Vanished Kingdoms

by Norman Davies

  At the time, the Pays de Vaud formed part of the imperial Kingdom of Burgundy; Switzerland had not been invented. The Kingdom of France, which watched the expansion of Savoy with suspicion, was still confined to the west of the Rhône. Thanks to a common rivalry with France, however, Sabaudia developed a special relationship with England and in 1236, Count Pierre II travelled to London with his niece Eleanor of Provence, for her marriage to King Henry III. Known in England as the earl of Richmond, the count became one of the king’s favourites and leader of an influential court faction. In 1246 Henry III granted the Savoyards a manor on the banks of the Thames, halfway between the City of London and Westminster. This Savoy Manor gave rise to a thriving district, graced in due course by the Savoy Palace, the Savoy Chapel and the Savoy Hotel.13

  Count Amadeus VIII (r. 1391–1440) is celebrated on many scores. On coming of age, he formulated the statutes of his dynasty’s premier order of chivalry, the Order of the Collar, modelled (like the Burgundian Order of the Golden Fleece) on England’s Order of the Garter. Dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the Order was repeatedly to change its name, but never to drop its enigmatic motto of ‘fert’.* In 1416, the count moved up a rank in the medieval hierarchy by obtaining the title of ‘duke’ from the emperor, together with formal recognition of his independence. Shortly afterwards, he took possession of Torino (Turin), henceforth the richest item in his portfolio. He and his heirs would doggedly exploit their position as lords of the joint state of Piedmont-Savoy, ruling over lands stretching from the environs of Lyon to the source of the Rhône near Andermatt, and from the Lake of Neuchâtel to the Tyrrhenian Sea.

  Nonetheless, it could be said that the greatest achievement of Amadeus VIII, now Duke Amadeus, was to be elected pope, or at least anti-pope. After the deaths of his wife and eldest son, he had retired to the Château de Ripaille on the shores of Lake Leman, where he was living as the master of an order of knights-hermit. Fame of his saintliness spread, and in 1439 he found that an irregular conclave of cardinals, appointed by the Church Council of Basle, had raised him to the throne of St Peter. Taking the papal name of Felix V, he failed to exert his authority and resigned a decade later, accepting a cardinal’s hat in consolation.14 His position as duke, meantime, had been assumed by his second son, Louis (r. 1440–65), who raised the family’s status still higher by gaining possession of the wonder-working Shroud of Turin.15

  From the time of the duke-pope, the succession to the ducal title passed smoothly by hereditary right through fourteen generations. (The only serious difficulty arose in 1496 when the direct line became extinct; it was solved by the accession of Philippe de Bresse, lord of Bugey, the late duke’s great-uncle.) None of the dukes was more resplendent or more successful than Emanuele-Filiberto (r. 1553–80), who made Turin his permanent capital in 1563 and who greatly strengthened Italian influence throughout his dominions. Nonetheless, the devastation caused by the Franco-Imperial Habsburg wars of the sixteenth century was colossal – at the start of his reign the whole of the duchy had been occupied by the French. The Venetian ambassador to Turin reported desperate conditions:

  Uncultivated, no citizens in the cities, neither man nor beast in the fields, all the land forest-clad and wild: one sees no houses for most of them are burnt, and of nearly all the castles, only the walls are visible; and of the inhabitants once so numerous, some have died of the plague or of hunger, some by the sword, and some have fled elsewhere, preferring to beg their bread abroad.16

  The delicacy of the duke’s predicament can be judged by the fact that he served as an imperial general while married to the sister of the French king. His fortunes were restored by his victory at the head of Spanish forces at Saint-Quentin in August 1557; the full restitution of his lands following the Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis (1559) permitted him to dispense with income granted by the duchy’s Estates and to rule as an absolute monarch. By skilful diplomacy, he persuaded the French to vacate the fortress of Pinerolo, the Spaniards to leave Asti, and, at the cost of abandoning the Vaud, the Bernese to restore Gex, the Chablais and the Genevois. A form of Italian now became the main language of administration and education, and the ruling house identified ever more strongly with its Italian name of Casa Savoia.

