his true story begins even before once upon a time. It starts in 967 AD when Emperor Otto of Saxony, gave the "faithful Count Aleramo" feudal rights to the Monferrato, in Northwestern Italy. To clarify: Otto was the emperor of the Western Holy Roman Empire and a successor in the line that began in 800 with Charlemagne, the first emperor and acknowledged founder of the feudal system. A feud was made up of towns, cities and lands. The nearest modern equivalent of a feud is a franchise - except that a franchise is purchased, a feud, instead, was earned by merit or bravery in wars. A feudal lord had complete jurisdiction and control of the feud, which, however, he managed in the emperor’s name. The lord’s successors inherited the feud unless rebellion, war or other upheavals changed the political landscape. A feudal lord had ‘title’ to the land and would make the title his name. Hence the name bore evidence of the title (to the land) and, by inference, of his noble rank. Even current princes, dukes, marquises and counts bear the name of the land that was the original feud of their respective ancestors.
Monferrato is a region of hills, today mostly known for her superb wines. It encompasses the land between the Apennine in the South and the river Po to the North. To the East and West Monferrato ends at the end of the hills. It’s a land of quiet but matchless beauty - the landscape we imagined as children when building the setting of legends in the theater of our mind (click here for a larger map of Piedmont).
Even the name ‘Monferrato’ has its roots in a legend. Aleramo, on receiving the feud, rode his horse as fast as possible to encircle all the lands he had become master of. During the ride, his horse lost a shoe. With a makeshift operation, Aleramo used a brick (in the Monferrato dialect ‘mun’) to fix the shoe to the horse (in dialect ‘fre’’ refers to the shoeing of a horse). Hence ‘Munfre’ or ‘horse re-shoed using a brick’ and in Italian ‘Monferrato’.
Four generations later, Guglielmo the Elder (1188 AD) is the marquess of Monferrato and looks at expanding the scope of his dominion. Today we would call this a ‘diversification’. In medieval times diversification occurred via marriages and alliances. Guglielmo married Judith, aunt of German Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, the latter a towering figure in the history of Italy (in more modern and ominous times Hitler used ‘Barbarossa’ as a code name for the invasion of Russia).
Guglielmo the Elder had four sons. The 11th and the 12th centuries being the times of the Crusades, his sons took an interest in the Orient.
Two of them, Guglielmo Lungaspada (William Long Sword) and Corrado became, in time, kings of Jerusalem. But ‘uneasy lies the head that wears a crown’. Guglielmo Lungaspada was poisoned by his wife shortly after the coronation. Later, Corrado married his sister-in-law, Isabella of Anjou, heiress to the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Gossip at the time called this marriage ‘scandalous’ because both were already married to someone else and divorce was centuries away from becoming routine. Corrado too was assassinated shortly after becoming king.
The third brother, Boniface I became king of Thessaloniki (Macedonia) and was brutally murdered by the Bulgarians.
The fourth, Ranieri Aleramo, is of more interest to us. He married Mary, daughter of the Eastern Roman Emperor (Manuel Comnenus) at Constantinople, in 1220. From him we jump to the 14th century when the Aleramo branch of the family remains without male issues and the title of the Marquisat passes (due to the previously forged marriage connections) to Theodore I Paleologo. And so it came to pass that Theodore, son of the Roman Eastern Emperor of Constantinople became a Piedmontese carrying with him and transplanting into Piedmont a very greek name.
Two more centuries go by and we reach the 1530s. Alas, the lottery of destiny allows no-one the right of voluntary choosing.. The last Paleologo Marquess has a son and a daughter. The son, Boniface, dies at 20 falling from a horse. Margherita Paleologa is now the sole heiress, but the Salic law prevails - only male descendants can inherit the title.
And now, with the help of a ‘muse of fire that would ascend the highest heaven of invention’ let us move 150 miles to the East and South of Mantua, to the two neighboring little villages of Gonzaga and Moglia. Both were originally built on lands belonging to a Benedictine Abbey. The Benedictines had drained a marsh (‘Moglia’ derives from the Latin ‘mollia’ or marshy lands). Gonzaga was an older village. The Benedictines had called it with the name of a virtue, modesty. The original Latin was ‘verecundia’, which corrupted into the local ‘verecundiaca’. Then it lost the beginning ‘vere’ and the ‘g’s were smoother on the tongue than the ‘c’s, hence ‘Gonzaga’. (In the map only Gonzaga appears, Moglia is 3-4 miles to the East of Gonzaga).
Early in the 11th century a farming family from Modena, the Corradis, moved to Gonzaga. In time and possibly via services given to the Monastery they acquired more land. One hundred years later the Corradis left the country for Mantua and dropped the ‘Corradi’ name for the title of ‘Gonzaga’.
