More Books for Swashbucklers

Posted by J. Mark Bertrand
on Monday, April 14, 2008
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Last week's piece on Restoring Dumas is only half the story. Some people read Dumas early, but I wasn't one of them. To be honest, Richard Lester's early 70s adaptation of The Three Musketeers with Michael York in the lead put me off -- in spite of my great affection for all manifestations of Oliver Reed. So I got to the master by a circuitous route, via two of his best-known acolytes. The first was Rafael Sabatini, the author of Scaramouche. One of my most prized antiquarian sets is a complete edition of Sabatini's work, still respelendent in original bindings (complete with little ships, in honor of Captain Blood).



Unfortunately, the set came out during Sabatini's lifetime, so some of his best books -- like Master-at-Arms -- aren't included. If you like Dumas, you owe it to yourself to read Sabatini, who does much greater justice to the swordplay and scene-setting. When Sabatini traced his influences back to Dumas, there was a significant figure in between, a writer largely forgotten today: Stanley Weyman.



A Gentleman of France is probably his best, though I'm also partial to Count Hannibal (not shown), which is set after the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre. The swashbuckling adventure genre has all but dried up today, but it flourished once, and the quality of the books is impressive. Of the three writers, I think I'd rate Weyman the best (though Dumas was a master storyteller and no doubt deserves to shine much brighter). I haven't found a leather-bound edition of Weyman and don't know that there ever was one, but the hardbacks tend to be beautifully produced, particularly the early ones.

Of course, if you read too much about swashbuckling, you'll get the itch for a little cut and thrust yourself, in which case Roworth's The Art of Defense comes in handy. To give the full title, The Art of Defense on Foot with the Broad Sword and Sabre. This is the 1798 edition, complete with the fold-out plates. It isn't nearly as elaborate as Domenico Angelo's The School of Fencing, or as down-and-dirty as Donald McBane's Expert Sword-Man's Companion, but Roworth gets the job done in style.



This particular copy is bound in red calfskin and black shagreen (click here for a look), so it's rather unique.