During the next few years Portugal had nothing to do with the foreign or domestic policy of Philip. Governed with great moderation by the archduke, enjoying internal peace, an extended commerce, and a high degree of prosperity, she might have been happy—happier than she had ever been under her native monarchs—could hereditary enmity have been forgotten, and national pride sacrificed to interest. The exiled Antonio was made aware of the existing discontent: he had many well-wishers and not a few spies in the country, who constantly communicated with him. After the second defeat of his armament in the Azores, he abode at the French court, with the hope of obtaining increased supplies for an invasion of Portugal; but as the civil wars which raged in the former country were likely to prove interminable, he passed over into England to renew his intrigues with the earl of Essex. He arrived at a favourable time, just after the destruction of the Spanish armada, when the resentment of the English was at the highest pitch, and they were longing for revenge.

At first, however, Elizabeth, with her usual prudence, disapproved of the project of a Portuguese invasion; but, with her usual weakness, wherever the tender passion was concerned, she was persuaded by the favourite earl to enter into an alliance with the exile, and to equip an armament for placing him on the throne. Nothing can better exhibit the unprincipled impostor than certain conditions of that alliance. He engaged to subjugate Portugal in one week from the disembarkation of the troops; to pay Elizabeth an immense sum for the expenses of the armament, and a considerable annual tribute in token of her sovereignty; to receive English garrisons, at his own expense, into the principal maritime fortresses; on his arrival at Lisbon, to abandon that city to a twelve days’ pillage. In conformity with another article of the treaty,—a treaty not over honourable to Elizabeth herself, since she grasped at advantages which generosity, or even justice, would have scorned,—twenty thousand men were embarked at Plymouth in 120 vessels, the whole commanded by Drake and Norris (1589).

The success of this expedition corresponded with its flagitious design. After an unsuccessful attempt on Corunna, the armament cast anchor at Peniche, and disembarked the troops who marched to Torres Vedras, where they proclaimed Dom Antonio, and continued their route towards the capital. But the peasantry, instead of joining his standard, fled at his approach. As the English general approached the suburbs, the monks, the women, and most of the inhabitants retired within the city. The ill success of the English, who repeatedly assailed the outworks, stifled the intrigues of the disaffected; and a vigorous sortie decided the fate of the expedition. The English general, who throughout exhibited strange imbecility, retreated; he was pursued; many of his followers were cut off; with the rest he sought refuge in the tower of Cascaes, which the cowardly governor surrendered to him. Here, considering the want of provisions, and the deception which had been practised on him by Dom Antonio, who had persuaded him that the moment a hostile standard were raised it would be joined by all true Portuguese, he wisely resolved to return home. This was fortunately the last time Portugal was cursed with the prior’s presence. Deserted by his nearest friends, neglected by the sovereigns, his former allies, in 1595 he ended his unprincipled life in merited obscurity and indigence.

THE FALSE SEBASTIANS

But though Philip was thus rid of a formidable enemy, he had others who were actuated by even a superior spirit of imposture, and who might have occasioned him some trouble. We have before alluded to a strange impression among the vulgar that Sebastian yet lived, and that such an impression, in such an age and country, could not fail to produce impostors. The first, who appeared in 1584, was a native of Alcobaça—a man of low extraction and of still lower morals. Though he was condemned to death, the sentence—very wisely—was not put into execution. He was condemned to labour in the galleys, where all who had the curiosity might visit him, and be convinced by their own eyes that he was not Sebastian.

