Noble Blood - The Trials of Joanna of Naples

Episode Date: February 7, 2023

Joanna of Naples is one of the most infamous figures of the 14th century, a woman who ruled in her own right who faced treachery and betrayal by her own family and nearly everyone around her but still managed to persevere. Support Noble Blood: — Bonus episodes, stickers, and scripts on Patreon — Merch! — Order Dana's book, 'Anatomy: A Love Story' and pre-order its sequel 'Immortality: A Love Story' See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Vodam. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot.

But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, The cat, just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and grim and mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion advised. Once upon a time in the Kingdom of Naples, there lived a king named

Robert the Wise. Whether or not he was particularly wise, is contested, but he did know Latin had a large library and served as a patron for a number of scholars, which counted for a lot in the 14th century. As the third son of King Charles of Naples, Robert had not been destined for the throne, but a strange series of events had catapulted him into power. In 1295, when Robert was 19, his oldest brother, Charles, Martel, the heir apparent, died. Rightfully, Charles Martel's place in line should have been passed to his own son, Caroberts. However, King Charles decided that young Carobert, at only seven years old, was too young for the job, especially the military duties, which included things like

reconquering Sicily. The king's second son, Louis, might have been next, except Louis had become extremely religious, and wouldn't even wear fancy clothes, let alone take any part in royal life. So King Charles settled on his third son, Robert. The young Carabert's presence made Roberts' position as heir awkward. So King Charles decided to send the young boy off to rule another one of his territories, Hungary. That might seem like a promotion for the seven-year-old? I know it's confusing, but at this point, point, the Kingdom of Naples included not just the city of Naples, but also much of southern

Italy as well as parts of present day, France, Albania, Greece, and Hungary. King of just Hungary was a downgrade. So with Carobert in Hungary, it seemed like Robert's succession was assured. It was certainly unorthodox for a third-born son to become heir to the throne, but even the Pope gave his approval to King Charles' plan, so everything was settled. Of course, as you can guess, everything was not really settled. And while a contested succession isn't an unusual occurrence in the Royal Annals, what happened in Naples nearly half a century after Robert became heir, was shocking, mainly because of this episode's real protagonist, Robert's grander. Robert's grand, daughter, a glamorous, beautiful, intelligent, and relentless queen named Joanna, and what she stood

accused of, murder. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is noble blood. Joanna, future queen of Naples, was born in 1326. She was the eldest daughter of the crown prince, but she would barely know her parents. Her dad died when she was two and her mom when she was five. So Joanna and her younger sister, Maria, would be raised by their grandfather, King Robert the Wise, the thirdborn who rose to power, and his second wife, Sancha. Robert and Sancha were a study in contrasts. Robert delighted in earthly pleasures. He collected books, commissioned works from musicians and playwrights,

hosted elaborate banquets, and spoiled his. his court with all the luxuries money could buy. Sonsha, on the other hand, was so devout that she had actually petitioned the Pope to let her live as a nun after her marriage to Robert. The Pope denied her, but Sancho didn't let that get in the way of her religious aspirations. She lived simply and piously and refused to let Robert enter her bedchamber. This was a problem because Robert had only ever had two sons by his first wife. One of the sons had died very young. His surviving son, Joanna's father, died in 1328. And when that happened, Robert had no living legitimate male heirs. But he did have Joanna. Robert officially designated Joanna as his heir in 1330 when she was only

four years old. This decision did not sit well with other members of the royal family, including Robert's younger brothers, Philip of Taranto and John of Durazo, both of whom thought they were more deserving of the title. The decision was also questioned by political and religious leaders throughout Europe on the basis of Joanna's sex. Robert and Joanna were part of the Capitian House of Anjou, a cadet branch of the Cepetian Dian. dynasty that ruled France. In France, the royal family had recently declared that women could not succeed to the throne. You can hear more about that in our episode, The Bewitched Events at the Tour D'Odinelle. All that is to say, a female heir was certainly unusual. Despite Joanna's unique

