Domenico Garguilo--called Micco Spadone--whose paintings have
represented to us many of the scenes of this revolution. The Fisherman
of Amalfi is riding at the head of a tumultuous crowd, surrounded by
adults and boys; his white horse is made to gallop; upon his breast is
to be seen a medallion with a picture of the Madonna of Carmel. In the
middle of the market-place, where the scene opens opposite to the church
of the Carmelites, there are bloody heads ranged in a double row round a
marble pedestal on which no statue is any longer to be seen, and the
gibbet and the wheel await the new victims among those who are
persecuted, or have already been dragged thither by the populace.
The afternoon was already advanced when Cardinal Filomarino got into his
carriage, before the church, with his house-steward, Giulio Genuino, and
two persons of his suite. Masaniello rode at his right hand, and at his
left Arpaja, the deputy of the people. In the streets through which the
procession passed, from the market-place to the square of the castle,
the people were armed, and formed into bands of six thousand companies,
who lowered their colors before the cardinal and the captain-general.
Thousands and thousands had hastened thither to witness so remarkable a
spectacle. In the square of the castle were placed over the gate of the
palace of the Prince of Cellamare the effigies of Charles V and Philip
IV under a canopy. Masaniello stopped, drew out the charter of the old
privileges, together with the new, that he carried before him on his
saddle, and spoke to the assembled crowd, to whom he announced that
everything was settled. The people replied that what he had done was
well done, and so the procession marched on, preceded by a trumpeter,
proclaiming, "Long life to the King, and the most faithful people of
Naples!"
The Viceroy had repaired to the palace, which had been hastily prepared.
He received the deputation of the people in the saloon of Alva, where
the frescoes recalled the most glorious times of Spain.
Masaniello flung himself down before him; the Viceroy raised him up,
with friendly words, embraced him, went with him and the cardinal into
the adjoining royal saloon, and when the throng of people filled the
square and the uproar continued to increase, he entreated him to show
himself on the balcony. Masaniello did it; but when he reëntered the
saloon he was so overpowered by the sensations of the day that he sank
unconscious on the ground. Now the Viceroy became uneasy when he thought
of the vengeance of the people if anything happened to their idol. But
Masaniello recovered, and the actual conference began.
The articles of the treaty were confirmed, and their publication was to
take place two days afterward. Masaniello was recognized in his office
as captain-general of the people, received a golden chain, and was
conducted by the proud Duke to the stairs, and publicly called a
faithful servant of the King and a glorious defender of the people. He
kissed the hand of the Viceroy, and was dismissed by him with another
embrace.
The peace was concluded, though not yet solemnly ratified; but how
little did the state of the town correspond to it! In the same night,
while Masaniello was entertained by Cardinal Filomarino, a cry was again
raised of treason and banditti; watch-fires were kindled, and the
clatter of arms heard. The captain-general of the people governed, as
there was no magistrate in Naples. In the obscurity of the night he
caused the heads of fourteen persons to be cut off, without trial or
judgment, upon the accusation of their being banditti. He had a wooden
scaffold erected before his house of the same sort as the booths of the
mountebanks. Here he issued his orders, and printed decrees appeared:
"By the command of the illustrious Lord, Maso Aniello of Amalfi,
Captain-general of the Most Faithful People." He had memorials and
petitions brought to him on the point of a halberd, and read to him by
his secretary, upon which he issued his orders like an absolute ruler.
The price of oil and of corn was fixed. It was forbidden to show one's
self in the streets after the second hour in the night, excepting to
minister the last rites of the Church, or to visit the sick and women in
labor. All priests were to present themselves, that it might be
investigated whether they were real ecclesiastics or banditti in
disguise. A number of burdensome directions about costume were
published. There was a rich harvest for spies and accusers.
What had been at the first a defence against tyranny and arbitrariness
became now only worse tyranny. No families of noble rank could remain.
