Rhomania’s General Crisis, Part 18.2-Shall the Sword Devour Forever? Part 3:
The one area of the wider Roman world that sees significant shifts in the situation in 1663 is Italy. The anti-Latin pogrom in Constantinople made staying neutral in the Catholic rebellions in Naples and Rome much more difficult for King Joao, with results that quickly become apparent. In June 1663, a battle fleet hove into sight of Civitavecchia, where the Kephale of Rome had retreated after the initial uprising.
The Kephale, Theodoros Lazaros, has held that position in relative security despite no reinforcements and little support given the lack of a rebel navy. Yet while the fleet isn’t that big, it is more than capable of overwhelming his small garrison. A delegation from the fleet under a banner of truce quickly comes ashore to negotiate with the Kephale.
Lazaros isn’t that surprised that the head of the delegation and commander of the fleet is a Spaniard; he had been dreading something like this since he’d read reports of the pogrom in Constantinople. It is a surprise that he knows the man who comes ashore. It is Don Juan del Aguila, who had met the Kephale in 1658 when the Spanish nobleman visited Rome precisely to view the ancient monuments Lazaros had been promoting. Del Aguila had then gone to the diggings in Pompeii for a little excavating of his own, taking a statue and dismantling a wall with artwork to reassemble at his villa near Porto, an act which does not endear him to modern archaeologists.
Del Aguila is very polite but also very firm in his terms. The Kingdoms of Spain and Arles have recognized the Papacy as the rightful rulers of Rome and the surrounding territory of Lazio and are there to ensure the Pope can take up his authority. If the Romans cooperate, he will guarantee safe passage and provide any necessary transport and supply for Lazaros, the garrison, and any Roman civilians who wish to accompany them to Messina. If the Romans do not cooperate, things will be messier.
Lazaros protests at first, arguing that Spain and Arles are supposed to be at peace with the Roman Empire and are supporting rebels, an unfriendly act. But the protest is largely for form’s sake. He recognizes the terrible odds against him and after the massacre of Catholics in Constantinople had expected this kind of demand. Del Aguila recognizes the protest for what it is and additionally makes the argument that, naming conventions aside, the city of Rome itself matters far more to Catholics than it does to the Romans, who have New Rome after all. Lazaros then concedes and agrees to the Spanish terms.
With the fall of Civitavecchia, all Roman or Sicilian power in central Italy has ended. Further south, the situation is more promising. Outside of Campania and Lazio, the other areas of discontent have been stamped down and reorganized and reinforced units are now pushing against Naples, basing out of Apulia. The exploits of Kanaris and Kalomeros have also stung the Constantinople-loyal navy enough that its energies are focused more on Hellas and away from harassing the Italian coast than last year, making it easier and safer to move Sicilian units and supplies by sea. Simultaneously, the Sicilian navy, after losing its forward base last year, has reorganized its effort with a now-tighter blockade of Naples.
This pressure is seriously starting to bite by high summer of 1663, a very hot and dry season that hardly helps to calm nerves in the beleaguered metropolis. Word of the arrival of a Spanish fleet in Sicilian waters and the fall of Civitavecchia boosts morale for a time, but what follows is quite disconcerting.
To be precise, nothing follows. After taking the port, del Aguila does…nothing. He garrisons the port with soldiers and remains on station with his ships to guard the place, but he does not sail south. The Neapolitans, who had been emphasizing the Catholic nature of their revolt in a bid to gain western allies, had been expecting the Spanish to sail south and smash the Sicilian blockade. Del Aguila had enough firepower that a fight between his squadron and the blockade force would have been an even match.
Del Aguila does not move because he has very clear orders from his King; he is to support the revolt in Rome but to provide no aid for the one in Naples. The public outrage over the massacre of foreigners in Constantinople, which included many Spaniards, made it impossible for King Joao to continue sitting on the side as he had. However, his long-term strategy still requires negotiating with the Romans, which means he doesn’t want to push too far and burn a bridge he’ll want to cross later. Supporting the one rebellion and not the other is his effort to reconcile these two impetuses.
There is still movement south from Rome towards Naples. The fall of Civitavecchia did free up rebel forces that had been keeping the Roman garrison contained, while Spanish control of the sea does allow a contingent of Papal mercenaries and associated volunteers to arrive. They are not under Spanish command and so are free to push south in a renewed bid for the two rebellions to link up.
The key to preventing any such linkage is the city of Gaeta, which prior to the rebellions had been on the Sicilian side near the border between the Despotate and the Roman enclave-kephalate centered on the Eternal City. Due to its border location, it has an elaborate and modern system of fortifications designed to guard Naples against attacks from invading armies from the north, armies with considerably more firepower than the one challenging the bulwarks now.
