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Under the Red Robe
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374 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1894
About the author
Stanley J. Weyman
200 books22 followersAdmired by renowned authors such as Stevenson, Wilde, and Rafael Sabatini, Stanley John Weyman is today a forgotten literary giant of the late 19th century. While for years his best-selling historical romances enchanted thousands of readers, today his books are mostly neglected.
Stanley Weyman (pronounced Wyman) was the second of three sons born to solicitor Thomas Weyman and his wife Mary Maria Black on August 7, 1855, at 54 Broad Street, Ludlow, Shropshire. He attended King Edward VI Grammar School, Shrewsbury School (after age 16) and obtained a second class degree in Modern History at Christ Church, Oxford in 1877. As History Master at King's School, Chester, he served under his future brother-in-law, Rev'd. George Preston.
In Ludlow in 1879 he read for the Bar and was called in 1881, to begin a disappointing law career with Weyman, Weyman and Weyman, the family law firm. He has been described as nervous, shy, short in height and a poor cross-examiner and was said to have angered a judge because of these shortcomings. It is to our blessing that Weyman's law career was unsatisfactory. As a result, he was able to devote his ample spare time to writing. James Payn, editor of Cornhill Magazine, encouraged him to tackle larger literary works. The House of the Wolf was serialized in the English Illustrated Magazine in 1888/89 and was published in 1890 after Weyman contacted literary agent, A. P. Watt. This first book received no less than six rejections by publishers. Two additional books, The New Rector and The Story of Francis Cludde, were published in 1891 and these allowed him to become a full-time novelist.
Beginning his professional literary career in middle age, Weyman had a lifetime of experience to share including the insights gained from his extensive travels. On one notable vacation in the south of France in 1886, for a "weakness in the lungs" in the company of his younger brother Arthur, both were arrested as spies for sketching and crossing the border into Spain. They were detained for 24 hours until the British Ambassador helped them.
Experiences such as these are reflected in his novels. Stanley Weyman was a man of few words but those that were given were meant to be savoured. As an author, he had an uncanny way of using precisely the correct phrase. With his eloquent and extraordinary use of language, he painted a vivid picture of life and human emotion. His work is finely honed by a razor sharp mind that combines the skill of a great storyteller and an Oxford scholar's love of history.
Weyman's fame stands on the foundation of his historical, romantic fiction. The 15 novels written between 1890 and 1904 are set amidst the turmoil of 16th and 17th century France. Weyman was one of the first authors to 'cast the romance of adventure' in the historical framework. He was able to resurrect the great heroes and bring them to life by his loving hand. This author claimed: "The graves of our heroes--the real heroes--move us; the doors through which the famous dead have passed are sacred to us." Stanley Weyman regarded himself as fortunate that the timing of his early novels followed closely the popular historical fiction of Alexandre Dumas in France.
Stanley Weyman (pronounced Wyman) was the second of three sons born to solicitor Thomas Weyman and his wife Mary Maria Black on August 7, 1855, at 54 Broad Street, Ludlow, Shropshire. He attended King Edward VI Grammar School, Shrewsbury School (after age 16) and obtained a second class degree in Modern History at Christ Church, Oxford in 1877. As History Master at King's School, Chester, he served under his future brother-in-law, Rev'd. George Preston.
In Ludlow in 1879 he read for the Bar and was called in 1881, to begin a disappointing law career with Weyman, Weyman and Weyman, the family law firm. He has been described as nervous, shy, short in height and a poor cross-examiner and was said to have angered a judge because of these shortcomings. It is to our blessing that Weyman's law career was unsatisfactory. As a result, he was able to devote his ample spare time to writing. James Payn, editor of Cornhill Magazine, encouraged him to tackle larger literary works. The House of the Wolf was serialized in the English Illustrated Magazine in 1888/89 and was published in 1890 after Weyman contacted literary agent, A. P. Watt. This first book received no less than six rejections by publishers. Two additional books, The New Rector and The Story of Francis Cludde, were published in 1891 and these allowed him to become a full-time novelist.
Beginning his professional literary career in middle age, Weyman had a lifetime of experience to share including the insights gained from his extensive travels. On one notable vacation in the south of France in 1886, for a "weakness in the lungs" in the company of his younger brother Arthur, both were arrested as spies for sketching and crossing the border into Spain. They were detained for 24 hours until the British Ambassador helped them.
