No claimant's case is more remarkable than that of Don Sebastian of
Portugal, exhibiting, as it does, the tenacity of tradition; for,
although more than two hundred years had elapsed since their
sovereign's death, hopes of his return were entertained down to the
beginning of the present century by his superstitious countrymen, who
cherished his memory much as the memory of those semi-mythical
monarchs--Arthur of England, and Barbarossa of Germany--was cherished
by their respective countrymen in the middle ages.
Don Sebastian, King of Portugal, led by an insane desire to emulate the
deeds of his ancestors against the Arabs, availed himself of every
opportunity of mixing in the dynastic quarrels of the Moors. In 1578,
contrary to the wishes and remonstrances of his allies, relatives, and
people, he accompanied an expedition to Africa, with the avowed purpose
of setting the Cross above the Crescent, but virtually in hopes of
gaining a warrior's renown. His first battle on the field of
Alcacarquivir was as ill-fated as it was ill-advised; the Portuguese
army was cut to pieces, and Sebastian, so it was supposed, was amongst
the slain. After the fight, a corse, recognized by one of the
survivors as the King's, was discovered by the victorious Moors, and
forwarded by the Emperor of Morocco as a present to his ally, Philip
the Second of Spain. In 1582 this monarch restored it to the
Portuguese, by whom it was interred with all due solemnity in the royal
mausoleum in the church of Our Lady of Belem.
The Crown of Portugal, upon the intelligence of Sebastian's death,
devolved upon Don Henry, an elderly Cardinal, who, enjoying a brief
reign of seventeen months, died without leaving any heirs. After a
short but decisive struggle, Portugal fell an easy prey to Philip of
Spain, but he was not long allowed to enjoy quiet possession of the
usurped realm. The people had never credited the account of their
idolized monarch's death, and rumour after rumour had been circulated
to prove his existence. Three claimants to the name and title of the
slain Sebastian arose, one after the other, to disturb and perplex the
country, and afford the Spanish pretexts for further plunder and
murder. Although these three played their part well, and occasioned
the Government much trouble, there is little doubt as to their having
been impostors; but over one, a fourth pretender, still hangs a cloud
of impenetrable mystery.
This last aspirant appeared at Venice about twenty years after the
battle of Alcacarquivir, a very plausible account of his escape from
which he was enabled to give, further stating that he had subsequently
reached Portugal, and revealed his presence there to his great uncle
Henry, who was then reigning; but as he had then stated that, sick and
broken-hearted at his overthrow by the infidel, he had no present
intention of resuming his sceptre, no notice was taken of the
notification. As soon as his wounds were healed, the _soi disant_ Don
Sebastian stated, he, and two Portuguese nobles who were alleged to
have saved themselves in his company, started on their travels, and
travelled over Europe, Africa, and Asia, visiting the colonial
possessions of Portugal, and even taking a personal share with the
Persians in their war against the Turks. The King also paid visits to
the Grand Llama of Thibet, and to Prester John in Ethiopia,
encountering no end of marvellous adventures on his journeys, during
which, however, his two companions, worn out with wounds and fatigues,
succumbed to death. The royal wanderer then retired to a hermitage in
the Georgian desert, and stayed there until the year 1597, when,
admonished by a dream to resume his crown, he returned to Europe. He
landed in Sicily, and at once despatched letters to several of his most
attached nobles in Portugal. Catizoni, his messenger, was arrested on
landing, and never heard of again; but through some unknown channels
the tidings of which he was the bearer transpired, and threw the whole
country into a profound state of excitement. Had the _soi disant_
monarch had courage to have landed in Portugal at this time, it is
pretty generally believed that, whatever may have been the value of his
claims to the name of Don Sebastian, the whole people would have
acknowledged his rights; as one writer says, the nation "would have
acknowledged a negro to be their lost king, so that he delivered them
from the hated rule of the Spaniards."
Wanting the resolution, or the means, to seek Portugal, the claimant
fell from one state of wretchedness to another, until, at last, it is
averred he was discovered by some compatriots in Padua selling pies in
the street for a livelihood. Convinced that they had discovered their
legitimate sovereign, the Portuguese residents and exiles at once
acknowledged his claims, and supplied him with all the necessaries of
life. Apprised of this event, the Spanish ambassador immediately
requested the Venetian senate to banish the "insolent adventurer" from
their states. The Podesta of Padua being commanded by the Seignory to
banish from his city within three days "a man calling himself falsely
Sebastian, King of Portugal," and this mandate being communicated to
the _soi disant_ monarch, he boldly repaired to Venice, and requested
the Senate, the only free tribunal in Europe, to investigate his
claims. Upon his arrival, he was seized and thrown into a dungeon, at
the instance of Philip's ambassador, who suborned witnesses to accuse
him of horrible crimes. This, however, caused his pretensions to be
speedily noised about all over Europe. A large number of the
Portuguese in Italy presented several petitions to the Senate, calling
upon it to investigate the prisoner's claims, whilst Sampayo, a
Dominican of considerable influence in Padua, wrote and published a
full statement of the facts, and dedicated it to the potentates of
Europe.
