“In a short time the Portuguese preserved no more humanity or good faith with each other than with the natives. Almost all the states, where they had the command, were divided into factions. There prevailed everywhere in their manners, a mixture of avarice, debauchery, cruelty, and devotion. They had most of them seven or eight concubines, whom they kept to work with the utmost rigour, and forced from them the money they gained by their labour. Such treatment of women was very repugnant to the spirit of chivalry. The chiefs and principal officers admitted to their tables a multitude of those singing and dancing women, with which India abounds. Effeminacy introduced itself into their houses and armies. The officers marched to meet the enemy in palanquins. That brilliant courage which had confounded so many nations, existed no longer amongst them. They were with difficulty brought to fight, except for plunder. In a short time, the king no longer received the tribute which was paid him by one hundred and fifty eastern princes. It was lost on its way from them to him. Such corruption prevailed in the finances, that the tributes of sovereigns, the revenues of provinces, which ought to have been immense, the taxes levied on gold, silver, and spices, on the inhabitants of the continent and islands, were not sufficient to keep up a few citadels, and to fit out the shipping necessary for the protection of trade.”
Some gleams of valour blazed up now and then; Don Juan de Castro revived the spirit of the settlers for awhile; Ataida, and fresh troops from Portugal repelled the native powers, who, worn out with endurance of outrages and indignities, and alive to the growing effeminacy of their oppressors, rose against them on all hands. But these were only temporary displays. The island of Amboyna was the first to avenge itself; and the words addressed to them by one of its citizens are justly descriptive of their real character. A Portuguese had, at a public festival, seized upon a very beautiful woman, and regardless of all decency, had proceeded to the grossest of outrages. One of the islanders, named Genulio, armed his fellow-citizens; after which he called together the Portuguese, and addressed them in the following manner:—“To revenge affronts so cruel as those we have received from you, requires actions, not words; yet we will speak to you. You preach to us a Deity, who delights, you say, in generous actions; but theft, murder, obscenity, and drunkenness are your common practice: your hearts are inflamed with every vice. Our manners can never agree with yours. Nature foresaw this when she separated us by immense seas, and you have overleaped her barriers. This audacity, of which you are not ashamed to boast, is a proof of the corruption of your hearts. Take my advice; leave to their repose those nations that resemble you so little; go, fix your habitations amongst those who are as brutal as yourselves; an intercourse with you would be more fatal to us than all the evils which it is in the power of your God to inflict upon us. We renounce your alliance for ever. Your arms are more powerful than ours; but we are more just than you, and we do not fear them. The Itons are from this day your enemies;—fly from this country, and beware how you approach it again.”
Equally detested in every quarter, they saw a confederacy forming to expel them from the east. All the great powers of India entered into the league, and for two or three years carried on their preparations in secret. Their old enemy, the Zamorin, attacked Manjalor, Cochin, and Cananor. The king of Cambaya attacked Chaul, Daman, and Baichaim. The king of Achen laid siege to Malacca. The king of Ternate made war on them in the Moluccas. Agalachem, a tributary to the Mogul, imprisoned the Portuguese merchants at Surat; and the queen of Gareopa endeavoured to drive them out of Onor. The exertions of Ataida averted immediate destruction; but a more formidable power was now preparing to expel them from their ill-acquired and ill-governed possessions,—the Dutch. In little more than a century from the appearance of the Portuguese in India, this nation drove them from Malacca and Ceylon; from most of their possessions on the coast of Malabar; and had, moreover, made settlements on the Coromandel coast. It was high time that this reign of crime and terror came to an end, had a better generation succeeded them. After the death of Sebastian, and the reduction of Portugal by Philip II., the last traces of order or decency seemed to vanish from the Indian settlements. Portugal itself exhibited, with the usual result of ill-gotten wealth, a scene of miserable extremes—profusion and poverty. Those who had been in India were at once indolent and wealthy; the farmer and the artizan were reduced to the most abject condition. “In the colonies the Portuguese gave themselves,” says Raynal, “up to all those excesses which make men hated, though they had not courage enough left to make them feared. They were monsters. Poison, fire, assassination, every sort of crime was become familiar to them; nor were they private persons only who were guilty of such practices,—men in office set them the example! They massacred the natives; they destroyed one another. The governor just arrived, loaded his predecessor with irons, that he might deprive him of his wealth. The distance of the scene, false witnesses, and large bribes secured every crime from punishment.”
CHAPTER XIV.
THE DUTCH IN INDIA.
A free nation, which is its own master, is born to command the ocean. It cannot secure the dominion of the sea without seizing upon the land, which belongs to the first possessor; that is, to him who is able to drive out the ancient inhabitants. They are to be enslaved by force or fraud, and exterminated in order to get their possessions.
Raynal.
