HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTIONS OF PORTUGAL. (continued 2)

Pinto having forced his way into the palace, placed himself at the head of those destined to attack Vasconcellos, and marched with so assured and resolute an air, that one of his friends, whom he met in his passage, panic-struck, tremblingly asked, whither he was going with such numbers of armed men; and for what purpose they were designed? To which he replied, with a smile, “Only to change your master, and by delivering you from the power of a tyrant, place you under the government of a lawful sovereign!!”

On entering the apartments of the secretary of state, they were met at the foot of the stairs by the civil judge[19], Francisco Soares d’Albergaria, who had just quitted Vasconcellos, and imagining the tumult to proceed from some private quarrel, was about to interpose his authority, but his ears being saluted by repeated shouts of long live the duke of Braganza! he thought himself bound in honour, and by the duties of his charge, to cry, long live the king of Spain and Portugal! This expression cost him dear, one of the conspirators immediately shooting him with a pistol, and by so doing, claimed the merit of having punished an act of loyalty, which now began to be regarded as a crime.

The secretary’s first clerk, Antonio Correa, being alarmed by the report of the pistol, instantly flew to the spot. This man, the inflictor of his master’s cruelties, and who had ever treated the nobles with marked contempt, was no sooner perceived by don Antonio de Menezes, than he plunged his poinard into his bosom; but even this stroke was not sufficient to convince the miserable wretch that his power was at an end, for not believing it possible that any one would dare to attack him, he supposed himself mistaken for another, and turning haughtily towards Menezes, “What!” cried he, “dost thou dare to wound me?” To which he was only answered by repeated stabs, till he sunk exhausted on the floor. His wounds, however, did not prove mortal; and he escaped that time with life, to perish still more ignobly some time afterwards, by the hand of the executioner.

The conspirators having thus got rid of the clerk who had impeded their passage up the stairs, flew to the apartment of the secretary. He was accompanied by Diego Garcés Palha, a captain of infantry, who on perceiving a body of armed men furiously advancing, presently guessed they aimed at the life of Vasconcellos; and though he owed no particular obligation to that minister, he generously opposed, sword in hand, their entrance at the door, hoping, by so doing, to favour the secretary’s escape; but being wounded in the sword arm, and oppressed by numbers, he threw himself from a window, and was fortunate enough to be but little hurt by the fall.

A crowd of conspirators instantly rushed into the chamber, and eagerly searched for Vasconcellos, every one burning with impatience to strike the first blow; but after having in vain overset beds, tables, and peeped into chests, they gave way to despair that he should thus escape their vengeance; when an old female servant, being threatened with immediate death, pointed to a press contrived in the wall, where he was found concealed under a quantity of papers.

The certainty of his fate deprived him of speech; and the grand chamberlain, don Rodrigo de Sáa, having first fired at him with a pistol, the others stabbed him repeatedly with their swords, and throwing him out of the window, shouted, “The tyrant is dead; liberty for ever; long live don John, king of Portugal!”

These shouts were joyfully re-echoed by the populace, on seeing the body drop amongst them. They instantly seized it, and seemed to vie with each other in revenging the public wrongs, and putting a finishing stroke to the reign of tyranny.

Thus fell Michel de Vasconcellos, who, though born a Portugueze, was ever the sworn enemy of his country, and the friend of the Spaniards. Endowed with a superior genius for the management of affairs, quick, attentive, and inconceivably laborious in business, fruitful in expedients for extorting money from the people, consequently obdurate, a stranger to pity, and capable of acts of the most refined cruelty. With such a disposition, and having neither relations nor friends, the person existed not who had the smallest influence over his mind. To the seductions of pleasure he was perfectly insensible, and being never troubled by the stings of conscience, he had amassed immense treasures in the discharge of his employment, the greatest part of which were now pillaged by the incensed people, who claimed a right to administer justice, and to repair the losses they pretended they had suffered during the course of his administration.

Pinto, without loss of time, proceeded to join the rest of the conspirators appointed to take possession of the palace, and seize the person of the vice-queen. On arriving at the spot, he found that plan had been already executed, and that they had been every where equally successful. No sooner, indeed, had they reached the door of the princess’s apartment, which the people furiously threatened to set on fire unless opened immediately, than the vice-queen, attended by her maids of honour, and the archbishop of Braga, made her appearance at the entrance of her chamber, flattering herself that her presence would appease the nobles, and restrain the violence of the populace; advancing then towards the principal persons amongst the conspirators, she addressed them as follows: “I cannot pretend to deny, gentlemen, that the secretary has justly incurred the indignation of the people by the cruelty and insolence of his conduct, but his death having now freed you from so odious an administration, your resentment ought surely to be appeased; I therefore advise you to reflect, that though these commotions may at present be attributed to the hatred of the public towards the secretary, they will, if persevered in, be regarded as acts of rebellion; nor will it be possible for me to exculpate your conduct or plead in your favour to the king.” Don Antonio de Menezes, in reply to this discourse, declared, that such an assembly of distinguished persons had not taken up arms merely to destroy a detestable wretch, who ought to have perished by the hands of the executioner, but that they had met together to place the crown on the head of this duke of Braganza; a crown which had been usurped from his family, to which he alone had lawful claim, and which they were decided on restoring him, though their lives should be the sacrifice. The vice-queen attempted to answer, by interposing the authority of the king; but Almeida fearing a longer conversation might tend to discourage his party, abruptly interrupted her, by exclaiming, that the Portugueze would no longer acknowledge any other sovereign than the duke of Braganza. In the same moment the conspirators unanimously shouted, “Long live don John, king of Portugal!”

The vice-queen, on perceiving they had broken through all restraint, believed it possible she might be more successful in the city, where her presence would probably have some influence on the citizens and people, when no longer supported by the conspirators; she therefore was preparing to go down stairs; but don Carlos de Norogna entreated her to return to her apartment, assuring her that she should be treated in the same respectful manner as if she still continued governess of the country; but that it was highly improper a great princess should expose herself to the insults of a people in the first moments of a revolution, and whose breasts beat high with the desire of liberty. These words but too clearly proved she might regard herself as a prisoner: bursting with indignation, she haughtily asked, “And what then have I to fear from the people?” “Nothing more, madam,” furiously answered Norogna, “than that they might throw your highness out of the window.”

The archbishop of Braga, trembling with passion at the expressions of Norogna, snatched a sword from a soldier who stood near him, and endeavoured to force his way through the conspirators, to revenge the insults offered to the vice-queen. This effort was on the point of costing him his life, when don Michel d’Almeida closely embracing him, earnestly begged him to reflect on the danger to which he exposed himself; and forcibly tearing him away, represented in very strong terms, that his life hung by the slenderest thread, that he had had the greatest difficulty to preserve it from the rage of the conspirators, to whom his person was sufficiently odious, without irritating them still farther, by acts of unavailing bravery, very unbecoming a man of his sacred character. These remonstrances forced him to retreat, and even to dissimulate his rage; hoping, however, that time would afford him a favourable opportunity of wreaking his vengeance on Norogna, and proving his attachment to the interests of Spain.

All the remaining Spaniards, both in the palace and city, were secured by the conspirators. The marquis de la Peubla major-domo to the vice-queen, and eldest brother of the marquis de Leganez; don Didace de Cardenas, general of the cavalry; don Fernando de Castro, comptroller of the navy; the marquis de Bainetto, an Italian, and master of the horse to the vice-queen, with several navy-officers, then in the port, were made prisoners; and that with as little difficulty, and as quietly, as if taken up by order of the king of Spain. The greater part, indeed, were unable to make any resistance, being in bed, and no one attempting to exert himself in their favour.

Antonio de Saldanha, at the head of his party, and followed by crowds of people, proceeded next to the sovereign tribunal of Relaçaon, where he harangued the company on the happiness awaiting the Portugueze from the restoration of their lawful king, the destruction of tyranny, and the re-establishment of the laws of the country, under the government of a just and wise prince, laws which had been so long set at defiance.

This discourse was received with general applause, and answered by the most lively acclamations, in favour of the new king. Gonçalo de Sousa, first president of this sovereign court, and the father of the historian of the same name, whom we have frequently consulted in the course of this work, immediately pronounced his decrees in the name of don John, king of Portugal.

Whilst Antonio de Saldanha was thus employed in disposing the tribunal of Relaçaon to acknowledge the duke of Braganza for their sovereign, don Gaston Coutinho set free the prisoners confined by the cruelty of the Spanish ministers. These miserable wretches, so suddenly removed from a frightful dungeon, with the fear of a speedy death continually in their thoughts, and restored to the participation of the liberty now to be enjoyed by their country, were so grateful to their deliverers, and so apprehensive of falling once more into the hands of their tormentors, that they formed another company of conspirators, not less solicitous to secure the throne to the duke of Braganza, than the body of nobility who originally planned the revolution.

