CHAPTER VIITHE CAMORRA IN ITALY

We are not Carabinieri,We are not Royalists,But we are Camorrists—The devil take the others!

We are not Carabinieri,

We are not Royalists,

But we are Camorrists—

The devil take the others!

InItaly, when it rains, the man on the street mutters: “Piove! Governo ladro!” (“It rains! Thief of a government!”) Oddly enough, this expression, originally coined by theFanfulla, an influential journal, to ridicule theopponentsof the government, really epitomizes the attitude of the average Italian toward the central authority. It is the vital word spoken in jest. The Italian—and particularly the Italian of the southern peninsula—is against government—any government, all government—on general principles. He and his forefathers went through a grim school, and they have not forgotten.

The Italian, however republican in form his institutions may be, is still the subject of a monarchy, and he has never fully grasped the Anglo-Saxon idea that even a king is subject to the law. In Italy no one thinks of questioning the legality of an arrest. With us, to do so is the first thought that comes. On the Continent, the fact that an act is done by anofficial, by a man in striped trousers, places it above criticism. No matter how obvious an error may havebeen committed, one is inevitably met by the placid assertion: “The government makes no mistakes.” Neither has the idea of the sanctity of personal liberty ever been properly developed. There is nohabeas corpusin Italy. Release on bail is legally possible, but difficult of achievement and little availed of. A man’s house is not “his castle.” The law itself is usually complicated and slow in remedial and criminal matters, and justice is apt to be blind unless the right sort of eye doctor—a deputy or a senator—is called in. Bureaucracy has perpetuated the Italian’s inherited distrust of government and distaste for legal process, and drives him still to seek his ends in many cases by influence, bribery, or—the Camorra.

Rarely can we point to a social phenomenon in this country and say: “This is so because of something a hundred years ago.” With us some one has an idea, and presto! we are recalling judges, pulling down idols, “elevating” women to be sheriffs, and playing golf on Sundays. Where are the gods of yesterday? The pulse of the nation leaps at a single click of the Morse code. An injustice in Oklahoma brings a mass meeting together in Carnegie Hall. But the continuance of the Camorra in Italy to-day is directly due to the succession of tyrants who about a century ago allowed the patriots of Naples and Sicily to rot in prison or hung them up on scaffolds in the public squares.

The Bourbon rule in the “Kingdom of the Two Sicilies”[5]was one of the most despicable in history.In eleven days in 1793 one hundred and twenty professors, physicians, and priests were executed by the public hangman in Naples. This was a mere foretaste of what was coming. When Napoleon dethroned the Bourbons in 1805 and made his brother Joseph “King of Naples,” there dawned an era of enlightenment and reform which continued when Joseph was succeeded by Joachim Murat in 1808; but the Congress of Vienna in 1815 reinstated the old dynasty and recalled Ferdinand I, who had been lurking in Sardinia, to the throne. Then the horrors began again. A period of retrogression, of wholesale persecutions and executions, followed. Never was there anything like the nightmare of bloody politics which lasted through the reigns of Ferdinand I (1825), of Francis I (1830), of Ferdinand II (1859), and of Francis II, until the entry of Garibaldi into Naples in 1860.

The oppressions of the Bourbons and the struggle of the patriots of Italy for freedom and the Risorgimento stimulated secret organization. No other means to combat tyranny was, in fact, possible. To be known to have liberal ideas meant instant arrest, if not death. Under Ferdinand II there had been over twenty thousand political prisoners actually in prison at one time and thirty thousand moreattendibili, confined in their houses.[6]The governor of Genoa complained to Mazzini’s father because the youth “walked by himself at night, absorbed in thought.” Said he: “We don’t like young peoplethinking without knowing the subject of their thoughts.” The great society of the Carbonari had provoked the counter-organization of the Calderoni, and had in turn given way to the “New Italy” of Mazzini. It is said on excellent authority that in 1820 there were seventy thousand persons in the city of Naples alone who belonged to secret societies. In this year we first hear of the Camorra by name, and for the next forty years it spread and flourished until it became so powerful that the government of the “Two Sicilies” had perforce to enter into treaty with it and finally (in 1860) to turn over to it the policing of the city of Naples. Indeed, it may be that some such extra-legal organization was a practical necessity if existence were to be tolerable at all.

Lombroso, in the “Growth of Crime,” writes: “When the royal postal officials were in the habit of tampering with correspondence, when the police were bent on arresting the honest patriots and making use of thieves asagents provocateurs, the necessity of things enhanced the value of the Camorra, which could always have a letter or a packet safely conveyed, save you from a dagger thrust in prison, redeem you a stolen article for a fair sum, or, when quarrels and disputes arose, could get these settled on much more equitable terms and less costly than any one else or indeed the ordinary process of the law.”

This was the heyday of the Camorra as an organization of criminals. Later it developed into something more—a political ring under whose leash the back of southern Italy still quivers.

The Neapolitan Camorra had its origin in Spain. The great Cervantes, in “Rinconeto y Contadillo,” has drawn a marvellous picture of a brotherhood of thieves and malefactors who divided their evil profitswith the police and clergy. This was “La Garduna”—the mother of the Camorra. As early as 1417 it had rules, customs, and officers identical with those of the Camorra of the nineteenth century, and, like it, flourished in the jails, which were practically under its control. Undoubtedly this organization found its way into Sicily and Naples in the wake of the Spanish occupation of the thirteenth century, and germinated in the loathsome prisons of the period until it was ready to burst forth into open activity under the Bourbons.

The wordcamorracomes from the Spanishchamarra(in Italiangamurra, hencetabarra,tabarro), meaning a “cloak” usually affected by thieves and bullies. From this is derived the Spanish wordcamorra, “a quarrel with fists,” and the phrasehacer camorra, fairly translatable as “to look for trouble.” It would be difficult to find any closer definition than this last of the business of the Neapolitan Camorra.

Giuseppi Alongi, a pupil and follower of Lombroso, and one of the principal Italian authorities upon the subject, says concerning the rise of the Neapolitan organization:

“The Camorra certainly had its birth in the prisons of Naples. Old offenders regarded themselves as aristocrats of crime, and behaved as masters in their own households, forming a sort of privileged classwithin the prison. The idea of levying taxes on newcomers came as natural to them as that among soldiers of calling upon the recruit to ‘pay his footing.’ That the Neapolitan Camorra is so mixed up with religion is due to the fact that the local criminal unites ferocity with religious superstition, while the amazing devotion of the population to ‘Our Lady of Mount Carmel,’ who is venerated as the symbol of maternal love, offers an easy means of exploiting their credulity. It became the custom, therefore, to exact tolls from the people, under the pretence that they were intended for religious purposes. The Camorrists have four hundred feasts every year, and the Church of Mount Carmel in Naples is still their religious centre.”

