Philosophical Dictionary (Vol. 2)

that they buried a log in his place, that Louis XIV had a solemn service held for this log, and that to finish the convalescence of his own son, he sent him to get some air at the Bastille for the rest of his life, with an iron mask on his face.

It was then imagined that the Duke of Monmouth, whom King James had publicly beheaded in London in 1685, was the man in the iron mask. It would have been necessary for him to have resurrected, and for him to have then changed the order of time, that he had put the year 1662 in place of 1685; that King James, who never forgave anyone, and who by that deserved all his misfortunes, had forgiven the Duke of Monmouth, and had put to death, instead of him, a man who resembled him perfectly. It would have been necessary to find this double, who would have had the kindness to have his neck cut in public to save the Duke of Monmouth. It would have been necessary for all of England to have been mistaken about it; that then King James would have urgently begged Louis XIV to please serve him as a sergeant and as a jailer. Then Louis XIV, having done this little favor for King James, would not have failed to have the same regard for King William and for Queen Anne, with whom he was at war; and he would have carefully maintained, in the presence of these two monarchs, his dignity as a jailer with which King James had honored him.

All these illusions being dissipated, it remains to be known who this prisoner was, always masked, at what age he died, and under what name he was buried. It is clear that if they did not let him pass in the courtyard of the Bastille, if they did not permit him to speak to his doctor except while covered with a mask, it was for fear that one might recognize in his features some resemblance that was too striking. He could show his tongue, but never his face. As for his age, he said himself to the apothecary of the Bastille, a few days before his death, that he believed he was about sixty years old; and the sieur Marsolan, surgeon to the Marshal of Richelieu, and then to the Duke of Orléans, Regent, son-in-law of that apothecary, told me so more than once.

Finally, why give him an Italian name? He was always called Marchiali. The one who is writing this article perhaps knows more than Father Grifet, and will say no more about it.