None could trust or even order about their servants, for Masaniello
summoned the domestics to arms and rewarded their treachery to their
lords. Armed bands, under known leaders, had formed themselves, and went
their own ways unchecked. Five days were sufficient to put an end to all
discipline and order. During these wild doings no privacy could be had.
If the errors of the nobility had been borne hitherto, now began the
saturnalia of the populace, and they were far more bloody and horrible
than those of the nobles.
This was the condition of the town of Naples at the time when King
Philip's Viceroy and the Captain-general of the Most Faithful People met
in the cathedral on July 17th to publish solemnly the new treaty. The
venerable church had witnessed many changes in the relations and
destinies of the kingdom proclaimed in her vaulted halls, with the
history of which it had, so to speak, grown up; but never had it been
the theatre for such a degradation of the royal power.
Before the ceremony took place, the Duke of Arcos was obliged to submit
to many humiliations. No cavalier was allowed to accompany him in the
procession, because Masaniello had forbidden it. The Fisherman had
disarmed all persons of rank, but armed _popolans_ stood in double rows
along the streets, which were necessarily cleansed from dirt and
rubbish, and the balconies were hung with tapestry. The
Cardinal-archbishop, in pontifical attire, took his seat under the
_baldachin_, while at some distance from him sat the Viceroy and
Masaniello. The Knight of Alcantara, Donato Cappola, Duke of Canzano,
read the articles instead of the secretary of the kingdom. The principal
contents were the confirmation of the old privileges of Ferdinand of
Aragon till the time of Charles V; a remission of all guilt and
punishment for crimes of _lese-majesté_, and, on account of the
disturbances, an equality of the nobility and the people with reference
to the number of votes in affairs of the town; the abolition of all
gabelles and taxes which had been introduced since the time of the
emperor Charles V, with the exception of those upon which private
persons had rights; liberty of the market, and remission of punishment
for the excesses committed in the destruction of houses and property.
The ratification of the treaty from Madrid was to follow within the
three months; till that time the people were to continue in arms.
During the reading of these articles Masaniello had been very uneasy,
and had made observations first on one point and then on another. When
Donato Cappola had finished reading he wanted to take off his sumptuous
dress of silver brocade in the middle of the church, because he declared
that he was now nobody. When he was hindered from doing this, he flung
himself upon the ground and kissed the feet of the cardinal. The Duke of
Arcos swore to the contract, with his hand upon the Gospels. The
Archbishop sang the _Te Deum_, and the people shouted "Long life to the
King of Spain!" The companies fired their rifles; the Viceroy returned
through the streets, swarming with men, to the castle, and everywhere
resounded the cry, "Long life to the King and the Duke of Arcos!" Then,
as Masaniello returned home, the companies all lowered their colors as
he passed.
The power of the Fisherman of Amalfi was at its height; but already he
was near his ruin. The unusual way of life, the always increasing
excitement, the constant speaking and watching, the small quantity of
nourishment which he took from dread of poison--all this, in the most
fearful heat of summer, affected him bodily and completely turned his
head. His actions can only be explained by their being the beginning of
insanity. If a crowd of people did not please him, he attacked and
wounded them right and left. All the persons, amounting to a thousand,
that lived near his cottage on the market-place he expelled from their
dwellings, that these might be destroyed and he might build a large
palace for himself. He lavished gold and silver with prodigality, and
gave a number of prostitutes rich dowries; he distributed the titles of
princes and dukes, gave great banquets at Poggio Reale and at Posilipo,
to which he invited the Viceroy, and sent his wife and mother in
magnificent dresses to visit the Duchess of Arcos. "If your excellency
is the vice-queen of the ladies," said the Fisherman's wife, "I am the
vice-queen of the women of the people."