In the days from 1820 to 1860, to be a Camorrist was a matter of pride and a rare distinction among the baser sort. So far from concealing his membership in it, the Camorrista vaunted it abroad, even affecting a peculiar costume which rendered him unmistakable. A red necktie, the loose ends of which floated over either shoulder, a parti-colored sash, and a cane heavily loaded with brass rings, marked him as a “bad man” during this romantic period. But, however picturesque it may have been, the Camorra soon became the most dreaded and loathsome secret society in the world.

Only those could become members who had shown their preference for themala vitaand given tangible evidence of their criminality. Candidates who had qualified for the novitiate proved their suitability forthe next grade by performing some brutal act, such as slitting an old man’s throat from ear to ear.

The business of the Camorra was organized extortion, assisted by murder and violence. The Camorrist was a bully—one who could use the knife. In this he was instructed until he became a master in artistic stabbing with a fair knowledge of anatomy. Various styles of knives were used for different purposes: thesettesoldi, for scarring and unimportant duelling among members; the’o zumpafuosso, or deadly official knife, for the “jumping duel”; thetriangolofor murders, etc. The actual slashing was usually done not by the Camorrist himself, but by some aspirant to membership in the society who desired to give proof of his virtue, and who, rather as a favor, was permitted to take all the chances. Accordingly the “honored” youth selected the right knife and lay in wait for his victim, assisted by apalo, or “stall,” who gave warning of danger and perhaps arranged for the victim to stumble just as the blow was to be struck. Secret signals facilitated matters. Even to-day, the American in Naples who is not “afraid to go home in the dark” had best hasten his steps if he hears near by the bark of a dog, the mew of a cat, the crow of a cock, or a sneeze, any one of which does not carry conviction as to its genuine character. These are all common Camorrist signals of attack; while popular tunes such as “Oi ne’, traseteve, ca chiora!” (“Go in, for it rains!”) are warnings of the approach of danger.

The Camorra levied blackmail upon all gamblingenterprises, brothels, drivers of public vehicles, boatmen, beggars, prostitutes, thieves, waiters, porters, marketmen, fruit-sellers, small tradesmen, lottery winners, and pawnbrokers, controlled all the smuggling and coined bogus money; and the funds thus secured were divided among (1) the police, (2) the members in jail, (3) the aged, (4) widows and orphans of those who had died in the cause of crime, (5) the higher officers, (6) whatever saint or shrine it was desired to propitiate, and (7) the “screenings” went to the men who did the dirty work.

The Camorrists made use of picture signs for names, and a secret symbolism to express their meanings, written or spoken. They also had an argot, or dialect, which has impressed itself upon the language of the entire lower class of Naples. All criminals have a jargon of their own, often picturesque, frequently humorous, and the slang of the Camorrist differed little from that of other associations of crooks here and elsewhere, save in its greater volume. Much of the Camorrist vocabulary has passed into common use, and it is difficult to determine now what words are of strictly Camorristic origin, although the following are supposed to be so:

Freddare, “to turn a man cold” (to kill).Agnello, “lamb” (victim).Il morto, “the dead one” (one robbed).La Misericordia, “Compassion” (combination knife and dagger).Bocca, “mouth” (pistol).Tric-trac(revolver).Sorci neri, “black rats” (night patrol).Asparago,[7]“asparagus” (a gendarme who has been tricked—“a stiff”).Si accolla, “he sticks to it” (he shoulders the others’ crime).

Freddare, “to turn a man cold” (to kill).

Agnello, “lamb” (victim).

Il morto, “the dead one” (one robbed).

La Misericordia, “Compassion” (combination knife and dagger).

Bocca, “mouth” (pistol).

Tric-trac(revolver).

Sorci neri, “black rats” (night patrol).

Asparago,[7]“asparagus” (a gendarme who has been tricked—“a stiff”).

Si accolla, “he sticks to it” (he shoulders the others’ crime).

In all there are said to be about five thousand words in the Camorrist vocabulary; but a large number of these are simply Neapolitan slang, for inventing which every Neapolitan has a gift.

No more interesting example of this slang has ever come to light than in the secret diary of Tobia Basile (nicknamed “Scarpia Leggia”) who, after serving thirty years in prison, returned to the haunts of men to teach thepicciottithe forms and ceremonies of the society and to instruct them in its secret language. This strange old man, more literate than most Camorrists, kept a diary in the ancient symbolism of the brotherhood. Having become bored by his wife he murdered her, walled her body up in the kitchen, and recorded what he had done, thus:

May 1, “The violets are out.”May 7, “Water to the beans.”June 11, “I have pruned my garden.”Aug. 10, “How beautiful is the sun.”Sept. 12, “So many fine sheep are passing.”

May 1, “The violets are out.”

May 7, “Water to the beans.”

June 11, “I have pruned my garden.”

Aug. 10, “How beautiful is the sun.”

Sept. 12, “So many fine sheep are passing.”

Time passed, and a contractor, rebuilding the wall, came upon the corpse. Tobia denied his guilt, but his diary was found, as well as a Camorrist translator. “Water to the beans.” That beautiful metaphor was shown to mean naught else but “I have killed and buried her!” And in the face of his own diaryTobia admitted the accuracy of his record. “Water to the beans!”

The first grade of aspirants to the Camorra was that of thegarzone di mala vita, or “apprentice,” who was practically a servant, errand-boy, or valet for his masters or sponsors, and was known as agiovine onorato, or honored youth. The second grade was that of thepicciotti sgarro, or novice, originally difficult of attainment and often requiring from six to ten years of service. The third or final stage was that of thecapo paranza, head of a local gang, or “district leader.”

The society was divided into twelve centres, corresponding to the twelve quarters of the city of Naples, each centre being, in turn, subdivided intoparanzeand having a separate or individual purse. The chief of eachparanzawas elected, and was the strongest or boldest man in the gang. In earlier days he combined the office of president, which carried with it only the limited authority to call meetings, with that of cashier, which involved the advantage of being able to divide thecamorra, or proceeds of crime. The leader was entitled himself to thesbruffo, a percentage due by “right of camorra”; and this percentage belongs to-day in every case to the Camorrist who has planned or directed the particular crime involved. The leaders of the twelve divisions met, just as they occasionally donow, to discuss affairs of vital importance, but in most matters the individual sections were autonomous.

