CELEBRATED CRIMES, COMPLETE

BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS, PERE

IN EIGHT VOLUMES

THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK [An Essay]

 (This is the essay entitled The Man in the Iron Mask, not the novel "The Man in the Iron Mask" [The Novel] Dumas #28[nmaskxxx. Xxx]2759)

For nearly one hundred years this curious problem has exercised theimagination of writers of fiction--and of drama, and the patience ofthe learned in history. No subject is more obscure and elusive, and nonemore attractive to the general mind. It is a legend to the meaningof which none can find the key and yet in which everyone believes. Involuntarily we feel pity at the thought of that long captivitysurrounded by so many extraordinary precautions, and when we dwell onthe mystery which enveloped the captive, that pity is not only deepenedbut a kind of terror takes possession of us. It is very likely that ifthe name of the hero of this gloomy tale had been known at the time, hewould now be forgotten. To give him a name would be to relegate him atonce to the ranks of those commonplace offenders who quickly exhaust ourinterest and our tears. But this being, cut off from the world withoutleaving any discoverable trace, and whose disappearance apparentlycaused no void--this captive, distinguished among captives by theunexampled nature of his punishment, a prison within a prison, as if thewalls of a mere cell were not narrow enough, has come to typify for usthe sum of all the human misery and suffering ever inflicted by unjusttyranny. 

Who was the Man in the Mask? Was he rapt away into this silent seclusionfrom the luxury of a court, from the intrigues of diplomacy, from thescaffold of a traitor, from the clash of battle? What did he leavebehind? Love, glory, or a throne? What did he regret when hope had fled?Did he pour forth imprecations and curses on his tortures and blasphemeagainst high Heaven, or did he with a sigh possess his soul in patience?

The blows of fortune are differently received according to the differentcharacters of those on whom they fall; and each one of us who inimagination threads the subterranean passages leading to the cellsof Pignerol and Exilles, and incarcerates himself in the IlesSainte-Marguerite and in the Bastille, the successive scenes of thatlong-protracted agony will give the prisoner a form shaped by his ownfancy and a grief proportioned to his own power of suffering. How welong to pierce the thoughts and feel the heart-beats and watch thetrickling tears behind that machine-like exterior, that impassible mask!Our imagination is powerfully excited by the dumbness of that fate borneby one whose words never reached the outward air, whose thoughts couldnever be read on the hidden features; by the isolation of forty yearssecured by two-fold barriers of stone and iron, and she clothes theobject of her contemplation in majestic splendour, connects the mysterywhich enveloped his existence with mighty interests, and persistsin regarding the prisoner as sacrificed for the preservation of somedynastic secret involving the peace of the world and the stability of athrone. 

And when we calmly reflect on the whole case, do we feel that our firstimpulsively adopted opinion was wrong? Do we regard our belief as apoetical illusion? I do not think so; on the contrary, it seems to methat our good sense approves our fancy's flight. For what can be morenatural than the conviction that the secret of the name, age, andfeatures of the captive, which was so perseveringly kept through longyears at the cost of so much care, was of vital importance to theGovernment? No ordinary human passion, such as anger, hate, orvengeance, has so dogged and enduring a character; we feel that themeasures taken were not the expression of a love of cruelty, for evensupposing that Louis XIV were the most cruel of princes, would he nothave chosen one of the thousand methods of torture ready to his handbefore inventing a new and strange one? Moreover, why did he voluntarilyburden himself with the obligation of surrounding a prisoner with suchnumberless precautions and such sleepless vigilance? Must he not havefeared that in spite of it all the walls behind which he concealed thedread mystery would one day let in the light? Was it not through hisentire reign a source of unceasing anxiety? And yet he respected thelife of the captive whom it was so difficult to hide, and the discoveryof whose identity would have been so dangerous. It would have been soeasy to bury the secret in an obscure grave, and yet the order was nevergiven. Was this an expression of hate, anger, or any other passion?Certainly not; the conclusion we must come to in regard to the conductof the king is that all the measures he took against the prisonerwere dictated by purely political motives; that his conscience, whileallowing him to do everything necessary to guard the secret, did notpermit him to take the further step of putting an end to the days of anunfortunate man, who in all probability was guilty of no crime. 

Courtiers are seldom obsequious to the enemies of their master, so thatwe may regard the respect and consideration shown to the Man in the Maskby the governor Saint-Mars, and the minister Louvois, as a testimony, not only to his high rank, but also to his innocence. 

For my part, I make no pretensions to the erudition of the bookworm, andI cannot read the history of the Man in the Iron Mask without feeling myblood boil at the abominable abuse of power--the heinous crime of whichhe was the victim. 

A few years ago, M. Fournier and I, thinking the subject suitable forrepresentation on the stage, undertook to read, before dramatising it, all the different versions of the affair which had been published up tothat time. Since our piece was successfully performed at the Odeon twoother versions have appeared: one was in the form of a letter addressedto the Historical Institute by M. Billiard, who upheld the conclusionsarrived at by Soulavie, on whose narrative our play was founded; theother was a work by the bibliophile Jacob, who followed a new systemof inquiry, and whose book displayed the results of deep research andextensive reading. It did not, however, cause me to change my opinion. Even had it been published before I had written my drama, I should stillhave adhered to the idea as to the most probable solution of the problemwhich I had arrived at in 1831, not only because it was incontestablythe most dramatic, but also because it is supported by those moralpresumptions which have such weight with us when considering a dark anddoubtful question like the one before us. It will, be objected, perhaps, that dramatic writers, in their love of the marvellous and the pathetic, neglect logic and strain after effect, their aim being to obtain theapplause of the gallery rather than the approbation of the learned. Butto this it may be replied that the learned on their part sacrifice agreat deal to their love of dates, more or less exact; to their desireto elucidate some point which had hitherto been considered obscure, andwhich their explanations do not always clear up; to the temptation todisplay their proficiency in the ingenious art of manipulating facts andfigures culled from a dozen musty volumes into one consistent whole. 

Our interest in this strange case of imprisonment arises, not alone fromits completeness and duration, but also from our uncertainty as tothe motives from which it was inflicted. Where erudition alone cannotsuffice; where bookworm after bookworm, disdaining the conjecturesof his predecessors, comes forward with a new theory founded on someforgotten document he has hunted out, only to find himself in his turnpushed into oblivion by some follower in his track, we must turn forguidance to some other light than that of scholarship; especially if, onstrict investigation, we find that not one learned solution rests on asound basis of fact. 

In the question before us, which, as we said before, is a doubleone, asking not only who was the Man in the Iron Mask, but why he wasrelentlessly subjected to this torture till the moment of hisdeath, what we need in order to restrain our fancy is mathematicaldemonstration, and not philosophical induction. 

While I do not go so far as to assert positively that Abbe Soulavie hasonce for all lifted the veil which hid the truth, I am yet persuadedthat no other system of research is superior to his, and that no othersuggested solution has so many presumptions in its favour. I have notreached this firm conviction on account of the great and prolongedsuccess of our drama, but because of the ease with which all theopinions adverse to those of the abbe may be annihilated by pitting themone against the other. 

The qualities that make for success being quite different in a noveland in a drama, I could easily have founded a romance on the fictitiousloves of Buckingham and the queen, or on a supposed secret marriagebetween her and Cardinal Mazarin, calling to my aid a work bySaint-Mihiel which the bibliophile declares he has never read, althoughit is assuredly neither rare nor difficult of access. I might also havemerely expanded my drama, restoring to the personages therein their truenames and relative positions, both of which the exigencies of the stagehad sometimes obliged me to alter, and while allowing them to fill thesame parts, making them act more in accordance with historical fact. Nofable however far-fetched, no grouping of characters however improbable, can, however, destroy the interest which the innumerable writings aboutthe Iron Mask excite, although no two agree in details, and althougheach author and each witness declares himself in possession of completeknowledge. No work, however mediocre, however worthless even, whichhas appeared on this subject has ever failed of success, not even, forexample, the strange jumble of Chevalier de Mouhy, a kind of literarybraggart, who was in the pay of Voltaire, and whose work was publishedanonymously in 1746 by Pierre de Hondt of The Hague. It is dividedinto six short parts, and bears the title, 'Le Masque de Fer, ou lesAventures admirables du Pere et du Fils'. An absurd romance by RegnaultWarin, and one at least equally absurd by Madame Guenard, met with alike favourable reception. In writing for the theatre, an author mustchoose one view of a dramatic situation to the exclusion of all others, and in following out this central idea is obliged by the inexorable lawsof logic to push aside everything that interferes with its development. A book, on the contrary, is written to be discussed; it brings under thenotice of the reader all the evidence produced at a trial which has asyet not reached a definite conclusion, and which in the case before uswill never reach it, unless, which is most improbable, some lucky chanceshould lead to some new discovery. 

The first mention of the prisoner is to be found in the 'Memoiressecrets pour servir a l'Histoire de Perse' in one 12mo volume, by ananonymous author, published by the 'Compagnie des Libraires Associesd'Amsterdam' in 1745. 

"Not having any other purpose, " says the author (page 20, 2nd edit. ), "than to relate facts which are not known, or about which no one haswritten, or about which it is impossible to be silent, we refer at onceto a fact which has hitherto almost escaped notice concerning PrinceGiafer (Louis de Bourbon, Comte de Vermandois, son of Louis XIV andMademoiselle de la Valliere), who was visited by Ali-Momajou (the Ducd'Orleans, the regent) in the fortress of Ispahan (the Bastille), inwhich he had been imprisoned for several years. This visit had probablyno other motive than to make sure that this prince was really alive, hehaving been reputed dead of the plague for over thirty years, and hisobsequies having been celebrated in presence of an entire army. 

"Cha-Abas (Louis XIV) had a legitimate son, Sephi-Mirza (Louis, Dauphinof France), and a natural son, Giafer. These two princes, as dissimilarin character as in birth, were always rivals and always at enmitywith each other. One day Giafer so far forgot himself as to strikeSephi-Mirza. Cha-Abas having heard of the insult offered to the heir tothe throne, assembled his most trusted councillors, and laid the conductof the culprit before them--conduct which, according to the law of thecountry, was punishable with death, an opinion in which they all agreed. One of the councillors, however, sympathising more than the others withthe distress of Cha-Abas, suggested that Giafer should be sent to thearmy, which was then on the frontiers of Feidrun (Flanders), and thathis death from plague should be given out a few days after his arrival. Then, while the whole army was celebrating his obsequies, he should becarried off by night, in the greatest secrecy, to the stronghold on theisle of Ormus (Sainte-Marguerite), and there imprisoned for life. 

"This course was adopted, and carried out by faithful and discreetagents. The prince, whose premature death was mourned by the army, beingcarried by unfrequented roads to the isle of Ormus, was placed inthe custody of the commandant of the island, who, had received ordersbeforehand not to allow any person whatever to see the prisoner. Asingle servant who was in possession of the secret was killed by theescort on the journey, and his face so disfigured by dagger thrusts thathe could not be recognised. 

