Louis and William refused to give up, and in March 1700 they returned to the negotiating table to discuss the best way to go forward. The resulting proposal gave Archduke Charles all the possessions that were to have gone to Joseph Ferdinand, with the exception of the Milanais, which would be added to the dauphin’s portion. Once again, the arrangement was unpalatable to Leopold because Louis’s possession of the Milanais broke up the bloc of territories held by the Habsburgs.3
With the balance of power in Europe at an impasse, Louis moved the court to Fontainebleau, where he planned to enjoy the hunting and the verdant beauty of the place he had loved since boyhood. As usual, the business of government continued, and on November 9, the king was holding a meeting with his council of finances when a dispatch arrived from the marquis de Blécourt,4 his ambassador in Spain. King Carlos II, whose death had been expected for almost forty years, was dead. Carlos’s will, which had been witnessed by five or six grandees of Spain, left the entirety of his empire to the duc d’Anjou or his younger brother, the duc de Berry. Should Louis refuse to accept the legacy, Carlos’s next designated heir was the Archduke Charles.5
Carlos’s will offered France much more than Louis could ever have anticipated under the terms of the partition agreements he had concluded with William. He immediately cancelled the hunting expedition that he had planned for that afternoon and ordered his ministers to assemble in Mme de Maintenon’s chambers at three o’clock. Beauvillier6 urged Louis to reject the bequest and maintain the treaty he had agreed with William III. Chancellor Pontchartrain7 offered a useful summation of the situation as it stood but offered no opinion as to how Louis should proceed. Torcy8 reasoned that Leopold would never agree to the partition treaty and pointed out that should Louis not accept Carlos’s will, the whole of the Spanish succession would go to Archduke Charles. On that basis, he advised Louis to accept the will and declare Philippe, duc d’Anjou, the new king of Spain. The dauphin agreed with Torcy. When the meeting ended after four hours of deliberation, Louis remained undecided, but he took Torcy into his confidence, and the two men held several private discussions over the next few days.
The court returned to Versailles. Immediately after his lever the following morning, November 16, Louis invited the Spanish ambassador into his study. He then called for the duc d’Anjou, who was waiting in an anteroom, to enter. Louis turned to the ambassador and said, “You may hail him as your king.” The ambassador knelt before the seventeen-year-old and kissed his hand,9 saying, “What joy! The Pyrenees are no more; they are destroyed.”10 Louis, breaking all royal protocol, then ordered the study doors to be opened wide and commanded the courtiers to come in. He stood for a moment, casting a majestic glance over the large company before pointing to his grandson. “Messieurs, here is the king of Spain. His birth had called him to this crown the late king also by his will; the whole nation [of Spain] wishes it and had commanded it of me. It is Heaven’s command, and I accede with pleasure.” Turning to his grandson, he told him, “Be a good Spaniard; that is your first duty, but remember that you are born a Frenchman and maintain the union between our two nations; that is the way to make them happy and to preserve the peace of Europe.”11
Louis and the duc d’Anjou, now Philippe V of Spain, were equals. When the two kings went to mass, Louis offered the new king his hassock, but Philippe did not know how to cope with this breach of tradition, so he refused it. Louis merely put the hassock aside and knelt on the carpeted floor with the rest of his family.12
It was decided that Philippe V would travel into his new kingdom on December 1; but Louis, his eyes brimming with tears, had written out some words of advice to give him before he left. Written in haste, the words came straight from Louis’s heart:13
“Love the Spanish and all your subjects attached to your crown and person. Do not favor those that flatter you most; esteem those who for the common good risk your displeasure. It is in them that you find your true friends.”
He urged Philippe to make his subjects happy and not to make war until he was forced to do so. If, however, Philippe was obliged to make war, he should put himself at the head of his armies.
Philippe should never neglect business for pleasure, but to prepare for himself a kind of program which would allow him “some hours of liberty and amusement.” There were “few more innocent amusements than hunting and the pleasures of a country house,” Louis told him, “provided you do not spend too much on it.”
