The History of the 7 Years War
The real first world war, this often overlooked conflict saw action in Europe, North America, the Caribbean, Africa, India, and the Philippines. Its outcome also set the stage for many of the major events that would reshape the world in the coming decades.
The History of the 7 Years War
Episode 1 - The Powder Keg of Empire
The world of 1748 balanced precariously on the edge of chaos. The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle had technically ended the War of Austrian Succession, but as we explore in this first episode, it was less a peace treaty and more "like cramming eight angry cats into a sack, tying it shut and walking away." From this uneasy truce would emerge the Seven Years' War—a conflict Winston Churchill would later dub "the First World War."
We journey across the chess board of 18th-century power politics to understand the key players and their motivations. In Britain, King George II dozes through royal functions while his ministers fret over colonial taxation and French encroachment. Across the Channel, Louis XV's France maintains its glittering facade despite crumbling finances and colonial vulnerabilities. Meanwhile, Maria Theresa of Austria rebuilds her empire with one eye fixed on reclaiming Silesia from Frederick the Great—Prussia's flute-playing philosopher king with an army that punches far above its weight.
The drama extends eastward to Russia, where Empress Elizabeth hosts lavish masquerades while assembling Europe's largest army, and southward to Spain and Portugal, where faded glory meets strategic importance. Each power nurtures grievances and ambitions that make conflict inevitable. And at the center of this brewing storm stands a tall, ambitious 21-year-old Virginian named George Washington, about to "blunder into the history books" and inadvertently spark a global conflagration.
This episode sets the stage for our journey through one of history's most consequential conflicts—a war fought across five continents that would redraw the map of empires and plant the seeds for revolutions to come. Subscribe now to follow the entire dramatic story of the Seven Years' War and discover how this 18th-century struggle shaped our modern world.
Hello and welcome to the History of the Seven Years' War. I'm Rob Hill and this is Episode 1, the Powder Keg of Empire. The year is 1748. The War of Austrian Succession has just ended and everybody is tired, and by tired I mean broke Austria, broke France, extra broke Britain. I mean broke Austria, broke France, extra broke Britain slightly less broke, but still looking under the couch. For change, Prussia, smug, but broke. Spain broke and skulking the peace treaty that had ended the fighting. The Treaty of Axel Chappelle is often described as a settlement, but really it was more like cramming eight angry cats into a sack, tying it shut and walking away. Sure, the claws were contained, but no one thought it was over. And out of the uneasy peace will come the Seven Years' War, the war Winston Churchill, never shy about a sweeping declaration, would later call the First World War. So today we're going to talk about what the world looked like in 1748, who the major powers were, what they wanted and why the whole system was about to explode. We'll start our journey in Great Britain.
Speaker 1:The War of Austrian Succession finally ended in 1748. Britain came out of it like a man who had just survived a ballroom brawl. He's still standing. Yes, his wig is more or less intact, yes, but his coat is torn, his knuckles are bloody and his wallet is missing. On paper, britain had done reasonably well. The Treaty of Axel Chappelle confirmed that Britain would hold on to Gibraltar and Minorca, those valuable Mediterranean stepping stones. The Royal Navy was stronger than ever and George II could go back to dozing off at the opera with his comfortable knowledge that his Hanover and homeland was still intact.
Speaker 1:All good things, to be sure, but under the powdered wigs and polite handshakes, things were well tense, because while Britain's leaders congratulated themselves on defending the balance of power, their American colonists looked around and asked wait, we bled and spent money for this, for the same map we had in 1740? And, by the way, why are we still paying off all your war debts? This was Britain's great post-war problem. London and the colonies were growing apart, and everyone could feel it. So let's start with the money, because money always is a way of starting trouble.
Speaker 1:Britain had run up an eye-watering 76 million pound national debt during the war, a number that made government ministers clutch their heads and mutter about fiscal ruin. Parliament's answer, naturally, was to raise taxes. But here was the catch. Many Britons believed that the war had been fought largely to protect colonial interests the Sugar Islands, the Atlantic trade, the frontier settlements. So surely shouldn't the colonists ship in a bit more? Cue the sparks of a debate that would, a few decades later, become very loud indeed. The colonies said we already did our part. Britain said, no, you didn't. And the colonies said, oh, we absolutely did. No, you didn't. And the colony said, oh, we absolutely did.
Speaker 1:It was the 18th century version of a dinner table fight over who paid the last time. And while britain was busy bickering with its own children, it also had to watch france, spain and even prussia very carefully. The balance of power in europe looked as precarious as a house of cards in a hurricane. Britain's king at this moment was George II, a Hanoverian monarch who had come to the throne back in 1727. George was in many ways the last of his kind. He was the last British monarch to personally lead troops into battle, which he did at the Battle of Dettingen in 1743, famously misplacing his hat and having to be protected by his horse guards while shouting things in German Not exactly the kind of story that inspires awe. George wasn't terribly popular in Britain, though he wasn't hated either. He mostly let Parliament run the country while he busied himself with Hanover, his beloved little German principality. His ministers often complained that George seemed to care more about some forest rights in Lower Saxony than he did about the state of the British colonies in America. And to be fair, he did. George had a famously difficult relationship with his own son, frederick, prince of Wales, who basically was the 18th century equivalent of a reality TV star. Popular with the public, constantly at odds with his father and frequently short on cash, frederick would die in 1751 before he ever inherited the throne, leaving behind his son, the future George III, who will, needless to say, feature very prominently later in our story. But in truth Britain was not really ruled by George II so much as by his ministers.
