THE QUEEN'S ADVOCATE
(A.L. Burt Co., 1904)
Chase Bergwyn, a British-American adventurer, is doing some prospecting in the hills of Bosnia, when he narrowly rescues a girl out of the clutches of a gang of bandits. It appears that she had been forcibly abducted; and while Bergwyn and his band of picked men attempt to get her to a place of safety, they fall in with a number of adventures. Finally, upon reaching Samac, Bergwyn and the girl are forced to part. Bergwyn soon learns, however, that she is a princess next in succession to the Bosnian throne. When he is made aware that a number of court intrigues endanger her safety, he flies to her rescue. Using his money to gain a footing in the Imperial court, he identifies himself with the military party, which is bent on eliminating the royal house to which the princess belongs. His main concern, at first, is to ensure her safety. After a time, however, he realizes that he really wants to see her barred from the royal succession, so he can claim her for himself. His love is initially reciprocated. But things become impossible when a scheming, conniving woman begins meddling in his affairs. When the army later becomes violent and sanguinary, he rushes to the princess' rescue, fearing that she'll fall a victim to an impending revolution. But will he arrive in time to save her?
This novel is an excellent example of the fast-paced sort of romance beloved by readers about the turn of the last century. It cashes in on America's fascination for Imperial politics, while at the same time catering to the mainstream elements of love and woman-conquest. The book wastes no time in preliminaries, but jumps right into action, and doesn't let up until the story is finished. The adventurous matter is executed a la H. Rider Haggard, and provides a good balance against what might otherwise become insipid and wearisome.
Marchmont's prose runs clear as a crystal stream, and forms probably the most natural style I've come across. It seems as if he is not writing, but speaking to the reader. His prose contains very little ornament, and is wholly geared to story-telling, rather than to any kind of artistic effect. As a British author, he here makes a tactful (and money-wise) decision by making his protagonist a naturalized American citizen. The same year (1904) saw Marchmont's novel By Right of Sword made into a successful Broadway play. Unknown to many, this play was actually filmed; and in the American Memory Collection of the Library of Congress there exists a very short reel depicting an early duel scene. [This reel is viewable online, at the AMC. Type "Marchmont" in the search box]. There is every appearance that Marchmont received more tribute in America than in his own country. Unfortunately, so little is known concerning him, that in recent years he has become a legend among scholars of mystery and adventure fiction. His novels, though often conventional, reflect a fervent imagination and a clever hand.
The literary merits of this novel are few. When all is properly weighed, The Queen's Advocate must be accepted on its own terms. It is basically a story, and a very good one at that. The picture it gives of early 20th century Imperial Europe is both colorful and detailed, and may be of some use to the student of Balkan politics. Of course, it passes, in my opinion, the one true test of all novels. When once picked up, it can't be laid aside. The edition I have contains three illustrations, two of which appear to belong to an entirely different book. As a mass-market hardcover, The Queen's Advocate has little collectors' value, and therefore copies can usually be obtained for under $10. If you're in the mood for lots of artistic fluff, my advice is to weigh anchor and stand out to sea. If, on the other hand, you want a good read, this novel will give you a few days' worth of snug harborage. As reprints are highly unlikely, and numbers growing scarce, now is the best time to pick up your copy of The Queen's Advocate.
--B.A.S.
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