As to business, Louis urged Philippe to “listen carefully to the opening of any business,” but to reserve his decision until he had acquired more knowledge. “Remember that it is you who have to decide; but no matter how experienced you are, always listen to every argument of your council, before making that decision.”
It was important that Philippe should “always endeavour to have Spaniards” for his viceroys and governors, while keeping “all the French in order.”
Louis’s sentiments as a grandfather now emerged, and he asked Philippe always to “keep an affection” toward his family. “Remember their sorrow at parting with you,” he urged him. “Carry on constant correspondence with them on all matters great and small. Ask us for anything you are in want of or desire to have, and which you lack; we will ask the same of you.”
Louis told Philippe: “forget that you are a Frenchman and what may befall you,” and, as far as possible, avoid “granting favors to those who lay out money to obtain them. Give opportunely and freely,” but “hardly ever accept presents, unless they be quite trifling. If it happen that you cannot avoid accepting them, requite the donors with more generous gifts after a lapse of the few days.” In the interests of security, Louis urged Philippe to have a casket in which he could keep “any special thing”, and to let no one else have the key. Finally:
I conclude with the most important advice I can give you. See to it that you are the ruler. You must be master; never have a favorite nor a prime minister. Consult your council and listen to what they have to say, but decide for yourself. God, who had made you a king, will give you the necessary wisdom, so long as your intentions are good.
As Philippe V made his way to Spain, Louis was well aware that his accession cancelled the partition treaty he had agreed on with William. The king of England was equally aware of this, as was Leopold, and they contemplated declaring war on France. Both, however, decided to wait as, one by one, other European powers recognized Philippe’s accession.
When he arrived in Spain, however, Philippe found his new country in disarray. There was infighting among the political classes, apathy reigned everywhere, his new subjects were downhearted and in need of strong, stable leadership from a ruler who would reinvigorate the country and bring hope and inspiration to the people. Unfortunately, Philippe was not equal to the task. Louis had never forgotten the behavior of his uncle, Gaston d’Orléans, who had rebelled and intrigued not only against his own brother but also against Louis during his minority. Louis had enclosed the nobility within the gilded refinements of court etiquette and royal service, and that included his own relatives. His own brother, Philippe, had been granted no major role in government or the military. The younger brothers of the duc de Bourgogne, among them the new king of Spain, had been brought up to know their place. As a result, Philippe d’Anjou had not been educated for kingship, and he found the task before him almost impossible. Not knowing what to do, he lapsed into lethargy, rising late in the mornings, arriving hours late to council meetings, leaving letters unopened and rarely even speaking to anyone.14 He did make a dynastic marriage, however; on September 5, 1701, he married Marie-Louise de Savoy, the twelve-year-old sister of the duchesse de Bourgogne.
Clearly, the situation in Spain could not be allowed to continue. In May 1701, a Monsieur Ozon wrote to Torcy and told him that the people of Spain wanted Louis to govern until Philippe was ready to take over. Louville, chief of King Philippe’s French household, warned Torcy that the Spanish expected more of Louis than he could possibly offer them,
pointing out that “a kingdom which is rotten from top to bottom cannot be reinstated in a short time.”15
Louis wrote several letters to Philippe cajoling him to behave like a king, to sort out the problems in his kingdom and see to the welfare of his subjects. When that did not work, he was forced to take matters into his own hands. He reorganized Spain’s fiscal system, created a supreme council called the despacho, appointed Philippe’s gentlemen of bedchamber, sent troops to protect Spanish possessions in the Americas, and appointed merchants to administer Spain’s colonial trade.16
This was all very well, and other European rulers were prepared to allow that Louis was simply assisting his inexperienced grandson; but then Louis took a step that shattered this hope. By a declaration presented in parlement, he preserved Philippe’s provisional claim to the throne of France. This was in clear violation of the stipulation Carlos had placed in his will that the crowns of France and Spain were not to be united.17 He then took possession of several Flemish towns, which formed a defensive barrier between France and the Spanish Netherlands, as well as two ports, Ostend and Nieuwpoort. Stationing his troops in the towns, he held their Dutch garrisons hostage until the Estates-General declared its intentions. Even though this was a tacit declaration of war, England and Holland were conciliatory. William was happy to accept Philippe V’s accession, but he demanded the evacuation of the towns Louis had seized. When Louis refused, the Dutch, fearing for their security, appealed to England for assistance and England responded by preparing for war.
