| Iron Mask | |
|---|---|
| Date of Birth | 1640s |
| Date of death | November 19(1703-11-19 ) |
| A place of death |
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| A country | |
| Occupation | a prisoner |
| Media files on Wikimedia Commons | |
The famous writer and philosopher Voltaire, in his second edition of “Questions to the Encyclopedia” (1771), put forward the version that the prisoner wore not a velvet, but an iron mask, and that under this mask was hiding the illegitimate elder brother of Louis XIV. The only historical information about the man in the iron mask can be gleaned from the correspondence of Saint-Mars with his leadership in Paris. According to other versions, the prisoner was a certain Eustache Dauger (French: Eustache Dauger), a participant in several political scandals at the end of the 17th century, but this theory is not convincing.
The Man in the Iron Mask has had a huge influence on literature. He is mentioned in the novel The Vicomte de Bragelonne, or Ten Years After by Alexandre Dumas: the prisoner is the twin brother of Louis XIV. Dumas also presented in the sixth volume of Famous Crimes, in the chapter "The Man in the Iron Mask", a list of all possible theories about who the mysterious prisoner was.
Prisoner's biography
Arrest and imprisonment
In July 1669, Louis XIV's minister of war, the Marquis de Louvois, sent a letter to Benin Dauvern de Saint-Mars, the warden of the Pignerol prison (at that time the city of Pinerolo belonged to France) about the arrival of a prisoner under the name "Eustache Doger" within the next month. This is considered to be the first written reference to the Man in the Iron Mask. Louvois ordered Saint-Mars to prepare a cell with many doors that would close one after another so that no one could hear what was happening in the cell. Saint-Mars could see the prisoner only once a day in order to provide him with everything he needed, but no more than a valet. Some historians believed that the prisoner was supposed to be killed if he spoke about anything else.
The prisoner's name in the letter was written in a different handwriting, which suggested that one of Louvois' servants could have done this. "Doger" was arrested by Captain Alexandre de Vauroy, commandant of Dunkirk, and exiled to Pignerol, where he arrived at the end of August. According to other sources, the arrest took place in Calais, which even the local governor did not know about, suggesting that Captain de Vaurois was being hunted by Spanish soldiers who had entered French territory from Spanish possessions in the Netherlands. Then disputes began about who this prisoner was. According to most interpretations of the legend, the prisoner never took off his mask.
Masked man as a servant
State criminals were sent to the Pinerol prison, so there were usually several people there. Among the prisoners of this prison were Count Ercole Antonio Mattioli, who was convicted of crossing the French border twice and for violating the deal to annex the castle of Casale; superintendent of finance Nicolas Fouquet, caught embezzling money; Antoine Nompart Caumont de La Force, Marquis de Lauzun, who wooed the king's cousin Anne de Montpensier without the approval of the king himself. Fouquet's cell was one floor above de Lauzun's cell.
In letters to Louvois, Saint-Mars wrote that "Doge" was a quiet and modest man, posing no danger and devoted to the will of God and the King, while other prisoners tried to escape, complained, became hysterical or went crazy. There was no complete isolation; the prisoners had servants. Thus, Fouquet had a servant named La Riviere, but such servants themselves did not differ in status from prisoners. When La Rivière was ill, Saint-Mars petitioned to allow Dauger to temporarily take up the post of servant. Louvois allowed this to be done in 1675 only in cases where La Riviera could not be asked and if Fouquet did not want to see anyone. If Fouquet and de Lauzun met, then “Dauger” should not have been present.
Although Fouquet was doomed to spend the rest of his days in captivity and meeting the masked prisoner did not change anything, de Lauzen expected a speedy release, but was expected not to even reveal the prisoner's identity. Experts on the 17th century believe that although protocol did not require a representative of the royal family to be a servant, the first rumors appeared that the masked prisoner was of royal origin. In 1680, after Fouquet's death, Saint-Mars discovered a secret loophole between Fouquet's and de Lauzun's cells, suggesting that they might have communicated and that de Lauzun had learned of the existence of the Doge. Louvois, in response to this message, ordered Saint-Mars to transfer de Lauzun to Fouquet's cell and convince him that "Dauger" and La Rivière had been released, although in fact they had been taken to another part of the prison.
In other prisons
In 1681, de Lauzun was released, and Saint-Mars was appointed governor of Fort Exilles (now the city of Exilles), where the masked man and La Rivière were exiled. In January 1687, La Rivière died, and Saint-Mars and "Dauger" went to the island of Saint-Marguerite (a mile from Cannes). Then rumors spread that the prisoner was wearing an iron mask, and again he was sent to a cell with many doors. On September 18, 1698, Saint-Mars became the commander of the Bastille, where the famous prisoner was sent, placing him in the third cell of the Bertodiere Tower with a large amount of furniture. The deputy head of the prison, de Rosarge, undertook to feed the prisoner. Lieutenant du Jonca, a prison officer, noted that the prisoner was wearing a black velvet mask.
On November 19, 1703, the masked prisoner died and was buried under the name "Marchioly". All furniture and clothing were destroyed, the walls were painted over and all metal objects were melted. In 1711, Elizabeth Charlotte of the Palatinate sent a letter to her aunt Sophia of Hanover, in which she stated that the prisoner was treated well and given everything he needed, but two musketeers were ready to kill him if he took off his mask. This information also gave rise to many rumors.
Interest in personality
The fate of the mysterious prisoner and the disappearance of all traces of his presence became the reason for the interest of historians and the birth of many legends. Many theories and several books were compiled, and discussions intensified after the letters were discovered. The most popular versions at that time were that under the mask there was a certain Marshal of France, either Henry Cromwell (son of Oliver Cromwell), or Duke Francois de Beaufort. Writers such as Voltaire or Alexandre Dumas have expressed and analyzed many theories about the masked man.
Versions
The first open information about the mysterious prisoner appeared in the book “ Mémoires secrets pour servir à l’histoire de Perse"(Secret Notes on the History of the Persian Court, Amsterdam, 1745-1746), from which it followed that the "Iron Mask" is the Duke of Vermandois, the illegitimate son of Louis XIV and Louise de La Vallière, who allegedly slapped his half-brother, the Grand Dauphin, and atoned for this guilt with eternal imprisonment. This version is implausible, since the real Louis of Bourbon died back in 1683, at the age of 16. Now there are dozens of different hypotheses about this prisoner and the reasons for his imprisonment.
Some Dutch writers have suggested that the "Iron Mask" is a foreigner, a young nobleman, chamberlain to Queen Anne of Austria and the real father of Louis XIV. Lagrange-Chancel tried to prove, in "L'année littéraire" (), that the Iron Mask was none other than Duke François de Beaufort, which was completely refuted by N. Aulaire in his "Histoire de la fronde". Reliable information about the “iron mask” was first given by the Jesuit Griffe, who was a confessor in the Bastille for 9 years, in his “ Traité des différentes sortes de preuves qui servent à établir la verité dans l’Histoire" (), where he gives the diary of du Jonc, the royal lieutenant in the Bastille, and the list of the dead of the Church of St. Paul. According to this diary, on September 19, 1698, a prisoner was brought from the island of St. Margaret in a sedan chair, whose name was unknown and whose face was constantly covered with a black velvet (not iron) mask. In general, Griffe was inclined to the opinion expressed in “Mémoires secrets” about the identity of the “iron mask”.
Representatives of the royal family
General Vivien de Bulonde
In 1890, military historian Louis Gendron discovered a series of encrypted letters from Louis XIV and passed them on to cryptanalyst Etienne Bazerie of the French Army's cryptography department. After working for three years, Baseri was able to decipher the archives of Louis XIV, encrypted with the Great Cipher according to the Rossignol system. Rossignols). In particular, one of the letters contained a message about a prisoner whose name was Vivien de Bulonde (French. Vivien l "Abbé de Bulonde), general of the French army. One of the letters, written by Louvois, indicated what de Bulonde was imprisoned for.
As historians have established, de Bulonde covered himself and the French army with shame during the Nine Years' War. In 1691, during the siege of Cuneo, he learned of the approach of Austrian troops and in panic ordered a retreat, abandoning equipment and wounded. Angered by the act, Louis XIV wrote a letter that included the following:
It is not necessary that I explain to you with what displeasure His Majesty learned of the disorder with which, contrary to your orders and without necessity, M. de Boulonde decided to end the siege of Cogne, since His Majesty knows better than anyone the consequences and how great the prejudice will be which will befall him due to the fact that he did not take this place, which will need to be taken in the winter. They want you to arrest M. de Bulonde and send him to the fortress of Pignerol, where His Majesty wants you to keep him in a cell at night, and during the day allow him to walk freely along the ramparts with 330 309.
Original text (French)
Il n"est pas nécessaire que je vous explique avec quel déplaisir Sa Majesté a appris le désordre avec lequel contre votre ordre et sans nécessité Monsieur de Bulonde a pris le parti de lever le siège de Coni puisque Sa Majesté en connaissant mieux que personne les conséquences connait aussi combien est grand le préjudice que l"on recevra de n"avoir pas pris cette place dont il faudra tâcher de se rendre maître pendant l"hiver. Elle désire que vous fassiez arrêter Monsieur de Bulonde et le fassiez conduire à la citadelle de Pignerol où Sa Majesté veut qu"il soit gardé enfermé pendant la nuit dans une chambre de ladite citadelle et le jour ayant la liberté de se promener sur les remparts avec un 330 309.
Code groups 330 and 309 could not be deciphered: supporters of the version of the arrest of de Bulonde and his imprisonment in a mask assume that the word 330 means “masque” (with fr.- “mask”), and 309 means a dot. However, others claim that everyone knew about Bulonde’s arrest, that his act was condemned in the newspapers and that he himself was released a few months later. His death was recorded in 1709, six years after the death of the masked prisoner.
Servant
According to the legislator of the times of the French Revolution, Pierre Roux-Fazillac, the story of the prisoner in the iron mask could have been created by mixing facts from the life of Eustache Dauger's servant and Count Ercole Antonio Mattioli. According to Andrew Lang, author of The Valet's Tragedy and Other Stories. The Valet's Tragedy and Other Stories, 1903), under the name Dauger was hiding a certain Martin, who served Roux de Marsiglia. After the execution of his master, Martin was sent to prison because he knew too much about de Marsiglia's affairs.
Son of Charles II
Arthur Barnes, in his book The Man of the Mask, 1908, suggested that the prisoner in the iron mask, James de la Cloche, was the illegitimate son of King Charles II of England, a Protestant by religion and the king’s secret representative at court. Louis XIV could have thrown James into prison because he knew too many secrets about the relationship between England and France.
