Asked his advice about how to foment a revolution and found a republic, Jefferson, apparently, as a diplomat, could promise nothing more than his moral support. The envoy who met him died on the way back to Brazil, but the conspiracy in Minas went ahead and grew over-bold. It was found out, and all the “Inconfidentes” were drastically punished. One committed suicide, most were sent into exile in Angola, and Tiradentes himself was brutally executed, being hung, drawn and quartered. His house was destroyed and the ground where it stood was sprinkled with salt, in the good old medieval way.
The little “School of Minas,” if it can really be called a school, was wiped out, and not only was the first Brazilian movement for independence destroyed but also the first real attempt at a literary movement in the country. The brave but impractical “Arcadian” poets of ’89 could not arouse their country or do battle like our hard-headed small farmers of ’76. But Tiradentes has remained the greatest national hero of Brazil; “Toothpuller Day” is a holiday; almost every town in Brazil has its Tiradentes square or street; and rebellion against Portugal had begun, although independence was not to come for thirty-three more years and then not in the form of a revolution at all.
Chapter 3
The history of South America in the 19th century resembles Shakespeare’s battle scenes: shouts and trumpets; small armies on-stage, small armies off-stage; Bolívar here, Bolívar there; bloodshed, death-scenes, and long pauses in the action for fine speeches. But Brazil differed from the rest of the continent in two ways. First, while all the other countries rebelled against Spanish rule and finally broke up, into nine republics, Brazil managed to remain politically united. It had its minor civil wars, and secessions, some lasting several years, but it always pulled itself together again. And second, it had no real revolution or war of independence. It was ruled by the House of Braganza right down until 1889, and it still has a Braganza Pretender to the throne, — rather, with typical tropical proliferation of species, it has two Pretenders, first cousins.
The long period of relative stability enjoyed by Brazil in the 19th century gave it great advantages: a strong feeling of national unity and almost a century of history in which it still takes pride. But the pride is tinged with saudades, nostalgia, sometimes even despair. Brazilians feel that the national honor, international reputation, foreign credit — even the size and prestige of their Navy — have never again stood so high.
Modern Brazilian history begins with Napoleon. Everyone knows that he created an Empire and crowned himself Emperor. But it is not so well known that as a sort of by-product of the Napoleonic Empire the Empire of Brazil was also created, and lasted much longer than Napoleon’s — sixty-seven years, to be exact. Not to be compared to the Roman Empire, to be sure, but remarkably long to have held out in the 19th century with revolutions crashing like thunderstorms in all the neighboring countries, and the forces of liberalism, equalitarianism, and republicanism growing stronger and more articulate all the time.
Many of the new countries of the West felt that the old monarchical system might still be the best way of stabilizing their governments. Argentina shopped around unsuccesfully for years for a suitable European prince, and the experiment was tried in Mexico and failed dismally, with Maximilian. Even the United States had its small movement to make Washington the founder of a dynasty. But in the paradoxical way things often seem to happen in Brazil, what brought the country eventual political independence from Portugal was the arrival of the Portuguese royal family.
* * *
In 1807 Napoleon was trying to force Portugal to join his blockade against England and the Napoleonic armies were closing in on Lisbon. Maria I, the Queen, had long been insane, and her son, Dom João, was Regent. Portugal had been almost a protectorate of England for a hundred years. Caught, as the historian C. H. Haring puts it, “between the military imperialism of Napoleon and the economic imperialism of Great Britain,” Dom João, never decisive at best, shilly-shallied. At the last possible moment he settled for Great Britain, and Britain decided for safety’s sake to move the whole royal family and court to Brazil.
It was one of the strangest hegiras in history. In a state of near panic, the mad Queen, Dom João, his estranged wife (who was a little mad, too), their children, and the entire Portuguese court, — some fifteen thousand people — were squeezed aboard forty-two or — three merchant vessels. Under British escort they took off for Brazil, the unknown, romantic colony where all their wealth — and all their sugar — came from. The voyage was a nightmare of storms, sea-sickness, short rations, and stinking water. The courtiers behaved so badly that a royal command was issued that “only nautical subjects” were to be discussed. Meanwhile, Pedro, the nine-year-old heir-apparent, discoursed learnedly with his tutors on the Aeneid (according to the tutors’ reports) and compared his father’s plight to that of Aeneas. However, as Octavio Tarquinio de Souza, the best Brazilian historian of the Empire period, says: “Dom João saved the dynasty, and took with him intact the greatest treasures of the kingdom, including art, jewels, and books [sixty thousand of them, the nucleus of the present National Library] to the lands where he would found a great empire.”
After fifty-two hideous days they reached Bahia, but it was not considered safe enough for them, so they went on to Rio. They were received with mad rejoicing. Only poor distracted Queen Maria, seeing Negros prancing around her sedan-chair, thought that she was in Hell and screamed that the devils were after her. Almost immediately Dom João issued his first Royal Letter, declaring the ports of Brazil open to “all friendly nations” (meaning England, mostly); he also won more popularity by allowing printing-presses, newspapers, goldsmiths, and many small industries to be set up. Brazil felt itself changed from a much-abused colony to an independent power, almost over-night.
Rio was a hot, squalid, waterfront city of about twenty thousand inhabitants, without sewage or water-supply. The royal family, oddly enough, settled down and began to like their new home and its easy-going ways. But the court in general hated everything and were hated in return by the Brazilians — a reaction that was to have serious political consequences. There were no carriages; the food was bad; they were afraid of the thunderstorms that bounced from peak to peak around the bay (the way they still do), afraid of the Negro slaves, afraid of the tropical diseases, — and it is true that they died off like flies during the first few years.
But the thirteen-year stay of the court changed Rio into a capital city and changed the state of affairs in much of Brazil. The administration of justice was somewhat improved; taxes lowered; the first bank founded; the naval academy and schools of medicine and surgery were established, as well as a library and the Botanical Gardens (still famous). The Regent was fond of music and the theatre. He brought an orchestra with him; he also became an addict of Negro music and entertainments. In 1815 Portugal was rid of the French, and in 1816 he invited a French Commission, architects, musicians, painters, and sculptors, to visit Brazil. He started a royal palace on the outskirts of the city. The mad Queen died, and the Regent became Dom João VI of Portugal and I of Brazil.