Behaviour of Charles IV., Duke of Mantua, towards his ex-Minister--His
true Sentiments with reference to him--Precautions prescribed to
Villebois and Laprade for the Prisoners left by Saint-Mars at
Pignerol.--Change in Louis XIV.’s Position in Italy--Transfer of the
Pignerol Prisoners to the Isles Sainte-Marguerite--Instructions given
to Marshal de Tessé--Increase of Saint-Mars’ Watchfulness--Mystery
surrounding the three Prisoners--Great Importance of one of them
compared with the others--It is he who was the Man with the Iron Mask.
Matthioly was left by Saint-Mars at Pignerol, and the long silence
concerning him preserved by Louvois and Saint-Mars from the time of
the latter’s departure for Exiles, receives in that manner its natural
explanation. When I had assured myself of this, I sought in the
Archives of the Ministry of War for all the despatches addressed either
by Louis XIV. or by the Minister to the Sieur de Villebois, Governor of
the donjon, or to the Sieur Laprade, who, after the latter’s death, in
April 1692, replaced him in these duties. Now, I have not only found in
these despatches the confirmation of Matthioly’s presence at Pignerol,
but also fresh proofs of the very strict precautions of which the
prisoners left in this citadel continued to be the objects.
It has often been asked how it was that the Duke of Mantua should
have remained indifferent to the fate of his old favourite, and not
have inquired concerning him of Louis XIV., whom he ought to have
known was alone in a position to furnish him with information. As the
despatches from the Court of Mantua, published either by Delort or by
others, do not mention Matthioly’s name after the date of his arrest,
people have explained this silence by the frivolous indifference of the
young duke, and it must be admitted that the character of this prince
rendered such an explanation very probable. Moreover, this silence has
very much contributed to diminish the importance of Count Matthioly,
and we have been told many times that there could have been nothing
very considerable in the position of a person who suddenly disappeared
without his master even thinking of inquiring what had become of him.
But this is an error. However light and careless Charles IV. may have
been, he did occupy himself with the fate of Matthioly; but far from
endeavouring to deliver him, he regarded his release as a danger.
Indeed, by breaking off the project of the cession of Casale by his
desertion, Matthioly had not only tricked Louis XIV., but had also
profoundly incensed the Duke of Mantua, whom he had thus surrendered
to the violent recriminations, and perhaps later, to the vengeance
of the other Italian princes. If Louis XIV. had not had him carried
off, Charles IV. would have charged himself with this care, and would
have brought about the disappearance of the inconvenient witness
of his intrigues with the Court of Versailles, the agent who had
negotiated the sale of one of the keys of Italy, the confidant whose
very existence was a reproach, whose words were an ever-threatened
accusation, and whose testimony was invaluable to the enemies of the
Duke of Mantua.
“M. de Mantua,” writes the Abbé d’Estrades to Pomponne, June 10, 1679,
“shows uneasiness as to what can have become of Matthioly, whose
conduct he blames.... I inform him concerning Matthioly that, _although
I do not know where he is_, and for the last two months have had no
news of him, I do not hesitate to assure him that he cannot interfere
at all in our negotiation, and that he will not even have the least
suspicion of it; that he may set his mind at rest concerning this, and
that I pledge him my word for it.”[593]
Two years afterwards the Abbé Morel, the French ambassador, when about
to proceed to Mantua, to Charles IV., with the view of renewing the
project of surrender, writes from Turin to Louis XIV.:--
“Turin, August 9, 1681.
“I have no doubt that on my return to Mantua, the Duke will question
me as to what will be done with Matioly after the execution of the
treaty. Perhaps it would be as well to give me a line of information
on this point.”[594]
And Louis XIV. himself replies in a manner to calm Charles IV.’s
uneasiness, but still without revealing the place of Matthioly’s
confinement:--
“Fontainebleau, August 21, 1681.