Another illegitimate son of Charles, James Scott, 1st Duke of Monmouth, of the Protestant faith, is also considered a contender for the place of the prisoner in the iron mask. A Protestant, James rebelled against his Catholic uncle, King James II of England. The rebellion failed and Monmouth was executed in 1685. However, the writer Saint-Foy reported in 1768 that another person was then executed, and the Duke of Monmouth became a prisoner in an iron mask. It was in the interests of Louis XIV to help the Catholic king, who did not necessarily have to kill his own nephew. All of Saint-Foy's claims are based primarily on speculation and conspiracy theories that Monmouth's execution was a hoax.
Italian diplomat and adventurer Mattioli
In the 19th century, the prevailing version became that the prisoner in the black velvet mask was Count Ercole Antonio Mattioli, whose surname may have been mistakenly written as “Marchioly”. Mattioli was an Italian diplomat who allegedly intended to sell the fortress of Casale, which was owned by the heavily indebted Duke of Mantua, to Louis XIV in 1678. The fortress was located on the border with France and played a strategic role in protecting the borders of Mantua, and the French presence there was undesirable. Mattioli, who received the sum of 10 thousand crowns and expensive gifts, revealed the secret to Savoy, Spain (France's opponents in the political arena) and Austria and concluded his own deal with the authorities even before the entry of French troops into the territory of the fortress.
Louis XIV, who learned of the deception, ordered Mattioli to be kidnapped and imprisoned in Pignerol prison in April 1679. Two years later the French occupied Casale. Subsequently, Mattioli was kept on the island of Sainte-Marguerite, and then in the Bastille. Supporters of the version believe that in 1703 he was buried in St. Paul's Church, changing the name on the grave from “Mattioli” to “Marchioly”, and the similarity of these surnames is proof that it was Mattioli who was wearing the mask. The Honorable George Agar-Ellis, 1st Baron Dover (English) Russian was the first to suggest that Mattioli was the masked prisoner, based on documents from French archives in the 1820s, and published his book in 1826. 70 years later, the German historian Wilhelm Bröcking, independently of Agar-Ellis, came to the same conclusions, and soon Robert Chambers expressed exactly the same idea in The Book of Days.
The weak point of this version is that Mattioli was never transferred to Exilles or Bastille, according to the early letters of Saint-Mars.
Other versions
During the period of the First Empire, a legend appeared according to which the Iron Mask was a distant ancestor of Napoleon Bonaparte: according to legend, this man on the island of St. Margaret met the daughter of a jailer, who bore him a son. The child was soon sent to Corsica, giving him the surname Buonaparte, which means “of good birth.”
Jung () together with Riese (“Die eiserne Maske”,
On November 19, one of the most mysterious prisoners in history died in the Bastille. Whatever passport data was attributed to him! We've selected nine of the strangest ones.
Maria Mikulina
The date of birth of the mysterious character in the iron mask is unknown. But the date of death is recorded accurately: he died on November 19, 1703. In general, the story of the Iron Mask begins in July 1669, when the minister of Louis XIV sends a letter to the head of the prison in the city of Pinerolo with a request to receive and provide special attention to a mysterious prisoner in a mask.
Since then, evidence of the Man in the Iron Mask has surfaced either in personal letters or in philosophical treatises. Even Voltaire did not ignore the existence of the Iron Mask and hinted that he knew much more about it than many, but, like a true Frenchman, he would remain silent. From these words of the philosopher it somehow naturally followed that the imprisonment of the enigmatic prisoner was connected with state secrets.
And really, why bother with an ordinary person like that? It’s easier to kill, especially since it’s the 17th century. But the prisoner was not only not killed: in all the places where he stayed, including the Bastille, he was given the most comfortable living conditions. The main inconvenience of his life was (besides, of course, the fact of confinement) wearing a mask around the clock. Although here the story has slightly thickened the colors: the mask was not iron, but made of black velvet. Agree, the material is qualitatively different.
The legend of the Man in the Iron Velvet Mask has not subsided over the centuries, but has acquired new details. The main question - who the prisoner was - is still relevant today. There are at least 52 versions in total. But we won’t torment you with everyone; we’ll introduce you only to the most interesting ones, in our opinion.
01 Armenian Patriarch Evdokatsi Avetik
This martyr for the Orthodox faith was thrown into prison so often that it is extremely difficult to trace the history of his imprisonment. Perhaps at some point in his wanderings through prisons he actually tried on the mask.
02 Mysterious lady
It is not for nothing that the expression “Cherche la femme” was invented by the French. They always imagine a woman behind any secret. The version arose after the prisoner (prisoner) visited the prison on the island of Sainte-Marguerite and probably made a romantic impression on the prison governor.
03 Moliere
A theory that appeared at the end of the 19th century. They say that Moliere (pardon the pun) was so tired of the authorities with his accusatory plays that it was most convenient to put his talent into a mask. Although the writer and the king had, strictly speaking, cultural relations: Moliere even held the honorable position of the king’s bed-guard.
04 Skin cancer patient
1933 version. A terrible illness struck the skin of a certain high-ranking official, and therefore this face had to be covered with a mask.
05 Twin brother of Louis XIV
Until the death of the de facto regent Mazarin, the young Sun King was completely uninterested in politics. He just danced, changed outfits and, so to speak, flirted with the ladies. But the day after the death of the cardinal, the king’s behavior changed dramatically (and again, sorry for the pun): he became serious and became concerned about governing the state. Just a different person! What if this is our king’s twin brother, hidden immediately after birth? Well, exactly. This is true. And the king, apparently, is now sitting in captivity and wearing a mask. The version gained popularity thanks to Dumas and the 1998 film “The Man in the Iron Mask” with Leonardo DiCaprio (yes, he was not given an Oscar for this film either).
06 Black son of Maria Theresa
A child born from an inappropriate relationship between the queen and her black page. The excuse “it doesn’t happen to anyone” did not work in the royal families, and the criminal fruit of love had to be imprisoned forever.
07 Negro page of Maria Theresa
The father of the illegitimate black child (in this theory, a daughter), of course, also got it. The child died, and the father was imprisoned in an exotic manner, with a mask.
08 The real father of Louis XIV
The difficulties that accompanied the birth of the Sun King (after all, his parents could not conceive for 23 years!) gave rise to numerous rumors. For example, that the father is not real! And the real one is imprisoned in the castle. The Nature of the Rumor - An anonymous Dutch pamphlet which mentions "Anne of Austria's Love Affair with... Monsieur C.D.R."
09 Troubled teenager
In 1698, a prisoner was brought to the Bastille, whose face was hidden by a terrible iron mask. His name was unknown, and in prison he was numbered 64489001. The aura of mystery created gave rise to many versions of who this masked man could be.
The authorities knew absolutely nothing about the prisoner transferred from another prison. They were ordered to place the masked man in the most remote cell and not talk to him. After 5 years the prisoner died. He was buried under the name Marcialli. All the deceased’s belongings were burned, and the walls were torn apart so that no notes remained.
When the Bastille fell at the end of the 18th century under the onslaught of the French Revolution, the new government published documents that shed light on the fate of the prisoners. But there was not a single word about the man in the mask.
The Jesuit Griffe, who was a confessor in the Bastille at the end of the 17th century, wrote that a prisoner was brought to prison wearing a velvet (not iron) mask. In addition, the prisoner only put it on when someone appeared in the cell. From a medical point of view, if the prisoner actually wore a mask made of metal, it would invariably disfigure his face. The iron mask was “made” by writers who shared their assumptions about who this mysterious prisoner really could be.
The masked prisoner was first mentioned in the Secret Notes of the Persian Court, published in 1745 in Amsterdam. According to the Notes, prisoner No. 64489001 was none other than the illegitimate son of Louis XIV and his mistress Louise Françoise de La Vallière. He bore the title of Duke of Vermandois, allegedly slapped his brother the Grand Dauphin, for which he ended up in jail. In fact, this version is implausible, because the illegitimate son of the French king died at the age of 16 in 1683. And according to the records of the confessor of the Bastille, Jesuit Griffe, the unknown was imprisoned in 1698, and he died in 1703.
Francois Voltaire, in his work "The Age of Louis XIV", written in 1751, first indicated that the Iron Mask could well be the twin brother of the Sun King. To avoid problems with the succession to the throne, one of the boys was raised secretly. When Louis XIV learned of his brother’s existence, he doomed him to eternal imprisonment. This hypothesis explained the presence of the prisoner’s mask so logically that it became the most popular among other versions and was subsequently filmed more than once by directors.
There is an opinion that the famous Italian adventurer Ercole Antonio Mattioli was forced to wear the mask. The Italian in 1678 entered into an agreement with Louis XIV, according to which he undertook to force his duke to surrender the fortress of Casale to the king in exchange for a reward of 10,000 crowns. The adventurer took the money, but did not fulfill the contract. Moreover, Mattioli gave out this state secret to several other countries for a separate reward. For this treason, the French government sent him to the Bastille, forcing him to wear a mask.
Some researchers have put forward completely implausible versions about the man in the iron mask. According to one of them, this prisoner could be the Russian Emperor Peter I. It was during that period that Peter I was in Europe with his diplomatic mission (“Grand Embassy”). The autocrat was allegedly imprisoned in the Bastille, and a figurehead was sent home instead. Like, how else can we explain the fact that the tsar left Russia as a Christian who revered traditions, and returned back as a typical European who wanted to break the patriarchal foundations of Rus'.
In past centuries, masks were used not only to hide people’s faces, but also to turn them into real instruments of torture. One of these was
S. TSVETKOV.
Science and life // Illustrations
A color etching by Paul Jacob Lamini (19th century) depicts the storming of the Bastille, where a prisoner under the name “Iron Mask” once languished.
Louis XIV. Many associated the fate of the unfortunate secret prisoner of the Bastille with his name.
The Palace of Versailles, built at the behest of the “Sun King,” became the residence of Louis XIV, displacing the Louvre.
Madame de Montespan, favorite of Louis XIV.
François Marie Arouet Voltaire (1736 lithograph from a portrait of Latour) was the “father” of the hypothesis according to which the Iron Mask was considered the brother of Louis XIV.
English King Charles II. Miniature from 1665.
King Louis XIV opens the French Academy in Paris.
The mystery of the prisoner who went down in history under the name “Iron Mask” has worried people for centuries. Very little reliable information has been preserved about the most unusual prisoner of the Bastille. It is known, for example, that at the beginning of 1679 in the Pignerol prison there was a prisoner from whom a black velvet mask of the Venetian type with iron clasps (then turned by legend into an iron one) was never removed. The respectful treatment of him makes one think about the noble origin of the prisoner. In prison, he maintained the habits of an aristocrat, wore fine linen, loved an elegant table, and played music, playing the guitar quite well.
