This state of things naturally attracted the attention of Frederick II, and drew him again into the field of action. As the agreement to keep the treaty of Oberschnellendorf had been broken, he no longer felt bound by his own promise. He again joined forces with the hard-pressed Elector, the new Emperor, and a fresh war-torch was set ablaze, which alarmed Maria Theresa more than the old one. Frederick’s arms were victorious, his activity in making alliances against Austria unceasing, and when the Zieten[10]hussars made inroads as far as Stockerau, destruction seemed hanging once more over Maria Theresa’s head. The storm did not break, however, for Frederick found himself checked by Saxony, and the French were little inclined to play into the hands of Prussia. Frederick would gladly have consented to an adjustment of his relations with Austria, had it been possible; but the battles of Chotusitz and Czaslau changed the aspect of things, for they gave him the victory, though at a terrible sacrifice. Nevertheless, his view of the situation was not altered to such an extent that he did not still wish to end the war. With the same desire on both sides there could be but one result, and peace was signed at Breslau in the Summer of 1742.
By this treaty Frederick received the duchy of Upper and Lower Silesia and Glatz, and renounced all further claims on Maria Theresa. The boundaries were firmly fixed, and she won a free hand in this quarter, but with a loss that cut her to the heart. The finest jewel had been torn from her crown, and with a bleeding heart she had been forced to give it up in order to save the rest of her inheritance. On one side the flames of war were now extinguished, but on the other they still blazed fiercely. Her hopes were nearing fulfilment. The troops which she had been obliged to employ against Frederick could now be sent to oppose her other foes, and this was a great gain, for this division of her strength had been a constant source of anxiety to her, and with good reason. Bohemia next claimed her attention, and thither she sent the forces thus released. Nor was this the only reward so dearly bought by the peace of Breslau; for her friends were now encouraged to show their sympathy and offer her assistance. To win back Bohemia and its capital was her next important task.
In Italy the situation had improved for her—not without some sacrifice, it is true—and from there she could also send troops to Bohemia, to enable the Austrian army to invest Prague. In the besieged city were a body of French, and this caused as much anxiety in Paris as it did to Marshal Belle-Isle himself in Prague. He tried to make terms, but his schemes were frustrated, as well as the proposed negotiations for peace from Paris, by the resolute courage and firmness of the Empress. She would listen to none of Francis’ proposals, none of Belle-Isle’s plans for capitulation. She rejected both with noble pride and indignation, deeply as her refusal might be resented by France.
In Prague the distress of the French increased rapidly. The lack of provisions had become alarming. Belle-Isle had only one hope—the French auxiliary corps under Harcourt which Khevenhüller was holding back on the Danube. But could he count on it? The army on the lower Rhine was in the same predicament. Here, as there, a decided “Halt!” had been called to France, which she was compelled to obey. It seemed impossible that their comrades in Prague could expect any help from either of these quarters; yet nevertheless it came, at the express command of the King of France.
The commander-in-chief of the French on the lower Rhine, where an English force was opposing them, suddenly departed, leaving one division engaged with the English, and hastened unobstructed to Bavaria, where he was joined by a Bavarian army corps. At the same time Count Maurice of Saxony replaced Harcourt in the army on the Danube. He also contrived to elude Khevenhüller, and made all speed with the main body of his troops toward Maillebois’ division. The bold stroke was successful, and while the besieging army, apprised of this new danger, was hastening to meet it, the beleaguered French tried to escape from Prague and join Maillebois. The attempt failed, however, as did that general’s efforts to relieve the city. Closely invested as it now was by Lobkowitz, Prague could no longer hold out; for, in addition to the scarcity of food, they had to endure the bitter cold of Winter, and there was a lack of fuel also. He conducted the siege so carelessly, however, that Belle-Isle finally managed to escape with the French garrison and all the artillery and stores. Not till they were gone did the Austrians discover it and pursue them; but they succeeded in reaching Eger, though with great suffering and loss. Those who were left behind in Prague would have been taken prisoners had not their leader made known to the Austrian commander that they must be allowed to retire with military honors, or he would set fire to the city and bury himself and all his troops under its ashes. Lobkowitz consented to their retreat in order to save Prague, and thus ingloriously took possession of the shattered city. Had Maria Theresa not had a kind and merciful heart, the inhabitants would have suffered even more than they had been called upon to endure; for many of those who had been so ready to help crown the Elector of Bavaria well deserved the punishment they thus escaped. Now that Bohemia as far as the city of Eger was once more her own, Maria Theresa was crowned with great pomp as Queen of Bohemia.