Speaker 1:The man in charge during the late 1740s and early 1750s was Thomas Pelham Holes, duke of Newcastle. Newcastle had two defining qualities he was incredibly good at parliamentary politics and he was incredibly bad at well almost everything else. Newcastle could whip votes, hand out jobs and keep the wheels of patronage spinning like no one else, but as a strategist or statesman he was a nervous wreck. Contemporaries joked that if you told Newcastle good news, he fainted. If you told him bad news, he fainted. If you told him any news at all, he fainted. The Duke of Newcastle was one of those men who managed to stay in power, not because he was brilliant but because he was indispensable to the system. He was like the duct tape holding together Britain's fractious Whig political machine. Peel him off and the whole thing falls apart. His partner in government was his brother, henry Pelham, who acted as kind of a steady hand to Newcastle's constant panic. Henry was competent and unglamorous, the kind of a steady hand to Newcastle's constant panic. Henry was competent and unglamorous, the kind of man who never made headlines but kept the ship afloat. Unfortunately for Britain, henry died in 1754, leaving Newcastle alone in charge, just as the storm clouds were beginning to gather.
Speaker 1:Meanwhile, britain's North American colonies were restless. They had populations booming at astonishing rates. By 1750, around one and a half million colonists lived along the Atlantic seaboard. That was a lot of people and a lot of mouths to feed, which meant expansion. And expansion meant pushing further west into the Ohio Valley, and that meant running smack dab into the French. Here we meet one of the great themes of the whole war. Britain and France had very different colonial strategies. The French sprinkled forts and trading posts slightly across the interior of North America, linking Canada and Louisiana, and cultivating alliances with the native nations. The British, on the other hand, poured people into their colonies like beer into a pint glass, filling up the land as fast as they could. Inevitably, the two systems collided, and if you think colonial governors and the Duke of Newcastle were going to calmly and rationally resolve this, oh no. This is the 18th century, when miscommunication was an Olympic sport.
Speaker 1:It is around this point that some new names begin to appear on the stage, most obviously a young Virginian named George Washington who, at the tender age of 21, was about to blunder into the history books. Washington was tall, ambitious and had the kind of luck that makes you wonder if Providence really does pick favorites. Another rising star was William Pitt the Elder. Pitt was a fiery orator in Parliament who had spent much of the War of Austrian Succession denouncing the government as incompetent. He wasn't wrong, but his colleagues found him insufferable. Pitt will eventually become Britain's great war leader, but in the early 1750s he was still clawing his way up the greasy pole of politics, making enemies left and right, and hovering in the wings was Thomas Gage, a professional soldier who had fought in Flanders and was now stationed in America. Gage will become one of the names you hear over and over as the war grinds on.
Speaker 1:So to sum up, britain in the late 1740s and early 1750s it's a nation that's rich but in debt, powerful but somewhat nervous. Its king is distracted, its ministers are anxious, its colonies are restless and its enemies are circling. If you were writing a novel, you'd say the stage is set, all that's missing is a spark and, as we'll see, that spark is going to come from the Ohio Valley, where a young George Washington will have his very first taste of battle. But let's get ahead of ourselves, because before Washington, before Fort Necessity, before Braddock and his doomed march into the wilderness, we need to take a look at Britain's rivals, and that means turning our eyes across the channel to France. So we next hop over the channel to France, the eternal rival of Britain.
Speaker 1:When the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed in 1748, the French negotiators strutted out of the room like they had just won a great prize. France was, after all, still the preeminent power in Europe the largest population, the most glittering court, the strongest army. Versailles could still make the other capitals of Europe squirm with envy. But here's the secret, beneath the silks and powdered wigs, france was not in great shape. If Britain had left the war like a man who had been in a brawl with his coat torn and his wallet missing, france left like a man who insists he's totally won the fight while quietly searching the ground for his teeth. On paper, france should have been the undisputed hegemon of Europe. The kingdom boasted a population of about 25 million, five times larger than Britain's. It had fertile lands, thriving trade and the cultural cachet of Paris and Versailles. If Europe was a high school cafeteria, france was still the cool kid at the center table. But here's the catch France was bad at being a global empire Very bad.
Speaker 1:The French government had neither the administrative machinery nor the financial system to support overseas expansion on the scale of Britain or the Dutch. The French crown's tax system was a nightmare of exemptions, privileges and corruption. Nobles clergy and entire provinces ducked taxes, leaving the burden to fall on the peasantry. It was as if the French monarchy had looked at the idea of taxation and thought well, someone should pay, just not anyone. We know this meant that, despite all its resources, france entered the 1750s with a treasury constantly on the edge of collapse. In fact, it's worth remembering, france would never truly fix this problem until it tried, disastrously in the 1780s. Spoiler alert that doesn't end well for Louis XVI.
Speaker 1:France's king at this time was Louis XV, who was known, somewhat ironically, as the Bien-Ami, the Well-Beloved, and in fairness, he had been beloved when he first came to the throne as a child back in 1715. He was young, handsome, and the kingdom was ready for a fresh start after the exhausting reign of his great-grandfather, louis XIV. By the 1750s, louis XV's shine had worn off. He was still handsome, but he had also developed a reputation for indecisiveness, secrecy and, above all, distraction. Louis was far more interested in hunting and women than in governing. Versailles became infamous for its endless carousel of mistresses, the most famous being Madame de Pompadour, who will feature prominently as the war progresses. And Louis XV had another problem he was not a war king, unlike George II over in Britain, who leased the decency to misplace his hat while charging into battle. Louis had never led troops, never inspired soldiers and never seemed at all that concerned with strategy. His ministers did the heavy lifting, and not very well. The man most responsible for French policy in the early 1750s was the foreign minister, the Marquis de Paysseu, who was competent, competent enough, but hardly a visionary.
