Original subtitles

A palatial ruin in Philadelphia

built from the riches of an industrial golden age.

All the wealth in the world

couldn't protect him from losing many of the people he loved.

In France,

a remote outpost that threatened the lives of millions.

This is designed to be the hinge on which the fate of Europe turns.

An opulent retreat in Italy

transformed to suppress a revolution.

Men persecuted for their beliefs were rounded up and locked away.

When they resisted, they were crushed with violence.

And in Poland, a power-hungry dictator caught in a twisted romance

at a fairy tale stronghold.

At first, the relationship was shrouded in secrecy,

but he was clearly happy with the bargain being struck.

In southeast Pennsylvania stands the relic of an era

when the titans of industry ruled America.

In the countryside just outside Philadelphia,

you see this grand neoclassical building

with tall columns and two enormous wings.

It feels like you could be standing in a grand European palace.

But this is in the USA,

and we're pretty famous for not having a monarchy.

We dealt with that in the 1700s,

but if a royal didn't live here, who did?

The man behind this ostentatious residence

was the very epitome of the American dream.

This was once the home of one of the wealthiest Americans of his day,

a man whose life was blessed with riches.

He was also a man driven by a burning desire to leave a lasting legacy.

It is truly one of the greatest collections of art

ever assembled in one location in, probably, global history.

But all the money in the world

could not save this family from tragedy.

That tragedy would involve one of the greatest disasters in history,

the Titanic.

I first found this place when I was 11 years old,

and it just all struck me.

I'd never seen anything like it before.

In 2023,

Edward Thome headed up the group that purchased this property

with the seemingly impossible task of restoring it to its former glory.

We are now solely responsible for this building and its well-being.

So, there's a great sense of responsibility that comes with that as well.

It was so reminiscent of the palaces of Europe,

such as Versailles or Buckingham Palace.

It's not something that you're used to seeing

in the United States of America.

The origins of this lavish residence began in a period of great prosperity

known as the Gilded Age.

In the late 19th century, early 20th century,

the American economy was just in overdrive.

A few individuals made a fortune from the booming industries

such as steel, railways, and shipping.

People like John D Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie,

these were men who'd started out from very humble backgrounds, even poor,

and became these titans of industry.

Philadelphia native, Peter Widener, was one of those men.

He was born in 1834, the son of a German immigrant bricklayer,

and began his career as a butcher.

In the early days of the Civil War,

he won a contract to supply mutton to the Union troops

within a ten-mile radius of Philadelphia,

and with that mutton contract, he earned $50,000

which is about $850,000 in today's money.

He invested that windfall in up-and-coming industries.

He was involved in US Steel,

Standard Oil,

American Tobacco.

Peter also invested heavily in the American public transit system

and amassed a fortune in the region of $35 million.

Yet, from early on, his personal life was marked by tragedy.

He lost the eldest of his three children, Harry, to typhoid fever

at the age of 15.

The final blow was his wife passing in 1896

due to an unexpected heart attack,

and at that point, his two sons, George and Joseph,

were living out on their own and building their own houses.

Widener's grief would drive the creation of his most important investment.

He said to George and Joseph,

"I don't want to live alone for the rest of my life.

"If I build a house large enough

"that we can all coexist in, will you move in with me?"

And of course, they said yes.

Peter's new family home took two years to build

and cost around $300 million in today's money.

By December 1899,

Lynnewood Hall was complete.

It was a big media event.

Widener invited movers and shakers from across society.

The press showed up and everyone gushed over the fabulous luxury

and appointments of this remarkable home.

If you picture Downton Abbey transported to Philadelphia,

then you get a pretty good idea of how the household was run.

It was truly a charmed life.

They had a French chef, of course, an English butler

and European maids.

It was one of the largest homes in the country and remains so today.

There were 44 in-house staff

and there was about 160 on the estate as total.

All the family portraits hung in here, of Peter and his two sons.

