Last month I posted a page on Mary Stewart’s 1961 novel The Ivy Tree and hosted a guest review of the book by Annabel Frazer. Earlier today I ran a post showing details of some book art for The Ivy Tree. With this post I want to share a little more information on the book for keen Mary Stewart fans like myself who will have read the novel – possibly multiple times – so please be aware that THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS.
Embed from Getty Images
You are now on the SPOILER side of Hadrian’s Wall – don’t say you weren’t warned!
Over the years I have read many suggestions that The Ivy Tree is more sombre than Mary Stewart’s other works of suspense, and that perhaps the writer had wished to dispense with a ‘happy ever after’ ending. The most prominent article to take this approach is ‘Mary Queen of Hearts’, by Professor FWJ Hemmings in the New Statesman, 5 November 1965, which includes this on The Ivy Tree:
An intelligent writer is bound occasionally to rebel against the servitude of success, and once in her career Mrs Stewart seems to have tried to kick over the traces: The Ivy Tree, her longest and most intricately plotted book… looks as though it was planned as a break and a possible new departure. It is quite as exciting as any of the others, the character-drawing is as secure, but the atmosphere lacks the sunny serenity, the sense of ‘it’ll all come right in the end, which steers the others out of tragic depths. It does all come right in the end, of course, but it was clearly not meant to, and I think it would have been more interesting if it hadn’t.
Quoted in Contemporary Literary Criticism, Vol 7
There are also reviews with an emphasis on Gothic tropes suggesting that the book boils down to, as this (spoilerific and rather unenthusiastic) review by Jo Walton on Tor.com puts it:
There’s a girl and a house, and the girl’s reward and meaningful relationship is the house.
How do these suggestions fit with Mary Stewart’s intentions, as shown in her manuscript papers held at the National Library of Scotland? Firstly, please note that the relevant items in the NLS do not contain any of the author’s initial notes and ideas for this novel: the earliest draft is a complete typescript, albeit with copious inserts, annotations and scored through sections. So I do not claim to know Mary Stewart’s original ideas for The Ivy Tree. But I can state that the changes in her manuscript flow in the opposite direction to that assumed by reviewers, and also that the earlier draft includes a rejection of ‘the house’.
Mary Stewart’s earlier typescript is different in minor and major ways from her published novel. But the central romance is exactly the same. Having been apart and unhappy for the best part of a decade, our lovers are re-united. There is no indication in the papers held in the NLS that Mary Stewart ever thought of keeping the two apart.
The massive change from draft to publication concerns Con. There is the horseshoe, there is Rowan, but there is no death!
‘Well,’ said the doctor briskly, ‘that’s all I can do till we get an X-ray. Something to lay him on, please. A table-top, a wire mattress…’
Adam’s arm around me had grown rigid.
‘You mean he isn’t dead?’
‘Not a bit of it,’ said Dr Wilson. ‘A glancing blow and a nasty cut, and plenty blood, but I don’t find any sign of a fracture there.’
I said thankfully: ‘Oh Adam, oh Adam, he isn’t dead!’
So keeping Con alive was Mary Stewart’s plan, although he does not survive in the final published version. Hemming’s phrase, ‘It does all come right in the end, of course, but it was clearly not meant to’, is a false assumption.
Keeping the villain alive presents its own problems of course, because of the time in which the book was written*. Mary Stewart includes the following information at the end of the typescript:
Plotting Mar 8 – Apr 17 1959. 1st draft finished Aug 22 1959. 2nd draft finished Aug 12 1960.
But capital punishment in Great Britain was not abolished until 1965, with the last executions, by hanging, taking place in 1964.
So if Mary Stewart let her villain live, was she condemning him to hang instead? Not in the typescript. Instead he was to be allowed to walk free. This necessitated several pages on how this could possibly work. Julie would be safe because she would be abroad with her husband so much of the time:
‘He’ll take her away from Whitescar… and spend half the year in a tent somewhere, digging… Uzbekistan, for instance, or the Desert of Lop if the Romans went there
And in any case, Con would have no need to plot or murder because Annabel planned to give him everything. Con would have Whitescar, she and Adam would have the West Lodge and:
‘My money goes to Con by deed of gift, and if I die before five years are up, he’ll have to pay death duties,’ I laughed. ‘And by that time, no doubt, we’ll have found a way to get on.’
This is quite astonishing. Mary Stewart evidently dearly wanted a ‘happy ever after’ for everyone. Nor is she interested in gaining ‘the house’ (whether Whitescar or a restored Forrest Hall) for Annabel. Without wanting to insert spoilers for any other of her novels, that visitors to this blog may not have read, I think there is something here that is reminiscent of Touch Not the Cat. Yet, having created this version of The Ivy Tree, Mary Stewart must have realised that it simply would not work. Con does not survive the next typescript and ‘poor Lisa’ leaves for Ireland.
