The Valets Tragedy | Page 9

have been built on these words, deux merles,
'two gaol-birds.' One of the two, we shall see, became the source of the
legend of the Man in the Iron Mask. 'How can a wretched gaol-bird
(merle) have been the Mask?' asks M. Topin. 'The rogue's whole
furniture and table-linen were sold for 1 pound 19 shillings. He only
got a new suit of clothes every three years.' All very true; but this
gaol-bird and his mate, by the direct statement of Louvois, are 'the
prisoners too important to be entrusted to other hands than yours'--the
hands of Saint-Mars--while Mattioli is so unimportant that he may be
left at Pignerol under Villebois.
The truth is, that the offence and the punishment of Mattioli were well
known to European diplomatists and readers of books. Casal, moreover,
at this time was openly ceded to Louis XIV., and Mattioli could not
have told the world more than it already knew. But, for some
inscrutable reason, the secret which Dauger knew, or was suspected of

knowing, became more and more a source of anxiety to Louvois and
Louis. What can he have known? The charges against his master, Roux
de Marsilly, had been publicly proclaimed. Twelve years had passed
since the dealings of Arlington with Marsilly. Yet, Louvois became
more and more nervous.
In accordance with commands of his, on March 2, 1682, the two valets,
who had hitherto occupied one chamber at Exiles as at Pignerol, were
cut off from all communication with each other. Says Saint-Mars,
'Since receiving your letter I have warded the pair as strictly and
exactly as I did M. Fouquet and M. Lauzun, who cannot brag that he
sent out or received any intelligence. Night and day two sentinels watch
their tower; and my own windows command a view of the sentinels.
Nobody speaks to my captives but myself, my lieutenant, their
confessor, and the doctor, who lives eighteen miles away, and only sees
them when I am present.' Years went by; on January 1687 one of the
two captives died; we really do not know which with absolute certainty.
However, the intensified secrecy with which the survivor was now
guarded seems more appropriate to Dauger; and M. Funck-Brentano
and M. Lair have no doubt that it was La Riviere who expired. He was
dropsical, that appears in the official correspondence, and the dead
prisoner died of dropsy.
As for the strange secrecy about Dauger, here is an example. Saint-
Mars, in January 1687, was appointed to the fortress of the Isles
Sainte-Marguerite, that sun themselves in the bay of Cannes. On
January 20 he asks leave to go to see his little kingdom. He must leave
Dauger, but HAS FORBIDDEN EVEN HIS LIEUTENANT TO
SPEAK TO THAT PRISONER. This was an increase of precaution
since 1682. He wishes to take the captive to the Isles, but how? A sedan
chair covered over with oilcloth seems best. A litter might break down,
litters often did, and some one might then see the passenger.
Now M. Funck-Brentano says, to minimise the importance of Dauger,
'he was shut up like so much luggage in a chair hermetically closed
with oilcloth, carried by eight Piedmontese in relays of four.'
Luggage is not usually carried in hermetically sealed sedan chairs, but

Saint-Mars has explained why, by surplus of precaution, he did not use
a litter. The litter might break down and Dauger might be seen. A new
prison was built specially, at the cost of 5,000 livres, for Dauger at
Sainte-Marguerite, with large sunny rooms. On May 3, 1687,
Saint-Mars had entered on his island realm, Dauger being nearly killed
by twelve days' journey in a closed chair. He again excited the utmost
curiosity. On January 8, 1688, Saint-Mars writes that his prisoner is
believed by the world to be either a son of Oliver Cromwell, or the Duc
de Beaufort,* who was never seen again, dead or alive, after a night
battle in Crete, on June 25, 1669, just before Dauger was arrested.
Saint-Mars sent in a note of the TOTAL of Dauger's expenses for the
year 1687. He actually did not dare to send the ITEMS, he says, lest
they, if the bill fell into the wrong hands, might reveal too much!
*The Duc de Beaufort whom Athos releases from prison in Dumas's
Vingt Ans Apres.
Meanwhile, an Italian news-letter, copied into a Leyden paper, of
August 1687, declared that Mattioli had just been brought from
Pignerol to Sainte-Marguerite. There was no mystery about Mattioli,
the story of his capture was published in 1682, but the press, on one
point, was in error: Mattioli was still at Pignerol. The known advent of
the late Commandant of Pignerol, Saint-Mars, with a single concealed
prisoner, at the island, naturally suggested the erroneous idea that the