Citizen Emperor: Pedro II and the Making of Brazil, 1825-1891 9781503617940

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        , ‒





CITIZEN EMPEROR

PEDRO II AND THE MAKING OF BRAZIL,

1825-91

RODERICK J. BARMAN

STANFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS STANFORD, CALIFORNIA

Stanford University Press Stanford, California ©  by the Board of Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University Printed in the United States of America  data appear at the end of the book

To D. Pedro Gastão de Orléans e Bragança great-grandson of the Citizen Emperor & great-great-grandson of the Citizen King

   ,  ,   Preface



  Born to Rule, –    No Safety Here, –



  Savior of His Country, –   Taking Charge, –





  The Daily Round, –



  The Usages of Power, –



  Triumphs of the Will, –



  Heirs and Enemies, –   Letting Go, –



  Overtaken by Time, –   The Hand of Fate, –   To Die in Exile, –  The Voice of History    



  



 



    

x

What then is the citizen-king? The term describes Louis-Philippe. . . . If that is what is meant by a citizen-king, we call that a strong king. That is what we want, what all Brazilians want: a strong monarch who curbs the ambitions of the discontented and suppresses the fanaticism of the masses, an able monarch who reconciles liberty with order, with internal peace, with the development of the country, with its artistic and literary glory. —O Cronista, June , .

What sort of fear could I have? That they take the government from me? Many better kings than I have lost it, and to me it is no more than the weight of a cross which it is my duty to carry. I want to serve my country, but who knows if I could not serve it better in some other capacity? In any case, I will never cease to fulfill my duties as a Brazilian citizen. —Pedro II’s diary entry, October , .

Upon the king!—let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, lay on the king! We must bear all. . . . What infinite heart’s-ease must kings neglect, That private men enjoy! And what have kings, that privates have not too, Save ceremony,—save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? . . . Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men? —Henry V, Act , Scene .

During what is now a long life, I have applied all my forces and all my devotion to assuring the progress and the prosperity of my people: it seems that I have not succeeded! . . . Because I have never loved power through personal ambition, I have never had any desire other than to promote the well-being of my country, and I have never wished to be anything other than pastor populi [shepherd of the people]. —Pedro II in Le Figaro, November , .

   

Map . Brazil in the th Century Map . Brazil in  

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Map . Paraguayan War—The Paraguayan offensives, – Map . Paraguayan War—The course of the war, –





  Table . The Ancestry of Pedro II



Table . Selected descendants of Pedro I, emperor of Brazil



Table . Selected descendants of Ferdinand IV, king of Naples



Table . Selected descendants of Louis-Philippe, King of the French



Table . The principal branches of the House of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha



 Frontispiece. Pedro II in the first half of the s

ii

Figure . Pedro II’s mother, Empress Leopoldina



Figure . Pedro II’s father, Emperor Pedro I, in 



Figure . The Paço da Cidade (city palace) at the time of Independence Figure . Pedro II’s eldest sister, Queen Maria II of Portugal Figure . Pedro II at the age of four







Figure . Pedro II’s stepmother, D. Amélia of Leuchtenberg



Figure . José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva, Pedro II’s guardian, –



Figure . Pedro II at the age of six, wearing the farda imperial (court dress) Figure . Paulo Barbosa da Silva, mordomo of the imperial court, – Figure . Pedro II with his sisters D. Francisca and D. Januária in  Figure . Pedro II at about the age of eleven or twelve





Figure . Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho, viscount of Sepetiba Figure . Official portrait of Princess Teresa Cristina of Naples Figure . Honório Hermeto Carneiro Leão, marquis of Paraná 





Figure . Pedro II and D. Teresa Cristina at the time of their wedding Figure . Pedro II at about twenty-one or twenty-two

 





   Figure . The imperial palace at Petrópolis



Figure . São Cristóvão Palace in the mid-nineteenth century



Figure . D. Teresa Cristina in court dress, at about the age of thirty Figure . Pedro II at the age of twenty-four Figure . Pedro II in 







Figure . View of Pedro II’s study at São Cristóvão Palace Figure . D. Isabel and D. Leopoldina in about 





Figure . Pedro II, with D. Teresa Cristina, teaching their daughters in  Figure . Luísa Margarida Portugal de Barros, countess of Barral



Figure . Maria Eugênia Lopes de Paiva, Sra. Guedes, and later Sra. Jones Figure . D. Isabel and her husband, Gaston d’Orléans, count d’Eu





Figure . Pencil sketch made by Pedro II while conducting business Figure . Teófilo Benedito Ottoni





Figure . D. Leopoldina and her husband, August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha Figure . Luís Alves de Lima, duke of Caxias







Figure . Statue of Pedro I, inaugurated in April  Figure . Pedro II in the early s





Figure . Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos



Figure . Pedro II in the uniform of a Voluntário da Pátria Figure . Gaston, count d’Eu, in uniform





Figure . Pedro de Araújo Lima, marquis of Olinda



Figure . Gaston, count d’Eu, commander-in-chief of the Brazilian forces in Paraguay, with his staff  Figure . D. Isabel at about the time of her first regency, – Figure . Pedro II at the pyramids in Egypt in November  Figure . Cristiano Benedito Ottoni

 



Figure . José Maria da Silva Paranhos, viscount of Rio Branco Figure . D. Vital Maria Gonçalves de Oliveira, bishop of Olinda Figure . João Maurício Wanderley, baron of Cotegipe

 



Figure . D. Isabel with her first child, Pedro, prince of Grão Pará Figure . Pedro II photographed in New York, 



Figure . Luís Pedreira do Couto Ferraz, viscount of Bom Retiro Figure . D. Teresa Cristina photographed at Coburg in  or  Figure . José Antônio Saraiva



Figure . Pedro II in the late s or early s





 

   Figure . João Lustosa da Cunha Paranaguá, marquis of Paranaguá Figure . Caricature of Pedro II in a popular review early in  Figure . D. Isabel at the time of her third regency, – Figure . Pedro II’s oldest grandson, Pedro Augusto





Figure . Pedro II, returning from Europe in August  Figure . Pedro II and his family at Petrópolis in 

 





Figure . Afonso Celso de Assis Figueiredo, viscount of Ouro Preto Figure . Manuel Deodoro da Fonseca, founder of the republic Figure . Pedro II, D. Isabel, and her eldest son, Pedro, April 



 

Figure . Tombs of Pedro II, D. Teresa Cristina, D. Isabel, and Gaston, count d’Eu in the cathedral at Petrópolis 

Preface



I

In the history of Latin America since independence, no person has held power so firmly and for so long as did Pedro II of Brazil. The only comparable figure is Fidel Castro, who came to power in Cuba after the  revolution. Through their personalities and their systems of governing, both rulers have shaped to a considerable degree the character and public culture of their nation-states. Given the condition of Brazil in , when Pedro II began to rule, his achievements and his long-term influence were of surpassing importance. As a ruler, Pedro II stands out. When he took power, Brazil had been politically independent for less than twenty years and a single, unified state for under a quarter of a century. The Empire established in  had forced into the confines of a nation-state nineteen provinces previously linked only by language and autocratic rule. The country was immense in size, fragmented into disparate parts that were connected only by sea routes. No national economy existed, the level of economic activity was nowhere high, and wealth was concentrated in the hands of a few. Brazil’s population was (for its size) small, racially diverse, burdened with slavery, and overwhelmingly illiterate. These conditions meant that the central government possessed few resources, limited administrative capacity, and a restricted field for action. By the end of the s, the structures of rule were being contested and the self-confidence of ruling groups faltering. Brazilians turned to the young Pedro II, hoping that he would endow the government with legitimate authority and act as the arbiter and rule-keeper of the political system. The task of transforming Brazil into a functioning nation-state fell to a boy aged fourteen. Pedro II devoted himself during the next half century to meeting

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 this formidable challenge. “During what is now a long life,” he reflected in November , “I have applied all my forces and all my devotion to assuring the progress and the prosperity of my people.”1 Resourceful, patient, and above all persevering, he eschewed bold initiatives and avoided confrontations. The emperor first established an undisputed dominance over public affairs, his integrity and his impartiality being respected by all. Even more important, the public persona he developed embodied the values which the ruling elements in Brazil wished for their country. He was at once the model emperor and the model citizen. He literally and metaphorically towered above his fellow Brazilians. Pedro II’s achievements at home and the high reputation he established abroad convinced Brazilians that the goals he advocated would create a country as powerful and as civilized as France, Great Britain, or the United States. At the start of his reign, Pedro II served principally as an authority figure who brought stability and certainty to the political scene. The provisions of the Brazilian constitution gave him greater prerogatives than those held by many presidents at that time. Among other powers, the emperor held the unfettered right to name ministers, to appoint senators, and to dissolve the lower house of the legislature. That Pedro II used his powers with caution, keeping within the framework of the constitution and with an eye to public opinion (as he interpreted it), did not in any way diminish his control of the political system or of the country. He held the initiative in public affairs, and he proved adept at seizing or creating opportunities for achieving the goals he favored. The ruling groups in Brazil had to defer to the emperor, both in settling policy matters and in sharing out the spoils of power. As Pedro II reached adulthood, he developed the arts of managing both politics and government, which ensured internal peace and kept the competing political interests content. Pedro II’s capacity for management played an essential role in the consolidation of a national political community possessing clear avenues of advancement, agreed methods of negotiation, and known boundaries of acceptable action. The political community included only a small portion of the Brazilian population, but that portion both accepted and depended upon the country’s continuation as a single, unified nation-state. So successful was Pedro II that, by the s, the ruling circles took Brazil’s existence as a nation-state for granted and no longer considered him to be essential as the organizer and manager of the system. Pedro II had made himself redundant as emperor. Pedro II’s status as his country’s first citizen was equally indispensable in establishing the viability of Brazil as a nation-state. By virtue of his personal character, behavior, and interests, the emperor created a model of citizenship which commanded both respect abroad and acceptance at home. As a leading

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 Brazilian intellectual pointed out in , the emperor had been the “representative, for more than half a century, of Brazil to the civilized nations as the personification of the highest human values and of the national dignity and honor.”2 So potent was the model of citizenship established by Pedro II that, by the s, the rising generation had internalized it and greatly resembled him in their outlook, culture, and expectations, even though they had come to view him as being personally old-fashioned and irrelevant to the country’s needs. The political and the personal intertwined to make Pedro II what he was. Many facets of his character were inherited—his great energy and his love of books and learning, for example—but his personality was also shaped by his privileged position, by his painful experiences in childhood and adolescence, and by his convoluted relationships with his family (parents, siblings, spouse, and children) and with his entourage, the imperial court. If the emperor ever strove to be a citizen, the citizen never ceased to be an emperor. Pedro II never asked himself whether Brazilians wanted him to be their first citizen, or whether they desired the progress and prosperity he chose for them. A close associate of the emperor commented that Pedro II “really was good and superior to petty feelings but . . . , despite everything, he always had the odor of a king. He thought that he was made of a different metal and superior to other people.”3 Pedro II’s system of rule flowed from the qualities of his character. His position and his experiences made him remarkably self-centered, with a distrust of intimacy that left him emotionally deprived. If his mind were made up on a subject, it was virtually impossible to change it or, indeed, to make him do anything that he did not want to do. “Who is the man in the entire world who can persuade the emperor to do something against his will?” a courtier asked in exasperation in May . “Without hesitation, I reply—No one.”4 Pedro II worked very much alone. His principal advisers were never human beings but rather the printed page, primarily the French monographs and reviews which for him exemplified the “civilization” he sought for Brazil. He was not innovative in his ideas or his aspirations. His vision for his country and the measures he favored to achieve that vision reflected the ideals and the ways of thinking he had absorbed during his early years. His understanding of the proper goal for Brazil was that it should emulate contemporary Europe in culture and politics. Awareness of Brazil’s fragility as a nation-state reinforced Pedro II’s natural caution. He preferred to achieve his goals slowly and by indirection. A man of monumental restraint and iron self-discipline, Pedro II took care in speech and writing to reveal little of his inner self. Deciphering the emperor’s personality presents a challenging task. These defenses once penetrated, we encounter a complex personality who simultaneously compels sympathy, exasperation, and respect. Pedro II’s principal achievements—the fostering of a political culture and the

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 inculcation of an ideal of citizenship—not only survived his overthrow as emperor in  but also endured as the norms and directives of public life during three succeeding regimes—the Old Republic (–), the Vargas Era (–), the Liberal Republic (–). Even the military regime which seized power in  was deeply influenced by the vision of Brazil as a nation-state established by Pedro II. Only in the s would this vision begin to be supplanted. I did not intend to write a biography of Pedro II. Thirty-five years of researching the politics and society of nineteenth-century Brazil have led me reluctantly but inexorably back to Pedro II as the key to understanding Brazil’s development as a nation-state. Born and brought up in Great Britain, resident for some time in the United States as well as in Brazil, and now living in a country of the Americas which acknowledges Queen Elizabeth II as its head of state, I perceive no innate advantage, no superior virtue, in either the monarchical or the republican form of government. Both republics and monarchies can function effectively. Neither form is exempt by its intrinsic nature from the weaknesses and defects that trouble all governments. As a ruler Pedro II is entitled to no less and no more sympathy than a president of a republic deserves. The language of Brazil during Pedro II’s life was Portuguese. There existed at that time no single system of spelling and accents, and consequently usage varied widely. In  a joint commission created by the Portuguese and Brazilian governments promulgated a standard system of spelling and accents. This new system is, with minor changes, still in use. Portuguese words appearing in the text conform to that system. Portuguese words in the footnotes and works cited conform to the spelling used in the actual source. The same Portuguese word can therefore appear in two or even three different forms. In Brazil personal names do not follow any regular system. Individuals are commonly known by only some of their several first and surnames. This practice is observed in the text. The index contains both the short and full names of individuals. During the nineteenth century, the unit of currency in Brazil was the milréis, being one thousand réis and written as $. A thousand milréis (1:$) was known as a conto de réis. The milréis was usually quoted against the pound sterling (£), its par value during Pedro II’s reign being set at twenty-seven pence, or . percent of one pound sterling, which contained  pence. The actual value of the milréis fluctuated considerably due to variations in Brazil’s external balance of trade and internal economic conditions. Inflation caused a substantial rise in the cost of living during Pedro II’s reign. For all these reasons, the U.S. dollar equivalents given in the text for sums originally in milréis can be no more than approximations. In making the conversion from milréis to U.S. dollars, the average annual value has been used.5 I would like to acknowledge with gratitude the generous support that the Canada Council and its successor, the Social Science and Humanities Research

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 Council of Canada, have over the years provided for both my research and my writing. The SSHRC financed essential research for this book in Brazil, Lisbon, and Windsor. Count Enrico “Harry” Dobrzensky de Dobrzenicz greatly assisted my task by offering, when we met by chance at a party in Vancouver, to introduce me to his uncle D. Pedro de Orléans e Bragança, and I am most grateful to him. At Petrópolis, D. Pedro with exemplary generosity gave me unrestricted access to the Arquivo Grão Pará, the depository of the personal papers of his great-grandfather Pedro II and of his grandparents D. Isabel and the count d’Eu. I am deeply in his debt. In Rio de Janeiro and Petrópolis, José Gabriel da Costa Pinto shared with me, as he has done during thirty years, his knowledge of the history and the archives of imperial Brazil. At the Biblioteca Nacional, Sr. Waldir da Cunha allowed me open access to the Tobias Monteiro papers. I must also acknowledge with thanks the able advice of D. Maria Judith Peixoto, the cultural assistant at the Canadian Consulate-General in Lisbon. By gracious permission of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, I was able to consult documents relating to D. Pedro II and D. Teresa Cristina in the Royal Archives at Windsor, where Miss Pamela Clark, the deputy registrar, was most helpful. The illustrations, which are an essential tool for understanding Pedro II and his times, were mainly acquired thanks to the generous cooperation of three institutions in Rio de Janeiro. I am indebted to Jaime Antunes da Silva, diretor geral of the Arquivo Nacional; his assistant, D. Marilda Dias Alves; D. Maria Isabel Falcão, coordinator of access to information; and her assistant, D. Nilda Sampaio, coordinator of audiovisual and cartographic materials. At the Biblioteca Nacional, I must thank Joaquim Marçal Ferreira de Andrade, head of the Iconographic Division, and his assistant, D. Francisca Helena Martins Araújo. In the Museu Nacional Histórico, I was immensely assisted by D. Denise Portugal, head of the Arquivo Histórico. I want to offer warm thanks to Dr. Maurice Williams who acquired for me two invaluable illustrations from the Kunsthistoriches Museum, Vienna. The permission given by the four institutions to reproduce illustrations from their holdings is gratefully acknowledged. Several individuals have most kindly given me assistance on specific points. Dr. Jacqueline Goggin supplied me with her unpublished paper on the character and career of Mary Wilhelmine Williams, the first English-language biographer of Pedro II. Dr. Thomas Whigham, who is writing a new study of the Paraguayan War, has shared ideas and materials with me. Dr. Dain Borges provided me with materials from his data bank on Bahian families. Ms. Rosa Stenberg helped me both by hunting down the descendants of Anna von Baligand in Germany and by translating materials from the German originals. Dr. Dominique Bajard and Dr. Bradley Fritz have elucidated for me the evidence on Pedro II’s medical history. Dr. Pierre-Henri Laurent of Tufts University lent me his copy of a study of the Belgium monarchy which was not otherwise available in North

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 America. Finally, the Inter-Library Loan service at the University of British Columbia patiently and skillfully fulfilled my requests. Some of the themes and conclusions expressed in this work were first tried out in papers given at the Rocky Mountain Conference on Latin American Studies held in Vancouver, and at the Brazilian Studies seminar of the University of Toronto. I wish to thank Dr. David Higgs for inviting me to make a presentation to the seminar. The outside reader’s report commissioned by Stanford University Press led to considerable improvements in the original manuscript, and I thank the reader. Mrs. Janet Ladner gave the final text the benefit of a meticulous reading, for which I am most grateful. The views expressed in this book are naturally entirely my own; they are not, and should not be imputed to be, those of any other person or institution. Gary McManus provided the maps. Last but not least, thank you, Jean, for being my coresearcher (and organizer) during our happy and rewarding time working in Rio de Janeiro, Petrópolis, and Lisbon, and for critiquing with your accustomed skill the manuscript as it evolved. R.J.B.

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Brazil.: 19th century boundanes (approximate) -··-··- National •••••••••••· Provincial

Atlantic Ocean

Map . Brazil in the nineteenth century

 

Born to Rule, 1825–31

 The birth of a baby boy at Rio de Janeiro in the early hours of December , —the son and heir of the emperor Pedro I of Brazil and his empress, D. Leopoldina1—was celebrated with all the ceremonial pomp warranted by his exalted ancestry.2 His grandfathers were the king of Portugal and the emperor of Austria, his grandmothers daughters of the kings of Spain and Naples. His cousins included the monarchs of Great Britain, France, Bavaria, and Sardinia. The infant prince was, in truth, related by blood to virtually all the reigning houses of Europe. Among his ancestors he could count, to name but two, Louis XIV of France and Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire. If any individual was born into the purple, it was, to cite all the names bestowed on him at his baptism on December , , Dom Pedro de Alcântara João Carlos Leopoldo Salvador Bibiano Francisco Xavier de Paula Leocádio Miguel Gabriel Rafael Gonzaga de Bragança e Borbon. The newborn prince’s illustrious ancestry did not mean, however, that his status as Príncipe Imperial was either widely acknowledged or indisputably secure. The Empire of Brazil was a newly made and fairly gimcrack entity. It had been created in , when Portugal’s colonies in America had rejected continued rule from Lisbon. Three years later the fledgling nation-state was still struggling to achieve internal cohesion and stability and to secure international recognition. A serious rebellion against centralized rule from Rio de Janeiro had engulfed the northeastern provinces in the middle of , and it had been put down with much bloodshed. Another revolt, which had broken out in the far south in April , was proving difficult to suppress. As the sole monarchy in the New World, Brazil was regarded with suspicion by most of the American

T

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  , ‒ republics. The Empire was equally disliked by most of the sovereigns of Europe. They not only deplored Pedro I’s having led a rebellion against his own father, the king of Portugal, but were also offended by his promulgation in March  of a constitution for the new nation. The British government was an exception: commercial needs made it desire the consolidation of the Empire. Through intense diplomatic pressure, the British had in August  forced the Portuguese monarch to sign a treaty of recognition and reconciliation with Brazil. Three weeks before the prince’s birth, his grandfather João VI had ratified the treaty at Lisbon and thus opened the way for international recognition of Pedro I as emperor of Brazil.3 The new Empire was a political hybrid, at once a traditional monarchy deriving its authority from God and a nation-state shaped by the doctrines of the American and French revolutions. The need to reconcile these two contrasting political traditions was but one of the formidable tasks facing the baby’s father, as head of the imperial regime. Brazil rivaled Russia in size. It sprawled across eastern South America, stretching from north of the Amazon River to the banks of the Rio de la Plata. Lands so vast and so fragmented could not easily be ruled from a single center. The Empire possessed some three and a half million inhabitants, most of them living along the Atlantic coast. The population was diverse in the extreme, drawn from Portuguese, Amerindian, and African stock, the last predominating. No less than a third of the inhabitants were black slaves whose labor made possible the growing of sugar, cotton, and coffee, and the mining of gold. The profits from these products went principally to a small circle of landowners and administrators who controlled local affairs through town councils. As a society Brazil lacked a system of education, a transportation network, and a coherent apparatus of administration. Printing had been prohibited prior to , and a free press did not appear until .4 This conglomeration of peoples and territories had been assembled by the Portuguese through a slow process of conquest and settlement over the course of three centuries. Until the beginning of the nineteenth century the only factors uniting Portugal’s nineteen separate colonies in South America were allegiance to the Portuguese monarch, governance from Lisbon, and the Portuguese language and culture. It was events in Europe that brought the diverse colonies of the Portuguese New World together as a single state. In November  the armies of Napoleon I had invaded Portugal. Unable to resist and unwilling to submit, the government opted for flight. The royal family, many courtiers, and most of the government bureaucracy embarked on ships anchored in Lisbon harbor. After a storm-racked voyage across the Atlantic, the fleet reached Rio de Janeiro in March .5

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  , ‒ During the next thirteen years, Rio de Janeiro served as the capital of the Portuguese dominion. More importantly, it became the administrative and commercial center of the Portuguese New World. When Napoleon was defeated in , the royal government decided not to return to Lisbon. In recognition of this new reality and as a means of enhancing its own status in world affairs, the government at Rio raised its American possessions (formerly colonies, now provinces) to the status of the kingdom of Brazil, equal and united to that of Portugal. The decree of December , , creating the kingdom of Brazil and uniting it with Portugal, was little more than a paper measure. It did not change the existing system of administration, either across the Portuguese dominion or within the new kingdom. The new order was not universally welcomed. In  a revolt in the provinces of northeast Brazil sought to repudiate both the monarchy and rule from Rio de Janeiro. This rebellion was easily suppressed.6 Three years later, in , a rising by the army in Portugal itself had a very different outcome. The Portuguese wished to make the king, João VI, return to Lisbon and end the oppressive system of absolute rule. The revolt triumphed without difficulty in Portugal. Installed in Lisbon, the rebel regime ordered the election of a sovereign congress, or Cortes, which would draw up a constitution for the Portuguese possessions. These unprecedented developments so shocked the royal government at Rio de Janeiro that it was reduced to complete passivity. Early in  the Portuguese army units garrisoning the principal cities of Brazil declared in favor of the Lisbon regime. The king could only acquiesce to the situation and accept the loss of his traditional powers.7 In April  the king João VI and his court finally had no choice but to return to Lisbon, where the newly elected Côrtes was sitting. Left behind in Rio, as regent of the kingdom of Brazil, was João VI’s elder son, D. Pedro. At first the prince regent, who was young, uneducated, and headstrong, existed on sufferance. His authority was repudiated by most of the elected juntas which governed the nineteen provinces, and his conduct was closely monitored by the Portuguese army units stationed at Rio. By the end of  the kingdom of Brazil, created in , had ceased to have any reality. The Lisbon Côrtes, which felt no sympathy toward it, issued a decree recalling the prince regent of Brazil to Portugal; further, it began debating the abolition of the organs of government established in Rio in the years since .8 Resistance at Rio de Janeiro to the actions of the Côrtes was organized by a coalition made up of radicals who desired an independent (and ideally a republican) state and of conservatives who wished to retain the status quo that events since  had created. The two groups agreed that persuading the prince regent D. Pedro to defy the decree of the Lisbon Côrtes and to remain in Rio was the

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  , ‒ key to success. By consenting in January  to stay, the prince regent in effect placed himself at the head of the movement challenging the Côrtes. D. Pedro succeeded in overawing the Portuguese troops stationed in Rio. They withdrew from the city and finally embarked for Lisbon. Thereby the regency government at last secured independence of action.9 For the next year and a half the regime at Rio and the Côrtes government at Lisbon contended for the loyalty of the provinces of Brazil. As the confrontation grew into armed conflict, the Rio regime became increasingly radical in its goals. “Half measures do not suit my nature,” D. Pedro later remarked.10 In July  the prince regent summoned a separate constituent assembly for Brazil, and on September  he declared Brazil independent from Portugal. Some weeks later he was acclaimed emperor as Pedro I of Brazil. In the terminology of the period, the word “empire” signified a monarchy of unusually large size and resources, and this designation avoided D. Pedro’s usurping the title of “king” from his father, João VI.11 The title of “emperor” connoted a ruler chosen by election, as the Holy Roman Emperor had been, or at least reigning through popular sanction, as had the emperor Napoleon I. As Pedro I’s title proclaimed, he was “by the grace of God and the unanimous acclamation of the peoples, constitutional emperor and perpetual defender of Brazil.”12 The proclamation of the Empire of itself resolved nothing. As an observer noted in December , “Everything is to be done. There is no constitution, no [law] codes, no system of education; nothing exists save for a sovereign recognized and crowned.”13 The last of the Portuguese troops were not expelled from Brazilian soil until August . By then the new Constituent Assembly had been in session for some three months. Although the deputies were drawn from among the ablest and best educated men in Brazil, they proved as exaggerated in their pretensions as they were long-winded in debate. The emperor, who resented any infringement on his inherited prerogatives and who lacked any skill at political management, finally lost patience. In November  he mobilized troops from the Rio garrison and dissolved the assembly by force.14 Promising his subjects a constitution “doubly more liberal” than the Constituent Assembly’s draft, the emperor set his inner circle of advisers to work. Using and generally improving upon the assembly’s proposals, the councilors produced a constitution that, after a pro forma consultation with the town councils of Brazil, was promulgated by Pedro I on March , . In some respects this  constitution was indeed liberal. It guaranteed a wide range of civil liberties, and it entrusted to an elected legislature (composed of a senate and chamber of deputies) the enactment of laws and the control of finance. The electorate included a good part of the free male population. The executive was placed in the hands of ministers who conducted the government’s business in

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  , ‒ the legislature.15 On the other hand, the constitution established not three but four powers: the legislative, the regulating, the executive, and the judicial. The regulating power [poder moderador], “the key to the entire political organization,”16 was entrusted exclusively to the emperor and included the right to dissolve the Chamber of Deputies, to nominate senators (from an elected short list of three), to name ministers, to sanction laws and decrees, to suspend members of the judiciary, and to grant pardons. Before employing the poder moderador, the emperor had to consult not with his ministers but with a council of state, the members of which he appointed. The  constitution created, in sum, a political order that was representative and even democratic in appearance but extremely traditional in its essence. Its successful functioning would depend a great deal on the talents of the monarch and upon the confidence that his character and integrity inspired in the political community.17 The problem was that, due to the emperor’s violent dissolution of the Constituent Assembly, he did not command that confidence. The provinces of the northeast, which in  had revolted against rule from Rio, now rose up against rule by Pedro I. The rebels viewed the new constitution as an imposed document, an act of monarchical pretension. In July  the rebels proclaimed a republican and federal form of government. Suppressing the rebellion in the northeast caused no great difficulty, but its very occurrence made patent that the Empire did not command unanimous support from the population of Brazil.18 Although the defeat of the revolt removed any immediate challenge to the Empire’s existence, the regime lacked a sense of security and so sought external validation of its authority—in particular, recognition by the monarchies of Europe. Such recognition depended, however, upon a settlement with Portugal. Negotiations began in  through the good offices of Great Britain, but Portugal could not reconcile itself to the independence of the territories that had made it a great power, just as Pedro I’s father could not countenance his elder son and heir claiming a more grandiose title than his own.19 The impasse was broken by the British government, which feared that a continuation of the dispute might jeopardize its trade with Brazil and the commercial privileges it had long enjoyed there. A British diplomat went first to Lisbon, where he bullied João VI into empowering him to act on Portugal’s behalf, and then sailed on to Brazil. Arriving at Rio in July , the envoy soon achieved his goal. Although the terms agreed upon did require considerable concessions from Brazil, the treaty signed on August  secured the essential point: Portugal’s unqualified acceptance of Brazil’s independence and its recognition of the Empire. Once the terms were confirmed by João VI, who ratified the treaty in November, the other monarchies of Europe followed suit.20 Such external recognition served to legitimate the regime and to strengthen its internal support.

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  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II’s mother, Empress Leopoldina

One indispensable element for the Empire’s survival was, in the opinion of the period, a male heir. Since her marriage to D. Pedro in , D. Leopoldina had given birth five times. Her eldest child, D. Maria da Glória, had been followed by a son, born in March . Ailing from the start, the infant prince had died before reaching his first birthday. Three more daughters followed. In May  news that the empress was once again pregnant aroused great hopes as to the sex of the new baby.21 The signing of the treaty with Portugal in August appeared a good omen. In November expectations heightened. The inhabitants of Rio were ordered to illuminate their houses for three nights as soon as the birth was announced. When on the very day of his birth the infant was presented to the assembled court, contentment was general. “Heaven has heard the prayers and granted the wishes of all the Brazilians,” the Rio city council proclaimed, “giving them a Prince in whom the Line of the August Imperial Dynasty is prolonged.” The council extended the illuminations for a further four days. With D. Pedro’s existence was bound up Brazil’s future as a united entity, and so its viability as a nation-state. The regime’s continuation appeared assured. Great things were expected of the “prince who,” in the words of one birthday ode, “has come to fulfill the hope of Brazil.”22 In one sense D. Pedro came, as do all human beings, naked into the world. As the prince’s own antecedents attested, he was born burdened, as we all are, with considerable biological and cultural inheritance. The ancestry of Brazil’s

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  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II’s father, Emperor Pedro I, in 

future ruler may have been exalted, but genetically it had little to offer. His father and mother were second cousins. His mother’s parents were double first cousins, which meant that D. Leopoldina had four great-grandparents in place of the usual eight. Pedro I’s parents were first cousins. Pedro I’s father was in turn the child of a marriage between uncle and niece. Such unions between very close relatives had long been the custom among European royalty who belonged to the Catholic Church, so much so that, counting back five generations, the young prince possessed (as Table  shows) only fourteen in place of the usual thirty-two great-great-great-grandparents.23 Such extensive inbreeding sharply increased the likelihood that the baby would inherit any defective genes carried by his parents. Insanity, mental retardation, and emotional instability were in fact prevalent on both sides of his family. His paternal great-grandmother, D. Maria I of Portugal, had been considered insane during the last twenty-five years of her life. His maternal uncle, the future emperor Ferdinand of Austria, has been described as being “subject to epileptic fits, and in general extremely frail, while mentally, if not idiotic, he was on the verge of idiocy.” The infant prince’s own father, Pedro I, was hyperactive and suffered from occasional epileptic seizures.24 Such a genetic background rendered dubious the prospects of D. Pedro’s possessing robust health or showing marked intellectual capacity. Worries on this score were evident from a comment published shortly after his birth in the Gazeta do Rio de Janeiro, which referred to his deceased elder brother’s “convulsions which, on two separate

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 .      João V of Portugal

Pedro II of Portugal Maria Sophia of Neuberg

Maria Anna of Austria

Leopold I of the Holy Roman empire Eleanor of Neuberg

José I of Portugal

João V of Portugal Maria Anna of Austria

Maria Ana of Spain

Philip V of Spain Elizabeth Farnese

Charles III of Spain

Philip V of Spain Elizabeth Farnese

Maria Amelia of Saxony

Augustus III of Poland Maria Josepha of Austria

Philip duke of Parma

Philip V of Spain Elizabeth Farnese

Louisa-Elizabeth of France

Louis XV of France Maria Leszczynska

Pedro III of Portugal João VI of Portugal

Maria I of Portugal Pedro I of Brazil Charles IV of Spain Carlota Joaquina of Spain Maria Louisa of Parma Pedro II of Brazil

Francis I of the Holy Roman empire Leopold III of the Holy Roman empire Francis II of the Holy Roman empire and I of Austria

Maria Theresa of Austria

Charles III of Spain Maria Louisa of Spain Maria Amelia of Saxony

Leopoldina of Austria

Charles III of Spain Ferdinand IV of Naples Maria Theresa of Naples

Maria Amelia of Saxony Francis I of the Holy Roman empire

Maria Carolina of Austria Maria Theresa of Austria

Leopold duke of Lorraine Elizabeth Charlotte of Orléans Charles VI of the Holy Roman empire Elizabeth Christina of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel Philip V of Spain Elizabeth Farnese Augustus III of Poland Maria Josepha of Austria Philip V of Spain Elizabeth Farnese Augustus III of Poland Maria Josepha of Austria Leopold duke of Lorraine Elizabeth Charlotte of Orléans Charles VI of the Holy Roman empire Elizabeth Christina of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel

  , ‒ occasions, attacked prince D. João, the first a few days after his baptism and the other at the age of eleven months, which ended in the mournful day of February , .”25 In physical looks, D. Pedro might well have inherited the spectacular ugliness that marked both his paternal grandparents. The baby’s blue eyes and blond hair suggested, however, that he would look like his mother’s family, but in that case he would likely be marked by the protruding jaw and jutting lower lip so characteristic of his Habsburg ancestors.26 For the moment, in the days after D. Pedro’s birth on December , , such worries weighed little against the fact of his existence. He was the indispensable male heir to the throne, the physical assurance of the Empire’s continuance. The significance of this fact in determining the shape of D. Pedro’s future life cannot be overemphasized. Shakespeare’s phrase—“there’s such divinity doth hedge a king”—applied fully to the prince, his birth in the New World notwithstanding. Endowed with an aura of authority, viewed with awe, and treated with deference, he was from the day of his birth different from other mortals. In old age D. Pedro compared himself to “a man enclosed in a glass tower.”27 This distinctiveness, this quality of being set apart, of being isolated behind a transparent wall, was to affect all his relationships, even with his own family. An expectation that his smallest order would be immediately carried out and an instinctive feeling of superiority formed crucial elements in D. Pedro’s birth, upbringing, outlook, and behavior. These elements were powerfully reinforced by the realities which in the early nineteenth century governed the existence of European monarchs. They occupied a central and indispensable position in public affairs, and the polity revolved around them. In national life the sovereign played two distinct but intertwined roles, which Walter Bagehot, author of The English Constitution, characterized as the “dignified” and the “efficient.” The first role enabled monarchs to gain the loyalty and confidence of humankind, and the second to employ that homage to carry out the work of government.28 In its first role the monarchy served as the symbol of the existing social order and as the embodiment of national identity. Endowed with a certain mystery, monarchs performed rites and ceremonies which placed them on a plane above that of ordinary mortals. Monarchs were perceived in almost sacerdotal terms, since they were God’s appointed and the guardians of the established religion that upheld the social and moral order. The rites and ceremonies which made up a central part of monarchs’ lives included all the principal Christian festivals. These public occasions with their rituals, the special attire of the participants, and their musical accompaniment blended the religious and the secular in the public mind. In these public ceremonies and also in their day-to-day existence, monarchs were surrounded by the members of their court, who were usually

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  , ‒ drawn from the country’s aristocracy. The court enhanced the splendor of the ceremonies, kept subjects at a distance, and by its very existence protected the sovereign’s status. This first role of monarchs secured for them reverence and obedience but, as a corollary, it meant that the sovereign was constantly on show. The monarch’s life cycle—birth, childhood, courtship, marriage, and death—took place in public, subject to the world’s scrutiny.29 The second role played by monarchs of Europe lay in the conduct of the government. Part of this role was ceremonial. The sovereign opened and closed the legislative sessions with a speech. The business of government was carried out in the monarch’s name. The sovereign sanctioned laws, conferred titles of nobility and other honors, and signed all decrees. More significant was the monarch’s involvement in the actual business of government. In constitutional monarchies of the early nineteenth century, the ruler’s prerogatives were balanced by popular representation, and every law and decree had to be countersigned by a minister. These restraints did not however make the monarch a cipher. As François Guizot, the French statesman, remarked, “Le trône n’est un fauteuil vide” [the throne is not an empty chair]. In the monarch’s hands lay the choosing of the head of a new cabinet, the right to approve (and so to veto) the nomination of ministers, and the power to dismiss them. The monarch had the right to be consulted about the cabinet’s general program of legislation and about specific measures it proposed. Every law, every decree, every appointment had to be signed by the monarch, and that signature could never be taken for granted. The monarch had to be consulted, courted, and conciliated. Only a foolish cabinet would treat the monarch with disregard, and only a rash one would override the sovereign.30 The monarch had multiple ways of testing political opinion, influencing affairs, and making desires and grievances known. The sovereign was far from unaided in handling the business of government. The court played an essential role in this regard. The monarch could depend upon members of the court for advice and support. In turn the courtiers could make the sovereign’s preferences known, sound out the state of political opinion, and carry out negotiations, all without the ruler’s direct involvement. The degree of influence a monarch enjoyed in the business of government depended upon the individual’s sagacity, application to business, and skill in political maneuver. In December , on learning of the death of Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort, a leading British politician commented that “had he lived to add to his great industry and talent the weight which age and long experience would have given in dealing with statesmen of his own standing, he might have made himself almost as powerful as the Prime Minister of the day.”31 Although the Empire of Brazil was a recent creation and existed in the New

  

  , ‒ World, the sovereign’s two roles differed in no way from those played by the rulers in the European kingdoms. The Catholic Church was the established religion of the Empire, and the emperor (Pedro I and Pedro II after him) was assiduous in performing his religious duties, which meant attending a daily Mass and personal participation in the principal church festivals. Following the practice of the Portuguese monarchs, Pedro I and later Pedro II gave each week at the palace an audience open to subjects of every class and condition. The emperor listened as one by one they presented their petitions, their grievances, and their compliments. The emperor also gave frequent closed audiences to foreign diplomats, military officers, and other visiting dignitaries. At intervals throughout the year—to honor family anniversaries, national holidays, and major church festivals—the emperor held a full court [dia de gala], a gathering characterized by an elaborate ceremonial, rigid observance of etiquette, and the wearing of full uniforms and insignia by the men and court gowns and jewelry by the women. At about half of these full courts, the beija mão ceremony took place. Those entitled to be present at full courts gathered in the ante-chambers to the throne room. To a flourish of trumpets the emperor with his family and attendants appeared and, passing through the chambers, entered the throne room. There the emperor and his family stood on a dais, while his attendants would fazer parede—that is, line up around the walls. In strict order of precedence the awaiting throng were admitted to the throne room, filed up to their sovereign, and, on bended knee, kissed his hand. They then backed out of his presence. At the close of the ceremonies, the emperor would withdraw with his family and attendant officials into his personal apartments in the palace.32 The setting for the emperor’s day-to-day existence—a setting from which Pedro I and his son Pedro II rarely escaped—was the Côrte e Casa, the imperial court and the imperial household within it.33 The Côrte e Casa stood separate from the rest of society. Transferred intact from Lisbon in , the Côrte e Casa was maintained unaltered after independence.34 The word court signified both the physical residence of the emperor and the cupola of an elaborate hierarchy of privilege. At the base of the hierarchy were those who were fidalgos, of noble or blue blood. The status of fidalgo could be inherited, gained by nomination to one of the orders of chivalry, or acquired by appointment as an officer in the military. As emperor of Brazil, Pedro I maintained three orders of chivalry from the Portuguese monarchy—Cristo, São Bento d’Aviz, and São Tiago da Espada—and established three others—Cruzeiro, Pedro I, and Rosa. All six orders continued into Pedro II’s reign. The three oldest orders possessed only three grades of honors—cavaleiro [knight], comendador [commander], and grand cross [grã cruz]—but that of the Cruzeiro had four and of the Rosa no fewer than six.35 The emperor served as grand master of all six orders. There was also a titled

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  , ‒ nobility, some fifty-six strong late in , some with titles granted by João VI and others bestowed by Pedro I since . Counts and marquises were automatically members of the Côrte, but barons and viscounts were members only if their titles had been conferred com grandeza (with the right of entry).36 In Portugal the titled nobility and the old fidalgo families had provided most of the courtiers serving the monarch, and to a certain extent this practice persisted in the Empire of Brazil. In  the imperial court contained about  official posts, of which  were held by titled nobles.37 The posts at court were of two types. The great officers of state, such as the maiordomo-mor [lord high steward] and the estribeiro-mor [master of the horse], were members of the titled nobility, and their duties were limited to participation in state ceremonies such as the coronation and the dias de gala. The second rank of court posts was composed of four groups: the gentishomens da imperial câmara [chamberlains], the veadores [gentlemen ushers], the guarda-roupas [keepers of the wardrobe], and the médicos da imperial câmara [physicians of the chamber].38 Each week four courtiers—a chamberlain, a gentleman usher, a keeper of the wardrobe, and a physician of the chamber—would come into service, being da semana [of the week]. These four officials would be during the day in constant attendance on the emperor.39 Appointments at court, held as a rule by individuals of noble descent, were not sinecures but did not impose heavy duties. The imperial household [casa imperial], which existed within the court [côrte], encompassed those men and women who gave actual service to the emperor and his family. The members of the casa imperial were all known as criados [servants], but they in fact were divided into two groups. The criados de galão dourado [servants of gold braid], who formed both part of the court and of the household, were the great officers of state and the court officials, or courtiers.40 They provided the monarch and his family with company, support, and advice. The criados de galão branco [servants of silver braid] were, to use a phrase employed by Queen Victoria of England, the “confidential servants who are constantly in personal attendance on the sovereign.”41 They catered to the private needs of the imperial family and of court officials. The functions of the two groups in the household were not absolutely separate. Both groups wore the distinctive green and gold livery reserved for use by the imperial household. The courtiers received lodging and board when they were in service at court.42 The confidential servants [criados de galão branco], who numbered over a hundred, received monthly pay and were resident at the court. They were, however, servants in name only. They avoided any duties that were undignified or involved physical labor, such tasks being carried out by a host of underservants and slaves. Frequent contact with members of the imperial family gave the confidential servants a considerable influence.43 The outlook of courtiers and confiden-

  

  , ‒

Figure . The Paço da Cidade (city palace) at the time of Independence

tial servants was very similar. The two groups lived in the same setting. Recruits came largely from the families already employed at the palace, and service at court tended to be for life. This practice accounted during the s for the presence among Pedro I’s courtiers and confidential servants of a disproportionate number of individuals born in Portugal.44 Pedro I, his family, and his court moved between three residences, all acquired by the emperor’s father after his arrival in . Most of the year was spent at the palace [paço] of São Cristóvão, which lay a few miles outside of Rio de Janeiro, then a city of some ,. The Paço da Cidade, standing in the heart of Rio city, was used mainly for the formal court ceremonies held from time to time throughout the year. The third imperial residence, visited during the hot summer months, was situated on the fazenda [estate] of Santa Cruz, lying some fifty miles west of Rio de Janeiro city.45 This shifting existence had its inconveniences, but the members of the Côrte e Casa, for whom familiar settings and established practices were sacrosanct, accepted them as a matter of course. The Côrte e Casa naturally revolved around the emperor, since he alone gave them purpose and justified their existence. The same deference and duty that the members of the court and household gave to the monarch they expected to receive from those below them. Their world was structured by entrenched etiquette and hierarchical privilege, and they fiercely defended their continuance. If they were wise, courtiers and confidential servants strove to shield their Augusto

  

  , ‒ Amo [August Master], as the monarch was known, from dangerous influences, to dissuade him from contentious or unusual behavior, and to maintain his image as a perfect prince. The inner circle of courtiers and confidential servants—individuals many of whom the monarch had known since childhood and whose discretion was inviolate—could also provide an opportunity, without breaching the relationship of sovereign and subject, for the monarch to relax and behave spontaneously. Such moments of release served to strengthen the status quo: they provided psychological relief that made tolerable the burden of rule.46 Not many courts—certainly not that of Pedro I—achieved this ideal of harmony and support. Maria Graham, an English widow who late in  served briefly as governess to the emperor’s eldest daughter, wrote a vivid account of her life in the imperial household.47 The basic problem was poor organization. The various departments of the household, such as kitchen, pantry, and stables, existed in virtual independence, all of them vigilant to defend their entrenched rights and perquisites. Members of the imperial family each possessed what amounted to a personal establishment or chamber [quarto] with its own retinue of servants, each establishment competing for resources and advantages. No one, least of all the emperor himself, possessed the authority or the capacity to impose order and control on this congeries of interests. The nature of the household personnel compounded the problem. When João VI returned to Lisbon in , most of the court and household had accompanied their master, leaving only a minority of the courtiers and perhaps a majority of the upper servants at Rio. Those who did remain received rapid advancement in the Côrte e Casa, regardless of their lack of social standing and their inexperience. Pedro I consistently failed to subordinate his personal behavior and choice of intimates to the needs of the monarchy and its national prestige, and so he did not provide a model of conduct that might have kept the situation in control. Consequently the imperial court and household were a hive of intrigue in which competing factions gave first thought to personal advantage. By pandering to their master’s whims and playing on his weaknesses, courtiers and upper servants sought to ingratiate themselves with the ruler and so secure favors from him. Anyone who threatened the status quo became, as Maria Graham discovered to her cost, the target for vituperation and expulsion from the palace. The members of the Côrte e Casa failed, in other words, to maintain the decorum necessary to a court or to protect the public image that any ruler had to project.48 As Maria Graham pointed out, Pedro I did not lack good intentions and on recognizing his errors would often strive to remedy them. Her appointment and sudden dismissal as governess did produce some benefit. On October , , the emperor named his confessor, Frei Antônio de Arrábida, director of his

  

  , ‒ daughters’ studies.49 At the same time the emperor approved a set of detailed instructions for the upbringing and education of his children. They were to rise at seven in the morning and go to bed no later than half-past eight in the evening. They took their meals at : .., at noon, and at : .. In the morning they did their lessons, and late in the afternoon they took exercise. By appointing a lady-in-waiting to be responsible for each child and by giving her authority over all those attached to the child’s establishment [quarto], these new instructions attempted to remedy several of the practices that had so troubled Maria Graham.50 A principal goal of the instructions was to ensure that the emperor’s children were adequately educated, since Pedro I was determined that “my brother Miguel and I will be the last ignoramuses of the Bragança family.”51 The new system of oversight and instruction seems to have flourished as well as could be expected in a rather ramshackle court. Late in , when the empress’s pregnancy gave hope of a male heir, Pedro I took several measures to ensure proper care for the baby. The prince was given his own establishment [quarto], headed by a trusted lady-in-waiting. The prince’s parents, who felt enormous pride in their son and showed much concern for his well-being, carried none of the burden of his early nurture. “You understand all this better than I do,” was the emperor’s customary response whenever the ladyin-waiting came to him with problems about his son. The baby was breast-fed not by his mother but by the same wet nurse who had suckled his sister D. Paula.52 D. Pedro’s contact with his parents, although fairly frequent, can be best characterized as a series of set encounters, encounters subordinated to their other duties. In February , when D. Pedro was just two months old, the emperor and empress departed for several weeks on a state visit to the northern province of Bahia. For royal and noble families of the period, there was nothing remarkable in leaving a baby behind in the care of attendants. What was unusual on this occasion was the emperor’s decision, causing much public scandal, to include his mistress in the entourage accompanying the imperial couple and their eldest daughter, D. Maria da Glória.53 Dynastic convenience, not love, had motivated the marriage of Pedro I and D. Leopoldina. Personal compatibility had not concerned the diplomats who arranged the union in  of the elder son and heir of the king of Portugal with the second daughter of Emperor Francis I of Austria.54 The young couple, both aged nineteen when they wed, shared few interests, apart from a love of riding. Virtually uneducated, Pedro I cared not at all for the scientific pursuits which D. Leopoldina favored. The empress lacked the looks and the temperament needed to keep Pedro I faithful. Raised to be pious, tractable, and long suffering, D. Leopoldina submitted as a matter of duty both to her spouse’s sexual adventures and to his lack of emotional control. On the emperor’s side, although his wife

  

  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II’s eldest sister, who was from the age of seven Queen Maria II of Portugal

did not merit either faithfulness or devotion, he did usually regard her with some affection and goodwill and treated her as part of his life. Serious as the marital problems were, the relationship was apparently solid enough until, on visiting São Paulo province in August , Pedro I encountered Domitilia de Castro Canto e Melo—young, unhappily married to a military officer, and very attractive.55 Shrewd and ambitious, D. Domitilia possessed all the allure and all the arts of management that D. Leopoldina so conspicuously lacked. By the middle of  the favorite had been installed in a house near the palace of São Cristóvão. As her hold over the emperor strengthened, the demands she made on him grew. In April  she was appointed a lady-in-waiting at court and in October of that year ennobled as viscountess of Santos. In February  she accompanied the imperial couple on their visit to Bahia, during which time D. Leopoldina was forced to endure the constant proximity of her rival. Worse was to come. In May  Pedro I formally acknowledged as his child D. Domitilia’s daughter Isabel Maria, creating her duchess of Goiás with the title of “Royal Highness.” In October, D. Domitilia was raised to the rank of marchioness.56 The favors showered on his mistress by a besotted monarch were humiliating enough, but what particularly embittered D. Leopoldina was her husband’s increasingly callous treatment of her. He kept her perpetually short of funds, so that she was forced to borrow and beg money from any source, and his attitude toward her became brusque and hostile.57 Feeling ever more isolated, neglected, and despised, D. Leopoldina fell into a profound depression. Once again preg-

  

  , ‒ nant in the middle of , she lost any desire to live after her husband abused her in the presence of his favorite. Shortly thereafter urgent business called the emperor away on a visit to the far south of Brazil. D. Leopoldina miscarried, contracted puerperal fever, and died on December , . The following day the infant prince, then just one year old, was taken with his siblings to pay his last respects to the body of D. Leopoldina, lying in state.58 In later years D. Pedro could recall nothing of his mother. Her death caused no upheaval in his existence, brought no change in his routine. In emotional terms, her disappearance had no immediate impact on him.59 In contrast, D. Leopoldina’s death had a profoundly unsettling effect on the emperor, both in terms of his personal behavior and in respect to his public life. Although he had taken his wife for granted while she was alive, Pedro I found himself deeply distressed by her disappearance. He turned in compensation to his mistress, on whom he became totally dependent. He treated her as though she were his wife (which she could not be, already having a husband) and placed his children by her on a par with his legitimate offspring. This visible infatuation confirmed in the public’s mind the rumors about his mistreatment of D. Leopoldina in the last months of her life and intensified popular antipathy toward D. Domitilia.60 The emperor could ill afford such a loss of respect and reputation at a moment when public affairs were taking a most unfavorable course. The difficulties that Pedro I experienced in respect to the second of his roles as monarch—the management of government business—were to a significant degree of his own making. By nature the emperor was too ebullient, too erratic, and too emotional for his role. Virtually uneducated, he had not been trained to maintain the necessary self-control and adaptability. He was, on the one hand, too dependent upon a small group of councilors and courtiers, mainly Portuguese-born. Yet, on the other, he tended to respond to situations on impulse, without considering the consequences of his actions. Pedro I’s most serious blunder, in terms of its long-term consequences, was his violent dissolution of the Constituent Assembly in November . The dissolution had denied the imperial regime immediate legitimacy and deprived it of the internal support needed to handle Brazil’s external relations with Portugal, Great Britain, and the Rio de la Plata. The  treaty with Portugal, arranged through Great Britain, had contained provisions that were demeaning to Brazil’s honor as well as financially costly. It had, moreover, deliberately avoided any mention of the succession to the Portuguese throne. When João VI died early in , the royal advisers proclaimed his elder son, Pedro I, king of Portugal as Pedro IV, a position which the Brazilian constitution of  forbade him to hold. When the news of his succession reached Rio de Janeiro at the end of April, just before the opening of the first legislature to be elected

  

  , ‒ under the  constitution, the emperor had to find a speedy solution to the problem. He could not pass the Portuguese crown to his infant son, who was needed as his successor in Brazil. He therefore abdicated the Portuguese throne in favor of his eldest daughter, D. Maria da Glória, having first used his powers as king to grant a constitution for Portugal. It soon became obvious that most Portuguese did not welcome rule by a queen aged seven and absent in Brazil. They looked instead to D. Miguel, the emperor’s younger brother, as their rightful sovereign. Only diplomatic and military intervention by Great Britain in  and  upheld the fledgling system of constitutional rule in Portugal.61 When a British envoy arrived in Rio de Janeiro to negotiate fresh treaties relating to commerce and the slave trade, the emperor and his ministers found themselves so beholden to Great Britain as to preclude much resistance to that country’s demands. An agreement banning the slave trade with Africa, after a three-year period of grace, was signed in November  and a commercial treaty, to last for at least fifteen years, was finally concluded in August . The terms of both treaties could be and were denounced as injurious to Brazil’s honor and national interests, and Pedro I’s acceptance of the agreements further undermined his prestige.62 The most serious challenge to the emperor’s position was the conflict that had broken out in the far south in April . Spain and Portugal had long contended for control of the Banda Oriental, the territory on the east bank of the Rio de la Plata. Between  and  João VI had succeeded in conquering the territory, which was then incorporated into the new Empire. Popular support for rule by Brazil was so slight that, when in April  a small group of thirty-three men invaded from the United Provinces of the Rio de la Plata (later to become Argentina), a general insurrection followed. The United Provinces’ congress formally declared the area part of its territory. In response the Empire issued a declaration of war against its neighbor, just ten days after D. Pedro’s birth.63 Despite Brazil’s superior resources in men and supplies, it could not defeat its opponents. Late in November  the emperor left Rio for the far south, determined to reorganize his military forces and lead them to a decisive victory. News of his wife’s death brought him home before the task was even begun. The conflict dragged on, an expensive stalemate which lacked all glory and became increasingly unpopular.64 All these developments placed Pedro I and his circle of advisors at a decisive disadvantage in the struggle for political supremacy that developed during  and . Two very different conceptions of Brazil as a nation-state motivated the conflict. The first was a vision, derived principally from Napoleon I, of a constitutional order endowed with an elected legislature and independent judiciary but directed by a supreme ruler whose superior talents and favorable star gave

  

