(1717-1780)
[Footnote 1: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]
[Illustration: Maria Theresa. [TN]]
Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria, was born May 13, 1717, daughter
of Charles VI. of the house of Hapsburg--ruling Austria for more than
four hundred years--and of Elizabeth of Brunswick. From her father she
inherited the "deadly Hapsburg tenacity," and from her mother much good
sense and capacity for managing affairs, all of which stood her in good
stead. She was especially fortunate in three things: that she lived in
the time of Frederick the Great of Prussia, for thus she had given to
her a chance to know of what stuff she was made; that she did not marry
him, as was proposed by the great Eugene; and that she did not live to
see the beautiful head of her daughter, Marie Antoinette, fall under the
guillotine. Though the court of Charles VI. rivalled in ceremonial
observance that of Spain, the little archduchess was reared in almost
Spartan simplicity of dress and food. From Jesuit text-books she learned
her history and geography, and she spoke several languages, none of
which, however, could she ever write or spell quite correctly. But
chiefly she was taught the pre-eminent dignity and power of the
Hapsburgs, and the necessary indivisibility of the Austrian state. She
learned to hunt, to shoot, and to dance, and at suppers of state she and
her little sister were sometimes allowed to present to their stately
mother her gloves and fan when the emperor rose. She had an aversion to
business and great diffidence of her own capacity, and though the
emperor took her to the council of state at the time of the Polish
election, when she was only sixteen, he yet failed to give her any real
knowledge of the commonest forms of business. In this austere court,
never seeing a smile on her father's face, she grew up, "the prettiest
little maiden in the world," to a radiant woman, heir-expectant to the
throne by virtue of the Pragmatic Sanction, an order of state by means
of which the Emperor Charles VI. had undertaken to settle the Austrian
succession.
At nineteen she was "beautiful to soul and eye," tall and slight, with
brilliant complexion, sparkling gray eyes, and a profusion of golden
wavy hair. She had an aquiline nose,--strange to say for a Hapsburg, an
exceedingly lovely mouth,--and very beautiful hands and arms. Her voice
was sharp but musical, and her quick speech and animated gestures
betrayed an ardent and impetuous nature, though she never lost her high
and dignified bearing. Her anger was easily roused, but never lasted
long, especially when a fault had been committed against herself, and
when she knew that she had been too angry she tried to atone by
overflowing kindness. She needed only to be convinced that a thing was
wrong, to give it up. Whatever she did she did with her whole heart, and
gratitude was one of her strongest characteristics. Withal she kept a
constant and steadfast soul, and her nature was delicate and refined;
she was a worthy sister of Isabella of Castile. At nineteen, largely
through her own persistence, she escaped being made a sacrifice to the
political needs of Austria in being given to the heir of Philip V. of
Spain, and married the man of her choice, Francis Stephen, the grandson
of that Duke of Lorraine who, in 1683, together with John Sobieski, King
of Poland, had saved Vienna from the Turks. Her husband was of comely
person and suave manners, kind-hearted, though not strong nor brilliant.
To him she bore five sons and eleven daughters. She was looking forward
to the birth of her eldest son, when, at the age of twenty-three,
October 20, 1740, she was proclaimed by the heralds Sovereign
Archduchess of Austria, Queen of Hungary and Bohemia, for her father lay
dead in Vienna, and all the cares and anxieties of government had fallen
upon her shoulders. Austria was not one nation, but composed of many
differing and scattered peoples jealous of their ancient rights, among
whom there could be no sense of unity, and in his many disastrous wars
her father had lost several of its possessions. There was the depression
of defeat and mismanagement among the state-counsellors, there were only
$65,000 in the treasury, and an army of but 68,000 soldiers. The powers
that had given in their adhesion to the Pragmatic Sanction were tardily
and but half acknowledging her succession, and from France she could get
nothing but dissimulation and uncertainty. On November 1st the young
royal wife was joyfully and peacefully creating her husband Grand Master
of the Order of the Golden Fleece, and co-regent, and conferring upon
him the Bohemian electoral vote. In less than six weeks from that day
the Elector of Bavaria had laid formal claim to her throne, Frederick of
Prussia had marched his troops into Silesia, one of her finest
provinces, calling it his own, and the war of the Austrian Succession
was on for seven long years; for the high, heroic heart would not yield
one inch, and the sovereign ruler of Austria had met with fine Hapsburg
scorn the insulting proposition of the King of Prussia that he would
gladly support her right to the throne of her ancestors, provided she
would resign to his obliging majesty the whole of Silesia.
