MARIA THERESA.
From 1739 to 1741.
Anguish of the King.--Letter to the Queen of Russia.--The imperial
Circular.--Deplorable Condition of Austria.--Death of Charles
VI.--Accession of Maria Theresa.--Vigorous Measures of the Queen.--Claim
of the Duke of Bavaria.--Responses from the Courts.--Coldness of the
French Court.--Frederic of Russia.--His Invasion of Silesia.--March of
the Austrians.--Battle of Molnitz.--Firmness of Maria Theresa.--Proposed
Division of Plunder.--Villainy of Frederic.--Interview with the
King.--Character of Frederic.--Commencement of the General Invasion.
Every intelligent man in Austria felt degraded by the peace which had
been made with the Turks. The tidings were received throughout the ranks
of the army with a general outburst of grief and indignation. The troops
intreated their officers to lead them against the foe, declaring that
they would speedily drive the Turks from Belgrade, which had been so
ignominiously surrendered. The populace of Vienna rose in insurrection,
and would have torn down the houses of the ministers who had recommended
the peace but for the interposition of the military. The emperor was
almost beside himself with anguish. He could not appease the clamors of
the nation. He was also in alliance with Russia, and knew not how to
meet the reproaches of the court of St. Petersburg for having so
needlessly surrendered the most important fortress on the Turkish
frontier. In an interview which he held with the Russian ambassador his
embarrassment was painful to witness. To the Queen of Russia he wrote in
terms expressive of the extreme agony of his mind, and, with
characteristic want of magnanimity cast the blame of the very measures
he had ordered upon the agents who had merely executed his will.
"While I am writing this letter," he said, "to your imperial majesty, my
heart is filled with the most excessive grief. I was much less touched
with the advantages gained by the enemy and the news of the siege of
Belgrade, than with the advice I have received concerning the shameful
preliminary articles concluded by Count Neuperg.
"The history of past ages exhibits no vestiges of such an event. I was
on the point of preventing the fatal and too hasty execution of these
preliminaries, when I heard that they were already partly executed, even
before the design had been communicated to me. Thus I see my hands tied
by those who ought to glory in obeying me. All who have approached me
since that fatal day, are so many witnesses of the excess of my grief.
Although I have many times experienced adversity, I never was so much
afflicted as by this event. Your majesty has a right to complain of some
who ought to have obeyed my orders; but I had no part in what they have
done. Though all the forces of the Ottoman empire were turned against me
I was not disheartened, but still did all in my power for the common
cause. I shall not, however, fail to perform in due time what avenging
justice requires. In this dismal series of misfortunes I have still one
comfort left, which is that the fault can not be thrown upon me. It lies
entirely on such of my officers as ratified the disgraceful
preliminaries without my knowledge, against my consent, and even
contrary to my express orders."
This apologetic letter was followed by a circular to all the imperial
ambassadors in the various courts of Europe, which circular was filled
with the bitterest denunciation of Count Neuperg and Marshal Wallis. It
declared that the emperor was not in any way implicated in the shameful
surrender of Belgrade. The marshal and the count, thus assailed and held
up to the scorn and execration of Europe, ventured to reply that they
had strictly conformed to their instructions. The common sense of the
community taught them that, in so rigorous and punctilious a court as
that of Vienna, no agent of the emperor would dare to act contrary to
his received instructions. Thus the infamous attempts of Charles to
brand his officers with ignominy did but rebound upon himself. The
almost universal voice condemned the emperor and acquitted the
plenipotentiaries.
While the emperor was thus filling all the courts of Europe with his
clamor against Count Neuperg, declaring that he had exceeded his powers
and that he deserved to be hung, he at the same time, with almost
idiotic fatuity, sent the same Count Neuperg back to the Turkish camp to
settle some items which yet required adjustment. This proved, to every
mind, the insincerity of Charles. The Russians, thus forsaken by
Austria, also made peace with the Turks. They consented to demolish
their fortress of Azof, to relinquish all pretensions to the right of
navigating the Black sea, and to allow a vast extent of territory upon
its northern shores to remain an uninhabited desert, as a barrier
between Russia and Turkey. The treaty being definitively settled, both
Marshal Wallis and Count Neuperg were arrested and sent to prison, where
they were detained until the death of Charles VI.