  In the early seventeenth century a Francophile and Francophone reaction grew in strength in the duchy’s Savoyard districts. The Académie Florimontane, founded at Annecy in 1606, served as an inspiration for the Académie Française founded in Paris twenty-nine years later by Cardinal Richelieu, and served as a counterbalance to official, Italianate influence. Conflicts between Catholics and Protestants also arose. St Francis de Sales (1567–1622), born in the Château de Thorens near Annecy, made his saintly name by calming religious passions. Originally a pupil of the Jesuits, he studied in both Paris and Padua before returning to Annecy and devoting himself to ‘the devout life’. His sermons were spellbinding, his books beautifully written and his peaceable methods of evangelism inspired numerous Catholic Orders, including the Sisters of the Visitation of Holy Mary, the Missionaries of St Francis and the Salesians of Don Bosco. In due course he became bishop of Geneva, although based in Annecy because the city of Geneva remained in Calvinist hands. He was named patron of the deaf on account of his invention of a sign language.17

  Despite de Sales’ example, religion continued to be the source of major conflict. A non-Catholic Christian community, the Valdenses or Vaudois, that long antedated the Protestant Reformation, had taken deep root in the Alpine valleys. In the sixteenth century the Valdenses joined forces with the Calvinists, and probably represented a majority of Christian believers in the duchy’s Alpine districts. The Counter-Reformation authorities were determined to eradicate them. In 1535 they had been extirpated in French-ruled Provence, and long awaited a similar fate in Switzerland. It was eventually inflicted upon them by Duke Carlo Emanuele II in 1655. The duke’s army took up positions, and drove its victims to the heads of the valleys, then, at 4 a.m. on 24 April, proceeded to a general massacre. It was a bloodbath such as Europe had not seen since the massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve eighty years before. Protestant Europe was outraged. Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector of the British Isles, threatened to intervene; Cromwell’s Latin secretary, John Milton, composed a sonnet, ‘On the late Massacher in Piemont’:

  Avenge O Lord thy slaughter’d Saints, whose bones

  Lie scatter’d on the Alpine mountains cold,

  Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old

  When all our Fathers worship’t Stocks and Stones,

  Forget not: in thy book record their groanes

  Who were thy Sheep in their antient Fold

  Slayn by the bloody Piemontese that roll’d

  Mother with infant down the Rocks. Their moans

  The Vales redoubl’d to the Hills, and they

  To Heav’n. Their martyr’d blood and ashes sow

  O’re all th’Italian fields where still doth sway

  The triple Tyrant: that from there may grow

  A hunder’d-fold, who having learnt their way

  Early may fly the Babylonian wo.

  Astonishingly, no general amnesty was granted to the Vaudois until 1848.

  Nothing seemed to bring any serious interruption to the onward march of the Casa Savoia. From 1630 the dukes had assumed the additional title of ‘princes of Carignano’, a lowly Piedmontese village, and henceforth as self-styled ‘prince-dukes’ were buried in a purpose-built mausoleum within the cathedral complex in Turin. The widowed queen-regent, Marie-Christine de France (d. 1663), ‘Madama Reale’, was a dominant figure in the mid-seventeenth century. It was for her that the ducal palace in Turin was misleadingly named the ‘Palazzo Reale’. The domed San Sidone chapel (1694) was constructed to provide a suitable setting for the Shroud. The dynasty’s sense of self-importance was plain to see.

  Madama Reale’s son, Carlo Emanuele II (r. 1638–75), extirpator of the Vaudois, also set his heart on strengthening access to the Mediterranean seaboard
. Thwarted in a war with Genoa, he chose instead to develop the port of Nizza/Nice, to which he built a transalpine road over the Col de Tende.18 The three different parts of the duchy – Savoy, ‘New Provence’ (Nice) and Piedmont – were heading towards economic as well as political integration. Their borders had stabilized, and when Switzerland gained international recognition at the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, the House of Savoy resigned all thoughts of recovering any parts of the new state that it had once possessed. Prince Eugene of Savoy (1663–1736), the greatest military commander of the early eighteenth century, was one of Carlo Emanuele’s grandsons.19

  It was Prince-Duke Vittorio Amadeo II/Victor Amadeus II (r. 1675–1730) who finally secured a royal throne, by manoeuvring astutely during the War of the Spanish Succession. At the Treaty of Utrecht (1713), he was among the beneficiaries, being rewarded with the ex-Spanish Kingdom of Sicily – hardly the most convenient of acquisitions, but newly anointed monarchs cannot afford to look a cavallo di presente in the mouth. The obvious policy was to accept the gift graciously, to bask in the title of ‘king of Sicily’ and to bide one’s time.

