"The Revolution, like Saturn, devours it's children" – Georg Buchner
Tommaso Aniello by Onofrio Palumbo
The Revolt of Naples began on July 7, 1647 when the fruit-vendors of Pozzuoli refused to pay an excessive tax on produce imposed by the Spanish crown. The rebels' leader was Tommaso Aniello d'Amalfi (1620-1647), a poor fisherman from the slums of Vico Rotto al Mercato. During a mock battle between the Neapolitan lazzaroni (lumpenproletariat) and “Saracens” enacted in honor of the upcoming Festa della Madonna del Carmine, Masaniello, as he became known, and his lieutenants dressed in Muslim garb instigated a riot among the participants. Crying, "Long live the king and down with bad government!” they set fire to the hated tax station in Piazza Mercato.
Other disgruntled tradesmen soon joined the insurrection, and like a spark in a tinderbox the revolt quickly spread throughout the province. Reprisals were meted out to the most abusive lords. Amongst those targeted by the mob, was the reviled Don Giuseppe Carafa (d. 1647). Torn to pieces, his mutilated corpse was dragged through the streets. The violence was immortalized in a painting by renowned Neapolitan artist, Domenico Gargiulo, better known as Micco Spadaro (1609-1675).
Appeals were made to King Philip IV of Spain (1605-1665), but money was desperately needed for the war against France. The Spanish Viceroy, Rodrigo Ponce de León (1602-1658), the 4th Duke of Arcos, and his retinue took refuge in the Castel Nuovo. In fear of losing the Kingdom the Duke conceded to the Neapolitans' demands and abolished the tax. Masaniello was elected Capo del Popolo and the riots were momentarily quelled.
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| The murder of Don Giuseppe Carafa by Micco Spadaro |
At first the modest fisherman appeared to be the right choice for leader. When offered a gold chain by the Viceroy, Masaniello graciously refused: "I thank his Excellency, but this is not a thing for me, because, once this business is over I want to go back to selling fish." On another occasion, when a group of curious nobles wished to see the popular leader up-close he reportedly threatened them: "Gentlemen, leave here, otherwise I will have your heads chopped off because I want no other company than simple barefoot people, like myself." [1]
However, after meeting with the Duke of Arcos again, Masaniello soon changed his tune. He began making outlandish demands and behaving irrationally. Mad with power (or, as some believe, from poison) the people's captain was struck down and beheaded on July 16th by his own supporters. His body discarded, Masaniello’s head was impaled on a stake outside the Fosse del grano. Believing the threat was over the Viceroy prematurely revoked his concessions. More rioting ensued and Masaniello's body and head were recovered and given a funeral fit for a hero. "They have become so insolent," complained the Viceroy, "that they took him to be buried that very night according to the rituals that are reserved for deceased generals; and they even took him before the windows of the palace." [2]
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| The Punishment of Thieves at the Time of Masaniello by Micco Spadaro |
Spanish reinforcements soon arrived with another new Viceroy, the Count of Oñate, Iñigo Velez de Guevara y Tassis (1597-1658). Exhausted and without able leadership, the populace offered little resistance to the Spanish tercios. Appeasing the people, the Count of Oñate cut taxes and granted amnesty to the rebels. Predictably, he broke his promise and had the leaders of the revolution, including Gennaro Annese, executed. Henri of Guise remained imprisoned until 1652 before being allowed to return to France.
Thus ended the revolt of Naples.
~ Giovanni di Napoli, July 15th, Feast of Santa Rosalia
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| The Sellaria Fountain in Piazzetta Grande Archivio, Napoli, commemorates the suppression of the Neapolitan revolution by Viceroy Iñigo Velez de Guevara Photo by Andrew Giordano |
Masaniello's Wife
by Ferdinando Russo (1866-1927)
The Spaniards now are back in town,
the good times are finally through;
now the young girls walk forlorn
down Marinella avenue.
And the queen of the eight days
is reduced to being a maid
cares and worries are here to stay
a tax on fruits now must be paid.
That fine dress, all inlaid
with fine silver and with gold,
our good queen has had to trade
for the tattered dress of old.
The splendid crown in gold-wrought lace,
what is now? a crown of thorns!
All the sequins of her necklace
are no longer being worn.
The Spaniards now are back in town
yet more scornful and arrogant,
among the soldiers she is known
as the queen of mendicants.
And they give her a light hit,
and they let word go by,
and they pull her skirt a bit...
All alone, she starts to cry.
Darkened bread and bitter tears,
bitter tears and darkened bread
walk in step and go in pairs
like monks marching in their stead.
From the Palace then she came
behind Borgo and now sells love;
she's acquired a bad name
but it's pain she's dying of!
In the slum of the poor woman
now the regiment is moving;
her good luck is finally gone,
and an evil wind is blowing.
She became so wholly mired
in a hungry and wretched life,
she who once was so admired
as Masaniello's wife. [3]
Notes:
[1] Quotes from Representing the King's Splendour by Gabriel Guarino, Manchester University Press, 2010
[2] Quoted from The Revolt of Naples by Rosario Villari, Polity Press, 1993
[3] Reprinted from Dialect Poetry of Southern Italy edited by Luigi Bonaffini, Legas, 1997
Amended June 10, 2021
[2] Quoted from The Revolt of Naples by Rosario Villari, Polity Press, 1993
[3] Reprinted from Dialect Poetry of Southern Italy edited by Luigi Bonaffini, Legas, 1997
Amended June 10, 2021
