Anne of Austria was born on 22 September 1601 at Benavente Palace in Valladolid, Spain, and baptised Ana María Mauricia, she was the eldest daughter of King Philip III of Spain and his wife Margaret of Austria. She held the titles of Infanta of Spain and of Portugal and Archduchess of Austria. In spite of her birth in Spain, she was referred to as Anne of Austria because the rulers of Spain belonged to the House of Austria.
Anne was raised mainly at the Royal Alcazar of Madrid. Exceptionally for a royal princess, Anne grew up close to her parents, who were very religious. She was raised to be religious too, and was often taken to visit monasteries during her childhood. In 1611, she lost her mother, who died in childbirth. Despite her grief, Anne did her best to take care of her younger siblings, who referred to her with affection as their mother.
It would be a few more days before we got see Papa again. I had never seen Philippe so excited. I will admit, I was anxious to be with our father again. As much as I loved our mother, her demeanor had become indiscernible since father had gotten ill.
After our morning routine, we were taken outside to the gardens where father was sitting upright in a long chair with a blanket covering him from the waist down. Our governess led us to him. When he saw us, he smiled.
“See, Philippe,” he said. “I told you would take you and your brother into the gardens. “Thank you, Françoise.”
She bowed and left us together.
“But Papa,” I began. “You are still not well, and Philippe has not behaved as you wished him to.”
Philippe sneered at me, then kicked me.
“Now, Philippe,” Papa said. “That was not nice.”
“Louis is not nice,” he said. “I have, too, been good, Papa. I did not drop my porridge on the floor today.”
“Well,” Papa said. “I am very proud of you, Philippe.”
“See, Louis,” he said, sticking his tongue out at me. “Papa is proud of me.”
He climbed up on Papa’s lap.
“Are you still ill,” I asked. “Why are you not in bed?”
“I wanted some fresh air and to see my sons,” he answered. “I am feeling better, but I still need some rest, Louis. Do not worry. I will be fine.”
Somehow, even then, I found that hard to believe.
“If you cannot walk,” Philippe began. “Then I will stay with you.”
He curled up on Papa’s lap, with his arms around his chest. I put my head on Papa’s shoulder. We remained quiet together for some time. It was a moment I never wanted to end. After that day, Papa would try to be with us as much as he could, even as his sickness started to take him from us.
**** **** **** ****
One morning, as our governess was taking us to our father’s apartments, we heard a familiar voice coming from his room. When the door opened, we our mother speaking with Papa.
“I do care what the doctors say, Anne,” we heard him say. “I will not miss my son’s baptism.”
“You can hardly stand up as it is, Louis,” she said. “You do not need to exert yourself unnecessarily. There will be other things in his life you will get to see providing you follow your doctors’ orders.”
Papa looked at us standing in the middle of the room with our governess. I felt Philippe take my hand. The room was uncomfortably silent. I could see our parents trying to create an explanation for what we had just heard.
“Louis,” Papa said.
I knew what they were talking about. I did not understand it entirely, but I knew something was wrong. I wanted to run out of the room, but I could not leave Philippe. I did the only thing I could do—I took him with me.
I turned swiftly and led Philippe out the door we had just entered. Once outside we both began to run as fast as we could. We had not idea where we were going. We found a dark corner under behind a statue. We could hear our governess and several others calling for us. I put my fingers to my lips. Philippe nodded. When everyone had gone, I sighed deeply.
“Louis,” Philippe whispered.
“Yes.”
“Why are we hiding,” he asked.
“Philippe, listen to me,” I began. “I think Papa is very ill.”
“Why?”
“I do not know,” I answered. “I wish I knew why.”
“Louis,” he said. “What is ill?”
“That is when you do not feel well,” I said.
“I do not feel well, Louis,” he said.
“Are you ill?”
“I do not know.”
“Come, Philippe,” I said, as we crawled out from behind the statue.
