Spanish and Portuguese South America during the Colonial Period; Vol. 2 of 2

by Robert Grant Watson

In general, a scanty population was scattered along the shores and in the islands; and here and there we read of a place, such as Porto Seguro, possessing a population of fifty inhabitants. The numbers, on the whole, are so scanty that it seems strange that the Portuguese could have at the same time contended successfully with a foreign invader and with hostile tribes in the interior. Espirito Santo had five hundred Portuguese in its district; whilst the population of Rio de Janeiro was estimated at five times that number, exclusive of a garrison of six hundred. As a city it was inferior to Bahia; it was, however, advancing rapidly in wealth. It owed the eminence which it soon attained, and which it retains amongst the cities of Brazil, to its situation relatively to the mines which were soon to be discovered.

Ilha Grande and the island of S. Sebastian possessed, in the middle of the century, no more than one hundred and fifty inhabitants each; the population of Santos was rather greater. S. Paulo boasted some seven hundred inhabitants; its neighbourhood, however, must have contained a considerable number, amongst whom were enlisted the terrible bands of freebooters, who carried desolation and destruction to the frontiers of Paraguay, and one band of whom penetrated as far as to the province of Quito, where, having encountered the Spaniards, they escaped down the Amazons on rafts. The earliest gold found in Brazil was gathered at S. Vicente in 1655, where it was coined. S. Vicente, at this time, had two thousand inhabitants. To the south of this place there was a small settlement at Cananea, and a still smaller one at Santa Catalina.

It was commonly reported that Indian spices were indigenous in Brazil, and that their culture had been prohibited by the Government, lest it should interfere with the Indian trade. Whether this were so or not, an order was given by Joam IV. that every ship touching at Brazil on its way from India should bring with it spice plants. These were placed in the garden of the Jesuits at Bahia, and two persons were brought from Goa who understood the management of cinnamon and pepper plants. But, although the attempt promised success, it was not persevered in; and the subsequent discovery of mines diverted attention from this possible source of wealth. Previously to the finding of the precious metals, the production of sugar was the main object of the inhabitants of the coast.

A sugar-producing engenho implied the presence of various artisans, necessary for the continuous work of the machinery belonging to it. That is to say, it was a village-community in itself, more populous than many of the towns so-called then existing. It comprised in general an area of some eight square miles, the condition attached to the holding of this land being settlement and the cultivation of the necessary canes, which were to be sold at a fair price. From fifty to a hundred negroes were employed in each engenho; a circumstance which, owing to the great cultivation of sugar in the province, had a marked influence on the population of Bahia. A French traveller[9] estimated the proportion of negroes to the white population as twenty to one; but this is probably the highest proportion which it assumed in Brazil. The negroes, according to his account, were exposed to purchase, exactly like beasts at our own cattle fairs, being entirely naked, being handled, as animals are, to test their muscle, and being obliged to show their paces.

The costume of the inhabitants of civilized Brazil during the period of which we treat comprised every conceivable variety, from that of the almost entirely nude slave to that of the lady dressed according to the latest fashion from Lisbon. In the more flourishing settlements, such as Olinda and Bahia, nothing could exceed the luxury of the female costume, the wives of the planters being attired in silks and satins covered with the richest embroidery, with pearls, rubies, and emeralds. Black was the prevailing colour, and the use of gold and silver lace was forbidden by a sumptuary law. In describing the results of holding slaves, it is necessary for the historian to state, with whatsoever reluctance, that the ladies of Bahia, even those the most distinguished amongst them, and who passed for being the most virtuous, did not, according to the direct statement of the French traveller above referred to, scruple to adorn their female slaves to the utmost extent, with the object of participating with them in the profits of their prostitution. This particular form of highborn depravity is, in so far as I am aware, peculiar to Brazil in the annals of history. The ladies of Bahia were so indolent of habit that on going abroad they had to lean on their pages lest they should fall. Even the men,—if men they might be called,—were unable to descend the declivity on which Bahia stands, and were carried down on a contrivance called the serpentine, that is to say, a hammock suspended from a pole, a slave attending meanwhile with a parasol. Each lady on going from home was attended by two negresses.

The Portuguese in Brazil were exceedingly prone to jealousy, and it has been concluded that, as the punishment for convicted unfaithfulness was assured death, it is impossible to believe the often-repeated statement that connubial infidelity on the part of women was remarkably common; but the experience of many countries has shown that neither certainty of punishment nor the probability of detection can be relied upon as preventives of a breach of the marriage law; whilst it is likewise not the less certain that the risk incurred may add to the zest of the crime.

