Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 57, No. 351, January 1845

"'But they are four against you,' cried Jussac; 'I order you to desist.'

"'Ah, if you order me, it is another affair!' said Bicarat; 'you are my superior, and I must obey.'

"And giving a spring backwards, he broke his sword across his knee, in order not to yield it up, threw the pieces over the convent wall, and, crossing his arms, whistled a Cardinalist air.

"Courage is always respected even in an enemy. The mousquetaires saluted Bicarat with their swords, and returned them to their scabbards. D'Artagnan did the same, and, assisted by Bicarat, he carried under the convent porch Jussac, Cahusac, and that one of Aramis's adversaries who was only wounded. The other, as already observed, was dead. They then rang the bell, and left the ground; the mousquetaires and D'Artagnan, intoxicated with joy, carrying away four swords out of five, and taking the direction of Monsieur de Treville's hotel. Every mousquetaire whom they met, and informed of what had happened, turned back and accompanied them; so that at last their march was like a triumphal procession. D'Artagnan was beside himself with delight; he walked between Athos and Porthos, holding an arm of each.

"'If I am not yet a mousquetaire,' said he to his new friends, as they crossed the threshold of the Hotel Treville, 'I may at least say that I am received apprentice.'"

The result of this affair is to procure D'Artagnan the favour of Monsieur de Treville and the King — the latter of whom dislikes the Cardinal in secret nearly as much as he fears him. The young Gascon has an audience of Louis the Just, who recruits his finances by the present of a handful of pistoles; and a few days later he is appointed to a cadetship in the company of guards of the Chevalier des Essarts, a brother-in-law of Treville. According to the singular ideas of those days, there was nothing degrading to a gentleman in receiving money from the king's hand. D'Artagnan, therefore, pockets the pistoles with many thanks, and takes an early opportunity of dividing them with his friends with the mythological names, Messieurs Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, who, according to the custom of mousquetaires, have more gold upon their coats than in their purses. The courage and good qualities of the Gascon have won the hearts of the three guardsmen, and he is admitted to make a fourth in their brotherhood, of which the motto is, "Un pour tous, et tous pour un." All is in common amongst them — pleasures, perils, pistoles.

The characters of the three mousquetaires are well sketched and sustained, and illustrate admirably the vices, virtues, and propensities of their time and station. Aramis, who was originally intended for the church, has relinquished the black coat of an abbé in order to fight a nobleman who had insulted him. He still, however, persists in considering himself as a guardsman only pro tempore; and whenever fortune or his mistress frowns upon him, he declares his intention of abandoning his sinful mode of life, and throwing himself into the arms of mother church. Vanity is the failing of Porthos, who shines more by his imposing appearance, brilliant attire, and bull-dog courage, than by any qualities of the head. To Athos, who is the most interesting of the three, a certain mystery is attached, which, however, is seen through early in the book. He is a man of high birth, princely manners, and chivalrous feeling, but whose stormy life has cast a strong tinge of melancholy over his character, and who now finds his sole consolation in the wine-cup. It must not be therefore supposed that Athos is a sot, a wallower in wine, or a haunter of tavern orgies. He drinks, it is true, enough to prostrate any three ordinary men; but he takes his liquor, as he does every thing else, so much like a gentleman, and, moreover, there is so much self-devotion and generosity in his character, such dignity of manner and rectitude of feeling — his temper so even and kindly — his courage so heroic — that he is unquestionably the most amiable and interesting of the dramatis personæ, preferable to D'Artagnan, to whom premature worldly wisdom gives a hardness bordering upon egotism. While Aramis is sighing sonnets to his mistress, and Porthos parading on the crown of the causeway in all the glory of gold lace and embroidery, Athos sits tranquilly at home, and says, like Gregory in the Deserter —

"J'aime mieux boire."

His real name — for Athos, Porthos, and Aramis are merely assumed ones — is known only to the King and to Monsieur de Treville.

