The queen convened her council, and then informed England, in most courteous phrase, that she could not accede to the proposition. The British cabinet immediately entered into a private arrangement with Prussia, guaranteeing to Frederic the possession of Silesia, in consideration of Prussia's agreement not to molest England's Hanoverian possessions.
Maria Theresa was exceedingly indignant when she became acquainted with this treaty. She sent peremptory orders to Prince Charles to prosecute hostilities with the utmost vigor, and with great energy dispatched reënforcements to his camp. The Hungarians, with their accustomed enthusiasm, flocked to the aid of the queen; and Frederic, pressed by superior numbers, retreated from Bohemia back to Silesia, pursued and pelted in his turn by the artillery of Prince Charles. But Frederic soon turned upon his foes, who almost surrounded him with double his own number of men. His army was compact and in the highest state of discipline. A scene of terrible carnage ensued, in which the Austrians, having lost four thousand in killed and two thousand taken prisoners, were utterly routed and scattered. The proud victor, gathering up his weakened battalions, one fourth of whom had been either killed or wounded in this short, fierce storm of war, continued his retreat unmolested.
While Maria Theresa, with such almost superhuman inflexibility, was pressing her own plans, the electoral diet of Germany was assembled at Frankfort, and Francis, Duke of Lorraine, was chosen emperor, with the title of Francis I. The queen was at Frankfort when the diet had assembled, and was plying all her energies in favor of her husband, while awaiting, with intense solicitude, the result of the election. When the choice was announced to her, she stepped out upon the balcony of the palace, and was the first to shout, "Long live the emperor, Francis I." The immense concourse assembled in the streets caught and reëchoed the cry. This result was exceedingly gratifying to the queen; she regarded it as a noble triumph, adding to the power and the luster of her house.
The duke, now the emperor, was at Heidelberg, with an army of sixty thousand men. The queen hastened to him with her congratulations. The emperor, no longer a submissive subject, received his queenly spouse with great dignity at the head of his army. The whole host was drawn up in two lines, and the queen rode between, bowing to the regiments on the right hand and the left, with majesty and grace which all admired.
Though the queen's treasury was so exhausted that she had been compelled to melt the church plate to pay her troops, she was now so elated that, regardless of the storms of winter, she resolved to send an army to Berlin, to chastise Frederic in his own capital, and there recover long lost Silesia. But Frederic was not thus to be caught napping. Informed of the plan, he succeeded in surprising the Austrian army, and dispersed them after the slaughter of five thousand men. The queen's troops, who had entered Silesia, were thus driven pell-mell back to Bohemia. The Prussian king then invaded Saxony, driving all before him. He took possession of the whole electorate, and entered Dresden, its capital, in triumph. This was a terrible defeat for the queen. Though she had often said that she would part with her last garment before she would consent to the surrender of Silesia, she felt now compelled to yield. Accepting the proffered mediation of England, on the 25th of December, 1745, she signed the treaty of Dresden, by which she left Silesia in the hands of Frederic. He agreed to withdraw his troops from Saxony, and to acknowledge the imperial title of Francis I.
England, in consequence of rebellion at home, had been compelled to withdraw her troops from the Netherlands; and France, advancing with great vigor, took fortress after fortress, until nearly all of the Low Countries had fallen into her hands. In Italy, however, the Austrians were successful, and Maria Theresa, having dispatched thirty thousand troops to their aid, cherished sanguine hopes that she might recover Milan and Naples. All the belligerent powers, excepting Maria Theresa, weary of the long war, were anxious for peace. She, however, still clung, with deathless tenacity, to her determination to recover Silesia, and to win provinces in Italy. England and France were equally desirous to sheathe the sword. France could only attack England in the Netherlands; England could only assail France in her marine. They were both successful. France drove England from the continent; England drove France from the ocean.
Notwithstanding the most earnest endeavors of the allies, Maria Theresa refused to listen to any terms of peace, and succeeded in preventing the other powers from coming to any accommodation. All parties, consequently, prepared for another campaign. Prussia entered into an alliance with Austria, by which she agreed to furnish her with thirty thousand troops. The queen made gigantic efforts to drive the French from the Netherlands. England and Holland voted an army of forty thousand each. The queen furnished sixty thousand; making an army of one hundred and forty thousand to operate in the Netherlands. At the same time the queen sent sixty thousand men to Italy, to be joined by forty-five thousand Sardinians. All the energies of the English fleet were also combined with these formidable preparations. Though never before during the war had such forces been brought into the field, the campaign was quite disastrous to Austria and her allies. Many bloody battles were fought, and many thousands perished in agony; but nothing of any importance was gained by either party. When winter separated the combatants, they retired exhausted and bleeding.
Again France made overtures for a general pacification, on terms which were eminently honorable. England was disposed to listen to those terms. But the queen had not yet accomplished her purposes, and she succeeded in securing the rejection of the proposals. Again the belligerents gathered their resources, with still increasing vigor, for another campaign. The British cabinet seemed now to be out of all patience with Maria Theresa. They accused her of not supplying the contingents she had promised, they threatened to withhold their subsidies, many bitter recriminations passed, but still the queen, undismayed by the contentions, urged forward her preparations for the new campaign, till she was thunderstruck with the tidings that the preliminaries of peace were already signed by England, France and Holland.
Maria Theresa received the first formal notification of the terms agreed to by the three contracting powers, from the English minister, Sir Thomas Robinson, who urged her concurrence in the treaty. The indignant queen could not refrain from giving free vent to her displeasure. Listening for a moment impatiently to his words, she overwhelmed him with a torrent of reproaches.
"You, sir," she exclaimed, "who had such a share in the sacrifice of Silesia; you, who contributed more than any one in procuring the cessions to Sardinia, do you still think to persuade me? No! I am neither a child nor a fool! If you will have an instant peace, make it. I can negotiate for myself. Why am I always to be excluded from transacting my own business? My enemies will give me better conditions than my friends. Place me where I was in Italy before the war; but your King of Sardinia must have all, without one thought for me. This treaty was not made for me, but for him, for him singly. Great God, how have I been used by that court! There is your King of Prussia! Indeed these circumstances tear open too many old wounds and create too many new ones. Agree to such a treaty as this!" she exclaimed indignantly. "No, no, I will rather lose my head."