Great as was the joy of the conspirators at the success of their enterprise, Pinto and the chiefs were not free from uneasiness. The citadel still remained in the possession of the Spaniards, who might from thence easily fire on the town, and make the people severely repent the inconsiderate joy they had testified on this occasion. It might also afford an entrance to the king of Spain, and enable him to re-establish his authority. It was therefore agreed, that without they could make themselves masters of this place, their former success would avail them nothing; they accordingly repaired immediately to the vice-queen, and demanded an order for the governor to evacuate the citadel, and deliver it into their possession. This proposal she instantly rejected, and reproaching them as rebels, indignantly asked whether they intended to make her an accomplice in their crimes. Almada, enraged at her refusal, with fire flashing from his eyes, swore vehemently that unless she that moment signed the order, he would directly stab the whole of the Spanish prisoners to the heart. The princess, terrified at his violence, and trembling for the lives of so many persons of distinction, flattered herself that the governor knew his duty too well to comply with an order, which he must be assured was forced from her; she therefore signed the paper, which, however, produced a very different effect from what she had reason to expect. The governor, don Louis de Campo, a Spaniard by birth, and naturally timid and irresolute, on perceiving the armed conspirators at the gates of the citadel, followed by an immense concourse of people, who threatened to cut him to pieces with the rest of the garrison, if he did not instantly surrender, thought himself but too happy to escape so easily, and with so plausable an excuse for the cowardice of his conduct. He accordingly delivered up the citadel; and the conspirators having thus surmounted every obstacle, dispatched Mendoça and the grand huntsman to acquaint the duke of Braganza with their success; and to assure him on the part of the citizens, that nothing was now wanting to complete their happiness but the presence of their sovereign. This presence, however, was not equally desired by all: the grandees of the kingdom regarded his advancement with secret jealousy, and those nobles who were not engaged in the conspiracy, kept a profound silence, which proved their uncertainty of the event of so extraordinary a business. Some amongst them even ventured to declare that they were far from assured the duke would approve so bold an enterprise, which must inevitably be followed by the most dreadful consequences. The favourers and creatures of the Spaniards were still more cruelly alarmed; and, not daring to shew themselves to a people, who, intoxicated with their newly-acquired liberty, would not fail to insult them, they remained constantly shut up in their apartments, waiting in the greatest agitation of mind the duke’s answer, which would determine their fate, and teach them what they had to hope or to fear from the completion of his designs. In the mean time the duke’s party, perfectly well acquainted with his intentions, continued their operations, and assembled in the palace to issue out orders for conducting public affairs till the arrival of his majesty.

The archbishop of Lisbon was unanimously declared president of the council, and lieutenant-general for the king. The prelate at first declined this honour, objecting that the present situation of the city, and indeed of the whole kingdom, demanded an able general more than a man of his sacred character. He, however, at last, on pretence of yielding to the solicitations of his friends, consented to sign the orders, provided the archbishop of Braga might act as his colleague in all affairs and dispatches necessary to be expedited before the arrival of the king. Thus this artful and prudent churchman flattered himself, that by pretending to divide the authority with him, the archbishop of Braga would become his accomplice, consequently criminal in the eyes of the Spaniards, and more particularly so, if he accepted the post of governor, which he was decided should be merely a nominal dignity: and should he refuse it, he would not only lose himself for ever with the duke, but become odious to all Portugal, and regarded as the declared enemy of his country.

The archbishop of Braga was perfectly aware of the snare laid for him; but his attachment to the vice-queen having bound him to the Spanish interest, he absolutely refused taking the smallest share in the government. The whole weight of affairs therefore fell on the archbishop of Lisbon; don Michel d’Almeida, Pierre de Mendoça, and don Antonio d’Almada were appointed counsellors of state.

The new government began its operations by taking possession of three large Spanish gallions riding in the port of Lisbon. Several armed vessels were sent out on this occasion, which were fitted by the younger part of the inhabitants, who were eager to signalize themselves in so important an affair; but their zeal had no opportunity of shewing itself, the gallions being incapable of resistance, the officers and greater part of the men having been made prisoners on the first breaking out of the conspiracy.

Couriers were dispatched the same evening into all the provinces, to engage the people to offer public thanksgivings to Almighty God for the restoration of their liberty; to proclaim the duke of Braganza king of Portugal, and to secure the persons of all Spaniards throughout the whole of the kingdom. Magnificent preparations were made in Lisbon for the reception of the new monarch, whose arrival was hourly expected; and the archbishop acquainted the vice-queen that it was necessary she should quit the palace, which must now be occupied by the king and his household. An apartment was prepared for her in the royal palace of Xabregas, at the other extremity of the city, whither she repaired on receiving the archbishop’s message, and passed through the town with an air of haughtiness, without uttering a single syllable; the scene indeed was entirely changed, and far from the train of courtiers which usually waited on her footsteps, she was accompanied by scarcely any domestics. The archbishop of Braga alone gave proofs of his constant attachment, which he publicly testified at a moment when his life might probably have been the forfeit of his zeal for her interest.

The duke of Braganza, in the mean time, was a prey to the most torturing uncertainty: alternate hopes and fears took possession of his mind. The impossibility of receiving early intelligence at Villa Vicosa, thirty leagues from Lisbon, added to his anxiety, which became intolerable, on reflecting that his fate depended on the event of the present moment. His first intention, as has been already mentioned, was to cause an insurrection in all the towns under his dependance, on the very day the conspirators were to commence their operations at Lisbon; but he afterwards thought it more prudent to wait for intelligence from that city, in order to secure a retreat in case of ill success, either in the kingdom of Algarves, or the town and citadel of Elvas, which properly belonged to himself; he even believed it possible to persuade the Spaniards, should the event make it necessary, that he had no share in the conspiracy; particularly as the interest of that nation would naturally induce them to wish him innocent.

In this perturbed state of mind, he sent off different couriers on the road to Lisbon, but though he was in hourly expectation of news, the whole of the day, and part of the night, passed in the same dreadful suspence; till at last Mendoça and Mello, who had travelled with all possible expedition, made their appearance, and respectfully throwing themselves at his feet, with the most lively expression of joy beaming forth in their countenances, convinced him more forcibly than by words, that he might now regard himself as king of Portugal. These noblemen were beginning an account of all that had happened, but the prince impatiently interrupting them, led them into the duchess’s apartment, where they saluted her with the same respect as if already seated on the throne of Portugal, assuring her of the fidelity and attachment of her new subjects; and as a proof of her being acknowledged sovereign, addressed her by the title of majesty, which was still more grateful to her ear, from the kings of Portugal having formerly been only dignified by that of highness.

It is easy to judge of the transports of this prince and princess, at being thus relieved from a state of the most cruel anxiety, and so happily raised to such a pitch of greatness. The castle resounded with joyful acclamations, and the glorious intelligence was presently communicated throughout the environs. He was the same day proclaimed king in all the towns under his dependence; and Alphonso de Mello had the same ceremony performed in the city of Elvas. Crowds from these different places flocked to pay homage to their new sovereign; and these first marks of duty and affection, though hastily and confusedly given, spoke more feelingly to the heart of the prince, than what he afterwards received in all the blaze of state and ceremony.

The archbishop regent, impatient for the arrival of the new king, dispatched courier after courier, to represent the great importance of his immediate appearance at Lisbon. The last of these couriers met him on the Monday, on the plain of Montemor, half way from Villa Vicosa, where this timid prince, to conceal the real cause of his journey, pretended to be engaged in a hawking party; but no sooner had he opened the regent’s dispatches, than he set off post for Aldea-Galega, ten leagues from the spot where he then was: and finding, on his arrival, a boat and two fishermen, he embarked and crossed the Tagus, at that place three leagues in breadth, to Lisbon.

Mr. d’Ablancourt, envoy from Lewis the XIVth to the court of Portugal, relates in his memoirs, that the duke of Braganza landed in the court of the palace, which forms a long square enclosed on three sides by the Alfandega palace, and different private houses, whilst the fourth is open to the Tagus, from which it is separated by a terrace guarded by a wall, that this very spacious square was crowded by people of every description, who for the last two days had been in constant expectation of the prince, with their faces continually turned towards Aldea-Galega; but not one amongst them, adds this author, had the smallest suspicion that the little fishing-boat which was making towards the shore contained their king, who passed unnoticed across the square, and was not made known to the people, till he mounted a kind of scaffolding, on which was placed the throne, when he was saluted and proclaimed king with every testimony of joy by the Portugueze.

Magnificent fire-works were displayed that night in the most public parts of the city, and bonfires blazed, particularly before the citizens’ houses, every one of which was so brilliantly illuminated with wax lights and flambeaux, that the whole of the city wore the appearance of a general conflagration. This circumstance caused a Spaniard to remark, that this prince was indeed fortunate, thus to purchase a fine kingdom for a bonfire.

A general insurrection throughout Portugal was the immediate consequence of the one at Lisbon; and the revolution was so quickly completed, that it appeared as if every town in the kingdom waited for nothing more than an example from the capital to take up arms in favour of the duke. Couriers were dispatched daily to that prince, with intelligence of the Spaniards being driven from the different provinces and towns, all of which were ready to acknowledge him as their king. The governors of forts and other strong places displayed as little resolution as the commander of the citadel at Lisbon, and whether from want of troops, courage or ammunition, they shamefully surrendered; the greatest part without a single shot being fired. Every one appeared apprehensive of sharing the fate of Vasconcellos, and trembled at being exposed to the fury of an enraged populace. They indeed quitted Portugal with all the haste and trepidation of criminals escaped from prison; and in less than a fortnight not a single Spaniard remained in the kingdom.