Experiences such as these are reflected in his novels. Stanley Weyman was a man of few words but those that were given were meant to be savoured. As an author, he had an uncanny way of using precisely the correct phrase. With his eloquent and extraordinary use of language, he painted a vivid picture of life and human emotion. His work is finely honed by a razor sharp mind that combines the skill of a great storyteller and an Oxford scholar's love of history.
Weyman's fame stands on the foundation of his historical, romantic fiction. The 15 novels written between 1890 and 1904 are set amidst the turmoil of 16th and 17th century France. Weyman was one of the first authors to 'cast the romance of adventure' in the historical framework. He was able to resurrect the great heroes and bring them to life by his loving hand. This author claimed: "The graves of our heroes--the real heroes--move us; the doors through which the famous dead have passed are sacred to us." Stanley Weyman regarded himself as fortunate that the timing of his early novels followed closely the popular historical fiction of Alexandre Dumas in France.
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Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
November 27, 2025
Questo romanzo pubblicato nel 1894 dallo scrittore inglese Stanley John Weyman [1855-1928] è ambientato nella Francia di Richelieu e Luigi XIV e il protagonista al pari dei quattro moschettieri è un eccellente e temuto giovane schermidore ma al contrario dei più noti protagonisti dei romanzi di Dumas, a causa dei rovesci della fortuna e del suo carattere suscettibile e ombroso che lo porta spesso a duellare per questioni di poco conto, finisce per accendere l’ira del famoso cardinale che lo costringe ad accettare una missione di spionaggio in Bretagna per catturare un conte suo personale nemico che sfugge alla cattura delle guardie del cardinale grazie a nascondigli ingegnosi e alla protezione del popolo: romanzo di evasione e intrattenimento che vede il protagonista destreggiarsi abilmente tra fatti d’arme e galanterie, vendette e inseguimenti nella splendida cornice delle terre bretoni, si legge con piacere ma la sua leggerezza rappresenta anche l’unico merito, troppo poco per ricordarlo nel tempo.
November 11, 2015
A fun and unassuming vintage swashbuckler, somewhat mediocre but full of fun melodrama on themes of honour.
I'm only giving this book two stars because, well, it wasn't that good. It was kind of derivative and very silly in parts. However, thinking about this novel reminds me what's GOOD about silly melodramatic vintage swashbucklers.
UNDER THE RED ROBE is about a man still clinging to some shreds of honour despite being a gambler, a duelist, and a spy. When he finds himself forced to spy on a pair of noble but helpless women, however, he's gradually called back to a sense of right and wrong.
Books like this strike us as silly because of their excessive preoccupation with punctilious details of honour and manners, and their authors were very inventive about placing their characters in heart-rending situations where everything must be given up for the sake of honour. This is all very nice and melodramatic, but you'll get the most out of books like this if you pull back and de-romanticise everything a bit, and focus on the fact that these are books about people agonising over doing the right thing, people who take pride in doing the right thing - keeping their promises, serving their masters, being faithful to their loves, telling the truth. Too often there's also an emphasis on avenging their insults, but I loved that in this book the avenging of insults - the hero's identity as a duelist - is set at odds with his true, conscientious, sense of honour which might be defined as a consciousness of virtue.
A lot of modern fiction is far more concerned with doing the smart, the effective, or the pragmatic thing, above doing the right thing just because it is right and because one's personal sense of right and wrong demands it. I can't possibly recommend UNDER THE RED ROBE as great art, but it was a welcome reminder to me of what true honour is, how greatly it was once prized... and what terrific melodrama it makes.
I'm only giving this book two stars because, well, it wasn't that good. It was kind of derivative and very silly in parts. However, thinking about this novel reminds me what's GOOD about silly melodramatic vintage swashbucklers.
UNDER THE RED ROBE is about a man still clinging to some shreds of honour despite being a gambler, a duelist, and a spy. When he finds himself forced to spy on a pair of noble but helpless women, however, he's gradually called back to a sense of right and wrong.
Books like this strike us as silly because of their excessive preoccupation with punctilious details of honour and manners, and their authors were very inventive about placing their characters in heart-rending situations where everything must be given up for the sake of honour. This is all very nice and melodramatic, but you'll get the most out of books like this if you pull back and de-romanticise everything a bit, and focus on the fact that these are books about people agonising over doing the right thing, people who take pride in doing the right thing - keeping their promises, serving their masters, being faithful to their loves, telling the truth. Too often there's also an emphasis on avenging their insults, but I loved that in this book the avenging of insults - the hero's identity as a duelist - is set at odds with his true, conscientious, sense of honour which might be defined as a consciousness of virtue.
