Important achievements on various fronts marked his rule, including the hygiene of public finance, the adoption of the metric system, a new constitution, and the Napoleonic Code, which still forms the basis of the judicial systems of France and many other countries to this day. He also began changing the urban landscape of Paris, opening new, wide avenues and inaugurating parks, public squares, and monuments—efforts later continued famously by Georges Haussmann.10 In 1814, exiled to Elba and isolated from the continent by the Mediterranean after the failed invasion of Russia, Napoleon began drawing up plans to improve education, agricultural production, fishing, and living conditions on the island.
At the height of his power, Bonaparte roused fear and admiration as much in his enemies as in his supporters. Lord Wellington, who defeated him definitively at Waterloo in 1815, once said that on the battlefield Napoleon by himself was worth 50,000 soldiers. The writer François René de Chateaubriand, his adversary, described Napoleon as “the mightiest breath of life which ever animated human clay.”
This was the man whom the indecisive and fearful Dom João, prince regent of Portugal, was about to confront in 1807.
III
The Plan
While the imminent invasion of Portugal by Napoleon’s troops forced the prince regent to flee, the plan to move to Brazil was an idea almost as old as the Portuguese Empire itself. Based on sound geopolitical logic, it arose every time Portugal’s neighbors threatened its independence. Despite having launched the Age of Discovery, Portugal still remained a small country with few resources. Squeezed and constantly threatened by the interests of its more powerful neighbors, it had neither the reach nor the army to defend itself in Europe, much less to colonize and protect its overseas territories fully. Brazil offered more natural resources, a larger workforce, and better chances of defense against would-be invaders. “It was a well-ripened proposal, invariably considered throughout all difficult moments,” observes historian Manuel de Oliveira Lima.1
At the beginning of the nineteenth century, Portugal depended completely on Brazil. The gold, tobacco, and sugarcane produced in the colony constituted the axis of its commercial relations. The volume of goods and commodities imported from the colony exceeded the amount exported to it by almost double. The commercial balance therefore tipped more favorably to Brazil at a proportion of two to one.2 Some 61 percent of Portuguese exports to England, its principal commercial partner at the time, originated in Brazil.3 Of the three hundred ships moored each year in Lisbon’s port, one third traded exclusively with Brazil. After observing the vigor of its colonial economy, English traveler Arthur William Costigan wrote that the very existence of the Portuguese as a people “and the immediate support of the throne” depended on Brazil.4
This dependence had grown gradually since Vasco da Gama opened the route to the East Indies and Pedro Álvares Cabral landed his fleet in the Brazilian port of Bahia. At the same time, threats to the wealth and autonomy of the Portuguese throne had increased. In 1580, less than a century after the discovery of Brazil, King Phillip II of Spain assumed the Portuguese throne, left vacant two years earlier after the disappearance of King Sebastião during his crusade against the moors in Morocco. For the following sixty years, Spain governed Portugal during the period known as the Iberian Union. It was during this time that the first documents record the proposal to move the court to the Americas.5
A few decades later, in 1736, the ambassador in Paris, Luiz da Cunha, wrote in a secret memorandum to Dom João V that Portugal was no more than “a finger’s worth of land” where the king “could no longer sleep in peace and security.” Da Cunha suggested moving the court to Brazil, where João V would assume the title of emperor of the Occident and appoint a viceroy to govern Portugal.6 Da Cunha further suggested that the eventual loss of Portugal and the Algarve to Spain could be compensated with the annexation of part of Argentina and Chile to Brazil’s territory.
