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.