The Department of Var—A lifeless town—Dolmen—S. Armentarius kills a dragon—The old walled town—The Fronde—The Sabreurs and the Canifets—Les Tourettes—Joanna I. of Naples; her story—The Crown of Jerusalem—Charles I. of Anjou—Death of Conradin—Murder of Andrew of Hungary—Philippine Cabane—Louis of Hungary invades Naples—Joanna buys a sentence clearing her of guilt by the sale of Avignon—Joanna’s many sales—Again declared innocent—Charles of Durazzo—Urban VI. and Clement VII.—Urban incites Charles against Joanna; her assassination; her character—Butello—Death of Charles—Joanna II. makes RÉnÉ her heir—Pedigree—Joanna and Caracciolo.

DRAGUIGNAN is the capital of the Department of Var. The name of the department is a misnomer. It received the name when the department extended to that river, formerly the boundary of France. But when, in 1860, Nice was ceded to France and the department of the Maritime Alps was formed, then a slice of territory, through which flowed the River Var, was detached and united to the newly constituted department. The consequence is that the River Var at no point runs through the department to which it gave its name.

Draguignan is not an interesting town. It lives on its character as departmental capital. It has no manufactures, no trade, no life save that which is infused into it when the young folk come up there for examination for professions, and from the military who are quartered there, and from the prisons which accommodate the criminals of the department. Draguignan is supposed to have been a Greek town called Antea. But there must have been people living here in prehistoric times, for near the town is a dolmen as fine as any in Brittany or Wales. It is composed of four upright stones supporting a quoit eighteen feet long and fifteen wide, and the height above the ground is seven feet.

In the Middle Ages the place was called Drachoenum, and it was fabled that the old town stood on the heights above, as the plain was ravaged by a dragon. St. Armentarius, Bishop of Antibes (A.D. 451) slew the monster, whereupon the people came down from the heights and settled where is the present town. The town really began to flourish in the thirteenth century, when, owing to the silting up of the port of FrÉjus, that city declined in prosperity. Then it was surrounded by a wall pierced by three gates, of which two remain. Within the old walls the streets are scarce six feet wide, and the houses run up to a great height. The sun never penetrates to their pavement. The town was also defended by a castle on rising ground. In 1535 Draguignan was one of the principal SÉnÉchaussÉes of Provence. She rapidly spread beyond the walls, and then a second circuit of walls was erected where is now the boulevard; but portions of the ramparts to the east and north-east still remain.

In 1650 Draguignan was the scene of bloody fights on account of the troubles of the Fronde. During the minority of Louis XIV., the Regent, Anne of Austria, committed all authority to Cardinal Mazarin. He loaded the country with taxes, took away the privileges from the towns, and from the nobles, and strove to centralise the Government and establish the despotism of the Crown. This roused the fiercest opposition, and the country was divided into factions; one for the Court and centralization, the other for the maintenance of local self-government. This latter party was the Fronde. In Draguignan some Frondists attempted to get hold of the castle; the people rose, armed with spits and clubs, and drove them away. The parties distinguished themselves by wearing ribbons, white or blue.

Two years later civil war broke out again between the Sabreurs, the Fronde party, and the Canifets, the favourers of Royal prerogative; each was headed by a young peasantess armed with a scythe. Frightful violence ensued. The mayor and many officers of the town were killed. Men, women, and children were massacred indiscriminately as this or that faction got the upper hand.

The king sent troops to Draguignan, and ordered the demolition of the castle, which was the bone of contention between the parties, and most of the Sabreurs fled into Piedmont. The story goes that a cavalry regiment called La Cornette blanche was quartered in the town, and having behaved with great insolence, the people rose in the night and massacred every man in the regiment, But in the municipal records there is nothing to be found to confirm the tradition.

Les Tourettes by Fayence, easily accessible from Draguignan, is a most extraordinary pile, like no other castle known. In the time of the religious wars it was held by the Carcists, and they, being short of provisions, at night raided the neighbourhood. The people of Fayence complained to the Governor of Provence, and he authorised them to take what measures they liked to free themselves of the inconvenience. Accordingly they sent for a cannon from Antibes and proceeded to batter the castle down; and by keeping up an incessant fire they made the castle too hot for the Carcists, who fled, and then the good folk of Fayence proceeded to gut and unroof the castle, so as to save themselves from further annoyance from that quarter.

Draguignan was supplied with water by a canal cut, so it is asserted, by Queen Jeanne I. of Sicily, and she is also credited with having built the church at Salernes at the confluence of the Bresgne and the Brague, and to have resided at Draguignan.