  , ‒ him uncontested authority. The second view of the nation-state accepted the people—or, more precisely, that section of the population who qualified as “civilized”—to be the source of authority, with the representatives they elected controlling power. The advocates of this second view dominated the Chamber of Deputies, the lower house of the Brazilian legislature. Their principal goal was to make the cabinet ministers accountable to the legislature and thereby to restrict the emperor’s powers. Pedro I had no intention of surrendering one iota of the authority he held under the  constitution.65 This conflict consumed both energy and attention that should have been devoted to the urgent necessities of Brazil, which, beyond possessing a constitution, lacked almost every other attribute of a nation-state. The Chamber of Deputies sought, from its inauguration in May , to enact laws which would make the constitution a reality, replace colonial absolutism with representative institutions, and implement Brazilians’ rights as citizens. The measures passed from  to  included reform of the judiciary, creation of juizes de paz [elected justices of the peace], promulgation of codes of criminal law and criminal procedure, and authorization of freedom of the press. Two law schools, at Olinda in the northeast province of Pernambuco and at São Paulo in the south, were created; two medical schools already existed, at Salvador in Bahia and at Rio de Janeiro. Primary schools in the urban centers of Brazil were authorized. The naturalization of foreigners, the grant of privileges to inventors, and the construction of public works were regulated. The effect of these and other measures was to limit the powers of the emperor and his ministers and to create alternative sources of authority.66 Significant as were these challenges in shaping the future life of the young heir to the throne, they did not intrude into the sheltered existence of his childhood. The world within which D. Pedro’s consciousness slowly formed and his perceptions grew was focused on the palace of São Cristóvão, situated to the northwest of Rio de Janeiro city.67 In  a foreign visitor praised the “beautiful São Cristóvão valley with its innumerable summer homes and gardens with the most luxuriant vegetation.” The site was “not inaptly named the Quinta de Boa Vista” [Beautiful View country house].68 The palace’s windows commanded good views of rugged mountains, tropical vegetation, and the waters of Guanabara Bay, all of which continue to make Rio de Janeiro so attractive. São Cristóvão was more than a residence. It was also a working estate devoted to agriculture, and in  no fewer than  slaves labored in its fields.69 “Quite often the first sound to be heard in the morning,” a visitor in  later recalled, “was the voice of D. Pedro demanding of the workers and slaves laboring on his estate whether they were ready to be inspected.” The kitchens, stables, and quarters for servants and slaves scattered across the grounds produced mounds of

  

  , ‒ human and animal waste that gave offense to both eye and nose.70 The only area of formality on the grounds was the European-style gardens, laid out on two sides of the palace. The hedges lining the garden paths were composed of coffee and cotton plants, with orange trees planted at regular intervals.71 The imperial residence, a huge hulk of a building painted yellow, was not worthy of its attractive setting. Originally the country retreat of a local merchant, who had given it to João VI in , the palace over the years had undergone alterations and expansions, all in different architectural styles, that deprived it of any character. Inside, the state rooms were high ceilinged, cavernous, and inelegant. The imperial family’s private apartments, which occupied the upper floors, were equally lacking in style and convenience. During Pedro II’s boyhood, some  male underservants worked in the palace’s coach houses, stables, storerooms, and kitchens. When a foreign prince stayed at São Cristóvão in , he and his small suite were assigned thirty-two servants. “Such is the practice in Brazil,” one of the suite commented. “Everyone does as little as possible, and all the work is really carried out by the Negroes.”72 The burden of work inside the palace fell on the fifty male slaves, of whom about twenty were in personal service to the imperial family. A further six female slaves, supervised by a male, were charged with washing the clothes of the imperial family. Their names have survived, because—perhaps surprisingly—they received a monthly payment for their work. Arcangela de Jesus, Maria da Paixão, F. Clemência, Josefa Selemina, Maria do Canto, Rita Francisca, and the other household slaves and ordinary servants were to be found in every part of the palace.73 In October , Pedro I ordered that the court ladies placed in charge of his daughters’ nurture not allow the princesses to “talk to the male or female blacks, nor play with the boys, and take especial care that the girls do not see them naked.”74 Whatever São Cristóvão may have lacked in terms of service and comfort, it was as a residence infinitely preferable to the Paço da Cidade, the city palace. Formerly the residence of the Portuguese viceroy during the colonial period, this cramped building stood on the quayside in the heart of the city, open to the street on every side and thus subjected to what Maria Graham aptly termed “the noise and dirt of the city.”75 Although the city palace was occupied by courtiers and staffed by a train of servants, the emperor and his family did not use it as a main residence, preferring to come from São Cristóvão for court functions and the conduct of state affairs.76 The emperor offered the beija-mão ceremony there, presided over full courts, received foreign envoys, and attended religious ceremonies, held in the imperial chapel located across the street from the palace. The country palace accordingly provided the setting for D. Pedro’s early years, the milieu in which his character was formed. His daily routine followed

  

  , ‒

Figure 5. Pedro II at about the age of four

the instructions on the imperial offspring’s education and upbringing issued by Pedro I in October . The only break to this settled existence occurred when D. Pedro, from the time he could walk, began going with his father to the ceremonies held at the city palace, and when, during the hot summer months of December to April, he and his sisters accompanied the emperor on his visits to Santa Cruz, an imperial fazenda lying in a vast plain to the west of Rio de Janeiro.77 Since Santa Cruz did not provide much escape from the summer heat, the emperor began to spend the months of February and March at an estate, the fazenda of Padre Correia, high in the mountains north of Rio. In  and  the young prince accompanied his father there. Over thirty years later D. Pedro was to revisit the spot where, as he later wrote, “I spent some months of my childhood, immediately recognizing the bridge on which I used to go fishing.”78 Not much personal information exists about D. Pedro during his first four years. He certainly suffered his share of childhood ailments. In August , when teething, he was sufficiently ill to warrant the issuing of two medical bulletins. A slight complaint, probably a cold, was accompanied by a high fever which in turn provoked—as can be the case in infants’ maladies—convulsive seizures. The court physicians were able to bring down the fever and so stop the convulsions. When a member of the titled nobility came to court upon his return from Europe at the end of , he saw the young prince, whom he later

  

  , ‒ recalled as having been “thin and very yellow.”79 Nothing suggests, however, that the child’s health was not generally good. An English clergyman, who saw the young prince in  at a diplomatic reception at the city palace, described him as “a fine little fellow of three years old,” “dressed in plain jacket and trousers,” and looking “so simple and pretty that he interested everyone.”80 This perception is confirmed by a diplomat who at a later date remarked about Pedro II that “usually he is very cheerful, has a laughing air.”81 As these references make clear, the offspring of Pedro I were present at official functions, even evening performances at the theater, and were expected to behave in public with a decorum befitting their rank. Maria Graham commented in  that D. Maria da Glória, at the age of five, “had been already trained to play the Little Queen with a grace & manner that perfectly astounded me the first time I saw them.”82 D. Pedro’s first bonds of affection were forged with the members of his chamber [quarto]. The most important figure was D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães Coutinho, appointed by the emperor to be the lady-in-waiting in charge of D. Pedro’s nurture. Born in Portugal in , D. Mariana came with her family to Rio in . Both her husband, a government bureaucrat, and her children held positions at court. Widowed in , D. Mariana seems to have found personal fulfillment in her new appointment, regarding her charge, on whom she lavished care and affection, as her own grandchild. As his infantile name for her— “Dadama”—suggests, D. Pedro established with her the close emotional attachment which infants customarily develop from the age of about seven months, usually with their mothers.83 He felt similar and enduring attachment for everyone who attended him in his childhood. His wet nurse received a pension and occupied lodgings in the city palace until her death in . In  D. Pedro noted: “There is no news from here save for the death of Canon Cesário [Fernandes da Tôrre], known to me since childhood.”84 The deceased priest had been a chaplain of the imperial chapel in the s and later the manager of an imperial property on the outskirts of Rio city. In respect to the members of his actual family, D. Pedro saw his father fairly frequently but the fact that, in adulthood, he retained no strong images of him suggests that the relationship was not a close one. Within the family his most significant links were formed with his four sisters, all older than he. Age and circumstance kept D. Pedro’s eldest sister apart from her brother. Six years D. Pedro’s senior, D. Maria da Glória, queen of Portugal since the middle of , lived a separate life, with her own establishment, within the palace. This pomp and circumstance was ill placed, since her throne was seized in April  by her uncle, the Infante D. Miguel. In July , when her brother was just two and a half, “the little Queen,” as diplomatic sources usually called her, was dispatched from Rio to Europe in the vain hope that her presence there would rally the

  

  , ‒ monarchs of Europe to her cause.85 Her absence from Rio lasted for more than a year, with the result that the young prince’s closest bonds were formed with his sisters D. Januária, D. Paula, and D. Francisca, born in , , and , respectively. Several factors influenced the nature of these bonds. Unlike the situation in ordinary families, D. Pedro resided apart from his sisters, so that the usual dynamics of sibling life, such as competition for parental affection and for the use of toys, did not exist. Further, D. Pedro was not just the male child, made superior by his sex, but also heir to the throne, to whom everyone (save his own father) had to defer. D. Pedro’s sisters were always deferential, even subservient, toward their brother.86 This attitude of deference and subservience was shared and indeed reinforced by the attendants and servants who formed the entourages of D. Pedro and his sisters. An episode involving D. Maria da Glória, recounted by Maria Graham, is revealing in this respect. She had always been accustomed, not only, to have little Black Slaves to play with & beat & tyrannize over, but a little White Girl, the Daughter of one of the ladies. I observed that in her rough play she not only kicked & beat her little Blacks but slap’d her white playmate (a small timid child) with the energy & spirit of a restless little tyrant. I had spoken privately to the mother of this  .     ,    Leopoldina = (1) Pedro I (2) = Amélia of Austria of Leuchtenburg (  ) Maria Amélia Maria = Ferdinand of da Glória Saxe-Coburg(Maria II of Gotha Portugal) (  )

Pedro V

Januária = Luigi count of Áquila (  )

Luis I = Maria Pia princess of Italy

Luigi

Pedro = Elizabeth Luís=Maria Pia countess of Bourbon Dobrzensky Sicily de Dobrzenicz

j

j

Felipe

Antônio

Francisca = François prince Pedro II = Teresa Cristina princess of of Joinville (  ) Naples (  )

Pierre Françoise duke of Penthièvre

Isabel = Gaston Count d'Eu (  )

Leopoldina = August of SaxeCoburg-Gotha (  )

José Luís = Matilda Pedro Augusto =Carolina princess Augusto archduchess of Bavaria of Austria

  

  , ‒ child, hoping that she would co-operate with me in correcting this improper practice, but she answered that she would put a child of hers to death who did not think it an honor to receive a blow from the Princess.”87

A similar, if perhaps overly harsh, observation about the influence of palace life on the young D. Pedro was made many years later by one of the emperor’s first biographers. “These ladies-in-waiting certainly did not mistreat the imperial child; but they did not possess a mother’s authority and concern which nothing can replace. They took their turns of duty during which each naturally made him her enfant gaté [spoilt child]. The under servants, by submitting to every whim of the Senhor Moço [Young Sire], ended up corrupting him.”88 Regrettably we know very little about the underservants who actually cared for D. Pedro, but their importance should not for that reason be underestimated. The servants, being in close and constant attendance on their imperial master, knew his character and his habits intimately. A clear hierarchy existed among the household staff, running from an elite composed of the imperial family’s personal or body servants [criados particulares] down to the blacks and mulattos, free and slave, who performed the menial tasks.89 D. Pedro’s wet nurse, Marie Catherine Equey, belonged to the elite. Of the many black and mulatto servants, the name of one has survived. Rafael, a black whose service as a soldier gained him employment at São Cristóvão, eventually became an all-purpose servant in constant attendance on the young prince, and he was to remain at court until his death in .90 Late in , when D. Pedro was approaching his fourth birthday, the external world for the first time intruded on his young life. There arrived from Europe a beautiful lady whom his father married the day she disembarked. The new empress proved to be as tender-hearted as she was attractive. Both father and son were captivated by her. She filled the void existing since D. Leopoldina’s death in December . That death had left the emperor with a sense of deep loss and enduring remorse. His infatuation with the marchioness of Santos might mask but could not dispel this loss. Within half a year of D. Leopoldina’s death, the emperor had decided to marry again. In June  an agent departed for Europe instructed to find a suitable princess. No reigning house was willing to sacrifice one of its daughters. The abysmal failure of the mission convinced even Pedro I that, as long as his entanglement with the marchioness of Santos continued, no match could be arranged. It was not, however, until August  that the favorite withdrew to her native province of São Paulo. Her elder daughter by the emperor, the duchess of Goiás, was removed to a convent school in Paris and never saw Brazil again. Breaking off the liaison did little to improve the emperor’s matri-

  

  , ‒ monial prospects, his personal reputation being so bad that no royal house would willingly offer him a bride. In the end his agents had to settle for a lady of semiroyal status.91 Amélie de Beauharnais, born on July , , was the fourth child of Eugène de Beauharnais, Napoleon I’s stepson and viceroy of the kingdom of Italy, and of Princess Augusta, a sister of the first king of Bavaria. After his stepfather’s downfall in , Eugène took the title of Duke of Leuchtenberg and settled with his family at Munich. His death in  left his offspring with an equivocal status and no certain prospects for the future.92 For Princess Augusta, who had strong ambitions for her children, marrying Amélie off to the emperor of Brazil provided the best possible prospect for asserting the Leuchtenberg family’s claims to royal status. The marriage contract was arranged without difficulty and Amélie’s relatives, the king of Bavaria and the emperor of Austria, gave their consent to the match. A wedding by proxy was celebrated with some pomp at Munich on August , . The bride, who two days earlier had turned seventeen, was given away by her uncle, Prince Karl Theodor of Bavaria. The next day the empress, accompanied by her elder brother August, set out for England, where she would meet D. Maria da Glória, the eldest of her five newly acquired stepchildren, and embark for Rio de Janeiro on the frigate Imperatriz.93 The bride’s grandmother expressed considerable doubt about the future facing D. Amélia, as she was to be known in Brazil. “Her deep sensibility, modesty, simplicity have bound me to her most tightly and have intensified my sadness at having to give her up forever. . . . Even now I have to cry when I think about this poor sacrificial lamb.”94 Before the wedding, the empress’s mother had warned her not to expect more than a life of service, forbearance, and tactful management. D. Amélia was admirably suited for such a role. She had refused to spend on her wedding ceremony the considerable sum sent by Pedro I for that purpose and instead gave the money as an endowment to a Munich orphanage.95 The frigate sighted the Brazilian coast on October , , well ahead of schedule, and the next day it sailed into Rio de Janeiro harbor. The emperor rushed down to the Naval Arsenal, where he boarded a steamboat that went out to tow in the Imperatriz. In the excitement of the spouses’ first encounter, no one took much notice of the four small children—“quite polite children”—who came on board the Imperatriz later in the day. It was D. Pedro’s introduction to his stepmother, a young woman notable for her dark beauty, striking elegance, and warmth of manner. The entire family had dinner together on board the ship. At noon the next day, under heavy rain, D. Amélia disembarked. The procession in which D. Pedro and his sisters took part was as magnificent as the bride’s unexpectedly early arrival permitted. Following a marriage service in the imperial chapel the couple went to the city palace, where they held a beija-mão

  

  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II’s stepmother, D. Amélia of Leuchtenberg

ceremony and attended a state banquet. The children were then dispatched home to São Cristóvão, while the newlyweds remained in the city palace.96 The empress entranced her husband from the moment he saw her. In her honor Pedro I founded a new order of chivalry, the order of the Rose. D. Amélia also won the hearts of her stepchildren. Her good looks and style were matched by her kindness and good sense. She devoted herself to securing the domestic well-being of her spouse and his offspring. Just a month after her arrival the French envoy reported to Paris: “It seems that the empress continues to exercise the same influence over the children of D. Pedro. The happy results are already apparent; considerable reforms have been made within the palace, order begins to reign there; the education of the young princesses is supervised and directed by the Empress herself.”97 The heir to the throne received the same care and attention that D. Amélia gave to the princesses. Her talent for creating a sense of family despite the vastness of the imperial palaces and the rigors of court etiquette won the devotion of the young prince. He soon came to call D. Amélia mamãe [mummy], and throughout the rest of his life he considered her to be his

  

  , ‒ mother.98 Her appeal was not simply maternal. In D. Pedro’s adult life, the ideal female, whom he ever sought, was dark-haired, vivacious, and intelligent, and noticeably older in years than he. For D. Pedro, who celebrated his fourth birthday on December , , the months following the marriage were a period of happiness, favorable to the development of a sense of identity. In February  the imperial family left Rio for its annual stay in the mountains to the north of the capital. The family’s destination was the fazenda of Côrrego Seco, an estate which was being purchased by the emperor.99 There the air was cool, the accommodation modest, and the way of life simple. D. Pedro began to make contact with the marvels of the outside world. Under his sisters’ teachers, he took his first lessons, learning the letters of the alphabet and the words for familiar objects in three languages—Portuguese, English, and French.100 D. Amélia’s lack of fluency in Portuguese meant that French served as a working language in the palace, and D. Pedro thus laid the foundation for his later mastery of French.101 His lessons also included religious pictures, to teach him the elements of Christianity, while he took dance lessons “to familiarize him with the necessity of regular lessons and, in addition, [to have] gymnastic exercise.” He now began to take part in family activities, being present one evening when his father played a flute duet with a visitor.102 It seemed that the prince was finally enjoying the settled childhood experienced by most ordinary mortals. Politics, however, intervened. The backers of D. Amélia’s marriage to Pedro I had hoped that the union would restore harmony in both the personal and the political spheres. Admirable as was D. Amélia’s success in transforming the lives of her spouse and offspring, she did not have the same ability to remedy the decline in the emperor’s political position, which had continued unchecked since the time of his first wife’s death. In , D. Miguel had ousted D. Maria from the throne of Portugal; the war with the United Provinces (later Argentina) ended in stalemate, with the republic of Uruguay being created out of the contested territory; and the national finances were mired in a horrendous deficit. Worse yet, the opponents of Pedro I’s system of rule had won notable successes in the elections held to choose the next Chamber of Deputies, due to convene in May .103 Pedro I’s appointment in December  of a new cabinet of ministers which sought to work with the legislature rather than to resist its demands seemed to promise well, as did the departure for Europe early in  of the emperor’s two most despised personal advisers. However, the session of the legislature which began in May and stretched on until November  made clear how complete was the collapse of trust and understanding between the emperor and the political forces dominating the Chamber of Deputies. Pedro I’s foes viewed him as being opposed to constitutional rule and, due to his birth in Por-

  

  , ‒ tugal, incapable of protecting and advancing the interests of Brazil as a separate nation-state. Conversely, the emperor was determined not to surrender control of his prerogatives as monarch and, above all, not to let the legislature have a voice as to whom he should name as ministers and councilors of state.104 As the year  came to an end, the confrontation intensified. A sense of imminent and unavoidable crisis gripped the political world. A state visit by the emperor and empress to Minas Gerais, north of Rio province, early in  did not succeed in gaining support for the regime in what was, politically, a crucial province. The failure of all attempts to construct a viable compromise, and in particular the inability of any cabinet to command the confidence of both monarch and opposition, played into the hands of those favoring radical solutions.105 In the middle of March , the British envoy at Rio reported to his government the existence of “a Party opposed to the Emperor and the Government.” The Journals of this Party have for some time past been directing the attention of the public to the necessity of a Brazilian and not a Portuguese sovereign and allusions, not to be misunderstood, are made to the expediency of calling the Prince Imperial to the Throne with a Regency. It is well known, however, that the principal aim of the party is the establishment of a Federative System of Government, or in other words, a Republic.”106

On March , , Pedro I replaced his ministers in a vain attempt to restore order to the streets of Rio de Janeiro, where rival gangs paraded and clashed. Failing conspicuously in this task, the new ministry rapidly forfeited the emperor’s confidence. In a mood of desperation and defiance, Pedro I dismissed the ministers on April , naming in their stead a cabinet composed entirely of his most trusted advisers. This act, coupled with the arrival in Rio of a regiment of troops from the south and the dismissal of the commander of the Rio garrison, confirmed the opposition leaders’ worst fears: a coup against the established order, a repetition of the emperor’s violent dissolution of the Constituent Assembly in November , was imminent.107 Their response was immediate. They ordered their followers out into the streets and sought to gain the garrison troops to their cause. By the afternoon of April , , a huge crowd, many armed, occupied the Campo de Santa Ana, an open space near the center of Rio. In the evening hours, the garrison troops, encouraged by their officers, joined what had become a popular uprising against the emperor and his actions. Meanwhile, at the São Cristóvão palace where the imperial family was then residing, Pedro I consistently rejected the crowd’s reiterated demand that he restore the dismissed ministers to office. The British and French envoys, urgently summoned

  

  , ‒ to the palace at midnight, “found His Majesty attended by his Ministers, by those members of his Household whose attachment remained unshaken, but few in number, and by a part of the Imperial Body Guard.” While possible courses of action were being hastily discussed, “an aide-de-camp entered to announce that” the imperial body guard “had marched to Rio without orders, not leaving even a Sentinel to guard the Avenues to the Palace! Immediately after another message arrived from town [from the assembled crowds], . . . , that if the Emperor did not concede to their demands before morning they would find the means of forming a government according to their wishes.”108 In the face of these developments Pedro I characteristically took the simplest and most direct course. He decided to resolve the crisis by abdicating in favor of his five-year-old son. There was, after all, another throne to redeem in Portugal. No argument could dissuade him from immediate action. Withdrawing into his study, he wrote out his renunciation of the throne and sent it off to the city. He then requested refuge for himself, his wife, and D. Maria da Glória on board the European warships anchored in Rio harbor and a safe passage to Europe. By 5: .. on April , , the former monarch and his party had reached the São Cristóvão landing stage, there to be taken off in boats by British and French sailors. In the palace they left behind a small boy with blond hair and blue eyes. As he slept peacefully, undisturbed by the turmoil of the night, this five-yearold child became the new emperor of Brazil.109

  

 

No Safety Here, 1831–40

 My dear Father and My Lord, When I got up and could not find Y. I. M. and Mama in order to kiss your hand, I could not contain myself and I still cannot. My dear father, I beg Y. I. M. never to forget this your child who will always show obedience, respect and love for the best of fathers so early lost to your child respectfully kisses your august hands.1

T

This letter was originally written out in pencil and Pedro II then began to ink the text, but he reached only the word “kiss.” As he explained later in a second, dictated letter, “I began to write to Y.I.M. in my own hand, but I could not finish it, because I began to cry and my hand trembled and I could not. I pray to heaven every day for the best of fathers whom to my disgrace I have lost so early. I will always be your obedient child and I will follow the orders of my august father.”2 These two letters convey the immediate reaction of Pedro II and his sisters to the events of April , . The courtiers and servants at São Cristóvão palace could provide the young children with scant comfort. Their own future was at risk. The court under Pedro I had been the object of heated attacks by the opposition. No one could be sure just what the eventual outcome of the revolt would be. Its original aim had been to replace Pedro I as emperor by his son. However, as April  dawned, the uprising had become nothing less than a popular movement. The crowd, armed and exhilarated, might support more radical goals—a republic and fundamental social change. The troops were out of control, fraternizing with the crowd. No government existed. Fear proved a powerful force for unity and moderation. The specter of anar-

  

  , ‒ chy silenced advocates of a republic. Enmities and quarrels suspended, politicians rallied behind the monarchy, which guaranteed the existing social order. On the morning of April , the members of the legislature then in Rio de Janeiro assembled in the Senate building. They hastily elected three men to act as interim regents, ruling in Pedro II’s name, until the next session of the legislature in May could choose a permanent regency. A new ministry was immediately named. The legislators also issued a proclamation designed to restore calm and secure obedience to the regime: As of the Seventh of April , our political existence has begun, Brazil will henceforward belong to Brazilians and will be free. Fellow Citizens! We now have a country, we now have a monarch, the symbol of our union and of the integrity of the Empire—one who educated among us can receive almost from the cradle the first lessons of American liberty and learn to love Brazil, where he first drew breath. The fatal prospect of anarchy and the dissolution of the provinces has disappeared.3

The magnitude of the emergency and the lack of any practical alternative to the existing regime made the young emperor indispensable to the politicians. The minister of the empire (interior) was sent at once to São Cristóvão to take charge of Pedro II and his sisters and to ensure their security and well-being.4 The interim government found it very difficult to restore calm in the city and to establish its authority. “Large bodies of the populace, armed, continue to parade the streets,” the British envoy noted, “and a renewal of the past scenes of tumult may, upon the slightest cause, take place.”5 Tensions were kept high by the continuing presence of the former emperor on board a British frigate in Rio harbor. In these circumstances the regents did not hesitate to use the new monarch to bolster their credibility. On the morning of April , Pedro II, not yet five and a half years old, left São Cristóvão in a state coach accompanied by his governess, D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães. As the coach went by the Campo de Santa Ana he received a tumultuous welcome from the enormous crowd. D. Mariana had continuously to instruct him: “Emperor, wave; wave, Emperor.” So enthusiastic was the popular response that, when the procession reached the city itself, the crowd unharnessed the horses and dragged the carriage through the streets to the imperial chapel, where a celebratory Mass was to be held.6 “We were at the [city] palace a little after mid day. The young emperor did not however arrive at the chapel until one thirty,” the Austrian envoy, Baron Daiser, reported. “The coach having reached the front of the church, a man of the people, since there were present neither courtiers, nor guards, nor servants, picked up the emperor, put him on his shoulder and in this fashion carried him into the church. The people cheered him to the echo, smothered him with

  

  , ‒ caresses, and kissed his hands and even his face.” After the Mass was finished, the emperor went with the regents to the palace. “A review of the troops took place, their ranks interspersed with armed common folk, and then came some  to  of the same, also armed but by themselves, without any soldiers.” The Austrian envoy concluded his report: “After a long interval we were admitted to the audience chamber. The emperor was on the throne. A table had been placed beside him to fill up the space. On leaving the palace we were with difficulty able to traverse the crowd composed of all classes and all colors. It was not until  o’clock that we returned from this sad and unpleasant ceremony.”7 The Austrian minister being the representative of an autocratic monarch, Francis I, who was also the young boy’s grandfather, his reaction was necessarily one of despondency and alarm. His fears were shared by D. Mariana and the court ladies. Concerned that popular elements might burst into the city palace and seize the child emperor, they remained awake all that night, determined to protect their charge.8 Popular unrest did not begin to abate until after the former emperor sailed for Europe on April . The formal acclamation of Pedro II as emperor took place the next day. This ceremony at the Campo de Santa Ana was accompanied by the distribution of swords of honor and civic crowns to soldiers and civilians involved in the rising. By the end of the month the crowd had finally been induced to surrender its arms and leave the Campo de Santa Ana.9 The garrison troops had been coaxed back to their barracks. The immediate emergency was over, although the city could not be termed tranquil. Attention turned to the debates of the national legislature, which met on May , and to the selection of the three permanent regents who would rule in Pedro II’s name until he came of age on December , , at the age of eighteen. For the boy monarch and his sisters life resumed something like its normal round. Their lessons continued under the same teachers as before, and they made outings with their entourage to a small palace on Botafogo beach, on the southern edge of the city.10 The events of April  were decisive in shaping both Pedro II’s fate and his personality. Until that moment, his life had contained nothing that distinguished him from other royalty. The loss of his mother was not unusual in terms of the period, and D. Amélia had provided him with an ideal replacement. April  changed everything. The uprising which had brought Pedro II to the throne made him an orphan. His father and his stepmother vanished, a deprivation that was sudden and total. He was not even permitted to take a last farewell of his father, D. Amélia, or D. Maria da Glória in the days before they sailed for Europe. In fact, he was never to see his father and D. Maria da Glória again. D. Amélia, whom he cherished as his true mother, he was not to meet again for forty years, in .11 Several factors intensified the young child’s loss. As monarch he was set

  

  , ‒ apart from all other mortals save for his relatives. Except for three elder sisters, who were all children like himself, he had no relatives living in Brazil. The effect of his parents’ departure was to destroy his family and, as the letters written by Pedro to his father, mother, and elder sister show, the impact of this deprivation on his personal development was severe. Monarchs are by definition isolated individuals, depending utterly on family members and intimates for informal relationships that provide a sense of belonging and fulfillment. Such relationships play a particularly significant role in childhood for the formation of self. The sudden loss of his family was to haunt Pedro II throughout his life, especially since his memory did not retain a clear visual image of his parents. On January , , he noted about the equestrian statue of Pedro I being erected at Rio: “It is huge and very lifelike, according to what those who knew my Father say, although, judging from the portraits, his profile does not seem correct to me.”12 Anyone who had known Pedro II’s parents attracted his interest throughout his life. He sought, by means of constant correspondence with his relatives in Europe, to re-create the family bonds sundered on April , .13 A search for what A. E. Housman termed “the land of lost content” was to be a recurring motif in the emperor’s life and one that shaped his adult character. The extent of Pedro II’s loss was magnified by the changes in the Côrte e Casa produced by his father’s abdication. The former emperor, in the days before he sailed for Europe, was determined to take away with him as much cash and portable wealth as he could assemble. Eager to speed his departure from Brazil, the interim regents made no attempt to thwart D. Pedro’s goal. The removal of “gold and silver objects” was so thorough, the Austrian envoy alleged, that “there remains in the imperial palace but one silver spoon.”14 Although much of value was in fact left behind, the comment was in some ways exact. The disappearance of so many familiar objects—furniture, pictures, and ornaments—was for the children a continual reminder of the loss they had suffered. The impact on Pedro II and his three sisters of their parents’ departure might have been lessened if the imperial household in which they lived had been, in the ensuing years, maintained intact, exempt from the demands of the outside world. There existed small likelihood of such isolation. Pedro II had now become the sovereign of Brazil, and his person embodied the political order. The act taken by his father on April  ensured that the court would become embroiled in politics. D. Pedro had named José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva, a former minister and now a deputy, to serve as tutor [guardian] of his children.15 During the emperor’s minority, the three regents would act for Pedro II in his political capacity—assenting to laws, selecting ministers, and signing decrees. The guardian would act for the emperor in his personal and civil capacity, replacing his father and so controlling his upbringing, arranging his education, and

  

  , ‒ superintending his household. Although not overtly political, the office of guardian was one of considerable influence. It was for this very reason that Pedro I, desiring to protect his son from subversive influences during the latter’s long minority, named a guardian who was known for his belief in monarchy and for his tenacity in defending what he believed. In selecting José Bonifácio, D. Pedro I was turning to his own past. During  and , when the struggle to establish Brazil as an independent nation-state was at its most critical, José Bonifácio had served as chief minister for Pedro I and had defeated all the new Empire’s foes. In  the former emperor clearly expected that José Bonifácio would perform the same role for his son.16 The action of the former emperor was open to several grave objections, both legal and personal. The document nominating José Bonifácio to be guardian bore the date of April , , but clearly it had been signed after Pedro I’s abdication. It could be argued that, by abdicating, the emperor had forfeited all authority over his successor. Further, the article of the  constitution which authorized the monarch to appoint a guardian for his successor mentioned only appointments made by a will. Pedro I’s nomination of José Bonifácio could therefore be regarded as but another of the highhanded and unconstitutional acts which had made the former emperor so disliked and distrusted.17 What intensified controversy over the nomination was José Bonifácio’s character and past conduct. A man of considerable capacity, great administrative experience, and immense self-confidence, José Bonifácio had always been intensely partisan in his dealings, overbearing with his rivals, and vindictive toward his opponents. An inability to separate the public interest from his own and his kinfolk’s advantage intensified the hostility felt toward him and his two brothers, who formed a family faction based on their native province of São Paulo. The Andrada brothers were in many ways outsiders. In their youth all had attended Coimbra University in Portugal and after graduation had secured posts in the royal government. The movement for Brazilian independence gave the brothers the power and recognition previously denied them, but their overweening ambition had led to their deportation to France following the dissolution of the Constituent Assembly in November . Neither his age (he was approaching seventy in ) nor his five-year exile from Brazil had lessened José Bonifácio’s hunger for power. On his return to Brazil in  he and his brothers had reentered politics, and all three of them had been elected to the Chamber of Deputies which convened in .18 Age, personality, and political ambition all made José Bonifácio a very poor choice to be the young emperor’s guardian. Instead of seeking to keep the palace apart from partisan quarrels, José Bonifácio used his post as a vehicle for his own advancement and thus a focus for intrigue and controversy. Self-interest-

  

  , ‒

Figure . José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva, Pedro II’s guardian, ‒

ed as those opposing José Bonifácio’s appointment to be guardian may have been, they did possess solid reasons for refusing to accept the former emperor’s decree. The matter was referred to the forthcoming session of the legislature. The interim regents named as acting guardian the marquis of Itanhaem, a veteran member of the court. In such circumstances a more cautious man than José Bonifácio might have found it prudent to decline the appointment. However, the former emperor, before sailing for Europe, had reaffirmed his selection of José Bonifácio as guardian and had written a letter to the legislature justifying his action. José Bonifácio assured his former sovereign that, “even if I cannot secure confirmation from the regency and the legislature, I will not as a private citizen fail for one moment to maintain a watch over his [Pedro II’s] future happiness.”19 There the dispute rested until the legislature convened in May . The acting regents’ refusal to acknowledge the former emperor’s right to name a guardian for Pedro II was endorsed on June  by the Chamber of Deputies, an act which José Bonifácio denounced in a public protest. The legislature did not, however, take immediate action to supply the emperor with a guardian. It made its first order of business the definition of the powers to be held by the permanent regents acting for Pedro II and the selection of those regents. The law passed by the chambers on June  denied the permanent regents most of the powers conferred on the monarch by the constitution. The

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  , ‒ legislature then proceeded to the choice of the new regents.20 José Bonifácio’s two brothers were candidates, but, despite active campaigns, “the Party of the Andradas has been disappointed in their expectations,” as the British chargé d’affaires reported to his government.21 The three permanent regents selected on June  were all supporters of the new regime but not radical in their political views. For the young emperor and his sisters, life went on without much change. Early in July the Austrian envoy, Baron Daiser, who as the representative of Pedro II’s grandfather, the emperor Francis I, claimed rights of direct access to the monarch, paid his first visit to the Paço da Cidade, where he saw the four children in turn. “His Majesty the Emperor took me by the hand in order to ask me to sit down. He expresses himself quite well in French for his age and asked me: ‘How is Grandfather doing?’” After the interviews Baron Daiser met with D. Mariana, the emperor’s governess, who “had tears in her eyes when she saw me appear.” “She told me that she could not complain about the Regency, which had shown every possible respect and attention; that the children lacked nothing, that they were even, in several ways (food for example), better treated than formerly; and that if this state of affairs continued, she could assure me that their upbringing would not suffer from the recent changes.”22 The improvements reported by D. Mariana were not surprising. At the start of June the government had embarked on a reorganization and a purge of the palaces and their personnel. New officials were named, some forty household servants were dismissed, and the staff in the palace stables was sharply reduced. Employees had to sign for their pay, which meant that absenteeism was no longer possible.23 It is no wonder that the quality of service in the imperial household showed a marked change for the better. The maintenance of these improvements would depend on the abilities of whomever was chosen by the legislature to be the emperor’s guardian. The election took place on July . The outcome showed that the legislators, having asserted their right to select the guardian, were willing to respect the former emperor’s desires. José Bonifácio was named to the post by a wide margin of votes over the individual preferred by the new government. Political considerations played a role in the decision. Foreign diplomats agreed that a desire to offer concessions to the Andrada brothers and not to drive them into open opposition influenced many deputies. A senator told the French envoy that “a sort of conspiracy had been necessary among the moderate members of both chambers, not that, in his view, Mr. d’Andrade may be, in many respects, the person most suited for this high and delicate task.”24 José Bonifácio was strongly urged by his two brothers not to accept the post, which they viewed as little more than a sop. His solemn undertaking to the for-

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  , ‒ mer emperor and the remonstrances of the Austrian envoy among others led José Bonifácio to take up the appointment late in July.25 The regents, however, delayed promulgation of the law defining the duties of the guardian until nearly the middle of August, and José Bonifácio did not assume his post until almost the end of the month.26 These weeks of change and controversy intruded into the personal world of Pedro II and his sisters. The purge of household personnel removed both the director of the children’s studies and their long-time English teacher, the latter simply because he was not a Brazilian citizen. This waves of dismissals and the wrangling over who was to be guardian created an atmosphere of fear and uneasiness at court, an insecurity heightened by a virtual breakdown of law and order in Rio de Janeiro during the month of July. The army units and the police mutinied on July . The streets were for some days controlled by armed bands demanding radical changes. What reliable forces the government did command were concentrated around the city palace, where the emperor and his sisters were living. Only with the utmost difficulty was the government able to reestablish a precarious control over the national capital.27 The situation remained fraught with danger for several months. In an attempt to secure its position, the regime dissolved the existing militia units and replaced them with the National Guard, a force for the maintenance of law and order drawn from its own supporters.28 No less uncertain were conditions within the court. Installed as guardian to the young emperor, José Bonifácio lost no time in asserting his authority, both in respect to the government and to the court. Despite the express prohibition contained in the law under which he had been appointed, he continued to sit as a deputy and to participate in politics. In October José Bonifácio attempted to involve members of the diplomatic corps in a maneuver against the regency by alleging the existence of a plot to seize both the imperial family and the government and to remove them from Rio.29 Inside the court, José Bonifácio brooked no challenge to his omnipotence as guardian. He was quick to take umbrage with those who disputed his prerogatives or challenged his powers, and his dictatorial ways threatened entrenched interests at court. In particular, he clashed with D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães, who, as first lady of the emperor’s bedchamber and supported by numerous relatives, had for several years enjoyed considerable influence in court affairs. Early in  the guardian named an ally, the countess of Itapagipe, to the post of first lady, but D. Mariana and her allies retained their other appointments.30 The consequence was that life at court became increasingly factionalized and uneasy. None of these developments much affected the daily routine of Pedro II and his sisters. The reports of the Austrian envoy, who kept a close watch on the

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  , ‒ health and activities of the children, show no alarm about their condition. When sending a portrait of Pedro II to Vienna, Baron Daiser commented that “usually he is very cheerful and has a laughing air.” The only development of note was that, now approaching his sixth birthday, he began to take riding lessons. The sole matter to concern the Austrian envoy was the condition of José Bonifácio. He was frequently ill and toward the end of  suffered a stroke. Both his physical and intellectual decline were visible.31 The deterioration in the guardian’s condition does much to explain his complicity in two armed uprisings that occurred in the national capital in April . A heterogeneous group of conspirators that included José Bonifácio’s two brothers tried to seize power from the regents. In both cases the government received sufficient forewarning to organize effective resistance. Following the first rising, the regents, fearing for the security of the imperial family, ordered José Bonifácio to bring the emperor and his sisters from São Cristóvão to the city palace, so as to ensure their safety. This order the guardian refused to obey, claiming that only the legislature could give him orders. Not until April  did he give way. Two days later the second revolt broke out, with its center at São Cristóvão itself. “The culpability of the guardian is patent,” reported the Austrian envoy, so much so that the government introduced a motion in the legislature for José Bonifácio’s dismissal.32 The guardian was thenceforth subjected to an unrestrained and unrelenting press campaign of personal vilification and denunciation.33 The proposal to dismiss José Bonifácio passed the Chamber of Deputies by a wide margin but on July  failed in the Senate by a single vote. This narrow escape left the political scene in stalemate. At the end of July the regents and ministers tried to create a sudden crisis and thereby rush the Chamber of Deputies into declaring itself a national convention and enacting a new, federalist constitution. This ill-advised maneuver failed. It left the political forces previously supporting the regime badly divided.34 An atmosphere of uncertainty and instability prevailed. The effect upon José Bonifácio of his narrow escape from dismissal and the press campaign against him was to create a mood of paranoia, a sense of being besieged. This outlook was compounded by the continued decline in his physical condition and even more in his mental powers. After briefly considering resignation at the end of May , he determined to persevere at his post. His foes appeared to him at once contemptible and ruthless. To his mind they would flinch at no measure against him and his charges.35 Indicative of this siege mentality was the Austrian envoy’s complaint, made in the middle of April , that senior courtiers would no longer inform him about the condition of the emperor and the princesses, forcing him to bribe the

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  , ‒ underservants for the news he needed to send to the children’s grandfather in Vienna.36 Two months later, in the middle of July, at the time of the crucial vote in the Senate on José Bonifácio’s dismissal, Baron Daiser could not conceal his disquiet about conditions at court: What are even more regrettable are the intrigues which reign inside the imperial palace which contains about as many parties as exist in the city. The ladies [in waiting], above all those belonging to the family of Madame de Magalhães, are in open opposition to the guardian and the mordomo whom he has named. The motive for this is unfortunately trite. They are no longer permitted to keep the accounts for the maintenance of the emperor and his sisters, because it is claimed they have profited from doing so. The August Children are witnesses to all these cabals and intrigues, which are discussed in their presence without the least inhibition. At meetings held in the palace with newspaper editors, articles are concocted against José Bonifácio. He knows about them but is too feeble to put a stop to all this scheming. Accordingly I go to the Palace only to present my respects to the imperial family and very rarely do I pay visits there. This state of affairs cannot continue without having the most distressing effects.37

To understand the impact that this state of affairs had on a boy aged six, it is important to understand the nature of his character. Pedro II himself later wrote, in a moment of rare candor, that “even from my childhood I was more concerned with myself than with the objects around me—my sisters at times called me strange—and as I was growing up and opening my eyes to the world I became convinced, through an experience that was in certain cases quite disagreeable, that such study is never sufficient.”38 Pedro II was not, in other words, someone who by nature felt at ease with the world. The unexpected aroused no excitement. At the start of , when sending the emperor’s portrait to Vienna (Figure 8), the Austrian envoy commented: “The facial expression is too serious, although it is precisely the look which the young prince assumes on being approached by someone he does not ordinarily know.”39 By the middle of  the narrow world surrounding Pedro II had become increasingly insecure. The only means available to him for holding that world at bay lay within himself. Learning, and above all books, opened for the child another and more friendly existence. An aptitude for learning was a quality that Brazilians, or at least the Brazilians concerned with the future of their country, desired in their new ruler. It was the former emperor himself, in a letter written to his son in March , who stated most dramatically the necessity for instruction and culture.

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  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II at the age of six, wearing the farda imperial [court dress] of Pedro I’s reign and the grand cross of the order of the Cruzeiro [Southern Cross]. The painting was sent to Emperor Francis I of Austria

The era in which princes were respected solely because they are simply princes has ended; in the century in which we live, in which the peoples are quite well informed of their rights, it is necessary that princes should be and also should know that they are men and not divinities, that for them knowledge and good sense are indispensable so that they are the more quickly loved than respected. The respect of a free people for their ruler ought to be born of the conviction which they hold that their ruler is capable of making them achieve that level of felicity they aspire to; and if such is not the case, unhappy ruler, unhappy people.40

If more humble commentators used a less florid language, they did not for that reason hold any less fervently a belief that education could and would endow a monarch with wisdom and good judgment, qualities indispensable for those chosen by Providence to govern. The young monarch required little or no encouragement from those charged with his upbringing to devote himself to study. Books and learning attracted him from his first acquaintance with them. As early as  his applica-

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  , ‒ tion as a student was commended.41 In October , D. Mariana de Verna, writing to the former emperor in Europe, painted a glowing picture of his son: “That child, remarkable in every respect, is very advanced, he is reading Portuguese almost unaided, he is now going to learn French . . . ; all this before he is six years old.” Pedro II’s liking for study was such that he took his lessons with his elder sisters and, when illness prevented his attendance, “he burst into tears and the class had to be moved to his room and, in spite of having a swollen face, he did not miss a single lesson without anyone having to order or persuade him.”42 What may have enhanced the appeal of his lessons for Pedro II was the fact that none of his instructors resided at the court, and only one of the five can be termed a courtier. They came three times a week to the palace to give Pedro II and his sisters their lessons, and thus, both spatially and psychologically, they existed outside his narrow and insecure world. The subjects they taught were standard for young children in the early nineteenth century: writing and geography, French, English, painting, and dance. The emperor’s instructors were not teachers by profession, and none of them seem to have been notably gifted. Certainly none of them captured Pedro II’s enduring loyalty as some of his subsequent teachers were to do.43 On December , , the emperor turned seven, and, following the traditions of the Portuguese court, he was removed from the control of his ladies and placed under the charge of an aio [supervisor] to guide his upbringing and oversee his education. José Bonifácio selected for this post Francisco Maria Teles, a veador [gentleman usher] whose loyalty to the guardian seems to have been his principal qualification for the post. Certainly Teles has left no mark in history. That the new aio acted as a model for the young emperor may be doubted.44 The Austrian envoy reported, at the end of , that the person whom Pedro II “is most attached to and only takes guidance from” was Richard Shelley, English born and originally a groom in the palace stables, who was married to a niece of D. Mariana and had risen to be a personal servant of the former emperor. Shelley was by all accounts genuinely devoted to his young master and to his interests. When Pedro II refused to take his prescribed medicine, Shelley would swallow some of the remedy first and so convince his young charge. In Baron Daiser’s opinion, Shelley “in several respects is worth more than the majority of the people presently in service on the emperor.”45 Shelley clearly served at this stage in Pedro II’s life as a substitute for his absent father. The lack of a normal family life made the emperor and his sisters particularly close and very dependent on each other. The second oldest of the three sisters living in Rio de Janeiro was D. Paula, two years senior to Pedro II. The princess had, since her early years, been sickly, often unable to do her lessons. From the

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  , ‒ middle of  her health improved substantially. She grew rapidly and was able to lead an active life. At the end of , however, she was struck down by what was probably meningitis; after three weeks in agony she died, on January , .46 The loss of D. Paula was reason for both public and private concern. Article  of the  constitution designated Pedro I’s children, first male and then female, as heirs to the imperial throne, while article  declared that “no foreigner could succeed to the crown of the Empire of Brazil.” D. Paula’s death left only D. Januária and D. Francisca as possible successors to Pedro II.47 In personal terms, their sister’s disappearance caused deep distress to the surviving children. Her death intensified their sense of insecurity. The political situation in Brazil showed no improvement. The regency that governed in the emperor’s name commanded little respect or authority. The property owners and merchants in Brazil’s major cities gave their support to the regime only because they saw no better alternative. The regency’s opponents grew in number and in boldness. A complicating factor was the reviving prestige of Pedro I. In July  he had landed at the mouth of the River Douro and seized Porto, the second city in Portugal, which his troops held against repeated attacks by D. Miguel’s army. As the months went by, the likelihood increased of Pedro I’s eventual triumph, restoring his daughter to the throne of Portugal. His successes, the dimming of resentments against him through the passage of time, and the ineffectiveness of the existing regime made attractive the idea that he should be summoned back to Brazil to govern as regent for his son until the latter came of age at the end of .48 Conspicuous among the political interests who favored the former emperor’s recall were the Andrada brothers and their faction. As the Austrian envoy observed, “The Andradas and their followers (regardless of their immediate goals) intrigue and will always intrigue against any situation in which they are not called to play a leading role.”49 Antônio Carlos, the second Andrada brother, was a principal organizer of a petition requesting that Pedro I assume the regency. The prospect of the former emperor’s landing on the shores of Brazil at the head of a battle-hardened and devoted army induced near panic among the supporters of the existing regency. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when in March  a revolt against the regency regime in Minas Gerais seized the provincial capital and deposed the province’s president. Although the uprising was rapidly suppressed, it seemed a harbinger of worse to come. Several courtiers, including one of D. Mariana’s nephews, had participated, and the involvement of several leading politicians was suspected. The supporters of the regency, made desperate by their apprehensions, became more willing to employ radical action against their foes.50

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  , ‒ The rising level of hostility directed against those supporting Pedro I’s return fed the persecution mania of José Bonifácio, who was always ready to impute the worst to his foes. The guardian suspected plots on every side, aimed as much against his young charges as against himself. Late in March  he transferred the children from São Cristóvão to the city palace, ostensibly because the first residence was unhealthy. As the Austrian envoy pointed out, the city palace was in fact more unsanitary, and living conditions there were far worse. “The rooms occupied by the royal children are small and low ceilinged.” “The palace is very small and there is neither garden nor even a courtyard; thus it can be said that the Children are in a sort of prison, from which they rarely go out, due to a want of the means of transport and a lack of anywhere to visit.”51 So obviously detrimental was this inactivity and seclusion to the children’s health that Baron Daiser was forced to intervene. He rented a mansion facing Botafogo Bay and persuaded the guardian to take the emperor and his sisters for visits there, pointing out that the same residence had already been used for that purpose in the weeks following April , . The maneuver of the Austrian envoy proved less effective than he had hoped. José Bonifácio insisted that his charges be escorted on such excursions by a large cortège, which was hard to assemble. “He never permits them to go out save in his company, which his age and his infirmities prevent him from doing frequently. In this way he voluntarily creates difficulties from which his August Charges suffer.”52 In September, having observed the emperor and his sisters at a party celebrating independence day, the French envoy commented on Pedro II: “The paleness of his skin does not indicate good health.” He added, with pardonable exaggeration, “The children take no exercise during the six months of the year they reside in the city.”53 It was not just in respect to their physical health that the guardian’s charges suffered. Little able to separate public and personal interest, José Bonifácio believed that the future of the monarchy depended on his own continuance as guardian. He therefore bombarded the children with invective against the regents and the ministers, decrying their unspeakable misdeeds and denouncing their sinister schemes. The French envoy noted that “at a recent court reception which the regents and the ministers attended the emperor and the princesses said nothing to them,” because the guardian “inspires them with the greatest hatred of everyone who forms the present government.”54 Inspires them with “terror” might be a more apt description than inspires them with “hatred,” since José Bonifácio dwelt on the dangers of the children’s being kidnapped by the existing government and spirited away to the provinces of São Paulo or Minas Gerais. The guardian did more than talk. Early in August  he replaced D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães with the countess of Itapagipe as the lady in charge of the emperor’s chamber, and in October he dismissed her daughter, D. Maria

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  , ‒ Antônia de Verna Magalhaes, as lady in charge of princess D. Francisca.55 Both mother and daughter were forbidden to attend the court. On the evening of September , José Bonifácio urgently summoned the justices of the peace for Rio de Janeiro to the city palace, announcing that the regency intended to seize the emperor and his two sisters. The judges arrived to find the palace surrounded by armed citizens who had responded to the guardian’s call and who remained in position for several hours. The regents and ministers understandably feared the launching of a coup d’état against them, but, following a night of suspense, nothing happened. The only outcome was a deepening of suspicions and tensions.56 These physical and emotional pressures took their toll on the young emperor. On October , following a party at which the eight-year-old ate heavily, he fell ill of indigestion and began vomiting. That evening strong convulsions with a high fever rendered him unconscious for almost five hours. So critical was Pedro II’s condition that José Bonifácio sent urgently for the Austrian and French envoys, who arrived at five in the morning. Immediate danger of death had by then passed. When Baron Daiser came back some hours later, he found the emperor still ill and his mind wandering. That night the symptoms returned— fits, fever, hallucinations, and continual thirst. The remedies used by the doctors and described by the Austrian envoy were almost as horrific as the sickness itself. Somehow the emperor survived. By October  the fever was over, leaving him exhausted and extremely weak. He began a prolonged convalescence.57 The emperor’s malady both exemplified and paralleled the febrile condition of the body politic. Supporters of the former emperor became bolder and more vocal. In May , Antônio Carlos, the guardian’s brother, had sailed for Europe, carrying with him “a petition signed by a large number of heads of family (it is claimed , of them but this I most strongly doubt) by which the ex-emperor is asked to return.”58 At the end of July the constitutionalist forces captured Lisbon, and there the former emperor established himself as regent for his daughter, D. Maria da Glória. This news arrived at Rio early in October and, at the same time, it was learned that Antônio Carlos was about to present his petition to the former emperor.59 Meanwhile, in the Brazilian capital itself, the Sociedade Militar [Military Association] had been formed, composed of senior army officers who had made their careers under Pedro I. “At Rio de Janeiro everyone is convinced that he will return,” the French envoy reported. “The news from Europe confirms this belief.”60 In fact, developments in Europe confirmed no such thing. In the middle of September , Antônio Carlos reached Lisbon, met the former emperor, and delivered his petition. Pedro I made clear that only a formal request from the town councils backed by a vote of the national legislature would induce him to

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  , ‒ act as regent for his son.61 Antônio Carlos not only kept silent on this refusal but, when the former emperor’s decision was reported in the British press, he published a statement denying that his visit to Europe had any political purpose. Despite this confusion, one point was clear to the supporters of the regency ruling Brazil in the name of Pedro II. Even if the former emperor had undertaken to return, he would not do so in the near future. The moment for action had come, and desperation gave them courage. On December  a crowd smashed up the premises of the Sociedade Militar, destroyed the two presses publishing journals supporting Pedro I’s return, and broke the windows of those favoring that cause. The government closed down the Military Association.62 These measures provoked no response and emboldened the government. José Bonifácio had been in constant contact with the leaders of the Military Association. When the Austrian and French envoys were called to the city palace at the crisis of the emperor’s illness, they found the guardian in conference with the society’s president.63 The palace of São Cristóvão, to which Pedro II had been moved for his convalescence, reputedly served as the headquarters for those plotting for Pedro I’s return and as a storage place for arms and munitions. Encouraged by their success in destroying the Sociedade Militar, the ministers determined to move against the guardian. José Bonifácio rejected with scorn suggestions that he voluntarily step down on grounds of health.64 On December , , the regents signed a decree suspending José Bonifácio from his functions until the General Assembly reviewed the question. To serve as provisional guardian they named the marquis of Itanhaem, who had served in that capacity from April to August of .65 A large military force accompanied the justices of the peace charged with executing the decree. Arriving at São Cristóvão, the force surrounded the palace grounds. José Bonifácio refused to recognize the justices’ competence, demanding a direct order from the regents. While such a document was being sought, the senior justice of the peace brought the troops into the palace forecourt, where they were stationed with drawn swords. At this point the marquis of Itanhaem arrived. José Bonifácio allowed him to assume control of the emperor and his sisters. Itanhaem took the children away to lunch. In their absence two senior military officers sent by the regency made clear to José Bonifácio that he must give up his post. He consented to yield only under compulsion, demanding to be arrested and held in custody. He was removed under guard to his room.66 At this moment, the Austrian envoy, having learnt of the government’s action, arrived at the palace. He found the troops lined up in the forecourt and the justices of the peace gathered on the palace verandah. A senior justice informed him of what had happened. “At this very moment the emperor appeared with the princesses; I first went up to the August Children, and I

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  , ‒ sought to reassure them, perceiving that they were somewhat upset, although very pleased to see me appear. I spoke next to the ladies [in waiting] whom I observed were all in tears, and I asked them to take control of themselves and not to upset the children’s emotions by complaints and weeping that served no further purpose, but instead to inspire them with courage.”67 The coup thus ended not in blood but in tears. The ministers could scarcely credit their triumph and wasted not an hour in consolidating their position. Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho, the minister of justice, wrote posthaste to D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães: Congratulations, Madame, it was a gamble, but we brought the colossus down. The conspiracy would have been ready for action any day now and they even distributed two days ago  thousand cartridges and some guns. It was all discovered and prevented in time. The ex-guardian resisted both the order and the decree of the regents, and it was necessary to use force and to arrest him. It would be good if you came today to my house, so that we may talk with the new guardian about summoning you to the palace, since there is great need that the monarch be attended by someone who is his friend and is trustworthy. I have no time for more. . . . PS The imperial family is coming today to reside in the city palace, and we who are here at the hour I write are going out to meet them on the road, and to give them a triumphal entry. Now they will know the love that the Brazilian people bear them. Happiness is general.68

Moving the emperor and his sisters to the security of the city palace was but the first step in reshaping the court. Francisco Maria Teles was dismissed out of hand as the emperor’s aio or supervisor. The countess of Itapagipe was replaced as first lady by the faithful D. Mariana, whose relatives were reinstated as ladiesin-waiting. Four court officials and a large number of lesser servants were dismissed and forbidden entry to the court. Most important of all, the post of mordomo, the official charged with the finances and the possessions of the emperor, was given to Paulo Barbosa da Silva.69 This purge brought to an end an open struggle for power at court which had begun with José Bonifácio’s appointment as guardian in August . The emotional effects of more than two years of conflict on the young emperor and his sisters were considerable. The French envoy reported home about the ouster of José Bonifácio: “The emperor did not show the least emotion. He was, however, pleased to see his former governess Dona Mariana again. . . . The princesses seemed more disturbed.”70 The taciturnity of Pedro II masked a deep and lasting trauma—a fear and mistrust of the outside world and a dislike of change. A number of years later, commenting on a parade held to honor his fifteenth birth-

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  , ‒ day, he noted that “the trumpet sounded its call which formerly used to terrify me, and then began the discharges of artillery which at one time even made me shed tears of terror.”71 This recollection was in no way exaggerated, as a comment by the Austrian envoy in October  attests: “Eight months ago he could not hear a cannon shot, fired in the Bay, without a sort of shudder.”72 In late middle age, Pedro II would confess, discussing his avoidance of passion, that “my way of life during my youth has made me timid.”73 At the end of , he commented in a letter: “And the future? I am always afraid of change.”74 The victors in the struggle for power showed a commendable desire to reassure Pedro II and his sisters. A first step was to take the three children on a daylong fishing trip. Although this expedition was conducted with considerable ceremony, the Austrian envoy, who had been invited to attend by the emperor, attested to “the pleasure which this trip gave to the August Children.”75 More important was the dedication and attention that the acting guardian, the marquis of Itanhaem, brought to the lives of his charges. The end of José Bonifácio’s constant jeremiads against his foes, the increased opportunities for physical exercise, particularly after the court moved back to São Cristóvão palace in September , and the improved nurture wrought a rapid improvement in the children’s health, as foreign diplomats duly reported. “The child who only a short time ago was so timid and trembled at the least noise,” the French envoy reported late in , “has already become a good marksman and a fearless rider.”76 So pleased was the Austrian minister by the marquis of Itanhaem’s handling of his responsibilities that, when the election of a new guardian came before the legislature in August , Baron Daiser discreetly intervened to ensure Itanhaem’s confirmation in the post.77 Despite the considerable improvement in the emperor’s existence following the removal of José Bonifácio in December , two factors—his health and conditions in the Côrte e Casa—adversely affected his life. During his serious illness of October –, , Pedro II had suffered epileptic convulsions. These attacks did not stop with his recovery. The Austrian envoy, obviously anxious not to alarm his grandfather, the emperor of Austria, reported in April  that Pedro II’s physical growth led him to eat more, and that the heavy meals gave him “indigestions which almost always have as a result a small nervous movement which disappears after a very few days.”78 Daiser felt that the attacks could be prevented “by a reasonable diet and by means of moderate and regular exercise.” The Brazilian cuisine, he complained, was “noxious to the health, above all the practice of constantly eating sweet things.” The envoy’s personal remedy was for the emperor to take a daily dosage of Tokay, a “wine prescribed to the sick who need a nonirritating tonic.”79 The emperor was in all probability suffering from what is now known as

  

  , ‒ benign Rolandic epilepsy, which affects children from the age of three until the onset of adolescence. An attack starts with sensation at the corner of the mouth, followed by a jerking of that corner. The jerking thereafter spreads to one side of the face or causes a twisting of that side. Sometimes the seizure spreads to the limbs on the same side of the body. An attack of this type corresponds to Baron Daiser’s “small nervous movement,” and to “the head attacks from which he [Pedro II] is prone to suffer,” mentioned in the diary of a national politician.80 Seizures can, however, become major, involving the entire body—what is termed a tonic-clonic [grand mal] seizure. The child stiffens and loses consciousness. The eyes roll up, the head falls back, and the arms and legs stiffen. Breathing is difficult and the lips and face turn blue, with saliva causing a gurgling sound in the mouth or throat. Next comes rapid, rhythmic jerking of the head and limbs, which lasts a few minutes, gradually decreasing and ending with the child’s giving a deep sigh. A general seizure is followed by some minutes of inactivity and continued unconsciousness from which the sufferer recovers, feeling tired and confused. Attacks of benign Rolandic epilepsy tend to occur at night and during certain stages of sleep.81 Even today epileptic seizures, though easy to diagnose and often controllable with drugs, are—as the above description makes plain—extremely alarming to watch. In the early nineteenth century, when the complex of conditions known together as epilepsy was a medical mystery and without any effective remedies, it aroused considerable fear, particularly since it was viewed as a disease of the mind. Although epileptic attacks do originate in the brain, they do not in general involve brain damage, although one form of childhood epilepsy— the Lennox-Gastaut syndrome—is linked to brain lesions and to mental deficiencies.82 The alarm caused by Pedro II’s malady and the desire to explain it as no more than nervous attacks brought on by indigestion are therefore entirely understandable. The court doctors could not treat the emperor’s condition, nor could they foretell whether it would lead to the mental backwardness afflicting his uncle, the future emperor Ferdinand of Austria. Concern that knowledge about the emperor’s condition might spread to the general public was one reason for limiting his contacts with the outside world. A few rumors about his condition eventually spread. At the end of  the British envoy informed his government, in a dispatch marked “Private and Secret”: “Reports have late been current, although confined to a limited circle, and repeated with great caution, that the Emperor is not quite free from some mental affection, or defect of intellectual faculties; and that He never can be expected to reign in Person. The assertions of all those who form his Court tend diametrically to contradict such Reports.” The envoy was skeptical about these rumors but promised “not to

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  , ‒ lose sight of this subject.”83 In fact, as is typical of benign Rolandic epilepsy, the attacks ceased with the onset of adolescence. Just as the improvement in the emperor’s health after the removal of José Bonifácio as guardian was not all it seemed to be, so the restoration of calm and order in the Côrte e Casa following his removal did not end the intrigues which sought to manipulate the emperor for personal advantage. The new guardian was devoted to his charges, conscientious in performing his duties, and eschewed any role in politics. Born into a noble family with large land holdings in Rio de Janeiro province, the marquis of Itanhaem had spent virtually all his life at court in attendance on the emperor’s father and grandfather. The guardian could not, however, be characterized as highly intelligent or as strong willed. It rapidly became clear that he was being managed by three individuals who were to play a large role Pedro II’s life during the next dozen years—the first lady of the chamber, D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães; the mordomo [steward] of the court, Paulo Barbosa da Silva; and the minister of justice, Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho. These three were close friends, meeting at D. Mariana’s country house near São Cristóvão. All three liked power and influence for its own sake, interpreted any opposition to their dominance in personal terms, and were ruthless in defense of their position at court. When D. Mariana was restored as first lady-inwaiting in December , the Austrian envoy acknowledged the main flaw in her character: “She is in truth rather too much an intriguer but she has character, good manners, and correct beliefs.”84 In contrast to D. Mariana, Paulo Barbosa da Silva, a military officer who had participated in court life for almost twenty years, was blunt in speech and brusque in manner. A native of Minas Gerais, he had inherited considerable wealth and had been educated in France in the late s. He possessed administrative capacity and a talent for political maneuver. As mordomo charged with controlling the palaces, handling the personal wealth of the emperor and the princesses, and managing the imperial properties, he achieved within two years a marked improvement in the imperial finances.85 In terms of the court and indeed of his social and racial origins, Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho was an outsider, possessing no links with the landowning families in his native province, Rio de Janeiro.86 His father, a colonel in the corps of army engineers, had sent him to Coimbra University. After graduating in law, Aureliano had served as a judge and made his mark in politics as a stalwart of the regency regime. Between  and  he held no fewer than three cabinet posts. The Austrian envoy described him as “a young man of talent and of considerable energy.”87 His establishment of linkages to the court was a shrewd move to secure political influence once the emperor came of age.

