Frederick the Great and the Rise of Prussia

by William Fiddian Reddaway

Prussia’s greatest gain from Mollwitz was increase of prestige. Though her cavalry did not regain their nerve for many a day, her infantry, the backbone of the army, had proved that it was indeed as brave as it was handsome. Frederick never alluded to his own departure from the field. In later life he accustomed himself to inaugurate the Prussian military year by celebrating the anniversary of the triumph which he had not seen. Every fifth of April the Guards were twice ordered to the charge and dismissed with the words, “Thus did your forefathers at Mollwitz.” The traditional Austrian contempt for Prussia had received its first signal rebuke. The story survives among the villagers of Mollwitz that when the call to arms disturbed one of Neipperg’s officers at dinner he called to the landlord to keep the dishes hot. “We will come back soon,” he promised, “but we have to go and dust the Prussians’ jackets for them.”

Victory in the field reconciled Prussian opinion to Frederick’s Silesian adventure, but this was a small gain in comparison with its effect on opinion in Europe, especially in France. At the Court of Louis XV. the party opposed to Fleury and to peace had been gathering strength day by day. Hot-headed men and women, blind to the true interests of their country, could see in Austria only the hereditary enemy from whom lands and laurels were to be won. Chief among them was Marshal Belleisle, a man who conceived great schemes and advocated them with eloquence and charm. His plan was that France should ally herself with Prussia, procure the Imperial crown for Charles Albert of Bavaria, and, in spite of all her pledges to support the Pragmatic Sanction, endow both the Bavarian and Saxon claimants with Austrian lands. Having thus humbled Austria and made the fortunes of Austria’s rivals, France might gain the Netherlands and Luxemburg for herself and dictate to a divided Germany for ever.

Before Mollwitz, Belleisle had progressed with this policy so far as to be entrusted with a mission to the Diet which assembled at Frankfort to elect an Emperor. Frederick’s victory encouraged all the enemies of the Hapsburgs and thus lightened the task of Belleisle. In May, 1741, Charles Albert accepted the rôle marked out for him, and early next month the King of Prussia, despairing of an alliance with England, came to terms with France. By a treaty signed at Breslau in the deepest secrecy, he agreed to renounce his claims to Jülich-Berg, and undertook to vote for Charles Albert at the Diet. France in return guaranteed him in the possession of Lower Silesia, and undertook to safeguard Prussia by sending an army to support Charles Albert within two months and by stirring up Sweden to make war on Russia. The coalition against Austria gathered strength as it proceeded, and with the exception of the English and the Dutch no nation hesitated to desert the Pragmatic Sanction.

The idea with which Frederick began the Silesian adventure was at length realised. He had, as he anticipated, stirred up general confusion, amid which the strong man who knew his own mind could hardly fail to carry off some spoils. To France, as the moving spirit, he was all gratitude and devotion. But his real design henceforward was to leave his confederates to subdue Austria, while he himself devoted all his powers to grasping what Prussia could hope to retain. What he gained from Belleisle’s work was made manifest in the summer and autumn of 1741. While the Bavarians and French were advancing in triumph down the Danube towards Vienna, the Austrians could take no thought for Silesia. Frederick, therefore, had leisure to train his cavalry and consolidate his conquest. He treacherously destroyed the municipal independence of Breslau, which he had bound himself to preserve, but did little actual fighting. Neisse, protected by Neipperg’s army, seemed still too strong to be attacked.

Meanwhile the extreme peril of Maria Theresa’s throne forced the Queen to make trial of desperate remedies. By throwing herself upon the generosity of the Hungarians, the traditional rebels against her House, she more than doubled the force at her disposal. Her endeavour to purchase France was futile, but a hint from Frederick was now enough to inaugurate negotiations with Prussia. Early in October these issued in the famous convention of Klein Schnellendorf. In deep secrecy, for Fleury had written that the King of Prussia was false in everything, even in his caresses, and the French ambassador kept a watchful eye upon his movements, Frederick met Neipperg at a castle in the neighbourhood of Neisse. Each was accompanied by one companion, while the English ambassador, Lord Hyndford, who had arranged the interview, acted as clerk and witness. There Frederick, who had just written to Belleisle a letter full of encouragement, sold his allies for his own profit. It was agreed that after a sham siege of Neisse the Austrians should evacuate Silesia, and that Prussia should become neutral in fact though not in show. To Neipperg, whose army would now be free to act against the French in Bohemia, Frederick gave wise counsel for the campaign. “Unite all your troops, then strike home before they can strike you.” If the Austrians should succeed, Frederick might join them; if not, he would be compelled to look to himself. To deceive the French, the English ambassador was to report him as deaf to all propositions. If any word of the convention got abroad, the King declared he would deny all and regard all as void.