A few years later, the commandant of the Pignerol Saint-Mars fortress, having received an appointment to the islands of Saint Margaret, brought with him a secret prisoner. And on September 18, 1698, again together with Saint-Mars, who became the commandant of the Bastille, the unknown person found himself within its walls, which he did not leave until his death in 1703. In the Bastille, he was first given a separate room, but on March 6, 1701, he found himself in the same room with Domenic François Tirmont, accused of witchcraft and molestation of young girls; On April 30 of the same year, Jean Alexandre de Rocorville, guilty of “pronouncing anti-government speeches,” was moved in with them, all on the orders of the king. Apparently, from the words of these people, the legend of the Iron Mask then spread. It is noteworthy that the mysterious prisoner himself did not say a word to his cellmates about who he was and for what crime he was doomed to eternal incognito.
After the death of the Iron Mask, the room in which he lived was thoroughly searched, the walls were scraped and re-whitened, the furniture was burned, and the gold and silver dishes were melted down. Obviously, the authorities were afraid that the prisoner might have hidden some piece of paper somewhere or scrawled a few words in a secluded place about the secret of his imprisonment.
The famous prisoner was seen as a variety of people. In fact, any noble person who lived in the 17th century and about whose death there was no reliable information was immediately nominated by some historian as a candidate for the role of the Iron Mask. Let us briefly consider the most popular versions, which at different times seemed to be the final solution to this historical riddle.
The first place, of course, belongs to the hypothesis that tries to prove (or, rather, believes) in the existence of a brother of Louis XIV, hidden under a mask for reasons of state. Its father can be considered Voltaire, who in his work “The Age of Louis XIV” (1751) wrote: “The Iron Mask was the brother and, without a doubt, the elder brother of Louis XIV...” The hypothesis owes its popularity to the brilliant pen of Dumas the Father - that’s it “ hanging on the nail” is the plot of “The Vicomte de Bragelonne”. Among professional historians, this legend has long lost all credibility - in the 19th century it was shared only by Jules Michelet, a French historian, and after him - no one else. Its disadvantages include, first of all, the lack of reliable written evidence: all existing ones, as it turned out, are apocryphal. (For example, the once famous story of the “Governor of the Iron Mask”: “The unfortunate prince, whom I raised and cherished until the end of my days, was born on September 5, 1638 at eight and a half o’clock in the evening, during the king’s dinner. His brother, now reigning (Louis XIV. - Note ed.), was born in the morning at noon, during his father’s lunch”, etc.). This story is contained in the so-called notes of Marshal Richelieu, published by a certain Sulavi, but to which, however, the marshal himself had nothing to do.
The system of evidence given in favor of this version is flawed, since it violates the principle of the English philosopher William of Ockham: “Entities should not be multiplied beyond what is necessary.” In other words, no one will ever explain the mystery of the Iron Mask by the existence of the brother of Louis XIV until it is proven that the latter actually had a brother. In general, the words of Montesquieu apply to this version: “There are things that everyone talks about because they were once said.”
During the period of the First Empire, a variation of this version arose, according to which Louis XIII, in addition to the legal heir - the future Louis XIV - had an illegitimate son, who was eliminated after the death of his father by his half-brother. On the islands of St. Margaret, where he was exiled, he allegedly became friends with the jailer’s daughter, who bore him a son. When the masked prisoner was later transported to the Bastille, his young son was sent to Corsica, giving him the surname Buonaparte, which means “from the good side,” “from good parents.” This story was supposed to prove that imperial crowns do not fall by themselves on the heads of artillery lieutenants.
Let's move on to the next contender - the Count of Vermandois, the natural son of Louis XIV and Mademoiselle de La Vallière.
In 1745, “Secret Notes on the History of Persia” was published in Amsterdam, in which the anecdotal history of the French court was told under fictitious (“Persian”) names. By the way, they said that the padishah Sha-Abbas (Louis XIV) had two sons: the legitimate Sedzh-Mirza (Louis, Dauphin) and the illegitimate Giafer (Count of Vermandois). And so “Jiafer once forgot himself to such an extent that he slapped Sedzh-Mirza.” The Council of State spoke in favor of the death penalty for Giafer, who had inflicted a grave insult on the prince of the blood. Then Sha-Abbas, who dearly loved Jiafer, listened to the advice of one minister: he sent his offending son into the army and announced his sudden death on the road, but in fact hid him in his castle. Subsequently, Giafer, keeping the secret of his disappearance, moved from fortress to fortress, and when he needed to see people, he put on a mask.
The book by the anonymous author immediately became popular in Paris, temporarily eclipsing other hypotheses about the Iron Mask. However, painstaking research has shown that not a single memoirist of the era of Louis XIV said a word about the insult inflicted on the Dauphin by the Count of Vermandois. In addition, the official date of the count's death (which, according to this version, should correspond to the date of his disappearance) - November 18, 1683 - does not allow him to be in Pignerol in 1679 as the Iron Mask.
The writer Saint-Foy saw in the Iron Mask Duke James of Monmouth, the son of the English king Charles II (he ascended the throne after the death of Cromwell in 1658) and the courtesan Lucy Walters. The king loved this son dearly. The illegitimate prince, raised Protestant, lived in the palace, had pages and servants, and during his travels he was accepted as a member of the royal family. As an adult, he received the title of Duke of Monmouth and became the first man at court.
Charles II had no legitimate children, and therefore the Duke of York, who was extremely unpopular among the people for his adherence to Catholicism, was considered the heir to the throne. Rumors spread throughout the country that the Duke of Monmouth was no less a legitimate heir than the Duke of York, since Charles II allegedly had a secret marriage with Lucy Walters, etc. The Duke of York began to look at Monmouth as a dangerous rival, and he had to leave for Holland. Here he met the news of the death of Charles II and the accession of the Duke of York under the name of James II.
On July 11, 1685, Monmouth, accompanied by 80 people, landed near the small port of Lima, on the Dorsetshire coast. Unfurling the blue banner, he boldly entered the city. He was greeted with delight. From all sides, those dissatisfied with the new king flocked to the place of his landing to greet the “good duke, the Protestant duke, the rightful heir to the throne.” A few days later, at least six thousand people gathered under his leadership. The army was followed by a huge crowd of people who had no weapons.
However, after the first successes, a streak of failures followed. London did not support the applicant. The expedition to Scotland failed. The aristocracy did not side with the former idol. But parliament did not proclaim him king.
Monmouth fell into complete despair. In the battle with the royal army at Sedgemoor, he fled, abandoning his soldiers, who shouted after him: “Shells, for God’s sake, shells!” A few days later, the Portman police detained him near Ringwood: Monmouth, dressed in rags, surrendered without a word, trembling all over.
During the investigation and trial of him, Monmouth showed undignified cowardice: having asked the king for an audience, he lay at his feet and kissed his hands and knees, begging for mercy... James II behaved no better. By agreeing to meet with the prisoner, he thereby gave him hope for pardon and, according to tradition, had to save his life. But the king demanded the death sentence, and on July 16, 1685, Monmouth was executed in London in front of thousands of people. The executioner cut off his head only with the fourth blow, for which he was almost torn to pieces by the crowd who idolized the “good Protestant Duke.”
Saint-Foy tried to argue that Monmouth's royal birth alone should have protected him from the death penalty, and therefore the Duke was in fact sent to France, and another man was executed in his place. But no matter how hard the writer tried, his version remained the most unconvincing of all that existed. This, of course, does not mean that it is not suitable as the basis for an action-packed novel...
The mysterious disappearance of the Duke de Beaufort gave Lagrange-Chancel and Langlais-Dufres the occasion to create a system of evidence in favor of his candidacy for the role of the Iron Mask.
The Duke de Beaufort was the grandson of Henry IV and Gabriela d'Estre. His athletic build, expressive facial features, immoderate gestures, the habit of akimbo, always curled mustache - all this gave him a very defiant appearance. Without receiving any education, he remained a complete ignoramus in everything sciences, including the science of secular life - the court laughed at the rudeness of his manners and language, but the army idolized him for his desperate courage.
With the beginning of the Fronde (a movement in France against absolutism represented by the government of Cardinal Mazarin), he rushed headlong into it. But he played a rather pitiful role in its events, because he himself did not really know what cause he actually stood for. But with his swaggering behavior and rude soldierly speech, he was extremely popular with the common people, for which he earned the nickname “king of the markets.”
As soon as Louis XIV reigned, Beaufort became the most obedient of his subjects. In 1669, he was appointed commander-in-chief of an expeditionary force sent to the shores of Candia to clear the island of the Turks. Twenty-two military battleships and three galleys carried seven thousand troops - the flower of the French nobility (in some ways, the Candia expedition was a new crusade). Candia was once ruled by the Venetians. By the time of the events described, only the largest city of the island remained in their hands, which they defended against a numerically superior enemy at the cost of incredible efforts. One bastion had already been taken by the Turks, and the townspeople expected the fall of the city and inevitable massacre any day now.
On the night of June 25, the French squadron that had arrived the day before landed troops on the island. Beaufort personally commanded one of the detachments. The Turks could not withstand the onslaught and fled. But at a moment when Beaufort's soldiers were already anticipating complete victory, a powder magazine with 25 thousand pounds of gunpowder exploded - it destroyed an entire battalion of French on the spot. The monstrous explosion caused panic in their ranks - the soldiers felt that the entire Turkish camp had been mined. In one minute the roles changed: now the French were rushing headlong to the shore, to their boats, and the perked-up Turks were pressing on them, not allowing them to come to their senses.
During the flight, everyone somehow forgot about Beaufort. Some of the fugitives later vaguely recalled that the duke, riding a wounded horse, seemed to be trying to gather brave men around him to repel the Turkish onslaught. When the panic subsided, they missed Beaufort, but he was not among the survivors, nor among the killed, nor among the wounded, nor among the prisoners... The commander-in-chief disappeared without a trace.
The above-mentioned authors - supporters of identifying the Duke de Beaufort with the Iron Mask - insisted that he was kidnapped during a general panic by Maulevrier, the brother of Colbert, who was at enmity with the Duke. But the later published correspondence between Maulevrier and his brother refuted this argument. In the very first letter sent to Versailles after the unsuccessful landing, Maulevrier writes: “Nothing can be more pitiable than the unfortunate fate of the admiral (Beaufort. - Note ed.). Being obliged to rush in different directions during the entire attack in order to collect everything that remained of our troops, I positively asked everyone about Beaufort, and no one could tell me anything.” And Beaufort’s age (he was born in 1616) does not correspond well with the age of the Iron Mask (Voltaire said that he heard “from Marsolan, the son-in-law of the Bastille apothecary, that the latter, some time before the death of the disguised prisoner, heard from him that he was about sixty years").
It is impossible even briefly to dwell on all the versions explaining the identity and crimes of the Iron Mask. Let me just say that they saw him as an illegitimate son: Cromwell; Marie Louise of Orléans, first wife of the Spanish King Charles II; Maria Anna of Neuburg, second wife of the same king; Henrietta of Orleans and Louis XIV; her and the Comte de Guiche; Maria Theresa, wife of Louis XIV, and the black servant she brought with her from Spain; Christina, Queen of Sweden, and her great equerry, Monaldesque. They said that a woman could be hiding under the mask.