A lot of modern fiction is far more concerned with doing the smart, the effective, or the pragmatic thing, above doing the right thing just because it is right and because one's personal sense of right and wrong demands it. I can't possibly recommend UNDER THE RED ROBE as great art, but it was a welcome reminder to me of what true honour is, how greatly it was once prized... and what terrific melodrama it makes.
April 22, 2026
As with Scaramouche, this was a book that I was a bit disappointed by when I first read it, having originally been excited to find a copy of after having seen and enjoyed the film version ("Under the Red Robe", 1937: It was a period of plot and counter-plot, of reckless gallantry and ruthless oppression ... the time of D'Artagnan, of Cyrano De Bergerac, of Gil De Berault, the "Black Death"). Doubtless I was hoping for a novelisation of what I've just seen, which this of course isn't -- although I seem to remember that it's rather closer in spirit than "Scaramouche".
But again, sufficient years have now elapsed that I have long since forgotten almost everything about the film save a vague favourable impression, and I am able to approach the novel on its own terms. And right from the start you realise that the author is doing something unexpected (and doing it very well): the protagonist, Gil de Berault, is quite recognisably *the villain* in this scenario, although of course he doesn't see himself that way.
It's the classic set-up of a naive young foreigner being fleeced by a hard-bitten professional who makes his living in a disreputable establishment by playing at cards for high stakes -- and cheating; he admits quite openly that he won by being able to see his opponent's cards in the mirror behind him. He then deliberately pushes his victim into a duel, outmanipulating the Marquis who tries to intervene, and puts a sword-thrust through his body after the young man has spared him when he himself was at a momentary disadvantage: "if I let this pass I must leave Paris and the eating-house, and starve".
It subsequently transpires that he has faith that he is skilled enough to do this and end the fight without intending to kill his victim: "a high chest-thrust carefully delivered". But we and all the onlookers take it for granted that we have just witnessed cold-blooded murder; Gil's narrative voice is bitter and cynical, despite the momentary qualms of conscience that he dismisses, and the scenario is familiar from a dozen other historical novels. The difference is that in this case the protagonist is not the older man stepping in to try to stop the young idiot from playing into the villain's hands, nor the naive boy who falls victim to a hardened gamester with an ugly reputation. We're seeing events from the point of view of the man who has set the whole thing up, and who surveys everyone around him with contempt.
But even Gil de Berault meets his match when it comes to Cardinal Richelieu ("smiling villainously, while he gently smoothed the fur of a cat"... but this was fifty years pre-Bond!), on whose support he has counted to spare him from the penalty for his deeds, but who has no intention of saving him this time from the gallows. The best Gil can manage, after humiliating himself to plead, is to get his sentence commuted on condition he carries out a spying mission for the Cardinal instead. His task is to gain the confidence of a family of rebel nobles, get admission into their home, and betray them. It's dangerous, because if his aims are discovered he will probably be torn apart by the infuriated locals, and dishonourable -- but then with his lifestyle honour is a luxury that no longer means much.
So he sets off cynically to win his own freedom by using all his cunning to deliver another man to interrogation and torture or death. Initially the infiltration mission does in fact have strong overtones of a James Bond thriller about it, however anachronistic the comparison might seem. He finally makes it into the chateau by contriving to get himself beaten up and appealing to the sympathies of the ladies of the house, but the treatment he receives there and the forgotten promptings of his own better nature begin to undermine his purpose, and he has to remind himself of who he is: After all, this was a little, little place; the people who lived here— I shrugged my shoulders. France, power, pleasure, life, everything worth winning, worth having, lay yonder in the great city. A boy might wreck himself here for a fancy; a man of the world, never.
Except that he finds himself outfoxed by the woman he is more than half falling in love with, and vows to prove her wrong... and then a force of soldiers arrive on the same mission as his own, and he finds his loyalties thoroughly confused -- though some things never change (Murder? Merely because I had planned the duel and provoked the quarrel? Never had I heard anything so preposterous...)
The one principle on which he still prides himself is that he is always loyal to the hand that pays him, and in this case that is the Cardinal -- so when the question is put by one of his supposed allies as to whether he is playing the traitor to his master or to the two women, it cuts a good deal closer to the bone than he is prepared to admit. My God, how, after this, could I do what I had come to do?... how could I meet her eyes, and stand before her, a Caliban, a Judas, the vilest, lowest thing she could conceive?