Don Fernando de la Cueva alone, who was governor of the citadel of St. Joam, at the mouth of the Tagus, seemed resolutely bent on opposing the general revolution, and preserving the place committed to his charge for the king his master. His garrison was composed of Spaniards, who fighting under the command of brave officers, vigorously resisted the first attack of the Portugueze. It was then judged necessary to commence a regular siege, and cannon being sent for from Lisbon, they opened the trenches, and broke through the counterscarp, notwithstanding the continual fire and frequent sallies of the besieged; but negociations being always the safest, and generally the shortest method of terminating affairs of this nature, the king offered such advantageous terms to the governor, that he found himself no longer able to resist; he was, indeed, so dazzled by the tempting promises of a considerable sum of money, and a commandery in the order of Christ, that he concluded the treaty, and surrendered the citadel, on pretence of the insufficiency of his troops to defend it, though the principal officers of the garrison refused to sign the capitulation.

The king judging it improper to delay his coronation, which would give a sanction to the regal dignity, and render his person more sacred in the eyes of his people, fixed the ceremony for the fifteenth of December, when it took place with all possible magnificence[20]. The duke d’Aveiro, the marquis de Villa-Real, with his son the duke de Caminha, the count de Monsam, and all the other grandees of the kingdom were present. His majesty was received at the gate of the cathedral by the archbishop of Lisbon, at the head of the clergy, and by several other bishops; and he was solemnly acknowledged king of Portugal by the states-general of the nation, all of which immediately took the oath of allegiance.

In a few days afterwards the queen, attended by a numerous retinue, arrived at Lisbon. She was met at some distance by the whole court, and she had already in her train the officers appointed to compose her household. The king himself went out of Lisbon to receive her; he indeed wished not only to treat her with all the magnificence due to her new dignity, but to prove to her by every action, that he thought himself in a great measure indebted to her for his crown. This princess was endowed with so much native dignity, and displayed such majesty and sweetness, that she seemed born to grace the throne she now so happily filled.

Thus terminated an enterprise, which was conducted with a degree of secrecy that appears almost miraculous, considering the number and different descriptions of persons to whom it was confided. It was, however, the natural consequence of the aversion so long, and so generally felt to the Spanish government; an aversion which took place on the first establishment of the monarchy, owing to the frequent wars between these neighbouring nations; which was greatly increased by commercial disputes, and the rivalship occasioned by the discovery of America; and which, since the Portugueze became subject to the dominion of Castille, was changed into the most deadly hatred.

The news of this sudden revolution soon reached the court of Spain. The prime minister was inexpressibly afflicted, and reduced to despair at having been thus circumvented in his designs. The king, his master, was at that moment in so unpleasant a situation, that he needed nothing new to add to his embarrassments; he had sufficient employment in defending himself against France and Holland, and the pernicious example set by the rebellious Catalonians, filled his mind with the most painful apprehensions.

The king alone, of all his court, remained in ignorance of this important event, no one daring to speak to him on the subject, from the fear of incensing the minister, who would not easily have forgiven such officious zeal. The affair, however, began to be spoken of so publicly, that all hopes of longer concealment were vain; and the count-duke fearing some of his enemies might reveal the business in a manner disadvantageous to his interest, decided on being the first to communicate it to his majesty; but being perfectly well acquainted with the character of that prince, he contrived to represent the affair in so artful a manner, that the king was not at first aware of the extent of his misfortune: “Sire,” said he, addressing him with an assured air and open countenance, “I come to congratulate you on a fortunate event, your majesty has just obtained a considerable dutchy, and some very fine estates.” “By what means, count?” replied the king, all astonishment at this discourse. “The duke of Braganza,” resumed the minister, “has madly suffered himself to be seduced by the populace, who have proclaimed him king of Portugal; his estates are therefore forfeited, and become the property of your majesty; who, by the total annihilation of this family, will in future reign securely and peaceably over that kingdom.”

This prince, however, notwithstanding the weakness of his character, was not sufficiently dazzled by the magnificent prospects laid before him, to believe it probable such brilliant hopes could be realised without the greatest difficulty; but having long been accustomed to regard objects in the same point of view as his minister, he simply answered, that it would be necessary to suppress, as soon as possible, a rebellion, which might otherwise be attended by the most dangerous consequences.

The king of Portugal, in the mean time, was particularly active in disposing every thing in such a manner, as to secure his newly acquired throne, and place it on the firmest foundation. Immediately on his arrival at Lisbon, he appointed governors to all the frontier towns, and took care to make choice of faithful, brave, and experienced men, who set off directly for their respective governments, attended by a sufficient number of the military, and lost no time in fortifying and putting in the best state of defence the different places committed to their charge. His majesty also gave out numerous commissions for the levying of troops, and convened the states-general of the nation immediately after his coronation. He then caused his claims to the crown to be strictly examined, that not the smallest doubt might remain in the breasts of the Portugueze on that subject. A solemn act then took place, by which he was acknowledged lawful king of Portugal, as descendant, by the princess, his mother, of the infant Edward, son of the king Emmanual; thus excluding the king of Spain, who was descended from a daughter of the said Emmanual; which daughter having espoused a foreign prince, was, by the fundamental laws of Portugal, rendered incapable of reigning over that kingdom[21].

His majesty declared in this assembly, that the produce of his own patrimonial estates being sufficient for the maintenance of his household, he should reserve all the royal demesnes, or crown lands, for the use of the kingdom in general; and to prove to the people what they had to expect from the mildness and justice of his government, he abolished all the taxes so heavily imposed upon them by the Spaniards.

The principal places and employments of the state were bestowed on those of the conspirators who had displayed the greatest zeal in his cause. Pinto, however, had no share in these different promotions, the king prudently judging, that his authority was not yet sufficiently established, to enable him to raise one of his domestics, of an ignoble birth, to a great and important employment; but this did not prevent his having the greatest ascendance over the mind of his majesty, and indeed over the whole kingdom; for though he could not boast the title of minister, or secretary of state, yet such was the intimate confidence in which he was held by his master, that he performed all the functions of those two great offices.

Having thus arranged every thing to his satisfaction in the interior of his kingdom, he applied himself assiduously to form a strict alliance with all the enemies of the king of Spain; and even, if possible, to raise himself up new ones. He therefore endeavoured to induce his brother-in-law, the duke of Medina Sidonia, who was governor of Andalusia, to make himself independent in that province, or in other words, to follow his example, and take upon himself the sovereign authority. The marquis d’Aïamonte, a Spanish nobleman, related to the queen of Portugal, was employed in this negociation, the success of which will be made known in the sequel of this work.

The new king of Portugal sent ambassadors to all the courts of Europe, to engage them to acknowledge his sovereignty. He farmed a league, offensive and defensive, with the Dutch and Catalonians; ad he was assured of the protection of France[22]. The king of Spain gave the greatest proof of his want of power, by never making a forcible attack on the frontiers of Portugal during the whole course of the campaign, owing most probably to the rebellion in Catalonia having employed all his forces; whatever indeed he attempted, was always unsuccessful, and his troops never gained the smallest advantage. Sometime afterwards, intelligence was received that Goa, and every other country subjected to the Portugueze government, whether in India, Africa, or Peru, had joined in the revolution of the mother country. Thus all things appeared to combine to ensure the king of Portugal a succession of good fortune, a peaceable reign at home, and victory abroad; when in the midst of such seeming happiness, he was on the point of losing his sceptre with his life, by means of a detestable conspiracy, secretly formed, not only in Lisbon, but even in the centre of his court.

The archbishop of Braga was, as has been already mentioned, the creature of Spain. He was one of the ministers of that country in Portugal, and had no hopes of being reinstated in his employment, unless the Spanish government should be re-established. He was indeed apprehensive, that though the new king had hitherto appeared to respect his sacred character, by forbearing to make him share the prison to which he had condemned the Spaniards, he would most probably be included in the same disgrace, when once the king felt himself assured of the solidity of his government. But what principally induced him to make a serious attempt in favour of Spain, was his uniform attachment to the vice-queen: he was in despair at the idea of her being a prisoner in a country, over which he thought she had a right to reign; and his resentment was raised to a still higher pitch from not being allowed to see her. Indeed not only he, but every other person of distinction who was at first permitted to attend her, had received the same prohibition; it having been sufficiently proved that the princess had abused the indulgence granted her by his majesty, and had taken every opportunity of instigating the Portugueze to rebel against his authority. The archbishop regarded this conduct as insupportably tyrannical. This princess, in his mind’s eye, seemed to look up to him alone for protection, and to solicit her liberty from his hands, in return for the favours she had so continually bestowed upon him; the remembrance of her kindness added fuel to the flame which consumed him, and made him decide on attempting all and every thing to prove his gratitude, and revenge her injuries; but it being scarcely possible either to surprise or bribe the guards who attended her, he was resolved to strike at once at the root of the evil, and, by the king’s death, liberate the princess and re-establish her authority.

