Dumas' Paris Part 3

Just how far Dumas' literary ability was an inheritance, or growth of his early environment, will ever be an open question. It is a manifest fact that he had breathed something of the spirit of romance before he came to Paris.

Although it was not acknowledged until 1856, "The Wolf-Leader" was a development of a legend told to him in his childhood. Recalling then the incident of his boyhood days, and calling into recognition his gift of improvisation, he wove a tale which reflected not a little of the open-air life of the great forest of Villers-Cotterets, near the place of his birth.

Here, then, though it was fifty years after his birth, and thirty after he had thrust himself on the great world of Paris, the scenes of his childhood were reproduced in a wonderfully romantic and weird tale--which, to the best of the writer's belief, has not yet appeared in English.

To some extent it is possible that there is not a little of autobiography therein, not so much, perhaps, as d.i.c.kens put into "David Copperfield,"

but the suggestion is thrown out for what it may be worth.

It is, furthermore, possible that the historic a.s.sociations of the town of Villers-Cotterets--which was but a little village set in the midst of the surrounding forest--may have been the prime cause which influenced and inspired the mind of Dumas toward the romance of history.

In point of chronology, among the earliest of the romances were those that dealt with the fortunes of the house of Valois (fourteenth century), and here, in the little forest town of Villers-Cotterets, was the magnificent manor-house which belonged to the Ducs de Valois; so it may be presumed that the sentiment of early a.s.sociations had somewhat to do with these literary efforts.

All his life Dumas devotedly admired the sentiment and fancies which foregathered in this forest, whose very trees and stones he knew so well.

From his "Memoires" we learn of his indignation at the destruction of its trees and much of its natural beauty. He says:

"This park, planted by Francois I., was cut down by Louis-Philippe. Trees, under whose shade once reclined Francois I. and Madame d'Etampes, Henri II. and Diane de Poitiers, Henri IV. and Gabrielle d'Estrees--you would have believed that a Bourbon would have respected you. But over and above your inestimable value of poetry and memories, you had, unhappily, a material value. You beautiful beeches with your polished silvery cases!

you beautiful oaks with your sombre wrinkled bark!--you were worth a hundred thousand crowns. The King of France, who, with his six millions of private revenue, was too poor to keep you--the King of France sold you.

For my part, had you been my sole possession, I would have preserved you; for, poet as I am, one thing that I would set before all the gold of the earth: the murmur of the wind in your leaves; the shadow that you made to flicker beneath my feet; the visions, the phantoms, which, at eventide, betwixt the day and night, in the doubtful hour of twilight, would glide between your age-long trunks as glide the shadows of the ancient Abencerrages amid the thousand columns of Cordova's royal mosque."

What wonder, with these lines before one, that the impressionable Dumas was so taken with the romance of life and so impracticable in other ways.

From the fact that no thorough biography of Dumas exists, it will be difficult to trace the fluctuations of his literary career with preciseness. It is not possible even with the twenty closely packed volumes of the "Memoires"--themselves incomplete--before one. All that a biographer can get from this treasure-house are facts,--rather radiantly coloured in some respects, but facts nevertheless,--which are put together in a not very coherent or compact form.

They do, to be sure, recount many of the incidents and circ.u.mstances attendant upon the writing and publication of many of his works, and because of this they immediately become the best of all sources of supply.

It is to be regretted that these "Memoires" have not been translated, though it is doubtful if any publisher of English works could get his money back from the transaction.

Other clues as to his emotions, and with no uncertain references to incidents of Dumas' literary career, are found in "Mes Betes," "Ange Pitou," the "Causeries," and the "Travels." These comprise many volumes not yet translated.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FACSIMILE OF A Ma.n.u.sCRIPT PAGE FROM ONE OF DUMAS' PLAYS]

Dumas was readily enough received into the folds of the great. Indeed, as we know, he made his _entree_ under more than ordinary, if not exceptional, circ.u.mstances, and his connection with the great names of literature and statecraft extended from Hugo to Garibaldi.

As for his own predilections in literature, Dumas' own voice is practically silent, though we know that he was a romanticist pure and simple, and drew no inspiration or encouragement from Voltairian sentiments. If not essentially religious, he at least believed in its principles, though, as a warm admirer has said, "He had no liking for the celibate and bookish life of the churchman."

Dumas does not enter deeply into the subject of ecclesiasticism in France.

