia reserata, 1693, 63–4), Laud had continued, albeit unsuccessfully, to urge James to press ahead with a new ‘liturgy and [book of] canons’ for Scotland – alienating the monarch in the process. Therefore it is the less surprising that with the revival of this proposal in 1629 Laud came to play a prominent part, in collaboration with John Maxwell, future bishop of Ross (1633). A further intriguing possibility is that Bishop Maxwell may partly have owed his promotion to the head of the Maxwell clan: Robert Maxwell, earl of Nithsdale. The latter, although a Roman Catholic, was high in royal favour and there certainly existed a long-standing tradition in Scotland of playing Catholics off against Presbyterians. Another important Scottish clerical figure at this time was William Forbes, appointed in 1633 to the newly created bishopric of Edinburgh. Prior to his appointment Forbes preached in the presence of King Charles at Edinburgh, on 25 June that same year, a sermon which appears to adumbrate future royal policy, in terms of a liturgy, catechism and confession common to both England and Scotland. A summary of this sermon survives, although reference to its existence has been omitted from the ODNB (xx. 311–12; cf. DNB xix. 411–12). The theme of ‘uniformity … in public worship as in doctrine’ recurs in the preface to the long-delayed Scottish Prayer Book of 1637. Paradoxically this liturgy, which sparked a rebellion on its introduction, made certain concessions to Scottish prejudices, such as substituting the term ‘presbyter’ for ‘priest’, while as regards the communion service it reverted to the more conservative 1549 Edwardian Prayer Book. The liturgy was probably mainly the work of Bishop James Wedderburn of Dunblane but serves as a reminder that the English Church was also being subjected to ‘Laudian’ changes during the 1630s. Wedderburn himself had spent time in England, actually being ordained by Bishop Lancelot Andrewes. None the less any replacement of John Knox's Book of Common Order, the officially authorised form of worship in Scotland since the 1560s, was almost bound to provoke a hostile reaction – especially in light of the continuing persecution of Scottish Presbyterians. On the other hand more could have been said here about the Act of Revocation, notably as a threat to property rights and with which Nithsdale had initially been much involved. All of which, however, only serves to confirm the argument of this first-rate book.

In This great firebrand, Leonie James refers to a surviving household account book of Archbishop Laud which sheds light on the unusual closeness of his relationship with Charles i, in terms of gift exchanges (p. 37). She has now gone on to publish this manuscript and in her introduction also draws attention to a similar volume which exists for Archbishop Abbot, covering the years 1614 to 1622 (Lambeth Palace Library, ms 1730). Ideally more could have been attempted here by way of comparison. Thus, for example, Kenneth Fincham in his ODNB article on Abbot (i. 21) states that on average the latter's ‘kitchen’ expenses amounted to £40 per week. This was significantly more than the weekly sums spent by Laud, to the tune of some £10 – even without allowing for price inflation. In an apologia, written during the late 1620s, Abbot made a virtue of such ‘hospitality’, which his critics by contrast tended to portray as a dangerous courting of ‘popularity’. Such documents are admittedly difficult to interpret, but the identification by the editor of the frequent gifts to Laud described in terms of a ‘cup and cover’ as having reference to ‘communion cups’ (p. xxxiv) is questionable. A secular use here seems more likely. The volume as a whole is expertly edited and virtually all those named have been identified, furnishing a most useful ‘glossary of names’ which runs to some sixty pages. They include three prominent religious sympathisers with Laud from among the laity: Viscount Scudamore, Sir Robert Banister and his son-in-law Lord William Maynard, as well as a host of others whose allegiances are more difficult to pin down.

The further correspondence of William Laud, edited by Kenneth Fincham, comprises an additional 223 letters to the 548 included in the nineteenth-century edition of Laud's Works. It is a splendid achievement. The entire corpus is also very helpfully listed in an appendix. Taken together the letters amply confirm Fincham's claim that they demonstrate ‘how Laud drew Charles into the daily work of governing the church, which enabled the archbishop to use royal authority to secure co-operation and compliance across three kingdoms’ (pp. l–li). Of particular relevance in the present context are the letters to the earl of Traquair and the marquess of Hamilton, illustrating the role of Laud as ‘Charles i's trusted lieutenant’ in the ‘Caroline reformation of the Scottish Church’. This in turn helps to explain his ‘status as an “incendiary” in the articles … submitted against him’ by the Scottish commissioners, in December 1640. Better known, of course, are the letters to Lord Deputy Wentworth and Bishop Bramhall, witnessing to the ‘Laudian reformation in Ireland’ (pp. xli–xliii). Other subjects covered include the rebuilding of St Paul's, Laud's relations with respectively Viscount Scudamore and one of his diocesans Bishop Bridgeman of Chester, as well as oversight of the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. Fincham writes of the ‘industrial scale’ of the correspondence conducted by Laud, of which only ‘a fraction’ survives (p. xxv), and one cannot but be struck by the phenomenal energy of the man. ‘Unsurprisingly the content of most [of these] letters was dominated by business’ (p. xxvi), which also helps to explain why, despite the wealth of surviving material, so much disagreement persists about the religious beliefs of Archbishop Laud. Clues however are to be found here, notably concerning the conversion of communion tables into altars (pp. 79, 90, 131–2) and the effective suppression of the predestinarian Irish Articles of 1615 (pp. 101–2, 107, 109). But no doubt the debate will continue. Meanwhile, collectively, these three volumes under review mark a very significant advance in Laudian studies.