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  , ‒

Figure . Paulo Barbosa da Silva, mordomo of the imperial court, –

The alliance of Aureliano, D. Mariana, and Paulo Barbosa, with the marquis of Itanhaem as their follower, rapidly secured them dominance over the affairs of the Côrte and Casa. Nothing could be done without their favor and approval, and they consulted only their own interests and those of their friends. Their power aroused strong resentment among those who did not want any one faction to control the court. When the ministry of which Aureliano was a member fell from power early in January , the new cabinet proposed dismissing Itanhaem, D. Mariana, and Paulo Barbosa from their posts. The changes were not made, in part because the Austrian envoy intervened, fearing the emotional damage that yet more replacements at court might inflict on the emperor and his sisters.88 The influence that D. Mariana and Paulo Barbosa held in the affairs of the Côrte e Casa was demonstrated in the selection of a new aio for the emperor to replace D. Francisco Maria Teles, dismissed in December . Not until the following October did the marquis of Itanhaem arrange a private meeting with a number of persons prominent in public life to consult on filling the post.89 The

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  , ‒ candidate eventually selected was Frei Pedro de Santa Mariana e Sousa, a Carmelite monk who had taught since  at the Rio de Janeiro Military Academy.90 “He is a highly respectable man due to the purity of his morals, the nature of his character, and his profound knowledge of mathematics,” the Austrian envoy reported in February  to his government. “But he is totally absorbed by his studies and so is not suited to make gradually unroll before the eyes of the young prince the vast horizons of the world in which His Majesty is called some day to play one of the premier roles.”91 The reasons behind the choice of Frei Pedro de Santa Mariana as aio were obvious. A man of political standing and worldly experience would have shifted the balance of power at court, diminishing the influence of D. Mariana and Paulo Barbosa. The new aio soon appreciated that he was out of his depth in his post, lacking the qualities that his duties required. He tried to resign but was dissuaded from doing so.92 For all his defects, Frei Pedro cannot for two reasons be deemed a failure in his post. First, he gained and forever retained the respect and affection of Pedro II and his sisters. After assuming his powers as emperor, Pedro II obtained from the pope a bishopric in partibus (that of Crisópolis) for his former aio, who lived the rest of his life at the palace of São Cristóvão. The emperor was present at his funeral in —a rare honor—and every year thereafter on the anniversary of his death attended a mass commemorating “my bishop.”93 Secondly, Frei Pedro was responsible for introducing his imperial pupil to pure science and abstract research, aspects of learning that would entrance Pedro II to the end of his days. The emperor was very conscious of his debt to the aio. When commenting on Foucault’s pendulum in his diary on April , , a few months before his death, Pedro II expressed his “regret that the researches of the bishop of Crisópolis on the general formula for solving equations have not been published.”94 The hunger for scientific knowledge that Frei Pedro aroused in his pupil was extremely opportune, given the widely held belief that a ruler personified the nation’s culture and should be an exemplar of civilization, a role model for his subjects.95 One of the writing exercises set for the emperor epitomized these concepts: Happy the people who are ruled by a prudent prince. They live content, prosperous, and love the man to whom they owe their good fortune. The model for this, Telemachus, is your rule. Love your peoples as your children and acquire the knowledge to be loved by them. Labor so that they learn from experience that what they enjoy from tranquillity, such prized gifts, they owe to their prince.96

The young emperor’s innate love for study made him eager to accept the equation of knowledge with capacity, with wisdom, and with civilized behavior.

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  , ‒ His identification with European culture, particularly that of France, and his lifelong acceptance of its precepts were due in part to three of his instructors being immigrants from France.97 By far the most influential was Félix Emílio Taunay, who taught Pedro II drawing from January , and French as well from October . A half-century later Pedro II described Taunay as possessed of “a vast mind, acquainted with almost every branch of human knowledge; yes indeed, he was my real teacher.”98 Taunay’s father, a painter of repute, had been a strong supporter of Napoleon Bonaparte and, with the restoration of the Bourbons to the French throne, had come to Brazil in  along with other artists also politically out of favor. Although the elder Taunay soon returned to France, four of his sons settled in Rio de Janeiro. Félix Emílio Taunay had become like his father a painter, and, in , was named head of the Academy of Fine Arts at Rio de Janeiro.99 In his own words “an unceasing lover of the beautiful,” the younger Taunay identified beauty not just with nature but also with civilization. There exists a (profane) religion of the Beautiful, a glorification of human intelligence by the arts, the sciences, and the great virtues. The seat of this cult existed in Athens and since the Renaissance it has been located in Paris, without ever changing to another place, not even Rome. Of this cult I had the happiness to transmit the flame to the emperor.100

Pedro II absorbed Taunay’s outlook, as he later noted: “I owe him a very great deal, principally in respect to the love of the beautiful and its cultivation.”101 Taunay’s success was due in part to the security that his pupil felt in his company. “No matter how far I look back into the past,” the emperor told Taunay’s son, “I always see your father at my side, attentive and never exploitative.”102 Taunay and (to a much lesser extent) the other two teachers who were French influenced the emperor’s development in two important respects. Pedro II became, firstly, thoroughly at ease when using French. From adolescence he read voraciously in the language, kept diaries and conducted correspondence in it, and could hold his own in conversations on literary and scientific subjects with savants ranging from Victor Hugo to Louis Pasteur.103 Secondly, he became so imbued with French culture that he perceived it as his own. When visiting Karnak in Egypt in December , he wrote (in a diary kept in French): “On leaving the great temple, I was able, standing in the first pylon [gateway] to admire the sunset;. . . . From the height of the pylon I adored God, creator of everything that is beautiful, turned towards my two countries, Brazil and France, the latter the country of my intellect and the former the country of my heart and my birth.”104 The fascination that the world of the mind held for the young emperor was

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  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II, with his sisters D. Francisca and D. Januária, in their study at São Cristóvão palace in . Engraved from a painting by Félix Emílio Taunay

not entirely altruistic. Books and study continued to provide a means of escape both then and throughout his life; through them he could separate himself from an outside reality that he found threatening or unsatisfactory. Books compensated for external unpleasantness and for the virtual absence of any social life—and of any companions of his own age save his two remaining sisters. One reminiscence tells of the three playing at church services, with D. Francisca taking the role of priest.105 The three siblings’ feeling of solidarity, of mutual protection and support, was both put to the test and strongly reinforced when in December  they learned of their father’s death from tuberculosis in Lisbon. On being given the news, their first, shared reaction was to seek out the others.106 A few months later, in June , they learned of the death of their grandfather, the emperor Francis I of Austria.107 This double loss strengthened for a time their bonds of affection. The nature of the relationship between the siblings changed as the emperor grew older. He became increasingly conscious of his superiority, both as a male and as sovereign of Brazil. He continued to treat D. Januária and D. Francisca

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  , ‒ with kindness, but he expected them to do what he wanted and to accord him deference and obedience. On their side they became less and less willing to challenge or to offend him. What Pedro II hungered for was a brother. He would find one in Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, who married his eldest sister, D. Maria II, in , when Pedro II was eleven years old. Even though the two men would not meet until , Pedro II came to regard his new brother-in-law, known as Fernando in Portuguese, as his actual mano [brother] and began a correspondence, which was constant and often demanding on the emperor’s side, lasting until Fernando’s death in .108 The exchange of letters did not, however, supply actual male companionship. Contact by Pedro II and his sisters with outsiders of their own age was extremely limited, as the Austrian envoy reported early in : As to the people they meet, the number is very small. Outside of the hours of study they are almost always together under the surveillance of some ladies for the princesses and of Frei Pedro, the young Emperor’s aio. . . . Their usual companions are a girl eight to ten years old and two small boys, who are all three wards of the marquis of Itanhaem. The girl lives in the palace; the two brothers attend a school from which they come to St. Christophe frequently during the day and also for the vacations.109

The identity of the girl is not clear. She cannot have been Mariana Velho da Silva, whom the emperor introduced in  as “the companion of my sisters in their games and during adolescence.”110 The two boys were almost certainly Luís and João Pedreira do Couto Ferraz, whose deceased father had been a judge on the casa de suplicação [supreme court] at Rio de Janeiro.111 Luís, the elder of the two brothers and subsequently viscount of Bom Retiro, would become the emperor’s closest intimate and auxiliary. Some time later, Pedro II became acquainted with the young Guilherme Schüch de Capanema. “He was educated so to speak with me,” the emperor explained about Capanema in . “He is the son of a German Dr. in mineralogy of some standing who accompanied my mother [to Brazil], and he is somewhat older than me, and therefore I am very much his friend.”112 The “therefore” in the final phrase is revealing. Anyone whom Pedro II had known in his childhood or who had close ties of any type to his parents aroused in him a stubborn loyalty that was little affected by the individual’s personal qualities or behavior. Friendship for Pedro II was a matter of his own determining. If Pedro II as an adult did not easily develop relationships in which he fully participated, the characteristic can be in part traced to his childhood experiences. The marquis of Itanhaem, following his appointment as guardian in December , steadily pursued a two-part policy. In the interest of improving his charge’s physical and emotional well-being, he kept Pedro II shielded from

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  , ‒ continual contact with the outside world. Secondly, Itanhaem did not restrain— and indeed encouraged—the emperor’s thirst for learning, so much so that one of Pedro II’s teachers noted in April  that “he is very advanced in every way for his age.”113 The boy emperor lacked social skills, in good part because he had so few opportunities to develop them. At the end of , Prince Henry of Orange, on a voyage of circumnavigation, unexpectedly arrived at Rio. During the prince’s brief visit Pedro II had his first taste of the ceremonies and engagements that typically filled a monarch’s life. They included a Te Deum, a military review, two balls, a gala performance at the theater, and a state dinner at São Cristóvão. Baron Daiser reported that when the emperor was informed of the prince’s arrival, he at once asked for “a book on Holland and its colonies, in order to have a subject for conversation with the Prince.” “Due to the mutual timidity of the two young people, one only  and the other , their conversation was not very brisk. However, at the end of the first day spent together, the Emperor told His Guardian in a triumphant tone that he had already asked the Prince nine questions.”114 In February  the prince of Joinville (the third son of King Louis Philippe of France) visited Rio de Janeiro. Outgoing and energetic, the prince organized a mock landing in force on the shores of the bay near São Cristóvão. The emperor participated and, at the end of it, with “his face and his clothes blackened with gunpowder he exclaimed several times that never in his life had he been so happy.”115 So excellent an adventure had to be repeated. Some months later there took place, as Pedro II recalled with pleasure in middle age, “the combat I and other boys had near the lake of the Quinta [da Boa Vista], firing at each other and throwing many unripe oranges. The fort was built of wood on one of the spurs of the lake. We rowed; in sum it was excellent entertainment.”116 Such rare moments of freedom and exuberant enjoyment could not offset the emperor’s lack of companionship and of a varied social life. It was no wonder that Pedro II immersed himself in literature and learning, as his surviving letters to the mordomo indicate: Sr. Paulo Barbosa, Have the goodness to send me some Latin selections and a Magnum Lexicon [Portuguese-Latin Dictionary], because mine is very old, and I also remind you to get something handsome to give to Nhonho. From your friend D. Pedro  Arrange to buy the following work, which is for sale in the establishment of E. Laemmert, translation of Cornelius Nepos.

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  , ‒ Sr. Paulo, Arrange to have bound the parts which I am sending you with this My letter. The books which I received yesterday from my Great Aunt have still not arrived at the City Palace. D. Pedro ˚117

As the third note shows, literature and knowledge were for the young emperor identified with Europe, above all with France. “One of the books of my earliest reading which I recall with pleasure,” he recorded in old age, was Xavier Marmier’s Lettres sur l’Islande, a description of a visit to Iceland published in .118 Another book he treasured was Bernardin de Saint Pierre’s Paul et Virginie, an idyll of young and unconsummated love. Not only did its theme appeal but in addition its setting—a tropical land with luxuriant vegetation and a cast of adoring African slaves—was familiar.119 As his knowledge of English and German improved, Pedro II began to read books in those languages as well. A lifelong devotee of “my Walter Scott,” he devoured the Waverley novels, “which have been my delight since my adolescence.”120 His reading went much beyond fiction, and included an illustrated “voyage to Constantinople which greatly interested me when I was  or  years old.”121 So hungry was he for knowledge that he would, after he had been put to bed, sometimes relight the candles and read late into the night.122 The guardian’s handling of his charge produced a visible disparity between the emperor’s intellectual and psychological development. At the end of , when the emperor was just fourteen years old, the British envoy reported that “trifling round games with cards, toys like those of young children, and occasional parties of boys who meet to play with the Emperor, constitute His amusements. . . . My boys are not unfrequently invited to the Palace, and the eldest of them is only  years old; yet the Emperor seems to enjoy their Play as much as they do themselves.”123 If circumstances worked to keep Pedro II emotionally immature and awkward in his social life, his liking for study and almost constant company with adult men made him at the same moment grave and pretentious beyond his years. The emperor’s sedentary life and his very sweet tooth combined to make him plump from an early age. Foreigners were rarely frank in their comments, but it is clear that they found the emperor odd. The prince of Joinville, on first meeting the emperor, then just eleven years old, described him as “a punkin . . . taut, odd, ill formed, acting like a man of forty.”124 The British envoy, using more diplomatic language, made the same point a year later: “The mode of amusement and of passing the hours of recreation adopted for the young Sovereign, are not such as to develop either his bodily or mental faculties.” The disparity between the emperor’s intellectual and emotional growth in no way troubled Brazil’s political community, which enthusiastically endorsed

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  , ‒ the guardian’s policy. The emperor was important not as an individual but as the ordained leader of the country, the source of legitimate authority, and the embodiment of national identity. Pedro II’s intellectual precocity was a welcome proof of his capacity to fulfill his destined role. His maturity raised hopes that he might be able to assume the reins of government even before he became eighteen on December , , the age of majority fixed by the constitution. In the late s, as Pedro II entered adolescence, it was inevitable that he would come to dominate public attention. The course taken by national affairs since Pedro I’s abdication in April  and the changing fortunes of the contending political forces focused all eyes on the young emperor, who was increasingly regarded as the key to Brazil’s survival as a nation and the hope for its future. The coalition of political interests that in April  had achieved Pedro I’s abdication and departure from Brazil rapidly discovered that their victory resolved very little. For all his failings, the former emperor commanded considerable support at all levels of society. The passage of time, growing dissatisfaction with the regency regime, and the former emperor’s success in regaining the throne of Portugal for his daughter had made schemes for Pedro I’s return to Brazil, either as restored emperor or—more feasibly—as regent during his son’s minority, considerably more attractive.125 The former emperor’s death from tuberculosis at Lisbon on September , , cut short these schemes, but Pedro I’s supporters in Brazil thereupon simply transferred their loyalties and their hopes to his son. In their view, the nation would not regain the strength and stability it had enjoyed under Pedro I until his son assumed direction of the political order. Traditional monarchists saw no reason why the emperor’s assumption of his powers should wait, as article  of the constitution decreed, until he reached the age of eighteen. In Portugal, upon Pedro I’s death in , the legislature had not sought to nominate a new regent for Queen Maria II but rather had declared her, then fifteen, to be of age and in full exercise of the royal powers.126 Prominent among, and indeed representative of, the traditional monarchists was Francisco Vilela Barbosa, marquis of Paranaguá. A graduate of Coimbra University, Paranaguá had made his career in Portugal, not returning to Brazil until late in . Immediately named minister by Pedro I, he played a central role in the coup which dissolved the Constituent Assembly in November . Paranaguá continued as a minister until January , being also appointed to the Council of State, named to the new Senate, and awarded his title of nobility. In December  the marquis again became a minister and continued in office until March , acting within the cabinet as spokesman and watchdog for his imperial master. Pedro I included Paranaguá in the abortive “cabinet of the marquises” named on April , , an act of defiance that set off the abdication cri-

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  , ‒ sis. Forced to follow his master into exile, Paranaguá soon returned to Brazil. He kept out of the public eye but continued to take part in the proceedings of the Senate.127 His opinions and his past made it obvious that, if Paranaguá had any say in the matter, article  of the constitution would not prevent Pedro II from taking power before the age of eighteen. If the traditional monarchists knew what they wanted and chafed at the delay in the emperor’s coming of age, the political interests that had forced Pedro I’s abdication were entrapped in disarray, disillusioned with the regency they had created, and uncertain as to their ability to rule the country. The coalition that took power on April , , had in reality never been more than a loose coalition of disparate interests, united only by opposition to Pedro I. The most radical element in this coalition were the declared Republicans, whose aggressive zeal far exceeded their actual numbers. Much more important were the Nativists, men who viewed the monarchy as an oppressive relic of the colonial era but feared the consequences of abolishing it. The Nativists sought instead to deprive the monarch of his powers, making him a figurehead subordinate to the elected representatives of the people. The regency law of June , , had implemented this strategy. The law withheld from the regents the most significant of the imperial prerogatives. Denied the right to dissolve the legislature, the three regents who had been chosen by that body lacked any independent authority. The Nativists and the Republicans both identified more with their native provinces than with the new nation-state and agreed in their support for federalism. They sought a massive devolution of power to the provinces. The mission of the national government at Rio should be limited to protecting the provinces from external attack, assuring their internal order, and supplying them with revenue. These changes Nativists and Republicans intended to achieve through a constitutional amendment which would also pare down the powers of the monarch and the Senate.128 A good many of the Nativist and Republican leaders were priests, of whom the most notable was Diogo Antônio Feijó. A foundling (perhaps the son of a priest), Feijó was largely self-educated and very much a rustic. Ill at ease in the world of Rio de Janeiro, he preferred to spend his days in his native province of São Paulo. Only his zeal to the cause of liberty and federalism made him play, as a deputy, a leading role in national politics both before and after the abdication of Pedro I. Whatever his faults, Feijó was certainly the most able of the Nativist leaders.129 The third major element in the coalition that triumphed on April , , differed markedly in its outlook and social condition from the first two. The third group’s stalwarts had been educated at Coimbra University, most of them in the

  

  , ‒ years between  and . As a consequence of being despised and persecuted by the Portuguese-born students, this generation had developed a strong loyalty to Brazil. On returning home, they secured posts in the judiciary and the general administration. Having experienced absolutism in Portugal, they desired to prevent its establishment in their own nation. They distrusted Pedro I for his impulsiveness, his Portuguese-born advisers, and his resistance to their demands for a more accountable government. At heart the members of this Coimbra-trained generation were monarchists and upholders of the status quo. This preference, however, was held firmly in check as long as Pedro I’s return to power remained possible.130 If the Nativists suffered from a paucity of leaders, the Coimbra bloc was burdened with a superfluity of men who, by training and inclination, sought to command. Two figures stood out. Pedro de Araújo Lima, a landowner from Pernambuco province in the northeast, was notable for his skill as an administrator, his moderation in language and action, and his personal integrity. The respect he commanded caused him to be elected speaker of the Chamber of Deputies in  and again in . In contrast to Araújo Lima, Bernardo Pereira de Vasconcelos inspired no trust among his contemporaries, although few denied his intellectual brilliance, energy, and leadership abilities. A persuasive speaker and journalist from Minas Gerais province, Vasconcelos was also notable as a drafter of laws. He was the ideologue of the Coimbra bloc, responsible for keeping its members loyal to doctrines of liberalism.131 None of these political factions were tightly organized, nor did they espouse agreed-upon programs. There also existed a number of independent groups, notably the Andrada brothers and their followers, who were interested more in their own advancement than anything else. A second such group was the family clan from northeast Brazil headed by Antônio Francisco de Paula e Holanda Cavalcanti de Albuquerque. Holanda Cavalcanti was quite as hotheaded, selfserving, and changeable in views as any of the Andrada brothers.132 The instability that wracked the country after Pedro I’s abdication had much deeper causes than the machinations of these political interests. In  Brazil had been an independent nation for less than a decade and a single state for just fifteen years. The vastness of its territories, the disparity of its peoples, and the diversity of its cultures were not balanced and contained by any strong identification with the nation that took precedence over other loyalties. While few advocated dismembering the country, many did regard local autonomy as the foundation stone of political independence, viewing strong government from Rio de Janeiro as a continuation of the colonial order. The revolts, riots, and rivalries that plagued the country in the early s sprang from structural tensions and contradictions long denied expression.133

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  , ‒ The fragility of the nation state and the specter of a descent into anarchy made many ordinary Brazilians cling to the one individual who symbolized and made real the common nation. Pedro II’s serious illness in October  aroused, the French envoy reported, a universal distress and concern for the future.134 Eighteen months later, in March , the Austrian envoy sent back to Vienna a dispatch which, for all its conservative bias and patronizing tone, was remarkably prescient. Commenting on the entourage serving Pedro II, then nine years old, Baron Daiser wrote: Greater attention is being paid to his physical and intellectual education, because it is more than likely that at the age of , that is, in four and a half years’ time, the young emperor will be declared of age, as was the young queen of Portugal. . . . The implementation of this plan has now become a universal aspiration. The Brazilian imperial family is possessed of a very considerable prestige for this people more uncivilized than evil. . . . No one wishes to obey his equal; the emperor stands above everyone, no one is his equal; nobody’s vanity, nobody’s pride is wounded by obeying a hereditary ruler born in the country. . . . It is a monarchical sentiment that even liberal ideals have failed to silence.”135

Whether Daiser’s explanation was well founded or no, organized support for republicanism did indeed wither away. Given the emperor’s tender age, renewed enthusiasm for the monarchy could not, however, of itself resolve the country’s problems. The regency government, backed by a coalition between the Nativists led by Feijó and the Coimbra bloc guided by Vasconcelos, managed between  and  to defeat all attempts to overthrow it. The regime was, nonetheless, perpetually on the defensive, never able to restore calm and security or to enforce its authority. The number of the discontented grew apace, to the benefit of the movement advocating the former emperor’s return.136 The growing threat posed by the restorationist cause eventually compelled the Coimbra bloc, all unwillingly, to yield to the Nativists’ demands for federalism. For the Coimbra bloc one justification existed for this sacrifice. The introduction of a federal system meant that Pedro I, should he regain power in Rio de Janeiro, would not and could not control the entirety of Brazil. The procedures for authorizing constitutional amendments were complex and very slow. Not until May  did the Chamber of Deputies, newly elected and with constituent powers, begin to debate specific changes. The amendments’ passage was aided by fears that the former emperor, deprived of a mission by his defeat of absolutism in Portugal, would succumb to the siren call of his supporters in Brazil and recross the Atlantic at the head of an army.137

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  , ‒ The Ato Adicional, as the amendments were known, was promulgated on August , . Its provisions abolished the Council of State, replaced the three regents (named by the legislature) with a single regent chosen by popular election for a four-year term, and created a legislature assembly in each province. This third provision was by far the most important. The assemblies received considerable powers. The presidents of the provinces continued to be appointed by the national government, but they possessed few means of controlling the assemblies.138 The new system was a gamble, justified by necessity, and Bernardo Pereira de Vasconcelos and other leaders of the Coimbra bloc fully appreciated the dangers that the Ato Adicional entailed. Six weeks after the Ato Adicional was promulgated, Pedro I died at Lisbon. News of his death transformed the dynamics of politics in Brazil. The restorationist movement vanished overnight. Attempts to seize power by force ended. The Coimbra bloc, released from its fears and bitter at the pointless sacrifice it had made, abruptly reversed course. Vasconcelos, declaring that excessive liberty was now the danger, led the greatest part of the Coimbra bloc into the Regresso movement, which advocated a “return” to order and authority. The passage of the Ato Adicional and the former emperor’s death threw the Nativists into disarray, depriving them of the shared goals and the looming menace that had previously kept them united. The course of events following passage of the Ato Adicional justified the forebodings of the Coimbra bloc. Devolution of power to the provinces, far from placating local ambitions and discontents, kindled them into flame. In the far north and the far south, civil wars broke out. In January  the Amerindian and mestizo masses in the province of Pará rose against the ruling minority. In the southern province of Rio Grande do Sul a revolt in September  evolved into a separatist movement led by local notables.140 The national government could do little to resist these challenges to its authority. The Ato Adicional, by replacing the three regents, rendered them impotent. Elections to choose the new regent did not take place until April , and the results revealed how fragmented Brazil was. No candidate came close to winning a majority of the votes. At the top of the poll stood the Nativist leader Feijó, closely followed by Holanda Cavalcanti, supported by the former restorationists. Araújo Lima, Vasconcelos, and two other members of the Coimbra bloc together secured as many votes as did Holanda Cavalcanti. No candidate commanded nationwide support. Not until October  were the election results proclaimed. On October , Diogo Antônio Feijó finally and reluctantly took office.141 Feijó’s regency was one sustained torment lasting almost two years. He lacked the vision, flexibility, and resource needed to guide Brazil under the con-

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  , ‒ ditions that had prevailed since the death of Pedro I and the passage of the Ato Adicional.142 A further complication was Feijó’s perception of his post. Reluctant to assume power, the regent regarded himself, once installed in office, as chosen by the people’s will and so accountable to them alone. He showed himself to be no less resolute and intransigent in defense of his prerogatives than Pedro I had been. Feijó’s semimonarchical pretensions were widely regarded as disrespectful, even insulting, to the young emperor.143 His behavior served to discredit not only himself but also the very idea of a single elected regent. Even if Feijó had developed new capacities and abandoned his pretensions, he would still have faced an impossible task. Nothing the regent could have done would have won over the devotees of the Regresso, led by Vasconcelos. Dominant in the Chamber of Deputies, they proved unrelenting in their opposition to the regent. For them Feijó’s every act was suspect. The regent’s failure to take swift action against the rising in Rio Grande do Sul revealed, in their mind, his sympathy for, even complicity with, the separatist revolt.144 The opposition directed by Vasconcelos sought to achieve three objectives. The most immediate goal was to harass Feijó into either committing a breach of the constitution (thus justifying his removal) or resigning his post in disgust.145 Once the regent was ousted, Vasconcelos and his allies intended to restore the rule of authority, imposing order, respect, and obedience throughout Brazil. Thirdly and finally, the leaders of the Regresso were determined, notwithstanding the constitutional amendment of  introducing federalism, to restore power and authority to the national government. Since the Ato Adicional authorized the passage of laws interpreting its provisions, Vasconcelos intended to secure the enactment of a law that so interpreted the Ato as to deprive the provinces and municipalities of jurisdiction over justice and police. A further law could then be passed returning authority in these two areas to the national government.146 Resignation in disgust and impeachment for breach of the constitution were not the only possible means of ending Feijó’s rule as regent. Vasconcelos toyed briefly in  with the idea of declaring Princess Januária regent for her younger brother. The plan, “as insane as it is dangerous,” in Baron Daiser’s words, was taken up by other political interests, as hungry for power as Vasconcelos but lacking his means to gain it.147 The general, ingrained dislike of subordination to women and established assumptions about females’ innate incapacity doomed the idea. Schemes to declare the emperor of age aroused no such prejudices. In May  a deputy presented a bill declaring the eleven-year-old emperor of age and creating a council to advise him until he became eighteen. Araújo Lima, the speaker of the lower house, was so energetically opposed to the measure that he left the chair to speak and vote against it. The bill secured only eighteen support-

  

  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II at about the age of eleven or twelve

ers. Ominously for the future, the eighteen included Holanda Cavalcanti and Martim Francisco de Andrada, leaders of two self-seeking political factions.148 By May  Feijó’s regency had lost almost all credibility. Little or no progress had been made in suppressing revolts in the far north and the far south. The country’s needs were not being addressed. Self-confident and well-disciplined, the Regresso supporters intensified their campaign to drive Feijó from office. What considerably enhanced the movement’s credibility were the close links, both political and personal, that its leaders established with the booming coffee sector in the Paraíba valley just to the north of Rio de Janeiro city. Coffee exports quadrupled in size during the s and doubled again between  and . By the end of the decade coffee shipments out of Rio de Janeiro port amounted in value to one-half of Brazil’s entire exports.149 This economic boom strengthened the position of the national government, increasing its revenues and its ability to secure loans. By the end of August , Feijó had lost his will to continue. On September  he appointed Pedro de Araújo Lima to be minister of the empire (interior). Four days later Feijó resigned as regent and left for his native province. By virtue of the portfolio he held, Araújo Lima became acting regent. He named a cabinet drawn from the supporters of the Regresso and headed by Bernardo Pereira de

  

  , ‒ Vasconcelos, who replaced him as minister of the empire.150 The new administration immediately set about achieving the movement’s remaining objectives. The first step was to enforce respect for established authority, eroded by six years of egalitarian behavior. The traditional ceremonies and practices surrounding the monarch, suspended since Pedro I’s abdication, were revived. Shortly after becoming interim regent, Araújo Lima at a public event went down on his knees and kissed the emperor’s hand. This act revived the beija-mão, a ceremony inherited from Portuguese practice and symbolic of the individual subject’s subordination and obedience to the monarch.151 “December , , the twelfth birthday of His Majesty the Emperor has been celebrated with much more pomp than in previous years,” the Austrian minister reported. The formal court, with its beija-mão ceremony, “was far better attended than is customary, and many individuals who had long abstained from coming to the court were seen there.” The route from São Cristóvão to the Paço da Cidade was crowded with people, “and everywhere the young emperor was received with signs of respect and support.”152 On December , , a new high school, named the Colégio D. Pedro II, was founded in Rio de Janeiro by order of Vasconcelos as minister of the empire. The school’s task was to educate the future leaders of Brazil, who “will learn to respect the laws and institutions and to perceive the advantages of subordination and respect.”153 So Vasconcelos declared, in the presence of the emperor and the acting regent, at the ceremonies opening the colégio in March . In October , the Instituto Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro, a scholarly society intended both to demonstrate and to advance Brazil’s claims to be a civilized nation, was created, and at the first meeting its members petitioned the emperor to become its protector. When the position was offered to Pedro II in a formal ceremony, he accepted it, offering the Instituto a room in the city palace to use for its meetings.154 In taking these measures, the Regresso administration and its supporters were not seeking to introduce absolutism or even the authoritarian monarchy associated with Pedro I. Instead their model was the constitutional regime under Louis-Philippe established in France in July . This goal was clearly enunciated in the middle of  by a newspaper identified with the Regresso movement. What then is the citizen-king? The term describes Louis-Philippe. . . . If that is what is meant by a citizen-king, we call that a strong king. That is what we want, what all Brazilians want: a strong monarch who curbs the ambitions of the discontented and suppresses the fanaticism of the masses, an able monarch who reconciles liberty with order, with internal peace, with the development of the country, with its artistic and literary glory.155

  

  , ‒ The author of those lines wrote more truly than he knew. His words foretold the role and attributes of the citizen emperor. They delineated the mission that Pedro II would work so steadfastly to fulfill during nearly half a century.156 The campaign to inculcate deference and respect for the young emperor found ready acceptance throughout Brazil. Even before the Regresso cabinet took office, the figure of Pedro II had captured the public’s attention. Copies of his portrait were commissioned and sent out to all parts of Brazil. “I have told my [son] Joaquim to paint a portrait of the emperor,” wrote a deputy from Ceará in June , “so that I can offer it to the provincial assembly to be hung in its chamber.”157 Odes in praise of the emperor and of the role he was destined to play in the nation’s affairs that appeared in the columns of the Rio press were copied with increasing frequency by provincial newspapers: Flee days of horrors, days of fear, Flee the discord which ravages the country, Come the reign of D. Pedro the Just!158

This attitude of adulation and deference, sedulously fostered by the Regresso cabinet, inevitably influenced Pedro II’s character and outlook. From birth he had been set apart, separate from the world. The Regresso’s campaign instilled in the boy emperor a sense of indispensability and innate superiority. A man aged over forty had knelt before him in public and kissed his hand. His birthday had been turned into a day for obsequious ceremonial and public adoration. The columns of the press were full of articles and poems lauding his abilities and proclaiming his role as savior of his country. Pedro II could not but believe that the world revolved around him. He gave orders and, as his surviving letters to the mordomo show, he expected them to be fulfilled forthwith. Sr. Paulo, Buy for me a gold cross with a braided cord of gold. D. Pedro ˚ Sr. Paulo Barbosa, get me a handsome present for the Marchioness whose birthday is today. From your friend D. Pedro ˚ Senhor Paulo, I want the jaguar that the vicar of Engenho Velho brought me to be given to the Queen of the French. D. Pedro ˚159

  

  , ‒ The unctuous subordination and prompt obedience that surrounded the emperor was corrupting in another respect. As Pedro II commented in , he was not able to carry on an argument well, since he rarely talked with anyone willing to dispute the views he expressed.160 He had no family save his sisters, and they took care not to challenge him. His position distorted all his relationships, as he observed to the French envoy in . “The people who come to speak with me, . . . , always wanting to obtain something from me, must to some extent dissimulate, but it’s nothing in comparison to me, for I am always forced to watch what I say and what I do and can never be spontaneous.”161 As Pedro II moved into adolescence, this need for wariness served to intensify his distrust of human contact and to make him monosyllabic when forced to talk. “I lived from boyhood until my th year isolated from society, consorting with good books and profiting a great deal from the talks principally with [Félix Emílio] Taunay,” Pedro II explained many years later. “I became, it is true, somewhat bearlike [in behavior], but with a liking for lofty ideas.”162 Pedro II’s avoidance, virtual fear, of intimacy with other humans sprang from a dread, acquired during his childhood, of the betrayal and abandonment that such contact might bring. Richard Shelley, the emperor’s personal servant, who after  acted as “a true nursemaid and cared for him as if he were his son,” was absent for some months in Europe. Upon his return, Shelley, “on his knees, and in tears, hugged the legs of his young master, who merely remarked to him with indifference: ‘Oh! so you’ve already come back?’”163 The indifference, discreditable or not, was an armor donned against more emotional wounding, of which Pedro II had, as he left boyhood behind, already experienced too much. The detrimental effects on Pedro II’s character of the Regresso cabinet’s using him as an instrument of policy were noticed at the time. “The emperor has begun to be less docile,” Baron Daiser reported at the end of February . “His manners are crude; he is no longer so assiduous at his studies; his character is becoming moody and obstinate.” Both the acting regent and most of the ministers were, Daiser observed, “distressed by this state of affairs.”164 Vasconcelos and his colleagues had, however, more pressing problems to resolve. They were bent on achieving the Regresso’s remaining objectives—the enforcement of order, respect, and obedience throughout Brazil and the passage of a law interpreting the Ato Adicional of  and so enabling the national government to take back control of justice and police. The cabinet found that these goals were more easily proclaimed than accomplished. Some successes, however, were achieved. In March  Araújo Lima was elected regent, easily defeating Holanda Cavalcanti and Antônio Carlos. In July  a bill interpreting the Ato Adicional began its slow progress through the legislature.165 The ministers’ dedication to their task, their systematic mobilization of

  

  , ‒ resources, including steamships to carry troops and mail, and their unrestrained spending failed to impose order, respect, and obedience on the provinces. Far from the existing revolts being contained and suppressed, new ones burst out and social disorder spread. The Sabinada uprising, which in November  seized control of Salvador, the capital of Bahia province, was expressly aimed against the program of the Regresso ministry. Not until March  was the revolt suppressed, after a bloody siege. In the legislature the ministry faced mounting opposition.166 A major cause for this lack of success lay within the cabinet itself, as the Austrian envoy pointed out in September 8: “As for the government, it is Mr. Vasconcelos who is its soul; he is by himself the entire administration; nothing can be done without his consent or against his will; he is the true regent of the empire.”167 Vasconcelos’s hunger for power grew greater the longer he remained in office. He could not cooperate but had to dominate, and he could not tolerate centers of authority independent of his will. No wonder that even his allies at length became resentful and rebellious.168 One center of independent authority that Vasconcelos sought to eliminate was the imperial household, the more so since he had long been a sworn foe of Paulo Barbosa da Silva, the mordomo [steward]. From the moment he took office, Vasconcelos worked to undermine and then to oust from their posts Paulo Barbosa and the marquis of Itanhaem, the emperor’s guardian. In May  Itanhaem had recommended, in his report to the legislature, that Pedro II be given a supervisor of studies in addition to Frei Pedro. Vasconcelos persuaded both Araújo Lima, the interim regent, and Baron Daiser, the Austrian envoy, that this post should be filled by an experienced instructor of “history, political economy, public law and statistics” to be brought out from Italy. Selection of the instructor was placed in the hands of Prince Metternich, who ruled Austria in the name of Ferdinand I. Nothing was to be made public until the nominee, in the guise of “a scientific traveler,” arrived at Rio, where the emperor “will be told that it is an honor chosen by his august uncle to direct his education.”169 This coup, if successfully carried out, would have opened the way for “the almost total change in the personnel at the Palace” which the cabinet desired.170 Vasconcelos’s schemes in this respect, as in so much else, did not come to fruition. Paulo Barbosa da Silva showed himself to be adept at counterintrigue. The press campaign which Vasconcelos launched in the middle of  against the guardian and the mordomo became so rabid and unrestrained as to alienate those who had previously favored changes at the palace.171 Above all else, Vasconcelos lost the support of Araújo Lima. Various factors caused Araújo Lima, previously a loyal ally of the Regresso cabinet, to assert his independence. He viewed his triumph in the April  elections for regent as giving him a separate basis of authority. Installed in his post

  

  , ‒ on October , , the regent saw no reason to identify himself with a cabinet rapidly losing prestige and lacking internal unity. He systematically sought to deflate Vasconcelos’s pretensions and to block his schemes.172 Given these conditions, it is no wonder that the marquis of Itanhaem got wind of the plot to import a new instructor from Italy. His response was to appoint Cândido José de Araújo Viana, the current speaker of the Chamber of Deputies, to the post in January . Araújo Viana’s political eminence made him untouchable in his new post.173 He rapidly established a good relationship with the young emperor, one that endured until Araújo Viana’s death in January .174 On April , , Vasconcelos and his colleagues finally resigned office. The Regresso movement had by then splintered into squabbling factions. Thereafter the regent could do no more than construct a succession of ramshackle cabinets lacking support in the legislature and incapable of resolving the country’s problems. The rebels in Rio Grand do Sul continued undefeated, and early in  a formidable social uprising, the Balaiada, broke out in the south of Maranhão province. As the nation’s ills worsened, the regent found himself in no better circumstances than his predecessor Feijó had been. He lacked the character and skills to impose his authority, while the attempts he did make to take control were seen as presumptuous, a usurpation of a position belonging to the emperor alone.175 It appeared increasingly unlikely that Araújo Lima would complete his term of office, which would end in September , sixteen months before Pedro II would come of age. Nobody welcomed the prospect of new elections, scheduled for early , to select a regent to serve during this brief period. It seemed far preferable to terminate the minority at the close of Araújo Lima’s regency.176 A growing body of opinion believed that, given the worsening crisis in Brazil, continuing the regency until September , much less prolonging it until December , , would spell disaster for the country. “From the best sources of information, I am almost led to think,” the British envoy reported in July , “that the Minority of the Emperor will not, under any circumstances, last beyond the year , if it last so long.”177 Support for an immediate majority also sprang from motives less confessable than concern for the country’s future. Despite the rhetoric extolling Pedro II’s maturity and superior character, few politicians doubted that, for some considerable time after an early majority, the emperor would be guided by those whom he first appointed to office. “The Advocates of the immediate Majority of the Emperor,” the British envoy commented in September , “for the most part only seek their private advantage, and the attainment of the Government of the Country by means of a Camarilla.”178 The allure of power was great.

  

  , ‒ A second and cogent motive existed for an early majority. By the end of the  parliamentary session, the bill to interpret the provisions of the Ato Adicional had almost completed passage. Once the measure was enacted in the  session, the cabinet in office could push through a second law taking control over police and justice. The men who were ministers at that moment would command enormous quantities of patronage and could thus hope to entrench themselves indefinitely in power. The opportune moment for ambitious politicians to take office was immediately after the law interpreting the Ato Adicional passed. The most secure means of so doing was to assume power as a result of the emperor’s immediate majority. The emperor’s fourteenth birthday, on December , , was celebrated with exceptional pomp and public enthusiasm.179 By the precepts of the Catholic Church, he could now contract marriage, and so in one important respect he had come of age. His intellectual maturity and great self-possession, acknowledged by all, reinforced this perception of adultness. The extent to which Brazilians had become dependent upon their monarch was brought home to them on March , , when Pedro II suffered a major epileptic attack, a tonic-clonic seizure. A second, less serious attack followed on April . “The population of Rio de Janeiro has on this occasion shown,” Baron Daiser reported on April , “very strong signs of its attachment to the imperial family and of the importance it places on the life of the young monarch, on whom rests the hope and all the future of Brazil.”180 The emperor’s illness intensified the popular desire for his immediate majority. The approach of the new parliamentary session, in which the law interpreting the Ato Adicional would be passed, led to the formation of the Club da Maioridade, a group “actively engaged in gaining from the legislature a declaration that the emperor is of sufficient age to assume the government immediately.”181 Its members represented political interests—the Nativists and the family factions—long out of office and hungry for power. The first meeting was held behind closed doors on April , , at the house of Padre José Martiniano de Alencar, a senator and a stalwart Nativist. As might be expected, Antônio Carlos was elected the club’s president and Holanda Cavalcanti its vice president. Holanda Cavalcanti proposed a two-part strategy. Each member was, first, to ascertain, by all available means, the emperor’s desires on the subject and, second, to mobilize support for the plan among his fellow legislators.182 Without assurance of Pedro II’s willingness to take power, the project would not be viable. At the club’s second meeting, held on April , no definite progress could be reported. Antônio Carlos and Holanda Cavalcanti stated that they had made

  

  , ‒ soundings but that “they could gather nothing positive; but they had some facts to think that the Emperor was favorable to the concept of the majority.”183 This failure was not at all surprising. Despite his young age, Pedro II was already skilled at keeping his true opinions concealed. In the matter of his immediate majority the emperor was not, however, a free agent. He existed within and was subject to pressure from the court. An immediate majority would immensely benefit the members of the Côrte e Casa. Once again they would enjoy, as they had before April , , direct access to the center of power in Brazil. No wonder that, from this moment onward, the imperial household became, in the words of the British envoy, “as complete a hotbed of political or petty intrigue as any Minor Court in Germany.”184 On May , , the day after the legislature opened its annual session, the club held its fourth meeting. Antônio Carlos announced that he “and his brother Sr. Martim Francisco had spoken to this purpose with a person of the palace.” This courtier, whose identity is not known, “some days later, came to inform them that, having spoken on the subject to the Emperor, the latter had replied that he wished it [his majority] and that he desired that it should be at once, and was pleased that this came from the Andradas and their party. This person added that these were H. M.’s own words.”185 The courtier approached by the Andrada brothers was not Pedro II’s guardian because, during the same meeting at which the Andradas made their announcement, it was agreed that a deputy from Minas Gerais, who was Itanhaem’s cousin, should approach the guardian and gain confirmation as to the emperor’s wishes. Three days later, on May , the club learned that Itanhaem had given the necessary assurance.186 It was all important for the conspirators to make sure that their schemes had Pedro II’s consent, since the bill interpreting the provisions of Ato Adicional had now passed the Senate and been sent to the regent for his signature. On May  the club’s members agreed that a bill declaring the emperor immediately of age should be presented at the next session of the Senate, where the measure was more likely to secure a majority. Passage in the upper house would increase support in the Chamber of Deputies. Agreement as to the provisions of the bill was less easily reached. The Nativist politicians wished to provide the emperor with a council of state, composed of a representative from each province, to advise him until he became twenty-one. At the seventh meeting, on May , it was decided to present two bills, the first declaring Pedro II immediately of age and the second creating a privy council of ten members.187 On May , , Holanda Cavalcanti introduced the two bills. His speech termed the idea of Pedro II’s immediate majority “a majestic concept,” implying thereby that the emperor supported the proposal. The two bills were set down on the order paper for debate on May . Holanda Cavalcanti forthwith went to

  

  , ‒ São Cristóvão where, so the Austrian envoy was informed, he was at once admitted to the emperor’s presence. Holanda Cavalcanti delivered a defense of his action, arguing an immediate majority was the only way to save the country from present and future ills. “The young emperor was much taken by this flattering approach, and was very friendly towards M. Holanda Cavalcanti; and I am informed that after the latter had withdrawn, the emperor was unrestrained in his joy.” As soon as the regent learned of the proceedings in the Senate, he too rushed to São Cristóvão, arriving after Holanda Cavalcanti’s departure. The meeting he had with Pedro II was, Baron Daiser was informed, formal and quite cold.188 In the light of this treatment, Araújo Lima was under no illusion that his term as regent would run its full course, nor did he have any intention of clinging to office. “If the Emperor wanted to reign or that a large party in the Country desired it,” the minister of foreign affairs informed the British envoy on the regent’s behalf, “His Excellency would not hesitate at once to leave the Regency.”189 Araújo Lima did not wish, however, to be ejected forthwith and without ceremony from his post. The prospect that Pedro II’s majority would admit to office an opposition coalition composed of the Nativist and of the personalistic Holanda Cavalcanti and Andrada factions outraged the Coimbra bloc, the most numerous element in the Chamber of Deputies. Led by Honório Hermeto Carneiro Leão, a deputy from Minas Gerais noted for his courage and energy, the Coimbra bloc adopted a strategy that would, without opposing an early declaration of Pedro II’s majority, delay its implementation for as long as possible. It was agreed to present a bill authorizing the electors of the next Chamber of Deputies, then on the point of being elected, to grant the deputies power to amend article  of the constitution. The new chamber would convene in May  and, if the necessary constitutional amendment was made the first order of business, the emperor could be declared of age in that same month. By this means, the emperor’s coming of age could be delayed for two years. Carneiro Leão introduced the bill in the lower house on May , . The scheme served its purpose, rallying support against an immediate majority. Three days later debate opened in the Senate on Holanda Cavalcanti’s project. No member requested the floor. The marquis of Paranaguá, who had just been elected as president of the Senate, thereupon left the chair. He offered a strong defense of traditional monarchy and urged adoption of the bill to declare the emperor of age. No other senator spoke. Put to the vote, the proposal went down to defeat by two votes, sixteen in favor and eighteen against.190 The first assault was thus turned back, but the narrowness of the victory meant that the issue of Pedro II’s immediate majority would continue to domi-

  

  , ‒ nate public affairs, precluding attention to any other business. It became vital that Carneiro Leão, leading a revitalized Coimbra bloc, should secure rapid enactment of the bill authorizing the next chamber to amend the constitution. It was an almost impossible task. The supporters of an immediate majority commanded sufficient support in the lower house to prolong discussion on the bill past the moment fixed for the elections of a new chamber. On July , two months after the crisis had begun, Carneiro Leão suddenly abandoned the struggle and offered to withdraw his bill.191 With this act, the initiative passed once more into the hands of the supporters of an immediate majority. On July , Antônio Carlos introduced a bill declaring the emperor immediately of age. At this moment the regent, seeing the political situation spinning out of control and faced with summary ejection from his post, sought to impose a solution. He named Bernardo Pereira de Vasconcelos, the former leader of the Regresso, to be minister of the empire (interior). Vasconcelos’s first act was to issue a decree adjourning the legislature. It was to reconvene on November . The intent was that the emperor would be declared of age on his fifteenth birthday. The appointment of Vasconcelos and the decree of adjournment set off the final crisis. In the Chamber of Deputies, the reading of the decree caused a furor, with the supporters of an immediate majority announcing their determination to resist, by force if necessary. Meanwhile, in the Senate, the marquis of Paranaguá refused to read the decree, which he proceeded to “lose.” Keeping the Senate in session, he sent word of his action to the lower house. The supporters of an immediate majority gathered at the Senate and passed a motion, signed by  senators (out of ) and by  deputies (out of ), calling on the emperor to take full powers. A delegation of eight was named to carry this declaration to São Cristóvão and to seek a response from Pedro II. News of Vasconcelos’s appointment as minister and the attempted adjournment had spread like wildfire through the city, with vast crowds gathering and the students of the military school mobilizing in favor of an immediate majority. At São Cristóvão the deputation was given an audience with Pedro II who, after hearing the appeal, asked its members to wait in an adjoining room while he considered what to reply. Faced with the prospect of taking power, the emperor hesitated. He sought the opinion of those he trusted, such as his teacher, Araújo Viana. They gave varied advice, but most urged him to agree to an immediate majority as the only way of avoiding a popular mobilization and civil strife. Pedro II’s decision was facilitated by the arrival of the regent, who spoke with him in private. The deputation was then admitted to the room. The regent explained that the adjournment had been intended to prepare the way for declaring the emperor’s majority on December . In view of the day’s events,

  

  , ‒ Araújo Lima inquired of Pedro II if he wished the majority to be declared on his fifteenth birthday or at once. The emperor replied: “quero já” [“I want it now”] and ordered that the legislature meet for this purpose in two days. When the drawbacks of such a delay were pointed out to him, Pedro II stated: “convoque para amanhã” [“summon it for tomorrow”].192 The following morning, Thursday, July , , the legislators convened in the Senate house where the marquis of Paranaguá declared Pedro II “from this moment to be of age and in the full exercise of his constitutional rights.” In the afternoon the emperor drove in state from São Cristóvão to the Senate. There, before the assembled legislators, he took the oath of office: “I swear to maintain the Roman, Apostolic, Catholic religion, and the integrity and indivisibility of the Empire, to observe and to enforce the political constitution of the Brazilian Nation and the other laws of the Empire, and to promote the general good of Brazil as far as it is my responsibility.” Pedro II’s reign had begun.

  

 

Savior of His Country, 1840–45



t

The declaration of Pedro II’s majority aroused a general euphoria. A feeling of release and renewal united Brazilians. For the first time since the middle of the s the national government at Rio de Janeiro commanded a general acceptance. This acceptance did not, however, mean an immediate return of peace or a willing subordination to orders issued from Rio. In particular, the rebels in Rio Grande do Sul, in the far south, did not display the least willingness to lay down their arms. Despite these problems, the position of the national government was immensely strengthened by the disappearance of the regency regime. In its place existed a single authority, endowed with inherited legitimacy, exalted by its ceremonial duties, positioned above partisan and personal interests, and possessed of constitutional powers sufficient to resolve political conflicts. This vision of the monarch and his role was fully shared by the emperor himself. The fourteen-year-old accepted unquestioningly his ordained mission and threw himself wholeheartedly into his new duties. “He is much involved in the part of the government for which he is responsible,” the Austrian envoy reported on August , . “He comes almost every day into town by horse in order to visit the different branches of the administration, which he inspects quite thoroughly. He is developing much more energy and even physical strength than was expected.”1 Foreign diplomats were greatly impressed by the self-possession that from the start the emperor displayed in public.2 This rigid self-control and sense of certainty were manifest in the two private meetings that he had with Baron Daiser on the subject of spouses for himself and Princess Januária, his elder sister. “In the first meeting the young monarch was very timid and embarrassed; he blushed every time the topic of his marriage was raised;

  

   , ‒ but in the second, I was struck by the aplomb of his manner and the clarity with which he spoke about his meeting with his sister.”3 The single complaint about Pedro II’s behavior as monarch was his lack of social graces, and in particular his taciturnity. Since he rarely volunteered more than a word or two, maintaining a direct conversation with him was next to impossible.4 Exasperating as this habit was, it did protect the emperor from unconsidered remarks and undesirable commitments. Pedro II’s caution was the more desirable because the declaration of his majority placed him at the center of the nation’s affairs. His future as monarch was intertwined with that of Brazil. During the next five years, three imperatives—his own marriage and that of his two sisters and the birth of a male heir to the throne; the creation, or rather the revival, of a proper court; and control over the business of government—were to dominate Pedro II’s life. Even before Pedro II’s majority, his marriage and that of his sisters had been under discussion, if not actively pursued. Several European courts had made indirect overtures as to possible spouses. After the majority, the matter became immediate. The imperial family was composed of only three individuals, Pedro II and his sisters, D. Januária and D. Francisca, aged eighteen and sixteen respectively.5 The need for them to marry and to secure the succession was urgent. Above all else, the emperor had to produce a son and heir, preferably several sons. Even though the constitution stated that a female could inherit the throne, the gender prejudices of the age expected monarchs to be male, with the crown passing from father to son. Marriage to a member of a European royal family would serve to demonstrate the legitimacy of the Brazilian Empire and its equality with the monarchies of the Old World. Finally, as Baron Daiser aptly observed when discussing Pedro II’s personal qualities, “His only lack is guidance by influences of a high category, and above all by a spouse who seeks to merit his affection and his confidence, through the attractiveness of her person, the superiority of her education, and the prestige ever associated with an exalted birth.”6 Early in August  the minister of foreign affairs set in motion the quest for spouses for the emperor and his sisters. The revival of the Côrte e Casa ranked second only to the finding of spouses for Pedro II and his sisters as a means of ensuring the future security of the imperial regime. Monarchs did not and could not carry out their functions by themselves. The court provided the indispensable setting in which the emperor played his two major roles in public life. In the first, Pedro II embodied the nation and represented a power transcending time and space. In the second, he exercised authority and oversight over political life. The first role was principally expressed through a series of celebrations and ceremonies, often religious, while the second, which had some ceremonial aspects, mainly involved contact with

  

   , ‒ the politicians in office. In the first role the court provided the supporting cast and sometimes the actual setting for the ceremonies. In the second the court acted as a source of advice and support to the ruler and as a conduit to the political world. The absence of a court would eventually deprive any monarch of the ability to undertake both of these roles. The court also played an essential role in the private sphere. It protected the emperor, guarding him from external scrutiny and providing him opportunities for relaxation. The court’s support and cooperation made bearable the heavy duties that the two public roles imposed on the ruler. The court served finally to contain, control, and disguise the monarch’s faults and weaknesses. Since the court personnel were typically drawn at every level from families long established in service, the court acted as guardian of the larger interests of the monarchy as an institution. Given the young age of Pedro II in , a revived court could be of great influence in placing his reign on a firm foundation. The third imperative faced by the monarch—the actual governance of Brazil—was in  the most immediate and important. The ending of the regency effected a profound change in the distribution of political power. Most of the attributes of the poder moderador [regulating power] had been denied to the regency in —above all, the power to dissolve the Chamber of Deputies— and these now revived in the hands of the emperor. As head of the poder moderador, Pedro II was not accountable in his exercise of this power which constituted, in the words of the  constitution, “the key to the political system.” In particular, the position of the cabinet ministers who conducted the daily business of government changed. They ceased to be accountable solely to the legislature. Appointed and dismissable by the monarch, they derived their authority from him and had to possess his confidence. Since the emperor could at any time dissolve the Chamber of Deputies, the ministers were poorly placed to challenge their subordination to the monarch. Pedro II’s immaturity and inexperience gave the first set of ministers named by him the potential to use their control of day-to-day business to entrench themselves in power. The emperor’s choice of his first cabinet in July  was therefore significant for the structure of politics during his reign. In fact, as the emperor later noted: “Starting to reign at the age of less than , I did not make a question of who should be ministers. They were drawn from those who had made me of age.”7 If the reports of the diplomats are to be trusted, the emperor’s role in the selection of a cabinet was not entirely passive. He wanted the marquis of Paranaguá, the president of the Senate who had declared him of age, to accept a portfolio. While Paranaguá refused the post on the grounds of age, he did advise on the choice of ministers.8 This first cabinet was formed of the two surviving

  

   , ‒

Figure . Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho, viscount of Sepetiba, senator and minister, wearing the uniform of a court chamberlain with the grand crosses of three different orders

Andrada brothers; Holanda Cavalcanti and his brother Francisco de Paula Cavalcanti de Albuquerque, leaders of their powerful Pernambuco clan; Antônio Limpo de Abreu, representing the Nativist group; and Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho, the friend of both D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães and Paulo Barbosa da Silva. Aureliano Coutinho, who took the portfolio of foreign affairs, was the only intimate of the emperor. As Pedro II later explained: “I got on well with Aureliano; I admired him for his qualities; however, I did not impose him as minister.”9 This liking for Aureliano Coutinho testifies to one of the emperor’s most admirable traits—his lack of race prejudice. As his portrait makes plain, the minister was of mixed racial descent, probably mainly European and Amerindian with some African ancestry.10 The incoming ministers were veterans of the political game, men skilled in manipulation. Having secured office through a bold and unscrupulous political maneuver, they were in no mood to let power escape their hands. However, as the Portuguese envoy noted, “the new ministers will necessarily command little

  

   , ‒ support in the present Chamber [of Deputies] and, in addition to the rivalry that exists between them, the Andradas as much as the Cavalcantis have many enemies who accuse them of vindictiveness, pride and hotheadedness. It is generally believed that this ministry will be short lived.”11 Despite their disinclination to take second place, the ministers had no choice but to court and conciliate the young monarch in order to strengthen their position. The ministers did nothing therefore to challenge Pedro II’s primacy. Their conduct toward him was one of deference and compliance. When he desired that his coronation should take place on December , , his fifteenth birthday, the ministers at first acquiesced and only later, using the argument that the ceremony should occur when the legislature was in session, persuaded him to delay the ceremony until at least May .12 The annual civil list (the grant received by the crown for its personal and court expenses), originally set at four hundred contos de réis, was increased to six hundred, and finally raised to eight hundred contos.13 Every effort was made to exalt the monarch’s position and to increase the emperor’s prestige with the general population. Central to achieving these ends was the creation of an impressive court in the tradition of Pedro I. The first step taken was to fill the ceremonial posts vacant since his abdication. The marquis of São João da Palma, a member of the old Portuguese nobility, was confirmed as lord high steward [mordomo mor], and Paulo Barbosa da Silva continued in charge of the imperial household and its finances, as steward and porter of the imperial chamber [mordomo e porteiro da imperial câmara]. The marquis of Itanhaem, who had served as Pedro II’s guardian, was appointed to be master of the horse [estribeiro mor]; D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães, his former governess, to be mistress of the robes [camareira mor], and Frei Pedro de Santa Mariana, who had been the emperor’s aio [supervisor], to be grand almoner [esmoler mor]. On August , the birthday of Pedro II’s second sister, D. Francisca, a great many more promotions and appointments were made in the court and household personnel, particularly the nomination of chamberlains [gentishomens da imperial câmara], among whom were included the cabinet ministers.14 Since ministers wore at official ceremonies the uniform of a court chamberlain (see Figure ), the cabinet members’ appointment likely caused no surprise. The revival of the court required far more than the naming of personnel. Although Paulo Barbosa da Silva had done much since  with limited means to refurbish the two palaces and to acquire some of the furnishings of a court, far more needed to be done if the material side of court life were to exhibit the richness and splendor that would command awe and respect. With the emperor’s income now quadrupled, the mordomo embarked on a program of acquisitions both in Brazil and abroad. In  a dinner service for the emperor was pur-

  

   , ‒ chased in London and in the following year “three very elegant Coaches” and “two elegant Town Barouches” with their fittings.15 The third aspect of the court on which action had to be taken related to the organization of the imperial household, and in particular the regulation of its etiquette and ceremonies. At the end of July , Baron Daiser requested the Austrian government to supply him with “a précis of the entire etiquette of our court” which, while it could never be applied unmodified, could serve “as a base, as a guide,” since “there exists here only confusion and a capricious arbitrariness which at times causes embarrassment and will cause even more in the future.”16 This need for action was shared by the emperor, as revealed in the letter he addressed early in August to the lord high steward: “I forgot to tell you that making a regulation for the imperial household is very necessary; I intend to select you and the marquis, the Master of the Horse, to compose it together and then to show it to me; although I must first talk to my ministry about my intention and selection.”17 The emperor’s desire was not fulfilled, probably because a serious accident suffered shortly after by the lord high steward forced his withdrawal from the court until his death in March .18 If a code for the imperial household was not achieved, action was taken on some specific points of etiquette and ceremony. An order issued by Paulo Barbosa on August , , regulated the right of access to court and to the emperor’s personal apartments (what the French termed the entrée), which was based in part on the individual’s lineage and in part on rank of office held. This order also announced that each week the emperor would hold two business meetings [despachos] with his ministers and two public audiences.19 A circular sent the next day by the minister of foreign affairs to the resident diplomats named the first Friday in each month “between seven and eight o’clock in the evening” as the time when the emperor would receive those “who wish to have the honor of complimenting the Said August Lord.”20 A separate regulation specified the court uniforms to be worn at the formal court ceremonies during the year when the emperor offered the beija-mão and received compliments. In recognition of changing fashion, the regulation replaced the knee breeches of Pedro I’s time with trousers of white cashmere with a gold strip down the leg.21 All this activity was viewed by some, including the Portuguese envoy, as expending a great deal of time and energy on very little of substance. The business of government, he reported at the end of August , was being stifled by “the revival of a Court, of which they have been, since the majority of H. M. the emperor, attempting not just to restore but even to exaggerate the former ceremonies, in spite of the difficulty caused by a hiatus of ten years that has caused traditions (themselves recently established) to be forgotten.” Further, “the ordinary effect of these factors is further increased by the rank of chamberlain

  

   , ‒ which has been bestowed on all the ministers and by the necessity in which they are [thereby] placed of accompanying H. I. M., by reason of his tender age, at all his public appearances.”22 The Portuguese envoy attributed the constant attendance of the ministers on Pedro II to the absence of anyone among the senior court officials and servants who enjoyed any authority and influence.23 The real reason for this devotion to their monarch was a great deal more sinister. By being always in the emperor’s company during his public engagements, the ministers could stop him from meeting anyone actually or potentially their rivals, and prevent him from hearing views which challenged their dominance. Entry to court was equally controlled by Paulo Barbosa da Silva in his capacity as porter of the imperial chamber. Dr. João Fernandes Tavares, a médico imperial da câmara who had served Pedro I in both Brazil and Portugal, was prohibited entry to the paço late in . Members of the court whose close links to the ministers’ foes made them a possible avenue of hostile access to the emperor lost their posts or were given assignments distant from Rio de Janeiro. João Damby, who had taught Pedro II to ride, was dismissed from the imperial service, while João Carlos Pardal, a guarda roupa, was named to be head of the gunpowder factory at Estrela, outside of Rio de Janeiro.24 Elimination of rivals real and potential and control of access to the monarch created a cordon sanitaire around Pedro II. In order to prevent the young emperor from appreciating this state of affairs, he was kept continuously occupied with public meetings, the routine of government business, and continued study. A letter written by Paulo Barbosa da Silva to the minister of foreign affairs is revealing on this point. The emperor came to the [city] palace, without visiting the Glória church. I told him that you had said to me that today the audience [with the ministers] could only be held after the public reception, because the ministry had to have a long cabinet meeting and that you had encharged me with telling him this. He agreed to this, but since he has nothing to occupy him before dinner, it would be best if your excellencies were to hold your cabinet meetings on Friday so that the audience could take place on Saturday morning, because he cannot be left idle, and for him to come to the city in the evening is not advisable due to the thunder storms.25

The busy round of activities, orchestrated by the ministers and Paulo Barbosa, did achieve its goal of keeping the emperor isolated and unaware of being manipulated. Two unintended benefits flowed from these schemes. Until July  the emperor had rarely ventured outside his palaces. Through the constant round of visits that he now undertook, Pedro II began to acquire a familiarity

  

   , ‒ with the actual institutions of rule. Secondly, the emperor’s busy schedule constituted an admirable training in handling the routine of governance. Pedro II proved resilient in the face of the heavy demands on his time and energies. His makeup was, in fact, well suited to the task his birth had given him. By character he held naturally to a fixed routine. In a dispatch of November , , Baron Daiser described how the emperor spent his days. As before his majority, Pedro II lived at São Cristóvão. Getting up between five and six in the morning, he dressed and said his prayers. He read petitions and newspapers until nine o’clock, when he started his lessons, which lasted until two in the afternoon. He then dined with his sisters in his apartments. Afterward he took exercise, sometimes on foot or in a carriage, but mostly riding. The evening was occupied with meetings and receptions lasting until supper, which he ate with his sisters in their apartments. On Thursday evenings Pedro II went into Rio to attend a performance at the Portuguese-language theater. On Saturday mornings he and his sisters traveled to the Glória church in the center of Rio de Janeiro, and there at half-past seven they heard mass. He then held in the Paço da Cidade the second of his two weekly meetings [despachos] with the ministers, visited public offices, and in the evening he attended the French-language theater. In the despachos the emperor was informed about the topics discussed by the cabinet, but he did not, according to Baron Daiser, intervene in the making of decisions save on some matters of patronage.26 In the months following his majority, the emperor matured physically, gaining at least two inches in height. “Dom Pedro is a fine, hearty looking youth,” a clerk on a U.S. warship commented, “so large and stout as to render him much older looking, than he really is.”27 When he reached his full height of six feet and three inches, the emperor towered above his fellow Brazilians, increasing his sense of both separateness and superiority.28 His emotional development continued, however, to lag behind, as the two brief diaries he kept at this period attest. The first diary—of which no more than a single entry has survived—is so revealing that it merits quotation in full: August , . I woke up at ½; at just before ½ the deputy [Antônio] Navarro [de Abreu] appeared, and requested a private audience with me, in which he asked that he be nominated my oficial de gabinete [private secretary]. At eight, I had lunch [almoço], and lunch finished, I went to the quarters of my Sisters, to the school room, to see my Sisters.29 It happened that my Sister [D. Francisca], not paying attention, I told her off and she turned her back on me; I gave her a blow, without meaning to do so, and she burst into a flood of tears.

  

   , ‒ I withdrew. A little later Dona Mariana [de Verna Magalhães] came to find me, telling me that my Sister was crying, that I should make it up with her; I did not want to. After this, Madame Intriguer railed against the courtiers-in-waiting, calling the physician “Farce [Farçola]” and the others “fools,” intriguing against them, saying that they want to bias me against my Sisters. What a lie!30

The petulance and arrogance evident in the emperor’s conduct might be expected in any fourteen year old, but equally significant were his self-centeredness and feeling of superiority to both his sisters and all other mortals. This sense of being the center of the world is apparent in the opening passage of his second diary: “At  in the morning the salutes were already echoing from the hills of São Cristóvão and the unfurled flags waved in the cerulean sky; these were the acknowledgments of the day of my birth, December , a memorable day in the history of Brazil.”31 The entry contains a detailed recounting of the birthday celebrations held in the city: a mass in the imperial chapel, a parade of National Guard units, a beija-mão ceremony, and in the evening a play at the theater. “The play finished, sleepily I returned home, sleepily I undressed, sleepily I lay down; do me the favor of letting me sleep; I am very tired, the tedium is not small.”32 As the above passage suggests, a strain of ironic humor runs through the entries in this diary, which cover December –, . The humor is most evident in the passages on the emperor’s more boring duties. At the same time that Pedro II saw himself as the center of the world, he also appreciated how transitory, foolish, and unreal that world was. He was simultaneously committed to and yet skeptical of the role assigned to him in life. Making entries in a diary allowed Pedro II to comment and reflect on his daily activities, express his observations about people and events around him, and give vent to his feelings. As a consequence, he intermittently kept a diary throughout his life. Discretion made him destroy some of them, but at least forty-five diaries have survived, the earliest of any length dating from . They provide the most intimate glimpses we have of the makeup of the man who would rule Brazil for almost half a century.33 Notwithstanding the vein of skeptical observation evident in the  diary, the text indicates no consciousness on Pedro II’s part of his being managed and kept isolated by his ministers and the mordomo. The young emperor could not be termed weak or passive. On December  he took the trouble “to meditate on the list of honors, in order to see if they were just or not.” “Because of the loyalty and love with which [Bento Antônio] Vahia and [Pedro Caldeira] Brant have served me [as court chamberlains], I named the first count, with grandeza [right

  

   , ‒ of entry to the court], of Sarapuí and the second [count] of Iguaçu.”34 Pedro II insisted that his ministers seek in the utmost confidentiality from the papacy the nomination of Frei Pedro de Mariana, his former aio, as a bishop in partibus.35 Nonetheless, nothing in his diaries indicates that he possessed an understanding of the larger issues debated and decided in his presence or that he had any sense of the intrigues surrounding him. Pedro II went along with the flow of events. He consented to the plans, developed in accord with the Baron Daiser, to arrange a marriage for him with a Habsburg archduchess and to secure from the same family a husband for his elder sister D. Januária. In conditions of great secrecy (although everyone of any standing guessed what was afoot) the undersecretary for foreign affairs departed for Vienna on this mission early in December .36 His eventual success depended upon the goodwill of Prince Metternich, who in effect ruled the Austrian Empire. The ministers were markedly less successful in their handling of the country’s affairs than they were in managing the emperor. In particular, the ministers failed totally to pacify the province of Rio Grande do Sul. Neither by negotiations nor by warfare could the rebels be made to lay down their arms. This failure cost the cabinet much prestige. Even more disastrous was the use that the two Andrada brothers made of the government’s powers to elect their own supporters to the new Chamber of Deputies. So crude and so violent were the means employed that many interests otherwise not hostile to the government were alienated.37 These failures exposed the latent divisions existing within the cabinet. Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho took good care to distance himself from the Andrada brothers and their conduct of affairs. On their side, the Andrada brothers had no intention of letting Aureliano Coutinho and his ally at court, Paulo Barbosa da Silva, the mordomo, outmaneuver them. Having isolated the emperor with the mordomo’s assistance, the brothers moved to destroy Barbosa da Silva’s influence at court and thereby undercut Aureliano Coutinho’s position. Citing precedents from Portugal, Antônio Carlos claimed that he, as minister of the empire (interior), rather than Paulo Barbosa, as steward, should exercise the functions of lord high steward [mordomo mor] whenever he was absent from court. The Andradas further argued that, as a veador [gentleman usher], Barbosa da Silva’s rank at court made him too senior to serve in the lowly but key post of porter of the imperial chamber [porteiro da imperial câmara], which controlled access to the emperor’s person.38 A strategy more destined to fail could scarcely be imagined. The Andradas held office entirely through the goodwill of the monarch. That goodwill had been given to them as a result of the young emperor’s confidence in Aureliano

  

   , ‒ Coutinho and Paulo Barbosa. The Andradas had not gained Pedro II’s exclusive confidence or broken his links with the minister and the steward of the household [mordomo]. By making the emperor aware of the nature of the Andradas’ intrigues, the two favorites could deprive the brothers of the monarch’s goodwill. By January  this process was well under way. Baron Daiser reported to Vienna: “The Emperor Dom Pedro has left one tutelage only to fall under another; I have even been told that His Majesty has remarked that in the place of one guardian, he now has several.” “The Andradas are detested,” the Austrian envoy continued, adding that “the ministry is in a state of complete anarchy.”39 In March  the deteriorating situation in Rio Grande do Sul provided the means for replacing the cabinet. Aureliano Coutinho deftly maneuvered the Andrada brothers into offering their resignation to the emperor. Instead of rejecting that offer and so confirming the Andradas in power, Pedro II entrusted the formation of a new ministry to the marquis of Paranaguá in cooperation with Aureliano Coutinho. They had no difficulty in doing so. Aureliano Coutinho continued to serve as minister for foreign affairs with Paranaguá becoming minister of the navy. A political veteran of the first reign, –, and two supporters of the Regresso, the conservative reaction of –, took the other three portfolios.40 The emperor was far more at ease with the incoming cabinet than he had been with its predecessor. Cândido José de Araújo Viana, the new minister of the empire, had since  been director of his literary studies. The ministers of finance and justice were cultivated, urbane men with a personal knowledge of France, qualities which the emperor valued. The marquis of Paranaguá and José Clemente Pereira, who had played a prominent role in Brazil’s struggle for independence, commanded Pedro II’s respect by the very fact that they had served his father. The cabinet was among the most able of those to hold office during the emperor’s reign, and the measures it took during its almost two years in office gave shape to the political machinery which was to control Brazil during the next half-century. Pedro II’s increasing maturity is evident in his determination to take a more active role in the conduct of affairs than he had with the previous cabinet. At the emperor’s insistence the ministers provided him with a précis of the matters discussed in their conferências [cabinet meetings], so that he would know in advance what was to be decided at the twice-weekly despachos.41 Pedro II kept himself fully occupied with state affairs. Writing a brief letter to his sister, D. Maria II of Portugal, in September , he ended: “Who has a kingdom has no time.”42 The emperor’s standing was enhanced by his coronation, which, set for May, was finally held on July , . The week-long public festivities were described by Baron Daiser as being of a magnificence unequaled in the history of Brazil.

  

   , ‒ He singled out for especial praise Pedro II’s conduct during the long coronation ceremony and the public acclamation which followed it: “The young ruler looked extremely well in his robes, before and after the crowning, and he bore up wonderfully under the burdens of the day of the th, to the extent of talking frequently with the members of his cortège.”43 To celebrate his coronation, Pedro II granted a large number of titles and honors and authorized several acts of beneficence. He freed the twenty slaves (eighteen instrumentalists and two singers) who performed at the ceremonies, and authorized the creation of a hospital bearing his name (Hospício D. Pedro II) for the treatment of the mentally ill.44 Such acts of charity, which continued throughout his reign, explain why he was often termed in praise “the Magnanimous” [O Magnânimo]. Late in  Aureliano Coutinho informed the Austrian envoy: “The emperor’s character has conspicuously aided the course that the present ministry has taken. This young prince possesses in effect all the qualities desirable in someone occupying his high position.”45 These remarks cannot be termed disinterested, and it may be questioned how much benefit the cabinet did derive from the wisdom of a boy aged fifteen. Nonetheless, the comment does indicate that Pedro II was contributing more to public life than just the conscientious fulfillment of his duties. Aureliano Coutinho was probably referring to several emerging traits that came to typify Pedro II as a ruler. He was able to handle simultaneously a vast range of diverse subjects, giving to each close attention. He could listen to and could evaluate contesting arguments. He was quietly tenacious in holding a chosen course of action, once he had selected it. This adamantine perseverance was essential in keeping the cabinet together and ensuring its survival. The ministers lacked homogeneity in their views and any sense of mutual loyalty. In particular, the majority of the cabinet mistrusted Aureliano Coutinho, who had insisted that his brother, Saturnino de Sousa e Oliveira, be named president of Rio Grande do Sul. The new president proved no more successful than his predecessors in suppressing the rebellion in that province. Another cause for dissension within the cabinet was the extremely heavy and ambitious legislative program which the ministers sought to push through the chambers. The government’s measures encountered fierce opposition from the two Andrada brothers and the Nativist politicians recently ousted from power. This opposition was “small in number, it is true,” the French envoy reported, “but redoubtable for its activity, boldness and—it cannot be denied— the talents and capacity of the chiefs who direct it.”46 The cabinet’s foes proved adept in exploiting points of disagreement and inflaming personal conflicts within the cabinet. The long and bitter struggle in the legislature often put the ministry’s continuance in question. However, the measures the government supported were at length enacted.47

  

   , ‒ The first law revived the Council of State [Conselho de Estado], abolished by the constitutional amendment of , and endowed it with very considerable powers. The restored council played an important role in national affairs. The emperor consulted with it on most matters involving his use of the regulating power. The Council of State also gave advisory opinions on nearly all questions involving policy formation and interpretation of the constitution. Although these opinions were advisory, they were accepted as binding. Composed of twelve ordinary members and up to twelve extraordinary members named by the emperor to indefinite terms, the revived Conselho de Estado, whose members were principally senior statesmen of the regency period, was from the start the inner sanctum of the regime.48 A second law was more sweeping in its impact on the social and political order. A series of measures enacted from  onward had placed policing powers in the hands of elected juizes de paz [justices of the peace] and of the provincial assemblies. The disorders of the regency period were increasingly blamed on this system of policing and, in May , just before the majority crisis, a law “interpreting” the provisions of the Ato Adicional had restored authority over justice and police to the imperial government. The second law, enacted on December , , recentralized the justice system. It stripped the juizes de paz of most of their powers and replaced them with police agents [delegados and subdelegados] named and directed by the provincial presidents, who were the appointed agents of the national government.49 The law’s effect was to deprive both municipalities and provinces of control over their affairs. The resentment against the government at Rio caused by these and other measures did not, however, affect the emperor’s popularity. “Support for keeping the monarchy is thus stronger than ever,” Baron Daiser reported in October ; “everyone sees it as the sole guarantee of order, of prosperity both general and individual and the assurance of a future.”50 The one area in which success eluded the cabinet was in finding spouses for the emperor and his sisters. The special envoy appointed to negotiate with Metternich arrived at Vienna in March  to find his mission accorded no priority and little interest. At an interview in May, Metternich warned him that, while reasons of state presented no problems, personal considerations did.51 The number of suitable females in the Habsburg clan was small and the candidates for their hand were many. Not until December could the envoy bring Metternich to the point. The emperor’s youth was the main obstacle. He might indeed look as if he were nineteen or twenty but none of the eligible princesses believed the story. Metternich had obviously exerted no pressure in favor of any marriage with Pedro II, much less with his sisters.52

  

   , ‒  .    ,    ( ) Ferdinand IV = Maria Carolina of Austria Maria Theresa = Francis I emperor of Austria

Francis I = Maria Isabella princess of Spain

Maria Amélie = Louis Philippe king of the French (  ) Francisca = François prince of princess of Brazil Joinville

Leopoldina = Pedro I emperor of Brazil Januária = Luigi count of Áquila

Ferdinand II

Luigi count = Januária Teresa Christina = Pedro II emperor of of Áquila princess of Brazil Brazil

Francisca = François Pedro II = Teresa Cristina prince of Joinville

Luigi

Felipe Isabel

Leopoldina

This stalemate continued until early in , when the representative at Vienna of the kingdom of Naples informed the Brazilian agent that he held full powers to offer Pedro II a princess of the Bourbon Naples family for his bride. After discussions with Metternich, who made no counterproposal, the Brazilian agent proceeded with the negotiations. The proposed bride was Princess Teresa Cristina Maria, the youngest sister of King Ferdinand II of Naples. Three years older than her cousin Pedro II, she was, according to the Brazilian agent, “of marriageable age, good looking, and well educated, from a temperate climate, and in blood of the most illustrious.” The marriage treaty was concluded and sent to Naples for approval.53 Selecting a wife for a monarch without her first being subject to a personal inspection was standard practice. “Luckily for most princesses the question of their looks is not generally of vital importance,” so Princess Teresa Cristina’s great-niece commented many years later. “Religion and essential health for future maternity are the chief factors in a proposed match.”54 The envoy’s initiative was approved by the cabinet at Rio de Janeiro, and in addition the project for a match between D. Januária and a brother of Princess Teresa Cristina was set on foot.55 The marriage treaty, having been ratified by the king of Naples, was at once sent, together with a portrait of the princess, to Rio de Janeiro.56

  

   , ‒ While the marriage negotiations were proceeding, events of far greater moment had been unfolding in Brazil. The law restoring control of justice and the police to the imperial government had been enacted against the strong opposition of those who valued local autonomy. The law’s implementation, which disrupted the established structures of power at the municipal level, aroused even more agitation. Provincial rivalries intensified the conflict. The rising coffee interests in Rio de Janeiro province tended to support the new law, while the dominant interests in the wealthy but economically stagnant provinces of São Paulo and Minas Gerais in general opposed it. The provincial assemblies of São Paulo and Minas Gerais protested against the law. The opposition began a campaign of resistance intended to force the imperial government to suspend the law’s implementation.57 What gave added force to this campaign was the expectation among the cabinet’s foes that they would control the newly elected Chamber of Deputies due to meet at the start of May . In the preliminary meetings of the chamber, the opposition, headed by the Andrada brothers, sought to seat as many of their supporters as possible. The plan was that, once the session opened, the lower house would declare its lack of confidence in the existing ministry and thus force it out of office.58 The flaw to this plan—and one that the opposition should have appreciated—was that the regulating power gave the emperor the unfettered right to dissolve the Chamber of Deputies. Aureliano Coutinho had discussed employing this countermove with the Austrian envoy at the end of March . The ministry seized the initiative, and on May  the emperor, having consulted the Council of State, simply dissolved the new chamber on the eve of its formal opening.59 This move deprived the opposition of all legal means of ousting the cabinet and of blocking the implementation of the law centralizing the police. The consequence was three uncoordinated, almost spontaneous uprisings in the provinces of São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, and Minas Gerais during the months of May and June. The rebels claimed to be acting against tyrannical measures of the imperial government, which, they alleged, was holding the monarch captive. The rebels probably expected that such overt acts of armed resistance would be sufficient to achieve their ends. The cabinet, backed by the emperor, responded with unusual determination and vigor. Several prominent opposition politicians were deported abroad or held in administrative custody. Command of the government forces was given to Luís Alves de Lima, baron of Caxias, the scion of a distinguished military family. His father had served as one of the three regents from  to , and Caxias himself had proved his capacity and his loyalty by defeating revolts against the regime. In  he had rapidly suppressed the Balaiada revolt in southern Maranhão, for which success he had been made a baron. In  Caxias repeated his triumph. He first dispersed the rebels in São Paulo

  

   , ‒ without bloodshed and then, after one close but decisive battle late in August, overwhelmed those in Minas Gerais.60 It was on July , , the second anniversary of Pedro II’s majority, and in the middle of this civil war, that the marriage treaty together with the portrait of the intended bride arrived at Rio de Janeiro. A diary kept by the emperor for that day has survived. The document merits reproduction for the insights it gives both to the attitudes and to the way of life of this young man, now sixteen and a half years old. Before  .., about to have lunch, I receive a letter from José Clemente [Pereira, the minister of war], I open it and read, with some surprise, the announcement of the arrival of Luís Alves de Lima [baron of Caxias], of Aguiar [an army officer] and others, communicated by the commander of Fort Villegaignon [located on an island in Rio bay]. After finishing the meal, I sat quiet so as to have the benefit of hearing read by Mr. [José Francisco] Sigaud [a court physician] some pages of Victor Hugo’s agreeable work Le Rhin, which I left in order to go and talk with Paulo Barbosa da Silva.61 Entering the door of the secretariat of My Household, I asked the Mordomo: “What is the length in feet of the Colégio of the Guardian Angel?”62 Mordomo: “I don’t know, Sire.” I: “Sit down” and I sat down. The conversation began which, for greater clarity, I give in dialogue form: Mordomo: “Your Majesty is admired for your tenacity.” I: “Without which nothing is achieved.” Mordomo: “And for your reserve.” I: “Some time ago some people, when they saw me sad, were upset.” Mordomo: “I was very disturbed.” I: “They thought that I was disheartened; I had not lost heart, nor did I have any cause for melancholy; it was like an attack of hypochondria.” Mordomo: “When younger, you even cried; nothing in the world pleased you.” I: “I judge that all monarchs ought at some point to be melancholy, because they are almost always forced to think things over.” Mordomo: “What I don’t find good in Your Majesty is your unceasing kindness; punishment is, at times, indispensable.” I: “I call it . . . [illegible text]” I looked at my watch and, seeing it was almost eleven, I walked, went up to my bedroom, I dressed, I came down at about eleven, went to the rooms

  

   , ‒ of my Sisters, I took them to the staircase, they got into their coach with the Mistress of the Robes and the procession left. The journey battered me because the horses went at a trot and I felt, without missing one, all the jolts, admittedly not hard, through the rich upholstery which came from England. Thank goodness the procession arrived at the City Palace where the court was awaiting me and, after a brief pause, I went with the court in front of me to the Chapel where I heard a Te-Deum intoned by the Very Slow, instead of the Very Reverend, Bishop Lord Chaplain. “Let us pray” says the [D. Manuel] Monte [Rodrigues de Araújo, bishop of Rio de Janeiro]. He prays, I kneel, the “Tantum ergo” is sung, the prince of the Church presents the adored Body of Christ and I, following the Lord Chaplain, withdraw. After I have found my Sisters, there appears the baron of Caxias who, having kissed my hand and those of my Sisters, joins the court where he meets with handshakes and other signs of pleasure at seeing him. “Who is that old man who is treating the Victor of São Paulo [baron of Caxias] so coldly?” “The marquis of Paranaguá who is much upset that the baron of Caxias has come to Rio de Janeiro.” José Clemente [Pereira, the minister of war] with his mincing walk approaches me and says, “It would be good if Your Majesty invited Caxias to dinner,” to which I reply with great good will, “Yes.” [Illegible passage of text.] I summon Paulo [Barbosa da Silva], whom I order to invite Caxias to dinner, whom I have previously made my aide-de-camp. Caxias presents his thanks; the ministers start talking to him. I go to the window, , National Guards present arms to me, the which I acknowledge by waving my hat. The trumpet sounds, the artillery corps forms up and gives a  gun salute, the which is followed by a rifle salvo and the musicians play the national anthem. After two more salutes, the commander of the National Guard orders the doffing of their helmets and gives cheers to Me, my Sisters, the Constitution of the Empire. This finished, I go with my Sisters to the Throne, the court takes its place, and [the count of] San Martinho, a misanthrope, presents to me, speaking so low that I do not catch a word, the officials of a Sardinian ship. The moment arrives for the entry of the diplomatic corps. I get ready and [Ildefonso Leopoldo] Bayard [the Portuguese envoy] leads them in. He speaks and I reply: “This day is a national one. I greatly thank the diplomatic corps for the statement of its sentiments.” How much does not a formal court cost me, how it galls me, but it is a sign

  

   , ‒

Figure . Official portrait of Princess Teresa Cristina of Naples painted for Pedro II prior to their marriage, perhaps by an artist sent from Brazil

of gratitude from my beloved subjects; I must receive it with a happy face. There begin one, two, three speeches, seemingly without any end. Yes, there is one, and I can see it, it is the deputation from the Instituto [Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro], whose orator, Canon Januário [da Cunha Barbosa], in his long speech included a thought which pleased me, that is: “Excavating the base of Your Majesty’s throne its solidity is revealed,” alluding to disloyal subjects. I replied: “The sentiments of the Instituto are agreeable to me. A friend to books, I will always protect it.” Hardly able to contain myself due to tiredness, having given my hand to be kissed by the court, I went to sit down in the Audience Chamber, talking with my ministers. To it came Paulo to say that [José] Ribeiro [da Silva, diplomat at Vienna] had arrived, and we both said: “The marriage treaty, what good news, what a happy coincidence!” The minister of Foreign Affairs [Aureliano Coutinho] went out, and came back shortly after, with the dispatches of Bento da Silva Lisboa [the envoy at Vienna], and the portrait of my future wife, who is very beautiful and, some European newspapers report, very sensible and well educated. The former were opened and Aureliano gave me the treaty of my marriage with the sister of the king of the

  

   , ‒ Two Sicilies [Naples], Teresa Maria Cristina. We all, my ministers and I, went happily to dine; having finished it, I went up to my room where I took off the heavy load I was wearing. I hear someone coming up the stairs; it was Cândido [José de Araújo Viana, the minister of the empire] who asks for my permission to make public the happy event, the which, after some hesitation, I grant. The courtiers-in-waiting kiss my hand and afterward I am congratulated by the servants who had stayed on, save for the baron of Caxias. I take the portrait from Aureliano’s hands and I run to the room of my sister Januária; they knew already, I showed them the picture, which they very much liked. The baron of Caxias kisses my hand, for both motives. Having spent the rest of the evening with the courtiers-in-waiting, shortly after eight at night I showed myself to the people from the box of the Great Theater, and the Municipal Judge gave the cheers which were taken up. The anthem was played, the curtain rose and the actors were about to start the play when from one of the boxes came applause and a young man recited badly a poem, which perhaps itself was not bad. The comedy or drama was entitled “The Incendiaries” and the dance, which they called an anacreonatic ballet, perhaps because it was amorous, “Love Protects Love,” was a waste of time.63

The diary entry tells us much about the young monarch. His life embodied many paradoxes. The world he knew revolved around him and was subordinate to him, yet he was in many ways detached from it, an outside observer. He gave himself fully to his appointed role, but it did not fascinate him or bend him wholly to its will. Religion was an integral part of his life, but clearly he was no fanatic. He found both stimulus and escape in the science and literature of Europe, particularly of France, shared with those members of his court circle who were either European born or European trained, and with the members of the Instituto Histórico, the sole institution in Rio devoted to all branches of knowledge. Surrounded by familiar faces, he was to a great extent alone. His sisters did not qualify as intimates. The prospect of a wife who could be an intellectual companion was therefore extremely welcome. As the diary entry attests, the emperor’s writing was not light or stimulating. Despite the touches of irony, the approach was heavy and unimaginative. His account of the day’s events plodded determinedly and in order through all his activities, great and small. Finally, the diary showed little insight into and gave little weight to political events. Were it not for the appearance of the baron of Caxias, the reader would not know that much of the province of Minas Gerais was

  

   , ‒ still in the hands of rebels. A report on the emperor sent home by the French chargé d’affaires three weeks earlier, on July , summed up its subject well. He takes things as they are presented to him by his ministry, which considers this revolt to be the happiest development possible in order to distinguish his faithful subjects from disguised republicans. Secure in this belief, he leaves it to them to punish his enemies and devotes himself to his daily round. . . . At this moment, reading M. [Victor] Cousin’s translation of Plato, which he recently received, is one of his most cherished occupations. To sum up, he is still a true adolescent, a simple pupil, despite his seventeen years, and a pupil without a tutor, who has no settled opinion on any of the major questions of internal and external policy. . . . At the same time it is impossible to know his private thoughts. The terrors which dogged his childhood have made dissimulation a natural instinct and have given him an outlook of suspicion which is not belied by his awkward stance, his difficulty in making conversation, often replying with only one word, both in his public appearances and in private, when dealing with people who are not his intimates. Despite his questioning look and his taciturn reserve, unusual in one so young, together with his precocious aptitude for study, he is nonetheless quite backward in physical terms. Already stout and lymphatic in temperament, he has no taste for riding, traveling or physical exercise, which are generally needed at this stage in life. In a climate where the senses develop early, nothing indicates the first awakening of the passions in him; and he even shows a coldness and a marked dislike of women, declaring them to be incapable of managing business and of needing to be guided in everything by men.64

As this assessment of Pedro II in his seventeenth year suggests, his most critical weakness may have been his emotional immaturity, a factor that explains the anxiety of both ministers and courtiers to get him wed. On August  the government sent back its own ratification of the marriage treaty together with three portraits of the emperor. The ministers then began the preparations for transporting the empress from Naples to Rio de Janeiro.65 Not until March , , more than seven months later, did a squadron of three ships leave Rio for Naples. The delay was due in part to the lavish decoration and furnishing of the ships and in part to difficulties in selecting the new empress’s entourage. A contributing factor was the course taken by political events, particularly growing dissension within the cabinet. The government’s defeat, by the end of August , of the revolts in São Paulo and Minas Gerais had rendered its position very powerful. The ministry’s foes were either in prison charged with treason, held in administrative custody, or deported. Its supporters had been named to the new police system and to the reorganized judi-

  

   , ‒ ciary. The ministry systematically organized the elections held late in  to ensure election of the candidates it favored. In all these undertakings Aureliano Coutinho found himself increasingly ostracized and excluded by his fellow ministers. Unlike his cabinet colleagues, he had opposed the Regresso, –, and had given discrete support to the campaign for Pedro II’s immediate majority. His close links to Paulo Barbosa da Silva, and so his superior influence with the emperor, made him suspect. Above all, his attempts to create a political base for himself and his brother Saturnino de Sousa e Oliveira in their native province, Rio de Janeiro, were fiercely resisted by the dominant interests there, which viewed the brothers as upstarts. A concerted campaign was launched against the two. In October  Saturnino was forced out of the presidency of Rio Grande do Sul, which he had occupied since April .66 After the newly elected legislature opened on January , , Aureliano came under constant attack and sustained pressure to resign from the cabinet. That Aureliano had remained in office until this point in time can be attributed largely to the emperor’s goodwill. In September , Pedro II had selected him from a short list of three elected candidates to be senator for the province of Alagoas, a seat that was his for life. The emperor steadfastly refused to accept his proffered resignation as minister until it became obvious late in January  that his continuance in office was no longer possible. Pedro II seized the occasion of an open quarrel among the ministers during a despacho to replace the entire cabinet on January . The emperor’s mood is evident from a letter written to Aureliano Coutinho: If an individual’s malevolence obliges you to submit your resignation from the high office which you hold, and if the circumstances and principally your sense of honor lead me to grant it, Justice also imposes the duty on me not to listen anymore to the individual who has traduced a minister of My Crown. Come earlier tomorrow. D. Pedro °67

Since the legislature was in session when the ministers resigned, a new cabinet had to be formed without delay, and its members had to command the support of the chambers. The emperor entrusted the task to Honório Hermeto Carneiro Leão, later marquis of Paraná, who put together a cabinet on January . Carneiro Leão had proven his coolness and courage in May  when he organized and led the opposition in the Chamber of Deputies against Pedro II’s immediate majority. The nickname “El Rei Honório” [Boss Honório] was indicative of Carneiro Leão’s character. In the words of the French minister,

  

   , ‒ “Without having the title or the functions of a prime minister, he is the acknowledged chief of his colleagues and exercises a real authority in the chambers due to his powers of oratory.”68 Many years later Pedro II wrote of Carneiro Leão’s oratory: “His style of speaking was inelegant, and he had a stutter; but it vanished when he was aroused and at all times his arguments were tight knit, and somebody wittily remarked that the marquis of Paraná, when he stuttered, stuttered arguments.”69 The members of the incoming cabinet shared similar goals: support for a hierarchical society, insistence on economic independence for Brazil, refusal to interfere with the illicit slave trade with Africa, and rejection of any amnesty for those implicated in the  uprisings. In fact, this cabinet represented a new development in Brazil. With a clear political program, a disciplined majority in the lower house (but not in the Senate), a recognized leader, and a fledgling organization in the provinces, a political party—initially called “the party of order”—held power.70 Provided that the cabinet headed by Carneiro Leão could consolidate its hold on office and control the conduct of affairs, a parliamentary system of government similar to that existing in late Victorian England might emerge. If such happened, the young monarch’s prerogatives would diminish through disuse and the court would become only a minor player in politics. The key factor in deciding whether the Empire of Brazil would take this road lay in the willingness of Pedro II to accept or eschew a commanding role in the political system. For several months the new ministry seemed endowed with good fortune. The baron of Caxias, who replaced Saturnino de Sousa e Oliveira as president of Rio Grande do Sul, quickly gained the upper hand over the rebel forces. From this position of military strength Caxias opened secret negotiations to woo the rebels into an honorable submission. In its international relations, the government was able to resist pressure from Great Britain for a new commercial treaty, replacing the one signed in  and about to expire. On March , , the prince of Joinville, a younger son of King Louis Philippe of France, arrived at Rio. He had visited Rio once before, in . His mission in  was much more personal. His parents wanted Joinville, then aged twenty-four and very much a man of the world, to marry and settle down. D. Francisca, his eighteen-year-old cousin (see Figure ), was selected by them as a suitable bride. Joinville, loath to lose his freedom, agreed only to sail to Brazil and inspect the princess.71 In September  a new French envoy had been sent out to Brazil to prepare the ground for the match. In January , Aureliano Coutinho had informed the French diplomat that “the hand of Princess Francisca would be granted to us as soon as we made approaches on the topic.”72 The envoy naturally refused, in view of Joinville’s attitude, to make any move until the prince appeared. The

  

   , ‒ prospective bridegroom, in no mood to change his way of life, spent much time visiting the coasts of Africa on his way to Rio. Events following Joinville’s eventual arrival on March , , had the makings of a romantic novel. Although the couple’s first meeting was formal and even icy in tone, the mood soon changed. Joinville’s high spirits and sense of fun put even the emperor at ease and made him, as the Portuguese envoy noted with surprise, talkative. D. Francisca blossomed and gained confidence in this new atmosphere. At a picnic held in the Botanical Gardens on April  the couple’s interest in each other became obvious. Two days later, at a court ball, “seeing the prince choose the princess to be his [dance] partner four times, even though I had been told that he had little liking for this recreation,” the Portuguese envoy sounded out his French colleague as to the likelihood of a marriage. The match was agreed to shortly afterward and publicly announced on April .73 The marriage was celebrated in private at the beginning of May, and on the thirteenth of that month the newly wedded couple, visibly in love, sailed for France.74 For Pedro II, his sister’s wedding had considerable importance. In the first place, the whirlwind courtship raised his expectations about the romance and felicity that his own approaching marriage would bring. Secondly, D. Francisca’s departure reduced his family to a single sister, D. Januária, and made him more solitary than ever. Finally, through his relationship to Joinville, the emperor established a direct contact with the royal families of Europe. In the ensuing years letters from the prince of Joinville provided Pedro II with a regular and intelligent information on the state of affairs in the Old World. Joinville was also to act as the emperor’s trusted agent in family matters.75 Although the departure of D. Francisca saddened Pedro II, the approaching arrival of the future empress occupied more and more of his time and attention. He personally oversaw the renovations and the embellishment of the São Cristóvão place. The furniture for his own and D. Teresa Cristina’s apartments had been especially made in Paris.76 As far as material factors were concerned, everything had been done to favor the new couple. In personal terms, however, nothing had been done. Each had seen only official portraits of the other. The Brazilian envoy who had negotiated the marriage treaty traveled to Naples in August , where he met Princess Teresa Cristina for the first time. “The princess is gracious, and in her looks she shows the greatest gentleness and amiability, resembling somewhat D. Januária, the Imperial Princess.”77 On receiving in July  the ratified marriage treaty, the emperor had written to his future wife in Portuguese. D. Teresa Cristina responded in French, acknowledging his intentions to ensure her happiness, adding: “Be certain also that I will do everything in my power to contribute to that of Your Majesty; my entire desire will be to

  

   , ‒ please you and to merit, thanks to the advice you may kindly wish to give me, the affection of your subjects.” No further letters seem to have been exchanged. Only after the empress, married to Pedro II by proxy on May , , had already embarked on her voyage to Brazil, did she write again, and then merely to state that her younger brother, the count of Áquila, was accompanying her.78 When the squadron entered the harbor of Rio de Janeiro on September , , the spouses were so profoundly ignorant of each other’s looks and character as to be total strangers. As dusk fell, the emperor, accompanied by princess D. Januária, his courtiers, and his ministers, went on board to greet D. Teresa Cristina. What did they see? Neither Pedro II nor his wife wrote any account of their first encounter, but it can be reconstructed with some certainty. “The meeting between the August Spouses was quite constrained,” the French chargé d’affaires reported on September , “the which might be expected in view of the young monarch’s well-known character of reserve and timidity, from which he did not deviate on this occasion.”79 The constraint was almost certainly on Pedro II’s side alone. D. Teresa Cristina grew up in an age in which a woman’s role was to marry and to have children. Being a princess, the number of acceptable men who might choose her as a wife was very small. She was extremely lucky to wed an emperor. That her first glance revealed a tall, wellmade young man with blond hair and blue eyes and quite handsome despite his protruding jaw simply confirmed her good fortune. He became and would ever remain “my darling and beloved Pedro.”80 What did Pedro II see? Not the fairy princess he had envisaged. His bride was “short and dumpy” and, despite her sweetness of expression, plain. In the words of an observer, she “is not ugly but also not pretty.”81 When she moved forward to be presented to him, it became clear that she walked with a pronounced limp.82 His hopes and dreams died at that moment. His response was one of visible disgust and rejection. According to one report he turned his back on his bride, and another stated that he was so overcome that he had to sit down. “His emotion, his astonishment, in a word the reaction that he felt, was such that his knees gave way and he had to sit down, and this emotion was not of a tender nature.” He may have done both these things.83 The assembled court sought as best they could to smooth over and disguise the incident. An hour after his coming on board, the emperor left in his barge and the princess returned to her cabin. D. Teresa Cristina at least was under no illusion as to Pedro II’s feelings. In tears she embraced her lady-in-waiting and told her: “Elisa, the emperor did not like me.” The brutal rejection made her consider throwing herself overboard, and the traumatic moment lived on in her memory.84 By training and by character she was willing to submit to what fate brought, and she reconciled herself to the prospect of a loveless marriage from which death alone could free her. For

  

   , ‒

Figure . Pedro II and D. Teresa Cristina at the time of their wedding

the emperor, the decision was not nearly so easy. He wept on the shoulder of Paulo Barbosa. “They have deceived me, Dadama,” he cried out that evening to D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães. It took long hours of persuasion to convince him that he could not repudiate the bride chosen for him and that he must fulfill his duty. The wedding was fixed for the following day, September , and, whatever his internal torment, the young emperor had to present a good face to the world.85 A young clerk serving on board the U.S. schooner Enterprise, then stationed at Rio de Janeiro, got shore leave for the day and, slipping into the imperial chapel, left a record of the ceremony. The Chapel was crowded almost to suffocation when they [the imperial couple] took their places before the altar, but I was so fortunate as to secure a standing place against a pillar near the grand altar; which allowed me a full view of the parties and proceedings. . . . The Emperor was, or at least appeared to be, in very good spirits. He was plainly dressed in the uniform of a Colonel in the Army. . . . The only ornament of any kind that he wore on the occasion was a single military order

  

   , ‒ composed of brilliants, on his left breast. The Princess was dressed remarkably plain, wearing a dress of white lace over white satin, with a single band of splendid large Brazilian Diamonds, to confine her jet black hair, . . . Altogether, the appearance of the Princess was rather prepossessing. She is plain, modest, intelligent looking, and exceedingly healthy—although not what would be called a beautiful lady.86

The emperor and empress were attended by her brother, the count of Áquila, “a handsome commanding looking young fellow of two or three and twenty . . . neatly dressed in his appropriate naval uniform of blue, red, and white,” and by the emperor’s sister, D. Januária, “who was dressed after the same manner as the Bride, except for more ornaments about her person, which in my humble opinion did not improve her otherwise beautiful appearance.”87 “The marriage knot was tied by the head of the Roman Church in the Brazils, . . . 88 He performed the marriage ceremony in a very solemn and impressive manner; at least, I should suppose so from the movements, for owing to the unavoidable noise occasioned by such an immense concourse of persons, I could not hear a word of the service. . . . At the conclusion of this performance, the Royal couple arose, and retired through the same passage as they had entered, to the privacy of the Palace.”89 If the U.S. navy clerk could not follow the newlyweds into the city palace, the Portuguese chargé d’affaires was able to do so. “We went to the public rooms where the reception was to be held, to which we had been invited. Shortly afterward, the minister of foreign affairs appeared and told us that in consequence of H. M. the emperor being very tired, we would not have the honor of being presented to him on that occasion.”90 The emperor did attend the state banquet “of  covers” held that evening at São Cristóvão palace, but the strain which keeping up appearances imposed on him was clearly considerable. The ceremony of blessing the nuptial bed had preceded the banquet, but what happened after the meal was finished and the young couple were finally left alone was another question.91 A principal purpose of the marriage was to produce heirs to the throne. The empress was not to become pregnant until June , ten months after the wedding day. There could be many reasons for this long delay. A diary kept by a member of the Chamber of Deputies noted on October , 3: “They say that the P. is impotent. No sign of copulation has been found on the sheets.”92 According to an oral tradition gathered by the historian Tobias Monteiro: “The emperor refused for many days to initiate conjugal life. The empress wept and asked that they return her to her parents. In the end the emperor’s heart was touched and he finally consented to perform his spousal duties. Life however continued to be unfriendly. Pedro II harassed her in many ways. At meal times, if

