All this gives the Castel dell’Ovo a striking location in the sea, connected to the mainland by a causeway. Sadly it is mostly empty now and used for exhibitions, though it is open to the public and an atmospheric stroll on the battlements is a must on any visit to Naples. Under the Angevins it was in constant use as a lodging place for visiting dignitaries or a prison for important captives, and also served as their treasury.
The foundation of the Castel Nuovo had the effect of shifting the centre of gravity in the city from the eastern gate to the seafront, where it remains today. Although Naples retains its geometric arrangement of Greek streets and the Roman names for them, the decumani and the cardini, the Angevins would have a profound impact on the structure of the city. In addition to building the Castel Nuovo and many monasteries and churches, they also added rambling new quarters that made it more like other medieval European cities, and it had a population of about 60,000 in 1315. Naples became one of the cultural capitals of Italy, and its links with Florence meant that almost all of the important literary and artistic figures emerging from Florence spent time in Angevin Naples.
Resolving the ‘War of the Vespers’
First the Angevins had to recover their shattered position in Italy and have their king released from prison. One of the prime movers in this recovery, surprisingly, was that quondam Angevin, Edward I of England. This was despite Edward’s disgust at the outcome of Louis IX’s second Crusade, and perhaps the part Charles of Anjou played in that outcome. When he heard of Charles of Anjou’s death, Edward sent Charles II’s young sons a message of encouragement, and more pertinently he sent 800 ounces of gold to Charles II’s wife Marie, and envoys to visit Charles himself in his Aragonese prison.32
Italy was in such chaos following the Vespers that Provence became the de facto capital of the remaining Angevin state. The barons and bishops of Provence met to organize a response, and they wrote to Edward I begging him to intervene to obtain Charles II’s freedom. The reason that Edward, rather than the king of France, was consulted, was of course because Philip III was too busy invading Aragon on his disastrous Crusade and then dying, and the new king Philip IV was understandably somewhat disgusted with the entire business. Edward received another plea from Charles II’s three sons Louis, Robert and Ramon Berengar; they sent a heart-rending letter begging for his help, describing themselves as virtual orphans and begging the ‘great king’ to show pity. Most pathetic of all, they explained that the letter was sealed by the Archbishop of Aix because they had no seal of their own. Edward responded with a letter addressed to his ‘beloved cousins’, and it was largely due to his efforts that Charles II was eventually freed in 1289. Unfortunately for the boys, the agreement to release Charles depended on his three sons taking his place in prison in Aragon, where they remained for some years.33
Charles II’s captivity meant that the kingdom was technically ruled by the pope for four years after the death of Charles of Anjou. Martin IV initially refused as feudal overlord to accept that Charles of Anjou could leave the kingdom to Charles II, and although he accepted Charles of Anjou’s appointment of Robert of Artois as regent, he made it clear that this was on behalf of the pope, not the captive Charles II. There was a diplomatic logic to this beyond the pedantic point that the pope ultimately ruled the kingdom: by disinheriting Charles II the pope deprived him of the status that made him valuable as a captive, which might have hastened his release.
