EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
In which it is proved that, notwithstanding their names’ ending in os
and is, the heroes of the story which we are about to have the honor
to relate to our readers have nothing mythological about them.
A short time ago, while making researches in the Royal Library for my
History of Louis XIV., I stumbled by chance upon the Memoirs of M.
d’Artagnan, printed—as were most of the works of that period, in which
authors could not tell the truth without the risk of a residence, more
or less long, in the Bastille—at Amsterdam, by Pierre Rouge. The title
attracted me; I took them home with me, with the permission of the
guardian, and devoured them.
It is not my intention here to enter into an analysis of this curious
work; and I shall satisfy myself with referring such of my readers as
appreciate the pictures of the period to its pages. They will therein
find portraits penciled by the hand of a master; and although these
squibs may be, for the most part, traced upon the doors of barracks and
the walls of cabarets, they will not find the likenesses of Louis XIII.,
Anne of Austria, Richelieu, Mazarin, and the courtiers of the period,
less faithful than in the history of M. Anquetil.
But, it is well known, what strikes the capricious mind of the poet is
not always what affects the mass of readers. Now, while admiring, as
others doubtless will admire, the details we have to relate, our main
preoccupation concerned a matter to which no one before ourselves had
given a thought.
D’Artagnan relates that on his first visit to M. de Tréville, captain
of the king’s Musketeers, he met in the antechamber three young men,
serving in the illustrious corps into which he was soliciting the honor
of being received, bearing the names of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.
We must confess these three strange names struck us; and it immediately
occurred to us that they were but pseudonyms, under which D’Artagnan
had disguised names perhaps illustrious, or else that the bearers of
these borrowed names had themselves chosen them on the day in which,
from caprice, discontent, or want of fortune, they had donned the
simple Musketeer’s uniform.
From that moment we had no rest till we could find some trace in
contemporary works of these extraordinary names which had so strongly
awakened our curiosity.
The catalogue alone of the books we read with this object would fill a
whole chapter, which, although it might be very instructive, would
certainly afford our readers but little amusement. It will suffice,
then, to tell them that at the moment at which, discouraged by so many
fruitless investigations, we were about to abandon our search, we at
length found, guided by the counsels of our illustrious friend Paulin
Paris, a manuscript in folio, endorsed 4772 or 4773, we do not
recollect which, having for title, “Memoirs of the Comte de la Fère,
Touching Some Events Which Passed in France Toward the End of the Reign
of King Louis XIII. and the Commencement of the Reign of King Louis
XIV.”
It may be easily imagined how great was our joy when, in turning over
this manuscript, our last hope, we found at the twentieth page the name
of Athos, at the twenty-seventh the name of Porthos, and at the
thirty-first the name of Aramis.
The discovery of a completely unknown manuscript at a period in which
historical science is carried to such a high degree appeared almost
miraculous. We hastened, therefore, to obtain permission to print it,
with the view of presenting ourselves someday with the pack of others
at the doors of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres, if we
should not succeed—a very probable thing, by the by—in gaining
admission to the Académie Française with our own proper pack. This
permission, we feel bound to say, was graciously granted; which compels
us here to give a public contradiction to the slanderers who pretend
that we live under a government but moderately indulgent to men of
letters.
Now, this is the first part of this precious manuscript which we offer
to our readers, restoring it to the title which belongs to it, and
entering into an engagement that if (of which we have no doubt) this
first part should obtain the success it merits, we will publish the
second immediately.
In the meanwhile, as the godfather is a second father, we beg the
reader to lay to our account, and not to that of the Comte de la Fère,
the pleasure or the ennui he may experience.
This being understood, let us proceed with our history.
The Three Musketeers