Having taken this resolution, he reflected in what manner he could best and soonest execute his design: he had every reason to believe that he should not long enjoy the place of president of the palace, and that he should most probably be obliged to retire to Braga. Such was the hatred borne by the people towards the Spaniards, that he very well knew it would be impossible to engage them in his party, consequently he could not adopt the measures so successfully taken by his majesty; nor would the nobles accede to his proposal, they having been the principal means of placing him on the throne. His only resource then was in the grandees; the greatest part of whom, so far from having contributed to the revolution, submitted with a very ill grace to the elevation of the house of Braganza. Having therefore secured the protection of the Spanish minister, he addressed himself to the marquis de Villa-Real, to whom he represented that the new king; naturally timid and suspicious, would never fail seeking occasions to humble his family, lest his successor should suffer from such powerful subjects: that the duke d’Aveiro and himself, though both princes of the blood, were not employed in any of the great offices of the state, such distinctions being all bestowed, as rewards, on a tribe of rebels: that all well thinking people were shocked that a prince like the marquis de Villa-Real should meet with such contemptuous treatment, and languish in shameful inactivity in the centre of his province: that his high birth and great riches placed him above submitting to the authority of a petty king; and that he had lost in the Spanish monarch the only sovereign, who, having so many different kingdoms and governments to bestow, could place him in a situation conformable to the dignity of his birth.

The archbishop, on perceiving that his harangue had made no small impression on the mind of Villa-Real, proceeded to inform him, that he had received orders from the king of Spain to promise him the vice-royalty of Portugal, in reward for his fidelity; he was, however, far from intending to bestow on him that dignity, having no other view than to procure the liberty of the duchess of Mantua, and reinstate her in her former situation; but it was necessary to seduce Villa-Real by the most brilliant prospects, and he succeeded so well, that he consented to place himself, together with his son, the duke de Caminha, at the head of this conspiracy.

Being once secure of the support of these two princes, his next care was to engage his particular friend, the grand inquisitor, in his interest. The acquisition of such a man to the party was of the greatest importance, since his example would be certainly followed by all the officers of the inquisition; a body of men who are still more formidable to the good than to the wicked, and who possess the greatest influence over the minds of the Portugueze. The archbishop alledged reasons of conscience to induce them to join in his enterprise; and reminded them of their oath of allegiance to the king of Spain, which ought never to be violated in favour of a rebel: to these arguments he added the more powerful one of self interest, representing, that not one amongst them could reasonably expect to enjoy his present post for any length of time under a prince who never failed filling all employments with his own particular friends and favourites.

Several months passed on in increasing the number of conspirators; amongst whom the leading ones were the commissary de la Cruzada; the count d’Armamar, the nephew of the archbishop; the count de Ballerais; don Augustin Emmanuel; Antonio Correa, Vasconcellos’ clerk, who was stabbed by Menezes at the first breaking out of the conspiracy which placed don John on the throne; and Laurent Pires de Carvalho, keeper of the royal treasury; all of whom were creatures of Spain, who owed their places and fortunes to that country, and who could have little hopes of preserving them but by the restoration of the Castilian government.

The Jews, who reside in great numbers at Lisbon, and conform outwardly to the Christian religion, were likewise engaged in this conspiracy. They had lately offered immense sums to his majesty, to engage him to put a stop to the persecutions of the inquisition, and to allow them the public exercise of their religion: these offers had been refused, and the resentment they felt on the occasion was an excellent ground-work for the archbishop to build his hopes on of inducing them to join his party. He therefore contrived private meetings with some of the principals, who were in the greatest trepidation at having so unseasonably declared themselves; which act of imprudence could not fail of exposing them to all the malice and cruelty of the inquisition. The artful prelate took advantage of their fears, and promised them the protection of the grand inquisitor, whom they well knew to be at his disposal, if they would consent to his plan; alarming them at the same time with the probability of their being banished from Portugal by a prince so devoted to the Catholic faith; whilst, if they could be prevailed upon to assist in re-establishing the old government, he would venture to engage in the name of the king of Spain, that they should not only be allowed liberty of conscience, but a synagogue, and every other indulgence they could possibly require. Such indeed was the violence and malignancy of this priest, that he did not blush to league himself with the enemies of Christ to dethrone his lawful sovereign.

This instance may, perhaps, be quoted as the only one, of the inquisition and synagogue’s acting in concert, and joining heartily together to promote the same cause.

The conspirators, after having deliberated on several different plans, for ensuring the success of their enterprise, at last adopted one proposed by the archbishop, who had consulted the principal Spanish minister on the occasion. It was, therefore, unanimously agreed, that on the fifth of August, the Jews should not only set fire to the four corners of the palace, but to several other houses in the city, by which means the people would be sufficiently employed in their different quarters, without attending to what passed in the palace, whither the conspirators were to repair immediately, on pretence of endeavouring to extinguish the flames; but, in the midst of the hurry and confusion occasioned by so dreadful an event, they were to seek an opportunity of approaching the king, and stabbing him to the heart, whilst the duke de Caminha should secure the person of the queen, together with those of the young princes, her sons, in order to take the same advantage of their situation, which had been taken of the princess of Mantua, to enforce the surrender of the citadel. Fire-works were at the same time to be employed in burning the fleet; and the archbishop, together with the grand inquisitor, and the officers of the holy brotherhood, were to parade through the streets, to prevent any commotions amongst the people; who would never venture to take an active part in the business, from their natural dread of drawing upon themselves the indignation of the inquisition. The marquis de Villa-Real was to be appointed governor of the kingdom, till the Spanish monarch should make known his intentions relative to the measures to be taken on so important an occasion.

There was, however, no certainty of the people declaring in their favour: it was, therefore, deemed necessary to be provided with troops to enforce their obedience. They, accordingly, decided on applying to the count-duke to engage him to send a considerable fleet on the coast; which would then be in readiness to enter the port on the first breaking out of the conspiracy; and immediately on receiving intelligence of their success, he was to be requested to march troops to the frontiers, to subdue all, and every one, who should be tempted to make any further resistance. This plan, however, was easier imagined than executed, it being extremely difficult for the conspirators to hold any secret correspondance with the prime minister; the king having placed guards on the frontiers, in consequence of the discovery he had made of the princess of Mantua’s having written to Madrid, with the strictest orders not to allow any one to quit the kingdom, without his express permission. Any attempt to corrupt these guards might be attended with danger, since those who betrayed their sovereign, might likewise betray them, and deliver up their letters, relating, at the same time, the methods employed to tempt them from their duty.

The absolute necessity of speedily acquainting the prime-minister with their intentions, without whose assistance their plot must infallibly fall to the ground, induced them to confide in a rich Lisbon merchant, who was treasurer to the custom-house, and whose extensive trade throughout the whole of Europe caused his majesty to grant him the particular privilege of corresponding with Castille. This man, whose name was Baëse, publicly professed the Christian religion; but being one of those who in Portugal are termed new Christians, he was generally suspected of secretly observing the rites of the Jewish church. A very large sum was offered to engage him in the conspiracy, which, joined to the exhortations of those amongst the Jews who were in the secret, prevailed upon him to accept their proposals, and to undertake conveying their letters to the count-duke d’Olivares.[23]

Baësa being charged with the pacquet, directed it to the marquis d’Aïamonte, governor of the first frontier town in Spain, in the full persuasion that, being once safely out of Portugal, there could be no farther cause of apprehension; but, the marquis who was nearly related to the queen of Portugal, and was actually carrying on a negociation with the new king, no sooner perceived the great seal of the inquisition of Lisbon, than he broke open the letters, dreading lest they should contain something relative to his secret correspondence with the king and queen of Portugal; and on discovering the plan of a conspiracy on the point of breaking out, which was to destroy the king and the whole of the royal family, he immediately sent back the pacquet to his majesty, whose astonishment was inexpressible, when, on perusing these letters, he perceived that the princes of his blood, an archbishop, and several grandees of his court, all of whom had demonstrated the greatest joy on his advancement, were conspiring not only to deprive him of the crown, but to put an end to his existence.

His privy council was immediately summoned and the resolutions taken therein were, in a few days afterwards, put into execution. Eleven o’clock in the night of the fifth of August being, according to the intercepted letters, appointed by the conspirators to commence their operations, his majesty, under pretence of a general review in the great court of the palace, called in all the troops quartered in the neighbourhood, at ten o’clock that same morning. He also gave with his own hands, and in secret, several sealed notes to those of his courtiers whom he knew to be the most attached to his person, with strict orders not to open their respective billets till twelve at noon, when the commands contained therein must be punctually and immediately obeyed. About the same hour, the king, pretending business, sent for the archbishop and the marquis de Villa-Real into his cabinet, where their persons were instantly seized; whilst the captain of the guard arrested the duke de Caminha in the public market-place at the same moment. The sealed billets being then opened, the persons to whom they were addressed, in obedience to their contents, separately seized on a conspirator, and conveyed him to prison, there to be strictly guarded till farther orders; and such was the prudence of the measures taken on this occasion, and so faithfully were they executed, that, in less than an hour the forty-seven conspirators were secured, without even the smallest effort being made towards effecting their escape.

