In the eyes of the racially prejudiced newcomers, the black population garnered significant attention: they were fundamental to the local economy, and thus were incorporated into every aspect of daily life in the colony. At the time slavery was still a powerful institution in both North and South America, still potentially growing as a system and politically sustainable. It was so common, it pervaded every public space, including the printed page, especially in the classified advertisements for sales and rentals. A typical communication in the Gazeta do Rio de Janeiro, of a type found nearly every day, ran thus:
Manoel Fernandes Guimarães, mulatto slave, escaped in 1804, thirty years old, known as Joaquim. Bought in the Captaincy of Espírito Santo by padre Antônio Gomes, can be recognized by the following signs: tailor and barber by trade, of average height, tightly knit hair, thick lips (the upper as thick as two) and pockmarked skin. Anyone with news of him wishing to denounce him should go to the house of Manoel Gomes Fernandes, Rua Direita no 26, where he will receive the reward of 40$000 rs.77 [6/6/1810]78
The enslaved people reacted by planning escapes, rebellions and assassinations – or else fighting back with irony, as in these verses directed against white corruption:
White master steals too
We black men steal chicken
Steal bags of beans
When white master steals
It’s silver and coins
When we black men steal
It’s prison for certain
White master when he steals
Ends up a baron.79
Africans and slaves worked in every kind of activity in Rio de Janeiro. They sold fruits and angu (a dish made of manioc flour boiled with water and salt), made delicacies, carried weight and litters – in the case of the latter, often fitted out in flamboyant livery – ran errands, sold newspapers, caught lice, worked as carpenters, or were hired out. This last constituted the largest group: slaves could be hired out for a day, a week or a month. They provided a variety of services: selling merchandise, carrying water and wood, transporting litters – all activities that were regulated by a code from the Senate.80 The figures show how deeply rooted this type of labour was: in the 1820s the court owned around 38,000 slaves, at a time when the total population of Rio de Janeiro was only 90,000, a figure that did not include the free blacks, who were everywhere present throughout the public spaces of the city.
It was the largest concentration of slaves since ancient Rome, with the difference that, in Rio de Janeiro, their number equalled the number of inhabitants of European descent. In fact the balance tended to tip in favour of the enslaved: with the waves of captives brought in by the traffickers, the city became increasingly African in appearance. Near the Paço the concentration was such that the area became known as Little Africa. And there was no doubt that ‘Rio de Janeiro looked like an African coastal town’,81 with different groups of Africans proudly displaying the distinct scars and markings of their nations on their faces and bodies. Paradoxically, the arrival of the royal family and the opening of the ports, rather than restricting the traffic, increased it.82 The elites became so worried by the sheer number of Africans that policies were implemented ‘to support the white population’. Couples were brought in from the Azores and given a monthly allowance, housing, tools, ox-drawn carts and everything else they required.83
The court also adapted to the city’s routine of festivities, which were equally heterogeneous. There were seven main religious processions that shook up the city annually: St Sebastian, the patron saint of the city, on 28 January, eight days after his name day; St Anthony, on Ash Wednesday; Our Lord of the Via Crucis, on the second Thursday of Lent; the Triumph, on the Friday before Palm Sunday; the Burial on Good Friday; Corpus Christi in June and the Visitation on 2 July.84 On these occasions the court and leading figures joined the parades in embroidered uniforms, accompanied by processions of soldiers, religious banners and singers from the Royal Chapel. There were also firework displays, public auctions, drum beating, fandangos, horse races, the burning of Judas on Holy Saturday, the feast of the Emperor of the Holy Spirit, royal birthdays, church holidays – anything that would interrupt the apparent calm of the city’s routine.
This love of festivities was not a local invention. It was both a Portuguese and an African custom, in their countries of origin, to participate in royal and religious processions. Nevertheless, in this distant American colony, such festivities played an even more strategic and symbolic role. In his public appearances – whether in royal processions or in religious ones – the Prince Regent represented the Portuguese Empire itself, spread throughout the four corners of the globe and now governed from the colony.