Speaker 1:Meanwhile, the French army was still living off the fading glory of Louis XIV's days. The generals were mostly aristocrats with long pedigrees and short attention spans. They preferred the glitter of court life to the mud of campaign tents. The French navy was in a similar state Once mighty, it had declined into near irrelevance thanks to chronic underfunding. When the British and French inevitably collided at sea, france would often discover that it had ships, just not enough and not well supplied. Now France did have an empire. It was just an empire run on a shoestring budget and a prayer.
Speaker 1:In North America, france controlled Canada, new France, stretched down the Mississippi Valley into Louisiana and dotted the Ohio Valley with forts. On a map, it looked like France had locked up half the continent. In reality, these possessions were held by small garrisons continent. In reality, these possessions were held by small garrisons, scattered settlers and, above all, alliances with native nations. The French had mastered the art of diplomacy with indigenous peoples, often treated them more as partners than subjects. Compare that to the British, whose colonists tended to roll in with plows and fences announcing hi, this is ours now. The French approach was much lighter, but it also meant they were perpetually vulnerable. If their alliances frayed, the whole system would collapse like a poorly baked souffle.
Speaker 1:In India, the French presence was similarly precarious. They had trading posts like Pondicherry and Chandanagore, but they were dwarfed by the British East India Company's resources and ruthlessness. The French Compagnie des Indies was brave, yes, but also underfunded, badly managed and frequently left to fend for itself itself. The real jewel of France's overseas empire was the Caribbean sugar islands, particularly Saint-Domingue, modern-day Haiti. This island alone generated more wealth than all of New France put together. It was the beating heart of France's Atlantic empire, worked by hundreds of thousands of enslaved Africans under brutal conditions. French officials understood perfectly well that if push came to shove, they would sacrifice Canada to keep the Sugar Islands Spoiler alert. That will become very relevant.
Speaker 1:The French army on paper was still a terrifying machine, one of the largest in Europe, but in practice it was plagued by corruption, outdated tactics and aristocratic amateurism. Officers bought their commissions and often spent more time in courtly intrigue than on drilling troops. The rank and file were brave enough, but poorly supplied and often paid late, if at all. There is a marvelous anecdote from the period when a French general was asked what plan he had for the next campaign. He shrugged and said we will see what the enemy does and then we will do the opposite A fine example of French military planning in the mid-18th century.
Speaker 1:France faced a big problem in the 1750s. It had too many enemies. Britain was a rival at sea and in the colonies. Austria and Prussia were squabbling in Central Europe, and France had foolishly entangled itself there. Spain was a supposed ally, but the Spanish Bourbons were always wary of being overshadowed by their French cousins. Russia loomed in the east, a power growing faster than anyone realized. France had all the potential to dominate Europe, but it kept scattering its energies in ten directions at once. Britain, by contrast, had a simpler strategy Use its navy to protect the homeland and fund allies to do the fighting on the continent. France wanted to do everything everywhere all at once, a strategy that, as we'll see, rarely works.
Speaker 1:And finally, no portrait of France at this time would be complete without mentioning Madame de Pompadour. No portrait of France at this time would be complete without mentioning Madame de Pompadour. She was not only Louis XV's mistress, but also his confidant advisor and patron of the arts. Courtiers sneered at her, foreign diplomats underestimated her, but she had enormous influence. There's a running joke from this era that France's foreign policy was made in the bedchamber. And while that's unfair, Pompadour was far more politically savvy than just a mistress. It captures the sense that Louis XV's France was drifting, guided more by personal whims than national strategy.
Speaker 1:So France, after the War of Austria, in succession was still rich, but its finances were a disaster. Still mighty, but its army and navy were decaying. Still glamorous, but its king is distracted. And still ambitious, but stretched too thin. It looked like France was ready for another round of global struggle, but appearances can be deceiving. The cracks in the French system would soon widen into gaping holes and when war came, as it inevitably would, france would find itself scrambling to hold together its far-flung empire. But before we light that particular fuse, we'll need to meet some of the other players in this dangerous game. Our next stop brings us to Austria. So if Britain came out of the war of Austrian succession broke but energized, and France came out looking fabulous but quietly exhausted, then Austria? Well, austria came out of it feeling like someone who had been mugged, stripped of their coat, and then told they should be grateful they at least still had their shoes.
Speaker 1:The ruler of Austria at this time was Maria Theresa, one of the most remarkable monarchs of the 18th century. She had inherited the Habsburg lands in 1740 when her father, emperor Charles VI, had died, and Charles, in what can only be described as peak Habsburg fashion, had spent most of his reign obsessively getting Europe to sign a document called the Pragmatic Sanction, which basically said hey, when I die, please don't bully my daughter. And everyone in Europe signed it, nodded solemnly and promised to respect it. Then Charles died and everyone immediately bullied his daughter. This launched the War of Austrian Succession. Maria Theresa fought like a lioness to defend her inheritance. She held on to most of her lands, but she suffered one crushing loss. Cilicia, the jewel of the central European crown lands, was snatched away by the upstart King of Prussia, frederick the Great. Losing Cilicia was not just a bruise to Austria's ego. It was like losing the family savings account. The province was rich in mines, industry and farmland. It was Austria's economic powerhouse, and Maria Theresa wanted it back with the intensity of someone watching their ex walk around town in their favorite hoodie.
Speaker 1:Let's pause for a moment on Maria Theresa, because she's worth it. She was pious, deeply Catholic and devoted to her faith. She would eventually have 16 children, which is less of a family tree and more of a family forest. Among those children were future monarchs and consorts, including Marie Antoinette of Let them Eat Cake fame. But Maria Theresa was no shrinking violet. She had nerves of steel. At one point during the succession crisis, when it looked like Austria might collapse, she marched into the Hungarian Diet dressed in morning black, holding her infant son, and made a speech begging the Hungarian nobles to defend her. The Hungarians were so moved they shouted Our lives and blood for your majesty, which is a lot better than most parliaments usually offer. So Austria survived, but Maria Theresa never forgave Frederick of Prussia for taking Silesia. That grudge would define Austrian policy in the coming decades.