In 1762, facing another threat of invasion, the marquis of Pombal proposed that King José I take “the necessary measures for his voyage to Brazil.” With Europe occupied by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1801, this age-old plan took on a heightened sense of urgency. That year, Spanish troops aided by France invaded and defeated the country in an episode known as the War of the Oranges. Frightened by the fragility of the kingdom, Dom Pedro de Almeida Portugal, marquis of Alorna, wrote the following recommendation to Prince Regent Dom João: “Your Royal Highness has a grand empire in Brazil. . . . It is necessary to order with urgency that all of your warships are armed and that all of your transport ships find their way to the Port of Lisbon, where you board the ships with the Princess, your children, and all of your treasures.”7 Two years later, in 1803, the head of the Royal Treasury, Dom Rodrigo de Sousa Coutinho, completed an account of the political situation in Europe. In his evaluation, the future of the Portuguese monarchy lay in danger, and it would prove impossible to maintain the politics of neutrality between England and France for much longer. The solution? Sail for Brazil.
“Portugal is neither the best part of the monarchy, nor the most essential,” wrote Dom Rodrigo. “After the devastation of a long and barbarous war, the remains of the Sovereignty and its people will create a powerful empire in Brazil.” The new empire in the Americas could serve as the basis from which Dom João could later recover “all that he had lost in Europe” and still punish “the cruel enemy.” According to Dom Rodrigo, “whatever the dangers might be that accompany such a noble and resolute determination, they are much smaller than those that would certainly follow from the entrance of the French in the ports of the Kingdom.”8 Dom Rodrigo’s proposal was rejected in 1803, but four years later, with Napoleon’s troops at the border, this extraordinary plan of relocation went into action.
The prior existence of so many plans with so much history behind them explains why the relocation of the court to Brazil succeeded in 1807. It was indeed a flight but it was neither rushed nor improvised. The decision already had been made and analyzed by various kings, ministers, and advisors over the course of three centuries. “There would be no other way to explain how a classical country of improvidence and languor, shortly after the announcement of French troops within the national borders, could manage to embark an entire court, with all of its furniture, tableware, paintings, books, and jewels,” observes de Oliveira Lima.9
But the months preceding the departure were tense and unsettling. In 1807, two groups attempted to influence the actions of the ever indecisive prince regent. The “French party,” led by the minister of external relations, Antonio de Araújo e Azevedo, favored joining with Napoleon and his Spanish allies. The “English party,” which ultimately triumphed, had Dom Rodrigo as its principal advocate. The godson of the marquis of Pombal and minister of marine commerce and overseas territories, Dom Rodrigo had a long-term vision. He had ambitious plans for Brazil and believed that the future survival of the Portuguese monarchy depended on its New World colony. In 1790, as the minister of foreign affairs, he approached the Brazilian elite and sponsored trips for Brazilian students to the University of Coimbra in Portugal, then the main academic center of the Portuguese Empire. (Among these students was José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva, the future patriarch of the Brazilian Independence movement.)
On August 19, 1807, the Council of State met at the Palace of Mafra to discuss the political crisis. The nine closest counselors to the prince regent, including his master of wardrobe and private doctor, the council constituted the most important body of advisers to the monarchy, responsible for proposing large-scale governing measures in times of war and peace.10 Dom João read out the terms of Bonaparte’s intimidation: Portugal had to adhere to the Continental Blockade, declare war on Britain, withdraw their ambassador—Dom Domingos de Sousa Coutinho, Dom Rodrigo’s brother—from London, expel the British ambassador from Lisbon, and close the ports of Portugal to British ships. They also had to imprison any English citizens inside Portugal and
confiscate their property. The terrified council immediately approved Napoleon’s conditions with two reservations: They wouldn’t imprison English citizens nor confiscate their property. On August 26, a second meeting took place at the Palace of Mafra, during which the terms of the response to Napoleon were approved and the correspondence immediately sent to Paris.11
This was all, however, a clever ruse and a dangerous game in which Portugal was bluffing both France and Britain at the same time. While pretending to accept France’s ultimatum, they negotiated a different solution to the impasse with Britain. “In the war between France and Britain, Portugal played the role of a clam caught in the battle of the tide and rocks,” writes historian Tobias Monteiro.12 Shortly after the meeting, Britain’s representative in Lisbon, Percy Smythe, Viscount Strangford, wrote to his minister of foreign affairs, George Canning, offering a version of events quite different from the letter to Napoleon. According to Strangford, Portugal was trying to buy time with an “ostensible approach of hostility.” War with Britain would be officially declared but only as a decoy. In the meantime, the Portuguese government requested that the British neither invade their colonies nor attack their merchant ships.
