nd courtiers, came to see from the windows
of the Louvre, magnificent cheer and refreshments being provided for
them. This was a contrast which irritated the people, who would not
understand that it was meant for magnanimity. A few days afterwards the
King gave an illumination and a fete at Marly, to which the Court of
Saint Germain was invited; and which was all in honour of Madame la
Duchesse de Bourgogne. He thanked the Prevot des Marchand for the
fireworks upon the river, and said that Monseigneur and Madame had found
them very beautiful.

Shortly after this, I received a letter from one of my friends, the Duc
de Montfort, who had always been in the army of the Marechal de Villeroy.
He sent word to me, that upon his return he intended to break his sword,
and retire from the army. His letter was written in such a despairing
tone that, fearing lest with his burning courage he might commit some
martial folly, I conjured him not to throw himself into danger for the
sake of being killed. It seemed that I had anticipated his intentions.
A convoy of money was to be sent to Landau. Twice he asked to be allowed
to take charge of this convoy, and twice he was told it was too
insignificant a charge for a camp-marshal to undertake. The third time
that he asked this favour, he obtained it by pure importunity. He
carried the money safely into Landau, without meeting with any obstacle.
On his return he saw some hussars roving about. Without a moment's
hesitation he resolved to give chase to them. He was with difficulty
restrained for some time, and a last, breaking away, he set off to attack
them, followed by only two officers. The hussars dispersed themselves,
and retreated; the Duc de Montfort followed them, rode into the midst of
them, was surrounded on all sides, and soon received a blow which
overturned him. In a few moments after, being carried off by his men, he
died, having only had time to confess himself, and to arrive at his
quarters. He was infinitely regretted by everybody who had known him.
The grief of his family may be imagined.

CHAPTER XXX

The King did not long remain without some consolation for the loss of the
battle of Hochstedt (Blenheim). The Comte de Toulouse--very different in
every respect from his brother, the Duc du Maine--was wearied with
cruising in the Mediterranean, without daring to attack enemies that were
too strong for him. He had, therefore, obtained reinforcements this
year, so that