Man in the Iron Mask (essay) | Page 5

it was believed that he had at last turned over a new leaf."
He only remained four days at court, reached the camp before Courtrai
early in November 1683, was taken ill on the evening of the 12th, and
died on the 19th of the same month of a malignant fever. Mademoiselle
de Montpensier says that 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 the
dauphin, everyone would have heard of the monstrous crime, and yet it
is nowhere spoken of, except in the 'Memoires de Perse'. What renders
the story of the blow still more improbable is the difference in age
between the two princes. The dauphin, who already had a son, the Duc
de Bourgogne, more than a year old, was born the 1st November 1661,
and was therefore six years older than the Comte de Vermandois. But
the most complete answer to the tale is to be found in a letter written by
Barbezieux to Saint-Mars, dated the 13th August 1691:--
"When you have any information to send me relative to the prisoner
who has been in your charge for twenty years, I most earnestly enjoin
on you to take the same precautions as when you write to M. de
Louvois."
The Comte de Vermandois, the official registration of whose death
bears the date 1685, cannot have been twenty years a prisoner in 1691.
Six years after the Man in the Mask had been thus delivered over to the
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 long
expected, for details relating to the mysterious prisoner about whom
everyone was talking.
Voltaire ventured at length to speak more openly of the prisoner than
anyone had hitherto done, and to treat as a matter of history "an event
long ignored by all historians." (vol. ii. p. 11, 1st edition, chap. xxv.).
He assigned an approximate date to the beginning of this captivity,
"some months after the death of Cardinal Mazarin" (1661); he gave a
description of the prisoner, who according to him was "young and
dark-complexioned; his figure was above the middle height and well
proportioned; his features were exceedingly handsome, and his bearing
was noble. When he spoke his voice inspired interest; he never
complained of his lot, and gave no hint as to his rank." Nor was the
mask forgotten: "The part which covered the chin was furnished with
steel springs, which allowed the prisoner to eat without uncovering his
face." And, lastly, he fixed the date of the death of the nameless captive;
who "was buried," he says, "in 1704., by night, in the parish church of
Saint-Paul."
Voltaire's narrative coincided with the account given in the 'Memoires
de Peyse', save for the omission of the incident which, according to the
'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 wore his
mask on the journey, and his escort had orders to shoot him if he took it
off. The Marquis de Louvois visited him while he was on the islands,
and when speaking to him stood all the time in a respectful attitude.
The prisoner was removed to the Bastille in 1690, where he was lodged
as comfortably as could be managed in that building; he was supplied
with everything he asked for, especially with the finest linen and the
costliest lace, in both of which his taste was perfect; he had a guitar to
play on, his table was excellent, and the governor rarely sat in his
presence."
Voltaire added a few further details which had been given him by M.
de Bernaville, the successor of M. de Saint-Mars, and by an old
physician of the Bastille who had attended the prisoner whenever his
health required a doctor, but who had never seen his face, although he

had "often seen his tongue and his body." He also asserted that M. de
Chamillart was the last minister who was in the secret, and that when
his son-in-law, Marshal de la Feuillade, besought him on his knees, de
Chamillart being on his deathbed, to tell him the name of the Man in
the Iron Mask, the minister replied that he was under a solemn oath
never to reveal the secret, it being an affair of state. To all these details,
which the marshal acknowledges to be correct, Voltaire adds a
remarkable note: "What increases our wonder is, that when the
unknown captive was