The History of the Revolutions of Portugal

The courts of Lisbon and Madrid, jealous of the great population and rapid civilization of countries situated so near to their most important colonies, united to rob the Jesuits of the fruit of their labours, and to divide the spoil between them. In vain these holy fathers represented their lawful claim to lands, which had been particularly granted to them, and the injustice of committing such an outrage on a free people, who, though they had embraced the Christian religion, and adopted European manners, never intended bowing their necks to the yoke of foreign powers. The just reasons alledged by the Jesuits were treated as acts of rebellion, and an armed force immediately invaded their colonies. The Indians made all the resistance in their power, but were presently overcome by the superior skill and experience of European troops. A small number amongst them submitted to their new masters, whilst the rest, accompanied by their holy comforters, went farther up the country, and formed another settlement.

The war of the missionaries bore a very serious aspect at Lisbon; and Carvalho dispatched his brother to terminate it as soon as possible. The effects of this war proved in the end very fatal to the Jesuits, for it prejudiced the king strongly against them, and certainly prepared the way for their destruction. A very short time afterwards, Joseph the First not only banished all father confessors of that order from the court of Lisbon, but every other Jesuit who held employments of whatsoever nature.40

Such about this time became the distressed state of the finances of Portugal, that the gold of Brazil became an object of the greatest importance to the minister. The usual annual importation of gold from that country he knew to amount to forty millions of French livres, whilst he also knew, that there were not more than fifteen millions, and those too not without alloy, in circulation throughout the whole of Portugal. He accordingly published an edict, forbidding the exportation of gold out of the kingdom. England was greatly alarmed at this intelligence; and government thought the affair of too much importance to trust to the common mode of representation; lord Tyrawley was therefore sent ambassador to Lisbon, with the strictest injunctions to prevent the effect of this edict; but neither his repeated expostulations, nor the threatened hostilities of his court, were of any avail to cause its revocation.

The establishment of several new manufactories in Portugal, occasioned fresh complaints on the part of the English, which were treated with as little attention as the former one.41

In the mean time Portugal was on the eve of sinking under a blow which no human prudence could possibly foresee or avert, and which was still more dreadful, from its not being preceded by any of those signs which usually presage such awful events.

Never did the horizon appear more clear, nor the sun shine more bright than on the 1st of November, in the year 1755, and never did the Portugueze prepare to celebrate All-Saints’ Day under more favourable auspices; when, near the hour of ten, invited by the beauty of the weather, and the solemnity of the festival, the people with religious haste flocked towards the churches, the earth suddenly shook under their feet; clouds of dust darkened the sun; the musical instruments, which invited them to partake of the holy mysteries, sounded no more; repeated and violent shocks of an earthquake were felt; houses with terrific noise fell to the ground on every side; the most solid edifices were thrown down; the magnificent palace of the kings of Portugal was entirely destroyed, and scarcely could those who inhabited it, find time to escape from being buried under the ruins.

Such of the inhabitants of Lisbon who were fortunate enough to avoid being crushed by the rubbish of their fallen dwellings, knew not where to seek a place of refuge. Some amongst them flew to the churches, which presently became their tombs, whilst others, dreading to be swallowed by the earth, which seemed gaping to receive them, rushed impetuously towards the sea. The magnificent quays on the banks of the Tagus were thronged with people; when, in the twinkling of an eye, the element towards which they looked for safety, rose to a prodigious height, and threatened them with, if possible, a still more horrid death than that they sought to escape. The waves of the sea rose several fathoms above the ordinary level, and dashing towards a shore they were never destined to overflow, drove in vessels, some of which arrived in safety, whilst others were entirely shattered to pieces, and swallowed up the unhappy wretches, who had escaped being buried in the bosom of the earth.

Earth and water were not the only elements which fought against the miserable Portugueze; fire and air contributed likewise to their destruction: the former, in particular, caused the most dreadful catastrophes: for though, at first, apparently smothered amongst the rubbish, it presently forced itself a passage, and burst forth with such fury, as baffled every attempt to stop its progress.

