excited by the exorbitant increase of taxation, that Masaniello's wife
was detained by the keepers of the gate while she was endeavoring to
creep into the town with a bundle of flour done up in cloths to look
like a child in swaddling-clothes. She was imprisoned, and her husband,
who loved her much, only succeeded in obtaining her liberation after
eight days. Almost the whole of his miserable goods went to pay the fine
which had been imposed upon her. Thus hatred was smouldering in the mind
of Masaniello, and the flame was stirred when he--it is not known
how--quarrelled with the Duke of Maddaloni's people and was ill used by
them in an unusual manner. Then the idea seems to have occurred to him
to avenge himself by the aid of the people.
Many have related that instigators were not wanting. Giulio Genuino is
named, formerly the favorite of the Duke of Ossuna, who, after he had
encountered the strangest fate, and after wearing the chain of a galley
slave at Oran on the coast of Barbary, had returned an aged man, in the
habit of an ecclesiastic to his native country, meditating upon new
intrigues as the old ones had failed; also a captain of banditti and a
lay brother of the Carmine, who gave Masaniello money, were among the
conspirators. Perhaps all this was only an attempt to explain the
extraordinary fact. This much only is known with certainty, that
Masaniello sought to collect a troop of boys and young people, who,
among the numerous vagrant population, thronged the market and its
neighborhood from the adjacent districts, as whose leader he intended
to appear, as had often been done before, at the feast of the Madonna of
Carmel, which takes place in the middle of July.
At that festival it was the custom to build a castle of wood and canvas
in the middle of the market-place, close to which, as already has been
described, was the church and convent of the Carmelites, and this castle
was besieged and defended by troops of the people. The great mass of the
assailants was formed out of a band of lads of the lowest class, about
four hundred in number, who painted the greatest part of their bodies
and their faces black and red; their tattered clothes gave them an
oriental appearance. They were armed with sticks, and called the company
of the Alarbes, perhaps an Arabian name. They were drilled by
Masaniello, and considered him as their chief.
It is easy to conceive how ill the people spoke of the tax-gatherers,
who, by their severity and roughness in their daily treatment, kept up
perpetual quarrels and ill-will with the equally rough populace, who
therefore tried to deceive them. On one beautiful summer night the
custom-house in the great market-place flew up into the air. A quantity
of powder had been conveyed into it by unknown hands, and in the morning
nothing remained but the blackened ruins. It had been intended by this
action to oblige the Viceroy to take off the taxes; but, without loss of
time, in an opposite building, a new custom-house was established. The
collectors were only the more angry and unmerciful, and every day seemed
to bring the outbreak nearer.
Thus the morning of July 7, 1647, approached. It was Sunday, and a
number of fruit-sellers, with carts and donkeys and full baskets, came
into the town very early from Pozzuoli, and went as usual to the great
market. Scarcely had they reached it when the dispute began. The
question was not so much whether the tax should be paid, as who was to
pay it. The men of Pozzuoli maintained that the Neapolitan dealers in
fruit were to pay five _carlins_ on a hundredweight; the others said it
was not their business: thus the disturbance began.
Some respectable people who foresaw the evil hastened to the Viceroy,
who commissioned Andrea Naclerio, the deputy of the people, to go
immediately to the market-place and restore peace. Naclerio was getting
into a boat to sail to Posilipo, where he intended to spend the day
with his colleagues belonging to the association of nobles, when he
received the order. He turned back, coasted along the shore of the
Marinella, and got out by the tanner's gate, near the fort which takes
its name from the church of the Carmelites. Here a different Sunday
scene awaited him from that which he had promised himself in the
fragrant and shady gardens.
The market was filled with riotous people, and the uproar was so much
the worse because Masaniello, with his troop of Alarbes, had met them in
the morning for a grand review. The people of Pozzuoli, of bad fame
since the days of Don Pedro de Toledo, quarrelled and protested; the
Neapolitans were not a whit behind them in fluency of speech. The
tax-gatherers would listen to no remonstrances and insisted upon the
payment.
