IF, following one of the most enterprising of our weekly journals, a French paper were to invite celebrities to summon up their recollections and supply lists of the authors who most charmed their childhood, we may hazard the conjecture that the name of Dumas would be found in many. This may surprise those who only know Dumas as the author of “Monte Cristo,”
“The Three Musketeers,” and “The Black Tulip,” and who remember, more or less vaguely, as a matter of literary history, that in 1829 he headed the Romantic Movement with his drama “Henri III “; and it is perfectly true that the enormous success of his novels altogether surpassed the reputation he had previously acquired as the writer of entertaining travels and delightful tales for young people. It is not, however, uncommon to find in contemporary literature affectionate tributes paid to some one or more of these tales, and the title that is recorded most frequently is “Le Capitaine Pamphile.”
Dumas wrote the first few chapters of “Captain Pamphile “as early as 1834, when they appeared in the second volume of the “Journal des Enfants,” the story being continued in the third and sixth and completed in the seventh volume. In 1835 the same chapters, entitled “Jacques I et Jacques II: Fragments Historiques,” were reprinted in Dumas’ “Souvenirs d’Antony,” which, containing stories so remarkable as “Blanche de Beaulieu “and “Le Cocher de Cabriolet,” were read by every one who cared for the productions of the Romantic School. “Jacques I et Jacques II “had a great success, and in 1840, Dumas having completed the book, Dumont published it as “Le Capitaine Pamphile,” with the following editorial note:
“At last we find ourselves in the fortunate position of being able to bring before the public the interesting series of adventures associated with the name of “Captain Pamphile.” It has required no less than the time which has elapsed since the first four chapters appeared in the “Souvenirs d’Antony “(from which we have reprinted them in order to lay before our readers a complete work), that is to say, five years, to procure the necessary documents relating to the characters in this history. These documents were scattered over the four quarters of the globe, but, thanks to the good offices of our consuls, we have succeeded in gathering them together. We feel amply rewarded to-day for our trouble by the conviction that we are presenting to the public a book which is so nearly perfect that only professional critics, with their well-known justice and discernment, are capable of pointing out the slight distance by which the account of “The Adventures of Captain Pamphile” falls short of absolute perfection.”
The original text was not, however, exactly reproduced, and for the edification of the curious in such matters we translate the concluding paragraph of “Jacques I et Jacques II,” which should be read after the mention of the captain’s purchase of a parrot on page 47 of the present edition.
“Gentlemen,” said Jadin, breaking off short in his narrative, “as it has proved impossible for me to find out whether the parakeet in question was a true parrot or a cockatoo, and as it was important to clear this point up, I wrote to Captain Pamphile, in order to procure the most accurate information as to the family of the new personage we are about to bring under your notice, but before my letter reached him he, having disposed of his cargo most advantageously, had set out on a second voyage to India. Mme. Pamphile did me the honour to reply to my letter, saying that her husband would be back in September or October next; I am therefore obliged to ask you to wait till then for the continuation of the history of ‘Jacques I et Jacques II.’”
For general reading in France the edition of 1840 has been entirely superseded by the issue of one illustrated by Bertall. The book with “Le Fléau de Naples “also forms a volume of the “Œuvres Complètes.”
“Captain Pamphile,” besides being a most amusing trifle, written with much grace and wit, has this distinction: that no other book can well be compared with it. It is true that one or two of the adventures of the “worthy captain “recall those of Baron Munchausen, while others may have been inspired by Captain Marryat, of whose work Dumas was an admirer, but the conception and working out of the story, besides the character of the captain himself, are as widely different as can be. The stories about the animals, which are ingeniously made to serve as a peg on which to hang the said adventures, are no less amusing, and it is interesting to observe that these stories, written in 1834, are precisely in the same style as Dumas’ more famous “Histoire de mes Bétes,” composed about thirty years later. They are not only interesting in themselves, they introduce on the scene Dumas himself and a group of his friends, the famous painters — Decamps, Flers, Tony Johannot, and Jadin. Jadin accompanied Dumas on his excursions in the South of France and Italy, and is immortalized in the “Impressions de Voyage,” while Dauzats, of whom mention is made, supplied the material for the entertaining “Quinze Jours au Sinai “and for the drama and romance “Captain Paul.” Every one is familiar with the name of Alphonse Karr, whose letter to Dumas is printed at the end of the present story.
To give the reader an idea of the Dumas of 1840, which as we have seen was the year of publication of “Captain Pamphile,” we can scarcely do better than present his portrait as sketched by de Villemessant, the founder and brilliant editor of the “Figaro.” To assist the sale of the “Sylphide,” his journal for the time being, de Villemessant had the idea of giving a concert, and of issuing free tickets of admission to all his regular subscribers.