“I have already informed you that you may assure the Duke of Mantua
that Mathioly will not leave the place where he is without the
consent of that prince; and if there are any other measures to be
taken for his satisfaction, you will inform me of them. On this,
etc.”[595]
Can one have any doubt of the true sentiments of the Duke of Mantua
after reading the following despatch?--
“The Duke of Mantua has learnt with much joy and with sentiments of
lively gratitude, what it has pleased your Majesty to order me to
inform him concerning Matthioli. He had intended to thank me this
evening personally in an audience which he wished to accord me; but I
have found it impossible to attend, owing to a very painful rheumatism
in the neck, which has forced me to keep my bed during the last three
days.”[596]
This joy of Charles IV. on learning that he no longer had to dread the
sudden appearance of his accomplice is sadly significant. He could
again treat with Louis XIV. without fearing lest his too well-informed
ex-minister should proceed to impress upon the attention of the other
princes the conditions to which the Duke of Mantua had agreed, by
consenting to put himself under the complete control of the most
dangerous of Italy’s enemies. Everything thus combined to perpetuate
the confinement of the unfortunate Minister, and the interest of
Charles IV. as much as the pride of Louis XIV. required that he who had
deceived the one and humiliated the other should be removed from the
world for ever.
This was done; and we have seen with what a mystery and with what
an abundance of precautions and minute cares Villebois was charged
to guard him at Pignerol, after Saint-Mars’ departure for Exiles.
Villebois never once left his prisoner. On March 22, 1682,[597]
actuated by a scruple similar to those which had often possessed
Saint-Mars, Villebois asked the Minister, to whom he was to confide
the care of his prisoners if he should fall ill? Louvois replied, “To
the one in whom you have most confidence.” “The King approves,” wrote
the Minister, April 13, 1682, “of your lending the prisoners with
whose care you are charged the books of devotion which they ask of
you, taking all due precautions that these may not serve to give them
intelligence of any kind.”[598] “With reference to the priest whom the
prisoners ask for,” we read in a despatch of December 11, 1683, “I
have to tell you that they should only be allowed to confess once a
year.”[599] “I have received your letter of the 14th of last month,”
writes Louvois, May 1, 1684, “from which I perceive the rage of the
Sieur Matthioly’s servant (_valet_)[600] towards you, and the manner
in which you have punished him, which must certainly be approved of,
and you ought always to act in the same manner on a like occasion.”
On November 26, 1689, Louvois learns “that some one had come by night
to a door of the bastion of Pignerol, where the apartments of the
prisoners are situated, with the intention of getting in,” and he
orders Villebois “to omit nothing to endeavour to discover those who
have done so.”[601] On July 28, 1692, when the Sieur de Laprade is
about to assume the governorship, left vacant by Villebois’ death,
Barbézieux writes to him “that he cannot take too many precautions for
the security of the prisoners with whose care he is charged.” The same
instructions are addressed to him on October 31 following.[602] Despite
these incessant precautions, and the vigilance of which he was the
object, Matthioly still endeavoured to give tidings of himself, but it
was only on the linings of his pockets that he managed to write a few
words. He was discovered, and the Minister writes to Laprade, December
27, 1693, “You have merely to burn what remains of the little pieces
of the pockets on which Matthioly and his man have written, and which
you have found in the lining of their coats, where they had hidden
them.”[603]
This care in destroying everything that might reveal Matthioly’s
presence at Pignerol had at that time become especially necessary. It
was no longer, as in 1679, merely Louis XIV.’s pride which exacted that
the greatest mystery should surround his victim’s existence. Since
the date of the abduction, the face of things in Italy had changed.
The King of France could no longer hold forth there as a master; his
armies had ceased to be constantly victorious, and he was expiating his
impolitic and inopportune interference in the affairs of the peninsula.
