The Chevalier de Taulès--How he was led to believe that Avedick
was the Man with the Iron Mask--A clear Proof furnished him of the
impossibility of his Theory--Taulès persists and accuses the Jesuit
Fathers of Forgery--Examination of Dujonca’s Journal--Its complete
Authenticity and the unaffected Sincerity of the Writer cannot be
doubted--New Proofs of this Authenticity and of Dujonca’s Exactitude.
“I have discovered the Man with the Iron Mask, and it is my duty to
render an account to Europe and to posterity of my discovery,” exclaims
the Chevalier de Taulès,[277] with a conviction which posterity does
not share, and a solemnity of manner so little justified by results,
that an extreme reserve is imposed on those who venture after him to
engage in a pursuit so fruitful in checks.
The intelligence of this discovery was at first received with a
confidence which was explained by the position of the individual
who claimed to have made it. Sprung from one of the oldest and most
respectable families of Bearn; admitted, in 1754, into the gendarmes
of the King’s Guard; starting, ten years afterwards, in the career of
diplomacy, which he pursued always with honour, sometimes with success;
sent successively to Switzerland, Poland, and later to Syria, as
consul-general; corresponding on terms of friendship with Voltaire,
who showed some deference for his opinions;[278] M. de Taulès enjoyed
among his contemporaries an authority due as much to the qualities
of his mind as to his honourable character. He had lived through the
first Empire without desiring to re-enter the service of the State, and
had devoted to historical studies the leisure which his independent
spirit had created. It was the perusal of an unpublished manuscript
memorandum of the Marquis de Bonnac, ambassador at Constantinople,
that revealed to Taulès the existence of the Grand Patriarch, Avedick,
and his abduction by Ferriol. The writer of this memorandum added
that Avedick had been afterwards sent to the Isles Sainte-Marguerite,
and then transferred to the Bastille, where he had died. “On reading
this passage,” says Taulès, “the thought suddenly struck me that this
individual might very well be the Iron Mask. Becoming subsequently
more and more confirmed in this conjecture by a number of facts which
the perusal of the memorandum had confusedly recalled to me, I said to
myself, with fresh assurance, ‘Yes, it is himself: this is the Iron
Mask!’”[279]
In truth, this very natural thought must arise in the mind of every one
who reads this memorandum; and if Taulès believed that he at length
possessed the solution of the problem, there were many others who
would have felt equally self-persuaded. His only fault--but it was a
great one--was that of obstinately holding to this opinion when a more
complete study of the question would have shown him his error; and of
endeavouring to support his theory when it was being shattered, by an
accusation of forgery as grave as it was unjust.
Assuredly, the interest which Louis XIV. had in hiding the existence
of such a prisoner as Avedick, the indispensability there was of
shrouding from every eye the victim of so enormous a crime against the
law of nations, the necessity, too, of removing from the ex-Patriarch
every means of informing the Ottoman Porte of the country where he was
detained, the clamour which his disappearance had caused throughout
the entire East, the precarious situation in which the King of France
then found himself, constrained as he was to treat Turkey with
consideration, were all so many arguments that crowded upon the mind
in favour of Taulès’ opinion. This theory presented, moreover, the
advantage of explaining several circumstances, true or supposed, in
the life of Saint-Mars’ mysterious prisoner. For instance, the silence
almost constantly observed by him, which caused it to be continually
said that he was condemned to it under pain of death, was accounted
for by the Armenian Patriarch’s ignorance of our language. Again, that
strange accent noticed by the surgeon Nélaton, in a visit made by
him to the Bastille,[280] and which struck him in the few syllables
articulated by the prisoner, finds its natural explanation in Avedick.
The famous reply of Louis XV. to his valet-de-chambre, Laborde, who
questioned him about the Man with the Iron Mask, “The imprisonment of
this unfortunate individual has wronged nobody but himself,” applied
sufficiently exactly to the Patriarch. Lastly, in default of those
official despatches, which, to-day, a sovereign and indispensable
proof, alone allow one to erect a theory upon a firm basis, the
suggestion of Taulès united in its favour several strong presumptions,
and did not at the outset meet with any fundamental objection.