And yet, forced by circumstances, he *does* go ahead and fulfil his mission -- again an unexpected outcome in this genre -- and ends up escorting the prisoner and his sister back to Paris. There is some odd plot-play with masks that I can't make out, because it never seems to come to anything; I naturally assumed that the heavily masked woman was, yet again, swapping identities with her sister-in-law or with someone else, but in fact it transpires that (so far as I can tell) she is exactly who she says she is at all points during the journey, so the mask seems completely pointless. And I suspected the slender, fair-haired masked rescuer, whom the prisoner is so adamant that Gil must not unmask, likewise of being Mademoiselle or Madame in disguise, but in fact we never do discover his identity, and apparently he actually is a man, so again this is a hanging plot point introduced to no apparent purpose: we never find out who he is (even though we are explicitly told that Gil himself would recognise him if the mask were removed) and the episode plays no part in any further events. Unnecessary and very odd.
And then there is a final twist; two twists, of which the second is to my mind considerably the greater achievement. First of all it is revealed that the 'triumph' that Gil has been planning is a moral one: having brought his prisoner to the outskirts of Paris, he intends to vindicate himself by proving that although he *could* have delivered his victim up to Richelieu despite everything anybody could do to prevent it, he chooses not to. He will release him to flee the country, and return to the Cardinal to take the (probably fatal) consequences upon his own, Gil's, head.
And secondly, the author switches our perceptions and changes our sympathies again when Gil enters Paris only to find Richelieu out of favour, and on the point of exile and perhaps worse. Events have, seemingly miraculously, played into our hero's hands and virtue is rewarded; he is reprieved from his self-imposed penalty. Only this was a great man, if ever a great man lived, and they were all leaving him; and I— well, I had no cause to love him. But I had taken his money, I had accepted his commission, and I had betrayed him. And in our eyes the Cardinal all of a sudden is no longer an all-powerful sinister figure but a lion pulled down by jackals, with our sympathies at the last moment entirely reversed...
But all ends well. For Richelieu, for Gil -- who has entirely forgotten his own fate for a moment in the palace drama -- and for the lady he loves, who can finally believe that he is as she thought she saw him at first. He is banished, 'at the King's pleasure' and by the Cardinal's gift: banished from the old life of vice to go into exile in the depths of the countryside, in the peace and beauty of her home as her husband and at her side. And "the great Cardinal, once more triumphant over his enemies, saw with cold, smiling eyes the world pass through his chamber. The flood-tide of his prosperity lasted thirteen years from that time, and ceased only with his death."
For a book about an infamous duellist, it's notably lacking in sword-fights, save for that opening scene that sets up the character. For a book about an embittered, dishonoured man, it is full of painful questions of honour. For a historical romance, it's perhaps more predictable, in that the characters duel with their wits and then fall in love despite themselves (although it has only just struck me that I don't think we, or Gil, *ever* learn the lady's name: she is always either 'Madame' or 'Mademoiselle', which does not in the least preclude the most intense sentiments between them :-) And as a period thriller/adventure full of twists and turns and sudden menace, it's fairly gripping. But it's definitely unusual for its era and genre in consciously portraying the protagonist as an antihero.
But again, sufficient years have now elapsed that I have long since forgotten almost everything about the film save a vague favourable impression, and I am able to approach the novel on its own terms. And right from the start you realise that the author is doing something unexpected (and doing it very well): the protagonist, Gil de Berault, is quite recognisably *the villain* in this scenario, although of course he doesn't see himself that way.
It's the classic set-up of a naive young foreigner being fleeced by a hard-bitten professional who makes his living in a disreputable establishment by playing at cards for high stakes -- and cheating; he admits quite openly that he won by being able to see his opponent's cards in the mirror behind him. He then deliberately pushes his victim into a duel, outmanipulating the Marquis who tries to intervene, and puts a sword-thrust through his body after the young man has spared him when he himself was at a momentary disadvantage: "if I let this pass I must leave Paris and the eating-house, and starve".
It subsequently transpires that he has faith that he is skilled enough to do this and end the fight without intending to kill his victim: "a high chest-thrust carefully delivered". But we and all the onlookers take it for granted that we have just witnessed cold-blooded murder; Gil's narrative voice is bitter and cynical, despite the momentary qualms of conscience that he dismisses, and the scenario is familiar from a dozen other historical novels. The difference is that in this case the protagonist is not the older man stepping in to try to stop the young idiot from playing into the villain's hands, nor the naive boy who falls victim to a hardened gamester with an ugly reputation. We're seeing events from the point of view of the man who has set the whole thing up, and who surveys everyone around him with contempt.