Martin IV died in March 1285, and although the new pope Honorius IV showed more flexibility than Martin, he was also adamant that Sicily could not be taken (again!) by conquest. This proved awkward for Charles II, who was continually negotiating from his prison and seemed open to the idea of surrendering Sicily to Aragon, only for the pope to forbid any notion of such an arrangement. Edward I then brokered a deal in which Charles would be exchanged for three of his younger sons, pay a huge fine and undertake to reach a final arrangement over Sicily that was acceptable to Aragon, the papacy and France within three years. If he failed to do so, Provence – which the Aragonese pointed out had been taken from them by the Angevins – would revert to Aragon. This deal was at first vetoed by Philip IV of France, who could not accept the loss of Provence; a telling indication that the king of France now viewed the Mediterranean coast as pertaining to France, not Aragon. However, on the provision of guarantees and money from Edward I, this agreement was finally accepted in October 1288 and Charles II was released on condition that he went to Paris to obtain Philip IV’s consent, and that he did not take the title King of Sicily, given that the island was ruled by the King of Aragon’s brother. There was one other positive event in 1288, which was that Charles Martel and Clementia of Habsburg had a son, Charles Robert, known as ‘Carobert’, the future king of Hungary.34
Unfortunately for Charles, the other parties to the agreement still proved inflexible. Philip IV arrested the Aragonese ambassadors who came to Paris with Charles, and refused to accept the terms. When Charles arrived in Italy, the pope promptly arranged his coronation as King of Sicily in violation of the agreement. This ceremony was performed at Rieti on 29 May 1289, and provides us with the complete order of service for the Angevin king’s coronation. The details of which cardinal stood where and which prayers and psalms were read is interesting in its own way, but not terribly revealing. What does stand out is the way the coronation ceremony reinforced the Angevin king’s complete dependence on and subservience to the pope. This was most strikingly represented after the ceremony when Charles led the pope on horseback back to his palace.35
To end the War of the Vespers, a flurry of marriage contracts was meant to draw France, Sicily and Aragon together. Dynastic marriages were the usual method of cementing treaties between states, especially when they’d been at war, but the attempt to impose harmony on the Capetians, Angevins and Aragonese through the force of marriage reminds me of couples who suddenly turn to marriage in an attempt to demonstrate commitment, only to reveal how far apart they really are and precipitate greater conflict. The obsessive intertwining of the three dynasties did reduce the amount of open warfare, but it also meant they would be trapped within a cycle of destruction for the next 200 years.
Worse, the ruling family of Aragon had split, with one branch on the throne of Aragon and another taking the title Kings of Majorca and variously claiming Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica. James I of Aragon had divided his inheritance between two sons, making Peter III king of Aragon and James II the king of Majorca. What would already have been complicated three-way negotiations were thus made worse by a fourth party that was further involved in a bitter family struggle.
Charles II married his son Robert Duke of Calabria to Yolanda of Aragon, and his daughter Blanche to James II of Aragon. Another marriage was much more significant, since on 18 August 1290 he married his daughter Margaret to Charles of Valois, with Anjou and Maine as her dowry to compensate the Valois for giving up their claim to Aragon from the disastrous Crusade of Philip III. The Angevin homeland was separated from Naples and would pass to yet another new branch of the family, as always with far-reaching ramifications. The Neapolitan Angevins did receive the French portion of Avignon in return, giving them full control of this important city, which in the 14th century was about to become even more significant.36
1290 was also the year of a remarkable coup for the Angevins: King Ladislas IV ‘the Cuman’ of Hungary died without heirs. His mother was a Cuman, the Turkish nomads who had played a significant role in eastern European politics and were also a source for the ‘Mamluk’ slave soldiers who ruled Egypt, and Ladislas was said to have abandoned his Angevin wife and lived a pagan life with a Cuman mistress. Through Ladislas’s sister Marie of Hungary, who was married to Charles II, a claim passed to their eldest son Charles Martel. This was not straightforward, since the Hungarians had crowned one of Ladislas’s other relatives, Andrew III ‘the Venetian’, as their king, though the pope supported the Angevin claim. When Charles Martel died in 1295 his claim passed t
o his young son Carobert, who would be crowned several times in a variety of locations, but was finally recognized as King of Hungary in 1310.37
One of the keys to the Angevin resurgence was the multitude of Charles II and Marie’s offspring. The later Neapolitan Angevins would be plagued by the failure to produce children who lived to maturity, perhaps not surprisingly given their near Habsburgian penchant for marrying their cousins, but Charles II and Marie of Hungary had at least thirteen children. The sons, about whom we know more, included Charles Martel who died in 1295 as titular king of Hungary; Louis of Toulouse who died in 1297 as an acknowledged saint and was canonized in 1317; Robert the Wise who succeeded as king of Naples in 1309; Ramon Berengar who died in 1305; Philip of Taranto who became titular Emperor of Constantinople, Prince of Achaea and Prince of Taranto; and John of Gravina and Durazzo, whose children intermarried with Robert’s descendants and later produced two kings and the last queen of Naples.38
The Fall of Acre and Plans for a New Crusade
On top of the turmoil of the War of the Vespers, King Henry of Cyprus appeared in Acre in June 1286 to pursue his claim as King of Jerusalem. The city went over to him willingly and the Angevins were expelled, although Charles II technically retained the title of king and continued to use it. This accomplished little since the Mamluks took Acre and completed the destruction of the Crusader States in 1291, though the empty title King of Jerusalem continued to exist and was held by the Angevins for most of the next 200 years.