Speaker 1:One of Austria's big challenges was that it wasn't really a single country. It was a patchwork of land scattered across Central Europe Austria proper Hungary, bohemia, parts of Italy, the Austrian Netherlands, modern Belgium and more. This was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it gave Austria vast resources and manpower. On the other hand, it made governing an absolute nightmare. Resources and manpower. On the other hand, it made governing an absolute nightmare. Different provinces had different languages, laws, privileges and tax systems. It was like trying to run an empire where half your subjects spoke German, the other half Hungarian, a chunk spoke Czech and all of them thought they deserved special treatment. And yet, despite the chaos, treatment. And yet despite the chaos, maria Theresa was determined to whip her empire into shape.
Speaker 1:The 1750s saw the beginning of the Theresian reforms. Maria Theresa knew Austria had barely survived the last war and she was not going to let that happen again. She overhauled the army, centralizing its command and trying to professionalize the officer corps, hauled the army, centralizing its command and trying to professionalize the officer corps. She streamlined taxation, at least a little, so that more money could actually reach the crown instead of vanishing into noble pockets. She strengthened education and administration, laying the groundwork for a modern state. Was it perfect? By no means. Austria was still riddled with inefficiencies, but it was better than before. Maria Theresa wasn't trying to turn Austria into Prussia no one could out-Prussia the Prussians but she was determined that when the next war came, Austria would not be caught off guard.
Speaker 1:The Austrian army in the mid-18th century was well, it was fine, not great, not terrible, just fine. It was large. But like the empire itself, it was a patchwork. Regiments from Hungary fought alongside regiments from Bohemia and regiments from Austria, all with their own languages and traditions. Commanders sometimes needed translators just to give orders. The officer corps was noble-dominated and not always brilliant. There's a reoccurring joke that Austria didn't win battles, it just survived them. There's truth to that. Austrian soldiers could be stubborn defenders, but offensive brilliance was rare. Still, maria Theresa invested heavily in improving her forces.
Speaker 1:The Austrian army of the 1750s was better than the one that had stumbled through the last war, and with enemies like Frederick the Great next door, they had to be. Austria's biggest problem was geography. The Habsburg lands were smack in the middle of Europe, surrounded by potential enemies Prussia to the north, france to the west, the Ottoman Empire to the southeast and increasingly Russia looming in the east. Austria couldn't sneeze without alarming their neighbors. This meant Austria was always playing defense. It could never just focus on one front. In the 1750s, the front Maria Theresa cared the most about was Prussia. She wanted Cilicia back, and she was willing to bend Austria's entire foreign policy to make that happen. And here's where Austria's story gets juicy.
Speaker 1:In the early 1750s, austria was still officially allied with Britain. This made sense. Both were wary of France and both had fought together in the last war. But Britain's priorities were shifting towards the colonies and naval rivalry with France, while Austria's priorities were locked on Central Europe. The alliance was fraying. Maria Theresa and her brilliant foreign minister, count Wenzel Anton von Konitz, began to plot a more radical move, switching Austria's alliance from Britain to France yes, the same France Austria had been fighting for decades. This would become known as the Diplomatic Revolution of 1756, one of the most dramatic turnarounds in European diplomatic history. It was like watching two people who had spent years in a bitter divorce suddenly show up holding hands at a dinner party. Everyone else in Europe dropped their wine glasses. And here's the kicker Le glue for this new alliance would eventually be Maria Theresa's own daughter, marie Antoinette, who would marry the French Dauphin. But that's still in the future. For now, connitz was just laying the groundwork.
Speaker 1:Globally, austria was not a colonial power. It had no overseas empire to speak of, unless you count a few minor training ventures, austria's power was firmly continental. That meant when Britain and France started brawling in North America and India, austria's role was to tip the balance in Europe. In a sense, austria was the great hinge of the coming war. Would it side with Britain against France or with France against Britain's ally Prussia? The choice would shape the conflict. So Austria in the 1750s has Maria Theresa on its throne, determined, tough and still furious about Cilicia. Their empire is a patchwork, but she's working to reform and centralize it. Her army is decent if uninspired, but she's working to improve it. And diplomatically, austria is on the verge of flipping the entire European order on its head.
Speaker 1:Austria was not flashy like France, nor rich like Britain, nor aggressive like Prussia. But Austria was stubborn, durable and led by one of the sharpest rulers of the age In the coming struggle that would matter. Now we'll cross the border north, into Prussia, where a certain king with a wig, a flute and a habit for starting wars just for the fun of it is about to steal the show. And so we find ourselves in Prussia. If Austria was the old money aristocrat of Central Europe, prussia was the brash new money cousin who had just arrived at the party, loudly announced that he owned a sports car and then challenged everyone to an arm wrestling contest.
Speaker 1:In 1700, Prussia wasn't much to speak of, just a sandy, windswept collection of provinces along the Baltic, famous mostly for potatoes and poverty. But through sheer military obsession, the whole Hans-Oleren dynasty had turned it into a formidable power. By 1750, prussia was ruled by Frederick II, better known as Frederick the Great. Spoiler alert the Great was not official yet, he still had to earn it, but Frederick was well on his way. Frederick the Great was, in many ways, the most interesting monarch of the century. On one hand, he was a military genius, the man who could maneuver armies like a chess master and win battles against impossible odds. On the other hand, he was the man who spent his spare time playing the flute, writing French poetry and hosting philosophers at his palace. Yes, imagine Napoleon, but with more woodwinds. Frederick was also a man who had endured a traumatic youth. His father, frederick Wilhelm I, the so-called soldier king, had been a terrifying figure who ruled his family the way he ruled Prussia, with iron, discipline and occasional beatings. At one point, young Frederick tried to run away from Prussia and when he was caught, his father forced him to watch his best friend beheaded for helping him. That'll put some steel in a man's spine or, in Frederick's case, turn him into a highly functional control freak.
