Chapter 53: An unexpected return
10 December 1719, Chancellor's office, Rome
Antonio di Farnese, the Chancellor of the Empire of Italy, reflected on how much his life had changed in the past year. He'd had to bury the Empress, Isabella di Farnese, who had never quite accepted her husband's disappearance. She had never been particularly beloved by her people, as she had never renounced her Aragonese origins. With the annexation of her former homeland, she simply had nothing to live for. For Antonio and Marshal de Ruyter, it was particularly problematic, as it removed the one real challenger to Giuseppe as heir to the throne. Giuseppe still remained ignorant of Francis III's departure, but his irrational requests had grown much more difficult to fill. He'd forced a close personal friend, Niccolo Conti, into the Imperial Cabinet.
It wasn't that Conti wasn't talented -- he most certainly was. Francesco Malaspina had grown ill over the past few months, and some predicted he would not live to see 1720. The new Deputy Foreign Minister's appointment, however, had some unintended consequences. Somebody had to be fired to put Conti in a position, and Raniero Doria di Cirie drew the short straw. The former Commandant had taken his divorce very badly and turned increasingly to strong drink. The Germanicus Academy had provided an all-time low in capable officers, many of whom bought their commissions. For such a formerly brilliant leader to fall so far so quickly badly shocked the military. The legions were the rock of the Empire; if they broke down, what fate would befall the Empire of Italy?
An odd request complicated Antonio's life even more.
Antonio carefully examined the note, but there was no signature. He swore in frustration. He turned to a clerk and demanded to see who had delivered the letter. The clerk waved in an unassuming monk.
"Now, Brother, I appreciate your concerns for the Empire, but you have no... place..." He couldn't finish his thought.
The monk had removed his hood, and revealed his true identity. "I am so sorry to come back this way, Antonio." The Emperor of Italy, Francis III had returned.
Antonio was both delighted and terrified. Delighted that he no longer had to bear the unconscionable burden of being co-Emperor, but terrified at why Francis had returned. The Emperor noted the look on his Chancellor's face and smiled gently.
"Antonio, I know you and Constantijn have undergone serious trials on my behalf. When I abdicated my position over four years ago, I was a man in conflict with the world and himself. I had never intended to return, but simply to live out my days quietly at the Monastery of St. Maso. But I have heard too much of my supposed heir's meddling. I spoke with the Abbott about this, a fine man named Paul, and he told me to follow my true calling. That is why I am ready to assume the mantle of Emperor once again."
Antonio marveled at the quiet confidence of the man standing in front of him. It was unmistakably his cousin, but the mental and spiritual transformation could not have been more complete. He no longer looked like a man crushed by the weight of expectations -- Antonio had recognized that look in the mirror multiple times -- but one at peace with himself and his world. He nodded. "Emperor, this was always your Empire; the Marshal and I simply looked after it for a while."
"And I shall not forget it. I do want Tirol annexed into our kingdom, but peaceably. I am also signing a decree mandating stronger attention for all citizens of our Empire to their religious duties. These are trying times, and I think many of our citizens will find comfort, as I have, in the Lord."
At that moment, Marshal de Ruyter burst into the office to update the Chancellor on the latest news in the war against the Timurids.
"Chancellor, we have just won a mighty battle against the barbarians at Laristan! Our victory is at --" The Dutchman dropped his reports and stared in disbelief.
The Emperor smiled. "Good afternoon, Marshal."
Antonio couldn't resist a chuckle as the Marshal continued to stare, dumbfounded. He took the Marshal into his office to explain exactly what had happened.
The Emperor had returned!
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1 September 1720, Foreign Minister's office, Rome
Niccolo Conti smiled at his newest assistant and the newest member of the Imperial Cabinet, Rodolfo Sfondrati.
Rodolfo had had an undistinguished career in the legions, never rising above Lieutenant. By the age of 30, he had no idea what to do with his life. His father, Galeazzo Maria, had been a General in 1660. If he hadn't died in 1715, he would have looked with shame upon his son. Then, a surprise posting changed his career. When the Russo-Italian Pact was signed, the Russians had asked for assistance with a war against the Mongol Khanate.