These legends occupied secular society so much that even Louis XIV, Louis XV and Louis XVI were rumored to be interested in the Iron Mask and allegedly revealed an extraordinary secret to each other on their deathbeds - the historian Michelet insisted on this. The Duke of Choiseul said that when he asked who was hiding under the iron mask, Louis XV replied: “If you knew his real name, you would be very disappointed, it is not at all interesting.” And Madame Pompadour assured that in response to a similar question, the king said: “This is the minister of the Italian prince.”
Finally, Louis XVI ordered Minister Maurepas to clarify this mystery. After conducting an investigation, Maurepas reported to the king that the Iron Mask was a dangerous intriguer, a subject of the Duke of Mantua.
Fundamental research by French and Italian historians of the late 19th - early 20th centuries (Tapena, F. Brentano, A. Sorel) confirms that Maurepas most likely told the truth: the famous prisoner was Count Ercole Antonio Matteoli, minister of Charles IV, Duke of Mantua.
Charles IV was distinguished by his riotous behavior and complete indifference to the affairs of the state. He spent most of the year in Venice, and his favorites ruled in Mantua. The Duke very quickly exhausted his treasury and his health, but retained an insatiable thirst for pleasure. In search of money, he was ready to sell anything.
Abbé Estrad, then Louis XIV's ambassador to Venice, took advantage of Charles's chronic lack of money to perform an important service for his government. He set out to force the Duke to sell Louis the city of Casale, which was the key to Upper Italy. The enterprising abbot's plan promised the king the opportunity to intervene in Italian affairs at any time and counteract the similar desire of Spain and Austria. However, the scandalous purchase, contrary to international law and affecting the interests of many powers, had to be made in the strictest secrecy. Looking for an intermediary for this transaction among the duke's favorites, Estrad settled on Matteoli, as the person with the greatest influence on Charles.
Matteoli was born into a noble and wealthy family of Bologna on December 1, 1640. Already as a student, he gained some fame, receiving the highest award in civil law, and after graduation, the title of professor at the University of Bologna. Having become related to a venerable senatorial family in Bologna, he moved to Mantua, where he gained the favor of Charles IV, who made him a supernumerary senator, a title that conferred the dignity of count. The extremely ambitious Matteoli was aiming for the position of first minister. But for this, he was looking for an opportunity to provide the Duke with some extraordinary service and joyfully seized on Estrada’s offer.
It was decided to arrange a secret meeting between Estrada and Karl in Venice, during the carnival - the holiday made it possible to wear a mask without attracting attention. At midnight on March 13, 1678, while leaving the Doge's Palace, Estrad and Charles met, as if by chance, in the square and discussed the terms of the treaty for an hour. The Duke agreed to cede Casale for 100 thousand crowns, so that this amount would be paid to him upon the exchange of ratified treaties in two terms, after three months each. So this shameful deal took place in the very center of Venice - a city that has long been famous for its spies and whose government did its best to prevent French penetration into Northern Italy!
A few months later, Matteoli, who secretly arrived at Versailles, received a copy of the treaty signed by the king. Immediately after this, he had a secret audience with Louis and was received in the most favorable manner: the king presented him with a valuable diamond and ordered him to give 400 double louis, promising an even larger sum after the ratification of the treaty by the duke.
It seemed that nothing could prevent the successful conclusion of the negotiations. However, less than two months after Matteoli’s visit to Versailles, the courts of Turin, Madrid, Vienna, Milan, the Venetian Republic, that is, everyone who benefited from preventing the deal, learned in the smallest detail about the terms of the agreement. Estrade notified Louis that he had undeniable evidence of Matteoli's betrayal.
Now it is no longer possible to say with certainty what was the reason for Matteoli’s act: self-interest or belated patriotism. It seems that the successful outcome of the negotiations promised him, if not more benefits, then at least less trouble.
Louis had to call it quits at the moment when a detachment of French troops led by the new commandant was ready to enter Casale. In addition to understandable annoyance, the king was tormented by the thought of a possible international scandal, since Matteoli still had ratification documents with Louis’ personal signature in his hands. To get them back, Estrad proposed capturing Matteoli. The king replied in a dispatch dated April 28, 1679: “His Majesty would like you to carry out your idea and order him to be taken secretly to Pignerol. An order is sent there to receive and maintain him so that no one knows about it... There is no need to notify the Duchess of Savoy about this order of His Majesty, but it is necessary that no one knows what will happen to this man.” These words, full of cold hatred for the one who almost made the “Sun King” the laughing stock of the whole world, contain the entire future fate of Matteoli - the Iron Mask. On May 2, he was captured “without noise” during a meeting with Estrada in a village near Turin and transported to Pignerol.
There were no papers incriminating the French government with him, but under threat of torture Matteoli admitted that he had given them to his father. He was forced to write a letter in his own hand, according to which agent Estrada freely received from Matteoli Sr. these important documents, which were immediately forwarded to Versailles.
Even earlier, Louis secretly withdrew his troops from the Italian border, and thus all traces of the scandalous deal with the Duke of Mantua disappeared. Matteoli remained, but, as we have seen, the king made sure that he too disappeared.
Estrada spread the rumor that Matteoli was the victim of a traffic accident. Charles IV pretended to believe this explanation, because he himself wanted to quickly hush up the shameful story. The Matteoli family remained silent: his wife went to a monastery, his father soon died. None of them made the slightest attempt to find out more about his fate, as if feeling the danger of such searches.
All concerns about maintaining Matteoli's incognito were entrusted to the commandant of the Pignerol Saint-Mars prison: from that time on, they became, as it were, prisoners of each other.
As the historian Tapin aptly notes, prisoners have no history. We only know that Matteoli, after two unsuccessful attempts to make himself known, completely resigned himself to his fate. Tapin in his book did not ignore the question of where the notorious mask came from and why the captive Saint-Mars was hidden under it.
In the 16th-17th centuries, the custom of wearing masks was widespread among the nobility, of which there are many historical examples. Gerard's memoirs describe how Louis XIII, who came on a date with Maria Mancini, “kissed her through the mask.” The Duchess of Montespan allowed her ladies-in-waiting to wear masks - she writes about this in her memoirs. Saint-Simon testifies that Marshal Clerambault “always wore a black velvet mask on the roads and in the galleries.” Police reports from the Parisian police chief Rainy indicate that in 1683, the wives of bankers and merchants dared to wear masks even to church, despite the strict prohibition of the authorities.
Thus, the uniqueness of the Iron Mask case lies only in the fact that the mask was put on a prisoner, of which there is really no example in the history of French prisons. However, says Tapin, for the Italian Matteoli, using a mask was completely natural. In Italy, masks were often worn on prisoners. Thus, in Venice, persons arrested by the Inquisition were transported to prison wearing masks. Matteoli, a partner in the Duke of Mantua's amusements, undoubtedly had a mask with him, under which he hid during negotiations with Estrada. “Of course,” writes Tapin, “she was among his things captured in 1678...”
The question of why Matteoli was put on a mask when he was transported to the Bastille is resolved quite simply: Matteoli lived in Paris for several months during his secret visit to France in 1678 and, therefore, could have been recognized. In addition, in 1698, that is, when Saint-Mars brought him with him to the Bastille, an Italian, Count Baselli, was sitting in the fortress, familiar with many noble families of Mantua and Bologna and, no doubt, knew Matteoli by sight. To keep the secret of the abduction of the Mantuan senator, Saint-Mars used a means exclusive to everyone except the Italian Matteoli. That is why the latter calmly wore a mask, while everyone who saw him was burning with excitement and curiosity.
There are two entries in the Bastille garrison log relating to the Iron Mask. The first reads: “The Governor of the Islands of Saint-Marguerite Saint-Mars, on September 18, 1698, took office as commandant of the Bastille and brought with him an unknown prisoner in a black velvet mask, who, even before arriving on the islands, was kept under surveillance in the fortress of Pignerol.” The second entry, dated November 19, 1703, says that on this day “an unknown prisoner in a velvet mask, whom Saint-Mars always carried with him, died unexpectedly.”
Saint-Mars included the deceased in the lists of the Church of St. Paul under the name Marteoli (as, by the way, Matteoli was often called by Louvois in his dispatches to Saint-Mars). It is likely that over the years the commandant forgot the name of his prisoner or made a typo - at that time names were often spelled incorrectly, especially foreign ones.
Literature
Ladoucette E. The Iron Mask (novel). - M., 1992.
Ptifis J.-C. Iron mask. - M., 2006.
Topin M. The Man in the Iron Mask. - Paris, 1870 (there is a pre-revolutionary translation into Russian).
In 1751 Voltaire published his book The Age of Louis XIV. Chapter XXV contained the following story: “A few months after the death of this minister (Mazarin - Author), an unprecedented event occurred, and what is very strange is that it was ignored by historians. An unknown prisoner, taller than average, young, and possessing the noblest bearing, was sent to a castle on the island of Saint Margaret, located near Provence. While traveling, he wore a mask with steel latches on the bottom, which allowed him to eat without removing the mask. The order was given to kill him if he removed his mask.
He remained on the island until a trusted officer named Saint-Mars, governor of Pinerol, having taken command of the Bastille, went to the island of St. Margaret and - this was in 1690 - took the masked prisoner to the Bastille. Before this move, the Marquis de Louvois came to the island. The unknown was taken to the Bastille, where he was accommodated as well as was possible in such a place. He was not refused anything, no matter what he asked. The prisoner had a taste for extremely fine linen and lace, and received it. Played the guitar for hours. The most exquisite dishes were prepared for him, and the old doctor of the Bastille, who treated this man, who had peculiar illnesses, said that he had never seen his face, although he often examined his body and tongue. According to the doctor, the prisoner was remarkably built, his skin was slightly dark; The voice was striking just with its intonations alone. This man never complained about his condition, and never once betrayed his origins.
The unknown died in 1703 and was buried near the parish church of Saint-Paul. What is doubly surprising is that when he was brought to the island of St. Margaret, not a single disappearance of famous people was recorded in Europe.”
The next year, reprinting his great book, Voltaire again returned to this plot. This indicates that the first story aroused the curiosity of readers... Here are the new “clarifications”:
“The prisoner was, without a doubt, noble, this follows from what happened in the first days on the island. The governor himself set the table for him and then left, having previously locked the cell. One day, a prisoner scratched something on a silver plate with a knife and threw it out the window towards the boat, which was located near the shore, right at the foot of the tower. The fisherman who owned this boat picked up the plate and brought it to the governor. The latter, extremely concerned, asked the fisherman: “Have you read what is scratched on this plate, and has anyone seen it in your hands?” “I can’t read,” answered the fisherman. “I just found her, and no one except me saw her.” This man was kept locked up until the governor finally found out that the fisherman really couldn’t read, and no one saw the plate.” “You can go,” he told the fisherman. “You’re lucky that you can’t read.”