But fear of the Duke of Maddaloni haunted him like a spectre. He ordered
his beautiful villa at Posilipo to be destroyed, and made his people
ransack once more his pillaged palace at Santa Maria della Stella. The
barber of the Duke and a Moorish slave bought their lives, the first by
giving him various jewels that had been concealed, and the other told
him that it was Diomed Carafa who had caused the admiral's ship to be
set on fire, which had been blown into the air the preceding May. The
Moor, for this lie, obtained the command of four companies of the
people. The Fisherman put to death many poor musicians merely because
they had been in the service of Maddaloni. The Duke's correspondence was
intercepted, but as it was written in cipher it only increased the
suspicion. The new master of Naples repaired himself to the palace of
Carafa, and wanted to dine there; but he changed his mind, and had a
dinner served up with great pomp at a neighboring convent.
While he was eating there, some of his people dragged thither two
portraits of the Duke and his father, Don Marzio. Upon them he vented
his childish rage; smashed the frames; cut out the heads, which he put
on pikes, which he commanded to be placed on the table before him. On
his return from the market he put on a suit of Carafa's clothes, of blue
silk embroidered with silver; he hung on his neck a gold chain, and
fastened in his hat a diamond clasp, all the property of his enemy who
had escaped. Then he flung himself on a horse, drew forth his pistols
with both hands, and threatened to shoot anyone who approached him, or
who showed himself at the windows, galloped to the sea, where was the
gondola of the Viceroy, undressed himself in it, was dried with fine
Dutch linen, and put on a shirt of Maddaloni's trimmed with lace; and
hearing that Maddaloni had gone toward Piedimonte d'Alife, he ordered a
troop of two thousand men to march thither and seize him. But as these
men, undisciplined in arms, as usual played their parts as heroes better
in the streets than in the open field, they fared wretchedly.
The Prince of Colobrano, a cousin of the Duke's, with some other
friends, surprised them suddenly in the mountains with not more than a
hundred men. Many perished in battle, others of their exertions and
hunger, and, when the intelligence of Masaniello's unfortunate end
reached them, the wretched remainder of the troops returned to Naples.
Masaniello's supremacy was approaching its termination--madness and
cruelty strove within him. It was the worst kind of mob rule. At the
entrance of the Toledo, not far from the royal palace, a high gallows
was erected. Every complaint was listened to, and no defence; no one
felt secure in his home or in his family; the houses of the nobility all
stood empty, and the most sensible of the people saw that the
continuation of this state of things could only lead to universal ruin;
the churches were profaned under the pretext that treasure or banditti
were concealed in them; the terrible decorations of the great
market-place were increased by above two hundred heads, and spread a
real plague under the scorching rays of the sun. Cardinal Filomarino had
either lost his influence or else the dread of losing his popularity
made him impotent. Yet he wrote to the Pope: "The wisdom, the acuteness,
and the moderation first shown by this man are entirely gone since the
signature of the capitulation, and are changed into audacity, rage, and
tyranny, so that even the people, his followers, hate him."
Among these followers, before all, were Genuino and Arpajo; but when
they saw that they could do nothing with this hare-brained man, that
everything was going to ruin, and that their own ill-acquired position
was therefore in the greatest danger, they came to an understanding with
the Viceroy and his Collateral Council. The Viceroy, in his own person,
conferred with common murderers, and the Feast of Our Lady of Carmel, on
Thursday, July 16th, was fixed for the execution of the plan.
During the night all the military posts were strengthened, soldiers were
concealed in different houses, and the galleys were brought near the
shore. Silently and gloomily the masses filled the streets; a dull mood
seemed to have taken possession of everyone. The Archbishop was
celebrating high mass in the church of Santa Maria del Carmine. Scarcely
was it ended and the prelate gone when Masaniello, with a crucifix in
his hand, mounted the pulpit. His speech was a mixture of truth and
madness; he complained of the inconstancy of the people, enumerated his
services, described the oppressions that would fall upon them if they
deserted him; he confessed his sins, and admonished the others to do the
same before the Holy Virgin, that they might obtain the mercy of God,
and as he raised the crucifix to bless the people a woman called to him
to be silent, that the Mother of God would not listen to such nonsense.