According to the confession of an old Camorrist,the lowest grade of the society was attained by the following rite:

A general meeting of the district was called, at which the sponsor formally introduced the candidate to the gathering. The leader stood in the midst of his fellow Camorrists, all of whom were drawn up in a circle according to seniority. If the treasurer was present the president had three votes, and the assembly was known in Camorrist slang as beingcap’ in trino—three in one: if absent, the society was known ascap’ in testa, which means “the supreme triad.” All stood perfectly motionless, with arms folded across their breasts and with bowed heads. The president, addressing the neophyte, said:

“Knowest thou the conditions and what thou must do to become an honored youth? Thou wilt endure misfortune upon misfortune, thou wilt be obliged to obey all the orders of the novices and the solemnly professed, and bring them useful gains to furnish them with useful service.”

To this the neophyte replies:

“Did I not wish to suffer adversities and hardships, I should not have troubled the society.”

After a favorable vote on the admission of the candidate, he was led forward and permitted to kiss each member once upon the mouth. The president he kissed twice. Certain favors were then asked of the assembly by the neophyte, and the president made reply:

“The favors asked shall be accorded according to our rules. Our terms of membership are these:

“First: That thou go not singing or rowing or brawling in the public streets.

“Secondly: That thou respect the novices and whatsoever instructions they may give thee.

“Thirdly: That thou obey whole-heartedly our professed members and carry out their commissions.”

After a few tests of the candidate he was handed over to the “novice master,” a full-fledged member under whom he was to serve his term of probation. The period of his apprenticeship depended upon the zeal, ability, and ready obedience which he displayed in the course of it. He was absolutely at the mercy of his master, and if so commanded he must substitute himself for another and take the latter’s crimes upon his own shoulders; but one who thus made of himself a “martyr” was promoted to a higher grade in the society.

Promotion to such higher grades involved stricter examination and the Camorrist admonition:

“Shouldst thou see even thine own father stab a companion or one of the brethren, thou art bound to defend thy comrade at the cost of stabbing or wounding thy father; and God help thee shouldst thou traffic with traitors and spies!”

Standing with one foot in the galleys and the other in the grave (symbolically), he swore to kill anybody, even himself, should that be the wish of the society. The kissing ceremony was then renewed, and the candidate was initiated fully into the secrets of the organization. The number of weapons in the possession of the Camorra was revealed to him, the namesof brethren under the ban of suspicion, the names of all novices and postulants, as well as the society password and the code of recognition signs.

These points of ritual passed, the candidate was then ready for the blood ceremony, which consisted in tasting the blood of each member of the assembly, drawn from a small knife-wound made for the purpose, and finally the combat. For this necessary part of the ceremony of initiation, the candidate was required to select an opponent from the assembly. The champions then chose their daggers, picked their seconds, unshirted themselves—and the fight was on. It was a rule that they must aim only at the muscles of the arm, and the president, acting ascapo di tiranta(master of combat) was there to see that the rule was obeyed. At the first drawing of blood the combat was over, and the victor was brought forward to suck the blood of the wound and embrace his adversary. If the newly promoted member happened to be the loser, he had to resume the fight later on with another champion; and not until he had won in a test was he definitely “passed” and “raised.”

Many other bloody tests have been attributed to this ceremony of the Camorra; but these, as well as the foregoing in its strict form, have been largely done away with, except in the prisons, where the society still retains its formality. There remained, as a final step in the ritual of initiation, the tattooing of two hearts joined together with two keys. “Men of honor ought to have heart enough for two people, that is to say, have a large heart; men bound onlyto their colleagues and whose heart is closed as it were with a double key to all others.” Sometimes a spider took the place of the hearts, symbolizing the industry of the Camorrist and the silence with which he weaves the web around his victim. This tattooing is still customary among Camorrists.

The usual Camorrist tribunal consisted of a committee of three members belonging to the district organization, presided over by the Camorrist of highest rank among them, and settled ordinary disputes and punishments. From this there was an appeal in more important matters to the central committee of twelve. This latter body elected a supreme head for the entire society, and passed on matters of general policy. It also sat as a court of original and final jurisdiction in cases of treachery to the society, such as betraying its secrets or embezzling its funds, imposed the death penalty, and appointed the executioners. Its decrees were carried out with blind obedience, although not infrequently the death sentence was commuted to that of disfiguration.

Such, then, was the society which in 1820 already controlled the prisons, dealt in assassination and robbery, levied blackmail upon all classes, trafficked in every sort of depravity, and had a rank and file upon which its leaders could absolutely rely. It had no political creed, nor did it interest itself in anything except crime. It had greater solidarity than the police, which was almost equally corrupt. Dreaded by all, it was utilized by all, for it could do that which the police could not do.

The city officials of Naples had a very tender regardfor the feelings of “the brethren of the dagger.” In 1829 certain reformers proposed building a wall around a notoriously evil street, so that at night, under lock and key, the inhabitants could be properly “segregated.” But the Camorra did not take kindly to the suggestion, and a letter was left with the functionary in charge of the matter:[8]

Naples, September, 1829.Sir:Are you not aware that in confining these poor girls in walls you act as if they were condemned to the lowest depths of hell? The prefect of police and the intendant who ordered this brutal act have no heart.... We are here who have much heart and are always ready to shed our own blood for them, and to cut the throats of those who shall do anything toward walling up that street. With all humility we kiss your hands.N. N.

Naples, September, 1829.

Sir:

Are you not aware that in confining these poor girls in walls you act as if they were condemned to the lowest depths of hell? The prefect of police and the intendant who ordered this brutal act have no heart.... We are here who have much heart and are always ready to shed our own blood for them, and to cut the throats of those who shall do anything toward walling up that street. With all humility we kiss your hands.

N. N.

The street was not walled up, the prefect of the police discovering that he had too much heart.

Having no politics, the Camorrists became, as it were, Hessians in politico-criminal activity. They were loyal only to themselves, their favorite song being:

“Nui non simmmo gravanari,Nui non simmo realisti,Ma nui simmo Camorristi,Cuffiano a chilli’ e a chisti!”(We are not Carabinieri,We are not royalists,But we are Camorrists—The devil take the others!)

