resolved immediately to seize upon the provinces of Flanders and
Franche-Comte, which then belonged to the Spanish crown.

Notwithstanding the queen-mother had become so exhausted, from
long-continued and agonizing bodily sufferings, that she could not be
moved from one bed to another without fainting, still the festivities
of the palace continued unintermitted. The moans of the dying queen in
the darkened chamber could not be heard amidst the music and the
revelry of the Louvre and the Tuileries. On the 5th of January, 1666,
Philip, the Duke of Orleans, gave a magnificent ball in the palace of
St. Cloud. Louis XIV. was then in deep mourning for his father-in-law.
Decorously he wore the mourning dress of violet-colored velvet adopted
by the court; he, however, took care so effectually to cover his
mourning garments with glittering and costly gems that the color of
the material could not be discerned.

While her children were engaged in these revels, the queen-mother
passed a sleepless night of terrible suffering. It was apparent to her
that her dying hour was near at hand. She was informed by her
physician that her life could be continued but a few hours longer. She
called for her confessor, and requested every one else to leave the
room. What sins she confessed of heart or life are known only to him
and to God. Having obtained such absolution as the priest could give,
she prepared to partake of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Her son
Philip, with Madame his wife, were admitted to her chamber, where the
king soon joined them. The Archbishop of Auch, accompanied by quite a
retinue of ecclesiastics, approached with the holy viaticum. The most
scrupulous regard was paid to all the punctilious ceremonials of
courtly etiquette.

When the bishop was about to administer the oil of extreme unction,
the dying queen requested an attendant very carefully to raise the
borders of her cap, lest the oil should touch them, and give them an
unpleasant odor. It was one of the most melancholy and impressive of
earthly scenes. The king, young, sensitive, and easily overcome by
momentary emotion, could not refrain from seeing in that sad
spectacle, as in a mirror, his own inevitable lot. He fainted entirely
away, and was borne senseless from the apartment.

On the morning of the 7th or 8th of January, 1666, Anne of Austria
died. Her will was immediately brought from the cabinet and read. She
bequeathed her _heart_ to the convent of