  An excellent opportunity arrived only five years later. The Casa Savoia was not alone in its dissatisfaction with its gains from Utrecht, and during the territorial redistribution that took place during preparations for the Treaty of The Hague (1720), it proved possible to do business with the Austrians, specifically to swap Sicily for Sardinia. The arrangement was still not ideal, but it made the dynasty’s territorial agglomeration slightly more cohesive, while preserving the monarch’s all-important royal status. For the next eighty years, as ‘kings of Sardinia’, the heirs of Vittorio Amadeo II could enjoy the uninterrupted fruits of their second kingdom in the curious configuration of Piedmont-Savoy-Nice and Sardinia.20

  More stable conditions in the eighteenth century raised the House of Savoy to its apogee. Apart from the strange attempt of Vittorio Amadeo II to reclaim his throne after abdicating and retiring to Chambéry with his mistress, there were no dynastic crises; there were no destructive wars, and there was plenty of room for improvement and steady enrichment. Carlo Emanuele III (r. 1730–73) proved himself an able administrator and diplomat, confining his involvement in the Wars of the Polish and Austrian Successions to limited and lucrative campaigns. His son, Vittorio Amadeo III (r. 1773–96) was religiously devout, politically conservative and temperamentally generous, being a great benefactor and a popular ‘Father of his People’. Their kingdom could not be counted among Europe’s greatest powers, but it was sturdily independent and frequently courted as an ally. A British strategist, surveying the state of the Continent in 1761, rated it highly:

  The Dominions of His Sardinian Majesty, considered as Duke of Savoy and Prince of Piedmont, have always been regarded as the Key of Italy… and in latter times this Prince has been justly looked upon as the natural Master of the Ballance in Italy… Because of its being His interest to affect Peace rather than War, Reason and Experience dictate that he will never want Allies… for the Preservation of His Territories.21

  The resources at the king’s disposal impressed the foreign observer:

  The island of Sardinia, next to Sicily, is the largest in the Mediterranean… The people are rough and unpolished, but live in a kind of barbarous Plenty, which, affording them much Meat and little Labour, they look on their Island as a Paradise from which they are drawn with Reluctancy… The Dutchy of Savoy is a large but far from fruitful Country; however, the Inhabitants are a hardy and laborious People, and by their Industry subsist tolerably well. The Principality of Piedmont is very large and the best part of it very fertile and well-cultivated, much less exposed than Savoy… very strong by Nature and well fortified by Art. Turin, which is the royal residence, is a very large and beautiful city standing by the River Po and admirably well fortified. The County of Nice is less fruitful but of great importance as it is the only [continental] Part… which lies upon the Sea… The districts acquired from the Dutchy of Milan have augmented both the Power and the Revenue of his Sardinian Majesty, so he is justly esteemed one of the most considerable Potentates…

  The Commerce of these Countries was scarce worthy of Notice, but by degrees Things have been very much changed. The Staple Commodity of Piedmont is a kind of Silk indispensably necessary in many Manufactures… The Navigation of the Po enables the inhabitants of Turin to carry on considerable Trade to Venice… Besides all these, His Sardinian Majesty has gradually and silently possessed himself of all the Passages whereby the Inland Trade is carried on between France and Italy, and having it in his Power to lay what Duties he thinks proper, derives thence an additional Revenue, keeping the neighbouring States in a kind of Dependence…