As might be anticipated from the fact that criminals were, from an early period, sent to Brazil to swell the ranks of the settlers, the police records of the various settlements are not gratifying reading. In the first place, the courts of justice were, in certain quarters, notoriously corrupt; robberies were committed in open day; whilst quarrels not unfrequently terminated in death. In short, the lives of the Christian settlers were certainly, as a whole, the reverse of being calculated to serve as examples to the heathen whom their missionaries were employed in converting. The very ships which brought out the Fathers too often carried out a supply of criminals whose lives serve as a practical antidote to their doctrines.

Much has been written, and probably with justice, concerning the apathy, the corruption, the extreme superstition, and the dissolute nature of the lives of the clergy in Brazil; but, taking them as they were, it is somewhat difficult to realize the picture of what the Portuguese transatlantic possessions would have become had they possessed no Church establishment. From the King down to the lowest peasant, the Portuguese of that age were deeply imbued with faith in the doctrines of Christianity; and, however much they might, in their practice, diverge from its precepts, they were ever ready to compound for their sins by liberal donations to the Church and to charitable establishments. The Church, on its side, however irregular might be the lives of the clergy in general, was bound to keep up a certain degree of outward discipline and of attention to the good works for which it sought donations; whilst, from time to time, a luminary, such as Nobrega and Vieyra, arose in its ranks, stimulating to good works.

We have endeavoured in the preceding pages faithfully to record in so far as our limits permitted, the devotion and extraordinary achievements of such men as Nobrega, Anchieta, and Vieyra: it is but fitting to complete the picture of the remarkable ecclesiastics of the century by taking one from an opposite category. The Father Joam de Almeida, who had sat at the feet of Anchieta, is said originally to have been called John Martin, and to have been a subject of Queen Elizabeth; but, in the seventeenth year of his age, he found himself under the care of the Jesuits in Brazil. We are told of an Indian captive, who not only showed no impatience under the torments inflicted upon him by his captors, but who, when offered to be relieved of them, replied that he wished they were greater, in order that his enemies might see how thoroughly he despised them. In somewhat of a similar spirit John Martin, or Almeida, seemed not only to be indifferent to pain, but almost to revel in it. Such a character is not unfamiliar to Portuguese ecclesiastical annals. Those who have visited Cintra will remember the cave of the hermit Honorius, in which he dwelt for fourteen years, and which was of such dimensions as not to admit of his standing upright.[10] The unfortunate person of Almeida was regarded by him, in his mental capacity, as a natural enemy, which was only to be kept in subjection by perpetual scourgings, which were inflicted by a liberal assortment of implements; but notwithstanding which, he survived to the age of eighty-two. From this fact it must not be inferred that there was anything of evasiveness in his self-inflicted castigations. His constitution had grown accustomed to a form of suffering which his abstemious manner of living rendered possible, and which won for him the reverence of the superstitious population amongst whom he dwelt. On his demise, everything in any way connected with him became inordinately precious. The possession of portions of his autograph was almost too much good fortune to befall any one; but the porter of his convent was enabled to benefit himself and others by distributing drops of his blood and such articles as might have come in contact with the body of the dying saint. Nobrega and Vieyra, having done their work, had been allowed to sink into their rest, comparatively unobserved; but the death of the ascetic Martin created as much agitation as would have been produced by an earthquake. His funeral was attended by the whole population, from the governor downwards, and the multitude would not be persuaded to disperse until each one of them had kissed and embraced the corpse. Here it might have been thought his adoration might have been allowed to end; but it was even found necessary to set a guard over him at night, in order to protect his remains from the depredation of his pious votaries. The guard, however, would seem to have been insufficient for the purpose; since it was ascertained in the morning that one of the shoes of the anchorite was no longer to be found, whilst his pillow had likewise disappeared.

When the corpse of Martin had been committed to its coffin and confined to the grave, it might have been reasonably hoped that it would be allowed to rest in peace, or at least that the devotion of his admirers would cease to be expressed by aggressive acts. Such an idea, however, would betray ignorance of the inventiveness of superstition; since by night the grave was opened, and, the body having been removed, the precious hair was shaved off by a razor, whilst the remaining shoe and stockings were secured.