This will was the work of the council of Spain, at the head of which sat Cardinal Porto-Carrero.  “The national party,” says M. Mignet in his “Introduction aux Documents relatifs de la Succession d’Espagne,_ “detested the Austrians because they had been so long in Spain; it liked the French because they were no longer there.  The former had been there time enough to weary by their dominion, whilst the latter were served by the mere fact of their removal.”  Singlehanded, Louis XIV. appeared powerful enough to maintain the integrity of the Spanish monarchy before the face and in the teeth of all the competitors.  “The King of Spain was beginning to see the, things of this world by the light alone of that awful torch which is lighted to lighten the dying.” [Memoires de St. Simon, t. iii. p. 16]; wavering, irresolute, distracted within himself, he asked the advice of Pope Innocent XII., who was favorable to France.  The hopes of Louis XIV. had not soared so high; on the 9th of November, 1700, he heard at one and the same time of Charles II.’s death and the contents of his will.

It was a solemn situation.  The acceptance by France of the King of Spain’s will meant war; the refusal did not make peace certain; in default of a French prince the crown was to go to Archduke Charles; neither Spain nor Austria would hear of dismemberment; could they be forced to accept the treaty of partition which they had hitherto rejected angrily?  The king’s council was divided; Louis XIV. listened in silence to the arguments of the dauphin and of the ministers; for a moment the resolution was taken of holding by the treaty of partition; next day the king again assembled his council without as yet making known his decision; on Tuesday, November 16, the whole court thronged into the galleries of Versailles; it was known that several couriers had arrived from Madrid; the king sent for the Spanish ambassador into his closet.  “The Duke of Anjou had repaired thither by the back way,” says the Duke of St. Simon in his Memoires; the king, introducing him to him, told him he might salute him as his king.  The instant afterwards the king, contrary to all custom, had the folding-doors thrown open, and ordered everybody who was there—­and there was a crowd—­to come in; then, casting his eyes majestically over the numerous company, “Gentlemen,” he said, introducing the Duke of Anjou, “here is the King of Spain.  His birth called him to that crown; the last king gave it him by his will; the grandees desired him, and have demanded him of me urgently; it is the will of Heaven, and I have yielded with pleasure.”  And, turning to his grandson, “Be a good Spaniard,” he said; “that is from this moment your first duty; but remember that you are French born in order to keep up the union between the two nations; that is the way to render them happy and to preserve the peace of Europe.”  Three weeks later the young king was on the road to Spain.  There are no longer any Pyrenees,” said Louis XIV., as he embraced his grandson.  The rights of Philip V. to the crown of France had been carefully reserved by a formal act of the king’s.