Squeezed between two powerful rivals, Portugal nonetheless had in its favor the precariousness of communication and transportation. In 1807, the delivery of a letter from Lisbon to Paris took close to two weeks. The post traveled along roads pockmarked by holes and practically impassable during rainy weather. A round trip took a month, sometimes more. From Lisbon to London by sea took at least seven days.13 This sluggishness allowed Portugal to buy time while they attempted an escape both honorable and acceptable to its fragile kingdom. Upon receiving the terms of the Portuguese counterproposal, Napoleon reacted as predicted; he sent warning that, if Dom João did not comply, Portugal would be invaded and the Bragança dynasty would be dethroned.
On September 30, gathered at the Palace of Ajuda in Lisbon, the Council of State finally recommended that the prince regent prepare his ships for departure.14 At the beginning, it was thought that only the prince of Beira, the oldest son of Dom João, should go to Brazil. Young Dom Pedro—just eight years old but destined to become emperor of Brazil—was the natural heir to the Portuguese throne. On October 2, 1807, Dom João issued a proclamation to the Brazilian people, requesting that they receive and defend the young prince.15 The plan rapidly evolved, however, into something more ambitious: transferring the whole of the court with its rulers, functionaries, and state apparatus—the entire Portuguese elite.
By the middle of October, the definitive decision to transfer the court to Brazil began in earnest. Through the mediation of his ambassador in London, Dom João signed a secret agreement with Britain through which, in exchange for naval protection during the voyage to Rio de Janeiro, he would open the ports of Brazil to commerce with other nations. Up until that point, only Portuguese ships had authorization to buy or sell goods in the colony.
But while the ink of his secret agreement with allied England was drying, Dom João persisted in his game of make-believe with the French. On the eve of his departure, he announced the prohibition on British ships entering Portuguese ports and the imprisonment and the confiscation of property of all British residents in Lisbon. At the same time, he sent an ambassador to Paris, the marquis of Marialva, who swore total surrender to the French. To mollify Napoleon, the diplomat brought a box full of diamonds as a gift. He also suggested that Dom Pedro, the oldest son of Dom João, marry a princess from Bonaparte’s family. Though Marialva was held prisoner, his actions singularly allowed Dom João to deceive Napoleon, who believed on the eve of Dom João’s departure that Portugal had surrendered to his orders.
On November 1, the post from Paris arrived in Lisbon with another frightening message from Napoleon: “If Portugal does not do what I want, the House of Bragança will no longer have a throne in Europe within two months.” At that moment, the French army was already crossing the Pyrenees and heading toward Portugal. On November 5, the Portuguese government finally ordered the imprisonment of Englishmen residing in Lisbon and the confiscation of their property. Faithful to their double-crossing, they had warned Lord Strangford to protect himself. As part of the ruse, even the count of Barca, leader of the French Party in the Portuguese court, proposed the confiscation of British goods in Portugal, but behind closed doors he had negotiated with the British the reparations for eventual victims of this measure.16
On November 6, the British fleet appeared at the mouth of the Tagus River, some seven thousand men strong. Their commander, Admiral Sir Sidney Smith—the same official who had bombarded Copenhagen two months earlier—had two seemingly contradictory orders. The first, and his priority, was to protect the royal family as they boarded the ships and to escort them all the way to Brazil. The second, in case the first did not succeed, was to bombard Lisbon.