  

   , ‒ she did not like a dish, he asked for it again.” The empress bore this treatment with unending patience and good humor.93 She was eventually to be rewarded. D. Januária had been dangerously ill throughout October. In the middle of November, in order to speed her recovery, the court moved from São Cristóvão palace to a country house outside Rio. The new setting and the availability of outdoor recreation of many types slowly wrought a change of habit and mood in the emperor.94 Forced to leave his wife behind during a short visit to São Cristóvão on December , Pedro II wrote: “Dear Teresa, I very much feel this separation, even though it’s short, because tomorrow evening as early as possible, I intend to be in your sweet company. . . . Your spouse who tenderly embraces you.” This letter crossed with one (in French) from the empress: “Dear Pedro, Six hours have already passed since I parted from you and I can’t console myself; and the idea that I won’t see you until tomorrow saddens me even more. . . . I beg you not to forget the sincere friend who is always thinking of you; I embrace you tenderly and I am for life, your aff ’te spouse.”95 What brought the couple together must have been physical intimacy, an increasing fund of shared experiences, and some common interests. From D. Teresa Cristina the emperor learned Italian and acquired a taste for music and opera. “I was very content when I learned that you have an Italian [opera] company and that you my Brother are enjoying it,” wrote D. Francisca, replying to a letter the emperor sent her on March , . “That surprises me, you my Brother who were always bored with music.”96 His interest awakened by his wife, he remained a lover of music for the rest of his life, attending concerts and opera whenever he could. If the emperor’s personal life thus settled down into a state of contentment, the same could not be said of public affairs. The cabinet that Carneiro Leão had formed on January , , steadfastly refused to grant amnesty to those involved in the  uprisings, even though many had been in prison for nearly a year and the chances of persuading any jury to convict became increasingly unlikely. The ministry also insisted on pursuing charges against five senators involved in the revolts, so that the upper house could try them. The Senate’s time and energies were consumed in wrangles over this subject. In consequence the government’s legislative program was stalled despite a session of ten months. The cabinet’s intransigence lost them the goodwill of many who were otherwise friendly toward the ministry.97 These conditions made the cabinet very susceptible to attack, which was all the more threatening when it came from within the ranks of the administration itself. On being removed as president of Rio Grande do Sul in October , Saturnino de Sousa e Oliveira, Aureliano Coutinho’s brother, had resumed his previous post as inspector of the Rio de Janeiro customs house, through which

  

   , ‒

Figure . Honório Hermeto Carneiro Leão, marquis of Paraná, Conservative party leader, senator, and president of the Council of Ministers

flowed half the trade of Brazil and from which the imperial government drew the bulk of its revenues. Saturnino’s failure to be elected a deputy from Rio province, followed by his brother’s fall from office in January , made him antagonistic toward the new cabinet. Probably encouraged by Aureliano Coutinho and Paulo Barbosa, who sensed the weakened position of the ministry, Saturnino de Sousa e Oliveira embarked on a covert campaign of hostilities. In January , when a seat in the Senate from Rio de Janeiro province became vacant and elections were held to choose a short list of three candidates, Saturnino ran as an independent against the government’s slate headed by the minister of the navy. This overt challenge to the cabinet, not to be expected in the holder of an administrative post of confidence, determined the ministry to ask the emperor for Saturnino’s immediate dismissal.98 This request the emperor denied. The chief minister, Carneiro Leão, presented it a second time at the end of January  as a question of confidence. Pedro II persisted in his refusal. Honório Hermeto then spoke his mind in high-

  

   , ‒ handed terms, leaving the ministers with no option but to offer their resignation. Pedro II at once accepted. A quarter-century later, he explained his position: “I considered the dismissal to be unjust, and due to the manner in which Carneiro Leão insisted on it I thought that if I gave way I would be considered weak. Nobody influenced my mind to take this course, and later on when my character was known I would have given way, even because experience has taught me that political turnabouts rectify sooner or later the unjust acts for which they are responsible.”99 The emperor’s retrospective account of the crisis is accurate as far as it goes. It underestimates, however, the influence that the court exerted at this point, both on Pedro II’s conduct and on the political scene. In February , the Portuguese minister—a man of ability, familiar with Rio de Janeiro, and speaking the same language—had reported that the long delay in naming members of the newly revived Council of State was due to the disputes among the ministers as to the proposed appointment of Paulo Barbosa da Silva. The mordomo’s administrative capacity, controlling the imperial household and organizing the coronation and other public ceremonies, had won him the nickname of o factotum de Joana, “the do-all of Joana,” the latter being the name of his country house near São Cristóvão. “And if these reasons were not enough to arouse a great resentment against him, he frequently discusses the public affairs of the state, and he does not disguise his decided preference for some members of the ministry and bias against others.”100 As mordomo, Paulo Barbosa was strategically placed. He enjoyed unrestricted access to Pedro II, whom he clearly knew how to handle. His formidable capacity for management and intrigue meant that his friendship was worth cultivating. Politicians at odds with him found that their careers did not flourish. If Paulo Barbosa failed to be chosen as a member of the revived Council of State, he did become a deputy in the legislature elected late in that year. After the ouster of Aureliano Coutinho from office in January , Paulo Barbosa’s residence served as a point of consultation for all those discontented with the new cabinet. The mordomo thus established links with a very diverse set of political interests. Although the emperor denied in retrospect that he had been influenced in making his decision against Saturnino de Sousa e Oliveira’s dismissal, the enemies of Paulo Barbosa had no doubts as to whose was the hidden hand in the affair. “Sr. Saturnino is the child of the Joanna,” one newspaper remarked when discussing his proposed dismissal.101 The inability of the fallen cabinet to secure the ouster of a disloyal subordinate was taken as proof of Paulo Barbosa’s dominance over the young emperor. The course of events following on the fall of the ministry led by Carneiro Leão strengthened the mordomo’s position in politics. The new cabinet, appointed on February , , was an exceedingly unconvinc-

  

   , ‒ ing affair, created and kept in power by court influence. Portfolios were doubled up, so that the cabinet contained only four instead of the usual six ministers, and of the four only one was a politician of standing. The cabinet’s declared program, one of “justice and tolerance,” promised to offer all things to all men. The ministers inspired little confidence, the Portuguese chargé d’affaires noted, “not only due to their not having a considerable party in the chamber, to their policy not being known, but because they are little experienced in public business.”102 Lacking credibility and independent strength, the cabinet was therefore peculiarly dependent upon the good will of Paulo Barbosa and his circle. In the list of promotions and honors which was issued on March , , in celebration of the empress’s twenty-second birthday, the mordomo was one of those benefiting from the new cabinet’s favor.103 On the same day a blanket amnesty was granted, covering everyone involved in the  uprisings, an act that conciliated the Nativist politicians ousted from office in March . At the start of April, Aureliano Coutinho was named president of Rio de Janeiro province, and other changes in personnel were made. These moves simply confirmed the opposition’s suspicions about “the existence of a palace party which is known as the Joanna.” “Does there or does there not exist a hidden power, superior to all the parliamentary powers, and which is known by the name of the Joanna?”104 Dismissal from office in January  of “the party of order” had not broken its strength as a political organization or diminished its faith in its right and ability to govern. When the legislative session opened in May, the new cabinet found itself facing a well-organized and implacable opposition. Try as they might, the ministers could not win over a majority in the lower house. As a result, the Chamber of Deputies was dissolved on May , with elections set for the month of September.105 The cabinet began to use its powers to secure the support of those political interests hostile or unattached to the “party of order.” Insecure and embattled, the ministers feared that their opponents would resort to any stratagem in order to regain power. These political developments provide the indispensable background for understanding a drama that from April to October  disrupted the imperial family. When she came to Brazil, D. Teresa Cristina had been accompanied by her younger brother, Luigi, count of Áquila. His selection as the empress’s escort was in no way fortuitous. D. Januária, as the heir presumptive to the throne and so prohibited by the constitution from leaving the country until the birth of a child to Pedro II, needed to get married and produce children as much as the emperor did. The prince, aged nineteen, made a good impression in official circles, and D. Januária found him very attractive. The match appealed to Pedro II, since it would provide him with male companionship, a substitute for the brother he had never had. The empress, to whom Brazil was still a strange

  

   , ‒ and not too friendly world, could only welcome the prospect of having her brother reside in Brazil. By the time the count of Áquila left Rio on October , , the union was more or less agreed on, the prince being expected to return in the early months of the following year.106 Only the king of Naples’s consent was needed, and a marriage treaty was easily arranged. On the morning of April , , the count of Áquila disembarked once again at Rio and was taken to the city palace. That afternoon the emperor paid a visit and took the count to São Cristóvão, where he spent the rest of the day with the imperial family. All seemed set fair for the future. No apparent problems troubled the young couple. Their relations with the emperor and his court were, however, uneasy from the start. The wedding itself was delayed for almost a week due to unexpected disputes over the marriage treaty. The honors awarded in celebration of the wedding failed to include D. Joaquina de Verna e Bilstein, the longtime lady-in-waiting to D. Januária, and her exclusion constituted a virtual insult to the newlyweds.107 Pedro II’s personal relations with the count of Áquila rapidly went sour. In the first days after the count’s arrival, the two young men had gone riding together, but that practice soon ended. By the end of May the French envoy noted that a rift existed between the brothers-in-law.108 By the middle of July the two men were no longer on speaking terms. The empress had to beg her husband that, as a special favor to her, he would pay her brother a visit, shake his hand, and wish him a happy twentieth birthday.109 The emperor’s attitude did not pass unnoticed. At official functions the count of Áquila was avoided by ministers and courtiers. This ostracism reached a peak on September , when D. Januária and her husband were deliberately not sent invitations to the gala celebrations of the first anniversary of the imperial marriage.110 Once the cause for the absence of the count of Áquila and D. Januária became public knowledge, the dispute was virtually impossible to settle.111 The principal responsibility for this quarrel has usually been assigned to the count of Áquila. His subsequent life, spent mostly in exile from his native Naples as a result of the unification of Italy in –, was not one that brought him much honor or credit. He became spendthrift and self-indulgent.112 However, qualities condemnable in the mature are excusable in the young. Raised at a large and sophisticated court, Áquila expected deference and was self-confident to a fault. An extrovert with an easy charm, he valued entertainment above study and pleasure above duty.113 A personality more contrary to and incompatible with the emperor’s would be hard to find. Given Áquila’s exuberant character, the dynamics of the relationship between the two couples almost guaranteed conflict. D Januária was in the first flush of love, eager to please her husband, and also, at least in her subconscious,

  

   , ‒ probably glad to escape her brother’s dictatorial ways. The empress was a dutiful wife, but the first months of her marriage had been difficult, and she shared few interests with her husband. With her brother, on the other hand, D. Teresa Cristina enjoyed long familiarity and was at ease. Pedro II was, accordingly, the odd person out in the foursome. Áquila’s behavior increasingly revealed the emperor as being insecure, immature, and lacking in social graces. Typical is Áquila’s comment, when Pedro II refused to accompany him and his wife to a ball: “Well, we are going to dance, and we leave you in your convent.”114 This conduct intensified the emperor’s isolation and his sense of insecurity. He came to see his brother-in-law as a threat to his position. Contending factions at court were only too ready to exploit these family conflicts. D. Joaquina de Verna e Bilstein, Princess Januária’s lady-in-waiting, had been a supporter of José Bonifácio as guardian and consequently a foe of her aunt, D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães, and of Paulo Barbosa da Silva. The latter may have been behind D. Joaquina’s exclusion from the honors list issued to celebrate the princess’s wedding, in which D. Mariana received the title of countess of Belmonte: “I am not sure for what reason,” the Portuguese envoy reported on May , , “since it would seem to have been more appropriate for this or some similar honor to have been given to the lady-in-waiting of Princess D. Januária.”115 D. Joaquina had every reason to be aggrieved and to look for allies. It is clear that the entourage which Áquila brought with him from Naples included individuals who had no intention of playing a passive and subservient role in palace life. In particular, the count’s chaplain and confessor was considered to be encouraging Áquila to assert his rights and to build up a following at court.116 Given Paulo Barbosa’s dominant position in the palace, this goal could be achieved only through the dismissal of the mordomo. By the end of May rumors were spreading “that Sr. Paulo Barbosa will shortly have to go to Europe, that the cabinet has settled with him that he has to remain for some time outside of Brazil, in a post of honor.”117 Nothing in the mordomo’s character suggested that he would tamely submit to such treatment or tolerate the existence at court of an authority rivaling his own. The struggle between the court factions was inevitably linked to the political conflicts. The cabinet which had taken office in February  was closely tied to Paulo Barbosa and his associates. If the mordomo were forced to withdraw from the court, the ministers’ prospects for survival would not be good. In sharp contrast, the “party of order” viewed Paulo Barbosa with implacable enmity. Any development which undermined his position worked to their advantage. The count of Áquila was accordingly treated with deference by those opposition leaders such as Carneiro Leão who retained their access to court.118 These contacts between Áquila and the opposition to the cabinet in office

  

   , ‒ were used to advantage by the mordomo and his friends. Playing on the emperor’s insecurity and on his fears, they convinced Pedro II that the count, his nascent faction, and the cabinet’s foes had joined in a plot to seize power and force the emperor from the throne. Áquila found himself increasingly shunned at palace functions and treated without the courtesies he considered his due. His open resentment at this treatment and his mounting dissatisfaction with life in Rio de Janeiro, which he dismissed as boring and uncivilized, heightened the tensions between the brothers-in-law. Áquila repeatedly requested the emperor’s permission for a leave of absence in Europe. In October, after quarreling with Pedro II at a state banquet, Áquila determined to depart, with or without authorization. Aided by the French envoy, he secured berths on the Reine Blanche, a French frigate about to sail for Brest. Despite the legal ban on D. Januária’s leaving Brazil and despite the entreaties of the emperor, of D. Teresa Cristina, and the ministers, nothing could shift Áquila from his resolve. Faced with the certainty of a public scandal if they refused, Pedro II and the ministers hastily granted a leave of absence to D. Januária and her husband and tried to persuade the count to delay until a Brazilian warship could be prepared to take the couple to Europe. All was in vain. Áquila rebuffed every conciliatory approach and, in a final insult, rejected the two courtiers appointed to accompany D. Januária and himself to Europe. On October , , the couple sailed from Rio de Janeiro.119 The emperor was left entirely alone, with only his wife for company.

  

 

Taking Charge, 1845–53

 When Pedro II turned nineteen on December , , he stood at what was the nadir of his reign. “Since the departure of Her Imperial Highness, the princess D. Januária,” the Austrian envoy reported, the emperor had been “completely isolated.”1 None of the participants in the six-month feud with the count of Áquila emerged with their standing intact, but Pedro II certainly suffered the most. The effects on his reputation and on his character were uniformly negative. His conduct toward his sister and her spouse showed him to be unworldly, conceited, and immature. In his handling of the affair he had displayed none of the political skills required of a successful ruler. In terms of the future security of the monarchy in Brazil, the departure of D. Januária and the count of Áquila was ill-considered. The emperor’s other brother-in-law, writing from France at the start of October, expressed the point extremely well:

W

I believe that no matter what problems the presence of the count of Áquila in Rio may cause Your Majesty, it is more advantageous for you in a constitutional country such as Brazil to retain around you an imperial family as numerous as possible. . . . The more princes there are surrounding a throne, princes who make themselves seen and known and who serve at the head of a branch of the administration or of society, the more the throne will gain strength from it, especially in a country such as Brazil where efforts by princes to acquire popularity are likely to be viewed with favor.2

The efficacy of the prince of Joinville’s advice may be questioned, since his father, Louis-Philippe, despite having five sons all active in public affairs, was to lose the French throne in . The suggestion does, nonetheless, point out how

  

 , ‒ utterly alone Pedro II was in Brazil. Disease or mischance could strike down the emperor at any time. Four to six months would pass before news of his death reached Europe and his successor, his elder sister D. Januária, would arrive in Brazil. The birth of D. Francisca’s first child in August  did provide an heir to the throne in the next generation, but, since the infant was neither male nor born in Brazil, the baby did little to improve the monarchy’s prospects for survival.3 By the end of  the emperor’s sisters had each produced two children. The revolution of  exiled D. Francisca and Joinville from France, and in  D. Januária and Áquila had to flee from Naples as a result of Garibaldi’s conquest of southern Italy, which was incorporated into the kingdom of Italy. Pedro II made no attempt to encourage either couple or their offspring to move to Brazil and so become part of the imperial family.4 In any event, neither the Áquilas nor the Joinvilles saw Brazil again, and Pedro II’s three nephews would make only brief visits to their mothers’ country. The emperor maintained a constant and indeed close correspondence with his two sisters and their husbands after they left Brazil. The breach with the Áquilas was repaired, and courteous relations maintained. The damage had, however, been done. Letter-writing was for Pedro II the ideal form of relationship with other humans, one in which he could set the nature and degree of intimacy. Constant face-to-face intimacy was quite another matter. In January  the Austrian envoy had commented on the serious “look which the young prince assumes on being approached by someone he does not ordinarily know.”5 Two years later, when José Bonifácio had been removed by force as the emperor’s guardian, Pedro II “did not display the least emotion,” the French envoy had reported. “He was, however, pleased to see his former governess Dona Mariana again.”6 The intrigues and rivalries at court intensified this emotional distancing. In May , shortly before Pedro II’s majority, Baron Daiser had commented with some hyperbole but essential accuracy: “The Emperor knows the characters and qualities of the people who surround him very well; he detests some and despises the rest; they all bore him, and he prefers to be by himself in his study or in his library in order to avoid their company.”7 In sum, Pedro II eschewed personal intimacy because it threatened both emotional hurt and loss of autonomy. The members of the emperor’s own family, particularly the men related to him by blood and marriage, should have pierced this emotional wall, but the quarrel with the count of Áquila had made them also suspect. The emperor put his trust in himself and himself alone. Writing in , forty years after the incident with Áquila, the emperor’s elder son-in-law complained about “the emperor never having liked intimacy with his family.”8 It was not that “the mainspring of his affective life had snapped,” as an American historian once observed, for

  

 , ‒ Pedro II pursued romance into late middle age.9 Ever present in these affairs of the heart were, however, an element of calculation, a separateness, and a discreteness that robbed them of their spontaneity. If Pedro II gave unreservedly of himself to anything, it was to his love for European culture and to his devotion to his native country. Since Pedro II tended more and more to identify Brazil with his own person, that devotion involved no loss of control. Nor did his love for Europe risk anything, since it lay safely on the other side of the Atlantic. In the context of , Pedro II’s mistrust of his relatives gave cause for alarm in part because it ensured his isolation, but even more because it indicated a lack of judgment and an insecurity that compromised his capacity to rule. The emperor was all too willing to pay heed to gossip, give credence to alleged plots against himself, and let his conduct be manipulated by those surrounding him. In particular, he appeared to be incapable of standing up to Paulo Barbosa da Silva, the mordomo. The Austrian envoy feared that the emperor would shortly be little more than a puppet in the hands of the mordomo and his allies.10 The popular quip, “Who governs? Paulo I or Pedro II?” reported by the French envoy, implied as much.11 The emperor was not in control and, on the evidence, seemed incapable of taking control of the country’s affairs. At the end of , the future did not promise well. Brazilians appeared to face a reign full of feuds, mishandled problems, and subordination to favorites. What followed during the next decade was the precise opposite. Adulthood brought out the most estimable traits in Pedro II’s character and lessened his weaknesses. The emperor blossomed as a personality, becoming courteous, affable, and fair minded. He took full control of his life and of the government. He developed notable skills in the handling of both people and business. He devoted himself to the study of the arts and sciences and established a reputation in Europe as a friend of learning and an intellectual in his own right. In sum Pedro II became a highly respected, even beloved, monarch whose dominance of the nation’s affairs was both welcome and unquestioned. The transformation occurred with such completeness and such speed that it warrants detailed examination. The causes can be summarized as the coming of adulthood, gaining of self-confidence, dispensing with favorites, identification with modernity, and finally mastering politics. Some of the transformation can be ascribed to the end of a very awkward and unhappy adolescence and the coming of adulthood. The change was marked by Pedro II’s deciding, at the age of twenty and a half, to grow a beard, perhaps hoping to mask his protruding jaw, a legacy from his Habsburg ancestors. At first, as Figure  shows, the beard ran along his jawline, with his lower lip and cheeks clean shaven.12 By the end of  the emperor had let the beard cover his whole face, and this style he retained for the remainder of his life.13 The

  

 , ‒

Figure . Pedro II, when he first grew a partial beard, aged about twenty-one or twenty-two

full beard gave him a dignity and presence that disguised his youth. Pedro II could, however, do nothing to change his voice, which an American visitor to Rio de Janeiro in  characterized as “rather feminine.”14 A politician, writing after the emperor’s death, was much less tactful on the subject. “We instinctively shuddered on hearing that squeaky, shrill, and discordant voice, which did not seem to emanate from such a large and splendid body.”15 The passage of the years and the growing of a beard were not of themselves sufficient to instill maturity. The most powerful cause for the changes was probably the experience of fatherhood. D. Teresa Cristina gave birth to a son, christened D. Afonso, at the end of February . In accord with the practice of the Portuguese monarchy, the delivery took place in the presence of the emperor, members of the court, and public officials. “As soon as the empress had given birth the emperor, who had not quitted her side for an instant, took the young prince in his arms and, showing him to the people around him, said with emotion: ‘Gentleman, it is a prince whom God . . . ’ at which point sobs choked his voice.”16 Pedro II was experiencing what one study has termed “engrossment.” Fathers present at the birth of their first born “develop a feeling of preoccupation, absorption and interest in the newborn. The father is gripped and held by this particular feeling and has a desire to look at, hold, and touch the infant.” “In

  

 , ‒ addition, . . . he feels an increased sense of self-esteem and worth when he is engrossed in his infant.” Another study endorses this conclusion. “Being nurturant, affectionate, and loving may be good for fathers as well as for babies. The opportunities to express these emotions to their children may allow men to become more expressive and gentle in their relationships with other people too.”17 In Pedro II’s case, the birth of a son broke through his emotional detachment from other humans, gave him a sense of rootedness, and built up a feeling of self-worth. Three more children—D. Isabel, D. Leopoldina, and D. Pedro— were to follow in , , and , respectively. Their offspring brought Pedro II and D. Teresa Cristina together in a relationship affectionate on his side and adoring on hers. Fatherhood gave the emperor the emotional security and the self-confidence so conspicuously missing during his childhood and adolescence, and these qualities were essential for the fulfillment of his duties as monarch. The change in personality wrought by fatherhood was accelerated and reinforced by the success of an official visit to the southern provinces of Brazil undertaken eight months after D. Afonso’s birth. Through a combination of victories in battle and generous concessions, the baron of Caxias had in March  brought to a close the separatist revolt which for a decade had racked the province of Rio Grande do Sul.18 The cabinet persuaded the emperor to undertake, accompanied by his wife, a tour of the province in order to publicize its reintegration into the Empire, to consolidate pacification, and to foster reconciliation. Leaving their infant son behind in Rio, the couple traveled south in October . The tour, its duration extended several times, lasted fully six months, until March . In Rio Grande do Sul, the emperor traveled through the heartland of the rebellion and was everywhere warmly received. The visits to the neighboring provinces of Santa Catarina and São Paulo aroused great public enthusiasm. The success was in large part due to a marked change in Pedro II’s conduct. For the first time in his twenty years, this young man was free of court life and the official world in Rio de Janeiro. His entourage was small in number and in no position to keep him isolated from his fellow Brazilians. He was suddenly his own person, in control of his own movements. The goodwill of his subjects was patent and their pleasure in seeing him no less visible. It was a time of happiness and self-assurance. “Already he has danced six cotillions in one night and has been at a ball held outside his residence and court, without fatigue and boredom, until one o’clock in the morning,” reported the minister of the empire (interior) who was accompanying Pedro II. “The emperor has profited a great deal by this visit, and the gain he has made in the good opinion and love of the people who have seen him is incalculable.”19 The empress shared in her hus-

  

 , ‒ band’s enhanced self-confidence and conceived her second child one month after the tour began. It was a memorable and happy time for her. “I recall very clearly the audience chamber and the room we stayed in  years ago,” she later wrote about the house they occupied in Pôrto Alegre, the capital of Rio Grande do Sul province.20 Pedro II’s letters to his wife written during moments of separation during the tour are light hearted and even joking. On his visit to the iron works at Ipanema, in São Paulo province, he quipped: “There was nothing worthy of inspection that I did not examine, and examine minutely.”21 The morose, awkward, and suspicious adolescent had been replaced by a man who could, when he chose, be charming and adept at setting people at their ease. Visiting the city of São Paulo in March , on the way back to Rio de Janeiro, the imperial couple inspected the Law School, one of two in Brazil. A young student was fascinated by the encounter with Pedro II, which he described in a letter home: He is affable with everyone, speaks to anyone, asks questions, and tries to be informed about the smallest things. He has gone about on foot like a simple citizen, accompanied only by those who want to be with him with no ceremony whatsoever; the distance which in the côrte separated him from the people has disappeared and this without the least loss to his dignity, since his prudence and his good manners cause everyone to esteem and respect him. The enthusiasm is great and he is very content. . . . He is very lively and, according to what everyone says, cultured beyond his years.22

This percipient account indicates how rapidly and easily Pedro II assimilated new experiences and benefited from them, a trait that balanced his innate conservatism. The letter also shows that, in March , with the monarch just twenty years old, the concept of the citizen emperor was already in existence. His conduct, his culture, and his concern for the public good made Pedro II everything that “a simple citizen” should be. Pedro II’s exemplary behavior, his learning, and his personal dignity did “cause everyone to esteem and respect him” as their ruler. The six-month tour brought Pedro II benefits far beyond a growth in his selfconfidence and his skills. Paulo Barbosa da Silva did not accompany him but remained in Rio de Janeiro, charged with oversight of the infant D. Afonso and management of the court. For the emperor the visit to the south meant that, for the first time in twelve years, Paulo Barbosa da Silva was no longer hovering at his elbow. Pedro II was able to act without supervision and censure and to find his feet. He became his own man during these months. Events in Rio de Janeiro also worked to bring to an end the rule of “Paulo I.” The mordomo soon found his time and attention occupied by matters far more serious than the need to find a new wet nurse for the young prince, who “did not object” to the change,

  

 , ‒ and the impossibility of reducing expenses at court during the emperor’s absence.23 Proximity to Pedro II had up to this point shielded Paulo Barbosa from his many enemies, inhibiting them from any radical action. With the emperor’s absence this emotional barrier disappeared. Late in November , information about a plot to assassinate the mordomo while traveling outside the capital was communicated to the authorities and to the newspapers. The public limelight now focused on Paulo Barbosa da Silva, his every movement was reported, and his courage and his conduct disputed. Guarded by the military police, he and his spouse became virtual prisoners in their own house.24 Perceiving that his existing role in court and political affairs were at risk and that intransigence was likely to bring disaster, the mordomo decided on strategic withdrawal as the wisest course. In a long letter to the emperor, he recounted the threats against him, explained their effect on himself and his wife, suggested the advisability of his absenting himself for a time from Brazil, and requested that he be named to the vacant post of envoy to St. Petersburg. “This appointment once made, the hatreds against the steward will cease.” Anxious to prevent his permanent exclusion from court, Paulo Barbosa also requested that the emperor maintain him as mordomo, naming only an interim replacement, “in order to avoid any apparent yielding of ground to terrorism.”25 The emperor sent no personal reply but, through the minister of the empire, who was accompanying him, immediately granted Barbosa da Silva’s request both for a leave of absence and for appointment as Brazil’s minister in Russia. This nomination, made public on December , , was seen at the time as marking the close of an era in both political affairs and the emperor’s life.26 While the mordomo did not sail for Europe until the middle of , he had already lost his hold over the emperor and with the politicians. Pedro II, on his return to Rio, treated Barbosa da Silva with great consideration but deliberately did not choose anyone he recommended to serve as interim mordomo during his absence.27 Paulo Barbosa da Silva’s departure for Europe, where he remained for eight years, did not immediately end the political influence, hitherto so significant, of the court circle. Paulo Barbosa’s ally and friend Aureliano de Sousa e Oliveira Coutinho had, since April , , occupied the presidency of Rio de Janeiro province, which the boom in coffee-growing had made the most important part of the Empire.28 During his long term of office, he managed to turn the province into his personal political fiefdom, in large part because successive cabinets, unwilling to risk the emperor’s displeasure, did not dare to challenge Aureliano’s autonomy. The mordomo’s departure from Brazil, by depriving Aureliano Coutinho of his principal advocate with Pedro II, seriously weakened his position. Increasingly, Aureliano Coutinho found himself unable to count on the emperor’s unquestioning support. In April , after a confrontation with a newly appointed cabinet, Aureliano was forced to resign as president of Rio de

  

 , ‒ Janeiro province.29 Although he continued to attend the Senate, Aureliano ceased from the moment of his resignation to enjoy any influence in politics, the result of an implicit, if unspoken, ban imposed by Pedro II. The withdrawal of Paulo Barbosa to Europe and the ouster of Aureliano Coutinho from the presidency of Rio province immensely strengthened the emperor’s position in the governing of Brazil. Pedro II had demonstrated that he was beholden to no one, and that his impartiality and independence could be counted on. The change had occurred without open confrontation or disruption of public affairs, as though in the natural course of events. Indeed, it is difficult to say if the outcome was the consequence of the emperor’s long-term planning or whether he had made skillful use of the opportunities given him. Most remarkable of all was that Pedro II maintained good personal relations with the two men. He permitted Barbosa da Silva to return to Rio at the end of  and to resume his post as mordomo. The effective barring of Aureliano from any active role in politics did not signify a withdrawal of the emperor’s goodwill. As a court chamberlain, Aureliano, in the period from July , , to June , , served three turns of weekly duty on the emperor. “When I come into waiting [da semana], I discuss literature, geography, magnetism, etc.,” he wrote to Barbosa da Silva, “and I let God govern his world as he judges best.”30 The comment attests both to the self-confidence that Pedro II had developed in the course of ten years and to his ability to compartmentalize his life, confining the individuals he knew to specific roles in his existence. The emperor’s maintenance of friendly relationships with Aureliano Coutinho and Barbosa da Silva sprang in part from his innate caution and his dislike of change. The acquaintance with the two stretched back to his boyhood. Such links he rarely discarded. Just as importantly, the two men had been the prime movers in a venture—the founding of the town of Petrópolis—which gave concrete expression and physical location to the emperor’s intellectual goals and to his ideals for Brazil. Pedro II had in his boyhood acquired, thanks to his teacher of French and art, Félix Emílio Taunay, a belief in “the Beautiful, a glorification of human intelligence by the arts, the sciences, and the great virtues.”31 Pedro II followed Taunay in equating “the Beautiful” with Europe in general, and France in particular. The emperor’s native land, and above all the capital city of Rio de Janeiro, conspicuously lacked the attributes of Europe and so of the Beautiful. From  onward Paulo Barbosa da Silva, ably assisted by Aureliano Coutinho as president of Rio de Janeiro province, worked strenuously to remedy this lack by founding a town in the mountains to the north of Rio de Janeiro city. The site’s temperate climate and its peopling by German immigrants made plausible this small piece of Europe re-created in Brazil.32 Pedro II was associated with the venture from its inception. The new town

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 , ‒

Figure . The imperial palace at Petrópolis

was sited on the Fazenda of Côrrego Seco, the estate purchased by his father in . Pledged to creditors, the property had been redeemed with funds voted by the legislature. The plan for the settlement, drawn up in , reserved space for a palace. In May  the emperor visited and personally selected the site for his future residence. Two months later, the first settlers, mainly Rhineland Germans, arrived. The cost of bringing the migrants from Europe was borne by the province of Rio de Janeiro. The several mountain valleys that the settlers occupied were given familiar names: Coblenz, Bingen, and Nassau. By October  the colony was functioning. “I already have  families in place,” Paulo Barbosa wrote on November  to Pedro II, then in Rio Grande do Sul: “What was virgin forest four months ago is today a settlement that is white, industrious, contented, and well disposed to Y. I. M.”33 The new settlement’s identification with the emperor extended even to its name. “Remembering [St.] Petersburg, the city of Peter, I turned to the Greek and I found a city of this name [Petrópolis] in the Archipelago, and the emperor being Pedro [Peter] I judged that this name would suit it well,” Paulo Barbosa later recalled.34 The name chosen—Petrópolis—thus asserted the town’s identification with European civilization. Barbosa da Silva, as he told Pedro II in November , longed for the emperor “to see this my beloved Petrópolis, which will be a monument of eternal glory to Your Reign.” The prophecy proved true. The emperor made Petrópolis a fixture in his life. From  onward, he and his family each year spent the months of the southern summer,

  

 , ‒ December to April, in the town. In March , not long before his death, he begged a correspondent to “tell me about Petrópolis.”35 Today a major city, Petrópolis remains the spot in Brazil most identified with Pedro II. His palace has become the Imperial Museum, both his personal and official papers are housed in the city, his statue stands in the central square, and his body lies in the cathedral. The creation of Petrópolis, a process initiated by the mordomo, advanced by Aureliano Coutinho, and consummated by Pedro II, was a concrete demonstration of the monarch’s identification with the civilized and the modern. Even though Brazil itself might not be “white, industrious, contented” (to use Paulo Barbosa da Silva’s phrase), the emperor was by the late s perceived as embodying these qualities. Pedro II had always demonstrated a willingness to learn. From a young age reading allowed him to withdraw from the unpleasantness of daily life. Books and reviews provided unbroken access to the culture of Europe. Learning also banished the unknown and gave him a sense of security. By the start of the s, the emperor was embarked on what became a lifelong quest to acquire printed materials, mainly from France, as the mordomo was repeatedly reminded: Sr. Paulo, A Frenchman has paid me a visit saying that because the ship had to stop over in Pernambuco my books have been delayed but that they are already in the Customs house and since it is open today find out if they are really there. If they are see whether you can get them out. D. Pedro ˚ Senhor. Paulo, Arrange to tell [François] Picot tomorrow to have sent to me from France the entire collection of the Moniteur which already exists and to go on supplying me with those which arrive, sending me at once those which have just come by the packet boat. D. Pedro ˚ 36

In December , when the emperor was just eighteen, the intensity of his thirst for knowledge had caused a national politician to comment in his diary: The love of books is the only passion he knows, and people are much afraid that it will reach an extreme harmful both to good sense and to the conduct of affairs. In his daily reading of the Jornal do Comércio he talks about the section on the affairs of other States, but he never says a single thing about the affairs of Brazil.37

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 , ‒ This criticism, although understandable, overstated the case. Pedro II always read with a certain intelligence and his capacious memory allowed him to retain and to recall what he had read. In the early s he built up a formidable fund of information about the world outside of Brazil which long set him apart from his compatriots. Pedro II’s intellectual interests were not, it should be stressed, limited to the printed word. His art teacher, Felix Taunay, director of the national Fine Arts Academy, instilled in him an enduring appreciation for painting and sculpture. Under Taunay’s guidance, the emperor paid in December  his first visit to the Academia das Belas Artes. A painting and sculpture exhibition first held in  and continued annually until  was invariably honored with a visit from Pedro II, whose purchases laid the foundation for his considerable art collection.38 Senhor Paulo, Desiring that the Fine Arts should flourish in My Empire, I order you to consult with Taunay about the purchase of the following paintings shown in the exhibition: the head of Walter Scott’s soldier of fortune painted by [Luís Augusto] Moreau Júnior, a very well finished drawing the Architecture teacher, depicting the interior of a most sumptuous building, and the picture of peasants [caboclos] painted by [Claude Joseph] Barandier. D. Pedro ˚ 39

The emperor took keen pleasure in the theater. In  he gave enthusiastic support to a struggling French dramatic company, going so far as to indicate plays (one by Racine and two by Casimir de Lavigne) that he thought suitable for performance before an emperor.40 His marriage to D. Teresa Cristina awoke an appreciation for music. Pedro II continued for the rest of his life to be a devotee of grand and light opera and what is now termed classical music. Just as the emperor’s enthusiasm for the fine and performing arts was not restricted to the printed page, so his interest in every branch of the sciences went beyond the abstract and passive. As early as , a “chemistry and physics laboratory” had been set up at São Cristóvão. A pioneer in amateur photography, Pedro II used his laboratory to produce the treated copper plates for daguerreotypes and later to develop the calotype photographs that he had taken. Late in  an astronomical observatory was installed in one of the towers of São Cristóvão.41 Senhor Paulo, Consult with Soulié de Sauve about the purchase of the [astronomical] equipment he needs. Find me some man who knows how to look after the

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 , ‒

Figure . São Cristóvão palace in the mid-nineteenth century

chemistry and physics laboratory, without whom the equipment will be entirely ruined. D. Pedro ˚ 42

The emperor remained throughout his life fascinated by astronomy. He even wrote a small textbook for his children on the subject, and he recalled with pride in , four months before his death: “I did a perfect job in respect to its accuracy and to its contents in the era that I wrote it.”43 Pedro II reached adulthood in an era when the polymath and the amateur, self-instructed savant flourished. Expertise in a number of fields was both feasible and widespread. The width and diversity of the emperor’s literary, artistic, and scientific interests aroused general admiration, since the monarchs of Europe were noted more for their interest in warfare, hunting, and philandering than in the pursuit of knowledge. By the late s Pedro II had found his mission in life. The knowledge he had gained and continued to acquire he would apply to the benefit and progress of his country. He would become the agent for the spread of “civilization” (European culture) in Brazil. He would be its model citizen. For Pedro II to play such a role was perfectly compatible with his also being emperor. The Brazilians looked to their monarch for leadership. They expected him to be an exemplar. The country’s politicians, often educated in Europe, continued to look there for inspiration and guidance.44 They could not but welcome Pedro II’s activities. The emperor was by his very position uniquely able to carry out his self-appointed task. His ample income allowed him to purchase what

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 , ‒ reading matter he desired from Europe. The Brazilian diplomats acted as his agents in sending back the materials acquired.45 His growing reputation as a lover of knowledge and as a sagacious and enlightened ruler made intellectuals of the caliber of the Italian poet and novelist Alessandro Manzoni and the German traveler and naturalist Alexander von Humboldt willing to correspond with him.46 Such exchanges were mutually advantageous. The men of letters gained social standing through correspondence with an emperor, while Pedro II’s credibility as a savant was enhanced. As a consequence of these advantages Pedro II came increasingly to epitomize the nation both at home and abroad. He gave assurance that Brazil would eventually become what he, its model citizen, embodied. As the orator of the Instituto Histórico remarked in , Pedro II was at the forefront of “the civilizing elements which are spreading and increasing in order to form in this new land an era in accord with the great century in which we live; that country where the sovereign welcomes intelligence and virtue cannot be called uncultured.”47 Pedro II was effective in his chosen role because he believed totally in what he was striving to achieve. Taking for granted the necessity of inculcating “civilization” in Brazil, he was content to seek his ends slowly and by indirection. He worked through the status quo, persuading by example and by encouragement. Those who collaborated with him found their careers prospering. On the other hand, he never ostracized those who did not cooperate. He simply persevered, trusting that he would eventually bring them around to his point of view. It was this implacable resolution, this calm tenacity, this constant willingness to forgive and forget, this all-encompassing kindliness that made Pedro II so credible as Brazil’s model citizen. These very qualities also explain why it is all too easy to underestimate his achievements. Working as he did over the long term, Pedro II looked to the rising generation as essential to achieving his goals. “Education being the most solid basis of the civilization of a country,” as he wrote in July , he sought to strengthen and to influence the institutions which trained the young.48 In the late s he began the practice of attending both the ceremonies marking the start and end of term and the oral examinations at the medical school, the Military School (which subsequently became the Central and then the Polytechnic School), and the Colégio D. Pedro II, all in Rio city. By his presence, the emperor established an identification of education with citizenship, and he also provided for the young men he met a living model of what they should and could become. Pedro II did not restrict his support for education to visits. In addition he provided some financial support to enable talented young men to study in Europe, not just in the universities but also in the art schools and conservatories of music.

  

 , ‒ The emperor thus strengthened the equation of culture in Brazil with the civilization of Europe.49 The final element in the transformation of Pedro II between  and  involved his learning the arts of political management. As the popular support in  for a premature majority demonstrated, the vast majority of Brazilians expected and desired the monarch to be the arbiter of the political process. The departure from Brazil of Paulo Barbosa da Silva in  followed by Aureliano Coutinho’s ouster as president of Rio province in  had signaled the end of the court as a major forum for political intrigues. The disappearance of favorites and his patent impartiality and independence greatly enhanced Pedro II’s position. That position was further strengthened by the evolving structure of politics. Prior to the emperor’s majority in , there had existed no political parties worthy of that name, the parties being instead a series of factions, based on regions and clustering around specific leaders. Pedro II’s early majority had been achieved by just such a loose alliance of regional and personalistic factions. The success of that campaign served as the catalyst for an increasing polarization in politics and for systematic electoral organization. Out of the elections held in late  had emerged the “party of order” which would become the Conservative party, while the elections late in  saw the creation of the opposing Liberal party. These two parties never became monolithic organizations, and each possessed, the Liberals in particular, internal factions which struggled for dominance. However, from  onward the political scene displayed a symmetry which it had not previously possessed. Between the two parties lay a deep divide, and this rivalry simplified the emperor’s task as ruler.50 Typically, Pedro II would call on an acknowledged leader of one party to form a cabinet. The other party would go into opposition, which imposed a certain discipline on the party taking office. When a cabinet wished to resign or showed signs of collapsing, the emperor could either construct a new ministry from elements in the party in power or call on the party in opposition to take office. This system, basically a rotation of the two parties in power, called for very deft and unobtrusive management by the emperor. In his handling of the two parties, he needed to maintain a reputation for impartiality, work in accord with the popular mood, and avoid any flagrant imposition of his will on the political scene. The second half of the s saw Pedro II develop his ability to manage the political system in this manner. Of particular importance was the creation by a decree of July , , of the post of president of the Council of Ministers.51 In itself, the position marked no new departure. Since January , when the emperor had entrusted Carneiro Leão with forming a cabinet representing “the

  

 , ‒ party of order,” most cabinets had an acknowledged if unofficial leader. The significance of the new post lay in the fact that it constituted recognition by the emperor of both the autonomy of the legislature and the legitimacy of the party system. Henceforth the head of any cabinet needed to be a recognized leader of his party who could command support in both houses. The powers of the president of the council were never officially defined, but he had the task of selecting his colleagues, announcing the cabinet’s program to the legislature, and maintaining solidarity among his fellow ministers. In undertaking all these activities, it was essential that he maintain the emperor’s approval and support. Just how powerful the office would become depended on the personal capacities of the presidents of the council, on their skill in handling the emperor, and on their ability to marshal support from the elected politicians.52 The emperor’s growing poise and self-confidence was demonstrated by his willingness early in  and again early in  to leave the capital and undertake extensive tours of Rio de Janeiro province. On neither trip was he accompanied by the empress, who was on both occasions some months pregnant. In the months of March and April , during the first visit, he toured the sugar-growing region around Campos in the east of the province. In addition to inspecting absolutely everything of interest—government offices, schools, churches, plantations, canals, and natural sites—Pedro II showed a new and unexpected capacity for pleasure. At Campos, on April , he danced at a ball until three in the morning, even though he had to get up at six. He did, however, keep D. Teresa Cristina, dutifully looking after the children at Petrópolis, fully informed of his activities in a constant stream of letters.53 If he feasted his eyes on the attractive women he met, he made no mention of the fact, but the emperor was adept at separating the different facets of his life. Early in  Pedro II, accompanied by his customary four courtiers-in-waiting, visited the coffee zone in the center of Rio province, moving from plantation to plantation and enjoying the hospitality offered. During the visit he again wrote frequently to his spouse, who remained at Petrópolis with the children. The letter he sent her on February , while staying at the fazenda of the viscount of Baependí, a court chamberlain, reveals as much about his character as it does about the incident he describes: I have been excellently received everywhere and this trip through these important districts has greatly interested me. In fact this journey would be perfect in every respect had there not occurred certain events which have upset me considerably. I have not told you about them, because I dislike speaking ill (if telling the truth can be so termed) about anyone, and even more about someone whom I still esteem for some good qualities which I acknowledge in him. However, the nearness of my return to Petrópolis and

  

 , ‒ the need to prevent disagreeable events in the future oblige me to break a silence which, if I kept it any longer, would go against my conscience. D. José [de Assis Mascarenhas, the chamberlain-in-waiting], even though he several times promised to be sensible during this journey, has exceeded himself in foolishness, compromising by his indiscretions and loquacity even the people he is most devoted to and alienating everyone by his rank manners. All this has kept me in a constant unease, not knowing what he will say or do. . . . 54

This exceptionally frank letter demonstrates how total was Pedro II’s self-control and his restraint. He was invariably courteous, kind, and patient. He kept his emotions under iron discipline. He was never rude and never lost his temper. He was exceptionally discreet in words and cautious in action. Equally notable was his loyalty to the status quo, both in respect to people and to institutions. The offender, D. José de Assis, whom Pedro II had known since childhood, suffered no public disgrace because of his conduct. He remained in his post of chamberlain [gentilhomen da imperial câmara], but the emperor henceforth quietly excluded him from his circle of trusted courtiers.55 By the middle of , then aged twenty-three and a half, the emperor had fully developed the qualities that would henceforth characterize him. His capacity for rule was put fully to the test by three formidable crises that erupted between  to —a confrontation with Great Britain over the continuing illegal trade in slaves from Africa, a major internal revolt in the northeast, and a war in the Rio de la Plata. The regime’s triumphant emergence from the three crises, with its prestige affirmed, its powers increased, and its legitimacy unquestioned, was principally due to the ability of the Conservative cabinet which Pedro II appointed on September , . A considerable portion of the credit must also be assigned to the emperor, whose cool head, tenacity of purpose, and sense of what was feasible proved indispensable. The first crisis to erupt concerned the continuing importation of slaves from Africa, a trade which had been made illegal by the treaty with Great Britain in November . The treaty declared the slave trade to be piracy and for a term of twenty years gave British warships the right to search vessels flying the Brazilian flag for contraband slaves. Despite the enactment in  of a law imposing penalties for participation in the trade, the commerce had continued unchecked, in fact with the protection and participation of officialdom. A strong alliance of planters, merchants, and politicians (of whom Bernardo Pereira de Vasconcelos was the most vocal) backed the trade. Close to , slaves were illegally imported between  and the end of the s.56 Early in  the provisions of the  treaty expired, depriving the British of any right of search. The power-

  

 , ‒ ful antislavery movement in Great Britain, appalled by the growing number of slaves imported into Brazil and Cuba, demanded immediate and radical action against Brazil. In response the British government passed in August  the socalled Aberdeen Act which, unilaterally, gave its warships the right to search and seize Brazilian vessels involved in the trade and its admiralty courts the right to condemn them as involved in piracy. Despite the insistent protests of the Brazilian government, the British antislavery squadron proceeded to employ its powers on the high seas. The inability of Brazil to prevent the British action was symptomatic of an ineffectiveness of government not just in external but also in internal affairs. Between February  and May  four cabinets drawn from the Liberal party had followed each other in office. All were racked by factionalism and all proved barren of achievement, incapable of introducing into Brazil the new technologies, such as railroads and electric telegraph, and the new institutions, such as a network of primary schools, which were then transforming Europe and North America. In April  news arrived of the overthrow of the Orléans monarchy in France and the proclamation of a republic. The continent of Europe was engulfed in nationalist, egalitarian revolutions. These circumstances caused Pedro II at the end of May to name as president of the Council of Ministers Francisco de Paula Sousa e Melo, the most senior and most prestigious of the Liberal party leaders. The emperor in effect gave the Liberals one final opportunity to enact the reforms they advocated and to bring the benefits of “progress” to Brazil. As a retrospective comment makes clear, Pedro II kept a tight oversight of the Paula Sousa cabinet and its actions: “Some ministers, I know, complained of a want of confidence on my part, since I opposed some measures proposed by the ministry; but why did they not insist? If I had had no confidence in the ministry and concluded that it could not continue, I would have informed it of this fact.”57 The Paula Sousa cabinet decided to give high priority to ending the confrontation with Great Britain by suppressing the illicit slave trade. To this end the ministry first took up a bill, which had passed the Senate in , giving the government new and effective powers. However, an article in the bill repealed the  law declaring the slave trade illegal. This proposal, which in effect gave retrospective sanction to the enslavement of those illegally imported into Brazil since , caused fierce controversy. The atmosphere of confrontation was intensified by the upsurge in popular radicalism, inspired by the  revolutions in Europe, which took the form of widespread riots against the large Portuguese immigrant community. The failure of the Paula Sousa ministry to maintain public order in Rio de Janeiro decisively undermined the cabinet’s prestige. The Chamber of Deputies voted on September , , to delay until the next ses-

  

 , ‒ sion discussion of the government’s bill for the suppression of the slave trade. The Paula Sousa cabinet thereupon resigned.58 The emperor turned to the Conservative party, out of office since , which formed a strong cabinet composed of extremely able men. The Liberals’ loss of power outraged the radical wing of that party. At the provincial level the Liberal factions, which had enjoyed virtual autonomy in running local affairs since the party came to office in , now found themselves at the mercy of their opponents. On November , , the Praieira faction of Pernambuco province took up arms against the central government, calling for the election of a constituent assembly to introduce federalism. The Praieira revolt enjoyed some early success, but neither the cabinet nor the emperor was disheartened. The rebels attacked Recife, the capital of Pernambuco, on February , , but were decisively defeated. By March the uprising was largely suppressed.59 The Liberals’ refusal to accept their loss of power, their willingness to use force to regain it, and the gravity of the ensuing crisis decisively alienated public opinion from political radicalism. Republicanism and federalism were both equated with anarchy. Monarchy was accepted as essential to the maintenance of law and order in Brazil. This consolidation of the regime and its unquestioned legitimacy allowed the Conservative cabinet to concentrate on resolving the two external crises which suddenly became acute at the start of .60 Under the Aberdeen Act, passed in August , the British navy had at first restricted its action to seizing slaving vessels encountered on the high seas. These captures did little to disrupt the illicit trade. In June  the British government authorized the navy to send its steamers into Brazil’s coastal waters and even into its harbors to inspect and seize slaving ships. Insult was added to injury when the British envoy lodged protests against the shots fired by forts defending the harbors on British steamships which had entered to seize and destroy suspected slavers.61 The emergency was so great and the threat to Brazilian sovereignty so strong that the Conservatives, despite their long-standing links to the mercantile interests running the illegal trade, decided that it must be suppressed forthwith and by Brazil’s own efforts. The death in May of Bernardo Pereira de Vasconcelos, the trade’s most formidable defender, facilitated this reversal in belief. A bill giving the government sweeping powers, without repealing the  law forbidding the importation of slaves, was hastily pushed through the newly elected legislature and promulgated on September , . The government used its new powers so effectively that by the start of  even the British had to admit that the slave trade was utterly destroyed.62 In the successful resolution of this crisis, Pedro II played a central role. He encouraged the Conservative cabinet to commit itself to immediate suppression. He resisted all pressures on him to dismiss it from office. In July  he let

  

 , ‒ his support for the government’s bill be publicly known, by informing D. José de Assis Mascarenhas, his indiscreet chamberlain, of his views.63 Most important of all, he gave indispensable support to the actual suppression of the illegal trade. No one who was involved directly or by inaction in the importation of slaves could henceforth hope for any government honor or official position. More than ten years later, in , he was still enforcing this policy of exclusion.64 The emperor played an equally important role in the third crisis, which involved a struggle between Brazil and the Argentine Confederation (formerly the United Provinces of the Rio de la Plata) for supremacy in the region of the Rio de la Plata. The focal point was the republic of Uruguay, created in  out of disputed territory lying between the two countries. Uruguay’s government lacked all authority, and civil strife was endemic. Politics were polarized between the Blancos and the Colorados, political parties originating in preindependence factions respectively favoring Argentine and Brazilian rule. Deliberate manipulation of Uruguayan politics for external advantage began in the year , when Juan Manuel de Rosas became president of the Argentine Confederation and the Farrapos rebellion, a popular uprising against rule by Rio de Janeiro, erupted in the province of Rio Grande do Sul, abutting on Uruguay. In  the Colorados revolted against the Blanco-controlled government, which they overthrew two years later. The Blancos turned to President Rosas for support, which he willingly supplied. In  the new Colorado-controlled government declared war on Argentina, starting a twelve-year conflict. Rosas not only enabled the Blancos to dominate the Uruguayan countryside but also encouraged them to give aid and asylum to the Farrapos rebels, across the frontier in Rio Grande do Sul. By these policies Rosas outmaneuvered Brazil and dominated the affairs of the Rio de la Plata. The best response that Brazil could muster was to aid the Colorados in maintaining control of Montevideo, the capital and principal port of Uruguay. The imperial government also sought to reduce Rosas’s influence by ending the revolt in Rio Grande do Sul province. This goal it did not achieve until , as much through concessions to the Farrapos rebels as through military victory. When the new Conservative cabinet took office in September , , its members were divided as to what policy Brazil should pursue in the Rio de la Plata region, whether the imperial government should seek a settlement with Juan Manuel Rosas or whether it should try to challenge his power. The president of the council, the former regent Pedro de Araújo Lima, viscount of Olinda since July , favored conciliation. It was the emperor who forced Olinda’s resignation from the cabinet in October  and his replacement by an advocate of challenging Rosas’s supremacy. The new minister of foreign affairs worked to forge an alliance against Rosas between Brazil, the Colorados of Uruguay, and the caudillo [political boss] who controlled Entre Rios province in Argentina. Rosas sought to counteract this policy by using his envoy in Rio to undermine

  

 , ‒ the cabinet’s position. As tensions mounted in , Pedro II became a key player in the dispute. Late in that year, he personally conducted the negotiations with the Argentine envoy in Rio, maneuvering so that Rosas would break off relations with Brazil. The emperor’s resolution and unflinching support gave the cabinet the confidence to embark in  on open hostilities against the Argentine Confederation. In the ensuing war Brazil gave critical naval and military support to Rosas’s Argentine and Uruguayan opponents, a struggle which culminated in his overthrow at the battle of Montecaseros in February .65 Contemporary opinion, both Brazilian and foreign, concurred in ascribing to Pedro II a principal part in securing a successful outcome to each of the three crises affecting Brazil. In  a cabinet minister declared: The emperor constitutes one of the principal assets of our country. His morality, his superior learning, his upright judgment and his excellent intentions, united to his prestige and his office, can yet deliver us from many evils, without him inevitable and with him probable! While I used to like him from self-interest, seeing in him the hope for our salvation, today I am forced to like him from affection and gratitude, as one loves virtue and a benefactor.66

Granted an element of hyperbole, the writer’s appreciation of Pedro II was echoed by the foreign press. The Illustrated London News in its issue of October , , published a laudatory profile which read in part: To form a correct judgment of the young Emperor, to appreciate his good sense, prudence, sagacity and firmness, one must study the history of Brazil for the last ten years. No one, even of his most eminent counselors, is more thoroughly informed on all the secrets of policy in international questions, as well as in questions of party created by the constitutional mechanism. . . . Kings seldom write for the public; and it is difficult to form an opinion of them by their literary production; however, Brazilians of every rank speak of their Sovereign with the enthusiasm of legitimate pride.67

If the emperor’s public life by the end of the s was marked by success and achievement, his private affairs were going awry. Pedro II’s marriage to D. Teresa Cristina had not begun well. Growing maturity on his part, her unswerving patience and devotion, and the birth of a son had eventually brought conjugal happiness and compatibility. The couple found common interests, such as the opera, and the emperor developed a taste for dancing, participating for the first time in the balls held at court.68 Above all, they shared an interest in their children. Pedro II was never an indulgent parent nor very demonstrative in his affections, but his love and concern for his offspring were deep and enduring. Even in his old age these feelings continued strong, as a female correspondent reminded him in a letter written in 8: “I recall so clearly the expression and

  

 , ‒

Figure . D. Teresa Cristina in court dress, probably at about the age of thirty

the tone of voice with which you said to me at Naples: ‘Me! I adore my daughter!’”69 The death of D. Afonso from convulsions at the age of two and a half in June  caused him “the keenest grief,” as he wrote his stepmother D. Amélia.70 The regular spacing of the empress’s pregnancies pointed to an active sexual life. D. Teresa Cristina conceived her second, third, and fourth children in November , , and , giving birth each July following. The pattern then changed. D. Teresa Cristina did not become pregnant in November , nor did she do so during . Given the birth of four offspring in as many years, a pause was explicable. However, the death from convulsions in January  of the couple’s only surviving son, D. Pedro, fundamentally changed the situation. Two daughters were all that were left. Whatever the  constitution might allow, the assumptions of the time made a male heir to the throne a virtual necessity. Further pregnancies until a son was born were an obligation on the empress’s part. By character and upbringing D. Teresa Cristina never flinched from the path of duty. In  she was only twenty-eight years of age, and her general health was good. She was, however, never again to bear a child. This evidence suggests that sexual intercourse between the spouses may have ceased at some point of time after July , never to be resumed. The immediate cause for this breach—gynecological problems, the desire to avoid another pregnancy, loss of physical attraction—is not evident. What is clear is

  

 , ‒ that the break was part of a larger crisis within the marriage. The emperor was a man of great physical energy, and the appearance of four children in quick succession attests to his sexual drive. Nothing suggests that Pedro II’s eye wandered during the first four years of the marriage. His letters to D. Teresa Cristina reveal a husband who was quite content with the relationship, being both conscientious and considerate toward his wife and children. On the other hand, the letters do not suggest a relationship driven by urgent need or strong passion. It is probable that, as Pedro II reached his early twenties and so became fully mature, he ceased to find either intellectual or physical fulfillment from his wife alone, no matter how loving and attentive she was. Other women increasingly attracted his attention, especially those possessing good looks, an intelligent and cultivated mind, and vivacity in speech and manner—qualities that the empress did not possess. During the emperor’s two extended visits to the interior of Rio de Janeiro province, in early  and again in early , D. Teresa Cristina did not accompany him, so that he had ample opportunity for diverting contacts with women of his own choosing. His letters indicate how much he enjoyed the experience of personal freedom.71 When the emperor returned to Petrópolis in March , his wife was several months pregnant with her fourth child. The circumstances were propitious. Pedro II’s eye roamed. He embarked on a flirtation which was, as an Irish politician of the time phrased it, “carried to its practical results.”72 “In the salons, there is much talk about the intimate relations of the emperor with the widow Navarro,” so a young man about town wrote to a close friend on August , .73 The lady in question, Maria Leopoldina Navarro de Andrade, can also be linked to Pedro II by other evidence. As might be expected in the circumstances, her father’s family was prominent at court and in public life, and her mother came from a fazendeiro clan of Bahia province. Two of her paternal uncles taught medicine at the University of Coimbra; two rose to be appeal-court judges, one in Porto and the other at Rio de Janeiro, two were priests, an abbot and a canon in Portugal; and one served Pedro I as his personal physician in both Brazil and Portugal.74 Just how serious or long-lasting the affair between Pedro II and Maria Leopoldina was we do not know. Some infidelity did, beyond question, occur, and the result was very likely marital discord. By December , D. Francisca, then living in England, had learned from an informant at São Cristóvão that “things are always very stormy in the menage.”75 Certainly, the empress no longer trusted her spouse. In February  Pedro II closed two letters to her with a new phrase: “your affectionate and faithful.”76 If doubts on the subject had not existed, such an assurance would not have been needed. In July  a courtier reported the empress’s fears “that her husband may commit at Santa Cruz the same gallantries that D. Pedro I did there.”77

  

 , ‒

Figure . Pedro II at the age of twenty-four, wearing the farda imperial [court dress] of his own reign, in a painting sent by him to Francis Joseph of Austria at the end of 

No open breach occurred between the spouses. The conclusion that sexual intercourse ceased between them is no more than a speculation. All that is certain is that the empress ceased to have children after July . The consequences were profound. Pedro II was deeply affected, emotionally and intellectually, by the death of his second son, D. Pedro, on January , . “By the time you receive this, you will certainly have learnt of the grievous loss I have undergone,” he wrote to his brother-in-law, King Fernando of Portugal, three weeks after the death. “God who has made me pass through so hard a testing, will in his mercy give me grounds to console my sorrows.”78 Pedro II poured out his unhappiness in a poem that reads in part: But who can recount what feels the broken soul of the father from whom, of God, your sword cuts off the flower of his future, the beloved child.79

To Pedro II the death of both his sons and the increasing likelihood that he would not father any more children seemed to be a pronouncement of Providence. Much as he enjoyed the company of women, and dearly as he loved his two daughters, he viewed the world in male terms. The young Princess Isabel

  

 , ‒ might legally be his heir, but that counted for little. To be viable his successor had to be a man. It seemed as if the sword of God had indeed cut off “the flower of his future.” It was as though the Almighty had pronounced that the imperial regime was destined to end with him. From the s onward Pedro II concentrated, so he later reflected, “all my forces and all my devotion to assuring the progress and the prosperity of my people.”80 At the time of his majority in  the emperor had been hailed as the savior of Brazil. After some initial stumbling, he matured into a capable ruler who brought the country through three dangerous crises. By  Brazil was enjoying an era of peace, stability, and prosperity. The death of his second son and the likely end of sexual relations with his wife made Pedro II perceive his allotted mission in fresh terms. The monarchy as an abstraction, to be passed on to his heir, gave way to his perception of the imperial regime as an emanation of himself and himself alone. He increasingly viewed himself as no more than head of state of his country for life, or rather as the citizen par excellence of Brazil. During his remaining years, or until fate decreed otherwise, he would act as the guardian of the constitution and would guide the destinies of Brazil solely in accord with what he deemed to be its best interests. By , for good or ill, the pattern for the rest of his life and for Brazil as a nation-state was set.

