The Palazzo Ammicc, Still inhabited today, it is one of the most popular architectural attractions in Bernalda.
This attraction goes beyond mere medieval artistic style, as it is the legends, rumours and gossip that make it the talk of the town and draw visitors.
Of hidden treasures
Legend has it that there was a very, very wealthy man who owned a large property in the historic centre of the town. However, this gentleman’s generous family allowed several farmers to live there rent-free, on condition that they worked on their own land and let their children play in the entrance hall of the building itself.
Before he died, the gentleman hid a vast treasure (which also included a life-size golden hen with thirteen chicks, made entirely of gold) in a secret place.
To uncover these treasures, it was necessary to sacrifice an unbaptised child: this demand was never met and so, to this day, Palazzo Ammicc remains the unwitting guardian of an enormous fortune.
Of kidnappings and shootings
It seems that the building’s name comes from the name of its owner: Lalla Micca. It is still assumed, however, that it comes from Lambicco or D’Amico.
According to rumours, the family apparently had more daughters than sons, hence the saying:
palaces, women, men, small
(Palazzo Ammicc: lots of women and few men).
The family’s wealth also attracted the attention of criminals, so much so that one day a gypsy woman sneaked into the palace, disguising herself as one of the servants. It was precisely at that time, in fact, that the valley of the Basento was home to a Roma camp.
The woman pretended to comb the matron’s hair until she spotted her beautiful daughter; without further ado, she abducted her, to the point where she made her forget her family of origin. The poor mother, distraught, eventually fell ill with grief, waiting in vain for her heiress to return.
Years and years later, those gypsies returned to the neighbourhood, just as the funeral of the building’s mistress was taking place, honoured by the ringing of the bells of the Mother Church. The little girl, who had by then grown into a woman, heard the bells, recognised them and, convinced that the bells rang only for people of importance, insisted on knowing the identity of the person being honoured until she learnt it directly from those very kidnappers, who were already aware of the sad event.
Driven by her emotions, she wanted to bid her mother a final farewell, promising the gypsies that, if they would allow her, she would return, just as they had made her swear.
When she reached his bedside, the young woman spoke these words:
My lady, my lady, you are the vine and I am the grape; I had money in abundance, but I did not know how to make the most of my fortune
(My lady, my lady, you were the vine and I was the grape; you had money beyond measure, but you could not foresee my fate).
On hearing these words, her brothers recognised her and ran after her, but to no avail, for she remained true to the promise she had made to the Romans.
One version of the legend holds that a brother, blinded by rage, leaned out of the open window overlooking the valley and fired shots at her, killing her and “snatching” her away from the gypsies who, in turn, had abducted her from him and his family.
Perhaps that is precisely the window in the building – which is now bricked up – from which the lady would still be waiting for her daughter to return.
The spot where the girl was killed, on the other hand, is called
The gypsy’s son.