He began to undress himself in the pulpit, to show how emaciated he was
by labor and sleepless nights. A Carmelite monk then sprang upon the
lunatic, compelled him to descend the steps, and dragged him, with the
assistance of the rest of the monks, into the convent, where, in a
complete state of exhaustion, he flung himself upon a bed in one of the
cells and fell asleep.
The mercenaries hired by the Duke of Arcos and nine men belonging to the
people had been for a long while in the church, armed with daggers and
pistols. Scarcely was the divine service ended, which had been
interrupted by this scandalous scene, when these men hastened to the
convent and inquired for Masaniello. The monks wanted to defend him; an
uproar took place. The sleeper awoke, believed that they were some of
his followers, and hastened to the gates. At the same moment the
murderers pressed into the passage and perceived their victim. Five
shots were fired. Mortally wounded by one of them, he fell to the
ground, while he covered his face with his hand, uttering the cry, "Ah,
ye vagabonds!"
Salvatore Cattaneo cut off his head with a blunt knife, seized hold of
it by the hair, and hastened out with the cry, "Long life to the King of
Spain!" The populace stood there thunderstruck; no sound was heard, but
none detained the murderers, who hurried off. They soon met some small
bands of Spanish soldiers, whom they joined, and exclaiming "Long life
to Spain!" they went on. The Viceroy, accompanied by numerous noblemen,
had just left the castle to go into the park when the news of the
accomplishment of the deed reached him. It is said that he showed his
joy in a way unbecoming his high rank; but Don Francesco Capecelatro,
who was present, only remarks that the news arrived at the moment that
the Duke of Arcos had said he would pay ten thousand ducats to any
person who would bring him Masaniello dead or alive.
The tumult began immediately afterward. The murderers came, bearing the
head upon a pike; boys seized the corpse, dragged it through the
streets, and buried it outside the city walls by the gate which leads to
the market-place. Many best known as partisans of the murdered man
atoned by their lives for their short day of power. His relations were
secured. But still the humor of the people was so little to be trusted
that the Viceroy caused the fortifications to be hastily put in repair.
The news of the deed reached Cardinal Filomarino while on his way from
the Carmine to his own house; he went directly to the palace, and then
rode with the Duke of Arcos and many of the principal nobles to the
cathedral, and from thence through the streets to the market. The armed
troops of people still stood everywhere; they lowered their colors with
the cry, "Long life to the King and the Duke of Arcos!" The privileges
were confirmed and a general pardon proclaimed, from which only
Masaniello's brother and brother-in-law were excluded.
Francesco Antonio continued to be deputy of the people; Giulio Genuino
entered upon his promised office as one of the presidents of the
chamber; on the very same day many of the nobles returned to their
deserted mansions.
The populace was still as if stunned; but as soon as the following
morning, when the price of bread was raised because the
commissary-general of provisions and the bakers declared that it was
quite impossible to subsist upon the hitherto low prices, the humor of
the people suddenly changed. The mob complained that its hero and
deliverer had been given up; they hastened to dig up the corpse; they
sewed the head to the body, washed it, put on it some sumptuous clothes,
and laid it with his bare sword and staff of command upon a bier covered
with white silk; which was borne by the captains Masaniello had
appointed. About four thousand priests conducted the procession by the
order of the Archbishop, who wavered incessantly between the two
parties, and excited more evil than good. The standard-bearers dragged
their banners upon the ground, the soldiers lowered their arms, the dull
sound of muffled drums was heard. Above forty thousand men and women
followed the coffin, some singing litanies, the others telling their
beads. The bells pealed from all the steeples, lights were burning in
all the windows. The procession had left the Carmine at the
twenty-second hour of the day; it did not return till the third hour of
the night. The corpse was lowered into the earth with the usual
ceremonies in the vicinity of the church doors.
Never had a viceroy or a great prince been borne to the grave as was
Tomaso Aniello of Amalfi.