"The commandant treated his prisoner with the most profound respect; hewaited on him at meals himself, taking the dishes from the cooks at thedoor of the apartment, none of whom ever looked on the face of Giafer. One day it occurred to the prince to scratch, his name on the back ofa plate with his knife. One of the servants into whose hands the platefell ran with it at once to the commandant, hoping he would be pleasedand reward the bearer; but the unfortunate man was greatly mistaken, forhe was at once made away with, that his knowledge of such an importantsecret might be buried with himself. 

"Giafer remained several years in the castle Ormus, and was thentransported to the fortress of Ispahan; the commandant of Ormus havingreceived the governorship of Ispahan as a reward for faithful service. 

"At Ispahan, as at Ormus, whenever it was necessary on account ofillness or any other cause to allow anyone to approach the prince, hewas always masked; and several trustworthy persons have asserted thatthey had seen the masked prisoner often, and had noticed that he usedthe familiar 'tu' when addressing the governor, while the lattershowed his charge the greatest respect. As Giafer survived Cha-Abasand Sephi-Mirza by many years, it may be asked why he was never setat liberty; but it must be remembered it would have been impossible torestore a prince to his rank and dignities whose tomb actually existed, and of whose burial there were not only living witnesses but documentaryproofs, the authenticity of which it would have been useless to deny, so firm was the belief, which has lasted down to the present day, thatGiafer died of the plague in camp when with the army on the frontiers ofFlanders. Ali-Homajou died shortly after the visit he paid to Giafer. "

This version of the story, which is the original source of all thecontroversy on the subject, was at first generally received as true. Ona critical examination it fitted in very well with certain events whichtook place in the reign of Louis XIV. 

The Comte de Vermandois had in fact left the court for the camp verysoon after his reappearance there, for he had been banished by the kingfrom his presence some time before for having, in company with severalyoung nobles, indulged in the most reprehensible excesses. 

"The king, " says Mademoiselle de Montpensier ('Memoires de Mademoisellede Montpensier', vol. Xliii. P. 474. , of 'Memoires Relatifs d'Histoirede France', Second Series, published by Petitot), "had not beensatisfied with his conduct and refused to see him. The young prince hadcaused his mother much sorrow, but had been so well lectured that it wasbelieved that he had at last turned over a new leaf. " He only remainedfour days at court, reached the camp before Courtrai early in November1683, was taken ill on the evening of the 12th, and died on the 19th ofthe same month of a malignant fever. Mademoiselle de Montpensier saysthat the Comte de Vermandois "fell ill from drink. "

There are, of course, objections of all kinds to this theory. 

For if, during the four days the comte was at court, he had struck thedauphin, everyone would have heard of the monstrous crime, and yet it isnowhere spoken of, except in the 'Memoires de Perse'. What renders thestory of the blow still more improbable is the difference in agebetween the two princes. The dauphin, who already had a son, the Duc deBourgogne, more than a year old, was born the 1st November 1661, andwas therefore six years older than the Comte de Vermandois. But themost complete answer to the tale is to be found in a letter written byBarbezieux to Saint-Mars, dated the 13th August 1691:--

"When you have any information to send me relative to the prisoner whohas been in your charge for twenty years, I most earnestly enjoin on youto take the same precautions as when you write to M. De Louvois. "

The Comte de Vermandois, the official registration of whose death bearsthe date 1685, cannot have been twenty years a prisoner in 1691. 

Six years after the Man in the Mask had been thus delivered over tothe curiosity of the public, the 'Siecle de Louis XIV' (2 vols. Octavo, Berlin, 1751) was published by Voltaire under the pseudonym of M. De Francheville. Everyone turned to this work, which had been longexpected, for details relating to the mysterious prisoner about whomeveryone was talking. 

Voltaire ventured at length to speak more openly of the prisoner thananyone had hitherto done, and to treat as a matter of history "an eventlong ignored by all historians. " (vol. Ii. P. 11, 1st edition, chap. Xxv. ). He assigned an approximate date to the beginning of thiscaptivity, "some months after the death of Cardinal Mazarin" (1661); hegave a description of the prisoner, who according to him was "youngand dark-complexioned; his figure was above the middle height and wellproportioned; his features were exceedingly handsome, and his bearingwas noble. When he spoke his voice inspired interest; he nevercomplained of his lot, and gave no hint as to his rank. " Nor was themask forgotten: "The part which covered the chin was furnished withsteel springs, which allowed the prisoner to eat without uncoveringhis face. " And, lastly, he fixed the date of the death of the namelesscaptive; who "was buried, " he says, "in 1704. , by night, in the parishchurch of Saint-Paul. "

Voltaire's narrative coincided with the account given in the 'Memoiresde Peyse', save for the omission of the incident which, according tothe 'Memoires', led in the first instance to the imprisonment of Giafer. "The prisoner, " says Voltaire, "was sent to the Iles Sainte-Marguerite, and afterwards to the Bastille, in charge of a trusty official; he worehis mask on the journey, and his escort had orders to shoot him if hetook it off. The Marquis de Louvois visited him while he was on theislands, and when speaking to him stood all the time in a respectfulattitude. The prisoner was removed to the Bastille in 1690, where hewas lodged as comfortably as could be managed in that building; he wassupplied with everything he asked for, especially with the finest linenand the costliest lace, in both of which his taste was perfect; he had aguitar to play on, his table was excellent, and the governor rarely satin his presence. "

Voltaire added a few further details which had been given him by M. DeBernaville, the successor of M. De Saint-Mars, and by an old physicianof the Bastille who had attended the prisoner whenever his healthrequired a doctor, but who had never seen his face, although he had"often seen his tongue and his body. " He also asserted that M. DeChamillart was the last minister who was in the secret, and that whenhis son-in-law, Marshal de la Feuillade, besought him on his knees, deChamillart being on his deathbed, to tell him the name of the Man in theIron Mask, the minister replied that he was under a solemn oath neverto reveal the secret, it being an affair of state. To all these details, which the marshal acknowledges to be correct, Voltaire adds a remarkablenote: "What increases our wonder is, that when the unknown captive wassent to the Iles Sainte-Marguerite no personage of note disappeared fromthe European stage. "

The story of the Comte de Vermandois and the blow was treated as anabsurd and romantic invention, which does not even attempt to keepwithin the bounds of the possible, by Baron C. (according to P. Marchand, Baron Crunyngen) in a letter inserted in the 'Bibliothequeraisonnee des Ouvrages des Savants de d'Europe', June 1745. Thediscussion was revived somewhat later, however, and a few Dutch scholarswere supposed to be responsible for a new theory founded on history; thefoundations proving somewhat shaky, however, --a quality which it shares, we must say, with all the other theories which have ever been advanced. 

According to this new theory, the masked prisoner was a young foreignnobleman, groom of the chambers to Anne of Austria, and the real fatherof Louis XIV. This anecdote appears first in a duodecimo volume printedby Pierre Marteau at Cologne in 1692, and which bears the title, 'TheLoves of Anne of Austria, Consort of Louis XIII, with M. Le C. D. R. , the Real Father of Louis XIV, King of France; being a Minute Accountof the Measures taken to give an Heir to the Throne of France, theInfluences at Work to bring this to pass, and the Denoument of theComedy'. 

This libel ran through five editions, bearing date successively, 1692, 1693, 1696, 1722, and 1738. In the title of the edition of 1696 thewords "Cardinal de Richelieu" are inserted in place of the initials "C. D. R. , " but that this is only a printer's error everyone who reads thework will perceive. Some have thought the three letters stood for Comtede Riviere, others for Comte de Rochefort, whose 'Memoires' compiled bySandras de Courtilz supply these initials. The author of the book wasan Orange writer in the pay of William III, and its object was, he says, "to unveil the great mystery of iniquity which hid the true origin ofLouis XIV. " He goes on to remark that "the knowledge of this fraud, although comparatively rare outside France, was widely spread within herborders. The well-known coldness of Louis XIII; the extraordinary birthof Louis-Dieudonne, so called because he was born in the twenty-thirdyear of a childless marriage, and several other remarkable circumstancesconnected with the birth, all point clearly to a father other than theprince, who with great effrontery is passed off by his adherents assuch. The famous barricades of Paris, and the organised revolt led bydistinguished men against Louis XIV on his accession to the throne, proclaimed aloud the king's illegitimacy, so that it rang through thecountry; and as the accusation had reason on its side, hardly anyonedoubted its truth. "

We give below a short abstract of the narrative, the plot of which israther skilfully constructed:--

"Cardinal Richelieu, looking with satisfied pride at the love of Gaston, Duc d'Orleans, brother of the king, for his niece Parisiatis (Madamede Combalet), formed the plan of uniting the young couple in marriage. Gaston taking the suggestion as an insult, struck the cardinal. PereJoseph then tried to gain the cardinal's consent and that of his nieceto an attempt to deprive Gaston of the throne, which the childlessmarriage of Louis XIII seemed to assure him. A young man, the C. D. R. Of the book, was introduced into Anne of Austria's room, who though awife in name had long been a widow in reality. She defended herself butfeebly, and on seeing the cardinal next day said to him, 'Well, you havehad your wicked will; but take good care, sir cardinal, that I mayfind above the mercy and goodness which you have tried by many pioussophistries to convince me is awaiting me. Watch over my soul, I chargeyou, for I have yielded!' The queen having given herself up to love forsome time, the joyful news that she would soon become a mother began tospread over the kingdom. In this manner was born Louis XIV, theputative son of Louis XIII. If this instalment of the tale be favourablyreceived, says the pamphleteer, the sequel will soon follow, in whichthe sad fate of C. D. R. Will be related, who was made to pay dearly forhis short-lived pleasure. "

Although the first part was a great success, the promised sequelnever appeared. It must be admitted that such a story, though it neverconvinced a single person of the illegitimacy of Louis XIV, was anexcellent prologue to the tale of the unfortunate lot of the Man inthe Iron Mask, and increased the interest and curiosity with which thatsingular historical mystery was regarded. But the views of the Dutchscholars thus set forth met with little credence, and were soonforgotten in a new solution. 

The third historian to write about the prisoner of the IlesSainte-Marguerite was Lagrange-Chancel. He was just twenty-nine years ofage when, excited by Freron's hatred of Voltaire, he addressed a letterfrom his country place, Antoniat, in Perigord, to the 'Annee Litteraire'(vol. Iii. P. 188), demolishing the theory advanced in the 'Sieclede Louis XIV', and giving facts which he had collected whilst himselfimprisoned in the same place as the unknown prisoner twenty years later. 