An anecdote in this connection will be of interest. A courier arrived from Charles VII, bringing a protest from him, as crowned King of Bohemia, against Maria Theresa’s coronation. Smiling, she ordered the courier to be given a number of her gold coronation coins, with instructions to carry them back to his master without delay. This was done, and doubtless the sight of the coins caused little pleasure in Munich.
Fortune now seemed to favor Maria Theresa everywhere. In Italy, too, events had shaped themselves to her advantage, and at the close of the year 1742 she could look cheerfully into the future, although the sky was not entirely cloudless; for in Italy there were many knots to be untied that only the sword could loosen.
The Spring saw banners waving and heard the roll of the drums in Bavaria. The Bavarian Field Marshal von Seckendorff, who had been ordered back to Munich by his lord and emperor, fell back across the Iser before Prince Charles of Lorraine and old Khevenhüller, who were pressing him hotly. The French general, Broglio, meanwhile inactive in Osterhof, watching these proceedings, made no response to Seckendorff’s appeals. Nor was this retreat all; for, more important still, the whole division under General Minuzzi was completely crushed by the Austrians in a bloody battle, where Minuzzi himself was taken prisoner. This was a Spring greeting most joyfully received in Vienna, and which seemed but a forerunner of still further victories.
No sooner was this accomplished than Khevenhüller turned his attention to the French, whom he would gladly have shown the way across the Rhine. Broglio may have suspected this, and was so obliging as to relieve the old hero of this agreeable task, for at Khevenhüller’s approach he turned his troops toward Ingolstadt (which was not forward) and kept his movements secret until he was across the Rhine, where twelve thousand men would reënforce him. Then, and then only, did he feel himself safe. Bavaria now realized what she was to expect from her light-footed allies, and sent them no thanks. Charles VII, too, knew at last upon what he had been relying and that he must once more bid farewell to his good city of Munich, if, indeed, he might not be obliged to occupy an unsought lodging in Vienna. Had he looked at this time at the coronation coins brought him by the courier from Vienna, it must have seemed that a mocking smile hovered about Maria Theresa’s lips, and that she whispered softly but significantly, “Auf wiedersehen!” There was no choice left him but to enter into negotiations with Austria to protect his ancestral domains.
Maria Theresa, in the midst of her victorious career, offered the hand of peace. Charles VII renounced his claims to the Austrian succession and, fortunately for the public tranquillity, left all the conquered territory in the possession of Austria. To guard against any future trouble Maria Theresa had all these States take the oath of allegiance to her, even though they might be only temporarily in her possession. This was a triumph for her which offset the homage received by Charles in Bohemia,—a return which he had well deserved and which he well understood without any further explanation.
Thus fortune still smiled upon Maria Theresa, here as elsewhere. The English army in the Netherlands had crossed the Rhine, and, advancing by way of Frankfort, received a large reënforcement and tried to effect a union with Khevenhüller and Prince Charles of Lorraine, who had pushed forward from the Upper Rhine. Marshal de Noailles was opposing them with a considerable force, but when he perceived their design he crossed the Rhine to attack the English. George II himself joined the army just then, fortunately, and a battle was fought at Dettingen, on the Main, which resulted in Noailles’ retreat across the Rhine again. The King of England then held a council of war with Khevenhüller and the Prince at Hainault to decide what course to pursue. It was agreed that King George should lead the way while the Austrian generals crossed the river at Basel and try to reach Lorraine, in order to take up Winter quarters in Champagne. This plan miscarried, however, and the Austrian army returned to Bavaria for the Winter, while King George, after destroying the French works on the Rhine, especially at Landau, withdrew again across the river and also went into Winter quarters, for Winter campaigns were not generally undertaken at that time.
Though the results of the wars Maria Theresa was waging against her enemies were most gratifying, the troubles in Italy still weighed like an Alp upon her heart. The Spanish general in command there had drawn upon himself, and not without cause, the reproach of negligence. A substitute had replaced him with urgent orders to retrieve the errors of his predecessor, and he might have been able to do so had he not had an adversary so brave, crafty, and well versed in the arts of war as the old field-marshal, Count Traun.
Already there had been a bloody battle, February 8, 1743, in which he had been the victor, but at this time negotiations were begun which put an end to the bloodshed. They took place at Worms, between England, Sardinia, and Austria, and again was Maria Theresa obliged to resign some of her territory, this time in Sardinia, in order to effect the alliance. Scarcely were the terms completed, when Lobkowitz, who had succeeded old Traun in the command, advanced against the Spaniards and drove them back: whereupon the King of Sardinia struck the French-Spanish army such a blow that it was forced to retreat to the south of France for the Winter.