PEACE OF WESTPHALIA
WAR OF THE FRONDE
A.D. 1648
ARTHUR HASSALL
By the arbitrary impositions of the minister, Cardinal Mazarin,
an insurrection was provoked in France whereby Mazarin was
temporarily driven from power. This struggle is sometimes
called the "War of the Fronde," and as an episode in French
history, although productive of little definite result, it has
a dramatic as well as a political interest. It shows the higher
French nobility and the representatives of the people arrayed
against the party of the court during the early minority of
Louis XIV.
"The Fronde" is the name that was given to the anticourt party.
The word _fronde_ means a sling, and the origin of its use as a
party name is attributed to an epigram. Someone is said to have
compared the _Frondeurs_, as the members of the party were
called, to children with slings, who let fly stones and then
hide or run away.
This outbreak followed closely upon the conclusion of the Peace
of Westphalia, which ended the Thirty Years' War. To Mazarin
the great advantages gained by France through that treaty were
mainly due. The whole period is remarkable for its antagonisms
and cross-purposes, and these are brought to view by Hassall
with much subtlety of insight and felicity of observation.
The Peace of Westphalia constitutes an important epoch in the history of
Europe. It marked the close of the struggle in Central and Northern
Europe between the Reformation and Counter-reformation movements, and
the failure of the attempts of Emperor Ferdinand III to form all Germany
into an Austrian and Roman Catholic empire. After the Peace of
Westphalia, commercial rather than religious motives regulated the
policy of the chief states of Europe. But the peace did not merely mark
a revolution in men's ways of thought; it also signalized a remarkable
change in the balance of forces on the Continent. For upward of a
century the Hapsburgs, supreme in Vienna and Madrid, and closely united
by family ties, had threatened to impose their will upon Europe. After
1648 the danger ceased. The weakness of the Emperor and the strength and
independence of the German princes rendered any close union with Spain
impossible, while Spain herself, though she struggled till 1659 against
her impending fate, was already a declining power.
From another point of view, the Peace of Westphalia had a special
interest. It affords an admirable illustration of a successful effort on
the part of the German princes to strengthen their own position at the
expense of the central power. All over Europe the monarchical principle
was being assailed. In Holland the power of the stadtholder depended
entirely on the will of the merchant aristocracy; in England a republic
was shortly to be established; in Italy the revolt of Masaniello seemed
at one time likely to lead to the formation of a Neapolitan government
independent of Spain; and even in Russia aristocratic discontent against
the Czar existed. Thus the movement in France against Mazarin, which
shortly developed into the Fronde struggle, was but one of many similar
manifestations of a general tendency all over Europe to attack
monarchical institutions.
Mazarin was well aware of the impossibility of checking the general
disaffection in France till Austria had been humbled, and therefore he
devoted all his efforts to bringing the war to a successful conclusion.
The actual congress was not opened at Munster till April 10, 1644, and
it was not till the end of 1645 that the negotiations seriously began.
The questions to be settled were many and complicated. France and Sweden
demanded compensations either in land or money; the Elector of
Brandenburg wished to occupy all Pomerania, which the Swedes had seized;
the Elector Palatine demanded restoration to his dominions. Then there
were innumerable questions dealing with the religious situation, the
United Provinces, Italy, Catalonia, Portugal, the constitution of the
empire, and the position of the German princes.
Early in the proceedings Mazarin brought forward France as the protector
of the ancient German liberties, and so secured the friendship of the
imperial towns and the German princes. The Landgrave of Hesse, the
Elector of Trèves, and the Duke of Neuburg readily accepted the
protection of France. It proved impossible to gain the fickle Duke of
Lorraine; it was equally difficult to win over the powerful Elector of
Bavaria. Maximilian I of Bavaria had played an important part in the
Thirty Years' War, but from June, 1644, he began to enter into
periodical negotiations with Mazarin. The cardinal placed no reliance on
these negotiations, which he recognized were meant to sow discord
between France and her allies. Consequently it was not till after the
battle of Nordlingen, followed later by the devastation of his territory
by Turenne, that Maximilian made serious overtures to France. In an
atmosphere of intrigue such as existed at Munster, Mazarin did wisely in
pressing on military operations.