One plan had been suggested to her which, viewed in the light of subsequent events, must have made a strong impression on her mind. When the question of choosing a consort for the Emperor’s beautiful and promising daughter had been uppermost, Prince Eugene of Savoy proposed a union with the Crown Prince Frederick of Prussia, he who afterward deservedly won for himself the title of “the Great”; and with his wonderful foresight and sagacity—indeed, it would almost seem with a prophetic vision of the future—strongly urged the execution of his plan. He did not succeed in uniting these two great hearts and minds, yet it shows how free from prejudice the great hero was. How different might the history of Europe have been had this dream of the knightly hero been realized! How far-reaching the consequences, extending even to our own times! How much, alas! that must be lamented, might Germany perhaps have been spared! But it was otherwise decreed in that high tribunal which rules all human affairs and speaks the irrevocable words,—“Thus Shall It Be!”
Maria Theresa was not yet twenty-four years old when she ascended the throne. She, whose insight was so clear and judgment so unerring, could not disguise from herself that her task was a hard one. The gravity of it was ever present before her, but she never allowed herself to be cast down or discouraged. She was ill, too, when the Emperor closed his eyes upon the troubles of this world, and sorrow for her honored father, together with the magnitude of her undertaking, lay heavily upon her heart; but with a devout glance to heaven, a fervent prayer for help to the source of all strength and courage, her lofty spirit rose again with the consciousness of divine aid and a firm resolve to fulfil the duties that had been imposed upon her. The leaders who should have been a support to her were more overcome by the Emperor’s death than the devoted daughter who was able to conquer her grief so heroically, and she was compelled to take the lead, and revive their faltering spirits by her powerful will and lofty courage.
She had chosen for her motto one that she lived up to in thought and deed from the first to the last day of her reign, and of which all her acts and ideas bore the impress, namely, Justitia et Clementia, or, in English, “Justice and Clemency.” There was very soon a brilliant illustration of the latter quality. It was a time of want and distress for the poor, and one of the first acts of her reign was to throw open the well-filled imperial granaries and induce the great lords in her dominions to do the same. Is it any wonder that the people loved her with an enthusiastic devotion, and revered her as an angel sent to them from God? A second act, which quickly followed, completed this impression and strengthened its effect. Large herds of deer had been allowed to overrun the country and become a scourge to the industrious peasants, who were compelled to look on quietly while the animals, protected by law, grazed without hindrance over their cultivated fields, or suffer the heaviest penalties if they resisted. During the preceding year it had been the cause of an uprising in Styria, and the leaders of the rebellion had been condemned to death. Here were two great wrongs to be redressed, and the Empress did not hesitate to use the proper means. She caused the deer to be shot and their flesh publicly sold at the lowest prices, and pardoned those under sentence of death in Styria, but at the same time did not allow the insurgents to escape without any punishment. Her motto, “Justice and Clemency,” had become the rule of her life, and it was thus she entered upon her lofty and difficult sphere of action, with the God of justice and clemency ever before her eyes and in her heart.
That many reforms were necessary was everywhere made clear by the pressure of obsolete customs and ideas; but that they could be effected so promptly and thoroughly was more than any one had dared to hope. How could it have been expected that a woman, however wise, talented, and full of lofty aims, should understand the condition of the country well enough to decide at once upon the changes that were necessary, and be able to lay her hand upon the proper means for bringing them about?
The surprising fact, however, was brought to light that the young ruler was fully acquainted with the state of affairs in her realm and with the causes of the principal evils, which astonished the people as much as it did her ministers, to whom she had already revealed this unsuspected sagacity and penetration at their first conference, thereby causing some uneasiness to agitate the old gentlemen’s powdered wigs and make them anxious to assist her in her reforms.
Maria Theresa already had realized the force of the advice Prince Eugene had so strongly urged upon her father. The army was utterly demoralized; the officers had unlimited leave of absence, and frequently lived in Vienna or anywhere they chose, except with their regiments and in their quarters. So it was like a thunderbolt to them when the young Empress issued orders for the immediate return of all officers to their regiments, and for the army to be increased and placed upon such a footing that a sudden outbreak of war should not find it unprepared; but at the same time she won the devotion of the entire army by thus infusing fresh life and vigor into the almost paralyzed service, and also by another act of clemency. The leading officers, colonels and generals, who had been held responsible for the results of the last disastrous Turkish war, and been made to pay heavily for their mistakes by dismissal and imprisonment, were not only liberated but restored to all their former honors and dignities. The effect of this upon the army was magical, and the shout of Hungary in later days, “We will die for our Empress!” swept through the army in an enthusiastic expression of devotion and reverence, which was also shared by the officers’ families.
Charles VI had been harshly blamed for the enormous sums swallowed up by the imperial household. The retinue of well-paid officials and retainers was so numerous that they only hindered the business at Court instead of promoting it, and the salaries were out of all proportion to the services rendered. Fraud and peculation, too, were not wanting, and Maria Theresa found herself burdened with a household which cost the state more than the important affairs of government. With her clear insight and resolute will, it was but a short step from perception to action. She determined that as far as was consistent with the dignity of the Court, it should be regulated according to the system that prevailed in lower ranks of life; the spirit of display and show should be curbed, and a judicious economy introduced. Dismissals accordingly took place at once, salaries were decreased, many unnecessary expenses done away with, and a strict inspection of household accounts and expenditures instituted; and, as Maria Theresa’s consort also brought his influence to bear in the control and regulation of this as of other departments of state finances, matters began to assume a very different appearance, and the ever-pressing need for money disappeared. The people, too, were delighted to see that their beloved young ruler understood the management of her vast household as well as any thrifty German housewife. As in her administration of the affairs of the Empire she showed a masculine clearness and certainty in deciding between what was proper or improper, right or wrong, so here also her feminine instincts for order and the practical management of domestic affairs were conspicuous.
How much Maria Theresa loved and respected her husband is shown very plainly in the fact that she could not bear to have him occupy an inferior position to her, and that she spared no pains to make a way for him toward imperial honors. Scarcely a month after their accession, she made him co-regent and bestowed upon him the electoral dignities which belonged to the crown of Bohemia, thereby displaying not only her affection for him but also her womanly tact and diplomacy. She realized the strained relations with foreign courts that existed in Austria, and well knew that only the slightest provocation was needed to involve her in terrible wars. Thus it was a question not only of gratifying the dictates of her own heart, but also of guarding against any errors or false steps which her foes might seize upon and make an excuse for active enmity; and she succeeded in this in a masterly manner, though more depended upon the observance of forms and ceremonies than their real significance warranted. It was of the highest importance not to give offence anywhere; for although the so-called Pragmatic Sanction had been recognized in many quarters,—a recognition too often purchased by her father at a heavy sacrifice,—it was by no means certain that objections might not yet be raised against the step, as well as against her elevation of her husband to imperial honors, and that would mean war. It was therefore a relief and satisfaction to her that the States of her Empire did not delay in pronouncing their hearty concurrence in both measures. When some who opposed them showed their disapproval by an absurd attempt to assert their authority, the kindly sovereign maintained a discreet silence and ignored it. Bavaria, indeed, asserted claims to the crown of Bohemia; but when Maria Theresa, in reply, sent troops to the disputed kingdom, a wholesome fear weakened the ambition of Bavaria, and the hint was sufficient to prevent any further trouble.
So Maria Theresa’s throne seemed firmly established both at home and abroad. She had a loyal, devoted people on one side and an enthusiastic army on the other, to support her, and looked cheerfully and hopefully into the future, where no gathering storm, no lowering clouds, appeared to threaten her peace and security.