Though Maria Theresa had been unfortunate in having to relinquish more of her territory in this campaign, still, the armies were victorious, and all these circumstances had served to unite her more closely to her friends, and had given her a new ally in the person of the Elector Frederick Augustus IV of Saxony, with twenty thousand troops to assist her. Thus far the outlook was very bright; but by the close of the year 1743 new clouds foretold a gathering storm. The lion on the Spree had begun to stir and toss his mane. Frederick’s army, which had once in jest been called the “Potsdam Night-watch Parade,” was as little a subject for derision as he who commanded and was the soul of it.
Although she had prepared for it carefully, Maria Theresa could not look forward with much confidence to this new struggle, which began in the Spring. Khevenhüller was dead, and she had shed tears of sorrow and gratitude for him, which the brave old soldier had well deserved from his sovereign. She felt the loss of his strong support in this war, upon which France, who heretofore had merely been an ally of the enemies of Austria, had now entered on her own account, in league with Spain.
The campaign began in the Netherlands, where a well-organized French army under capable leadership was arrayed against the combined forces of Austria, Holland, and England, the latter being under various commands and far inferior in numbers. The advantage, therefore, was decidedly with the French. To offset this, an Austrian force was sent to invade Alsace, which was occupied by French and Bavarian troops. It was led by Prince Charles of Lorraine and brave old “Father Traun,” as the soldiers called the old Count, who was universally beloved by them. In the Netherlands fortune favored the French; in Alsace, the Austrians. Prince Charles of Lorraine marched triumphantly into Lorraine, and his light cavalry made inroads as far as the environs of Lüneville, where he was checked by fresh forces under able generals sent from France to oppose his victorious advance.
Such was the state of affairs beyond the Rhine when the second Silesian war involved Maria Theresa in fresh troubles. Frederick II, who was anxious about the safety of his newly acquired possessions, had taken advantage of the peace further to strengthen his army and make all his preparations for a campaign. Moreover, he understood how to fill the public treasury without seeming to impair the resources or prosperity of the people—certainly a great and rare art.
At this important juncture, when Maria Theresa’s attention was fully occupied in the Netherlands and in Alsace, he had a well-equipped army of one hundred and twenty thousand men, an abundance of stores and ammunition, and, above all, plenty of money at his command, which Montecuculi[11]rightly called the first, second, and third requirements for conducting a war, and of which Austria had never possessed a surplus, least of all now. Frederick’s apprehensions concerning Silesia were strengthened by the fact that, since the peace of Breslau, Maria Theresa’s power had increased to such an extent that with the assistance of her allies she might easily plan to reconquer the province whose loss she had never forgotten; indeed, he felt sure this would be the case. He followed one of his own precepts when he took up the sword again, “that it is always the greatest folly not to anticipate a disaster, if one hopes to avert it.” Nevertheless, he clearly realized the advantages of an alliance with the neutral German princes, and tried hard to bring it about; and when this plan failed, he joined forces with France, the Emperor Charles VII, and others, thus insuring the success of his plans.
Maria Theresa’s heart sank when she heard of this, but trust in God and the justice of her cause sustained her, as these words of hers prove: “God knows my right; He will protect me as He has hitherto done!” Many letters were exchanged between Frederick and herself, each charging the other with breaking their treaty; but it was of no avail. War was finally declared, ostensibly in behalf of the Emperor Charles VII, and Frederick’s army, one hundred thousand strong, invaded Bohemia, while a part of it was sent to guard Kurmark[12]and Silesia. Saxony was stunned when Frederick without further ceremony crossed its frontiers, and made some fruitless attempts at resistance, but Zieten cleared the way with his huzzars, and in an incredibly short time Frederick was before Prague.
Maria Theresa called out the militia of the country to meet the danger; but of what avail was the militia against the invincible Prussians? Where should she turn for aid in her extremity but to her loyal Hungary? She hastened to Presburg, where once more her words and her beauty kindled a blaze of enthusiasm and devotion, and almost as if sprung from the earth forty thousand Hungarians stood ready to fight for her; thirty thousand more formed the reserve, and ten thousand were hurriedly despatched to Bohemia to oppose Frederick. This was the work of the old Palatine Palffy, who was no longer able to do any fighting himself. Maria Theresa wrote him that charming letter which will ever remain a model in the art of saying much in few words, and with it sent her finest horse, a costly jewelled sword, and a valuable diamond ring. She wrote:
“My Father Palffy,—I send you this horse, which is worthy of being mounted only by the noblest of my subjects; accept also this sword to defend me against my enemies, and keep this ring as a token of my lasting affection.Theresa.”
