the abbreviated name commonly given to Tommaso Aniello, a fisherman born at Amalfi in 1622, who, at the age of twenty-five, became chief of the celebrated revolution in Naples which bears his name. While under Spanish dominion that country was subjected to the greatest misgovernment. The ambition of Philip III. and Philip IV., both of whom required extraordinary funds to carry on the wars of Lombardy and Catalonia, scarcely surpassed the avidity and selfishness of the exacting viceroys employed by them to plunder the Neapolitans. A confused and embarrassed administration; a corrupt magistracy; venal employees who enriched themselves as a reward for other services; an oppressive distribution of taxes, which rendered a system of violence necessary in levying them; a ready compliance with all the arbitrary acts of the nobility, who set the law at defiance and enjoyed a total immunity from all burdens of the state; and last, though not least, an organized system of brigandage, which the government was as powerless and unwilling to check as the nobles were interested in upholding—such was Naples under the vice-regal government of Spain. This state of things, long hateful to the Neapolitan people, reached its height under his excellency the Viceroy Ponce de Leon, Duke d'Arcos. Taxes were multiplied, more especially on the articles of daily consumption; and in 1647 even fruit, which in summer forms almost the only food of a large portion of the populace, did not escape this galling impost. Fish had been taxed a few years before; and the young Masaniello, accustomed, in the exercise of his calling, to dispute with the tax collectors, had, from his fearless dealing with these universally hated functionaries, become a favourite with his own class and with the common people in general. One day when his wife, detected with contraband flour, was imprisoned and fined, he assembled a number of young men, armed them with sticks, and urged them to take advantage of the crowds at the approaching festival of the Madonna del Carmine to make a solemn and public protest against these oppressive taxes. On the 7th of July, however, some country people coming as usual to Naples to sell fruit, were compelled by the tax collectors to pay the duty beforehand. The market people revolted, and one of them, trampling the fruit under his feet, cried out indignantly that he would rather destroy his fruit than submit to such exaction. A crowd assembled, partly from curiosity, anger ensued, and the companions of Masaniello fanned the flame which soon burst forth. The agitation increased by degrees until it became general. The officials, who had prudently retreated, were now panic-struck; still the insurrection wanted a chief; and Masaniello resolved at once to seize the opportunity. He made his way among the crowd, and with a voice that drowned all other sounds, cried, "Away with the tax on fruit! death to bad rulers!" "Away with them!" shouted the multitude; "Long live Masaniello!" In a moment the infuriated mob drove off the functionaries, who were looking on in mute astonishment, burned the tax-collectors' offices, and proceeded to the royal palace to besiege the viceroy, who had, however, already taken refuge in the Castel Nuovo. The people must vent their rage on something; so Masaniello directed that the houses of the nobility should be burned, but threatened death to any who should attempt to abstract a single object from the flames. This order was blindly obeyed. The prisons were thrown open, and one Perrone, who afterwards became Masaniello's civil genius, was set at liberty, together with all the thieves and malefactors of the town. The viceroy sent a messenger, who promised everything; but Masaniello, not satisfied with simple promises, demanded the charter granted by Charles V., prohibiting the imposition of new taxes, except by a special decree from the king. A hundred thousand men were now at the command of the intrepid fisherman, whom they followed and promptly obeyed. A perambulating throne or platform was erected, consisting of a rough high-raised dais, placed on a waggon drawn by four strong horses. On this he sat, sword in hand, the red cap of the fisherman on his head, and dressed in the mean garb of his calling. This simplicity increased the enthusiasm of his followers, and Masaniello found himself the animating soul of thousands. The Cardinal Filomarini, Archbishop of Naples, came as a mediator from the viceroy, and was received with marks of respect. Hopes were entertained that the insurrection would be checked, when the nobles, headed by the Duke of Monteleone, and his brother Prince Caraffa, assembled 200 brigands, and charged them to assassinate Masaniello. Two hundred shots were fired at him while seated on his throne, but, by an extraordinary chance, not one reached him. This inflamed the popular fervour to a degree of fanaticism, while superstition and ignorance were ready with their marvellous explanations. The assassins were seized and executed. None were spared—not even those who denounced their instigators. Two hundred heads, fixed on poles, now bristled round the throne-like erection on which Masaniello, the people's idol, sat. The two noblemen were pursued, but the duke made his escape; while the prince, having fallen into the hands of the mob, was beheaded and quartered; his head, bearing the inscription "Giuseppe Caraffa ribelle e traditore della patria," being Masaniello placed conspicuously among the others. Judicial, regal, administrative powers were all now centred in Masaniello's absolute and single hand. He ordered the nobles to be disarmed, and the people to receive each man a sword, a musket, ample ammunition, and provisions. He established a police, and decreed that all judgments should be referred to him, on which he gave prompt and impartial verdicts.