It would be difficult within the limits of this paper to give an idea of the entire plot of the Three Mousquetaires, which is, in fact, less a tale with a regular intrigue and dénouement, than a narrative of adventures and incidents, extending over a period of nearly three years. D'Artagnan, whose enterprising character and Gascon acuteness qualify him admirably to take a part in the court intrigues of the time, soon finds himself almost at open war with the Cardinal, and engaged in serving the interests of Louis the Thirteenth's unhappy queen, Anne of Austria, who, by rejecting the suit of the scarlet duke — as the mousquetaires irreverently style the Cardinal Duke of Richelieu — has drawn upon herself the deadly hatred of that omnipotent personage. The Duke of Buckingham, who is madly in love with the queen, visits Paris in disguise, and obtains an interview with her. At parting, he implores her to give him some trifle, which he may preserve as a souvenir of their attachment; and Anne of Austria gives him the first thing that comes to hand, which happens to be a jewel-case, containing twelve diamond clasps or ferrets that she has lately received from the King. The Cardinal, omnipresent by his spies, learns this; manages adroitly to rouse the king's jealousy; and prevails on him to give a ball, at which the queen is desired to appear, wearing the ferrets in question. Anne of Austria is in despair. To obtain the restitution of the jewels within the eight days that have to elapse before the one fixed for the ball, appears impossible. Buckingham is in England; if she writes, her letter will be intercepted by the Cardinal; if she sends, her messenger will be stopped. Nothing could at that time be done in France without coming to the knowledge of Richelieu. In her extremity she is induced to confide in one of her attendants, with whom D'Artagnan is in love; and a few hours later, the intrepid Gascon and his three inseparable friends set out for England, provided with a leave of absence from Monsieur de Treville, and attended by their four lackeys. D'Artagnan alone knows the object of their journey; but the others, confiding implicitly in his judgment, and bound, moreover, by the rules of their association, ask no questions, and willingly brave the dangers that the Cardinal strews in their path. It is agreed that, in case of rencontres by the way, the dead or wounded are to be left to their fate, and the others are to push on without an instant's delay. Should D'Artagnan fall, the survivors are to take from his pocket the queen's letter to Buckingham, and continue their route.

The adventurers are not allowed to proceed far without molestation. They stop to breakfast, and a stranger picks a quarrel with Porthos, who stays behind to fight him, and does not rejoin them. Near Beauvais they receive a volley from some pretended labourers; D'Artagnan's hat is knocked off by a ball; a lackey is left in the road, and Aramis is badly wounded, and obliged to remain at the next town. D'Artagnan, Athos, and their two attendants, reach Amiens at midnight, and stop to sleep at the sign of the Golden Lily. Here various suspicious incidents occur, and in the morning their horses are found to be dead-lame, and unable to proceed. One that might still have gone on has been bled by mistake.

"All these accidents succeeding each other began to alarm our travellers; they might be the result of chance, but they were more probably that of an organized plot. Athos and D'Artagnan left their room, while Planchet (D'Artagnan's groom) went to enquire whether there were any horses to be bought in the neighbourhood. At the door were standing two vigorous animals, saddled and bridled, and which would have suited the guardsmen well. Planchet asked to whom they belonged, and was told that their masters had passed the night at the inn, and were then paying their score previous to departure. Athos went to do the same, while D'Artagnan and Planchet remained at the street door.

"The host was in a small back room, which Athos was requested to enter. He did so without suspicion, and took out some pistoles to pay. The innkeeper, who was seated at a desk, of which one of the drawers was half-open, took the money, turned it about, and examined it on all sides, and suddenly exclaiming that it was false, declared that he would have Athos and his companion arrested as coiners.

"'Scoundrel!' cried Athos, advancing towards him; 'I will cut your ears off for your insolence.'

"But the man stooped down, took a brace of pistols out of the open drawer, and pointing them at Athos, called loudly for help. On the instant four armed men entered by a side-door, and attacked Athos.

"'I am taken!' cried the mousquetaire, with all the power of his lungs. 'To horse, D'Artagnan! Spur! spur!'