The failure of this impostor did not deter another from the same hazardous experiment. There was a stone-cutter’s son, Alvares by name, a native of the Azores, who, having passed some months in the monastery of the Holy Cross, on the heights of Cintra, left that community, and, like the youth of Alcobaça, retired to a hermitage. At this time he does not appear to have meditated the personation of Sebastian: when, from his frequent self-inflictions, and from his extraordinary habits, he was suspected to be that prince, and even addressed as such, he replied that he was a stone-mason’s son of Terceira. But the more he affirmed this truth, the less was he believed: he was evidently fulfilling a rigorous penitence, to atone for the misfortunes which he had brought on his people; and, like Roderic the Goth, he had doubtless renounced forever all human grandeur. Perceiving that opposition was useless, Alvares consented to be treated as a king: he was soon joined by hundreds of the peasantry, whom he allowed to kiss his hand with much affectation of condescension. At length the hermit was taken, was brought to Lisbon, paraded through the streets on the back of an ass, exposed to the jeers of the populace, and publicly hanged.

It might have been expected that the failure of these two attempts would have had some effect even on imposture and credulity; but a third Sebastian appeared, and, strange to say, in Spain, under the very eyes of Philip. There was an Augustinian monk, by name Miguel dos Santos, who had been a chaplain of Sebastian, confessor to Dom Antonio, and who was now confessor to the nunnery of Madrigal. Here he met with Gabriel de Spinosa, a native of Toledo, whom he had known in Portugal, and of whose intelligence, boldness, and dexterity he had seen frequent proofs. As this man really bore a resemblance to King Sebastian, he persuaded him, though not without difficulty, secretly to personate that monarch. Finally the priest, being put to the torture, confessed all. The same means extorted a similar confession from Spinosa, who was hanged and quartered. The priest was degraded, delivered over to the secular arm, and suspended from the public gallows at Madrid.c

A fourth impostor was more famous than all the rest, by birth supposed to be an Italian; who, after a long confinement in Naples, was transferred to Spain, where he ended his days in a prison. His imposture was the more remarkable from the fact that he could not speak Portuguese.a

The remaining actions of Philip must be sought in the history of Spain. Four years before his death, on the removal of the cardinal-regent to the archiepiscopal see of Toledo, the government of Portugal was intrusted to a commission of five. In 1598, Philip breathed his last.c

CHAGAS’ ACCOUNT OF THE LOSS OF THE COLONIES

As yet it was only our pilots who were acquainted with the navigation of the Indies; in India we were the only nation who had dominions and solidly established settlements, and consequently we were sole lords of the commerce of the East. The English confined themselves to plundering our ships on their return voyage from India, but they dared not come to fight us in the land conquered by our superhuman feats. A young nation that was about to appear at this period on the historical stage was chosen by fate to be the one to wrest from our grasp the sceptre of the East. The Low Countries had long held important commerce with us, principally the town of Antwerp, where a Portuguese factory had been long established. The ships of this industrious country came to Portugal to fetch the merchandise of the East, and scattered it afterwards over Europe. When the Flemish and Dutch rising broke out against Spain, dominator of the Low Countries, Antwerp, the central point of the war, lost her commercial importance, which Amsterdam inherited.

While Portugal was independent she continued the commerce which enriched Holland, but when Philip II effected the union of the two crowns, he had the unhappy inspiration of attacking his rebellious subjects by issuing in 1594 an order for the sequestration of fifty Dutch ships at anchor in the Tagus, and at the same time promulgated a decree closing all Portuguese ports to the Dutch. The blow was terrible, and might have proved mortal, but for the unshakable energy of those republicans of the north. Being unable to come to Portugal for the merchandise of the East, they determined to go and seek it in India herself. In 1594, some merchants of Zealand, assisted by the subsidies of Amsterdam and Enkhuizen, equipped three ships, intrusted them to the care of their two most able mariners, Barentz and Heemskerk, and despatched them to the north in quest of a new passage to the Asiatic seas. The English had already made a similar attempt in 1556, but without success; this attempt of the Dutch was not more successful, and the shipowners were in truth discouraged when the hope which upheld them proved vain.

