Wealth as Political Instrument: Gold as the True Power in Between Two Kings
The Currency of Control: Defining the Thematic Claim
In Between Two Kings, the fourth installment of Lawrence Ellsworth's Musketeers Cycle translation, wealth functions not as a static reward but as the primary mechanism through which political reality operates. The novel advances a clear thematic claim: gold is the only genuine power, and those who possess it—whether a dying cardinal, a restored king, or a Gascon adventurer—wield the capacity to shape events, command loyalty, and define legitimacy. Anne of Austria crystallizes this truth when she tells Louis XIV, "Gold is the only power, and those who have that power are the only true kings." The novel examines this proposition through multiple intertwined plotlines, demonstrating that wealth simultaneously enables virtuous action and corrupts relationships, serving as the measure of the distance between noble ideals and practical necessity.
The thematic architecture rests on a paradox central to the mid‑seventeenth-century political landscape Ellsworth brings to life: money is both the foundation of sovereignty and its greatest vulnerability. Louis XIV enters the narrative as a king in name only, humiliatingly aware that his courtiers flock to Cardinal Mazarin rather than to the throne. The dying minister’s hidden millions, the fortune d’Artagnan extracts from Charles II, and the strategic use of treasure by General Monck all illustrate how political reality in this world reduces to arithmetic.
Mazarin’s Ledger: Wealth as Political Gatekeeping
The most explicit treatment of wealth as political instrument occurs in Chapter X, "The Arithmetic of Monsieur de Mazarin." The scene operates as a masterclass in how control over gold translates directly into control over policy. Louis XIV approaches his dying minister as a supplicant, requesting a million livres to aid the exiled Charles II. Mazarin’s response is to convert the request into a lesson in fiscal reality, dictating from Mazarin’s ledger the precise state of royal finances: "Thirty-nine million two hundred sixty thousand livres." The theatrical revelation of these figures—the ledger produced from beneath the bedcovers, the summoning of the valet Bernouin to verify the arithmetic—constitutes a performance of power.
Mazarin’s refusal is not based on principle but on the cold calculus of national interest as defined by available coin. "If you want a million, Sire, that’s a million not accounted for here, and it’s actually forty-six million Your Majesty needs," he declares, his Italian accent creeping into his speech as he diminishes the king’s request to "One little million." The underlying doctrine Mazarin articulates—"Rejoice in being poor when your neighbor is poor as well"—reveals wealth as the lens through which even dynastic solidarity is evaluated. Charles II’s status as a fellow grandson of Henri IV matters less than England’s utility as "a magnet of trouble for all of Europe." Mazarin explicitly prefers that Holland exhaust its treasury supporting Charles while France hoards its resources.
This episode also illuminates how the cardinal’s personal fortune bleeds indistinguishably into state funds. When Mazarin muses "these are the king’s millions… A minister has nothing of his own," the narrative undercuts the claim through his private goal of reaching forty-five million and his hope of extracting "two or three million in the pockets of our good friends the Spaniards." The instrumentality of wealth here operates on multiple levels: the same gold that blocks Charles II’s restoration also purchases Mazarin’s legacy and, ultimately, becomes the diamond-like bequest meant to bind Louis to gratitude.
D’Artagnan’s Three Hundred Thousand: The Personal Cost of Gold
The theme pivots from the macro-political to the intimately personal in Chapter XXXIV, "The Embarrassment of Riches." D’Artagnan’s receipt of three hundred thousand livres from Charles II’s treasury—sealed in "sturdy sacks" bearing "the arms of England"—transforms the abstract tension between wealth and virtue into lived experience. The chapter’s title signals Ellsworth’s ironic treatment: riches here are not liberation but burden. The Gascon, who has navigated decades of political danger with swaggering confidence, finds himself paralyzed by possession.
The psychological erosion is meticulously traced. "A man who possesses three hundred thousand livres can no longer have an unlined brow; a wrinkle for every hundred thousand livres is the least he can expect." D’Artagnan’s all-night vigil with a cocked pistol, his obsession with English-made security mechanisms featuring a "miniature gun" that shoots a "lovely copper bullet," and his visit to Mister Will Jobson—all expose the corrupting anxiety that attaches to sudden fortune. Wealth here becomes an instrument that turns against its possessor, undermining the very freedom it was meant to secure.
The conversation with Athos provides the thematic counterpoint. Athos, representing an aristocratic ideal of sufficiency, explains that he simply "spend[s] whatever I have and no more than that." D’Artagnan’s anguished question—"When one has money, what does one do with it?"—exposes the moral vacuum that fortune creates when unmoored from a settled code of conduct. The revelation that he has forgotten about his partner Planchet, whose "golden dreams come true" through their joint-stock venture, introduces another layer of complexity: wealth that enables action also entangles the adventurer in obligations that complicate his celebrated independence. D’Artagnan’s muttered accounting—"I was put to considerable trouble, you see, had expenses, and all that must be taken into account"—foreshadows how partnership will divide not only his fortune but his loyalties.
