Chapter 58: The end... or is it?*
*I couldn't resist
1 January 1794, my office, Rome
I have to control myself. I'm not a young man any more, so getting angry won't accomplish anything. I can't believe that I've been forced into this. I suspected John IV, Emperor or not, was a weakling and a coward when he decided to give in to the men who killed his father. He threw around nonsense like "We don't actually know which party is guilty," but I want to be honest here: he would be the only one who didn't. Matteo Sfondrati, the demagogue, has been crowing like the cat who ate the canary, claiming that God reached down and smote the Emperor for besmirching the will of people. Cosimo is doing his best to keep a measure of sanity in Rome, and the Optimates and Militares still maintain a firm hold on the Senate. What they don't have a firm hold on is the mob. Worst of all, the one person who could legally take command of this situation -- the Emperor, whether he's a sniveling wretch or not -- has fled to our colonies in the New World!
I admire the Chancellor immensely -- he's even announcing a new program of economic reform based on the works of the Scottish philosopher Adam Smith -- but I know he can't do this alone.
Prince Rodolfo is in Constantinople right now. It would take him a couple of months to pack up his things and return to Rome if we sent a letter to him today; we don't have two months. I have to consider the alternative; I have to consider what will happen if I don't do something. I hope God and my children forgive me.
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28 April 1794, Imperial Palace, Rome
I'm not proud of what I did, but at least I succeeded. History is much kinder to revolutions than rebellions, to patriots than traitors. Up until the moment I entered Rome and crossed under the Arch of Constantine, I feared for my life and those who supported me. If you're reading this after my death, you may not know what I'm referring to. I pray you don't. However, I cannot fairly share an account of my life without the most important thing I've ever done.
I marched on Rome. I took two legions, seized the city, and proclaimed myself the Regent for Prince Rodolfo. The so-called Emperor John IV remains in hiding over the Atlantic.
Now that it's done, I'm a little surprised it was so easy. My soldiers must truly believe in the vision of Rome reborn, as not a single one questioned me. That speech was the most difficult I've ever given in my life. In February, I sent orders out to every legion that the pretender had failed and to return to their posts; none were to return under the command of any Italian except myself or the Emperor. If John IV had returned, I would likely be dead at this moment. Instead, I am, for all intents and purposes, the Emperor of Italy. Many of the Senators -- even the Populares -- were actually happy to have some order return to the city. They were less pleased with immediate actions, but then, I had the loyalty of the armies of Rome; they had nothing.
I want to be very clear on this point. I did not "disband the Senate" as the coward Sfondrati calls from his hiding place. What I did was restore it -- restore it to the purpose it had been originally intended. First, I ordered a military tribunal to deal with those who killed Marius I. Like all military justice, it was sure and swift. Next, I stripped the Senate of all non-domestic powers and formally decreed that they could never regain them without the approval of the Emperor. The Senate still argues every day, but they argue about administration like good bureaucrats. Finally, I formally exiled the rabble rouser Sfondrati. He'd already gone and ran away, and he's still technically on the Imperial payroll as a Philosopher, but his political power is gone. That's all I've done and that's all I will do.
Cosimo couldn't openly support my takeover, and I don't blame him for it. His life would have been forfeit had I failed, and I hoped that he would look after Julia and the children if I failed. Now that I am in power, however, Cosimo is going to look after Rome while I travel to Constantinople. I hate being in power. My soldiers have mockingly saluted me in Roman fashion with "Hail, Caesar!" at every turn. I can't get too mad at them, since I'd be dead without them, but it is a little annoying. My plan is to get Rodolfo's sanction, if not bring the Prince back to Rome. I have no intention of telling John IV, and while he'll doubtless get word of my actions, I know he won't do anything about it.
If only Rodolfo had been born a few years older, John IV could have been the bean counter he's always wanted to be. I'm sure he'd even be good at it. He's no Emperor, though.
Of course, Rodolfo could have me executed on the spot for my impertinence. He'd have every right to. I pray he'll listen to reason, but if he doesn't, I'd rather be killed like a man than wither away like a plant.