A chance circumstance favoured them. A Dutchman, named Cornelis Houtmann, had been long in Portugal, and had either succeeded in obtaining a passage to India, or had obtained ample information in the country respecting the route first taken by Vasco da Gama. In 1595, a fleet of four ships piloted by him set out for the coveted lands of the East. In August, 1597, he returned to Texel with barely two ships, but having displayed the colours of a new European flag to the amazed natives of Madagascar, Bantam, Java, Madura, and Bali. The spell was broken. Overjoyed at the result, the Dutch merchants equipped a fleet of eight ships in 1598, commanded by Jacques le Neker and Heemskerk and despatched them to the East. This fleet touched at the island of Cirne, which they named Mauritius, in honour of their great general Maurice of Nassau, a name by which it is still called, though also known as the Isle of France, which Bernardin de St. Pierre has immortalised in his romance, Paul et Virginie. From thence they proceeded to Bantam, where they freighted four ships with spices and despatched them to Europe. The remaining ships visited the Moluccas and, in 1600, returned to Holland with a most valuable cargo.i

The success of this enterprise was of the greatest importance to England, to which country Philip II had also closed Portuguese ports, in 1589. The English had despatched an expedition to India in 1591. The result did not correspond with the hopes of success, and the British merchants were already discouraged when the example of the Dutch excited them to form the famous company of the Indies, one of the most fruitful origins of England’s prosperity.f

Under Portuguese administration the constant war always agitating India never ceased, but the Portuguese arms were ever victorious. Yet this state of war made it impossible to frustrate from the outset the attempts of the English and Dutch.

We must always bear in mind that whereas externally Portuguese dominion was firmly maintained, internally the most profound corruption was at work, and paving the way to the dissolution of this vast empire in the near future. The vices of the Portuguese, the corruption of those in office, the excesses of the Inquisition, the cruel treatment of the subjected Indians, the senseless preponderance of the priests, all this is painted by Diogo do Contoj in vivid colours.

Mathias de Albuquerque, and especially the count da Vidigueira, attempted to reform these appalling abuses, but all these vices were deep rooted, and no amount of cauterising could check the gangrene. The governors might consider themselves lucky that they yet, at least, possessed valiant soldiers, who did not bring dishonour on the name of Portugal in the wars, and who supported with the edge of their swords the trembling empire. During the government of Dom Francisco da Gama, a most important annexation was made. The last king of Ceylon, dethroned by his kinsman, Raju, and protected by Portuguese soldiers, bequeathed the island in gratitude to the Portuguese. It was the last ray of the dying lamp. As heralds of the approaching disasters the Dutch ships appeared in the East. Of Cornelis Houtmann’s four ships, two only, as we have said, returned home; of the other two, one was lost on the reefs, and the other was destroyed by the Portuguese; but in the following voyage they succeeded in evading vigilance. What other result was to be expected, when the natives welcomed them as liberators, and the Portuguese were always engaged in wars which prevented them from openly repulsing their rivals?i

We have referred elsewhere to the conspiracy in favour of Mary Stuart, favoured by Philip II, and of how this incident resulted in the outbreak of hostilities between the courts of Madrid and London. Elizabeth Tudor decided to declare war against the Catholic king, and despatched Admiral Drake with a fleet of twenty-three ships, furnished with twenty-three hundred men, against the Spanish colonies. The first to fall a victim was the Portuguese colony of São Thiago, Cape Verd Islands, where the English admiral put in on his way to America, on the 16th of November, 1585. Thence the squadron continued its course, capturing various galleons on the way, some of which were bound to Lisbon.

Almost at the same time various African chiefs allied themselves against the Portuguese at the instigation of Ali Bey, despatched by the sultan of Turkey to subjugate to the viceroy of Egypt the petty kings who did homage to the crown of Portugal. Ali’s first victory was not, however, of long duration, as in 1587 a squadron was despatched from India under command of de Mello, who compelled the sovereign of Patta to become a Portuguese vassal, and killed the king of Lamu. Proceeding to Mombasa, he laid waste that place, and put an end to the confederation which Ali Bey had organised. Shortly after, in 1589, the Turks again returned, but this time directed their attack against Melinde, which place had remained faithful. Thomé de Sousa Coutinho hastened from Goa with a fleet, and routed the Turks in the first encounter.