That petty Duke of Savoy, whom we saw twelve years previously
submitting himself, with imprecations, to the yoke of his imperious
neighbour, had, in 1693, attained a position which enabled him to
exercise over the progress of events an influence much greater than
that due to the extent of his territories. This Prince had succeeded
in counterbalancing the weakness of his position by his duplicity in
changing his alliances, by his dissembling language, and by his happy
promptitude in making use of favourable circumstances. In his policy he
had always preferred sharp practices to honest acts, and he deceived
in turn and with equal perfidy both Louis XIV. and the enemies of the
King of France. The latter was anxious for peace, with the view of
directing all his efforts and all his attention towards the question
of the Spanish succession, just about to open; and peace depended
almost entirely upon Victor-Amadeus, who, at first so humble, and for
a long time so despised, was now taking his revenge. “We are proud,
and wish to make use of the necessity in which we know very well that
the King is placed, in order to make a general peace for ourselves,”
said the Marquis de Saint-Thomas,[604] Minister of Savoy, to Count de
Tessé. So it was no longer the restitution of the conquests made in
Piedmont, and the surrender of Caslae, that Victor-Amadeus demanded,
but the possession of Pignerol, that valuable acquisition of Richelieu,
a French town for the last sixty years, and whose surrender, which
Louis XIV. finished by resigning himself, was a just expiation for
his ambitious projects of aggrandisement. Possessing already one of
the keys of Italy, he had wished to acquire the other, so as to keep
under his control the Duke of Savoy, who would thus have been enclosed
between two formidable towns, and he was now compelled to cede him
Pignerol, and to withdraw his troops from Casale.
Matthioly, who had played the principal part in the early negotiations
relating to the latter place, suffered in the obscurity of his prison
the consequence of this sudden change in Italian affairs; since he
was one of the three State-prisoners whom the King of France caused
to be transferred from Pignerol to the Isles Sainte-Marguerite, March
19, 1694. Not that his name was then mentioned. After the despatch of
December 27, 1693, concerning what he had written on his coat-pockets,
he was no longer named. Indeed, it was more than ever necessary to hide
from every one this victim of an audacious and inexcusable offence
against international law. The discontent of Europe against Louis XIV.
being extremely strong, and the interests of his policy requiring him
to calm it at any price, it was then especially essential to cover with
impenetrable mystery an existence which recalled at once the menacing
ambition, the audacity, and also the defeat of a great king. So there
have, perhaps, never been so many minute precautions imposed for a
journey of this nature. At the same time that Laprade was receiving
the most circumstantial and precise instructions with reference to the
transfer, the Marquis d’Herleville, Governor of Pignerol, and the Count
de Tessé, commanding the French troops in that place, had orders “to
furnish escorts and advance all the money required for the expenses
of the journey.” Tessé was instructed not to inquire the names of the
prisoners, and to absolutely overcome every temptation to a dangerous
curiosity.[605] The following unpublished despatch is a proof of this:--
“Turin, March 27, 1694.
“I do not reply to you concerning that which you have done me the
honour to write me _with your own hand_, with reference to the
prisoners of the donjon, except that I shall conduct myself according
to your orders and instructions with the greatest secrecy, entire
circumspection, and every possible measure for the security of these
prisoners, without having the slightest temptation to the least petty
curiosity.”[606]
But, no matter how great the precautions taken may have been, no matter
how reserved from that date Barbézieux and Saint-Mars may have shown
themselves in their despatches, these still disclose something; and,
fine as may be the thread which will permit us to follow Matthioly to
his death, it is nevertheless visible.