The public storehouses, and private magazines were soon reduced to ashes: the immense riches they contained were entirely consumed; for such was the violence of the flames, and the excess of heat, that it was impossible to approach the burning tenements, or assist the wretched inhabitants, whose piercing cries struck to the heart. But, dreadful to relate, in the midst of scenes of so much horror, men (if such they can be called) of different nations and complexions, whose lives had hitherto been spared, in this awful moment took advantage of the confusion which reigned throughout the city, to commit the most horrible depredations. These wretches, dispersed in every quarter, braved the greatest dangers; not alas! to succour a distressed fellow-creature, but to rob and murder him; since whosoever discovered a hidden treasure, or delivered up the keys to these merciless invaders, was sure to pay the forfeit with his life.

Such atrocious crimes, however, remained not long unpunished; for the moment the government was able to act, the strictest search was made for the savage monsters, who, to the disgrace of humanity, still continued to commit them. Those who escaped the sword of justice, were strongly fettered, and never relieved from the weight of their chains, but whilst employed in burying the dead, the numbers of which so infected the air, and caused such putrid exhalations, that the plague seemed to threaten this miserable city with still another, and equally dreadful calamity. The greater part of these atrocious villains survived but a very few days their accomplices; thus finding a speedy punishment from the effects of their own diabolical actions; since many amongst them were struck dead by the putrid vapours issuing from the very bodies of those they had so inhumanly butchered.

The intelligence of this dreadful event was presently circulated throughout Europe; and the English displayed on the occasion a degree of humanity and generosity superior to all praise. All causes of discontent given them by the Portugueze were, at this calamitous moment, nobly forgotten; and they alone afforded them more assistance than they received from the united efforts of all their neighbours and allies. Justice is also due to the conduct of Carvalho, who during several days carried on business, eat, and slept in his carriage, which conveyed him continually from place to place, and whithersoever his presence was particularly required. Such was his activity, that he published more than a hundred ordinances in the space of eight days. He advised the king to wear nothing but undyed woollen cloth, manufactured in the country; and his example was followed by the court, and every other description of persons: he also engaged his majesty to sign an edict, by which all foreign merchandize was obliged to pay an additional duty; and this he enforced, notwithstanding the representations of the foreign ministers, and more particularly those of the English ambassador. By the effects of his zeal, Lisbon was soon cleared of all rubbish, and wide strait streets built, with new houses on each side. Such indeed were the signal services he rendered the state on this disastrous occasion, that he became the idol of the people, and was appointed prime minister by his majesty. He was not, however, so elated by his good fortune, as not to be perfectly aware that he had great and dangerous enemies, whose hatred was still increased by his new dignities; but he was far from suspecting the extent of their malice, or the dreadful precipice on which he stood. The attack meditated against him, was still more formidable, from the profound secrecy with which it was concealed, and from the parties concerned in it being of the first consideration in the state.

The duke d’Aveiro, one of the greatest men in the kingdom, was the ostensible chief of this conspiracy; whilst the marchioness de Tavora, a most distinguished character at court, was in fact the principal agent; and the whole was conducted by father Malagrida, a member of the most powerful religious order in the Christian world.

The union of persons so differently situated, and of such opposite characters, was the effect of a concatenation of circumstances of the most extraordinary nature.

The duke d’Aveiro was descended from the younger branch of the family of Mascarenhas, which, though one of the most ancient houses in Portugal, was not one of the most noble, and he certainly had no claim to the distinguished rank he afterwards held, which he owed entirely to his uncle, brother Gaspard, a mere Portugueze gentleman; he himself being incapable of pushing his fortune, or aspiring to favour through his personal merit. His figure was greatly against him, for he was short, and far from handsome; add to this, he was ignorant, obstinate, deranged in his fortune, and capable of every crime; meanly servile towards Carvalho, whom he secretly detested; and so proudly vain of his birth, as openly to declare, that his family, being descended from George (the natural son of John the IId, surnamed the Great) he was but one degree removed from the crown.