Speaker 1:The heart of Prussia's power was in its army, and when I say army, I don't mean a respectable, normal-sized military, I mean a gigantic, obsessively drilled war machine. Prussia had about 2.2 million people in the mid-18th century barely a fraction of Austria's population, but it maintained an army of over 150,000 men. That was one of the highest soldier-to-population ratios in Europe. Men, that was one of the highest soldier-to-population ratios in Europe. It was as if the entire kingdom had decided we may not have money, we may not have land, but by God we have soldiers. Prussian soldiers were drilled relentlessly. Frederick the Great's infantry could march faster, fire faster and maneuver sharper than anyone else's. Contemporaries joked that Prussian soldiers feared their officers more than the enemy, and there's some truth to that. Result was an army that could punch far above its weight. When Austria lined up lumbering multilingual regiments, prussia brought its lean, mean goose-stepping machine.
Speaker 1:Now here's the funny thing. Prussia was not rich. It didn't have the colonies of Britain, the wealth of France or even the mines of Austria. Much of its territory was poor farmland or literal sand. The secret to making this work was frugality. Frederick had inherited a kingdom where his father had hoarded money like a dragon hoards gold. Frederick William. I left him a treasury full of silver and an army ready to go. Frederick used both with terrifying effectiveness. It's worth remembering here. Austria had lost Celestia to Frederick, not because Austria was weak, but because Prussia was terrifyingly efficient. Weak but because Prussia was terrifyingly efficient. Imagine if your scrappy younger cousin shows up and beats you at arm wrestling not because he's bigger, but because he's secretly training eight hours a day while you're taking naps.
Speaker 1:Now Frederick the Great wasn't just a great general, he was also a self-styled philosopher, king. He idolized the French Enlightenment, corresponded with Voltaire and filled his palace with statues of the Muses. He wrote books on history and political theory, but don't let that flute fool you. Frederick could be ruthless. He once said Diplomacy without arms is like music without instruments, which is a very Frederick way of saying Talk is cheap. Always bring your army. He was also deeply suspicious and calculating. He saw enemies everywhere and, to be fair, he had plenty. His empire was small, poor and surrounded by bigger powers.
Speaker 1:Frederick knew that if Prussia wanted to survive, it had to fight and win constantly. Which brings us back to Austria's missing hoodie, cilicia. Frederick had grabbed Cilicia from Ria Teresa at the start of her reign and he wasn't letting go. The rich mines and farms of Cilicia had doubled Prussia's income and gave Frederick the resources to maintain his oversized army. But stealing it also earned Austria's undying hatred. Maria Theresa was never going to forgive him. So Europe was primed for round two.
Speaker 1:On paper, prussia didn't have many friends. Its traditional ally was France, since both of them disliked Austria. But Frederick was a gambler. In the early 1750s, as the European alliances started to shift, frederick shocked everyone by cutting a deal with Britain the Convention of Westminster in 1756. This was a defensive alliance aimed at keeping French influence out of Germany, but it also meant Britain, this naval empire in deep pockets, was now tied to Frederick's fate. If Austria switching to France was like a bitterly divorced couple suddenly dating again, then Prussia hooking up with Britain was like the shy bookworm suddenly running off with a class delinquent. Nobody saw it coming and it changed everything. Nobody saw it coming and it changed everything.
Speaker 1:Frederick loved war. He saw it as a chess match, a chance to prove his brilliance. He once wrote A prince that will not risk his crown deserves to wear a hat. Translation if you're not willing to gamble everything, you're not fit to rule. This attitude made him dangerous. He wasn't a defensive player like Maria Theresa. He was an attacker, a gambler, someone who believed the best defense was a lightning strike before the other side was ready.
Speaker 1:And sure enough, when the Seven Years' War finally broke out. Frederick didn't sit back and wait. He struck first, invading Saxony in 1756 and plunging Europe into chaos. So Prussia in the 1750s looked a little bit like this it was a small, poor kingdom with sandy fields and way too many soldiers. It was ruled by Frederick the Great. It was ruled by Frederick the Great, part philosopher, part flautist, part military shark. He was armed to the teeth with the most disciplined army in Europe, and he was holding onto Silesia, austria's lost treasure. He was absolutely completely ready to gamble absolutely everything at the first opportunity. Prussia was the wild card of the Seven Years' War. It had no colonies, no navy and no vast population, but it had Frederick, and that meant it could punch far, far above its weight.
Speaker 1:The next stop on our survey will be heading east to look at Russia, a vast, icy empire with an empress on the throne, a suspicious court full of intrigue and an army that was about to become the hammer to Frederick's anvil. So if Prussia was the scrappy kid picking fights in the schoolyard, russia was the huge lumbering farm boy at the edge of the crowd, quiet, slow to anger. But was the huge lumbering farm boy at the edge of the crowd, quiet, slow to anger, but once roused, you really did not want him swinging at you. In 1750, russia was enormous we're talking vast beyond comprehension. From the Baltic Sea to Siberia it stretched over 5,000 miles. It was the kind of place where you could march for weeks and still be in Russia. As one wit put it, russia is not a country, it's a continent disguised as a kingdom. But Russia's size was both its strength and weakness. Vast resources, yes, but also vast distances, poor roads and a population scattered across endless plains. Mobilizing Russia was like waking a bear from hibernation it took time, but once awake, it was unstoppable.