“My Father Palffy,—I send you this horse, which is worthy of being mounted only by the noblest of my subjects; accept also this sword to defend me against my enemies, and keep this ring as a token of my lasting affection.
Theresa.”
The sending of the letter and the gifts was soon known all over Hungary, and its effect upon a people so easily roused to enthusiasm, and at the same time ready to devote themselves to her cause with the last drop of their blood, may well be imagined. Before help could arrive, however, Frederick had taken Prague, and several other important cities also fell into his hands. The friends of Maria Theresa began to lose courage, but not she! When the Hungarians arrived, she forced Saxony into some decisive course and recalled Prince Charles of Lorraine to Bohemia.
Notwithstanding the difficulty of such an undertaking against so powerful an adversary, Prince Charles met with brilliant success, and the troops from Alsace were aided by auxiliary forces from Saxony. Old Count Traun found the plan of cutting Frederick off from Prague and conquering him by starvation an excellent one, and proceeded to carry it out in a masterly manner. Frederick sought to force his adversary into a battle, but the latter continually evaded him. Traun’s light horsemen harassed his troops on every side and captured his provision train, while the Bohemians, with their Queen’s soldiers, buried the stores in the ground and then made their escape in the forests. Frederick was beside himself with rage. His soldiers, suffering from hunger and every discomfort, quarrelled among themselves and deserted in large numbers, and at last, though much against his will, he was obliged to begin a retreat.
Thus the Austrians again came into possession of Bohemia, with but trifling losses; and old “Father Traun,” thinking it wise to follow the Prussians, even entered Glatz and Upper Silesia. Already it began to seem as though Maria Theresa might regain her beloved Silesia, when all at once the tables were turned.
The army imprudently had been allowed to scatter. The troops from Saxony had withdrawn and other divisions had been despatched elsewhere, when the Prussians suddenly turned and assumed the offensive, and Traun was obliged to retreat to Moravia. The Austrians struck a few more vigorous blows, and the campaign ended in both armies going into Winter quarters. Although she had been obliged to yield some advantages to Frederick, the campaign on the whole had resulted decidedly in Maria Theresa’s favor. Frederick was disposed therefore to make peace, and signified his willingness to do so, but Maria Theresa rejected his overtures, since she had formed a new alliance with England, Holland, and Saxony, and now had a prospect of retrieving her losses and winning back Silesia, the lost jewel that had been torn from her crown.
With this bright outlook for the future, the Spring campaign was just beginning, when the Emperor Charles VII died, January 20, 1745. This event completely changed the aspect of affairs, and the imperial crown, once possessed by her own house, seemed to Maria Theresa a prize worth any effort could she but see it placed upon the head of her consort.
Little heed was paid to the unfortunate Emperor’s advice to his son, Maximilian Joseph, to make peace with Austria and banish all hopes of the imperial crown from his heart. The young Elector was only too ready to listen to ambitious schemers, but before the earth was fully decked with living green, all his hopes had perished. The victories of the Austrians compelled him, as they once had done his father, to fly from Munich. Then for the first time he realized the wisdom of his father’s counsel, and refused to listen any longer to those who advised him to continue the struggle. He sued for peace, which was concluded on April 22, 1745, at Füssen. Austria restored all his conquered territory to him, while he renounced his claims to the succession, acknowledged Maria Theresa’s rights under the Pragmatic Sanction, and promised her husband his vote at the imperial election. The Empress’ heart beat high with joy, for this broke the alliance known as the “Frankfort Union,” and Frederick II now stood alone. His situation became even more threatening when Russia announced that she would permit no attack on Saxony, which amounted to an unequivocal if tacit declaration that in such a case she would join the league that had been formed in Warsaw between Austria, England, Holland, and Saxony, called the “Quadruple Alliance.”
Frederick now concluded it was better to seek peace than to enter the lists against such odds; but all his attempts at negotiation were frustrated, notwithstanding the advantageous character of the conditions he offered. Maria Theresa was determined to have Silesia back again, but he would not agree to that. She then tried to win over Saxony, and in that she succeeded brilliantly. The prospect looked dark for Frederick II, for he also was in need of money. The royal plate had already found its way secretly to the mint, to reappear in silver coins, but that was insufficient. The King did not attempt to conceal the fact from himself that he stood on the edge of a precipice, but a spirit like his was not to be daunted by fear of threatening spectres.