It was a game of marked cards, in which no party had any illusion about the outcome. Convinced that Portugal had aligned with Britain, the governments of Spain and France had divided Portuguese territory among themselves already. The Treaty of Fontainebleau, signed by the two sides on October 27, 1807, split the tiny nation into three parts. The Northern region, consisting of the provinces of Entre-Douro and Minho, called the kingdom of Northern Lusitania, would go to the reigning queen of Etruria, Maria Luisa of Spain. Next, Alentejo and Algarve, in the Southern region, would pass to Don Manoel de Godoy, the most powerful minister of Spain, also known as the prince of peace. Finally, France would take over the central and richest part of the country, composed of the regions of Beira, Trás-os-Montes, and Estremadura.17 To the great humiliation of the Portuguese, this piece of land was offered to Napoleon’s youngest brother, Lucien, who turned it down. “At a time in which the most voracious of rulers went unchecked . . . nobody wanted little Portugal,” writes de Oliveira Lima. “Above all, not without that which constituted its importance . . . its colonial empire.”18
Some 50,000 French and Spanish soldiers invaded Portugal.19 If he had wanted, Dom João could have resisted and with a good chance of winning. The soldiers whom Napoleon sent were mostly rookies and members of the foreign legion who had no interest in defending the ambitions of the French emperor.20 Their commander, General Jean-Andoche Junot, was a second-rate official: a brave combatant but a terrible strategist. Due to lack of planning and the last-minute nature of the invasion, the troops arrived at the border famished and in tatters. Half of the horses had died along the way. Only six cannons arrived. Of the 25,000 soldiers who left France, 700 of them had already died before entering combat.21 A quarter of the infantry had disappeared because, in the despair of searching for food, the soldiers had become separated from the main column and gotten lost.22
The French enter Lisbon: famished soldiers in tatters, whom Prince João could have defeated with British help—if only he had the courage.
Engraving by Louis Gudin, 1820
In her memoirs, the duchess of Abrantes, wife of General Junot, said that her husband entered Portugal “more as a fugitive than as an emissary who was sent to announce overtaking the country.”23 On arrival at the port of Lisbon, the soldiers were so weak they could barely stand. Many forced the Portuguese to carry their weapons for them. “We were in a situation that was hard to believe,” wrote Baron Paul Thiebault, who participated in the invasion as Junot’s division general. “Our uniforms had lost their form and color. My toes poked out of my boots.”24
“Without cavalry, artillery, cartridges, shoes or food, stumbling with fatigue, the troop resembled ‘the evacuation of a hospital more than an army triumphantly marching to the conquest of a kingdom,’” notes English historian Alan Manchester, describing the invasion of Portugal.25 “There is certainly no example in history of a kingdom conquered in so few days and with such small trouble as was Portugal in 1807,” says Sir Charles Oman, author of A History of the Peninsular War, the most important work written about Napoleon�
�s campaign in the Iberian peninsula. “That a nation of three million souls, which in earlier days had repeatedly defended itself with success against numbers far greater than those now employed against it, should yield without firing a single shot was astonishing. It is a testimony not only to the timidity of the Portuguese Government, but to the numbing power of Napoleon’s name.”26
IV
The Declining Empire
It seemed that human imagination had no limits in 1807. In England, steam propelled an empire. This new technology, invented by James Watt in 1769, gave birth to the mechanical loom, the driving force of the Industrial Revolution, to the locomotive, to the steam ship, and to the steam-powered printing press, among other mechanical novelties.
Throughout Europe, salons, cafés, theaters, museums, and galleries incubated innovative ideas and creations that definitively marked the history of culture and arts. In Germany, writer and poet Johann von Goethe finished the first part of Faust, his masterpiece. In Vienna, Ludwig van Beethoven composed his Fifth Symphony. The American Revolution of 1776 echoed across the globe, and the French Revolution of 1789 had redrawn the map of Europe.
Few periods in history brimmed with so many adventures, inventions, and conquests—including political convulsions and ruptures—but curiously none of this seemed to affect the Portuguese. Three centuries after inaugurating the great era of navigation and discovery, Portugal lay far from even remembering the vibrant times of Vasco de Gama and Pedro Álvares Cabral. The signs of decline appeared everywhere. Lisbon, the capital of the empire, had long fallen behind its European neighbors as a radiating center of ideas and innovation. The call to enterprise, of curiosity, of the search for the unknown somehow had slipped away from the Portuguese spirit. The age of glory had passed.
1808: The Flight of the Emperor Page 3