Care and sorrow were now hurrying the emperor to the grave. Wan and
haggard he moved about his palace, mourning his doom, and complaining
that it was his destiny to be disappointed in every cherished plan of
his life. All his affairs were in inextricable confusion, and his empire
seemed crumbling to decay. A cotemporary writer thus describes the
situation of the court and the nation:
"Every thing in this court is running into the last confusion and ruin;
where there are as visible signs of folly and madness, as ever were
inflicted upon a people whom Heaven is determined to destroy, no less by
domestic divisions, than by the more public calamities of repeated
defeats, defenselessness, poverty and plagues."
Early in October, 1740, the emperor, restless, and feverish in body and
mind, repaired to one of his country palaces a few miles distant from
Vienna. The season was prematurely cold and gloomy, with frost and
storms of sleet. In consequence of a chill the enfeebled monarch was
seized with an attack of the gout, which was followed by a very severe
fit of the colic. The night of the 10th of October he writhed in pain
upon his bed, while repeated vomitings weakened his already exhausted
frame. The next day he was conveyed to Vienna, but in such extreme
debility that he fainted several times in his carriage by the way.
Almost in a state of insensibility he was carried to the retired palace
of La Favourite in the vicinity of Vienna, and placed in his bed. It was
soon evident that his stormy life was now drawing near to its close.
Patiently he bore his severe sufferings, and as his physicians were
unable to agree respecting the nature of his disease, he said to them,
calmly,
"Cease your disputes. I shall soon be dead. You can then open my body
and ascertain the cause of my death."
Priests were admitted to his chamber who performed the last offices of
the Church for the dying. With perfect composure, he made all the
arrangements relative to the succession to the throne. One after another
the members of his family were introduced, and he affectionately bade
them adieu, giving to each appropriate words of counsel. To his
daughter, Maria Theresa, who was not present, and who was to succeed
him, he sent his earnest blessing. With the Duke of Lorraine, her
husband, he had a private interview of two hours. On the 20th of
October, 1740, at two o'clock in the morning, he died, in the
fifty-sixth year of his age, and the thirtieth of his reign. Weary of
the world, he willingly retired to the anticipated repose of the grave.
"To die,--to sleep;--
To sleep! perchance to dream;--ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause."
By the death of Charles VI. the male line of the house of Hapsburg
became extinct, after having continued in uninterrupted succession for
over four hundred years. His eldest daughter, Maria Theresa, who now
succeeded to the crown of Austria, was twenty-four years of age. Her
figure was tall, graceful and commanding. Her features were beautiful,
and her smile sweet and winning. She was born to command, combining in
her character woman's power of fascination with man's energy. Though so
far advanced in pregnancy that she was not permitted to see her dying
father, the very day after his death she so rallied her energies as to
give an audience to the minister of state, and to assume the government
with that marvelous vigor which characterized her whole reign.
Seldom has a kingdom been in a more deplorable condition than was
Austria on the morning when the scepter passed into the hands of Maria
Theresa. There were not forty thousand dollars in the treasury; the
state was enormously in debt; the whole army did not amount to more than
thirty thousand men, widely dispersed, clamoring for want of pay, and
almost entirely destitute of the materials for war. The vintage had been
cut off by the frost, producing great distress in the country. There was
a famine in Vienna, and many were starving for want of food. The
peasants, in the neighborhood of the metropolis, were rising in
insurrection, ravaging the fields in search of game; while rumors were
industriously circulated that the government was dissolved, that the
succession was disputed, and that the Duke of Bavaria was on the march,
with an army, to claim the crown. The distant provinces were anxious to
shake off the Austrian yoke. Bohemia was agitated; and the restless
barons of Hungary were upon the point of grasping their arms, and, under
the protection of Turkey, of claiming their ancestral hereditary rights.
Notwithstanding the untiring endeavors of the emperor to obtain the
assent of Europe to the Pragmatic Sanction, many influential courts
refused to recognize the right of Maria Theresa to the crown. The
ministers were desponding, irresolute and incapable. Maria Theresa was
young, quite inexperienced and in delicate health, being upon the eve of
her confinement. The English ambassador, describing the state of affairs
in Vienna as they appeared to him at this time, wrote:
"To the ministers, the Turks seem to be already in Hungary; the
Hungarians in insurrection; the Bohemians in open revolt; the Duke of
Bavaria, with his army, at the gates of Vienna; and France the soul of
all these movements. The ministers were not only in despair, but that
despair even was not capable of rousing them to any desperate
exertions."