  

 

The Daily Round, 1853–64

 By the early s Pedro II had achieved physical and intellectual maturity. No significant changes in conduct or belief occurred thereafter. He was regular in his ways but not yet fixed in them. He was still able to respond to new ideas and interests, to take advantage of fresh opportunities, and to meet new challenges. His appetite for knowledge was prodigious and his desire for new sights and experiences unbounded. Nonetheless, the passage of the years did exact its cost. By the late s a certain predictability of thought and behavior was becoming evident. The even tenor that characterized his existence during a decade and more, until , encouraged a settled outlook and way of life. Each year took a very similar course, shaped by a fixed round of festivals and duties, starting with the emperor’s birthday on December . “O faustíssimo dia natálico” [the most auspicious day of birth], in the phraseology of the time, was celebrated with considerable pomp. At noon the emperor attended a service in the imperial chapel and then held a formal court in the city palace with the beijamão ceremony. A military parade followed. The day’s newspapers were filled with deferential articles and laudatory poems. Even Brazilian diplomats took care to celebrate the day. In  the envoy in Washington D.C. wrote home:

B

Any Brazilian devoted to his country and grateful for the immense benefits that it constantly receives from a wise and liberal monarch, who knows how to make it follow the road of progress internally and who worthily upholds its dignity abroad, cannot let pass unacknowledged the day of December .1

About the middle of December, with these festivities over, the emperor and his family left São Cristóvão for their new palace at Petrópolis in the mountains

  

  , ‒ behind the national capital. The imperial family thus escaped not only the humid heat of summer that in the southern hemisphere begins in December but also yellow fever, a disease which had invaded coastal Brazil in  and took a heavy toll during the summer months. The imperial palace, which reached its final form in the late s, stood in the middle of Petrópolis. Surrounded by a formal park, it possessed a certain heavy charm. Judged by European standards, it was an extremely modest building, in no way worthy of an emperor. Prince Alexander of Württemberg, who saw it in , deemed it “a sorry edifice, which would perhaps satisfy the demands of a prosperous trader but which does not correspond to the requirements of a great monarch.”2 However, its simplicity and its convenience suited the emperor, and the building, which survives virtually unchanged, admirably reflected his personality. Pedro II and his family customarily stayed at the summer palace until late in April. The emperor’s residence there did not, however, mean absence from Rio de Janeiro. Every Saturday he traveled down by coach and barge to São Cristóvão, where he would hold in the morning a business meeting (the despacho) with the ministers and in the late afternoon an audience, open to anyone who chose to appear. He also went down to Rio for days on which a formal court was to be held or a major religious festival celebrated. D. Teresa Cristina usually accompanied him on these occasions. The completion at the end of  of Brazil’s first railroad, a short line running from the top of Rio’s Guanabara Bay to the foot of the coastal mountains, made travel between the capital and Petrópolis much easier. The construction of an electric telegraph line between Rio de Janeiro and Petrópolis in  permitted the government immediate communication with the emperor.3 During the summer months five formal courts were held. These dias de grande gala were compliments of the New Year on January , the anniversary of the Fico (Pedro I’s decision to stay in Brazil) on January , the empress’s birthday on March , the anniversary of the proclamation of the constitution on March , and the anniversary of Pedro II’s accession on April .4 The religious services the emperor attended during the summer were New Year’s Eve, Twelfth Night [Reis Magos, or Dia dos Reis], Candlemas, Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday.5 In the ceremonies held on Maundy Thursday in particular, Pedro II played a prominent part. Following a service in the Imperial Chapel he washed the feet of twelve poor blind men and then gave them a meal and a gift. “That same evening, Their Majesties visited on foot seven churches, the emperor in full uniform, the empress in black with diamonds; the court followed,” the French envoy informed his wife. “The guards in green and gold, with their gendarme hats, and halberds [poleaxes] in their

  

  , ‒ hands, cigarettes behind their ears, surrounded their sovereigns.”6 A plantation owner from São Paulo province, visiting Rio de Janeiro in April , was less cynical about the ceremonies of Holy Week. “The richness, good taste, and the attendance are such that a mere provincial cannot give an idea of them.”7 The emperor and his family returned to Rio de Janeiro shortly before the annual legislative session began early in May. The onset of fall brought an end to the ravages of yellow fever, and the pace of life in Rio accelerated. The opening of the General Assembly, comprising the Senate and the Chamber of Deputies, was conducted with considerable pomp.8 The emperor drove in state to the Senate building. Wearing his state robes with crown and scepter, Pedro II delivered the Speech from the Throne (Fala do Trono), which reported on the state of the country and set out the government’s legislative program for the coming session. The ensuing winter months, which lasted until the emperor’s birthday came round again on December , were taken up by a heavy round of duties. Six formal courts were held, these dias de grande gala being the anniversary of the emperor’s accession on July , the birthday of his heir, D. Isabel, on July , the imperial marriage anniversary on September , the anniversary of Brazilian independence on September , and the empress’s and emperor’s name days (the feasts of St. Peter and St. Theresa) on October  and , respectively.9 The business meetings [despachos] with the ministers and the public audiences, each held twice a week, were busier and more demanding than during the summer. The emperor attended all public examinations and graduation ceremonies for the faculty of medicine, the military school, and the Colégio D. Pedro II. He ceaselessly made visits of inspection of government offices, attended public examinations, and inspected educational institutions of all types. During the winter months, the emperor participated in the meetings, held every other Friday, of the Instituto Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro, of which he was patron. The imperial couple’s attendance at the theater, and above all at the opera, was quite assiduous. At the start of September the legislative session closed, although the need to finish urgent business could keep it open for a further two or three weeks. Graduation ceremonies at the various Rio educational institutions were held in the emperor’s presence early in December. During his daily round the emperor customarily wore a black tail coat and trousers, black vest (white in the evening), and tie. Attached to his buttonhole was a small bar decorated with four small diamonds, from which hung the insignia of the Order of Golden Fleece, awarded him by the Spanish Crown in .10 Black clothing was both convenient and unavoidable, since he was almost perpetually in mourning for the death of one of his numerous relatives in the royal families of Europe. When the occasion required official dress, as at the

  

  , ‒ Maundy Thursday ceremonies, he usually wore uniform.11 Only twice a year, at the opening and closing of the General Assembly, did he put on the state robes—a white satin tunic and breeches with a mantle of orange toucan feathers. This costume, although it showed his tall figure and fine legs to advantage, was so contrary to his usual wear that its incongruity struck onlookers.12 The emperor’s daily routine was by any standards full and heavy. “It is almost  o’clock,” he explained to his brother-in-law in February , “and I am going to have lunch. I usually wake up at , because I often don’t get to sleep before  in the morning, and before lunch I do much good work; afterwards I talk and in Petrópolis I also play billiards until  or midday, while in São Cristóvão I withdraw shortly after lunch to my work room. I work again until ½,  or ½ when I dine, and the meal finished I talk, I read something light which demands little attention, or I play billiards, but this only here [in Petrópolis], and in the evening, if there is no theater, or a meeting with the ministers, or business to examine, I occupy the hours until sleep in what pleases me most.”13 In having lunch at 9: .. and dinner at : .., Pedro II was following the eating habits of eighteenth-century Europe, a testimony to the tenacity of court etiquette. Fashion as to mealtimes changed, but Pedro II did not adapt. In  the emperor’s new son-in-law reported, intending to surprise his family back in Europe, that dinner was at four o’clock. A decade later he commented: “At  o’clock, an unalterable hour, there was dinner; as it has always been; dinner for four, no conversation, hurried over; the classic fare of São Cristóvão: his doughy macaroni soup, his starchy rice, his dry steaks. . . . He wore his white waistcoat as well as his insignia [of the Golden Fleece] with four small diamonds. What a singular immutability of existence! I would even call it admirable if it were not so horribly boring and uncomfortable.”14 Everyone who ate at the imperial table commented on the dreadful quality of the food and the breakneck speed with which it was consumed. “The entire meal was placed on the table, and served in disorganized fashion by poorly dressed servants,” a visiting Russian admiral reported to his wife in  about a banquet at São Cristóvão. “Half of the menu did not exist, and the food was bad; ices, jelly, soup, ham served by chance, as were the wines. Fortunately it all passed quickly, since at the end of twenty minutes the meal was over.”15 Pedro II was in no way a gourmet nor was he a connoisseur of wine. He did not consume alcohol when eating outside the palace, as a visiting American discovered in . “When the wine was passed, the Emperor declined, saying it was a rule of his never to take wine, and a rule he never broke except on extraordinary occasions. ‘However,’ he added generously, ‘this is an extraordinary occasion. I will take a glass of champagne.’”16 Few if any references to food and drink can be found in Pedro II’s diaries and letters. His indifference to food and his speed of

  

  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II in , wearing the order of the Gold Fleece and the grand cross of the order of the Cruzeiro

eating did not mean that he ate little. He had a sweet tooth which the Brazilian cuisine, with its doces [sweets] such as suspiros [“sighs,” or meringues] and maesbentas [“blessed mothers,” or coconut and rice-flour cupcakes] and its fruit preserves such as goiabada [guava paste], allowed him to indulge to the full. He even liked his bread and butter sprinkled with sugar.17 Since the emperor inherited from his mother a tendency to put on weight easily, the consequences were all too visible. Meeting Pedro II in July , Queen Victoria tactfully described him as “very tall, broad and stout,” but a month earlier his own daughter had bluntly referred to “a very large belly.”18 It was not simply an unbalanced diet with too much sugar which produced Pedro II’s large stomach. “I don’t like to take walks,” he explained in  to his brother-in-law, “because it does not suit me to walk by myself ruminating. I don’t like to hunt, killing beings, whose flesh, unappetizing to me, does not even supply me with an excuse; besides which this entertainment—as some term it—

  

  , ‒ consumes much of our time. I don’t like balls, to which I go only so that they don’t comment on my absence. In fact I am very restricted in my pleasures—as they are defined in the popular mind—since for me it is impossible to enjoy a more complete life than that nourished on the sentiments of the heart and the thoughts of the spirit.”19 In January , after making a long excursion on horseback, he reported with a certain surprise that “the exercise did me a lot of good.”20 Such recreation as Pedro II did take was sedentary. He and his wife usually attended an evening gala performance of the opera on the days when a full court was held. In , for example, he saw Gaetano Donizetti’s Linda de Chamonix on July , D. Isabel’s birthday, and Guiseppe Verdi’s Nabucodonosor on December , his own birthday.21 His musical tastes were well formed. “I have the same opinion as you do about the opera Martha [by Friedrich von Flotow],” he wrote in February  to an acquaintance living in Paris, “and how I regret not hearing the music of Weber, Mozart, and Beethoven played by true artists!” Six months later he added: “Have you already heard Mozart’s Don Juan which is performed in a few theaters there? I very rarely hear good music here, which I very much regret.”22 The emperor’s life was by choice both sedentary and in its essence solitary. As a description by the French envoy to Brazil in  makes clear, Pedro II came alive within his study and his library at São Cristóvão. “My meetings take place in a little study, the emperor before his desk, loaded with books, and I beside him, seated on a chair and leaning on the table; in front of us is a kerosene lamp probably worth about  francs and which never works. His Majesty assembles and disassembles it with an admirable patience, every other minute, while continuing our conversation.” “I took a chair beside him, slightly turned away, and we started to talk of everything and the rest. He was very cheerful and very alive, very informed, having read everything, and having truly read it.”23 In September , when an emergency had taken him far away from the national capital, Pedro II remarked: “What I would give to be in my room at São Cristóvão.”24 Over the years his library expanded, as books, brochures, engravings, maps, and photographs flowed into it, until it filled three rooms that occupied most of the third floor of the front facade of São Cristóvão palace. There also was the emperor’s private study, similarly filled with books.25 By inclination and intent Pedro II emulated what the nineteenth-century world admiringly termed un homme de lettres. A man of letters was a master of high culture, often self-taught, who used his knowledge and his pen to make both his reputation and his living. The bulk of each day was devoted to affairs of state, but Pedro II spent as much time as he could snatch away from work reading books, newspapers, documents, and letters, his pencil at the ready. He filled

  

  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II’s study at São Cristóvão palace

the margins of whatever he was reading with comments and corrections, some of them profound and perceptive but just as often slight and superficial.26 He even corrected typographical errors he encountered. The emperor’s formidable memory allowed him to retain and to make use of the knowledge he picked up during his voracious reading. Pedro II was always seeking out fresh fields of knowledge. At the start of the s, he began to study Hebrew with Dr. Leonard Aklebom, a Swedish Jew resident in Petrópolis, “with the goal of acquiring a better knowledge of the history and literature of the Hebrews, principally the poetry and the Prophets, as well as the origins of Christianity.”27 Once he was able to read and to write Hebrew he went on to learn Arabic, Sanskrit, and Tupí-Guaraní. He successively employed three German-born linguists—Philip Ferdinand Koch, Karl Henning, and Christian Friedrich Seybold—to assist him in these studies.28 Pedro II’s interest in languages and their scripts sprang from his continuing fascination with both poetry (which he wrote on occasion “to entertain myself ”) and the sciences of every type.29 The emperor did not just study. He also wrote endlessly—notes and letters in the main, but also diaries, poems (of no great merit), commentaries, tran-

  

  , ‒ scriptions, and translations. A letter of  to his brother-in-law, King Fernando of Portugal, covers both sides of nine large sheets of paper with close writing. As he commented at the bottom of side nine, “Perhaps you are surprised at the diary format, but I am used to writing every day about what has happened in respect to my private life and what I regret is that I did not start doing so three years ago.”30 The number of the emperor’s correspondents grew very large, in part because most members of his family lived in Europe, as did the intellectuals with whom he hungered for contact.31 In writing, Pedro II found an acceptable substitute for conversation: “It is so agreeable to talk with a friend about questions on which our happiness can depend,” he told Fernando of Portugal in .32 The drawback for both contemporaries and posterity with this outpouring of text was the badness of Pedro II’s handwriting as well as the pedestrian quality of much of his prose. His letter to his brother-in-law opened with the promise: “I have time to write to you without hieroglyphics,” but by the fourth side the writing relapsed into his customary small and illegible scrawl. Even his family had problems with his handwriting. In November  a reception to welcome the emperor home to Petrópolis was forced to wait, because “the emperor believed that he had instructed his daughter to provide some carriages and we had not understood his hieroglyphics in that sense.”33 Fortunately for Pedro II, his status as monarch obliged most people not only to decipher his script but also to send him prompt and appreciative replies. His brother-in-law alone could and did complain about the flow of letters, and Fernando responded shortly or not at all. “I was very saddened,” Pedro II wrote in his diary on April , , to learn that “Fernando showed himself to be vexed in front of several people on receiving one of my letters, saying that I inconvenienced him by my wanting replies and long ones, which is not exact, because I only complain when I don’t hear from him for months at a time.”34 The image of Pedro II sitting alone in his study immersed in reading and writing catches the essence of the man. Throughout the length of his reign, he never depended on a personal secretary, much less used a personal secretariat. No one in his service was permitted to call himself the emperor’s “private secretary.” Karl Henning, with whom Pedro II studied Hebrew and other languages, dared to assume the title when first employed in  but was quickly reduced to being “encharged with the emperor’s literary studies.”35 Pedro II handled the entire business of governing unaided, drafting and making good copies of documents, keeping notes on the meetings he attended, corresponding in his own hand with ministers and lesser officials. He even tried to organize his papers himself, not always with good results. “The search was successful, I found two poems and some papers I had for some time been searching for,” he told his

  

  , ‒ brother-in-law Fernando in . “It is I who does everything in my study, and so don’t comment about everything not being in the best of order; time is too short for so much material.”36 When he had to deal with important matters involving his immediate family, Pedro II did occasionally use his wife to copy documents, but this was the sole exception to his usual practice.37 The emperor’s solitary nature and his refusal to share with anyone the task of governing Brazil did not mean that he eschewed human company, either in formal settings or in casual encounters. Pedro II’s own writings, particularly his diary for , make clear that his daily round involved endless interaction with his subjects. Two groups had the most constant and intimate relations with him. The first were the members of his court during their weekly turns of duty, and the second were the body servants in his household who gave personal service to the emperor. The court and the household, which provided the emperor with his intimates, had been transferred from Lisbon by his grandfather, King João VI, and maintained after independence by his father, Pedro I. The Côrte e Casa existed in isolation from the rest of society, being the cupola of a system of hierarchical and inherited privilege. Believing as he did in self-improvement, hard work, and the value of knowledge, Pedro II was indifferent to the traditional symbols of power and privilege. The court had atrophied during the regency. An instinctive conservatism and dislike of change made the emperor unwilling to embark on the formidable task of reforming the court’s elaborate etiquette and rooting out the household’s entrenched interests. Pedro II’s disregard for conditions of the Côrte e Casa may have also reflected the loss of faith in the future of the imperial regime which the death of his second son and male heir induced in the emperor. After , he gave no state balls, and the palace ceased to be the center of social activity. The proper upkeep of his palaces and the maintenance of a brilliant court necessitated constant expense that would have consumed a considerable part of his annual civil list. Pedro II preferred to give priority to other expenditures. Indicative was an observation that appeared in his  diary. “I spoke with [Antônio de Araújo Ferreira] Jacobina [Paulo Barbosa’s deputy as mordomo] about making economies in the Household, in order that I can give at least  contos [one-eighth of his civil list] as an endowment to benefit agriculture.”38 By the middle of the nineteenth century, the component parts of the system that underpinned the Côrte e Casa were visibly weakening. The great aristocratic families, such as the Saldanha da Gama and the Mascarenhas clans, had in Portugal dominated both the court and public life, but in Brazil they played no such role. Titles of nobility, which were not inheritable, were more and more conferred upon individuals in recompense for state or charitable services, not in recognition of illustrious ancestry. Titles and honors in the five orders of chival-

  

  , ‒ ry were still avidly sought, but increasingly they were valued for the social prestige they conferred rather than for any hierarchical rank or privilege they bestowed. Being “very poorly endowed with the gifts of imagination,” as he himself admitted in old age, the emperor failed to appreciate that the system required substantial reform if it were to survive.39 His indifference and neglect served to undermine what Walter Bagehot called “the dignified parts” of the monarchy—“those which appeal to the sense, which claim to be embodiments of the greatest human ideas, which boast in some cases of far more than human origin.”40 When the great officers of state died, he did not fill the vacant posts in the Côrte. He made no effort to expand the size of court or to recruit its members from a wider social circle of families. In  the Côrte was no larger than it had been in  during his father’s reign.41 It contained thirty-two chamberlains [gentishomens da imperial câmara, or camaristas as they were usually called] and twenty-eight gentlemen ushers [veadores]. In addition there existed eleven keepers of the wardrobe [guarda roupas] and thirteen doctors [médicos da imperial câmara] who belonged to the household [casa imperial] rather than the court itself.42 Each week, one member from each of the four categories entered into “waiting” [da semana], spending seven days in personal attendance on the emperor. In the morning the four semanários, as they were known, greeted the emperor and took his orders for the day. They accompanied Pedro II on his formal visits and they provided him with opportunities for conversation when he desired it. From the Jornal do Comércio newspaper it is possible to identify the semanários who served in all but two of the fifty-four weeks between July , , and June , . Ten out of the thirty-two chamberlains, eleven out of the twenty-eight gentlemen ushers, seven out of the eleven keepers of the wardrobe, and nine out of the thirteen physicians were called into service. But these figures are misleading. In each of the four categories, three individuals dominated the periods of waiting, together serving respectively twenty-nine, twenty-five, thirty-nine, and twenty-six weeks out of fifty-two.43 These twelve men formed, in other words, an inner circle about the emperor.44 Pedro II had known many of them since his childhood, or as time passed they were the offspring of his childhood acquaintances. On learning in  of the death of a gentleman usher [veador], Pedro II lamented in his diary: “Yet another person of my original acquaintance dead.”45 A substantial minority of those men had been educated in or had visited Europe, above all France, and were thereby conversant in the high culture of the day.46 They supplied the emperor with the intellectual milieu he desired, sharing as they did his view of the world and his set of values. Pedro II’s custom was to have a short talk with his semanários, the four men in attendance on him, at the end of each evening, just before retiring to his study for late-night reading.47

  

  , ‒ In the company of the twelve favored courtiers, the emperor felt at ease, and in their discretion he could trust absolutely. In his letter of February , , to his brother-in-law Fernando, he described one of the twelve, then about to visit Portugal: Nicolau Antônio Nogueira Vale da Gama has been for some years gentleman usher, and has served me with such dedication that it would be a revolting injustice if I did not propose him to be chamberlain when there may be appointments in the household. It is not just as a good servant [criado] that I value him, but I also value him as friend. For him the majesty is not always present, and for long past he has known me as a man. His spouse D. Maria Francisca Calmon da Silva Cabral was a childhood companion of my Sister the Queen [D. Maria II], your wife, whom she accompanied together with her mother, the countess of Itapagipe, to England. Besides this, she is sister of my chamberlain Francisco Xavier Calmon da Silva Cabral, Marechal do Campo, my aide-de-camp and friend of my heart, as is his brother-in-law; . . . You can talk with entire freedom about me to Nicolau, in whom you will always encounter the same circumspection and good sense.48

It is indicative of Pedro II’s confidence in Nogueira da Gama that he spontaneously allowed him to copy out the above passage from his letter which he was to deliver to King Fernando on reaching Lisbon.49 Not all the twelve courtiers in the inner circle were honored with the intimacy granted to Nogueira da Gama. In August , Ernesto Frederico de Verna Magalhães, a chamberlain who was son of D. Mariana de Verna Magalhães, wrote to Paulo Barbosa da Silva about the question, then under discussion at court, as to whether the mordomo would return from Europe after eight years’ absence and resume his post: But can this state of uncertainty continue for long? That’s what you should very much think about. I am told that our Master has even complained already about this, that is, I am told by his circle of intimates, which I don’t have the honor to belong to, far from that. He has not said a word to me on the subject, which is not surprising, since he honors me with few. But some days ago Tomás Gomes [dos Santos, a physician often in waiting] told me (and this is my principal reason for writing) that the Emperor asked him ex abrupto [out of the blue], when is Paulo arriving? ‘I don’t know, Sire. Paulo has never written to me and therefore I can say nothing because we have never corresponded; but if Your Majesty has the least desire for his return and makes it known, he would not delay in obeying.’50

As this letter shows, the courtiers’ proximity to the emperor gave them certain advantages. Their familiarity with his views on current subjects meant that

  

  , ‒ they possessed a certain influence, as long as they did not use it to advance their own or their family’s interests. They could informally present to Pedro II the case of individuals seeking favors. The emperor was far more likely to respond positively to a case made obliquely (for example, in a letter written to one of the inner circle) than to one stated in a face-to-face audience.51 The courtiers could choose the most opportune moment to discuss a subject or to advance it to the point of decision. Equally, the inner circle could provide precious information on the emperor’s state of mind and give a swift report on what decisions had been taken.52 Pedro II was not unaware of what was occurring.53 At times he used it for his own purposes. By deliberately revealing his opinion on a subject to one or more of his inner circle, he ensured that information would rapidly be retailed outside the court. Thus he had used D. José de Assis Mascarenhas, notoriously loose mouthed, to make known in  his determination to see the illegal African slave trade suppressed.54 Proximity to the emperor did not, however, ensure intimacy and influence. Paulo Barbosa da Silva discovered this truth to his chagrin when at the end of  he returned to Brazil and resumed his post as steward of the imperial household. As manager of the emperor’s and empress’s civil lists, their annual income granted by the legislature, the mordomo necessarily played a central role in the household’s affairs. Pedro II continued to use Barbosa da Silva, as he had done since the late s, as his “advance man.” Sr. Paulo, We leave tomorrow at  in the morning; give the necessary orders for the boat, the railroad, and the road. I trust that you are better. May ,  D. Pedro ˚55

The emperor was, however, determined to prevent a return to the days of “Paulo I, Pedro II.” He systematically kept Barbosa da Silva excluded from every matter of importance. Although treated with courtesy and never in danger of losing his post, Barbosa da Silva ceased to be an intimate. Pedro II’s diary for , for example, contains only three references to “Paulo.” On the mordomo’s decease early in , the emperor wrote simply: “Paulo Barbosa died a few days ago; I regret him sincerely. [José Joaquim de] Sequeira the chamberlain has replaced him.”56 The emperor’s refusal to allow Paulo Barbosa any influence had a financial dimension. Prior to his departure for Europe in , the mordomo had kept a tight control over the palace finances and, by extension, over Pedro II’s own expenditures. In Barbosa da Silva’s absence, the emperor started to spend money without keeping within budget or making provision for contingencies or capital costs.57 He had no hesitation about borrowing large sums on the security of

  

  , ‒ future revenue. In July , when he committed large sums to combating a major cholera epidemic, Pedro II took out a loan of  contos (some $,). He guaranteed business loans made to his childhood companion, Guilherme Schüch de Capanema, and, when in  Capanema’s business collapsed and the guarantees were called, the emperor had to borrow  contos to meet the obligation.58 Both D. Teresa Cristina and he were openhanded with alms, scholarships, and donations. “They praise my generosity,” he commented. “I don’t know why; I am content with little and I have  contos a year.”59 No wonder that Paulo Barbosa, who as mordomo was accountable in law for the imperial civil list, felt powerless and disregarded. He reportedly told the emperor, when the latter remarked that the civil list of  contos did not go as far as it had in the s that “at that time the mordomo governed, today Your Majesty governs.”60 While it is not easy to understand the role played in the emperor’s life by courtiers such as Nicolau Nogueira da Gama and Paulo Barbosa da Silva, information is even scarcer about the second group of intimates: Pedro II’s confidential servants. The  almanac listed eight criados particulares [personal servants] and a further three men holding the honorary rank of personal servant [criado particular honorário].61 The available evidence suggests that these individuals shared several characteristics. They were often Portuguese born, the offspring of palace servants, and sometimes married to other palace servants.62 Learning of the death in July  of José Maria Esposel, one of the criados particulares who had begun as a drummer in the palace guard, Pedro II commented: “I much regret the death of Esposel who was never less than an excellent servant from the time of my childhood.”63 It is clear that service in the palace offered many perquisites and chances for enrichment, both legal and illegal. During the s, the emperor paid for the schooling of the children of Esposel and those of at least two other criados particulares.64 After the first few years of his reign, Pedro II seems to have made no attempt to alter the existing organization of the palace, ending its rigidities, its inefficiencies, and its discomforts. “It is remarkable!” one of the emperor’s intimates is reported to have said. “At times I cannot contain myself over the bunglings committed in the palace; but the emperor never complains! You would have to see it to believe what goes on.”65 The personal servants and the palace staff probably exercised little direct influence on the emperor, but they did serve to make his personal life conform to a fixed pattern. This conservatism he did not find objectionable. He valued stability in his life and preferred familiar, established ways. When he so desired, he could disregard the formalities of the palace establishment and the constraints of court etiquette. They in no way restricted his freedom of action. Women were entirely absent from Pedro II’s court entourage and his body

  

  , ‒ servants. Within the palace, the only females of standing were D. Teresa Cristina’s ladies-in-waiting and her açafatas [maids of honor]. The empress herself was integral to Pedro II’s daily existence, but she played little part in his emotional or intellectual life. D. Teresa Cristina continued to be passionately devoted to “my dear and always beloved Pedro,” her most nagging fear being the possibility of losing him. “How sad it is to be a widow,” she wrote to him in . “I know of no condition worse than that of widowhood.”66 She therefore sought to be as closely tied to him as he would permit, but proximity did not signify intimacy. Pedro II was always attentive and courteous to her in public, but he had in fact disengaged. It was not that he treated his wife with deliberate unkindness, nor did he actively reject her. “I sincerely respect and esteem my wife,” he wrote in the first entry of his  diary. “The individual qualities which compose her personality are excellent.”67 When D. Teresa Cristina suffered a severe attack of measles in July of that year, he noted that “the thought of losing her made me realize how much I esteem her and she showed how much she loves me.” The next day he wrote: “The empress is better, but I still have fears and, when they attack me, I have trouble containing my tears. I believe my words of encouragement and proofs of my friendship have greatly aided the empress’s improvement.”68 Such expressions of affection and concern were exceptional. In the ordinary course of life, Pedro II paid no regard to D. Teresa Cristina’s views and needs, and, “on the principle that the husband is the one who should rule in the house,” he allowed her absolutely no independence.69 After their daughters married and established their own residences, he did not even permit her to visit them unless he accompanied her.70 The empress did not challenge her lot. She lived through and for her husband, even if often not with him. “It is very hard for me this separation of  days,” she wrote to him on one occasion, “but since it is for your entertainment I reconcile myself to it, and I pray that God will protect you and give you a good journey.”71 D. Teresa Cristina passed her days knitting, reading, and writing letters. She devoted a great deal of time to religious duties and to alms-giving. She was not in the least interested in politics and had no circle of friends beyond her small group of ladies-in-waiting. The empress’s principal companion was D. Josefina da Fonseca Costa, some ten years her elder, who had taken up her post in  following the death of her fiancé. Although not highly cultured or intellectual, D. Teresa Cristina was a good judge of character, both of those constantly at court and of occasional visitors. The empress was without the least pretension, wearing jewels only on state occasions. “She was openhanded—all the palace staff adored her,” noted Tobias Monteiro, the historian. “Kindly in her manner, but a certain vein of sadness in her character.” The affection which she could not lavish on her spouse she bestowed on her daughters and later on her grandchildren.72

  

  , ‒

Figure . D. Isabel and D. Leopoldina in about 

Within the emperor’s family the only females of consequence to him were his two daughters, “whom I love dearly.”73 He was a strict father who demanded obedience but, as their childhood letters to him show, D. Isabel, born in , and D. Leopoldina, a year later, both loved and admired him.74 By the middle of the s it was clear to all that the imperial couple would have no more children, and therefore no son and heir. The inheritance belonged to his two daughters, a status that their father somewhat reluctantly acknowledged. “As to their education I will only say that the character of both the princesses ought to be shaped as suits Ladies who, it may be, will have to direct the constitutional government of an Empire such as that of Brazil,” Pedro II wrote in . “The education should not differ from that given to men, combined with that suited the other sex, but in a manner that does not detract from the first.”75 On July , , her fourteenth birthday, D. Isabel, as heir apparent to the throne, took the oath prescribed by article  of the constitution, in a ceremony held in the Senate chamber.76 To his daughters’ upbringing and education Pedro II devoted a great deal of time and attention but not much imagination. Treated equally by their father, D. Isabel and D. Leopoldina were given a schooling that he would himself have liked to have received. Pedro II did not exaggerate when he wrote that, along with “learning and reading,” “the education of my daughters . . . [are] my principal sources of enjoyment.”77 He himself drew up and monitored their weekly schedule of lessons, which occupied nine and a half hours a day, six days a week. At seven o’clock in the evening, Pedro II personally gave his daughters half an hour’s instruction in Latin or read to them from the four volumes of João de Barros’s Décadas da Ásia, a classic of Portuguese literature. At eleven o’clock on

  

  , ‒ Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, he read to them from Camoes’s As Lusíadas, the preeminent work of Portuguese poetry. The princesses also studied the French, English, and German languages; geography; Portuguese, French, and English history; geography and geology; astronomy; chemistry; physics; geometry and arithmetic; piano; and dance. Their instructors included two of his own teachers, three of Pedro II’s favorite intellectuals, and a number of paid instructors.78 By the traditions of the Portuguese monarchy, the heir to the throne had to be placed in late childhood in the charge of an aio, or supervisor. Since D. Isabel was female, the customs of the time dictated that the governor also be female. Finding a woman of the appropriate standing, culture, and education to be aia was no easy task. Pedro II first offered the post to his widowed stepmother, then living in Lisbon. It was probably his sister D. Francisca, princess of Joinville, who suggested the appointment of her former lady-in-waiting, the countess of Barral.79 Born in Bahia in , Luísa Margarida Portugal de Barros was the daughter of the viscount of Pedra Branca, who had been the first Brazilian envoy to France and became a senator in . Brought up in France, in  she had married Jean Joseph Horace Eugène, count of Barral. In the s she had served as lady-in-waiting to D. Francisca, princess of Joinville, at the court of King Louis Philippe. After the overthrow of the Orléans dynasty in , the Barrals had left France and retired to her father’s plantations in Bahia province. It was on those properties that in March  the countess of Barral received the mordomo’s invi-

Figure . Pedro II, with D. Teresa Cristina, teaching their daughters in . D. Isabel stands to the right

  

  , ‒

Figure . Luísa Margarida Portugal de Barros, countess of Barral, aia [supervisor] of D. Isabel and D. Leopoldina

tation. After some negotiation as to her status and powers, she accepted the appointment and with her husband and infant son arrived in Rio late in August of that year.80 The countess of Barral occupied the post of aia for the next eight years, serving until her charges married at the end of . She quickly established her authority both in the schoolroom and over the court servants, who resented the intrusion of an outsider. She provided the two princesses with a systematic and quite effective upbringing, but one which was highly traditional in its outlook. “God gave to men their share of work and another one to women,” she informed D. Isabel. “Each should remain in that sphere, unless it is Joan of Arc inspired by God.”81 For D. Isabel in particular, the countess acted as a role model and came close to being a surrogate mother. The two women remained constant friends throughout their lives.82 The countess of Barral possessed all the qualities needed to succeed as supervisor to the emperor’s offspring. She was attractive, vivacious, intelligent, adept in the social graces, au courant with the world of culture, and very much part of the French aristocracy. These were also precisely the qualities that Pedro II desired in a woman. It is not surprising that he too fell under the countess’s spell from the very moment she took up her post early in September . He

  

  , ‒ wooed her with all the pertinacity he possessed and all the skill he could muster. She was, however, a good Catholic, a faithful spouse and mother. In her the intellect ruled, not the heart. She may not have escaped Pedro II’s embraces but she certainly avoided his bed. She soon learned how to handle him and his passion, treating him with a mixture of frankness and respect.83 The relationship did not go beyond what the French call amitié amoureuse, an amorous friendship enduring until her death in January , some thirty-five years later. “In Notre Dame des Roses I heard a mass for Barral whom I will never forget.”84 For the countess of Barral her friendship with the emperor brought intimacy with the great and a certain influence in patronage questions. She wisely kept her requests on behalf of family and friends quite modest. For the empress the appearance within her own household of a rival spouse—for such soon became the countess’s role—was galling. Being by nature and upbringing unassertive and dutiful, D. Teresa Cristina acquiesced in her lot, pretending not to notice much she in fact saw. D. Teresa Cristina resented the countess’s intimacy with Pedro II, her ability to charm and manipulate, and her determination to get what she wanted. In January , following an argument over the management of D. Leopoldina’s behavior, the countess of Barral “wished to make me tell her that I did not like her,” D. Teresa Cristina wrote in her diary, “but I did not say either yes or no.” Tobias Monteiro, who gathered much evidence on Pedro II’s attachments, noted simply: “The empress could not disguise that she detested Barral.”85 The countess was far from being D. Teresa Cristina’s sole cause for grief. Susceptible to an attractive face and a cultivated mind, Pedro II had a persistent fantasy that he would one day encounter the soul mate hitherto denied him.86 In search of this ideal Pedro II became involved in the s and s with at least two women. The first, Maria Eugênia Lopes de Paiva, was a year younger than the emperor and the daughter of the viscount of Maranguape, a senator and former minister. She married twice and was known successively as “Mariquinhas Guedes,” after her first spouse, who died in , and “Madame Jones,” after her second husband, whom she married in .87 “She was very beautiful—a look of enchanting sweetness,” Tobias Monteiro, the historian, was told. “The emperor’s courtship of her was insistent.” Pedro II’s second known involvement was with Carolina Bregaro, also born in  and the niece of a confidential servant of Pedro I. At Lisbon in  she married a Brazilian diplomat, Rodrigo Delfim Pereira, who was Pedro II’s illegitimate and unacknowledged half-brother by his father.88 The couple returned from Europe to Rio at the start of the s, and the affair with Pedro II probably began at this time, lasting for about a decade. The relationship came close to causing a public scandal. One night a police patrol, suspecting a break-in at Carolina Pereira’s house, found Pedro II and a

  

  , ‒

Figure . Maria Eugênia Lopes de Paiva, Sra. Guedes, and later Sra. Jones

companion vainly trying to gain entry. On learning the suspects’ identity, the patrol hastily withdrew.89 Pedro II with good cause confessed in his diary on December , , shortly after his thirty-seventh birthday: “I would exist with a totally tranquil conscience, if my heart could be a little older than I am.”90 These encounters were not and could not be kept entirely secret, but, as an anonymous British observer commented in , the emperor was “ostensibly correct in life, and so conducting his amours, as to save the Empress and his family from pain, to avoid public scandal, and to maintain perfect freedom for himself from the influence of favorites.”91 Pedro II thoroughly agreed on the importance of this last point. “I have not had nor do I have favorites,” he wrote in his diary for , “striving to avoid even any accusation on this subject, above all in respect to female favorites.”92 The point needs stressing. Whatever happened in private, the emperor allowed no Madame de Pompadour, no Lola Montez in his life. Equally, there was no Cardinal Richelieu or Prince Metternich in his reign. He permitted intimacy only to those, female and male, who proved by their conduct that they would not attempt to influence him or to use their proximity to him for profit or self-advancement. Even with those who proved their trustworthiness Pedro II maintained areas of reserve, holding back from the complete openness which

  

  , ‒ might have entailed a loss of control. At the start of the s his closest male associates were, as the emperor’s letter to his brother-in-law Fernando of Portugal stated, Nicolau Antônio Nogueira Vale da Gama, his chamberlain, and Francisco Xavier Calmon da Silva Cabral, an aide-de-camp. In the late s Pedro II became increasingly close to his childhood companion Luís Pedreira do Couto Ferraz, future viscount of Bom Retiro, who had been the emperor’s companion in  and who served as minister of the empire (interior) from  to . “The emperor and Pedreira were made to be friends; they had the same moderation, the same prudence,” noted Joaquim Nabuco de Araújo, a well-connected politician who had known both men, “the same sympathies and preferences, almost even the same tastes and liking for the same people.”93 Bom Retiro was sufficiently shrewd and self-denying to appreciate that intimacy with Pedro II entailed both not becoming minister again and putting service to the emperor before his own personal convenience. “I was surprised that Bom Retiro did not go down the mines of Dannemora [in Sweden] with you, but not about the others [failing to do so],” the empress commented on one occasion.94 Intimacy with Pedro II was rare and was granted upon conditions solely determined by him. Monarchs always stand alone in terms of status, and by the early s the emperor had ensured that he faced no rivals for power. There was, however, one potential challenger he could not eliminate: D. Isabel, his daughter and heir. The history of the European monarchies is replete with tensions, often erupting into open conflict, between a ruler set in his ways and his maturing offspring. Every monarch wished to raise an heir worthy of himself and yet feared to do so because such an heir would rival and supplant him. Conversely, heirs chafed at the subordination and obedience demanded of them and resented the lack of appreciation of their talents. In such disputes political communities were divided in their loyalties. To offend the existing ruler was to risk immediate ostracism, yet the maturing heir would one day, perhaps in the very near future, take power and so had also to be accommodated. In the case of Brazil, the fact that the heir was female altered but did not eliminate the potential for rivalry. Much would depend upon the personality of D. Isabel and upon the relationship she established with her father. From early in her life it was clear that she had a will and interests of her own. “My dear parents,” ran an early note from D. Isabel, “I ask you a thousand pardons for having offended so many times. Today I spent an hour at confession.”95 As her father observed when she was seventeen, “Isabel it seems is going to be willful, and her sister the opposite.”96 The education that D. Isabel received, one quite exceptional for women of that period, gave her both the inspiration and the means to establish, when adult, a position in life autonomous of her father.

  

  , ‒ A number of factors visible during D. Isabel’s childhood made such a development unlikely. D. Isabel did not lack powers of observation and a certain shrewdness, but she was very accepting of existence as it was and certainly not given to pondering the justification for the established order. The heir to the throne may have acquired a learning “more suitable for the other sex,” but during that upbringing she also absorbed from her instructors conformity to traditional gender roles. She accepted women as dependent and obedient, and indeed her mother’s and her governess’s behavior did not justify anything else. In her relationship with her parents, D. Isabel gave little or no regard to her mother. Her world revolved around her father, and it was a relationship that did not forebode any major conflict between them. “Daddy, don’t fail to look at the gray colored moon and Venus,” one of her earliest letters to him reads. “Daddy, don’t fail to look at the moon before you go to bed, Isabel C[ristina].”97 As this note shows, she was capable of independent observation but she did so within the terms set by her father, who was the superior being and supreme arbitrator. Two undated notes from D. Isabel to Pedro II and his replies on them make the point clear. Appeal to the supreme court. When I finish studying and my sister is still doing so, may I not relax until she finishes? I am talking only about this hour [of study] IC The rule is always that you study during the time assigned for study. The Chemist asks the Physicist to give her a guide on style. Who were the children of Abele? I believe that one of the children is Phine. It is good to remember things but better to use reasoning, and you don’t think. As long as there is no pleasure in reading unless it is done by others, the Physicist will have to complain that his advice by example is not being followed, even though physics is very friendly to chemistry.98

D. Isabel was at an essential disadvantage with her father. She had a strong personality but she could not turn it to account. As a child she did not share Pedro II’s seriousness, his singlemindedness, or his interest in the larger world. The coming of adolescence did not improve matters. In the early s, D. Isabel’s handwriting, never notable for its clarity, became more careless than ever. “Realize my dear princess,” the countess of Barral wrote in reproof in June , “that Y. H. will shortly be  and that you ought not now to lose one day in remedying what for excessive love and indulgence we have all more or less allowed until now!”99 In her passage through adolescence to maturity, D. Isabel received little support from her father. If Pedro II lavished care and attention on his daughters’ education, he made no effort to prepare D. Isabel for the actual

  

  , ‒ task of ruling Brazil. He deliberately secluded his adolescent daughters from all and any participation in public life. Until they married, they were not permitted even to attend the public theater or go to any ball. There is no evidence that he ever showed the young D. Isabel state papers, instructed her in the business of government, or included her in his handling of affairs.100 Pedro II’s treatment of his daughters reflected the view of women then prevailing. He kept his adolescent daughters strictly within the separate and private spheres to which women were then relegated. Even adult women were deemed unable to handle ordinary business, much less matters of state. To survive they needed a man—a father and then a husband—to guide and protect them. Under the Brazilian constitution, D. Isabel would be capable of reigning by herself, without a regency, on her eighteenth birthday, July , . Ten months before that date, the emperor set about finding husbands for D. Isabel and for her sister, then aged sixteen. The search was no easy task for a variety of reasons. It was impossible for either princess to marry a Brazilian. No eligible man of sufficiently distinguished lineage lived in the country, and without royal ancestry no husband could command respect. Further, to choose a Brazilian would give the husband’s family precedence and advantage over every other family of standing in the country and arouse intense hostility. The husbands had to be foreigners. Finding spouses from the royal houses of Europe was no less difficult than it had been with Pedro II’s own marriage. Article  of the  constitution gave the reigning emperor control of selecting the spouse of a female heir to the throne.101 Since Pedro II was determined to retain this prerogative, he could not employ the Brazilian diplomatic corps to scout out suitable candidates for his daughters or to conduct negotiations. He was determined to carry out the search and to conclude the marriage agreements by himself. The emperor’s options were extremely limited. He possessed few contacts with the royal families of Europe, and he also held strong views as to which royal houses were suitable. Given both the provisions of the Brazilian constitution and popular prejudices, any husband had to be Catholic in religion. This restriction eliminated at least half of the eligible princes of the royal families of Europe. Even within the dynasties of Catholic faith, the emperor had his preferences. The emperor’s first move was to write, on September , , to his brotherin-law, the prince of Joinville. The letter reflects Pedro II’s character and his attitudes. I must arrange the marriages of my daughters, and I expect from you all that our friendship of so many years gives promise. As husband of Isabel I prefer over anyone else your son, and for that of Leopoldina the count of Flanders. About Pedro [Joinville’s son] I have very

  

  , ‒ good reports, and he is your child and that of my sister Chica [D. Francisca]. I cannot judge with equal confidence about the count of Flanders, but I am sure that you will not let me err, but will act as if she were your own daughter.

