months; and all this time, in the midst of so much gaiety and profusion, András lived in the most painful state of dependence, not daring even to order himself a new dress without the permission of his wife and her council. In the hope that all would be altered so soon as he should be crowned, András bore these wrongs and affronts, for a time, with patience; but when he received intelligence that his coronation would shortly be authorized by the Pope, he took courage and changed his demeanour. Unexperienced in the ways of the world, above all of such a world as that of Naples, he allowed himself to be betrayed into many impolitic acts by his courtiers, who burnt with the desire to take vengeance for all the insults offered to their Prince. With the idea of striking terror into the hearts of his enemies, he appeared at a tournament with a banner, upon which, beneath the royal arms, appeared a blood-red block and an executioner's axe. He intended it as a warning to his enemies, that he should not always be powerless; and they took it as a signal to hurry on the execution of their wicked designs. One festival day, Queen Giovanna invited her husband to a grand hunt at Aversa, a few miles distant from Naples. The day passed pleasantly away, and towards evening the court retired to a monastery outside the town, for the banquet which was to conclude the amusements. Giovanna was perhaps more amiable than usual; and András, gratified by her attention, and roused from his depression by the gaiety around him, forgot his wrongs, and retired happily to rest. Some time after midnight, he was roused from his sleep by the intelligence that important news had come from Naples. Giovanna did not move; but András, suspecting nothing, hurried into the ante-room unarmed, and without other covering than his night-dress; and was immediately set upon by the conspirators, in whom he recognized some of those with whom he was most intimate. By a violent effort he disengaged himself from their grasp, and made his way back to the door of the bed-room; but he found it closed and fastened, and still Giovanna, who was within, did not move. The desperate struggle was renewed, and the noise of the scuffle awoke the faithful Hungarian attendant Ysolde, whose terrified cries began to rouse the other inhabitants of the monastery. But the murderers, though alarmed, were all the more determined not to let go their prey; and one of them, from a distance, threw over the Prince's head a noose of silk and gold, said to have been embroidered by Giovanna herself. With this they dragged him to the ground, hurried him to the balcony, strangled him, and cast his body down into the garden below, where it was found by Ysolde and the monks who had been summoned by his cries. The next morning Charles of Durazzo came with a band of armed men, and carried the body to the Cathedral of Naples, where, two days after, as no steps for the funeral were taken by the court, it was buried by the canon, in the chapel of S. Louis. The murderers had escaped unrecognized; and Giovanna, without VOL. 11. 2 PART 61. troubling herself even to look again upon her dead husband, returned to Naples, where for decency's sake, she remained a few days in retirement, but soon returned to her usual gay life. If, however, the death of the unfortunate young Prince made but little stir in Italy, it was far otherwise in his own native land. Deeply moved by the terrible news, Louis wrote to the Pope accusing Giovanna as the author of the plot against his brother, and demanding that she should be removed from the throne, and severely punished together with her accomplices; and that the little son whom she had lately borne, and named Charles-Martell, should be brought up at the Hungarian court, while Stephen, the Duke of Sclavonia, should govern Naples during his minority. Clement replied that he could not punish the Queen till her guilt was proved, and promised at once to institute an inquiry into the whole case. This he did; but the chief-justice to whom the investigation was committed, received orders from Avignon, to conceal from everyone but his Holiness, any proofs he might discover of the guilt of the Queen or the Princes. Many distinguished persons, both men and women, who were implicated in the conspiracy, perished by terrible deaths, but Giovanna and her cousins still remained unpunished; and Louis, feeling that there was little justice to be expected from the papal court, where its own interest was concerned, determined on going in person to Naples to avenge his brother's death. In vain, so soon as he heard that the Hungarian troops were on the march, did Clement send to Louis the Bull issued by John XXII., threatening with the ban all who should attack the kingdom of Naples. "The kingdom of Naples,' answered Louis, 'belongs to me by virtue of the rights of my forefathers. I shall faithfully perform all my duties as a vassal of the Church; but my cause is just, and my determination to maintain it by force of arms is fixed; your unjust ban will not move it, and cannot touch me in any way.' Still, therefore, the troops marched on, preceded by a black banner, on which was depicted a ghastly and death-like portrait of the murdered András. Giovanna, now married to her cousin Louis of Tarento, whom she had long loved, wrote in vain to the inexorably stern King, saying, that she had been passionately devoted to his brother András, and that his death had almost killed her; that she had had no part in it, and had been prevented from taking due vengeance, only by the pressure of circumstances, and the difficulty of discovering his murderers.' Such miserable protestations could deceive no one, and were utterly unavailing in turning Louis from his purpose. His answer was short and stern; and still the army with its terrible banner moved on. Everywhere Louis was received with joy; but, as he daily approached nearer and nearer to Naples, Giovanna and her husband fled to Provence. Arrived at Aversa, Louis occupied the apartments in which his brother had been murdered; and there, on the same spot where András had been strangled, did he cause to be beheaded Charles of Durazzo, husband of the Princess Maria, to whom, in spite of his pro testations of innocence, Louis ascribed a large share in his brother's murder. Guilty as he undoubtedly was of many other crimes, there were no positive proofs of Charles's complicity in this one; and his execution, besides being a most impolitic step, must ever remain a blot on Louis's generally great and noble character; for he had lured his victim to destruction by feigning friendship, and had delivered him to death without allowing him to plead his cause. If Louis, at this time, entertained the idea which he subsequently attempted to realize, of securing the throne of Naples by marrying the widowed Princess Maria, it is to be feared that Charles was sacrificed partly, at least, to clear the way for his own ambitious schemes. Even in Louis's veins flowed the blood of a race, which, gifted and talented as it was, possessed but little generosity, or true nobility of character; and it was not till later in life that he was able entirely to control the impulses of his naturally passionate temper. A few days after the execution of Charles, and the apprehension of the other princes of Durazzo and Tarento, Louis set out for Naples, and was met on the road by the delegates of the city, come to greet him with a flattering address; but he was in no mood for such frivolities, and bidding them be silent, rode on, till he reached the gate, where the barons were waiting for him with a splendid canopy, which they wished to hold over his head as he made his entrance. This honour, however, he also declined, for he had come on no festive mission; and he preferred to enter the city with his helmet on his head, and his trusty Hungarians at his side. The citizens, accustomed to the license and violence of the companies of foreign mercenaries, by which Italy was at this time infested, watched his entry with an anxiety which was soon exchanged for astonishment, as they noted the strict discipline of the Hungarian troops, and the promptitude with which any attempts at plundering on the part of the mob were repressed. The King appointed the Bishop of Grosswardein governor of the city; and by his measures, order and security were speedily restored. Here Cola Rienzi, the 'last of the Tribunes,' found a safe asylum on his expulsion from Rome, after his short-lived triumph; and here, so far as Louis was concerned, he might have remained in safety; for in spite of his desire to propitiate Clement, the King steadily refused to give up the fugitive into his hands. 6 On an appointed day, the barons of the kingdom assembled to do homage to King Louis, who presented to them his little nephew CharlesMartell, and after creating him Duke of Calabria, sent him away to be brought up in Hungary, while he himself took the title of King of Jerusalem and Sicily. Feeling it necessary, however, to secure, if possible, the papal sanction for his assumption of authority, he once more appealed to Clement. Meantime Giovanna, her husband, and sister, had been received at Avignon with every mark of honour, not to say adulation; and on Mid-Lent Sunday Clement had given a further proof of his sentiments, by selecting Giovanna's husband as the recipient of the consecrated Golden Rose. No favourable reply could therefore be expected from him; but in spite of his displeasure, Louis would have persisted in holding Naples, and in compelling an inquiry into Giovanna's conduct, had he not been forced to leave Italy by a foe more powerful than Pope Clement. The