As titular King of Jerusalem, Charles II attempted to rally a response, and although he failed utterly to produce an effect in the Holy Land, he set in motion a chain of events that gained Corfu, Albania and the duchy of Athens for the Angevins, along with confirmation of the title of Prince of Achaea. Charles I’s dream of taking over the Byzantine Empire for his descendants may have failed, but Charles II ruled or influenced a considerable portion of Greece. Although he is completely overshadowed by his father in historical terms, it is worth noting that Charles II was almost as ambitious as Charles of Anjou and established a more durable legacy.
Charles II also had his part to play in the Crusading movement, though he did not participate in overseas Crusades like his father. In addition to leading the pope’s Crusades against their mutual Christian enemies, Charles II took his obligations in the Holy Land seriously. When Pope Nicholas IV requested guidance on how to respond to the loss of Acre, Charles prepared a detailed proposal, known as the Conseil du Roi Charles II, on how to recapture the Holy Land through a general Crusade. Although Charles drew on ideas put forward in previous tracts by Fidenzio of Padua and Ramon Lull, his ideas were far in advance of any yet advanced by a potential commander.
In line with the Crusade of Louis IX, Charles recommended that a combined fleet and army, supported by alms and tithes from all of Christendom, should be sent against Egypt. As had been noted by others, Charles thought the expedition would fail unless there were an economic boycott that would weaken the Mamluks. Also in line with previous discussions going back to the Council of Lyons in 1274, and which had involved Charles of Anjou, Charles II recommended that the Templars and Hospitallers be united. For many years they had been a divisive influence in the Crusader States because of their squabbling and fierce independence, which meant they refused to serve the commanders of Crusading armies. Charles also went beyond previous plans by suggesting that the newly combined orders be led by a prince of royal blood who would become King of Jerusalem. He further had in mind a concept of the Crusading force as a unified army, even detailing the uniform they would wear. Finally, Charles understood that this would be an ongoing commitment, and recommended that once recaptured, the new state would need to be defended by a permanent army of 2,000 knights and settled by colonists from the Italian maritime republics.39
Nothing came of Charles’s plans, but this idea that the Crusade could only succeed if it were well organized by a prince who would unite the military orders and found a new kingdom was compelling. Although there is no direct evidence of influence, it is striking that these same ideas were taken up by the essayist Pierre Dubois in his Recovery of the Holy Land. This was the most comprehensively thought-through explication of such a project, and in it Pierre also stated that the King of Sicily would be willing to give up his title as King of Jerusalem to the leader of the new army, which implies familiarity with Charles’s treatise.40
Pope Celestine V: ‘il gran refutto’
The close Angevin ties to the papacy meant Charles II was bound up in the events of the brief pontificate of Celestine V. As an antidote to the line of overtly political popes of the 13th century and after a two-and-a-half-year interregnum, the cardinals decided that the notable holy man Pietro Morrone should be elected pope in July 1294. Charles knew Pietro and had visited him earlier that year, and Charles Martel was with the group who went to Pietro’s hermitage at Mount Maiella to inform him that he was pope. Pietro announced that he was too old and infirm to go far for his consecration, so he went to the Castel Nuovo in Naples and arrived in November.
Pietro’s life as a hermit may have given him the aura of sanctity, but he seems to have been completely unprepared for the job of pope. He did manage to create twelve cardinals, including five from France, and assigned tithes in France and England to Charles to carry on the war against Aragon. By December, however, Celestine was persuaded to renounce the papacy, according to one legend when the cardinal Benedetto Gaetani pretended to be God and whispered down the chimney to Celestine that he must resign. Resign he did, the first pope ever to do so (though not the last, as we have seen so recently). This abdication was termed il gran refutto by Dante, when he consigned Celestine to hell for failing in his duty. The cunning Benedetto Gaetani was then elected pope as Boniface VIII, and although he did rescind most of Celestine’s acts, he permitted the twelve new cardinals to remain.