"And he fired both his pistols. D'Artagnan and Planchet untied the two horses that were waiting at the door, sprang upon their backs, and set off full gallop.

"By dint of spurring and precaution, D'Artagnan and his follower reach Calais without further accident; the horse of the former falling dead within a hundred yards of the town. They hasten to the port, and find themselves close to a gentleman and his servant, dusty and travel-stained, who are enquiring for a vessel to take them to England. The master of a sloop that is ready to sail informs them, that an order had arrived that very morning to prevent any ship from leaving the harbour without an express permission from the Cardinal.

"'I have that permission,' said the gentleman, taking a paper from his pocket.

"'Very good!' said the sailor. 'Get it countersigned by the governor of the port, and give me the preference.'

"'Where shall I find the governor?'

"'At his country-house, a quarter of a league from the town. You see it yonder. A slated roof at the foot of a little hill.'"

The gentleman and his attendant take the direction of the governor's house. D'Artagnan follows them; picks a quarrel with the stranger, who is a certain Count de Wardes, an adherent of the Cardinal's, wounds him desperately, himself receiving a scratch, takes the pass, gets it countersigned, and proceeds to England. The Duke of Buckingham is hunting at Windsor with the king; but the indefatigable Gascon follows him thither, and delivers his letter. The duke hurries with him to London to give him the ferrets; but, to his unspeakable consternation, finds that two out of the twelve are missing. They had been cut from his dress by an emissary of the Cardinal's at a ball at Windsor Castle, at which he had worn the queen's present. The ferrets are of immense value, and difficult workmanship. Buckingham sends for his jeweller, who demands eight days and three thousand pistoles to replace the missing ornaments. The duke locks him up in a room, with his tools and a workman, and allows him six thousand pistoles, and thirty-six hours to complete then. The ferrets are ready within the prescribed period. Furnished with a password from the duke, who has trusty agents in France, D'Artagnan reaches Paris by a different road and without impediment, arriving in time to save the queen, who appears at the ball with her twelve ferrets, to the vast discomfiture of the Cardinal. Meanwhile D'Artagnan's mistress had been spirited away by Richelieu, and the young Gascon is in despair. He confides his misfortunes to Monsieur de Treville, who promises to do what he can to find the lady, and advises D'Artagnan to leave Paris till the Cardinal's wrath is a little blown over. D'Artagnan takes his advice; bethinks him of the three mousquetaires, and sets out to look for them. He finds Porthos and Aramis where he left them, nearly recovered from their wounds; and proceeding to Amiens, enters the hotel of the Golden Lily, and confronts the host — his whip in his right hand, his left on his sword-hilt, and evidently meaning mischief.

The innkeeper, however, turns out to be more an object of pity than blame. Previously to the arrival of D'Artagnan and Athos on their way to England, he had received information from the authorities, that a party of coiners, disguised as guardsmen, would arrive at his inn, and that he was to take measures to arrest them. The six men who brought him these orders disguised themselves as servants and stable-boys, and remained to assist in the capture. In the skirmish, Athos shot two of them, wounded a third, cut the host across the face with the flat of his sword, and retreated fighting to the cellar stairs. Entering the cellar, he pulled the door to and barricaded it. His assailants left the house, carrying off their killed and wounded; and when the innkeeper, recovering a little from his alarm, went to inform the governor of what had occurred, the latter declared himself totally ignorant of the whole business, denied that he had given orders to arrest any coiners, and threatened to hang the unlucky host if he mixed up his name in the affair.

"'But, Athos!' cried D'Artagnan, losing all patience at the innkeeper's prolixity, — 'Athos, what is become of him?'

"'I was eager to repair my wrongs towards the gentleman,' replied the innkeeper, 'and hurried to the cellar to set him at liberty. But on my declaring what I came for, he swore it was only a snare laid for him, and insisted upon making his conditions before he came out. I told him very humbly — for I was aware of the scrape into which I had got myself by my violence towards one of the King's mousquetaires — that I was ready to submit to them.'

"'In the first place,' said he, 'I must have my servant delivered to me, fully armed.'