“Nui non simmmo gravanari,

Nui non simmo realisti,

Ma nui simmo Camorristi,

Cuffiano a chilli’ e a chisti!”

(We are not Carabinieri,

We are not royalists,

But we are Camorrists—

The devil take the others!)

Under the Bourbons the police recognized and used the Camorra as their secret agents and granted its members immunity in return for information and assistance. Both preyed on the honest citizen, and existed by extortion and blackmail. “The government and the Camorra hunted with one leash.” Yet, because the police were regarded as the instruments of despotism, the people came to look upon the Camorrists (who, technically at least, were hostile to authority) as allies against tyranny. It was at this period of Italian history that the present distrust of government and distaste for law had its rise, as well as the popular sympathy for all victims of legal process and hatred for all who wear the uniform of the police. The Camorra still appeals to the dread of tyranny in the heart of the south Italian to which in large measure, by its complicity, it contributed. Thus the love of liberty was made an excuse for traffic with criminals; thus was fostered theomertà, the perverted code of honor which makes it obligatory upon a victim to shield his assassin from the law; and thus was born the loathing of all authority which still obtains among the descendants of the victims of Ferdinand’s atrocious system, which, whatever their origin, gave themala vita—brigandage, the Mafia, and the Camorra—their virulence and tenacity.

In 1848 the Camorra had become so powerful that Ferdinand II actually negotiated with it for support; but the society demanded too much in return and the plan fell through. On this account the Camorra threatened to bring on a revolution! In this it wasnot successful, but it now began openly to affect revolutionary ideas and pretend to be the friend of liberty, its imprisoned members posing as patriots, victims of tyranny.

Thus it gained enormously in prestige and membership, while the throne became less and less secure. Ferdinand II granted a general amnesty in order to heighten his popularity, and the Camorrists who had been in jail now had to be reckoned with in addition to those outside. In 1859 Ferdinand died and Francis II seated himself on the quaking throne. His prefect of police, Liborio Romano, whom history has accused of plotting the Bourbon overthrow with Garibaldi and of playing both ends against the middle, had either perforce or with malice prepense conceived the scheme of harnessing the Camorra by turning over to it the maintenance of order in the city. The police had become demoralized and needed rejuvenating, he said. Francis II thereupon had another jail delivery, and “Don Liborio” organized a “National Guard” and enlisted throngs of Camorrists in it, while in the gendarmerie he recruited thepicciottias rank and file and installed the regular Camorrists as brigadiers.

Then came the news that Garibaldi was marching upon Naples. Romano, still ostensibly acting for the best interests of his royal master, urged the latter’s departure from the capital. The revolution was coming. In some indefinable way, people who were for the Bourbons yesterday saw to-day the impossibility of the continuance of the dynasty. Thecat was ready to jump, but it had not jumped yet. Whatever may have been Romano’s real motives so far as the Bourbons were concerned, the fact remains that his control over the national militia and police, during the days and nights just prior to the departure of the King and the arrival of Garibaldi, resulted in a vigilance on their part which protected property and maintained an order otherwise impossible.[9]Garibaldi at last arrived, with Romano’s Camorrist police on hand to cheer loudly for “Victor Emmanuel and Italy United!” and to knock on the head or stick a knife into the gizzard of any one who seemed lukewarm in his reception of the conquering hero. The cat jumped—assisted by the Camorra. The liberals were in, and with them the Camorrists, as the saying is, “with both feet.” Thus, perhaps for the first time in history, was a society of criminals recognized officially by the government and intrusted with the task of policing themselves.

From 1860 on the Camorra entered upon a new phase, a sort of duplex existence, having on the one hand its old criminal organization (otherwise known as theCamorra bassa) and on the other a group of politicians or ring with wide-spread ramifications, closely affiliated with the society and dealing either directly with it or through its more influential and fashionable members, much as a candidate for office in New York might have secured the support of the “Paul Kelly Gang” through the offices of the politician under whose patronage it existed. This “smartset” and the ring connected with it was known as theCamorra altaorCamorra elegante, and from the advent of Garibaldi to the present time the strictly criminal operations of the society have been secondary in importance to its political significance. Its members became not merely crooks, but “protected” crooks, since they gave office to men who would look after them in return, and the result was the alliance of politics and crime in the political history of Southern Italy during the last fifty years.

It is hardly likely that foxy old “Don Liborio” anticipated any such far-reaching result of his extraordinary manœuvre with the Camorra. It was not many weeks, however, before the Camorrists who had been given public office and continued under Garibaldi, began to show themselves in their true colors, and to use every opportunity for blackmail and private vengeance. They had been given charge of the octroi, or taxes levied at the city gates, and these decreased, under Salvatore di Crescenza, from forty thousand to one thousand ducats per day. Another Camorrist collector, Pasquale Menotte, had the effrontery to turn in, on one occasion, the princely sum of exactly four cents. It became absolutely necessary to get rid of them at any cost, and to drive them out of the police and army, which they now permeated. Mild measures were found insufficient, and as early as 1862 a raid was conducted by the government upon the organization—Sparenta, the Minister of Police, arresting three hundred Camorrists in one day. But he accomplished little. From thistime on until 1900 the history of the Camorra is that of a corrupt political ring having a standing army of crooks and rascals by means of which to carry out its bargains.

During this period many serious attempts were made to exterminate it, but practically to no purpose. In 1863 another fruitless series of raids filled the jails of Naples, and even of Florence and Turin, with its members; but the society continued to flourish—less openly. The resignation of Nicotera as Prime Minister in 1876 was followed by a burst of activity among the Camorrists, but in 1877 the government made a serious effort to put down the Mafia in Sicily, while in 1880 the murder of Bonelli in a foul dive of the Camorra in Naples resulted in the prosecution of five Camorrists for his murder. The trial, like that of 1911–12, took place, for reasons of safety, at Viterbo. The witnesses testified freely upon every subject save the Camorra, and could not be induced to suggest that the assassination had been the result of a conspiracy. “The word Camorra seemed to burn their tongues.” The jury were so impressed by the obvious terror which the society inspired in the Neapolitans that they found all the five—Esposito, Romano, Tiniscalchi, Langella, and Trombetta—guilty, and they were sentenced to forced labor in the galleys.