The campaign finally reopened under these altered conditions. Maria Theresa sent eighty thousand of her troops, with thirty thousand Saxons, to take possession of Silesia. This army was in high spirits, for it was rumored all over the country that Frederick was completely discouraged and disheartened by the misfortunes of the last campaign. No one suspected that he himself had caused this report to be circulated. He wanted to entice the Austrians across the mountains, and they walked into the trap. Frederick had taken up a position that would enable him to fall upon the enemy as it emerged from the mountains, and he awaited Prince Charles with perfect calmness and confidence. His concealed position completely deceived the Austrians; they supposed the small band of Prussians, which they had discovered from a mountain top, to be part of the rear-guard of the army retreating to Breslau.
When Frederick crossed the stream at Striegau on the morning of the fourth of June, his troops encountered two battalions of Saxons, who were not a little startled to meet with Prussians there. They halted to wait for the rest of the army to come up with them, but it had scarcely made its appearance when Frederick opened a murderous artillery fire. The Austrian cavalry hurled itself upon the Prussians, but was soon thrown into wildest confusion and totally routed. The two Saxon battalions that had led the way were almost entirely cut to pieces, and the Austrians who followed shared the same fate. The Prince of Lorraine was thoroughly deceived, for he supposed the cannonading and fire of musketry came from the Saxons who were capturing Striegau. It did not occur to him, therefore, to send relief, for he still imagined the Prussians in full retreat toward Breslau. When at last he discovered the Saxons in disorderly flight and realized what had happened, he hastened to place his troops in order of battle, but before this could be accomplished the Prussians had attacked and routed them. Nothing was left for him, after five hours’ hard fighting, but to turn about and escape by way of Hohenfriedberg. They were not pursued, for Frederick’s army was too exhausted after the struggle. It was a terribly disastrous battle for Austria and Saxony, and for Frederick a victory which did not produce the results it seemed to promise.
Prince Charles withdrew to Bohemia, and took up a strong position there with the Saxons. Frederick followed, but did not dare to attack him while he was so strongly intrenched, and remained there inactive for three months, while the Austrians had as little desire to assume the offensive before the arrival of reënforcements.
All this time the war in Flanders had been blazing fiercely, and the French had gained several victories over the allies. The King of England, George II, who had been placed in a very trying position by France, was anxious for Maria Theresa and Frederick to make terms with each other, and tried his best to bring it about. An agreement was actually drawn up, but when Maria Theresa found that the King of England had guaranteed the possession of Silesia to Frederick, she firmly refused to have anything more to do with it. Rather would she—and these were her own words—“part with the gown from her back than Silesia.” She attached but little importance to the lost battle of Hohenfriedberg, and had perfect confidence in the judgment and bravery of Prince Charles of Lorraine and the loyalty of her Hungarians. Moreover, the prospects were good that the imperial crown would fall to her husband’s lot. How then could she resign herself to the thought of sacrificing her beloved Silesia?
Her consort, Francis Stephen, was indeed elected Emperor and crowned under the name of Francis I, and thus Maria Theresa’s dearest wish was fulfilled. She had fresh hope and courage, and a vigorous prosecution of the war was ordered.
The plans of George II of England came to naught, and Frederick resumed hostilities, for the Empress would never consent to give up Silesia; but he knew his task was a hard one. In Silesia the Hungarians had taken Kosel. A part of his army was sent to recapture it and drive them out, in which it was successful. Another detachment went to join old Dessauer at Halle, to oppose the Saxons who were threatening Brandenburg. Frederick had but twenty-two thousand men to oppose a superior force of Austrians, and delay had placed them at a disadvantage; for it had enabled the enemy to approach so near that an attack could not be avoided. He determined therefore to change his position and move farther away; but just as he was about to put this plan into execution, Charles of Lorraine began his assault. It was on the morning of September 30, 1745, near Sohr. Frederick still had time to dispose his troops; then he hurled his cavalry against the Austrians. This was the beginning of a battle that resulted in a brilliant victory for the Prussians, for the infantry with magnificent bravery followed the example of the cavalry. For five days Frederick’s army camped undisturbed on the battlefield, and then moved toward Silesia to go into Winter quarters.
