The Story of the Nations: Portugal

by H. Morse Stephens

But the discontented people of Portugal wanted some one to rally round; the nobility wanted a leader. This leader and representative was found in John, eighth Duke of Braganza, the legitimate heir to the throne. This great nobleman was the head of the most noble family in Portugal, and the direct lineal descendant of the bastard son of John “the Great,” who had married the daughter of the Holy Constable, and he was further the grandson of Donna Catherine, the rightful heiress to the Cardinal-King, Dom Henry. Philip II. had purchased the acquiescence of the husband of Donna Catherine in his usurpation by securing to him the vast possessions of the Braganza family in Portugal, but he had not fulfilled his promise of the grant of Brazil in full sovereignty, to the great disgust of the heiress to the throne of Portugal. She had inspired her hatred for Spain and her love for Portugal into her son, Dom Theodosio, seventh duke, but her grandson, Dom John, was an indolent and timid nobleman, who preferred an easy life to a crown. Dom John had succeeded to the duchy and estates in 1630, at the age of twenty-six, and he had married Donna Luisa de Guzman, daughter of the Duke of Medina Sidonia, in 1633. This marriage had been hailed with delight by Olivares, as it seemed to bind the Braganza family closer to Spain, and he persuaded Philip IV. to grant Dom John as a wedding-gift the duchy and lordship of Guimaraens, which had been the property of Dom Edward, youngest son of Emmanuel “the Fortunate,” the prince through whom the Duke of Braganza traced his claim to the throne. But this marriage did not cement the friendship of the House of Braganza with Spain. On the contrary, the duchess seemed to surrender her Spanish nationality; she made a point of speaking Portuguese, and became more patriotic than the Portuguese themselves; she never forgot that her husband was by rights a king, and was encouraged to use all her great abilities to scheme for the throne of Portugal by the recollection of a prophecy made to her in her childhood that she should be a queen. Dom John himself did not share her opinions; he was no warrior, but loved hunting, music, and the arts, and his lovely hunting-seat at Villa Viçosa, far more than he did politics or even his country. But his easy nature made him subservient to the will of his duchess, and she, through the duke’s agent, João Pinto Ribeiro, Professor of Civil Law at Coimbra, let the nobility of Portugal know that the Duke of Braganza would put himself at their head, if they would but strike a blow for the freedom of their country.

Portugal was at the period, when the Duchess of Braganza involved her husband in her ambitious schemes, under the nominal rule of Margaret of Savoy, Duchess of Mantua; and the Court of this princess was, contrary to the promises made by Philip II. to the Cortes of Thomar, entirely filled with foreigners. Her Lord High Steward or Mordomo-Mor was the Marquis de la Puebla, a Spaniard, and her Estribeiro-Mor, or Master of the Horse, was the Marquis de Bainetti, an Italian, while among more important posts, two Spaniards, Don Didace de Cardenas and Don Fernando de Castro, were respectively general commanding the Portuguese cavalry, and controller of the Portuguese navy. The most important native of the country admitted to her council was Dom Sebastião de Mattos de Noronha, Archbishop of Braga, Primate of the kingdom, and a wealthy nobleman, but the chief administrative power was confided to Miguel de Vasconcellos de Brito, Secretary of State. This man was hated by his fellow-countrymen with the intensity of hatred only felt for a renegade. He had won the favour of Olivares, the Spanish Minister, by his skill in squeezing money out of Portugal, and his energy and activity made him indispensable to the Duchess of Mantua. But if he was hated by all classes of the Portuguese people, he was more especially obnoxious to the Portuguese nobility owing to his policy of excluding them from all posts of honour and emolument, and his personal insolence towards them.