Apparently there was a sort of renaissance of the Camorra about 1880, at the death of Victor Emmanuel II, and under the new administration of Humbert it began to be increasingly active in politicalaffairs. At this time theCamorra altaincluded lawyers, magistrates, school-teachers, holders of high office, and even cabinet ministers. The writer does not mean that these men went through the rites of initiation or served an apprenticeship with the knife, but the whole villainous power of the Camorra was at their backs, and they utilized it as they saw fit.

The “Ring,” affiliated as it is with the leaders of the society, is still the most dangerous manifestation of the Camorra. Historically, it is true, it was known as thealta CamorraorCamorra elegante, but in ordinary parlance these terms are generally used to describe Camorrists more closely related to the actual district organizations, yet of a superior social order—men who perhaps have graduated from leadership into the more aristocratic if equally shady purlieus of crime. These handle the elections and deliver the vote, own a gambling-house or two, or even more disreputable establishments, select likely victims of society’s offscourings for blackmail, and act as go-betweens between the Ring and the organization. They also furnish the influence when it is needed to get Camorrists out of trouble, and mix freely in the fast life of Naples and elsewhere. The power of the Ring reached its climax in 1900.

In return for the services of theCamorra bassain electing its deputies to office, the government saw to it that the criminal activities of the society were not interfered with. Prefects who sought to do their duty found themselves removed from office or transferred to other communes, and the blight of the Camorrafell upon Parliament, where it controlled a number of deputies from the provinces of “Capitanata”; all governmental interference with the Camorra was blocked, and Italian politics weltered in corruption.

Upon the assassination of King Humbert, in 1900, the situation in Naples was as bad as that of New York City in the days of the Tweed Ring. The ignorant Neapolitans sympathized with the Camorrists as against the police, and voted as they were directed. Almost all the lower classes were affiliated in some indirect way with the society, much as they are in New York City with Tammany to-day. The Ring absolutely controlled all but three of the newspapers published in the city. The lowest depths had been reached in every department of municipal and provincial administration, and even the hospitals and orphan asylums had been plundered to such an extent that there was nothing left for the thieves to get away with.

At this crisis the Socialist newspaper,La Propaganda, courageously sprang to the attack of the communal administration, in the persons of the Syndic Summonte and the Deputy Casale, who, smarting under the lash of its excoriation, brought an action of libel against its editor. Heretofore similar attacks had come to nothing, but the facts were so notorious that Summonte evaded service and abandoned his associate, and Casale, facing the necessity of explaining how he could support a luxurious establishment on no salary, endeavored to withdraw the action.The Public Minister himself announced that no witnesses need be summoned for the defense, and publicly expressed his indignation that a governmental officer, Commendatore F. S. Garguilo, Sustituto Procuratore Generale of the Court of Cassation in Naples, should have accepted a retainer for Casale. The tribunal handed down a decision finding that the facts asseverated byLa Propagandawere fully proved and, referring to the influence of Casale, said: “The immorality thence emanating is such as to nauseate every honest conscience, and to affirm this in a verdict is the commencement of regeneration.”

This was, indeed, the commencement of a temporary regeneration. Casale was forced to resign his seat in Parliament and in the provincial council. The entire municipal council resigned, and, amid the roarings of the Neapolitan Camorrist press, the president of the Council of Ministers, Senator Saracco, proposed and secured a royal commission of inquiry of plenipotentiary powers, with a royal commissioner to administer the commune of Naples. The report of this commission, in two volumes of nine hundred pages each, draws a shocking picture of municipal depravity, in which Casale appeared as recommending criminals to public office, selling places for cash, and holding up payments to the city’s creditors until he had been “seen.” He was proved to have received thirty thousand lire for securing a subsidy for a steamship company, and sixty thousand lire for getting a franchise for a street railway. It appeared that the corruption in the educational departments passeddescription, that concessions were hawked about to the highest bidder, and that in one deal—the “Scandalous Loan Contract,” so-called—five hundred thousand lire had been divided between Scarfoglio, Summonte, Casale, and Delieto. This Scarfoglio, the editor ofIl Matino, and the cleverest journalist in Naples, was exposed as the Ring’s intermediary, and his wife, the celebrated novelist, Matilde Serao, was demonstrated to have been a trafficker in posts and places. The trial and exposures created a furore all over Italy. The Prime Minister refused to continue the Royal Commission and announced a general election, and, amid the greatest excitement, the Camorra rallied all its forces for its final struggle in politics. But the citizens of Naples had had enough of the Ring for the time being, and buried all the society’s candidates under an avalanche of votes. This was the severest blow ever dealt to the political influence of the Camorra.

The Casale trial marks the last stage of the Camorra’s history to date. America has had too many “rings” of her own to care to delve deeply into the slime of Italian politics. The Camorra regularly delivers the votes of the organization to governmental candidates, and exerts a powerful influence in the Chamber of Deputies. It still flourishes in Naples, and continues in a somewhat modified form its old formalities and festivities; but its life is hidden and it works in secret. The solidarity of the organization has yielded to a growing independence on the part of local leaders, whose authority is often usurped bysome successfulbasista(burglary planner). The bigcoupsbecome fewer as the years go on, the “stakes” for which the criminal game is played smaller and smaller.

Police Inspector Simonetti, who had many years’ experience in Naples, gave evidence before the Viterbo Assize on June 8, 1911, as follows:

“The Camorra truly exists at Naples, and signifies violence and absolutism. Formerly it had severe laws and iron regulations, and all the gains derived from criminal undertakings were divided among all the leaders. There was blind, absolute obedience to the chiefs. In a word, the Camorra was a state within a state.

“To-day this collectivism, this blind obedience, exists no longer. All the Camorrists respect one another but they act every man for himself.

“The Camorra exerts its energies in divers ways. The first rung in the Camorrist ladder is the exploitation of one or more women; the second, the horsefair sales and public auctions of pawned goods. The Camorrists go to these latter with the special object of frightening away all would-be non-Camorrist buyers. Usury constitutes another special source of lucre, and at Naples is exercised on a very large scale. The Camorrist begins by lending a sum of five francs, at one franc per week interest, in such fashion that the gain grows a hundredfold, so that the Camorrist who began with five-franc loans is able to lend enormous sums to noblemen in need of funds. For instance, the Camorrist loans ten thousand lire, but exacts areceipt for twenty thousand lire, and gives goods in place of money, these goods being subsequently bought back at low prices by the selfsame usurers. Another great industry of the Neapolitan Camorra is the receipt of stolen goods; practically all the receivers of such in Naples are members of the Camorra.”