While in east Africa the native population, excited by the Turks, were using every endeavour to throw off the Portuguese yoke, in the west Paulo Dias de Novaes, founder of Loanda, was conquering the kingdom of Angola for the crown of Portugal, at the moment when Philip II was conquering the kingdom of Portugal for Castile. From that day to this the two settlements have remained in the possession of the Portuguese.

Affairs in Brazil were less prosperous. In 1591 the port of Santos was attacked by an English pirate, and the town of São Vicente was sacked and burned; four years later the storehouses of Recife were also sacked by another pirate of the same nation. Worse even than the English pirates were the Spanish defenders.

Before this time the French had already made various incursions into the colony, with the design of establishing themselves there. The province was saved by the patriotism of the residents of Pernambuco, who rushing to arms, under command of the governor, put an end to the French invasions. Enemies more terrible still succeeded them; these were the Dutch who were expelled only after a long and obstinate struggle, when Portugal had already recovered her liberty.

DOMESTIC DISASTER

To return to the kingdom, where, as we have said, public misery was aggravated by the losses caused to commerce by the pirates of hostile nations, who infested the seas, we must now add that frequently even the ports were attacked. The most daring of these attempts was that made at Faro on the 22nd of July, 1596, where an English and a Dutch fleet put in, commanded by Admiral Effingham, who after entering the port of Cadiz and there burning a number of ships, and plundering at the same time thirty-three ships laden with merchandise of the Indies, made for the coasts of Portugal, and after landing three thousand soldiers on the shores of Algarve, plundered and laid waste the capital of that province. The English then made for Lagos, but the governor was able to repulse them.

We will conclude this account of the reign of Philip II by giving a résumé of the instructions he is said to have left to his son, and which, if they show the evil of his policy, are also an eloquent proof of how ambition will lead the clearest judgments astray, making them dream of impossible ventures, and waste their energy in useless projects. His advice was:

“That without examining into the justice of the case he should obtain complete dominion over Portugal, and once conquered, disorder and terror could be spread throughout Germany, France be conquered, the forces of England weakened, and the terror of the Spanish arms carried to the extreme north.

“That profiting by the advantages gained, his Catholic majesty could thereby get possession of the navigation of the Indies, found colonies wherever he thought fit, conquer new lands, establish an immense commerce, and subjugate all the countries he considered it to his advantage to subjugate. But above all he was to secure the respect of the Portuguese, as this was of the very greatest importance. That far from burdening them with taxes and subsidies, he should grant them all the privileges and favours to which they laid claim. When the kingdom was pacified and the people moulded to Spanish dominion, then he should begin to oppose these privileges, appointing from time to time, under various pretexts, Spanish magistrates who should insensibly mould the people to this.

“That he should strictly watch the duke of Braganza, closely examining into his actions, but always showing him every attention, until the opportunity offered of persecuting him and all his family. As for the rest of the nobility, the only course was to remove them from the country, sending them to fill honourable posts in Flanders, Germany, and Italy. Proceeding in this manner the kingdom of Portugal could be monopolised and reduced to a province, and the people rendered powerless to make any movement; but by burdening them with taxes and subsidies, their anger would be roused, and hatred awakened, which would be fatal to the Spanish monarchy.

“That his majesty should give the viceroyalty of the kingdom to some prince or princess of his house, to inspire the Portuguese with greater respect for the government, and spare them the repugnance of giving obedience to any other.

“That he should be no less careful in dividing up the house of Braganza; that they should contract no new alliances in Portugal; deprive them of all state dignities, which should be bestowed on Spanish subjects only, and finally prevent them from holding correspondence with foreign courts.

“That whenever disputes arose between the Spanish and Portuguese grandees it was most necessary to favour the latter, and at the same time to bestow the principal offices of the kingdom upon those who appeared the most attached to the court of Castile, and thus attract others with the hope of favours.

