The inception of the whole work in Dumas' mind, as he says, came to him while he was making research in the "Bibliothèque Royale" for his history of Louis XIV. Thus from these beginnings grew up that series of romances which gave undying fame to Alexandre Dumas, and to the world of readers a series of characters and scenes associated with the mediæval history of France, which, before or since, have not been equalled. Alexandre Dumas has been described as something of the soldier, the cook, and the traveller, more of the journalist, diplomatist, and poet, and, more than all else, the dramatist, romancer, and _raconteur_. He himself has said that he was a "veritable Wandering Jew of literature." His versatility in no way comprised his abilities, and, while conceit and egoism played a not unimportant share in his make-up, his affability--when he so chose--caused him to be ranked highly in the estimation of his equals and contemporaries. By the cur-dogs, which always snap at the heels of a more splendid animal, he was not ranked so high. Certain of these were for ever twitting him publicly of his creed, race, and foibles. It is recorded by Theodore de Bauville, in his "Odes," that one Jacquot hailed Dumas in the open street with a ribald jeer, when, calmly turning to his detractor, Dumas said, simply: "Hast thou dined to-day, Jacquot?" Then it was that this said Jacquot published the slanderous brochure, "_La Maison Dumas et Cie_," which has gone down as something considerable of a sensation in the annals of literary history; so much so, indeed, that most writers who have had occasion to refer to Dumas' literary career have apparently half-believed its accusations, which, truth to tell, may have had some bearing on "things as they were," had they but been put forward as a bit of temperate criticism rather than as a sweeping condemnation. To give the reader an idea of the Dumas of 1840, one can scarcely do better than present his portrait as sketched by De Villemessant, the founder and brilliant editor of the _Figaro_, when Dumas was at the height of his glory, and a grasp of his hand was better than a touch of genius to those receiving it: