II THE AUSTRIAN SUCCESSION WAR, 1740–8

FOR FOURTEEN YEARS, 1726 TO 1740, the relations of Great Britain and Prussia had been unfriendly, and at times almost actively hostile. It is true that the actual quarrels had been Hanoverian rather than British, but they were equally fatal to any co-operation between the two states. And, so long as Frederick William lived, reconciliation was impossible. To Walpole, with his hostility to Hanoverian influence and his rooted distrust of Austria, this alienation of a state with which Britain had no cause of quarrel was distasteful, and he welcomed the death of Frederick William and the accession of his son as opening the possibility of improved relations. Several circumstances concurred to make a good understanding with Prussia eminently desirable. Britain was involved in a war with Spain—the so-called ‘War of Jenkins’s ear’—and it was necessary to provide against the probability, and indeed the practical certainty, that France would be drawn into the war in support of Spain. Austria, the natural ally in such a war, had been alienated by British neutrality in the Polish Succession War, and in addition Austria had been hopelessly weakened and discredited, not only by its losses in that war, but also by the humiliations of its subsequent war against the Turks. Never had Austria stood so low as in the last year of Charles VI. On the other hand, France occupied as commanding a position as in the great days of Louis XIV. It had virtually annexed Lorraine, it had revived the Bourbon power in Italy to balance that of the Habsburgs, and the French ambassador, Villeneuve, had largely dictated the terms of the treaties of Belgrade, which in 1739 had closed the Turkish war. In these circumstances the support of Prussia was desirable and might be invaluable.

Unfortunately the representation of the two states at each other’s courts was eminently unsatisfactory. In 1737 the Prussian envoy in London, one of the numerous family of Borcke, was ignominiously dismissed on a charge of seducing British subjects and even soldiers to enter the Prussian service, and, in spite of vigorous protests from Berlin, he was refused a formal audience to take leave of the king. At Berlin Captain Guy Dickens—a useful and not incompetent actor on the diplomatic stage—was a mere chargé d’affaires and had neither the status nor the influence necessary for an important negotiation. And his reports were not reassuring. In his first audience Frederick asked him what support his government would give on the three pressing questions of (1) Jülich and Berg, (2) East Friesland, (3) Mecklenburg; and it was clear that no satisfactory answer could be given. Hanover was opposed to all three Prussian claims; and the Dutch, though they had little interest in Mecklenburg, were resolutely hostile to any increase of Prussian dominions in the west of Germany. Harrington, who still held the seals of the northern department, realized the necessity of sending an envoy of higher rank if he wished to gain Frederick’s confidence, and told Dickens that this would be done if Frederick would send an envoy of equal rank.

So matters stood when the death of Charles VI, on the 20th October, suddenly raised the twin questions of the succession to the Austrian dominions and of a new imperial election. Maria Theresa’s claim to succeed seemed to be as securely buttressed as such a claim could be, and her appointment of her husband as joint ruler demonstrated her desire and expectation that he should be chosen to follow her father in maintaining the long association—unbroken since 1438—of the imperial office with Austria. But it was certain that in both matters she would meet with opposition. France was unpledged as to the imperial election, and it was a matter of course that she should seize the opportunity to break the continuous Habsburg tenure, to which she had been consistently opposed, and especially that she should oppose the election of a prince who might use his authority in Germany to re-claim his lost duchy of Lorraine. And French influence among German princes, based upon propinquity, bribery, and the treaty of Westphalia, was always considerable, and might, in view of the extinction of the male line of Habsburg, be decisive. As to the succession the matter was more complicated. That Bavaria was ready to put forward a claim was known beforehand. That Saxony, in spite of recent pledges, would do the same was probable. Spain and Sardinia could make use of claims, in themselves of little weight, but sufficient to give them a chance of adding to their gains in Italy. But co-operation between rival claimants was obviously difficult and perhaps impossible. And no single claimant was really formidable unless supported by France. Thus Maria Theresa seemed to be reasonably secure, unless French ambition and tradition impelled Fleury to exert his ecclesiastical subtlety to find a pretext for evading the solemn pledge to maintain the Pragmatic Sanction with which he had purchased the reversion of Lorraine. This was the one supreme danger-point on which attention was concentrated both in Vienna and in London.