This leads right into the dining room,

which is where the family would spend a lot of time every evening.

They would sit around a giant table here in the middle with, you know,

Peter and George and Joseph

and their wives and all the children.

Yet, Lynnewood Hall was always intended

to be much more than just a family home.

Widener had a particular affinity for European Old Master paintings,

and he spared no expense

in acquiring some of the most celebrated works of his time.

So, Lynnewood has five galleries,

and a lot of different aspects of this house

were designed to accommodate specific works of art.

This entire wall was covered with

Romney, Hoppner, Gainsborough, Reynolds.

We had two El Greco's here on either side of this door.

We had the largest private collection of Rembrandts

anywhere in the world at the time outside of Buckingham Palace.

But Peter Widener wasn't just motivated by personal pleasure.

You know, you have to remember he came from nothing.

He was completely self-made. He was very proud of that

and he had a great appreciation for this art collection

and wanted to share it with everyone.

And they opened up Lynnewood Hall

as a, kind of, museum to the public for months every year

for the grand price of five cents.

His son, Joseph, later said,

"Art belongs to those who appreciate it.

"Others merely own it."

Yet, heartbreak continued to follow his every achievement.

Peter Widener had been part of the creation of the very thing

that would bring grief to his family once again.

In the early 1900s,

he purchased a stake in the International Mercantile Marine Company.

Peter's son, George, was also a shareholder

and he,

his wife, Eleanor,

and their 27-old-son, Harry,

arranged passage on the maiden voyage

of the company's newest cruise ship.

This kind of travel was a huge part of the lives

of America's economic elite during this period.

That was supposed to be the most elegant way to cross the Atlantic.

Eleanor, George and Harry were already in Europe

attending to business matters.

This journey would bring them back to America.

At 6.30 pm on April 10th, 1912,

they set sail aboard the RMS Titanic.

Little did they know, not all of them would make it home.

On the 14th of April, five days into the voyage,

the Widener family sat down for what would be

their last meal together.

One of the things that's interesting to me is

many people are aware that there was a lavish dinner party on Titanic.

What's not known is the fact that the Wideners were the ones

who threw that dinner party as a retirement present

for Captain Edward J Smith.

It's said that the tables were set with fresh flowers,

bone china and sterling silver

as the meal was served.

After the dinner,

I believe Eleanor retired to her room with her lady's maid

and the gentleman, of course,

went to the smoking room for cigars and brandies and such.

At 11.40 pm,

disaster struck.

Of course, everyone knows the story

of the Titanic hitting the fateful iceberg

and the roughly two-hour period when the ship was sinking

and people came to the realisation

that there were nowhere near enough lifeboats

for even half of the passengers on the boat.

Panic set in and the vessel's officers

enforced a strict women-and-young-children-only rule

in the limited number of lifeboats,

leaving the adult men to fend for themselves.

The Widener family had the experience that many families had

of separating right there at the rail.

It was a heartbreaking scene.

George, you know, pulled his wife aside

and he took off a gold and emerald ring and gave it to her

and he said, you know, "Don't forget about me,

"but I want you to do everything that we talked about doing."

Eleanor and her lady's maid survived.

George and his 27-year-old son, Harry,

unfortunately, all perished in the sinking.

Eleanor and her maid made it home on April 19th.

There, they found Peter

distraught with the news of the deaths of his son and grandson.

Peter Widener was never the same again.

Overcome with grief, his health suffered dramatically.

We've been told that Peter would come out to this balcony

and stare at the driveway, which is to our left,

just hoping one day that a car would show up

with both George and Harry in it.

Only three years after the disaster,

Widener died at Lynnewood Hall.

He was 80 years old.

The incident had such an impact on him

that his doctor even said that he died of a broken heart.

After Peter's death,

the property passed to his last remaining son, Joseph.

Lynnewood Hall remained in his hands until he died in 1943.

After Joseph's death, neither his children nor his extended family

wished to take on the vast responsibility

of taking care of the property.

