ome children were more unfortunate than their peers. There were many of them who, forced by misery and abject poverty, spent whole days inside unsanitary factories working instead of playing or attending school. The tragedy of these young victims of inhumanity was even more excessive during the eighteenth century. What we now term as “rights of the child” was virtually unknown then.

 The issue of abusive child labor should not be separated from the life of Nunzio Sulprizio. The abuses he suffered in the smithy of his uncle had a strong semblance with those experienced by thousands of children during his time. Would it be different from what we have now?

 

EARLY TRAGEDIES

Domenico Sulprizio was a poor cobbler of Pescosansonesco (Pescara, Italy) married to Domenica Rosa Luciani. A son was born to them on April 13, 1817. On his baptism, the child was given the name Nunzio in honor of the annunciation to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Impoverished that they were, the couple instilled in the young child, from the early stage, an awareness of discipline and piety. When Nunzio was three, his parents had him confirmed.

The first in a successive list of tragedies came in 1820. Nunzio was only three years old when his father Domenico died. His wife was left in a state of destitution. With the death of her husband, the family lost their sole source of income.

Forced by this situation, Domenica decided to marry a certain Giacomo De Fabiis of the neighboring town of Corvara. The stepfather of Nunzio proved to be a severe man. He showed little affection on the growing child and was quick to hit the boy with his hands if he committed any transgression. Such humiliation eventually formed in the child a certain degree of timidity.

At the age of six, it is said that a child generally becomes acutely sensitive to tile events taking place in his life. In the case of young Nunzio, the experience of coping with the unexpected would be tragic. in 1823, at the age of six, Domenica died, leaving Nunzio a definite orphan.

 

AN EXEMPLARY GRANDMOTHER

The unsympathetic stepfather of Nunzio was surely not an ideal foster father. For this reason, Anna Rosario Luciani, the child’s grandmother, willingly bore the responsibility of taking care of Nunzio.

Anna Rosario was described as very pious and an exemplary Christian. It was she who inculcated in the child a stronger sense of reverence for God. By her example, she awakened in her grandson a desire to lead a life of goodness. Analyzing Nunzio’s reactions to the afflictions he would endure in later life, it became very clear that the influence of his grandmother was powerful.

In 1826, tragedy struck once more. Anna Rosario died, but not before making a major impact on the life of her grandson. Nunzio, by then at tile age of nine, was left a bereaved orphan for the third time. One of his maternal uncles took him into his personal custody. He could make use of him.

 

A CRUEL UNCLE

 Biographers of Nunzio Sulprizio all agreed in their description of Domenico Luciani: “rude”, “extremely bad‑tempered”, “a drunkard”, “brutal”, “coarse”, and “cruel”. A study of contrasts, Nunzio was gentle, serene and obedient; Domenico was stern, violent and insolent. Such contradicting personalities were bound to resist each other.

 Domenico Luciani was a blacksmith. The proper raising of the child was far from his mind when he took his nephew into custody. He had no intention of sending Nunzio to school or having him instructed in the faith. What he needed was an added laborer in his smithy. Nunzio was, therefore, an apprentice. Thus, the relationship between tile two was not intended to be “uncle‑nephew” but I “employer‑employee.”

 During this period in history, owners of factories collected orphans and children of poor families, and received their services only at tile cost of maintaining them. Such an attitude was universally accepted and tolerated. Since lie was harbored by his uncle, Nunzio was obliged to recompense him with work.

 

ILL‑TREATMENT

Nunzio was made to work beyond the physical stamina of his is age. His uncle obliged him to work at the bellows for more than twelve hours ‑ that was from early morning until late in the night. Aside from this toil, Nunzio was also sent oil distant errands. Domenico had no consideration for the weather: be it during the sweltering summer or during the frightful mountain winters, his nephew had to accomplish his far errands. Thus it was for six years. And during all this time, Nunzio received no salary at all.

The working condition was no less immoral. Despite tile hard labor he underwent, Nunzio received very meager nourishment. There were occasions when the child, compelled by hunger and fatigue, begged for food from their neighbors. During sickness, he was not attended to, and, worse, was frequently forced to continue his work. Nunzio’s time for sleep fell below recommended standards because of his work. Consequently, the emaciated child had frequent fainting spells which his uncle did not care to check. Because of this, the physical development of the child was disrupted.