Despite that, Gaeta was vulnerable due to an understrength garrison. But due to the lack of Spanish support, which would’ve provided heavy artillery and naval support the rebel and Papal forces lacked, that does not matter. The garrison is able to concentrate its limited strength on its land defenses, beating off two attacks while being supplied by sea. So long as Gaeta holds, Rome and Naples cannot combine their forces.
As the summer sun beats down on the cobblestones of Naples, the blockade of the city tightens. A few blockade runners still manage to slip through but the need for speed and stealth sharply limit the cargoes while the exorbitant prices they charge for their wares (the incentive to take such risks) exacerbate the angry and hungry discontent of the masses that cannot afford those prices.
With the growing hunger and anger, Masaniello’s hold over the people of Naples is fading. Fine rhetoric doesn’t still an empty belly. Public support is shifting toward the Duke of Maddaloni, Simone Galamini. While his military efforts aren’t stopping the tightening noose this year, his supporters can still conjure up memories of his successes in bringing in foodstuffs last year. It is more than can be said for Masaniello.
On August 20, an actually substantial shipment of grain arrives in Naples overland. Its source is unclear, with partisans of Masaniello and Maddaloni both giving credit to their respective leaders. But millers and bakers are set to work processing the grain, with Masaniello issuing plans for a public rationed distribution of the resulting bread. Maddaloni’s supporters are appalled. This one-time distribution certainly doesn’t solve the food crisis, but it is still a boost they would like to deny to the fishmonger.
On August 24, distribution sites around Naples begin dispensing the rations. The heat is sweltering and the queues are massive. Rumors spread, particularly at the distribution point by the harbor customs house, that there isn’t enough and that those in the back won’t get anything. The queue threatens to turn into a riot. Masaniello rushes down in an effort to keep order, but then people in the crowd start shouting that the reason for the shortage is that Masaniello has been hoarding foodstuffs for himself; the fishmonger doesn’t look like he has been shedding body fat.
Someone then screams “death to the enemy of the people” and lunges at Masaniello. His guards block this man, but it is the spark. The scene erupts into violence as supporters of Maddaloni, embedded in the crowd, attack Masaniello’s entourage and egg on the crowd to join them. (There is debate over whether the initial attacker was an active Maddaloni partisan, or just a frustrated commoner who played into their hands by happenstance.) Masaniello’s entourage, massively outnumbered, is quickly cut to pieces, literally.
Word of Masaniello’s murder spreads rapidly and Maddaloni’s partisans, who had been hoping for such a turnaround, react quickly while their opponents are in shock. By the end of the day, they are in control of all key positions in the city, including the harbor forts, the customs house, and the civic hall. A messenger rushes to the Duke, who hurries to the city to solidify his command over the city.
The Duke has achieved his goal. His upstart fishmonger of an ally has been removed from the scene, leaving him to take charge of the rebellion. He certainly has no truck with any of the proposed changes to the social order Masaniello had championed. The Duke is conservative and likes the pre-rebellion social order, just with the change that it is Catholic and that he is on top as opposed to those Orthodox is Messina.
Masaniello though is not forgotten, his name frequently conjured up in later political dialogues. [1] He is commonly invoked as an example of the danger of riling up the common folk, as mobs tend to be vicious, ungrateful, and unpredictable. He is also cited as a clear reason why one should not empower the common folk, because the common folk are too stupid to know their own interests. If they had, they would’ve dismembered Maddaloni who despised them as rabble instead. More happily, he is also invoked as a reminder of the need to implement needed reforms in advance, lest desperation conjure up a man like him; in this, he shares a similar historical memory to that of his contemporary Konon.
The Duke quickly secures his hold over Naples, helped by some timely events on the front. To the first of these he can claim credit. After appearing in Naples to secure control, he rushes back to the front, taking his opponent by surprise at his quick return and administering a sharp ambush on the Sicilian vanguard which had been pressing forward in his absence. It is hardly decisive, but it is still a morale-boosting victory and a bloody nose that makes the Sicilians more cautious.
The other event cannot be credited to the Duke but its timing is still extremely convenient for him. While Masaniello was being dismembered, Despot Andreas was sending three tourmai across the Adriatic to reinforce Emperor Sophia. She was hoping that if she got reinforcements from Italy, that would free up some units that she could then send to bolster Thrakesia, which needs the support.
However, the convoy is intercepted by units of the Constantinople navy and the transports captured. In retaliation, the Constantinople navy then launches a devastating raid on the lightly guarded coasts of Apulia and Lucania. The blockade of Naples is absorbing most of the Sicilian navy and Despot Andreas is loath to weaken this most-effective weapon, but the raid does draw away land units pressing against Naples to instead shore up coastal defenses.
Naples is still hungry and threatened, but it will clearly still be a hard nut to crack if nothing changes, especially if the Despotate can’t focus on the problem. Things then need to change.
And they will. The year 1663 is the nadir of Rhomania’s General Crisis. Now begins the climb out.
[1] Just like the OTL figure.