Meanwhile, England, Holland, and Emperor Leopold formed an alliance against Louis, the Grand Alliance of The Hague.18 Its aims were to address Leopold’s claims to the Spanish succession now that Louis’s acceptance of Carlos’s will had cancelled the partition treaty. Specifically, it wanted Spain’s Italian possessions to go to the emperor. It also wanted to secure English and Dutch territories and commerce and, finally, to ensure that captures in the Spanish colonies would be shared by England and Holland. Should Louis fail to satisfy these demands, the allies were prepared to create a barrier between France and the Spanish Netherlands. In addition, they would seek to prevent a union between the crowns of France and Spain. For the moment, they stopped short of declaring war on Louis.
It was at this point that Louis took a step too far. James, the deposed king of England, lay dying at Saint-Germain. Louis called a council to discuss whether or not he should recognize James’s son, James Francis Edward, known as the Old Pretender, as the new king of England. The council reminded Louis that the English Parliament had already declared that the crown would go to the house of Hanover upon William’s death. France would, therefore, be wrong to recognize the Old Pretender as king.
For Louis, this struck to the heart of the issue. His motives were partly driven by family sentiment, his Catholic prejudices, and his emotions,19 but he had always held the conviction that kings were appointed by God, not by parliaments. As a divinely appointed king, he had every right to influence royal succession, his choice being guided by God. Kings appointed by parliament, on the other hand, were restrained by the very powers that had created them; and they could control or even destroy him. It was a dangerous road to follow, one that could ultimately lead to the abolition of monarchy.20 Unfortunately, Louis should have listened to his council; in declaring for the Old Pretender, Louis committed a major error. On May 15, 1702, England, Holland, and the Holy Roman Empire declared war on France. The War of the Spanish Succession had begun.
In this war, which he did not want, Louis was dangerously out-manned and outgunned. France lacked the resources to finance another war, and to further compound the difficulties, Louis had to defend not only France but Spain as well. He adopted the strategy of attacking important towns within the Holy Roman Empire in the hope of forcing Leopold to capitulation.21 The maréchal de Villars22 won a significant victory in Friedlingen, after which he pushed on towards the Danube and took Riedlingen the following year. Here, he waited for the elector of Bavaria’s army so that they could launch an attack on Vienna together. At the last moment, the elector changed his mind and abandoned Villars, who was so disgusted that he resigned his command.23
In 1704, Louis attempted another assault on Vienna; this time his forces were commanded by Marcin.24 In May of that year, John Churchill, the future duke of Marlborough, began a 250-mile march towards the Danube. In June, he met up with Prince Eugène of Savoy, the son of Louis’s former favorite, Olympe Mancini, and together they marched on to meet the French. On August 12, they climbed the church tower at Dapfheim, from which vantage point they could see the French and their Bavarian allies taking up their position before the village of Blenheim. In the ensuing battle, which took place on the thirteenth, the French lost forty thousand of their sixty thousand men. The tides of war had now changed; Louis, no longer the aggressor, was forced to take a defensive position. Leopold erected a statue commemorating the event. The inscription read, LET LOUIS XIV KNOW THAT NO MAN BEFORE HIS DEATH SHOULD BE CALLED EITHER HAPPY OR GREAT.25 A dispatch carrying the news of the rout at Blenheim was sent to Versailles, but no one except Françoise had the courage to show it to Louis.
Blenheim was a major setback for Louis, but there was more to come. The English took Gibraltar that same month, allowing English ships to sail freely in the Mediterranean, where they could threaten important ports such as Marseilles. It was an English ship that carried Archduke Charles to Catalonia the following year. He captured Barcelona on October 9, made it his capital, and accepted the acclamations of Valencia and Murcia, who declared him king of Spain, supported by England and Holland.