The prisoners delivered over by Laprade to Saint-Mars were old
captives, whom the latter had already had in charge at Pignerol. This
is clear: 1st, from a despatch, dated January 11, 1694, in which the
Minister asks Saint-Mars the name of one of Laprade’s prisoners who
had just died;[607] 2nd, from the conclusion of the first despatch,
announcing to Saint-Mars the approaching arrival of the prisoners at
Pignerol: “I do not inform you of the number, persuaded that you know
it;”[608] 3rd, from that significant phrase which we have already
quoted from the second despatch relating to the transfer of these
prisoners: “You know that they are of more consequence, or at least
one of them, than those who are now at the Islands, and you ought to
place them by preference in the surest prisons.”[609] Now it is quite
certain, that at the time of his departure from Pignerol to Exiles,
Saint-Mars had no other considerable prisoner except Matthioly, Fouquet
being dead and Lauzun set at liberty. We may remark, too, that it is
in Villebois’ care that he leaves him, Villebois who, with Catinat,
had been charged with the mission of arresting Matthioly on the road
to Turin.[610] When Villebois dies, it is another of Saint-Mars’
confidential lieutenants--the Sieur de Laprade, who is sent from
the Islands to command in the donjon of Pignerol.[611] Consequently
Saint-Mars--and this is an essential point to establish,--did not cease
to be acquainted with Matthioly’s fate, and it is his own lieutenants
who have replaced him for a time in guarding this prisoner.
We have shown, in the preceding chapter,[612] the evident obscurity
of the insignificant prisoner brought by Saint-Mars from Exiles to
the Isles Sainte-Marguerite. His furniture and effects are only
worth thirteen crowns; his gaoler leaves him without scruple; he is
designated as “a crow.” A new prisoner, “of more consequence than the
others,” arrives at the Islands. From that moment Saint-Mars does not
quit them; but immediately imagines fresh measures for the safety of
his prisoners, which the Minister approves, July 20, 1694.[613]
It is about this period that we find, in the official despatches,
the name of the Sieur Favre, whom the most unquestionable tradition
represents as having been chaplain of the prison at the time that
the Man with the Iron Mask was confined there.[614] Barbézieux, who
previously had not been troubled with this anxiety, all at once
thinks of what would happen if Saint-Mars should fall ill, and, with
anxious solicitude, inquires[615] immediately what would be done if
this should occur.[616] On January 15, 1696, we find a new despatch
from Barbézieux, expressing, in the King’s name and his own, the
satisfaction experienced on learning the precautions adopted.[617]
On October 29, 1696, the Minister causes the locks of the donjon of
Pignerol to be sent to the Isles Sainte-Marguerite, in order to render
the confinement of the prisoners more secure.[618]
But there follows a despatch more significant still. Its existence was
first revealed, then contested, and historical criticism finished by no
longer believing in it, and by rejecting it altogether. Nevertheless it
exists, and I have reproduced it in Chapter V.[619] It concludes thus:
“Without explaining yourself to any one whatever about what your old
prisoner has done.”
These words: “Your old prisoner,” have grammatically but one
meaning--that is to say, the prisoner whom you formerly had in your
care, and who has been again confided to you. Besides, I may remark,
that if there should be any doubt about the meaning, this phrase cannot
possibly apply to the prisoner brought by Saint-Mars from Exiles,
since he arrived at the island in April, 1687. For, how can we imagine
that the inhabitants of Sainte-Marguerite would have waited ten years,
before concerning themselves with the causes of his confinement? This
curiosity of the inhabitants of the island, this astonishment, the
prime origin of the legend which became current in the district, is
very naturally explained by the arrival of the prisoners from Pignerol,
surrounded by a strong escort, guarded by Saint-Mars’ confidential men,
placed, one at least, in the most secure prison, and the importance
of whom was attested by the preparations, repairs, and purchases
executed at the time by Saint-Mars. There is nothing striking in the
treatment of the prisoner brought from Exiles, nothing which could
excite surprise, and, anyhow, there is the positive certainty that this
surprise would have been produced in any case during the early years of
his residence at the Isles Sainte-Marguerite.