Now the celebrations of the monarchy itself were added to the already busy calendar of festivities. On 16 December 1815, on the eve of the commemoration of Queen Dona Maria’s eighty-first birthday, Dom João elevated Brazil to the title of the United Kingdom of Portugal, Brazil and the Southern Territories, transforming the colony into the seat of the Portuguese Empire. The measure was a tribute to the country in which he had lived for seven years. However, it was also motivated by political, economic and diplomatic considerations: it eased trade relations, met British demands, and was clearly aimed at preventing revolutions like those in British America and the neighbouring Spanish colonies. In other words, it was a move meant to protect Brazil from the process of independence, the creation of a republic, and from the ever-present danger of fragmentation.
Even with the decisions of the Congress of Vienna, revolutionary movements were brewing in Europe, revealing a fragile political order. Poland was going through a revolution; Russia was facing reforms; Prussia and Austria were still battling for Germanic hegemony; Sweden and Denmark were at odds over Norway; Belgium and Holland could not manage to remain united and, while Naples had become an experiment in liberalism, Spain was the seat of the extremists.
Europe abounded with instability – and this was grounds enough to dissuade Dom João from leaving the colony. In fact, the elevation of Brazil to a kingdom both defended the country’s territorial integrity and provided a logical response to a series of problems. On the one hand, it was clear that some degree of autonomy was essential, since all negotiations were now conducted from the colony. On the other hand, Portugal’s coalition partners received Dom João’s measure with apprehension. They requested that the Prince Regent, once general peace had been established, restore the status of Portugal and its empire to a greater degree of ‘normality’.
Thus, ruling the empire only looked easy from afar. When Brazil could find the time between festivities, the country was gradually breaking away from the restrictions of its imperial past. And it was no small feat. As a result of the Treaty of 1810, Rio de Janeiro had been transformed into an immense Brazilian trading post with an enormous quantity of products entering and leaving the port: textiles, metals, industrialized foods and even Spanish wine shipped from Britain; luxury items, trinkets, furniture, books, prints, butter, silk, candles and liqueurs from France; beer, glass, linen and gin from Holland; from Austria (including northern Italy and southern Germany), clocks, pianos, linen, silk and velvet fabrics, tools and chemical products; from the other German states, Bohemian glass, toys from Nuremberg, and brass and iron kitchenware; from Russia and Sweden, tools, copper, leather and tar; from the coast of Africa, specifically from Angola and Mozambique, powdered gold, ivory, pepper, ebony, wax (many kilos of which were consumed by the churches), dendê oil, gum arabic and – still, disturbingly – African slaves. Nonetheless, the trade was not one-sided anymore. For one thing, Brazil had begun to replace Lisbon in trade with Portugal’s African colonies; and for another, products from India and China also stopped in Rio de Janeiro from where they were re-exported to Lisbon and other European ports, and to the rest of America. The main exports from the port of Rio de Janeiro included sugar, coffee, cotton and tobacco.85
Furthermore, Dom João’s political situation was soon significantly alter
ed. On 20 March 1816, after many years of mental illness, Dona Maria I died. Every day she had been taken around Rio de Janeiro in her litter, unable to recognize anything. The slaves who carried her had become used to her visions – she frequently insisted on getting out of the vehicle because there was a devil blocking the way.86 Her death was the occasion for a full display of royal mourning.87 The churches were wreathed in purple and decorated with Corinthian capitals, black velvet domes, and gold and silver cordons. A year’s mourning was declared while the country waited impatiently for the acclamation of the king.88
The following year, 1817, brought on another round of mourning. In June, Antônio de Araújo de Azevedo (Count of Barca) – the politician who had so vehemently represented the interests and customs of France in the Portuguese government – also died. French cultural influences had steadily been revived and, since 1814, French fashions were now taking Brazil by storm. In the newspapers French immigrants offered their services as teachers of the language, promising miracles to anyone able to learn the language spoken at the Bourbon court, and French fashion designers dressed the young ladies of the tropical elite as if they resided in a calm, temperate climate. A constant flow of lace, gold and silver embroidery, plumes, fans, perfumes, jewels, hats, silk boots and shoes arrived from Paris. The Royal Press printed academic treatises in French as well as the first French novels to arrive in Portuguese America: Le Diable Boiteux (The Devil on Two Sticks) by Alain-René Lesage, translated in 1809, and Paul et Virginie by Bernardin de Saint Pierre, translated in 1811.89 Nonetheless, it was only in 1815 with Napoleon’s defeat that French literature became the predominant influence in Brazil, from hugely popular novels to the high culture of Voltaire’s epic poem La Henriade and Racine’s Phèdre. The presence of French works in Rio de Janeiro bookshops was radical, and included books on religion, philosophy, arts and sciences, geography and history, as well as novels, dictionaries and joke books.90 As soon as diplomatic relations were re-established between the two countries, French products – elegant, but in some cases of curious usage – began to appear in the shops along the Rua do Ouvidor: wall clocks, crystal chandeliers, mahogany four-poster beds, sewing tables, tea tables, glasses, china, paper, fabrics and Chinese lacquer screens.