"My detention in the Iles-Saint-Marguerite, " says Lagrange-Chancel, "brought many things to my knowledge which a more painstaking historianthan M. De Voltaire would have taken the trouble to find out; for at thetime when I was taken to the islands the imprisonment of the Man in theIron Mask was no longer regarded as a state secret. This extraordinaryevent, which M. De Voltaire places in 1662, a few months after the deathof Cardinal Mazarin, did not take place till 1669, eight years after thedeath of His Eminence. M. De La Motte-Guerin, commandant of the islandsin my time, assured me that the prisoner was the Duc de Beaufort, whowas reported killed at the siege of Candia, but whose body had neverbeen recovered, as all the narratives of that event agree in stating. Healso told me that M. De Saint-Mars, who succeeded Pignerol as governorof the islands, showed great consideration for the prisoner, that hewaited on him at table, that the service was of silver, and that theclothes supplied to the prisoner were as costly as he desired; that whenhe was ill and in need of a physician or surgeon, he was obliged underpain of death to wear his mask in their presence, but that when he wasalone he was permitted to pull out the hairs of his beard with steeltweezers, which were kept bright and polished. I saw a pair of thesewhich had been actually used for this purpose in the possession of M. DeFormanoir, nephew of Saint-Mars, and lieutenant of a Free Company raisedfor the purpose of guarding the prisoners. Several persons told me thatwhen Saint-Mars, who had been placed over the Bastille, conducted hischarge thither, the latter was heard to say behind his iron mask, 'Hasthe king designs on my life?' To which Saint-Mars replied, 'No, myprince; your life is safe: you must only let yourself be guided. '

"I also learned from a man called Dubuisson, cashier to the well-knownSamuel Bernard, who, having been imprisoned for some years in theBastile, was removed to the Iles Sainte-Marguerite, where he wasconfined along with some others in a room exactly over the one occupiedby the unknown prisoner. He told me that they were able to communicatewith him by means of the flue of the chimney, but on asking him why hepersisted in not revealing his name and the cause of his imprisonment, he replied that such an avowal would be fatal not only to him but tothose to whom he made it. 

"Whether it were so or not, to-day the name and rank of this politicalvictim are secrets the preservation of which is no longer necessary tothe State; and I have thought that to tell the public what I know wouldcut short the long chain of circumstances which everyone was forgingaccording to his fancy, instigated thereto by an author whose gift ofrelating the most impossible events in such a manner as to make themseem true has won for all his writings such success--even for his Vie deCharles XII. "

This theory, according to Jacob, is more probable than any of theothers. 

"Beginning with the year 1664. , " he says, "the Duc de Beaufort hadby his insubordination and levity endangered the success of severalmaritime expeditions. In October 1666 Louis XIV remonstrated with himwith much tact, begging him to try to make himself more and more capablein the service of his king by cultivating the talents with which he wasendowed, and ridding himself of the faults which spoilt his conduct. 'Ido not doubt, ' he concludes, 'that you will be all the more grateful tome for this mark of my benevolence towards you, when you reflect how fewkings have ever shown their goodwill in a similar manner. '" ( 'Oeuvresde Louis XIV', vol. V. P. 388). Several calamities in the royal navy areknown to have been brought about by the Duc de Beaufort. M. EugeneSue, in his 'Histoire de la Marine', which is full of new and curiousinformation, has drawn a very good picture of the position of the "roides halles, " the "king of the markets, " in regard to Colbert and LouisXIV. Colbert wished to direct all the manoeuvres of the fleet from hisstudy, while it was commanded by the naval grandmaster in the capriciousmanner which might be expected from his factious character and love ofbluster (Eugene Sue, vol. I. , 'Pieces Justificatives'). In 1699 LouisXIV sent the Duc de Beaufort to the relief of Candia, which the Turkswere besieging. Seven hours after his arrival Beaufort was killed ina sortie. The Duc de Navailles, who shared with him the command of theFrench squadron, simply reported his death as follows: "He met a body ofTurks who were pressing our troops hard: placing himself at the head ofthe latter, he fought valiantly, but at length his soldiers abandonedhim, and we have not been able to learn his fate" ('Memoires du Duc deNavailles', book iv. P. 243)

The report of his death spread rapidly through France and Italy;magnificent funeral services were held in Paris, Rome, and Venice, andfuneral orations delivered. Nevertheless, many believed that he wouldone day reappear, as his body had never been recovered. 

Guy Patin mentions this belief, which he did not share, in two of hisletters:--

"Several wagers have been laid that M. De Beaufort is not dead! 'Outinam'!" (Guy Patin, September 26, 1669). 

"It is said that M. De Vivonne has been granted by commission the postof vice-admiral of France for twenty years; but there are many whobelieve that the Duc de Beaufort is not dead, but imprisoned in someTurkish island. Believe this who may, I don't; he is really dead, andthe last thing I should desire would be to be as dead as he", (Ibid. , January 14, 1670). 

The following are the objections to this theory:

"In several narratives written by eye-witnesses of the siege of Candia, "says Jacob, "it is related that the Turks, according to their custom, despoiled the body and cut off the head of the Duc de Beaufort onthe field of battle, and that the latter was afterwards exhibited atConstantinople; and this may account for some of the details given bySandras de Courtilz in his 'Memoires du Marquis de Montbrun' and his'Memoires d'Artagnan', for one can easily imagine that the naked, headless body might escape recognition. M. Eugene Sue, in his 'Histoirede la Marine' (vol. Ii, chap. 6), had adopted this view, which coincideswith the accounts left by Philibert de Jarry and the Marquis deVille, the MSS. Of whose letters and 'Memoires' are to be found in theBibliotheque du Roi. 

"In the first volume of the 'Histoire de la Detention des Philosopheset des Gens de Lettres a la Bastille, etc. ', we find the followingpassage:--

"Without dwelling on the difficulty and danger of an abduction, whichan Ottoman scimitar might any day during this memorable siege renderunnecessary, we shall restrict ourselves to declaring positively thatthe correspondence of Saint-Mars from 1669 to 1680 gives us no groundfor supposing that the governor of Pignerol had any great prisonerof state in his charge during that period of time, except Fouquet andLauzun. '"

While we profess no blind faith in the conclusions arrived at by thelearned critic, we would yet add to the considerations on which herelies another, viz. That it is most improbable that Louis XIV shouldever have considered it necessary to take such rigorous measures againstthe Duc de Beaufort. Truculent and self-confident as he was, he neveracted against the royal authority in such a manner as to oblige the kingto strike him down in secret; and it is difficult to believe thatLouis XIV, peaceably seated on his throne, with all the enemies of hisminority under his feet, should have revenged himself on the duke as anold Frondeur. 

The critic calls our attention to another fact also adverse to thetheory under consideration. The Man in the Iron Mask loved fine linenand rich lace, he was reserved in character and possessed of extremerefinement, and none of this suits the portraits of the 'roi des halles'which contemporary historians have drawn. 

Regarding the anagram of the name Marchiali (the name under which thedeath of the prisoner was registered), 'hic amiral', as a proof, we cannot think that the gaolers of Pignerol amused themselvesin propounding conundrums to exercise the keen intellect of theircontemporaries; and moreover the same anagram would apply equally wellto the Count of Vermandois, who was made admiral when only twenty-twomonths old. Abbe Papon, in his roamings through Provence, paid a visitto the prison in which the Iron Mask was confined, and thus speaks:--

"It was to the Iles Sainte-Marguerite that the famous prisoner with theiron mask whose name has never been discovered, was transported at theend of the last century; very few of those attached to his service wereallowed to speak to him. One day, as M. De Saint-Mars was conversingwith him, standing outside his door, in a kind of corridor, so as to beable to see from a distance everyone who approached, the son of one ofthe governor's friends, hearing the voices, came up; Saint-Mars quicklyclosed the door of the room, and, rushing to meet the young man, askedhim with an air of great anxiety if he had overheard anything that wassaid. Having convinced himself that he had heard nothing, the governorsent the young man away the same day, and wrote to the father that theadventure was like to have cost the son dear, and that he had sent himback to his home to prevent any further imprudence. 

"I was curious enough to visit the room in which the unfortunate man wasimprisoned, on the 2nd of February 1778. It is lighted by one windowto the north, overlooking the sea, about fifteen feet above the terracewhere the sentries paced to and fro. This window was pierced through avery thick wall and the embrasure barricaded by three iron bars, thusseparating the prisoner from the sentries by a distance of over twofathoms. I found an officer of the Free Company in the fortress whowas nigh on fourscore years old; he told me that his father, who hadbelonged to the same Company, had often related to him how a friar hadseen something white floating on the water under the prisoner's window. On being fished out and carried to M. De Saint-Mars, it proved to be ashirt of very fine material, loosely folded together, and covered withwriting from end to end. M. De Saint-Mars spread it out and read a fewwords, then turning to the friar who had brought it he asked him in anembarrassed manner if he had been led by curiosity to read any of thewriting. The friar protested repeatedly that he had not read a line, butnevertheless he was found dead in bed two days later. This incident wastold so often to my informant by his father and by the chaplain ofthe fort of that time that he regarded it as incontestably true. Thefollowing fact also appears to me to be equally well established by thetestimony of many witnesses. I collected all the evidence I could onthe spot, and also in the Lerins monastery, where the tradition ispreserved. 

"A female attendant being wanted for the prisoner, a woman of thevillage of Mongin offered herself for the place, being under theimpression that she would thus be able to make her children's fortune;but on being told that she would not only never be allowed to see herchildren again, but would be cut off from the rest of the world as well, she refused to be shut up with a prisoner whom it cost so much to serve. I may mention here that at the two outer angles of the wall of the fortwhich faced the sea two sentries were placed, with orders to fire on anyboat which approached within a certain distance. 

"The prisoner's personal attendant died in the Iles Sainte-Marguerite. The brother of the officer whom I mentioned above was partly in theconfidence of M. De Saint-Mars, and he often told how he was summoned tothe prison once at midnight and ordered to remove a corpse, and that hecarried it on his shoulders to the burial-place, feeling certain it wasthe prisoner who was dead; but it was only his servant, and it was thenthat an effort was made to supply his place by a female attendant. "

Abbe Papon gives some curious details, hitherto unknown to the public, but as he mentions no names his narrative cannot be considered asevidence. Voltaire never replied to Lagrange-Chancel, who died thesame year in which his letter was published. Freron desiring to revengehimself for the scathing portrait which Voltaire had drawn of him in the'Ecossaise', called to his assistance a more redoubtable adversarythan Lagrange-Chancel. Sainte-Foix had brought to the front a brandnew theory, founded on a passage by Hume in an article in the 'AnneeLitteraire (1768, vol. Iv. ), in which he maintained that the Man in theIron Mask was the Duke of Monmouth, a natural son of Charles II, whowas found guilty of high treason and beheaded in London on the 15th July1685. 