Andrea Naclerio tried in all ways to obtain a hearing and to appease the
tumult. He said to the Pozzuolans that they ought to pay, that the money
would be returned to them. They would not. He demanded to have the fruit
weighed; he would pay the tax out of his own purse: this also they
refused. The tax-gatherers and _sbirri_ now lost all patience. They
fetched the great scales, and wanted to weigh the fruit by force. Then
the venders pushed down the baskets, so that the fruit rolled along the
ground, and called out to the people: "Take what you can get, and taste
it; it is the last time that we shall come here to the market."
From all sides boys and men flung themselves upon the baskets and the
fruit. The signal was given for an insurrection. The tax-gatherers drove
the people back; the people made use of the fruit as their weapons.
Andrea Naclerio rushed into the thickest of the crowd; the captain of
the sbirri and some of the respectable inhabitants of the adjacent tan
quarter hastened hither, and bore him in their arms out of the knot of
men who in one moment had increased to a large mass; for idle people had
flocked thither from the neighboring street, from the dirty and populous
Lavinaro, as well as from the coast. The deputy was rejoiced to reach
his boat, and made the rowers ply vigorously that he might bring the
noise of the tumult to the palace. But the populace proceeded from fruit
to stones, put to flight the tax-gatherers and sbirri, crowded into the
custom-house, destroyed the table and chairs, set fire to the ruins as
well as the account-books, so that soon a bright flame rose up amid the
loud rejoicings of the bystanders.
Meanwhile Andrea Naclerio had reached the palace. He related the whole
proceeding to the Viceroy, and pointed out to him at the same time that
only the abolition of the fruit tax could appease the people. The Duke
of Arcos resolved to try mildness. Two men of illustrious birth, who
were more beloved by the crowd than the others, Tiberio Carafa, Prince
of Bisignano, and Ettore Ravaschieri, Prince of Satriano, repaired to
the market-place as peacemakers. Naclerio was not satisfied with this;
he feared that Don Tiberio would, in his kindness, promise more than
could be performed, and so only make matters worse. What he had foreseen
happened. When Bisignano reached the market and found the crowd still
wild with rage, he announced that the Viceroy would not only abolish the
fruit tax, but all the other gabelles: they might make merry and be
satisfied.
The rioters listened. A promise from the viceroy of the abolition of all
the gabelles--that was worth hearing. Masaniello had kept quiet during
the assault upon the deputy and tax-gatherers, and to a certain degree
had acted as mediator. "Now," he exclaimed, "we will march to the
palace." The great mass of the people followed him; another troop
surrounded Bisignano, who would gladly have freed himself from his wild
escort, and trotted his horse when he came to the King's gate; but they
soon reached him again, and so much forgot the respect due to his rank
that they laid their hands on him and compelled him to accompany them to
San Lorenzo, the residence of the superior town magistrate.
Arrived here, they cried out for the privileges of Charles V, an idea
instilled into them by Giulio Genuino, who, disguised and with a long
beard, made one of the procession, and was the soul of all the intrigues
that were hidden under the wild impulses of the masses. Don Tiberio
Carafa esteemed himself fortunate to escape from his oppressors; he
crept into a cell and went to Castelnuovo, from whence he repaired to
Rome, so exhausted from the scene he had witnessed that he died mad not
long afterward.
Meanwhile, the far more numerous band was on its way to the palace.
Drummers marched in advance. Masaniello had mounted a horse and held up
a banner, some of his followers were provided with sticks, and others
armed with poles. They had, in their haste, seized upon any implements
that they could find; numerous lads, old guards of the leader,
accompanied the strange procession. Whistling and making a blustering
noise, most of them in rags and barefooted--a genuine mob, who soon
became aware how much was left to their will and discretion. The Duke
was in the palace, and with him many of the nobles belonging to the
town, who advised him to strengthen his Spanish guard immediately, but
he would not, whether from fear of irritating the people, or because he
did not consider the danger so imminent. The grand master of the horse,
Don Carlo Caracciolo, with Don Luis Ponce de Leone, a cousin of the
Viceroy's, and governor of the vicarial court, were standing on one of
the balconies at the moment when the crowd reached the square before the
palace, and Masaniello, waving his banner three times before the guard,
called out, "Long life to the King of Spain! Down with the gabelles!"--a
cry which was repeated by thousands of the people.