The Emperor had initially wished to ignore the problem, but when Russia offered to give Italy leadership in the war, Francis III had no choice but to send along an officer to monitor negotiations. By an odd stroke of luck, Rodolfo drew the assignment. The Khan took one look at Rodolfo, who was uncommonly large for an Italian at 6'8", and immediately ordered his horde to retreat, thinking all Italian soldiers were that large. Equally impressed was Niccolo Conti, who discovered that Rodolfo had an excellent gift for speech as well as languages. Soon, when Niccolo earned a promotion to Foreign Minister after Minister Malaspina's death, Rodolfo was made Deputy Foreign Minister and given the open spot in the Cabinet. Jean-Baptiste de Neuchâtel was a little irritated that as Interior Minister he was passed over, but the Emperor smoothed things over by giving him a surprising new job: he was made Proconsul of Transdanubia, which included his former home in Switzerland. Francis III disbanded the Interior Ministry once and for all. For Rodolfo, things could not have been better. He'd even been the one to accept the defection of Laristan to Italy, a great honor that a mere Lieutenant would never have gotten.
Only one black cloud hung over the Empire of Italy; the unexpected death of Field Marshal Benedetto Visconti. The Marshal, not being a fool, refused to promote the glory hound Vittorio Vico to Field Marshal, but there were also not really any other great candidates. Brutus Contadino had been a staff officer for most of his career, and although nobody doubted his courage, his inexperience might have caused dissension in the ranks. Colonel Jean-Louis de Lafayette was a possible candidate, but promoting a non-General up to Field Marshal would have caused political chaos. That gave Constantijn de Ruyter three unappetizing options: an idiot, a rookie, and a Colonel. He prayed that a new Colonel would demonstrate the skill to be promoted to General and ease his mind. For now, he simply took over the office himself.
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4 January 1725, London, Britannia provincia
Jean-Louis Lafayette was not the least bit concerned about his career. He rather enjoyed being sort of a "Super-Colonel", still able to go in the field and have everybody's respect while simultaneously earning a nice salary. He lived very simply, had no wife, no children, and in truth wanted neither. When important assignments came up, like the creation of a new legion, the Legio XXXVII "O'Connor" in this instance, his name was always the first one called. The Colonel enjoyed a nice relaxing post and had time to work on some military tactics he'd always wanted to try. Although he greatly respected the late Field Marshal Visconti, he was no fan of defensive fighting, and had trained his new legion to be much more aggressive.
With territory all over the Empire coring, including Savoie, Nice, and the land taken from Castille in North Africa, some soldiers might have been unhappy or bored. However, heresy had broken out in Lancashire, so he found himself on constant alert for a possible uprising. The Empire was also in three wars, although none were particularly threatening.
While idiots like Vittorio Vico constantly argued for things to stay the same, the Colonel had as respectfully as possible disagreed with his nominal superior.
Unknown to the Colonel, who'd been out of Italy since early 1719, Vico was in no position to continue the arguments he'd once so vociferously carried on. He, like many others in Rome, suffered from an unexpected outbreak of the plague.
Vico was going to recover, but the close brush with death had changed his attitude towards service, so much so that he'd actually withdrawn his name as a candidate for Field Marshal and endorsed his former opponent. When Colonel Lafayette got his mail next, he found a very surprising -- but pleasing -- letter.
Dear Colonel Lafayette,
It has come to my attention that you have toiled as a Colonel for years with little progress in your career. One of the truest joys any Emperor can have is to reward excellent service. With many knowledgeable and trustworthy officers speaking so highly of you, it is my pleasure to appoint you, by my decree, as Field Marshal of the Empire of Italy. Please report to Florence as soon as you can.
Francis III, Emperor of Italy, King of Burgundy and France, etc., etc.
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24 May 1725, Constantinople
As part of his connection with God, the Emperor had decreed that a portion of the yearly income would be devoted to support Bishops throughout the Empire.
The new Bishop of Constantinople had barely begun his duties when he was called upon to deal with a very uncommon situation; he was to say Last Rites for two very unusual men: Raniero Doria, ex-Commandant, and Prince Giuseppe di Farnese.