It is remarkable that only two names of their former rulers have any hold on the imagination and hearts of the ProvenÇals of to-day, and these the names of two totally different characters—la reino Jeanno and good King RÉnÉ. It was through Queen Joanna or Jeanne of Sicily that King RÉnÉ acquired his empty royal titles. At Grasse a flight of stone steps built into a vaulted passage is all that remains of her palace. Houses said to have been occupied by her are pointed out in many places, but in some instances, as in that of the pretty Renaissance palace of Queen Jeanne at Les Baux, there is confusion made between her and Jeanne de Laval, the wife of King RÉnÉ.

It may be asked, How in the name of Wonder did Joanna obtain the title of Queen of Jerusalem, so as to transmit the Crown of the Holy City to RÉnÉ through her grandniece, Joanna II.?

The bitter and implacable hostility borne by the Popes to the German Imperial House of Hohenstauffen led Urban IV. to invite S. Louis, King of France, to assume the title of King of Sicily and Naples. But the delicate conscience of Louis revolted from such an usurpation. If the Crown were hereditary, it belonged to Conradin, grandson of Frederick II., the Great Redbeard, Emperor, King of Germany and of Sicily. But Charles of Anjou, the brother of S. Louis, was less scrupulous. He accepted the invitation. On the death of Urban, Clement IV. pursued the same policy. Manfred, the uncle of Conradin, then wore the Crown of the Sicilies. He was defeated by Charles and fell in battle, 1266, before the army of the Pope and of Charles of Anjou, marching as crusaders. Manfred left an only child, Constance, married to Peter III., King of Aragon. Conradin, at the head of an army, advanced to claim the Crown that was now his by right, regardless of the excommunication and curses hurled at him by the Pope. He was defeated and taken prisoner. Clement, fearful lest Charles should deal leniently towards the last of the Hohenstaufens, wrote to urge him to smother all feelings of pity.

“The life of Conradin,” he wrote, “is the death of Charles; the death of Conradin is the life of Charles”; and the Anjou prince had the last male of this noble race executed publicly. As Conradin stood on the scaffold, he flung his glove among the people, crying out that he constituted the King of Aragon his heir.

Charles was now King of the Two Sicilies. But he was ambitious of a more splendid title, and he bought that of Jerusalem from Mary of Antioch, daughter of Bohimund V., who inherited the title of King of Jerusalem from his mother, Melusina, daughter of Amaury de Lusignan, twelfth sovereign of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem. But Jerusalem itself had fallen into the hands of the Saracens in 1244.

To return now to Jeanne de Naples.

Joanna I. of Naples was born in 1327, and was the daughter of Charles, Duke of Calabria, and of Marie de Valois, his second wife. Charles was the only son of Robert the Good, King of Naples, who was the grandson of Charles of Anjou, brother of S. Louis, to whom had been given the Crown of Naples by Pope Urban IV., determined at any cost to destroy the Hohenstauffen dynasty.

Charles, Duke of Calabria, died before his father, and Joanna succeeded to the throne at the age of sixteen.

She had been badly brought up. Philippine Cabane, a washerwoman, wife of a fisherman, had been nurse to Charles, and she became later the nurse and confidante of Joanna. She was a very beautiful and a thoroughly unprincipled woman. On the death of her husband she married a young Saracen slave in the service of Raymond de Cabane, maÎtre d’hÔtel to the King. Raymond fell under the influence of this Saracen, and he introduced him to King Robert, who created him Grand Seneschal, to the indignation of the Sicilian nobility, and himself armed the Saracen knight.[9] Soon after marrying this man, we find “la Cabanaise,” as she was called, installed as lady of honour to Catherine of Austria, first wife of Charles of Calabria. Soon she induced Raymond to adopt her husband, and to give him his title and bequeath his fortune to him. Catherine of Austria died, and then Charles married Marie de Valois; and when Jeanne or Joanna was born, Charles entrusted his child to this infamous woman.

King Robert had been younger brother of Charles Martel, King of Hungary, and the Crown of Naples was liable to be disputed between the branches. It was therefore deemed advisable to marry Joanna to Andrew, son of Caroly I., and grandson of Charles Martel, King of Hungary.

Joanna and Andrew were married when mere children—she, in fact, was only seven when affianced to him. She and Andrew never liked each other, and when they occupied one throne, dislike ripened into aversion; two factions rent the Court with their rivalries, one favoured by the King, the other by the Queen. At last Philippine Cabane induced Joanna to acquiesce in a plot to murder Andrew. One evening in September, 1345, when the Court was at Averso, the chamberlain of the King entered the bedroom, where were Andrew and Joanna, and announced to him that he had despatches of importance to communicate. Andrew rose from bed and went into the adjoining apartment, where he was set upon, and hung from the bars of the window with a rope into which gold thread had been twisted by the hands of Joanna, for as Andrew was a king, “Let him be strangled royally,” she had said.