  Even as Things stand now, it is apparent that the Territories of this Monarch are very populous, and the People of Savoy and of the Vallies are naturally martial, so that under these last two reigns a very considerable Army of regular Troops has been kept up, and the King can never be at a loss to bring forty or fifty Thousand Men into the Field when Occasion require it… Besides this, the Fortresses of Piedmont are in so good order that his Sardinian Majesty can always make a Stand until supported by the Autrians… Upon these Principles, therefore, we may safely lay it down that… he is one of the great powers of Italy.”22

  The rosy tone of this account may be explained in part by its author’s wish to encourage an alliance between Great Britain and the House of Savoy. But it was by no means eccentric in seeing that ‘Sardinia’, like its northern counterpart ‘Prussia’, was currently moving up the international league table. Progress continued for another generation until Vittorio Amadeo III put everything at risk by declaring war on revolutionary France.

  Ever since France’s Italian wars of the late fifteenth century, French troops on their way down the Italian peninsula had repeatedly marched through Savoy and Piedmont, sometimes staying for decades at a time. But Napoleon’s ‘Army of Italy’, which crossed the Alps in 1796, brought a new dimension to the practice. The troops of the revolutionary French Republic were intent on sweeping away all the anciens régimes which they encountered, and they spared the Roman Catholic Church no mercy. The abbey of Hautecombe, for example, was sacked, and turned into a tile factory. Savoy was annexed to the French Republic as the Département du Mont-Blanc, without a fight; Piedmont was turned into a French military district; a Département des Alpes-Maritimes was formed round Nice; and the ‘king of Sardinia’ with his son and heir were driven out of their mainland dominions and forced to live in exile in the Sardinian rump of their kingdom. All these drastic arrangements proved temporary.

  The general restoration of Europe’s monarchies that followed Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo was confirmed by the Congress of Vienna (1815), and the exiled king of Sardinia was not forgotten. He recovered his lost lands, returned to Turin, and promptly attempted the restoration of the status quo ante. Yet post-Napoleonic Europe was very different from pre-revolutionary Europe. Many of the ideas spawned and exported by the French Revolution continued to circulate, posing a near-ubiquitous challenge to the natural conservatism of the restored monarchs. The ideas of ‘the nation’, endowed with a life of its own, and of the inborn right of its inhabitants to liberty, equality and social fraternity, were particularly strong, beginning to undermine the post-Napoleonic order as soon as it was established. Three parts of Europe where ‘the nation’ felt most excluded from politics were specially susceptible; and popular demands grew for the creation of nation-states on the French model. Poland, which had been carved up by three neighbouring empires (see pp. 285–90), was to strive in vain throughout the nineteenth century to win back its independence; but Germany and Italy were to succeed where Poland failed. Germany was divided by the intense rivalry of Protestant Prussia and Catholic Austria; advocates of the German national movement, the Vormärz (‘pre-March’), could at first see no easy way to do so. Italy’s divisions were still more marked. The north was dominated by the Austrian Empire, which held onto bot
h Venice and Milan; the centre was run by a gaggle of reactionary monarchs, including the Roman pontiff in his Papal States; and the south remained in the grip of the Bourbon Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. In face of the restored hereditary rulers, the advocates of the Italian national movement, the Risorgimento or ‘Resurgence’, did not possess a common strategy.

  For Italian nationalism encompassed several competing interests. One wing placed the emphasis on cultural objectives, notably on education, the promotion of a single, standardized Italian language, and the promotion of national consciousness. The central figure in this was the Milanese writer, Alessandro Manzoni (1785–1873), author of the first novel written in standard Italian, I promessi sposi (The Betrothed, 1827). Another wing was dedicated to political radicalism. Here the central role was played by the secret and revolutionary Society of the Coalburners, the Carbonari, whose activities were formally banned; one of its members, a Sicilian soldier called Guglielmo Pepe (1783–1855), launched the first of many abortive risings in Calabria in 1820. There was even a tradition of support for the Risorgimento by ruling monarchs; Napoleon’s stepson and viceroy in Italy, Eugène de Beauharnais, had set the example, which was followed by the emperor’s brother-in-law, Joachim Murat, when King of Naples (see p. 523, below). It seemed to create the perceived need for a political patron of established authority, who could curb the hotheads while giving heart to the moderates and negotiating with the powers.