But even Gil de Berault meets his match when it comes to Cardinal Richelieu ("smiling villainously, while he gently smoothed the fur of a cat"... but this was fifty years pre-Bond!), on whose support he has counted to spare him from the penalty for his deeds, but who has no intention of saving him this time from the gallows. The best Gil can manage, after humiliating himself to plead, is to get his sentence commuted on condition he carries out a spying mission for the Cardinal instead. His task is to gain the confidence of a family of rebel nobles, get admission into their home, and betray them. It's dangerous, because if his aims are discovered he will probably be torn apart by the infuriated locals, and dishonourable -- but then with his lifestyle honour is a luxury that no longer means much.
So he sets off cynically to win his own freedom by using all his cunning to deliver another man to interrogation and torture or death. Initially the infiltration mission does in fact have strong overtones of a James Bond thriller about it, however anachronistic the comparison might seem. He finally makes it into the chateau by contriving to get himself beaten up and appealing to the sympathies of the ladies of the house, but the treatment he receives there and the forgotten promptings of his own better nature begin to undermine his purpose, and he has to remind himself of who he is: After all, this was a little, little place; the people who lived here— I shrugged my shoulders. France, power, pleasure, life, everything worth winning, worth having, lay yonder in the great city. A boy might wreck himself here for a fancy; a man of the world, never.
Except that he finds himself outfoxed by the woman he is more than half falling in love with, and vows to prove her wrong... and then a force of soldiers arrive on the same mission as his own, and he finds his loyalties thoroughly confused -- though some things never change (Murder? Merely because I had planned the duel and provoked the quarrel? Never had I heard anything so preposterous...)
The one principle on which he still prides himself is that he is always loyal to the hand that pays him, and in this case that is the Cardinal -- so when the question is put by one of his supposed allies as to whether he is playing the traitor to his master or to the two women, it cuts a good deal closer to the bone than he is prepared to admit. My God, how, after this, could I do what I had come to do?... how could I meet her eyes, and stand before her, a Caliban, a Judas, the vilest, lowest thing she could conceive?
And yet, forced by circumstances, he *does* go ahead and fulfil his mission -- again an unexpected outcome in this genre -- and ends up escorting the prisoner and his sister back to Paris. There is some odd plot-play with masks that I can't make out, because it never seems to come to anything; I naturally assumed that the heavily masked woman was, yet again, swapping identities with her sister-in-law or with someone else, but in fact it transpires that (so far as I can tell) she is exactly who she says she is at all points during the journey, so the mask seems completely pointless. And I suspected the slender, fair-haired masked rescuer, whom the prisoner is so adamant that Gil must not unmask, likewise of being Mademoiselle or Madame in disguise, but in fact we never do discover his identity, and apparently he actually is a man, so again this is a hanging plot point introduced to no apparent purpose: we never find out who he is (even though we are explicitly told that Gil himself would recognise him if the mask were removed) and the episode plays no part in any further events. Unnecessary and very odd.
And then there is a final twist; two twists, of which the second is to my mind considerably the greater achievement. First of all it is revealed that the 'triumph' that Gil has been planning is a moral one: having brought his prisoner to the outskirts of Paris, he intends to vindicate himself by proving that although he *could* have delivered his victim up to Richelieu despite everything anybody could do to prevent it, he chooses not to. He will release him to flee the country, and return to the Cardinal to take the (probably fatal) consequences upon his own, Gil's, head.
And secondly, the author switches our perceptions and changes our sympathies again when Gil enters Paris only to find Richelieu out of favour, and on the point of exile and perhaps worse. Events have, seemingly miraculously, played into our hero's hands and virtue is rewarded; he is reprieved from his self-imposed penalty. Only this was a great man, if ever a great man lived, and they were all leaving him; and I— well, I had no cause to love him. But I had taken his money, I had accepted his commission, and I had betrayed him. And in our eyes the Cardinal all of a sudden is no longer an all-powerful sinister figure but a lion pulled down by jackals, with our sympathies at the last moment entirely reversed...
But all ends well. For Richelieu, for Gil -- who has entirely forgotten his own fate for a moment in the palace drama -- and for the lady he loves, who can finally believe that he is as she thought she saw him at first. He is banished, 'at the King's pleasure' and by the Cardinal's gift: banished from the old life of vice to go into exile in the depths of the countryside, in the peace and beauty of her home as her husband and at her side. And "the great Cardinal, once more triumphant over his enemies, saw with cold, smiling eyes the world pass through his chamber. The flood-tide of his prosperity lasted thirteen years from that time, and ceased only with his death."
