It was here that the head of the house of Morrel, fearing lest the report of his financial distress should get bruited abroad at Ma.r.s.eilles, came to sell his wife"s and daughter"s jewels, and a portion of his plate.
This fair of Beaucaire attracted a great number of merchants of all branches of trade, who arrived by water and by road, lining the banks of the Rhone from Arles to Beaucaire, and its transpontine neighbour, Tarascon, which Daudet has made famous.
Caderousse, the innkeeper, visited this fair, as we learn, "in company with a man who was evidently a stranger to the south of France; one of those merchants who come to sell jewelry at the fair of Beaucaire, and who, during the month the fair lasts, and during which there is so great an influx of merchants and customers from all parts of Europe, often have dealings to the amount of one hundred thousand to one hundred and fifty thousand francs (4,000 to 6,000)."
That Dumas was a great traveller is well known and substantiated by the records he has left.
When living at Toulon in the spring of 1835, as he himself tells us, he first came into possession of the facts which led to the construction of "Gabriel Lambert."
There was doubtless much of truth in the tale, which appears not to be generally known to English readers, and it is more than probable that much of the incident was originally related to Dumas by the "governor of the port."
Dumas was living at the time in a "small suburban house," within a stone"s throw of Fort Lamalge, the prison, hard at work on his play of "Captain Paul"--though, as he says, he was greatly abstracted from work by the "contemplation of the blue Mediterranean spangled with gold, the mountains that blind in their awful nakedness, and of the sky impressive in its depth and clearness."
The result of it all was that, instead of working at "Captain Paul" (Paul Jones), he left off working at all, in the daytime,--no infrequent occurrence among authors,--and, through his acquaintance with the governor, evolved the story of the life-history of "Gabriel Lambert."
"Murat" was the single-worded t.i.tle given by Dumas to what is perhaps the most subtle of the "Crimes Celebres." He drew his figures, of course, from history, and from a comparatively near view-point, considering that but twenty-five years had elapsed since the death of his subject.
Ma.r.s.eilles, Provence, Hyeres, Toulon, and others of those charming towns and cities of the Mediterranean sh.o.r.e, including also Corsica, form the rapid itinerary of the first pages.
For the action itself, it resembles nothing which has gone before, or which is so very horrible. It simply recounts the adventures and incidents in the life of the Marshal of France which befel his later years, and which culminated in his decapitated head being brought before the King of Naples as the only a.s.surance which would satisfy him that Murat was not an adventurer and intriguer.
There is a pleasant little town in the Midi of France by the name of Cahors. It is a historic town as well; in fact, it was part of the dowry which Henri de Navarre was to receive when he married Marguerite.
The circ.u.mstance is recounted by Dumas in "The Forty-Five Guardsmen," and extends to some length in the most marvellously descriptive dialogue.
"The poor Henri de Navarre," as Dumas called him, "was to receive as his wife"s dowry three hundred thousand golden crowns and some towns, among them Cahors.
""A pretty town, _mordieu_!"
""I have claimed not the money, but Cahors."
""You would much like to hold Cahors, Sire?"
""Doubtless; for, after all, what is my princ.i.p.ality of Bearn? A poor little place, clipped by the avarice of my mother-in-law and brother-in-law."
""While Cahors--"
""Cahors would be my rampart, the safeguard of my religion."
""Well, Sire, go into mourning for Cahors; for, whether you break with Madame Marguerite or not, the King of France will never give it to you, and unless you take it--"
""Oh, I would soon take it, if it was not so strong, and, above all, if I did not hate war."
""Cahors is impregnable, Sire."
""Oh! impregnable! But if I had an army, which I have not--"
""Listen, Sire. We are not here to flatter each other. To take Cahors, which is held by M. de Vezin, one must be a Hannibal or a Caesar; and your Majesty--"
""Well?" said Henri, with a smile.
""Has just said you do not like war."...
""Cahors is so well guarded, because it is the key of the south.""
Chapter fifty-three of the above book recounts the siege itself,--as we know it in history,--but with all that added picturesqueness which Dumas commanded.
""Henri will not pay me his sister"s dowry, and Margot cries out for her dear Cahors. One must do what one"s wife wants, for peace"s sake; therefore I am going to try to take Cahors."...
"Henri set off at full gallop, and Chicot followed him. On arriving in front of his little army, Henri raised his visor, and cried:
""Out with the banner! out with the new banner!"
"They drew forth the banner, which had the double scutcheon of Navarre and Bourbon; it was white, and had chains of gold on one side, and _fleurs-de-lis_ on the other.
"Again the cannon from Cahors were fired, and the b.a.l.l.s tore through a file of infantry near the king....
""Oh!" cried M. de Turenne, "the siege of the city is over, Vezin." And as he spoke he fired at him and wounded him in the arm....
""You are wrong, Turenne," cried M. de Vezin; "there are twenty sieges in Cahors; so, if one is over, there are nineteen to come."
"M. de Vezin defended himself during five days and nights from street to street and from house to house. Luckily for the rising fortunes of Henri of Navarre, he had counted too much on the walls and garrison of Cahors, and had neglected to send to M. de Biron....
"During these five days and nights, Henri commanded like a captain and fought like a soldier, slept with his head on a stone, and awoke sword in hand. Each day they conquered a street or a square, which each night the garrison tried to retake. On the fourth night the enemy seemed willing to give some rest to the Protestant army. Then it was Henri who attacked in his turn. He forced an intrenched position, but it cost him seven hundred men. M. de Turenne and nearly all the officers were wounded, but the king remained untouched."
The Pyrenean city of Pau is more than once referred to by Dumas in the Valois romances, as was but natural, considering that its ancient chateau was the _berceau_ of that Prince of Bearn who later married the intriguing Marguerite, and became ultimately Henri IV.
This fine old structure--almost the only really splendid historical monument of the city--had for long been the residence of the Kings of Navarre; was rebuilt in the fourteenth century by the brilliant Gaston Phoebus; and enlarged and luxuriously embellished by the beautiful Marguerite herself in the sixteenth century, after she had become _la femme de Henri d"Albert_, as her spouse was then known.
As might be expected, Dumas was exceedingly familiar with the suburban topography of Paris, and made frequent use of it in his novels.
It is in "The Count of Monte Cristo," however, that this intimacy is best shown; possibly for the reason that therein he dealt with times less remote than those of the court romances of the "Valois" and the "Capets."
When Dantes comes to Paris,--as the newly made count,--he forthwith desires to be ensconced in an establishment of his own. Dumas recounts the incident thus:
""And the cards I ordered to be engraved as soon as you knew the number of the house?"
""M. le Comte, it is done already. I have been myself to the best engraver of the Palais Royal, who did the plate in my presence. The first card struck off was taken, according to your orders, to M. le Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussee d"Antin, No. 7."...
"As the steward had said, the notary awaited him in the small salon. He was a simple-looking lawyer"s clerk, elevated to the extraordinary dignity of a provincial scrivener.
""You are the notary empowered to sell the country-house that I wish to purchase, monsieur?" asked Monte Cristo.