Once more there were hopes of peace, but it was not yet to be. In Vienna a Winter campaign had been determined on. The army was to advance directly to Berlin under the Prince of Lorraine. One division on the Rhine was to unite with Saxony in driving the Prussians from Halle, and then join the main army before Berlin. Maria Theresa’s secret plans were betrayed, however, to the King of Prussia, and that enabled him to set every lever in motion to thwart her projects, in accordance with his favorite method, “anticipate the disaster.” It was dangerous work for him, for Russia had promised to support Saxony in case of attack from Prussia, and the warning was repeated when Frederick announced his purpose; but strong measures were necessary, and he departed to join the main body of his army in Silesia. Here he learned that Prince Charles and the Saxons had invaded Upper Lusatia. After seeing that the Silesian frontier was well protected, therefore, he hastened with all possible secrecy to Lusatia and met the enemy at Kunersdorf. His sudden attack was successful, and put an end to all hopes of taking Berlin by surprise. The unexpected appearance of the Prussians and their victory disheartened the Austrian army, and Prince Charles retreated to Bohemia.
Nor was this defeat all. Frederick summoned old Dessauer to Saxony, advanced against Dresden, and made an offer of peace to Saxony, but it was rejected. The sword had to settle the question, which it speedily did. The battle of Kesselsdorf was decisive; a bad blunder of the Saxons gave the victory to Prussia, and obliged Prince Charles to seek safety with his army. The defeated Saxons abandoned their capital, and Frederick entered Dresden, December 18, 1745. This opened the way for peace, and terms were made soon afterward by which Frederick definitely acknowledged Maria Theresa’s right to the electoral vote of Bohemia and the validity of her husband’s election as Emperor, but retained possession of Silesia.
Thus Austria, great as her losses had been in this war, had at least gained what the Empress so earnestly desired; but at the same time had been again obliged to leave Silesia in the hands of Prussia and put a good face on the matter. Saxony, on the other hand, had felt the full weight of the conqueror’s hand, and was glad to come out of it so cheaply after all. The treaty of Dresden also securely settled various other affairs of Maria Theresa’s at home, which had been disturbed by the long and ruinous conflict.
In Italy, affairs proved even more disastrous. Genoa, which up to this time had remained neutral, now sided with Spain, Naples, and France, so that there was an addition of ten thousand men to the enemy’s forces to be reckoned with when the campaign opened in May. This gave them an army of seventy thousand capable of crushing Austria and its ally Sardinia.
The outlook was dark for Maria Theresa when the Dresden Treaty was signed. While on the one hand it brought respite, on the other redoubled vigilance and energy were needed. The overburdened Empress breathed a little more freely, and calmly faced the situation in Italy, where she had sent reënforcements to the army and placed Prince Wenzel Lichtenstein in command. Thirty thousand fresh troops, with amanat their head, count for a great deal; the latter even more than the former, since any number of troops without a competent leader can accomplish little.
The new campaign, in the Spring of 1746, began hopefully, and its promise was realized largely by an unforeseen event which occurred on the ninth of July and made an important change in the situation. This was the death of King Philip V of Spain,[13]and the succession to the throne of Ferdinand VI,[14]who was anxious for peace.
A change in the leadership of the Spanish forces in Italy had already weakened them, and the recall of six thousand men to Spain greatly increased Lichtenstein’s advantage, as results were not slow in proving. The battle of the tenth of August disposed of the Spaniards as far as Maria Theresa’s army was concerned, and left it free to chastise Genoa. That Republic, already alarmed at the turn of events, became panicstricken when the Austrians captured Bocchetta, and the Senate bowed its once proud neck beneath the foot of the victor. The punishment it had so well merited was not lacking when the day of reckoning came. Maria Theresa magnanimously, indeed, sought to save Genoa from the depths of humiliation to which Botta relentlessly subjected it, for the crippled Republic had suffered enough,—and too much, as the sequel showed.
At this juncture, when the army was victorious and both ready and able to continue the work, Maria Theresa’s plans were frustrated by the jealousy of England and Sardinia. The two allies felt obliged to turn their arms against Naples, which lay so near, and the result was obvious: the Empress was forced to abandon them and follow the French and Spaniards to Nice. The advance into Provence, however, was suddenly brought to a standstill, because of the harsh treatment Genoa had received. The bow had been bent too far, and it broke. A popular insurrection was the fruit of Botta’s revenge. Austria’s disregard of the fact that a people driven to desperation will risk everything—a fact unfortunately too often forgotten, in spite of the terrible examples in history,—cost it dearly; for, aside from its material losses in men and supplies, Botta’s flight and the forced retreat of Browne from Provence were bitter fruit. Nor was it made any less so by the loss of Genoa itself, and the fact that Austria had only itself to blame; for the brutal severity of the conqueror and his overbearing arrogance were alone responsible. Genoa retained its freedom after this, and the war was continued with varying results until the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle put an end to the bloodshed; but Austria had no cause to rejoice over this peace, and Maria Theresa felt it deeply.