status, though, her childhood was fairly typical, typical for an extraordinarily wealthy princess, of course. Joanna shared rooms in the Castel Nuevo with her younger sister, Maria, and their enormous retinue of household staff, including 24 ladies-in-waiting, kitchen staff, and a valet specifically tasked with getting quinces for Joanna's favorite jam. The girl's grandmother, Queen Sancho, made sure that they attended Mass every morning, while King Robert exposed them to the greatest artists and performers of the day at banquet every night. In between the two girls rode, hunted, strolled the palace gardens, and sailed to nearby beaches for picnics. One other thing, besides her succession status, set Joanna apart from the other young girls at the palace.

She was married. On September 27, 1333, when Joanna was, seven years old, she had married six-year-old Andrew of Hungary, her first cousin once removed. Andrew was the son of Carrobert, remember him, the young boy who King Charles had shipped off to Hungary 40 years earlier to make way for Robert's succession. Carobert had thrived in Hungary, winning acclaim for his military prowess and accumulating vast wealth. Thanks to the discovery of gold in Slovakia in the 1320s. As the historian Nancy Goldstone notes, quote, having been deprived of his birthright

because it was feared he could not take Sicily, Caroburt controlled an area approximately three times the size of the Kingdom of Naples by the 1330s. I say good for him. Carrobert, though, never forgot the injustice done to him by the Neapolitan royal family

and his desire to regain his birthright only grew with time. As Hungary grew in both size and power, people started to take more notice of Carobert's fairly legitimate claim to the Neapolitan throne. One of those people taking notice was Pope John the 22nd.

Although a previous pope had supported King Charles' succession plan to put Robert the Wise on the throne, Pope John was not convinced. On December 15th, 1330, two weeks after Joanna had officially been announced as King Robert's successor, the Pope wrote to Queen Sonsha,

suggesting a path to reconciliation. What if, the Pope wrote, Joanna were married to one of Carobart's sons, and then their children descended from the Neopolitan Royal family on both sides could inherit the throne. It was a neat, albeit somewhat incestuous solution. The Neapolitans were skeptical. Robert's younger brothers, Philip and John, wanted Joanna to marry one of their sons, and Robert wasn't interested in diluting Joanna's power. But it's hard to argue with a pope, and when John issued a decree in June 1332 that Joanna and her

younger sister Maria were to marry the sons of the King of Hungary, there was no turning back. Carabert and Robert negotiated the terms of the marriage, but they left one important term vague, whether or not Joanna's husband would be King of Naples in his own right, or only Joanna's consort, without any real power. A year later in September 1333, King Carabert arrived in Naples alongside his second son, Andrew. Although Carabert had been born and raised in Naples, he had spent decades in Hungary, which was, in those days, a sparsely populated, largely rural, and heavily forested kingdom. Naples, on the other hand, was one of only four cities in Europe at the time to boast more than 100,000 citizens. Traders from all over the world brought spices, fabrics, and rare materials to the

Naples marketplaces. The streets buzzed with activity. It must have been a shocking sight for all of the Hungarians, especially young Prince Andrew. After a week of festivities, Andrew and Joanna were married at the Castel Nuevo. Since both bride and groom were no older than seven, they would not live together for some years, but it was decided that Andrew would stay in Naples so that he could become accustomed to his new home and way of life. It was not an easy transition for the young Prince Andrew. He didn't speak the two most common languages of the court, Italian and provincial. He also faced ethnic prejudice.

Though Andrew was literally the great nephew of their current king, many Neapolitans saw him as inherently foreign. They called Andrew a barbarian. Nonetheless, like Joanna, Andrew was raised in luxury, with a full set of apartment in the castle and a large staff of his own. He didn't interact with his wife much growing up, although they occasionally played marbles together. Sweet. Despite the strangeness of the arrangement, it seems to have been a pleasant childhood for both Joanna and Andrew, with days spent among splendor and the luxury of court. But the golden age would not last, because in 1343, King Robert the Wise died, which meant Joanna was queen.

