‘All the nations that have ever lived have left their footsteps in the sand,” writes Norman Davies. “The traces fade with every tide, the echoes grow faint, the images are fractured, the human material is atomised and recycled. But if we know where to look, there is always a remnant, a remainder, an irreducible residue.” In this brilliant, beautifully written book, Davies recovers those scattered vestiges of dead kingdoms, tracing the skeins that link modern political realities with ancient history. Vanished Kingdoms is a book about memory and loss, a journey down some of the least fashionable byways of European history.
The process of recovery involves actual journeys as well. At the beginning of each case study, Davies describes briefly, but with the keen eye of a travel writer, a physical location, a memory site of one of his vanished realms. At the end of the historical narrative, he returns to the present – not to the same place but to somewhere that preserves the spirit of the shadowy past.
In the chapter on Alt Clud (Strathclyde), Davies takes us to Dumbarton Rock, a volcanic plug that guards the approach to Glasgow from the Firth of Clyde. For centuries, it was the capital of the “Kingdom of the Rock”, a stronghold of the Welsh Britons. Over time, the culture of the Britons was shaped by external forces, from the Romans, Picts, Norse, Normans and Gaelic Scots. Invasions and population movement submerged the Britons, until the kingdom of Strathclyde became part of Scotland. The chapter ends in modern Glasgow, which has retained its distinctiveness, not least because of newcomers who have assimilated but also contributed things of their own. The history of the half-forgotten kingdom of Strathclyde is a micro-history of the British Isles. “One has to put aside the notion,” argues Davies, “that language and culture are endlessly passed on from generation to generation… The capacity of human societies both to absorb and discard cultures is much underestimated.”
The section on Burgundy begins in the Danish island of Bornholm, known to Alfred the Great as Burgenda Land. It is possible that a tribe of mobile warriors settled long enough to give their name to the lost kingdom of Burgundy.
Ending in cyberspace, the chapter also looks at the ways in which online encyclopedias have attempted to locate Burgundy in a geographical area. As Davies shows, a concise description of this vanished kingdom is doomed to failure. He identifies 15 incarnations of Burgundy, from the kingdom of Gundahar in 410 to the establishment of the contemporary region of Bourgogne in 1982. Burgundy was, he argues, “a movable feast”. It is a reminder that states are not static. This is one of the insights that is at the heart of Vanished Kingdoms. Davies wants us to be sensitive to the “pitiless passage of time”. By taking a new approach to writing European history, he teases out the “historical nuances” in the development of nations.
This comes across most clearly in the chapter on Borussia. The jumping off point for this chapter is the unlovely city of Kaliningrad, situated in the stranded westerly enclave of the Russian Federation. The kingdom of Borussia was settled by the Baltic tribe called the Prusai. Thanks to maritime lagoons, they were isolated from their neighbours until the 13th century. The Prusai raided their German neighbours, retreating to the protection of the wilds. But they were driven out by the Teutonic Knights. The language of the Prusai, “Old Prussian”, remained for a while, used by the dwellers of the impregnable lagoons.
Under the Teutonic Order, Borussia became Preussen, a well-organised, prosperous Christian state. In the 16th century, the influence of the Teutonic Order declined and Prussia fell under the sway of Poland. Defeated and rooted out though they were, the myth of the Prusai lived on. They were celebrated as liberty-loving people, who bequeathed to Prussians their suspicion of authority.
For Davies, the image of Prussia which has meaning in the modern world is the “Iron Kingdom” the Hohenzollerns of Brandenburg built from the 17th century. That Prussia is a vanished kingdom, and one of many Prussias in history.
We should care about these vanished kingdoms because, as Davies writes, the echoes of the past break out in strange ways. They also remind us that what we believe to be permanent is in constant flux.
This study is a challenging perspective on Europe’s past, but also an original way of writing history. In his chapter on Eire, Davies reminds us that the disintegration of the United Kingdom began in the last century. “That the United Kingdom will collapse is a foregone conclusion. Sooner or later, all states do collapse… Only the ‘how’ and the ‘when’ are mysteries for the future.”
Ben Wilson is writing a history of the Royal Navy
by Norman Davies
848pp, Allen Lane Buy now for t £26 (PLUS £1.25 p&p) from Telegraph Books
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