Maria Theresa had, however, much in her favour. Though untried in affairs of State, it was certain that her birth, her beauty, her piety, her courage, her wifely devotion, and her unfailing goodness of heart would win the affection of her subjects. And the realm of the Hapsburgs needed only loyalty to be strong. Its broad and smiling provinces could furnish inexhaustible supplies of men and food, and the rank and file had proved their courage in a hundred wars. Besides, after all the trouble and sacrifices of Charles VI., in what quarter could immediate danger arise? The rulers of Bavaria, Saxony, Spain, and Sardinia had each a claim to some part of his inheritance, but they could each and all be confuted or bought off. A miscellaneous empire like that of the Hapsburgs could never be wholly free from such disputes. What might well give confidence for the future was the fact that France, so long the moving spirit of Europe and the implacable foe of Austria, had in 1738 given to the Pragmatic Sanction the most ample guarantee that the wit of man could devise. What her king had then undertaken, her all-powerful minister had lately confirmed. In January, Fleury had written to the Emperor:
“The King will observe with the most exact and inviolable fidelity the engagements which he has made with you, and if I may speak of myself after a name so worthy, I venture to flatter myself that my pacific intentions are well enough known for it to be supposed that I am very far from thinking of setting Europe on fire.”
Both King and Cardinal were sincere, and the best proofs of their sincerity were the signs of coming strife between them and England. It was clearly to the interest of France that they should keep their pledge.
If she had nothing to fear from France, Maria Theresa had everything to hope from Prussia. It is hardly necessary to say that Frederick William, the devoted vassal of the Emperor, had been among the first to guarantee the Pragmatic Sanction. His son, so Austrian statesmen might argue, had to thank the Emperor for protection when he lay in prison, for secret supplies of money, for experience in the field, above all for admission by way of marriage to the outer circle of the Imperial family itself. Now he expressed himself in terms which convinced the consort of the Queen, Francis of Lorraine, that his attitude towards the young couple was that of a father. Francis even flattered himself with expectations of Prussian support in his candidature for the office of Emperor. Although the Austrian resident at Berlin wrote towards the end of October, 1740, that the gossips spoke of dangerous designs upon a portion of Silesia, and although, on November 19th, Maria Theresa gave utterance to a fear that the price of Prussian protection would be a slice of her hereditary dominions, still no one at Vienna had the least suspicion of the blow that Frederick was preparing.
What was hidden from the victims was hidden also from Europe and from Berlin. Till the end of November, the only clear fact was that Prussia was arming fast. Envoys besieged Podewils and the King, and even Voltaire journeyed to Rheinsberg in the hope of piercing the veil. All their efforts were vain. The conviction that Silesia was in danger gathered strength, but no one could be sure that Frederick would move at all, or that if he moved it would not be towards the Rhine. He astutely feinted in the direction of Berg by strengthening the garrisons in Cleves and repairing the roads to the West. At the same time he toiled hard to baffle official curiosity at home and abroad and to feel the pulses of the Powers, especially that of France. Wilhelmina, who saw her brother revelling in the social pleasures of Rheinsberg, had no idea of what was in the wind.
At last, when secrecy was no longer profitable, the King’s design was allowed to appear. On November 29th, the English ambassador wrote from Berlin that the project of invading Silesia was as good as avowed. Frederick had yet to meet and to brave the Marquis di Botta, who came from Vienna on a special mission to the Prussian Court and encountered the stream of troops flowing towards Silesia. At their meeting the King dropped the mask of friendship. “I am resolved,” he said in effect, “to safeguard my rights over parts of Silesia by occupying it. Yield it to me and I will support the throne of Maria Theresa and procure the imperial crown for her husband.” “Impossible for us,” urged the Austrian, “and for you, criminal in the eyes of all Europe.” Argument was plainly futile, and both fell to threats. “The Prussian troops make a handsomer show than the Austrian,” said Botta, “but ours have smelt powder.” “The Prussian troops will prove themselves as brave as they are handsome,” replied the King. Three days later, on December 12th, he attended a masquerade in the apartments of the Queen, questioned the French ambassador with regard to the disposition of Fleury, and afterwards supped in public. To the last moment the routine of pleasure was performed.
Next morning Frederick set out for Silesia. He had first to shake off two lads of fourteen and ten, his brothers Henry and Ferdinand, the youngest colonels in his army, who seized the skirts of his coat and begged him to take them to the war. A day’s drive brought him to Frankfurt-on-Oder, and between Frankfurt and the frontier of Silesia was encamped an army of 19,000 men with seventy-four guns. The heart of the despot not yet twenty-nine years old beat high with lust of adventure and with confidence of success. On the evening of December 16th, he wrote to Podewils from Silesian soil:
“I have crossed the Rubicon with waving banners and resounding music; my troops are full of good-will, the officers ambitious and our generals consumed with greed for fame; all will go as we wish and I have reason to promise myself all possible good from this undertaking.... I will either perish or have honour from it.”
Frederick’s next step was to issue to the world a document, of which one thousand copies had been printed in deepest secrecy exactly a month before. This was designed to reassure the people of Silesia as to the intentions of the King of Prussia. It was dated December 1st and gave out that a general war was threatening, in which Silesia, “our safeguard and outwork,” would be involved and the security of Prussia threatened. To avert this peril the King saw himself compelled to despatch troops to Silesia.
“This is by no means intended to injure Her Majesty of Hungary, with whom and with the worshipful House of Austria we rather most eagerly desire to maintain the strictest friendship and to promote their true interest and maintenance according to the example of our glorious forefathers in our realm and electorate. That such is our sole intention in this affair, time will show clearly enough, for we are actually in course of explanation and agreement with Her Majesty.”