Maria Theresa immediately dispatched couriers to inform the northern
powers of her accession to the crown, and troops were forwarded to the
frontiers to prevent any hostile invasion from Bavaria. The Duke of
Bavaria claimed the Austrian crown in virtue of the will of Ferdinand
I., which, he affirmed, devised the crown to his daughters and their
descendants in case of the failure of the male line. As the male line
was now extinct, by this decree the scepter would pass to the Duke of
Bavaria. Charles VI. had foreseen this claim, and endeavored to set it
aside by the declaration that the clause referred to in the will of
Ferdinand I. had reference to _legitimate heirs_, not _male_ merely, and
that, consequently, it did not set aside female descendants. In proof of
this, Maria Theresa had the will exhibited to all the leading officers
of state, and to the foreign ambassadors. It appeared that _legitimate
heirs_ was the phrase. And now the question hinged upon the point,
whether females were _legitimate heirs_. In some kingdoms of Europe they
were; in others they were not. In Austria the custom had been variable.
Here was a nicely-balanced question, sufficiently momentous to divide
Europe, and which might put all the armies of the continent in motion.
There were also other claimants for the crown, but none who could
present so plausible a plea as that of the Duke of Bavaria.
Maria Theresa now waited with great anxiety for the reply she should
receive from the foreign powers whom she had notified of her accession.
The Duke of Bavaria was equally active and solicitous, and it was quite
uncertain whose claim would be supported by the surrounding courts. The
first response came from Prussia. The king sent his congratulations, and
acknowledged the title of Maria Theresa. This was followed by a letter
from Augustus of Poland, containing the same friendly recognition.
Russia then sent in assurances of cordial support. The King of England
returned a friendly answer, promising coöperation. All this was
cheering. But France was then the great power on the continent, and
could carry with her one half of Europe in almost any cause. The
response was looked for from France with great anxiety. Day after day,
week after week passed, and no response came. At length the French
Secretary of State gave a cautious and merely verbal declaration of the
friendly disposition of the French court. Cardinal Fleury, the
illustrious French Secretary of State, was cold, formal and excessively
polite. Maria Theresa at once inferred that France withheld her
acknowledgment, merely waiting for a favorable opportunity to recognize
the claims of the Duke of Bavaria.
While matters were in this state, to the surprise of all, Frederic, King
of Prussia, drew his sword, and demanded large and indefinite portions
of Austria to be annexed to his territories. Disdaining all appeal to
any documentary evidence, and scorning to reply to any questionings as
to his right, he demanded vast provinces, as a highwayman demands one's
purse, with the pistol at his breast. This fiery young prince,
inheriting the most magnificent army in Europe, considering its
discipline and equipments, was determined to display his gallantry as a
fighter, with Europe for the arena. As he was looking about to find some
suitable foe against which he could hurl his seventy-five thousand men,
the defenseless yet large and opulent duchy of Silesia presented itself
as a glittering prize worth the claiming by a royal highwayman.
The Austrian province of Silesia bordered a portion of Prussia. "While
treacherously professing friendship with the court of Vienna, with great
secrecy and sagacity Frederic assembled a large force of his best troops
in the vicinity of Berlin, and in mid-winter, when the snow lay deep
upon the plains, made a sudden rush into Silesia, and, crushing at a
blow all opposition, took possession of the whole duchy. Having
accomplished this feat, he still pretended great friendship for Maria
Theresa, and sent an ambassador to inform her that he was afraid that
some of the foreign powers, now conspiring against her, might seize the
duchy, and thus wrest it from her; that he had accordingly taken it to
hold it in safety; and that since it was so very important, for the
tranquillity of his kingdom, that Silesia should not fall into the hands
of an enemy, he hoped that Maria Theresa would allow him to retain the
duchy as an indemnity for the expense he had been at in taking it."
This most extraordinary and impertinent message was accompanied by a
threat. The ambassador of the Prussian king, a man haughty and
semi-barbaric in his demeanor, gave his message in a private interview
with the queen's husband, Francis, the Duke of Lorraine. In conclusion,
the ambassador added, "No one is more firm in his resolutions than the
King of Prussia. He must and will take Silesia. If not secured by the
immediate cession of that province, his troops and money will be offered
to the Duke of Bavaria."
"Go tell your master," the Duke of Lorraine replied with dignity, "that
while he has a single soldier in Silesia, we will rather perish than
enter into any discussion. If he will evacuate the duchy, we will treat
with him at Berlin. For my part, not for the imperial crown, nor even
for the whole world, will I sacrifice one inch of the queen's lawful
possessions."
