Despair
inspired
us with courage.
Petrarch
She had several conversations
with Petrarch, which increased her admiration of him. After the example
of her grandfather, she made him her chaplain and household clerk, both
of which offices must be supposed to have been sinecures. Her letters
appointing him to them are dated the 25th of November, 1343, the very
day before that nocturnal storm of which I shall speedily quote the
poet's description.
Voltaire has asserted that the young Queen of Naples was the pupil of
Petrarch; "but of this," as De Sade remarks, "there is no proof. " It
only appears that the two greatest geniuses of Italy, Boccaccio and
Petrarch, were both attached to Giovanna, and had a more charitable
opinion of her than most of their contemporaries.
Soon after his return from the tour to Baiae, Petrarch was witness to a
violent tempest at Naples, which most historians have mentioned, as it
was memorable for having threatened the entire destruction of the city.
The night of the 25th of November, 1343, set in with uncommonly still
weather; but suddenly a tempest rose violently in the direction of the
sea, which made the buildings of the city shake to their very
foundations. "At the first onset of the tempest," Petrarch writes to the
Cardinal Colonna, "the windows of the house were burst open. The lamp of
my chamber"--he was lodged at a monastery--"was blown out--I was shaken
from my bed with violence, and I apprehended immediate death. The friars
and prior of the convent, who had risen to pay their customary
devotions, rushed into my room with crucifixes and relics in their
hands, imploring the mercy of the Deity. I took courage, and accompanied
them to the church, where we all passed the night, expecting every
moment to be our last. I cannot describe the horrors of that dreadful
night; the bursts of lightning and the roaring of thunder were blended
with the shrieks of the people. The night itself appeared protracted to
an unnatural length; and, when the morning arrived, which we discovered
rather by conjecture than by any dawning of light, the priests prepared
to celebrate the service; but the rest of us, not having yet dared to
lift up our eyes towards the heavens, threw ourselves prostrate on the
ground. At length the day appeared--a day how like to night! The cries
of the people began to cease in the upper part of the city, but were
redoubled from the sea-shore.
Despair inspired us with courage. We
mounted our horses and arrived at the port. What a scene was there! the
vessels had suffered shipwreck in the very harbour; the shore was
covered with dead bodies, which were tossed about and dashed against the
rocks, whilst many appeared struggling in the agonies of death.
Meanwhile, the raging ocean overturned many houses from their very
foundations. Above a thousand Neapolitan horsemen were assembled near
the shore to assist, as it were, at the obsequies of their countrymen. I
caught from them a spirit of resolution, and was less afraid of death
from the consideration that we should all perish together. On a sudden a
cry of horror was heard; the sea had sapped the foundations of the
ground on which we stood, and it was already beginning to give way. We
immediately hastened to a higher place, where the scene was equally
impressive. The young Queen, with naked feet and dishevelled hair,
attended by a number of women, was rushing to the church of the Virgin,
crying out for mercy in this imminent peril. At sea, no ship escaped the
fury of the tempest: all the vessels in the harbour--one only
excepted--sunk before our eyes, and every soul on board perished. "
By the assiduity and solicitations of Petrarch, the council of Naples
were at last engaged in debating about the liberation of Colonna's
imprisoned friends; and the affair was nearly brought to a conclusion,
when the approach of night obliged the members to separate before they
came to a final decision. The cause of this separation is a sad proof of
Neapolitan barbarism at that period. It will hardly, at this day, seem
credible that, in the capital of so flourishing a kingdom, and the
residence of a brilliant court, such savage licentiousness could have
prevailed. At night, all the streets of the city were beset by the young
nobility, who were armed, and who attacked all passengers without
distinction, so that even the members of the council could not venture
to appear after a certain hour. Neither the severity of parents, nor the
authority of the magistrates, nor of Majesty itself, could prevent
continual combats and assassinations.
with Petrarch, which increased her admiration of him. After the example
of her grandfather, she made him her chaplain and household clerk, both
of which offices must be supposed to have been sinecures. Her letters
appointing him to them are dated the 25th of November, 1343, the very
day before that nocturnal storm of which I shall speedily quote the
poet's description.
Voltaire has asserted that the young Queen of Naples was the pupil of
Petrarch; "but of this," as De Sade remarks, "there is no proof. " It
only appears that the two greatest geniuses of Italy, Boccaccio and
Petrarch, were both attached to Giovanna, and had a more charitable
opinion of her than most of their contemporaries.
Soon after his return from the tour to Baiae, Petrarch was witness to a
violent tempest at Naples, which most historians have mentioned, as it
was memorable for having threatened the entire destruction of the city.
The night of the 25th of November, 1343, set in with uncommonly still
weather; but suddenly a tempest rose violently in the direction of the
sea, which made the buildings of the city shake to their very
foundations. "At the first onset of the tempest," Petrarch writes to the
Cardinal Colonna, "the windows of the house were burst open. The lamp of
my chamber"--he was lodged at a monastery--"was blown out--I was shaken
from my bed with violence, and I apprehended immediate death. The friars
and prior of the convent, who had risen to pay their customary
devotions, rushed into my room with crucifixes and relics in their
hands, imploring the mercy of the Deity. I took courage, and accompanied
them to the church, where we all passed the night, expecting every
moment to be our last. I cannot describe the horrors of that dreadful
night; the bursts of lightning and the roaring of thunder were blended
with the shrieks of the people. The night itself appeared protracted to
an unnatural length; and, when the morning arrived, which we discovered
rather by conjecture than by any dawning of light, the priests prepared
to celebrate the service; but the rest of us, not having yet dared to
lift up our eyes towards the heavens, threw ourselves prostrate on the
ground. At length the day appeared--a day how like to night! The cries
of the people began to cease in the upper part of the city, but were
redoubled from the sea-shore.
Despair inspired us with courage. We
mounted our horses and arrived at the port. What a scene was there! the
vessels had suffered shipwreck in the very harbour; the shore was
covered with dead bodies, which were tossed about and dashed against the
rocks, whilst many appeared struggling in the agonies of death.
Meanwhile, the raging ocean overturned many houses from their very
foundations. Above a thousand Neapolitan horsemen were assembled near
the shore to assist, as it were, at the obsequies of their countrymen. I
caught from them a spirit of resolution, and was less afraid of death
from the consideration that we should all perish together. On a sudden a
cry of horror was heard; the sea had sapped the foundations of the
ground on which we stood, and it was already beginning to give way. We
immediately hastened to a higher place, where the scene was equally
impressive. The young Queen, with naked feet and dishevelled hair,
attended by a number of women, was rushing to the church of the Virgin,
crying out for mercy in this imminent peril. At sea, no ship escaped the
fury of the tempest: all the vessels in the harbour--one only
excepted--sunk before our eyes, and every soul on board perished. "
By the assiduity and solicitations of Petrarch, the council of Naples
were at last engaged in debating about the liberation of Colonna's
imprisoned friends; and the affair was nearly brought to a conclusion,
when the approach of night obliged the members to separate before they
came to a final decision. The cause of this separation is a sad proof of
Neapolitan barbarism at that period. It will hardly, at this day, seem
credible that, in the capital of so flourishing a kingdom, and the
residence of a brilliant court, such savage licentiousness could have
prevailed. At night, all the streets of the city were beset by the young
nobility, who were armed, and who attacked all passengers without
distinction, so that even the members of the council could not venture
to appear after a certain hour. Neither the severity of parents, nor the
authority of the magistrates, nor of Majesty itself, could prevent
continual combats and assassinations.