But the originator was not to experience for long an unmixed joy. His
conviction was most firmly rooted. “Perhaps nothing,” he says, “has
ever appeared to me so very plainly. _I do not more clearly feel my
existence than I recognize the Patriarch in all the features of the
Iron Mask._”[281] All at once, the Minister of Foreign Affairs,[282]
who had ordered researches to be made among his archives, caused the
Chevalier de Taulès to be informed that an important Armenian personage
had really been abducted from Constantinople and taken to France, but
that as indisputable despatches established the fact that he was still
in Turkey during the early part of 1706, he could not be the prisoner
brought by Saint-Mars from the Isles Sainte-Marguerite to the Bastille
on September 18, 1698, and who died in that fortress on November 19,
1703. Taulès at first accepted with resignation this truly startling
revelation. His theory was completely overthrown, his reasoning
destroyed, his discovery annihilated. He acknowledged it. He regretted
not having sooner recalled that maxim which he had often heard repeated
by D’Alembert himself, “In this world one must neither deny nor affirm
anything.” He avowed his mistake, and the man of sense gracefully
repaired the very excusable error committed by the historian. But
his theory had become so profoundly and tenaciously impressed upon
his brain, that he could not entirely rid himself of it. A germ
remained which developed by degrees, and in a fashion which of itself
deserves attention, independently of the interest which is inspired by
everything that relates to the Man with the Iron Mask.
“Is it possible,” Taulès asks himself, “that a proof so powerful
can yet leave me any resources? To argue in the train of a _fact so
destructive to my opinion_, and the truth of which I am obliged to
admit, would it not be endeavouring in a deliberate manner to push
prejudice to its utmost length?”[283] We see that at first Taulès did
not contest the accuracy of the two dates, and the impossibility of
reconciling them with his theory; but by degrees he modifies the terms
of the problem to be resolved. He no longer makes it his business to
discover who was the Man with the Iron Mask, but to prove, in spite of
a capital objection, that the Man with the Iron Mask was Avedick. This
fact is worthy of remark, and the chain of Taulès’ successive ideas is
here very significant. He does not commence by seeking if a forgery
has been committed by the Jesuits, in order to establish afterwards
that Avedick is the Man with the Iron Mask. No. It is the necessity
in which he believes himself placed, of establishing this identity,
that first gives him the idea of a forgery, then we have his inquiry,
and then the certainty that this forgery has been committed. “However
bold my observation may appear, I shall dare to make it, _I feel hope
revive in my soul_, and in spite of all I have just avowed against
myself, I do not renounce my discovery.... If I am deceiving myself, I
shall deserve to be doubly confounded. But if, as everything assures
me I shall do, I come victorious out of this struggle, confusion
will altogether be the portion of those who have wished to deprive
me of the honour of this discovery.”[284] From this time all Taulès’
efforts tended to destroy the positive information till then accepted
by him. Not being able to deny the authenticity of the despatches of
the Ministry of Foreign Affairs establishing that Avedick was still at
Constantinople in 1706, and this obstacle being insurmountable, Taulès
directed his attention towards Dujonca’s journal. Father Griffet was
the first who quoted[285] the two pages of this journal relating to the
mysterious prisoner and bearing the dates of September 19, 1698, the
day of his arrival at the Bastille, and of November 18, 1703, the day
of his death. But Father Griffet was a Jesuit. On this score, and in
the interest, in his eyes superior to all other, of the order to which
he belonged, might he not have been able to alter, to falsify this
document, in such a manner that it might be opposed to those who should
one day, perhaps, arise to accuse the Jesuits of the abduction of
Avedick, and perhaps see in this individual the Man with the Iron Mask?
This suspicion had scarcely entered the mind of Taulès before it took
possession of it and ruled it, when everything immediately became for
him an irresistible argument for, and formal proof of a falsification.