While these negotiations were pending, the king himself made an
ostentatious entry into Silesia. The majority of the Silesians were
Protestants. The King of Prussia, who had discarded religion of all
kinds, had of course discarded that of Rome, and was thus nominally a
Protestant. The Protestants, who had suffered so much from the
persecutions of the Catholic church, had less to fear from the
infidelity of Berlin than from the fanaticism of Rome. Frederic was
consequently generally received with rejoicings. The duchy of Silesia
was indeed a desirable prize. Spreading over a region of more than
fifteen thousand square miles, and containing a population of more than
a million and a half, it presented to its feudal lord an ample revenue
and the means of raising a large army. Breslau, the capital of the
duchy, upon the Oder, contained a population of over eighty thousand.
Built upon several islands of that beautiful stream, its situation was
attractive, while in its palaces and its ornamental squares, it vied
with the finest capitals of Europe.
Frederic entered the city in triumph in January, 1741. The small
Austrian garrison, consisting of but three thousand men, retired before
him into Moravia. The Prussian monarch took possession of the revenues
of the duchy, organized the government under his own officers,
garrisoned the fortresses and returned to Berlin. Maria Theresa appealed
to friendly courts for aid. Most of them were lavish in promises, but
she waited in vain for any fulfillment. Neither money, arms nor men were
sent to her. Maria Theresa, thus abandoned and thrown upon her own
unaided energies, collected a small army in Moravia, on the confines of
Silesia, and intrusted the command to Count Neuperg, whom she liberated
from the prison to which her father had so unjustly consigned him. But
it was mid-winter. The roads were almost impassable. The treasury of the
Austrian court was so empty that but meager supplies could be provided
for the troops. A ridge of mountains, whose defiles were blocked up with
snow, spread between Silesia and Moravia.
It was not until the close of March that Marshal Neuperg was able to
force his way through these defiles and enter Silesia. The Prussians,
not aware of their danger, were reposing in their cantonments. Neuperg
hoped to take them by surprise and cut them off in detail. Indeed
Frederic, who, by chance, was at Jagerndorf inspecting a fortress, was
nearly surrounded by a party of Austrian hussars, and very narrowly
escaped capture. The ground was still covered with snow as the Austrian
troops toiled painfully through the mountains to penetrate the Silesian
plains. Frederic rapidly concentrated his scattered troops to meet the
foe. The warlike character of the Prussian king was as yet undeveloped,
and Neuperg, unconscious of the tremendous energies he was to encounter,
and supposing that the Prussian garrisons would fly in dismay before
him, was giving his troops, after their exhausting march, a few days of
repose in the Vicinity of Molnitz.
On the 8th of April there was a thick fall of snow, filling the air and
covering the fields. Frederic availed himself of the storm, which
curtained him from all observation, to urge forward his troops, that he
might overwhelm the Austrians by a fierce surprise. While Neuperg was
thus resting, all unconscious of danger, twenty-seven battalions,
consisting of sixteen thousand men, and twenty-nine squadrons of horse,
amounting to six thousand, were, in the smothering snow, taking their
positions for battle. On the morning of the 10th the snow ceased to
fall, the clouds broke, and the sun came out clear and bright, when
Neuperg saw that another and a far more fearful storm had gathered, and
that its thunderbolts were about to be hurled into the midst of his
camp.
The Prussian batteries opened their fire, spreading death through the
ranks of the Austrians, even while they were hastily forming in line of
battle. Still the Austrian veterans, accustomed to all the vicissitudes
of war, undismayed, rapidly threw themselves into columns and rushed
upon the foe. Fiercely the battle raged hour after hour until the middle
of the afternoon, when the field was covered with the dead and crimsoned
with blood. The Austrians, having lost three thousand in slain and two
thousand in prisoners, retired in confusion, surrendering the field,
with several guns and banners, to the victors. This memorable battle
gave Silesia to Prussia, and opened the war of the Austrian succession.
The Duke of Lorraine was greatly alarmed by the threatening attitude
which affairs now assumed. It was evident that France, Prussia, Bavaria
and many other powers were combining against Austria, to rob her of her
provinces, and perhaps to dismember the kingdom entirely. Not a single
court as yet had manifested any disposition to assist Maria Theresa.
England urged the Austrian court to buy the peace of Prussia at almost
any price. Francis, Duke of Lorraine, was earnestly for yielding, and
intreated his wife to surrender a part for the sake of retaining the
rest. "We had better," he said, "surrender Silesia to Prussia, and thus
purchase peace with Frederic, than meet the chances of so general a war
as now threatens Austria."