And then all hell broke loose. Hell had actually started plotting its escape a year earlier in 1342. In July of that year, Carobert died in Hungary, and his eldest son, Louis, only 16, became. King of Hungary. Per the papal bull of 1332, which had decreed the marriage of Andrew and Joanna, Louis was supposed to marry Maria, Joanna's younger sister. But that wedding had never taken place, and now that Louis was king, his mother, Elizabeth of Poland, wanted a more prestigious and strategic match for her son. That fall, Louis wed Margaret of Bohemia. Robert was furious, seeing the wedding as a betrayal, and he wanted to punish the Hungarians.

He rewrote his will, making it clear that Joanna was his sole inheritor, and explicitly excluding Andrew from any formal power. To ensure that Joanna's power would not be challenged on account of her youth, Robert declared that a council of advisors, led by Sancho, would rule for her until she reached the age of 25. It was a provocative document, one that resolved the question of Andrew's unofficial role in a way that decidedly favored Joanna. And then, only four days after dictating his new will,

Robert died. He left Joanna with a little bit of a mess on her hands. First, there was the matter of her marriage. Though Joanna would be a little bit of her marriage, though Joanna would, by this point 17, older than many medieval royal brides, her marriage had yet to be consummated, due to, some scholars believe, Andrew's emotional immaturity. That would be the final step in formalizing her marriage, and Robert had made it clear that the couple could no longer wait. Just two days after the king's death, Andrew was knighted, which signified his transition into manhood. He was then,

immediately taken to Joanna's bedchamber, where they consummated the marriage once and for all. Though this act would solidify the marriage in the eyes of the public, it likely didn't do much to satisfy the Hungarians once they learned the terms of Robert's will. Besides the issue of her husband and her, soon to be very unhappy in-laws, Joanna also faced a Naples in decline. Robert, wise as he was, possibly, had also accrued massive debts while trying to retake Sicily, and the taxes that he had levied left many citizens of all classes in dire straits. Gangs of noblemen roved the countryside, fighting one another and sparking decades-long feuds,

while crime rates in the cities were exploding. Even inside the walls of the Castel Nuevo, trouble was brewing. Two of Joanna's aunts, Agnes of Jarazo and Catherine of Toronto, were engaged in a power struggle, which culminated in the scandalously executed marriage of Joanna's younger sister, Maria, to Agnes' son, Charles, which nearly led to outright war between the two families. Joanna barely had a moment to breathe, between the domestic and international troubles she faced in her first year as queen. She faced scrutiny from her subjects, from the Hungarians, and from now Pope Clement, who in trying to appease both the Neapolitans and the Hungarians succeeded only in frustrating everyone. Joanna even faced the indignity of being

temporarily replaced by a papal legate, a representative of the Pope who assumed control of the government for several months in 1344, who, unsurprisingly, just made everything worse. As part of her lobbying to get Pope Clement to remove the legate, Joanna tried to reconcile with her husband, Andrew. By this point, the couple were on bad terms. Andrew was openly belittled by Joanna's courtiers, and in response, he tried to assert his power in increasingly ridiculous ways, like releasing controversial convicts from prison and raising military forces to threaten his enemies. However, the reconciliation seemed to work, at least enough that by April 1345, Joanna was pregnant. Like most royal pregnancies, Joanna's had enormous political implications.

The original terms of the deal between Carabert and Robert had stated that, Joanna and Andrew's child would inherit Naples. So hopefully the birth of such a child would calm down the Hungarians, now that their bloodline would be firmly established in the ruling family. The pregnancy also cemented Joanna's queenly status in the eyes of the Neapolitans because it proved that she could provide heirs and maintain the royal line. However, the queen's pregnancy alone could not quell the power struggles of the court, especially after the Dowager Queen Sonsha died in July 1345.