This is what the English historian says:

"It was commonly reported in London that the Duke of Monmouth's life hadbeen saved, one of his adherents who bore a striking resemblance to theduke having consented to die in his stead, while the real culpritwas secretly carried off to France, there to undergo a lifelongimprisonment. "

The great affection which the English felt for the Duke of Monmouth, andhis own conviction that the people only needed a leader to induce themto shake off the yoke of James II, led him to undertake an enterprisewhich might possibly have succeeded had it been carried out withprudence. He landed at Lyme, in Dorset, with only one hundred and twentymen; six thousand soon gathered round his standard; a few towns declaredin his favour; he caused himself to be proclaimed king, affirming thathe was born in wedlock, and that he possessed the proofs of thesecret marriage of Charles II and Lucy Waiters, his mother. He met theRoyalists on the battlefield, and victory seemed to be on his side, whenjust at the decisive moment his ammunition ran short. Lord Gray, whocommanded the cavalry, beat a cowardly retreat, the unfortunate Monmouthwas taken prisoner, brought to London, and beheaded. 

The details published in the 'Siecle de Louis XIV' as to the personalappearance of the masked prisoner might have been taken as a descriptionof Monmouth, who possessed great physical beauty. Sainte-Foix hadcollected every scrap of evidence in favour of his solution of themystery, making use even of the following passage from an anonymousromance called 'The Loves of Charles II and James II, Kings ofEngland':--

"The night of the pretended execution of the Duke of Monmouth, the king, attended by three men, came to the Tower and summoned the duke to hispresence. A kind of loose cowl was thrown over his head, and he was putinto a carriage, into which the king and his attendants also got, andwas driven away. "

Sainte-Foix also referred to the alleged visit of Saunders, confessorto James II, paid to the Duchess of Portsmouth after the death of thatmonarch, when the duchess took occasion to say that she could neverforgive King James for consenting to Monmouth's execution, in spite ofthe oath he had taken on the sacred elements at the deathbed of CharlesII that he would never take his natural brother's life, even in case ofrebellion. To this the priest replied quickly, "The king kept his oath. "

Hume also records this solemn oath, but we cannot say that all thehistorians agree on this point. 'The Universal History' by Guthrie andGray, and the 'Histoire d'Angleterre' by Rapin, Thoyras and de Barrow, do not mention it. 

"Further, " wrote Sainte-Foix, "an English surgeon called Nelaton, whofrequented the Cafe Procope, much affected by men of letters, oftenrelated that during the time he was senior apprentice to a surgeon wholived near the Porte Saint-Antoine, he was once taken to the Bastilleto bleed a prisoner. He was conducted to this prisoner's room by thegovernor himself, and found the patient suffering from violent headache. He spoke with an English accent, wore a gold-flowered dressing-gown ofblack and orange, and had his face covered by a napkin knotted behindhis head. "

This story does not hold water: it would be difficult to form a mask outof a napkin; the Bastille had a resident surgeon of its own as well as aphysician and apothecary; no one could gain access to a prisonerwithout a written order from a minister, even the Viaticum could only beintroduced by the express permission of the lieutenant of police. 

This theory met at first with no objections, and seemed to be goingto oust all the others, thanks, perhaps, to the combative and restivecharacter of its promulgator, who bore criticism badly, and whom no onecared to incense, his sword being even more redoubtable than his pen. 

It was known that when Saint-Mars journeyed with his prisoner tothe Bastille, they had put up on the way at Palteau, in Champagne, aproperty belonging to the governor. Freron therefore addressed himselfto a grand-nephew of Saint-Mars, who had inherited this estate, askingif he could give him any information about this visit. The followingreply appeared in the 'Annee Litteraire (June 1768):--

"As it appears from the letter of M. De Sainte-Foix from which youquote that the Man in the Iron Mask still exercises the fancy of yourjournalists, I am willing to tell you all I know about the prisoner. Hewas known in the islands of Sainte-Marguerite and at the Bastille as'La Tour. ' The governor and all the other officials showed him greatrespect, and supplied him with everything he asked for that could begranted to a prisoner. He often took exercise in the yard of the prison, but never without his mask on. It was not till the 'Siecle' of M. DeVoltaire appeared that I learned that the mask was of iron and furnishedwith springs; it may be that the circumstance was overlooked, but henever wore it except when taking the air, or when he had to appearbefore a stranger. 

"M. De Blainvilliers, an infantry officer who was acquainted with M. De Saint-Mars both at Pignerol and Sainte-Marguerite, has often told methat the lot of 'La Tour' greatly excited his curiosity, and that he hadonce borrowed the clothes and arms of a soldier whose turn it was to besentry on the terrace under the prisoner's window at Sainte-Marguerite, and undertaken the duty himself; that he had seen the prisonerdistinctly, without his mask; that his face was white, that he was talland well proportioned, except that his ankles were too thick, and thathis hair was white, although he appeared to be still in the prime oflife. He passed the whole of the night in question pacing to and fro inhis room. Blainvilliers added that he was always dressed in brown, thathe had plenty of fine linen and books, that the governor and the otherofficers always stood uncovered in his presence till he gave them leaveto cover and sit down, and that they often bore him company at table. 

"In 1698 M. De Saint-Mars was promoted from the governorship of theIles Sainte-Marguerite to that of the Bastille. In moving thither, accompanied by his prisoner, he made his estate of Palteau ahalting-place. The masked man arrived in a litter which preceded that ofM. De Saint-Mars, and several mounted men rode beside it. The peasantswere assembled to greet their liege lord. M. De Saint-Mars dined withhis prisoner, who sat with his back to the dining-room windows, whichlooked out on the court. None of the peasants whom I have questionedwere able to see whether the man kept his mask on while eating, but theyall noticed that M. De Saint-Mars, who sat opposite to his charge, laidtwo pistols beside his plate; that only one footman waited at table, who went into the antechamber to change the plates and dishes, alwayscarefully closing the dining-room door behind him. When the prisonercrossed the courtyard his face was covered with a black mask, but thepeasants could see his lips and teeth, and remarked that he was tall, and had white hair. M. De Saint-Mars slept in a bed placed beside theprisoner's. M. De Blainvilliers told me also that 'as soon as he wasdead, which happened in 1704, he was buried at Saint-Paul's, ' and that'the coffin was filled with substances which would rapidly consumethe body. ' He added, 'I never heard that the masked man spoke with anEnglish accent. '"

Sainte-Foix proved the story related by M. De Blainvilliers to be littleworthy of belief, showing by a circumstance mentioned in the letter thatthe imprisoned man could not be the Duc de Beaufort; witness the epigramof Madame de Choisy, "M. De Beaufort longs to bite and can't, " whereasthe peasants had seen the prisoner's teeth through his mask. It appearedas if the theory of Sainte-Foix were going to stand, when a Jesuitfather, named Griffet, who was confessor at the Bastille, devotedchapter xiii, of his 'Traite des differentes Sortes de Preuves quiservent a etablir la Verite dans l'Histoire' (12mo, Liege, 1769) to theconsideration of the Iron Mask. He was the first to quote an authenticdocument which certifies that the Man in the Iron Mask about whom therewas so much disputing really existed. This was the written journal ofM. Du Jonca, King's Lieutenant in the Bastille in 1698, from which PereGriffet took the following passage:--

"On Thursday, September the 8th, 1698, at three o'clock in theafternoon, M. De Saint-Mars, the new governor of the Bastille, enteredupon his duties. He arrived from the islands of Sainte-Marguerite, bringing with him in a litter a prisoner whose name is a secret, andwhom he had had under his charge there, and at Pignerol. This prisoner, who was always masked, was at first placed in the Bassiniere tower, where he remained until the evening. At nine o'clock p. M. I took himto the third room of the Bertaudiere tower, which I had had alreadyfurnished before his arrival with all needful articles, having receivedorders to do so from M. De Saint-Mars. While I was showing him the wayto his room, I was accompanied by M. Rosarges, who had also arrivedalong with M. De Saint-Mars, and whose office it was to wait on the saidprisoner, whose table is to be supplied by the governor. "

Du Jonca's diary records the death of the prisoner in the followingterms:--

"Monday, 19th November 1703. The unknown prisoner, who always wore ablack velvet mask, and whom M. De Saint-Mars brought with him from theIles Sainte-Marguerite, and whom he had so long in charge, felt slightlyunwell yesterday on coming back from mass. He died to-day at 10p. M. Without having a serious illness, indeed it could not have beenslighter. M. Guiraut, our chaplain, confessed him yesterday, but ashis death was quite unexpected he did not receive the last sacraments, although the chaplain was able to exhort him up to the moment of hisdeath. He was buried on Tuesday the 20th November at 4 P. M. In theburial-ground of St. Paul's, our parish church. The funeral expensesamounted to 40 livres. "

His name and age were withheld from the priests of the parish. The entrymade in the parish register, which Pere Griffet also gives, is in thefollowing words:--

"On the 19th November 1703, Marchiali, aged about forty-five, died inthe Bastille, whose body was buried in the graveyard of Saint-Paul's, his parish, on the 20th instant, in the presence of M. Rosarges and ofM. Reilh, Surgeon-Major of the Bastille. 

 "(Signed) ROSARGES. 

 "REILH. "

As soon as he was dead everything belonging to him, without exception, was burned; such as his linen, clothes, bed and bedding, rugs, chairs, and even the doors of the room he occupied. His service of plate wasmelted down, the walls of his room were scoured and whitewashed, thevery floor was renewed, from fear of his having hidden a note under it, or left some mark by which he could be recognised. 

Pere Griffet did not agree with the opinions of either Lagrange-Chancelor Sainte-Foix, but seemed to incline towards the theory set forth inthe 'Memoires de Perse', against which no irrefutable objections hadbeen advanced. He concluded by saying that before arriving at anydecision as to who the prisoner really was, it would be necessary toascertain the exact date of his arrival at Pignerol. 

Sainte-Foix hastened to reply, upholding the soundness of the views hehad advanced. He procured from Arras a copy of an entry in the registersof the Cathedral Chapter, stating that Louis XIV had written with hisown hand to the said Chapter that they were to admit to burial the bodyof the Comte de Vermandois, who had died in the city of Courtrai; thathe desired that the deceased should be interred in the centre of thechoir, in the vault in which lay the remains of Elisabeth, Comtesse deVermandois, wife of Philip of Alsace, Comte de Flanders, who had died in1182. It is not to be supposed that Louis XIV would have chosen a familyvault in which to bury a log of wood. 

