The servant, in his vexation, dashed his portfolio on the ground.  The master, forgetting, what he seldom forgot, that a King should be a gentleman, lifted his cane.  Fortunately his wife was present.  She, with her usual prudence, caught his arm.  She then got Louvois out of the room, and exhorted him to come back the next day as if nothing had happened.  The next day he came; but with death in his face.  The King, though full of resentment, was touched with pity, and advised Louvois to go home and take care of himself.  That evening the great minister died.244

Louvois had constantly opposed all plans for the invasion of England.  His death was therefore regarded at Saint Germains as a fortunate event.245 It was however necessary to look sad, and to send a gentleman to Versailles with some words of condolence.  The messenger found the gorgeous circle of courtiers assembled round their master on the terrace above the orangery.  “Sir,” said Lewis, in a tone so easy and cheerful that it filled all the bystanders with amazement, “present my compliments and thanks to the King and Queen of England, and tell them that neither my affairs nor theirs will go on the worse by what has happened.”  These words were doubtless meant to intimate that the influence of Louvois had not been exerted in favour of the House of Stuart.246 One compliment, however, a compliment which cost France dear, Lewis thought it right to pay to the memory of his ablest servant.  The Marquess of Barbesieux, son of Louvois, was placed, in his twenty-fifth year, at the head of the war department.  The young man was by no means deficient in abilities, and had been, during some years, employed in business of grave importance.  But his passions were strong; his judgment was not ripe; and his sudden elevation turned his head.  His manners gave general disgust.  Old officers complained that he kept them long in his antechamber while he was amusing himself with his spaniels and his flatterers.  Those who were admitted to his presence went away disgusted by his rudeness and arrogance.  As was natural at his age, he valued power chiefly as the means of procuring pleasure.  Millions of crowns were expended on the luxurious villa where he loved to forget the cares of office in gay conversation, delicate cookery and foaming champagne.  He often pleaded an attack of fever as an excuse for not making his appearance at the proper hour in the royal closet, when in truth he had been playing truant among his boon companions and mistresses.  “The French King,” said William, “has an odd taste.  He chooses an old woman for his mistress, and a young man for his minister."247