Black-Death, imported from Asia by some Genoese ships, was already making terrible ravages in Italy, and had so diminished the Hungarian army, that Louis, partly perhaps to escape infection, but chiefly to raise fresh troops, quitted Naples; (1348.) leaving, however, Apor István, the Vajda of Transylvania, to act as his viceregent. Arrived in Hungary, Louis took up his quarters at Buda, since Visegrád had been converted into a sort of state-prison for the Princes of Tarento and Durazzo. No sooner had he quitted Naples, than the inhabitants, exasperated by the exactions of some of the Hungarian officers, and resenting the presence of foreign troops, secretly invited Giovanna to return. She and her husband accepted the invitation, as soon as they had raised sufficient money by the sale of the town of Avignon to the Pope, and came back under the protection of a band of German mercenaries; and Louis, finding that all his negociations with the Pope led to no result, again set out for Naples, (1350.) which he speedily re-took. Seeing that he was not to be turned from his purpose of obtaining justice, Clement at length sent ambassadors, to arrange a truce till the following spring, and promised, in the meantime, to investigate Giovanna's conduct. If she were proved guilty, Louis was to be invested with the fief of Naples, Charles Martell being already dead; and if innocent, she was to pay the Hungarian King a large sum of money, as some indemnification for the cost of the war; meanwhile, both parties were to remain in possession of what they had won; but the three principal persons concerned, Louis, Giovanna, and her husband, were to leave Naples. These conditions Louis at once hastened to fulfil, and set out on a pilgrimage to Rome, where the second Jubilee was being held; and where, by order of the Pope, he was released, for the consideration of four thousand gold florins, from the ban, which had long lain heavy on his heart. Thence he returned to Hungary, where he heard (1352.) that Giovanna had been pronounced innocent. The tribunal which had been appointed to try the case, had had recourse to a novel expedient for delivering the guilty Queen from the hands of justice. Giovanna was instructed to say she had been bewitched, and thus deprived of all affection for her husband, whose murder was planned and executed while she was under this evil influence and without power to prevent it. In those days, few persons doubted the possibility of witchcraft, and fewer still dared question the validity of a judgement pronounced by the Pope. Therefore Louis's delegates signed the peace, and, in the name of their royal master, renounced the three hundred thousand golden florins which had been adjudged to him for the expenses of the war; whereupon, Pope and cardinals broke forth into loud rejoicings, and praised the Hungarian King's generosity. Truly Louis was too generous, and too noble-hearted, to take money in payment for the blood of his Hungarians, or as satisfaction for the murder of his brother. He had already sent the Italian Princes home, accompanied, as far as the Venetian border, by a guard of honour; and he now recalled his troops from Naples, yielding to the Pope's deputies all the places in his possession, retaining, however, as an assertion of his rights, the title of Duke of Salerno. Such was the issue of the long struggle, which Louis had undertaken with noble feelings, but with youthful impetuosity, and too little consideration of the difficulties involved in it. All that his people had gained by the sacrifice of blood and treasure, was the development of a romantic spirit of war, and an acquaintance with some of the arts and refinements for which, at this time, Italy was distinguished; but Louis felt deeply how much Hungary had done to aid him in a cause which could not be said to concern her nationally, and it was his earnest endeavour to do all in his power to recompense her. By dint of his careful measures, she was, at the end of this expensive war, in every respect stronger, and more flourishing, than she had been before. (To be continued.) THE PILLARS OF THE HOUSE; OR, UNDER WODE, UNDER RODE. CHAPTER XIII. PEGASUS IN HARNESS. Fear not on that rugged high-way Life may want its lawful zest, THERE was much relief and comfort in that visit of Mr. Audley's. For one thing, Geraldine was able to pour out all her troubles, as she had been used to do ever since her father had left her in his chargeher repentance for the stirrings of her naturally fretful plaintive temper, for her fits of impatience and her hard judgements, and what surprised him chiefly, for jealousy. 'Yes,' she repeated, at his word of surprise, 'I am jealous!" 'Indeed!' 'I never knew it till the choral festival. I used to be very fond of her, but I'm sure it is jealousy; I don't like to see her more eagerly |