In the midst of all this public sorrow, the rejoicing and the fetes for the birth of the Duc de Bretagne son of Monseigneur le Duc de Bourgogne, were not discontinued.  The city gave a firework fete upon the river, that Monseigneur, the Princes, his sons, and Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne, with many ladies and 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 he was in a state to measure his forces with any opponent.  The English fleet was under the command of Admiral Rooks.  The Comte