© Jeff Matthews
entry May 2012
Angevin Rule
in Naples (simplified!)
—(an easy guide for those with MADD—Medieval Attention
Deficit Disorder!)
Statue of Charles of Anjou by T. Solari
at the Royal Palace in Naples.
The first change of dynasties
(that is, from the Normans to the Hohenstaufens) in the
Kingdom of Sicily (later known as the Kingdom of Naples)
was so peaceful that most people didn't notice. In the
1150s, the last Norman king (dynasty#1) died without a
male heir. One of his granddaughters, however, had married
the son of the German emperor Barbarossa. Their child
would become Frederick II and, thus, the Kingdom of the
Two Sicilies passed to German rule. It was peaceful and
domestic—just like your in-laws coming to stay with you
and taking over your house for a few years, that's all.
The second change, however — from the German
Hohenstaufens (dynasty#2) to French Angevins (dynasty#3) —
was so violent that the whole European continent noticed.
Frederick II of Hohenstaufen,
the strong, almost messianic, Holy Roman Emperor, was at
the heart of the power struggle between those (the
Ghibellines) who favored a strong empire and those (the
Guelphs) who favored an all-powerful church. When he died
in 1250, the situation was at somewhat of a stand-off.
Frederick's death, however, was the opportunity for a
combined Papal and pro-church French Anjou (Angevin) army
to break the stalemate; they invaded the Kingdom of Sicily
and did battle with Manfred,
Frederick's heir, already on his way to becoming an able
ruler in his own right. The southern half of the peninsula
was thus torn by a brutal war of succession. Manfred was
killed in battle and victory went to the French. And so
King Charles of Anjou arrived in 1266 and began two
centuries of Angevin rule of southern Italy, a period that
continued the tradition of a monarchy ruling a large
kingdom in the south of the peninsula, while the rest of
Italy was fragmenting into city communes and duchies. The
first thing Charles did was to capture Manfred's heir, the
teenaged Corradin, and have him beheaded in Piazza Mercato
in Naples. No sense in taking chances.
Charles then moved the capital of the Kingdom of
Sicily from Palermo to Naples. That put him closer to his
French interests but at the same time removed him and his
capital, physically, from Sicily. That then led to some
Angevin fragmenting when a seemingly trivial incident in
Palermo set off the episode of the Sicilian
Vespers in 1282. It turned into a successful
anti-French revolt, which resulted in the Angevins being
expelled from Sicily. The Sicilians called on an Aragonese
king, Peter, to rule them and thus became part of one of
the most obscure, yet fascinating confederations in
European history, the Crown of
Aragon. The episode also set the stage for the
concept of the "Two Sicilies"—the Aragonese one on Sicily
and the Angevin one on the mainland, each claiming to be
the "real" Sicily. It was a shaky start for Charles of
Anjou; he lost a big chunk of the kingdom and then had to
contend with pesky naval tactics from Sicily as far north
as Naples—pesky enough to capture and hold Ischia and
Capri for a while and even to kidnap Charles' son and hold
him as a bargaining chip. His son, Charles II, was
released and it was he who eventually managed a truce with
Sicily. It gave the Angevins some time to build a kingdom
from their base in Naples.
If there was a Golden Age of Angevin Rule, it was
under Charles II's son, Robert, crowned in 1310, so
well-thought of historically, that his by-name is Robert
the Wise. He ruled until 1343, during which time Naples
began to look like a medieval capital; work would begin or
approach completion on some of the city's most important
monuments, including the Maschio Angioino, the Duomo, San
Lorenzo, Santa Chiara and San Martino. It was a time when
artists, craftsmen and traders from elsewhere in Italy and
Europe came to Naples to work and where illustrious men of
letters such as Boccaccio lived and wrote of the "happy,
peaceful, generous and magnificent Naples".
Angevin rule of the Kingdom of Naples (still called
the Kingdom of Sicily at the time) continued for another
century, and it was as opposite from a "Golden Age" as you
can imagine. The period had all those elements we
associate with the Middle Ages: plots, crossbows &
drawbridges, incompetent rulers, petty barons, murder,
torture and long-suffering serfs. The most agonizingly
complex episode is the one in which Queen Joan I of Naples
(read about both Joans, here)
apparently murders her husband; said husband's brother,
Louis of Hungary, then invades Naples to get revenge; Joan
flees to France; Louis and his Hungarians don't get
their revenge, but they do sack Naples and leave
with the silverware; Joan returns, marries Otto von
Brunswick, supports an anti-Pope against the legitimate
Pope and is ex-communicated; the real Pope then offers the
crown of Naples to Louis of Hungary. He says no and gives
it to his nephew, Charles of Durazzo. The armies of Joan
and Otto then clash with the armies of Charles in the
streets of Naples. Charles wins. Joan and Otto go to
prison in the Castel dell'Ovo. Otto dies and Joann is
moved to another prison where she is murdered, probably on
the command of Charles. (I left a lot out!)
Charles, however, is murdered and his queen and
son/heir, Ladislaus, then hole up in Gaeta, a few miles
north of Naples, for ten years while Naples is enmeshed in
struggle by various claimants to the throne. Ladislaus
returns and takes the city in 1394. He reigns until 1414.
At his death the throne passes to his sister, the second
Joan. The last 20 years of her rule are the last of real
Angevin rule in Naples. It is a dark and thoroughly nasty
period, devoid, as far as I can tell, of any redeeming
light or virtue.
(The early 1400s were pretty bleak elsewhere in the
world, as well, so maybe Naples has no special claim to
misery: in 1401, Tamerlane sacked Baghdad and slaughtered
thousands; in 1403, the Doge of Venice imposed the world's
first quarantine against the Black Death; Joan of Arc was
burned at the stake in 1431. Yet, on the other hand, for
you Pollyannas, the University of Leipzig was founded in
1409, and in 1421, a translation into Latin of the Geography by
2nd-century Greek astronomer, Ptolemy, revives the old
crazy notion that the world might be round. Somewhere in
the middle is the Battle of Agincourt (1415) which at
least gave us rousing battlefield rhetoric, if only in
literature, a couple of centuries later.)
From this day to
the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not
here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
[William Shakespeare, Henry V, Act
IV Scene iii]
Joann II died
in 1435. By complex rules of heredity, the throne of
Naples passed for a few years to René of Anjou. The
Aragonese rulers of Sicily then made war on the Angevins
of Naples and won. Alfonso of Aragon took the throne of
Naples in 1443 and proclaimed that he had "reunited the
Two Sicilies."
(See also: Catalan
Expansion in the Mediterranean.)
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the grown-up version of Angevin Naples!
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