The aged counsellors who took it upon themselves to dictate to the young
and inexperienced ruler soon found out their mistake. The little girl
who had displayed an aversion for business was now a woman with talent
for its details, only eager for instruction in order to make up her own
mind. The army must be increased and improved, and the people aroused to
enthusiasm, if Frederick was to be checked. And it was not Frederick
alone that was to be feared, for a great coalition of European powers
was formed against her, and she had but England and Saxony to depend on
for help, while the enemy was already within her dominions. March 13,
1741, her son Joseph was born, and by September 11th the young mother
was in Hungary to urge its people to come to the aid of the threatened
country in its extremity. In deep mourning and still pale and delicate,
holding the little archduke in her arms, her appeal to the Hungarian
nobles roused them to lofty enthusiasm and gained their unswerving
devotion. She never forgot this, and when she lay dying, spoke of them
with grateful affection. The war went on with varying fortunes, but she
kept heart and hope, though by the end of 1741 the powers were plotting
the partition of Austria as a probable event. By 1743 the luck had
changed; the Austrian army had redeemed itself, and Maria Theresa was
fancying that she should be able to conquer Prussia. It was about this
time that she began greatly to rely on Kaunitz, who afterward became
Prime Minister, and who shaped for all the after-years of her reign the
policy of her rule. The old ministers left her by her father were not
able to meet the new difficulties, and the sovereign was often in great
anxiety amid conflicting and hesitating counsels, for it was nothing
less than the very existence of the country that was at stake. She was
thirty-one years old when the war came to an end by the peace of
Aix-la-Chapelle, the particulars of which were entrusted to Kaunitz
while he was ambassador at London. By that treaty Maria Theresa gained
the final guarantee of the Pragmatic Sanction, though she had to cede
two of her Italian duchies to the Spanish Bourbons, and Glatz and the
much-desired Silesia to the "bad neighbor," as she always called
Frederick. She was twenty-eight when she had the pleasure of seeing her
husband elected Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, gaining as his wife
the title of empress, and being thus often spoken of as the
empress-queen.
The war was over, but she knew full well that it was only for a short
time, and she spent the eight years of restless peace that followed, in
the most unremitting efforts to enable her country to endure the next
attack. She had proved that she could create heroes out of common men;
she was now to extort praise even from Frederick of Prussia for
"accomplishing designs worthy of a great man." A military academy was
created at Vienna; order and economy were brought into the treasury and
the army; she established camps of instruction and went herself to visit
them, recompensing brave officers, calling forth abilities and
emulation. The Department of Justice was disjoined from that of the
Police, a superior court was established, and the direction of the
finances given to a special council, reporting every week to the
empress. She often consulted men who were not in office upon matters of
policy, and thus got many valuable suggestions. Meantime Kaunitz was
ambassador at Paris, and had been bending all his efforts to secure a
French alliance, which seemed to him of so much importance that he even
induced his royal mistress to write to the Pompadour with a view to
securing the influence of Louis XV. in the impending war. This was not
the only time that Maria Theresa sacrificed the woman in her to the
ruler, for though above all breath of scandal, and devotedly attached to
husband and children, she never forgot that she was Austria, and must
maintain her inheritance. Then came on the Seven Years' War, in which
she had as allies almost all Europe, though at its close she had to give
up the last hope of ever regaining Silesia, which was as dear to her as
Calais to Mary of England, Frederick agreeing to vote for Joseph as
successor to his father as emperor. It was in this war, after the
victory of Kolin, that she founded the military order of Maria Theresa,
the beautiful cross of which is still the highest and most coveted
Austrian decoration. At the end of the war she was forty-six years old,
and it was only two years after, August 18, 1765, that she herself made
the shroud for her husband, and put on the mourning which was to last
for fifteen years. Ever after that she spent in seclusion the whole
month of August and the 18th of every other month, thus breaking the
routine of her busy days. I give in brief the account of one of these:
Rising at five or six, according to the season, prayer, dressing,
