My favorite books on British and Irish history for readers interested in a wide range of topics

If you are looking for a suspenseful non-fiction book on British history that reads like a novel and you won’t want to put down, this is the book for you.

I knew the basic outlines of the story of Kim Philby, a double agent inside Britain’s MI6 secret service spying on behalf of the Soviets. It turns out there is so much more to the story, told in a fascinating way by well-regarded author Macintyre in a book that would defy belief if the author had made up the details of Philby’s story for a novel.

This book will lead you to question how well we can ever really know someone, while also teaching you much about Britain’s involvement in the Cold War and the history of the post-war world.

The late nineteenth century is key to understanding the modern relationship between Britain and Ireland and no book does a better job of defining and exploring that relationship than this one.

The author deftly transitions between Charles Stewart Parnell, the Land War, and the Home Rule movement in Ireland on the one hand and Prime Minister William Gladstone, Queen Victoria, and British parliamentary politics on the other. The central focus, though, is on a murderous conspiracy that had long-range implications for both Britain and Ireland and includes a detective story to solve the murders that could have come straight out of the pages of Arthur Conan Doyle.

The book also includes the story of the informer whose attempts to escape retribution constitute an adventure story in its own right. 

If there is any one book that has changed the way I view early modern British history, Kaufman has written that book.

Kaufman has written a series of mini-biographies here of Black residents of Britain during the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries that predate Britain’s involvement in the slave trade and demonstrate just how wide-ranging the Black British experience was during this period. The book challenges many preconceptions, especially the association of Blacks with slavery that really only emerged in England after the Tudor period.

The stories of the individuals featured in this book have much to teach us, not only about this early period, but about the Black contribution to British history in general and the need for historians to write them back into that history.

Having first read this 1963 classic of English historiography in graduate school, Thompson’s masterpiece gets better every time I re-read it.

Although primarily considered a work of social history, I love the way Thompson interweaves political, cultural, intellectual, religious, and social history throughout the text. This book focuses on the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries and shows the resilience of conservative ideas during a period shaped by the Industrial, American, and French Revolutions, as well as the Napoleonic Wars and their aftermath.

In an age when many books go out of date within a decade or two, this classic will likely endure and be read 200 years from now for the insights it provides into working-class culture during one of the outwardly bleakest periods of labor history. 

Also published as Bosworth 1485: The Psychology of a Battle, this is one of my all-time favorite books on military history. Like Josephine Tey’s historical novel, The Daughter of Time, Jones challenges the Shakespearean and Tudor versions of Richard III’s reign.

Unlike Tey, Jones does not completely exonerate Richard for the murder of his nephews, but nor does he regard the future Henry VII in any more favorable of a light. What I liked best about this book is the way in which Jones humanizes the historical participants in the Wars of the Roses to a degree usually reserved for historical novels.

The reader will finish this book with a better understanding of the human factors, complexities, and contingencies of late medieval history—indeed of history in general.