I don’t think I have finished with The Ivy Tree quite yet, there are themes and characters and manuscript/published novel changes that I am itching to discuss but I have gone on long enough tonight. What are your thoughts on what I have just shared? I do hope I haven’t put anyone off the novel! Personally, I am fascinated by the evolution of each of Mary Stewart’s novels, and I’m amazed at what she first attempted to write regarding Con. Do let me know your views.
* My whole thinking in this section was flawed, as Rosetta very nicely points out in the comments. Attempted murder would not have led to hanging, as it ceased being a capital offence in 1861! This leaves me more curious than ever as to why Mary Stewart ended the book as she did in that earlier draft. All suggestions welcome!
Mary Queen of Plots 
I’m finding it fascinating to see how the novels evolved – thank you so much for sharing it with us. There is certainly a mix of endings for the villains across the novels (trying to avoid spoilers here) – some are killed, some arrested and some do actually get away – and they do seem (to me at least) to line up with the villain themselves (at least one definitely would have preferred to die than be arrested). I wonder how much their nature dictated the ending?
LikeLiked by 4 people
You’re welcome, Laura, and I love your comment – I have never really thought through the fates of the villains before, I’m going to enjoy mulling over your question. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 2 people
This is fascinating, thank you so much for sharing all this with us. The fact that Con was not originally intended to die is a revelation. I can’t help being glad he did – he deserved it and I simply can’t imagine him and Annabel living side by side, farming their separate smallholdings in chilly amicability.
Laura’s point about the fates of the villains is also a really intriguing angle on this. I must admit I am foxed by the point of which one would have preferred to die. I am going to go away and think about that one.
I am really hoping that there are more revelations to come about The Ivy Tree, Allison – don’t stop now!
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re welcome, I really enjoy reading through the manuscripts and it’s great to be able to share what I find. I don’t think MS had much choice with her villain, it would have been an unrealistic ending to have them all as good neighbours – but it pleases me that she tried to write a way out of his death.
As for villains preferring to die than be arrested, one who springs to mind for me would be in Nine Coaches Waiting, he couldn’t bear the thought of being diminished or humiliated (sorry to be vague, I’m trying to avoid spoilers so not using names). Have you thought of any others?
I will post again about the Ivy Tree papers but there are no other major revelations, I’m afraid.
LikeLiked by 3 people
That’s exactly who I was thinking of too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love your blog post, as always!
Query – can see villain in this case would have been hanged for murder at the time, but would that also have been the case for attempted murder? Did that count as a capital crime?
Can’t see how he could be left alive. Don’t think he’d ever forgive Annabel for not wanting him & choosing the person she does love! Don’t think she’d ever be safe from him.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Argh, you are right Rosetta, attempted murder would not lead to hanging, and I knew that if I had stopped to think! I latched on to the hanging idea as just about the only reason I could think of for the ending Mary Stewart provides in her earlier draft. So that wasn’t the reason behind why MS did not want her villain to die… I am more curious than ever about why she wanted to spare him so much that she wrote such an unrealistic ending – as you say, he was much too dangerous to have around…
Much food for thought! Thanks, Rosetta!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s no good, I really am going to have to reread the book now to see if I can work out why! (Oh, what a hardship! )
Apologies for throwing a spanner in the works with my previous comment! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Is it wrong that I am so delighted you are going to re-read The Ivy Tree? And please don’t apologise, I’m glad you spotted my mistake.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So that wasn’t the reason behind why MS did not want her villain to die… I am more curious than ever about why she wanted to spare him so much that she wrote such an unrealistic ending – as you say, he was much too dangerous to have around…
Much food for thought!
I am really hoping that there are more revelations to come about The Ivy Tree, Allison – don’t stop now!
LikeLike
Sorry I haven’t replied before now – I have just found your comment now as for some reason it was placed in spam. Thanks very much for getting in touch. It is intriguing that Mary Stewart wanted to save Con so badly, I wish I knew her reasons. I’m afraid there aren’t other revelations to come but I may well blog about The Ivy Tree again because there are a few interesting differences between the manuscripts and the final printed version – I think they are interesting anyway! Watch this space!