This journal is divided into two parts, each forming a volume. The
first has for title: “List of prisoners who are sent by the King’s
order to the Bastille, to commence from Wednesday the eleventh of the
month of October, when I am entered into the office of Lieutenant of
the King, in the year 1690,” and at the back of folio 37 we have word
for word what follows:--
“On thursday 18th September 1698, at 3 o’clock of the afternoon,
Monsieur de St.-Mars governor of the château of the bastille has
arrived to enter upon his functions coming from his government of the
isles St.-Marguerite honorat having brought with him in his litter an
old prisoner whom he had at pignerol whom he always kept masked [and]
whose name was not mentioned and having had him placed on leaving the
litter in the first chamber of the tower of the bassinnière until the
night in order to place him and conduct him myself at 9 o’clock of the
evening with M. de rosarges one of the sergeants whom monsieur the
governor had brought into the third chamber south of the tower of the
Bretaudière[286] which I had had furnished with everything some days
before his arrival having received Monsieur de St.-Mars’ order for it
which prisoner will be subject to and served by Mr. de rosarge and
provisioned by monsieur the Governor.”
The second part, of which the title is, “List of prisoners who left the
Bastille, to commence from the eleventh of the month of October, when I
am entered into possession in the year 1690,” contains, at the back of
folio 80, what follows:--
“On the same day monday 19th november 1703----the unknown prisoner
always masked with a mask of black velvet whom Monsieur de St.-Mars
governor had brought with him on coming from the isles St.-Marguerite
whom he had guarded since a long time [and] who having found himself
yesterday rather ill on leaving mass died to-day at ten o’clock at
night without having had any great illness he could not have had less.
M. Giraut our chaplain confessed him yesterday [but] surprised by his
death he has not received the sacraments and our chaplain exhorted him
a moment before dying and this unknown prisoner so long detained was
interred on tuesday 20th november at four o’clock of the afternoon in
the cemetery of St-Paul our parish on the register of deaths [**symbol]
was also given a name unknown to monsieur de rosarges major and Mr.
Reil surgeon who have signed the register.
“[**symbol] I have since learnt that he was named on the register M. de
Marchiel [and] that 40 l. were paid for his burial.”[287]
For every unprejudiced and impartial reader, these unaffected pages
are conclusive, and do not inspire any doubt. But it is not the same
for Taulès. According to him, Father Griffet himself, and not Dujonca,
is the author of this document, in which, with infinite art, he has
introduced several points of obscurity, and succeeded in misleading
for ever all those who should be tempted to raise the veil. He has
commenced by imagining the two dates of 1698 and 1703, so that it would
be impossible to apply them to Avedick, who was still at Constantinople
in 1706. It is designedly that, with an infinity of precautions, he has
drawn attention to this fact which he had invented at will: “Saint-Mars
had this prisoner at Pignerol,” a point on which he insists by saying
further on: “This prisoner whom he had guarded since a long time.” To
make Dujonca twice affirm that the Man with the Iron Mask was first
detained at Pignerol of course absolutely sets Avedick aside. The
affectation of speaking several times of the Abbé Giraut, chaplain of
the Bastille, is equally significant to Taulès, in so much that it
reveals the cunning intention of carefully avoiding having to name
the Jesuits, even when it concerns the Bastille, to which one of them
was constantly attached. It is true that the registers of the Church
of Saint-Paul confirm Dujonca’s journal, since the interment of the
prisoner is related in them under the date of November 20, 1703.[288]
But this objection does not embarrass Taulès. Without going so far as
to suppose that these registers have also been falsified, he is very
willing to accept them as authentic. “But,” says he, “this prisoner
interred November 20, 1703, is not the one brought by Saint-Mars to
the Bastille. It is some obscure stranger, and Father Griffet finding
on the registers of this church the proof of his death in 1703, has
used it as a basis on which to erect his falsehoods, and by attracting
to him the exclusive attention of posterity, has turned it aside
from Avedick, and has necessarily rendered ulterior investigations
fruitless.”
But it is nothing of the kind. In this painful episode of Louis XIV.’s
reign, the Jesuits have their share of responsibility, owing to the
pressure which they put upon Ferriol, but they are completely innocent
of the forgeries of which they have been accused.
The perfect authenticity of Dujonca’s journal is shown by many proofs.