hearing mass, breakfast, work till nine on petitions and reports, a
second mass, a visit to her children, more work till dinner at one, and
again work. This she was apt to do in a sentinel-guarded arbor to which
she would go from the palace, carrying despatches and papers in a tray
slung by a cord round her neck. Vespers at six, an evening card-party,
supper, a walk at eight, and then sleep. After the death of Francis she
made her son Joseph joint-ruler, but soon found herself obliged to limit
his authority to the care of the army. At fifty the small-pox greatly
marred her beauty, though she was now at the age when the constant
beauty of soul of her life shone fair on the lofty face. When she was
fifty-three she bade good-by to the little fifteen-years-old Marie
Antoinette, going, as she hoped, to assure the alliance of France, never
to see her again. To her for the rest of Maria Theresa's life, as to the
other married daughters, went a courier every three weeks with letters,
which have been preserved, and may still be read for knowledge of the
mother and empress. At fifty-five Maria Theresa became a party to the
partition of Poland, and because this transaction is regarded as a blot
upon her character, I give in full the words which she sent to Kaunitz
when she returned to him the signed agreement. She was then fifty-five
years old, and keen memories of 1741 and of her young life must have
stirred the trembling pen as she wrote on it: "_Placet_, because so many
great and learned men wish it; but when I have been long dead, people
will see what must come from the violation of everything that until now
has been deemed holy and right." And then on a slip of paper sent with
the document stood these words: "When all my countries were attacked,
and I no longer knew where I might go quietly to lie in, I stood stiff
on my good right and the help of God. But in this affair, when not only
clear justice cries to Heaven against us, but also all fairness and
common-sense condemn us, I must confess that all the days of my life I
have never felt so troubled, and I am ashamed to show myself before the
people. Let the prince consider what an example we give to the world,
when, for a miserable slice of Poland or of Moldavia and Wallachia, we
risk the loss of our honor and reputation. I feel that I am alone, and
no longer in health and strength; and therefore, although not without my
greatest sorrow I allow matters to take their own course."
The heaviest burdens and greatest trials of her life were now over. The
fruit of her careful plans was beginning to be reaped in prosperity, and
a long period of tranquillity had come. She turned all her attention to
reforms: academies were established, among others one for the education
of the Magyar noble youth in Vienna, that these might become the more
surely incorporated with the Austrian system. The public schools were
reconstituted, the monasteries reformed, and no longer allowed to
furnish asylums for criminals. Priests were forbidden to be present at
the making of wills, and the Inquisition was suppressed. Through most
convincing efforts on the part of Kaunitz, the Jesuits had been finally
expelled from the country. Agriculture, trade, and commerce were
encouraged, though by the advice of England the navy was given up.
Inoculation for the small-pox was introduced, and a hospital for its
treatment, as well as a home for veteran soldiers, built in Vienna. When
she was sixty, the war of the Bavarian Succession was happily ended, in
opposition to the will of Joseph, by her most untiring efforts.
Servitude and the torture had been abolished; the taxes, on a better
basis, were bringing in large returns; a standing army had been created,
the monarchy lifted and strengthened, and the court and the people stood
together against oppression from the aristocracy. Austria had been
carried from the Middle Ages into modern times, and was no longer a
conglomeration but a nation.
Maria Theresa had reached the age of sixty-three when the brave
religious spirit, over which flattery had had no power, was waiting in
pain and anguish but not in fear the hour of its release. The generous
and open hand could no longer give; the heart so keenly sensitive to
criticism was to dread it no more; the eyes that, as she had written to
Marie Antoinette, had shed so many relieving tears were nevermore to
need that relief. "You are all so timid," she said, "I am not afraid of
death. I only pray to God to give me strength to the end." She did not
forget Poland, she gratefully remembered Hungary, and then, with the
cry, "To Thee! I am coming!" she sank back dead, in the arms of the son
whom, as a little baby, she had held up in her brave arms to plead for
the loyalty of the Hungarian nobles. The high imperial heart had ceased
to beat, the house of Hapsburg had come to an end, and Joseph II., of
the house of Hapsburg-Lorraine, was the sovereign ruler of Austria.
[Signature of the author.]