For a book about an infamous duellist, it's notably lacking in sword-fights, save for that opening scene that sets up the character. For a book about an embittered, dishonoured man, it is full of painful questions of honour. For a historical romance, it's perhaps more predictable, in that the characters duel with their wits and then fall in love despite themselves (although it has only just struck me that I don't think we, or Gil, *ever* learn the lady's name: she is always either 'Madame' or 'Mademoiselle', which does not in the least preclude the most intense sentiments between them :-) And as a period thriller/adventure full of twists and turns and sudden menace, it's fairly gripping. But it's definitely unusual for its era and genre in consciously portraying the protagonist as an antihero.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 25, 2015
I found this book on my grandmother's bookshelf. It was first published in 1894! It is inscribed, "To Cousin Frank from Thora. Christmas 1911." It's falling apart.
I feel like Wendy reading this swashbuckler to the Lost Boys in Neverland because the style of writing is so old and flowery that it evokes a drama of honor and values forgotten in our modern writings. My romantic spirit is quite happy to have found this old and tattered novel.
I feel like Wendy reading this swashbuckler to the Lost Boys in Neverland because the style of writing is so old and flowery that it evokes a drama of honor and values forgotten in our modern writings. My romantic spirit is quite happy to have found this old and tattered novel.
September 5, 2012
Nice discovery of a now unknown author - a fun, swashbuckling tale of adventure, romance, and above all, honor. The principles seem quaint now - but what does that say about us?
October 13, 2016
Stanley Weyman was immensely popular in his day (1855-1928) but long since faded into obscurity. Although he lived until 1928, his most successful books were written in the decade before 1900 and since he was churning out three a year, the quality varies. He seems an interesting combination - a solid Victorian with strong Protestant views (many of his novels are set during the 16th and 17th century French Wars of Religion and feature poor but principled Huguenots) mixed with an interest in liberal politics. Other novels feature the 1832 Reform Bill, the French Revolution of 1789 and even the banking crisis of 1825 - you can see why some are more gripping than others.
Under the Red Robe was published in 1894; since the plot refers to a specific historical event (the Day of the Dupes), the events within it can be dated to the autumn of 1630. At that time, Cardinal Richelieu was Regent for Louis XIV (hence Red Robe) and under his guidance, the French state was simultaneously supporting Protestant anti-Hapsburg forces in Germany as part of the 30 Years War whilst suppressing domestic Huguenots in South-West France (the main Huguenot stronghold of La Rochelle had just surrendered).
The novel features Gil de Berault, a gambler and notorious dueller living in Paris who sometimes acts as hired muscle for the Cardinal. He makes the mistake of fighting one duel too many and is then given the choice between execution or helping the Cardinal capture a key Huguenot rebel. Naturally, he picks the second option and heads off towards the Spanish frontier, where he achieves his objectives but in the process meets a good woman who reforms him etc.
I read most of Weyman's books long ago at school and this is one of only two or three worth a second go. The protagonist is one of Weyman's more interesting and conflicted characters, it's well paced and there's very little fat on it (some of his novels read more like history textbooks). You can see why it was made into a film. Worth a look.
Similar novelists in this style would be Rafael Sabatini (Captain Blood etc) and Russell Thorndike who wrote the Dr Syn series.
Under the Red Robe was published in 1894; since the plot refers to a specific historical event (the Day of the Dupes), the events within it can be dated to the autumn of 1630. At that time, Cardinal Richelieu was Regent for Louis XIV (hence Red Robe) and under his guidance, the French state was simultaneously supporting Protestant anti-Hapsburg forces in Germany as part of the 30 Years War whilst suppressing domestic Huguenots in South-West France (the main Huguenot stronghold of La Rochelle had just surrendered).
The novel features Gil de Berault, a gambler and notorious dueller living in Paris who sometimes acts as hired muscle for the Cardinal. He makes the mistake of fighting one duel too many and is then given the choice between execution or helping the Cardinal capture a key Huguenot rebel. Naturally, he picks the second option and heads off towards the Spanish frontier, where he achieves his objectives but in the process meets a good woman who reforms him etc.
I read most of Weyman's books long ago at school and this is one of only two or three worth a second go. The protagonist is one of Weyman's more interesting and conflicted characters, it's well paced and there's very little fat on it (some of his novels read more like history textbooks). You can see why it was made into a film. Worth a look.
Similar novelists in this style would be Rafael Sabatini (Captain Blood etc) and Russell Thorndike who wrote the Dr Syn series.