LikeLike
Laura’s point about the fates of the villains is also a really intriguing angle on this. Thanks very much for getting in touch.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Does anyone know exactly where this book was set? Every time I read it(many many times) I do a little more research and I have narrowed the location down a bit. Like I know when Annabel was sitting dreaming of Adam she was above sycamore gap on Hadrian’s Wall. I know that Forrest Hall must be somewhere near both Bellingham and Westwoodburn. I know Mary Stewart bases her settings on real places, and even if she picked up the Hall and Whitescar and changed their location, I just KNOW they must be real places she visited and became inspired by! What are your thoughts? I SO want to see the real places if they exist!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hello Sally, thanks for contacting me, it is lovely to meet another fan of Mary Stewart’s writing. My blog is inactive but I am now – finally – picking up the comments and questions that have been posted on here, apologies that this has taken me so long. I have tried to work out exact locations for her books too but I think sometimes she had distances narrow or widen for her own purposes. But I do know the answer for Forrest Hall – it was based on Eden Hall which was demolished in the 1930s. You can read about this, and see a picture of Eden Hall here: https://marystewartreading.wordpress.com/2016/12/16/a-merry-mary-stewart-christmas-december-3/
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m late to the party but I just reread The Ivy Tree after many years and was happy to find this article with more insight on the plot.
I can understand why MS originally wanted to save Con. He was a complex character with a mix of good and bad qualities. She made it obvious throughout the book that he was an extremely hard worker who cared deeply about Whitescar and poured his life’s work into it, and that his contributions were unfairly undervalued by her grandfather. In contrast, Annabelle didn’t care overly much about Whitescar itself; she came back for the people – for her grandfather, for Julie, and of course for Adam. In theory, if he could have Whitescar, he would no longer be a danger to her; so it would have been neatly wrapped up if he could have Whitescar and she could have Adam.
But after he tried to kill both Julie and Annabelle, I do think he had to go. He could never be truly forgiven or trusted. Still, of all MS’s villains, he is the one I found the most complex and sympathetic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hello DW, well I’m late to the party myself – I’m afraid I am not active on my blog at present and I am only just picking up your comment now. I agree with all you write about Con. Con and Donald’s characters are fleshed out so much more than that of Adam, aren’t they?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Despite Con’s violent nature, he was damned sexy. If Adam could be unfaithful to his wife, could not Annabel do the same?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha, this made me snort with laughter! Thanks for your comment, Carolyn. I think Annabel saw beneath Con’s charisma and was never tempted by him – the heart wants what the heart wants and she always wanted Adam. Con was exciting and (in my head) absolutely gorgeous but his instinct was to be cruel rather than kind. Nicely contrasted by Donald and the kindness of his clandestine cat-feeding!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It would have been interesting if Con had lived. Perhaps with the farm, his ambition would be satisfied and he wouldn’t have tried to murder anyone any more. Or perhaps he could have been crippled by his injuries – ended up in a wheelchair perhaps. He could still have run the farm, and Lisa would be very happy looking after him, But I don’t think Annabel should have given him all her money – that’s taking forgiveness a bit too far. Half maybe.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Louise, thanks for the interesting comments! It is fascinating to think out alternative ways the novel might have ended. I like that Annabel was happy to make her own way in life rather than cling on to inheritance, and Con certainly worked hard on the farm – but it seems wrong to me that someone who was prepared to kill for what he wanted should be rewarded.
LikeLike
What a fascinating series of comments. For one who has reread Mary Stewart’s “Ivy Tree” an embarrassing number of times, I’ve greatly enjoyed all of these comments. I do see that most responders are women and from the UK, so here’s a man’s take coming from New England.
Yes, Connor hast to die. As Annabel says “he chances his arm, does Connor.” I think Annabel is quite serious and Adam takes a while to fully believe her. As one reader pointed out, Con will not forgive Annabel for playing him for the fool. She’s truly frightened of him.
On rereading the novel, I get more and more impatient with Mary Grey’s masquerade. I suspected her fairly early on. Frequently her experiences and memories could not be those of an imposter. And don’t let Mary Grey’s/Annabel’s first reaction to Rowan and Blondie throw you off; she’s really panicked to learn that Adam’s home. On her way in to see her “granda” I especially love her pause by the casement to let out the bee: “time ran down to nothing; stood still; ran back. The moment snapped.” Only the real Annabel would make that observation. And her earlier greeting with Betsy Bates in the kitchen. Wonderful, but not for Mary Grey, though Stewart tries to cover for her. And much later, how many readers are just so thrilled with her early morning ride on Rowan? Now the considerably slipping mask is finally off.
All the characters are wonderfully drawn. Donald is such a “poppet” as Julie says. I love his tender interaction with Tommy the cat. Donald is a wonderful foil for Julie who is such a loving airhead. Thank heavens she has enough self-awareness to chide her cousin’s “Aunt Agatha’s advice to young girls” and to recognize her own romantic obsessions for what they are: “All right. I suppose I do read all the wrong books.”
