Italian Yesterdays, vol. 2

by Mrs. Hugh Fraser

What passed between them no man may say with any certainty; all that is absolutely sure is that, when a few minutes had gone by, the scream of a man in intolerable agony of soul rang out through the stone corridor; and the Duchess’ servants, rushing to her room, found her lying dead in the arms of her stricken son, who himself was entreating her frantically to come back to him, sobbing as though his heart would break, and imploring the mercy of Heaven for his misjudgment of her.

From that hour there was something very dreadful in the look of the Duke of Durazzo, as though he were afraid of his own thoughts and were for ever struggling to free himself from their compulsion. The only person who understood a little of what was in his mind was, doubtless, the Empress of Constantinople, and, when she saw that the man was for the first time in all his life the prey of a hideous remorse, she became gradually afraid for herself and for her first-born, Robert of Taranto, for whom she was plotting to secure the hand of the Queen.

Towards the end of the time agreed upon between Joan and the Empress, for the former to make public her betrothal to Robert, who was still living in the Castel Nuovo, and while the whole town was lamenting the mysterious death of the beloved Duchess Agnes of Durazzo, there came to pass a thing which utterly set at naught all the calculations of the Empress and of her eldest son.

It so happened that one day Robert of Taranto had gone out riding with Charles of Durazzo, whom the astute mother of Robert had, since the demise of Duchess Agnes, persuaded her son to conciliate by every possible means in his power. Now both Robert and his mother had overlooked, or were in ignorance of, the surpassing love that Louis of Taranto, the youngest of Robert’s two brothers, had for some years borne to Joan; which love Louis had kept in check to the best of his ability while Andrew of Hungary lived. But, now that Joan was a widow and the prize of any man bold enough to snatch it from the rest, Louis of Taranto felt no hesitation in doing so when the opportunity offered.

Therefore, it came about that, on his return to the Castel Nuovo, Robert found himself shut out. Despite his clamour to be admitted, as he termed it, “to his own house” and his threats to exact bloody retribution from the sentries within for keeping him waiting, he received no attention from anybody until his mother came out to him, trembling and confused, to say that in his absence his brother Louis had effected an entry into the castle and had compelled Joan to go through a form of marriage with him.

The effect of the news upon Robert may be easily imagined. After staring, speechless, at his informant for a few minutes, there broke from him a cry of rage and, turning his horse, he tore off at a gallop towards the Palazzo Durazzo. Here he found Duke Charles in the company of the Duchess Maria and informed them as well as he could, for fury, of what had taken place. It ended in Charles’ promising him that he would leave no stone unturned to prevent the necessary confirmation by the Pope of the union of Louis with the Queen; and that, so long as he, Charles of Durazzo, lived, no such confirmation should be put into practice.

That same day he wrote to the Pope at Avignon asking for a Papal enquiry into the murder of Andrew of Hungary and laying before the Holy Father the names of those implicated in it; thus he hoped to obtain the deposal of Joan from the throne and the reversion of it to himself as husband of the next rightful heir, Maria of Anjou; also to insure the destruction of the Empress of Constantinople as a participant in Andrew’s death.

It was long before the Pope’s answer reached him, and, when at last it did, it was rather disappointing. For Clement VI replied with a Bull dated June 2, 1346, addressed to Beltram des Baux, Count of Monte Scaglioso and Chief Justice of Sicily, bidding him draw up a charge against the murderers of King Andrew—who were formally anathematised—and to punish them with the utmost severity. A secret codicil to the Bull, however, expressly forbade the Chief Justice to proceed against or in any way to implicate in his handling of the case either the Queen herself or any of her relatives. So, to avoid causing still more lamentable disorders in the already distracted kingdom, any such malefactors of the Blood Royal, added the Pope, would be dealt with later by himself, alone, as the Supreme Head of the Church and Suzerain lord of the Kingdom of Naples.

The Count of Monte Scaglioso showed himself no laggard in discharging the duty thus entrusted to his zeal and ability.

Within three days from the reception of the Papal Bull he was able to announce that the trial of the late King’s murderers would be held on the following day in the great hall of San Luigi in the Castel Nuovo, the same vast apartment in which Pope Celestino V had abdicated the Pontificate in 1294. In the hall were seats for all the principal nobles of the kingdom round about that of the Chief Justice himself. The two accused persons were both men—Tommaso Pace, King Andrew’s valet, and Nicholas of Melazzo, the confederate of Charles of Durazzo and the same who had played the part of Judas as well as that of “Omri who slew his master.” Both were brought from their prison to the Castel Nuovo to undergo a preliminary torture that should make them confess their guilt at once and so save the time and trouble of their judges.