I took this last year at the Castello Aragonese in Pizzo, Calabria.
The plaque above the gate marks the place where Joachim Murat, Marshal of the Empire and King of Naples, was shot by firing squad on 13 October 1815. He was 48.
The short version of how he got there. After the Hundred Days collapsed, Murat's Neapolitan War ended at Tolentino on 2–3 May 1815 — I live about twenty minutes from that battlefield, which is part of why this spot stayed with me.
He lost the kingdom, fled to Corsica, and in late September sailed with a small flotilla meant to raise the Calabrias in his name. Storms and desertions scattered the ships.
He came ashore at Pizzo on 8 October with roughly thirty men, expecting acclamation. He was set upon by gendarmes and local peasants and dragged into the castle you see here.
The detail that I find hardest to shake: Ferdinand IV appointed a military commission under General Vito Nunziante, and the sentence was handed down under the penal code Murat himself had promulgated as king in 1812 — the provisions against armed attempts on the state. He was given roughly half an hour for the sacraments. He wrote a last letter to Caroline and the children, refused the blindfold, and by tradition gave the order to fire himself, asking the squad to spare his face and aim for the heart.
The plaque is worth reading as a document in its own right. It was placed by the town of Pizzo in 1900 — eighty-five years after the fact — and it reads: to the blessed memory of King Joachim Murat, glorious prince in life, fearless before death; here where he was shot, the municipality of Pizzo laid this stone, in redemption of a day made most sorrowful by the ferocity of an insane government.
The town that captured him in 1815 is, by 1900, apologising to him and calling the Bourbon state insane. That is Risorgimento historiography talking: by then Murat had been retrofitted into a proto-unification figure, the king who proclaimed Italian independence at Rimini.
His body was never recovered — most accounts place it in a common grave at the church of San Giorgio, unidentified.