SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 1282.
Stung almost to madness by the celebrated Sicilian Vespers, Charles of Anjou collected all the troops in his power, set forward on his march, accompanied by an apostolic legate, and invested Messina, which he pressed closely. The unfortunate inhabitants, upon the point of having their city carried by assault, offered to capitulate. They promised to return to their duty, if the monarch would forget the past, and engage not to give to the French either places or magistracy in their city. Charles replied, that he intended to govern as to him should seem best; and that, if they did not promptly submit, they might prepare to be treated in the same manner as they had treated the French. The Messinese, irritated by this disheartening reply, swore that they would rather devour their own children than become slaves for ever. It was in vain that endeavours were made to bring them back to a more prudent line of conduct; the most terrible menaces were equally vain: they would listen to nothing: they declared that it would be better to die like brave men, than to be given up to the executioner like base malefactors. Old men, women, and children, all took up arms in the common cause. The king continued to press the siege very warmly; but the Messinese, animated by a generous despair, defended themselves with such heroic valour, that they gave Don Pedro of Arragon time to come to their succour. This prince, at the head of a fleet of fifty galleys, which had for admiral Roger Doria, the greatest seaman of his age, advanced into the strait of Messina, for the purpose of carrying off the French fleet, which lay there without defence. Charles, being informed of this project, thought it evident he should be ruined if he continued the siege; so he retreated without obtaining his revenge; but he could not save his vessels, of which the enemy took twenty-nine, and burnt thirty.
This war lasted many years, and was almost always unfortunate for the house of Anjou, which was at length obliged to share Sicily with that of Arragon, and to content itself with Calabria, Apulia, the Terra di Lavoro, and the Abruzzi, under the title of the kingdom of Naples.
We cannot leave the beautiful island of Sicily, where such interesting sieges have detained us so long, without offering our young readers a reflection upon the fate of that earthly paradise. From the shores of the Mediterranean to the summit of Etna, Sicily may be said to produce all that is desirable in most of the climates of the earth, and that almost spontaneously. But it is this spontaneity that we think creates its misfortune: Providence neither favours countries, nor limits its blessings to them, without countervailing checks or advantages. Sicily, from the time of the tyrants of Syracuse, under whom it was at least reckoned for something in the world, has always been under the subjugation of foreigners: successively enslaved by the Romans, the Vandals, the Arabs, the Normans; under the vassalage of the popes, the French, the Germans, and the Spaniards; always hating its masters; revolting against them, without making any efforts worthy of liberty; and continually exciting seditions, only to change its chains;—such is the history of Sicily; and only because it is one of the richest spots in the world—is the granary of the country that owns it—and produces this best of all wealth, as we have said, almost spontaneously. Where man is not constrained to gain his bread by the sweat of his brow, he degenerates; the worst of passions are engendered by idleness; and from the indulgence of them follows that loss of self-respect which makes him indifferent to liberty, careless of his rights, and the willing victim of the highest bidder to his vices. It is a curious fact, but no less a fact, that the most productive countries in the world are seldom ruled over by the inhabitants indigenous to them.