This taste for French literature and products increased in part because of yet another initiative during Antônio de Araújo’s time at court. In 1816 he was responsible – if not for the invitation – for the warm welcome and housing of a group of French artists. In 1815 the Marquis of Marialva, who had been appointed as Portugal’s new Trade Secretary to France, supported the idea that a number of famous artists within his circle should emigrate to Brazil. These were artists who had lost their jobs as a result of the fall of Napoleon and were afraid of possible political reprisals. In fact, the idea had come from the artists themselves, led by Joachim Lebreton, who had been Secretary of the Academy of Fine Arts. The government in Rio de Janeiro saw the request as an opportunity to bring artists to the colony and a means of improving its image in Europe; they thus helped to finance the group. The expectations of the French were high. They saw this not only as an opportunity to escape from a continent ruined by war but also to earn good money at the court and in a society where no formal artistic education existed. The undertaking was not without risk, however. The colony was remote and unknown and its ruler had declared war on Napoleon, who had previously been their greatest patron.91
They could not have foretold that Antônio de Araújo de Azevedo, the group’s greatest supporter and its principal Maecenas, was to die soon after their arrival, causing their plans to create an Academy of Fine Arts on the French model to flounder. Without his presence the group faced both an indifferent reception and hostility from Brazilian and Portuguese artists who were furious at being passed over by a group of ‘unemployed Bonapartistes’. There remained, however, plenty of opportunities. With the death of the queen and the preparations for the acclamation of the new sovereign, two events of fundamental importance in a monarchical state, the artists were soon to find employment constructing grandiose stage sets for the immigrant court.
Joachim Lebreton led the French Artistic Mission in Brazil, a group that included the painter Nicolas-Antoine Taunay and his brother, the sculptor Auguste-Marie Taunay, the painter of historical scenes Jean-Baptiste Debret, the architect Grandjean de Montigny and the engraver Simon Pradier. Apart from the wide range of specializations of its members, the group was also distinguished by the high quality of its artistic production.92
The group intended to establish a ‘new artistic culture’ in Brazil, free from the influence of the Church. Although there were plenty of artists and apprentices in the colony, there were no art schools. Since the eighteenth century, Brazilian art had been dominated by the Baroque, as exemplified by the churches in Rio de Janeiro, Recife, Salvador and, above all, Ouro Preto and Sabará. The exception was the mining town of Diamantina in the north of Minas Gerais, where the main example of Rococo architecture in Brazil could be found. Works of art were almost exclusively commissioned by the government or ecclesiastical authorities and had to comply with their requirements. Portugal itself lacked artists. Although there were academies, priority was not given to artistic activities, and there were very few artists who dedicated themselves to painting. This may have been the reason the court made the artists so welcome. They were seen as a kind of European vanguard, or, at the very least, talented and well trained in academic schools. Furthermore, they had been educated in the neoclassical style, which had been used in France to portray the Revolution for posterity.
