Thomaso Aniello, called by corruption Masaniello, was born at Amalfi, in
Italy, about the year 1622. He established himself at Naples, where he
obtained a living by catching and vending fish. At this period, Naples
belonged to Spain, and the Duke D'Arcos governed it as viceroy. The city
was suffering under many political evils. Its treasures went to Spain,
and its youth were sent to fill up the ranks of the Spanish army; and
both were wasted in ruinous wars, for the ambition and selfish views of
a distant court.
In addition to all this, the people were oppressed with taxes, and
outraged by the wanton tyranny of the officers of a foreign power. At
last, in the year 1647, the Duke D'Arcos, in order to defray the
expenses of a war against France, laid a tax on fruit and vegetables,
the common articles of food of the Neapolitan people. This edict
occasioned the greatest ferment, especially among the poorer
inhabitants. Masaniello, who was now about twenty-five years of age, and
a great favorite at the market-place, on account of his natural
quickness and humor, denounced the tax in no measured terms. He seems to
have perceived and felt the despotism that oppressed the people, and
was, moreover, incited to opposition by an event which touched him
personally.
His wife was one day arrested, as she was entering the city, attempting
to smuggle a small quantity of flour,--an article which bore a heavy
tax. She was accordingly, seized and imprisoned; nor could Masaniello
obtain her release, but upon paying a considerable sum. Thus the fire
which was soon to burst forth into conflagration was already kindling in
his soul. Opportunity was only wanting, and this was soon offered.
Masaniello was at the head of a troop of young men who were preparing
for the great festival of our Lady of the Carmel, by exhibiting sham
combats, and a mock attack on a wooden castle. On the 7th July, 1647, he
and his juvenile troops were standing in the market-place, where, in
consequence of the obnoxious tax, but few countrymen had come with the
produce of their gardens. The people looked sullen and dissatisfied. A
dispute arose between a countryman and a customer who had bought some
figs, as to which of the two was to bear the burden of the tax.
The _eletto_, a municipal magistrate, acting as provost of the trade,
being appealed to, decided against the countryman; upon which the
latter, in a rage, upset the basket of figs upon the pavement. A crowd
soon collected round the man, who was cursing the tax and the
tax-gatherer. Masaniello ran to the spot, crying out, "No taxes, no more
taxes!" The cry was caught and repeated by a thousand voices. The
_eletto_ tried to speak to the multitude, but Masaniello threw a bunch
of figs in his face; the rest of the people fell upon him, and he and
his attendants escaped with difficulty.
Masaniello then addressed the people round him in a speech of coarse,
hot, fiery eloquence; he described their common grievances and miseries,
and pointed out the necessity of putting a stop to the oppression and
avarice of their rulers. "The Neapolitan people," said he, "must pay no
more taxes!" The people cried out, "Let Masaniello be our chief!"
The crowd now set itself in motion, with Masaniello at their head; it
rolled onward, increasing its numbers at every step. Their rage first
fell on the toll-houses and booths of the tax collectors, which were
burned, and next on the houses and palaces of those who had farmed the
taxes, or otherwise supported the obnoxious system. Armed with such
weapons as they could procure from the gunsmiths and others, they
proceeded to the viceroy's palace, forced their way in spite of the
guards; and Masaniello and others, his companions, having reached the
viceroy's presence, peremptorily demanded the abolition of all taxes.
The viceroy assented to this; but the tumult increasing, he tried to
escape, was personally ill-treated, and at last contrived, by throwing
money among the rioters, to withdraw himself into the castle. The
palaces were emptied of their furniture, which was carried into the
midst of the square, and there burnt by Masaniello's directions. He was
now saluted by acclamation, as "Captain General of the Neapolitan
people." A platform was immediately raised in the square, and he entered
upon the duties of his office.
The revolution was soon complete, and Naples, the metropolis of many
fertile provinces, the queen of many noble cities, the resort of
princes, of cavaliers, and of heroes;--Naples, inhabited by more than
six hundred thousand souls, abounding in all kinds of resources,
glorying in its strength, and proud of its wealth--saw itself forced in
one short day to yield to a man esteemed one of its meanest sons, such
obedience as in all its history it had never before shown to the
mightiest of its legitimate sovereigns.
In a few hours, the fisherman found himself at the head of one hundred
and fifty thousand men; in a few hours, there was no will in Naples but
his; and in a few hours, it was freed from all sorts of taxes and
restored to its ancient privileges. In a short space, the fishing wand
was exchanged for the truncheon of command; the sea-boy's jacket for
cloth of silver and gold. He set about his new duties with astonishing
vigor; he caused the town to be entrenched; he placed sentinels to guard
it against danger from without, and he established a system of police
within, which awed the worst banditti in the world, into fear.
Armies passed in review before him; even fleets owned his sway. He
dispensed punishments and rewards with the like liberal hand; the bad he
kept in awe; the disaffected he paralyzed; the wavering he resolved by
exhortation; the bold were encouraged by incitements; the valiant were
made more valiant by his approbation. Obeyed in whatever he commanded,
gratified in whatever he desired, never was there a chief more absolute,
never was an absolute chief, for a time, more powerful. He ordered that
all the nobles and cavaliers should deliver up their arms to such
officers as he should give commission to receive them. The order was
obeyed. He ordered that all men of all ranks should go without cloaks or
gowns, or wide cassocks, or any other sort of loose dress, under which
arms might be concealed; nay, that even the women, for the same reason,
should throw aside their farthingales, and tuck up their gowns somewhat
high.
This order changed in an instant the whole fashions of the people; not
even the proudest and the fairest of Naples' daughters daring to
dispute, in the least, the pleasure of the people's idol. Nor was it
over the high and noble alone, that he exercised this unlimited
ascendancy. The fierce democracy were as acquiescent as the titled few.
On one occasion, when the people in vast numbers were assembled, he
commanded, with a loud voice, that every one present should, under the
penalty of death, retire to his home. The multitude instantly
dispersed. On another, he put his finger on his mouth, to command
silence; in a moment, every voice was hushed. At a sign from him, all
the bells tolled and the people shouted "_Vivas!_" at another, they all
became mute.
Yet the reign of this prodigy of power was short, lasting only from the
7th till the 16th of July, 1647; when he perished, the victim of another
political revolution. His sudden rise, and the multiplicity of affairs
that crowded upon him, began to derange his intellect. He complained of
sensations like that of boiling lead, in his head; he became suspicious,
wavering and cruel. In a fit of frenzy he went to one of the churches
and talked incoherently to the multitude. He was taken by the priests to
an adjoining convent, and advised to rest and calm himself. After
reposing for a time, he arose, and stood looking forth upon the tranquil
bay of Naples, no doubt thinking of happier days, when, as a poor
fisherman, he glided out contented upon its bosom--when all at once a
cry was heard, of "Masaniello!" At the same instant armed men appeared
at the cell door. "Here am I,--O, my people want me," said he. The
discharge of guns was their only reply; and the victim fell, exclaiming,
"Ungrateful traitors!" His head was now cut off, fixed on a pole, and
carried to the viceroy, while the body was dragged through the streets
and thrown into a ditch, by those who had followed it with acclamations
a few hours before!