The Widener's fabulous art collection

was donated to the National Gallery.

Those grand rooms must have seemed very empty

when all those paintings were gone.

Today, Edward Thome and his colleagues

at the Lynnewood Hall Preservation Foundation,

are working hard to keep Peter Widener's story alive

and to realise his dream of making his home accessible to all.

When you have a building of this significance,

not just in its design but its history,

it is so important to share it with the community, moving forward.

The goal is to, again, open it to the public

as a cultural centre, art museum and a recreational venue.

In northern France

is an ominous collection of buildings

intended to decide the fate of Europe.

It almost feels like an entire town is laid out next to the railway,

but there are no houses or shops to speak of.

So, what is this place?

This construction is low. It's close to the ground.

Whoever built these buildings

did not want them to be seen.

The style of architecture tells us

that this was not created for the sake of pleasure or comfort.

When the world was plunged into the chaos of conflict,

these structures were designed to oversee the glorious victory

of a cruel regime.

The blood of hundreds, if not thousands

of slave labourers

is cast in this concrete.

We can smell the evil

of Nazi construction.

Hitler had so much hubris that he believed that from here,

he would witness the downfall of Britain.

Yet, in the dying days of the war,

the men stationed here received chilling new instructions.

An order comes off the teleprinter

that could result in the deaths of thousands.

Didier Lede was one of the first to explore these bunkers

when the shroud of secrecy was finally lifted.

But this was a treasure with a menacing origin.

These structures date to a time in World War II

when Allied forces were being crushed by the Nazi war machine.

By 1940, Germany had blitzed its way

through Poland, Belgium and into France.

Hitler wanted to stay close to his troops on the front line

to give orders.

This site was supposed to be the platform by which Hitler

would oversee Operation Sea Lion,

the conquest of Britain.

It's got to be a hop, skip and a jump

away from where the Nazis are going to fight the British

in England.

It's got to be in France.

In 1942, they set about constructing the largest Third Reich headquarters

ever built during the war.

Even the name of the complex catered to Hitler's vainglorious ego.

In homage to himself,

he called his new base of operations

Wolfsschlucht Zwei,

aka Wolf's Lair II.

Hitler attached considerable myth to his persona.

One of those ideas was that he was a wolf,

a wolf like the beasts, um, who inhabited German mythology.

From the beginning,

its construction was stained in innocent blood.

By early 1944, Hitler's command centre,

designed to orchestrate the destruction of Britain

was complete.

Up to 3,000 men were based here,

although the Fuhrer himself had still never visited.

But its role in Germany's war effort soon had to change.

On the 6th of June,

the largest amphibious invasion force ever assembled

stormed the beaches of Normandy,

just four hours away from this site.

Hitler's troops were caught completely off guard.

The belief was that the allies

didn't have the potential or the power to stage an invasion.

So, when the Allies land on D-Day,

Hitler is in bed...

..and nobody wants to be the one who wakes up the Fuhrer.

By the time Hitler's senior officers actually do get him awake,

the commanders find that Hitler doesn't know

which way to send reinforcements.

After the Allied invasion began,

it took Hitler 11 days to decide to go from Germany

to Wolf's Lair II in France

for the very first time.

And that means that a bunker system that was built

to prepare for the invasion of Britain

needs to become a complex

capable of commanding multiple army groups

to defend Nazi-held France.

Just as they were debating, the air raid warning sounded.

Allied bombers were in the air

and the whole party scrambled into the shelters

deep in the hillsides where the meeting continued.

At this point, Hitler demanded the V-1 rocket,

a terror weapon built to pound London into submission,

be used against the invading forces.

He seemed to believe

that this would act as some sort of Sword of Damocles,

um, striking down the enemy.

The artillery general advised it was far too risky

to send the V-1 to the front lines.

These things were entirely unpredictable

and he worried that they would kill their own men

if they fired them anywhere close to the invasion forces.