Raniero Doria, who'd survived the Roman Plague narrowly, had retreated to Constantinople, where he'd hoped to get a fresh start, but Raniero found obstacles at every turn. His drinking grew worse and worse, and he'd been near suicide when a family friend had offered him a job guiding hunting parties. The job had gone relatively well and he'd even started to turn away from wine. Then he made one mistake: he'd led a hunting party for the Prince into the wrong part of the woods. It was a very minor problem, but to the Prince, even the slightest convenience was nothing less than cause for a tantrum. Doria had his life destroyed again, twice by the same man. It was too much for him to take; he knew if the Prince blacklisted him, he'd never earn another job again. So he arranged an "accident", but he was too quickly detected. He was quickly arrested and executed for killing somebody that most people would have agreed needed killing more than most.
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20 June 1731, Rome
Antonio di Farnese, Chancellor of the Empire, broke down for the third time in three years. He was rapidly losing everybody he'd ever cared about, and he was in serious danger of losing his mind. It all began when he and his wife had finally had their first child in 1725.
By 1729, Cosimo had been officially named Prince of the Empire and Heir to the Throne by a delighted Emperor. He was happy and healthy and had a bright future ahead of him. Antonio was preparing to head to the new World to open negotiations with Scotland over a boundary dispute over the colony of Swampy Cree. His wife and son were coming along, which meant he'd get to spend some quality time with his family for the first time in a very long time. As the ship sailed west, Antonio was happier than he'd ever been. That all changed.
The ship wrecked just as it cleared Andalucia's harbor. The only survivor was the Chancellor. A tavern wench in Andalucia consoled him after his ordeal, floating in the Atlantic Ocean for eleven hours, and before his wife was even confirmed dead, he'd gotten another girl pregnant. He stayed in Andalucia until the new child was born, Gian Galeazzo di Farnese. He hadn't yet married the girl, who was named Bella, but he had every intention of doing so as soon as they could return to Rome. Unfortunately, she'd died in childbirth, leaving Antonio alone with a new baby to raise. He did seem unusually intelligent, but Antonio considered that little comfort.
That left only one family member for Antonio to turn to; his cousin and Emperor, Francis III. Neither had much in the way of family, and so they drew very close. For two years, they were as close as if they were father and son. The Emperor kept Antonio close at home, asking Foreign Minister Conti to accept more and more duties while Antonio raised his son. Niccolo negotiated peace treaties with Funj and Ethiopia, getting each to concede defeat. Meanwhile, the Emperor had named the Chancellor's son Heir to the Throne, since Francis had no children.
Tragedy struck a third and final time. Even after the incident, Antonio couldn't come to terms with what had happened. His mind was whirling.
Francis had begun favoring walks alone as he grew older, so that he could commune with God. His doctors had advised against that, insisting he at least take a guard along, and time and time again Francis had relented. But this one time, he snuck out alone. Within a few hours, a palace maid screamed. The Emperor was dead.
The doctors found a dead bee a few inches away from the Emperor. The mightiest man in the world felled by one of the smallest of God's creatures. For Antonio, it was almost too much. He even thought about taking his own life, a thought that had never crept into his head before, even after losing his first child or his second love. Only one thing kept him from taking that decision, and just barely:
He was his son's Regent, which meant for the next 12 or 13 years, he was effectively the Emperor, and this time without a co-Emperor to rely upon.
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I had to play a little fast and loose with timing for some of the earliest events, but I'm claiming poetic license here. The new mission and NI came first, not the selection of Conti. For those wondering why I took CAD, it's because I'm an idiot and forgot that Gilded Iconography doesn't work if you're Protestant.
There's a Pretender to the Throne, but he's got 2 regiments and is quickly put down. Also, for fans of my other AAR, Descent into Madness, I took particular pleasure in Bohemia's collapse; they got dogpiled on after the beating they took a few years ago from me. I'd include pictures, but I'm at 20, so sorry.
Next up is the regency; it might be a bit dull, but I'll try to keep it as interesting as possible!