September 12, 2021
Because the protagonist in this novel is sent on a mission by Cardinal Richelieu, you can't help but think about The Three Musketeers when reading it. The main difference is that Gil de Berault is on his own, so Red Robe doesn't have the wonderful rapport between characters that the Three Musketeers has.
But Gil is a pretty good hero regardless. He's a gambler and a duelist in a time when dueling has been outlawed. Naturally, he gets in a duel. (Another event that can't help but make you think of Dumas.)
So it's either go to jail or complete a mission for the Cardinal. That mission is finding and capturing a Huguenot rebel. But Gil doesn't count on falling in love with the rebel's sister or being drawn into a situation that makes him feel like he's selling out his honor.
I enjoyed the novel a lot, though there are moments where it felt a little too slow-paced. The book depends more on drama and suspense than action, though there are several excellent action scenes in it. And Gil's dilemma (in which he feels as if he's being dishonorable not matter what he does) is intriguing and his eventual solution has real dramatic impact.
But Gil is a pretty good hero regardless. He's a gambler and a duelist in a time when dueling has been outlawed. Naturally, he gets in a duel. (Another event that can't help but make you think of Dumas.)
So it's either go to jail or complete a mission for the Cardinal. That mission is finding and capturing a Huguenot rebel. But Gil doesn't count on falling in love with the rebel's sister or being drawn into a situation that makes him feel like he's selling out his honor.
I enjoyed the novel a lot, though there are moments where it felt a little too slow-paced. The book depends more on drama and suspense than action, though there are several excellent action scenes in it. And Gil's dilemma (in which he feels as if he's being dishonorable not matter what he does) is intriguing and his eventual solution has real dramatic impact.
August 5, 2017
I loved the main character, the setting, the way Gil de Berault explains his feelings with no lack of adventure or thrilling scenes; the fact that there were loads of dialogues which made the thickest parts more pleasant, the keen descriptions and even Weyman's accurate knowledge of specifical languages for every occasion. Last, but not least, I won't forget his compelling portrayal of Cardinal Richelieu - who actually appears only at the top and the bottom of the book, but in a very incisive way.
The plot develops into enjoyable twists and plenty of action, and it's really entertaining, even though there are some clichés and some chapters could have been better. I, at any rate, would change nothing, hence I gave 5* to this little beautiful discovery.
The plot develops into enjoyable twists and plenty of action, and it's really entertaining, even though there are some clichés and some chapters could have been better. I, at any rate, would change nothing, hence I gave 5* to this little beautiful discovery.
September 19, 2012
a typical adventure Romance with an over-simplified plot and anti-climatic conclusion. However, with a decent style of writing it makes for a nice quick read that satisfies the itch.
August 17, 2016
This was a fun adventure story set in France. It's an unusual story line, thus has several unexpected twists and turns. I enjoyed it!
July 31, 2017
Under the Red Robe (1894) is just like the play Richelieu; Or the Conspiracy (1839) a bestseller in its own time, but a forgotten work in the present.
It's an interesting secret (fictional) mission in name of Cardinal Richelieu. In my Richelieu Reserach is it interesting to see that even he is not all powerful next to the account of the Three Musketeers (1844) by Alexandre Dumas. Yes Richelieu has his spies but who has the power? King Louis XIII, his brother, the queen mother or the Cardinal? The story gives no answer to this historical question but it's nice to see how Richelieu is portrayed:
But the man - this man - needed no surroundings. His keen pale face, his briliant eyes, even his presence - though he was of no great height, and began already to stoop at the shoulders - were enough to awe the boldest. I recalled, as I looked at him, a hundred tales of his iron will, his cold heart, his unerring craft. He had humbled the King's brother, the splendid Duke of Orléans, in the dust. He had curbed the Queen-mother. A dozen heads, the noblest in France, had come to the block through him. Only two years before he had quelled Rochelle; only a few months before he had crushed the great insurrection in Languedoc: and though the south, stripped of its old privileges, still seethed with discontent, no one in this year 1630 dared lift a hand against him - openly, at any rate. Under the surface a hudred plots, a Thousand intrigues, sought his life or his power; but these, I suppose, are the hap of every great man. (p. 16 - 17)
It's an interesting secret (fictional) mission in name of Cardinal Richelieu. In my Richelieu Reserach is it interesting to see that even he is not all powerful next to the account of the Three Musketeers (1844) by Alexandre Dumas. Yes Richelieu has his spies but who has the power? King Louis XIII, his brother, the queen mother or the Cardinal? The story gives no answer to this historical question but it's nice to see how Richelieu is portrayed:
But the man - this man - needed no surroundings. His keen pale face, his briliant eyes, even his presence - though he was of no great height, and began already to stoop at the shoulders - were enough to awe the boldest. I recalled, as I looked at him, a hundred tales of his iron will, his cold heart, his unerring craft. He had humbled the King's brother, the splendid Duke of Orléans, in the dust. He had curbed the Queen-mother. A dozen heads, the noblest in France, had come to the block through him. Only two years before he had quelled Rochelle; only a few months before he had crushed the great insurrection in Languedoc: and though the south, stripped of its old privileges, still seethed with discontent, no one in this year 1630 dared lift a hand against him - openly, at any rate. Under the surface a hudred plots, a Thousand intrigues, sought his life or his power; but these, I suppose, are the hap of every great man. (p. 16 - 17)
August 10, 2021
There is something about Stanley Weyman's writing that is just superbly perfect for the adventure romance novel. That is, Weyman, does a perfect job in fusing the great adventure novel with a romantic tale. Under the Red Robe is a classic example of this wherein our lead figure, a rebel and a miscreant, is sent on a wild and dangerous adventure and whom along the way finds love. It makes you think that every hollywood writer has read a Stanley Weyman book because the formula they use is the one he employed for all of his 1890's novels. The story is engaging, the writing poetic (in the best sense), and the book is a rewarding one. This is so far the best Stanley Weyman novel I have read.
December 21, 2021
An unexpected surprise.
This isn't a perfect book, but there are a lot of good things within these pages.
The story is about de Berault, a gambler and a duelist at the time when dueling had been outlawed by King and Richelieu. de Berault gets caught and is given a chance to save his life by arresting a man, traitor to the King and Crown.
In so doing, de Berault finds the honor within him and tries to do the right thing and in the end, at the point where Richelieu loses his powers, he turns his life in to his punishment and the day is won.
Fun, quick read.
This isn't a perfect book, but there are a lot of good things within these pages.
The story is about de Berault, a gambler and a duelist at the time when dueling had been outlawed by King and Richelieu. de Berault gets caught and is given a chance to save his life by arresting a man, traitor to the King and Crown.
In so doing, de Berault finds the honor within him and tries to do the right thing and in the end, at the point where Richelieu loses his powers, he turns his life in to his punishment and the day is won.
Fun, quick read.
January 1, 2018
Weyman's swashbuckler turns out to be more about somewhat melodramatic romance than actual swashbuckling, but it is still a decent read. Set in the time of the Day of the Dupes - one of the challenges to the growing, soon to be absolute, power of Cardinal Richelieu in the year of 1630 - it is a good read for anyone interested in the period.
Full review:
https://susimetsa.blogspot.fi/2018/01...
Full review:
https://susimetsa.blogspot.fi/2018/01...
January 10, 2026
”A few turns and the mild lustre of the stones shone out, making a kind of moonlight in her hands—such a shimmering glory of imprisoned light as has ruined many a woman and robbed many a man of his honour. Morbleu ! as I looked at them—and as she stood looking at them in dull, entranced perplexity—I wondered how I had come to resist the temptation.”
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”The worst sores in life are caused by crumpled rose-leaves and not by thorns.”
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”The worst sores in life are caused by crumpled rose-leaves and not by thorns.”
August 29, 2022
Another entertaining tale of France during the religious wars.
January 13, 2023
فکر نمی کردم داستان خوبی باشه, اتفاقی این کتاب رو پیدا کردم و خوندم کتاب ساده و شیرینی بود. یک اثر کلاسیک حول موضوعات همیشگی شرافت،شجاعت و عشق . یک شمشیر زن اصیل زاده برای نجات جان خودش مامور به انجام یک کار دشوار میشه، باید یک مخالف حکومت را به تنهایی دستگیر کند و پیش کاردینال بیاورد. این که در میان راه چه اتفاقاتی می افتد جالبه و باید بخونید.
May 31, 2020
This swashbuckling story of love and hate, intrigue and adventure, in the reign of Cardinal Richelieu and Louis XIII of France, has been a best-seller ever since its first appearance in 1894.
An enjoyable adventure story.
An enjoyable adventure story.
September 6, 2013
Really enjoyed Weyman and read what felt like dozens.
They all had a good solid story with romantic settings, real goodies and baddies, damsels in distress - the lot!
They all had a good solid story with romantic settings, real goodies and baddies, damsels in distress - the lot!
August 26, 2015
I liked the honor and gentlemanly qualities of this book, and I kept reading to see where it would go, but I was still disappointed.
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