Very different from this tale of decay is the history of the Portuguese

in Brazil during the same period, and the comparison shows clearly of

how much greater value is a colony than a dominion conquered and held by

the sword. The loyalty of the Portuguese colonists was shown by their

expulsion of the Dutch with hardly any assistance from the home

government, and the bonds of kinship enabled the Portuguese to maintain

their power in South America without the establishment and maintenance

of powerful armies. Indeed, one of the most valuable lessons taught by

the history of the daughter country, is that the less interference the

mother country makes in the affairs of its colony, the better it will be

for both countries. The material prosperity of Brazil in the seventeenth

century was due to the fact that during that period the colony was

essentially agricultural, and that there was therefore time for a large

and industrious population to collect, before gold was discovered in

large quantities. The production of tobacco and sugar was the staple

employment of the inhabitants, and the rapid development of these

resources caused the growth of a large fleet, not only to carry these

commodities to Europe, but to import the thousands of negro slaves, who

worked in the plantations. And it is here well to remark that at this

time the Portuguese settlers made no attempt to enslave the native

Brazilians, who were protected by the Jesuits and by edicts of the king,

but considered it perfectly just and right to make use of negro slaves.

This wise behaviour and the conduct of the Jesuits, who laboured

assiduously among the natives, placed them on friendly terms with their

conquerors, who soon began to intermarry with them. Owing to this

friendly relationship the interior of the continent was gradually opened

up, and at last gold was discovered in large quantities. It was

fortunate for the Portuguese that it had not been discovered before, for

otherwise they would certainly have lost their colony during the “Sixty

Years’ Captivity,” but at this time they were too strongly planted to be

expelled, and had besides the potent protection of the English navy. The

first discovery of gold on a large scale took place in 1699, and the

arrival of the first cargo at an opportune juncture gave King Pedro the

means he required for setting his army on foot. It must be remembered

that at this time there were no Californian or Australian gold fields,

and that the discovery of gold in Brazil was of more importance than it

would be now. King Pedro prepared to work this source of wealth in a

prudent manner; he did not attempt to make the gold fields a royal

monopoly, which the independent inhabitants of the captainships would

not have allowed, but demanded one-fifth of the total registered yearly

export. This left enough profit for the gold searchers, and as the

yearly revenue of the crown of Portugal from this source was at least

£300,000, it may be imagined that the kings of Portugal were well able

to maintain a splendid court at Lisbon in spite of the loss of the

Asiatic trade. No story is more interesting than this growth of Brazil

into the most valuable possession of Portugal; the land, which was at

first inhabited by convicts, surpassed in wealth the dominion won by the

noblest sons of the country.

[Illustration: text decoration]

[Illustration: text decoration]

XVI.

PORTUGAL IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. THE MARQUIS OF POMBAL.

The eighteenth century exhibits fewer features of interest than any

other throughout the whole history of Portugal. The country remained in

a political sense a mere province of England, and was bound by the

Methuen treaty to take a part in all the wars in which England was

engaged, and the importance of this arrangement became more and more

evident, when France and Spain were united by the close connection

brought about by the “Pacte de Famille.” The commercial relation was the

cause of more intimacy between the people of the two nationalities than

the political alliance, for it brought, as has been said, English

merchants and English capital into Portugal. But notwithstanding this

double bond of union the two allies remained entirely separate. The

Portuguese remained a race of bigoted Catholics, and the English made no

efforts to convert them. This difference of religion prevented any close

alliance between the reigning houses of the two countries, such as had

been brought about by the marriage of Charles II. to Catherine of

Braganza, for any marriage with a Catholic princess would have been

rejected by the statesmen and the people of England. While therefore

existing as an independent nation under the protection of England,

Portugal maintained its own national characteristics, and remained in

other respects more like Spain than any other country. The little state

was no longer in the vanguard of the march of European civilization; it

felt that its great days were past, and was content to remain in

stagnant quiet. For this reason, if for no other, the story of Portugal

loses its interest in the eighteenth century, for it was illustrated by

no great feat of arms, no national revolution or advance of national

progress, and it was at this time that in every point of view, literary

as well as political, it fell behind the other European nations. It was

inevitable that it should be so; a nation which depended on another for

its political independence, was not likely to produce heroes. It is

strange that the influence of English example did not give rise to a

movement for political freedom and representative institutions, but it

was not so; the monarchy remained absolutist and was prevented from

needing the support of the people by the wealth it derived from the gold

and the diamond mines of Brazil, and the Cortes was not once summoned

throughout the century. Yet this absolutism was not an unmixed evil, for

it produced a great minister, the Portuguese Richelieu, in the Marquis

of Pombal.

The reign of John V., the eldest son of Pedro II., who at once assumed

the royal power from the regent Catherine, was, though it commenced in

war, remarkable for the long continuance of peace. The War of the

Spanish Succession was still raging in the peninsula, and the first

campaign after the accession of the new monarch was marked by the great

defeat inflicted on the English and Portuguese by the French and

Spaniards at Almanza, on April 15, 1707, a battle in which it chanced

that the English were commanded by a Frenchman, Henri de Ruvigny, Lord

Galway, and the French by an Englishman James Fitz-James, Duke of

Berwick. Nevertheless John V., who was a young man of seventeen, in

spite of this disaster, kept true to the English alliance and the

Methuen treaty, and left the management of affairs in the hands of his

father’s minister and friend João de Mascarenhas, Duke of Cadaval. This

able statesman bound the king more surely to the Anglo-Austrian alliance

by marrying him to the Archduchess Marianna, daughter of the late

Emperor Leopold I., who was escorted to Lisbon by a powerful English

fleet under Admiral Sir George Byng, in 1708. The war continued,

however, to go steadily against the allies, for the Spaniards had

rallied enthusiastically around their Bourbon king, Philip V.; and on

May 7, 1709, a Portuguese army under the Marquis of Fronteira was

defeated on the banks of the Caia, by the Spaniards under the Marquis de

Bay. Far more serious was the capture of Rio de Janeiro, by the French

admiral, Duguay-Trouin, on September 23, 1711, which cut off all

supplies from Brazil for more than a year. The war languished all over

Europe after the accession of the Archduke Charles as Emperor, and on

February 6, 1715, nearly two years after the treaty of Utrecht, peace

was signed between Spain and Portugal, at Madrid, by the Secretary of

State, Diogo de Mendonça, Count of Corte-Real.

As soon as John V. began to mark out a policy for himself, after the

death of the Duke of Cadaval, he showed his distaste for war. He refused

to join in the war against Cardinal Alberoni, the famous minister of

Spain, and avoided as far as possible any combination which might lead

to the rupture of peace. The only expedition he sent out was a fleet,

which he equipped at the Pope’s bidding to join the Venetians in their

struggle against the Turks, and which, under the command of Lopo Furtado

de Mendonça, Count of Rio Grande, defeated the Mohammedans off Cape

Matapan in 1717. The main effort of King John’s foreign policy was to

combine a firm adherence to the Methuen treaty with friendly relations

with Spain, by which he hoped to avoid war. For this purpose he always

kept on the best of terms with the English ambassadors at Lisbon,

notably with Lord Tyrawley; and in 1729 he closely allied himself with

the new dynasty in Spain. His daughter, Donna Maria Josepha de Braganza,

was married to Don Ferdinand, eldest son of Philip V., who succeeded to

the throne of Spain as Ferdinand VI.; while the Spanish infanta, Donna

Marianna Victoria de Bourbon, was married to the heir-apparent of

Portugal, Dom Joseph. With the papacy John V. remained on the best of

terms; he lent enormous sums of money to successive popes out of the

wealth of Brazil, and in return received rewards, which were of no real

value, but which were such as he highly esteemed. Lisbon was divided

into two dioceses; the Archbishopric of Lisbon was erected into a

patriarchate; the patriarch was allowed to officiate in vestments

resembling those of the Pope, and his canons in imitation of those of

the cardinals; and, finally, in the last year of his reign, the title of

“Fidelissimus,” or “Most Faithful,” was conferred upon the kings of

Portugal, to correspond with those of “Most Christian” and “Most

Catholic,” attributed to the kings of France and Spain respectively.

These are the only points of interest, which mark John V.’s long reign

of forty-four years, and as the last thirty-five of these years were

years of peace, it may well be said, happy is the reign which has but

little history. But it must not be thought that he therefore left no

impression upon his country. On the contrary, he did much to imprint his

name on its history. He showed a tendency, like so many other princes of

the eighteenth century, to imitate Louis XIV. He spent much money in

building, and among his most famous efforts in this direction are the

patriarchal church at Lisbon, the superb convent at Mafra, and the great

aqueduct which still supplies Lisbon with water. He was a munificent

patron of literature and the arts, and founded the Academy of History at

Lisbon in 1720. He loved music and the theatre, and spent great sums in

importing singers and dancers from Italy and actors from France. He took

an intelligent interest in the administration of his kingdom, and for

the better despatch of business formed three secretaryships of state for

the home, foreign and war, and colonial and naval, departments instead

of one, and he took a particular pride in his navy, and founded the

naval arsenal of Lisbon. One other fact also may be recorded to his

credit, that in 1725 he obtained a Bull from Pope Benedict XIII.,

allowing all prisoners of the Inquisition to employ counsel to defend

them, and ordering that all sentences of the Holy Office should be

communicated to and confirmed by the king in council. This excellent

monarch had a paralytic stroke in 1742, and for the last eight years of

his reign, until his death in 1750, the kingdom was governed by the

queen, and the Cardinal da Cunha, Patriarch of Lisbon.

The reign of King Joseph, which lasted from 1750 to 1777, is made famous

by the administration of the Marquis of Pombal, the greatest minister

who ever ruled Portugal, and one of the greatest of eighteenth-century

statesmen. The king, though a man of real ability himself, interfered

but little in politics, and left the management of affairs entirely in

the hands of the minister, whose greatness he was the first to perceive.

The relationship between the monarch and his subject resembles that

between Louis XIII. and Richelieu, and does honour to both parties. In

everything--in his great internal administrative reforms, in his

financial schemes, in the reorganization of the army, in the abolition

of slavery, and in the struggle with the Jesuits, which ended in the

suppression of that famous order--King Joseph supported his minister.

Pombal broke the power of the nobility, and made the king more absolute

than ever, and he exalted the royal prerogative, while using it for his

measures of reform; while, in return, the king maintained the minister

in power, in spite of the vehement protests and wily intrigues of the

Roman Catholic clergy, and the opposition of his wife.

Sebastião José de Carvalho e Mello, better known by his later title of

the Marquis of Pombal, was a man of more than fifty years of age when

his patron succeeded to the throne, and he himself entered office. His

father, Emmanuel de Carvalho, was a country gentleman of moderate

wealth, but by his mother, Theresa de Mendonça, he was related to some

of the noblest families of Portugal, to the Almeidas, the Mellos and the

Mendonças. He was born at Soure, on May 13, 1699, and after receiving

his education at the University of Coimbra, he entered the army as a

private. He found neither pleasure nor profit in a military career in

time of peace, and after leaving the service, he led the life of a man

about town in Lisbon. His handsome face, great bodily strength, and

proficiency in athletic exercises, made him popular in all circles of

society in the capital, in spite of his comparative poverty, and he

especially distinguished himself, if distinction it may be called, among

the “Mohocks,” who infested the streets of Lisbon. There seemed no

prospect of his ever making any mark in life, when in 1733 he made

himself the talk of the town by his elopement with, or rather his

abduction of, a lady of the highest rank, Donna Theresa de Noronha,

niece of the Count of Arcos. His wife’s family were at first most

indignant, but at last they relented, and in 1739 the bravo of the

streets of Lisbon was, by their influence, appointed ambassador to the

Court of England. It is some consolation for men of advanced years to

remember that the greatest of Portuguese ministers was forty years of

age before he ever received official employment. In London Sebastião de

Carvalho turned over a new leaf, and devoted himself to the serious

study of politics, and he carefully investigated the English system of

government and the causes of England’s commercial prosperity. From

London he was removed to the Court of Vienna in 1745, and he there

married, on the death of his first wife, a daughter of Count Daun, the

famous Austrian general. On this occasion King John V. was pleased out

of compliment to the victor of Kolin, to grant Sebastião de Carvalho

letters of nobility, which entitled him to the prefix Dom; and in 1750

the ambassador was recalled to Portugal and appointed Secretary of State

for Foreign Affairs. While he was on his way home John V. died, and when

Carvalho reached Lisbon King Joseph had already ascended the throne.

[Illustration: THE MARQUIS OF POMBAL.

