The Second Silesian War
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.”
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.