Far from devoting to useful enterprise the riches which fortune showered upon him, João V let the navy, army, and administration constantly decline. He seemed to have no other aim than to emulate the pomp of Louis XIV; but he forgot that Louis reigned over France and that the latter found all the elements of the luxury he displayed in the industry of the kingdom, while Portugal could not obtain them except by exhausting herself to the profit of foreigners. Such was João V’s generosity with his courtiers, his mistresses, his feasts, and his buildings that, with the great nobles following his example, poverty soon arrived, in spite of America. It has been estimated that between 1699 and 1756 there came from Brazil 2,400,000,000 francs, and that Portugal retained but a very small portion. All the rest, that is to say nearly nine-tenths, went to England, either in exchange for merchandise or as the price of transporting the metal, which became hers after all.
It was not sufficient that England should levy such a tribute on Portuguese indolence. Not less zealous for his religious practices than for his pleasures, João V had the idea of establishing a patriarchal legate at Lisbon, and before Rome could agree to this he had to expend enormous sums. He did the same in order that Portugal might possess under this legate a Latin church almost the equal of St. Peter’s, and this contained not less than sixty-six mitred canons at a salary of 5,000 cruzados each. Add to this the construction of the magnificent monastery of Mafra for three hundred monks, with its park twelve miles in length, the gorgeous procession, the collections of pious books to which the public was not allowed access, and what is worse still, the auto-da-fé which the Inquisition made him celebrate with great pomp, and we can realise that he spent on all this appearance of religion at least 500,000,000 francs. It is true that he was recompensed. Grateful Rome granted him the title of “most faithful king” in 1748.
While such follies are discrediting the reign, is it permissible to rehabilitate a prince because he founded a Portuguese academy or an academy of history—because he softened the national manners almost to enervation—because he introduced into his country French customs and Italian music in place of a real civilisation whose establishment the Inquisition would however never have tolerated? But how explain, on the other hand, that far from cursing João V’s memory, the Portuguese have always held it in great veneration? It was because the riches of Brazil struck them all with the same giddiness as they struck him, because his ostentatious piety conformed to the tastes of the nation, because if he fought with his ministers and occupied himself more with theological disputes than with government, he was accessible and kind to all his subjects, and could use those happy words which too often take the place of real merit.
The esteem given João V by Portugal seems to us to be his own condemnation. What is war without greatness, peace without prosperity, devotion without piety? And in these words we may sum up João’s reign. We shall not dwell on the final extinction of the ancient Portuguese liberties whose form had at least survived. João V never convoked the cortes until public tranquillity was threatened with some blow, and yet no one protested. The régime of the Inquisition had produced its usual effect.
The last years of João V were as sad as the others had been brilliant. Stricken with paralysis in 1744, he found a little relief in the baths of Caldas da Raiñha, but this treatment soon ceased to benefit him, and he could do nothing put pass the rest of his existence far from the luxury and fêtes of which he had been so fond. Thenceforth the king of Portugal was the Recollet Gaspard, who, with even less ability in the art of government than his master, had at least the merit of proving himself more economical. For some time João had contracted the costly habit of having masses for all the Portuguese of whose deaths he could learn. Gaspard took care to deceive him as to the deaths which occurred in Lisbon, lest he should send, as they said, all the living to hell in getting the dead out of purgatory.[f]
João died in July, 1750. By his queen, Maria Anna of Austria, João had a numerous issue; but three children only survived him—Maria Barbara, queen of Spain, his successor, José, and the infante Dom Pedro.[e]
THE REIGN OF JOSÉ I
[1750-1751 A.D.]
On September 7th, 1750, the new king was proclaimed with all the usual pomp and circumstance. He found the treasury empty, the army existing in name only; but, as someone has remarked with a certain semblance of accuracy, he found the popular instincts directed towards commerce, and a remarkable readiness to enter on a path of ameliorated industries. But none the less the Methuen Treaty was at that time manifesting all its consequences, and laid a spell of inertia on the most active minds, even on those who, by their continual contact with a commercial and manufacturing nation, were filled with dreams for their country of improvements which only a strong and independent genius could bring about.
At this epoch Brazil had become an inexhaustible resource for the mother-country in all financial embarrassments. December, 1750, witnessed the arrival at Lisbon of the fleet, richly loaded, on which so many hopes were built each succeeding year. From a generous impulse, for which the colonies were most grateful to him, one of the new king’s first acts was aimed at the political betterment of the rich province of Minas from which he drew so much of his wealth; he abolished the poll-tax, which was paid as a right of seigniory, and in 1751 he established at Rio de Janeiro a tribunal of relaçao [i.e., a court of appeal], a real and well-felt advantage for that country, since in former times trials of any importance lasted an eternity, being brought to Lisbon for judgment.