The people, on the first report of the conspiracy, crowded tumultuously to the palace, and loudly demanded that the traitors should be instantly delivered up to them. But, though the king was delighted with the affection displayed by his subjects, he felt uneasy at such a multitude, being thus suddenly assembled; fearing such commotions might become habitual, and end, as is always the case, in sedition. He, therefore, after expressing his acknowledgments for their solicitude for the welfare of his person, and assuring them the traitors should meet with the punishment due to their crimes, gave orders to the magistrates to disperse them. This prince, however, lest the resentment of the people should abate, and, as it frequently happens, their furious rage towards the criminals turn to sentiments of commiseration, on reflecting on their wretchedness, thought proper to make public that the design of the conspirators was not only to assassinate him, with the whole of the royal family, but to set fire to the city, when every thing which escaped the fury of the flames must naturally become the prey of the rebels: that Spain, to prevent any future conspiracies, and to wreak its vengeance on the Portugueze, had resolved on peopling the town with a colony of Castilians, and to transport all the citizens to the mines in America, where they would be buried alive in those dreadful abysses, in which they had already destroyed so many miserable human beings.

Judges were next appointed for the trial of the conspirators; these were chosen from the sovereign chamber, but on account of the archbishop of Braga, the marquis de Villa-Real and the duke de Caminha, it was thought proper to give them two grandees of the kingdom as coadjutors.

The commissaries on this occasion received orders from his majesty, not to produce the intercepted letters, unless absolutely necessary to the conviction of the criminals, lest the court of Spain should suspect the manner by which he had obtained possession of those letters, and discover his correspondence with the marquis d’Aïamonte. Fortunately, however, such proofs were not requisite, Baësa having contradicted himself so palpably in his answers to the principal interrogatories, that he was put to the torture, and the miserable wretch no sooner felt the first pangs, than his courage failed him, and he confessed all the particulars of the plot. He owned the design of assassinating the king; declared that the office of the inquisition was well stored with arms, and that they only waited for an answer from the count-duke to put their plan into execution.

The greater part of the other conspirators, on being put to the torture, confirmed the deposition of the Jew; but the archbishop, the grand inquisitor, the marquis de Villa-Real and the duke de Caminha, in order to avoid so dreadful a punishment, confessed their guilt. The two latter were condemned to lose their heads, and the rest to be hanged and quartered; whilst his majesty himself was to pronounce sentence on the ecclesiastics.

The king thereupon assembled his council, and addressing his ministers, declared, that he had reason to fear the execution of so many people of distinction might be attended by dangerous consequences: that the principal conspirators being of the first families in the kingdom, their relations would naturally become secret enemies, and that the passion of revenge would naturally give birth to another conspiracy: that the execution of the comte d’Egmont in Flanders, and that of the Guises in France, had been fatal to the causes in support of which they had been employed; but that the generous pardon he thought of granting to some amongst them, together with a punishment, perhaps more severe than death, which he should inflict on others, would interest every heart in his favour, and force even the conspirators, their relations and friends, to look up to him in future with gratitude. His majesty, however, added, that though his inclinations led him to pursue lenient measures, he had, nevertheless, assembled his council, to be informed of their opinion, and to follow that which should appear to be the best.

The marquis de Ferreira first spoke on this occasion, and voted for the speedy execution of the criminals; alledging in the strongest terms that sovereigns, in cases of this nature, should be guided by justice alone; that clemency might probably be attended by dangerous consequences, since the pardon of traitors would be much sooner attributed to weakness of character in a prince than to real goodness; that a government which permitted such crimes to pass off with impunity, would infallibly be despised, and would likewise encourage the relations of the delinquent not only to attempt to liberate them from prison, but to carry their designs still farther; that an example of severity was absolutely necessary on his accession to the crown, were it only to intimidate others from forming plots of the same nature; in short, that these men were not only traitors to the king himself, but to the state, which they were on the point of overturning; and that his majesty ought sooner to consider the justice he owed to his people, by bringing them to condign punishment, than attend to the dictates of his own feeling heart, in a case where the preservation of his majesty’s person and the public security must ever be inseparable. This opinion being unanimously supported by all the members of the council, the king gave up his judgment to theirs, and the sentence was put in execution on the following day. The archbishop of Lisbon being anxious to preserve the life of one of his friends, addressed himself to the queen to obtain his pardon, and asked this favour in full confidence that the services he had rendered to the house of Braganza were of such a nature, that no demand of his could possibly be refused. But her majesty, who was perfectly convinced of the necessity, and indeed the justice of punishing such traitors, and who clearly perceived how much a distinction in favour of one would irritate the friends and relations of the remaining conspirators (since in this case, and indeed in many others, clemency would become injustice) was decided on this occasion to make the natural gentleness of her disposition yield to the superior motives of impartial justice; and turning towards the prelate, with an air and tone of voice which forbad all reply, “Archbishop,” said she, “the only favour you can possibly expect from me is, that I should forget you have ever spoken to me on the subject.”

The king, however, out of respect to the clergy of Portugal, and indeed to obtain the favour of the court of Rome, which from regard to the house of Austria, had hitherto refused to receive his ambassadors, mitigated the sentence pronounced on the archbishop of Braga and the grand inquisitor, and condemned them to perpetual imprisonment. The arch-bishop’s illness and death were soon after announced to the public: such events, it is well known, frequently happen to certain state prisoners, who, from political motives, are not suffered to perish on a scaffold.

The manner by which the king of Portugal became acquainted with this conspiracy, was for a long time unknown to the court of Spain, nor did the Spanish monarch discover the person who dispatched the archbishop’s letters to Lisbon, till another conspiracy was forming against himself.

The king of Portugal, as has been already mentioned, kept up a constant correspondence with the enemies of Spain; his ports were open to the French and Dutch fleets; he had a resident both at Barcelona and with the insurgents in Catalonia; and he left no means untried to cause confusion in the very heart of Spain, in order to occupy the mind of Philip the IVth, in a way to give him no time to attend to the affairs of Portugal.

The new monarch had already partly succeeded in sowing the seeds of rebellion in the breast of his brother-in-law, the duke de Medina-Sidonia; and their mutual confident the marquis d’Aïamonte, a Castilian nobleman, had completed his seduction. This latter was nearly related to the queen of Portugal and the duke; and the situation of his estate at the mouth of the Guadiana, near the frontiers of Portugal, greatly favoured his secret correspondence with that court. Naturally ambitious, he wished to raise his fortunes, and flattered himself his own elevation would be the consequence of that of the two houses of Braganza and Medina-Sidonia. He was a man of a daring, enterprising character, discontented with the conduct of the prime minister, and possessed of that perfect indifference for life so necessary to all those who engage in great and difficult undertakings.

Immediately on the discovery of the archbishop of Braga’s conspiracy; the marquis d’Aïamonte wrote secretly to the duke de Medina-Sidonia to congratulate him on the escape of his sister the queen of Portugal, and the rest of the royal family; insinuating at the same time, how nearly it concerned him, that the new monarch should preserve a crown, which must necessarily descend to his own nephews; and that Portugal, from its vicinity to Castile, would ensure him a retreat on any emergency; especially during the ministry of the count-duke whose arrogance and despotic system of politics had no other object than to seek occasions of humbling the grandees. He added, too, it was far from certain that the minister, though his relation, would long permit him to enjoy the government of so large a province in the neighbourhood of Portugal; that this subject was worthy his serious reflections; and that if the duke was willing to be more fully acquainted with his sentiments on the occasion, he would immediately send him a faithful friend, to whom he might safely confide his most secret thoughts.

The duke de Medina-Sidonia, naturally proud and vain, and whose jealousy had been secretly raised by the regal dignity of his brother-in-law, presently perceived that the marquis’s letter was only a cover for much deeper designs; he therefore instantly sent off a certain Louis de Castille, his confident, to confer with him on the subject. The marquis on opening his credentials, did not scruple to unbosom himself; and after having reminded him of the ease with which the duke of Braganza had mounted the throne of Portugal; he added, that it was impossible for the duke of Medina-Sidonia to make choice of a more favourable juncture to secure the fortunes of his house, and to render it for ever independent of the crown of Spain. He next represented, that the long war with France and Holland had nearly exhausted the king’s forces, the greater part of which were necessarily employed in Catalonia; that this was the favourable moment for stirring up a rebellion in Andalusia, and carrying the war into the very centre of the kingdom; that the people, ever lovers of novelty, and loaded with taxes, would submit with pleasure to a change of government; and that the duke de Medina-Sidonia was not less beloved in Castille, than Braganza in Portugal. It would, however, be necessary to engage his lieutenant-governors in his interest, though without entrusting them with his secret; that he had nothing to do, but to place his partizans in the most important posts; he would then have no difficulty in securing the galleons which were daily expected from India; and that the king of Portugal would aid and assist him in his design, by sending a great fleet into Cadiz, consisting not only of his own vessels, but those of his allies, having on board land forces, which would presently subdue all and every one ill-advised enough to make impotent efforts in support of their allegiance to the king of Spain.

The account of this conversation fired the duke with ambition, and his head grew giddy at the idea of a crown. His post of lord high admiral, and governor of Castille, placed the sea and land forces under his command. He was the proprietor of considerable towns, and extensive domains, all of which invested him with almost absolute power; and he was thus induced to believe, in the first effervescence of his ambitious projects, that it depended on himself alone to become master of a crown, and to own no superior in the province of Andalusia.

Louis de Castille was immediately sent once more to the marquis d’Aïamonte, with assurances of his entering perfectly into his views; and also to consult with him on the measures to be pursued relative to the court of Portugal. The duke, in the mean time, employed himself in securing the interest of his friends and followers, and increasing their number: he frequently let drop hints unfavourable to the government, and expressed sentiments of compassion for the soldiers, who did not receive their pay, and for the people, who were sinking under the burthen of taxes.

