Italian Yesterdays, vol. 2

by Mrs. Hugh Fraser

Charles’ Further Acts as Dictator—Rise of the Favoured Louis of Taranto—Civil War—A Scheme of the Empress of Constantinople—Interference of the King of Hungary—The Empress Again to the Rescue—Hungary’s Advance—Death of the Empress—Flight of the Neapolitan Nobles—Joan and Her Husband in Provence—Charles’ Well-merited Fate—The King of Hungary’s Vengeance—Government by Execution.

This detestable butchery, strictly in accord with the criminal procedure of the day, was but the beginning of a reign of terror in the city and realm of Naples. The murder of Andrew of Hungary was soon no more than a pretext to serve Charles of Durazzo for ridding himself of all persons who, in any way, dared to manifest their disapproval of his assumption of the Dictatorship of the Kingdom or to murmur against his unbearable tyranny. Nor was it long before Louis of Taranto, who by now had completely won the heart of Joan, and was seeking to obtain from the Pope the dispensations necessary to make lawful their irregular union, began to consider the high-handed and arrogant conduct of Charles—whom and all whose works he abominated—as an intolerable affront to himself. In consequence, having armed his retainers and increased his forces as much as he could, Louis raised his standard as King of Naples and Jerusalem and bade his loyal subjects rally to him in opposition to the Albanian usurper of his sovereign rights.

In this manner there broke out a regular civil war throughout the country; now the victory inclined to Louis, and now to Charles and his ally, Robert of Taranto, the elder brother of Louis, and the disappointed suitor of Joan. But a day soon came when there was no longer left to Louis any more money; and without money he was naturally helpless to pay his troops. Both he and Joan were in despair, when his mother, the Empress of Constantinople, who was living with them, showed the true mettle of which she was made.

Bidding the young couple take heart, Catherine of Taranto promised solemnly that, if they would but lend her the half of their forces and would content themselves with remaining for a week on the defensive in the Castel Nuovo, she would bring them at the end of that time a treasure such as they had never yet even imagined. To this proposal they perforce consented; and the Empress, leading half her son’s army, marched boldly out from Naples by the Porta Capuana, along the road towards Benevento, and so came by way of the Caudine Forks to the castle of Saint Agatha of the Goths, where Queen Joan’s former lover, Bertrand of Artois, and his father, old Count Charles, were still skulking from the law.

Now when Count Charles perceived that troops were preparing to besiege him, and recognised their leader as the Empress, he sent out messengers to enquire her intentions in coming thus with a large force into his neighbourhood; to which Catherine replied, speaking as follows (her speech is translated literally):

“My most beloved ones (‘Dilettissimi miei’), pray report to our friend Charles that we desire to speak with him privately upon a matter of equal interest to us both; and that he need feel no uneasiness at seeing us come thus with an armed force to him, for we have done so expressly for a certain purpose, the which we will explain to him at our leisure. We know that he is confined to his bed with an attack of gout and so we were not surprised that he did not come out in person to greet us. And so pray salute him from us and reassure him as to our intentions towards him; and say that we would fain enter to him—if such be his pleasure—with Master Nicholas Acciajuoli, our privy councillor, and no more than ten of our soldiers, in order to confer with him upon a subject too important to be confided to messengers.”

Completely deceived by the pernicious woman’s fair words as reported to him, Count Charles sent out his son Bertrand to receive her with all due ceremony, and to escort her to where he himself lay prostrate with illness. Their meeting was cordial in the extreme; after expressing the most heartfelt regrets at the venerable knight’s sad condition, the Empress, so soon as they were alone together, lowering her voice, said that her object in so coming to him was to consult him in regard to the state of affairs in Naples and to enlist his active support on behalf of the Queen. At the same time, she went on to say, there being no immediate reason for her return to the capital, she would be more than grateful for the favour of being allowed to remain yet a few days with him at St. Agatha, in order to profit by his advice and to give him some account of all that had come to pass in Naples during his absence.

It ended in Count Charles’ head being quite turned by the Empress’ flattery; so that he not only begged her to remain his guest for so long as she pleased, but also gave orders for the gates of the castle to be left open so that she might be accessible at all times to her officers, civil and military, that were encamped outside the walls with her army.

But the fatuous credulity of Count Charles was soon undeceived. At a late hour of the following night, the gates of the fortress being still open and its rightful inmates sound asleep for the most part, the foolish old Count was suddenly awakened from his slumbers by the Empress of Constantinople, who, followed by several of her soldiers, entered his room, a dagger in her hand, and, advancing to his couch, seized him by the throat.

“Oh, accursed traitor, you are now going to be punished as you deserve!” she cried. And when he begged only mercy for his son—thinking the Empress had in mind to slay them both, lest at any time they should conspire against the kingship of her son, Louis of Taranto—and offered to put her in possession of his entire treasury if only she would spare the life of his adored son, to all his entreaties she answered only that he must prepare to part for ever from his son, whom she had decided to send away to the castle of Malfi; and that, as for Count Charles himself, the probability was that he would end his days in the dungeons of that of St. Agatha of the Goths. Prior to pronouncing these sentences, however, she had compelled him to show her where his immense treasures were concealed behind the wall of his bedchamber—a veritable Aladdin’s cave of gold in bars and in plate and of precious stones.