Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1871-05-25

O'CLOCK, the guarded hitter passed the
draw-bridge of the Bastile, and the
prisoher was placed in one of the rooms
of the tower of La Bertaudiere. Here
for five years the Man in the Mask is
lost to sight. Yet tradition has thrown
faint light upon the singular story.
1t is said that the prisoner was always
treated with unusual Difference; that
his jailer never sat down In his pres
ence; that he was supplied with every
luxury; that he was clothed in the fin
est linen and the costliest laces, for
which he showed an extravagant fond
ness; that his table was abundant; that
he amused his leisure by playing on
the guitar. But from all intercourse
with the world around him he was
sternly cut off. His mask was never
raised even when he took his food, and
orders were given to kill him should
he attempt to remove 1t. ..f-. .-...
An aged physician of the Bastile,
who hOd often attended him, stated
that he never saw his face, although he
had examined his tongue. He was
finely formed, said the doctor; his COM
plexiOn was dark. his voice low and
soft. Yet he never complained of his
condition, nor gave the least indication
of who he was. A perpetual terror
had probably broken down within him
every thought of resistance to his roy
al prosecutor. A doubtful story is told
at St. Marguerite that the prisoner one
day wrote with knife on a silver plate
which he had used at dinner, and threw
itout of the window toward boat
that lay on the shore near the foot of
1. f.,v A &nh O of
the boat found the plate and brought it
to the Governor. He asked the fisher
man in establishment and alarm, "Have
you read what is written on this plate
has anyone seen it in your pOssession?"
The man replied that he could not
read and had shown it to no one. The
Governor dismissed him, saying, "lt
is happy for you that you can not read. !"
Another legend relates that the prime
minister of France, Louvois, visited
the masked prisoner in his cell at st.
Marguerite and during the interview
refused to sit down in his presence.
III evidently treated the miserable cap
tive as if he were his superior
For five years the Man of the Iron
Mask survived his removal to I Bas-
tile. Winter and summer his narrow
cell in the lonely tower echoed to the
note of his mournful guitar, almost
the only sound that awoke its utter
silence. His youth and manhood had
passed away, and he had never heard
the sweet voices of sympathy, Of friend
ship, of compassion or of love. The
suspicious tones of Caution Saint Mars
and the stealthy tread of his spies were
the only sounds with which he was ia
miliar. Around him he might hear
the murnur of busy Paris; at st. Mar
guerite he might have caught the roar
of the tempest tossed waves. But he
must have forgotten, in his endless
captivity, the cheerful sounds of his
childhood, or perhaps fancied them re-
viyed in the gentle music of his guitar
His mind no doubt sank into imbecility
in his solitary bondage. 1t happened
to most of the captives of the magnifi.
cent Louis to fall into premature dOtage
and to die surrounded by mental illu.
sions.E Nor could the Manin the Mask
I have escaped the common fate of Fou-
auet or Iauzun, of Avedick and the
Huguenot Ministers. Old age came
upon him without reverence and with.
out regard. Nofriendly eye had look,
ed upon his yelled countenanee; nc
children or grandchildren cheered his
weary hours as they drooped 81, WY
away. The fatal purpose of Louis XIV
was perfectly fulfilled, and the myste-
rious captive was shut forever from all
intercourse with his felIOw-man.
At last the inevitable deliverance
came. In November, 1903, while the
king was wrapped in his scheme of uni
versaI rule, or revelling in his gorgeous
palaces and gay parterres, the draw
bridge of the Bastile was lowered, and
a scanty funeral train passed slowly
| out to the Cemetry of the Church of st
Paul. The night was falling; the
shadows Ofevening hid the last funeral
rites of the Man of the Mask. He had
been taken i'll a few days before, sunk
rapidly, and died in his solitary cell
Around him were only the cold and
pitiless jailers, and no kind words mol
gentle faces cheered his last hours on
earth. He was buried with little eere
mony and no show of regret. Two o
the officers of the prison alone followed
| to the grave him whom credible histo
rians have thought the rightful King
of France, and who is shown by all thu
circumstances of his Imprisonment t.
have been at least person of import
ance. No relative, no friend, was tolt
of his fate; the king would suffer m
person to know of his fate EUge,e
Laurence, IN Hupe''s Magazine TO
.June.