“That when there was no longer cause to fear the grandees, the nobility, and still less the people, then it would finally become necessary to destroy the whole house of Braganza, deprive the Portuguese of all public ecclesiastical and secular offices, and give them to Spaniards, and govern the kingdom of Portugal as any other province forming part of the Spanish monarchy.”

If the treacherous and immoral policy which Philip II counselled his heir to follow caused the ruin of the oppressed, it was no less fatal to the oppressors. After the death of the son of Charles V the decadence of the Spanish monarchy, the most vast and formidable of the sixteenth century, was rapid and profound.f

PHILIP II (1598-1621 A.D.)

Of Philip III of Spain (II of Portugal) we have only to say that in the course of his reign he once visited his Portuguese subjects. On this occasion the hungry and ambitious chivalry expected much from his liberality; but, except a few, all were disappointed. If he did not treat them with studied insult—a charge levelled at him by the Portuguese historians—he exhibited so great a predilection towards his hereditary subjects that he could not fail mortally to offend a people who would not even have been satisfied with an equal share of his attention. Yet many of them are just enough to blame the weakness, rather than the ill will of Philip: they contend that the truth was kept from him; that every art was taken to confirm his dislike to them as a nation; that the Castilian nobles behaved with intolerable haughtiness to their own; that, in everything, a studied contrast was drawn between the two classes of subjects; that taxes were imposed without the consent of the cortes, and strangers nominated to the most important offices—both violations of the compact signed at Thomar by the first Philip; and that revenues, appropriated to objects exclusively Portuguese, were diverted into the treasury of Madrid.

PHILIP III (PHILIP IV OF SPAIN) (1621-1640 A.D.)

If the Portuguese had so much reason to complain of the government of the second Philip, that of his son and successor was, doubtless, still more onerous, more insulting: a good one, like that of Philip I, would have been hated; a bad one would naturally add to the existing mass of discontent. That the weak, the profligate, and the unprincipled count-duke de Olivares could direct the affairs of this kingdom with advantage, either to it or to his royal master, will not be expected by anyone who has perused the account of his administration in Spain. There can be no doubt that, by forced loans, by intolerable taxes, and by using the native soldiers in foreign wars, he wished to break the proud spirit of the people—to make them the mere slaves of his will.

Finding themselves ground to the very earth by exactions, their complaints disregarded, their persons insulted, their prosperity at an end, we need not wonder that they began to meditate an escape from their yoke. They turned their eyes towards the duke of Braganza, the next heir in the order of succession.[168] That ambitious noble adopted a line of conduct which could not fail to forward his views. To the world he appeared absorbed by hunting, feasting, and other diversions; yet his emissaries were at work in every part of the kingdom, fanning the flame of discontent, and teaching the people to regard him as one able, at least, to effect their deliverance.[169] Owing to their representations, but in a still greater degree to the rapacity of the revenue collectors, open insurrections appeared at Lisbon, at Braga, and, above all, at Evora, and were not quelled without much difficulty and some bloodshed. Though pressed, the duke was too wise to declare himself at this moment: he knew that his combinations were not formed;[170] he therefore determined to await the silent but resistless course of events. The sequel soon justified his policy. The chief nobles, prelates, cavalleros, and clergy were suddenly summoned to Madrid. What could be the object in this mysterious, unexpected, and unparalleled mandate? Conjecture was vain: to disobey it would be dangerous; and a magnificent display of retinues immediately filled the road from Lisbon to the Spanish capital. What passed at the conference between the ministers and this deputation will never be known; but that some extraordinary concession was required from them may be easily believed. That their consent was demanded to the incorporation of the Portuguese with the Spanish cortes, or that a certain number of deputies from the three estates should be summoned at the same time with those of Castile—in other words, that the kingdom should be forever degraded to the rank of a province, is loudly affirmed by the Portuguese. The nobles probably returned the answer attributed to them—that, in an affair of such moment, they could do nothing without the sanction of a legitimate meeting of the cortes in their own country.

