MISERABLE DEATH OF VEND6ME. 237

frontier; there was nothing to do; for the Austrians weakened
by the departure of the English, were quite unable to attack;
•and Vend6me, floating upon the delights of his new dignities,
thought only of enjoying himself in the midst of profound
idleness, under pretext that operations could not at once be
•commenced.

In order to be more at liberty he separated from, the general
officers, and established himself with his valets and two or
three of his most familiar friends, cherished companions every-
where, at Vignarez, a little isolated hamlet, almost deserted, on
the sea-shore and in the kingdom of Valencia. His object was
'to eat fish there to his heart's content. Ho carried out that
object, and rilled himself to repletion for nearly a month. He
became unwell—his diet, as may be believed, was enough to
cause this—but his illness increased so rapidly, and in so
.-strange a manner, after having for a long time seemed nothing,
—that the few around him suspected poison, and sent on all
sides for assistance. But the malady would not wait; it aug-
mented rapidly with strange symptoms. Vondo'nio could not
sign a will that was presented to him; nor a letter to the King,
in which he asked that his brother might be permitted to return
to Court. Everybody near flew from him and abandoned him,
so that he remained in the hands of three or four of the meanest
•valets, whilst the rest robbed him of everything and decamped.
He passed thus, the last two or three days of his life, without
•a priest,—no mention even had been made of one,—without
other help than that of a single surgeon. The three or four
•valets who remained near him, seeing him at his last extremity,
seized hold of the few things he still possessed, and for want of
better plunder, dragged off his bed-clothes and the mattress
from under him. He piteously cried to them at least not to
leave him to die naked upon the baro bed. I know not whether
they listened to him.

Thus died on Friday, the 10th of June, 1712, the haughtiest
-of men; and the happiest, except in the latter years of his
life. After having been obliged to speak of him so often, I get
-rid of him now, once, and for ever. He was fifty-eight years