picture of the 
position of the "roi des halles," the "king of the markets," in regard to
Colbert and Louis XIV. Colbert wished to direct all the manoeuvres of 
the fleet from his study, while it was commanded by the naval 
grandmaster in the capricious manner which might be expected from 
his factious character and love of bluster (Eugene Sue, vol. i., 'Pieces 
Justificatives'). In 1699 Louis XIV sent the Duc de Beaufort to the 
relief of Candia, which the Turks were besieging. Seven hours after his 
arrival Beaufort was killed in a sortie. The Duc de Navailles, who 
shared with him the command of the French squadron, simply reported 
his death as follows: "He met a body of Turks who were pressing our 
troops hard: placing himself at the head of the latter, he fought valiantly, 
but at length his soldiers abandoned him, and we have not been able to 
learn his fate" ('Memoires du Duc de Navailles', 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, and 
funeral orations delivered. Nevertheless, many believed that he would 
one day reappear, as his body had never been recovered. 
Guy Patin mentions this belief, which he did not share, in two of his 
letters:-- 
"Several wagers have been laid that M. de Beaufort is not dead! 'O 
utinam'!" (Guy Patin, September 26, 1669). 
"It is said that M. de Vivonne has been granted by commission the post 
of vice-admiral of France for twenty years; but there are many who 
believe that the Duc de Beaufort is not dead, but imprisoned in some 
Turkish island. Believe this who may, I don't; he is really dead, and the 
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 on the 
field of battle, and that the latter was afterwards exhibited at 
Constantinople; and this may account for some of the details given by 
Sandras 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 
'Histoire de la Marine' (vol. ii, chap. 6), had adopted this view, which 
coincides with the accounts left by Philibert de Jarry and the Marquis
de Ville, the MSS. of whose letters and 'Memoires' are to be found in 
the Bibliotheque du Roi. 
"In the first volume of the 'Histoire de la Detention des Philosophes et 
des Gens de Lettres a la Bastille, etc.', we find the following passage:-- 
"Without dwelling on the difficulty and danger of an abduction, which 
an Ottoman scimitar might any day during this memorable siege render 
unnecessary, we shall restrict ourselves to declaring positively that the 
correspondence of Saint-Mars from 1669 to 1680 gives us no ground 
for supposing that the governor of Pignerol had any great prisoner of 
state in his charge during that period of time, except Fouquet and 
Lauzun." 
While we profess no blind faith in the conclusions arrived at by the 
learned critic, we would yet add to the considerations on which he 
relies another, viz. that it is most improbable that Louis XIV should 
ever have considered it necessary to take such rigorous measures 
against the Duc de Beaufort. Truculent and self-confident as he was, he 
never acted against the royal authority in such a manner as to oblige the 
king to strike him down in secret; and it is difficult to believe that Louis 
XIV, peaceably seated on his throne, with all the enemies of his 
minority under his feet, should have revenged himself on the duke as 
an old Frondeur. 
The critic calls our attention to another fact also adverse to the theory 
under consideration. The Man in the Iron Mask loved fine linen and 
rich lace, he was reserved in character and possessed of extreme 
refinement, 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 
the death of the prisoner was registered), 'hic amiral', as a proof, we 
cannot think that the gaolers of Pignerol amused themselves in 
propounding conundrums to exercise the keen intellect of their 
contemporaries; and moreover the same anagram would apply equally 
well to the Count of Vermandois, who was made admiral when only 
twenty-two months old. Abbe Papon, in his roamings through Provence, 
paid a visit to the prison in which the Iron Mask was confined, and    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.