The body of Andrew was left hanging from the window for two days. Joanna at the time was aged eighteen, but she was utterly corrupt in mind. At quite an early age she had had a liaison with the son of la Cabanaise. Pope Clement VI. deemed it incumbent on him as suzerain to order the murderers to be punished; but only accessories suffered. Philippine was tortured and died under torture. Her son, Robert de Cabane, was also made to suffer in like manner; but a wad was put in his mouth to prevent him from betraying the part the Queen had in the murder, and those publicly executed were also so gagged that they might not reveal her complicity in the crime.

In less than two years after, on August 20th, 1347, Joanna married Louis of Tarentum, her cousin, who had been one of the prime investigators of the murder. But Louis, King of Hungary, was determined to avenge the death of his brother, and he marched an army against Naples, under a black flag, on which was embroidered a representation of the murder of Andrew.

Louis of Tarentum headed an army of Neapolitans against the invader, but it dispersed of itself, and Joanna fled with him to Provence in January, 1348, leaving behind her, in heartless indifference, her son, the child of the murdered Andrew.

On reaching Provence she found the barons there by no means disposed to receive her with cordiality. The atrocity of the crime revolted them, and for a whole year they held her in prison. She was arraigned before the world as an adulteress and a murderess.

At length, thanks to the intervention of Pope Clement VI., she was allowed to take refuge in Avignon, where she arranged terms with Clement, that he should declare her innocent and sanction her marriage with her cousin, in exchange for which favour she was to make over to him, for a nominal sum, the city of Avignon without the Venaissin previously acquired. The stipulated sum was 80,000 gold florins, amounting to about £128,000 in modern money. The sale was in direct contravention to the terms of the will of King Robert, who constituted her heiress with the proviso that she was not to dissipate the Crown lands and rights in the Two Sicilies and in Provence. It was further a breach of a solemn oath she had taken to the barons “that she would never alienate or wrong her royal and loyal estates of Provence.” But Joanna was in need of money to prosecute the war against Louis of Hungary. For this purpose she sold rights and domains wherever she could find a purchaser. She disposed of the forests of the Montagnes des Maures to the town of HyÈres, and the fishing in the lake of HyÈres as well. The rights of the Crown to the harvest of the kermes or cochineal insect that lived on the oaks, were also sold. Parts of the EstÉrel were alienated. Marseilles and other towns bought of her valuable privileges.

Meanwhile, Louis of Hungary had lost much of his army about Naples, swept off by plague. He himself returned to Hungary, carrying with him the son of Joanna, born two months after the death of Andrew, deserted by her at Naples; the child, however, died soon after. Joanna, whitewashed by the Pope, returned to Naples in 1348, in August, whereupon Louis again appeared in Italy at the head of an army, but met with small success, and a truce was arranged; whereupon Joanna returned to Avignon, there to have her guilt or innocence formally tried before three cardinals nominated by the Pope.

Louis accused Joanna of being more than accessory to the murder of her husband, and Louis of Tarentum of being an instigator of the crime, and Cardinal Talleyrand Perigord as having also been in the plot.

Joanna appeared before the Papal Commission. She pleaded guilty only to having disliked her husband, and claimed that this was due to witchcraft. She was acquitted as innocent of all charges brought against her; and as the Pope was regarded as infallible judge, in morals as in matters of faith, the world was constrained to acquiesce in the judgment.

Joanna returned to Naples, where she held a gay, voluptuous court, frequented by the wits and artists of Italy. Boccaccio wrote for her his filthy tales, which he afterwards grouped together in the Decameron. Petrarch corresponded with her. Leonardo da Vinci painted her portrait; pupils of Giotto painted for her; Troubadours sang before her, and were fulsome in their praise.

But her rule was no rule at all. The country suffered from misgovernment. Companies of adventurers ravaged the kingdom, and carried their depredations to the very gates of Naples. Joanna cared for none of these things; did not give over her revelries and carnival entertainments. Her husband Louis was offended at her shameless gallantries, and beat her with his fists. He died in May, 1362; and she at once offered her hand to James of the House of Aragon, claimant to the throne of Majorca, a young and chivalrous prince. He accepted, and they were married in 1363; but she would not allow him any further title than that of Duke of Calabria.