Sancho had led the Regency Council that had guided Joanna through the first years of her reign. The council had already been weakened by the papal legate, and upon Sonsha's death, it was dissolved completely. At 19, Joanna was now the sole ruler of Naples. As her political life, she was a got even more complicated, so too did her personal life. Around this time, despite her quasi-reconciliation with Andrew, rumors began to swirl that Joanna was having affairs. The allegations focused on two men, Robert de Cabani, a member of her government and a longtime friend, and Louis of Toronto, her first cousin. Louis was, for lack of a better phrase, a notorious haughty, He had silky blonde hair, a graceful athletic build, and golden skin.

He was matched in beauty only by Joanna herself, who was cut from the same genetic cloth, and whose good looks were remarked upon by numerous observers. The two were drawn to each other, two golden birds of a feather, and as the distance between Joanna and her husband Andrew once again grew after Sancha's death, the closeness between Joanna and her cousin Louis increased. Aware of the growing troubles in Naples, Pope Clement wrote to Joanna that she and Andrew ought to be coronated together, not to give Andrew any real power,

but as a symbolic gesture of unity. Joanna was not pleased at the suggestion. She feared that a coronation would inevitably give Andrew some sort of power, and would also position him to seize the throne should she die in childbirth. Throughout 1344 and 1345, she had debated with Pope Clement over the roles she and Andrew should play, though Clement had once written to Joanna that she was the rightful inheritor of the kingdom, quote, just as if she were a man, end quote, he reminded her in a late, letter that, quote,

the husband is the head of the wife, end quote, and that Andrew's involvement could only serve both Naples and Joanna herself. As the historian Elizabeth Kestine notes, Joanna would later turn this argument

on its head, telling Pope Clement that it was she who could promote Andrew's best interests, not the other way around, revealing, as Kastine says, quote, an interesting inversion in Joanna's understanding of gender roles within her marriage, unquote. Throughout the early fall of 1345, Pope Clement remained staunch in his position

that both Andrew and Joanna should be crowned together. But in September, his papal legate, Andrew Amrik, returned to Avignon. While in Naples, Amrik, had witnessed Andrew's emotional and political immaturity, and he made it clear to Pope Clement that putting Andrew in power would be a disaster. So on September 20th and 21st, the Pope wrote letters to both Joanna and Andrew, chastising Andrew for his bad behavior, and making it clear that Andrew would only be coronated if he swore not to interfere in government affairs. But before those letters could reach nation, Before those letters were even written, in fact, a shocking event changed the royal dynamic between the couple forever. That September, the court was at Aversa, a castle surrounded by lush gardens and a large forest, perfect for hunting.

At Aversa, Joanna and Andrew shared an apartment, but they had separate bedrooms, and on the evening of September 18th, the royal couple each retired to their respective rooms. Sometime after he got to his room, after he began to undress, Andrew was summoned by his chamberlain, Tomaso Mambriccio, who said that there were important papers that Andrew needed to see. Exiting his bedroom for the outer chamber, Andrew was suddenly set upon by a group of men who viciously beat. him. Official reports of the crime reveal the brutality of the attack. Clumps of Andrew's hair were

missing, his genitals were mutilated, and iron gauntlet, the gloves worn by soldiers, had been pressed so firmly over his mouth that their outlines could be seen in bruises. The men wrapped a cord around Andrew's neck and dangled him from the window, strangling him. As he, he was a cord. As he he slowly died, his assailants saw a light coming down the corridor. This was Isabel, Andrew's nurse from childhood, who had come looking for him. Panicked, the men through the now dead, Andrew, into the garden and fled. Isabel, arriving only minutes later, looked out of the window, saw the body of the young man she had known since childhood, and she screamed. Andrew, was only 17 years old.

As news of the murder spread, people began to speculate on who the guilty party might be. Andrew's actions had left him with no shortage of enemies, but one name stood out. Joanna. Sensing an opportunity, Joanna's cousin, Charles of Durazo, decided to do an investigation of his own.