But another reason for this extraordinary mandate may be assigned, more plausible than either. The court could not be ignorant of the disposition of the people towards the duke of Braganza, nor, perhaps, with his intrigues. His arrest might be resolved on: and, as it could not be effected in Portugal, where his connections were so numerous and powerful, he must be inveigled to Madrid. This supposition is confirmed by three facts: he had evaded compliance when summoned alone to the capital; he was not present now; and the subsequent endeavours of the minister to draw him to Madrid were as earnest as they were ineffectual. Disappointed in his views, Olivares now proceeded more boldly: he ordered all the disposable troops in Portugal to march into Catalonia, and the duke of Braganza to place himself at their head. But the war of Catalonia concerned the Castilians only. Both nobles and people resolved to disobey the mandate; but, lest an open refusal should subject them to instant invasion, they merely demanded a short delay, until their preparations were matured.

In the meantime the duke of Braganza was pursuing his end with persevering art: knowing how suspicious was the Spanish court, how jealously every action was watched, he plunged more deeply into his favourite amusements, and asserted that, when the troops were ready to march, he should not be wanting at his post. So well did he counterfeit his part, that many of the conspirators, believing that he had neither ambition nor compassion for his countrymen, declared their intention of soliciting his brother, Prince Duarte, to head them. At length, when obedience or open refusal to the orders of the court was imperative, the conspirators hastened to Lisbon, and began their meetings. Their numbers increased; yet so artfully were their proceedings conducted, that they escaped the notice of the duchess of Mantua, the vice-queen.c

ENNES’ ACCOUNT OF THE CONSPIRACY

It is an old and lasting tradition that the conspirators assembled in the garden of the palace of Antonio de Almada, in a pavilion with stone benches, which had the advantage of a staircase communicating with the turret, where there was a secret door leading into the wood of Santa Anna, fronting the garden of the knight-commanders of the Incarnation. This door supplied an easy entrance to the conspirators, who never assembled all at one time, for fear of the enterprise being crushed with one blow, through treachery. A decision adopted by any seven was binding on all the rest. All the letters of the conspirators were written in an enigmatical manner against the possibility of seizure. Dom João was evidently not anxious to risk his fortune and greatness in a dangerous throw. Egoism was more powerful with him than patriotism, and the voice of prudence deadened the suggestions of ambition. The nobles were in despair, and began to discuss whether it would not be advisable to form a republican government if the duke persisted in his obstinacy.[171] But, thanks largely to the skilful efforts of João Pinto Ribeiro, the duke was won over. But when João Pinto attempted to kiss his hand, this the duke would not allow, saying with a smile, “Let us not buy the cabbage before the meat.”

Upon his return to Lisbon, Pinto Ribeiro lost no time in assembling the nobles to communicate the news he brought from Villa Viçosa. He painted in colours more glowing than truthful the prince’s enthusiasm and determination, and urged his good intentions of sharing the government of the kingdom with those who had given him the throne. João Pinto’s communications were received with the greatest enthusiasm; he had received full power from the duke to adopt in his name any measures he thought fit. The plan of the revolution was then discussed, opinions at first being very varied, but eventually the most sensible opinion prevailed, which was that the nobles should make a surprise attack upon the palace, December 1st.

On Friday, the 30th of November, the last assembly of the nobles took place at the house of Dom Antão de Almada. None now recoiled before danger, and knowing that they were risking their lives, they prepared for death; nearly all confessed, and some made their wills, whilst others recommended their friends in religion to pray for their souls. The judge of the people, and other influential persons of the lower classes, had on this afternoon promised that their men would be ready to follow the nobles at the first summons. It was decided that they should assemble on the following day in the courtyard of the palace, and as nine o’clock struck some should attack the Spanish guard, whilst others should mount immediately to disarm the German guard, and seize all the entrances; upon which, some were to gain the verandas to attack the people, and proclaim Dom João and liberty, whilst others should seek the hated secretary Vasconcellos. The ministers had been warned repeatedly of the suspected assemblies at the house of Dom Antão de Almada, and Vasconcellos received warning of the very day fixed upon the revolution. In spite of all, the conspirators did not meet with the slightest resistance! A few hours sufficed to conclude the revolution.f

CHAGAS’ ACCOUNT OF THE 1ST OF DECEMBER (1640 A.D.)