Upon his abdication Celestine hoped to return to life as a hermit, but Boniface VIII could never allow a former pope to remain free. Celestine was first put under guard, but after escaping for a few months he was confined to the tower of Castel Fumone, and died on 19 May 1296. Naturally his followers believed that he had been ill-treated or even murdered, and the Colonna family were quick to revive these rumours a few years later when they came into conflict with Boniface VIII. These allegations came into the hands of Philip IV of France, who used them aggressively against Boniface in his own conflict with him, and Philip continued to blacken Boniface’s name even after his death in 1303. Philip then pressed Boniface’s successor Clement V for Celestine’s canonization as a further way to demean Boniface. Clement V agreed in hope of reconciling with the French king, but he carefully stressed that the investigation was an inquiry into the miracles of Pietro Morrone as a holy man, not Celestine V as pope. St Pietro Morrone was duly canonized in 1313, and the fact that he was canonized by Boniface’s successor at the instigation of Boniface’s mortal enemy Philip IV was lost on no one.41
This canonization showed that not everyone saw Celestine in the same terms as Dante. Charles II founded a religious house at Aversa dedicated to him, and the Angevin knight Giovanni Pippino da Barletta commissioned the church of San Pietro ‘Maiella’ (named after Pietro’s hermitage on Mt Maiella) in Naples in his honour. San Pietro Maiella is considered a significant example of Angevin architecture in Naples and gives its name to a music conservatory, though I suspect most passersby – including me! – aren’t aware of the connection to Celestine/Pietro Morrone until they enter the church and read about its history.
Carobert’s Accession in Hungary
It took more than ten years for Charles II and his sons fully to escape the consequences of his capture by Roger of Lauria in 1284. The proximate cause of the princes’ release was the death of Charles Martel on 5 August 1295, and the three princes were released soon after. Naples was now faced with a similar succession question to that of England after the death of Richard the Lionheart 100 years before: should Charles II’s heir be
Charles Martel’s son Carobert (son of the elder brother) or one of Charles II’s younger sons? Although Charles II would live until 1309, the Angevins resolved the issue quickly, and in the same way it had been in England. Charles II acknowledged Robert as his heir on 13 February 1296, which must have seemed more palatable at the time since the child Carobert was now titular king of Hungary. Yet even though Boniface VIII quickly approved the decision on 27 February and excluded Carobert from the throne of Naples, Robert would be plagued by questions over the legitimacy of his rule from the remarkably successful Hungarian branch of the family founded by Carobert.
The initial circumstances of Carobert’s claim to Hungary were not auspicious. Andrew III ‘the Venetian’ had taken the throne in 1290, but faced significant resistance to his rule. In particular, the lords of Croatia and Dalmatia, neighbours of the Angevins across the Adriatic, came out in favour of Charles Martel, and after his death transferred their support to Carobert. Andrew struggled to impose his authority, particularly in the south.
In August 1300, the twelve-year-old Carobert, like another Henry II, went to Dalmatia to take up the struggle personally. He was conducted across the Adriatic by Juraj Šubić, scion of perhaps the most important family in Croatia, the counts of Bribir. They controlled Split and many other important cities along the coast, also extending their power inland to control an essentially independent principality in Croatia and Bosnia. Charles II had recognized Pavao Šubić (brother of Juraj) as ban of Croatia in 1292, a not particularly valuable grant when we consider that Charles II had no authority over Croatia, but given that the Šubićs were powerful enough to dominate the area themselves there was no harm in obtaining recognition of their power from the king of Naples. This arrangement was much more beneficial to the Angevins, since throughout the 1290s the Šubićs had consistently recognized first Charles Martel, then Carobert, as the rightful kings of Hungary in opposition to Andrew III. When Carobert and Juraj arrived in Split, they were received by Pavao Šubić, who then conducted the young king to Zagreb. This solid support from the Šubićs was the critical local basis of Carobert’s bid for the throne. He then also had an incredible stroke of luck, since Andrew III died on 14 January 1301 leaving no children.42
Angevin Dynasties of Europe 900-1500 Page 34