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1 February 1796, coronation of the new Emperor
I was too young to attend the coronation of Marius I, so I can honestly say this has been the first coronation I've been proud to attend.
The new Emperor has taken an interesting name; instead of Rudolphus, which would be the Latin equivalent of his own name, he's chosen something far more ambitious: Julius II. Julius I wasn't just the longest reigning Emperor in history; he's one of only two with the appellation "Magnus." I admire his ambition and his spirit. He's made some other key decisions too. His own father, Marius I, has been named "Liberator" for his role in keeping the independent nations of America alive. I think he would have liked that. He also officially pardoned me, saying that I was acting with his wishes the entire time. He had John IV declared dead in absentia; since he's been gone with no word for three years, I think that's fair. The official historian has termed my brief rule "The Restoration", which has a lovely ring to it.
We also have a new target; Austria appears exceptionally weak, and if her provinces near Russia are liberated, we are sure to be able to claim a most elusive prize: Vienna.
Matteo Sfondrati returned to the city with his tail between his legs, so to speak. He swears that he has learned his lesson and that he will speak no longer against the Empire. With the Emperor's permission, I was given a very special honor, one I shall forever cherish.
I was allowed to make certain he never speaks again. I cut out his tongue with my own knife. I still think it's too good for him, but I will not question the Emperor.
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17 June 1797, my office, Rome
Finally! Our wait is over! The Austrian Empire collapsed, freeing Polotsk in the process. More importantly, the fools fled from Europe, making a new capital across the Atlantic.
It is a relief to deal with strictly military problems for once. The Emperor himself has decided to lead the "Holy" Legion into battle. I admire his courage and curse my age, that I cannot join him.
My children are doing well, too. Kathleen has been commissioned by some rich fool to write a book about my life. Me, a simple soldier, having a book written about him? I called it the purest form of nonsense and told her so. She laughed at me and asked me for a copy of this journal. I'm sure she will do the subject justice; I'm just not sure I deserve it. Still, at least I can understand what he's doing. Alexander is always trying to tell me about his work, and I still can't quite grasp it. He's studying some Scottish fellow's design of some new type of motor. He insists it could drive a boat with no wind! Imagine such a device; now I know why my colleagues in the navy are so enthusiastic about it. It's apparently too large to fit into a boat now, but he's thinking of all kinds of other uses for it. I think his head's in the clouds, but he's got a good respectable job that pays well. That's more than some can say, I suppose.
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28 November 1797, Vienna, Transdanubia
I insisted on this trip. Cosimo chuckled and asked if I was getting senile in my old age. Hah! I'm only 62; he's at least five years older. He's one to talk! All kidding aside, I am proud to say that Vienna has been integrated into a proper Empire, for once.
The Emperor's victory over the Austrian troops was disappointingly easy; he actually joked that I was making up the tales of the fierce resistance Austria once provided. The Bohemians have entered the war, but I cannot seriously imagine that they will fight to restore a pitiful part of their Damned German Empire. Julius II has bigger plans for Italy than dismantling the Damned German Empire; it's a pity, but I can't say I entirely blame him. He wants to make sure we've completed the Roman Empire before we go adventuring any farther than we already have. That's fair.
He's also made the Senate's role much simpler to understand. They are, in effect, an extension of the Chancellor now. The Chancellor is in charge of all domestic affairs; the Senate answers questions and assists the Proconsuls operating the provinciae. The factions have mostly dissolved of their own accord; I think that is best. In exchange, the Senators have been given a salary increase, so that they can stay in Rome year round and not have to return home to manage some business or farm. More importantly, the Emperor hasn't restored the old nobility or expanded the Senate, both of which had been threatened at various points. Instead, he cashiered the nobles who did not become Senators -- a goodly number, but not as many as you'd think -- or attached to the staff of the Proconsuls. The provincial administrators were still appointed by the Emperor, even if everything below them was elected by the people.
I've made an important decision of my own; I'm going to be retiring from the army after this war with Bohemia, which will surely be only a few weeks longer. I'm too old, and with no Field Marshal below me, General de Ruyter has been twiddling his thumbs for a chance to get promoted. I really wish Julius II would restore the rank, but with so few wars and so few real opponents, I can't say I blame him too much.