His most elaborate references are to the Abbey of Ste. Genevieve--since disappeared in favour of the hideous pagan Pantheon--and its relics and a.s.sociations, in "La Dame de Monsoreau." Other of the romances from time to time deal with the subject of religion more or less, as was bound to be, considering the times of which he wrote, of Mazarin, Richelieu, De Rohan, and many other churchmen.

Throughout the thirties Dumas was mostly occupied with his plays, the predominant, if not the most sonorous note, being sounded by "Antony."

As a novelist his star shone brightest in the decade following, commencing with "Monte Cristo," in 1841, and continuing through "Le Vicomte de Bragelonne" and "La Dame de Monsoreau," in 1847.

During these strenuous years Dumas produced the flower of his romantic garland--omitting, of course, certain trivial and perhaps unworthy trifles, among which are usually considered, rightly enough, "Le Capitaine Paul" (Paul Jones) and "Jeanne d'Arc." At this period, however, he produced the charming and exotic "Black Tulip," which has since come to be a reality. The best of all, though, are admittedly the Mousquetaire cycle, the volumes dealing with the fortunes of the Valois line, and, again, "Monte Cristo."

By 1830, Dumas, eager, as it were, to experience something of the valiant boisterous spirit of the characters of his romances, had thrown himself heartily into an alliance with the opponents of Louis-Philippe. Orleanist successes, however, left him to fall back upon his pen.

In 1844, having finished "Monte Cristo," he followed it by "Les Trois Mousquetaires," and before the end of the same year had put out forty volumes, by what means, those who will read the scurrilous "Fabrique des Romans"--and properly discount it--may learn.

The publication of "Monte Cristo" and "Les Trois Mousquetaires" as newspaper _feuilletons_, in 1844-45, met with amazing success, and were, indeed, written from day to day, to keep pace with the demands of the press.

Here is, perhaps, an opportune moment to digress into the ethics of the profession of the "literary ghost," and but for the fact that the subject has been pretty well thrashed out before,--not only with respect to Dumas, but to others as well,--it might justifiably be included here at some length, but shall not be, however.

The busy years from 1840-50 could indeed be "explained"--if one were sure of his facts; but beyond the circ.u.mstances, frequently availed of, it is admitted, of Dumas having made use of secretarial a.s.sistance in the productions which were ultimately to be fathered by himself, there is little but jealous and spiteful hearsay to lead one to suppose that he made any secret of the fact that he had some very considerable a.s.sistance in the production of the seven hundred volumes which, at a late period in his life, he claimed to have produced.

The "_Maquet affaire_," of course, proclaims the whilom Augustus Mackeat as a _collaborateur_; still the ingenuity of Dumas s.h.i.+nes forth through the warp and woof in an unmistakable manner, and he who would know more of the pros and cons is referred to the "_Maison Dumas et Cie_."

Maquet was manifestly what we have come to know as a "hack," though the species is not so very new--nor so very rare. The great libraries are full of them the whole world over, and very useful, though irresponsible and ungrateful persons, many of them have proved to be. Maquet, at any rate, served some sort of a useful purpose, and he certainly was a confidant of the great romancer during these very years, but that his was the mind and hand that evolved or worked out the general plan and detail of the romances is well-nigh impossible to believe, when one has digested both sides of the question.

An English critic of no inconsiderable knowledge has thrown in his lot recently with the claims of Maquet, and given the sole and entire production of "Les Trois Mousquetaires," "Monte Cristo," "La Dame de Monsoreau," and many other of Dumas' works of this period, to him, placing him, indeed, with Shakespeare, whose plays certain gullible persons believe to have been written by Bacon. The flaw in the theory is apparent when one realizes that the said Maquet was no myth--he was, in fact, a very real person, and a literary personage of a certain ability. It is strange, then, that if he were the producer of, say "Les Trois Mousquetaires," which was issued ostensibly as the work of Dumas, that he wrote nothing under his own name that was at all comparable therewith; and stranger still, that he was able to repeat this alleged success with "Monte Cristo," or the rest of the Mousquetaire series, and yet not be able to do the same sort of a feat when playing the game by himself. One instance would not prove this contention, but several are likely to not only give it additional strength, but to practically demonstrate the correct conclusion.