Governor Abbate, who for thirty years past has been chief warder of the prisons at Pozzuoli near Naples (the ancient Puteoli at which St. Paul sojourned for seven days on his way to Rome), gave evidence before the Viterbo Assize on June 13, 1911:

“In the course of my thirty years’ experience I have had the worst scum of the Neapolitan Camorra pass through my hands. I have never met a gentleman nor an individual capable of speaking the truth among them. I have never been without a contingent of Camorrists in my prison. I always follow the system adopted in most other Italian prisons of putting all the Camorrist prisoners together in a pack by themselves. When new inmates come, they spontaneously declare if they be Camorrists, just as one might state his nationality or his religion. I group them accordingly with the rest of their fellows. They know they will be so treated; and unless we follow this system a perfect inferno of terrorism ensues. The Camorrists seize the victuals, the clothes and underwear of the non-Camorrist inmates, whom, in fact, they despoil in every way imaginable.

“I come to learn the grades of my Camorrist prisoners inasmuch as Camorrists, probationers, freshmen,and the rank and file, show studious obedience to their seniors and chiefs, whom they salute with the title of ‘master.’”

The Camorrist, in addition to exploiting women, still levies toll on boatmen, waiters, cab-drivers, fruit-sellers, and porters, and, under guise of protecting the householder from the Camorrists, extorts each week small sums from the ordinary citizen. The meanest work of these “mean thieves” is the robbing of emigrants about to embark, from whom they steal clothing and money and even the pitiful little packages of food they have provided for the voyage.

A grade higher (or lower) are the gangs of burglars or thieves whose work is directed and planned, and the tools and means for which are furnished by apadroneorbasista. These will also do a job of stabbing and face-slashing at cut rates or for nothing to oblige a real friend of the “Beautifully Reformed Society.”

More elevated in the social scale is the type of Professor Rapi or Signor de Marinis, theCamorrista elegante, who on the fringe of society watches his chance to blackmail a society woman, “arrange” various private sexual matters for some nobleman, or cheat a drunken aristocrat at the gaming-tables.

Last, there is the traffic in the elections, which has been so advantageous to the government in the not distant past that its ostentatious attempts to drive out the Camorra, made in response to public demand, have usually been half-hearted, if not blatantly insincere.

Yet the traditions of the Camorra still obtain, and in many of the prisons its influence is supreme. Witness the deadly duel between twelve Camorrists and twelve Mafiusi in 1905 in the Pozzuoli penitentiary, in which five men were killed and the remainder had to be torn apart at the muzzles of the infantry. Witness also, and more strikingly, the trial and execution of Lubrano, who, confined in jail with other Camorristi, betrayed their secrets. In formal session behind prison walls, the “brothers” sentenced him to death, and he was stabbed by apicciotto, who was thereupon “raised” to the highest grade of the society.

The Camorrists still turn out in force for their religious holidays, and visit Monte Vergine and other shrines in gala costume, accompanied by their women. Drunken rioting, debauchery, and knifings mark the devotions of this most religious sect. But they are a shoddy lot compared to the “bravos” of the last century. At best, they are a lot of cheap crooks—“pikers” compared to a first-class cracksman—pimps, sharpers, petty thieves, and dealers in depravity, living off the proceeds of women and by the blackmail of the ignorant and credulous.

It would be ridiculous to deny that the Camorra exists in Naples, but it would be equally absurd to claim that it has the picturesqueness or virility of ancient times. Yet it is dreaded by all—by the Contessa in her boudoir, by the manager of the great trans-oceanic line, by theragazzoon the street. The inquiry of the traveller reveals little concerning it.One will be confidently told that no such society or sect any longer exists, and with equal certainty that it is an active organization of criminals in close alliance with the government. Then, suddenly, some trifling incident occurs and your eyes are opened to the truth, at first hardly realized, that the crust of modern civilization is, in the case of southern Italy, superimposed upon conditions of life no more enlightened than they were a thousand years ago, and that hatred and distrust of government, ignorance, bigotry, and poverty make it a field fertile for any sort of superstition or belief, be it in the potency of the pulverized bones of young children for rheumatism, the efficacy of a stuffed dove sliding down a wire as a giver of fat harvest, or the deadly power of the Camorra. And where several million people believe in and fear the Camorra, if for no other reason, the Camorra or something akin to it is bound to exist.

Before long you will begin to find out things for yourself. You may have your watch filched from your waistcoat pocket, and you may perhaps get it back through the agency of a shabby gentleman—introduced by the hotel porter—who, in spite of his rough exterior and threadbare clothing, proves marvellously skilful in tracing the stolen property—for a consideration.

You may observe that sometimes, when you take a cab, a mysterious stranger will spring up beside the driver and accompany you to your destination. This is the “collector” for the Camorra—the parasite that feeds on every petty trade and occupation in the city.For the boatman shares his hire with a man who loiters on the dock; the porter gives up a soldo or two on every job; and the beggar divides with the Camorra the profit fromla misericordia.[10]Last of all, you may stumble into one of the quarters of Naples where the keeping of order is practically intrusted to the Camorra; where the police do not go, save in squads; and where each householder or dive-keeper pays a weekly tax to the society for its supposed “protection,” part of which goes higher up—to some “delegato” or “commissary” of the “P. S.”[11]

Or you may enter into the Church of Santa Maria del Carmine and find a throng of evil-faced men and women worshipping at the shrines and calling for the benediction of the Holy Trinity upon their criminal enterprises. It is said that sometimes they hang votive offerings of knives and daggers upon the altars, and religiously give Heaven its share out of the proceeds of their crimes, much as some of our own kings of finance and merchant princes, after a lifetime of fraud and violation of law, will seek to salve their consciences and buy an entrance to Paradise by founding a surgical hospital or endowing a chair of moral philosophy. But until, by chance, you meet a Camorrist funeral, you will have no conception of the real horror of the Camorra, with its procession of human parasites with their blinking eyes, their shuffling gait, their artificial sores and deformities, all crawling from their holes to shamble in the trailof the hearse that carries a famousbasista, acapo paranze, or acapo in testato his grave.