The supposedly great Fuhrer

was visibly shaken by the general's reaction,

and dismissed their recommendation to retreat from Normandy and regroup.

After only 12 hours at Wolf's Lair II,

he makes a feeble excuse to leave

while his generals return to the front lines

to try and hold back the Allied invasion.

And Hitler appears not to be a man of great physical courage.

Hitler's response is,

"I am in such danger here in France. I am going to get back to Germany.

"I'm going to command from someplace where I can feel safe."

Once back in Germany,

Hitler never again stepped foot inside Wolf's Lair II.

On the 25th of August 1944,

the Free French Allied Forces entered Paris and declared it liberated.

The next day, from the safety of his Berlin bunker,

Hitler would send an alarming message to this base's communications room

calling for the bombardment of the French capital.

Hitler gives a scorched earth order

to destroy the entire city.

The order was received by General Hans Speidel,

who just months earlier had been part of the failed plot

to assassinate Hitler and take control of the armed forces.

The residents of Paris were completely unaware

how close they came to total annihilation.

As the Allies advanced through France,

the Germans fled Wolf's Lair II.

After their eventual surrender,

the US Army occupied this complex until 1946.

It then served as a NATO base and school for French special forces

until it was abandoned in 1993.

After NATO left, the site became overgrown

and many of the stories of its history became forgotten.

Since then, a local association has worked to maintain these buildings,

and plans are underway to convert it into a museum site.

On the small Italian island of Procida, off the coast of Naples,

is an ominous structure that harboured aristocrats and villains.

At the island's highest point,

your eye is immediately drawn to this building

that's commanding and daunting in equal measure.

As you approach along the driveway,

you are met by these two large, wooden doors.

But were they meant to keep people out or in?

Beyond the gates is a large open courtyard lined with stoneworks.

It's a demonstration of lavish opulence.

When you step inside, the mood drastically changes.

You've got piles of shoes, rows of rusting beds,

baskets of thread all over the place.

Maybe it was a factory of some sort,

but honestly, it's just creepy.

Exploring deeper into the building's underbelly,

you can see a place that is even more unsettling.

That's when you see bars on the windows,

and there's the real giveaway.

Nobody came here by choice.

What began as the stronghold of a really powerful dynasty,

slowly emerged into something much more sinister.

In 2017, Luigi Primario got the chance to find out

when he became a city councillor

tasked with the regeneration of this foreboding site.

What he discovered was a tale of intrigue and oppression

that echoed the very history of Italy itself.

The oldest part of this palatial ruin dates back to the 16th century,

when Italy wasn't the unified country we know and recognise today.

The region was under control of the Spanish Aragonese dynasty,

who ruled over the Kingdom of Naples.

Procida was entrusted to the d'Avalos family,

who were an influential clan of Spanish dukes

who controlled a powerful mercenary army.

In 1563, a prominent member of the family,

Cardinal Innico d'Avalos d'Aragona,

decided to make Procida his home.

He called his new island fortress

the Palazzo d'Avalos.

For the next century, the d'Avalos family ruled over Procida,

but their reign was dramatically cut short in the 1700s.

Following the death of childless Spanish monarch, Charles II,

this region was caught up in a European conflict of succession.

The Spanish House of Bourbon emerged victorious.

By 1736, the future Bourbon king, Charles III,

had conquered Naples and Sicily.

He kicked out the d'Avalos family

and took the palazzo over for himself

to have a grand hunting lodge.

For the people living under Bourbon rule,

life couldn't have been more different.

These people were often under the oppressive thumb

of their feudal lords.

Discontent ran deep and it was only a matter of time

before that exploded into violence.

In the wake of the French Revolution,

rebellions swept through Europe

and the ruling Bourbons faced a series of uprisings.

In order to maintain rule,

the Palazzo d'Avalos entered a dark, new era.

By 1831, this once-regal residence had been converted to a prison

to house political enemies of the State.

The conditions inside were horrific

and the prisoners often faced beatings, starvation and torture.