The marquis d’Aïamonte was no sooner informed of the duke’s determination, than he was anxious to form a regular plan of operations. A conference with the king of Portugal was absolutely necessary, but the marquis was too well known on the frontiers to venture into that kingdom: he therefore decided on entrusting this delicate negociation to an intriguing friar, who had long been attached to his interest, and whose sacred habit would give him free admittance into that inquisitorial country. This friar, who was named father Nicolas de Velasco, was of the order of St. Francis. He proceeded immediately to Castro Marino, the first town in Portugal, where he pretended he came only to settle the ransom of a Castilian prisoner confined in that place. The king of Portugal, who was in the secret of the marquis d’Aïamonte, gave orders to arrest him as a spy, and he was conveyed to Lisbon loaded with chains, and there examined by the ministers themselves, who sent him to prison, where he was for some time strictly guarded, and treated with apparent severity; but he was soon after set at liberty, on pretence of its having been proved, that his visit to Portugal was merely to obtain the freedom of a Spanish officer, and he was even allowed to attend at the palace to plead his cause, which gave him an opportunity of conferring with the ministers, without being suspected by the spies employed by the court of Madrid. He had also frequent interviews with his majesty, who promised him a bishopric in reward of his services; and the franciscan was so elated at such brilliant prospects, that he became a constant attendant at court, where he visited the queen, beset the ministers, and even entered into the different intrigues of the courtiers, merely with a view to shew his own consequence, and the degree of favour in which he stood with the king. Thus, without absolutely revealing the secret of his mission, he betrayed himself by his imprudent and ostentatious conduct.—Courtiers are ever on the watch, and cast a jealous eye on every new favourite, they therefore presently discovered his imprisonment to be a mere pretext for introducing him at court. Different conjectures were formed relative to his business in Portugal, and a Castilian, at that time prisoner in Lisbon, soon unravelled the mystery. This man, whose name was Sancho, was a creature of the duke de Medina-Sidonia, and was treasurer of the army before the last revolution. The new king of Portugal had thrown him into prison, together with all the Castilians then at Lisbon, and he was treated with peculiar severity. He no sooner, therefore, learnt that a Spanish franciscan enjoyed so much favour at court, than he suspected some secret intrigue, and on this idea founded his hopes of liberty. He wrote to the friar to implore his protection, and expressed himself so respectfully, that he could not fail to interest his vanity in his behalf; complaining at the same time of the king of Portugal’s having so long imprisoned, and hardly treated, a servant and friend of his own brother-in-law, the duke of Medina-Sidonia. To prove the truth of his assertions, he sent the franciscan several letters from that nobleman, in which he charged him with the execution of different affairs, in a style of confidence and superiority suitable to his rank, and the protection with which he honoured him.

The franciscan’s answer was short, but expressive of the interest he took in every one belonging to the duke de Medina-Sidonia. He assured him that he would neglect nothing to obtain his liberty, only entreating him to observe the strictest secrecy during the whole of the affair. The artful Castilian, not to give cause of suspicion, waited some time the effect of his promises; till growing impatient, he at last wrote again, representing that he had languished seven months in a loathsome prison; that the Spanish minister seemed to have forgotten his situation, since neither ransom nor exchange had hitherto been proposed, and that his only hopes of liberty centered in him.

The franciscan, ever happy to raise himself in the opinion of the duke de Medina-Sidonia, applied to his majesty in favour of Sancho, and obtained his liberty. He went in person to deliver him from prison, and offered to include him in the passport granted by the king to some domestics of the duchess of Mantua, who were returning to Madrid. To this the cunning Castilian replied, that he now considered the city of Madrid as a foreign land, and that he could not possibly appear at court, without risking another imprisonment, since the severe and inexorable prime minister would not fail to insist on an exact account of the receipts of his office, though the cash had been pillaged during the revolution, and not even the register remained; artfully adding, in order to probe the franciscan, that the first wish of his heart was to return to his patron, the duke of Medina-Sidonia, that nobleman being sufficiently powerful to make his fortune, without being obliged to quit Andalusia.

The franciscan, who was in want of a confidential person to acquaint the marquis d’Aïamonte with the success of his negotiation, and to bring him fresh directions for his future conduct, thought he could not possibly fix upon a safer man than the devoted servant of the duke de Medina-Sidonia. He therefore detained the Castilian some time, on pretence of procuring him a passport, but in reality to make his observations, and to try his fidelity. Frequent meetings produced strict intimacy, and the more the politic Castilian took advantage of the franciscan’s vanity, to draw his secret from him. The friar wishing to convince him of the credit and consideration he enjoyed at the court of Portugal, could not abstain from saying, that he should soon appear in another habit, being certain of a bishopric, and that he even flattered himself he should one day be raised to the dignity of cardinal. Sancho affected to disbelieve him, in order to force him to avow his design, and the friar was so much piqued at his apparent incredulity, that he could not help exclaiming “What then will you say, when you shall see the duke de Medina-Sidonia seated on a throne?” Sancho thus drew him on by repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions, till he at last became master of every secret of his heart; and the franciscan confessed that he was charged with a negociation in which the king was concerned; that the duke de Medina-Sidonia would shortly be the sovereign of Andalusia; that the marquis d’Aïamonte, to whom the king of Portugal owed the discovery of the late conspiracy, was at the head of this business; that the affairs of Spain were on the point of assuming another aspect; and that it rested with him alone to become master of considerable riches, if he would only consent to convey his letters to the marquis and the duke de Medina-Sidonia. Sancho, delighted with the possession of so important a secret, eagerly accepted the proposal, and renewed his professions of attachment to the duke. He took charge of the letters, and offered, if it were judged adviseable, to return himself with the answers. He then set off immediately for Andalusia, but the moment he reached the Spanish territories, he took the direct road to Madrid; and on arriving in that city, went directly to the prime minister’s, who he desired might be made acquainted that Sancho, the treasurer of Portugal, lately escaped from the prisons of the usurper, requested to see him on an affair of great importance. The count-duke, naturally haughty, and difficult of access, refused to admit him to his presence, ordering him to return on the usual audience day; but Sancho, though thus rudely repulsed, was still importunate, declaring that he must see him, since the intelligence he brought related to the safety of the state, and calling God to witness his good faith, and the diligence he had employed to warn the minister of the impending danger.

The warmth of these expressions being reported to the count-duke, orders were given for his admittance; when Sancho, throwing himself at the minister’s feet, exclaimed, that the safety of the state was now secured, since he was allowed to present himself before him. He then related his situation during the last revolution; the conspiracy formed by the duke de Medina-Sidonia; explaining the plan of his intended operations, his correspondence with the king of Portugal; the plot for taking possession of the galleons, for delivering up Cadiz to the enemy, and employing the armed forces under his command throughout his government of Andalusia, against his lawful sovereign. To prove the truth of his declarations, Sancho next produced the franciscan’s letters, written in cypher, to the marquis d’Aïamonte, and the duke de Medina, and containing the whole plan of the conspiracy.

The count-duke was struck with surprise and consternation at such extraordinary intelligence, and remained some time speechless: but on recovering himself, he threw aside his natural haughtiness, and assuming a gracious air, praised Sancho for his loyalty, adding, that he deserved to be doubly rewarded, not only for having discovered so pernicious a design, but for not having scrupled to reveal it to the nearest relation of the principal conspirator. He was then conveyed to a private apartment, with strict orders to prevent his seeing or conversing with any one; and the minister immediately hastened to the king, whom he informed of every thing that had passed, presenting him at the same time with the franciscan’s letters.

The discovery of so black a conspiracy deeply affected Philip, who had indeed for a long time feared and detested the extraordinary pride of the Guzmans; and when he reflected on the recent loss he had sustained of the kingdom of Portugal, which he attributed to the ambitious character of the duchess of Braganza, he could not refrain from remarking to the minister, in a reproachful accent, that all the misfortunes of Spain proceeded from that family. This prince neither wanted penetration nor genius, but he was immersed in pleasures, and hated business; every exertion which required attention gave him pain, and he would willingly have sacrificed part of his dominions to the indulgence of his natural indolence. The first emotions of his anger being, therefore, passed, he returned the franciscan’s letters to the count-duke, without even breaking the seals; and gave orders to have them examined by three counsellors of state, who were to give their opinions on the contents.

This conduct vested the management of the affair entirely in the prime minister, who employed three of his creatures to draw up a brief statement of the case, and decypher the friar’s letters. Sancho was frequently interrogated, and endeavours were used to make him acquit the duke of Medina de Sidonia, whom the prime minister was anxious to save: he accordingly sent for Sancho, before he was questioned by the commissaries, and affecting those confidential manners so frequently put on by the great, to seduce and flatter those with whom they have business to transact. “In what manner, my dear Sancho,” said he, “can we possibly justify the duke de Medina from an accusation, which is grounded merely on the letters of an obscure friar, who most probably has been bribed by our enemies, to make us suspect the fidelity of a man who has hitherto rendered such services to his majesty in the province of Andalusia.”