In the meantime the Spaniards were not idle. They averred that the
claimant was a Calabrese impostor, of bad repute, if not a renegade
monk; they alluded to the gross improbabilities in his story, and the
little likelihood there was of Sebastian, even if he had escaped from
the battle of Alcacarquivir, remaining out of the pale of civilization
for twenty years without affording anyone an intimation of his
existence. They pointed out that the pretender's Portuguese was
anything but pure, and that whereas Sebastian's complexion was fair
this man's was dark.
Sampayo, on behalf of the prisoner, replied that the king's wounded
pride at his defeat, and youthful feelings of self-dependence, had
carried him into all his romantic wanderings, whilst his fair
complexion and native accent had necessarily changed during twenty
years' rambling in the sultry lands which he had visited.
Whilst this discussion was going on, the prisoner was being severely
examined by the Venetian Senate, and displayed, so all averred, such
knowledge of their most secret dealings with the true Don Sebastian as
fairly startled them. He declared himself ready to undergo the
punishment of death if his claims were proved to be unfounded, and
petitioned that he might be personally examined for any marks which the
King of Portugal had been known to possess. The Portuguese residents
warmly supporting the latter part of the memorial, the Seignory granted
their request, and sent Sampayo with a safe conduct to Lisbon to
ascertain these distinctive marks, and to get a written declaration of
them signed by competent people. After an absence of two months the
Dominican returned, with an attestation, witnessed by persons who had
been attached to the late royal household, and countersigned by the
apostolical notary, as a proof of the document's genuineness.
During Sampayo's absence the Spanish Government had made such forcible
representations to the Venetian Senate, that on his return the Doge
stated "it did not beseem the Republic to take cognizance of the claims
of the pretender to the Portuguese Crown, unless at the request of a
member of the family of European potentates." Nothing daunted, the
unwearied envoy of the _soi disant_ Sebastian undertook a journey to
Holland to procure the intervention of the House of Nassau. His
exertions were aided by the warm support of several Portuguese nobles,
and by the influence of Henry the Fourth of France, who, through his
ambassador at Venice, intimated that if the Dutch intercession failed,
France would take the claimant under her protection. The States of
Holland, however, having requested the Italian Republic to proceed with
the inquiry, the Spanish ambassador withdrew his protest, and
commissioners were appointed to examine the prisoner for the bodily
peculiarities which the king was known to have possessed.
These peculiarities were alleged to be "a right hand longer and larger
than the left; the upper part of the arms longer than the part between
the elbow and the wrist; a deep scar above the right eyebrow; a tooth
missing from the lower jaw, and a large excrescence or wart on the
instep of the right foot." An investigation of the prisoner was then
made, in the presence of Sampayo, by four Venetian officers of justice;
and they reported that not only were all these peculiarities found upon
him, but that his head and face bore the scars of sabre wounds; whilst,
when his jaw was being examined, he had asked whether Sebastian Nero,
the Court barber at Lisbon, who had extracted the tooth, was still
alive.
The next day this evidence was laid before the senate, which held a
secret deliberation of four days' duration, shared in by the Spanish
ambassador and Don Christavao de Portugal, an apparent advocate of the
captive. The threats of Philip are alleged to have overpowered the
intentions of the Seignory, and, accordingly when, at ten o'clock at
night, on the fourth day of the conference, the claimant was brought
before them, they, without expressing any opinion respecting his
identity with Don Sebastian, simply repeated the mandate formerly sent
to the Podesta of Padua, banishing the person who styled himself King
of Portugal from the Venetian states within the space of three days.
Sampayo, and the Portuguese with him, declare that a seat was provided
for the prisoner; and that whilst he remained covered during the
reading of the decree the senators stood around respectfully. This
averred deference, and the evasion of a direct award after so lengthy
and solemn an assemblage, confirmed even waverers in the belief that
the pretender was indeed the true Sebastian.
Whatever may have been the belief or reason of the senate, they
contented themselves with banishing the _soi disant_ monarch, and
refused to deliver him up to the Spanish ambassador. Countenanced by
all the enemies of Spain, the claimant now sought refuge in Tuscany,
_en route_, it is said, to Rome, to claim the protection and
recognition of his claims by the reigning Pontiff, Clement the Eighth.
