The existence of this prisoner was known and excited curiosity.  On October 15, 1711, the Princess Palatine wrote about the case to the Electress Sophia of Hanover, “A man lived for long years in the Bastille, masked, and masked he died there.  Two musketeers were by his side to shoot him if ever he unmasked.  He ate and slept in his mask.  There must, doubtless, have been some good reason for this, as otherwise he was very well treated, well lodged, and had everything given to him that he wanted.  He took the Communion masked; was very devout, and read perpetually.”

On October 22, 1711, the Princess writes that the Mask was an English nobleman, mixed up in the plot of the Duke of Berwick against William III.—­Fenwick’s affair is meant.  He was imprisoned and masked that the Dutch usurper might never know what had become of him.[1]

[1] Op. cit. 98, note I.

The legend was now afloat in society.  The sub-commandant of the Bastille from 1749 to 1787, Chevalier, declared, obviously on the evidence of tradition, that all the Mask’s furniture and clothes were destroyed at his death, lest they might yield a clew to his identity.  Louis XV. is said to have told Madame de Pompadour that the Mask was “the minister of an Italian prince.”  Louis XVI. told Marie Antoinette (according to Madame de Campan) that the Mask was a Mantuan intriguer, the same person as Louis XV. indicated.  Perhaps he was, it is one of two possible alternatives.  Voltaire, in the first edition of his “Siecle de Louis XIV.,” merely spoke of a young, handsome, masked prisoner, treated with the highest respect by Louvois, the Minister of Louis XIV.  At last, in “Questions sur l’Encyclopedie” (second edition), Voltaire averred that the Mask was the son of Anne of Austria and Mazarin, an elder brother of Louis XIV.  Changes were rung on this note:  the Mask was the actual King, Louis XIV. was a bastard.  Others held that he was James, Duke of Monmouth—­or Moliere!  In 1770 Heiss identified him with Mattioli, the Mantuan intriguer, and especially after the appearance of the book by Roux Fazaillac, in 1801, that was the generally accepted opinion.

It may be true, in part.  Mattioli may have been the prisoner who died in the Bastille in November 1703, but the legend of the Mask’s prison life undeniably arose out of the adventure of our valet, Martin or Eustache Dauger.

II

THE VALET’S HISTORY

After reading the arguments of the advocates of Mattioli, I could not but perceive that, whatever captive died, masked, at the Bastille in 1703, the valet Dauger was the real source of most of the legends about the Man in the Iron Mask.  A study of M. Lair’s book “Nicholas Fouquet” (1890) confirmed this opinion.  I therefore pushed the inquiry into a source neglected by the French historians, namely, the correspondence of the English ambassadors,