Pedro II next discussed various points, including the necessity for absolute secrecy and the need for any husband to renounce his rights of succession to another throne. The letter continued: Isabel has frequently told me that she wants to marry no one but your son Pedro; but I simply replied that she must marry whom I choose, in which she concurs, being a good daughter. For this reason, as you must have inferred, I cannot wish the marriage of Leopoldina with Pedro, but should the latter not marry Isabel I prefer the count of Flanders as her husband. . . . If Isabel’s marriage with Pedro or the count of Flanders cannot be arranged, then I ask you as of now to concern yourself only with that of your goddaughter [D. Leopoldina], giving you only the following recommendations: the husband ought to be Catholic, Liberal in outlook and not be Portuguese, Spanish or Italian and I would wish him not to be Austrian. . . . Nothing must be done of a binding nature without my daughters being consulted and consenting, and in that case I must be in a position to use the information you will supply, and you will send me nonflattering photographs of the intended and even other portraits from which their appearance can be deduced. I would very much wish my daughters to be married when Isabel becomes  or shortly thereafter.102

To this formidable set of requests and instructions, the prince of Joinville returned on November , , a temporizing reply designed to prepare the emperor for disappointment. “There is nothing more difficult than marrying a young princess, as Queen Victoria told me not long ago. I know something about it myself,” Joinville commented. “The burden is even greater when that princess is heir to a throne.”103 He would have to consult his son as to the proposal, but he doubted that he would accept. In respect to the count of Flanders he would make inquiries. As Joinville pointed out, the number of suitable candidates was small, given the emperor’s list of exclusions, and among them Joinville included “all my nephews, sons of my brothers, both Nemours and Aumale, and of my sister Clementine.” As Joinville anticipated, his son refused the marriage proposal (and in fact would never marry), while the count of Flanders proved unavailable.104 In place of his son, Joinville wrote on December , , recommending August of SaxeCoburg-Gotha. The second son of Joinville’s sister Clementine and of Duke August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha of Germany, the young man was closely related

  

  , ‒  .    -,     Louis Philippe = Marie-Amélie princess of Naples (  ) Louise = Leopold I king of the Belgians (  ) Leopold II

Clementine = August of Louis Duke = Victoria of Saxe-Coburgof Nemours of Saxe-CoburgGotha Gotha (  ) (  )

Pierre duke of Penthièvre

Philip count of Flanders

Isabel princess = Gaston of Brazil count d’Eu (  )

Pedro = Elizabeth countess Luís = Maria Pia Dobrzensky de of Bourbon Dobrzenicz Sicily

François Prince = Francisca princess of Joinville of Brazil (  )

Philip duke of Alençon

Antônio

Philip

August = Leopoldina princess of Brazil (  )

Françoise

Ferdinand I tsar of Bulgaria

Pedro Augusto Augusto = Carolina José Luís=Matilda Archduchess princess of of Habsburg Bavaria

to Queen Victoria of England, Leopold I of Belgium, and King Fernando of Portugal. Handsome, healthy, very intelligent, and a good linguist, August was aged eighteen and then serving as an officer in the Austrian navy. “He is active, boisterous and lively in character but a very good lad,” Joinville remarked. The letter also mentioned “the two sons of my brother [the duke of] Nemours, the first aged , the other aged .” “The elder [the count d’Eu] is tall and strong, very well educated, and very distinguished but somewhat deaf. He has just participated brilliantly in the war with Morocco. The second is the handsomest young man in the world full of heart and spirit but a little lazy.” In a postscript Joinville urged the emperor: “Think about my nephew August. There are lots of advantages and guarantees on his side. He for your older and one of the sons of Nemours for your younger. That would be for me the most ideal arrangement. I am sending you some photographs which will give you an idea of the individuals.”105 Pedro II’s response to this proposal was what might be expected of him. He was cautious about Joinville’s favorite, requesting more information, “because August is very young, and with the nature he appears to possess he will behave here in a way that offends the public proprieties.” “As to the sons of Nemours I’ll make no comment now except to tell you that the lazy one does not please

  

  , ‒  .        -- Francis Frederick duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld Louise of = Ernest duke Victoria = Edward duke Gotha of Saxe-Coburgof Kent Gotha Ernest

Albert = Victoria queen of Great Britain

Maria I queen of = Ferdinand king Portugal Consort of (  ) Portugal

~

Pedro V

Luís I = Maria Pia princess of Italy

j

Leopold

Philip

Leopold I = Louise princess Ferdinand = Antoinette princess Kohary king of the of France Belgians (  ) Leopold II

Philip count of Flanders

August = Clementine princess of France (  )

Victoria = Louis duke of Nemours (  )

Philip duke of August = Leopoldina Ferdinand I Gaston = Isabel count princess of Alençon princess of tsar of d’Eu Brazil Brazil Bulgaria (  ) (  )

Pedro = Elizabeth countess Luís = Maria Pia Antônio Pedro Augusto Augusto = Carolina José Luís = Matilda Dobrzensky de of Bourbon archduchess princess of Dobrzenicz Sicily of Habsburg Bavaria

me.”106 Joinville in reply lauded the qualities of his candidates: “I am sending you the most recent photograph that I can find of the count d’Eu, eldest son of my brother Nemours. If you could put your hand on him for one of your daughters, it would be perfection. He is tall, strong, attractive, good, gentle, very friendly, very educated, loving study and, in addition, he already has a certain military fame.  years old. He is a bit hard of hearing, but not enough to be a defect.” “August of Saxe-Coburg is younger. I believe him to be good and intelligent. He has been well brought up but he doesn’t have the count d’Eu’s talent for study. He is good looking and well built. He is very lively and will be perhaps a bit flighty. I believe that his service in the Austrian navy will do him good.”107 Although the prince of Joinville in no way intended that his letter should decide Pedro II’s mind, that is exactly what it did. Subject to his daughters’ consent, the emperor selected Gaston, count d’Eu, for D. Isabel and August of SaxeCoburg-Gotha for D. Leopoldina. He so informed Joinville on April . The emperor did concede that the two young men had to come to Brazil with no prior commitment on their part, so that they could see and decide for themselves.108 This concession alone kept the projected marriages alive because, as Joinville made repeatedly clear, August’s parents held out for nothing less than their son’s union with D. Isabel. “The eldest [daughter] has been suggested to

  

  , ‒

Figure . D. Isabel and her husband, Gaston d’Orléans, count d’Eu, at the time of their wedding

August and the prospect of the position, of a throne to occupy has turned the heads of all the Coburgs.”109 More precisely, the match between August and D. Isabel had the backing of August’s mother, Princess Clementine of SaxeCoburg-Gotha, duchess of Saxony, a woman of formidable character and ambition. Daughter of King Louis-Philippe of France and so aunt to the count d’Eu, Clementine dominated her husband and spoilt her children. Having herself married no more than a wealthy but undistinguished prince, she sought thrones for her sons. It was her third and youngest, Ferdinand, who would eventually fulfill that ambition, establishing himself as tsar of Bulgaria.110 In the case of her second son, Princess Clementine’s expectations were to be thwarted. After prolonged negotiations and some delays, the two young cousins left Lisbon in August  on the monthly steamer for Rio. Meanwhile, in Brazil a law establishing the financial conditions for the princesses’ marriage was passed by the legislature, and in the middle of August a short official announcement made public the approaching visit of the princes to Rio.111 The surviving letters that Gaston, count d’Eu, sent home to his father and sister in England reveal his first impressions of Brazil, of Pedro II and his family, and of the negotiations concerning his marriage.112 Next to its tropical climate and vegetation, what struck the prince most about Brazil was the presence in all

  

  , ‒ walks of life of people wholly or partly African by descent. In general he was content. “The country which surrounds us is magnificent and much more advanced in civilization than I expected and the public is very friendly,” he told his sister on September , four days after his arrival at Rio.113 The first meeting with the imperial family took place on the day of the princes’ arrival. The count d’Eu described the emperor and empress as “extremely friendly and good, although he has a very serious and almost grim look.” The princesses “are ugly, but the second decidedly less attractive than the other, smaller, less strong, and in sum less sympathetic.” During the first two interviews, conducted in French, the two young women spoke only in monosyllables. His daughters consenting to the choices made for them, on September  Pedro II communicated to the count d’Eu a proposal of marriage to D. Isabel. “At first it much perturbed me, but I believe less and less that I ought to refuse the important post which God has placed in my path.”114 To August of SaxeCoburg-Gotha went the offer of D. Leopoldina’s hand. The young men were given two weeks in which to make up their minds. “Gusty,” as his family called him, showed no disappointment at losing the heir to the throne. Unlike his mother, he was without driving ambition, a man for

Figure28. D. Leopoldina and her husband, August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, at the time of their wedding

  

  , ‒ whom pleasure came first.115 The count d’Eu was made of sterner stuff. “The day before yesterday, September , I decided to accept the hand of the Princess Imperial. I believe her more capable than her younger sister of assuring my domestic happiness,” he wrote to his sister. “However, so that you will not be shocked when you see my Isabel, I warn you that her face is not in any way pretty; above all she has a characteristic which I could not fail to notice. It is that she completely lacks eyebrows. But her turnout and her figure are gracious.”116 The union between D. Isabel and Gaston was thus arranged, with D. Leopoldina shortly thereafter becoming engaged to August. The marriage between the heir to the throne and the count d’Eu took place on October , , with as much pomp and magnificence as the Brazilian court could muster. That same afternoon the newlyweds left Rio to spend their honeymoon in Petrópolis.117 The next morning Pedro II wrote to his daughter: I have just got up. It’s  o’clock and my first thought cannot fail to belong to you both. I hope that you are well and that Gaston’s cold has disappeared. We spent the rest of the day yesterday very lonely; but, at the same time, entirely satisfied to see you both indissolubly joined for your happiness.118

The marriage of D. Leopoldina and August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha followed on December , . The unions marked the end of a distinct era in Pedro II’s life.

  

 

The Usages of Power, 1853–64



F

“From here I have, fortunately, nothing to send you but good news,” Pedro II wrote to his eldest sister, Queen Maria II of Portugal, in September . “The country is tranquil and prospering, and the public’s interest is focused on material improvements; on the th past I began the works for the railroad that will run to the Serra de Estrela [the coastal mountain range] and I hope to see them finished at the end of next year or at the start of ’.”1 The letter spoke true. In the early s there began a period of tranquillity in the emperor’s public life, a tranquillity matched and to a degree caused by the stability and prosperity Brazil itself now enjoyed. The suppression of the African slave trade and the overthrow of Juan Manuel de Rosas gave proof of the country’s strength and capacity in both internal and external affairs. Capital released from the slave trade flowed into internal investments, while the economy benefited from the growing foreign demand for coffee. The provinces of Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo experienced a long boom. New forms of communication—the railroad, steamship, and electric telegraph—offered prospects for Brazil’s provinces being knit together into a single, efficient, and coherent whole. A mood of optimism and goodwill prevailed. Among the Latin American nations only Chile matched Brazil in political stability and in the strength of its economy. Brazil’s enviable state of affairs was due, opinion both at home and abroad concurred, to two factors: its governance as a monarchy and the character of Pedro II. “In the midst of all the Republican institutions of South America, the Brazilian has alone flourished great and free,” the Illustrated London News observed in October . “The others have fallen to tyrants, or crumbled to pieces from the defective elements which composed them.”2 The model of what

  

   , ‒

Brazil, 1855 National - · · - boundary Provincial •••••••· boundary

Atlantic Ocean

Map . Brazil in 

a sovereign should be, Pedro II was the equal of any reigning monarch in Europe, the contemporary press proclaimed. “Happy monarch who reigns over such a country! Happy country which has the felicity to possess such a monarch!” L’Illustration of Paris enthused in January .3 “He has large blue eyes, fair and abundant hair and beard,” the Illustrated London News informed its readers, “a northern type which seems to have come from fair Germany rather than the warm latitudes of brown Rio.” In his conduct of the government, Pedro II displayed “good sense, prudence, sagacity, and firmness.” “He devotes himself to the encouragement of all industrial enterprises by encouraging public works, and perfecting the navigation of the rivers.”4

  

   , ‒ Brazil’s ruler was also a model citizen. He possessed “the courteous manners of a gentleman,” the Illustrated London News pointed out. “In every branch of learning that it was thought necessary to teach him, he made remarkable progress.” He was “strongly attached to literature” and devoured “historical or literary papers concerning the foundation of his Empire.” “His private library, enriched by more than , volumes, has been selected with exquisite taste and discernment.”5 At the end of the s a British observer living in Rio de Janeiro echoed this judgment: “The Emperor is an accomplished cultivated learned prince; quite competent to discuss grave questions with men of European Science; carefully observant of Constitutional forms; economical and moderate in his expenditure; a Gentleman in manner and deportment.”6 The most sweeping of these foreign encomiums came in  from the pen of an American clergyman: It is very rare, in the history of nations, to find a monarch who combines all that the most scrupulous legitimist would exact, who is limited by all the checks that a constitutionalist would require, and yet has the greatest claim for the respect of his subjects, and the admiration of the world, in his native talent and in his acquisitions in science and literature. These rare combinations meet in Dom Pedro II.7

Public opinion in Brazil enthusiastically endorsed this assessment of their ruler. The young emperor provided what O Cronista had in June , when the civil wars and social unrest were at their height, declared “all Brazilians want.” In Pedro II they had found “a strong monarch who curbs the ambitions of the discontented and suppresses the fanaticism of the masses, an able monarch who reconciles liberty with order, with internal peace, with the development of the country, with its artistic and literary glory.”8 Pedro II’s qualities as a citizen and as emperor made him seem indispensable to the continued success of Brazil as a nation-state. A toast offered at an official banquet, given in the capital of Paraná province early in , characterized Pedro II as the “symbol of peace and of the spiritual, literary, artistic, and productive institutions that constitute the pride of the civilized nations existing in the nineteenth century.”9 He had become, so to speak, part of the natural order of existence, and only the rash or the foolish would seek to replace him with some other form of government or to challenge the direction that he sought to give the country. As monarch Pedro II influenced and was influenced by the political and social structures that made up Brazil. He did not rule in splendid isolation, nor was he a mere bystander whose advice politicians heeded only as it suited their interests. The emperor ruled, but in order to do so he had to secure the coopera-

  

   , ‒ tion and backing of the national politicians, several hundred strong during the s. He had also to reach beyond them, attracting the loyalty of the dominant socioeconomic interests across Brazil. The success of Pedro II’s reign lay in this interaction between the monarch and the individuals and interests surrounding him. Since the direction of government belonged to the emperor, he could shape public affairs in the way he thought best. That is precisely what occurred. On September , , Pedro II wrote to Fernando of Portugal, his brother-in-law: The most important news is the change in the ministry, . . . The policy continues the same and all the ministers are my acquaintances and some of them almost my intimates, they have talent, they are orators, and I hope that they will capably implement my program.10

The emperor was describing the formation of the Conciliação ministry headed by Honório Hermeto Carneiro Leão, marquis of Paraná. A leader of the Regresso movement (–) and a founder of the Conservative party, Paraná was a man of strong views, a stronger will, and an acid tongue. In July  he had rallied the Coimbra bloc against an immediate majority. In January , when Pedro II refused to dismiss the inspector of the Rio customs house, Paraná had taken open umbrage and resigned as minister. He continued thereafter a stalwart of the “party of order.” His conservative credentials were impeccable, and, as the emperor later remarked, “Paraná did not kowtow” [Paraná não se curvava].11 Now, in September , he consented to head a ministry which declared the day of party allegiances over and embraced the goals of “conciliação e melhoramentos.” This phrase embodied the essence of what Pedro II in his letter to his brother-in-law termed “my program.” The second of the two goals, melhoramentos, meaning literally “improvements,” was roughly equivalent to the concepts of development and modernization. As a nation-state, Brazil derived from the European original, above all France. From Europe came the official culture, and Europe provided the blueprint and guide for Brazil’s future. In the official mind, Brazil was a “Latin” country, destined to be the France of South America. Of course, reality in Brazil was quite different. The country lacked most of the attributes deemed essential in a civilized society. The bulk of the population were illiterate, impoverished, and in the main Indian or African by descent. As Brazil’s ruler and model citizen, Pedro II was the pledge and the promise not of what the young nation was but of what it could and should be. Because he embraced European culture and the new technology, he represented the future. The emperor now wished to turn the dream into reality, to introduce into Brazil the benefits of progress. Railroads, electric telegraphs, and carriage roads were to be constructed. Immigrants, such

  

   , ‒ as the Rhinelanders who had settled Petrópolis, were to be attracted from Europe. As the prince of Joinville wrote to Paulo Barbosa da Silva early in : “If European colonization flows in that direction, the future of Brazil will be assured. The circumstances are favorable.”12 Ordinary Brazilians were to be educated and become literate, orderly, and hardworking citizens. The country would thus become the France of South America. All this was to be achieved without any disruption of the existing social order, save that the introduction of these improvements would cause slavery to fade away. The term conciliação, the Paraná cabinet’s twin goal, is more difficult to translate. It signified nonpartisanship, compromise, and conciliation. Above all, it was intended to put an end to parties and party politics, ending factionalism and exclusivity. Policy questions would be debated calmly and rationally. Public good, not partisan advantage, would motivate decisions taken, to the benefit of Brazilian society as a whole. Government posts would be filled according to the individual merit of the candidates, not in response to party affiliation or to the pressures of patronage. Such a conception of public affairs and their conduct was influential at this time. In Great Britain in  a coalition cabinet took office composed, in the words of its head, “of able and distinguished men, differing from each other in some respects, but united, as I trust, in a sincere desire to promote the welfare and prosperity of their own country, as well as the interests of humanity.” It was the Aberdeen cabinet which commissioned the NorthcoteTrevelyan report, notable for recommending that all posts in the civil service be filled by competitive examination.13 In  and long thereafter Pedro II embraced wholeheartedly the ideals underlying conciliação, ideals that guided, he believed, his own conduct of state affairs. “I have a justice-loving soul,” the opening entry in his  diary asserted. “I cannot admit any favor not that of justice.” “My politics have always been that of justice in the broadest sense, that is, of reason free from the passions, as far as men can achieve it.”14 This principle he sought to follow, as far as he could, in ruling the country. The  diary—the first of any length to survive—provides ample evidence of his unrelenting efforts in this direction. Pedro II expended much time and energy trying to ensure that only the most qualified candidates filled vacant government posts. He sought to block expenditures that smacked of patronage and payoffs. The emperor thus objected to the ministers’ use of public funds to plant articles in the press or even to subsidize an entire newspaper. For that reason he long advocated the founding of an official daily dedicated to explaining the policies of the government in office.15 The emperor encountered throughout his reign considerable and sustained resistance to his goals. “My ideas concerning justice do not attract enough supporters of sufficient conscientiousness such as is necessary to ensure that affairs

  

   , ‒ are conducted as I desire,” he complained. After reading a book that analyzed the role of patronage in the governing of Brazil, the emperor conceded that access to such patronage might be considered essential “to all the ministers who, often being [political] novices, need to create a clientele. I cannot accept,” he went on, “this alleged necessity for the system.”16 Not being an autocrat, Pedro II could not dictate compliance with his ideals, while open reproach and recrimination would have put at risk the cooperation he needed to make the political system work. “However, I don’t lose heart, despite my long standing experience, and I will go on preaching the ideas which alone can, in my opinion, redeem the present situation. That is at times a true martyrdom for him who sees close up the wounds and the difficulty of the cure.”17 This passage admirably illustrates the patience and forbearance with which the emperor handled both politicians and issues. Criticism, obstruction, and incompetence he treated with notable tolerance and restraint. Pedro II was in practice slow to take offense and just as slow to pass judgment on others. “Time and again what those around me consider to be a fault worthy of condemnation is not so for me.”18 When he decided to employ his powers against individuals, it was the fruit of long consideration and due inquiry. This care and caution rendered such decisions, when he did take them, all the more effective. What made Pedro II so capable as a ruler was his tenacity of purpose and his quiet, almost covert persistence in holding to his objectives, which allowed him to await the suitable moment for putting them into effect. In September  Pedro II saw and seized the opportunity to carry out what he described to his brother-in-law as “my program.” The incoming cabinet possessed the ability, dedication, and political capital required for a new departure in the country’s affairs. In a set of written instructions to the marquis of Paraná, the emperor specified how the concepts of conciliação e melhoramentos were to be implemented, and he laid down what the ministers’ relationship with him must be. After discussing in turn the measures to be taken by each ministry, the instructions stated, under the rubric “General Ideas”: Any minister who uses my name as an excuse will be dismissed. Nothing which takes place in despacho [business meetings of the ministers with the emperor] will be made public, nor will decrees be drawn up before a decision is taken in council, except in the first case when it has been agreed to do so and in the second when the matter does not permit delay. All decisions which are not routine will be made in despacho; however, the President of the Council or the respective ministers may individually deal with me about any matter. Nominations for political posts, or those which may wield political influence, will go to [Conservative] party supporters, and I will simply reject or

  

   , ‒ accept them. In all other [posts] the latter can receive them only when no one else is superior.19

The final paragraph reveals Pedro II’s ambivalent attitude toward political parties. He always maintained that he was not hostile to parties as such. “I belong to none of the parties so that they all may support our institutions,” he wrote at the end of . “I merely moderate them, as the circumstances permit, and I even judge them to be indispensable for the regular working of the constitutional system when they, as true parties and not as factions, respect what is just.” “Justice ought to be the norm for the true parties,” he observed on another occasion. “Without them the system of government we possess cannot really exist.”20 In practice Pedro II’s attitude toward political parties, as virtually every reference in his  diary reveals, was critical or openly hostile. He even wrote: “My policy—that of justice—is not that of the parties.”21 In terms of ideology and policies very little did distinguish the Conservative and Liberal parties. Any commitment to principle tended to vanish as soon as either party secured office. Being basically loose alliances of provincial factions avid for the rewards of power, the two parties paid little attention to good government or to the country’s development. The Paraná cabinet’s commitment to purge Brazilian politics of their more partisan and sordid aspects was one reason for the emperor’s strong backing of the Conciliação experiment. Pedro II’s political goals may have been laudable and high-minded, but his dislike of organized parties was far from altruistic. The parties served as a principal conduit between the national politicians and the dominant socioeconomic interests in the different parts of Brazil. Patronage and the dispensing of favors enabled politicians, as Pedro II acknowledged, to build up a following, to consolidate support, and to advance their careers. Local and provincial interests in turn received tangible rewards for their support of the national politicians. Abolition of organized parties would destroy that two-way exchange and would deprive the politicians of an autonomous power base. They would be far less able, in consequence, to withdraw cooperation and support from the emperor. “The lack of organized parties works in my favor,” Pedro II was told in  by the marquis of Caxias.22 Few doubts about the desirability of implementing conciliação troubled Brazilians in . The marquis of Paraná had, ten years before, proven his willingness and capacity to stand up to the emperor. Pedro II’s desire to atone for his conduct in  made him very respectful of Paraná’s autonomy.23 In any case, it was not a time for doubts but for heady optimism. Brazil’s economy was expanding rapidly, with agricultural products selling briskly abroad and large quantities of capital waiting to be invested. A willingness, even an eagerness, to break with the ways of the past was widespread. Paraná possessed both the char-

  

   , ‒ acter and the authority to do so and to introduce conciliação e melhoramentos. Swelling revenues emboldened the government in its plans to construct railroad lines, to build electric telegraph lines, to sponsor new steamship lines, to subsidize European immigration, to expand education, and to make administration more efficient. In the political sphere, Paraná intended to break down factionalism. The partisan press would be bought out. Posts would go to those who supported the cabinet regardless of their past political allegiance. The abundant resources at the ministry’s command meant that causes for conflict and discontent could be systematically eliminated.24 The Paraná cabinet soon discovered that the ideals of conciliação e melhoramentos were easier to proclaim than to achieve. The program of “material improvements” required unprecedented inputs of capital, labor, and technology. Railroad construction proved complex and expensive beyond expectation. European emigrants could not be easily persuaded to select Brazil over North America. The government bureaucracy lacked the size, training, and zeal to undertake such a vast program of change. The solution, eventually found, was to create a new ministry, that of Agriculture, Commerce, and Public Works, to handle this sphere of government action.25 In terms of politics and administration, the Conciliação cabinet found that its proposed reforms disturbed established practices and impinged on traditional interests. Elements in the Conservative party that had profited from factional politics resisted change and proved difficult to displace. Unable to develop a strong ideological justification for its handling of politics, the cabinet invited accusations that its sole policy was to purchase support with posts and payoffs.26 The marquis of Paraná possessed the resilience and the resourcefulness to overcome difficulties and survive setbacks. In June  he reconstructed the cabinet, bringing in the marquis of Caxias as minister of war. Paraná then seized the political offensive. He secured passage of an electoral law that established single-member constituencies in place of provincewide elections. The measure undercut his political opponents entrenched at the national level and made possible an alliance between the ministry and political interests in the localities. Then, on the eve of the first elections to be held under the new system, the president of the Council of Ministers fell sick, dying on September , . “The most important news is the death of Paraná,” Pedro II informed his brother-in-law. “The politics which I judge currently most useful for the country has lost its principal support; and perhaps I will have to intervene more directly in public affairs, since I can see no one else possessed of the energy with which the late marquis was endowed and joined to it uncommon talents even if they were unpolished.”27 How strongly Pedro II backed the conciliação experiment was apparent from

  

   , ‒ his admission that Paraná’s death might force him “to intervene more directly in public affairs.” Until that moment, he had eschewed taking a visible role in the conduct of government. In his instructions to the Conciliação ministry, he had written, “Any minister who uses my name as an excuse will be dismissed.” The emperor’s avoidance of the limelight caused politicians to refer to him as “Alguém” [“Someone”], an anonymous but omnipresent figure. The name was apt, since the externals and trappings of power meant little to Pedro II. He had no love of pomp or circumstance nor was he in thrall to the emoluments of his post. He did not seek or value wealth, his style of life being plain to the point of severity. “I care little for anything I do not deem truly useful, e.g. etiquette, certain comforts, items of luxury, at least those which in my opinion are so,” he wrote in his  diary.28 In truth, what Pedro II desired was the essence, not the appearances, of power. Above all, he sought to control. The deep trauma of his grim childhood and his troubled adolescence made him dread being under tutelage, being subordinate and dependent on others. Loss of control in his experience meant being manipulated and exploited. The intensity of Pedro II’s desire for control was masked by his avoidance of the limelight, his unfailing self-discipline and discretion, and his courteous manners. These qualities, combined with the emperor’s innate conservatism, his pedantry, and his penchant for detail, make it easy to underestimate the man, the extent of his authority, and the scope of his achievements. Pedro II throughout his reign tended to equate both the imperial regime and the country with himself. As Joaquim Nabuco commented soon after Pedro II’s death, the emperor “did not recognize, unless compelled to do so, positions [of power] independent of his creation or, at least, of his placet [approval].”29 Pedro II used his control of affairs for the purpose of, as Nabuco observed, “conserving and improving” society, not remaking it. He possessed a notable “skill for making difficulties resolve themselves by themselves without aggravating them.”30 In other words, Pedro II’s concern lay less in promoting policies he favored than in preventing the politicians from pursuing policies that he deemed undesirable. The politicians proposed, the emperor disposed. This restrained, cautious approach to ruling Brazil accorded with Pedro II’s determination not to overstep or to abuse the prerogatives he held as monarch. “I have sworn the Constitution,” the emperor noted in his  diary, “but even if I had not done so it would be for me a second religion.”31 The structures of rule established by the  constitution worked in Pedro II’s favor as he sought to control and to dispose. The emperor was head of the regulating, executive, and legislative powers. The fourth power, the judicial, played a subordinate role in public affairs. The Supreme Tribunal of Justice served neither as guardian nor as interpreter of the constitution.32 Of the three powers he headed, the emperor’s prerogatives were

  

   , ‒ limited only in respect to the legislative. Articles  to  of the constitution gave him the right to veto laws. Pedro II, who avoided confrontation and controversy, never had reason to use this power, and it is doubtful whether in practice he could ever have done so during his reign.33 As head of the regulating power [poder moderador], Pedro II could select senators from a list of three candidates chosen by popular election, summon the legislature into special session, sanction laws, dissolve the Chamber of Deputies, nominate and dismiss ministers, suspend judges, grant pardons and reduce punishments, and issue amnesties. The constitution exempted the emperor from all accountability in respect to his use of the poder moderador. Decrees issued under the regulating power had to be countersigned by a cabinet minister, but no minister could block a decree he did not approve of by refusing his signature. “The acts of the regulating power do not involve [for the ministers signing them] any legal responsibility,” the emperor commented in December , “but, since they [the acts] at times need defending, the ministers who feel that they cannot do so have the right to resign.”34 Pedro II was, and saw himself as being, under no constitutional obligation to heed the cabinet’s advice or preferences when using the regulating power. He acknowledged no one’s right to block his use of the power. In a face-off the minister or ministers would have to resign, not he to give way. Such a face-off was unlikely because it was the emperor who, as head of the regulating power, nominated and dismissed the ministers. This power was not decreased by the decree of July , , which created the presidency of the Council of Ministers. Pedro II adjusted his handling of the political system to accommodate the new post. When a sitting cabinet resigned, the outgoing president of the council would usually suggest one or more names as his successor to the emperor, who was under no obligation to accept the suggestion.35 Pedro II could summon any politician he chose to form a cabinet, provided his choice possessed sufficient prestige and experience to form a ministry that, when presented to the legislature, could secure a vote of confidence from both Senate and Chamber of Deputies. The politician entrusted with the task of forming a cabinet presented to the emperor a list of proposed ministers. Using his rights as head of the regulating power, Pedro II could and did veto those names on the list that he felt were inappropriate.36 He might also suggest names of possible ministers, but he took care not to impose anyone. A cabinet that forfeited the emperor’s confidence could not long survive. “My sole desire is that the constitution and the laws be implemented,” Pedro II wrote on May , , “and for me there exist only two sorts of men, those who want to cooperate conscientiously with me for the country’s good and those who do not so behave.”37 The emperor was endlessly patient and long-suffering,

  

   , ‒ but in the last resort he was not willing to compromise on what he held his relationship with the politicians to be. He was determined to rule, within the terms of the constitution, as he deemed best. If his insistence on his rights put his throne at risk, he would accept that consequence. Indirectly, but in a very definite fashion, he was informing the political community that, as far as he was concerned, “do it my way” or not at all. In October , commenting on a biography of him that indirectly criticized “my failure to look after the Conservatives since I have nothing to fear from them,” he burst out in protest: What sort of fear could I have? That they take the government from me? Many better kings than I have lost it, and to me it is no more than the weight of a cross which it is my duty to carry. I want to serve my country, but who knows if I could not serve it better in some other capacity? In any case, I will never cease to fulfill my duties as a Brazilian citizen.38

Little likelihood existed that the emperor would be forced, as his father had been, to choose abdication over submission to the politicians. Pedro II was skilled at avoiding confrontations, which he did not like. In the last resort, if forced to do so, he could employ his rights under the poder moderador to dismiss the cabinet making the intolerable demands, name a new, more acceptable ministry, and grant it a dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies. To follow this course, Pedro II needed to find a president and Council of Ministers who possessed political standing and the willingness to use all means available to win the ensuing elections. From the time of the emperor’s majority in , any cabinet presiding over elections to the Chamber of Deputies had to be supremely incompetent if it failed to secure a large majority of seats. Pedro II fully appreciated this flaw in the political system. “Our principal political need is the freedom of elections. Without this freedom and that of the press there exists in reality no constitutional system, and the ministry which abuses this principle or allows it to be abused is the greatest enemy of the State and the monarchy.”39 The means employed—force, fraud, and bribery—were as deplorable as they were effective. By the very nature of the political system, in which aspiring politicians built up networks of support by handing out government largesse, fixing elections was a temptation virtually impossible for any politician, no matter how high minded, to resist. Their collective weakness placed the politicians at a fatal disadvantage in their relationship with the emperor. They could not in good conscience claim to express the true will of the Brazilian people and to be backed by public opinion. They lacked the basis of authority to confront the monarch. Pedro II sincerely deplored the falsity of the electoral process and urged its reform, yet its very corruption worked to ensure his dominance, as he conceded in 7: “The main basis for the accusation of imperial rule [imperalismo] arises

  

   , ‒ from the way in which elections are conducted, and most of the ministers at election time have participated in that.”40 He could thus justify perceiving his own position as superior to that of the politicians and his own interpretation of what the public wanted as being preferable to theirs. The instructions given in  to his daughter, D. Isabel, to guide her as regent during his absence abroad stated: The political system of Brazil is founded on public opinion which, in many cases, is not that manifested by the opinion which calls itself public. The emperor must constantly study the former in order to obey it. A difficult study, in fact, by reason of the way in which elections are conducted.41

In the years of midcentury, the politicians not only lacked the authority to challenge the emperor’s supremacy but also had no desire to do so. Of the nine men who served as president of the council between October  and September , two were former regents, the marquis of Olinda and the marquis of Mont’Alegre. The marquis of Paraná, the viscount of Abaeté, and José Joaquim Rodrigues Torres (later viscount of Itaboraí) were political veterans who had served more than once as minister during the s. Experience had taught these five men to regard the emperor as indispensable to Brazil’s continued peace and prosperity. As for the marquis of Caxias, who had made his career suppressing revolts against the regime, Pedro II’s comment in December  speaks for itself: “I believe Caxias to be loyal and my friend especially because he is so little a politician.”42 The final three men to serve as president of the council between  and  belonged to a new generation of politicians, those trained at Brazil’s own faculties of law and medicine. The most experienced was Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos, who had served briefly as a minister in – and was a senator when he formed a cabinet in . Ângelo Moniz da Silva Ferraz and Francisco José Furtado were both deputies without previous cabinet experience when Pedro II named them to office in  and , respectively. The last desire of these three, on forming a cabinet, was to alienate the emperor and put at risk the authority that his backing gave the ministry. Joaquim Nabuco, himself a veteran politician, expressed this reality with a brutal clarity: “To oppose him, his plans, his political views, was to renounce power. A single minister might have been ready to leave the government soon after its formation; the cabinet, however, held on and the [political] party forced on it compliance with the imperial will due to a love for place, for patronage.”43 Several other factors strengthened Pedro II in his relationship to the politicians. In addition to selecting new members of the Senate from an elected short list of three, and to naming the ministers, he also appointed the members of the Council of State created by the law of November , . The purpose of the

  

   , ‒

Figure . Luís Alves de Lima, duke of Caxias, general, senator, and three times president of the Council of Ministers

council, which worked mainly through its four committees, was to offer its advice “on conflicts of jurisdiction between administrative authorities and between these and the judiciary” and “on decrees, regulations, and instructions issued for the proper enforcement of laws, and on the bills that the executive power may submit to the general assembly.”44 Pedro II advised his daughter in  that “the council of state should be composed of individuals drawn from both the constitutional parties, that is, those respecting our system of government, and they should be honest, of considerable intellectual capacity, and knowledgeable of public affairs.”45 In other words, the men appointed shared the emperor’s outlook and views. While a considerable degree of overlap existed in the membership of the cabinet, Senate, and Council of State, the last two bodies possessed a strong sense of independence and of separate identity. In contrast to the Council of Ministers, appointments to them were for life. Neither the Council of State nor the Senate were swift in their transaction of business, and they strongly resented attempts to force them into action. Should the cabinet attempt to adopt a policy or a measure of which the emperor did not approve, he could prevent action by

  

   , ‒ requiring that the question be referred to the Council of State, which, when it eventually came to render its opinion, was more likely to concur with him than with the cabinet. Similarly, any bill under discussion in the Senate which the emperor did not favor had poor prospects of passage, in part because the senators greatly respected his judgment and in part because their attitudes were in general so similar to his own. Ambition and self-interest also played their part, as Joaquim Nabuco pointed out: “To break with him for any length of time was impossible in politics. The Senate, the Council of State lived by his favor and through his grace. No chief wished to be incompatible.”46 The single institution over which Pedro II did not exert direct or indirect control was the Chamber of Deputies. Its size, over one hundred strong, its closeness to the provincial and local interests that elected it, and the shortness of its four-year term made it independent and intractable. Most legislation was initiated in the lower house, and rare was the cabinet that commanded a sufficiently disciplined and dependable majority there to ensure passage of its legislative program. Unwillingness to face an unfriendly legislature caused the resignation of several cabinets during Pedro II’s reign. A few others were brought down by defeats in the lower house. The Chamber of Deputies constituted the real check on Pedro II’s management of the political system, but, given the emperor’s unilateral right under the poder moderador to dissolve it, the lower house could not challenge his authority or take the initiative in governing Brazil. Only the cabinet, the least independent of the four bodies, shared with the emperor the task of governing. Pedro II appreciated that the cabinet must have credibility. “I consider repeated changes of ministers most prejudicial to the service of the Nation,” he noted in December . A month later he added that “the post of minister is one of sacrifice, but what glory accrues to him who serves in it with zeal!”47 The emperor accepted the principle of collective cabinet responsibility. As head of the executive power, he sought to ensure that the ministries did present and pursue a known program. When a cabinet was formed, the emperor discussed with president of the council the policies to be adopted. Once agreement had been reached, Pedro II would draw up a set of “instructions,” outlining the agreed program and his observations on it, which he then sent to the new president of the council. The practice, initiated at least as early as September  with the Paraná ministry, marked out the limits of what the incoming cabinet could do in terms of policy.48 To transgress those limits put the ministers at risk of forfeiting the emperor’s confidence. Pedro II did not reciprocally view his written statement as restricting his own right to urge other measures on the cabinet. As head of the executive power, the emperor could have left the cabinet to its own devices, intervening only on critical matters or to ensure the fulfillment of

  

   , ‒ the agreed program. Pedro II perceived his role quite differently. “I judge that the head of the executive power, in order to direct the use of that power, has the right to watch actively over the conduct of the ministry, in particular to ensure the implementation of the political program which caused the head of the regulating power to appoint the ministers.”49 When “the head of the executive power” and the ministers disagreed on the conduct of government business, the former might well “give way due to his being persuaded to do so or as a matter of justified convenience.” On the other hand, the emperor stressed, “the honor of the ministers obliges them to oppose the opinions of the head of the executive power and to resign from the cabinet when conscience does not permit them to yield.”50 Pedro II could enforce his right to exercise close oversight on the ministers because virtually every act of the national government, no matter how minor, had to be signed by the emperor in order to take effect. The royal signature was a practice sanctified by tradition, a holdover from the Portuguese monarchy. In accord with established custom, Pedro II conducted government by means of face-to-face meetings with ministers, politicians, and the general public—and also, to a much lesser degree, through notes and memoranda. The key to his system was the despacho [business meeting], held twice a week, on Wednesday and Saturday evenings. During the despacho, which might run for four hours or more, the ministers discussed with the emperor all matters currently needing resolution and presented to him for final approval and signature the business already discussed and decided upon. Usually a day or two prior to each despacho the ministers held a separate cabinet meeting [conferência] by themselves. However, these reunions took place no more than twice a week and discussed only the most important matters.51 Since each cabinet member was concerned to establish and expand his own power base, he tried to prevent his colleagues from interfering with the business of his ministry. At the twice-weekly despacho the business of each ministry was taken in turn. The emperor would pay close attention to the presentations, often sketching leaf patterns on a sheet of paper while he listened (Figure ).52 No proposal, however peripheral, escaped his attention. His remarkable memory meant that he could recall with ease most of what he had read, no matter how long ago. He was equally skilled in remembering names, faces, and conversations. In consequence, Pedro II was usually far better briefed and far more authoritative than any member of the cabinet. The ministers even at times turned to him for information about decisions they themselves had made.53 In the despachos Pedro II was particularly concerned about appointments to government positions. “In regard to the opinion that the monarch forms of individuals, the utmost caution is hardly enough.”54 “Administration depends above

  

   , ‒ all on the nomination of honest and capable employees for positions,” Pedro II advised his daughter in . “It is necessary to know the individuals, the which is very difficult, and not to rush into giving approval.”55 Pedro II’s  diary attests to the caution with which he granted his consent and reveals his sense of justification when a ministerial appointment had to be revoked, after he had signed it, because of the belated discovery of unfavorable information about the nominee.56 “One should not propose individuals to the ministers for posts or honors except in very special circumstances involving major public benefit,” Pedro II recommended to his daughter in . “However, one ought, when the public good requires it, to oppose, but in the manner I have already advised, the proposal of any person by the ministers, making a frank presentation of the reasons against him.”57 Under article  of the  constitution, the grant of “titles, honors, military orders, and distinctions” belonged to the executive power. Pedro II did not regard with much favor the honors system established by his father, suspended during the regency, and revived on his own accession.58 To him the bestowal of titles and honors was simply another aspect of a patronage system he distrusted. “Recently it was necessary to cancel honors to two individuals about whom I had received unfavorable information after the grant, and the minister agreed with me,” the emperor noted in January .59 Pedro II did not favor the traditional system of issuing a long honors list on his own birthday, December , and that of the empress, March . Writing to his brother-in-law, Fernando of Portugal, on March , , he complained: “I then had my three hours of disagreeable work reviewing and remembering the names of those to be honored, the source of thousands of discontents of the part of both these and others.”60 From the start of his reign the emperor preferred that honors be granted in ones and twos throughout the year, rewarding those whose services or gifts for public purposes merited recognition.61 “Provided that the minister is vigilant, I don’t see any reason for denying honors to those who make donations to the public benefit from their wealth gained by work which should have been honest.”62 In this matter, as in others, Pedro II lacked the imagination and the self-interest to use his powers to entrench the monarchy in Brazil. Pedro II’s rigorous vetting in the despachos of proposed appointments and honors could be justified on the grounds that his actions did to a certain degree prevent the misuse of the patronage system and hold in check the creation of ministerial clienteles. Far more controversial was his handling in the despachos of questions of policy formation and drafts of proposed legislation. As the emperor’s diary for  shows, he would not allow the ministers first to debate and resolve these matters between themselves in conferência and then to present their collective decision for his approval at the next despacho. “I have always insisted on

  

   , ‒

Figure . Pencil sketch made by Pedro II while listening to the ministers presenting their business in the weekly despacho [business meeting]

the ministers holding conferências,” he noted in , but he also insisted that any question discussed in cabinet meetings must be considered afresh in his presence and resolved with his full participation in the debate.63 Pedro II defended his practice on several grounds. To give up it, he wrote in his diary in February , responding to a newspaper’s criticism, would be “to abandon my supreme inspection as head of the executive power and to reduce myself to the role of being no more than the occupant of a sinecure. That a constitutional monarch cannot be, as [François] Guizot [the French statesman] aptly observed in his memoirs.”64 The practice requiring every matter to be debated anew and decided with his participation had its drawbacks, as Pedro II admitted. Discussing issues twice consumed large quantities of time, and the emperor tended to become entangled in detail. “I must try more and more to restrict myself to saying only the essential, so that they won’t have even the shadow of a pretext for complaining that I am taking up their time.”65 In the last analysis, the emperor believed that any problems stemmed not from his own misconduct but from that of the ministers. I would like to be able to ask those from both parties who have served as min-

  

   , ‒ isters whether I try to impose my opinion or whether I simply express it with the conviction of a conscientious worker. I grant that many have given way to me due to weakness, but what blame do I bear for this, and moreover, to avoid this, do not I strive ever more strongly to allow them entire liberty?66

Meeting four days later with the marquis of Caxias, then president of the council, Pedro II “spoke to him about my treatment of the ministers, and he admitted that they are at times fearful of contradicting me, even though they later complain of my opposition [to what they desired].”67 It did not require much contact with the emperor for the ministers to learn how to recognize the emperor’s preferences from his body language. In May  the French envoy, who had weekly meetings with Pedro II, commented: I have discovered, above all when the emperor does not share my opinion, that he gives me a certain sideways look, which is of a truly Castilian pride and coldness and which recalls the House of Austria from which he is descended. At such moments he has an astonishing resemblance to Philip III as painted by Velázquez.68

The ministers were at an essential disadvantage in the despacho. Few of them could match the emperor’s long experience of governing, his superior sources of knowledge, and his tenacity of purpose. In presenting their views all were inhibited by the deference that the emperor’s rank inspired. A minister “will not refute the bad arguments of the king as he will refute another’s bad argument,” Walter Bagehot’s English Constitution shrewdly observed. “To a nearly balanced argument the king must always have the better, and in politics many most important arguments are nearly balanced.”69 When discussing items of business in despacho Pedro II usually preferred not to take the initiative or to make plain his preferences. Rather, he would present cogent reasons against the courses of action or the candidates he did not favor. The end result was often to ensure that the outcome he preferred was proposed by the minister responsible. On matters which he did consider of first importance, the emperor would show his hand. On the comparatively rare occasions when Pedro II found the ministers agreed on a measure or appointment he did not favor, he yielded but declared, “All right, the responsibility is yours, gentlemen; I have now done my duty.” The ministers’ desire to retain the emperor’s goodwill, their sense of deference, and their dependence upon him at times persuaded them not to persist in their decision. In effect, they submitted to what can only be termed a genteel form of blackmail.70 Even if defeated on a first discussion of the question, the emperor’s tenacity of will—what may be termed his obstinacy—meant that he did quietly persist, awaiting the opportunity to secure the decision he favored. No better example

  

   , ‒ exists than the establishment of an official government newspaper. “The editorials of the [Correio] Mercantil and of the Diário [do Rio de Janeiro] cause me to make the following points,” Pedro II wrote in his diary on January , . I always seek to have questions decided by a majority of the ministers, whose reasoned opinions I seek out when it is required for greater clarity on the subject, and just a few days ago it was decided by a majority of  against my opinion and that of [the marquis of] Caxias, [José Ildefonso de Sousa] Ramos and [Francisco de Paula de Negreiros] Saião Lobato that no official newspaper is to be created.71

When he wrote, Pedro II was indubitably sincere in believing that his defeat on this question demonstrated that he did not dominate government affairs. He did not reckon, however, with his own tenacity of purpose. Between February and May he took up the question of founding an official paper with the ministry on seven different occasions. On June , with a new cabinet installed in office, the emperor noted in his diary: “I believe the official paper will be created this time.” He had to overcome some further delays and difficulties, but the first number of O Diário Oficial finally made its appearance on October , .72 The paper became a permanent, if not much read, part of official life. The system for handling government business through the despacho was one that Pedro II inherited and, given his innate conservatism and his desire to retain control, it was not a system he was likely to change. On their side, the ministers had good cause to find the despachos a drawn-out ordeal, particularly so if the president of the council had no capacity for managing the emperor. The ministers constantly tried to limit to one a week the business meetings with the entire cabinet. At the second despacho only a single minister would appear to transact all current business with the emperor. Over the years Pedro II had to yield and consent to this practice.73 Dislike of the despacho also made the ministers chary of proposing any initiative or drafting any legislation likely to excite the emperor’s opposition.74 His  diary entries do not reveal the least sense that responsibility for the cabinet’s lack of action might in part be his. The most serious flaw in Pedro II’s handling of the despacho system of governing lay in the erosion of cabinet solidarity and of the ministers’ sense of collective responsibility. He became skilled in uncovering points on which individual ministers disagreed and then exploiting these disagreements to maintain his control of affairs. In July , for example, he used a conflict over a minor issue between the president of the council and the minister of finance to drive home this point. “I recommended that as often as these questions arise they don’t let them drag on but bring them to me so that I can in most of the cases perhaps resolve them.”75

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   , ‒ In a biography of Francisco José Furtado, published shortly after he had served as president of the Council of Ministers in –, the author made plain the drawbacks of the situation: The cabinet, when it meets in the imperial despacho, almost never expresses its collective will. The holders of the different portfolios having presented their business, the head of the executive power [Pedro II], even though he knows that no minister will fail in loyalty to his colleagues by bringing for Imperial signature proposals not already approved in conferência by at least a majority of the cabinet, raises objections and provokes discussion, at times on very minor subjects. This contributes to the fact that cabinets never possess unity and entire homogeneity of thought in the august presence of the monarch.76

The indignant response that Pedro II scrawled, on reading this passage, in the margin of his copy of the biography reveals a failure to understand the nature of this complaint: So I must not say what I think?! The ministers only discuss things with me to the extent that they wish, and if my comments touch on very minor subjects, what importance in that case do the disagreements between the ministers have? If the same sincerity with which I act exists on the ministers’ side, no harm will result from these discussions.77

The ministers’ unequal relationship with the emperor and the lack of autonomy they enjoyed did arouse resentment in some politicians. Comments such as “no one of standing can serve twice as minister of the emperor” were already circulating by the late s.78 Such resentments were, however, far from universal, nor were they long lasting. The passage of time and the attractions of office worked their emollient effect. The emperor was singularly understanding and forgiving about such complaints, which “don’t offend me, since I know what the human heart is, particularly that of the politicians.”79 Pedro II’s refusal to take offense, his courtesy and consideration, and his restraint made him difficult to resent or to resist. The politicians as a group were willing to let supreme direction of affairs rest with the emperor. As Joaquim Nabuco commented, “Government was conducted by all in this sense:—what is it that the emperor wants, what is it that he does not want? Those whose politics disregarded these rules were doomed to have no success.”80 Supreme direction did not mean one-man rule. The emperor’s lack of activism, his respect for the constitution, and his dislike of confrontation precluded such a role, as did his appreciation of the necessity of securing the politicians’ cooperation, without which government was not possible. The politicians

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   , ‒ were not ciphers. They did hold the initiative in proposing measures and appointments. They could and did maneuver, resist, and delay. Pedro II could not be certain of achieving what he wanted. He had at times to give way on appointments and policies. A passage written in his diary on January , , stated the emperor’s position with precision and truth: Many things cause me disgust; but I cannot rapidly remedy them and this profoundly upsets me. If at least I could state openly what I think! But to what end, when so few appreciate the difficulties I face when trying to achieve what I judge right! For a conscientious sovereign it is a veritable torture of Tantalus perceiving where good lies and not being able to achieve it save gradually, his personal efforts often being thwarted. However, persistence is essential if the ruler’s influence is to produce without upsets—always undesirable—its evenhanded effects.81

Pedro II may have achieved no sweeping reforms, no fundamental restructuring of Brazilian society, but his influence, exerted quietly over time on the country’s political culture in respect to ideas and practice, was considerable, as the case of the death penalty shows. Capital punishment was an integral part of the Portuguese penal system, and the constitution of  retained it. Public executions by hanging were part of the fabric of life. On January , , Pedro II wrote in his diary: I am not a supporter of capital punishment, but conditions in our society still make it necessary, and it exists in law. However, employing of the prerogatives of the regulating power, I commute death sentences, whenever the circumstances of the case justify so doing it. For the better implementation of this idea, petitions for clemency are always referred to the committee on justice of the council of state, its opinion being sought on this point. The idea of consulting the committee was mine.82

As was typical of Pedro II, this observation misled as much as it revealed. A second diary entry, written on June , , shows what the emperor’s goal had been: This reminds of what I have done for the abolition of the death penalty by law, rather than in practice, since I achieved that some  years ago through always commuting the penalty.83

Capital punishment thus faded away during the course of Pedro II’s reign. By his stealth and persistence, he succeeded in making the death penalty unacceptable as a weapon of state policy. It was an achievement that has endured to this day. If Pedro II’s system of rule rested in large part upon his tenacity and upon his

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   , ‒ ability to retain control over politics, it also depended upon the care he took to keep in touch with public opinion in Brazil. The emperor achieved these goals through several means. The first was to hold late on Tuesday and on Saturday afternoons a public audience lasting two hours. “Tuesday [afternoon] is taken up with the audience during which more people come to see me,” Pedro II explained in .84 The public audience was a long-established custom of the European monarchies wherein it was considered proper for men and women of social standing to attend court on important festivals such as the New Year and the royal birthday in order to compliment the monarch and at other times simply to assert their status. In the expressive phrase of John Beattie, an expert on the court of King George I, “attendance there helped to distinguish the ‘ins’ from the ‘outs’ in the social as well as political sense.”85 In the s the imperial audiences still retained something of this role in Brazil, but they had come to serve a far broader purpose. Anyone, male or female, who was decently dressed could gain admittance. “At  in the evening I reached S. Cristóvão [palace],” a diarist wrote on a Saturday in May . “When I entered the emperor was listening to a vast number of poor women who surrounded him. His left hand was filled with petitions. He beckoned to me to approach. He asked me what I wanted.”86 As this passage suggests, in the audiences Pedro II spent much time listening to appeals for his help, both in terms of charitable gifts and his intervention on the petitioner’s behalf. From his civil list (annual government grant) Pedro II made gifts of money generously and with little discrimination. A high proportion of the people at the twice-weekly audiences were seeking redress of grievances, requesting favors, or trying to gain advantage by offering information. To all those who approached him, Pedro II gave a full and courteous hearing. His technique of handling complaints and grievances can be deduced from an account written by a judge who came to protest the government’s decision to remove him from his post on the Rio de Janeiro commercial court: On 22 of March I went to the palace. On seeing me the emperor said: “Sr. Barbosa, I was expecting your visit. I have looked at your papers and brought them here.” I replied: “Y. M. emboldens me to make a respectful request.” The emperor: “What is it?” I: “What did Y. M. conclude?” He, stroking his beard: “I concluded that your documents show good services, principally in politics.” I: “But, Sire, what reputation does an individual who presents such documents deserve? As of yesterday, obviously, because as from yesterday it would

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   , ‒ be proper for the minister of justice to lay a formal charge so that I may know what I have to defend myself against.” He: “On that point I can say nothing.” I: “Then I have achieved nothing. I desired no more than Y. M.’s opinion, because I already have that of men of standing, and that of the ministers is for me without value. So, once the chambers meet, I will have recourse to the press.” He: “You do well.” (N.B. It was this that the emperor was wanting.) I: “But Y. M. must realize that I shall have to be harsh because the offense against me was atrocious.” He: “You are within your rights.” And, on my presenting my respects before leaving, His Majesty said to me: “Wait a moment so that I can have your papers returned to you.”87

In this case the emperor used the audiência to understand the nature of a complaint, to moderate the aggrieved’s anger, and to direct his protest into the public arena where it could be debated. For the emperor, the public audiences possessed considerable advantages. Since those who attended had to present their case to Pedro II in the hearing of others, they were forced to be both discrete and moderate in speech. The large number of supplicants who were usually present encouraged brevity and gave the emperor an excellent cause for terminating any interview. As one petitioner reported in , “It being already late and a large number of people, including deputies, senators, etc., still wanting to talk to him, and observing that he desired to avoid any further discussion, I offered my respects and withdrew.”88 Pedro II did not restrict his contact with the public to the formal audiences held on Tuesdays and Saturdays. He advised D. Isabel in 1: “If possible, you my daughter should receive claimants or those who come to talk about public affairs at any hour which is not inconvenient or is not devoted to some other more urgent public service.”89 A diary letter from November  records the emperor’s practice of speaking most days of the week to petitioners gathered on the internal verandah of São Cristóvão palace.90 Pedro II gave these men and women the same careful attention he bestowed in the more formal audiences. There exists no better testimony than the account written in old age by the man who would in the s serve as tutor to the emperor’s grandsons: I saw the emperor for the first time early in , when I was eight and a half years old. My good grandmother then took me to the quinta of São Cristóvão to petition D. Pedro II for my admission to the Colégio Pedro II as a scholarship student, in view of our state of penury. The emperor, who each day received with no restrictions and with friend-

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   , ‒ liness and good sense everybody on the internal verandah of the palace, heard the petition and replied: “But has this boy already completed his primary schooling?” “He has already done that, Sire,” my grandmother replied. “He already holds the certificate from the Colégio Amante da Instrução where he studied.” “But is he really ready?” “I have no doubt about it, because his teacher, Sr. Inocêncio Drumond, has begun to teach him privately the rudiments of French and Latin.” “That’s all right, that’s all right,” the emperor concluded. “Bring me the papers, and I will pass them on to the minister.” And he gave me some caresses which I have never forgotten.

The emperor secured the desired place for the boy. Thirteen years later, when the young man was orator for the graduating class at the Rio School of Medicine, Pedro II, who presided at the graduation, recognized him and inquired: “Your grandmother, I suppose, is no longer alive.” “She is already dead, Sire.” “How happy she would have been to have witnessed this ceremony!” As the writer remarked: “Understandably, these words touched my heart and for that reason I have never forgotten them.”91 The emperor did not depend solely on people coming to São Cristóvão in order to sound out public opinion and to remedy grievances. His frequent sorties outside of his palaces to inspect public institutions of all types facilitated meeting individuals and hearing their stories. During these outings, “the emperor was interested in everything and knew how to inquire and to observe,” recalled a former minister who accompanied Pedro II on an official visit to the province of Minas Gerais in .92 The emperor fully understood the importance of obtaining multiple sources of information about any issue on which he as ruler might be involved. Pedro II rarely or never made speeches at public functions, and certainly never on any controversial subject. When receiving deputations, holding the public audiences, and talking to individual petitioners, Pedro II was careful with his words and guarded in his opinions. “Don’t say anything which indicates your opinion, or promise support beyond that of ensuring justice,” he advised his daughter.93 At times he would even profess ignorance on a subject about which he was informed but which he did not wish to discuss.94 It was not always easy for the emperor to maintain the reticence and solemnity he favored, as an anonymous account dating from about  shows. Speech given by Francisco Gomes de Campos when he came to express his thanks [to the emperor] for his barony.