Now the government of the newly formed kingdom planned to commission works from these artists to consolidate the image of the monarchy. It was a perfect fit. As the royal family was the sole patron of arts in the colony, the French group had no choice but to place themselves under their protection and execute work that they commissioned. The funeral ceremonies for the queen were followed by preparations for the celebrations of the arrival of the future Empress of Brazil, Caroline (‘Maria’) Josepha Leopoldine von Habsburg-Lothringen, in 1817, and the acclamation of Dom João in 1818. The artists also worked on major buildings and monuments, as well as temporary exhibitions for the commemoration of state events.
The first member of the group to receive a commission was the architect Montigny – who was to design the new Fine Arts Academy, a venture that in fact was constantly postponed. The most regular commissions were for work related to the public festivities, which the artists undertook with relative success. On the one hand, they had brought the neoclassical style from Europe, with grandiose works drawn from Antiquity. But on the other hand, despite the government’s intention to recreate the metropolis in the new seat of the empire, it was by no means an easy task for the group to fit its classical forms into the context of a colonial port with a slave-based economy.93 This was in late 1816, when it seemed the group of émigré artists were somewhat unlucky in their endeavours. And there were further difficulties ahead. The two celebrations planned for the beginning of 1817 – the acclamation of Dom João and the commemoration of the arrival of Princess Leopoldina (as she became known), the future wife of his son Dom Pedro – had to be abruptly postponed due to the revolution that broke out in Pernambuco on 6 March the same year. The temporary triumphal arches, the fragile stage sets and mock verandas would have to wait until peace was restored in Portugal’s tropical domain.
AGITATION APPROACHING: MAY THE CORONATION BE DELAYED
If up to that time Dom João had considered his stay in his tropical colony as ideal, from 1817 a new reality was to interrupt his peaceful daily life. In addition to the obstacles caused by the revolutionary movements in Pernambuco, two additional conflicts disrupted the Prince Regent’s foreign policy: the question of Cisplatina and the recurrent issue of abolishing the slave trade.
The transference of the seat of the Portuguese monarchy to Brazil opened another chapter in diplomatic relations. One of Dom João’s first foreign-p
olicy decisions in the colony was the official declaration of war against France. Subsequently, he sent an expedition to occupy Cayenne (present-day French Guiana), as a demonstration of his more offensive new posture. It is not known whether the new behaviour was a result of the royal family’s transference to tropical lands; whether it was a consequence of discovering the movements of Junot’s army; or whether it was part of the alliance with England. Nevertheless, motivated by the now formal belligerency, Dom João’s government obtained a surrender from the French colony on 12 January 1809. The situation was maintained until the Congress of Vienna, when it was determined that Portugal was to return the annexed territory to France. Nonetheless, the restitution only took place two years later, in 1815.
Yet diplomatic problems were not limited to the local sphere. In Europe, Napoleon removed Carlos IV from the Spanish throne and stripped his heir, Fernando VII, of his rights. This led to the upheaval in America that precipitated the separation movements. In Brazil, Fernando VII’s sister, Carlota Joaquina, had her eye on the Spanish colonies on the River Plate, of which she now saw herself as the rightful ruler. But her plans were thwarted because her husband, Dom João, had little reason to trust her. In 1811, when Cisplatina (today’s Uruguay) began the process of independence, Dom João, under the pretext of supporting the province and blocking potential invasion, put the Portuguese troops on alert. Then, on 9 July 1816, when the United Provinces of the Rio de la Plata declared independence, the conflict intensified. These provinces had previously been held by the Spanish Viceroyalty with the capital in Buenos Aires. Once again the Portuguese government intervened: ostensibly to prevent invasions, the non-explicit intention was, however, to annex the so-called Banda Oriental to Brazil. The Banda Oriental was the portion of the Spanish Empire located on the east bank of the Uruguay river (where today Uruguay and Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil’s southernmost state, are located). What was at stake was the control of the estuary, where all the commerce of the extreme south was concentrated. While Dom João was contemplating a sort of internal imperialism in the region under Portuguese control, Carlota Joaquina focused on the rights of the Spanish Crown.
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