The evidences of the King’s piety, and of the eagerness of the Chapter to satisfy it, did not end here. On January 24, 1684, M. Chauvelin, Intendant of the province, drew up with the Chapter, in the name of Louis XIV., a deed in which it was stipulated “that the prelate, dean, and canons should say every day, each in his turn and during the year following the inhumation, a low requiem mass in the chapelle ardente,[145] prepared and hung with mourning for this purpose; that on the 18th November of every year, or in case of hindrance on another day near that date, there should be celebrated in perpetuity in their church a solemn service, preceded by vigils of nine psalms and nine lessons; that the Chapter should distribute annually to fifty poor people, who were to be present at these offices, five sols each, and an eight-pounds loaf; that there should also be given every year by the Chapter on the day of the service, to the poor Clairisses[146] of the city of Arras, a sum of six livres, in order that their community might pray for the soul of the Count de Vermandois, and that all the bells should be tolled on the day, and on the evening before, as is customary at the obits of the bishops.” In order to indemnify the Chapter for the expenditure imposed by him, Louis XIV. bestowed upon it, in addition to magnificent presents, a sum of 10,000 livres, which served to purchase at the village of La Coutaie, near Béthune, a farm, since then, and for that cause, known as the Ferme de Vermandois. Until the year 1789, the stipulations contained in this deed were faithfully executed, and, during more than a century, November 25 witnessed a renewal of the alms of the Chapter, the prayers of the clergy, the assemblage of all the magistrates and municipal officers, and, in this manner, the remembrance of the son of La Vallière.
In supposing that Vermandois could have given way to such a violent and hasty act towards the Dauphin, without the proof of it being handed down to us; that Louis XIV. was cruel enough to condemn a beloved son to perpetual imprisonment; and, finally, that it was possible to keep his abduction secret in the midst of the troops, how can we possibly admit that ceremonies, which the pious monarch always regarded as sacred, could have been ordered by him to deceive his subjects and take advantage of their credulity? How can we admit that this illness, of which we have traced all the phases, was feigned; that the despatches that have been analysed were false; that Louis XIV. had for the accomplices of his stratagem men such as the Lieutenant-General Boufflers, Marshal d’Humières, and the Marquis de Montchevreuil; that, not content with making them take part in such a singular project, he made a mockery of religion the better to mask it? How can we admit that this bier, round which prayers ascended and tears flowed, was empty,[147] and that the Prince, of whom pompous epitaphs vaunt the qualities, was then in rigorous confinement at Pignerol? Finally, how explain, if not as the testimony of his sincere piety and affection, this solemn service, founded in perpetuity by Louis XIV., and which, in prolonging it, would have aggravated an impious derision, and perpetuated the memory of a profane fraud?
FOOTNOTES:
[117] In the preceding chapters we have made no mention of a Mémoire de M. de Saint-Mars sur la Naissance de l’Homme au Masque de Fer, published in vol. iii. of the Mémoires de Tous (Levasseur, 1835, 8vo). According to this document, “copied by M. Billiard from the Archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,” M. de Saint-Mars had been the governor of the mysterious son of Anne of Austria, whose high origin was carefully hidden from him. But this brother of Louis XIV. having discovered it, was sent to the Isles Sainte-Marguerite, the command of which was then (in 1687) confided to his governor. If we have not spoken of this document, it is because its authenticity has already been completely disproved. It is nothing else than a copy of the apocryphal narrative of Soulavie, which we have transcribed and refuted in the first part of our work (see page 15). The author of this copy has contented himself with substituting Saint-Mars for the “anonymous governor of the unfortunate prince.” He did not think that he thereby added a fresh impossibility to those contained in the narrative of Soulavie. For how could Saint-Mars, before 1687, have been the governor of a brother of Louis XIV., when a hundred despatches establish the fact that, from 1664, he was successively governor of the donjon of Pignerol and of Exiles? As to the presence of this document in the Archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, there is no reason for astonishment. It is explained, like the presence of so many other documents in our archives, by the seizure of the papers of great personages after their deaths, or, more commonly, by having been transmitted by some ambassador inhabiting the country in which these apocryphal writings circulated freely. But the place where they are found gives them no authenticity. At all periods, and to-day even, ambassadors send to the Government copies of anonymous memoirs, pamphlets, and different papers, which remain joined to their despatches, but to which no historical value can be ascribed. It has been the same with this pretended Mémoire de Saint-Mars, of which, in addition, a mere perusal demonstrates the untruth to any one acquainted with the usual style of the illiterate governor of the Isles Sainte-Marguerite. One sometimes hears it related—and this fact has been repeated to ourselves—that a great personage of a former Government introduced one of his friends, with much precaution, into the galleries of the Archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and there showed him a document which contained the secret of the Man with the Iron Mask. It is doubtless the document attributed to Saint-Mars that is referred to in this anecdote.
[118] Letter of Madame la Présidente d’Osembray to Bussy-Rabutin, dated December 22, 1683:—Lettres de Roger de Rabutin, Comte de Bussy, vol. vi. p. 135, edition of 1716. Testimony of Lauzun in the Mémoires de Mademoiselle de Montpensier, vol. vii. pp. 90, 92.
[119] That of High Admiral. See amongst the papers of Colbert, MSS. of the Imperial Library, a curious memorandum drawn up by him, “to know what name and title it is necessary to give to M. le Comte de Vermandois.” Vermandois was endowed on November 12, 1669, at the age of twenty-two months, with this office of High Admiral of France, which, suppressed in 1626 by Richelieu, and changed by him into the office of “Grand Master, Chief, and General Superintendent of the Navigation and Commerce of France,” had been held successively by the Cardinal himself; his nephew Armand de Maillé-Brézé, Duke de Fronsac; Anne of Austria; César, Duke de Vendôme; and his son François de Vendôme, Duke de Beaufort.
[120] Letter of the Présidente d’Osembray, already cited.
[121] Published by the Compagnie des Libraires Associés (Company of Associated Booksellers) in 12mo.
[122] Mémoires Secrets pour servir à l’Histoire de Perse.
[123] The academy here mentioned is not the present French Academy, but a kind of gymnasium, where the nobles met to learn riding, fencing, dancing, &c. It is frequently referred to in the memoirs of the time.—Trans.