A minor digression to provide context. The feudal system was never stable. Towns and cities were hubs for trade, learning, technology and innovation. As such, city practices, institutions and laws were different. This, in turn and in time, caused the cities to become merchant republics or city-states, independent from the feudal lord or king in whose land they happened to be. Today a similar process occurs when a profitable subsidiary secedes or actually takes over the original corporation. Such was the origin of the free republics in Italy. Mantua was one of many city-states. But republics are never entirely public nor democracies entirely democratic. Power gradually accrued to a family, who, by hook or by crook, succeeded in defeating the competitors. After moving to Mantua the Gonzagas managed to defeat and annihilate the existing ruling family of the Bonacolsi in 1328. The Bonacolsi left one of the beautiful palaces in the beautiful Piazza Sordello in Mantua. As a rule they were plump, witness their names, Gambagrossa = big leg, Bardellone = big bag, Butirrone = big lump of butter, and others.
Back to the Gonzagas who gradually prospered. The Emperor Charles V, elevated them to the rank of Dukes in 1530. This was the peak for the Gonzaga family. There were Gonzaga cardinals, Gonzaga captains and Gonzaga generals. One Gonzaga even became a saint. It is through St. Louis Gonzaga that the name is familiar in the United States.
The arts flowered - artists and poets were attracted to Mantua via the sponsorhip of the Duchess Isabella, the primadonna of Italian Renaissance. Isabella loved arts (she sponsored Mantegna and Perugino), poetry, astrology, dwarfs and cats. She selected the best cats from various convents, had one cat shipped to her even from Damascus, Syria, and cried at length after her cat ‘Martin’ died.
Isabella had a son, Frederick II, who at the age of eight was married, in absence, to the slightly older Margherita Paleologa of Monferrato whom we met before. When Frederick II became of age he quickly forgot Margherita and (hoping for a more plentiful harvest), married Julie, a relative of Emperor Charles V. Soon afterwards, however, Boniface, the heir to the Marquisat of Monferrat, died as we have seen, falling from a horse. Frederick II now had a change of mind. He succeeded in having Pope Clement VII annul the marriage to Julie and married ‘again’ Margherita, thus acquiring the additional title of Marquess of Monferrat.
Frederick II now moved to Monferrat to arrange for the transition in government. In tune with the times, Frederick II proved a ruthless and cruel ruler. The inhabitants of Casale, the capital of Monferrat, had enjoyed remarkable freedom and extensive self-administration. Frederick canceled all rights, imposed heavy taxes, banned and killed the most prominent citizens after an unsuccessful rebellion and confiscated lands.
Frederick had brought with him a crew of Mantuans and it is at this time that the family name Moglia appears in Monferrat. But why, still today, are most of the Moglias in Piedmont and there is no ‘Moglia’ in Moglia or vicinity? The answer has to do with how the usage of names evolved. Until the Counter-reformation and the Council of Trent (1534-1550) there was no consistent biographical record keeping.
In small towns, everyone knew each other by his/her first name or by the first name followed by the patronymic. For example, Dante Alighieri, means Dante, son of Alighiero etc. In time and when the first name was no longer sufficient for identification, the patronymic became a proper last name. But even the patronymic was not enough. Much as today, with telephones, we need more area codes, so as population grew, our ancestors needed more name codes. Two other sources of last names were the profession and the place one came from (if he/she was an immigrant). Thus, the ancient notary who recorded the confiscated land assigned to ‘Moglia’ in Monferrat made it possible to identify the Moglias from that time onwards.
Ironically, the Monferrat proved for the Gonzagas more a curse than a blessing. One hundred years later, in a complex broil involving the succession to the Mantuan Dukedom, the most legitimate heir was tied to the court of France, via the marriage of a Monferrat princess. This was unacceptable to Spain and to the Emperor. They sent an army of Lutherans through the Alps to lay siege to Mantua. Mantua was sacked in 1630, with the attending, unfortunate but usual carnage and bloodshed. It was this army that brought to Italy the devastating plague of 1630, admirably described by Manzoni in his masterpiece "I Promessi Sposi" ("The Betrothed").
But ‘the end crowns all and that common arbitrator, Time, will one day end it’. The last Gonzaga Duke of Mantua was Ferdinand Carlo, who spent most of his time in Venice, chasing women and losing almost everything to card games. The Austrian Emperor, using his right as (still) supreme ruler of the Western Roman Empire, officially declared Ferdinand Carlo a ‘felon’, unfit to be the Duke of Mantua. Mantua then passed to direct Austrian rule (1708).
Earlier on the Gonzaga had lost Monferrat, which became part of Piedmont and of the Kingdom of Savoy.
To summarize: an enterprising soldier (Aleramo) becomes a feudal lord. One of his descendant marries into the family of the Roman Emperor of the Orient (Paleologo). When there are no male heirs to the Alerami, the Paleologos acquire title to the Marquisat. When in turn the Paleologos remain without male issue, the Gonzagas acquire the Monferrat. The Gonzagas bring to Monferrat their team of workers and/or managers. At least one of the team is originally from the town of Moglia - he takes up Moglia as his last name. Through politics and mismanagement, the Gonzagas lose Monferrat which is annexed to Piedmont and the crown of Savoy.
And so, like the witches in Macbeth we have looked into the seeds of time and saw which grain did grow and which did not and how the original Moglias became Piedmontese.
Jimmie Moglia
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