The Queen, however, now turned her vigorous mind and generous sympathies into other channels than those which ran red with human blood, and devoted herself to the welfare of her people. War, even in its grandest aspect, is and must always be degrading to humanity and a source of untold misery. The old German saying that “Peace nourishes; strife consumes,” is a true one. In spite of manifold disasters, Maria Theresa had emerged from the long struggle with success; she had defeated the efforts of her enemies to break her power, and had strengthened her empire. It had taken eight years of war; but the great Empress had not been through this hard school of experience without profiting much by it, even if her gains were not those of territory.
The eight years of peace that now ensued gave her time and opportunity to effect the reforms she had in mind, a work that appealed strongly to her and was worthy of her best endeavors. She had a wide field before her, for the weakness of the antiquated system of government bequeathed from the Middle Ages was felt on all sides. A great advance in civilization had been made during that period, and many cumbersome formalities had to be abandoned in order that the administration of affairs should be in sympathy with this development.
Maria Theresa grasped the situation clearly; she understood all this, as well as her own position and power and the country’s needs. It was a woman in this case that proved the old saying, “One’s self is the man”; for it was she herself who was the motive power in these salutary reforms; it was her own hand that guided the affairs of state and directed the reforms in the condition of her people.
Experience had taught her the value of Prince Eugene’s advice to her father, which unfortunately for himself the latter had so little heeded; hence her first thought was for the reorganization of the army. Well as she knew its deficiencies, she showed no haste or precipitation in making the necessary changes, but proceeded slowly though surely to the end she had in view. The wonderful personal influence and power of this remarkable woman were not the only evidences of her greatness; they were apparent also in her successful discovery of the right men, and assignment of them to positions where they would be most effective and accomplish the most good. The change brought about in the army was an illustration of this; not only was the discipline wonderfully improved, but so much spirit and enthusiasm were infused into it that at the beginning of the Seven Years’ War Frederick the Great himself was forced to declare, “These are no longer the old Austrians!” But there was the same love and devotion for the Empress which had been manifested in the days of the first Silesian war, and the army submitted willingly and cheerfully to all her measures of reform.
In this work Maria Theresa had two faithful assistants, Count Daun, whose ancestral home was a stronghold in the volcanic mountains of Eifel and even in its ruined state a worthy cradle of a great race, and Prince Wenzel Lichtenstein. As Daun, one might say, created the infantry, so old Lichtenstein was the founder of the new artillery—two branches of the service in which Frederick II was an adept. The cavalry, just as it stood, had served as a model for Frederick, but even in that branch of the service there was room for improvement. Maria Theresa devoted especial attention to the breeding of good horses for the cavalry, and took great interest in hospital work. It would take too long to go into all the details of this important work, but one of her remarkable achievements must not be overlooked. This was the construction of a line of defences, or “military frontier,” along the Turkish border, which interposed an effective barrier against those invasions and unexpected attacks which had been so common in previous wars with that country.
If Maria Theresa’s determined efforts to strengthen her army really meant that she had Silesia in her mind, who can blame her, especially when the affection with which she clung to that lost province and her inward conviction that two natures like hers and Frederick II’s could never remain long at peace with one another, as was indeed the case, are considered?
With this problem of perfecting the army and fitting it for future service—possibly the re-conquest of Silesia—was closely linked another, suggested by that saying of Montecuculi’s already quoted; namely, that the requisites of war were, firstly, money; secondly, more money; and thirdly, more money again, and plenty of it. The second task that confronted Maria Theresa’s dauntless spirit was the question of taxes, or, in a word, what we call finances. Austria was rich in resources, but there had been a lack of good management in their application. Judicious economy was much needed in this branch of the administration, and, remembering the extravagance and wastefulness that had prevailed in her father’s time, the Empress began the reduction of expenses. This action and her realization that the proper remedy was to be obtained not by the imposition of crushing taxes on her subjects, but by developing the rich resources of the country, merely furnish further proofs of her political wisdom and statesmanship.