It is undoubtedly a fact that ease of living, which generates indolence, induces moral laxity, and a society composed in part of a hundred thousand homeless people, so poor that a few soldi represent a feast or a festival, who sleep in alleys, on the wharves, in the shrubbery of parks, or wherever night finds them, is a fertile recruiting ground for criminals. The poverty of the scum of Naples passes conception. Air and sky, climate and temperature, combine to induce a vagabondage which inevitably is hostile to authority. The strong bully the weak; the man tyrannizes the woman; thepadroneeasily finds a ragged crew eager to do his bidding for a plate of macaroni and a flask of unspeakable wine; a well-dressed scoundrel becomes a demi-god by simple virtue of his clothes and paste-diamond scarf-pin; the thief that successfully evades the law is a hero; and the crook who stands in with the police is a politician and a diplomat. The existence of the Camorra in its broad sense turns, not on the vigor of the government or the honesty of the local functionaries, so much as on the conditions of the society in which it is to be found.

Such is a glimpse of the Camorra, past and present, which, with its secret relations to the police, its terrors for the superstitious and timid, its attraction for the weak and evil-minded, its value to the politicians, its appeal to the natural hatred of the southern Italian for law and government, will continue so long as social conditions in Naples remainthe same—until reform displaces indifference and incapacity, and education[12]and religion effectively unite to lift the Neapolitans out of the stew of their own grease. This is the sociological key to the Camorra, forcamorrameans nothing but moral delinquency, and moral delinquency is always the companion of ignorance, superstition, and poverty. These last are the three bad angels of southern Italy.

For the reasons previously stated it is not surprising that the disclosures of 1900 had little or no permanent effect upon the criminal activities of the Camorra. The Ring and the politicians had, it is true, received a severe shock, but the minor criminals had not been affected and their hold on the population remained as strong as ever. Soon the Camorrists became as active at the elections, and the authorities as complacent, as before, and after a spasmodic pretence at virtue the “Public Safety” relapsed into its old relations to the organization.[13]

The leaders of the new “Beautifully Reformed Society” were reported to be Giovanni Rapi, a suave and well-educated gambler, the Cashier of the organization and its chief adviser, surnamed “The Professor” for having once taught modern languages in the public schools, at one and the same time a member of both the high and the low Camorra, and an international blackleg; Enrico Alfano, popularly known as “Erricone,” the reorganizer of the societyand its “Supreme Head,” the boss of all the gangs, a fearless manipulator of elections, a Camorrist of the new order—of the revolver instead of the knife, the confidant of his godfather, Don Ciro Vittozzi,—the third of the criminal triumvirate, the most mediæval of all these mediæval figures, and the Machiavelli of Naples.

Known as the “Guardian Angel” or “Confessor” of the Camorra, this priest was chaplain of the Naples Cemetery, and as such was accused of unsavory dealings of a ghoulish nature,[14]but he exerted wide power and influence, had the ear of the nobility and the entrée to their palaces, and even claims to have been the confessor of the late King. Once, a cabby, not recognizing Vittozzi, overcharged him. The ecclesiastic protested, but the man was insistent. At length the priest paid the fare, saying, “Remember that you have cheated Don Ciro Vittozzi.” That night the cabman was set upon and beaten almost beyond recognition. Next day he came crawling to the priest and craved permission to drive him for nothing. Many such stories are told of Vittozzi.

Besides these leaders, there were a score of lesser lights—de Marinis, the “swell” of the Camorra, a mixer in the “smart set,” fond of horses and of diamonds, a go-between for the politicians; Luigi Arena, the scientific head of the corps of burglars; Luigi Fucci, the “dummy” head of the Camorra; and Gennaro Cuocolo, a shrewd “basista” and planner of burglarious campaigns, a little boss, grown arrogantfrom felonious success. The cast, indeed, is too long for recapitulation.

These met and planned the tricks that were to be turned, assigned each “picciotto” to his duty, received and apportioned the proceeds, giving a due share to the police, and perhaps betraying a comrade or two for good measure—a crowd of dirty rascals, at whose activities the authorities connived more or less openly until the dual murder that forced the Italian government to recognize the gravity of the conditions existing in the criminal world of Naples.

Then, in the twilight of the early morning of June 6, 1906, two cartmen found the body of Cuocolo, the “basista,” covered with stab-wounds by a roadside on the slope of Vesuvius. At almost the same moment in the Via Nardones, in Naples, in a house directly opposite the Commissariat of Public Safety, the police discovered his wife, Maria Cutinelli Cuocolo, stabbed to death in her bed. Both were well known Camorrists, and the crime bore every indication of being a “vendetta.” The first inquiries and formalities were conducted quite correctly. The police arrived on the spot and reported. The magistrate came more deliberately, but in due course. The two places where the crimes had occurred were duly examined, the two autopsies made, and a few witnesses heard. So far, everything had gone on just as it might have in New York or Boston.

But then the Camorra got busy and things began to go differently. Meantime, however, the police had received an anonymous letter, in which the writeralleged that upon the night of the murder (June 5) a certain dinner party had taken place at an inn known as “Mimi a Mare” at Cupra Calastro in the commune of Torre del Greco, within a hundred yards of the scene of the homicide, at which the guests present were Enrico Alfano, Ciro Alfano, his brother, Gennaro Ibello, Giovanni Rapi, and another. While they were drinking wine and singing, a man suddenly entered—Mariano de Gennaro—and made a sign to Alfano, who pledged the visitor in a glass of “Marsala” and cried, “All is well. We will meet to-morrow.” This the police easily verified, and the diners were thereupon all arrested and charged with being accomplices in the murder, simply because it appeared that they had been near by. There was no other evidence. Perhaps the wise police thought that if arrested these criminals would confess. At any rate, the merry-makers were all locked up and Magistrate Romano of Naples began an investigation. At this juncture of the drama entered Don Ciro Vittozzi, girded in his priestly robes, a “Holy Man,” in the odor of sanctity.

He hastened, not to the magistrate having the case in charge, but to another, and induced him to begin an independent investigation. He swore by his priestly office that his godson, Ciro Alfano, was innocent as well as the others. He whispered the names of the real murders—two ex-convicts, Tommaso De Angelis and Gaetano Amodeo—and told where the evidence of their guilt could be obtained. He produced a witness, Giacomo Ascrittore, who hadoverheard them confessing their guilt and the motive for the murder—revenge because Cuocolo had cheated them out of the proceeds of still another homicide. A police spy, Antonio Parlati, and Delegato Ippolito, a Commissary of police, gave their active assistance to the crafty priest. The prisoners were released, while in their stead De Angelis and Amodeo were thrown into jail.