 The temperarnent of Domenico was choleric; this was an added burden on the child. At the slightest provocation, Domenico would be in a fit of fury and, in ore than often, it was Nunzio who bore the brunt. The blacksmith reached for whatever he could immediately lay his hands on ‑ a club, a steel bar, an anvil, a sledgehammer ‑ and viciously hurl it on the helpless child. At times, he had no need for any heavy object. He simply threw the child on the floor and then kicked him ferociously until his temper finally drained.

 There were other men working in the smithy besides Nunzio. The treatment he received from them was as cruel. Aware of the sensitivity of the boy, they intentionally shouted foul and blasphemous statements. Nunzio habitually ran to a comer and covered his ears to the delight of the pranksters.

 Aside the humiliation he bore from the people he lived with, he also patiently tolerated the impudence of other people. Once, Nunzio went to a fountain to wash his wounds. A woman was doing her laundry at the same time. Seeing that the water was getting polluted by the boy, she unhesitatingly threw a stone at him to drive him away. Nunzio fled instantly and, in between his gasps for breath, sang a popular song to the Virgin Mary.

 

 HEROIC RESIGNATION

 How did Nunzio react to all these abuses during the six years he stayed in the smithy of his uncle?

Despite the cruelty of his uncle, Nunzio never questioned his authority. He was subservient to the harsh blacksmith and did all that he could to please him, preventing anything that could provoke his wrath. No one remembered hearing Nunzio complain against what he was enduring. They concluded that he accepted all of these with an unbelievable “heroic resignation”.

Heroic it was indeed! But had he no self‑regard? The attitude of Nunzio was intriguingly very questionable and not the least worth of emulation in the present time. But, then, Nunzio lived in a different world and era, and had a different spirituality 0f his own.

All in all, Nunzio grew up facing the successive deaths of three intimate people in his life. Such trauma definitely had an effect on the coping mechanism of the child. The discipline instilled in him by his parents and the strictness of his stepfather surely made him a staid child. Raised up to be less assertive than children of today, Nunzio, like the others, was taught to accept the incontestable decisions of his elders.

Nunzio went even further than his contemporary or similarly exploited children. He viewed suffering in the light of faith. Since it was impossible for him to go to church, Nunzio spent enough time in prayerful devotion and communion with God. He refused to be influenced by his less virtuous companions because he kept in constant mind the counsels of his grandmother. He himself summarized his spirituality: “To suffer is but a little matter, as long as I am assured of my salvation,”

The longanimity of Nunzio was, thus, rooted in an experience of faith. Witnesses disclosed that he did not lose his meekness and serenity of soul. What was amazing was that lie preserved the teachings of his parents and grandmother despite the absence of a stable religious formation after their deaths. Equally amazing was how he was able to persevere in virtues in the smithy of an irreverent Domenico Luciani. His constant preoccupation was only this: “I will become a saint... a great saint in a short time.”

 

AN ULCERATED LEFT FOOT

Undernourishment, naturally, had an adverse effect on Nunzio’s body. A wound on his left foot, caused by a sledgehammer thrown at him by his uncle, developed gangrene and became ulcerated. Because of this, lie was unable to walk properly to perform his routine duties. Notwithstanding, Domenico had him stand all day; later, lie had him bound securely in the chains of the bellows and ordered him to continue working.

Afterward, it became very obvious that the boy was too ill to work. Domenico at last permitted that his nephew be given proper medical assistance in tile neighboring town, speculating that his “useless” nephew would not come back.

In 1831, Nunzio was admitted at the Ospedale S. Salvatore of L’Aquila. He received a certain degree of relief with tile respite. The wound, however, was given no cure. Nunzio stayed there for three months waiting for a remedy. Subsequently, lie was dismissed because of lack of accommodation.

Domenico was not pleased to see Nunzio back at the smithy. Despite the ailment of his nephew, he had him continue working. The situation by this time had become more torturous for Nunzio, but he never complained.

 

RELIEF

Francesco Sulprizio, also all uncle of Nunzio, was a corporal in the first regiment of the Bourbon army in Naples. In 1832, lie came to the smithy of Domenico Luciani and demanded that Nunzio at once be given to him He had been told of the cruel treatment being endured by his nephew and wanted an end to it.

The blacksmith was more than glad to give him Nunzio. After all, lie was already a “useless workman ‑ and lie had no need for a disabled worker. Thus, after six years of abuse, Nunzio was able to leave the smithy of Domenico Luciani. With his kinder uncle, lie left for Naples. Leaving Pescosansoneso, Nunzio later remarked that lie felt lie had not revered his uncle enough at all.

