Italian Yesterdays, vol. 2

by Mrs. Hugh Fraser

The King of Hungary being encamped at Aversa, Charles of Durazzo and Robert of Taranto now repaired there to him with the purpose of turning away his anger from themselves and their families. They were received, to their great consolation and encouragement, with every possible manifestation of benignity; the King even going so far as to enquire after their youngest brothers, Louis of Durazzo and Philip of Taranto, and to express the most lively desire to make their acquaintance as soon as possible. Finally he begged they might be sent for, in order, as he put it, “that he might make his entry into Naples in the midst of all his family.” With these requests their elders made all speed to comply, so that, within a few hours, the boy, Louis of Durazzo, and the young man, Philip of Taranto, were with them in the castle of Aversa, the Hungarian headquarters. On their being presented to him, the King embraced them, and chatted with them a little while; after which he made them, with their elder brothers, sit down with him to supper, not parting with them until a late hour of the night.

Now there were with the King of Hungary two noblemen of Naples, Lillo of Aquila and the Count of Fondi, both of them brave and honourable gentlemen and haters of cruelty and treachery. And, when Charles of Durazzo went to bed that night, these came to his bedside and bade him beware, for that the Hungarian was a tyrant and no gentleman and that, for all his fair words, he had only that morning taken council with his followers that he might put Charles himself to death and send the other Neapolitan princes in captivity into Hungary. But to these warnings Charles turned a deaf ear, although Lillo persisted in them and implored him, for the sake of all he held dear in this world, to save himself with his brothers and his cousins; until Charles angrily bade his well-wishers to leave him in peace.

All the next day the demeanour of the King continued the same until the evening, when, as they were all at supper, Charles received yet a last warning of his danger from Lillo of Aquila, who was waiting upon him at table.

“Oh, why does your Highness refuse to listen to me?” he whispered. “Fly—fly—there is still time to save yourself.”

But Charles, irritated by Lillo’s persistency, threatened, unless he held his peace, to repeat his words aloud to the King; and Lillo could only bow in submission, whispering as he did so:

“At least, I have done my duty; and now may the will of God be done, likewise, in regard to you.”

At that moment the King rose and confronted Charles, with a terrible countenance; so that the latter was now, at last, rudely awakened from his dream of security.

“Ah, traitor, now I hold you in my hand!” cried the King. “Be sure that I will do justice upon you—full justice—for your crimes,—your daring to march against my city of Aquila—you, by whose invitation I came to give peace to this miserable land that has groaned so long beneath the burden of you and yours.”

He then went on to reproach Charles with having been, together with his mother’s brother, Cardinal de Périgord, the means of postponing the coronation of Andrew, and so of bringing him to his untimely end; furthermore, he accused Charles of designing to obtain the kingdom for himself by his abductive marriage with the Princess Maria, his own, King Louis’, intended bride; which last delinquency had all along rankled fearfully in the King’s mind, so that as he referred to it his voice broke into a shout of fury. And then, turning away from the excuses and pleadings for mercy of his victim, he ordered the Voivode, Stephen of Transylvania, to take charge of all the prisoners and to keep them for the night in a room near his, the King’s, own apartment.

The next day King Louis, having visited that balcony in the Castle of Aversa from which the dead body of his brother Andrew had been hanged and then thrown into the garden below, sent an order to the Voivode Stephen that he was to have Charles of Durazzo brought by soldiers to that same place and that they were to cut his throat; but the King himself did not stay to witness the execution. And when word of the King’s order was brought to the Voivode, he told Charles to follow him; and, together with some soldiers, they went out to the room of the balcony. There the Voivode asked of Charles whether he wished to confess his sins to a priest; who answered in the affirmative, and so one of the monks came to him from the monastery, and heard his confession, and absolved him in so far as he was able to do. After which Duke Charles knelt down over against the fatal balcony and commended his poor soul to God, and was killed by having a very sharp knife drawn across his throat (so that his head was nearly severed from his body) by one of the soldiers, whilst another plunged a sword into his heart that he might die quickly. And when the thing was done they threw the dead body of the Duke over the balcony into the garden.