Sainte-Foix was, however, not acquainted with the letter of Barbezieux, dated the 13th August 1691, to which we have already referred, as aproof that the prisoner was not the Comte de Vermandois; it is equallya proof that he was not the Duke of Monmouth, as Sainte-Foix maintained;for sentence was passed on the Duke of Monmouth in 1685, so that itcould not be of him either that Barbezieux wrote in 1691, "The prisonerwhom you have had in charge for twenty years. "

In the very year in which Sainte-Foix began to flatter himself thathis theory was successfully established, Baron Heiss brought a new oneforward, in a letter dated "Phalsburg, 28th June 1770, " and addressed tothe 'Journal Enclycopedique'. It was accompanied by a letter translatedfrom the Italian which appeared in the 'Histoire Abregee de l'Europe'by Jacques Bernard, published by Claude Jordan, Leyden, 1685-87, indetached sheets. This letter stated (August 1687, article 'Mantoue')that the Duke of Mantua being desirous to sell his capital, Casale, tothe King of France, had been dissuaded therefrom by his secretary, andinduced to join the other princes of Italy in their endeavours tothwart the ambitious schemes of Louis XVI. The Marquis d'Arcy, French ambassador to the court of Savoy, having been informed of thesecretary's influence, distinguished him by all kinds of civilities, asked him frequently to table, and at last invited him to join a largehunting party two or three leagues outside Turin. They set out together, but at a short distance from the city were surrounded by a dozenhorsemen, who carried off the secretary, 'disguised him, put a mask onhim, and took him to Pignerol. ' He was not kept long in this fortress, as it was 'too near the Italian frontier, and although he was carefullyguarded it was feared that the walls would speak'; so he was transferredto the Iles Sainte-Marguerite, where he is at present in the custody ofM. De Saint-Mars. 

This theory, of which much was heard later, did not at first excite muchattention. What is certain is that the Duke of Mantua's secretary, by name Matthioli, was arrested in 1679 through the agency of Abbed'Estrade and M. De Catinat, and taken with the utmost secrecy toPignerol, where he was imprisoned and placed in charge of M. DeSaint-Mars. He must not, however, be confounded with the Man in the IronMask. 

Catinat says of Matthioli in a letter to Louvois "No one knows the nameof this knave. "

Louvois writes to Saint-Mars: "I admire your patience in waiting foran order to treat such a rogue as he deserves, when he treats you withdisrespect. "

Saint-Mars replies to the minister: "I have charged Blainvilliers toshow him a cudgel and tell him that with its aid we can make the frowardmeek. "

Again Louvois writes: "The clothes of such people must be made to lastthree or four years. "

This cannot have been the nameless prisoner who was treated with suchconsideration, before whom Louvois stood bare-headed, who was suppliedwith fine linen and lace, and so on. 

Altogether, we gather from the correspondence of Saint-Mars that theunhappy man alluded to above was confined along with a mad Jacobin, andat last became mad himself, and succumbed to his misery in 1686. 

Voltaire, who was probably the first to supply such inexhaustible foodfor controversy, kept silence and took no part in the discussions. Butwhen all the theories had been presented to the public, he set aboutrefuting them. He made himself very merry, in the seventh editionof 'Questions sur l'Encyclopedie distibuees en forme de Dictionnaire(Geneva, 1791), over the complaisance attributed to Louis XIV in actingas police-sergeant and gaoler for James II, William III, and Anne, withall of whom he was at war. Persisting still in taking 1661 or 1662 asthe date when the incarceration of the masked prisoner began, he attacksthe opinions advanced by Lagrange-Chancel and Pere Griffet, which theyhad drawn from the anonymous 'Memoires secrets pour servir a l'Histoirede Perse'. "Having thus dissipated all these illusions, " he says, "letus now consider who the masked prisoner was, and how old he was whenhe died. It is evident that if he was never allowed to walk in thecourtyard of the Bastille or to see a physician without his mask, itmust have been lest his too striking resemblance to someone should beremarked; he could show his tongue but not his face. As regards his age, he himself told the apothecary at the Bastille, a few days before hisdeath, that he thought he was about sixty; this I have often heardfrom a son-in-law to this apothecary, M. Marsoban, surgeon to MarshalRichelieu, and afterwards to the regent, the Duc d'Orleans. The writerof this article knows perhaps more on this subject than Pere Griffet. But he has said his say. "

This article in the 'Questions on the Encyclopaedia' was followed bysome remarks from the pen of the publisher, which are also, however, attributed by the publishers of Kelh to Voltaire himself. The publisher, who sometimes calls himself the author, puts aside without refutationall the theories advanced, including that of Baron Heiss, and says hehas come to the conclusion that the Iron Mask was, without doubt, abrother and an elder brother of Louis XIV, by a lover of the queen. Anneof Austria had come to persuade herself that hers alone was the faultwhich had deprived Louis XIII [the publisher of this edition overlookedthe obvious typographical error of "XIV" here when he meant, and it onlymakes sense, that it was XIII. D. W. ] of an heir, but the birth of theIron Mask undeceived her. The cardinal, to whom she confided her secret, cleverly arranged to bring the king and queen, who had long lived apart, together again. A second son was the result of this reconciliation; andthe first child being removed in secret, Louis XIV remained in ignoranceof the existence of his half-brother till after his majority. It was thepolicy of Louis XIV to affect a great respect for the royal house, so heavoided much embarrassment to himself and a scandal affecting the memoryof Anne of Austria by adopting the wise and just measure of buryingalive the pledge of an adulterous love. He was thus enabled to avoidcommitting an act of cruelty, which a sovereign less conscientious andless magnanimous would have considered a necessity. 

After this declaration Voltaire made no further reference to the IronMask. This last version of the story upset that of Sainte-Foix. Voltairehaving been initiated into the state secret by the Marquis de Richelieu, we may be permitted to suspect that being naturally indiscreet hepublished the truth from behind the shelter of a pseudonym, or at leastgave a version which approached the truth, but later on realisingthe dangerous significance of his words, he preserved for the futurecomplete silence. 

We now approach the question whether the prince who thus became the IronMask was an illegitimate brother or a twin-brother of Louis XIV. Thefirst was maintained by M. Quentin-Crawfurd; the second by Abbe Soulaviein his 'Memoires du Marechal Duc de Richelieu' (London, 1790). In 1783the Marquis de Luchet, in the 'Journal des Gens du Monde' (vol. Iv. No. 23, p. 282, et seq. ), awarded to Buckingham the honour of the paternityin dispute. In support of this, he quoted the testimony of a lady ofthe house of Saint-Quentin who had been a mistress of the ministerBarbezieux, and who died at Chartres about the middle of the eighteenthcentury. She had declared publicly that Louis XIV had consignedhis elder brother to perpetual imprisonment, and that the mask wasnecessitated by the close resemblance of the two brothers to each other. 

The Duke of Buckingham, who came to France in 1625, in order to escortHenrietta Maria, sister of Louis XIII, to England, where she was tomarry the Prince of Wales, made no secret of his ardent love for thequeen, and it is almost certain that she was not insensible to hispassion. An anonymous pamphlet, 'La Conference du Cardinal Mazarin avecle Gazetier' (Brussels, 1649), says that she was infatuated about him, and allowed him to visit her in her room. She even permitted him to takeoff and keep one of her gloves, and his vanity leading him to show hisspoil, the king heard of it, and was vastly offended. An anecdote, thetruth of which no one has ever denied, relates that one dayBuckingham spoke to the queen with such passion in the presence of herlady-in-waiting, the Marquise de Senecey, that the latter exclaimed, "Besilent, sir, you cannot speak thus to the Queen of France!" According tothis version, the Man in the Iron Mask must have been born at latest in1637, but the mention of any such date would destroy the possibilityof Buckingham's paternity; for he was assassinated at Portsmouth onSeptember 2nd, 1628. 

After the taking of the Bastille the masked prisoner became thefashionable topic of discussion, and one heard of nothing else. On the13th of August 1789 it was announced in an article in a journal called'Loisirs d'un Patriote francais', which was afterwards publishedanonymously as a pamphlet, that the publisher had seen, among otherdocuments found in the Bastille, a card bearing the unintelligiblenumber "64389000, " and the following note: "Fouquet, arriving from LesIles Sainte-Marguerite in an iron mask. " To this there was, it was said, a double signature, viz. "XXX, " superimposed on the name "Kersadion. "The journalist was of opinion that Fouquet had succeeded in making hisescape, but had been retaken and condemned to pass for dead, and to weara mask henceforward, as a punishment for his attempted evasion. Thistale made some impression, for it was remembered that in the Supplementto the 'Siecle de Louis XIV' it was stated that Chamillart had said that"the Iron Mask was a man who knew all the secrets of M. Fouquet. " Butthe existence of this card was never proved, and we cannot accept thestory on the unsupported word of an anonymous writer. 

From the time that restrictions on the press were removed, hardly a daypassed without the appearance of some new pamphlet on the Iron Mask. Louis Dutens, in 'Correspondence interceptee' (12mo, 1789), revived thetheory of Baron Heiss, supporting it by new and curious facts. He provedthat Louis XIV had really ordered one of the Duke of Mantua's ministersto be carried off and imprisoned in Pignerol. Dutens gave the name ofthe victim as Girolamo Magni. He also quoted from a memorandum which bythe wish of the Marquis de Castellane was drawn up by a certain Souchon, probably the man whom Papon questioned in 1778. This Souchon was the sonof a man who had belonged to the Free Company maintained in theislands in the time of Saint-Mars, and was seventy-nine years old. Thismemorandum gives a detailed account of the abduction of a minister in1679, who is styled a "minister of the Empire, " and his arrival asa masked prisoner at the islands, and states that he died there incaptivity nine years after he was carried off. 

Dutens thus divests the episode of the element of the marvellous withwhich Voltaire had surrounded it. He called to his aid the testimony ofthe Duc de Choiseul, who, having in vain attempted to worm the secretof the Iron Mask out of Louis XV, begged Madame de Pompadour to tryher hand, and was told by her that the prisoner was the minister of anItalian prince. At the same time that Dutens wrote, "There is no fact inhistory better established than the fact that the Man in the Iron Maskwas a minister of the Duke of Mantua who was carried off from Turin, " M. Quentin-Crawfurd was maintaining that the prisoner was a son of Anne ofAustria; while a few years earlier Bouche, a lawyer, in his 'Essai surl'Histoire de Provence' (2 vols. 4to, 1785), had regarded this storyas a fable invented by Voltaire, and had convinced himself that theprisoner was a woman. As we see, discussion threw no light on thesubject, and instead of being dissipated, the confusion became ever"worse confounded. "

In 1790 the 'Memoires du Marechal de Richelieu' appeared. He had lefthis note-books, his library, and his correspondence to Soulavie. The'Memoires' are undoubtedly authentic, and have, if not certainty, atleast a strong moral presumption in their favour, and gained the beliefof men holding diverse opinions. But before placing under the eyes ofour readers extracts from them relating to the Iron Mask, let us refreshour memory by recalling two theories which had not stood the test ofthorough investigation. 

According to some MS. Notes left by M. De Bonac, French ambassador atConstantinople in 1724, the Armenian Patriarch Arwedicks, a mortal enemyof our Church and the instigator of the terrible persecutions to whichthe Roman Catholics were subjected, was carried off into exile at therequest of the Jesuits by a French vessel, and confined in aprison whence there was no escape. This prison was the fortress ofSainte-Marguerite, and from there he was taken to the Bastille, where hedied. The Turkish Government continually clamoured for his release till1723, but the French Government persistently denied having taken anypart in the abduction. 