He declared that the crime had been committed by a group of nobles, which included a woman named Philippa of Katania, who was Joanna's childhood nurse turned political advisor, and that she was acting along with two of her grandchildren. Many of the accused were subjected to torture much of it in public until they confessed, after which they were imprisoned or executed. For the most part, the investigation brought closure. to the Neapolitans who had suspected the queen, because they now had new people who pin their blame to. But others thought that the investigation was a little dubious. Many of those who were convicted were, conveniently enough, political rivals of Charles of Durazo. Another suspicious piece of gossip, Tomaso Mambrichio, Andrews Chamberlain, was implicated in the plot, and the rumor was that before his execution, he had his tongue cut out so that he couldn't reveal his true co-conspirators.

As all of this was occurring, Joanna was holed up in a fortress, safe from the crowd who called her the whore queen. She was also very, very pregnant. On December 25, 1345, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who she named Charles Martel in a clever political move to appease the Hungarians. Charles Martel, remember, was Robert's older brother, the father of Carobert

and grandfather of Andrew, whose untimely death had sparked the whole succession drama in the prologue of this episode. Joanna sent diplomats to Hungary tasked with revealing the birth of the baby and his symbolic name. She also sent them with another mission.

Now that she had given birth to this child, she felt that she had fulfilled the terms of the 1333 deal, struck by Carabert and her grandfather, Robert. She had united the Neapolitan and Hungarian lines in the form of a healthy male baby who could inherit the kingdom. Since she had done so, she argued, she should be released from the terms of the treaty and allowed to remarry.

after all her husband was dead. This wasn't a frivolous request on her part. Joanna was deeply vulnerable in this moment, and, as a young female royal, marriage was the fastest way to secure her position. But the Hungarians were outraged. How dare this woman, they spat, wished to marry again so quickly after the death of her husband, a death which, they believed she was probably responsible for her. King Louis wrote to Pope Clement, calling Joanna, quote, husband-killer and widow of my brother, end quote,

and suggesting that Pope Clement hand control of Naples over to him, Louis, until young baby Charles Martel came of age. Interestingly, the Hungarians had never publicly accused Joanna of Andrew's murder until the moment she proposed to remarry. At the same time Joanna faced this renewed assault from the Hungarians, she was also dealing with one of her cousins, Robert of Toronto, who declared his intention to marry her and forcibly occupied the castle in a bizarre half-coup half-marriage proposal.

Robert's brother, Louis of Toronto, Joanna's alleged lover, you remember her cousin lover? Allegedly, took up arms against his brother, As the war of these brothers ravaged the country, the Hungarians ramped up their threats, writing to the Pope that they saw the delay of justice as acceptable grounds for an invasion. Pope Clement knew that action had to be taken, publicly and dramatically, to reassure the Hungarians. He let it be known to his envoys in Naples that justice needed to be done, the bloodier, the better. And so, on December 29th, Philippa of Catania, the woman who had been, like a mother to Joanna and Philippa's granddaughter, were paraded through the streets of Naples, naked and then tortured to death.

It must have been a deeply retching day for Joanna. Worst of all, their deaths were for nothing. They did not appease the Hungarians, because on March 27th, Louis of Hungary, declared, war on Naples. Joanna had prepared for this moment. She had spent much of early 1347 working on uniting her kingdom. She had successfully maneuvered Robert of Taranto out of the castle and helped arrange an advantageous marriage for him off in Greece.

And she had convinced Charles of Jarazo to back the Neapolitans by arranging for a betrothal between her son, Charles Martel, and one of Charles. of Jarazo's daughters. And then, knowing that she needed another military leader and aware that it no longer mattered whether or not the Hungarians or even the Pope approved, she married, Louis of Taranto, the cousin that she had allegedly been in love with the entire time. Finally, Joanna had brought together three of the leading military men of her kingdom and yoked them to her cause. The next few months were spent rallying an army and preparing for war. The generals decided that the best place to make a stand was in Capua,