The 1st of December dawned serene and clear! No clouds dimmed the aurora of Portuguese liberty. Who can divine the thoughts which assailed the conspirators at waking upon this cold winter morning to undertake this hazardous enterprise? Hiding her scalding tears behind a smile, Donna Filippa de Vilhena herself girded on the swords of her two sons, commanding them not to think upon her fate, but upon the fate of Portugal; declaring that to die for one’s country when she lay groaning under oppression was still more beautiful than to live for one’s mother. With the same manly resolution Donna Marianna de Lencastre blessed her two sons; and these two Spartan mothers, nobler indeed than the Spartans, for such rigid principles had not been instilled into them by a stoical education, left an heroic example to posterity.

From every quarter of the town the nobles and their followers came to the courtyard of the palace, some on foot, some on horseback, some in their carriages, not revealing the anxiety matured to so critical a moment, but with a calmness which gave no sign of what was about to occur. A little before nine all the conspirators were assembled in the courtyard. The soldiers were not alarmed at the carriages which continued to arrive, accustomed as they were to seeing the duchess’ courtiers come to the palace; in those days business was earlier than in ours. The people, too, had not as yet assembled in great numbers. With their hands upon the doors of their carriages, the nobles impatiently waited the striking of the solemn hour.

Nine o’clock! The doors of all the carriages are thrown open simultaneously, the nobles descend, and while Jorge de Mello, Estevão da Cunha, Antonio de Mello e Castro, Father Nicolão da Maia, and others still wait in their carriages for the signal from the palace to attack the Spanish guard, the majority of the conspirators rapidly mount the stairs, enter the hall of the German archers, and giving them no time even to suspect what is about to happen, some throw down the stands of the halberds, others draw their swords, and the archers fly, astounded and disarmed. Some of them, whether because their halberds are not in the stands or because they are more determined, do their duty with a certain show of courage, and only fly after seeing two of their men fall to the ground, one dead, the other wounded. Meanwhile, drunk with joy, Dom Miguel de Almeida runs to a veranda, throws open the window, and brandishing a sword, cries out: “Liberty! Liberty! Long live the king Dom João IV. The duke de Braganza is our legitimate king!”

Tears prevented his further speech, and ran down to his white beard, which floated in the breeze blowing from the Tagus, whose waters were gilded by the sun riding triumphant in the heavens. He was answered by an immense cry of enthusiasm and joy; “Liberty! Liberty!” shouted the people with one voice. And in the heroic Dom Miguel de Almeida, this venerable old man of eighty years, radiant with youthful ardour, all saw the symbol of Portugal, decrepit and broken, but illuminated in this hour of her resurrection by the reflection of the splendour of her eras of glory. Those in the courtyard did not limit themselves merely to this unanimous response. Before the Spanish guard could grasp the meaning of the cry of liberty, which thundered above their heads, Jorge de Mello and his men fell upon them with drawn swords and pistols cocked. They attempted to resist, but the suddenness of the attack and the ardour of our men rendered resistance vain.