During the last war, the lack of funds in the treasury had made it necessary to impose heavy taxes to meet the deficiency, but the system was wrong, and failed to effect the desired object; it only made the taxes extremely burdensome, and its injustice increased the irritation and discontent of the people. This was an evil that needed a remedy, as her unerring glance had long since discovered, and she lost no time in devoting all her energies to the establishment of a system, wherein juster methods should be employed; there were so many who for various reasons were exempt from taxation, that it became absolutely necessary to limit the number. These reforms were received with great enthusiasm all over the land, and endeared her still more to the people.
Part of Maria Theresa’s success was due to her judgment and sagacity in choosing for her advisers men of the highest talents and abilities, as well as to that unerring tact which is one of nature’s best gifts to mankind, and which helped her here as it had with the army. Among her statesmen, she possessed in Kaunitz[15]not only an able and clever diplomatist, who filled the highest posts of honor with credit to himself and his country, but also a faithful and devoted servant, and an invaluable aid to her in all her far-reaching plans. The one with which she was closely concerned at this time had been suggested by England. It was a proposal to retain the imperial crown of the Holy Roman Empire of the German nation in her family, and make her son, the Archduke Joseph, King of Rome; thus giving him the right, on the death of her husband, to succeed him as Emperor, and prevent any more such destructive wars as those from which the country had already suffered. England had devised this scheme, and was willing to do its share toward bringing it about; but there were many obstacles in the way, not the least of them, Prussia. France was another; but Germany itself, for that matter, furnished difficulties enough to relegate its accomplishment to the far-distant future.
The Empress, strongly as the plan appealed to her, was cautious and said little, but England continued to urge the matter with a persistence that excited some doubt as to the sincerity of its attitude toward Austria. At last its motives became apparent, and Maria Theresa abandoned any further consideration of the plan. This caused somewhat strained relations between the two countries. During the negotiations, moreover, England’s behavior was such that Kaunitz, in defence of the dignity of his sovereign, was forced to protest against it as inadmissible in diplomatic intercourse. His remonstrances were unheeded, however; and when it came to the question of affairs in the Netherlands, England’s communications and Austria’s replies became even more pointed. A complete rupture was inevitable, but Kaunitz would not permit matters to proceed as far as that until he had seen his way clear to a union with France.
His one idea, since he had been in power, was the recovery of Silesia, and as a means to that end he endeavored to come to an agreement with France and turn it to his advantage. He was shrewd enough to keep this plan a secret, as well as that other which went hand in hand with it, the humiliation of Prussia. That Maria Theresa, who had never ceased to grieve over the loss of Silesia, fully sympathized with these schemes cannot be doubted. The only hope of their realization, however, lay in separating Prussia from all her allies; and an alliance with France would be a long step in this direction. England and France at that time were on the verge of hostilities over the boundaries of Canada, and England had been endeavoring to involve France in a war with some of the European powers, so as to have a free hand in America. This, however, could not be accomplished without assistance; and, beside, there was Hanover to protect. The number of troops there had been increased, to be sure, but they were not sufficient to insure its safety. At this point England demanded to know how large a force Austria could raise in case France and Prussia should invade the Netherlands and Hanover.
Maria Theresa’s eyes were opened now, and she replied that she could not spare any troops from Bohemia without exposing it to danger from Prussia. She would furnish the twenty-five thousand men agreed upon, in the Netherlands, leaving England to take Reuss in payment and seek assistance from the sovereign princes of Germany. These terms of Maria Theresa’s were definite and final, but England further demanded that Austria should not only send thirty thousand men immediately to the Netherlands, but also an extra force to defend Hanover. This Maria Theresa refused to do, whereupon England threatened to break its alliance with Austria unless it complied with these demands. Maria Theresa then declared plainly what she should demand of England in return for the protection of her territory against Prussia and Italy. Before her answer had been sent, still more peremptory demands arrived from England; but Kaunitz made no reply to them. Matters had gone too far to avoid a breach any longer. England broke off negotiations with Austria and went over at once to the King of Prussia.
Frederick II had learned through a traitor at Dresden that a secret alliance existed against him between Austria and Saxony, to which Russia was a party. He therefore gladly accepted the overtures of England, since his union with France had come to an end, with little prospect of its renewal. The treaty between Maria Theresa and France was signed on the first of May, 1756.
Thus there had been a remarkable change in the relations of the European powers when the storm-clouds gathered once more and broke in the Seven Years’ War.