Speaker 1:In the 1750s, russia was ruled by Empress Elizabeth, daughter of Peter the Great. Elizabeth had seized the throne in a coup in 1741, tossing out the child king Ivan VI, and she ruled with a combination of flair, charm and extravagance. Elizabeth was famous for her love of parties and fashion. She reportedly owned over 15,000 dresses and never wore the same one twice. Imagine the Versailles crowd gasping in envy. But don't let the gowns fool you. Elizabeth was also a shrewd politician who maintained the stability in Russia for nearly 20 years. Unlike her father, peter the Great, who had dragged Russia kicking and screaming into the modern world. Elizabeth preferred a softer touch, but she kept the reforms going, modernizing the army, encouraging European culture and making sure Russia was respected abroad. And, importantly for our story, she really did not like Frederick the Great of Prussia.
Speaker 1:Russia's army in the 1750s was huge. Estimates put it around 300,000 men, twice the size of Prussia's. The problem was it wasn't as disciplined or as modern as Frederick's sleek war machine. The Russian soldiers were brave, resilient and accustomed to hardship, but their officers were often corrupt or incompetent. Supply lines were a nightmare and logistics were how to put this delicately somewhere between creative improvisation and absolute disaster. Still, when properly led, the Russian army could grind down any opponent simply through sheer numbers and endurance. They didn't need finesse. They could take losses that would cripple smaller states and keep coming. As Frederick himself would later groan, it's easier to kill a Russian than to defeat him. Now, russia in the 1750s was still relatively new to the European balance of power game. Peter the Great had forced his way onto the scene by defeating Sweden in the Great Northern War. That victory gave Russia access to the Baltic Sea and made it a permanent player in European politics.
Speaker 1:By Elizabeth's reign, russia was recognized as a great power, but one still searching for its place. It didn't have colonies like Britain or France, nor did it have centuries of dynastic prestige like Austria. Instead, russia was the unpredictable heavyweight who tipped the scales by just lumbering into the fight. Elizabeth's foreign policy was driven largely by her personal dislike of Frederick the Great. To her he was arrogant, dangerous and destabilizing. In fairness, she wasn't wrong. So when Austria began shopping around for allies against Frederick, russia was interested. In the diplomatic revolution of 1756, russia lined up with Austria and France against Prussia and Britain. This meant that Frederick the Gambler had basically managed to surround himself with enemies on all sides France to the west, austria to the south and Russia to the east. A sensible person might have thought Hmm, maybe I shouldn't poke the giant bear in the east. Frederick, of course, thought Perfect, I'll just invade Saxony and see what happens.
Speaker 1:Elizabeth's court was lively, to put it mildly. She loved masquerades, balls and feasts, sometimes hosting multiple parties in a single night. Foreign ambassadors complained that serious business often delayed until after dinner and Elizabeth's dinners could last until dawn. She also had a flair for the dramatic. When she seized the throne in 1741, she reportedly marched into the palace with the guards' regiment and declared Whom do you want to serve Me, the daughter of your czar or those who have insulted your faith? The guards shouted her name and just like that, elizabeth was empress. Anecdotally, elizabeth also had a policy of never executing anyone during her reign. For an absolute monarch in the 18th century, that's quite something. Prison, exile and Siberia, yes, but no death sentences, though, to be fair, some might argue exile to Siberia was worse.
Speaker 1:For all its size and manpower, russia still had serious weaknesses, though. Its economy was underdeveloped compared to its Western European neighbors. Serfdom dominated rural life, keeping millions of peasants bound to the land and limited economic growth. Its roads were poor, its bureaucracy corrupt and its aristocracy often more interested in French fashions than Russian governance. Elizabeth herself loved French culture so much that she often spoke it more and better than Russian. And while its army was massive, moving that army across Russia's vast distances took time. By the time Russia was ready to intervene in a war, the quick movers like Frederick had often already struck first.
Speaker 1:The real spark between Russia and Prussia was simple. Frederick's rise threatened Russia's interests in Eastern Europe. A strong Prussia meant a weaker Austria, and Russia wanted Austria strong enough to balance things on its western frontier. Add Elizabeth's personal dislike of Frederick and you get a situation where Russia was basically waiting for an excuse to fight him. That excuse would come in the Seven Years' War, when Russian armies would march west, clash with Frederick's forces and, on more than one occasion, bring Prussia to the brink of collapse. In fact, one of the great what-ifs of history is this had Elizabeth lived a little longer, frederick might not have survived the war at all. But fate, as we shall see, had other plans. So Russia in the 1750s looks a little bit like this A vast, sprawling empire that's still modernizing, but already labeled a major power.
Speaker 1:They are ruled by Empress Elizabeth, a party queen by night and a shrewd monarch by day. They are a home to a massive but often clumsy army. They are eager to check the power of Frederick the Great and protect Austria, the slow-moving bearer of Europe. They are not quick to strike, but when they do, they deliver a devastating blow. When the Seven Years' War breaks out, russia will be one of the most dangerous enemies Frederick faces, not because of brilliance or speed, but because of sheer weight and persistence.
Speaker 1:The next stop on our journey is heading all the way back west to take a look at Spain, the fading empire of the Bourbon dynasty, with one foot still in the glory days of the Conquistadors and the other one stuck in the mud of 18th century decline. By the mid-18th century Spain was still officially a great power. After all, it had the largest empire in the world, vast stretches of the Americas, holdings in Italy, parts of the Low Countries and territories scattered across the globe. On paper Spain still looked mighty, but in practice Spain was like a once great athlete still wearing their old medals around town. People still nodded respectfully but quietly whispered he hasn't won a match in years. Ever since the War of Spanish Succession, spain had been sliding the war had nearly torn Europe apart over who got to sit on the Spanish throne, and when the dust settled, spain had lost major European possessions. Gone were the days when the empire on which Spain had lost major European possessions. Gone were the days when the empire on which the sun never sets dominated the balance of power. By the 1750s the sun still technically wasn't setting, but it was definitely lower on the horizon.