We come now to the conduct of a Protestant people towards the natives of their colonies; and happy would it be if we came with this change to a change in their policy and behaviour. But the Dutch, though zealous Protestants at home, were zealous Catholics abroad in cruelty and injustice. Styling themselves a reformed people, there was no reformation in their treatment of Indians or Caffres. They, as well as other Protestant nations, cast off the outward forms and many of the inward superstitions of the Roman church: but they were far, far indeed from comprehending Christianity in its glorious greatness; in the magnificence of its moral elevation; in the sublimity of its objects; in the purity of its feeling, and the beautiful humanity of its spirit. The temporal yoke of Rome was cast off, but the mental yoke still lay heavy on their souls, and it required ages of bitter experience to restore sufficiently their intellectual sensibility to permit them even to feel it. Popery was dethroned in them, but not destroyed. They recognized their rights as men, and the slavery under which they had been held; but their vision was not enough restored to allow them to recognize the rights of others, and to see that to hold others in slavery, was only to take themselves out of the condition of the victim, to put themselves into the more odious, criminal, and eventually disastrous one of the tyrant. They were still infinitely distant from the condition of freemen. They were free from the immediate compulsion of their spiritual task-masters, but they were not free from the iron which they had thrust into their very souls,—from the corrupt morals, the perverted principles, the debased tone of feeling and perception, which the Papal church had inflicted on them. The wretched substitution of ceremonies, legends, and false maxims, for the grand and regenerating doctrines of Christian truth, which had existed for more than a thousand years, had generated a spurious morality, which ages only could obliterate. It is a fallacy to suppose that the renunciation of the Romish faith, carried with it a renunciation of the habits of mind which it had created,—or that those who called themselves reformers were thoroughly reformed, and rebaptized with the purity and fulness of Christianity. Many and glorious examples were given of zeal for the right, even unto death; of the love of truth, which cast out all fear of flames and scaffolds; of that devotion to the dictates of conscience that shrunk from no sacrifice, however severe;—but even in the instance of the noblest of those noble martyrs, it would be self-delusion for us to suppose that they had sprung from the depth of darkness to perfect light at one leap; that they rose instantaneously from gross ignorance of Christian truths, to the perfection of knowledge; that they had miraculously cast off at one effort all slavery of spirit, and the dimness of intellectual vision, which were the work of ages. They had regained the wish and the will to explore the regions of truth; they had made some splendid advances, and shewn that they descried some of the most prominent features of the genuine faith: but they were, the best of them, but babes in Christ. To become full-grown men required the natural lapse of time; and to expect them to start up into the full standard of Christian stature, was to expect an impossibility. And if the brightest and most intrepid, and most honest intellects were thus circumstanced, what was the condition of the mass? That may be known by calling to mind how readily Protestants fell into the spirit of persecution, and into all the cruelties and outrages of their Popish predecessors. Ages upon ages were required, to clear away the dusty cobwebs of error, with which a spurious faith had involved them; and to raise again the Christian world to the height of Christian knowledge. We are yet far and very far from having escaped from the one, or risen to the other. There are yet Christian truths, of the highest import to humanity, that are treated as fables and fanatic dreams by the mass of the Christian world; and we shall see as we proceed, that to this hour the most sacred principles of Christianity are outraged; and the worst atrocities of the worst ages of Rome are still perpetrated on millions of millions of human beings, over whom we vaunt our civilization, and to whom we present our religion as the spirit of heaven, and the blessing of the earth.
When, therefore, we see the Dutch, ay, and the English, and the Anglo-Americans, still professing truth and practising error; still preaching mercy, and perpetrating the basest of cruelties; still boasting of their philosophy and refinement, and enacting the savage; still vapouring about liberty, with a whip in one hand and a chain in the other; still holding the soundness of the law of conquest, and the equal soundness of the commandment, Not to covet our neighbour’s goods; the soundness of the belief that Negroes, Indians, and Hottentots, are an inferior species, and the equal soundness of the declaration that “God made of one blood all the nations of the earth;” still declaring that Love, the love of our neighbour as of ourselves, is the great distinction of Christians;—and yet persisting in slavery, war, massacres, extermination of one race, and driving out of others from their ancient and hereditary lands—we must bear in mind that we behold only the melancholy result of ages of abandonment of genuine Christianity for a base and accommodating forgery of its name,—and the humiliating spectacle of an inconsistency in educated nations unworthy of the wildest dwellers in the bush, entailed on us by the active leaven of that very faith which we pride ourselves in having renounced. We have, indeed, renounced mass and the confessional, and the purchase of indulgences; but have tenaciously retained the mass of our tyrannous propensities. We practise our crimes without confessing them; we indulge our worst desires without even having the honesty to pay for it; and the old, spurious morality, and political barbarism of Rome, are as stanchly maintained by us as ever—while we claim to look back on Popery with horror, and on our present condition as the celestial light of the nineteenth century.