Caracciolo went down and began to talk to the people. They remained
standing; they complained of the oppressive taxes; they complained of
the bad bread; they held him out pieces of it; he might judge himself
whether it was food for men or dogs. They urged upon all the deposition
of the _Eletto_, on whom, as usual, the blame was laid that things were
not more prosperous.
At first affairs went on tolerably well. With great dexterity Don Carlo
kept the crowd away from the entrances, while he corresponded by means
of his vassals with the Viceroy, who consented to Naclerio's
deposition--to the abolition of the duties on fruit and on wine. Now the
audacity of the crowd increased. Why not ask for more when everything
was granted to them? The flour tax also! Caracciolo objected; things
could not go on so. But in the same moment new masses of many thousand
men crowded into the square, uttering wild noises. The negotiator was
obliged to give way, and had only time to inform the Viceroy that he
might withdraw into Castelnuovo.
When the people found the outer gate of the palace unguarded, they
rushed into the court and forced their way up the great stairs. At the
end of it, at the entrance of the hall, stood the German bodyguard. They
crossed their halberds to ward off the crowd, but the pressure was too
violent. After a short struggle their arms were wrenched from them;
ill-treated and bleeding, they could no longer defend the entrance
against the assailants. Meanwhile the Duke of Arcos had made his
appearance at one of the balconies, and told the crowd in the Spanish
language to compose themselves; he would do their will. But they did not
understand him, and cried out that he must keep to what he had promised
them by the Prince of Bisignano. The Viceroy saw that he was losing
time. Already the foremost of the assailants stormed at the doors of the
first saloon, which had been locked in haste. Now every moment was
precious. In vain did Don Carlo Caracciolo try once more to appease the
people: a blow from an iron staff wounded him in the arm, and he was hit
by two stones. The doors of the first saloon fell with a loud crash to
the ground. Now the crowd saw no further impediment. Everything
remaining in the palace was torn asunder. The Viceroy, causing the
various doors to be bolted behind him, hastened to the gallery, that he
might reach the spiral staircase leading into the court-yard. Now he
repented that he had not followed Caracciolo's advice, who had desired
him to make his escape to the castle. Andrea Naclerio concealed himself
in the apartments of the Vice-queen, let himself down by a rope into the
garden, and fortunately reached the fortress. But the mob broke
everything that they found in the royal apartments, the panes of the
high windows clattered upon the ground, and in the midst of wild
rejoicings and laughter all the valuable household furniture was flung
down from the balconies into the streets, including the chairs, the
great parasol of the governor of the Collateral Council, and the mangled
papers of the secretary. Even the balustrades of the balconies did not
escape the vandal fury of the populace, and with heavy iron poles and
hammers they dashed in pieces the beautifully polished works of
sculpture.
The Duke of Arcos had descended the spiral staircase, when he perceived
that the bridges of the castle were already drawn up, the portcullis let
down. He believed that he could save himself by crossing the square to
the opposite convent of the Minimi, as he imagined that the rebels were
too much occupied with plundering the palace to attend to him. But he
miscalculated. Scarcely had he reached the square when he was recognized
and surrounded. A knight of St. Jago, Don Antonio Taboada, was
accidentally passing by; he succeeded in penetrating through the crowd
to the Viceroy and lifted him into his carriage. The rescue of the Duke
of Arcos turned upon a hair. One of the people, it is said Masaniello
himself, wanted to thrust his sword into him, but the blow was parried
by Don Emanuel Vaez. A runaway Augustinian monk seized him by the hair
and screamed, "Abolish the taxes!" The carriage could not go on. The
horses pranced; some of the people seized the reins; the coachman was on
the ground. Then many of the nobles pressed through the crowd, making
themselves a passage partly by violence, partly by fair words--the Count
of Conversano, the Marquises of Torrecuso and Brienza, the Duke of
Castile Airola, the prior of Rocella Carafa, Don Antonio Enriquez, and
Carlo Caracciolo. The Viceroy was indebted to them for his rescue.