“Long before the commencement of the concert Herz’s Hall was filled by a distinguished audience. It was not towards the platform that all eyes were directed, but towards the door of entrance, for Alexandre Dumas was expected. Suddenly a rustle and a murmur of pleasure ran through the hall from end to end: Alexandre Dumas had just arrived; he was about to enter. I have seen the entrance of many remarkable persons since then, but no sovereign presenting himself before spectators assembled to receive him ever produced such an effect. In an instant the entire audience rose and every look was fixed on the illustrious writer, whose high stature towered above the assembly, as, smiling right and left on friends and even on strangers, he slowly made his way to his stall, his progress impeded by the number of hands held out to grasp his as he passed.
“Alexandre Dumas was then in the height of his glory, and a grasp of his hand was better than a touch of genius to those receiving it. All the opera glasses were turned on the young writer to whom he spoke two words in the crowd. ‘He is a friend of Dumas; he must be some one very distinguished,’ ran from mouth to mouth, while the young girls could not look enough at any young man lucky enough to. be able to boast of such a friendship. In order to understand the prestige of Alexandre Dumas we must transport ourselves back to the time when all Paris fell under the charm of his matchless talent. Success, which is an accident in the lives of most writers, was to him a daily companion. Everything in him was stupendous: his imagination, his intellect, his gay good nature, and his lavishness.
“At no time and among no people had it till then been granted to a writer to achieve fame in every direction; in serious drama and in comedy, in novels of adventure and of domestic interest, in humorous stories and in pathetic tales he had been alike successful. The frequenters of the Théâtre français owed him evenings of delight, but so did the ‘man in the street.’ Dumas alone had had the power to touch, interest, or amuse, not only Paris or France, but the whole world. If all other novelists had been swallowed up in an earthquake, this one would have been able to supply the lending libraries of Europe. If all other dramatists had died, Alexandre Dumas could have occupied every stage; his magic name on a play-bill or affixed to a newspaper story ensured the sale of the newspaper or a full house at the theatre. He was king of the stage, prince of feuilletonists, the literary man, par excellence, in that Paris then so full of intellect. When he opened his lips the most eloquent held their breath to listen; when he entered a room the wit of man, the beauty of woman, the pride of life grew dim in the radiance of his glory; he reigned over Paris in right of his sovereign intellect, the only monarch who for an entire century had understood how to draw to himself the adoration of all classed of society from the Faubourg St. Germain to the Marais and the Batignolles.
“Just as he united in himself capabilities of many kinds, so he displayed in his person the perfection of many races. From the negro he had derived the frizzled hair and those thick lips on which Europe had laid a delicate smile of ever-varying meaning; from the southern races he derived his vivacity of gesture and speech, from the northern his solid frame and broad shoulders and a figure which, while it showed no lack of French elegance, was powerful enough to make green with envy gentlemen of the Russian Life-Guards.
“Nature had richly endowed him; intelligence and physical strength, intellect and health were his. At the period we are thinking of Alexandre Dumas, tall and slim, was the finished type of a perfect cavalier: what was heavy in his features was hidden in the light of his blue eyes; in the struggle between the two races which had taken place within him the negro had been subdued by the man of civilization; the impetuosity of the blood of Africa had been toned down by the elegances of European culture; the wit which flowed from his lips ennobled, so to speak, their form, and his ugliness was transfigured by the brilliant mind and consciousness of success which glowed behind it.
“Every quality displayed by this extraordinary man pleased and fascinated. His delight in his own strength, his self-satisfied smile, fatuous in anyone else, were in him an added grace. Never had been met before, and long will it be till we meet again, in the streets of Paris a man whose mere appearance drew all hearts to him.
“Alexandre Dumas had learned the great art of exciting no jealousy by his success. Simple and friendly with great writers, familiar with the less known, he gained the confidence of the one class and aroused the enthusiasm of the other, so that both those whose career was beginning and those who had succeeded were on his side. His exquisite courtesy, while it stifled envy in the germ, fascinated young writers, who were delighted „ to be met with such friendliness by the lion of the day. “Passing through the whole length of the hall to reach the place I had reserved for him in the front row, he paused every instant to shake hands with one and another. Among the multitude of his admirers Dumas, who was always absent-minded, did not try to distinguish friends from mere acquaintances, for all he had the same smile, the same hand-clasp; I myself had only met him two or three times before, and yet that evening on seeing me he held out both his hands and said:—”’Bon soir, mon cher ami, tu te portes bien?’”It is now years ago since the American public was invited to purchase some “Historical Fragments “by Alexandre Dumas, to find that James I and James II were not monarchs, but monkeys.
An edition of “Captain Pamphile,” long out of print, was published in New York by Winchester, and episodes from the book adapted for use in schools have been edited by Mr. E. C. Morris (Longmans, 1892). Mr. Andrew Lang laid a few chapters from it under contribution when making up his “Animal Story Book.”