It suffices to have read it and assured oneself that it is not composed
of detached leaves afterwards bound together, but has been written all
entire by the same incorrect and simple pen, in order to be convinced
of the impossibility of the least alteration. Either it is a forgery
from beginning to end, or the pages relating to the Iron Mask have
for their author that kind of general superintendent of the Bastille,
sometimes too pompously styled Lieutenant of the King, sometimes
fulfilling the humble functions of turnkey, devoted to his multifarious
duties,[289] who ought to be believed for his ignorance of certain
things as much as for his complete knowledge of others, for the
unfeigned simplicity of his language, and the tone of sincere assurance
that runs uniformly throughout the entire journal. Moreover, not only
is all that concerns the other prisoners corroborated by indisputable
despatches deposited in other archives,[290] but the most reliable
documents absolutely confirm the dates, and even some of the points
indicated in the two accounts we have just quoted. Dujonca says in
the first: “I had had his chamber furnished with everything some days
before his arrival, _having received M. de Saint-Mars’ order for it_.”
Now a despatch as yet unpublished and of especial importance contains
what follows: “Barbézieux to Saint-Mars.--Marly, July 19, 1698--I have
received the letter which you have taken the trouble to write to me the
9th of this month. The King finds it good that you should leave the
Isles Sainte-Marguerite to go to the Bastille with your old prisoner,
taking your precautions to prevent his being either seen or known by
any one. _You can write in advance to His Majesty’s Lieutenant of this
château to have a chamber ready so as to be able to place your prisoner
in it on your arrival._”
This despatch cannot be questioned. It exists in the archives of the
Ministry of War. It was written by the Minister, Barbézieux, a short
time previous to Saint-Mars’ departure for the Bastille, and like many
others which we shall quote hereafter, it establishes in a formal
manner that in 1698, and not later, the Man with the Iron Mask entered
the Bastille, and that no alteration has consequently been made in
Dujonca’s journal.
But to these definitive proofs let us add others drawn from Avedick’s
very singular end. Let us return to this individual at the moment when
he treads the French soil for the first time, and let us follow him
to his death, less in order to complete our demonstration that he is
not the Man with the Iron Mask--which would be superfluous--than to
throw every light upon this little-known individual, and pursue to its
_dénoûment_ the story of this extraordinary crime.
FOOTNOTES:
[277] _L’Homme au Masque de Fer: Mémoire Historique par le Chevalier de
Taulès, ancien consul-général en Syrie_, p. 1.
[278] From 1752 to 1768, Taulès and Voltaire had a long and interesting
correspondence, published by Gaultier-Laguionie (Paris, 1825), at the
end of various memoirs of Taulès.
[279] _L’Homme au Masque de Fer: Mémoire Historique_, p. 21.
[280] This has already been referred to in Chapter VIII. of this work.
See page 93 _ante_.
[281] _L’Homme au Masque de Fer_, p. 61.
[282] M. de Vergennes.
[283] _L’Homme au Masque de Fer_, p. 62.
[284] _L’Homme au Masque de Fer_, p. 63.
[285] In his _Traité des Differentes Sortes de Preuves qui servent à
établir la Vérité dans l’Histoire_.
[286] This and the tower mentioned just above are supposed to have been
named after their builders.--_Trans._
[287] Archives of the Library of the Arsenal, Manuscript Journal of
Dujonca.
[288] Archives of the Hôtel de Ville, _Registres des Baptêmes, Mariages
et Sépultures de la Paroisse de Saint-Paul_: Saint-Paul 5, 1703-1705,
vol. ii No. 166.
[289] I have found among the Archives of the Arsenal another document
also emanating from the pen of Dujonca, whose journal up to the present
time was alone known. These are notes in which he enumerates the heavy
occupations that weighed him down. This document throws a certain light
upon the interior arrangements of the Bastille. It is the same large
writing as that of the Journal, with the same faults of language, the
same simple-mindedness. It is too long to be quoted here. I merely
extract the statement of everything that Dujonca had to do.