One of those who knew these facts, a person worthy of trust, is still alive today. Monsieur de Chamillard was the last minister who knew this secret. His son-in-law, Second Marshal de La Feuillade, told me that he begged his father-in-law on his knees, when he was on his deathbed, to reveal to him who the man known as the Man in the Iron Mask really was. Chamilar answered him that this was a state secret and he swore an oath never to disclose it. Finally, there are still many of our contemporaries who know the truth, but I do not know a fact that is neither more unusual nor better established.”
A year later, Voltaire, in his “Appendix to the Age of Louis XIV,” addressed the man in the Mask for the third time. In response to doubts expressed about the story of the plate, Voltaire argued that the story was often told by Monsieur Riusse, the old military commissar from Cannes. However, “the story of the misadventures of this state prisoner was spread through all the newspapers throughout the country, and the Marquis d'Arzhap, whose honesty is known, learned about it long ago from Riusse and other people known in his province.”
After which Voltaire turns to the curious facts that he discovered earlier: “Many people ask me who was this unknown and at the same time so famous captive? I am just a historian and in no way a sorcerer. It was certainly not the Comte de Vermandois; it was also not the Duke de Beaufort, who disappeared only during the siege of Kandy and who could not be identified in the body beheaded by the Turks. Mr. de. Chamillard once threw out, in order to get rid of the persistent questions of the last Marshal de La Feuillade and M. de Comartin, the phrase that this was the man who owned all the secrets of M. Fouquet.
He admitted, however, that the prisoner was taken to the Bastille after the death of Mazarin. However, why such precautions in relation to only Fouquet's trusted representative - a person, in this case, of secondary importance?
First of all, we must reflect on the fact that not a single significant person disappeared during this time. At the same time, it is clear that the prisoner was an extremely important person, and everything that was connected with him was always kept secret. That's all we can guess."
Seventeen years have passed since the first publication about the Iron Mask. The surviving correspondence from that time reveals attempts to find out the truth. Princess Victoria begged her father, Louis XV, to tell her the secret of Alas.
In 1770, Voltaire decided to once again return to the Iron Mask. In his “Questions for the Encyclopedia” there is a phrase that contains suspicions previously expressed only in the form of hints: “It is clear that if he was not allowed into the courtyard of the Bastille and was allowed to speak even to his doctor only with his face covered with a mask, then this was done out of fear that some amazing resemblance to someone else might be noticed in his features.” The interest in this book was so great that a reprint was required in 1771. The exciting passage about the “amazing resemblance” was, of course, reprinted and, moreover, continued by the “Publisher’s Supplement,” which is extremely innocent in form. You can guess from whose pen this “explanation” came!
“The Iron Mask was, without a doubt, the brother - the elder brother - of Louis XIV, whose mother had that particularly delicate taste that Voltaire speaks of in relation to fine linen. After I read about this in the memoirs of that era, the queen’s predilection reminded me of the same tendency in the Iron Mask, after which I finally ceased to doubt that it was her son, of which all other circumstances had long convinced me... »
The “publisher” then explains how this sensational similarity can prove him right. He recalls that by the time the future Louis XIV was born, Louis XIII had not lived with the queen for a long time. She was barren for a long time, and this worried the royal family. Sometimes she allowed herself some deviation from the rules of strict morality, as a result of which a child was born. She trusted Richelieu, who took all necessary measures to hide the birth of the child. The Queen and the Cardinal raised the child in secret. It is possible that Louis XIV only learned of the existence of his older brother after Mazarin's death. “Then the monarch learned of the existence of a brother, an elder brother, whom his mother could not disown, and who possessed characteristics that revealed his origin; the monarch reasoned that this child, born in wedlock, could not now, after the death of Louis XIII, be declared illegitimate without causing political complications and a loud scandal. Louis XIV used the only prudent and most just method of strengthening his personal peace and the peace of the state, and this saved him from having to resort to cruelty, which would have seemed politically necessary to another, less conscientious and magnanimous monarch than Louis XIV.
“It seems to me that the more you study the history of that time, the more you are amazed at the combination of circumstances that testify in favor of this assumption,” wrote Voltaire.
Finita la comedy. A curtain. Over the course of twenty years, Voltaire developed his most remarkable script that ever existed. It has everything: a mysterious birth, the elder brother of the “greatest king in the world,” state interests, the imprisonment of an innocent man. Finally, the mask that the unfortunate prince had to wear all his life - the iron mask!
So says the legend, whose father is Voltaire.
But what does History say?
The Treaty of Cherak granted Louis XII the territory of Pinerol in 1631 - Pinero in Italian. This small town, located on the Italian side of the Alps, between Briançon and Turin, was the headquarters of the command of the raid in Perusa, one of the ports of Italy.
Richelieu, of course, fortified this area. Flat roofs and small turrets contrasted with steep bastions, earthen barriers and ditches. Not far from the city, the traveler could see a fortress and a huge Donjon. This menacing colossus must have seemed somewhat out of place under the Italian sky. It was similar to the Bastille, the Temple Tower or the Donjon of Vincennes: the same medieval architecture. Three large towers stood on the sides of the massive rectangular structure, in addition, there were two more small corner towers. The donjon was completely separated from the fortress by a high round wall. The fortress was under the command of the royal lieutenant; It is curious that at the same time the donjon was not subject to the authority of the lieutenant, but this fact finds the following explanation - since 1665, the Pinerol donjon was, by order of Lovois, under the command of Monsieur Saint-Mars.
Monsieur de Saint-Map will forever remain in history as an exemplary jailer.
In 1650 he became a musketeer. His superiors valued him as serious, reliable, “prudent and accurate in his service.” In 1660 he became a corporal, and a year later - a sergeant. Unexpectedly, fate smiled at him: d'Artagnan instructed him to arrest Pelisson, while he himself was detained in Nantes Fouquet. In this case, Saint-Mars showed his best side. When they began to look for a person to manage the Pinerol donjon, who was suitable for supervising Fouquet, the choice of the sovereign - and this is quite natural - fell precisely on Saint-Mars.
He was not an evil man. Only very ambitious. And greedy for money. He was somewhat upset that his fellow musketeers had covered themselves with glory while he was forced to guard prisoners. During every military campaign, he begged Louvois to send him to the front line. Louvois refused, but increased his salary. Saint-Mars' career as a jailer lasted forty years. Continuous promotions led him - from one prison to another - to command of the Bastille.
It was in Pinerol that one fine day Saint-Mars received a new prisoner, accompanied by special instructions. He had no doubt that the man he had been assigned to guard with such care would later cause a great stir throughout the world. This prisoner was - no more, no less - the one who would later go down in history as the Man in the Iron Mask...
The date of his arrival in Pinerol is unknown. Otherwise, it would be possible to immediately establish who was hiding under the mask. The fact is that archival documents relating to the prison run by Saint-Mars have been preserved, and they are very accurate. They inform us in detail about the events that took place in Pinerola: the arrival of the prisoners, their names, the reasons for their imprisonment, the deplorable episodes of their imprisonment, their illnesses, deaths, release, if this still occasionally happened.
The only thing that can be said with certainty is that after 1665 a prisoner came into the custody of Saint-Mars, and this prisoner was the Man in the Iron Mask. In order to determine the identity of the mysterious person, it is necessary to resort to the method of exclusion and select from the list of prisoners those who meet the necessary characteristics that allow them to bear such a “title”.
It is indisputably established that the masked man will follow Saint-Mars all the way to the Bastille. In 1687 Saint-Mars became governor of the island of Sainte-Marguerite; the prisoner was also transferred there. Eleven years have passed. The jailer and the prisoner grew old together. Finally, at the age of seventy-two, Saint-Mars was appointed commandant of the Bastille. Minister Barbezou, son and successor of Louvois, wrote to Saint-Mar: “The king finds it possible for you to leave the island of St. Margaret and go to the Bastille with your old prisoner, taking all precautions so that no one sees him or knows about him.” . You may write in advance to His Majesty's lieutenant at the Bastille to keep a room ready to accommodate the prisoner immediately upon his arrival."
Saint-Mars had no choice but to obey. He always obeyed.
But how to do that? Finally he had an idea: instead of hiding his prisoner, why not just hide his face? Without a doubt, it was thanks to this idea that the Man in the Iron Mask was born. Let us note once again - never before this moment had the mysterious prisoner worn a mask. SenMar succeeded - for a long time! - keep his secret. The first time the prisoner put on a mask was during a trip to Paris. In this guise he went down in history...
Actually, the mask was made of black velvet. Voltaire supplied it with steel latches. The authors who took up this topic after him wrote about it as being made “entirely of steel.” It got to the point that historians debated the question of whether the unfortunate prisoner could shave; they mentioned small tweezers, “also made of steel,” for removing hair. (Moreover, in 1885 in Langres, among old scrap iron, they found a mask that perfectly matched Voltaire’s description. There is no doubt: an inscription in Latin confirmed its authenticity...) In August 1698, Saint-Mars and his prisoner went to path. Participating in the journey were Formanua, nephew and lieutenant Saint-Mars, priest Giraud, “Major” Rosarge, Sergeant Lecue and prison guard Antoine Larue, simply Rue. They had to spend a whole month on the road. Without a doubt, this journey played a big role in creating the legend of the Mask. It can be said that the masked prisoner caused a great stir with his trip. Evidence of this has survived to this day.
Saint-Mars was rich. Very rich. His income, according to Lovoy, "was as great as the income of the governors governing large territories in France." And prison is not conducive to expenses... After his death, the guard of Mask, who received the title of nobility, left, in addition to the lands of Dimon, Coat and Irimon, luxurious furnishings, also six hundred thousand francs in cash. But the trouble was that poor Saint-Mars, inseparable from his prisoners, especially from one of them, had never even visited the lands he had acquired. He wanted to take advantage of a trip to Paris to stay at Coats, near Villeneuve-le-Roi, “a beautiful structure and style of Henry IV, standing in the middle of a forest and a vineyard.” Seventy years later, Saint-Mars's great-nephew Formanois de Coat wrote, at the request of Freron, Voltaire's enemy, a story about a memorable visit: “The Masked Man arrived on a stretcher, followed by Saint-Mars's litter: they were accompanied by several horsemen. The peasants moved towards their master. Saint-Mars shared the meal with his prisoner, who sat with his back to the dining room windows overlooking the courtyard. The peasants whom I asked did not see whether he ate with a mask on or not; but they clearly saw that on the sides of the plate of Saint-Mars, who was sitting facing them, lay two pistols. They were served by only one footman, who went out to get the dishes, which were brought to him in the hallway; The door behind him was closed every time with the utmost care. When the prisoner passed through the yard, the black mask was always on his face. The peasants noticed that his lips and teeth were visible from under the mask and that he was tall and fair-haired... Saint-Mars slept on the bed that was prepared for him near the bed of the man in the mask. I have not heard any rumors regarding this person's foreign accent."