Then the storm broke. The decent men of Naples, the Socialists, the honest public of Italy, with one voice, demanded that an end should be put to these things—and the Camorra. The cry, taken up by the unbought press, swept from the Gulf of Genoa to the Adriatic and to the Straits of Messina. The ears of the bureaucracy burned. Even Giolitti, the prime minister, listened. The government put its ear to the ground and heard the rumble of a political earthquake. They are shrewd, these Italian politicians. Instantly a bulletin was issued that the government had determined to exterminate the Camorra once and for all time. The honest and eager King found support ready to his hand and sent for the General commanding the Carabinieri and intrusted the matter to him personally. The General at once ordered Captain Carlo Fabbroni to go to Naples and see what could be done. Fabbroni went, summoning first Erminio Capezzuti and Giuseppi Farris, non-commissioned officers of the rank of Maresciallo,[15]sleuths of no mean order. In two months Capezzuti had ensnared Gennaro Abattemaggio, a petty thief andblackmailer and an insignificant member of the Camorra, and induced him to turn informer against the society, and the house of Ascrittore was searched and a draft of what it was planned that he should testify to upon the charges against De Angelis and Amodeo was discoveredwritten in the hand of Ippolito, the Delegato of Police! Thereupon the spy, Parlati, and Ascrittore were both arrested and thrown into prison on the charge of calumny. Vittozzi, the priest, was arrested for blackmail, and his residence was rummaged with the result that quantities of obscene photographs and pictures were discovered among the holy man’s effects! Abattemaggio made a full confession and testified that the five diners at “Mimi a Mare”—the first arrested—had planned the murders and were awaiting at the inn to hear the good news of their accomplishment.

According to his testimony, Cuocolo and his wife had been doomed to death by the central Council of the Camorra for treachery to the society and its decrees. Cuocolo, ostensibly a dealer in antiquities, was known to have for many years planned and organized the more important burglaries executed by his inferiors. Owing to his acquaintance with many wealthy persons and aristocrats he was able to furnish plans of their homes and the information necessary successfully to carry out his criminal schemes. In course of time he married Marie Cutinelli, a woman of doubtful reputation, known as “La Bella Sorrentina.” She, for her part, purchased immunity for Cuocolo by her relations with certain police officials,and her house became the scene of Camorrist debauchery. Thus, gradually, Cuocolo in turn affiliated himself with the police as a spy, and, to secure himself, occasionally betrayed an inferior member of the society. He also grew arrogant, defied the mandates of the heads of the society and cheated his fellows out of their share of the booty. For these and various other offences he was doomed to death by the Camorrist tribunal of high justice, at a meeting held upon May 26, 1906, and presided over by Enrico Alfano. He and his wife—who otherwise would have betrayed the assassins to the police—were thereupon stabbed to death, as related above, on the night of June 5, 1906, by divers members of the Camorra. The adventures of Capezzuti, who, to accomplish his ends, became a companion of the canaille of Naples, form a thrilling narrative. For our present purposes it is enough to say that in due course he formed the acquaintance of Abattemaggio, visited him in prison, and secured from him a list of the Camorrists and full information relative to the inner officers and workings of the organization.

Meanwhile Enrico Alfano having been released from custody had for a while lived in Naples in his usual haunts, but, on learning that the Carabinieri had been ordered to take a hand in investigating the situation, he had gone first into hiding at Afragola, a village near Naples, and had afterward fled to New York, where he had been arrested later in the year by Detective Petrosino and sent back to Havre, while Italian police officers were on their way toAmerica to take him back to Naples. Luckily, the French government was notified in time, so that he was turned over to the Italian government instead of being set at liberty, and was delivered to the Carabinieri in June, 1907, at Bardonacchia, on the frontier, together with fourteen other criminals who were being expelled from French territory. Then Capezzuti, armed with the confession of Abattemaggio, made a clean sweep of all the Camorrists against whom any evidence could be obtained and conducted wholesale raids upon their homes and hiding places, with the result that Rapi and the others were all arrested over again.

During the next four years the Carabinieri found themselves blocked at every turn owing to the machinations of the Camorra. Abattemaggio made several independent confessions, and many false and fruitless leads had to be run down. The police (“Public Safety”) were secretly hostile to the Carabinieri and hindered instead of helped them. Indeed, they assisted actively in the defence of the Camorra. Important documents were purloined. Evidence disappeared. Divers magistrates carried on separate investigations, kept the evidence to themselves, and connived at the misconduct of the police. The Delegato Ippolito and his officers were tried upon the denunciation of Captain Fabbroni, andwere all acquitted, for the Carabinieri were not called as witnesses, and the public prosecutor who had asked for a three-year jail sentence did not even appeal the case! Each side charged the other with incompetence and corruption and—nothing happened.

The defendants, numbering thirty-six in all, were finally brought to trial at the Assize Court at Viterbo, forty miles from Rome, in the spring of 1911, and at the present time[16]the proceedings are still going on. The case is, in fact, one of the most sensational on record and the newspapers of the civilized world have vied with one another in keeping it in the public eye during the year or more that has elapsed since the jury were empanelled, but there is no direct evidence as to the perpetrators of the homicides, and, unfortunately, unless the jury find that some of the Camorristi in the cage actually planned and executed the murder of the Cuocolos, the consequences to the defendants will not be serious, as mere “association for delinquency” with which most of them are charged is punishable with a shorter term of imprisonment than that which will have been suffered by the accused before the conclusion of their trial. Under Article 40 of the Italian Penal Code, the defendants get credit for this period, so that in most instances a verdict of guilty at Viterbo would be followed by the immediate discharge of the prisoners.[17]This is the case with Rapi—although the evidence has brought out a new offence for which he may still be prosecuted. And, as blackmail, for which that astounding rascal, Don Ciro Vittozzi, is being tried, is punishable with but three to five years imprisonment, “that Holy Man,” as he is termed by Alfano, will probably never be compelled to retire to a governmental cloister.

But whatever the result of the trial, it is quite unlikely that the prosecution will have any lasting effect upon the Camorra, for while this cage full of petty criminals has engaged and is engaging the entire resources of the Italian government a thousand or so others have come into being, and an equal number have grown to manhood and aspicciottihave filled the places temporarily left vacant by their incarcerated superiors. Nay, it is even probable that the public exploitation of the activities of the society will give it a new standing and an increased fascination for the unemployed youth of Naples.

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