Hodder & Stoughton | 2018 (22 February) | 294p | Review copy | Buy the book
It is 1888 and Major George ‘Zulu’ Hart has returned to England a war hero, decorated with the Victoria Cross. He brings with him his wife and their young child. One would think that they would be ready for a well-deserved rest, but George wishes he were on another fighting commission abroad, and he is well aware that he and his wife are far too profligate for his salary. So he has no choice but to accept his new mission, as unusual as it may seem. Hart is asked to keep the Prince of Wales’s son Prince Albert, known to everyone as Eddy, safe for a year. The Prince, a cavalry officer in George’s regiment, a charismatic, handsome and likeabale man, lives on the edge of scandal. He and his friends frequent London’s male brothels and are seen out and about in Whitechapel, one of London’s most poverty-stricken areas. It’s only a matter of time before Eddy’s behaviour brings disgrace on the royal family.
The timing couldn’t be worse. Irish nationalism is on the rise and its threat has reached London. Prince Eddy is a target for Irish assassins. And the streets of London are restless. A killer is slaughtering Whitechapel’s female prostitutes in the worst of ways. He is known as Jack the Ripper and the rumours surrounding his identity are growing out of control. Major George Hart has no choice but to suspect the worst.
The Prince and the Whitechapel Murders is the third ‘Zulu’ novel by military historian Saul David but this stand alone novel represents a bit of a change for the author. There are no battles to fight here, no recognisable enemy. Instead, what we have is a stand alone Victorian murder mystery featuring a military hero who now has to play detective but must also play a social game. This story also gives George a chance to find out more about the Duke of Cambridge, the man he believes to be his father, and this adds a welcome personal element to the novel’s development.
The relationship between George and the Prince is arguably the most appealing aspect of the novel. There is an etiquette of behaviour demanded by the Prince’s royal position but there is also the matter of army rank – George Hart outranks Prince Eddy and there is a real tension from this that I found fascinating. The novel moves between different worlds – the regulated army, the police investigation into the Ripper murders, the stews of Whitechapel, its brothels and also the pubs where men meet to plot harm. The most vividly depicted are the streets of Whitechapel. The fact that we know what happened to Jack the Ripper’s latest victims, and who they were, adds foreboding.
The investigation into the identity of Jack the Ripper forms the heart of the novel and there are some intriguing suggestions made. I did guess the outcome as presented here very early on and so I’m not sure that it works especially well as a whodunnit but the novel does capture well the squalor of Whitechapel and the constraints of the police investigation.
I found much of the novel rather cold and clinical. I never warmed to George Hart. His family plays very little part in the proceedings and the other relationships in the novel are emotionless. There is a major crime in the book, apart from the Jack the Ripper murders, which is truly horrifying and shocking and yet it’s almost brushed aside.
The Prince and the Whitechapel Murders takes as its subject one of the most infamous and terrible crimes of the Victorian age and adds to it the rather less well known activity of the Irish Fenians as well as the scandalous behaviour of the Queen’s eldest grandson. Major George Hart is thrown into the midst of it all. Possibly there is too much plot for a relatively short novel to juggle but it certainly deals with a fascinating time and raises some interesting themes about Victorian society, morality, politics and murder.