How nice it was to live in Palto! But poor Saint-Mars had to leave his palace and accompany the masked man to Paris. On September 18, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, a small motorcade arrived at the Bastille.
In the journal for registering prisoners, M. de Junca, the royal lieutenant, made the following entry:
“On the eighteenth of September, on Thursday, at three o’clock in the afternoon, M. de Saint-Map, commandant of the Bastille fortress, arrived to take office from the island of St. Margaret, bringing with him his long-time prisoner, held under his supervision back in Pinerol, who must wear a mask at all times and must not be named; he was placed, immediately upon arrival, in the first cell of the Basinier Tower until nightfall, and at nine o'clock in the evening I myself, together with M. de Rosarge, one of the sergeants brought with him by the commandant, transferred the prisoner to the third cell of the Bertollier Tower, prepared by me by order of M. de Saint-Mars, a few days before the arrival of the prisoner, who was entrusted to the care of M. de Rosarge, who is in the pay of M. Commandant.”
Each tower of the Bastille, in particular the Bertollier tower, consisted of six floors. On each floor there was an octagonal chamber with a fireplace, twelve paces wide, long and high, with a ceiling covered with plaster and a cement floor. Each chamber had stones with an exhaust hood and a small niche in the thickness of the wall for “personal use.”
Four years later M. du Junca was forced to open the Bastille register once more. A sad event happened: M. Saint-Mars lost his oldest prisoner.
M. du Junca recorded the following: “On the same day, 1703, November 19th, Monday, this unknown prisoner in a mask of black velvet, brought by M. de Saint-Mars from the island of St. Margaret and guarded by him for a long time, died at about ten o'clock in the evening after feeling a little unwell after mass the day before, but at the same time he was not seriously ill. M. Giraud, our priest, confessed him. Due to the suddenness of his death, our confessor performed the sacrament of confession literally at the last moment of his life; this long-guarded prisoner was buried in the parish cemetery of Saint-Paul; when registering the death, Mr. Rosarz, a doctor, and Mr. Rey, a surgeon, designated him by a certain name, also unknown.”
After some time, M. du Junca managed to find out under what name the prisoner was reported. Then he entered this name in the journal: “I learned that since Mr. de Marchiel was registered, 40 l have been paid. for burial."
The Saint-Paul registry actually listed Marchiali's name.
Obviously, it was just a pseudonym, an alien name intended to confuse the overly curious.
So, it is known that the masked man was a prisoner of Saint-Mars during the latter’s “reign” in Pinerol. When Saint-Mars left Pinerol in 1681, he had only five prisoners under his command, not counting Lauzun.
Therefore, one must look for the Mask among these five people. Here we are talking, as Maurice Duvivier said, “of arithmetic reasoning based on indisputable documents.”
Who were these prisoners? First of all, we must note the famous Lozun, bound by certain obligations with the princess and released in 1681, whom no one thought to consider the Iron Mask. Here are the remaining five: Estache Dauger, arrested in 1669; Jacobin monk, imprisoned April 7, 1674; a certain La Riviere; a spy named Dubruy, imprisoned in June 1676; Count Mattioli, envoy of the Duke of Mantua, arrested on May 2, 1679.
The Masked Man appeared on this list under one of these names.
Let's take a closer look at these prisoners. On July 19, 1669, Lovois informed Saint-Mars about the arrival of a prisoner in Pinerol: “Monsieur Saint-Mars! The Emperor ordered me to send a certain Eustache Dauger to Pinerol; when maintaining it, it seems extremely important to ensure careful security and, in addition, to ensure that the prisoner cannot transmit information about himself to anyone. I will notify you about this prisoner so that you prepare for him a reliably guarded solitary cell in such a way that no one can enter the place where he will be and that the doors of this cell are securely closed so that your sentries cannot do anything. hear. It is necessary that you yourself bring the prisoner everything he needs once a day and under no circumstances listen to him if he wants to say anything, threatening him with death if he opens his mouth to say anything, if only this will not apply to the expression of his requests. I inform M. Poupard that he is obliged to do everything you require; You will furnish the cell for the one they bring to you with everything necessary, taking into account that he is just a servant and he does not need any significant benefits ... "
What crime entailed such punishment? Louvois says nothing on this matter. So, this man was "just a servant," but no doubt he was involved in some serious business. He must have known some secrets that seemed so important to Louvois that no one, not even Saint-Mars, knew the true guilt of this man.
Doge was constantly in complete silence and absolute solitude. It was said of Pinerola that it was “the hell of all state prisons.” Fouquet and Lauzun were exceptions, which, however, confirm the rule. They had servants, they could read and write. Those who were imprisoned “in the darkness of the towers” had nothing similar.
Four years after the arrest, Doge Saint-Mars reported to Louvois: “As for the prisoner in the tower brought by M. de Voroy, he says nothing, looks quite happy, like a man who has completely surrendered to the will of the Lord and Sovereign.”
Meanwhile, Saint-Mars found himself faced with a delicate problem: M. Fouquet, the longest-serving and famous prisoner, could not manage without a servant. Meanwhile, the commandant could not find lackeys who would agree to become voluntary prisoners. Only two devoted people decided on this feat of asceticism: Champagne, but he died in 1674, and a certain La Riviere, but he was often sick. Saint-Mars found a way out: since Doget, according to Louvois, was a lackey, why shouldn’t he serve M. Fouquet? Louvois agreed. Fouquet was sentenced to life imprisonment. But in sending his consent, Louvois insisted that all measures be taken to ensure that Dauger never met Lauzun, since Lauzun would one day be released.
But fearing that Dauger would speak, the minister one day wrote personally to M. Fouquet, inquiring whether Dauger had betrayed his secret? The act was rather naive: could Fouquet answer such a question in the affirmative?
It is easy to imagine the confusion and anger of the commandant and minister when, after Fouquet’s death in 1680, a “hole” was discovered in his cell through which he communicated with Lauzun. Saint-Map was sure of the complicity in this of Doge and his comrade La Riviere, the old lackey of M. Fouquet.
Louvois ordered both. Doge and La Riviere were "confined into the same cell, so that you could answer before His Majesty for the fact that they could not communicate with anyone, either verbally or in writing."
So La Riviere - the lackey who selflessly joined Fouquet in Pinerol - became a state criminal.
Everything concerning the Doge was still kept in the strictest confidence. Meanwhile, he indulged in rather strange activities. In the correspondence between Saint-Mars and Louvois, the question of the “drugs” used by Doge was raised. Louvois wrote:
“Tell me how Estache Dauger did what you wrote about, and where he got the necessary drugs for this, assuming, of course, to take it on faith that it was not you who provided them to him.”
What “drugs” are we talking about? Unknown. The expressions in which Louvois speaks about Doge and La Riviera are worthy of attention: “The Emperor learned from your letter addressed to me, dated the 23rd of last month, about the death of M. Fouquet and about your judgment regarding the fact that M. Lauzun learned most of the important information that M. Fouquet had and which was known to La Riviere: in this regard, His Majesty ordered me to inform you that after you close the hole through which Mr. on Fouquet and M. Lauzun, moreover, in such a way that there is nothing else like this in this place, in this way you will eliminate the connection between the cell of the late Fouquet and the cell that you adapted for his daughter, after which you must, according to His Majesty’s plan, place Mr. -on Lauzun in the cell of the late M. Fouquet... It is also necessary that you convince M. Lauzun that Estache Doget and La Riviere have been released, and also that you answer this way to everyone who asks you about this; while you imprison both of them in one cell, and then you will be able to answer in the face of His Majesty for the fact that they will not be able to communicate with anyone, either verbally or in writing, and for the fact that Mr. Lozun will not be able to find out that they are kept there.”
In Louvois' mind, Lauzun, Dauger, La Riviere and the Fouquet mystery were closely linked. It was necessary to “convince” Lauzun that those who shared with him the knowledge of these secrets, Doge and La Riviere, were released.
Now let's turn to the stories of other prisoners. In April 1674, a Jacobin monk was brought to Pinerol. Louvois wrote about him to Saint-Mars as “a prisoner, although unknown, but important.” He had to be kept in “harsh conditions, no fire should be given to his cell unless severe cold or illness required it, he should not be given any other food except bread, wine and water, for he is a complete scoundrel who has not suffered deserved punishment. At that time, you can allow him to listen to the masses, making sure, however, that no one sees him and that he cannot tell anyone about himself. His Majesty also finds it quite possible to provide him with several prayer books.”
What did this monk do to be treated so harshly? In all likelihood, he abused the trust of Madame d'Armagnac and Madame de Württemberg, “significant persons,” by defrauding them of a tidy sum under the pretext of practicing alchemy. This was the same “Dominican, the likes of whom in France are called Jacobins.” Primi spoke about him Visconti, adding that he “claimed to discover the philosopher’s stone, and therefore all the ladies revolved around him... They said something about his long stay with Madame d’Armagnac, and he ended up being sent to prison as a deceiver.”
Madame de Montespan's hatred added fuel to the fire. Princess Marie of Württemberg was an important person at court. She was distinguished by rare beauty.
They said it was quite possible that the king had his eye on her. Madame de Montespan, overcome with envy, told the king that the princess was in an affair with a Dominican, i.e. with our Jacobin monk.
All these intrigues brought the unfortunate man to Pinerol. Louvois tried to forget him. In his correspondence there is not even a mention of a monk, while there is a lot of talk about the Doge. They started talking about the monk again only two years later, in 1676, when he went crazy.
Saint-Mars thought to cure him by ending his painful loneliness. Shortly before this, a certain Dubreuil was placed at his disposal, whom he placed with the monk.
Of the “five” we already know Doge, La Riviera, a Jacobin monk. Let us now turn to Dubreuil. Historian Jung has reconstructed his story: he was a French officer used as a spy and caught in treason. He has already been imprisoned in Bordeaux. After escaping from there in 1675, he settled in Bale under the name Samson. He offered the Comte de Montclar, commander of the Army of the Rhine, information regarding the strength and movements of the German troops of Montecuculli. Louvois agreed and even promised a “good reward.” Unfortunately for him, Dubreuil did not stop there: at the same time he offered the same services to Montecuculli. Quartermaster General Lagrange quickly exposed Dubreuil. Lagrange told Louvois: “I see no other way to arrest him than to keep an observer in Bale who would watch him until he is within reach, and then capture him.”
At the first opportunity, on April 28, the spy was detained and imprisoned in the Brizash fortress. A little later, Louvois gave the order to transfer him to Besançon, then to Lyon, from where the archbishop was to “send him to Pinerol, where he will be handed over to Saint-Mars for confinement in the donjon of the fortress.”
The minister notified Saint-Mars: “You can place him with the prisoner who was sent to you last (with the Jacobin monk). From time to time you should send me messages regarding him.”