Meanwhile Miguel de Vasconcellos had been warned that something was occurring. He was yet in bed and had scarcely time to dress, when, following on the warning, a strange noise was heard in the corridors. Pale with fear he ran to the door and locked it on the inside, and immediately heard the nobles knocking furiously at the door, when the wood was shivered with the hatchets they had brought to break it down. Thereupon, seeing that he was lost, he seized a loaded musket and shut himself into a cupboard full of papers. There holding his breath, his forehead bathed with the sweat of anguish, he heard the door give way; the nobles entered like a torrent, and blaspheming, searched in every corner of the apartment. His safety hung on a thread; as, not finding him, the conspirators were about to make their way to the department of India, to which place they presumed he had fled, when the narrowness of his hiding-place caused Vasconcellos to make a slight movement. It was heard; with a shout of ferocious joy they rushed upon his hiding-place; a few shots were fired, two balls pierced his throat, and he fell dead, the blood spouting from him. After killing him, the avengers of their country abandoned him, and it was the servants who threw the body of the hated minister out of the window. When the tumultuous crowd of people who filled the courtyard saw the body of their oppressor thus contemptuously thrown out, they gave a roar of triumph and in the satisfying of their eagerly desired vengeance there was no insult which they did not heap on the pitiful remains.

While the nobles rushed from the secretary’s apartments to those of the vice-queen, the people with shouts of enthusiasm crossed the courtyard, shouting, “Liberty!” And meanwhile the rabble—who ever desecrate victory and insult the conquered, who to-day drag in the mire their oppressors and to-morrow their liberators—surrounded Vasconcellos’ body, dragging out his beard, putting out his eyes, and foolishly laughing at the infamous jests of a Moorish slave of the victim, who, seated on the corpse, mocked at and execrated him before whom he had trembled when alive. On the following day the body of the unfortunate wretch was yet in the courtyard, and seeing it João Pinto Ribeiro expressed his astonishment that none had shown Christian piety to him who had so cruelly expiated his faults. Some of Ribeiro’s men carried the body away in a skiff.

The duchess of Mantua had already heard the noise, and coming to the window, she cried out in a loud voice: “What is this, Portuguese? Where is your loyalty?” Meanwhile some of the conspirators, having forced open all the doors they had found closed, courteously compelled her to withdraw from the window. She wished to descend to the courtyard, and as the nobles prevented her: “Enough, gentlemen!” she cried, “the guilty minister has already paid for his sins. Go no further, I pledge my word that the king of Castile shall not merely pardon you, but shall thank you for having delivered the kingdom from the excesses of the secretary.” The nobles replied that they no longer recognised any king but Dom João de Braganza. This answer so enraged her that Dom Charles de Noronha begged her to retire before they lost respect for her. “For me!—how?” she inquired haughtily. “By obliging your highness to leave by the window, if you will not go in by this door,” replied the noble in tones equally haughty. Realising that under the circumstances resistance was folly, the princess gave way and withdrew to her oratory.

The nobles dispersed through the town to rouse public enthusiasm with the cry of victory, and in a short time the multitude rushed through the streets drunk with joy. A vast cry arose of “Miracle! miracle!” and from mouth to mouth the report spread, that the arm of the Christ on the crucifix, carried by one of the chaplains, had unnailed itself to bless the people. This incident, which probably had been prepared, produced an enormous effect, exciting the imagination and rousing popular enthusiasm. Many prisoners had been set at liberty, and it was feared that they would commit great acts of vengeance; but on the contrary numerous reconciliations took place of long standing enemies, and not one act of violence occurred throughout the city. At eleven in the morning the town had already peaceably resumed its usual occupations.

Meanwhile the government was careful to take all necessary measures to secure public order, stationing companies of militia at different posts. The fortresses surrendered peaceably and the commander of the galleons at anchor in the Tagus was convinced of the uselessness of bombardment and perhaps feared reprisals.

On the same day, Pedro de Mendonça and Jorge de Mello set out for Villa Viçosa; they found Dom João in the chapel, who having heard the news with calmness, commanded the divine office to be continued. This being concluded, he entered a carriage and set out for Lisbon escorted merely by a few mounted servants, being enthusiastically received in all the towns and lands through which he passed. He reached the capital on the 6th.

The speed with which the revolution spread in the provinces is a proof how eagerly liberty was desired. A few days sufficed for a yoke of sixty years[172] to be thrown off, and the Spanish monarchy, yet powerful, could not resist a disarmed and weak people, to whom invincible energy was lent by the thirst for liberty and the despair born of oppression.i

FOOTNOTES