The emaciated figure of his serene nephew walking with the aid of crutches deeply affected Francesco. He was aware that the child needed immediate medical attention. He presented Nunzio to his superior officer, Colonel Felice Worchinger. Francesco related to him the inhuman treatment the child endured along with serenity which never left him despite his travails. The colonel, a pious and charitable man, was also moved by what he saw and heard. He declared his willingness to rehabilitate the boy.

 

AT STA. MARIA DEL POPOLO

Immediately, Nunzio was brought to the Ospedale Sta. Maria del Popolo for the incurables. By this time caries of the bone had set in. In spite of the pain it caused, Nunzio did not utter any grief.

It was in this hospital that Nunzio’s virtues came to be popularly recognized. The doctors, attendants, and the other patients somehow came to hear about the cruelty that the child bore heroically. His repute did not end there for they began to appreciate the cheerful presence of this young man who limped from bed to bed on his crutches bringing consolation and encouragement with his words. Nunzio even found time to teach catechism to patients younger than him.

Nunzio finally had the joy of receiving his first communion in the hospital at the age of fifteen. Henceforth, his spirituality would be deeply rooted in the Eucharist and in his devotion to the Virgin Mary. He gave himself more time to prayer. His attendant attested that, at night, he constantly saw Nunzio kneeling at his bedside absorbed in prayer.

 

LIKE HIS OWN SON

Col. Worchinger came to love him like his own son. “How could I complain of the trials which God sends me when I see with what heroic courage Nunzio bears his affliction? How can I delay for a moment to share my abundance with the poor when he, who is almost the neediest of all, refuses what is offered to himself so as to give to others, and in this says so plainly: ‘What, shall not the Lord’s own also receive?’” Hoping to obtain for his ward a remedy, the colonel frequently sent him to the thermal water of Casamicciola.

In April 1834, Col. Worchinger decided to bring Nunzio along with him to Maschio Angioino, the Castel Nuovo of Naples. It was a former palace which was later used as barracks. The altruistic officer was hoping that the young man would be better taken care of this way. News of Nunzio’s departure from Sta. Maria del Popolo caused a degree of consternation among its residents. After all, they had never witnessed such holiness and received such consolation and joy before the coming of Nunzio.

 

“HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE IS!”

For a while it did seem that Nunzio’s condition was improving. In fact, he indicated his desire to enter the seminary and Col. Worchinger employed for him a private tutor in Latin. His condition, however, got further complicated. In the autumn of 1835, doctors recommended to Col. Worchinger the amputation of the boy’s infected leg. The operation would have pushed had Nunzio not fallen worse.

Meantime, Nunzio continued to live in the experience of God. Despite his extreme illness, he took it upon himself to perform voluntary mortifications. He did not complain when the servants of his benefactor, out of envy, treated him neglectfully. He wrote a personal rule of life and adhered to it faithfully.

In 1836, tile health of the young man took a further turn for the worst. By May, all hopes that lie would recover were given up. On his deathbed, Nunzio kept a constant gaze on a picture of the Virgin Mary oil the wall of his room. A few moments before he expired, lie exclaimed: “The Virgin Mary! See how beautiful she is!” It was the fifth of May.

 

* * *

 

“It is neither just nor human so to grind men down with excessive labor as to stupefy their minds and wear out their bodies. Man’s powers, like his general nature, are limited, and beyond these limits he cannot go... Work, which is quite suitable for a strong man cannot rightly be required from a woman or a child. And, in regard to children, great care should be taken not to place them in workshops and factories until their minds and bodies are sufficiently developed. For just as very rough weather destroys the buds of spring, so does too early an experience of life’s hard toil blight tile young promise of a child’s faculties.” (Leo XIII, Encyclical on the Condition of the Working Classes, Rerum Novarum n. 33)

 Only one letter written by Nunzio exists to this day. It was addressed to his uncle Domenico Luciani, written some months before lie died. Nunzio addressed his uncle with utmost respect and tenderness. How could he still have done that? The man he wrote to was the same bitter blacksmith whose relentlessness caused his lifetime misery and ultimately death. Why didn’t Nunzio speak of his bitterness, his resentment and his anger? Simple... he had none. Nunzio would be a complete enigma for each of us until we understand that, unlike most of us, in this aggrieved apprentice was no trace of hatred… only love.