Wise without pomp – Charles I’s Scottish Tutor: Guest post by Mark Turnbull

I’m so very excited to introduce you to a fellow Wars of the Three Kingdoms enthusiast, Mark Turnbull. He is the author of The Rebellion Series, a thrilling trilogy set during the first English Civil War, and the creator of CavalierCast: The Civil War in Words, a wonderful historical podcast. His fiction is well-researched and gripping, and his podcast is informative and insightful. Recently, he has ventured into non-fiction with his biography of King Charles I, Charles I’s Private Life.

Mark has graciously given us a taste of his biography in this guest post about an influential man in the monarch’s life. Welcome to the blog, Mark!

Wise without pomp – Charles I’s Scottish Tutor, by Mark Turnbull

In the tumultuous year of 1605, the Gunpowder Plot unravelled, and a plan to blow up the Protestant establishment was foiled. It had involved killing Prince Charles, the 4-year-old second son of King James VI/I. The year was not all bad news for the young prince, however, because 41-year-old Thomas Murray was appointed as his tutor, a role the man would carry out with ‘diligence and energy’. Murray would go on to become the prince’s secretary, as well as a father-figure. Yet, despite shaping Charles’s character over the next 16 years, the devoted Murray barely gets a mention in history books. His influence hasn’t been fully recognised or appreciated and this is partly down to an unassuming nature and aversion to court politics. What was clear whilst researching ‘Charles I’s Private Life’ was that Murray had a profound effect upon his pupil, which led one contemporary to remark that he had ‘brought up’ the prince.

Murray, a Scotsman from a well-heeled family, was a highly intelligent poet and author. From the beginning he saw potential in Charles, telling the king that his son was capable of all things ‘which his art or industry may afford’. Murray sourced books for the prince, put him in contact with artists and diplomats and encouraged an awareness of foreign affairs. The tutor drafted all official correspondence, acted as Charles’s interpreter, and became a cornerstone of the influential Scottish network surrounding the Royal Family. Murray’s own family were woven into the various royal households; his wife, Jean, was a cousin to one of Queen Anna’s ladies, his daughter was married to Prince Henry’s tutor, and a nephew, William Murray, was young Charles’s playmate.

In 1612, Murray, like the rest of Britain, lamented the sudden death of Henry, Prince of Wales, describing it as a ‘great wound’. But he retained a confidence in the future – a confidence in Charles. At this moment, many looked to cultivate the new heir’s tutor, and Isaac Wake, an English Ambassador, judged that Murray’s ‘honesty’ made him ‘well-esteemed’. In the bawdy and cut-throat Jacobean court, this is indeed a meaningful observation. Charles, who shared Murray’s love of learning, was seen as equally above the ‘den of vice’ with his chaplain described his temperament as ‘sober, grave, swete’. His tutor’s character, therefore, was one that Charles must have easily related to, and perhaps emulated. They certainly shared a quiet diligence. As king, Charles would draw inspiration and strength from chivalric beliefs, even to the point of self-delusion, and this was instilled during his formative years with Murray.

The meteoric rise of George Villiers, later Duke of Buckingham, incinerated many influential courtiers in his path. Murray recognised Buckingham’s power and counselled people not to ignore it. But his own place about Charles was not threatened by Buckingham; instead, it was religion that would lead to his downfall. This was the one big difference between Murray and Charles. The former was of Presbyterian (some also say Puritan) persuasion – described as pious without superstition and wise without pomp – while Charles was ‘high church’ and later a follower of Arminianism. King James had long desired a Catholic wife for his heir and when a Spanish bride was foisted upon Charles, opposition mounted from many quarters, even within Charles’s own household. The prince himself could also be reticent about the prospect. Charles’s Puritan chaplain, Dr Hakewill, wrote a book against the Spanish match, but went too far when he personally presented it to the prince. When it transpired that Murray had known about the book, and had not opposed the presentation – but not actively prevented it – Charles’s household imploded.

Murray, known for his opposition to the Spanish match, was placed under house arrest and then dismissed. From this moment on, removed of his most influential advisor, Charles fell ever more easily under the spell of Buckingham, with the most devastating of consequences. But despite this fallout, in 1622, an old promise to Murray was fulfilled when he was made Provost of Eton, surely with Charles’s blessing and intervention. As Charles and Buckingham left Britain incognito, at the start of 1623, travelling to Madrid in an audacious bid to conclude marriage negotiations with the Infanta, Murray lay gravely ill. Only months after their departure, he died, aged 59. Sir Robert Aytoun wrote of Murray that ‘no man that hath lived in such a qualitie as he ever died so poor’. It’s a fitting testament to Thomas Murray’s character.

I could find precious little in conventional history books about Murray, especially so after his dismissal. It seemed sad that he should die whilst the boy he had raised was abroad, attempting to seal a marriage that had dominated everything for the past ten years. I wondered whether Charles felt this loss, and whether he had made any effort to help Murray’s family. After some archival searches, I discovered a letter that Buckingham had written from Madrid, intervening over Thomas Murray’s pension, and advocating its transfer to his widow. There were certainly difficulties on account of the parlous state of royal coffers. Jean Murray was even counselled to wait for Charles’s return before making any petitions, so that he could support the motion. Most tellingly of all, when he became king, Charles appointed Murray’s son as a groom of his bedchamber. Murray’s daughter (later Lady Anne Halkett) also played a leading part in helping Charles’s son, James, Duke of York, escape parliamentary custody during the civil wars.

Thomas Murray’s entry in an autograph book from around 1615 (which Charles also signed) gives a real hint about the man himself. Writing his name in Latin, of which he was well-versed, he adds an inscription that life should be lived well, according to the will of God, and that the reader should take heart from the sentence, for the Almighty returns everything in the end. Murray understood the transient nature of politics and life itself. He has faded into obscurity, but his mentoring shaped both the character, and in effect the reign, of King Charles I.

About the Author

After a visit to Helmsley Castle at the age of 10, Mark bought a pack of ‘top trump’ cards featuring the monarchs of England. The card portraying King Charles I fascinated him. Van Dyck’s regal portrait of the King and the fact that he was executed by his own people were the beginnings of a passionate interest in the Civil Wars that has lasted ever since.

Mark also produces a podcast called CavalierCast – The Civil War in Words. This is dedicated to the Wars of the Three Kingdoms and explores a variety of topics with leading historians, archaeologists, and re-enactors. Mark lives in County Durham with his wife and two children.

For more information, visit Mark’s Website, and for a catalogue of his published work, including his latest release release, Charles I’s Private Life, visit his Amazon Author Page: Amazon UK, Amazon U.S,