Sancho, perfectly convinced of the truth of his deposition, and fearing, that should he waver, or endeavour to soften his evidence, he might forfeit his expected reward, persisted in asserting that a conspiracy was actually formed against the state, of which the duke was the chief, and the marquis d’Aïamonte the principal negociator; that he had himself seen their letters in the possession of the franciscan, and that an insurrection in Andalusia would infallibly take place, if speedy precautions were not taken to prevent the evil designs of the governor of that province.

The minister, who was unwilling to dive too deeply into this business, took an opportunity of informing the king, that the Franciscan’s letters had been decyphered, and that, according to all appearance, he had been suborned to seek the ruin of the duke de Medina; adding, that Sancho himself might very probably have been deceived by this artful friar, since neither any of the duke’s own letters, nor witnesses of any sort could be produced against him, and that the whole of this accusation turned on letters, which might very well be the off-spring of calumny. It would, however, be adviseable, in an affair of such great importance, to take all possible precautions, and to contrive to entice the duke to quit his government, in which it would be difficult to secure his person; and then to send a supply of troops to Cadiz, making sure at the same time of the marquis d’Aïamonte, and if on enquiry they were proved guilty, they might afterwards be delivered up to all the severity of the law.

The advice of the prime minister was a still more imperious law to Philip the IVth than to any of his subjects. He was naturally mild, indolent, and an enemy to sanguinary measures, he therefore readily confided the whole of the business to the management of the count-duke, who immediately dispatched his nephew, don Louis de Haro, with orders to acquaint the duke de Medina, that whether innocent or guilty, he must repair directly to court; assuring him, however, that should the accusation be proved against him, he might depend on his pardon, but that his ruin would be inevitable, should he delay obeying the commands of his sovereign. Another courier was also sent off to secure the person of the marquis d’Aïamonte; and the duke de Ciudad-Real, at the head of five thousand men, entered Cadiz at the same moment.

The duke de Medina was thunderstruck at this intelligence. No alternative remained but implicit obedience, or flight into Portugal: but the idea of passing the whole of his existence as an outlaw, in a foreign country, was too humiliating, and too unworthy of a man of his superior rank; and there was no situation in Portugal equal to that rank to which he could possibly lay claim. The count-duke’s influence over the king was well known, he therefore determined on confiding in the promises of that minister, and set off immediately for Madrid, flattering himself that his ready obedience would dispose his majesty to believe him innocent, and even to grant him a pardon, should he be proved guilty.

The duke proceeded directly to the prime minister’s, and on receiving reiterated promises of forgiveness, disclosed the whole plan of the conspiracy, which he attributed entirely to the marquis d’Aïamonte. After this confession, the minister introduced him privately into the king’s closet, where the duke cast himself at his feet, which he bathed with his tears, and in that humble posture owned his guilt, and solicited forgiveness in the most affecting expressions of sorrow and repentance. The gentle heart of the king was moved with compassion, and melting into tears, he granted him his pardon, telling him at the same time, that he owed it to his remorse, and to the solicitations of the count-duke. He then dismissed him his presence; but it being not thought expedient to expose him to fresh temptations at so critical a juncture, he received orders to remain at court. Part of his great property was also confiscated, as having in some degree contributed to inspire him with sentiments of independence; and the king placed a governor, with a garrison, in Saint Lucar de Barameda, the usual residence of the dukes de Medina-Sidonia.

So anxious was the prime minister to convince the king of the sincerity of his relation’s repentance, that he tried to engage that nobleman to challenge the duke of Braganza, (as he termed him) to single combat. Medina-Sidonia was greatly surprised at this extraordinary proposal, and could not help reminding the minister, that the practice of duelling was forbidden by all laws, both human and divine; but on perceiving the count-duke still persisted in his design, he added, that it would be very difficult to proceed to such extremities with his brother-in-law, unless his majesty could procure a bull from the pope, to shield him from the dreadful excommunications pronounced by the church against duellists.

The minister replied, that in a moment like the present one, such scruples of conscience were unseasonable, and that it was his duty, by some striking action, to prove himself worthy the gracious pardon he had received, and at the same time remove every possible suspicion of his having any secret intelligence with the rebels. “But if,” continued he, “you are absolutely decided against fighting, all I require is, that you will not disavow the challenge I will take upon myself to publish in your name.” The duke, who plainly perceived that the whole of this business was intended to amuse the people, consented to the proposal of the challenge; the form of which was drawn up by the minister himself. Several copies were distributed throughout Spain, Portugal, and most of the courts in Europe. We will also insert it here, as a singular composition, much more worthy the pen of a knight errant, than that of a grandee of Spain, possessed of the first dignities of the kingdom.

Don Gaspar Alonço Perez de Gusman, duke of Medina-Sidonia, marquis, count, and lord of Saint Lucar de Barameda, captain-general of the sea, ocean, coasts of Andalusia, and armies of Portugal, gentleman of the bedchamber to his catholic majesty,

WHOM GOD PRESERVE.

“Whereas the treason of John (formerly duke) de Braganza, is a fact of the utmost notoriety; now I wish to make alike public his detestable intention of accusing the trusty house of Guzman of disloyalty, a house which has remained for centuries back, and will remain for ever obedient to its king and master; and this it has proved by the blood of all its relatives and dependants shed in his cause. This tyrant has poisoned the minds of foreign princes, and likewise those of the misguided Portugueze, who have embraced his party; and in order to give credit to his own wickedness, to animate them in his favour, and (although in vain) to injure me in the opinion of my master, (whom God preserve,) he has persuaded them that I am of his party; founding and establishing his preservation on the report he had himself circulated, and with which he had infected the minds of every one; thus flattering himself, that could he succeed in making the king of Spain suspect my loyalty, he should not meet with so much opposition from me in the execution of his designs, as he has done elsewhere. For this purpose he has made use of a franciscan friar, sent from the corporation of the town of Aïamonte, to Castro-Marin in Portugal, to obtain the liberty of a Spanish prisoner, which friar, being himself sent prisoner to Lisbon, has been worked upon to declare me of his party, and to that end has even published some letters which confirm his assertions, and accuse me of intending to favour the entrance of all foreign troops which might approach the coast of Andalusia, for the purpose of facilitating the means of obtaining the supplies he had demanded from the said foreign princes. And would to God it had been the case! since I should then have called the world to witness my zeal by destroying their fleet, a fate they must have experienced, according to the orders I had issued in case of such an attempt. The above are some of my motives for this appeal; but the principal subject of my griefs is his wife’s being allied to me by blood, which blood, being corrupted by this rebellion, I am desirous of shedding, thinking myself bound to prove to my king and master, by this action, the grateful sense I have of his having expressed himself satisfied of my loyalty; and also to remove from the minds of the public, the suspicions they most probably had imbibed, from the false impressions made upon them by the traitor.

“I therefore challenge the said John (formerly duke) de Braganza, as having broken his faith to his God and to his king; and I defy him to single combat, hand to hand, with or without seconds, at his choice, which I also give him of weapons. The place of combat to be near Valentia d’Alcantara, which serves as boundary to the two kingdoms of Portugal and Castille, and there will I wait for him eighty days, beginning from the first of October, and ending on the nineteenth of December of this present year. The twenty last days I will appear in person, in the market-place of the said Valentia, and on the day he shall appoint, I will wait for him on the limits. This space of time, although very long, I grant to the said tyrant, that the affair may be made known, not only to him, but to the greater part of the countries in Europe; nay, indeed, to the whole world: and on condition that he will grant a safeguard to the cavaliers whom I shall send forward a league into Portugal, as I will grant one to those of his party a league into Castille, when I promise myself to make known in the fullest manner the infamous action he has committed.

“If he fail to obey this call upon him as a gentleman, and refuse to comply with my challenge, as the only means left me to exterminate this phantom; and I should perceive that he is not hardy enough to meet me in single combat, to prove how I and all my friends do, and ever have served our sovereigns, whilst he and his, on the contrary, are traitors; I hereby do offer (under the pleasure of his catholic majesty, whom God preserve) my town of Saint Lucar de Barameda, the principal seat of the dukes de Medina-Sidonia, to whomsoever shall kill the said John de Braganza: and prostrating myself at the feet of his said majesty, I humbly entreat him not to entrust me with the command of his army on this occasion, which requires a degree of prudence and moderation, that the excess of my wrath would prevent my exercising, but only to permit me to serve in person at the head of a thousand horse, from amongst my proper subjects; so that depending alone on my own courage, I shall not only contribute to the restoration of Portugal, and the punishment of this rebel, but in case he refuse my challenge, I may then be enabled, by the aid of my troops, to throw him dead or alive at the feet of his said majesty: and to omit nothing which may prove my zeal. I also offer one of the finest towns in my domains to the first Portugueze governor or captain who shall surrender a place in Portugal, whether of great or small importance to the service of his catholic majesty; but after doing all I possibly can, I shall never have done enough for his said majesty; since all I possess, I hold from, and owe to him and his glorious ancestors.”—Given at Toledo, this 29th of September, 1641.

The duke de Medina, conformably to his challenge, did not fail to appear on the field of battle. He was armed cap-a-pee, and escorted by don John de Garray, colonel-commandant of the Spanish troops. Parleys were beaten, and defiances published in the usual form; but no one appeared on the part of the king of Portugal. That prince was indeed much too prudent to act a part in so ridiculous a comedy; and even had the affair been of a more serious nature, it would have been highly improper in a sovereign thus to expose his person with a subject of his enemy.

