Note 68 — LETTER XLI.
Reading edition
The King of France having declar’d War against the Emperor in 1733, in Conjunction with the Kings of Spain and Sardinia, his Majesty gave the Marshal de Villars the Command of his Army in Italy; to which Country he repair’d after the Conquest of the Milanese had been very far advanc’d. He took Pizzighitone; but the Imperial Army being at length form’d, the Count de Merci, who commanded it, having taken the Field with it on a sudden, by passing the Po, made so many Motions, that the old Marshal, being forc’d to be every-where, according to his old Phrase, fell sick upon it, and was oblig’d to leave the Army. Some do not stick to say, that he had Orders for it from Court, where his Conduct was not approv’d: Be this as it will, his Distemper growing worse upon his Arrival at Turin, he died there the 17th of June 1734, in the 84th Year of his Age, in the same Room, as ’tis said, where he was born, his Father the Marquis de Villars being then there by Order of the King. In 1702 he married Joanna-Angelica Roque de Varengeville, whose Father was the King’s Ambassador at Venice. The Family of Villars is originally of Lyons, and first began to be distinguish’d in the Person of Claude de Villars, Lord of Chapelle, and Masclas, second Son to Francis de Villars, born about Ann. 1516. The Marshal was to the last a Man of uncommon Gaiety and Gallantry; for whether Fighting or Dancing, he appear’d with the same Vivacity and good Humour, and seem’d an Enemy to none except the Jesuits. What did not consist with such a Temper, was his Love of Money; and he inrich’d himself too much by the Spoils of War, and the Contributions he used to raise for Safe-guards, &c. But as for his Soldier-like Character, this one Story of him may suffice; In 1702 the Marshal order’d his Army to pass the Rhine at Haguenau, the same Night that he invited several Gentlemen and ladies to a Ball, where he danc’d till two o’Clock in the Morning, and then mounted his Horse unobserv’d, and follow’d his Army; with which he surprised the Prince of Baden, and fought a Battle by the Time the Ball was broke up; for which Action the King gave him the Marshal’s Batoon. The Conquests of Milan and other Places in Italy, which he made in 1733, were accompany’d also with Dancing and Balls; but Age and Infirmities, at last, made a Conquest of him. His Memory and his Judgment so fail’d him, that he became troublesome to the Army; but his fighting Humour still prevail’d, and he would have endanger’d all, had not the King of Sardinia prevail’d on the King of France to recall him. However, the King of Sardinia took Leave of him in the Field with great Civility, and at his Arrival at Turin, where he fell ill of a Dysentery, accompany’d with a Fever, of which he died, he was receiv’d very graciously by the late Queen, who presented him with a Diamond Sword, valued at 300 Pistoles.
The following Sonnet was presented to the Marshal, when he set out for Italy.
Villars, tes grands Exploits qui sauverent la France, Dans les Siecles futurs t’immortaliseront. La Paix fut le doux fruit de ta haute prudence; Mais de nouveaux Lauriers doivent ceindre ton front. Le Pere de ton Roi, l’Espagne & le Piémont, Sur toi seul aujourd’hui fondent leurs Esperances. Arme ton bras vainquer, cours venger leur affront; L’Allemand pourra-i-il soutenir ta présence? Les grands Cœurs en tout tems conservent leur valeur, L’Age respecte en eux leur prémiere vigueur, Ils savent s’affranchir des Loix de la Nature: Semblables aux Lauriers que leur main va cueillir, Qui des ans, des saisons ne craiguent point l’injure, Les Héros ont le droit le ne jamais vieillir.
i. e.
Villars, thy great Exploits, which sav’d all France, In future Ages will immortalise thee. The Peace was the kind Product of thy great Wisdom; But new Laurels are still to deck thy Brow. The Father of thy King, Spain, and Piedmont too, Upon thee alone do now found all their Hopes. Haste with thy conqu’ring Arm their Quarrel to avenge; Will Germany be able to withstand thy Presence? Great Souls always retain their Valour; To their former Vigour Age itself pays a Respect; They can shake off the Yoke of Nature’s Laws. Like to the Laurels gather’d by their Hands, Which are Proof against the Injuries of Years and Seasons, Heroes never stoop to old Age.