This conspiracy against Frederick’s allies was punctiliously carried into effect so long as it was profitable to Prussia. For fifteen days Neisse submitted to a bombardment and two hundred cannon-shot were fired off by either side. After seven days Neipperg’s army made off, attended by a Prussian corps in seeming pursuit, and at the time appointed the strong fortress was surrendered. On the very same day the King accepted a treaty for the partition of Austria. The Prussians then, as arranged, went into winter quarters in Upper Silesia, which Austria was eventually to retain, and from time to time sham skirmishes took place to hoodwink the French.

At the beginning of November the King left Neisse for Berlin, pausing on his way to view the scenes of all his triumphs. At Brieg and Glogau he inspected the fortifications, but at Breslau he drove in state to the grand old Rathaus and received the homage of Lower Silesia, the province secretly ceded to him at Klein Schnellendorf. The ceremony was immediately followed by the reorganisation of the Government in Church and State. The province was simply made Prussian, with absolute religious equality, heavy but not harsh taxation, and a regular system of conscription.

At Klein Schnellendorf Frederick had hinted that if the Austrians were not successful in Bohemia they could not expect him to do more than stand neutral. The event soon showed what he meant. Before the end of November Prague was stormed in brilliant fashion by the Bavarians, French, and Saxons. Frederick’s allies had succeeded where he expected them to fail. He at once proclaimed his intention of standing by the winning side. “My fingers itch for brilliant and useful action on behalf of my dear Elector,” he wrote to Belleisle. He broke all the provisions of the convention of Klein Schnellendorf and derided the suggestion that such a pact could ever have existed. “Should I be so foolish as to patch up a peace with enemies who hate me in their hearts, and in whose neighbourhood I could enjoy no safety?” the King demanded. “The true principles of the policy of my House demand a close alliance with France.” Such was the substance of the argument which Frederick addressed to Fleury.

Lord Hyndford, however, had witnessed all that passed at Klein Schnellendorf, and would not allow England to be duped by lies. Frederick therefore told him frankly that he intended to set the convention at defiance. The allies, he showed, had 150,000 men against Austria’s 70,000 and could do with her what they would. If she published the convention she would only expose her own folly, and perhaps she would not be believed. Then, besides treating Upper Silesia as his own and laying hands on the adjoining county of Glatz, he ordered the conquest of Moravia. Ere the year was out Schwerin was in Olmütz, the chief town of the North, and it seemed as though the allies would filch yet another province from the Queen. “Alas!” wrote the philosopher-king on one occasion to Voltaire, “trickery, bad faith and double-dealing are the leading feature of most of the men who are at the head of the nations and who ought to set them an example.”

Never was the fortitude of Maria Theresa more needed or more illustrious than in these winter months. The earlier gleams of light—Vienna spared and Frederick bought off—only made yet more black the clouds which now gathered over her throne. Her father had flattered himself that he bequeathed to her the support of united Europe. Within a year of his death the greater part of Europe was leagued to despoil her. France, Spain, Bavaria, Prussia, Saxony, the Elector Palatine, the Elector of Cologne formed the coalition, and the accession of Sardinia was the prelude to a severe struggle on the side of Italy. The loss of Bohemia almost without a blow made the Queen well-nigh forgetful of Silesia until the perfidy of Frederick opened the former wound anew. At the same time a revolution at St. Petersburg extinguished for the time being the Austrian influence in Russia and thereby increased the King’s security. Then came the attack upon Moravia, and before the end of January, 1742, the Imperial crown passed from the Hapsburg family by the election of the head of a rival House—Charles Albert of Bavaria.