But Maria Theresa was as imperial in character and as indomitable in
spirit as Frederic of Prussia. With indignation she rejected all such
counsel, declaring that she would never cede one inch of her territories
to any claimant, and that, even if her allies all abandoned her, she
would throw herself upon her subjects and upon her armies, and perish,
if need be, in defense of the integrity of Austria.
Frederic now established his court and cabinet at the camp of Molnitz.
Couriers were ever coming and going. Envoys from France and Bavaria were
in constant secret conference with him. France, jealous of the power of
Austria, was plotting its dismemberment, even while protesting
friendship. Bavaria was willing to unite with Prussia in seizing the
empire and in dividing the spoil. These courts seemed to lay no claim to
any higher morality than that of ordinary highwaymen. The doom of Maria
Theresa was apparently sealed. Austria was to be plundered. Other
parties now began to rush in with their claims, that they might share in
the booty. Philip V. of Spain put in his claim for the Austrian crown as
the lineal descendant of the Emperor Charles V. Augustus, King of
Poland, urged the right of his wife Maria, eldest daughter of Joseph.
And even Charles Emanuel, King of Sardinia, hunted up an obsolete claim,
through the line of the second daughter of Philip II.
At the camp of Molnitz the plan was matured of giving Bohemia and Upper
Austria to the Duke of Bavaria. Frederic of Prussia was to receive Upper
Silesia and Glatz. Augustus of Poland was to annex to his kingdom
Moravia and Upper Silesia. Lombardy was assigned to Spain. Sardinia was
to receive some compensation not yet fully decided upon. The whole
transaction was a piece of as unmitigated villainy as ever transpired.
One can not but feel a little sympathy for Austria which had thus fallen
among thieves, and was stripped and bleeding. Our sympathies are,
however, somewhat alleviated by the reflection that Austria was just as
eager as any of the other powers for any such piratic expedition, and
that, soon after, she united with Russia and Prussia in plundering
Poland. And when Poland was dismembered by a trio of regal robbers, she
only incurred the same doom which she was now eager to inflict upon
Austria. When pirates and robbers plunder each other, the victims are
not entitled to much sympathy. To the masses of the people it made but
little difference whether their life's blood was wrung from them by
Russian, Prussian or Austrian despots. Under whatever rule they lived,
they were alike doomed to toil as beasts of burden in the field, or to
perish amidst the hardships and the carnage of the camp.
These plans were all revealed to Maria Theresa, and with such a
combination of foes so powerful, it seemed as if no earthly wisdom could
avert her doom. But her lofty spirit remained unyielding, and she
refused all offers of accommodation based upon the surrender of any
portion of her territories. England endeavored to induce Frederic to
consent to take the duchy of Glogau alone, suggesting that thus his
Prussian majesty had it in his power to conclude an honorable peace, and
to show his magnanimity by restoring tranquillity to Europe.
"At the beginning of the war," Frederic replied, "I might perhaps have
been contented with this proposal. At present I must have four duchies.
But do not," he exclaimed, impatiently, "talk to me of _magnanimity_. A
prince must consult his own interests. I am not averse to peace; but I
want four duchies, and I will have them."
Frederic of Prussia was no hypocrite. He was a highway robber and did
not profess to be any thing else. His power was such that instead of
demanding of the helpless traveler his watch, he could demand of
powerful nations their revenues. If they did not yield to his demands he
shot them down without compunction, and left them in their blood. The
British minister ventured to ask what four duchies Frederic intended to
take. No reply could be obtained to this question. By the four duchies
he simply meant that he intended to extend the area of Prussia over
every inch of territory he could possibly acquire, either by fair means
or by foul.
England, alarmed by these combinations, which it was evident that France
was sagaciously forming and guiding, and from the successful prosecution
of which plans it was certain that France would secure some immense
accession of power, granted to Austria a subsidy of one million five
hundred thousand dollars, to aid her in repelling her foes. Still the
danger from the grand confederacy became so imminent, that the Duke of
Lorraine and all the Austrian ministry united with the British
ambassador, in entreating Maria Theresa to try to break up the
confederacy and purchase peace with Prussia by offering Frederic the
duchy of Glogau. With extreme reluctance the queen at length yielded to
these importunities, and consented that an envoy should take the
proposal to the Prussian camp at Molnitz. As the envoy was about to
leave he expressed some apprehension that the Prussian king might reject
the proffer.
"I wish he may reject it," exclaimed the queen, passionately. "It would
be a relief to my conscience. God only knows how I can answer to my
subjects for the cession of the duchy, having sworn to them never to
alienate any part of our country."