Pignerol was restored to the Duke of Savoy a short time after the
arrival of the new prisoners at the islands. I have carefully
looked through all the despatches exchanged between Lamothe-Guérin,
Saint-Mars’ successor at the Islands, and the Court of Versailles,
during the ten years (1698 to 1708) which followed the latter’s
departure for the Bastille.[620] Not one of them contains the name of
Matthioly, or makes mention of an important prisoner, left behind by
Saint-Mars. Matthioly was still at Pignerol on December 27, 1693, a few
months previous to the transfer of the three prisoners to the Isles
Sainte-Marguerite. They were all old captives formerly in the care of
Saint-Mars. The latter, we have seen, was ignorant of the causes of
their detention, _save of Matthioly’s alone_. The logical conclusion
of our preceding remarks is, therefore, that these words: “Without
explaining yourself to any one whatever about _what your old prisoner
has done_,” are applicable to what the Government of Versailles termed
the treason of Matthioly. ] If this be admitted--and we trust that our
readers will have no doubt with reference to it--if it be admitted that
the despatch of November 17, 1697, is applicable to Matthioly, the only
prisoner, we must again repeat, whose crime Saint-Mars was acquainted
with, the identity of the Man with the Iron Mask is established.
On March 1, 1698, Barbézieux offers Saint-Mars the nomination to the
Governorship of the Bastille.[621] He accepts this offer, and, on June
17, 1698, the Minister replies:--
“Versailles, June 17, 1698.
“I have remained a long time without answering the letter which you
have taken the trouble to write me the 8th of last month, because the
King has not explained his intentions to me earlier. I shall now tell
you that his Majesty has seen with pleasure that you are determined
to come to the Bastille in order to be its governor. You can arrange
everything so as to be ready to leave when I shall write to you, and
bring your old prisoner with you in all safety.
“I have agreed with Mons. Saumery that he shall give you two thousand
crowns for your expenses in moving your furniture.”
The 19th July following, Barbézieux wrote again:--
“Marly, July 19, 1698.
“I have received the letter that you have taken the trouble to write
me the 9th of this month. The King approves of your leaving the Isles
Sainte-Marguerite to come to the Bastille with your old prisoner,
taking your precautions to prevent his being seen or known by any one.
You can write in advance to his Majesty’s Lieutenant of this château
to have a chamber ready to place this prisoner in on your arrival.”
We thus find, in the two despatches sent to Saint-Mars on the eve
of his departure for the Bastille, at that very important moment
when he is about to commence his journey across France, these same
characteristic words:--“Your old prisoner.” This is not all. What I
have termed the perfect agreement, the exact correspondence between the
prisoner who entered the Bastille, September 18, 1698, and Matthioly,
is rendered more complete and more exact still by the only document
concerning the Man with the Iron Mask, besides despatches, which has
as yet been admitted without controversy--viz., Dujonca’s Journal. If
we refer to Chapter XIII.[622] of the present work we shall perceive
that he too terms the prisoner who accompanied Saint-Mars “_his old
prisoner_ whom he had at Pignerol.” At the Bastille he was called
merely the “prisoner from Provence,”[623] because it was in Provence
that he was confided to Saint-Mars, and Dujonca is none the less exact
in terming him the old prisoner from Pignerol, since Matthioly had
been two years at Pignerol under the care of Saint-Mars. Of all the
captives of whom Saint-Mars was the gaoler, Matthioly is thus the
only one who reconciles the two apparently contradictory features of
the Man with the Iron Mask, whom an undoubted tradition represents as
having been brought to Saint-Mars at the Islands, and whom indisputable
documents show to have also been imprisoned at Pignerol. The general
error has been to represent the Iron Mask as going from Pignerol to
Exiles, the name of which was never mentioned by Dujonca, and not to
pay sufficient attention to this fact, viz., that tradition as well as
rare contemporary documents assign only three prisons, and not four, to
the mysterious captive: Pignerol, the Isles Sainte-Marguerite, and the
Bastille.
FOOTNOTES:
[593] Unpublished despatch:--Archives of the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs, section Savoy, 68.
[594] Unpublished despatch from the Abbé Morel to Louis XIV.:--Archives
of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, section Mantua, 15.
[595] Unpublished despatch from Louis XIV. to the Abbé Morel:--Archives
of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, section Mantua, 15.
[596] Unpublished despatch from the Abbé Morel to Louis XIV.:--_Ibid._
[597] Unpublished despatch from Louvois to Villebois, March 30,
1682:--Archives of the Ministry of War.