Even if it were not a matter of history that Arwedicks went over to theRoman Catholic Church and died a free man in Paris, as may be seen by aninspection of the certificate of his death preserved among the archivesin the Foreign Office, one sentence from the note-book of M. De Bonacwould be sufficient to annihilate this theory. M. De Bonac says thatthe Patriarch was carried off, while M. De Feriol, who succeeded M. DeChateauneuf in 1699, was ambassador at Constantinople. Now it was in1698 that Saint-Mars arrived at the Bastille with his masked prisoner. 

Several English scholars have sided with Gibbon in thinking that theMan in the Iron Mask might possibly have been Henry, the second son ofOliver Cromwell, who was held as a hostage by Louis XIV. 

By an odd coincidence the second son of the Lord Protector does entirelydisappear from the page of history in 1659; we know nothing of where heafterwards lived nor when he died. But why should he be a prisoner ofstate in France, while his elder brother Richard was permitted to livethere quite openly? In the absence of all proof, we cannot attach theleast importance to this explanation of the mystery. 

We now come to the promised extracts from the 'Memoires du Marechal deRichelieu':

"Under the late king there was a time when every class of society wasasking who the famous personage really was who went by the name of theIron Mask, but I noticed that this curiosity abated somewhat after hisarrival at the Bastille with Saint-Mars, when it began to be reportedthat orders had been given to kill him should he let his name be known. Saint-Mars also let it be understood that whoever found out the secretwould share the same fate. This threat to murder both the prisoner andthose who showed too much curiosity about him made such an impression, that during the lifetime of the late king people only spoke of themystery below their breath. The anonymous author of 'Les Memoires dePerse', which were published in Holland fifteen years after the death ofLouis XIV, was the first who dared to speak publicly of the prisoner andrelate some anecdotes about him. 

"Since the publication of that work, liberty of speech and the freedomof the press have made great strides, and the shade of Louis XIV havinglost its terrors, the case of the Iron Mask is freely discussed, and yeteven now, at the end of my life and seventy years after the death of theking, people are still asking who the Man in the Iron Mask really was. 

"This question was one I put to the adorable princess, beloved of theregent, who inspired in return only aversion and respect, all her lovebeing given to me. As everyone was persuaded that the regent knew thename, the course of life, and the cause of the imprisonment of themasked prisoner, I, being more venturesome in my curiosity than others, tried through my princess to fathom the secret. She had hithertoconstantly repulsed the advances of the Duc d' Orleans, but as theardour of his passion was thereby in no wise abated, the least glimpseof hope would be sufficient to induce him to grant her everything sheasked; I persuaded her, therefore, to let him understand that if hewould allow her to read the 'Memoires du Masque' which were in hispossession his dearest desires would be fulfilled. 

"The Duc d'Orleans had never been known to reveal any secret of state, being unspeakably circumspect, and having been trained to keep everyconfidence inviolable by his preceptor Dubois, so I felt quite certainthat even the princess would fail in her efforts to get a sight of thememoranda in his possession relative to the birth and rank of the maskedprisoner; but what cannot love, and such an ardent love, induce a man todo?

"To reward her goodness the regent gave the documents into her hands, and she forwarded them to me next day, enclosed in a note written incipher, which, according to the laws of historical writing, I reproducein its entirety, vouching for its authenticity; for the princess alwaysemployed a cipher when she used the language of gallantry, and this notetold me what treaty she had had to sign in order that she might obtainthe documents, and the duke the desire of his heart. The details are notadmissible in serious history, but, borrowing the modest language of thepatriarchal time, I may say that if Jacob, before he obtained possessionof the best beloved of Laban's daughters, was obliged to pay the pricetwice over, the regent drove a better bargain than the patriarch. Thenote and the memorandum were as follows: "'2. 1. 17. 12. 9. 2. 20. 2. 1. 7. 14 20. 10. 3. 21. 1. 11. 14. 1. 15. 16. 12. 17. 14. 2. 1. 21. 11. 20. 17. 12. 9. 14. 9. 2. 8. 20. 5. 20. 2. 2. 17. 8. 1. 2. 20. 9. 21. 21. 1. 5. 12. 17. 15. 00. 14. 1. 15. 14. 12. 9. 21. 5. 12. 9. 21. 16. 20. 14. 8. 3. 

"'NARRATIVE OF THE BIRTH AND EDUCATION OF THE UNFORTUNATE PRINCE WHOWAS SEPARATED FROM THE WORLD BY CARDINALS RICHELIEU AND MAZARIN ANDIMPRISONED BY ORDER OF LOUIS XIV. 

"'Drawn up by the Governor of this Prince on his deathbed. 

"'The unfortunate prince whom I brought up and had in charge till almostthe end of my life was born on the 5th September 1638 at 8. 30 o'clockin the evening, while the king was at supper. His brother, who is now onthe throne, was born at noon while the king was at dinner, but whereashis birth was splendid and public, that of his brother was sad andsecret; for the king being informed by the midwife that the queen wasabout to give birth to a second child, ordered the chancellor, themidwife, the chief almoner, the queen's confessor, and myself to stayin her room to be witnesses of whatever happened, and of his course ofaction should a second child be born. 

"'For a long time already it had been foretold to the king that his wifewould give birth to two sons, and some days before, certain shepherdshad arrived in Paris, saying they were divinely inspired, so that it wassaid in Paris that if two dauphins were born it would be the greatestmisfortune which could happen to the State. The Archbishop of Parissummoned these soothsayers before him, and ordered them to be imprisonedin Saint-Lazare, because the populace was becoming excited about them--acircumstance which filled the king with care, as he foresaw much troubleto his kingdom. What had been predicted by the soothsayers happened, whether they had really been warned by the constellations, or whetherProvidence by whom His Majesty had been warned of the calamities whichmight happen to France interposed. The king had sent a messenger to thecardinal to tell him of this prophecy, and the cardinal had replied thatthe matter, must be considered, that the birth of two dauphins was notimpossible, and should such a case arrive, the second must be carefullyhidden away, lest in the future desiring to be king he should fightagainst his brother in support of a new branch of the royal house, andcome at last to reign. 

"'The king in his suspense felt very uncomfortable, and as the queenbegan to utter cries we feared a second confinement. We sent to informthe king, who was almost overcome by the thought that he was about tobecome the father of two dauphins. He said to the Bishop of Meaux, whomhe had sent for to minister to the queen, "Do not quit my wife till sheis safe; I am in mortal terror. " Immediately after he summoned usall, the Bishop of Meaux, the chancellor M. Honorat, Dame Peronete themidwife, and myself, and said to us in presence of the queen, so thatshe could hear, that we would answer to him with our heads if we madeknown the birth of a second dauphin; that it was his will that the factshould remain a state secret, to prevent the misfortunes which wouldelse happen, the Salic Law not having declared to whom the inheritanceof the kingdom should come in case two eldest sons were born to any ofthe kings. 

"'What had been foretold happened: the queen, while the king was atsupper, gave birth to a second dauphin, more dainty and more beautifulthan the first, but who wept and wailed unceasingly, as if he regrettedto take up that life in which he was afterwards to endure suchsuffering. The chancellor drew up the report of this wonderful birth, without parallel in our history; but His Majesty not being pleased withits form, burned it in our presence, and the chancellor had to write andrewrite till His Majesty was satisfied. The almoner remonstrated, sayingit would be impossible to hide the birth of a prince, but the kingreturned that he had reasons of state for all he did. 

"'Afterwards the king made us register our oath, the chancellor signingit first, then the queen's confessor, and I last. The oath was alsosigned by the surgeon and midwife who attended on the queen, and theking attached this document to the report, taking both away with him, and I never heard any more of either. I remember that His Majestyconsulted with the chancellor as to the form of the oath, and that hespoke for a long time in an undertone to the cardinal: after which thelast-born child was given into the charge of the midwife, and as theywere always afraid she would babble about his birth, she has told methat they often threatened her with death should she ever mention it:we were also forbidden to speak, even to each other, of the child whosebirth we had witnessed. 

"'Not one of us has as yet violated his oath; for His Majesty dreadednothing so much as a civil war brought about by the two children borntogether, and the cardinal, who afterwards got the care of the secondchild into his hands, kept that fear alive. The king also commanded usto examine the unfortunate prince minutely; he had a wart above theleft elbow, a mole on the right side of his neck, and a tiny wart onhis right thigh; for His Majesty was determined, and rightly so, thatin case of the decease of the first-born, the royal infant whom he wasentrusting to our care should take his place; wherefore he required oursignmanual to the report of the birth, to which a small royal sealwas attached in our presence, and we all signed it after His Majesty, according as he commanded. As to the shepherds who had foretold thedouble birth, never did I hear another word of them, but neither did Iinquire. The cardinal who took the mysterious infant in charge probablygot them out of the country. 

"'All through the infancy of the second prince Dame Peronete treatedhim as if he were her own child, giving out that his father was a greatnobleman; for everyone saw by the care she lavished on him and theexpense she went to, that although unacknowledged he was the cherishedson of rich parents, and well cared for. 

"'When the prince began to grow up, Cardinal Mazarin, who succeededCardinal Richelieu in the charge of the prince's education, gave himinto my hands to bring up in a manner worthy of a king's son, but insecret. Dame Peronete continued in his service till her death, and wasvery much attached to him, and he still more to her. The prince wasinstructed in my house in Burgundy, with all the care due to the son andbrother of a king. 

"'I had several conversations with the queen mother during the troublesin France, and Her Majesty always seemed to fear that if the existenceof the prince should be discovered during the lifetime of his brother, the young king, malcontents would make it a pretext for rebellion, because many medical men hold that the last-born of twins is in realitythe elder, and if so, he was king by right, while many others have adifferent opinion. 

"'In spite of this dread, the queen could never bring herself to destroythe written evidence of his birth, because in case of the death of theyoung king she intended to have his twin-brother proclaimed. She told meoften that the written proofs were in her strong box. 

"'I gave the ill-starred prince such an education as I should have likedto receive myself, and no acknowledged son of a king ever had a better. The only thing for which I have to reproach myself is that, withoutintending it, I caused him great unhappiness; for when he was nineteenyears old he had a burning desire to know who he was, and as he saw thatI was determined to be silent, growing more firm the more he tormentedme with questions, he made up his mind henceforward to disguise hiscuriosity and to make me think that he believed himself a love-childof my own. He began to call me 'father, ' although when we were aloneI often assured him that he was mistaken; but at length I gave upcombating this belief, which he perhaps only feigned to make me speak, and allowed him to think he was my son, contradicting him no more; butwhile he continued to dwell on this subject he was meantime makingevery effort to find out who he really was. Two years passed thus, when, through an unfortunate piece of forgetfulness on my part, for which Igreatly blame myself, he became acquainted with the truth. He knewthat the king had lately sent me several messengers, and once havingcarelessly forgotten to lock up a casket containing letters from thequeen and the cardinals, he read part and divined the rest through hisnatural intelligence; and later confessed to me that he had carried offthe letter which told most explicitly of his birth. 