I suspect Mary Stewart was somewhat in love with her own depiction of her Irish Connor. He’s the devastatingly handsome villain. Stewart repeatedly does this kind of thing with her anti-heroes. It’s nearly a predictable trait of hers, but I forgive it every time. In this case, her affections nearly go too far.
Then there’s the question of Adam. Some readers find him disappointing. Too thinly drawn. Not so. Stewart is in a difficult position with Adam. Not unlike Bronte’s Rochester, Adam has pressured Annabel to be his mistress. Something Jane Eyre and Annabel Winslow will not allow. Thank heavens the letter was lost in the ivy tree. So, there are strikes against Adam. Annabel has been deeply hurt by what she sees as his “cruelty.” We know she’s struggling throughout to reaffirm her conviction that she “really doesn’t care anymore.” But her conviction slips: “I felt something touch me, pierce almost the armour of indifference that the hurt of eight years back had shelled over me like nacre. It was not enough to have learned to live with the memory of his cruelty and indifference; I had still to care.” But so clearly Adam has suffered too. With Adam, Stewarts lets description create character. The reclaimed commercial garden. In her viewing of the disciplined garden, Annabel’s renewed respect for Adam is telling in so many ways: “I reflected that if Adam Forrest and Johnny Rudd kept all this themselves . . . I could hardly taunt him with not understanding meaning of labour.” That taunt tells us more about her own self-pity for having been on her own the last eight years than it does about Adam. And then there’s the telling detail of her response to seeing Adam in gardener’s clothes. She has not bargained on her own social prejudice in seeing the owner of the manor in “rough clothes.” Adam’s packing shed is meticulous. Adam is meticulous. The scene in the packing shed is brilliant. She must remind herself of his suffering. In all his conversations with Annabel, his reserve comes through. He knows—though he learns more deeply as the story develops—how much he has hurt her and how much his despair over Crystal drove him to act irresponsibly. Annabel has been hurt by Adam, but she only now comes to grips with just how much he has suffered. And with commendable insight, she comes to realize how lonely the childless marriage was for Crystal. And the loss of Forrest Hall and the disfiguring of his hands. Adam may be quiet, except when he’s throwing Con into the hazel bushes, but he’s fully formed as a character.
On a different note, I’m interested that no one has commented on the social status that underpins much of the novel. In order to get under her skin, Con, early on notes, that he can’t quite see Annabel working at a coffee shop in “Newcastle.” And then, clearly Con senses his secondary status with Julie when she blows up at him for “assuming” his position at Whitescar. Betsy’s concerned reaction to Annabel for being up so early after her morning ride holds so many layers of societal assumptions of place. Do English readers bridle at this theme at all, or does it just come with the landscape?
But really, I wanted to write about Stewart’s flowers! Her wonderful descriptions. As so many have noted, her sense of place is the best. As a lover of “Jane Eyre,” I really think Stewart is in Bronte’s league. There are so many examples that I could choose, but you all know what I mean. So, here’s a question, has anyone considered putting together an illustrated “Flora-ology” of Stewart’s work? I’ll leave it at that.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Hello Burrett, thank you for sharing your thoughts, this is fascinating. I fully agree with how wonderful Tommy and Donald both are. I don’t read Annabel as a character to indulge in self-pity, I always took ‘understanding the meaning of labour’ as a reference to the rumour that Adam had married for money – he paid for that marriage in many ways (as did Crystal), and his labour/nurturing of his garden can be seen as a sort of atonement and a sign of character development. I am interested in your thoughts on class, certainly Con is acutely aware of class and his position: he would never have served in a cafe as Annabel does; he would have seen that as beneath him. Con worked hard but had also – like young Adam – sought to marry into money, I think security and status were hugely important to him and he was aware that Matthew Winslow would not consider him (Matthew’s great-nephew) as heir above grand-daughters. And I think Julie was quite right to dislike Con’s rudeness to her and Bill Fenwick, I’m not sure that class was a factor in that, although certainly Con would read it that way. And remember Con had at the start of the book given Annabel the impression that he was the owner/master of Whitescar: he had form for behaving as though he rather than Matthew was in charge. I’d be interested to know more of your thoughts on the scene with Betsy to understand what you mean there? (How would the scene differ if this was a housekeeper in an American or Australian household?) And yes, class mores and snobbery are rife in many books – it was Graeme Greene’s Brighton Rock that taught me as a schoolgirl that to pronounce suit as ‘soot’ (as did I and everyone I knew in Scotland) was to condemn me as uneducated… at least when I’d read Famous Five books the cockney (I imagine) accents of the villains were so far from my own that I did not comprehend middle class/working class divides!
Finally, ‘an illustrated “Flora-ology” of Stewart’s work’ – what a wonderful idea!
LikeLike