The first book you’ve chosen is by Antonia Fraser. What does this tell us about Oliver Cromwell?

Fraser luxuriates in a skilful way with all the detail. It’s a book that narrates the story in a very rich way, and is written for a general audience at an appropriately intelligent level. Whereas most of the biographies are written for students, this is the one that anyone can access, and if they’ve got the stomach for a long book, then it’s a very good, leisurely read which has a lot of fascinating detail in it. For example, it gives an amazing account of the way Cromwell’s body was treated after he died – the bungled attempts to embalm it, its treatment by the vindictive regime two years later (when it was dug up and hanged in its shroud), and, of course, the long and complicated story regarding the treatment of Cromwell’s skull, which many people think is now buried in his Cambridge college chapel. All that kind of rather macabre detail Fraser handles really well. It’s an intelligent book for a general audience.

How has her portrait held up against more modern scholarship?

Well, it’s clearly not at the cutting edge interpretively. It doesn’t attempt to demonstrate an advanced knowledge of Calvinism or of the kind of religious movements that Cromwell engaged with. It’s very much a “how” and “what” book, rather than a “why” book. Given that this is the case, one wouldn’t normally give it to students – students are normally answering “why” questions rather than “how” questions. But if you’re interested in how Cromwell gets from one place to another, and what explains the twists and turns in his career, this one is good.

Your next book, Barry Coward’s Oliver Cromwell, is one all students probably do read. Can you tell us why you think it’s useful?

Barry Coward is a writer of a number of general works on the 17th century. He brings extreme lucidity and conciseness to the topic. It’s a short book, which is – and doesn’t claim to be more than – a very clear account of the main debates about Cromwell. It doesn’t argue a very strong line itself; it simply represents the different strands of thought there are about Cromwell. For instance, if you read Cromwell’s own words, he comes across as a sincere man trying to teach the English the responsibilities of liberty. He’s freed them from tyranny under kings and bishops; now they have to learn the responsibilities of liberty. That’s one view. Another view is that actually, behind this rhetoric of liberty, lay a man ruthlessly pursuing a career and bent from an early stage on personal power. Coward looks at the evidence for both those points of view. So it’s just an admirable summary of the state of play as it was when he wrote it, which is not that long ago – things haven’t moved on that much.

And it’s more analytical than the Antonia Fraser.

Yes. It’s a very good first book for students, and it also gives general readers a much stronger sense of all the major debates in the field.

Your next choice, God’s Executioner, is specifically about Cromwell in Ireland. I know that’s something you’ve spent a lot of time studying. Do you think that, in general, people don’t know much about this part of the story?

Oh, I’m sure they don’t. A century ago, GK Chesterton said that the tragedy of the English conquest in the 17th century was that the Irish couldn’t forget it and the English couldn’t remember it. And it is amazing how little people over here know about the whole thing. Despite the title, this book is actually pretty balanced – in fact, it’s far more balanced than some of the extreme views that have been expressed, even in recent times, about Cromwell as a ruthless killer of everyone he encounters. Or, in the view of another book that was written ten years ago, someone who didn’t kill any civilians at all. Siochrú has studied the Irish sources much more thoroughly than anybody else, and he’s found new sources too. He gives a very balanced account – though one which has some harsh judgments on Cromwell along the way – and it’s extremely well-written.