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24 December 1797, my office, Rome
Christmas Eve and I'm stuck in the office filling out paperwork. Makes a man want to scream! Not as much as the disastrous battle of Ostmarch, though.
The Emperor was at home -- his son, Ferdinando, was ill -- so he decided to allow a Burgundian general lead the attack. Well, you can see the results. I'll be damned if the stupid frog didn't screw things up! Even though many of those troops were French, quite a few were Italians. I tore the "general" a new one, and the Emperor even demanded that the Duke of Burgundy fire the incompetent fool. He's their Emperor too, whether they like it or not. I appointed my old general's son, Filippo Maria Cybo to the army, and the effects of real Italian leadership were demonstrated to the Bohemians at the Battle of Vienna.
I've never seen Julius so mad. He's even been muttering, darkly, about the problems of leaving them even nominally independent for so long. He also swore that they wouldn't even have that for too much longer. We cannot have a Roman Empire without Gaul, he's often said. I think he means it.
I pity the French and Burgundians if they think he doesn't.
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10 October 1800, Office of the Minister of War, Rome
Once Savoy -- still the Damned German Emperor and thus the war leader -- sued for peace in early 1798, I officially retired, handing the Marshal's baton to General -- excuse me -- Marshal Bartolomeo de Ruyter. I intended to use the time to work on my journal here, and talk with Kathleen about her book. The Emperor had other ideas. He went and made me the Minister of War. Cosimo has had dozens of hearty laughs over being my boss now; it's been so long since I've had a boss that I nearly told him where to stuff it. Still, the work is great. I get to play soldier from time to time, but my actual duties mostly have me talking with Cosimo or the Emperor about the army. If we need extra funds, we still go through the Senate, which I respect. The ancient Roman Senate had the power of the purse and so does ours, which is completely fair.
I almost feel badly about Austria now; Scotland has actually proclaimed overlordship over them, and the Austrians couldn't do a thing about it.
Alexander tells me his new toy is ready for testing; I've seen the massive thing, and it certainly produces a lot of smoke, but I don't see what use the blasted thing is. Alexander looks so proud when watches it run; the last time I saw him that proud was when he held his infant son in his hands. It's different being a grandfather than it was as a father, but I find I enjoy. Little Franklin is so delighted by everything. He loves my shiny old uniform and plays with the hat all the time. I'm glad Alexander found somebody. I never would have expected that person would be a Russian of all people, but Tatiana is a good woman, and it gives me a chance to practice my now incredibly rusty Russian.
Life couldn't be much better for me than it is now.
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14 April 1801, Office of the Chancellor, Rome
I had no idea how true the words in my last entry would be. I've lost two of the people I cared about most, and in very short succession. Julia died three months ago; my best friend, Cosimo, this morning.
His replacement as Foreign Minister is Antonio Spinola; I've talked with him a few times, and he seems a very good man. The Emperor has appointed me as interim Chancellor until we can find a new one.
This is so unfair! Why has God taken my wife and my best friend from me? Haven't I earned a bit of a break? Haven't I earned some genuine happiness after so much heartache? Haven't I
[The rest of this entry is smudged with tears. I never had the courage to ask my father about them before his death. -- Kathleen O'Connor]
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19 October 1802, Chancellor's office, Rome
It's getting harder and harder to wake up every morning. I barely have the energy to even write in this journal, even when there's good news like today. The very brief war against Catalunya, declared on 4 September, is already over.
I suppose they'll do fine; ever since the Emperor decreed his Bill of Rights, minorities in the Empire have had things a great deal better. I think he hopes to have Gaul join the Empire peacefully; I'm not as optimistic as he is, but he does know best.
Alexander and Kathleen are so good to me; Kathleen found herself a husband, a Praetor from Genoa named Alessandre Borghese. I've only met him a couple of times, but if she thinks he's good enough, I do too. She insists on keeping the O'Connor name -- she goes by Borghese-O'Connor or some such modern nonsense -- but she's happy, and that's all that matters. That's all a father can do this at stage; hope that his children are happy.
