Kirkus评论

First published in England in 1932--one of a fictional quartet having to do with the dismal 17th-century fortunes of Charles I--this is still a seaworthy, grandly romantic, and meticulously crafted novel that focuses more on the play of personalities than scholarly mine-sweeps. Princess Louise is one of the daughters of Charles I's sister Elizabeth, the handsome Queen of Bohemia whose ""court"" is in Holland. Among those visiting or in residence: the Queen's son Rupert, a famed Royalist commander; wily Edward Hyde, Chancellor of a non-existent Exchequer, future adviser to the young exiled Charles II; Amelia, Dowager Princess of Orange, mother of mild Prince William, detested by her daughter-in-law Mary (daughter of Charles I); and, of course, Prince Charles himself, about to become a king-without-a-throne upon his father's execution--and the world's most eligible bachelor. Elizabeth plots for her charming and wise little daughter Sophie as bride; Amelia puts forth one of her less appealing offspring; Charles is attentive to Sophie--to a point--but she warily senses his yen to manipulate. Meanwhile James Graham, the Marquis of Montrose, comes to town with Restoration plans, but increasingly he is drawn to Louise--eager, impulsive, an artist who wishes for the freedom of a man. Their initial exchanges range from the bantering to the philosophical. Later, love will be threaded with despair: Louise is conscious of the murderous reality of the outside world, and the capriciousness of private events; Montrose, a widower and veteran of wars, foresees the bloodletting ahead. And both, while seeing the doom to come, have a chivalric respect for the sensitivities of the other: ""She might not be the young man she had wished,"" thinks Montrose admiringly, ""but she was a gentleman."" Irwin focuses headline events mainly through quiet scenes among the greats, including one nervy dialogue between Charles II and Montrose; history may be fudged a bit, but never more than necessary to keep the characters lively and bright. In all: old-fashioned grandstand heroics, costumed in taste and energy--and a most welcome alternative (for 17th-century English doings) to Annette Motley's turgid The Quickenberry Tree (p. 270). Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.