(_From a Print in the British Museum._)]

At first the new Secretary of State held no higher rank than his

colleagues, but his abilities soon became evident to the king, and his

conduct at the time of the great earthquake of Lisbon gave him unbounded

ascendency over the mind of the monarch. This terrible catastrophe took

place on November 1, 1755. The population of the city was collected in

the churches listening to the solemn services of All Saints Day, when

the first shock of earthquake was felt; it was followed at intervals by

three others, which laid half the city in ruins. Most of the unfortunate

people, who managed to escape from the falling houses and churches,

rushed to the quays. But the disturbance affected the sea also; an

immense tidal wave swept the quays, and washed off thousands of the

fugitives, while the ships in the river were driven on shore. No element

of horror was missing, for fires broke out in all parts of the wrecked

city, and the scum of the populace rushed hither and thither, murdering

and robbing those whom the calamities of nature had spared. At this

fearful juncture the king and Carvalho showed the greatest courage and a

most unshaken firmness of demeanour. To the demands of the monarch as to

what was to be done, the minister answered laconically, “Bury the dead

and feed the living,” and for eight days and nights he lived in his

carriage, driving from place to place, whithersoever his presence was

needed, and repressing disorder. The news of the disaster spread all

over Europe; at least thirty thousand people, according to some accounts

one hundred thousand people, lost their lives, and foreign nations were

not backward in assisting the remnant of the people of Lisbon. In

England the pity felt was keener than anywhere else, owing to the close

relationship between the two nations, and large sums of money and great

quantities of provisions were promptly despatched from London to

Portugal. The catastrophe made an extraordinary impression on the minds

of all contemporaries; in London over twenty accounts were published

within the year, apart from notices in magazines, and Voltaire in his

“Candide” gave a full and, on the whole, very accurate description of

it.

Carvalho’s energy at this time established his reputation with the king,

and he felt able to commence his campaigns against the nobility and the

Jesuits. In order that he might have his time free for matters of such

importance he was made Prime Minister in 1756, with power over all

departments of administration, and his friend, Luis da Cunha, was

appointed Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in his place. Of his

long series of administrative reforms, and his efforts to improve the

condition of the country, which were spread over his government of

twenty-seven years, it will be better to speak as a whole; but a special

description must here be given of his campaign against the Jesuits,

which brought about the suppression of that famous order. It is not

necessary to speculate on the various motives, which induced Carvalho to

attack the Jesuits, but the principal cause lay in the fact that they

were wealthy and powerful, and therefore a dangerous force in an

absolutist monarchy. It must be remembered that the Jesuits of the

eighteenth century formed a very different class of men to their

predecessors. They were no longer intrepid missionary pioneers, but a

corporation of wealthy traders, who made use of their spiritual position

to further the cause of their commerce. They had done a great work in

America by opening up the interior of Brazil and converting the natives,

and their administration of Paraguay, one of the most interesting

achievements in the whole history of Christianity, was without doubt a

blessing to the people. But by the middle of the eighteenth century they

had gone too far. It was one thing to convert the natives of Brazil, and

another to absorb much of the wealth of that country, in doing which

they prejudiced not only the Crown, but the Portuguese people, whom

they kept from settling in the territory under their rule. Whether it

was a sufficient reason for Carvalho to attack the order because it was

wealthy and powerful, and had departed from its primitive simplicity, is

a question for every one to decide for themselves, but that this was the

reason, and that the various excuses alleged by the admirers of the

great minister are without foundation, is an undoubted fact. On

September 19, 1757, the first important blow was struck, when the king’s

Jesuit confessor was dismissed, and all Jesuits were forbidden to come

to Court. Carvalho, in the name of the King of Portugal, also formally

denounced the order at Rome, and Benedict XIV., the then Pope, appointed

the Cardinal de Saldanha, a friend of the minister, Visitor and Reformer

of the Society of Jesus. The cardinal did not take long in making up his

mind, and May 15, 1758, he forbade the Jesuits to engage in trade.

An attempt upon the king’s life, which shortly followed this measure,

gave the minister the opportunity he wanted for urging the suppression

of the famous society. The history of the Tavora plot, which culminated

in this attempt is one of the most mysterious affairs in the whole

history of Portugal, and from the many contradictory accounts which have

been published, it is almost impossible to arrive at the exact truth.