Stung to the quick at being no longer treated with the same distinction as during the reign of John the Vth, he formed the terrible design of assassinating his successor; and his pride giving way to his resentment, he indiscriminately attached himself to every one who had, or who thought he had, reason to complain of the court; particularly to the Jesuits, and the family of Tavora. To the former he had always testified the greatest aversion during the administration of his uncle, brother Gaspard, but he now sought their society, frequently visiting them, and receiving them night and day in his own apartments. After some little time, he judged them worthy of his confidence, and revealed his shocking design to father Malagrida. The Jesuit having succeeded in bringing about a reconciliation between the duke and the Tavoras, who had long resented his having deprived them of several domains formerly belonging to their family, prevailed upon him to open his heart to the old marchioness de Tavora, whose confessor he was. The duke the more readily consented to this plan as he knew the implacable hatred borne by the marchioness to the king, and his minister, who had refused her solicitations in favour of her husband, for whom she wished to procure the title of duke. This lady was in every respect widely different from her brother-in law, the duke d’Aveiro. Nature had bestowed on her the most striking beauty, the most imposing carriage, and the most seductive graces. She was endowed with a genius capable of conceiving the most extensive plans, with judgment to ripen, and talents to execute them. The strength of her body fitted her to support the greatest fatigue, the temper of her mind to brave the greatest dangers, whilst the firmness of her character made her disdain to submit to the king or to his minister. Nature had also planted in her bosom the shoots of the noblest passions – passions, alas! which, as they are well or ill directed, form the greatest men, or the most atrocious villains.

Mistress of immense riches, her liberal spirit induced her to bestow them freely; whilst her superior judgment taught her to set bounds to her generosity. Thus endowed with qualities both of body and mind, so infinitely above those of the duke d’Aveiro, the marchioness soon became the life and soul of the conspiracy, which she conducted with the most wonderful skill and address. Her principal accomplices were chosen from the members of her own family, but her insinuating manners gained her several partizans, not only in the highest, but even in the lowest ranks of the people. Her conduct, in the mean time, was of a very extraordinary nature, since she never endeavoured to conceal from the prime minister the hatred she bore him, nor failed speaking of him openly, in terms of the greatest contempt. The sovereign himself was not treated with more indulgence; he became the subject of the most poignant satire, and the bitterest sarcasms; whilst the queen and princesses were the constant objects of her ridicule.

Inspired by the most diabolical sentiments, she put on the mask of religion to effect her purpose, and by her feigned devotion deceived the most clear-sighted. Whilst her thoughts were employed in forming plans of the blackest treason, she frequented the churches, made one in the different processions, went on pilgrimages, and practised all the external forms of religion with the greatest ostentation. Her confessor, father Malagrida, was an Italian Jesuit, sent by the general of the society on a mission to Portugal. Zealous, eloquent, and enthusiastic, he presently became the most fashionable spiritual director: people of every description made choice of him for their confessor: he was regarded as a saint, and consulted as an oracle.

More than two hundred and fifty persons of consequence were concerned in this conspiracy, and nothing now seemed wanting but to fix the day for putting their design into execution.