I won't be around much longer; it will be all I can do to make it to my 70th birthday. At least I'll get to see Julia again...
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12 November 1804, family home, Florence
This is going to be my last journal entry. It's taken a great deal of strength just to pick up my pen, but if anybody is going to finish my journal, it is me. Alessandre, Kathleen's husband, was named Minister of Justice today and Chancellor of the Empire. The more I talk with him, the more confident I am that the Emperor made an excellent choice.
It turns out he's from Cordoba, not from Genoa. I never would have thought that, as he speaks flawless Italian and doesn't look like a Spaniard. I guess his parents were from Genoa, but his father was part of the army that took Cordoba. Alessandre was born there. That's nothing new; soldiers find love and comfort wherever we can.
The kids have been just wonderful. I can tell they're sad, but I'm always telling them not to be. Their mother will still look after them, make sure they get a good dinner. I just hope Alexander doesn't stay up too late; he's got school tomorrow and he's really excited about some new science project. I wonder if Kathleen will ever find a man? She's such a tomboy.
[The entry goes on like this for a page or two; out of respect for my father's memory, I've decided not to reproduce it here. In his final days, he had a lot of difficulty distinguishing the past and the present. What follows are the last words ever written by his pen -- Kathleen O'Connor.]
It's 8 PM. It looks like I won't make it to 70. That's okay; I've lived as full a life as any man could ever want. God will look after my family. There are so many friends waiting for me... Julia, Cosimo, Commander Cicero, General Cybo, maybe even Marius I will have a word or two with me.
Yes, Centurion! My men and I will ford the river at your command!
FOR THE GLORY OF THE EMPIRE!
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1 January 1821, Postscript
When I decided to publish my father's journal, I prayed for four solid hours. I finished the book the year before he died; he seemed to like it a lot, and the Emperor himself has a copy on his shelf. Julius II has always looked after my family, and he continues to do so to this day. He put a lot of his most private thoughts in here, and I wasn't at all sure he would want them known. I've written more books about our family's history, but I think this journal will probably my greatest achievement, even if I don't deserve any of it. My father is the greatest man I have ever known, and I hope my husband, my brother, and the Emperor will forgive me.
He doesn't talk much about Alexander or me in these pages, or so it might seem to you. I didn't understand at the time, but I do now: he intended to be buried with the memories he had of my mother, my brother, and me. His will specifically asked me, as the executor, to remove a very specific collection of entries, and that's what I did. In his final days, he had very little concept of time, and all he had was the journal. I can only hope he's sharing them in Heaven with Mother.
The Empire didn't change much after his last entry. Julius II did finally convince all the vassals of Italy to accept integration into the Empire, his life's greatest wish. He's not Emperor any more; he abdicated in favor of his son, Ferdinand I, earlier today. I'm not sure why he did; he's in perfect health, and if the truth be known, Ferdinand is hardly the man his father is. IN FACT HE IS THE GREATEST EMPEROR OF ALL TIME. Still, I respect Julius too much to expect that he doesn't have his reasons.
I hope anybody reading this recognizes how GREAT things are in this day and age. I am very UNCONCERNED about the way things are going. In fact, sometimes I wonder if Julius II THE REST OF THIS STATEMENT HAS BEEN REDACTED ACCORDING TO THE WILL OF THE EMPEROR.
Julius II has been acclaimed a very important title, one that no other Emperor ever has. He is not Julius II Magnus. He is Julius II Coniungor.
Julius the Uniter.
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And so ends the story of Novum Romanum Imperium! We'll have a State of the Empire tomorrow, along with some parting thoughts by yours truly.
Oh, and in case you're wondering what the deal is with all the bold print in the last few lines? You'll have to wait until the new AAR starts to find out! Again, we have to wait until the 2.2 patch is released, the converter can handle it, and we have to make sure that the game is still playable. I don't anticipate any of those being a problem. I do, however, want to finish Descent into Madness before I start up another AAR in any major way, so don't expect the new AAR right away. I might -- MIGHT -- write the prologue, which will cover the 13 years between EU3 and Vicky 2, but at the earliest, that'll be a week, maybe two.
