Joanna I was one of the few women of her age to rule a major kingdom in her own right. She is remembered through two deaths: her husband’s in 1345, and her own in 1382.
The Horror
Joanna was born in Naples in December 1325, though some researchers propose 1326 to early 1328. Her grandfather, King Robert, named her sole heir, and she took the throne when he died on January 20, 1343. She had been married as a child to her cousin Andrew of Hungary, whose family expected him to rule.
At Aversa, on the night of September 18-19, 1345, Andrew left his room and was set on by conspirators. A servant barred the door behind him. He fought and cried out, was strangled with a cord and was thrown from a window. He was seventeen. Joanna was in the bed. Her involvement has never been proven, and historians remain divided over whether she knew, ordered it, or was a scapegoat. Whether the cord was silk and gold, as often told, is unconfirmed.
Andrew’s brother Louis of Hungary invaded, and Joanna fled to Provence in January 1348. At Avignon she met Pope Clement VI and was cleared of involvement. That year the Pope bought Avignon from her. Whether the clearing and the sale were linked is a matter of dispute, not record. She married four times, to Andrew, Louis of Taranto, James IV of Majorca and Otto of Brunswick-Grubenhagen.
Her end came from her family. Charles of Durazzo invaded in 1380 and took Naples in July 1381. She surrendered in August and was imprisoned. She died at Muro Lucano on July 27, 1382, aged 56. No eyewitness account survives. Sources variously describe strangling with a silk cord, or smothering between feather mattresses or with pillows. The method is unconfirmed. The murder was on the orders of Charles.
The Modern Relic
The castle at Muro Lucano, in the province of Potenza, was later held by the Orsini family and was repaired after earthquakes in 1694 and 1980. Whether it can be visited is unconfirmed. Joanna had been excommunicated by Urban VI and could not have consecrated burial. Her body was displayed publicly and then thrown into a well in the grounds of the church of Santa Chiara in Naples, so “burial” is not the right word.