The prime minister, whilst amusing the people with this idle puppet shew, did not neglect turning the whole of his sovereign’s indignation on the marquis d’Aïamonte, and giving him up to the utmost rigour of the law. This nobleman had been put under arrest, and it was requisite to induce him to make a full confession of his guilt; he was therefore flattered with the hope of pardon, and assured that it depended on him alone to experience the same mercy from the best of kings, as had been already shewn to the duke of Medina: but that sovereigns, like the Almighty, whose representatives on earth they were, granted pardon to those only who sincerely repented, and who confessed their guilt.

The marquis, seduced by these promises, and particularly by the acquittal of his accomplice, the duke de Medina, signed every thing which was required of him, and this very confession was brought against him. He was accordingly arraigned, tried, and condemned to lose his head. He listened to this sentence, which was passed upon him in the evening, with the most surprising composure, and without breathing a single complaint against the duke, or the prime minister. He afterwards supped with his usual appetite, and slept so soundly the whole of the night, that his judges were obliged to awaken him to convey him to the place of execution, whither he walked in profound silence, and died with a degree of firmness worthy a better cause. Thus ended a conspiracy, to which the king of Spain must inevitably have fallen a victim, without the intervention of the luckiest chance; or, more properly speaking, without the interference of Providence, which will not always permit such crimes to prosper.

The king of Portugal having failed in this attempt, turned all his thoughts to the support of his crown, not only by open force, but by the assistance of his allies. France afforded him all possible aid, and piqued itself on thus protecting the most ancient branch of its last race of kings. This foreign war was likewise useful in causing a diversion, and giving employment to part of the Spanish forces.

The Portugueze gained several advantages at different times over the Spaniards, and thus prevented them from approaching the frontiers. The king of Portugal might even have penetrated into Castille, had his generals been more able, or his body of regular troops more considerable. The greater part of his army being composed of militia, was much fitter to make incursions than to keep the field: he was frequently destitute even of means to pay his troops, and having abolished most of the taxes on his first accession to the crown, in order to gain the favour of his people; it would have been a dangerous experiment to have re-established them under so new a government. With all these disadvantages, however, he contrived to support the war against Spain, very nearly seventeen years. That country could not boast of greater generals than Portugal; each nation gained more by the weakness of its opponent, than by its own strength; and the exhausted treasury of Philip the IVth, at the latter end of his reign, supplied the place of riches to the new king of Portugal. This prince departed this life on the 6th of November, 1656; and the Portugueze, unable to call forth the attention of posterity to the most striking qualities of their king, confine their praises to his moderation and piety; whilst impartial historians accuse him of want of courage, diffidence of himself, mistrust of others, reserve towards the nobles, who found it difficult to approach his person, whilst he conversed openly and familiarly with his ancient domestics alone, and more especially with the friend and companion of his confessor. The only inference to be drawn from this conduct is, that this prince, naturally peaceable, and given up to his devotions, might be said to possess the good qualities of a private individual, though never the splendid virtues of a great king. His accession to the crown of Portugal must then be solely attributed to the hatred borne by the people of that country to the Spaniards, and to the adroit management of his queen, who made use of this national animosity to raise her to the regal dignity.[24] The king, her husband, in his last will, appointed her regent of the kingdom, rightly judging, that the same conduct and courage which had placed the crown on her head, would not fail to preserve it during the minority of his children. He left behind him two sons and one daughter; the eldest of which, don Alphonso, was nearly thirteen years of age when he succeeded his father. This young prince was of a melancholy disposition, and was deprived of the use of one side: his brother, the infant, don Pedro, was only eight years old; and the infanta, donna Catharine, who was the eldest of the family, was born before the revolution. Don Alphonso being shewn to the people, was proclaimed king, according to the usual forms, and the queen took upon herself, the same day, the regency of the state.

The princess was very ambitious to signalize the commencement of her government by some brilliant action; but her generals could boast more bravery as soldiers, than conduct as captains, and there was not one throughout the whole of Portugal capable of either fortifying a town, or conducting a siege. Neither was her council much better composed; some of her ministers attending more to displaying their eloquence in proving the necessities of the state, than in endeavouring to relieve them; whilst others, without attending to the low state of the army in Portugal, amused themselves by proposing plans of conquests: thus the debates of these supreme councils generally ended in schemes as ill-concerted as unsuccessful.

The considerable losses sustained by the Portugueze at Olivença and Badajos, where they were obliged to raise the siege, may, in a great measure, be attributed to the above causes. They had also embroiled themselves with Holland, on account of the India trade; and France, ever after the peace of the Pyrenees, appeared no longer interested in their favour. The queen, thus deprived of foreign allies, without either disciplined troops or able generals, had no resource left but in the greatness of her courage, which, indeed, supplied to her every other loss. The weight of affairs could not shake her steady soul; the extent of her genius, and the prudence of her conduct were equal to every thing; and the agitated state of the country in the commencement of her regency, served only to display in more striking colours the brilliant qualities of this all-accomplished princess, who began her operations by vesting the authority of the council in her own person: she constantly read all the dispatches; nothing escaped her attention and foresight, and she directed her views to all those European courts from which she could possibly hope for assistance.

Such noble efforts, and constant application, succeeded in putting Portugal in a state of defence against Spain; but being perfectly aware of the necessity there would be in future of employing foreign troops to form her own, and particularly the want she stood in of an able general for that purpose, she cast her eyes on Frederic count de Schomberg, whose valour and capacity were already known and distinguished. The regent was very desirous of appointing him commander in chief of the army, but she was fearful of giving umbrage to the governors of arms, whose pride would not very readily have consented to act under the orders of a foreign chief: she found it, therefore, necessary to employ the count de Soure, her ambassador at the court of France, to treat with the count de Schomberg, and propose his appearing at first in Portugal only as colonel commandant of the army, promising him, however, that in case of the death or resignation of the present governor of arms, he should immediately be appointed commander in chief.

The count set off for Lisbon attended by eighty officers, partly captains, and partly subalterns, together with more than four hundred troopers, all experienced soldiers, capable of forming and commanding new forces. In compliance with secret orders from the regent, the count passed through England, where Charles the IId was newly restored to the crown, and where he was to endeavour to discover whether that protestant prince would object to an alliance with the infanta of Portugal. The count acquitted himself of this commission with great nicety, and succeeded in making both the king, and the lord chancellor Hyde, solicitous for the marriage. The queen was no sooner secure of their approbation, than she dispatched the marquis de Sande to England, to carry on the negociation.

The king of Spain, who trembled at this alliance, used every possible endeavour to prevent its taking place; he did not even scruple offering three millions of French livres to Charles the IId, to induce him to espouse a protestant princess; and his ambassador proposed to him the princesses of Denmark, Saxony and Orange, assuring him that the king his master would adopt as his daughter whichever of these princesses he should honour with his choice, and as such, bestow her on him in marriage. The chancellor Hyde, however, represented in such forcible terms, the great necessity of supporting the family of Braganza on the throne of Portugal, and the danger of that country being united to Spain under the government of one prince, that Charles decided on accepting the hand of the infanta. Thus, we see, a protestant minister, engaging his sovereign to form an alliance with a catholic, whilst a prince of the latter religion, particularly distinguished by the title of catholic king, offered immense sums to induce him to marry a protestant. So true it is, that reasons of state are the basis on which crowned heads form their religion; since princes, in cases of this nature, are usually guided by motives of self-interest alone.

The king of England, through this alliance, contrived to make a treaty of commerce between the States-General and Portugal; and afterwards sent a considerable body of troops, under the command of the earl of Inchinquin, into that kingdom. This nobleman was soon recalled, and the English commanded to act under the orders of the count de Schomberg, who presently after his arrival in Portugal had the troops of three different nations at his command. The Portugueze, indeed, had a separate general of their own country, but this distinction was a vague title, intended only to flatter the ambition of the grandees, since the count enjoyed the unlimited confidence of the queen; who, in fact, gave him absolute power over the army, which he employed in establishing the strictest discipline. He taught the Portugueze the order to be observed on a march; with the art of encamping to the greatest advantage; and erected regular fortifications on most of the frontier posts, which had hitherto been left in an undefended state.

The regent, thus happy in so experienced a general, carried on the war with the greatest vigour. Her arms were almost always successful. Her troops had never before been in so flourishing a state, or so perfectly well disciplined; the poor blessed her government; and the grandees, impressed with sentiments of fear and respect, were all submission to her will; but alas! this happy state of affairs soon underwent a painful alteration, and domestic troubles, joined to different intrigues, gave a new turn to every thing at court; for whilst this great princess was constantly and successfully employed in securing the crown to her son, that prince, by the irregularity of his conduct, was proving himself unworthy of so dignified a situation. His mind was low and sordid, his temper gloomy and savage: he could not support the idea of submitting to the authority of his mother, and contemptuously rejected the advice of his ministers. The society of the noblemen appointed to attend him, was odious to a prince who delighted only in that of negroes and mulattoes, with other young men chosen from the very dregs of the people; and of these wretched beings he had contrived to form a little court, notwithstanding every effort of his governor to prevent it. He termed them his bravoes, and thus escorted, passed the night in ranging through the streets of Lisbon, insulting every one who had the misfortune to meet him.