“Your Highnesses,” a voice said. We looked up to see our governess looking down at us. We stood up. Immediately, she picked up Philippe. “Why did you run away?”
“Papa is very ill,” I said. “I am afraid for him.”
“People get ill,” she said. “They also get better.”
“I am ill,” Philippe said.
“No, you are not, Monsieur,” she said.
“Yes, I am,” he replied. “I do not feel well.”
“What is the matter,” she asked.
“I do not know,” he said. “Louis said I do not feel well.”
“I did not,” I said loudly.
“You Highness, I know you are worried about your father, but you should not.”
“I am ill like Papa,” Philippe said.
“No, you are not,” I said.
“But you said I do not feel well, Louis.”
“Monsieur, you need a nap.”
“Because I am ill,” he answered.
“Because you are annoying,” I said.
“Come, Your Highness,” she said taking my hand. “I think you both need a nap.”
She took us to our room and put us in bed.
“Now, Your Highnesses, do not move,” she said. “Rest for a while. I promise you will feel better. I am going to see your father to tell him you are safe.”
We nodded. Once she closed the door, Philippe climbed out of bed and went to the door.
“Philippe, she said not to move,” I scolded.
He looked at me for a moment then continued to try to reach for the door handle. I got out of bed and grabbed him.
“Where are you going,” I asked.
“I want to see Papa,” he said tearing up. “I am ill, too.”
“No, you are not, Philippe,” I said. “You are fine.”
“I do not want to be, Louis,” he said, starting to cry. “I want to be like Papa.”
“Philippe, Papa would not want you to be ill,” I said. “He would want you to be well.”
“If I am well,” he began. “Will Papa be happy.”
“Yes,” I answered. “He would be very happy.”
He wiped his tears away then smiled. As soon as I let him go, he tried to open the door again.
“Philippe, what are you doing?”
“I want to tell Papa I am well.”
I knew I was going to regret what I was about to do but I did it anyway.
“I am going with you,” I said. “You are too young to go alone.”
I slowly opened the door and looked out. There was no one in the connecting room leading to the hallway. I put my finger to my lips to keep Philippe quiet. He nodded as he looked around. We ran to the door. I know there had to be a guard somewhere. I slowly opened the door and looked out. Two guards were there but they were occupied with several ladies. Quietly, we slipped out the door and tiptoed in the opposite direction. When we were far enough away, we began running. Needless to say, we got lost. I had no idea where we were. We went around another corner to another long corridor. I could not tell doors from the walls. When we heard footsteps, we looked around for a place to hide.
“Where do you two think you are going,” a voice asked. We turned around to see Papa in the hall.
“Papa,” Philippe yelled excitedly running toward him. I followed him. Papa must have felt better because he scooped Philippe up.
“Why are two out of your apartments,” he asked.
“Philippe and I were looking for you, Papa,” I said.
“Yes,” Philippe said. “I want to tell you something.”
“What,” he asked.
“I am not ill,” Philippe answered.
Papa started to laugh.
“Well, I am glad, Philippe,” he said.
“We heard you and Maman,” I said. “Philippe wanted to be like you.”
Papa sighed and put Philippe down. Kneeling down, he embraced both of us.
“My sons,” he said. “I love you both so much. I am glad for your good health. I do not wish either of you to be ill, Philippe. Please, Louis, do not worry about me. You are far too young to worry about such things. I will be fine.”
“Are you happy,” Philippe said, yawning.
“I am as happy as you are sleepy.”
“I am not sleepy.”
Papa picked him up. Philippe put his arms around his neck and fell asleep.
“You must be very happy, Papa,” I said.
“Yes, I am, Louis,” he said. “Let us go put your brother to bed. Do not tell your mother about this. Promise me.”
“Yes, Papa,” I said, taking his hand.
He returned us to our apartments. That was the last time I would see my father walking again.–The Secret of the House of Bourbon–XIV by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 1-15-2022
It will not be long before little Louis becomes king of France.