This was the state of the government and the general position of affairs in Portugal when João Pinto Ribeiro, acting with the full sanction of the Duchess, and the half-hearted assent of the Duke, of Braganza, began to form a conspiracy among the leading noblemen to bring about a revolution and expel the Spaniards. If he could only combine the nobles to take the lead and strike the first blow, he knew well that the people would warmly support them. The first step was to make the future king acquainted with his friends, and for this purpose great hunting parties were organized at Villa Viçosa, to which the most patriotic Portuguese noblemen were invited in turn. This behaviour, and the attitude of the young duchess, began to inspire Olivares with a vague alarm, and he began to regret the policy which had allowed the rightful heir to the throne of Portugal to retain his vast estates in the quarter where his influence was most to be feared. He first offered the government of the Milanese, an office generally held by a prince of the blood, to the Duke of Braganza, and, when the appointment was declined on the score of ignorance of Italian politics, the astute Spanish statesman began to feel still more uneasy. But it was necessary to disguise his apprehensions, for he knew that it was impossible to arrest the Duke of Braganza on his estates without causing serious disturbances, and he therefore directed the duke to make a tour of Portugal in his capacity of Constable to inspect the condition of the defences. This tour gave the duke an opportunity to make the acquaintance of the greater part of the people, while he avoided falling into the various traps set for him. Then Olivares delivered his last stroke of policy; he ordered out the whole ban and arrière-ban of Portugal to serve under the king in person in putting down the Catalan rebellion, and directed the Duke of Braganza to proceed immediately to Madrid. The duke delayed his departure for a time, and João Pinto Ribeiro informed the noblemen who had been forming a conspiracy in Lisbon that they must strike at once or it would be too late.

The names of these noblemen are worthy of record, not only because of the daring and successful revolution they initiated, but because they show how patriotic the Portuguese nobility were as a body, since most of the famous families of the early history of Portugal and of the heroic period are represented among them. The leaders of the famous forty who planned the revolution were Miguel de Almeida, a venerable nobleman, at whose house the first meeting of the conspirators was held; Pedro de Mendonça Furtado, Hereditary Grand Chamberlain or Camereiro-Mor; Antonio and Luis de Almada; Jorge de Mello, Hereditary Grand Huntsman; Antonio de Mello de Menezes, his brother; Estevão, and Luis da Cunha; Rodrigo and Emmanuel de Sá; Pedro Mascarenhas, Carlos de Noronha, Gaston de Coutinho and Antonio de Saldanha. The Archbishop of Lisbon, Rodrigo da Cunha, the most popular ecclesiastical dignitary of the realm, if not actually a conspirator, certainly had some knowledge of what was going on through his relatives, the Almadas and Da Cunhas. The conspirators met regularly and skilfully planned their rising, and in all their deliberations João Pinto Ribeiro, though not a nobleman himself, and rather looked down on by the forty, showed himself the boldest and most sagacious leader of them all. There was no idea of establishing a republic, in imitation of the Netherlands, as Vertot absurdly states, for the keystone of their plan was to make a show of legality, and to assert that they were merely placing the rightful king upon the throne. Their preparations were fully made, when João Pinto Ribeiro brought the news that the blow must be struck at once, or else that the Duke of Braganza must proceed to Madrid.

The 1st of December, 1640, was the day appointed for the revolution and on the morning of that day the conspirators assembled by different streets in front of the palace. There had been no treachery, and consequently the viceregal court was quite unprepared for resistance. The signal was given by a pistol shot from Ribeiro, and each conspirator went to his appointed place to accomplish his appointed task. Dom Miguel de Almeida overpowered the German guards of the palace without any difficulty, and Dom Jorge de Mello and Dom Estevão da Cunha were equally successful with the Spanish guards. The third party, under the leadership of Ribeiro, forced their way into the palace, and moved towards the apartments of the hated Secretary of State, Miguel de Vasconcellos. On their way they met Francisco de Soares de Albergaria, the “Corregidor Civil,” or civil judge, who, in answer to their cries of “Long live the Duke of Braganza!” shouted “Long live the King of Spain and Portugal!” and was then immediately shot. They next came across Antonio Correa, the secretary’s chief clerk, whose insolence had almost rivalled his master’s, and Antonio de Menezes struck him down with his poniard and severely wounded him. At last they reached the apartments of the secretary, whom they discovered hidden in a cupboard under a mass of papers. The trembling wretch was dragged from his concealment, and shot by Dom Rodrigo de Sá. All parties now rushed to the part of the palace inhabited by the Duchess of Mantua, whom they found with the Archbishop of Braga. The princess was no coward, and boldly faced the conspirators, but she was informed by Dom Carlos de Noronha that she was a prisoner, and the life of the Archbishop of Braga, who attempted to cut his way through his opponents, was with difficulty saved by Dom Miguel de Almeida.