This news inflamed Sampiero with the greater wrath that it was likely to create the belief that she went there by his advice and so to injure his fellow exiles. He lamented his misfortune to Pier Giovanni da Calvese, who had been the companion of his journey into the East, and Calvese informed him that he had known the fact for some days, but had concealed it lest he should share the fate of Florio da Corte, whom Sampiero had killed.
Sampiero was so angry that he ran his companion through and left him dead on the spot. On arriving at Marseilles, he learned that the Queen had sent Antonio San Fiorenzo in chase of Vannina, and that she had been overtaken at Antibo and confined in the castle of Zaisi near Aix. Sampiero started at once for the castle with the intention of taking his wife under his own care, but the Count of Provence fearing that he would do her mischief left her to choose her own course. The magnanimous woman did not hesitate a moment to put herself entirely in the power of her husband.
He was mortally wounded by the suspicion of the Corsicans that her voyage to Genoa had been a treachery of his own, and he had no means of exculpating himself but by taking vengeance for the crime on the person of the offender. But he loved Vannina passionately and for some days patriotism and affection contended for the mastery in his bosom. But Vannina knew his perplexity, and came to his relief by imploring death at his hands. She gathered about her the servants of her household and her younger son Antonfrancesco (Alfonso was in the French court) and addressing her husband in passionate terms, she said: “kneel before me, and show to these persons that you still love me, that I am worthy of you. Call me donna, Madonna.” Sampiero comprehended her thought and fell at her feet covering her hands with tears and kisses. Then they entered into a private apartment, and what passed between them there is known only to God. The servants heard sighs, sobs, kisses; then a shriek followed by a deep silence. Sampiero mounted his horse and rode swiftly to Paris. By killing Vannina he satisfied the Corsicans of his fidelity, and more, that no affection could withhold him from punishing the guilty.
The hatred of Sampiero to the government of Genoa was doubled by the part it had played in this tragedy of his domestic life. He obtained the permission of the French Queen to undertake the war of Corsica, and formed friendship among the Genoese exiles who shared his views, “especially,” says Osino, “with a Gerolamo Fieschi and Cornelio Fregoso. The latter used every argument and artifice to entice Cosimo to favour the enterprise and even attempt it in his own name and interest.” Cosimo temporized; and Sampiero, little accustomed to count up obstacles or enemies, passed into Corsica with only two ships and a few companions. One asked him:—“In case your ships should be lost, in what could you trust for safety?” Sampiero replied: “I trust only to my sword.”
He seized the castle of Istria, routed the Genoese at Corte, and Terra del Commune, opened its gates to his little band. It would be long to recount all the battles which he fought against trained troops, always winning victories. The battles of Vescovado and Pietra di Caccia kindled a general revolution in the island. In the last, the Genoese killed were more than three hundred, and they lost many more as prisoners. Among the latter Sampiero found a Giovanni Battista Fieschi (of the Savignone branch) and, instead of treating him as a conquered enemy, entertained him with friendly courtesy in memory of kindness done him by the Fieschi in France. In fact the Fieschi had never refused him any favour; and when he sent Leonardo da Corte and Anton Padovano da Brando to Paris, in quest of aid, Scipione Fieschi had induced the Queen to give twelve thousand crowns and some troops.
The Fieschi favoured Sampiero because they believed trouble abroad would render revolution easier at home. The energy and valour of this warrior would have given the Republic infinite trouble, if treachery had not interrupted the progress of his brilliant vengeance. Though the forces of the senate in Corsica were large and had been reënforced by German and Spanish infantry, they seemed powerless before the revolution. Two causes rendered them impotent; the desperate ardour of the islanders goaded to madness by the agents of the Bank of St. George, and the absence of the popular element in the Genoese administration. A people unaccustomed to arms, removed from all share in the government, and jealously watched by a dominant oligarchy, is not apt to rush enthusiastically upon death in defence of the power of a few patricians. Finding the war going constantly against them, the senators resolved to send into Corsica Stefano Doria, Lord of Dolceaqua, and they expected him to sink the rebellion in a deluge of fire. He was indeed a man of extraordinary military talents, and his ferocity was still greater. Charles V. prized his soldierly qualities, and Phillip II. created him colonel and knight of St. James of Campostella. Emanuele Filiberto, also, of whom he was a feudatory, covered him with honours, made him councillor and captain-general, and entrusted him with the defence of Nice against the Turks. He acquired distinction in the battles of Ceresole and Cuneo, and this induced the Republic to select him for the Corsican war.
He accepted the appointment with great confidence, and swore to exterminate the whole Corsican people. He said:—“when the Athenians captured the city of Melas, after a siege of seven months, they butchered all the inhabitants over fourteen years of age and repopulated the island. The Corsicans merit a like punishment, and we should imitate the example. Such vigour prepared the Athenians for the conquest of the Pelopenesus, Greece, Africa, Sicily and Italy; and only by exterminating their enemies did they acquire glory for their arms. I know it will be said that such severity violates the rights of peoples and the laws of humanity; but why listen to such follies? I only ask that they shall be made to fear us, and, in comparison with the applause of Genoa, I despise the judgment of posterity to which the simple appeal.”
On these principles, Doria burned and devastated half the island, but he did not conquer Sampiero. The conspirator in brief pauses of the battle, assembled the people in Bozio and laid the foundations of a Republic in the fashion of that of Sambucuccio di Alando. Doria was recalled; Vivaldi and Defornari who followed him accomplished nothing of moment.
The senate, despairing of victory in war, resorted to plots against the life of Sampiero. He was riding one day with his son Alfonso towards the castle of Rocca, when Raffaele Giustiniani, assailed him with a band of horsemen. Among the assailants, were some Corsicans who had deserted Sampiero, particularly Ercole da Istria and three brothers Ornano. They attacked him in a disadvantageous position in the valley of Cavro; but Sampiero told his son to save himself by flight and plunged into the thick of his enemies. He prostrated Gian Antonio Ornano with the fire of his arquebus, and was grappling with his enemies when he was killed by a musket ball in the shoulder. It was believed that Vittolo, his esquire, corrupted by the Genoese general, fired the fatal shot. His death did not dishearten the Corsicans; they fought two years longer under Alfonso, then only seventeen years of age. But finally both parties grew tired of the war and terms of accommodation were settled. The exiles now lost all hope of recovering their country.
Though the Fieschi and their partisans were dead and Count Scipione disinherited, it is not probable that Andrea Doria forgot that Pier Luca Fieschi had advised Gianluigi to form an alliance with France; but perhaps others anticipated him in that part of his vengeance. We have seen that Paul III., having given his niece in marriage to Ferrero, invested him with the Marquisate of Masserano which belonged to Fieschi. The latter, indignant at this robbery, ceased to pay the annual tribute to the Pope for Crevacuore. Paul, for this, and, says the papal brief, “Also for falsifying money in his unlawful mints and other crimes,” condemned him, deprived him of his feud and gave it also to Ferrero. But neither the sentence, papal briefs or excommunications sufficed to expel Pier Luca from his castle, which he afterwards sold to the Duke of Savoy, (1548.) The duke took an oath that neither he nor his descendants would cede the whole or any part of the county of Fieschi to Ferrero or any person of his race. Gregory XIII. absolved him from this oath, and in spite of Pier Luca the feud reverted to Basso Ferrero and Clement XVII. erected it into a principate.