"His order was obeyed, and Monsieur Grimaud was taken down to the cellar, wounded as he was. His master received him, barricaded the door again, and bid us go to the devil.

"'But where is he?' cried D'Artagnan. 'Where is Athos?'

"'In the cellar, sir.'

"'Scoundrel! you have kept him all this time in the cellar?'

"'Good heavens, sir! I keep him in the cellar! You do not know what he is doing there, or you would not suppose it. If you can prevail upon him to come out, I shall be grateful to you to the last day of my life; I will adore you as my guardian angel.'

"'I shall find him there, then?'

"'Certainly you will, sir — he won't come out. Every day we are obliged to hand him down bread at the end of a hay-fork, and meat too, when he asks for it. But, alas! it is not of bread and meat that he makes the largest consumption. I tried once to enter the cellar with two of my servants, and he put himself in a most terrible passion. I heard him and his lackey cocking their pistols and carbine; and when we asked what their intentions were, your friend said that they had forty shots to fire, and that they would fire every one before allowing us to enter the cellar. I then went to complain to the governor, and he told me that I had only got what I deserved, and that it would teach me to maltreat honourable gentlemen who used my house.'

"'So that, since that time...' said D'Artagnan, who could not help laughing at the pitiable countenance of the host.

"'Since that time, sir,' continued the latter, 'we lead the most wretched life imaginable; for you must know that all our provisions are in the cellar, our wine in bottle and our wine in cask, beer, oil, and spices, hams and sausages; and as we cannot get at them, we are unable to give food or drink to the travellers who alight here, and our inn is losing all its custom. If your friend stops one week longer in my cellar, I am a ruined man.'

"'And quite right that you should be, scoundrel! It was easy to see by our appearance, that we were men of quality and not coiners.'

"'Yes, sir, you are right,' replied poor Boniface. 'But only listen to him, he is getting into a passion.'

"'Doubtless somebody has disturbed him,' said D'Artagnan.

"'We are obliged to disturb him,' cried the host; 'two English gentlemen have just arrived. The English, as you know, love good wine, and these have asked for the best. My wife is gone to beg Monsieur Athos to let her in, and he has no doubt refused as usual. Holy Virgin! What a racket he is making.'

"D'Artagnan rose from his seat, and followed by the host and by Planchet with his cocked carbine, took the direction of the cellar, whence a tremendous noise was proceeding. The Englishmen were exasperated; they had just come off a long journey, and were dying of hunger and thirst.

"'It is perfect tyranny,' cried they in very good French, 'that this madman will not allow these good people the use of their wine. But we will break open the door, and if he is too furious, we will kill him.'

"'Not so fast, gentlemen,' said D'Artagnan, drawing his pistols from his belt. 'You will kill nobody, if you please.'

"'Let them come,' said Athos, in his usual calm voice, from the other side of the door, 'let them come in, and we shall see.'

"Brave as they appeared to be, the two Englishmen hesitated and looked at one another. One might almost have supposed that the cellar was garrisoned by one of those hungry ogres of the fairy tale, whose cavern no one could enter with impunity. There was a moment's silence; but the Englishmen were ashamed to retreat, and one of them, descending the five or six steps leading to the cellar, gave the door a kick that made it rattle on its hinges.

"'Planchet,' said D'Artagnan, cocking his pistols, 'you take the one at the bottom of the stairs; I will take the other. Since you are for a fight, gentlemen, you shall have a bellyfull.'

"'Is that D'Artagnan's voice?' cried Athos.

"'It is,' replied the Gascon.

"'Very good,' said Athos, 'we will work them a little, these door-breakers.'

"'A moment's patience, Athos,' said D'Artagnan. 'Gentlemen,' he continued, turning to the Englishmen, 'you are between two fires. My servant and myself have three shots to fire, you will receive as many from the cellar, besides which we have got our swords, with the use of which, I can assure you, my friend and myself are tolerably well acquainted. Allow me to arrange matters. I give you my word that you shall have some wine just now.'