But it is certain that the Jesuits and the nobles had no reason to love

the king and his minister, and it is hardly to be wondered at that their

opposition resulted in violent measures. The great nobles had been

systematically deprived of all political power since the accession of

King Joseph, for Carvalho, like Richelieu, distrusted them, and

preferred to employ men of his own rank in life or of bourgeois descent

in public business in preference to noblemen and their relations. The

three leaders of the plot were the Duke of Aveiro, a descendant of John

II., and one of the greatest noblemen in Portugal, the Marquis of

Tavora, who had filled with credit the post of Governor-general of

India, and the Count of Atouguia, a descendant of the gallant Dom Luis

de Athaide, the defender of Goa; but the heart and soul of the

conspiracy was the Marchioness of Tavora, a beautiful and ambitious

woman, who was bitterly offended because her husband had not been made a

duke. The confessor of this lady was a Jesuit named Gabriel Malagrida,

who is by some authors treated as a half-insane fanatic, and by others

as a dangerous intriguer, incensed by the attacks of Carvalho upon his

order. Whether Malagrida was innocent or guilty, whether he was mad or

sane, whether the Tavoras were incited by religious or political

motives, or merely by a desire for private revenge, whether all these

noblemen, and especially the Duke of Aveiro, were not merely accused in

order to allow Carvalho to strike a blow at the nobility, whether,

finally, all those who were punished were victims of the minister or

really guilty, are questions which cannot be determined here. The

evidence on all sides is most contradictory, and all that is certain is

that the king was fired at and wounded on the night of September 3,

1758; and that in the following January, the three noblemen who have

been mentioned, the Marchioness of Tavora, Malagrida with seven other

Jesuits, and many other individuals of all ranks of life, were arrested

as implicated in the attempt to murder. The laymen had but a short

trial, and, together with the marchioness, were publicly executed ten

days after their arrest.

King Joseph certainly believed that the real culprits had been seized,

and in his gratitude he created Carvalho, Count of Oeyras, and

encouraged him to pursue his campaign against the Jesuits. On January

19, 1759, the estates belonging to the society were sequestrated; and on

September 3rd, all its members were expelled from Portugal, and

directions were sent to the viceroys of India and Brazil to expel them

likewise. The news of this bold stroke was received with admiration

everywhere, except at Rome, and it became noised abroad that a great

minister was ruling in Portugal. The elder Pitt, who was anxious that

Portugal should join in the Seven Years’ War, publicly acknowledged the

ability of the Count of Oeyras, and at his demand apologized for the

infraction of the law of nations, which had been committed by the

English Admiral Boscawen’s attack upon the French squadron under La

Clue, in the Portuguese harbour of Lagos.

The Count of Oeyras had no desire to take part in the general war raging

in Europe, and refused to accede to Pitt’s wishes, until the King of

Spain, according to the arrangement of the “Pacte de Famille,” attacked

Portugal, as being a declared enemy of the Franco-Spanish alliance owing

to the Methuen treaty with England. The Spaniards under the Marquis of

Sarria invaded the northern provinces of Portugal in 1762, and captured

in rapid succession the towns of Miranda, Braganza, and Almeida. Then

the Count of Oeyras appealed to the English statesman, and not in vain.

English soldiers and munitions of war were at once despatched to Lisbon,

and, at the special request of the minister, a general in English pay,

the Count of Lippe-Buckeburg, with some English officers and sergeants,

were sent to reorganize the Portuguese army as Schomberg had done in the

century before. The Count of Lippe, assisted by the energy of the

Portuguese minister, quickly formed the Portuguese troops into a

disciplined army, and on the arrival of Brigadier-General John Burgoyne,

a gallant cavalry officer, who had distinguished himself at Belle-isle,

but who is better known in English history from his surrender at

Saratoga, to take command of the English troops, the allied army

advanced. They were uniformly successful; the Spaniards lost all their

former advantages; they were defeated at Valencia de Alcantara, where

the English took three standards and a Spanish general; and on October

5th Burgoyne stormed the entrenched camp of Villa Velha, and ended the

campaign. The Spaniards were now quite ready to give in, and on February

10, 1763, peace was signed between Portugal and Spain. The Count of

Oeyras had learnt a lesson from the contrast between the two campaigns,

and when Burgoyne and his English soldiers returned to England, the

Count of Lippe-Buckeburg was requested to remain, and he not only

reorganized the Portuguese army, but put all the Portuguese fortresses

on the Spanish frontier, and especially Elvas, in thorough repair,

according to the received ideas of fortification.

The Story of the Nations: Portugal · 第 21 / 28 段