This room, painted white and devoid of decoration, was intended for court entertainment. Today, it houses the Bourbon Nativity scene, which was recently restored after the majority of its figurines had been stolen. The Neapolitan Nativity tradition flourished under Charles of Bourbon in the mid-18th century, but especially under the collector King Francis I. It is said that Queen Maria Cristina of Savoy—now beatified—even wanted a small one to keep in her own room.
The custom of setting up a Nativity scene at the Royal Palace of Caserta became a tradition for the entire Court; it was created not only by artists and artisans but also by ladies-in-waiting and princesses, who were highly skilled at crafting costumes for the figures—whether shepherds, wealthy ladies, or Georgian merchants dressed in Oriental style—using multicolored San Leucio silks and filigree or coral jewelry.
Artists such as Bottiglieri, Sanmartino (creator of the famous *Veiled Christ* in the Sansevero Chapel), Mosca, Celebrano, Vassallo, and Gori participated in its creation; they modeled the most important figures in terracotta, while the others featured only terracotta heads and limbs attached to a framework of wire and tow. The figures were arranged on a cork “rock formation” (*scoglio*) according to strict rules and in keeping with canonical scenes, such as the Nativity, the Annunciation to the Shepherds, and the Tavern. Each year, a specific plan was followed to create the nativity scene, as depicted in the paintings by Salvatore Fergola displayed on the room’s walls. These paintings show the final nativity scene set up by the monarchs before the conquest of the Kingdom in 1860. The last nativity scene was arranged in 1845 to mark the inauguration of the Naples-Caserta railway. Maria Sophia, the Kingdom’s last Queen, was in the process of setting up the nativity scene in 1860 but was unable to complete it due to the attack by the House of Savoy and the subsequent fall of the Kingdom.
The current display draws inspiration from that final 19th-century nativity scene, which vividly reflects the cosmopolitan nature of late 18th-century Naples.
This sophisticated royal pastime was soon emulated by nobles and wealthy bourgeois, who commissioned the finest artists to create nativity scenes that would serve as ultimate symbols of their wealth and power. One such scene was encircled by large silver roses designed to hold candles; in another—owned by the Prince of Ischitella—the Magi wore garments glittering with jewels, and their pack donkeys carried loads filled with precious stones. The craze grew so intense that some people even went into debt or faced ruin just for the honor of a royal visit to their nativity scene. Indeed, it had become fashionable during the Christmas season for the King and his court—and occasionally other monarchs or distinguished foreign visitors like Goethe—to admire the most renowned displays in the most exclusive homes; these homes were subsequently opened to the general public, who gazed upon them in awe.
The result was a widespread passion for the tradition: no family, however humble, was without its own *presebbio* (nativity scene), even if it was tiny; if space was lacking, the scene was housed in a *scarabattola*—a wooden display case hung on the wall. Meanwhile, the staging of the nativity scene became increasingly theatrical and less religious in character. Palestine had been transformed into a Neapolitan alleyway, bustling with every type of artisan and featuring a tavern with its characteristic *appesa* (display of hanging meats and produce). Amidst all that characteristic hubbub of rustics, gaudy women with goiters, spaghetti-eaters, beggars, water sellers, fishmongers, greengrocers, and Magi with large entourages—all surrounded by a host of animals, including even water buffalo—one could only spot the Nativity scene tucked away in some cranny of the immense rocky landscape thanks to the swarm of angels descending from the heavens. In short, this “courtly” nativity scene retained none of the mysticism and sanctity of the Franciscan tradition; rightly so, the great collector Cuciniello described it as “a page of the Gospels translated into Neapolitan dialect.” Indeed, what was depicted was a slice of Neapolitan life rich in a thousand religious and pagan symbols—a neorealist spectacle that was constantly updated not only in terms of costumes but also to reflect the latest trends of the time, such as the ruins of Greco-Roman temples following the excavations at Pompeii and Herculaneum commissioned by Charles III, or the faithful reproduction of the first elephant to arrive in the capital during an embassy from the Ottoman Porte to the Kingdom of Naples.
Taken from: Nando Astarita – “Caserta dei Borbone”
The tradition of the Neapolitan nativity scene was actively encouraged by the Bourbons—certainly not out of religious devotion, but because they were well aware of the political advantage in having the common people see themselves as the “key players” in a phenomenon beloved by the King and the nobility. However, the revolution of 1799 and the arrival of the French interrupted the tradition of the royal nativity scenes; many of the figurines were scattered or looted, likely ending up in various museums around the world. Upon their return in 1816, the Bourbons purchased hundreds of new figurines and resumed the practice of setting up the scene, although—with the turn of the century—it began to lose its vitality, remaining forever rooted in the style of the 1700s.
In fact, the finest nativity scene set up at Caserta was the one from 1844, featuring nearly all the figurines from the royal collections and three processions of the Magi—a device used to introduce a sense of temporal movement to the scene and to greatly expand one of its most spectacular groupings. It was enormous, so it was displayed in the vast “Racchetta” gallery (now known as the Grand Gallery, 45 meters long), with a ceiling repainted blue for the occasion. Its beauty was captured in four paintings by the court artist Fergola, and it was admired—right up until the traditional date of February 2nd, Candlemas—by large crowds who traveled to Caserta, aided by the recently opened (1843) railway line connecting the city to Naples.
Salvatore Fergola (1796–1874) – Two details of the 1844 royal nativity scene set up in the enormous Grand Gallery of the Royal Palace. The hall is 45 meters long; one can only imagine the scale of such a nativity scene!
Taken from: Nando Astarita – “Caserta dei Borbone”
The elliptical room, now devoid of decoration, was used by the royal family as a private theater. This is confirmed by the 1799 inventory, which lists it as the “Royal Theater Room”: it contained an area for the audience, an orchestra section with a piano-harpsichord, and a stage with scenery—features that remained intact at the end of the century. Today, it houses a monumental Neapolitan nativity scene comprising 1,200 figurines.