Every time Louvois spoke to Dubreuil, his words carried a hint of contempt. The spy, he said, was “one of the biggest swindlers in the whole world”, “a man of destructive behavior”, “not a single word of whom cannot be trusted”, “who did not deserve to be treated attentively”. However, he can “listen to Mass with M. Fouquet or M. Lauzun” without taking special precautions.
In Pinerol, Dubreuil had no luck. Being placed in the same cell with a half-crazed Jacobin, it’s not surprising to go crazy yourself. He was delivered from this unpleasant neighborhood; the Jacobin monk was placed with Lauzun's footman. The monk tolerated this change so poorly that he was soon considered “mad.” He had to be tied up and “taken care of”: i.e. apply to him an extremely specific prison effective psychotherapeutic method - caning. He calmed down, but continued to be in some stupor.
In 1680, Saint-Mars called him “fallen into childhood and melancholy”; he was now placed with the prisoner who had arrived the year before - along with Mattioli - the last of the "five".
Why did this Italian end up in Pinerola? For a long time, Louis XIV wanted to acquire the fortified Italian area around Casal, under the rule of the Duke of Mantua. The intermediary in these difficult trades was Count Hercule-Antoine Mattioli. An intriguer, a man with a tarnished reputation, primarily concerned with his own enrichment. In this matter, playing a double game, he betrayed both the Duke of Mantua and the King of France.
An ill-fated double play. You cannot deceive the Sun King with impunity. Mattioli had an appointment near Turin. Not suspecting anything, he arrived there and voluntarily boarded the carriage of the Abbé d'Estrada, the French ambassador to Venice. Not far from the French border, near a small hotel, a stop was made. Suddenly a platoon of cavalrymen surrounded the carriage.
Mattioli, no matter how much he shouted and was indignant, was captured and taken to Pinerol.
The arrest of an Italian minister on Italian soil is, as any historian would agree, a clear violation of human rights. Louvois, who authorized the arrest, and Katina, the executor, well understood their task: to carefully conceal this reprehensible fact. Katina wrote to Louvois:
“There was no cruelty involved; The name of this swindler is not known to anyone, not even to the officers who participated in his arrest...” And again: “I informed the Emperor about everything that I did with Mattioli, who is now listed under the name Lestan; no one here knows who he really is.”
The instructions received by Saint-Mars reflect the king's anger towards the Italian. Louvois wrote that de Lestan must be treated with all severity. Several months of detention in Pinerola had the usual effect on Mattioli.
Saint-Mars - Louvois, January 6, 1680: “I will inform the Sovereign that M. de Lestan, following the example of the monk I keep, has gone crazy and is behaving inappropriately.”
Lunois - Saint-Mars, July 10, 1680: “Regarding M. de Lestand, I admire your patience and the fact that you are waiting for a special order in order to deal with a swindler who does not show you the respect he deserves.” deserves it."
Saint-Mars - Louvois, September 7, 1680: “Since I was allowed to place Mattioli with the Jacobin monk, the said Mattioli was for four or five days in the complete conviction that the monk was assigned to him to keep an eye on him. Mattioli, almost as crazy as the monk, walked around the cell with long strides, saying at the same time that I could not deceive him and that he understood everything perfectly. The Jacobin, always sitting on his wretched bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, looked at him without listening. Signor Mattioli, convinced that he was a spy, sobered up only when one fine day the monk, completely naked, finally got up from his bed and began to preach something, as always, without any sense. I and my lieutenants watched this through the hole above the door.”
At this time, Saint-Mars was appointed commandant of the Exile fortress, where a vacancy had arisen after the death of the Duke de Lediguières. “His Majesty,” wrote Louvois, “wants that the two prisoners at the disposal of Saint-Mars be transported to the place of his new assignment with the same vigilance that took place in Pinerol.”
Which of the “five” took advantage of the privilege, so to speak, of following M. de Saint-Mars? In another letter, Louvois notes that the prisoners who will accompany Saint-Mars are “sufficiently significant personalities not to be transferred to other hands.” However, he clarifies that these two are from the lower tower. In the lower tower there are, on one side, Mattioli and the mad Jacobin, and on the other side, Doge and La Riviere.
Which one is Iron Mask? Saint-Mars sheds light on this issue in his letter to Abbe d'Estrade dated June 25, 1681: “Only yesterday I received provisions and two million livres in salary from the governor of Exile. They leave me with two of my lieutenants; I will also take two types from here, who are referred to only as "the gentlemen of the lower tower". Mattioli will remain here with two other prisoners. Villebois, one of my lieutenants, will guard them."
Important information: Mattioli was not considered "significant enough" to accompany Saint-Mars." Subsequent letters from Louvois make it clear that Dubreuil, like Mattioli, remained in Pinerola. Therefore, the two "types" taken away by Saint-Mars are Dauger and La Rivière, the remaining "inhabitants of the lower tower".
The formidable Exile fortress was located not far from Pinerol, only some 12 leagues away. It overlooked the Dorian Valley, on a steep hill. As at Pinerol, a four-sided donjon with corner towers. One of the walls was called “Caesar's Tower”. There Saint-Mars decided to place La Riviera and Doge.
Louvois reminded Saint-Mars that "it was necessary to ensure that there was no communication between the prisoners at Exile, who were called in Pinerol the prisoners of the lower tower." It was necessary to “take all precautions so that you can guarantee His Majesty that they will not speak not only to any outsiders, but also to anyone from the garrison of Exil.” Saint-Mars reassured the minister: “No one speaks to them except me, my officer, the priest M. Vignon and the doctor from Pragelas (six hours’ drive from here), who communicates with them only in my presence.”
The required precautions became excessive when, in 1683, Louvois prohibited confession except in cases of “danger of imminent death.” This danger for one of the prisoners arose in 1686 as a result of dropsy. Saint-Mars reported his death to Louvois on January 5, 1687.
Who was this deceased - Doge or La Riviere? Saint-Mars doesn't say that.
As soon as the body was buried, Saint-Mars received the good news: the king entrusted him with the management of the islands of Saint Margaret. What joy after Exile, where the commandant was languishing in melancholy! Naturally, he was invariably accompanied by his, as he said, personal prisoners, as before - “significant”: “I gave such strict orders regarding the protection of my prisoner that I can answer for him with my own head, I even forbade my lieutenant to talk to the prisoner , which is strictly followed. I think that when moving to the St. Margaret's Islands it is better for the prisoner to sit on a chair with a dark cloth wrapped around it, so that he can have enough air, but he cannot talk to anyone during the journey, not even to the soldiers, whom I will choose to accompany him, and so that no one can see him; This method seems to me more reliable than a stretcher, which can tear.” On April 30, 1687, Saint-Map arrived in the Sainte-Marguerite Islands with his prisoner. Everything went well until the prisoner began to choke. He arrived on the island half dead. But the result was achieved: “I can assure you, Your Highness, that no one saw him, and the way in which I transported him to the islands led to everyone trying to guess who my prisoner could be...”
Here you can see the origins of the legend. Excessive precaution, in the eyes of the public, emphasized the importance of the prisoner. It is likely that this importance may have been exaggerated. Saint-Mars emphasized this fact in his communications after Eustache-Dauger's arrival in Pinerol. He wrote: “Many here believe that this is the Marshal of France ...” In April 1670 from Pinerol about the same Doge: “There are too curious people who ask me about my prisoner as to why I take such strict measures to ensure security , in response to this I have to invent all sorts of fables, partly in order to laugh at the curious.”
After only nine months on the islands of St. Margaret, Saint-Mars could tell Louvois: “In this whole province they say that my prisoner is M. de Beaufort, the rest consider him the son of the late Cromwell.”
Until 1690, the long-time prisoner of Exile was the only prisoner on the island.
Then Protestant priests, victims of the repeal of the Edict of Nantes, became his neighbors. One of them was constantly writing something on everything possible: walls, linen, dishes. Thanks to this, no doubt, the anecdote was born about a silver dish found by a fisherman, on which the Iron Mask revealed the secret of his origin.
Louvois died in 1691. His son, Barbezier, took his place. And already a month after the death of his father, Barbezier wrote to Saint-Mars, and his first instructions concerned the same prisoner... Moreover, this message contains one clarification that allows us to establish the identity of this prisoner: “When will you have something to tell me regarding the prisoner whom You have been guarding for more than twenty years, I ask you to take the same precautions that you took under M. Louvois.”
“The prisoner you have been guarding for more than twenty years”: this phrase can in no way be attributed to La Riviere. And Dauger, arrested in July 1669, had already been in prison for twenty-two years.
The only possible conclusion is that the man who died in Exile was La Riviere. And the man brought to the islands of St. Margaret under a dark veil was Doge. Doge is the only prisoner whom Saint-Mars has not left since Pinerol. The only one who was considered “significant enough” not to be released even for a moment from the supervision of the royal jailers.
The only one that Barbezier took up immediately after coming to power.
In 1694, the peace of the island was disturbed by the arrival of persons without whom Saint-Mars could no longer live: the jailer often becomes attached to his prisoners. Barbézier decided that the prisoners remaining in Pinerol should be transported to the islands. In January of the same year, one of the oldest prisoners of Pinerol - a monk - died. The two survivors, Dubreuil and Mattioli (the latter accompanied by a servant) joined the Venerable M. de Saint-Mars.
Barbezier, as was his custom, provided the jailer with detailed instructions. The transfer was entrusted to M. de Laprade: since “it is undesirable to leave Pinerol before the guards arrive there and, in addition, the prisoners must be transported one by one, it is necessary that you ensure the rapid dispatch of the guards and prepare a suitable place where you place the prisoners on arrival; for you know that these are more important prisoners, at least one of them, than those already on the island. You must place them in the most secure places of detention."
So the circle narrows. There are only three candidates left for the “title” of “Iron Mask”: Doger, Mattioli and Dubreuil. All three ended up together on the island of St. Margaret in April 1694. Which of them was the Man in the Iron Mask?
At the end of April 1694, an unexpected event occurred on the island: one of the prisoners died. And we don't know which one.
In addition to the designated trinity, under the protection of Saint-Mars were:
1. Chevalier de Tezu (or Chezu), about whom we know nothing.
2. Other prisoners, the number of which remains unknown, among them were three or four Protestant priests.
Did any of them die? Or were they the “old ones” from Pinerol? How to find out?
Barbezier, in a letter dated May 10, provides important information on this matter: “I received,” he writes to Saint-Mars, “your letter dated the 29th of last month; You may carry out your proposal and place in the vaulted prison the footman of the deceased prisoner, ensuring that he is guarded as well as others, preventing him from communicating, oral or written, with anyone.”
Mr. Georges Mongredien, the author of a wonderful book on the Iron Mask, one of the latest and most objective, emphasizes that the presence of a footman is an exclusive privilege, which was enjoyed only by high-born prisoners. In Pinerol it was Fouquet and Losun. Count Mattioli, minister of the Duke of Mantua, also enjoyed this privilege, the only one of the three survivors of Pinerola. Saint-Mars, conveying to Barbézier the daily routine of his prisoners, wrote, in particular, about his “long-time prisoner” Doge; he did not face the problem of a servant; his life was described in frightening detail.