"'I can recall that from this time on, his manner to me showed no longerthat respect for me in which I had brought him up, but became hectoringand rude, and that I could not imagine the reason of the change, for Inever found out that he had searched my papers, and he never revealed tome how he got at the casket, whether he was aided by some workmen whomhe did not wish to betray, or had employed other means. 

"'One day, however, he unguardedly asked me to show him the portraits ofthe late and the present king. I answered that those that existed wereso poor that I was waiting till better ones were taken before havingthem in my house. 

"'This answer, which did not satisfy him, called forth the request to beallowed to go to Dijon. I found out afterwards that he wanted to see aportrait of the king which was there, and to get to the court, which wasjust then at Saint-Jean-de-Luz, because of the approaching marriage withthe infanta; so that he might compare himself with his brother and seeif there were any resemblance between them. Having knowledge of hisplan, I never let him out of my sight. 

"'The young prince was at this time as beautiful as Cupid, and throughthe intervention of Cupid himself he succeeded in getting hold of aportrait of his brother. One of the upper servants of the house, a younggirl, had taken his fancy, and he lavished such caresses on her andinspired her with so much love, that although the whole household wasstrictly forbidden to give him anything without my permission, sheprocured him a portrait of the king. The unhappy prince saw the likenessat once, indeed no one could help seeing it, for the one portrait wouldserve equally well for either brother, and the sight produced such a fitof fury that he came to me crying out, "There is my brother, and thistells me who I am!" holding out a letter from Cardinal Mazarin which hehad stolen from me, and making a great commotion in my house. 

"'The dread lest the prince should escape and succeed in appearingat the marriage of his brother made me so uneasy, that I sent off amessenger to the king to tell him that my casket had been opened, andasking for instructions. The king sent back word through the cardinalthat we were both to be shut up till further orders, and that the princewas to be made to understand that the cause of our common misfortune washis absurd claim. I have since shared his prison, but I believe that adecree of release has arrived from my heavenly judge, and for my soul'shealth and for my ward's sake I make this declaration, that he may knowwhat measures to take in order to put an end to his ignominious estateshould the king die without children. Can any oath imposed under threatsoblige one to be silent about such incredible events, which it isnevertheless necessary that posterity should know?'"

Such were the contents of the historical document given by the regent tothe princess, and it suggests a crowd of questions. Who was the prince'sgovernor? Was he a Burgundian? Was he simply a landed proprietor, withsome property and a country house in Burgundy? How far was his estatefrom Dijon? He must have been a man of note, for he enjoyed the mostintimate confidence at the court of Louis XIII, either by virtue ofhis office or because he was a favourite of the king, the queen, andCardinal Richelieu. Can we learn from the list of the nobles of Burgundywhat member of their body disappeared from public life along witha young ward whom he had brought up in his own house just after themarriage of Louis XIV? Why did he not attach his signature to thedeclaration, which appears to be a hundred years old? Did he dictate itwhen so near death that he had not strength to sign it? How did it findits way out of prison? And so forth. 

There is no answer to all these questions, and I, for my part, cannotundertake to affirm that the document is genuine. Abbe Soulavie relatesthat he one day "pressed the marshal for an answer to some questions onthe matter, asking, amongst other things, if it were not true that theprisoner was an elder brother of Louis XIV born without the knowledge ofLouis XIII. The marshal appeared very much embarrassed, and althoughhe did not entirely refuse to answer, what he said was not veryexplanatory. He averred that this important personage was neither theillegitimate brother of Louis XIV, nor the Duke of Monmouth, nor theComte de Vermandois, nor the Duc de Beaufort, and so on, as so manywriters had asserted. " He called all their writings mere inventions, butadded that almost every one of them had got hold of some true incidents, as for instance the order to kill the prisoner should he make himselfknown. Finally he acknowledged that he knew the state secret, and usedthe following words: "All that I can tell you, abbe, is, that when theprisoner died at the beginning of the century, at a very advanced age, he had ceased to be of such importance as when, at the beginning of hisreign, Louis XIV shut him up for weighty reasons of state. "

The above was written down under the eyes of the marshal, and whenAbbe Soulavie entreated him to say something further which, whilenot actually revealing the secret, would yet satisfy his questioner'scuriosity, the marshal answered, "Read M. De Voltaire's latest writingson the subject, especially his concluding words, and reflect on them. "

With the exception of Dulaure, all the critics have treated Soulavie'snarrative with the most profound contempt, and we must confess that ifit was an invention it was a monstrous one, and that the concoction ofthe famous note in cipher was abominable. "Such was the great secret; inorder to find it out, I had to allow myself 5, 12, 17, 15, 14, 1, threetimes by 8, 3. " But unfortunately for those who would defend themorals of Mademoiselle de Valois, it would be difficult to traduce thecharacter of herself, her lover, and her father, for what one knows ofthe trio justifies one in believing that the more infamous the conductimputed to them, the more likely it is to be true. We cannot see theforce of the objection that Louvois would not have written in thefollowing terms to Saint-Mars in 1687 about a bastard son of Anne ofAustria: "I see no objection to your removing Chevalier de Thezut fromthe prison in which he is confined, and putting your prisoner theretill the one you are preparing for him is ready to receive him. " And wecannot understand those who ask if Saint-Mars, following the example ofthe minister, would have said of a prince "Until he is installed inthe prison which is being prepared for him here, which has a chapeladjoining"? Why should he have expressed himself otherwise? Does itevidence an abatement of consideration to call a prisoner a prisoner, and his prison a prison?

A certain M. De Saint-Mihiel published an 8vo volume in 1791, atStrasbourg and Paris, entitled 'Le veritable homme, dit au MASQUE DEFER, ouvrage dans lequel on fait connaitre, sur preuves incontestables, a qui le celebre infortune dut le jour, quand et ou il naquit'. Thewording of the title will give an idea of the bizarre and barbarousjargon in which the whole book is written. It would be difficult toimagine the vanity and self-satisfaction which inspire this new readerof riddles. If he had found the philosopher's stone, or made a discoverywhich would transform the world, he could not exhibit more pride andpleasure. All things considered, the "incontestable proofs" of histheory do not decide the question definitely, or place it above allattempts at refutation, any more than does the evidence on which theother theories which preceded and followed his rest. But what he lacksbefore all other things is the talent for arranging and using hismaterials. With the most ordinary skill he might have evolved a theorywhich would have defied criticism at least as successfully, asthe others, and he might have supported it by proofs, which if notincontestable (for no one has produced such), had at least moralpresumption in their favour, which has great weight in such a mysteriousand obscure affair, in trying to explain, which one can never leaveon one side, the respect shown by Louvois to the prisoner, to whom healways spoke standing and with uncovered head. 

According to M. De Saint-Mihiel, the 'Man in the Iron Mask was alegitimate son of Anne of Austria and Mazarin'. 

He avers that Mazarin was only a deacon, and not a priest, when hebecame cardinal, having never taken priest's orders, according to thetestimony of the Princess Palatine, consort of Philip I, Duc d'Orleans, and that it was therefore possible for him to marry, and that he didmarry, Anne of Austria in secret. 

"Old Madame Beauvais, principal woman of the bed-chamber to the queenmother, knew of this ridiculous marriage, and as the price of hersecrecy obliged the queen to comply with all her whims. To thiscircumstance the principal bed-chamber women owe the extensiveprivileges accorded them ever since in this country" (Letter of theDuchesse d'Orleans, 13th September 1713). 

"The queen mother, consort of Louis XIII, had done worse than simply tofall in love with Mazarin, she had married him, for he had never beenan ordained priest, he had only taken deacon's orders. If he had been apriest his marriage would have been impossible. He grew terribly tiredof the good queen mother, and did not live happily with her, whichwas only what he deserved for making such a marriage" (Letter of theDuchesse d'Orleans, 2nd November 1717). 

"She (the queen mother) was quite easy in her conscience about CardinalMazarin; he was not in priest's orders, and so could marry. The secretpassage by which he reached the queen's rooms every evening still existsin the Palais Royal" (Letter of the Duchesse d'Orleans, 2nd July 1719)

"The queen's, manner of conducting affairs is influenced by the passionwhich dominates her. When she and the cardinal converse together, theirardent love for each other is betrayed by their looks and gestures; itis plain to see that when obliged to part for a time they do it withgreat reluctance. If what people say is true, that they are properlymarried, and that their union has been blessed by Pere Vincent themissioner, there is no harm in all that goes on between them, either inpublic or in private" ('Requete civile contre la Conclusion de la Paix, 1649). 

The Man in the Iron Mask told the apothecary in the Bastille thathe thought he was about sixty years of age ('Questions surd'Encyclopedie'). Thus he must have been born in 1644, just at the timewhen Anne of Austria was invested with the royal power, though it wasreally exercised by Mazarin. 

Can we find any incident recorded in history which lends support tothe supposition that Anne of Austria had a son whose birth was kept assecret as her marriage to Mazarin?

"In 1644, Anne of Austria being dissatisfied with her apartments in theLouvre, moved to the Palais Royal, which had been left to the king byRichelieu. Shortly after taking up residence there she was very ill witha severe attack of jaundice, which was caused, in the opinion of thedoctors, by worry, anxiety, and overwork, and which pulled her downgreatly" ('Memoire de Madame de Motteville, 4 vols. 12mo, Vol i. P. 194). 

"This anxiety, caused by the pressure of public business, was mostprobably only dwelt on as a pretext for a pretended attack of illness. Anne of Austria had no cause for worry and anxiety till 1649. She didnot begin to complain of the despotism of Mazarin till towards the endof 1645" (Ibid. , viol. I. Pp. 272, 273). 

"She went frequently to the theatre during her first year of widowhood, but took care to hide herself from view in her box. " (Ibid. , vol. I. P. 342). 

Abbe Soulavie, in vol. Vi. Of the 'Memoires de Richelieu', publishedin 1793, controverted the opinions of M. De Saint-Mihiel, and againadvanced those which he had published some time before, supporting themby a new array of reasons. 

The fruitlessness of research in the archives of the Bastille, and theimportance of the political events which were happening, diverted theattention of the public for some years from this subject. In the year1800, however, the 'Magazin encyclopedique' published (vol. Vi. P. 472) an article entitled 'Memoires sur les Problemes historiques, et lamethode de les resoudre appliquee a celui qui concerne l'Homme auMasque de Fer', signed C. D. O. , in which the author maintained that theprisoner was the first minister of the Duke of Mantua, and says his namewas Girolamo Magni. 

In the same year an octavo volume of 142 pages was produced by M. Roux-Fazillac. It bore the title 'Recherches historiques et critiquessur l'Homme au Masque de Fer, d'ou resultent des Notions certainessur ce prisonnier'. These researches brought to light a secretcorrespondence relative to certain negotiations and intrigues, andto the abduction of a secretary of the Duke of Mantua whose name wasMatthioli, and not Girolamo Magni. 