He was disgusted with the frivolity of her Court, and with her conduct, and fearing lest the same fate should befall him that had come on her first husband Andrew, he quitted Naples and fled to Spain. James of Aragon died, and in 1376 Joanna married Otto of Brunswick. This fourth marriage offended Charles of Durazzo, grandson of John de Gravia, younger brother of Robert, King of the Two Sicilies, who calculated on succeeding to the throne and the county of Provence should Joanna die childless. His father Louis had been poisoned by Queen Joanna. Now ensued the great schism.

For seventy years the papal court had been at Avignon, and the Romans were sore that the money accruing from the influx of pilgrims, litigants, and suitors to the Pope should flow into the pockets of the Avignonese instead of their own. Gregory IX. had come to Rome, urged thereto by S. Catherine of Siena; and there he died in 1378. Thereupon the Romans, armed and furious, surrounded the conclave of the Cardinals, shouting for a Roman Pope. At the time there were in Rome sixteen Cardinals; eleven were French, four Italian, and one Spanish. Intimidated by the menaces of the populace, quaking for their lives, the Cardinals elected the Archbishop of Bari, a narrow-minded man, of low birth, coarse manners, no tact, and, as proved eventually, of remorseless cruelty. He showed at once of what stuff he was made by insulting the Cardinals, and by threats of swamping the college with Italian creations. The Cardinals fled to Anagni, where they issued a declaration that the election was void, as it had been made under compulsion, and that their lives had been threatened. However, the newly-elected Pope assumed the name of Urban VI. As Archbishop of Bari he had been the subject of Joanna, and she hailed his elevation, and sent him shiploads of fruit and wines, and the more solid gift of 20,000 florins. Her husband, Otho of Brunswick, went to Rome to pay his personal homage. But his reception was cold and repellent, and he retired in disgust.

Only four Cardinals adhered to Pope Urban. The Cardinals at Anagni proceeded to elect Robert, Bishop of Geneva, to the papal throne, and he assumed the title of Clement VII.

Joanna had sent a deputation to Urban, headed by her grand chancellor, Spinelli. In public, Urban treated the deputation with a torrent of abuse, saying that he would eject the queen from her throne, and shut her up in a cloister; aye, and would put in her place a man capable of governing well. Spinelli replied that the people were content with their legitimate sovereign; that she was not fit for a cloister; and that if force were used she would find arms ready to defend her.

Urban had thrown down the gauntlet. Joanna, furious at the insult, at once acknowledged Clement as Pope.

At first the rival Popes hurled ecclesiastical thunders at each other; each denounced his rival as Antichrist, and each excommunicated his rival’s adherents. France, Spain, Scotland, the Two Sicilies, acknowledged Clement; Germany, Hungary, and England, and the major part of Italy, recognised Urban.

All the fury of this latter was now turned against Joanna, and he sent a deputation to Hungary to incite Charles of Durazzo to take up arms against her. Charles was not willing to do so. He knew that now Joanna was an old woman, and most unlikely to have children, and that in a few years inevitably the crown would fall to him.

But at this juncture, Joanna made a fatal mistake. Hearing of what the Pope had done, and supposing that Charles would at once comply with his urgency, she declared that she disinherited Charles, and bequeathed all her rights to the Two Sicilies and to Provence to Louis of Anjou, second son of King John of France.

Thereupon Charles hesitated no longer. He raised an army in Hungary, and prepared to invade Neapolitan territories. Pope Urban hired the services of a ruffian captain of a Free Company, Alberic Barbiano, to assist. Urban was not, however, prepared to support Charles without getting some advantage out of him, and he bargained with him that the Principality of Capua should be given to his nephew, Butillo Prignano. When Charles arrived in Rome, Urban decreed the deposition of Joanna, and invested Charles with the sovereignty, and himself crowned him. In the meantime Urban was busy in forming a party in Naples against the Queen, to whom Clement had fled. Among the twenty-six Cardinals whom he created in one day were several Neapolitans of the highest families and dignities in the kingdom. He degraded the Archbishop of Naples, and appointed in his room Bozzato, a man of influence and of powerful connexions in the city. By this means he secured a faction in Naples, opposed to Joanna and to her Pope. The new Archbishop set himself at the head of the opposition. Clement was so alarmed for his safety that he embarked, escaped to Provence, and retreated to Avignon.

