About the same time the Duke of Bavaria, disgusted with the arrogance and the despotism of Leopold, renounced allegiance to the emperor, entered into an alliance with the French, and at the head of forty thousand troops, French and Bavarians, commenced the invasion of Austria from the west.  Both Eugene and Marlborough hastened to the rescue of the emperor.  Combining their forces, with awful slaughter they mowed down the French and Bavarians at Blenheim, and then overran all Bavaria.  The elector fled with the mutilated remnants of his army to France.  The conquerors seized all the fortresses, all the guns and ammunition; disbanded the Bavarian troops, took possession of the revenues of the kingdom, and assigned to the heart-broken wife of the duke a humble residence in the dismantled capital of the duchy.

The signal victory of Blenheim enabled Leopold to concentrate his energies upon Hungary.  It was now winter, and the belligerents, during these stormy months, were active in making preparations for the campaign of the spring.  But Leopold’s hour was now tolled.  That summons came which prince and peasant must alike obey, and the emperor, after a few months of languor and pain, on the 5th of May, 1705, passed away to that tribunal where each must answer for every deed done in the body.  He was sixty-five years of age, and had occupied the throne forty-six years.  This is the longest reign recorded in the Austrian annals, excepting that of Frederic III.

The reign of Leopold was eventful and woeful.  It was almost one continued scene of carnage.  In his character there was a singular blending of the good and the bad.  In what is usually called moral character he was irreproachable.  He was a faithful husband, a kind father, and had no taste for any sensual pleasures.  In his natural disposition he was melancholy, and so exceedingly reserved, that he lived in his palace almost the life of a recluse.  Though he was called the most learned prince of his age, a Jesuitical education had so poisoned and debauched his mind, that while perpetrating the most grievous crimes of perfidy and cruelty, he seemed sincerely to feel that he was doing God service.  His persecution of the Protestants was persistent, relentless and horrible; while at the same time he was scrupulous in his devotions, never allowing the cares of business to interfere with the prescribed duties of the Church. The Church, the human church of popes, cardinals, bishops and priests, was his guide, not the divine Bible.  Hence his darkness of mind and his crimes.  Pope Innocent XI. deemed him worthy of canonization.  But an indignant world must in justice inscribe upon his tomb, “Tyrant and Persecutor.”

He was three times married; first, to Margaret, daughter of Philip IV. of Spain; again, to Claudia, daughter of Ferdinand of Tyrol; and a third time, to Eleonora, daughter of Philip, Elector Palatine.  The character and history of his third wife are peculiarly illustrative of the kind of religion inculcated in that day, and of the beautiful spirit of piety often exemplified in the midst of melancholy errors.