A NEW HISTORICAL NOVEL.*
THERE are, we believe, people who regard the production of an effective historical novel as one of the easiest of imaginative tasks, for the reason that the writer has his work half-done for him. The ordinary novelist—such is the plea—has to invent his story as well as to tell it ; whereas, the more fortunate historical romancer has his general scheme, his leading situations, his dramatic crisis, and his d4nouement, more or less hilly provided, and nothing is left for him to do but to amalgamate his materials in a shapely narrative. The reasoning sounds plausible enough to all persons save one ; but the one happens to be the only person who can appraise its worth or its worthlessness,—the artistic producer himself. He knows what the outsider cannot know,—that the imagination works most freely when it has to do every- thing for itself, and that what seems an aid is really a fetter and an incumbrance. Blake, whose most characteristic pic- torial work was of imagination all compact, confessed with naive simplicity that he found Nature "in his way," and what Nature was to Blake, history has been to many a writer of fiction. Indeed it is noteworthy that, as a rule, the really effective historical novels are those in which historical facts are treated with the greatest freedom ; and the exception is a book which satisfies the lover of pure romance without indulging in some freak which the painfully conscientious student of history regards as little less than an outrage.
There is a very fair number of good historical novels; but those of them which are equally good in their history and their fiction can probably be counted on the fingers of both hands, and we think that Mrs. Strain's story, A Man's Foes, has a just claim to be added to the short list. It appears, from a letter published in a morning paper, that the author is not the first novelist who has recently chosen the defence and relief of the city of Derry as a narrative theme; but we agree with the critic whose remarks elicited the communica- tion, in thinking it strange that such choice has not been more frequent. The materials, unlike those provided by the struggle between Charles and his Parliament, or the events of the French Revolution, do not straggle; they are arranged compactly in convenient compass both of time and locality ; and therefore the writer who deals with them escapes the obvious risks of artistic selection from a wide and embarrass- ingly crowded field of historical incident. It is, however, one thing to have a good opportunity, and another to know how to utilise it ; and to the student of the architecture of fiction, A Man's Foes is specially attractive in virtue of the skill with which the author has laid out her ground.plan.
• A Man'. Foes. By E. H. Strain. 3V01,. London: Ward, Lock, and Bowden.
The book has of course been written for the sake of the chapters dealing with the siege itself, which occupy the third volume, and the author has therefore had the difficult task of arousing and sustaining interest in the narrative which leads up to the great crisis, and yet of treating that narrative with such restraint that the crisis, when it comes, shall miss nothing of the effect of climax. This difficulty is admirably overcome. There is none of the fumbling, the wearisome getting under way, which, especially in this class of story, betrays the worker who has yet to acquire mastery of his craft. The story opens at the house of Captain James Hamilton, who has for his guests Lord Mountjoy, Colonel Lundy—afterwards to become infamous for his attempted traitorous surrender of Derry — and various more or leas distinguished Protestant officers of King James's Army. With real, power of dramatic presentation, the author enables us to realise the historical situation,—the doubt, the hesitation, the suspicion, the embryo disaffection, existing among those who were to all appearance the loyal supporters of the King whose commission they bore. The outspokenness of Hamilton precipitates a crisis in which Lundy prepares us for the part he is afterwards to play upon a larger stage ; and from this page onward the action knows no pause until the gates of Derry are shut in the face of the besiegers, and the memorable events of the great struggle crowd upon each other in every chapter.
In limited space detailed comment is impossible; but we can remember hardly any novel in which a series of stirring incidents is rendered with more impressive veracity of broad effect, and in which, at the same time, single characters or episodes stand out with more arresting saliency. The escape of Hamilton from Cloncally, the defence of the beleaguered house, the adventurous sally of Mrs. Hamilton from the city surrounded by its foes, the episodes of terrible privation and heroic endurance, all fascinate the imagination and linger in the memory ; but the whole is really finer than any of the parts, and it is this organic integrity of the book which does most to inspire us with hopes for its writer's literary future. It seems to give some assurance that Mrs. Strain can continue as she has begun ; and if this should prove to be the case, the ranks of English living novelists have received a valuable accession. She has certainly a fine feeling for narrative-form ; she has command both of pictorial and dramatic elements of in- terest; and various passages in the book—especially those in which the resourceful Gorman O'Cahan makes his appear- ance—have that simple unstrained humour, the absence of which mars the satisfying quality of imaginative work which is in other respects all that is to be desired. Our only ground of complaint worth mentioning is that we have rather too much of the obstinate bigot Hewson. He doubtless represents a local and contemporary type, and his portrait is drawn with a good deal of mordant cleverness, but his prominence is hardly justified by his part in the action, though we expressly except from this criticism the scene with the strawberries which Mrs. Hamilton has smuggled into the starving city, in which he plays his part with a delightful combination of boorishness and dignity, humour and pathos.
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