20 miles outside of Naples, and set out in December to establish their defenses. Joanna, now pregnant again with Louis' child, stayed in Naples. Unfortunately, Robert of Tarento and Charles of Jarazo had been better enemies of the state than allies to it. As news of multiple Hungarian victories, the men, they decided to turn traitor, and they abandoned Louis, taking many of their troops with them. Upon hearing of her cousin's betrayal, Joanna knew that all hope was lost. The only chance she had of saving her life was to flee. The decision to run to Provence, a territory under her control, was an easy one. The decision to leave behind her infant son, Charles Martel, was not

But the boy was barely two years old, and the trip was going to be arduous. She knew King Louis, her husband, wouldn't hurt Charles Martel, who was his stepson and also nephew, and the Hungarians best shot at the throne. Her mind was made up. Joanna gathered a small group of trusted advisors, took as much from the royal treasury as she could, and snuck out of Naples on January 15th. 1348. Shortly after, Louis of Toronto made his own escape. Hearing of Joanna's flight, he knew that he could not stay, and he decided to go to Florence to request military aid. On January 28th,

King Louis of Hungary took Naples. He took Charles Martel, the toddler prince, into his custody, and declared that he was to be sent to Hungary for safekeeping. As Joanna had predicted, the rough travel conditions of winter were too hard on a young boy. He died shortly after his arrival in Hungary. Ignorant of that, Joanna was hard at work in Provence. She wanted to raise funds and an army to reclaim Naples from Louis. Getting the support she needed, Joanna knew, required rehabilitating her reputation. The best and most effective way to do this would be a judgment of innocence.

by the Pope. As she lobbied the Pope for an audience, Joanna was strengthened by the arrival of her husband. He had been rebuffed in Florence, and so Louis of Toronto had decided to seek aid from the Pope as well, and so he traveled to France. For much of February 1348, the couple and their advisors beseeched Clement to meet with them, but the Pope resisted. As an aside, you might be wondering what the Pope was doing in France, in Avignon instead of Rome. For much of the 14th century, in fact, the popes resided in Avignon. Why they did so is a very long, complicated tale involving politics, popes, anti-popes. It's fascinating, but it isn't particularly relevant to Joanna's story, and this episode is long enough. So, back to Joanna. Surprisingly, it was the Hungarians who

finally convinced Clement, in Avignon, to meet with Joanna, although they didn't intend that. In early March, Joanna's younger sister, Maria, came to France and brought with her a shocking story. In January, Maria said, King Louis had welcomed her husband, Charles of Durazo, who had recently pledged allegiance to the Hungarians, to a banquet. But instead of being thanked for his support, Charles had been arrested and summarily executed by King Louis of Hungary, who accused him of being involved in Andrew's murder. Pope Clement was appalled by this news and decided that the Hungarian had gone too far. Soon Joanna received a summons. She was to appear at the papal court in Avignon and plead her case. On the 15th of March, 1348, Queen Joanna of Naples and her husband

Louis of Toronto, rode into Avignon. Despite the literal war she had just escaped, this might have been the most dangerous moment of Joanna's life, because Avignon, like ports all across southern Europe, was in the grips of a mysterious and devastating illness, which would soon come to be known as the Black Death. The plague had hit Avignon hard, and the city would eventually lose half its population to the disease.

Bodies filled the streets and the rivers. The sick and dying moaned from their beds and chaos reigned. Into this hellscape came Joanna and Louis, infamous for their alleged crimes and resplendent as they arrived in their royal regalia. Hundreds of townsfolk crowded the roads for a glimpse of the glamorous couple, whose shimmering robes and golden locks must have practically glowed in the death-stricken streets. Soon Joanna and Louis arrived at the papal palace. Joanna was offered refreshments and then escorted to the Great Hall. At the opposite end of the long hall sat Pope Clement, wearing a crown and white robes presiding over the room from his throne.