[598] _Ibid._, April 13, 1682.
[599] _Ibid._, December 11, 1685.
[600] Here followed “de chambre,” but these two words have been erased.
[601] Unpublished despatches from Louvois to Villebois of May 1, 1684,
and November 26, 1689.
[602] Unpublished despatch from Barbézieux to Laprade, July 28 1692.
[603] _Ibid._, December 27, 1693.
[604] Letter from Tessé to Barbézieux, December 1693:--Archives of the
Ministry of War, 1271. Given by M. Rousset, vol. iv. p. 531.
[605] Unpublished despatches from Barbézieux to Laprade, March 20,
1694, and from Louis XIV. to the Marquis d’Herleville, March 19, 1694.
[606] Unpublished despatch from Marshal de Tessé to Barbézieux, March
27, 1694:--Archives of the Ministry of War.
[607] January 11, 1694, Barbézieux writes to Saint-Mars: “The Sieur de
Laprade, to whom the King has confided the care of the prisoners who
are confined by his Majesty’s orders in the donjon of Pignerol, writes
me word that the one who has been imprisoned longest is dead, and that
he does not know his name. As I have no doubt but that you remember
it, I beg you to inform me of it in cipher.” The oldest prisoner was
Eustache d’Auger, who was confined, as we have seen, in 1669. Anyhow it
could not be Matthioly, since we have given a few pages back a despatch
from Laprade, December 27, 1693, in which he mentions his name in
reference to what he had written on the lining of his coat. Now Laprade
would never have asked in January, 1694, the name of a prisoner whom he
knew in December, 1693.
[608] Unpublished despatch from Barbézieux to Saint-Mars, February 20,
1694.
[609] _Ibid._, March 20, 1694.
[610] Despatch from Catinat to Louvois, May 3, 1679:--Given by Delort,
p. 212.
[611] Unpublished despatch from Barbézieux to Saint-Mars, May 5,
1692:--Archives of the Ministry of War.
[612] Pp. 322-331, _ante_.
[613] Unpublished despatch from Barbézieux to Saint-Mars, July 20, 1694.
[614] _Ibid._, December 5, 1694.
[615] _Ibid._, December 20, 1694.
[616] A despatch overlooked by M. Topin when writing this work, but
subsequently published by him, and in which Saint-Mars describes the
minute precautions he adopts in order to ensure the safe custody of
his prisoners and prevent them from communicating with any one, is
sufficiently curious to be given at full length:--
“Monseigneur,--
“You command me to inform you how people would act when I am absent or
ill, with reference to the precautions which are taken and the visits
which are paid every day to the prisoners who are committed to my care.
“My two lieutenants give them to eat at fixed hours, as they have
seen me do, and as I still do very often when I am well; and this is
how, Monseigneur. The senior of my lieutenants takes the keys of the
prison of my _old prisoner_, with whom they commence, opens the three
doors and enters the chamber of the prisoner, who politely hands him
the dishes and plates which he has placed on the top of one another in
order to give them to the lieutenant, who only goes out through two of
the doors to hand them to one of my sergeants, who receives them and
carries them to a table two paces off, where is my second lieutenant,
who examines everything that enters or leaves the prison, so that
he may see that there is nothing written on the plate; and after
everything necessary has been given him [the prisoner], a search is
made in and under his bed and among the window-bars of his chamber, as
well as in the whole of the chamber, and very often on himself; after
having very civilly asked him if he has need of anything, they shut
the doors and go to do the same for the other prisoners.
“Twice a week their table-linen is changed, as well as their shirts
and the linen of which they make use, which is given to them and taken
away again after having been counted and after everything has been
well searched.