For many, it seemed their only option for survival was to escape.

But they were wrong.

In 1848, around 140 prisoners arrived on Procida from Sicily.

Reports suggest that they tried to break out,

but they were trapped by the guards

and then ruthlessly massacred.

The event sent shock waves through Europe.

It's actually said to be one of the reasons that Gladstone,

who was the British Prime Minister at the time,

broke off diplomatic relations with the Bourbon monarchy.

Instead, he chose to back the Italian rabble-rouser,

Giuseppe Garibaldi,

the heroic revolutionary that overthrew the Bourbons in the 1860s

and was finally able to unify the country.

While the birth of modern Italy had arrived,

the Palazzo d'Avalos remained a place of incarceration

for the next century...

..and soon, the prison needed to expand

to meet the growing demand of a different breed of criminal.

In the 1970s, the prison started to be overrun with Italian mafioso.

We're talking mob bosses, hitmen, henchmen, the whole range.

Giacomo Retaggio started working here in 1963 as the prison's only doctor.

From the very start, his tenure was marred by violence.

Over the next 25 years,

Giacomo got to know some of the prison's most dangerous convicts.

In 1982, this included Naples' public enemy number one,

Camorra mafia boss, Luigi "The King" Giuliano.

Luigi headed up the powerful Giuliano clan,

which had a reputation for being

one of Naples' most bloodthirsty criminal families.

At the time of his arrest,

Giuliano was in the midst of a brutal war with a rival Camorra clan

led by Raffaele "The Professor" Cutolo.

Cutolo himself was already behind bars,

running his empire entirely from the notorious Poggioreale prison in Naples.

Luigi begged to be sent to Procida prison.

He knew that if he was sent to Poggioreale prison,

where Cutolo's men were locked up,

he would face death.

But Giuliano was wrong to think he'd be safe at Procida.

Among the prisoners was one of Cutolo's former henchmen

and he had it in for Giuliano.

In November, he was stabbed by another inmate and left for dead.

Luckily for him, he survived.

Not so lucky for Naples.

After he was acquitted of all charges,

he continued his reign of terror for the next 20 years.

Giuliano was eventually arrested in 2000

and turned into a government witness to avoid jail time.

But during that period, the ageing prison here

had already been forced to shut its doors for good.

For 30 years, Palazzo d'Avalos sat completely abandoned

until the government took it over

and made it a place that tourists could visit.

In the northern Polish town of Kamieniec

is the ruin of a site where romance and patriotism

painfully collided.

There's little houses and shops and a church.

It seems like a place where things move slowly.

But at one end of town is something quite unexpected.

Set back from the street is a towering stone structure

ravaged by the passage of time.

It's got this big facade, two wings spreading out on either side.

It seems like somewhere really important.

Central Europe is dotted with palaces such as this,

but this one is remarkable because of who ended up here

and with whom.

One of the world's greatest generals was caught in a love affair.

For him, it was passion.

For her, it was duty to her country.

She carried the very existence of Poland on her shoulders.

But the question was, would it pay off?

I first came here maybe 20 years ago.

There's something magical about this ruin.

This was called Versaille of the North.

Tomasz Dabrowski is part of a group

dedicated to honouring the role this building played

in his nation's struggle for independence.

When I thought about history of this place,

I realised that the history is so strictly connected

with history of Poland.

Its epic story began in the early 18th century,

when this region was a battlefield

fought over by neighbouring states.

We're in what one historian famously called "God's playground," Poland,

which was at the intersection

of all the great powers of Europe.

This land was under the control of Prussia,

a kingdom comprised of northern Germany

and much of modern-day Poland.

Its king, Friedrich Wilhelm I,

bestowed palaces and estates upon the noble families.

This one was called Finckenstein Palace

and it was named after the ruling family that constructed it in 1716.

It would be the von Finckensteins' home,

but also a place for the king to stay when he travelled from Berlin.

At the turn of the century, though,

it would host a very different set of guests.

