Versailles, December 13, 1711.
It is sad, my dear mother, that my brother and I have the same sympathy in toothache. I hope he has not had anything like that which I had last night; it made me suffer horribly, not being rid of it one moment. For more than two months it has seized me from time to time. I have ceased taking care of it, for keeping my room does me no good, and during the time I am not in it I am thinking and always hoping the pain may not return. I merely avoid the wind in my ears, and eating anything which may hurt me. I think the dreadful weather contributes to these face-aches.
As for me, my dear mother, I cannot be as reserved as you in speaking about the peace; I absolutely must tell you what I think of it. We have to-day another courier from England which confirms the hopes I feel. The conferences will be held at Utrecht, and will begin on the twelfth of next month. [The peace she longed for was not signed at Utrecht until a year after her death.] They would not make such advances if they were not veritably resolved to conclude a peace so desired by all and so necessary to Europe. It is only the emperor who still will not listen to it; but when he finds himself alone he will surely come into it. They say it is his usual way to make difficulties, and that the last time he made as many as he makes now. I hope that soon you will not be so reserved with me, and that we shall all have every reason to rejoice together.
I look forward to the great pleasure of once more seeing the Piedmontese in this country, and of being able to talk to them of you, of all my dear family, and of the country, the mere recollection of which is so pleasant to me.
Poor Mme. du Lude is again attacked with gout in the breast and feet; she suffers much. I am very much afraid that in the end it will play her some bad trick. Madame is taking remedies; she was bled two days ago and has taken medicine to-day. It was not before she wanted it, for she drops asleep everywhere, which gives much anxiety to all those who take an interest in her. She must have felt the need of remedies to have brought herself to take them. Adieu, my dear mother, I embrace you with all my heart.
Versailles, December 18, 1711.
It is in order not to miss a week in assuring you myself of my tenderness that I write to-day. For the last seven days I have been, my dear mother, in a state of great exhaustion which has prevented me from dressing; for the inflammation that I had in my teeth has spread now over my whole body. I can scarcely move; and my head feels a horrible weight.
I wanted to forestall the first day of the year by offering to all my family the wishes I desire for them; not being able to do so, I content myself, my dear mother, by embracing you with all my heart.
[The above is the last letter of the dauphine which has been preserved in the State Archives of Turin. She died two months later, February 12, 1712, aged twenty-six years and two months; her husband, the dauphin, died on the 18th, and her eldest son, the Duc de Bretagne, the little dauphin, died a week later. See “Memoirs of the Duc de Saint-Simon,” Vol. III., translated edition.]