Speaker 1:Spain in the 1750s was ruled by Ferdinand VI, a Bourbon monarch and the son of Philip V, the first Bourbon king of Spain. That meant Spain was part of the sprawling Bourbon family tree that also included France. If Austria was a hoodie-wearing Habsburg legacy student, spain was the uncle who used to be the most popular guy in school but now mostly shows up to family dinners and tries to tell everyone about the good old days. The Bourbon Link tied Spain closely to France, and French influence in Madrid was strong. But Spain wasn't just a French satellite, not yet. Ferdinand VI was determined to keep Spain neutral in European conflicts and rebuild its strength.
Speaker 1:Ferdinand VI is sometimes called the Peaceful, which sounds flattering, but in practice it meant he didn't have the energy for war. He and his wife, queen Barbara of Portugal, lived quietly, devoted to music, art and each other. They were Europe's introverted power couple. They famously hosted elaborate concerts at court, sometimes with dozens of musicians, while avoiding the mess of continental politics. Ferdinand wasn't incompetent. In fact he did manage some reforms that stabilized Spain's finances and tried to modernize his navy. But he wasn't exactly inspiring either. In fairness, after a century of exhausting wars, maybe Spain could have used a peaceful king. But in a Europe where Frederick was sharpening his sword, elizabeth of Russia was hosting all-night masquerades and Britain was counting every last coin, ferdinand came across as a little subdued.
Speaker 1:So despite the decline, spain still had serious assets. Their global empire of vast colonies in the Americas poured silver and goods into Spanish coffers. Havana, veracruz, buenos Aires and Lima were jewels of their empire. Veracruz, buenos Aires and Lima were jewels of their empire. The Spanish navy, though weakened compared to the British royal navy, spain's fleets were still formidable and, with investment, could rival anyone's Strategically positioned. Spain controlled important territories in the Mediterranean like Naples and Sicily for a time, as well as many key Atlantic ports.
Speaker 1:Spain wasn't finished. There was still a great power, but it was a power in recovery and one increasingly overshadowed by its bourbon cousin, france. Despite its many strengths, its weaknesses were glaring. Despite all of that silver, spain's economy lagged. Much of the treasure from the Americas went straight into paying off debts or buying foreign goods. Spain may be rich in resources, but it was poor in infrastructure. The Spanish administration was a labyrinth of corruption and paperwork. Spanish administration was a labyrinth of corruption and paperwork. Governing the colonies across the Atlantic was a Herculean task, often left to slow, ineffective councils. The army was large but outdated. The navy, while promising, suffered from neglect. Spain had potential, but compared to Britain's razor-focused navy or Prussia's drillmaster army, they were sluggish. One contemporary joke went that Spanish ships were magnificent to look at but often stayed in port, floating palaces that rarely left the ballroom.
Speaker 1:During the Seven Years' War build-up, spain tried to stay neutral. Ferdinand VI wanted no part in Frederick's antics, Austria's hoodie pride or Britain and France's slap fight over the colonies. Instead, spain focused on defending its empire. Spanish officials worried about British encroachment in the Caribbean and along the American frontiers. Worried about British encroachment in the Caribbean and along the American frontiers. Smuggling and piracy and border disputes with Britain were constant headaches. Still, ferdinand was cautious. He didn't want to plunge Spain into another ruinous war. But here's the rub Neutrality was hard when your cousin was France. The Bourbon kings saw themselves as a family block and by the late 1750s the idea of a Bourbon family compact was floating around. Basically, we're all in this together. If one of us fights, the other one helps. France, looking nervously at Britain's accountants and Prussia's swords, increasingly pressured Spain to get involved. Ferdinand resisted, but after his death in 1759, his half-brother, charles III, came to the throne and Charles would take a much more active pro-French line. That meant Spain, despite its initial neutrality, would eventually join the war against Britain and when it did, it would bring those Caribbean colonies and treasure fleets squarely into the line of fire.
Speaker 1:Spanish court life under Ferdinand and Barbara was famously quiet compared to France's Versailles or Elizabeth's Moscow masquerades, but that doesn't mean it was dull. The royal couple adored music, commissioning operas and symphonies, and their court orchestra was said to rival any in Europe. One story goes that Ferdinand, prone to bouts of melancholy, once sat silently during a thunderstorm while Barbara played music to calm him. It was touching, yes, but it also made ambassadors nervous. Imagine explaining to your king back home that Spain's monarch spent half the week staring out of windows sighing deeply. Meanwhile, in the colonies, life was anything but quiet. Havana was a bustling hub of trade, soldiers and sailors. Mexico City was one of the largest cities in the world and Spanish officials constantly worried about British raids or contraband trade undermining their empire.
Speaker 1:So Spain in the 1750s looked a little bit like this. They were a faded but still mighty empire that was struggling to modernize, ruled by their king Ferdinand VI, a peaceful but melancholy ruler trying to stay out of Europe's squabbles. While they guarded their American empire, they were unfortunately tied to France by blood, if not always by choice. They were a slumbering giant that, once awakened under Charles III, would bring global stakes into the war. Spain may not have rushed into the Seven Years' War at the start, but when it did enter, it dragged the Caribbean, the Philippines and Mexico into the conflict, proving that even a fated empire could still shake the world.