At last, through the intervention of the Archbishop of Naples, he consented to treat with the viceroy. He now began to despise his red cap and fisherman's dress, and assumed a gaudy attire glittering with silver and gold. The people were amazed when they saw him, thus adorned, head a cavalcade, equally splendid, on his way to the church of the Madonna del Carmine to negotiate a treaty with the viceroy. He styled himself "Capo del Popolo," and with this attribute he altered, modified, and rescinded, as he thought proper; none daring to oppose him. Finally the principal terms were settled:—1st, The total abolition of all the taxes imposed since the time of Charles V.; 2d, Absolute equality of political rights among all classes of citizens; 3d, General amnesty to all who had taken part in the insurrection; 4th, That the Neapolitan people should remain armed till the ratification of the treaty by his Catholic Majesty the King of Spain. He then exacted an oath from the Duke d'Arcos, and turning to the people, declared his mission accomplished, his desires fulfilled, and that henceforth he would follow his trade as a fisherman. Having said these words, he threw off his rich attire, fell at the feet of the viceroy, professed allegiance to the king, love to the people, devotion to his country, and rejected all proffered rewards. This imposing scene called forth the deafening shouts of the multitude that thronged the church, who begged him to retain the authority he had for several days exercised so successfully. The Duke d'Arcos showed him the greatest respect, praised his skill in statesmanship, and, to celebrate the restoration of peace, invited him to a solemn banquet at the royal palace. Masaniello's star now began to wane. His conduct at the banquet was boastful and extravagant, some say showing signs of an unsound mind, caused by overjoy at his success, or, as other historians affirm, by a poisoned drink given him by the viceroy. Masaniello, now arrogant, overbearing, and arbitrary to his fellows, lost that simplicity which had made him their idol. At the close of the fourth day of his power, two hundred thousand men would have given their life for him; on the eighth day there were as many disaffected. The Duke d'Arcos, who had been plotting to bring about this state of things, seeing the moment had now arrived to get rid of the spirited tribune without danger to himself, on the 16th of July placed four men in ambush. They fired upon the unfortunate leader, who fell down dead. Hated as much as he had been loved, his body was insulted even by his old friends. The hired assassins, emboldened by this feeling, showed their zeal by severing his head from his body, and holding it by the hair, presented it to the viceroy, who ordered it to be thrown into the castle moat. One day, however, had scarcely passed when a more natural feeling returned. The greater part of the people deplored the effects of sudden ambition on the mind of their chief, pitied him, wept for his untimely fate, and were ashamed they had not taken immediate revenge on his murderers. His body was exhumed, and with the head joined to it, was placed on a bier, covered with a regal purple robe, a crown of laurel on the brow, a sceptre in the right hand, and amid the solemn tolling of all the church bells it was carried in procession through the twelve districts of the town, followed, according to one historian, by 400,000 people. The viceroy, by a stroke of policy, sent his own pages in state, and ordered that funeral honours should be rendered to the "Capo del Popolo," whose body, after having lain in state several days, was finally buried with all the pomp reserved to men of the highest rank. The Duke d'Arcos, when the popular excitement had subsided, was perfidious enough to persecute numbers of the lower orders who had taken part in the revolution, thus causing the memory of Masaniello to be more than ever regretted. To this day he is held in high esteem by the liberal party of the lazzaroni of Naples, who regard him as the glory of their class, and the standard of popular heroes.

The most complete account of this remarkable episode in history was contained in a manuscript of the Padr Filippini dell' Oratorio in Naples. The monks consented only lately to publish this interesting document. It is entitled "Diario di Francesco Copeclatro contenente la storia delle cose avvenute nel Reame di Napoli negli anni 1647-50, ora per la prima volta messo a stampa, etc dal Marchese Angelo Granito, Napoli, 1854, presso G. Nobile." (v. r.)