“’The dread lest the prince should escape and succeed in appearing at the marriage of his brother made me so uneasy, that I sent off a messenger to the king to tell him that my casket had been opened, and asking for instructions.  The king sent back word through the cardinal that we were both to be shut up till further orders, and that the prince was to be made to understand that the cause of our common misfortune was his absurd claim.  I have since shared his prison, but I believe that a decree of release has arrived from my heavenly judge, and for my soul’s health and for my ward’s sake I make this declaration, that he may know what measures to take in order to put an end to his ignominious estate should the king die without children.  Can any oath imposed under threats oblige one to be silent about such incredible events, which it is nevertheless necessary that posterity should know?’”

Such were the contents of the historical document given by the regent to the princess, and it suggests a crowd of questions.  Who was the prince’s governor?  Was he a Burgundian?  Was he simply a landed proprietor, with some property and a country house in Burgundy?  How far was his estate from Dijon?  He must have been a man of note, for he enjoyed the most intimate confidence at the court of Louis xiii, either by virtue of his office or because he was a favourite of the king, the queen, and Cardinal Richelieu.  Can we learn from the list of the nobles of Burgundy what member of their body disappeared from public life along with a young ward whom he had brought up in his own house just after the marriage of Louis XIV?  Why did he not attach his signature to the declaration, which appears to be a hundred years old?  Did he dictate it when so near death that he had not strength to sign it?  How did it find its way out of prison?  And so forth.

There is no answer to all these questions, and I, for my part, cannot undertake to affirm that the document is genuine.  Abbe Soulavie relates that he one day “pressed the marshal for an answer to some questions on the matter, asking, amongst other things, if it were not true that the prisoner was an elder brother of Louis XIV born without the knowledge of Louis xiii.  The marshal appeared very much embarrassed, and although he did not entirely refuse to answer, what he said was not very explanatory.  He averred that this important personage was neither the illegitimate brother of Louis XIV, nor the Duke of Monmouth, nor the Comte de Vermandois, nor the Duc de Beaufort, and so on, as so many writers had asserted.”  He called all their writings mere inventions, but added that almost every one of them had got hold of some true incidents, as for instance the order to kill the prisoner should he make himself known.  Finally he acknowledged that he knew the state secret, and used the following words:  “All that I can tell you, abbe, is, that when the prisoner died at the beginning of the century, at a very advanced age, he had ceased to be of such importance as when, at the beginning of his reign, Louis XIV shut him up for weighty reasons of state.”