They surrounded the carriage with drawn swords. The rebels had already
taken the harness off the horses; two noblemen took possession of it,
put it on as well as they could, and Caracciolo jumped upon the
coach-box, fastened in the loose horses, while the other nobles remained
at the door. But there was no getting further--the cries, the uproar,
the mass of men increased every instant. So few against so many--if
there was any delay no exit would remain. Don Carlos' mind was quickly
made up; he opened the doors of the carriage, dragged out the half-dead
Viceroy, seized him by the arm, while the rest of the nobles surrounded
them, raising high their swords and warding off the pressure of the mob.
With the cry, "Make room for the King!" they got through the crowd.
Thus they reached the gates of the convent; it was shut up. The populace
yelled and threatened the monks with a thousand maledictions if they
opened it. The general and the provincial of the order were present,
both Spaniards. They ordered the gate to be half opened to admit the
Viceroy. Thus it was accomplished. Caracciolo gave the Duke a push, and
he was saved. But the noblemen to whom he was indebted for his safety
remained without, exposed to the fury of the mob, now become so much the
more savage as they saw that their victim had escaped. Carlo Caracciolo
saved himself with difficulty. A stone wounded the Marquis of Brienza in
the neck. The people tried to break open the gates of the convent, which
the monks had barricaded in haste. "Long life to the King of Spain! Down
with the bad government!" This was the cry, echoed from a thousand
voices. The Duke of Arcos showed himself at the window--he repeated that
he would grant what was desired--he threw down a declaration signed by
himself. Nothing was of any avail. The rebels tried to get into the
convent through the church; they threatened to drag the Viceroy to the
market. The alarm spread through the town.
The night came--what a night! A hundred thousand men marched with loud
cries through the town. The churches were open, and resounded with
prayers for the restoration of peace. The Theatines and Jesuits left
their convents and arranged themselves in processions, singing litanies
to the Madonna and the saints, but the _Ora pro nobis_ was overpowered
by the fury of the crowd. Although the first forced their way down the
Toledo to the palace, and the others penetrated to the great
market-place, they were obliged nevertheless to withdraw without having
accomplished their object. All the highwaymen and murderers, of which
Naples was full, left their hiding-places.
The first thing done was to break open the prisons and set the prisoners
at liberty--all, excepting those confined in the prisons of the vicarial
court, for the castle of Capuano inspired the rebels with respect,
whether because of a very large imperial eagle of Charles V fixed over
the portal, or because the garrison of the old fortress, together with
the sbirri, stood with lighted matches behind the crossbars, and
threatened the assailants with a bloody welcome.
The prisoners in the vicarial court now sought to set themselves free,
and began by destroying the crossbars with heavy beams; but some shots,
which laid two of them dead on the ground, warned them to desist from
their attempt. All the other prisons were cleared, and the archives and
everything that could be found in them was burned; the toll-booths
throughout the town were demolished. The mob went from one gate to
another. Everywhere the toll-gatherers had escaped--nobody thought of
making any resistance, and as there were no more prisons to be broken
open, no more custom-houses to be destroyed, the populace began to
attack the houses of those who they knew had, by farming tolls or in any
other way, become rich at the expense of the people. There was no
mention of defence--the proprietors were glad to save their bare lives.
Many rewarded with gold the services of the rowers who conveyed them to
a villa at Posilipo or to any other place beyond the town.
But the houses were emptied; first that of the cashier of taxes,
Alphonso Vagliano. Beautiful household furniture, plate, pictures,
everything that could be found was dragged into the streets, thrown
together in a heap and burned; and when one of the people wanted to
conceal a jewel, he was violently upbraided by the rest.
Hitherto but few, comparatively, of the rebels had been armed; they felt
this deficiency and wanted to procure themselves arms and artillery.
With this view they attacked the convent and belfry of San Lorenzo, but
the small Spanish garrison received them with sharp firing, and they
were obliged to retire; they only committed the more acts of wanton
cruelty. The most fearful confusion prevailed; first in one place and
then in another the sky was red with the conflagration. Suddenly a lurid
light illumined the towers and projecting buildings. The market-place
was the principal quarter of the insurgents, who still wanted a leader.