The hearts of kings are not invulnerable; their passions are frequently strong, and their means of satisfying them easier than those of other men; this facility ought, in fact, to put them on their guard, and teach them to curb the violence of their inclinations, since their elevated rank, and the crowd by which they are constantly surrounded, make it impossible that their actions should long remain concealed. Joseph the 1st made frequent visits to the young marchioness of Tavora; these gave rise to suspicions of an affair of gallantry being carried on between them, which, whether just or unjust, served as a plausible pretext for attempting his life. On the 3d of September, his majesty visited the marchioness, and remained with her, contrary to custom, till eleven o’clock at night. We dare not investigate the reasons of this visit being so unusually prolonged, lest it should implicate other persons in this horrid transaction, without diminishing the enormous guilt of the regicides. The king was on that night attended by only one domestic, who went with him in his calash, drawn by two mules, and driven by a postilion. The conspirators, perfectly well acquainted with the road he would take in returning to Belem, placed themselves in the most convenient spots for the execution of their dreadful project. To secure their success, they divided into different parties; the first of which let the carriage pass quietly on, till it arrived in the midst of the assassins, who consisted of a hundred and fifty persons. Some of these immediately fired, and the pannels of the calash were shivered to pieces by balls of different sizes: the king received several wounds; whilst his valet de chambre, whose name was Taxera, with a degree of courage, and a sublime devotion to his master, worthy of the greatest encomium, prevailed on the king to sink to the bottom of the carriage, and seating himself upon him, screened his sovereign from the impending danger. The postilion (called Castodio da Costo) at the same moment, with the greatest presence of mind and intrepidity, whipping his mules with violence, gallopped forwards, and in the midst of continual firing, forced them down a steep precipice, and dashing over wide fields, and through bye roads, reached Belem in safety.42 The king, on alighting from his carriage, wrapped himself in a large cloak, belonging to one of the guards, and sent immediately for Carvalho, for whom he waited with such impatience that he remained at the gate of the palace, without suffering his wounds to be dressed, and without either breathing a complaint, of expressing the smallest signs of apprehension. The prime minister hastened to attend his sovereign, and listened to all that had passed without change of countenance. He then entreated the king to keep the affair secret, and gave orders to the valet de chambre and guards to be equally silent; thus prudently deciding on concealing for some time the punishment awaiting the regicides, with as much art as they had employed in forming so treasonable and bloody a design; for it must be allowed that no conspiracy was ever kept more secret, or was so near being successful; but the attempt being once made, and by so considerable a number of persons, it was scarcely possible the original authors of the plot could long remain concealed.

Notwithstanding all the above-mentioned precautions, a report was presently circulated throughout Lisbon, that the king had been assassinated. Crowds of people assembled before the palace, and eagerly demanded to see his majesty, who immediately complied with their request, and declared aloud, that the hurts he had received were occasioned by being overturned in his calash. He afterwards engaged the nobles more particularly attached to his person, and who had eagerly flown to attend him, to leave no means untried to remove every suspicion from the minds of the public, of an attempt having been made against his life.

The duke d’Aveiro, who had been the first to propose pursuing the assassins at the head of the horse guards on duty that night at the palace, seemed unwilling to consent to the plan of secrecy adopted by the king: but Carvalho, who began to entertain some suspicions of his being concerned in the conspiracy, was not the dupe of his zeal: he therefore pretended to entrust him with some particular secrets, whilst he insisted upon his entering into the views, and complying with the injunctions of his majesty.

Difficult as it appears to keep secret an affair of this nature, it, however, never transpired; and the king, even before his wounds were closed, appeared in public, and took his usual exercise. The conspirators also put on a calm appearance, and began to believe all danger over. One man only amongst the number, named Polycarpe, who was a domestic in the Tavora family, mistrusted such mysterious inactivity on the part of government, and taking alarm, quitted the kingdom.

Every thing now appeared quiet; the public mind was re-assured; the conspirators thought themselves in safety, and the attempt on the king’s life seemed forgotten. Carvalho, however, had been constantly and secretly employed in diving to the bottom of this dreadful transaction: the principal contrivers of it were already known to him, when, by the effect of the most extraordinary chance, he became acquainted with the whole of their accomplices.

The conspirators, once relieved from all apprehensions of discovery, without the smallest compunction for the enormity of their crime, turned their thoughts towards a second attempt, and the means of making it a successful one. The spot chosen for their private meetings, was a garden belonging to Tavora, which also served as a place of rendezvous to a foreign servant, who carried on a clandestine correspondence with a woman in the house: she, one night, failing in her appointment, her lover concealed himself in the garden, near the very spot where the conspirators held their assembly. Not one word which passed escaped the ears of the attentive listener, who, by that means, became acquainted not only with every particular relative to the first attempt, but with the plan laid for the execution of the second. This man, no sooner contrived to quit the garden, than he flew to the prime minister, and related with the utmost precision every thing which had passed.