Rather curiously, in view of British neutrality in the war of 1733-5, there was no vacillation in London as to the policy to be pursued. It is difficult to see, unless the Spanish war made the difference, why British interests demanded that the integrity of the Austrian dominions should be maintained on Charles VI’s death, if it was not equally imperative during his life. But consistency was not a conspicuous characteristic of eighteenth-century politicians, and Walpole made no effort in 1740, as he had done in 1733, to oppose the general demand, both in Britain and in Hanover, that treaties should be observed, the ‘old system’ restored, and Austria maintained to balance the house of Bourbon in Europe. Nor was there any hesitation as to the first step to be taken in carrying out this policy. Both treaty obligations and traditions pointed to Prussia as the state most thoroughly committed to the support of the Pragmatic Sanction. Here was a link which would at last bind the two powers together, and Hanoverian grumbles as to East Friesland or Mecklenburg must be sternly disregarded. George II, eager for the major aim, could not object to the most obvious expedient for obtaining it. Besides, if Prussia should be seduced into an alliance with France, Hanover would be in imminent danger.

As no new envoy had yet been appointed, it was necessary to employ Guy Dickens again, and Harrington instructed him, on the 31st October, to arrange concerted measures with Frederick, ‘as His Majesty’s engagements for maintaining the indivisibility of the Austrian Succession are the same as those of the king of Prussia’. Before these instructions, prompt as they were, could reach Berlin, they were already obsolete. Frederick’s decision was so rapid, and his grasp of the European situation so masterly, as to prove that he must have mapped out his programme before the opportunity came for carrying it out. He was determined that Prussia should no longer be patronized and attached to the ‘system’ of a greater state, as it had tended to be in the time of his father and grandfather. To the end of his reign the slightest hint of an attempt to guide or dictate his policy excited his passionate indignation. The death of Charles VI gave him the first chance of asserting his absolute freedom from either influence, tradition, or morality. He realized that the weakness of Maria Theresa would be as tempting to others as to himself. France would inevitably be drawn in to assert a dominant share in determining the fate of Austria and the Empire. Britain would, with equal certainty, be forced to oppose France. The two contending powers would infallibly bid against each other for the support of Prussia, and he, acting as his own auctioneer, could lower the hammer whenever one of them was in a position to pay not merely to offer a sufficiently tempting price. The one dangerous element in the situation was Russia, whose foreign policy was so swayed by personal motives as to be incalculable. But the death of the Tsaritsa Anne, a firm supporter of the Austrian alliance, was followed by disputes and disorders, which rendered resolute intervention by Russia impossible, and which might end in securing for him Russian support or at least Russian neutrality. In any case, he declared, it was always possible to send an ass laden with gold into St. Petersburg. Meanwhile he determined to occupy an almost undefended Silesia, and to offer his support to Maria Theresa against all enemies provided she would compensate him for his questionable claims and his indisputable expenditure. If she refused, as she did refuse, then he must trust to the pressure that might be applied either by her allies or by her opponents.

This plan was already fully formed and on the verge of execution when Dickens at last represented to Frederick that the indivisibility of the Austrian Succession was necessary for the balance of power, and that concert should be easy between two powers whose pledges were identical. Frederick replied that if Dickens meant the Pragmatic Sanction, he was not going to support it, had made no promise to do so, and would not be bound by his father’s promise. When pressed as to his designs, he grew red in the face, and said no one had a right to make such a demand. Calming down, he added that he was in favour of making the grand duke of Tuscany emperor, but he would never consent to his being king of Bohemia, which was contrary to...