the banks were everywhere covered with Castruccio's troops, who, armed with light darts and shields, uttered triumphant cries, and wounded many men and horses; the latter of which taking fright, reared and threw their riders. The noise and tumult was immense; Castruccio's men trying to prevent those who were in the water from coming out, and they, on the other hand, striving to get ashore to enable those who were behind to come to their support. At length, Castruccio seeing that his men, as well as the Florentines, were nearly exhausted with the struggle, brought up a fresh body close behind them, and bidding those who were fighting separate to the right and left, the reinforcement advanced in their place. This manœuvre gave opportunity for many of the Florentines to quit the water; but finding themselves, exhausted and weary as they were, opposed to fresh troops, they were unable to cope with them. The infantry being overcome, Castruccio next put the Florentine cavalry to flight, with great glory to himself and his men; and out of that large army not a third escaped! Prince Charles of Naples was taken prisoner, together with many other noblemen of eminence. "The plunder was great," says Machiavelli, "but the slaughter greatest of all, since 20,231 Florentines, and 1570 of Castruccio's troops, were left dead upon the field!"

But fortune, most envious of his glory when it

seemed to have attained its greatest brightness, cut short all those designs which he had long so fondly nourished, and which nothing but death could have hindered him from executing. At the close of this eventful day, Castruccio, ready to drop with heat and fatigue, checked his horse at the gates of Fucecchio, to wait for the return of his victorious troops, that he might praise and thank them in person; considering it the business of a true knight to be the first to spring into his saddle, and the last to quit it. He was thus exposed to a cold cutting wind, which blew from the Arno, and which, though disregarded by him at the time, was the occasion of his death. That very night he was assailed by a terrible fever, which no medicine could assuage; and being given over by his physicians, he called to his bedside Pagolo Giunigi, his adopted son, and addressed to him a long speech, the purport of which was, that if he had known how short was to be his career, he would never have commenced those ambitious undertakings which had only made him a great number of enemies; but would have remained content with the sovereignty of Lucca. Then, assembling the chief citizens of Lucca, Pisa, and Pistoia, he made them take an oath of obedience to Pagolo Giunigi, and soon after expired.

Castruccio was above the usual height, and of

graceful figure. His hair inclined to red, as did that of Alexander the Great and Henry of Navarre; and he always had it closely cut over his brow. He wore a helmet sometimes, but a hat or cap never, let the weather be what it would. Many are the pointed and witty sayings recorded of him, few of them suitable, however, to a modern taste. Among the best, may be given the following. Going from Pisa to Leghorn, by water, a terrible storm came on, which terrified him so much as to awaken the derision of one of his companions, who boasted of never being afraid: to which Castruccio replied"No wonder; each of us values his soul at what it is worth." Another time, seeing over the door of an acquaintance a Latin inscription to this effect"God keep this house from evil!" "He must never enter his own house then!" cried Castruccio. Again, seeing a very little house with a very large door, he exclaimed, "Take care your house does not run out through the window!" Such are the trifles preserved of this eminent man, who for a short time raised Lucca from the obscurity into which she again sank at his death. Pagola Giunigi was unable to maintain his claim to Pisa and Pistoia, and with difficulty kept possession of Lucca, which remained under the authority of his house, however, till the time of Pagolo, his grand

son.

་

111

JOANNA OF NAPLES.

A. D. 1343.

THE contest between Peter of Arragon and Charles of Anjou for the crown of the Two Sicilies was renewed between their sons. Frederic of Arragon was at length so far successful as to obtain possession of Sicily for life, on condition of its reverting to Charles the Second of Anjou, who, with the pope's assistance, had already made himself master of Naples.

Charles left the Neapolitan crown to his son Robert, who was engaged during nearly the whole of his long reign in fruitless struggles with Frederic the Third for the possession of Sicily. Robert was a wise and amiable monarch, more esteemed for his literary attainments and his patronage of science and the arts, than for his military or political skill. He was one of the many learned men whose childhood has been unmarked by any tokens of precocity; for it was with the greatest difficulty that he could be brought to learn the common rudiments of grammar; nor did he show any fondness for reading till his tutor placed Æsop's Fables in his hands, with which he was so much enchanted that he thenceforth applied himself diligently to his studies. His taste for literature afterwards became

so decided, that he often said "he would rather | part with his kingdom than with his books." He invited the most eminent scholars to Naples, and bestowed great pains in forming a royal library. Petrarch was proud of his friendship, though at this distance of time his own fame so far exceeds that of the king, that we consider Robert of Naples as the most fortunate in possessing the esteem of the poet.

Robert was so unhappy as to outlive his only son, who he had hoped would succeed him. At the period of this calamity he was old and infirm, and the fear that his kingdom would pass from his family imbittered his days. Prince Charles had left two infant daughters, Joanna and Maria, the eldest of whom was now heiress to the throne. Her grandfather therefore determined to betroth her to Andrew, the second son of the King of Hungary, a boy of seven years of age, that she might not be left without relative and protectors in the event of his death. The young prince travelled to Naples, escorted by several Hungarian attendants, and his aged nurse, Isolda, who loved him with the tenderness of a mother.

It was soon discovered that Andrew was of a sullen and morose temper, fond of vulgar amusements, careless of polite accomplishments, and rough and unpleasing in his manners. The aged