The Hungarian and Papal forces marched into the kingdom of Naples, and met with no organised resistance. Joanna was besieged in the Castel Nuovo, and Otho of Brunswick was captured in a sortie. Joanna in vain awaited help from the Duke of Anjou, and was forced by famine to surrender. She was confined in Muro, and at first was well treated, as Charles hoped that she would revoke her will in his favour. But when he saw that she was resolved not to do this, he sent to ask the King of Hungary what was to be done with her. The answer was that the same measure was to be meted out to her that had been measured to Andrew; and she was either strangled whilst at her prayers, or smothered under a feather bed, on May 12th, 1382.

She was buried first at Muro, and then her body was transferred to Naples.

Opinions were divided as to her character. Angelo de Perugia qualified her as “santissima,” and spoke of her as “l’onore del mundo, la luce dell’Italia”; Petrarch greatly admired her; and recently, Mistral has composed a poem in which she is painted as a blameless and misrepresented personage. Her sister Maria was almost as bad as herself. She also had her husband, Robert des Baux, murdered. It is true that she had been married to him against her will. When she got the power in her hands she flung him into prison, and, entering the dungeon, along with four armed men, had him assassinated before her eyes, and the body cast out of a window and left without burial, till Joanna heard of her sister’s action, when she sent and had the body decently interred.[10]

After that Joanna had been put to death, Marie, natural daughter of Robert of Naples, and aunt of Joanna, was tried and executed as having been privy to the plot to murder Andrew. This Marie had carried on an intrigue with Boccaccio, and is believed to be the Fiammetta of the Decameron; but according to others, Fiammetta was intended for Joanna herself.

The Pope’s nephew, who was to be invested with the Principality of Capua as the price of Urban’s assistance, soon after this broke into a convent and ravished a nun of high birth and great beauty. Complaints were made to the Pope. He laughed it off as a venial outburst of youth; but Butillo was forty years old. The new king’s justice would not, however, endure the crime. A capital sentence was passed on Butillo. Pope Urban annulled the sentence, and Butillo was, if not rewarded, bought off by being given a wife, the daughter of the justiciary, and of the king’s kindred, with a dowry of 70,000 florins a year, and a noble castle at Nocera. Thus satisfied, Urban excommunicated Louis of Anjou, declared him accursed, preached a crusade against him, and offered plenary indulgence to all who should take up arms against him.

The War of Inheritance ensued after the death of Joanna, devastating alike Naples and Provence.

Charles of Durazzo, whom Urban had crowned, had married his cousin Margaret, daughter of his uncle Charles, who had been executed in 1348 by Louis of Hungary, for having counselled the murder of his cousin Andrew. The father of Charles had been, as already intimated, poisoned by Joanna. Louis, King of Hungary, died in 1382; whereupon Charles claimed that kingdom, but was taken by Elizabeth, widow of Louis, thrown into prison, and murdered there by her orders. Charles left a son, Ladislas, and a daughter, Joanna. Ladislas was poisoned in 1414, as was supposed, and then Joanna II. became Queen of the Two Sicilies. Although twice married, she had no family, and she adopted RÉnÉ of Anjou and Provence as her heir, and died in 1435.

The whole pedigree is such a tangle, and the place of each actor in the historic drama so difficult to fix without having a genealogical table before the eye, that I have appended one, omitting all such entries as do not specially concern the story. I may merely add that Joanna’s second husband was her cousin, descended from Philip of Tarentum, brother of her grandfather, Robert of the Sicilies. Also, that the county of Provence descended to Joanna I. and Joanna II., through their common ancestor, Charles II. of Anjou, son of Charles I. and Beatrix, the heiress of that county. About her I shall have something to say later on.

Joanna II. was not much better as a woman than Joanna I. She was enamoured of her handsome seneschal, Gian Caracciolo, who did not respond to her advances. One day she inquired of her courtiers what animal each mainly disliked. One said a toad, another a spider: Caracciolo declared his utter loathing for a rat.

Next day, when he was on his way to his room, he met a servant of the Queen with a cage full of rats. As he was attempting to pass by, the domestic opened the cage door, and out rushed the rats. Caracciolo fled, and, trying every door in the passage, found all locked save one, that into the Queen’s apartment. She created him Duke of Avellino and Lord of Capua. One day, in 1432, relying on the favour he enjoyed, he asked to be created Prince of Capua. When she refused, he boxed her ears. This was an outrage she could not forgive, and by her orders he was assassinated in his room.[11] The Queen died two years later.

“Jeanne II.,” says Alexis de Saint Priest, “fit assoir tous les vices sur le trÔne des Angevins sans la compensation d’aucun talent, ni d’aucune vertu.” Joanna I. had some cleverness, and in that, and in that alone, was superior to the second Joanna.