On either side of the narrow aisle that led from the entrance to the Pope's throne stood hundreds of spectators, representing the governments of dozens of European kingdoms. As Joanna walked down the aisle, her long mantle held up by two aides, all eyes were following her. When she reached the Pope, she knelt and kissed his slipper. The Pope bade her to stand, kissed her on the mouth, and told her, told her to sit on the throne beside him. Then the charges were read. As Joanna and the Pope, along with a council of cardinals, sat listening, a delegation sent by King Louis of Hungary, presented their case against the queen. Once they had finished, it was Joanna's turn to give a

defense. Instead of relying on spokesmen, Joanna spoke on her own behalf, using the Latin she had learned at the knee of her famous grandfather. We have no record of what she said, unfortunately. Pope Clement kept the meeting out of official church annals so that he could have plausible deniability with the Hungarians, but whatever she said seems to have worked. After conferring, Pope Clement and the Cardinals declared that Joanna was completely innocent of all charges against her.

Whether this decision was entirely impartial is impossible to know, and the fact that the Pope soon brokered a sweetheart deal with Joanna, in which she pawned him the city of Avignon for a relatively small sum, hadn't helped the Queen's cause. Modern historians remain ambivalent about Joanna's involvement in her first husband Andrew's death. although they do point out that his death did more to hurt her than help her, an outcome which would have been clear to this queen who, throughout the subsequent decades she held power, proved that she was a strategic thinker. After Joanna's appearance in Avignon, the tide began to turn in her favor. Pope Clement denied King Louis of Hungary's request to be crowned King of Naples,

a desire which, by this point, the Hungarians had begun to have second thoughts about anyways, given the trouble the king was having in winning over the Neapolitan nobility, not to mention the challenges faced by the arrival of the plague. In late May, Louis of Hungary left Naples. Joanna and her husband quickly began planning for their return, funding their efforts through the aforementioned pawning of Avignon to the Papiastas. In August 1348, Joanna and Louis arrived in Naples along with their newborn daughter, and they began beating back the Hungarian forces. Unfortunately, it would not be completely smooth sailing for the embattled queen.

As she fought off the Hungarians, she faced a new enemy inside her home. Her husband, Louis of Toronto, who, upon their return to Naples, became unlawful. physically abusive, domineering, and power-hungry. He had forced Joanna to make him king. He had taken complete control of the military, and he kept her all but imprisoned in their home. The Hungarians finally retreated from Naples in 1352 on the condition that Joanna be retried for Andrew's murder. Once again she was acquitted, but she would not be free of her second husband, Louis of Toronto for another 10 years. On May 25, 1362, the man who had once been Joanna's military savior and then became her abuser died after catching a cold in the bath. He had been

pre-deceased by the couple's daughters, none of whom lived to adulthood. Seven months later, Joanna wed James IV of Miorka, but this marriage was not a happy either. James had some problems, to put it lightly. He had spent 14 years imprisoned in an iron cage by his uncle, and, unshockingly, had never mentally recovered from the ordeal. Incidentally, sometimes when I talk about this podcast, people ask me if I'm ever worried that I'll run out of interesting noble stories, and the answer, honestly, is no. But back to Joanna, after her third husband, James's death in 1375, Joanna married again, Otto of Brunswick. This marriage, fortunately, seems to have been a good one. After Louis of Taranto's death, back in 1362,

Joanna had become, once again, the sole ruler of Naples, and it was a position that she would hold for the rest of her life. The Archbishop of Naples, writing to the Pope shortly after Louis' death, wrote of Joanna, quote, the Queen delights in governing. She wants to do everything because she has waited for so long for this moment, end quote. Despite her joy, though ruling would not be easy. Joanna was nearly always involved in one war or another, either as the aggressor or the defender. She had to navigate constant political turmoil inside her own country, and she ran into the wrath of the church when she chose to support one pope over another in the midst of the Western Shism of 1378. It was the latter event that would lead to her downfall. Because Joanna had

no surviving children, she decided to designate Charles of D'Razzo. These names are incredibly confusing. No, not her cousin who had once been married to her sister and then executed by the King of Hungary for his betrayal, but his son-in-law as her heir. Unfortunately, this Charles disagreed with Joanna's choice to support Pope Clement. No, not that Pope Clement who had judged her trial, but a later Pope Clement, over Pope Urban in the Western schism, and he began to scheme against her. In November 1380, this new Charles of Durazzo invaded Naples, leading an army comprised of Joanna's old enemies, the Hungarians. In July, his forces reached the Castel Nuevo, and after more than a month under siege, Joanna was forced to surrender.