The ethics of plagiarism are still greater and more involved than those which make justification for the employment of one who makes a profession of _library research_, but it is too involved and too vast to enter into here, with respect to accusations of its nature which were also made against Dumas.

As that new star which has so recently risen out of the East--Mr.

Kipling--has said, "They took things where they found them." This is perhaps truthful with regard to most literary folk, who are continually seeking a new line of thought. Scott did it, rather generously one might think; even Stevenson admitted that he was greatly indebted to Was.h.i.+ngton Irving and Poe for certain of the details of "Treasure Island"--though there is absolutely no question but that it was a sort of unconscious absorption, to put it rather unscientifically. The scientist himself calls it the workings of the subconscious self.

As before said, the Maquet _affaire_ was a most complicated one, and it shall have no lengthy consideration here. Suffice to say that, when a case was made by Maquet in court, in 1856-58, Maquet lost. "It is not justice that has won," said Maquet, "but Dumas."

Edmond About has said that Maquet lived to speak kindly of Dumas, "as did his legion of other _collaborateurs_; and the proudest of them congratulate themselves on having been trained in so good a school." This being so, it is hard to see anything very outrageous or preposterous in the procedure.

Blaze de Bury has described Dumas' method thus:

"The plot was worked over by Dumas and his colleague, when it was finally drafted by the other and afterward _rewritten_ by Dumas."

M. About, too, corroborates Blaze de Bury's statement, so it thus appears legitimately explained. Dumas at least supplied the ideas and the _esprit_.

In Dumas' later years there is perhaps more justification for the thought that as his indolence increased--though he was never actually inert, at least not until sickness drew him down--the authors.h.i.+p of the novels became more complex. Blaze de Bury put them down to the "Dumas-Legion,"

and perhaps with some truth. They certainly have not the vim and fire and temperament of individuality of those put forth from 1840 to 1850.

Dumas wrote fire and impetuosity into the veins of his heroes, perhaps some of his very own vivacious spirit. It has been said that his moral code was that of the camp or the theatre; but that is an ambiguity, and it were better not dissected.

Certainly he was no prude or Puritan, not more so, at any rate, than were Burns, Byron, or Poe, but the virtues of courage, devotion, faithfulness, loyalty, and friends.h.i.+p were his, to a degree hardly excelled by any of whom the written record of _cameraderie_ exists.

Dumas has been jibed and jeered at by the supercilious critics ever since his first successes appeared, but it has not leavened his reputation as the first romancer of his time one single jot; and within the past few years we have had a revival of the character of true romance--perhaps the first _true_ revival since Dumas' time--in M. Rostand's "Cyrano de Bergerac."

We have had, too, the works of Zola, who, indomitable, industrious, and sincere as he undoubtedly was, will have been long forgotten when the masterpieces of Dumas are being read and reread. The Mousquetaire cycle, the Valois romances, and "Monte Cristo" stand out by themselves above all others of his works, and have had the approbation of such discerning fellow craftsmen as George Sand, Thackeray, and Stevenson, all of whom may be presumed to have judged from entirely different points of view.

Thackeray, indeed, plainly indicated his greatest admiration for "La Tulipe Noire," a work which in point of time came somewhat later. At this time Dumas had built his own Chalet de Monte Cristo near St. Germain, a sort of a Gallic rival to Abbotsford. It, and the "Theatre Historique,"

founded by Dumas, came to their disastrous end in the years immediately following upon the Revolution of 1848, when Dumas fled to Brussels and began his "Memoires." He also founded a newspaper called _Le Mousquetaire_, which failed, else he might have retrenched and satisfied his creditors--at least in part.

He travelled in Russia, and upon his return wrote of his journey to the Caspian. In 1860 he obtained an archaeological berth in Italy, and edited a Garibaldian newspaper.

By 1864, the "Director of Excavations at Naples," which was Dumas'

official t.i.tle, fell out with the new government which had come in, and he left his partisan journal and the lava-beds of Pompeii for Paris and the literary arena again; but the virile power of his early years was gone, and Dumas never again wielded the same pen which had limned the features of Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan.

In 1844 Dumas partic.i.p.ated in a sort of personally-conducted Bonapartist tour to the Mediterranean, in company with the son of Jerome Napoleon. On this journey Dumas first saw the island of Monte Cristo and the Chateau d'If, which lived so fervently in his memory that he decided that their personality should be incorporated in the famous tale which was already formulating itself in his brain.