The Bequest and the Counter-Argument: Wealth Contested
The thematic treatment reaches its full complexity in Chapter XLVII, "How Anne of Austria Gave Louis XIV One Sort of Advice and Monsieur Fouquet Gave Him Another." Mazarin’s deathbed bequest of forty million livres to Louis XIV forces the novel’s central debate about wealth as political instrument into open confrontation. The cardinal’s act—returning a lifetime of accumulated riches to the crown—appears to validate the instrumental thesis: gold, concentrated in royal hands, becomes the engine of sovereignty. Anne of Austria immediately recognizes the transaction’s power, calling it "the act of a loyal subject and a true Christian."
Yet Fouquet’s counter-argument introduces the most sophisticated critique of the theme. He advises the king to refuse the bequest precisely because accepting it would corrupt the nature of kingship itself: "it’s indecent for a king to accept from a subject six horses worth twenty thousand livres, it’s that much more dishonorable to owe his fortune to a subject who was less than scrupulous in the collection of that fortune." Here wealth functions as a trap rather than a tool; accepting Mazarin’s gold means legitimizing the methods by which it was accumulated. Fouquet’s alternative—"The king shall have it whenever he wishes"—promises wealth through properly exercised royal authority rather than inherited obligation.
The conflict between Anne of Austria’s pragmatism and Fouquet’s principled objection dramatizes the novel’s refusal to resolve the instrumental question simplistically. The queen mother argues that forty million "will make [the king’s] fortune," reducing politics to balance-sheet logic. Fouquet insists that "while a king lives, he has no other measure but his conscience," elevating principle above arithmetic. Louis XIV’s final non-committal response—"I’ll think about it"—preserves the tension while Colbert’s subsequent delivery of thirteen million hidden livres (revealed in Chapter XLIX) demonstrates that even apparent ethical restraint occurs within a system where concealed wealth drives every outcome.
The Newcastle Treasure and Monck’s Strategy
The Newcastle treasure and General Monck’s campaign represent the theme’s extension into the English parallel plotline. Mazarin’s warning about Monck—"his helmet is an iron coffer in which he locks away his thoughts"—employs the language of wealth to describe political cunning. The coffers of the Newcastle treasure, like Mazarin’s hidden millions, become symbolic of how gold, when strategically deployed rather than merely possessed, transforms the political landscape. D’Artagnan’s mission to secure and transport this treasure for Charles II’s restoration makes him the literal instrument through which wealth achieves political ends, converting the abstract theme into plot-driving action.
Monck himself embodies the antithesis to Mazarin’s approach. Where the cardinal hoards and calculates, Monck deploys resources with a general’s tactical precision—treasure as ammunition rather than end in itself. The ventilated box coffin that facilitates movement of funds under the guise of death provides the macabre symbol of how completely wealth and political strategy have merged: gold travels with corpses because political reality in Between Two Kings is, at its foundation, a matter of finance.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does Mazarin’s treatment of Louis XIV’s request for aid to Charles II illustrate the theme of wealth as political instrument?
Mazarin uses the state of the royal finances—thirty-nine million, not the forty-six million needed—as an unanswerable argument against aiding a fellow monarch. By making the impossibility visible through his ledger, he transforms what appears to be a moral or dynastic question into a mathematical one. The cardinal’s doctrine that France should "rejoice in being poor when your neighbor is poor as well" reveals that wealth, or its absence, governs even the bonds of royal blood.
2. In what way does d’Artagnan’s experience with his English fortune complicate the novel’s treatment of wealth?
D’Artagnan’s three hundred thousand livres demonstrates that wealth functions as much as a psychological burden as an instrument of freedom. His obsessive guarding of the coins, his anxiety about security, and his forgotten obligation to Planchet all show that possessing gold creates new dependencies and corrupts the carefree identity that defined him. Wealth enables action but simultaneously constrains the possessor.
3. What is the significance of the debate between Anne of Austria and Fouquet over Mazarin’s bequest?
The debate crystallizes the novel’s central tension about wealth and legitimacy. Anne of Austria represents pragmatic acceptance: gold in royal hands strengthens the crown regardless of its source. Fouquet represents principled refusal: accepting tainted wealth corrupts the moral foundation of kingship. Louis’s indecision reflects the novel’s refusal to resolve this tension, acknowledging that political reality requires both gold and the appearance of honor.
4. How does the Newcastle treasure subplot extend the theme into English political territory?
The Newcastle treasure literalizes the theme: gold must be physically moved to enable political restoration. General Monck’s strategic use of resources contrasts with Mazarin’s hoarding mentality, demonstrating that wealth as political instrument operates differently depending on the character of the wielder. The treasure becomes the bridge between Charles II’s destitution and his restoration, proving that in this world, gold precedes and enables sovereignty.
5. What does Colbert’s secret delivery of thirteen million livres reveal about the tension between visible and invisible wealth?
Colbert’s hidden millions, unknown to anyone but himself and the dying cardinal, demonstrate that the public accounting Mazarin presents to Louis is itself a political performance. The existence of concealed wealth—"in the cellar of a house that Monsieur le Cardinal had in the city"—undermines the transparency the cardinal claims. Invisible wealth, the novel suggests, is the truest form of political power because it operates without accountability.