“For more than a year since I have entered the Bastille I have been
obliged to perform the service which follows:--
“To rise every morning the first and to go to bed the last--To place
the guard very often instead of the officers of Monsieur de Besemaux;
to make the round and the visit every evening in the uncertainty as to
whether these gentlemen will do it; to close the doors very often, not
being able to rely upon any one--To take every care of the guard of
the château, being unable either to trust or rely upon the governor’s
two officers, who do only what pleases them, and render account of
what passes only to Monsieur de Besemaux--When Monsieur de la Venice
or other commissaries come to interrogate prisoners, it is necessary
to go and take them from their chamber and to lead them into Monsieur
de Besemaux’s room, traversing all the courts, and it is necessary to
wait outside the door very often for eight hours at a time, in order to
retake possession of the prisoner, and conduct him back to the place
whence he had been taken--The prisoners to whom it is permitted to
see visitors it is also necessary to go and take from their chambers,
to lead them through all the courts into the common room, where the
relations or friends await them, and it is very often necessary to
remain with them quite as long as they wish, being obliged to keep them
in sight, and afterwards to take them back again--It is necessary to
have the same care and application for certain people of the reformed
religion, who are seen and talked to by Father Bordes, M. Latour Dalier
and Madame Chardon, in order to convert them--To follow and guard the
prisoners who have permission to go and walk in the garden and on the
terrace from time to time. All the sick prisoners it is necessary to
go and visit often, and to take care of them--Those who have need of
the doctor and apothecary, it is necessary to conduct where the sick
go; and in order to be more assured of what passes and of the remedies
which they are ordered to take, it is necessary to be present when they
are brought to them--For the prisoner who is very ill and in danger
of death, it is necessary to redouble all these cares in order to
make him confess and receive all the sacraments, and when he is dead
it is necessary to fulfil all the duties of a good Christian--On the
arrival of a prisoner who is to be confined it is necessary to commence
by examining and searching him all over, as well as the whole of his
clothing, and to conduct him to the chamber assigned to him. Moreover,
it is necessary to take care to have given and brought to him all that
is essential for the furnishing of his chamber, paying very dearly
for it to Monsieur de Besemaux’s upholsterer, or else the _maîtresse
d’autel_--It is necessary, also, to search all the confined prisoners
who obtain their entire liberty, and to examine their clothes before
they leave in consequence of the great communication which exists
between the prisoners. It is necessary also to take the same care in
searching the prisoners who are confined in order to place them in the
liberty of the court, which happens sufficiently often--To visit all
the chambers and to search everywhere, even all the prisoners and their
clothing--It is also necessary to examine everything which comes from
without for the prisoners confined here, and their clothing that goes
out, in order to be mended or washed--Amongst the number of prisoners
there are some who daily find themselves in necessity or need of
something, or else of some complaint of their food, or of the bad usage
of the turnkeys who attend upon them, which prisoners in their distress
are compelled to beat their doors so as to give notice of their wants;
these are occasions which often happen and cause a great noise, so that
it is necessary to go and make frequent visits--It is necessary to pay
attention to the food given the prisoners, being very often bad, with
bad wine and dirty table-linen--To frequently examine all the plate
usually used for the prisoners confined here, _who very often write
on the dishes and plates in order to give news of themselves to one
another_--To keep guard over and carefully observe all the persons who
enter the Bastille, especially the women and girls who come to see
the prisoners who are in the liberty of the court--On the principal
festivals of the year it is necessary to take every care to make those
prisoners who are allowed by orders to do so, confess, hear mass, and
communicate--To go several times during the day and the evening on to
the platforms outside the château, in order to prevent the prisoners
in one tower talking to those in another, and to send soldiers in
the neighbourhood of the Bastille in order to arrest the persons who
make signs to the prisoners whom they know, and very often these are
prisoners who have received their liberty wishing to render service to
those who remain, there being communication everywhere, and the cause
of all these disorders.”
[290] A single example will suffice. The person confined in the
Bastille a few days before the Iron Mask is, according to Dujonca,
the famous Madame Guyon, and a letter from Count de Pontchartrain to
Saint-Mars, of November 3, 1698, says: “As for Madame Guyon, it is not
necessary to do anything with reference to her except by the advice
of the Archbishop:”--Imperial Archives, Registers of the Secretary’s
office of the King’s Household.