She spent nearly a year in captivity before dying on July 27, 1382. The queen was 56 years old. Charles claimed she died of natural causes, but nearly every other source says that she was murdered, strangled by a cord or smothered by pillows. It was a violent end to a difficult life, a life marked by tragedy, warfare, and betrayal, but above all, by resiliency.

That hasn't stopped observers, past and from, present, from calling Joanna a murderer, an adulteress, a pawn, and a sinner. But I'll leave you with this description of her from the famous writer Giovanni Baccio, who wrote of Joanna in the year of Louis of Toronto's death, the year that she reclaimed her full power, quote, if we examine her domain closely, our amazement will equal its fame. For it is a mighty realm of the sort not usually ruled by women. Yet far more admirable is the fact that Joanna's spirit is equal to its governance. So well has she preserved the luminous character of her ancestors. That's the story of Joanna of Naples, but keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear

a little bit more about her. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Wode. My next guest, you know from Stepbrothers Anchorman, Saturday Night Live and the Big Money Players Network. It's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. I went and had lunch with them one day, and I was like, and Dad, I think I want to really give this a shot.

I don't know what that means, but I just know the groundlings. I'm working my way up through, and I know it's a place they come, look for up-and-coming talent. He said, if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you, which is really sweet. Yeah. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. and he's like, just give it a shot.

He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks, Dad, on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Wodom. My next guest, you know from Step Brothers Anchorman, Saturday Night Live, and the Big Money Players Network. It's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. I went and had lunch with them one day, and I was like, and dad, I think I want to really give this a shot. I don't know what that means, but I just know the groundlings.

I'm working my way up through, and I know it's a place they come look for up and coming talent. He said, if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you, which is really sweet. Yeah. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. And he's like, just give it a shot. He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat, just hang in there.

Yeah. It would not be... Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to Thanks Dad on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Where and How one is buried often has great significance, especially for royals. Joanna's parents were buried in Santa Chiara, a magnificent church that had taken Robert the Wise nearly 20 years to complete.

When Robert himself died, Joanna had commissioned Florenton, sculptors to build a three-story tomb for him in Santa Chiarra, complete with a sculpted representation of their entire family. Joanna also made sure that her first husband, Andrew, was given a dignified resting place. He was buried in the Grand Cathedral of Naples in the Chapel of St. Louis, where many members of the royal family were interred, including his paternal grandfather, Charles Martel I. But Joanna herself, despite her achievements and her fame, was not so lucky. After her murder, her body was displayed in Santa Chiarra,

where onlookers barely recognized their queen. So changed was her appearance after her year in captivity. And then it came time to bury her. Because of her choice to support Pope Clement in the Western schism, the other Pope Urban had excommunicated Joanna, which meant that she couldn't be buried in consecrated ground, and she had died as a hostile prisoner of the new ruler of Naples, who didn't feel particularly inclined to give the dead queen the same royal treatment

that she had given her own family. Eventually a solution was found. The remains of Joanna, former Queen of Naples, one of the most powerful, recognizable, infamous figures of medieval. evil history were tossed in a well, often used for the bones of the unknown dead, just behind the church of Santa Kiera, where her bones still likely lie unmarked today. Noble Blood is a production of IHeart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manky. Noble Blood is hosted by me, Dana Schwartz.

Additional writing and researching done by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Mira Hayward, Courtney Sender and Lori Goodman. The show is produced by Rima Il Kiali, with supervising producer Josh Thane and executive producers Aaron Manky, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio, visit the IHeartRadio app,

Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Vodam. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot. But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down,

it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right. It wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to thanks dad on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an I-heart podcast, guaranteed human.