“The first of my lieutenants takes the keys to my old prisoner’s cell and, opening three doors, enters the prisoner’s cell, he hands over to him with due respect the dishes and plates, which he himself first places on top of each other, after passing through two doors, he gives them to my sergeant , and he, in turn, takes them to a table standing two steps away, where the second lieutenant, who checks everything that is brought in and taken out of the prison, looks to see if anything is written on the dishes; after he had been given everything he needed, his cell was searched under the bed and on the bed, then near the window bars and throughout the cell, after which he was asked if he needed anything else, after which the door was locked, and the same procedure was carried out with “all other prisoners.”
It is clear that with such a statement of affairs there is no place left for the servant. And anyway, could it have been with Doge, who himself used to be Fouquet’s servant? Obviously, Dubreuil, a petty spy despised by Louvois, also did not enjoy such a privilege.
If only Dauger, Dubreuil and Mattioli were on the island of St. Margaret at that time, it would be possible to say with confidence that the prisoner who died in April 1694 was an Italian - the only one of the three who was allowed to use the services of a footman.
But there were other prisoners on the island. Is it possible that one of them has a servant at his disposal? Unlikely. But the historian cannot be satisfied with probabilities. So, it is impossible to categorically say that Mattioli died in April 1694...
When Saint-Mars went to the Bastille in 1698, he was accompanied, as we remember, by his “old prisoner,” whom “no one should have seen!” We also remember that it was then that Saint-Mars came up with a delightful idea for a mask - an idea with such an enviable future.
After which the Masked Man, entering the Bastille, went down in history. Who? Mattioli, Doge or Dubreuil?
Dubreuil is nothing more than a petty spy. Having arrested him, Louvois did not deign to deal with him anymore, nor did Barbezier. The ministers constantly asked Saint-Mars about Fouquet, Lauzun, Mattioli or Doge. Dubreuil's name never appeared in their letters. Only once, after Lieutenant Villebois complained about his behavior, Louvois answered him with the following, rather cheeky lines:
“I received your letter dated the 10th of this month, from which I learned what this Dubreuil is worth to you. If he continues to rage, treat him like a madman, in other words, shake him properly, and you will see that this will restore him to common sense.
It seems that even with all the impartiality of the approach, Dubreuil’s candidacy cannot be claimed as suitable. Doge and Mattioli remain. Mattioli's candidacy has ardent and zealous supporters. The most eloquent of them is Franz Funk-Brentano. What are the arguments of the “Matthiolists”?
First of all, they take into account that their “challenger” was a figure of quite significant magnitude. While Dauger was merely a "lackey" and Dubreuil a "petty spy", Mattioli's imprisonment was "an act which, in the interests of state, had to be kept secret".
Then, Mattioli's supporters recall a detail from Barbezier's letter regarding the transfer in 1694 of the last Pinerol prisoners to the island of St. Margaret: "These are more important prisoners, at least some of them, than those already on the island." This “more important” prisoner could only be Mattioli.
In addition, it was after Mattioli’s arrival on the island of St. Margaret that the wording appears in the correspondence: “my long-time prisoner,” “your given prisoner.” According to the “Mattiolists”, these formulations allow us to assert that they are talking about a prisoner who was once held by Saint-Mars in Pinerola and was subsequently again transferred under his vigilant control - Mattioli.
When the Masked Man died, the deceased was recorded under the name Marziali or Marscioli. Here you can see a hint of the somewhat distorted name Mattioli.
Finally, Madame Campan, Marie Antoinette's maid, reported that Louis XIV told the queen in the presence of Madame Campan that the Masked Man was “simply a prisoner of a disconcerting character for his tendency to intrigue; subject of the Duke of Mantua." It is also known from intercepted correspondence that Louis XIV told Madame Pompadour the same thing; the king, under the onslaught of endless questions, replied that “it was one of the ministers of the Italian prince.”
These are the arguments of the “Mattiolists”. At first glance, they seem quite reasonable. But if you study them objectively, you will be surprised how so many people could accept such unconvincing evidence on faith.
In order to reject Mattioli’s candidacy, it would be enough just that Mattioli’s story at one time was not a secret to anyone.
Betrayal, arrest, imprisonment - Dutch newspapers spread this story throughout Europe. Moreover, the enemies of France - the Spaniards and the Savoyards - published a story about his activities and arrest in order to sway public opinion in favor of Mattioli.
However, Mr. de Poppon, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, after the arrest of the Italian, wrote to Abbot d'Estrada: “It is necessary that no one finds out what happened to this man.” From this phrase, the “Mattiolists” made far-reaching conclusions. But we note that this wording does not contain anything exceptional. Jung, looking through Louvois's correspondence, discovered that similar expressions were used in relation to other state prisoners quite often: “... make sure that no one knows what happened to him...”, “no one knows about this man should know" and the like.
When Barbézier took his father's place in 1691, the first thing he did was inquire about a prisoner who had been kept under the guard of Saint-Mars "for more than twenty years."
It could not have been Mattioli, for he was imprisoned in 1679, i.e. twelve years earlier. The difference is too great to be considered an oversight by Barbezier.
After 1693, the name Mattioli disappeared from correspondence. Ten years later he was again mentioned in correspondence under his own name, and this is proof that his name was no longer kept secret. It is not clear why it was necessary to call him a “long-time prisoner” in some cases. It seems likely that Mattioli died in April 1694. The fact that he had a servant confirms this assumption.
The name Marziali, indicated in the death certificate, can hardly serve as an argument in favor of Mattioli; rather, on the contrary, this fact confirms the opposite assumption. Why keep the identity of a prisoner secret for so long and so carefully in order to reveal his name to the curate for entering in the death register? There was a rule to bury important state prisoners under false names. Saint-Mars named the prisoner Marziali precisely because he was not Mattioli. It is likely that the name of his former prisoner who died on the island of St. Margaret came to his mind.
Let's return to our “arithmetic reasoning”. We have excluded five from the number: La Riviera, who died in 1687 at Exile; Jacobin monk who died in Pinerola in 1694; Mattioli, in all likelihood, died on the island of St. Margaret in the same 1694; Dubreuil, a spy, an insignificant figure, whom Saint-Mars no doubt left at Pierre-en-Cize, in Lyon, in 1697.
The conclusion suggests itself: the Iron Mask was Estache Doge.
Everything fits together. Extraordinary precautions, exceptional measures taken by order of Louvois during the arrest of a prisoner. The intensification of these measures coincided with the news that Dauger had learned some of Fouquet's secrets, as well as the fact that Dauger never left Saint-Mars. Louvois was so busy with Doge that it seemed necessary to him that a prisoner of such importance and La Rivière, who was following his fate willy-nilly, should be transferred to Saint-Mars' new destination - to Exile.
Mattioli could have stayed in Pinerola.
Before leaving for Exile, Louvois asked Saint-Mars to give a detailed account of his prisoners, indicating "what you know regarding the reasons for their detention." But this order did not apply to two prisoners from the “lower tower” - Doge and La Riviera. Their case was so well known to Louvois that he did not need any information: “As for the two from the lower tower, you write only their names, without adding anything else.”
Let us also recall that Louvois expressed himself quite clearly: only Lauzun and La Rivière, as he wrote to Saint-Mars, were “sufficiently significant figures not to transfer them into other hands.”
The measures taken during the transport to Exile and on the way from Exile to the island of St. Margaret for Doge are a logical continuation of those taken in Pinerol. Thus, it was forbidden for everyone except Saint-Mars to talk to the prisoners, and therefore Doge was mistaken for a marshal or “the one above”, and the governor was forced to invent “fables” regarding Doge. In Exile, Saint-Mars was careful not to change anything. Even his lieutenant did not have the right to speak with the prisoner, “which was carried out strictly.”
The chair covered with dark matter on the journey from Exile to St. Margaret's Island was intended to prevent "anyone from seeing or speaking to him on the road."
When Barbézier first wrote to Saint-Mars, his letter concerned “a prisoner who has been under your supervision for more than twenty years.” Undoubtedly, it was about the Doge. It was the Doge that was the first thought of the new minister.
This easily explains the phrase “your old prisoner.” The old prisoner is exactly the man whom Saint-Mars guarded for more than twenty years.
The legend of the Man in the Mask could acquire new details only in connection with Doge. Let us also not forget the remarkable phrase of Saint-Mars, dated early 1688, when Dauger was the only one of the “five” who was on the island of St. Margaret, when there were still six years left before Mattioli moved to the island: “Throughout the whole province they say that my the prisoner is M. de Beaufort, the others consider him the son of the late Cromwell.”
Since we know that Dauger could not have been the prisoner who died in 1694 - he did not have a servant - there is no doubt that it was he who accompanied Saint-Mars to his new destination - the Bastille.
And once again Saint-Mars was given the same instructions as had always been done in relation to Doge - only Doge: “... in order to transport our old prisoner to the Bastille, you will take all measures to ensure that no one sees or recognizes him.”
When Dauger died in the Bastille in 1703, he had already been imprisoned for thirty-four years.
It is not known what crime Doge committed. Of course, it must have been serious in order to entail harsh treatment and painful isolation for so many years... This unknown crime made Dauger a significant person. It made him the Masked Man.
It must also be emphasized that Dauger's guilt increased during his imprisonment, when he accidentally became privy to the secrets of Fouquet. Let us also recall the confession of Chamillard, about whom Voltaire spoke: “He was a man who owned all the secrets of Fouquet.”
Mr. Mongredien established that during the transport of the prisoner to the Bastille, Lauzun, Madame Fouquet and her children were still alive. This may well explain the “need” that did not leave the minister alone, “despite the fact that a lot of time had passed, to hide the identity of Doge, whom Lozun considered to have long disappeared.”
Maurice Duvivier identifies Eustache Doget in his book with a certain Eustache d'Auger de Cavoye, a dubious personality. After participating in the famous Roissy brawl, he was involved in a case involving poisons. Since he played as a child with Louis XIV, the king did not bring him to justice and personally sentenced him to life imprisonment. The “drugs” that so amazed Saint-Mars, according to Duvivier, prove that he could poison Fouquet, perhaps at the instigation of Colbert. It was necessary that he take the secret of his new crime with him to the grave Hence the need to not let him out from under vigilant supervision until his death, hence the mask.
Duvivier's version is quite solid, but from a historian's point of view, it is just a version.
The reason for the imprisonment of the Man in the Iron Mask - even if it was Estache Doger - still remains a mystery. Was there another person hiding under this name? We don't know this. In any case, he was not the brother of Louis XIV. The Sun King would never have allowed a man of the same blood to be made Fouquet's lackey!
