Review: Madrigal

Christophe Medler, Madrigal (2021)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58362013-madrigal?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=YVwtxOo6VP&rank=1

1642, England is in the midst of civil war. The king is weak, following first one policy, then another. The confusion of the period has spawned spies, plots and conspiracies. Sir Robert Douse learns that six men have a secret plan, code-named ‘Madrigal’, which promises to end the conflict and keep the king on the throne.
It reads like a detective story, uncovering the Madrigal plot clue by clue, which is quite exciting, with an exciting conclusion. Historically, in fact, there was a similar plot, referred to as the ‘Waller Plot’, recounted here as ‘Crisp’s Plot’, intended to restore London to the Royalists, and a number of characters in this novel played a role in this. This is a wonderful literary device—taking something from actual history and fictionalising it, maybe even ‘sexing it up (figuratively)’.
17th century language—‘good sir’, ‘how goes thee’, ‘pray what’–is used only sporadically. Nonetheless, Medler beautifully portrays the period. We get a feel for what everyday life must have been like during this upheaval–leaving windows open so one could easily escape if Roundheads raided the place; the necessity of acquiring permission from Parliament to enter London; the wait for sometimes weeks to hear the outcome of a battle. Not to mention the normal things like how they spent Christmas, how they made ink. In no other book have I read of the labour it took to fill those copper bathtubs, nor of how good it felt to undo the buckles on one’s breeches after a long ride, nor of how a highwayman can distinguish whether his victim is a Parliamentarian or a Cavalier!
We get a sense of just how much partisans, as they travelled from battle to battle, relied for billeting on safe houses, sympathetic estate-owners and loyal innkeepers along the way. It must have required substantial intelligence to know which venues held to which side; it is also testament to the author’s superb research.
The text is illustrated, in beautiful black and white drawings, to show what the Boar’s Head Inn, Lincoln’s Inn, a 17th century print shop, a ‘molly house’, etc. looked like.
Such a fabulous subject matter, yet the text could have benefitted from some tighter editing.
Minor points: why would the Parliamentary spy Marchal reveal crucial clues on his deathbed? I don’t think even nobility back then would have referred to the king as ‘Charles’. They didn’t refer to the Virgin Queen as ‘Queen Elizabeth I’; II hadn’t existed yet. The word ‘sadomasochism’ hadn’t been invented yet. The ‘Doomsday Book’ is spelled ‘Domesday’. At the first mention of ‘the Rump’, we probably need a bit of explanation.
Major plot flaws are: if Robert is loyal to the king’s cause, why would he be keen to intercept a plot designed to bolster the king? Why is so much attention given to discovering who are the parties involved in the plot and where the pieces of paper are on which the document is written, without finding out what the plan of the plot actually is? The ‘Waller Plot’ planned an armed invasion of London. We never hear what Madrigal intended.
Britain during the Glorious Revolution was in a state of ‘dual power’; people were crying out for democracy, and the bourgeoisie were chafing for power. Whatever conspiracies did or did not succeed, the revolutionary upsurge would have found some other way to surface. And in fact, something like the Madrigal compromise did happen, with the restoration of Charles II, a key architect of which was Fairfax, one of the Madrigal conspirators. However, this reaction was due more to the weakness of Britain’s bourgeois class than to any spies or conspiracies. But, it’s a novel, not a history book. The premise of this novel is wonderful. It is not far from what really happened and is well worth the read for historical fiction lovers.