Speaker 1:Our final stop on our tour is Spain's next-door neighbor, portugal. In the great stage play of the 18th century geopolitics, portugal doesn't get top billing. It's not Britain with its global navy, not France with its aristocratic armies, not Austria with its hoody legacy pride, and certainly not Prussia with its sharp elbows. But Portugal's role is far from minor. If Spain was the aging knight muttering about past glories, portugal was the sharp-eyed squire making sure the horse didn't wander into the ditch. Small, yes, but clever, stubborn and, thanks to its alliance with Britain, able to punch well above its weight. So let's start with the basics. Portugal and Britain were bound together by the oldest diplomatic alliance in the world still in force the Treaty of Windsor signed back in 1386. That's right. While Frederick the Great was still polishing his flute, britain and Portugal had already been best friends for nearly four centuries. The alliance was fairly simple Portugal provided Britain with wine, hello port and Atlantic naval bases, and Britain provided Portugal with military backup whenever the Spanish got a little grabby. In a way, portugal was Britain's insurance policy on the Iberian Peninsula and, given how often Spain and France dreamed of redrawing the map, it was a very handy policy to have.
Speaker 1:Portugal in the mid-18th century was ruled by King Joseph I, who came to the throne in 1750. Joseph wasn't the most dynamic king he preferred hunting and music to governing but he had the great fortune of an outstanding minister, the Marquis of Pombal. If you want to picture Pombal, think of him as Portugal's version of Cardinal Richelieu or Britain's Pitt the Elder. Ruthless, reforming and absolutely convinced that he knows better than everyone else. He centralized power, cracked down on noble privileges and set about modernizing the Portuguese state. Under his guidance, portugal was stronger and more resilient than its size might suggest.
Speaker 1:Portugal's strengths mostly lay overseas. Their colonial wealth, mainly in the form of Brazil, was booming in the mid-18th century, especially thanks to gold and diamonds from Minas Gerais. Lisbon's coffers were benefiting enormously. Lisbon controlled many key ports along the Atlantic trade routes, and the Portuguese harbors were invaluable to the Royal Navy. With Britain as its ally, portugal also had the security of knowing that any Spanish and French aggression would be met by British retaliation.
Speaker 1:Portugal wasn't about to dominate Europe, but it could make life very inconvenient for Spain and France. But let's be honest, portugal was not a military powerhouse. The small Portuguese army was underfunded and outdated, more suited to ceremonial parades than continental warfare. Sandwiched next to Spain, portugal lived with the constant fear of invasion. In fact, spain might invade next week was basically a recurring nightmare for every Portuguese monarch. And while the alliance with Great Britain was certainly Portugal's greatest strength, it was also a constant reminder that it couldn't stand on its own. One wit at the time joked that Portugal was like a man with a very nice house but who had to rely on his neighbor to keep the locks working.
Speaker 1:Portugal's story in the 1750s had one dramatic twist the Lisbon earthquake of 1755. On All Saints Day, november 1st, a massive earthquake struck Lisbon, followed by a tsunami and fires that devastated the city. Tens of thousands died. This was not only a national disaster, but also a philosophical one. Voltaire famously used it to attack the idea that all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. Lisbon's ruins became a symbol of the fragility of human plans. For Pombal, though, it was an opportunity. He famously declared what now we bury the dead and feed the living. And then he set about rebuilding Lisbon in modern, earthquake-resistant style. Today, the city's downtown grid owes much to his vision. So, if you've been keeping track, portugal in the 1750s was simultaneously wealthy from Brazil, however devastated by natural disasters, and politically being rebuilt by one of Europe's most ruthless reformers. So not a bad resume for a so-called minor power.
Speaker 1:The Seven Years' War broke out. Portugal initially stayed neutral. King Joseph and Pombal had no desire to get dragged into Frederick's swordplay or Elizabeth's masquerades. Pombal had no desire to get dragged into Frederick's swordplay or Elizabeth's masquerades. But neutrality was hard when Spain was your neighbor. By 1762, with France and Spain formally allied through the Bourbon family compact, spain invaded Portugal in an attempt to force it into the Franco-Spanish camp. The result Britain rushed to Portugal's defense, sending troops and supplies. The small Portuguese army, stiffened by the British officers and soldiers, managed to hold off Spain's invasion. It was a David and Goliath moment, with David getting an assist from his giant British cousin.
Speaker 1:The 1750s is a small kingdom with a big colonial empire ruled by King Joseph I, but really driven more by the iron will of the Marquis of Pombal. Wealthy from Brazil but reeling from the Lisbon earthquake, with Britain as their oldest ally and therefore an inevitable target of Spain and France, due to the former's perpetual rival with the latter. Portugal may not have looked like a headline player, but when Spain invaded in 1762, portugal proved that even a minor power could shape the course of the war. Or to put it another way, in the great European drama, portugal may not have been Hamlet or Macbeth, but it was the stagehand who knew where the trapdoors were, and without that the show couldn't go on. So, having met all of our dramatis personae, where does it leave us?
Speaker 1:By 1748, the world looked stable enough on the surface.
Speaker 1:By 1748, the world looked stable enough on the surface.
Speaker 1:But beneath all that calm, every major power had unfinished business.
Speaker 1:The British wanted to dominate trade and empire, the French wanted to keep Britain in check and protect their colonies, austria wanted its revenge on Prussia. Prussia wanted to prove that it belonged at the table. Russia wanted respect and influence in Central Europe, spain wanted to defend its shaky empire and Portugal wanted to survive the 18th century without being consumed. Each of them had strengths, each of them had strengths, each of them had weaknesses, and together they created a balance so delicate that it was practically begging to collapse the next time someone sneezed and then, as we'll see in our next episode, the sneezing started the American backwoods when a young George Washington tall, ambitious and completely out of his depth. When a young George Washington tall, ambitious and completely out of his depth accidentally lit the fuse on what would become a truly global war. So join me next time as we march out into the Ohio Valley and watch the French and British trip over each other and see George Washington begin his career in the grand tradition of learning by failing very publicly.