Mr. Robinson, the British ambassador, as mediator, took these terms to
the Prussian camp. In the endeavor to make as good a bargain as
possible, he was first to offer Austrian Guelderland. If that failed he
was then to offer Limburg, a province of the Netherlands, containing
sixteen hundred square miles, and if this was not accepted, he was
authorized, as the ultimatum, to consent to the cession of the duchy of
Glogau. The Prussian king received the ambassadors, on the 5th of
August, in a large tent, in his camp at Molanitz. The king was a blunt,
uncourtly man, and the interview was attended with none of the amenities
of polished life. After a few desultory remarks, the British ambassador
opened the business by saying that he was authorized by the Queen of
Austria to offer, as the basis of peace, the cession to Prussia of
Austrian Guelderland.
"What a beggarly offer," exclaimed the king. "This is extremely
impertinent. What! nothing but a paltry town for all my just pretensions
in Silesia!"
In this tirade of passion, either affected or real, he continued for
some time. Mr. Robinson waited patiently until this outburst was
exhausted, and then hesitatingly remarked that the queen was so anxious
to secure the peace of Europe, that if tranquillity could not be
restored on other terms she was even willing to cede to Prussia, in
addition, the province of Limburg.
"Indeed!" said the ill-bred, clownish king, contemptuously. "And how can
the queen think of violating her solemn oath which renders every inch of
the Low Countries inalienable. I have no desire to obtain distant
territory which will be useless to me; much less do I wish to expend
money in new fortification. Neither the French nor the Dutch have
offended me; and I do not wish to offend them, by acquiring territory in
the vicinity of their realms. If I should accept Limburg, what security
could I have that I should be permitted to retain it?"
The ambassador replied, "England, Russia and Saxony, will give their
guaranty."
"Guaranties," rejoined the king, sneeringly. "Who, in these times, pays
any regard to pledges? Have not both England and France pledged
themselves to support the Pragmatic Sanction? Why do they not keep their
promises? The conduct of these powers is ridiculous. They only do what
is for their own interests. As for me, I am at the head of an invincible
army. I want Silesia. I have taken it, and I intend to keep it. What
kind of a reputation should I have if I should abandon the first
enterprise of my reign? No! I will sooner be crushed with my whole army,
than renounce my rights in Silesia. Let those who want peace grant me my
demands. If they prefer to fight again, they can do so, and again be
beaten."
Mr. Robinson ventured to offer a few soothing words to calm the
ferocious brute, and then proposed to give to him Glogau, a small but
rich duchy of about six hundred square miles, near the frontiers of
Prussia.
Frederic rose in a rage, and with loud voice and threatening gestures,
exclaimed,
"If the queen does not, within six weeks, yield to my demands, I will
double them. Return with this answer to Vienna. They who want peace with
me, will not oppose my wishes. I am sick of ultimatums; I will hear no
more of them. I demand Silesia. This is my final answer. I will give no
other."
Then turning upon his heel, with an air of towering indignation, he
retired behind the inner curtain of his tent. Such was the man to whom
Providence, in its inscrutable wisdom, had assigned a throne, and a
highly disciplined army of seventy-five thousand men. To northern Europe
he proved an awful scourge, inflicting woes, which no tongue can
adequately tell.
And now the storm of war seemed to commence in earnest. The Duke of
Bavaria issued a manifesto, declaring his right to the whole Austrian
inheritance, and pronouncing Maria Theresa a usurper. He immediately
marched an army into one of the provinces of Austria. At the same time,
two French armies were preparing to cross the Rhine to cooperate with
the Bavarian troops. The King of Prussia was also on the march,
extending his conquests. Still Maria Theresa remained inflexible,
refusing to purchase peace with Prussia by the surrender of Silesia.
"The resolution of the queen is taken," she said. "If the House of
Austria must perish, it is indifferent whether it perishes by an Elector
of Bavaria, or by an Elector of Brandenburg."
While these all important matters were under discussion, the queen, on
the 13th of March, gave birth to a son, the Archduke Joseph. This event
strengthened the queen's resolution, to preserve, not only for herself,
but for her son and heir, the Austrian empire in its integrity. From her
infancy she had imbibed the most exalted ideas of the dignity and
grandeur of the house of Hapsburg. She had also been taught that her
inheritance was a solemn trust which she was religiously bound to
preserve. Thus religious principle, family pride and maternal love all
now combined to increase the inflexibility of a will which by nature was
indomitable.