but of black velvet. Later we shall show how the legend struck root
and flowered, from the moment when the poor valet, Martin (by his
prison pseudonym 'Eustache Dauger'), was immured in the French
fortress of Pignerol, in Piedmont (August 1669).

The Man, IN CONNECTION WITH THE MASK, is first known to us from a
kind of notebook kept by du Junca, Lieutenant of the Bastille. On
September 18, 1698, he records the arrival of the new Governor of
the Bastille, M. de Saint-Mars, bringing with him, from his last
place, the Isles Sainte-Marguerite, in the bay of Cannes, 'an old
prisoner whom he had at Pignerol. He keeps the prisoner always
masked, his name is not spoken. . . and I have put him, alone, in
the third chamber of the Bertaudiere tower, having furnished it some
days before with everything, by order of M. de Saint-Mars. The
prisoner is to be served and cared for by M. de Rosarges,' the
officer next in command under Saint-Mars.*

*Funck-Brentano. Legendes et Archives de la Bastille, pp. 86, 87,
Paris, 1898, p. 277, a facsimile of this entry.

The prisoner's death is entered by du Junca on November 19, 1703.
To that entry we return later.

The existence of this prisoner was known and excited curiosity. On
October 15, 1711, the Princess Palatine wrote about the case to the
Electress Sophia of Hanover, 'A man lived for long years in the
Bastille, masked, and masked he died there. Two musketeers were by
his side to shoot him if ever he unmasked. He ate and slept in his
mask. There must, doubtless, have been some good reason for this,
as otherwise he was very well treated, well lodged, and had