Carvalho instantly perceived the imminent danger to which he was exposed; and having now the most convincing proofs, of what before he only suspected, nothing remained to be done but to deliver up the criminals to the severity of the law: he, however, still continued to dissemble; and the duke d’Aveiro, either from his own apprehensions, or by the advice of his friends, having asked leave of absence for three months, it was immediately granted, and that in the most obliging and flattering manner. The marquis de Tavora was at the same time appointed to a commandery, which he had solicited during several years.

Favours thus repeatedly conferred on the principal conspirators, completely put an end to the apprehensions of their friends, relations, and accomplices. The public was likewise deceived; every thing which had passed was buried in oblivion; and nothing was talked of but the intended marriage between the daughter of Carvalho, and the comte de Sampayo, with the entertainments which would naturally take place on so brilliant an alliance. The king himself signed the contract of marriage, promised to defray the expences of the wedding, and invited all the grandees of the kingdom to be present on the occasion.

The duke d’Aveiro no sooner received this intelligence, than he left the country, and repaired with all possible haste to Lisbon; where every thing around him wore the face of joy and pleasure; but on the very day when the court and city were busily employed in preparing for two balls, the one at the prime minister’s at Belem, and the other in Lisbon, at the long room;43 intelligence was brought that troops, composed both of horse and foot, had unexpectedly entered the city, and that great numbers of persons of all ranks and descriptions had been taken into custody.

Never was there a transition so sudden from the greatest joy to the deepest sorrow; never were wedding garments so shortly changed to mourning habits; never were criminals so speedily brought to trial, nor sentences so quickly executed. Scarcely ten days had elapsed since their first imprisonment, before the duke d’Aveiro was drawn and quartered; the marquis de Tavora, his wife, his two sons, and his son-in-law, the count d’Atouguia, beheaded, and four other persons of inferior rank burnt alive.

Dreadful as is the spectacle of punishments, so repugnant to the feelings of humanity; let us, however, take a view of the fatal spot, where the minister, far from listening to the impulse of compassion, but too frequently injurious to the interests of both king and state, delivered up to the hand of the executioner the noble and ignoble, whose blood was suffered to flow indiscriminately in the same channel.

The duke d’Aveiro, on approaching the scaffold, shewed every symptom of the most abject fear, and by his cowardice lost that interest in the hearts of the spectators, which a contrary conduct, even in the greatest criminals, never fails to inspire; whilst the old marchioness of Tavora was all herself, never losing sight of the character by which she had constantly been distinguished, and preserving to the last moment of her existence an heroic firmness, and an unalterable presence of mind.

The sentence which condemned her to death having been read to her, she ordered her breakfast as usual, and seated herself at her toilette, where she dressed herself in her accustomed manner. Her confessor having hinted that her moments ought to be otherwise employed, she calmly answered, that there was time enough for every thing. She afterwards breakfasted with her female attendants, and conversed without the smallest emotion. On arriving at the foot of the scaffold, she refused all assistance, and addressing herself in a loud voice to those who had offered it, I am very well able to mount it by myself; for I have not been put to the torture like the others. She accordingly went up with a firm step, but on reaching the platform of the scaffold, her constancy was put to the most cruel proof; for meeting her husband, the marquis de Tavora, he reproached her in the bitterest terms for having caused the destruction of her family. Looking towards him with a serene countenance, she only replied, Well, then! bear your misfortunes as I do, and do not reproach me with them. The executioner coming towards her, she bound her eyes herself, begged him to dispatch his business quickly, spoke a very few words to her confessor, and with her handkerchief gave the fatal signal.