It was now Bourbon against Habsburg as each side struggled to achieve mastery over mainland Europe. Philippe V, who had retreated to Valladolid, attempted to retake Barcelona in 1706, but the English, in alliance with Portugal, thwarted him by lifting the siege on May 11. On that day, there was a total eclipse of the sun; it was to prove an awful omen of the darkness that was about to fall over France. At first, it looked as though the heavens got it wrong, when Vendôme and the duc de Bourgogne launched a surprise attack on Ghent and Bruges, but their advance was halted by Marlborough and Eugène at Oudenarde. The allies then defeated Villeroy at Ramillies, thereby placing the alliance in command of the Spanish Netherlands. Louis moved troops north, but this left his southern flank exposed, and in October, the French under Orléans and Marcin were defeated at Turin. The allies, meanwhile, held on to Barcelona, adding Sardinia, Minorca, and Port Mahon to their growing list of victories.
This was unprecedented. Louis had never before experienced defeat on so great a scale. Comparing the king’s tribulations with those of Job, Françoise commented that “God wants to give him the same patience.”26 The year 1707 saw no more military defeats, despite the best efforts of the alliance, but Dutch scouts did manage to reach as far as Versailles, where they captured Béringhen, the dauphin’s chief equerry. Fortunately, he was later rescued.27
It was now that news arrived of someone long forgotten by all except the Mercure Galant. Upon her retirement from court, Athénaïs de Montespan had gone to the convent of Saint-Joseph in Paris, which she had founded. Unable to settle, she travelled frequently between her family estates, Bourbon, where she took the waters, and Fontevrault, where her sister was an abbess at a Benedictine convent. Always a devout Christian, she at last found peace under the guidance of Père de la Tour. Acting upon his advice, she wrote to her husband to apologize for all the wrongs she had done him. She offered to resume their life together or to retire to anywhere he chose for her, whichever he preferred. The marquis, however, would have none of it; he wanted nothing more to do with her for as long as he lived. Despite this, when he died, she mourned him as his widow.28
Under la Tour, Athénaïs’s penance was harsh, but she willingly submitted to it. Her prayers took precedence over card games, still her favorite pastime. She set aside her beautiful nightdresses for coarse garments of unbleached calico, and beneath her jewelry she mortif
ied her flesh with iron spikes.
Athénaïs had grown very afraid of death, and she employed women to sit by her bedside at night and keep watch over her as she slept with her bed curtains open and the room glowing with nightlights. Her health was generally good, but one night she woke up feeling very ill and sent her watchers to seek help. An emetic was administered and Athénaïs felt better, but the incident frightened her and she made full and public admission of the sins before all her servants and asked for their forgiveness. She then received the sacraments, after which her fear of death faded. It was while she was visiting Bourbon with a friend that she became ill, and it appears to have been the cure rather than the illness that was to be her undoing. She died at three in the morning of May 27, 1707, aged sixty-three.
The following year, Louis embarked upon a disastrous naval expedition to Scotland on behalf of the Old Pretender. As his ships made their way towards the Firth of Forth, Louis thought his offensive would be welcomed; it was a belief predicated on two assumptions. In the first place, he thought that the recent union with the crown of England was unpopular throughout Scotland. Second, he made the mistake of thinking that the Scots on the east coast shared the same religious and political views as those in the west and in the Highlands and Islands.29 He was wrong on both counts.
The failure of the Scottish expedition was followed by the loss of Lille to the allies. Louis took this defeat hard because the town had been one of his earliest conquests; its loss seemed to take with it the last of the glories of the past. Louis was bereft, but the recent defeats brought out Liselotte’s acerbic humor. “Everything is a question of fashion in France, and nowadays it is the fashion to be frightened and run away and be defeated, just as it used to be the fashion to defeat enemies and put them to flight.”30
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