In the late 1700s,

50 years after Finckenstein Palace was built,

Poland was plunged into chaos.

European borders were rapidly shifting

and this region was caught in the crossfire.

The great powers of Prussia, Russia and the Habsburg Empire

set about on a devastating series of partitions

that really completely reduces the Polish state to nothing.

The result of this was that Poland was all but wiped off the map,

and if they had any chance of restoring their statehood,

they'd need help from abroad.

The Polish prince, Jozef Poniatowski,

in cahoots with his noblemen,

devised a strategy to save the nation from obscurity.

The plan they came up with?

Well, it's been used over and over again throughout history,

a honey trap.

The prince and his officials identify the perfect person

and she's a countess named Marie Walewska.

Even though she was already married and had a child,

she was known throughout Poland for her great beauty.

The scheming nobles then set their sights on an ambitious neighbouring ruler

who could champion their cause for independence.

And at that time, there was only one real candidate,

Napoleon Bonaparte.

They realised that Napoleon has a natural interest in fostering Polish nationalism

as a way of weakening, you know, Russia, Austria and Prussia.

Napoleon met Marie Walewska first time

in the Royal Palace in Warsaw in January, 1807.

This meeting was not coincidental, of course,

because Marie Walewska impressed Napoleon so much

that he wanted to know her better.

The Polish plan appeared to be working.

When Napoleon returned to his European campaigns,

he didn't forget his newfound mistress.

In 1807, Napoleon invites Marie Walewska to the countryside,

where he is resting after another important battle.

As she arrived, she was greeted by the magnificent facade

of Finckenstein Palace.

Marie understood the role she had been chosen to play,

but she was also conflicted.

She would have to choose between her family and her country.

She's very concerned about her reputation because she's married,

she has a child, she's of noble birth.

Napoleon was all too aware of Marie's personal situation

and continued the affair regardless.

So, they end up holing up in a bedroom

of the north wing of the palace.

Here, there were the room occupied by Marie Walewska.

So, there was the bed.

Spent time, but mostly it was closed

because she was supposed only to meet with emperor.

Marie told one friend

that she really felt like she was married to Napoleon at the time,

but, of course, she knew she was actually

in service of a much greater cause.

That cause received a boost in April, 1807,

when Napoleon made a deal with the Shah of Persia

at Finckenstein Palace.

Napoleon's plan is to, basically, create this continental system

to close off all of Europe,

including the Russian Empire, to British trade.

Special envoy came here the 26th April of 1807.

It was the most important political event here

because treaty between France and Persia

was really important for Napoleon.

After the treaty had been signed,

Napoleon continued his war with Russia.

At the Battle of Friedland in June, his army emerged victorious,

forcing the Russians to make a settlement.

This was the moment that Marie was waiting for.

The French are negotiating with the Russians

and the fate of Poland is on the table.

Marie had left behind her husband and child to spend two months with Napoleon,

in the hope his favour would sway his decisions,

but, in the end,

it would all be for nothing.

Under the terms of the deal,

Russia kept most of the Polish territory they previously held,

Napoleon merely electing to form a small Polish state

called the Grand Duchy of Warsaw.

Poland's dream of true independence

was over.

Marie's mission had failed and it was absolutely clear

that Napoleon would always put his beloved France first

over any romantic involvement.

Napoleon made sure Marie was taken care of for the rest of her life,

but the affair was all but over

and the hopes of the Polish people

died with it.

As the years passed,

Finckenstein Palace continued to be a home for wealthy nobility,

but during World War II, it was looted by the Soviet Red Army

as they advanced through Poland,

and in 1945,

it was completely destroyed by a fire.

Today, the site is privately owned

by a member of the Polish Napoleon Foundation,

and it became a shrine to a pivotal moment in Polish history

that unfolded within the walls of this great palace.

The romance was even immortalised in a film

starring Charles Boyer and Greta Garbo

and the film was called The Conquest.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media