“One can be very much cheated about the linen when it leaves and
enters for the service of prisoners who are people of consideration,
as I have had some who have wished to bribe the laundresses, who have
acknowledged to me, which they had little difficulty in doing, what
had been said to them, on account of which I used to have all their
linen steeped in water on leaving their chambers, and when it was
clean and half dry, the laundresses came to iron and smooth it in my
apartments in the presence of one of my lieutenants, who locked up
the baskets in a chest until they were handed over to the servants of
messieurs the prisoners. There is much to be distrusted in candles; I
have found some which on being broken or used contained paper instead
of wicks. I used to send to buy some at Turin at shops not tampered
with. It is also very dangerous for ribbon to leave a prisoner’s
apartment, as he writes on it as on linen without any one being aware
of it.
“The late Monsieur Fouquet made fine and good paper on which I
allowed him to write, and afterwards I went and took it from a little
pocket which he had made in the seat of his breeches, which I sent to
Monseigneur your late father.”
[The commencement of the second leaf has been torn; the following only
remains:--]
“As a last precaution, the prisoners are searched from time to time,
both day and night, at hours which are not fixed, when it is often
found that they have written on dirty linen that which they alone are
able to read, as you will have seen from that which I have had the
honour to forward you. If it is necessary, Monseigneur, that I should
do anything else in order to more completely fulfil my duty, I shall
glory all my life in obeying you with the same respect and submission
as I am,
“Monseigneur,
“Your very humble, very obedient, and very obliged servant,
“DE SAINT-MARS.
“At the Islands, this January 6, 1696.”
The above despatch, as well as the one given on p. 324, note
17, _ante_, is to be found in draft in the collection of M.
Mauge-du-Bois-des-Entes. They have both been given by Monmerqué and
Champollion-Figeac.--_Trans._
[617] Unpublished despatch from Barbézieux to Saint-Mars.
[618] _Ibid._, October 29, 1696.
[619] See p. 61, _ante_.
[620] I have read one by one all the despatches addressed during the
years 1698-1708 by the Ministers Chamillart and Voysin (successors of
Barbézieux at the Ministry of War) to Lamothe-Guérin, and nothing in
them applies to Matthioly.
Barbézieux, incensed at the elevation of his rival Chamillart,
gave himself up to dissipation in order to drown his annoyance. He
retired to his château of L’Etang at the boundary of the park of
Saint-Cloud, where he feasted and rioted with his friends, and was
seized with a fever consequent upon his excesses, of which he died
a few days afterwards at the age of thirty-three. See _Mémoires de
Saint-Simon_.--_Trans._
[621] Unpublished despatch from Barbézieux to Saint-Mars. I reproduce
it word for word:--
“At Versailles, the first of March, 1698.
“I commence by offering you my condolence on the death of your
brother-in-law, for which you will not doubt I am very sorry, both on
account of his services and of my friendship for him.
“I also write to you concerning the proposal to exchange your
governorship of the Isles Sainte-Marguerite against that of the
Bastille. The reply which you have made to him has been handed to me
since his death. The revenue of this governorship consists of 15,168
livres on the estates of the King, besides two thousand additional
which M. Bezemaux derived from the shops around the Bastille and the
ferry-boats depending on the governor.
“It is true that out of this M. Bezemaux was obliged to pay a number
of sergeants and soldiers for the guard of the prisoners in his care,
but you know, from what you derive from your company, to what these
expenses amount. Having enumerated the value of this governorship, I
shall now say to you that it is for you to know your own interests,
that the King does not force you to accept it, if it is not agreeable
to you, and at the same time I do not doubt that you will take account
of the profit that is generally made upon what the King gives for the
keep of the prisoners, which profit may become considerable. There is
also the pleasure of being in Paris with one’s family and friends,
instead of being confined to an extremity of the kingdom. If I may
give my opinion, it seems to me very advantageous, and I believe, for
the reasons given above, that you would not lose by the exchange.
I beg you nevertheless to write me your opinion frankly concerning
that:”--Archives of the Ministry of War.
[622] P. 164, _ante_.
[623] The Count de Pontchartrain to Saint-Mars, November 3, 1698:
“The King approves of your prisoner from Provence confessing and
communicating whenever you think proper.”