Saunders and Otley first edition - 1842
A year after the publication of Henry of Monmouth, Major Michel brought out a second historical novel, this time concentrating on the period some sixty years later. It is not known whether the two books represent his total output, fiction or otherwise. This time the hero is definitely the (fictitious) figure named on the title page. The period covered, 1470-1, is a fraction of what the author calls the intestine feuds between the Yorkists (he refers to them throughout as the Yorkites) and those supporting Henry VI and Lancaster. Similar to his previous novel, the work is uneven, both in terms of style and content. Chapter II breaks off from the flow of narrative to spend 23 pages on a mere History lesson, complete with dates from 1450 to 1470 in the margins. He ends this with At this epoch does our story commence. Admittedly, for any reader not conversant with the period, issues and personnel, it is probably quite useful.
As someone who has shelves full of material, both non-fiction and fiction, on the Yorkists, I found it interesting to read a fervently pro-Lancastrian tale. Although Henry VI and Queen Margaret are depicted 'warts and all ' - one bordering on the imbecilic, the other arrogant, vindictive and tenacious of authority - the author reserves most of his venom for Edward IV. Sunk in debauchery, and utterly engrossed in the pursuit of pleasure...as prompt and energetic in the field, as he was slothful and weak in the cabinet. His brother Clarence is weak to a degree almost amounting to imbecility, he was moved by every idle breath...always the dupe, and eventually became the victim. As for the future Richard III, as the Duke of Gloucester, he is referred to as 'bloody' Gloucester and he does kill Edward, the Lancastrian Prince after the battle of Tewkesbury.
Louis XI is also well drawn - his brow lowering at all the right moments! Major Michel also catches the characters of Louis' brother, the Duke de Berri (who resembled much in character the English Duke of Clarence. Weak and vacillating, he entered with avidity into every intrigue) and the king's sinister henchmen, the cunning Oliver Dain and the hypocritical Abbot de St. Angeli, who meets a thoroughly deserved death in a dungeon. Far too much of Volume I, however, is spent on the barely relevant story of Collette des Jambes, mistress of the Duke de Berri.
The Earl of Warwick, whose accustomed demeanour was that of overbearing arrogance, consequent on the pride of unlimited power...and his brothers, John Neville, Lord Montague and the lukewarm George Neville, the Archbishop of York are compellingly and realistically drawn.
In some ways, the novel can be read as one long drawn-out tragedy. From the start, the reader knows the result - the Nevilles are defeated and killed at the Battle of Barnet, the Lancastrian Prince, the Duke of Somerset and others are killed during or after the Battle of Tewkesbury. At the end of 1471 the Yorkists reign supreme. What adds to the 'funeral pyre' are the deaths of the fictitious hero, now Sir Trevor Hastinges, due to wounds received at Tewkesbury; the execution of his grandfather, Sir Leonard Hastinges, the old warrior who had fought for Henry V at Agincourt; and the subsequent decline and death of Trevor's lover, Eleanor Lavenham fifteen years later. Trevor's character is summed up succinctly: he gloried in the cause for which he fought; 'twas the cause of loyalty, the cause which his conscience told him sanctified even the curse of civil war. Eleanor eventually dies, a fearful wreck of mortality...misery and madness had done its work. Only the real-life, but disguised, 10th Baron Henry Clifford is there to be her chief mourner.
The novel has its fair share of 'baddies' - the sneering, base and licentious Nicholas Harpsfield, who had been given the Lavenham estates after the Battle of Towton by a grateful Edward IV and who lusts after Eleanor of Lavenham with imprudent passion; the moody robber chieftain, Lord John de Talbot of Fotheringay - are convincingly drawn. Both die deservedly apt deaths.
Scott's legacy looms large again - the supernatural plays its part in the eastern tower at the manor of Gatebury; an old crone plays her part, too; there are caves and secret passages. At one point, reference is made to Ivanhoe's Front de Boeuf; and Ashby de la Zouch is the rendezvous for the Lancastrians prior to the Barnet campaign. Michel is good in describing both the battles of Barnet and Tewkesbury, particularly the latter.
Again the weaving of fiction with fact is, by and large, competent. However, as with his previous novel, it gets bogged down in slightly repetitious byways and jumps to a totally different scenario e.g after the long period describing matters in France, suddenly in Chapter IX we are confronted with the tears of the widow of Lavenham...Who is she?! There are clunking sentences - As mentioned in a previous chapter. Michel also feels the necessity (as in his previous novel) to extol the virtues of women per se. Was he writing with someone particularly in mind?
The author, as in Henry of Monmouth, feels the need to comment on his own contemporary affairs.
Alas! the short-sightedness of Man! There are those in my native land, who would gladly unsheath the sword in civil war; there are those, who, regardless of what the history of our own country teaches, caring not to look at the fearful example set us by a neighbouring state, would throw England into convulsion to establish some theoretic or visionary scheme! What benefits so great would compensate for one collision between hostile armies in our native country? Is there a man bold enough, or bad enough, to say, that aught could compensate England for such a curse? Michel asks, Was England free when the head of Charles rolled on the scaffold? Was France free when Louis the Sixteenth perished?...Is France now more free than when she ejected Charles of Bourbon from the throne? He castigates Cromwell - the tyrant rule of a soldier chief...to what height of crime and eventual wretchedness did not ambition carry him; and the unmitigated despotism of Charles II. He takes a swipe at the Chartist legions.
Towards the end of the book, Michel explains the aim of his novels: the author is desirous throughout any work that may issue from his pen, truly to delineate all historical facts connected with the times of which he may treat; that those who read his pages may rise from their perusal with a more ample and faithful knowledge of such events as he may have endeavoured to describe, than they had previously possessed. The author abjures the beaten track, which delineating historical characters under false colours, betrays the readers into an ignorance more gross, than even an absolute want of knowledge could produce. Fair enough. In fact, I think he achieves his aim.
It is ironic that whilst the Earl of March was the hero in the author's previous novel, his namesake (now Edward IV) is clearly cast as a villain in this one.
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