In 1802 an octavo pamphlet containing 11 pages, of which the author wasperhaps Baron Lerviere, but which was signed Reth, was published. Ittook the form of a letter to General Jourdan, and was dated from Turin, and gave many details about Matthioli and his family. It was entitled'Veritable Clef de l'Histoire de l'Homme au Masque de Fer'. It provedthat the secretary of the Duke of Mantua was carried off, masked, andimprisoned, by order of Louis XIV in 1679, but it did not succeed inestablishing as an undoubted fact that the secretary and the Man in theIron Mask were one and the same person. 

It may be remembered that M. Crawfurd writing in 1798 had said in his'Histoire de la Bastille' (8vo, 474 pages), "I cannot doubt that the Manin the Iron Mask was the son of Anne of Austria, but am unable to decidewhether he was a twin-brother of Louis XIV or was born while the kingand queen lived apart, or during her widowhood. " M. Crawfurd, in his'Melanges d'Histoire et de Litterature tires dun Portefeuille' (quarto1809, octavo 1817), demolished the theory advanced by Roux-Fazillac. 

In 1825, M. Delort discovered in the archives several letters relatingto Matthioli, and published his Histoire de l'Homme au Masque de Fer(8vo). This work was translated into English by George Agar-Ellis, andretranslated into French in 1830, under the title 'Histoire authentiquedu Prisonnier d'Etat, connu sons le Nom de Masque de Fer'. It is in thiswork that the suggestion is made that the captive was the second son ofOliver Cromwell. 

In 1826, M. De Taules wrote that, in his opinion, the masked prisonerwas none other than the Armenian Patriarch. But six years later thegreat success of my drama at the Odeon converted nearly everyone to theversion of which Soulavie was the chief exponent. The bibliophile Jacobis mistaken in asserting that I followed a tradition preserved in thefamily of the Duc de Choiseul; M. Le Duc de Bassano sent me a copy madeunder his personal supervision of a document drawn up for Napoleon, containing the results of some researches made by his orders on thesubject of the Man in the Iron Mask. The original MS. , as well as thatof the Memoires du Duc de Richelieu, were, the duke told me, kept at theForeign Office. In 1834 the journal of the Institut historique publisheda letter from M. Auguste Billiard, who stated that he had also made acopy of this document for the late Comte de Montalivet, Home Secretaryunder the Empire. 

M. Dufey (de l'Yonne) gave his 'Histoire de la Bastille' to the world inthe same year, and was inclined to believe that the prisoner was a sonof Buckingham. 

Besides the many important personages on whom the famous mask had beenplaced, there was one whom everyone had forgotten, although his namehad been put forward by the minister Chamillart: this was the celebratedSuperintendent of Finance, Nicolas Fouquet. In 1837, Jacob, armed withdocuments and extracts, once more occupied himself with this Chinesepuzzle on which so much ingenuity had been lavished, but of which noone had as yet got all the pieces into their places. Let us see if hesucceeded better than his forerunners. 

The first feeling he awakes is one of surprise. It seems odd thathe should again bring up the case of Fouquet, who was condemned toimprisonment for life in 1664, confined in Pignerol under the care ofSaint-Mars, and whose death was announced (falsely according to Jacob)on March 23rd, 1680. The first thing to look for in trying to get at thetrue history of the Mask is a sufficient reason of state to account forthe persistent concealment of the prisoner's features till his death;and next, an explanation of the respect shown him by Louvois, whoseattitude towards him would have been extraordinary in any age, but wasdoubly so during the reign of Louis XIV, whose courtiers would have beenthe last persons in the world to render homage to the misfortunes ofa man in disgrace with their master. Whatever the real motive of theking's anger against Fouquet may have been, whether Louis thought hearrogated to himself too much power, or aspired to rival his master inthe hearts of some of the king's mistresses, or even presumed to raisehis eyes higher still, was not the utter ruin, the lifelong captivity, of his enemy enough to satiate the vengeance of the king? What could hedesire more? Why should his anger, which seemed slaked in 1664, burstforth into hotter flames seventeen years later, and lead him to inflicta new punishment? According to the bibliophile, the king beingwearied by the continual petitions for pardon addressed to him by thesuperintendent's family, ordered them to be told that he was dead, torid himself of their supplications. Colbert's hatred, says he, was theimmediate cause of Fouquet's fall; but even if this hatred hastened thecatastrophe, are we to suppose that it pursued the delinquent beyond thesentence, through the long years of captivity, and, renewing its energy, infected the minds of the king and his councillors? If that were so, howshall we explain the respect shown by Louvois? Colbert would not havestood uncovered before Fouquet in prison. Why should Colbert's colleaguehave done so?

It must, however, be confessed that of all existing theories, this one, thanks to the unlimited learning and research of the bibliophile, has the greatest number of documents with the various interpretationsthereof, the greatest profusion of dates, on its side. 

For it is certain--

1st, that the precautions taken when Fouquet was sent to Pignerolresembled in every respect those employed later by the custodians of theIron Mask, both at the Iles Sainte-Marguerite and at the Bastille;

2nd, that the majority of the traditions relative to the masked prisonermight apply to Fouquet;

3rd, that the Iron Mask was first heard of immediately after theannouncement of the death of Fouquet in 1680;

4th, that there exists no irrefragable proof that Fouquet's death reallyoccurred in the above year. 

The decree of the Court of justice, dated 20th December 1664, banishedFouquet from the kingdom for life. "But the king was of the opinionthat it would be dangerous to let the said Fouquet leave the country, inconsideration of his intimate knowledge of the most important mattersof state. Consequently the sentence of perpetual banishment was commutedinto that of perpetual imprisonment. " ('Receuil des defenses deM. Fouquet'). The instructions signed by the king and remitted toSaint-Mars forbid him to permit Fouquet to hold any spoken or writtencommunication with anyone whatsoever, or to leave his apartments forany cause, not even for exercise. The great mistrust felt by Louvoispervades all his letters to Saint-Mars. The precautions which he orderedto be kept up were quite as stringent as in the case of the Iron Mask. 

The report of the discovery of a shirt covered with writing, by afriar, which Abbe Papon mentions, may perhaps be traced to the followingextracts from two letters written by Louvois to Saint-Mars: "Your letterhas come to hand with the new handkerchief on which M. Fouquet haswritten" (18th Dec. 1665 ); "You can tell him that if he continues tooemploy his table-linen as note-paper he must not be surprised if yourefuse to supply him with any more" ( 21st Nov. 1667). 

Pere Papon asserts that a valet who served the masked prisoner died inhis master's room. Now the man who waited on Fouquet, and who likehim was sentenced to lifelong imprisonment, died in February 1680 (seeletter of Louvois to Saint-Mars, 12th March 1680). Echoes ofincidents which took place at Pignerol might have reached the IlesSainte-Marguerite when Saint-Mars transferred his "former prisoner" fromone fortress to the other. The fine clothes and linen, the books, allthose luxuries in fact that were lavished on the masked prisoner, werenot withheld from Fouquet. The furniture of a second room at Pignerolcost over 1200 livres (see letters of Louvois, 12th Dec. 1665, and 22ndFeb, 1666). 

It is also known that until the year 1680 Saint-Mars had only twoimportant prisoners at Pignerol, Fouquet and Lauzun. However, his"former prisoner of Pignerol, " according to Du Junca's diary, musthave reached the latter fortress before the end of August 1681, whenSaint-Mars went to Exilles as governor. So that it was in the intervalbetween the 23rd March 1680, the alleged date of Fouquet's death, andthe 1st September 1681, that the Iron Mask appeared at Pignerol, and yetSaint-Mars took only two prisoners to Exilles. One of these was probablythe Man in the Iron Mask; the other, who must have been Matthioli, diedbefore the year 1687, for when Saint-Mars took over the governorshipin the month of January of that year of the Iles Sainte-Marguerite hebrought only ONE prisoner thither with him. "I have taken such goodmeasures to guard my prisoner that I can answer to you for his safety"('Lettres de Saint-Mars a Louvois', 20th January 1687). 

In the correspondence of Louvois with Saint-Mars we find, it is true, mention of the death of Fouquet on March 23rd, 1680, but in his latercorrespondence Louvois never says "the late M. Fouquet, " but speaks ofhim, as usual, as "M. Fouquet" simply. Most historians have given as afact that Fouquet was interred in the same vault as his father in thechapel of Saint-Francois de Sales in the convent church belonging tothe Sisters of the Order of the Visitation-Sainte-Marie, founded in thebeginning of the seventeenth century by Madame de Chantal. But proofto the contrary exists; for the subterranean portion of St. Francis'schapel was closed in 1786, the last person interred there being AdelaideFelicite Brulard, with whom ended the house of Sillery. The convent wasshut up in 1790, and the church given over to the Protestants in 1802;who continued to respect the tombs. In 1836 the Cathedral chapter ofBourges claimed the remains of one of their archbishops buried therein the time of the Sisters of Sainte-Marie. On this occasion all thecoffins were examined and all the inscriptions carefully copied, but thename of Nicolas Fouquet is absent. 

Voltaire says in his 'Dictionnaire philosophique', article 'Ana, ' "Itis most remarkable that no one knows where the celebrated Fouquet wasburied. "

But in spite of all these coincidences, this carefully constructedtheory was wrecked on the same point on which the theory that theprisoner was either the Duke of Monmouth or the Comte de Vermandoiscame to grief, viz. A letter from Barbezieux, dated 13th August 1691, in which occur the words, "THE PRISONER WHOM YOU HAVE HAD IN CHARGE FORTWENTY YEARS. " According to this testimony, which Jacob had successfullyused against his predecessors, the prisoner referred to could not havebeen Fouquet, who completed his twenty-seventh year of captivity in1691, if still alive. 

We have now impartially set before our readers all the opinions whichhave been held in regard to the solution of this formidable enigma. Forourselves, we hold the belief that the Man in the Iron Mask stood onthe steps of the throne. Although the mystery cannot be said to bedefinitely cleared up, one thing stands out firmly established amongthe mass of conjecture we have collected together, and that is, thatwherever the prisoner appeared he was ordered to wear a mask on pain ofdeath. His features, therefore, might during half a century have broughtabout his recognition from one end of France to the other; consequently, during the same space of time there existed in France a face resemblingthe prisoner's known through all her provinces, even to her mostsecluded isle. 

Whose face could this be, if not that of Louis XVI, twin-brother of theMan in the Iron Mask?

To nullify this simple and natural conclusion strong evidence will berequired. 

Our task has been limited to that of an examining judge at a trial, andwe feel sure that our readers will not be sorry that we have leftthem to choose amid all the conflicting explanations of the puzzle. Noconsistent narrative that we might have concocted would, it seems tous, have been half as interesting to them as to allow them to follow thedevious paths opened up by those who entered on the search for the heartof the mystery. Everything connected with the masked prisoner arousesthe most vivid curiosity. And what end had we in view? Was it not todenounce a crime and to brand the perpetrator thereof? The facts as theystand are sufficient for our object, and speak more eloquently than ifused to adorn a tale or to prove an ingenious theory.