There, toward midnight, four men, masked, wearing the habit of one of
the holy brotherhoods, entered a circle of men composed of the dregs of
the populace--among them was Masaniello. Giulio Genuino, one of the four
men, took off his mask. He had excited and fanned the flame the whole
day, and now he sought, in the darkness of the night, to complete what
he had begun.
They had done right, he said, to let the King of Spain live, for it was
not a question of taking the crown of Spain off his head, but to put an
end to the oppression of the people by his covetous ministers. They must
not rest till they had obtained this; but to obtain it, it was necessary
above all things to procure themselves arms, and, by the choice of a
leader, to give union and steadiness to their undertaking. They all
agreed with him, and that very same night they followed his advice and
provided themselves with arms. They stormed the shops of the
sword-cutlers, and took possession of five pieces of light artillery
belonging to the proprietor of a ship, and even during this first night
the name of Masaniello passed from mouth to mouth.
The morning came, but it brought neither assistance nor repose. When the
day dawned there was a beating of drums, a ringing of bells, and country
people pouring in from all sides. The discontented vassals of the barons
in the neighborhood, the banditti, and vagabonds of all kinds increased
the masses of the populace of the capital, who were augmented by troops
of horrible women, and children more than half naked, making the most
dreadful uproar. Arms of all kinds were in the hands of the insurgents;
some of them made use of household and agricultural implements both for
attack and defence. Unfortunately, various powder-magazines fell into
their hands.
At Little Molo they stormed a house in which ammunition had been placed;
it caught fire and blew up; about forty persons were killed and double
the number wounded, most of them severely. The exasperation only
increased. It was soon observed that it was not blind fury alone which
conducted the rebellion--clever management was evident. The Count of
Monterey had given the people a sort of military constitution, as he
divided them into companies according to the quarters of the town, which
resembled those _Hermandades_ which the Archbishop of Tortosa, afterward
Pope Adrian VI, formed in the time of Charles V in Spain, and that
afterward caused an insurrection of the Communeros. This practice in the
forms of war was now of use to the insurgents, and when on the second
morning some of the working classes and mechanics, and persons indeed
that belonged to a higher class of citizens, joined themselves to the
actual mob, thinking to obtain a better government in consequence of the
insurrection, the danger increased. The two principal leaders were
Domenico Perrone, formerly a captain of sbirri, and Masaniello, whom the
people about the market-place and the Lavinaro and its vicinity had
chosen: but Giulio Genuino conducted the whole affair by his counsel.
A formal council of war was held in Castelnuovo. The Viceroy was quite
aware that the utmost he could do with his few troops would be to defend
these fortresses of the town against the people, but that he could not
subdue them. He was, moreover, reluctant to make use of fire-arms, as
the insurgents proclaimed aloud everywhere their loyalty to the King. So
he resolved to open a negotiation, to regain his lost ground, or at
least to gain time.
The Duke of Arcos has been accused of having, even in these early
moments, conceived the plan to push the nobles forward, with the view to
make them more hateful than ever to the populace, and thus to annihilate
their influence completely, a policy that was so much the more knavish
the more faithfully the nobles had stood by him during these last
eventful twenty-four hours, at the peril of their own lives. Whatever
his plan may have been, the result was the same; whether the idea
proceeded from the Duke of Arcos, or his successor, the Count of Onate,
the insurrection of 1647 caused the ruin of the aristocracy.
The Prince of Montesarchio was the first whom the Viceroy sent as a
messenger of peace. The name of D'Avalos was through Pescara and Del
Vasto closely associated with the warlike fame of the times of Charles
V. His reputation had been brilliant from the period of the Moorish wars
until now. Great possessions secured him great influence in many parts
of the kingdom. Montesarchio rode to the market-place provided with a
written promise of the Viceroy's touching the abolition of the taxes. He
took an oath in the church of the Carmelites that the promise should be
kept; the people refused to believe him. Then the Duke of Arcos resolved
upon sending others. The general of the Franciscans, Fra Giovanni
Mistanza, who was in the castle, directed his attention to the Duke of
Maddaloni.