The Grand Duke Ferdinand, desirous of propitiating his powerful foe
Philip, is alleged to have made an agreement with him, that if the
adventurer entered the Tuscan territories he should be at once arrested
and delivered up to the custody of the Spanish. Be this as it may, the
pretender was seized as he was attempting to leave the Grand Duke's
dominions, put on board a small frigate, taken to Naples, and delivered
up to the Conde de Lemos, Philip's viceroy.
The unfortunate man, according to popular story, was placed in a
dungeon, and starved for three days, in order to compel him to confess
his imposture. When the three days had expired he was visited by the
Auditor-General, and urged to acknowledge his fraud. "Do with me as
you please, and say what you will, I am King Sebastian," is reported to
have been his response. Subsequently taken before the Viceroy, he is
alleged to have referred to certain secret political transactions which
took place at Lisbon when the Conde de Lemos had been ambassador there.
Notwithstanding this revelation, the Conde affirmed his conviction that
"the prisoner was an impostor;" but had him transferred from his
dungeon to a pleasant chamber overlooking the Bay of Naples, and
allotted him the sum of five crowns daily for his support.
For a twelvemonth the claimant was left in peaceful possession of his
cell, when another insurrection breaking out in the Portuguese
possessions, a mandate arrived from Madrid, directing the claimant to
be returned to his dungeon, and again interrogated. He persisted in
his protestations, and begged to be sent to Lisbon, where his
statements might be strictly investigated. This was refused, and
sentence pronounced upon him as "a vagabond, impostor, and liar;" and
he was condemned to the galleys for life, after being paraded through
the streets of Naples on an ass, whilst his imposture was proclaimed by
the public crier. On the 17th April, 1602, this punishment was carried
out. "Behold the justice and severity of his Catholic Majesty! He
commands that this miserable man shall be degraded and condemned for
life to the galleys, because he falsely and flagitiously declares
himself to be the late Don Sebastian, King of Portugal, when he is but
a vile impostor from Calabria!" was the proclamation made as the
prisoner was taken through the streets of Naples. He was then clothed
in the garb of a galley slave, and, according to some authorities,
publicly flogged, all the while calmly and positively reiterating his
assertion that he was Sebastian, King of Portugal.
According to contemporary chronicles, his head was then shaved, and his
hands and feet put in irons; he was then sent to the galleys, and
compelled to row. He was afterwards carried on board a vessel and
taken to St. Lucar, at that time the largest convict station of Spain.
During the voyage the prisoner's irons were removed, and his labours
suspended. When the galley arrived at St. Lucar, the Duke and Duchess
of Medina Sidonia are asserted to have seen the captive and conversed
with him; and a curious story is told of the interview. The Duke and
his consort had formerly given Don Sebastian a magnificent
entertainment when on his ill-fated expedition to Africa, and the
Portuguese monarch had then presented a sword to his host and a
valuable ring to the Duchess. Upon the claimant's arrival at St.
Lucar, the Duke desired to be allowed to try and select him from
amongst the other felons, but failed to recognize him. The _soi
disant_ King was then introduced to the nobleman and his wife, and
recounted many incidents of their interview with Don Sebastian. He
asked the Duke if he still possessed the sword which he had presented
him upon that occasion, saying that he could identify it if conducted
to the ducal armoury. Hearing this the Duke called for several swords,
but upon their production the prisoner exclaimed, "My sword is not
amongst these!" Another quantity of swords, this time including the
veritable weapon, were now produced, and, so runs the story, the weapon
was instantly recognized and unsheathed by the claimant. He then
reminded the Duchess of the ring given her by Sebastian as a memento of
his visit, and asked if she still retained it. She thereupon sent for
her jewel-case and desired him to select it from amongst more than a
hundred rings which it contained, and this he did immediately.
The Duke and Duchess of Medina Sidonia, it is averred, then departed
sadly, and sorrowing at such an evidently unjust detention; but it is
somewhat singular, and throws much doubt upon the anecdote, that no
record appears of them having ever attempted to obtain an amelioration
of the captive's lot, which, from their position and interest at the
Spanish court, they could, undoubtedly, have procured.
The unfortunate pretender was now removed to Seville, but Sampayo
having excited an insurrection in Portugal, he was again taken to St.
Lucar, and on the 20th April, 1603, was hanged from its highest
bastion. The Dominican, and several other of the claimant's adherents,
suffered the same fate shortly afterwards.