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   , ‒ “Sire, I was far from worthy to receive the great honor which Your Majesty was pleased to bestow on me; as to my humble services, it is true that I have them, but that they should be given such value I can find no other motive than the magnanimity of the magnanimous heart of the best of monarchs.” At this point the emperor twisted his lip with the ghost of a smile and the gentleman usher João Paulo remarked, “Magnanimity of the magnanimous, what a terrible redundancy.”95

The emperor might have profited if he had allowed himself a smile on this occasion. His ability to be cordial without committing himself to anything often raised hopes which, when unfulfilled, left petitioners feeling aggrieved and led to accusations of dissimulation. “I am not duplicitous and I only strive not to say more than is necessary,” he angrily wrote in his diary, “and if people are misled at times by my words it is not because I try to fool them, but because they interpret my actions badly.”96 In fact, the emperor developed certain patterns of behavior which to the knowledgeable provided a clear signal as to what his opinion on a subject really was. If he told a petitioner to take up his or her request or complaint with the relevant minister, it usually indicated that Pedro II was not convinced that justice was on the petitioner’s side.97 In the case of vacancies to the Senate, if the emperor discussed with a candidate his chances for election to the short list of three, from which Pedro II selected the new senator, then that candidate was likely to be chosen, if elected to the short list. If no such discussion occurred, the politician knew that his candidacy was not well viewed by Pedro II.98 It was habits such as these which gave the members of the emperor’s inner circle their importance, since they could often divine which way his mind was moving and pass on that information to outsiders, receiving favors in return. The emperor did not depend only upon interviews and encounters for his information. His voracious appetite for print consumed not just scientific and literary texts but current affairs as well. “I constantly read all the periodicals of the capital and from the provinces those, based on the articles clipped from them, that seem most interesting to me,” he noted in his diary. “The speaker’s platform and the press are the best informants for the monarch.”99 It was essential, he advised D. Isabel, “to be informed about everything that appears in the press of all of Brazil and in the legislative chambers of the General Assembly and of the provinces.”100 In his reading the emperor was concerned to be informed on policy matters, but he was just as interested to learn about abuses of power, corruption, and failures to do justice. The newspapers regularly carried columns of a pedidos [by request], in essence private advertisements printed for a fee. Individu-

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   , ‒ als often published an a pedido both to state their case and, they hoped, catch the emperor’s eye. In , Pedro II recommended that “those who have grievances should voice them in the press so that they come to my knowledge.”101 Pedro II paid equally close attention to his correspondence, even to anonymous letters, which he carefully preserved. The emperor made the remedying of the injustices he found during his reading a major goal in his system of rule.102 Ministers must have shuddered when they received notes of the following type: Mr. Wanderley, Why was Varginha of the Customs House dismissed? It is likely that he did deserve dismissal; but the moment is perhaps not opportune.  Nov.  D. Pedro ˚ 103

To ignore such inquiries, no matter how peripheral the subject, was simply not feasible for any minister. The emperor’s memory rarely if ever allowed unresolved questions to slip from his attention, and he would politely persevere until he did receive a response with some kind of explanation. An important dimension of the emperor’s system of rule, and one which did much to establish his dominance of public life, was his practice of visiting public institutions and private enterprises in Rio de Janeiro city and also, but far less frequently, in its hinterland. In  Pedro II’s diary records some eighty visits to fifty-seven institutions, including government ministries and agencies, fortresses and barracks, schools and colleges, prisons and cemeteries, exhibitions and cultural societies, and factories both state and private.104 There was no formality to these visits. Accompanied by his four semanários [the courtiers in waiting that week], the emperor would suddenly appear, in most cases with little or no notice, at the institution and submit it to a close scrutiny. He was particularly adept at asking polite questions which forced revealing answers. Although he avoided confrontation during his visits, he did not hesitate subsequently to seek remedy for the abuses and incompetence he uncovered.105 These tours of inspection did much to create the popular image of Pedro II as a benevolent and allknowing father figure. Of these visits perhaps the most celebrated and certainly the most courageous was his day-long tour of inspection and encouragement through the Rio cholera hospitals on September , , when the epidemic was at its most deadly.106 Particularly important was the emperor’s practice of sitting in on the examinations held at the Rio school of medicine, the Escola Central (the future Polytechnic School), the Escola da Marinha, and the Colégio D. Pedro II. At the last institution in , “the emperor did not miss a single exam, from  o’clock in the morning to  in the afternoon, not rising once or taking a break but follow-

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   , ‒ ing, textbook in hand, and with closest attention, all the tests.”107 Not only did he thus keep a careful check on the quality of instruction at these institutions but he was also able to identify students who gave promise of superior ability. Given his capacious memory, the emperor could encourage and protect the careers of the young men who had impressed him as students. As a result Pedro II had from the mid-s onward a personal acquaintance with many in the rising generation in politics, administration, and the arts. “The bearer of this letter will be, I judge, [João de Almeida] Areias,” Pedro II wrote in April  to the countess of Barral, then in Paris. “Areias is worthy of his post in London. I have known him since the colégio D. Pedro  as one of the earliest prize winners, and he is an excellent individual.”108 The circumstances of the individuals’ first encounter with the emperor placed them psychologically in a subordinate relationship with him, one resembling that of child and parent. Consciously or no they accepted Pedro II as the exemplar of what a Brazilian citizen should be. Alfredo Taunay, who eventually became a senator, described his graduation in the presence of the imperial couple on December , , from the Colégio D. Pedro II: “It is difficult for me, out of all the events in my career, to find another so full of intense happiness and legitimate pride.” He recalled that “on arriving in front of the emperor and empress I received a look, so kind, so gentle, so much like a family sharing in the happiness of their child.”109 Not all the emperor’s visits were a matter of duty and service. He regularly went to the meetings of the Instituto Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro, held every other Friday during the winter months. Despite its title, the Instituto did not confine itself to history and geography. Its sócios [fellows who were elected] included Brazil’s leading men of letters, many of them prominent in public life, such as Cândido Batista de Oliveira, a respected mathematician who was a senator and a former minister. If most of the members held academic degrees, a good number were self-made men, risen from quite humble social origins and, accordingly, very likely of mixed racial descent. The Instituto provided a milieu in which the emperor felt very much at ease both emotionally and intellectually. This contentment was perhaps inevitable. He had been the Instituto’s protector since  and in  he had provided it with a room in the city palace for its meetings. The marquis of Sapucaí, appointed in  Pedro II’s “director of literary studies,” had served as its president since . The Instituto’s approach to learning—inclusive and inquiring but not profound and systematic—matched Pedro II’s own. It was an institution formed in his own image.110 The emperor’s support for culture and science was not restricted to patronage of the Instituto Histórico, as two affairs—the poem A Confederação dos Tamoios in , and the Commissão Científica of –—attested. The writing

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   , ‒ of poetry using and so consecrating images of Brazil was seen by the ruling circles as a key to the formation of a distinctive and viable national culture. In  a member of the diplomatic corps, Domingos José Gonçalves de Magalhães, sent the emperor his epic poem on a theme drawn from the colonial era, the struggle between the native Tamoio peoples and the Portuguese settlers. Pedro II instructed the mordomo: Since I feel the poem which Magalhães has dedicated to me is a work that honors our culture and wishing not only to give him a personal proof of my appreciation but also to avoid the printing of the poem outside the country; in view of the great cost the author would incur here in producing it decently, I have decided that it should be done at my expense.111

Instead of receiving the expected paeans of approval, Magalhães’s epic was fiercely attacked in the press. The emperor rushed to the poem’s defense, even writing anonymous articles rebutting the criticisms. He had to concede: “The poem has merit, in spite of its defects, which I admit to be considerable.”112 The affair did little to establish his reputation as a connoisseur of literature. Equally ill-fated was Pedro II’s patronage of the Scientific Commission, which was created in  at the suggestion of the Instituto Histórico.113 By the middle of the nineteenth century scientific exploring expeditions were a wellestablished tradition in Europe and North America. Designed to make the entire world “known” in scientific and cultural terms, they had at the same time the effect of bringing both lands and peoples within the framework of what was termed “civilization.” “Does it not seem to you, gentlemen, more than time for us to enter, without foreign assistance, into the examination and investigation of this virgin soil, where all is marvelous?” the marquis of Sapucaí exhorted the Instituto Histórico in his annual address on December , . “To show to the world, finally, that we do not lack necessary talent and training for scientific researches?”114 The Commissão Científica was designed both to assert Brazil’s legitimacy as part of the civilized world and to make known in scientific and cultural terms a region of the country about which the regime at Rio de Janeiro was largely ignorant. The commission carried out a series of studies in the remote northern province of Ceará from February  to July . The emperor played a large role in setting up the commission, in securing government funding, and in writing its instructions.115 Both books and instruments were purchased in Germany. The expedition’s six members came mainly from Pedro II’s circle of acquaintance within the Instituto Histórico. The commission’s head was one of the court physicians, and its geologist, Guilherme Schüch de Capenema, had been a companion of the emperor’s youth and his

  

   , ‒ teacher of German. The ethnographer who was charged with writing the final report was a poet of repute and himself a native of Ceará province.116 The expedition did not enjoy much popular support, being dubbed “the butterfly commission.” When in Ceará its members did nothing to redeem its reputation. Their research was superficial, unsystematic, and lackadaisical. Some of the commission members seemed more interested in personal gratification than in scientific exploration, and their behavior, particularly their sexual philandering, drew widespread condemnation and contempt. The whole expedition would have produced nothing of worth had it not been for the emperor’s determination. Only he kept the faith. “If we disengage ourselves from the scientific movement evident throughout the world,” he urged the ministers in June , “we will lose a great deal, and we will not be so easily able to secure foreigners, more qualified in the various branches of science than Brazilians can now be, to come to assist in the goal of developing our country.”117 Pedro II’s diary for  shows him repeatedly battling to secure funds so that the commission’s findings could be both written up and published.118 Pedro II succeeded in his task, but the end result did not bring much honor either to the commission or to its main sponsor. Pedro II’s support for the Scientific Commission was not entirely due to his desire for Brazil to be seen as “civilized.” He had a genuine interest in knowing about the different parts of the country, demonstrated by his visits to Rio Grande do Sul and São Paulo provinces in ‒ and to the interior of Rio de Janeiro province in  and . However, during the s and the early s, his travels outside of the capital city and Petrópolis were, with one exception, very limited. His obligations to his daughters, the demands of official life, and his close involvement in the business of government precluded any prolonged absence from Rio de Janeiro. The emperor did make several short trips out from the capital. He left accounts of an official visit to the city of Niterói, across Guanabara Bay from Rio city, in September , and of a journey along the newly opened coach road running from Petrópolis, the summer capital, to Juiz de Fora in southern Minas Gerais, in June . About the first he wrote to his brother-in-law Fernando of Portugal: I and the Empress were on the th and th at Praia Grande—you ought to know where it is, but if you don’t you haven’t lost much—on the occasion of the celebrations held there in honor of independence. They bored me tolerably with a Te Deum—I already lost count of those—and a ball—I don’t like them with so many people or rather I don’t like them at all—on the first day, and on the nd a visit to the orphanage of St. Leopoldina, inspection of a fac-

  

   , ‒ tory well organized by a Brazilian for refining sugar by the most advanced methods, laying of the foundation stone of the new building for the said orphanage, and at night fireworks; except for the fireworks display which is even more boring than similar balls especially when it is artificial, everything else pleased me. Finally I fled on the morning of the th and here I am once again in my S. Cristóvão with my books, and in close contact with everything that is dear to me.119

The short diary account of the journey by carriage from Petrópolis to the town of Juiz de Fora, a three-day stay there, and the return home displays the same heavy-handed humor. “At Pedro do Rio, I started to deliver banalities— since they say I am friendly when I travel—and having warmed my stomach with the tasty infusion of the Celestial Empire [tea] I continued the journey at 7: .., since I had to travel with the sun.” During the evening of his arrival in Juiz de Fora, he was treated to the inevitable display of fireworks “which were a real insult to the moonlight.” Most of his time and the diary were taken up, as might be expected, by tours of inspection of the town, a nearby agricultural colony of Austrian and German immigrants, and the new road system. Were it not for two references to as pequenas [“the little girls”] and a single one to “Alguém” [“someone”, i.e., the empress], nothing in the text would reveal the fact that his family had accompanied the emperor.120 The most important journey of these years was to the six provinces of the northeast from October , , to February , .121 Designed so that the emperor could “know better the provinces of my Empire, the moral and material improvements of which are the object of my constant solicitude and of the efforts of my government,” the visit was an indisputable success. The tour showed Pedro II at his best and most effective.122 His openness and friendliness, his endless energy and genuine interest in the people he met and in the places he saw, his concern for efficiency and progress, and the munificence of his gifts combined to impress the inhabitants of the northeast. Moreover, Pedro II looked and acted the part of a monarch, while D. Teresa Cristina’s kindness and gentleness gained universal respect and affection.123 A very effective undertaking which dispelled any latent republican sentiment and consolidated the northeast’s support for the regime, the visit can be seen as a high point of the reign. The visit occurred at the moment when the era of conciliation was drawing to a close and the dynamics of Brazil’s political development began to change. Pedro II had been able to prevent the conciliação ministry’s resigning in September  in the wake of the marquis of Paraná’s death, but the cabinet did not survive beyond a few months. To replace it Pedro II managed to form a new ministry, led by the marquis of Olinda, which was willing to pursue the same

  

   , ‒

Figure . Teófilo Benedito Ottoni, radical, nationalist deputy, and senator who inspired the Liberal party revival in the early s

policies. Various factors combined to doom the conciliação e melhoramentos experiment. The slowness with which the railroads and other improvements were constructed and the concentration of improvements on the national capital and its hinterland revived demands for regional autonomy. The policy of easy credit inaugurated by the Olinda cabinet exacerbated rapid inflation arising from competition for scarce factors of production. A decade of peace and prosperity had removed fears of social unrest and of ideological conflicts. The result was a resurgence in political Liberalism. Several veterans of that party returned to active politics, and they were joined by members of a new generation, recent graduates in law, medicine, and engineering, who looked to the United States as the model for Brazil’s future.124 The principal spokesman and indeed embodiment for this renewed Liberalism was Teófilo Benedito Ottoni. A fiery orator, Ottoni had begun his political

  

   , ‒ life as a Nativist in the early s. In , as a deputy, he played a major role in the campaign for Pedro II’s immediate majority. He had been a leader of the  revolt in Minas Gerais, his native province. During the s Ottoni devoted his time to commerce and colonization schemes. Now he returned to politics, offering Brazilians a program of nationalism, federalism, and individual freedoms that attracted support. In the election of the deputies from Rio de Janeiro city held at the end of , an opposition slate headed by Ottoni defeated the candidates presented by the cabinet then in office.125 This unprecedented defeat in the national capital seriously undermined the government’s credibility and effectiveness. Pedro II found himself on the defensive, his position for the first time under serious challenge. In April  the inauguration of a statue of his father, portrayed as the founder of Brazil’s independence and grantor of its constitution, led to attacks in the press against both Pedro I and the monarchy itself.126 Politics became dominated by the struggle between the emperor and the revived Liberals who formed a loose alliance with a faction from the Conservatives, composed mainly of the disaffected among the younger generation of politicians.127 As the entries in his  diary make clear, Pedro II did not view Teófilo Ottoni favorably, and he distrusted the radicals with their demands for constitutional reform.128 The crux of the struggle lay in the question of control. Pedro II, who had never been dependent upon or subordinate to anyone, was not willing to give up his dominance of the political system. He used all his prerogatives and

  

   , ‒

Figure . Pedro II in the early s, dressed in his habitual casaca (tail coat) with white waistcoat for evening wear

all his skills to prevent the radicals from forming a cabinet and, above all else, to avoid naming Teófilo Ottoni president of the Council of Ministers.129 When, early in , British warships outside Rio harbor seized some Brazilian merchant vessels in retaliation for Brazil’s delay in settling outstanding British grievances, the emperor used the “Christie Question,” as the incident was known, to present himself as the defender of national honor. As the British agent reported in May , Pedro II “placed himself at the head of the popular movement and to a certain extent distanced his competitors, the extreme liberals, in the race for popularity.” “I am told in strictest confidence,” the envoy continued, “that the Emperor has more than once of late told his intimate friends that he should be far happier in any other country than he is here and that the Brazilians want an Emperor much more than he wants an Empire.”130 Pedro II’s motivation in thus unburdening himself is not obvious. While the words did express his real feelings, the statement was probably a calculated indiscretion. It implied that, if pushed too far and too hard, Pedro II would abdicate the throne,

  

   , ‒ leaving the nation to be ruled by an adolescent girl. Rumors about the emperor’s state of mind circulated among the politicians. His threat was sufficiently alarming to make them cool their discontents and moderate their demands. The emperor resisted the upsurge in Liberal strength with such skill that not until the end of August  did he have no choice but to name a radical Liberal cabinet. However, the ministry did not include Teófilo Ottoni or any other major figure among the radicals. Francisco José Furtado, the new president of the council, had not previously served as minister, and the cabinet he led did not command a firm majority in either house of the legislature. The cabinet’s program promised many reforms, but external events made them all abortive. Early in September , a major crisis hit the financial market of Rio, bankrupting many commercial and banking firms.131 At the same moment, the affairs of the Rio de Plata erupted. Refusing to submit to demands made upon it by the Brazilian government, Uruguay broke off diplomatic relations. Brazilian troops thereupon advanced into Uruguay. In a gesture of support for the invaded country, in November  the Paraguayan government seized a Brazilian steamer passing through Asunción. Containing the commercial crisis and handling the deepening emergency in the Rio de la Plata left the cabinet with no time or energy for any other business. The years from  to  had marked a time of peace and prosperity for Brazil. During this period, Pedro II demonstrated very considerable skill in the art of government. The political system functioned smoothly. Civil liberties were maintained. A start had been made on the introduction into Brazil of railroads, the electric telegraph, and steamship lines. The country was no longer troubled by the disputes and conflicts that had racked it during its first thirty years. The elder generation in Brazil ascribed these advances and these benefits to the emperor, whom they saw as the embodiment of what the country should be. Among the younger generation a growing number had very different assumptions. They did not regard the emperor as indispensable or exemplary and, as a British observer commented at the end of the s, they “murmur suppressed complaints that Dom Pedro II governs as well as reigns.”132

  

 

Triumphs of the Will, 1864–71



p

Pedro II’s life had never been easy or undemanding. His role as emperor was one which, for a person conscious of his duties and the needs of his country, required long hours of work. The years of midcentury with the Praieira revolt, the confrontation with Great Britain over the illegal slave trade, and the war against Juan Manuel de Rosas in the Rio de la Plata had been a testing time. However the emperor was then a young man and the triple crisis, while very challenging, had not been prolonged. There followed a decade of peace and prosperity during which Pedro II as ruler encountered no insuperable problems and Brazilians began to realize the vision of civilization that they associated with the nation-state. In , as the emperor approached his fortieth year and the onset of middle age, he found himself faced with two major, intractable, and thus prolonged challenges. For seven years, from  to , he was kept at full stretch, devoting all his energy, talents, and determination to the tasks at hand. At the very end of his life, Pedro II considered that, during these years, “I lived almost their double.”1 The emergencies brought out the best and the worst in his character. He achieved his goals but at considerable cost to himself and to the imperial regime which he embodied. The two challenges, slavery and war in the Rio de la Plata, had been building for some time before they became acute almost at the same time in , but in their nature they differed sharply. The first was internal to Brazil with international implications, the second an international question with internal implications. Slavery, subjecting first Amerindians and then Africans to forced labor, had characterized Portuguese America since the beginnings of European settle-

  

   , ‒ ment. Slavery permeated every facet of the economy and of life to the extent that, paradoxically, even slaves owned slaves. Notwithstanding this dependence upon slavery and in contrast to the antebellum American South, the ruling circles in Brazil did not perceive slavery as being integral to national culture or regard it as beneficial to the slaves. At most, Brazilians excused slavery as necessary for the prosperity of plantation agriculture, the engine of the economy. The drawbacks of depending on slavery were brought home to Brazilians in the late s when the British government had gone to the brink of war in order to enforce the ending of the illegal slave trade between Africa and Brazil. In order to avoid humiliation at the hands of the British, the Brazilian government had suppressed the trade in –.2 The end of the importation of slaves from Africa led to a tightness in the labor market evident by the late s. The shortage of labor was met by a considerable sale of slaves from the north to the booming center-south of the country, but this solution was no more than short term. As belief in the superiority of free trade and free labor gained strength, so the members of Brazil’s ruling circles came to realize that slavery could not continue indefinitely. They appreciated that its persistence tarnished their country’s reputation in the eyes of what they deemed the civilized world. On the other hand, they had no wish to meddle with an institution so central to the socioeconomic order. They put their hope in a flow of immigrants from Europe, ideally blond, Catholic, hard-working peasants, whose influx would cause slavery to wither away. As long as slavery continued to exist in other parts of the New World, and particularly in the United States, Brazil faced no risk of international sanctions or direct action to force the abolition of slavery within its boundaries. As emperor of Brazil, Pedro II fully shared the views of the ruling groups on the subject of slavery. In fact, he had played, as he did on so many topics, an important role in shaping those attitudes. His resolute backing of the cabinet in – had been a crucial factor in achieving the suppression of the slave trade. It was his views, made discretely known to his court circle, which confirmed the ruling groups in their desire for immigration from Europe and their acceptance of the superiority of free labor.3 While Pedro II carefully avoided any public reference to slavery, he made no secret that, in his private capacity, he did not approve of it.4 He personally possessed no slaves, although his abstention from ownership did not mean much. The imperial palaces and properties were replete with slaves who, technically the property of the nation, were in reality controlled by the emperor and his family.5 In honor of her marriage, D. Isabel requested her father to grant freedom to no fewer than nine slaves, ranging from “Martha (the negrinha of my bedroom)” to “José Luís (the black who played during all our dancing and who still plays on days of entertainment).”6

  

   , ‒ The outbreak of the American Civil War brought into question the status of slavery in the New World. President Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, issued on January , , did not free a single slave, but its appearance made for the first time the abolition of slavery a principal objective of the war. The battle of Gettysburg and the fall of Vicksburg doomed the South. The campaign for total abolition through the enactment of a formal amendment to the U.S. Constitution gathered strength.7 The Brazilian envoy in Washington D.C. kept his government fully informed of these developments. It was Pedro II who grasped what the evolving situation in North America implied for his country. Once slavery vanished in the United States—and by the end of  its abolition was only a question of time—Brazil would become the sole independent nation in the Western Hemisphere which continued to uphold slavery. Slavery did indeed also exist in Cuba and Puerto Rico, but the two were colonies of Spain. As a minor nation of Europe and with its colonies adjacent to the U.S., Spain was in no position to withstand pressures for ending slavery in its possessions.8 Foreseeing the approaching crisis, the emperor moved to inform the ruling circles that action on slavery had to be taken before international complications arose. These recommendations, contained in the customary “instructions” delivered to Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos, as head of a newly formed cabinet on January , , began: Events in the American Union require us to think about the future of slavery in Brazil, so that what occurred in respect to the slave trade does not happen again to us. The measure which seems to me most efficacious is that of freeing the children of slaves who are born a certain number of years from the present. I have been thinking about the means of carrying out this plan. It is, however, one of those that needs implementing with a firm hand, and the ills it will inevitably cause must be remedied as the circumstances permit. I recommend to you the various dispatches from our envoy in Washington, in which some very sensible observations are made on this subject.9

It was one thing for the emperor to make his views about the future of slavery known to the incoming cabinet, and thereby to the politicians as a whole. It was quite another for him to force the politicians to take action on the subject. Pedro II fully appreciated how limited was his ability to initiate change. Securing even a slow end to slavery would require all the arts of management and persuasion that Pedro II had developed during twenty-five years of rule. He was sure to face polite but unflinching resistance to any project for the emancipation of the slaves. The current of public opinion was, it was true, moving in the direction the emperor desired. In September  the president of the Instituto do Advo-

  

   , ‒

Figure . Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos, Liberal party leader, senator, and three times president of the Council of Ministers

gados [Institute of Attorneys] of Rio de Janeiro had given a speech entitled “The Illegality of the Right of Property Established over Slaves” [Ilegitimidade da propriedade constitutida sôbre o escravo].10 What complicated the emperor’s position was that, at the same time that he identified and moved to defuse the approaching crisis on slavery, the second challenge emerged full-blown. At the time of Pedro II’s birth in , Brazil had possessed the entire area of what is now Uruguay. A revolt against rule by Brazil had concluded in  with the establishment of Uruguayan independence.11 The new state lacked stability and the northern third of its territories were largely occupied by immigrants from the neighboring Brazilian province of Rio Grande do Sul. The rebellion against the national government which broke out in Rio Grande do Sul in  had depended greatly on supplies and support from Uruguay. The rebellion was brought to a negotiated close in , and Pedro II’s visit to Rio Grande do Sul in the same year was an essential step in reconciling the rebels to his rule.12 Twenty years later the ruling groups of Brazil continued to be uncertain of the loyalty of Rio Grande do Sul and tried to avoid giving any offense. Although Brazil had renounced its claims to Uruguay in , it did not cease to interfere in that republic’s internal affairs. In –, when Brazil sought to overthrow Juan Manuel de Rosas, the ruler of Argentina, the Brazilian forces sta-

  

   , ‒ tioned in Rio Grande do Sul had first attacked Rosas’s allies in Uruguay and then had crossed into Argentina where they aided in the dictator’s defeat. In  the Brazilian army had again occupied Uruguay at the request of the sitting president. In the early s the Uruguayan national government attempted to establish its authority over the northern third of the country and so to rein in the caudillos [local political chiefs], who were mostly of Brazilian ancestry and had links across the border. The caudillos resisted these efforts with violence. They also sought help from their relatives in Rio Grande do Sul who in turn brought pressure on the ruling circles in Rio de Janeiro. There they found willing allies among the radical Liberals, led by Teófilo Ottoni, who were enthusiastic nationalists and more than sympathetic to the expansion of Brazil’s influence in the Rio de la Plata region. After the  elections the emperor’s maneuvering to keep radicals out of office resulted in a series of weak cabinets lacking an assured parliamentary majority. This lack of firm leadership made the politicians in Rio de Janeiro particularly susceptible to the pressure exerted from Rio Grande do Sul. Pedro II was caught in the middle of this conjuncture of events. On the one hand he was certainly a man of peace, not favoring an expansionist policy. “Since the war against Rosas I have always supported nonintervention by Brazil in the affairs of the Rio de la Plata, provided the national honor and Brazilian interests be not prejudiced,” he wrote in his diary on December , , “and I was much opposed to the occupation of Montevideo by Brazilian troops [in –], even though it was requested by the Uruguayan government.”13 On the other hand, the emperor’s desire for control, which made him equate the imperial regime with himself, also caused him to identify Brazil with himself. As the above quotation shows, Pedro II was extremely protective of the country’s honor, which he equated with his own. Further, he had no respect for the Uruguayans. In a letter to his brother-in-law Fernando of Portugal, he commented: “The Estado Oriental [Uruguay] is divided between the port of Montevideo and the Countryside; in the first exists the larger part of the cultivated and in the second the uncouth, and in both little or no judgment. Therefore no matter what side is represented in the government it cannot long endure without civil war, mainly that of the countryside which at once resorts to violent and unconstitutional actions against its opponents.”14 Given the political pressures he faced in the early s, the emperor was not likely to resist popular demand for strong measures against Uruguay, particularly since the president in power at Montevideo in  was disliked not just by Brazilians but by Argentineans as well.15 In May  the ministry headed by Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos sent a leading politician on a special mission to Montevideo with a long list of Brazilian grievances to be settled. The Uruguayan regime responded to these demands

  

   , ‒ with a set of countergrievances. Going beyond his mandate, José Antônio Saraiva, the special envoy, tried to mediate a settlement between the competing factions within Uruguay, but his efforts proved vain. Civil strife resumed. On August  the envoy presented a Brazilian ultimatum, either to comply immediately with his country’s demands or face war with Brazil. The Uruguayan government, despite being beset by enemies, refused to comply. On September , Brazilian army units crossed the frontier and marched on Montevideo. In October the Brazilian navy blockaded the ports of Paysandu and Salto on the River Uruguay. By December, Paysandu was under siege by the Brazilian forces. Argentina did not resist or protest these drastic actions by its traditional rival Brazil. On February , , the president of Uruguay fled from the national capital, and five days later a convention negotiated by a Brazilian envoy brought the peaceful surrender of Montevideo to the forces besieging it. A new Uruguayan regime, backed by Brazil, was then installed.16 The fall of Montevideo did not end the crisis in the Rio de la Plata. In fact, it had already begun to escalate. If the fallen regime had been opposed by Brazil and Argentina, it was strongly backed by the ruler of Paraguay, a landlocked and isolated country which like Uruguay was caught between Brazil and Argentina. Francisco Solano López had succeeded his father as president of Paraguay in September . Unlike his father, who had conducted foreign relations with caution, Francisco López was characterized by energy and restlessness. He viewed Brazil and its ambitions with great suspicion. The major cause for suspicion was the Brazilian province of Mato Grosso, which lay on the western edge of Brazil and was virtually inaccessible by land. Mato Grosso depended for its communications and trade with the rest of Brazil on the River Paraguay, which ran through the country of that name and past its capital of Asunción before entering Argentina and discharging into the gulf of the Atlantic Ocean known as the Rio de la Plata. Paraguay maintained a tight control over river traffic passing through its national territory. Brazil had long sought to force Paraguay to grant free unrestricted access to Mato Grosso, not just for trade but for all types of vessels. In  a Brazilian naval mission had unsuccessfully tried to force the grant of free access. Relations between the two countries were further complicated by unresolved claims over the boundaries of Mato Grosso.17 President López, who negotiated for Paraguay with Brazil’s envoy during the confrontation in , viewed the strong-arm tactics adopted by Brazil toward Uruguay in  as part of a long-standing Brazilian plan to absorb its two small neighbors. The besieged Montevideo regime did everything it could to feed these fears. López determined to support the continued independence of Uruguay to the utmost of his ability. Accordingly, on August , , Paraguay had responded to the Brazilian ultimatum to Uruguay by issuing its own ultima-

  

   , ‒ tum, demanding that Brazil not violate Uruguay’s sovereignty.18 The Brazilian invasion of Uruguay took place before the imperial government had knowledge of this ultimatum, but it would almost certainly have paid no attention to it. Neither Pedro II nor the Brazilians in general viewed the Paraguayans with any respect. “They boast of having thousands of soldiers,” the emperor had assured his brother-in-law during the confrontation in , “but most without military training and with the slight or nonexistent energies of the Guaraní [Indian] race.”19 Unable to deter the Brazilian government or to assist his allies in Montevideo to repel the Brazilian army, President López determined to strike back. On November , , the Brazilian steamer Marquês de Olinda, carrying the new president of Mato Grosso and his staff, passed through Asunción and continued its passage northward to Brazilian territory. López sent his warships after the steamer, which they seized on November , taking it and its passengers back to Asunción. A month later, without bothering to issue a formal declaration of war, López ordered his troops northward to invade the province of Mato Grosso. The division was to take possession of the frontier territories in dispute between the two nations.20 News of these events took some time to reach Rio de Janeiro, but when they did the political situation in Rio de Janeiro guaranteed that war would follow. On August , , Pedro II had finally, after long resistance, been compelled to appoint a cabinet composed of radical Liberals, fervent and expansionist nationalists. The incoming ministry, headed by Francisco José Furtado, viewed López’s action as an insult to the nation’s honor, an insult which could be expunged only in blood. The government issued a formal declaration of war on Paraguay on January , . It had already called for national mobilization, having created on January  the Voluntários da Pátria, new army units to be composed of those who had volunteered to expel the invaders from Brazilian soil. The cabinet’s measures received Pedro II’s strong support. The Paraguayan invasion offended both his personal honor and his control of events. The Liberal government, in order to concentrate its energies on the conflict with Paraguay, had to put on hold all its plans for sweeping internal reforms, plans that the emperor in any case distrusted. Since the only practical approach to Paraguay lay through Argentine national territory up the Paraná River, it was extremely difficult for Brazil to launch an effective assault on its foe. If López had been willing to consolidate Paraguay’s existing gains along the Mato Grosso frontier and avoid any expansion of the war, he would probably have achieved a considerable success. But he was not a cautious man. In January , López decided also to free Uruguay from control by Brazil. His army could not, however, achieve this goal without first crossing through the Argentine territory which separated Paraguay from Uruguay, and

  

   , ‒ he requested transit rights from the government at Buenos Aires for his troops to pass through the province of Corrientes. As was to be expected, the Argentines refused to permit any such violation of their neutrality. In response to this refusal the Paraguayan Congress adopted on March  a formal declaration of war against Argentina.21 At the start of April  a Paraguayan expeditionary force thrust south into Corrientes province, meeting no effective resistance and occupying the area. President López’s sudden attack on Argentina had the effect of uniting his foes against him. On May , , the treaty of the Triple Alliance was signed at Buenos Aires by the governments of Argentina and Brazil and by the new regime in Uruguay. By the accord the three countries bound themselves to make no peace until López had been expelled from Paraguayan territory. The treaty guaranteed by article  the independence of Paraguay and the right of its people to choose their own government. However, a secret protocol recognized the maximum border claims that Brazil and Argentina had each advanced against Paraguay. The three allies began to organize a counterattack which would first drive the Paraguayans behind their own borders and then invade the country. The allies’ ability to do so was considerably advanced by the naval battle at Riachuelo on the Paraná River in Corrientes province on June . The Paraguayan navy attacked the Brazilian squadron and, after a long action, suffered a decisive defeat. With the virtual elimination of his navy, President López lost the capacity for effective action in the Rio de la Plata. The war had a second front. In May  a second division of Paraguayan troops had marched south to the Uruguay River, which formed the boundary between Paraguay and Brazil. Reaching it on June , the Paraguayans invaded Brazilian territory. The local forces, mainly units of the National Guard, the local militia created in , proved incapable of opposing this attack. The invaders first seized and sacked the town of São Borja, in western Rio Grande do Sul, and then moved south down the Uruguay River, occupying the border town of Uruguaiana on August . The Paraguayans had by this time almost reached the territory of Uruguay, which their ruler desired to liberate.22 In all these developments the emperor was directly and enthusiastically involved. From April  to May , an unequaled source exists for understanding his attitudes and activities as they developed month by month in response to the challenge from Paraguay.23 The countess of Barral, who had been in charge of the two princesses from  until their marriages and who commanded the emperor’s affections, decided with her husband to return to France. Having settled their affairs in Rio, the Barrals departed for Europe at the end of March .24 Thereafter Pedro II wrote twice a month to her, sending news of his own life and attempting to keep the friendship alive and intimate.

  

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Map . Paraguayan War—The Paraguayan offensives, ‒

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l?Omile•

iliO kilometcl'll

   , ‒ While the emperor generally avoided politics, his remarks reveal the workings of his mind and his handling of the conflict with Paraguay. The letters make clear how isolated Rio de Janeiro was from the site of the war, but also how tirelessly the emperor worked to ensure the rapid dispatch of troops to the Rio de la Plata and to accelerate the construction of warships. On April , , he wrote: “The principal news is the probable declaration of war by López against Argentina,” a declaration that had been made on March , a month earlier. Similarly, not until July , three weeks after the action, did the emperor report “the battle of Riachuelo which has covered with glory the Brazilian navy.”25 At the start of July came the news of the Paraguayan incursion into Brazil. Pedro II’s response was immediate and decisive: “Rio Grande [do Sul] has been invaded. My place is there, and I will go there the day after tomorrow at  in the morning. I believe that everything will go well and that the Paraguayans, if not already driven out of Rio Grande, soon will be.”26 The emperor’s desire to go in person to the front naturally encountered considerable resistance. The radical Liberal ministry, in office since the end of August , had been defeated at the start of the parliamentary session in May. The emperor had succeeded in replacing it with a far more moderate cabinet headed by the marquis of Olinda. The ministers could agree only upon the need to fight and win the war. The emperor’s support and guidance were thus crucial for the survival of the cabinet, which was appalled by the prospect of his absence from Rio.27 Pedro II won his ministers’ consent by a simple stratagem. If denied his wish, he would abdicate the throne and, enlisting as a Voluntário da Pátria, go to the war front as an ordinary citizen.28 In exchange for the cabinet’s forced consent to his absence, he agreed to adjourn, on grounds of the emergency created by the war, the legislative session for eight months. The ministers were thus enabled to devote themselves heart and soul to fighting the war and were protected from having to face their numerous foes in parliament.29 Leaving Rio de Janeiro on July , , the emperor was accompanied by his young son-in-law August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, by the minister of war, Ângelo Moniz da Silva Ferraz, who was needed to countersign decrees and orders and to maintain the constitutional order, and by his military aide-de-camp, the marquis of Caxias, the country’s most distinguished soldier. The last two men did not care for each other and were soon feuding. It was characteristic of Pedro II that he paid no attention to their bickering, which he in no way allowed to influence his life.30 The emperor was absent from the national capital for four months, not returning there until November . His letters to his wife, as well as to the countess of Barral, provide a vivid picture of his activities. As ever he was far more

  

   , ‒

Figure . Pedro II in the uniform of a Voluntário da Pátria [National Volunteer], photographed at Pôrto Alegre in late July 

relaxed and human away from Rio than he was in the national capital. He showed his usual patience and persistence in trying, when in Pôrto Alegre, capital of Rio Grande do Sul, to mobilize the local resources for the war. After spending a week in Pôrto Alegre he moved slowly westward, reaching Caçapava, a small town in the center of the province, on August . There the count d’Eu, just returned to Rio from a trip to Europe with D. Isabel, finally caught up with the emperor and his brother-in-law. “For the moment, we are here truly in the far reaches of barbarism,” the count wrote to his former tutor. “You would search in vain for the luxuriant vegetation and warm climate of Rio de Janeiro. Here a glacial wind blows under a stony sun over endless prairies: it’s dismal.”31 The imperial party spent almost two weeks at Caçapava, because the minister of war would not authorize any movement until news from the war front improved. Pedro II admitted that “the stay here has bored me horribly,” but he maintained his usual self-control. During this time he and his two sons-in-law

  

   , ‒ had ample opportunity of getting to know each other. With his customary discretion the emperor wrote to his wife on September : “Gastão [count d’Eu] and August have conducted themselves perfectly and I am very content with them.” Of his second son-in-law he remarked: “August has written to Leopoldina in a very good sense, and he seems a young man of much judgment.”32 A report written at this time from Caçapava praised August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, “whose courteous affability charms and whose attentive ways captivate.”33 Pedro II probably shared this view, but close contact soon made him appreciate that little of substance lay under the charm. The emperor’s correspondence contains no comments on the count d’Eu. The relationship between the two can be inferred from indirect evidence. The count d’Eu wanted his father-in-law to grant him both intimacy and employment—two things that Pedro II, since his quarrel in  with his brother-in-law, the count of Áquila, found difficult if not impossible to give to any member of his family. Arriving back from Europe in July , the count d’Eu complained that the emperor had left no specific instructions for him.34 As a career soldier who had participated in the Spanish wars against Morocco, the count d’Eu wished first and foremost to fight the Paraguayans: “As for me, as soon as I see him, I plan to move heaven and earth so that he will let me go to Humaitá [fortress] or to Asunción: we will see what comes of this.”35 In fact, two days before Pedro II left for the south, he wrote his son-in-law a long letter of explanation which, by his standards, was both candid and accommodating. He would refuse to let him join the fighting if doing so meant entering foreign territory. “Your going outside the territory of the Empire does not seem advisable to me as I will explain to you in person due to lack of time now, but I will be very happy if, inside the Empire, both of you give fresh proofs of your valor.”36 The  constitution forbade the emperor to leave Brazil without prior approval of the legislature, and Pedro II, probably unwilling to risk possible political complications, extended this ban to his two sons-in-law. On arriving at Caçapava, the count d’Eu managed at first to restrain his martial ardor. “It is very necessary to be patient, hoping for better things. I have, moreover, found the emperor to be I won’t say more kindly (for he has always been that), but more open than previously.” Pedro II made not the least complaint about any of the actions taken by his son-in-law, “not even about the list of honors for the courts of Europe which I [the count d’Eu] took upon myself to draw up with the marquis of Olinda [the president of the council] at Rio.”37 However, Pedro II was adamant in his refusal to let the count serve with the army outside of Brazil, no matter how often he renewed his request. This battle of wills continued as the emperor and his party resumed its movement westward, following the defeat of a detached wing of the invading Paraguayan divi-

  

   , ‒ sion at Yatay in Argentina on August  and the encirclement of the division itself in the town of Uruguaiana. On September , , Pedro II and his entourage finally reached the troops besieging the Paraguayan forces lodged in Uruguaiana, where presidents Bartolomé Mitre of Argentina and Venancio Flores of Uruguay were commanding their national forces. “The first is the most cultured, the second is an old and very ugly caboclo [peasant], but cunning,” Pedro II wrote to his wife, while the count d’Eu told his father: “There could not be two more dissimilar types, Mitre being a literary man and Flores more or less a brigand.”38 For André Rebouças, a young member of the engineering corps who observed the encounter, it was Pedro II who dominated the meeting. “The emperor, with his great height, speaking to his subjects, to Mitre, to Flores, . . . in fact to all who surrounded him, seemed to be saying: Acknowledge that I am in truth the first citizen of South America.”39 During the siege the endless thunderstorms and piercing cold constituted the sole danger that the three heads of state faced. The Paraguayans lacked food, ammunition, and the numbers needed for a sortie. Threatened with an assault, the garrison surrendered on September . The Paraguayans had to march, upon leaving the town, past the three rulers, Pedro II being in the center, flanked by Mitre and Flores.40 “The enemy was unworthy even of being beaten. What a rabble!” the emperor wrote scornfully to the countess of Barral.41 The victory was followed five days later by another success for the emperor. A British diplomat, sent in special mission, came to offer a carefully phrased apology for the Christie Question of , when British warships had seized Brazilian merchant vessels, and requested that diplomatic relations between the two countries be resumed. Pedro II, who had wished to insist on financial compensation but had yielded on the point, accepted the apology and the proposal in a short and stiff reply.42 The surrender of Uruguaiana and the British apology marked a high point in Pedro II’s reign. Faced by a major crisis he had reacted with energy and decision. By his example and his actions he had contributed decisively to the expulsion of the Paraguayan invaders from Brazilian soil. Similarly, his insistence on upholding the national honor in the Christie Question had helped to secure from the most powerful nation of Europe, and one confident of its own self-righteousness, a formal apology. In September , Pedro II was indeed the first citizen of Brazil and perhaps of South America. The emperor’s first visit to Rio Grande do Sul in  had given him the selfconfidence and the aplomb he needed to be an effective monarch. Now, twenty years later, his second visit to the province and above all the triumph at Uruguaiana wrought a further change in Pedro II’s behavior. Hitherto the politicians

  

   , ‒ had proposed and he had disposed. The Paraguayan invasion compelled him to take the initiative, to play a visible role in public affairs. The emperor found the new system to his liking and he intended to persist in it. If he had had to yield on the question of a financial indemnity from the British government, he was determined not to compromise on his determination to expunge the stain that the Paraguayan invasion had left on the nation’s and his own honor. The president of Paraguay had dared to disrupt the ordered world over which Pedro II presided and to threaten his control of events. The emperor would not rest content until the miscreant was utterly abased. The fighting would continue until Francisco Solano López was deposed as president and either dead or expelled from Paraguay. Pedro II did not flinch from what his goal might entail—lives sacrificed, materials wasted, and money expended. Emboldened by his recent successes, the emperor was equally determined to press ahead with his plans for the enactment of a concrete measure for the ending of slavery in Brazil. With these twin goals in view, he left Uruguaiana on October  to return to the national capital. It was typical of Pedro II that the challenges and triumphs of the last three months affected his day-to-day conduct not at all. His homeward route passed through the border towns of Rio Grande do Sul, which he inspected carefully. He stayed up one night to observe an eclipse of the moon. As he told the countess of Barral, “my health has been excellent and I have much benefited from the journey,” probably because he had taken far more exercise than was his wont.43 Pedro II’s well being contrasted with that of the count d’Eu. At Uruguaiana, he had finally given up all hope that the emperor would let him join the allied army preparing to invade Paraguay. “I have [the prospect of] nothing else to do but confine myself to Laranjeiras [where he resided in Rio],” he wrote to his father, “and confine myself to books.”44 Unremitting activity, stress, and adversity often caused the count to fall sick, either from bronchial or gastric complaints. He was now laid low with a stomach ailment. “There is no news save for Gastão’s sickness from which he is almost entirely recovered,” Pedro II laconically informed D. Teresa Cristina. “He is not going with me to Pôrto Alegre so that he can recuperate. There is no cause for concern.”45 This episode revealed a fundamental dissimilarity between the two men. Pedro II was persistent, self-centered, and physically resilient, while the count d’Eu was high-strung, uncertain, and prone to illness. Their personalities did not correspond and, while both were men of good will, they worked at cross purposes. On returning to Rio de Janeiro on November , , the emperor plunged back into the routine of government. A good part of his time and energies was devoted to sending men and supplies to the forces destined to invade Paraguay. “The war is going well and I hope that it will last only a short time. Internally

  

   , ‒

Figure . Gaston, count d’Eu, in uniform and wearing the decorations gained in the Paraguayan War

there is much that needs to be done; but that will be worked on.” First among the internal problems was the challenge of slavery. The Paraguayan invasion of Brazilian territory had pushed the question into the background, but, now that the enemy was repulsed, dealing with slavery could not be avoided. Much had happened since the emperor’s instructions to the new president of the Council of Ministers in early . The U.S. Congress had passed the Thirteenth Amendment abolishing slavery in January . The Confederacy went down to defeat in April. At the end of the year the Thirteenth Amendment was ratified. In Spain the government moved to extirpate the illegal African slave trade and in November  set up a “Commission of Inquiry for the Colonies” [Junta de Información de Ultramar], a first step toward modifying the status quo, including slavery, in Cuba and Puerto Rico.46 Brazil thus stood exposed as the sole nation-state in the Western Hemisphere which had not committed itself to addressing the problem of slavery. The reasons for taking action were strong but, on the other hand, the war with Paraguay and the strains it placed on the social order provided equally compelling arguments for postponing action. The minister of foreign affairs took precisely

  

   , ‒ this line of argument with the new British envoy in December . “Senhor [José Antônio] Saraiva has assured me his Government are most anxious to present some measure to the Legislature for the abolition of slavery, but that it cannot be done at this moment, nor until the war with Paraguay be concluded.” The British envoy, though sympathetic to abolition, did not dispute the government’s decision. “It is now of vital importance that there should be no cause of agitation or division in the interior of the country, in short no excuse for preventing all parties from supporting and aiding the Government heart and soul in the prosecution of the war.”47 If this was indeed the cabinet’s attitude, its members reckoned without the emperor. Pedro II turned for help to José Antônio Pimenta Bueno, marquis of São Vicente, a long-standing and trusted associate. A native of São Paulo province who had made his own way in life, São Vicente had risen thanks to his intellectual prowess and his command of European culture. He was a senator and former minister, whom the emperor had asked in  to organize a cabinet. In  São Vicente published Direito público brasileiro, which became the standard commentary on the Brazilian constitution. The work scarcely mentioned slaves and their status, but it is clear that the author’s views on this subject, as on most others, coincided with those of Pedro II. São Vicente drafted a set of five proposed laws which would have brought slavery to an end by the last day of  and which contained provisions for the protection of slaves and the amelioration of their status.48 The emperor, who received these projects early in , passed them on to the marquis of Olinda with the suggestion that they be referred to the Council of State. The request caused considerable debate within the cabinet. One of the ministers went so far as to draft a bill declaring free the children of slave mothers born from January , , onward. The British envoy, in a dispatch sent on February , , following a very confidential conversation with the minister of foreign affairs, reported that all the ministers save Olinda, the president of the council, had been in favor of presenting an emancipation bill to the legislature, due to open in March. Olinda feared that, given the absence of the military forces in Paraguay, such a proposal would encourage slave owners to adopt armed resistance. The president of the council adamantly refused to consent to any action on the subject.49 Pedro II was far too experienced and shrewd a tactician to try forcing the issue at this point. Winning the war against Paraguay had to take priority. During  the abolition of slavery did become a legitimate subject for public debate, and public sentiment was moving in favor of action.50 The emperor simply awaited the next opportune moment. He concentrated his efforts on the war, dealing with the financial problems produced by soaring military expendi-

  

   , ‒

Figure . Pedro de Araújo Lima, marquis of Olinda, senator, regent (‒), and four times president of the Council of Ministers

tures, and trying to prevent disputes between the ministers from bringing down the cabinet.51 These difficulties and distractions in no way discouraged Pedro II. He spent the summer months from December  to April  not at Petrópolis, enjoying the cool of the mountains, but in the heavy heat of Rio de Janeiro, so that he could respond immediately to any emergency and also keep a close oversight of public affairs. His one consolation was: “I am a grandfather. Leopoldina had on the th—it was meant to be the th—at . in the afternoon a fine boy.”52 The birth of Pedro Augusto at Rio in March  assured the succession to the throne in the next generation and brought a moment of true happiness into Pedro II’s life. As he told the countess of Barral, “Given my liking for children, how I will play with my little grandson.” Unfortunately for him, the baby and parents departed for a six-month visit to Europe early in May, leaving him to face alone the problems of war and slavery.53 For a time both challenges took a favorable turn. After long delays the allied forces finally crossed the River Paraná, separating Paraguay and Argentina, and established themselves on Paraguayan soil. On May , , a sudden attack by the Paraguayan army at Tuyutí was soundly defeated, but the victory was not used to advantage by Bartolomé Mitre, the president of Argentina, who was

  

   , ‒ serving as supreme commander of the allied forces. The Olinda cabinet finally collapsed in early August. To replace it, the emperor named a ministry headed by Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos, who had already served twice as president of the council, and to whom Pedro II had in January  addressed his recommendations on slavery.54 The new cabinet provided the emperor with the opportunity to commit the regime openly and irrevocably to a gradual suppression of slavery. In July  there had arrived in Rio a very strongly worded petition addressed to the emperor by the French Committee for the Abolition of Slavery. Signed by some of the most eminent politicians, writers, and thinkers of France, the petition requested Pedro II to take urgent action on behalf of Brazil’s slaves. Under the provisions of the  constitution, Pedro II had no power to respond directly. Nevertheless, he persuaded the cabinet to reply both for him and for itself. Signed by the minister of foreign affairs, the response read in part: “The emancipation of the slaves, the necessary corollary of the abolition of the slave trade, is therefore no more than a question of means and opportunity.”55 The reply, sent off on August , , was an extremely deft maneuver. It committed the ruling circles of Brazil to emancipation through a public pledge to the intellectuals of France, the group that they admired before all others and one which they dared not offend. The reply made action on the question of slavery inevitable and imminent. Further, the episode significantly strengthened the emperor’s hand, since it was to him that public opinion outside of Brazil attributed responsibility for the reply. In the United States the poet John Greenleaf Whittier wrote a much-quoted poem, “Freedom in Brazil,” of which the second verse begins: And thou, great-hearted ruler, through whose mouth The word of God is said, Once more, “Let there be light!”— Son of the South, Lift up thy honored head, Wear unashamed a crown by thy desert More than by birth thy own, . . . 56

This notable success on the slavery question was more than offset by adverse developments in the war with Paraguay. The allied forces found themselves facing a network of fortifications at Humaitá on the River Paraguay, which formed Paraguay’s southwestern border. Advance was blocked both by river and by land. A first attack captured the outlying fort of Curuzú, but the assault on the major fort of Curupaití, launched on September , , was a total and bloody failure.57

  

   , ‒ By this time the war had lasted for nearly two years and consumed large quantities of men, materials, and money. Patriotic enthusiasm was no longer evident. Strong sentiment existed in favor of a negotiated peace. The emperor did not agree. Reporting the defeat to the countess of Barral, he wrote: They talk about peace in the Rio de la Plata, but I won’t make peace with López, and public opinion is on my side; therefore I don’t doubt the honorable outcome of the campaign for Brazil. The government will perhaps this very day take important measures for the active prosecution of operations. I fear some interference from Europe, but we know how to be polite but resolute. What an outcry some newspapers over there are bound to make! but our friends there should not be troubled, for great faith exists here in the victory of so just a cause.58

It was the emperor who forced the cabinet to approve the appointment as commander in chief of the Brazilian forces in Paraguay of the marquis of Caxias, the country’s most successful soldier but in politics a leader of the Conservative party. The nomination caused the immediate resignation of the minister of war, Caxias’s long-standing opponent, who had been held over from the Olinda cabinet.59 Under Pedro II’s prodding, the government set about finding a further ten thousand soldiers to send to the front. On November , the emperor wrote to the countess of Barral: “Caxias should have arrived Thursday last in the Rio de la Plata. Efforts are being made to send more troops, and everyone feels that the war should be concluded as honor demands, cost what it cost, although the difficulties have been somewhat exaggerated. The worst is the delay; since our countrymen are more given to enthusiasm than to perseverance.”60 The need for troops did afford an opportunity to advance the cause of slave emancipation. The male slaves belonging to the nation were freed on condition that they became recruits. Members of the National Guard units called to serve in the war were permitted to send substitutes. Increasingly they were encouraged to purchase and free slaves to serve in their stead. For the former slaves freedom thus acquired had limited value, but in terms of policy it was the first time that any Brazilian government had taken steps which did not uphold slavery within the country.61 In terms of finding recruits for the war, the measures worked. In April , the British envoy noted that “few persons would have believed at the beginning of the war, that Brazil could have furnished so large a force.”62 The emperor’s life during these months of crisis was complicated by two causes for irritation, one familial, the other political. On his return to Rio in November , Pedro II had attempted to keep the count d’Eu quiet and occu-

  

   , ‒ pied by naming him to be commandant general of artillery and president of a commission for improvements in the army. The count d’Eu was given no chance to refuse the appointments. The emperor’s son-in-law, who did not lack intelligence, realized that he had been outmaneuvered but hoped to draw advantage from the situation. “Who knows out of this position as comandante geral and this comissão de melhoramentos (obvious sinecures in Rio de Janeiro in the present circumstances) will not produce the right to go to Humaitá?”63 The posts given to the count d’Eu involved, as he himself foresaw, nothing more than make-work which achieved little. As a soldier he could not but desire to be at the site of action, and in July  he renewed his demands to the emperor for permission to go to the front. Finding his request blocked, he appealed to the cabinet and his insistence became the more urgent after news arrived in early October of the bloody allied repulse before Curupaití. The count d’Eu talked to the marquis of Caxias and to the minister of war but to no avail. The best he could achieve was to have his request referred to the Conselho de Estado for its advice. “In all this affair, the emperor has maneuvered in a way which gives me no reason for complaint against him; but it is impossible for me not see his hand behind everything. In effect from the moment the matter was referred to the Council of State the outcome was little in doubt. All of them being men of a certain age and almost all belonging to the Conservative party, the councilors’ constant preoccupation is to avoid anything which lies outside the ordinary routine.”64 The count d’Eu knew himself to be outmaneuvered and to be of no account, while for the emperor his son-in-law had made himself a nuisance without cause. The gap between the two men widened, and trust between them did not flourish. The second irritation for the emperor came from the political scene. Pedro II honestly believed that Brazilians should put political differences aside until the war had been won and, in any case, his preference was for cabinets that transcended party politics. It was probably for these reasons that he worked so hard to keep the Olinda cabinet in office during  and  despite the incompatibilities between its ministers.65 Moreover, by keeping the cabinet in office, he avoided having to choose a new president of the Council of Ministers from one of the two factions—Progressistas (former Conservatives) and the radical Liberals—into which the Chamber of Deputies was then divided. When the Olinda ministry collapsed at the start of August , Pedro II had chosen Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos to organize a new cabinet. Given Zacarias’s capacities and his record of service, the choice was justifiable, but Zacarias was identified with the Progressistas. The radical Liberals had reason to conclude that the emperor was deliberately excluding them from power. In the Chamber of Deputies they moved a motion of no confidence which the new

  

   , ‒ cabinet survived by the narrow margin of three votes (fifty-one to forty-eight).66 The victory was sufficient, given the existence of the war, to make the ministry secure for the rest of the session, which was the last before the election in February  of a new Chamber of Deputies. The government possessed ample means to secure the return of its supporters to the legislature, and Zacarias was not a man to scruple in using these. The consequence was extreme frustration and alienation among the radical Liberals directed against Zacarias, but even more against the emperor. They began to denounce what they called imperialismo: Pedro II’s ability to dominate the political system and manipulate it as he pleased. This ability sprang, they charged, from his skill in co-opting and corrupting politicians whom he allowed, when in office, to rig the elections as they pleased. These accusations were given powerful expression in Tito Franco de Almeida’s O Conselheiro Francisco José Furtado, published late in . Ostensibly a study of the life of the head of the radical Liberal ministry in office from August  to May , the book was in reality a survey of Brazil’s political development since . It sought to show how, at every stage, imperialismo had subverted and corrupted the political process. The author took care to avoid personal attacks on the emperor and his character, and this restraint made the work all the more effective. Pedro II read the book from cover to cover and made extensive notes on the text, rebutting and commenting on the criticisms of his system of rule.67 The emperor understood the seriousness of these charges and, while he did not defend himself in public, he did take care to rebut them to members of the court circle. On August , , two days after the Zacarias cabinet took office, Pedro II wrote to one of his court physicians: The impatience of some leads them to attribute to me the desire to destroy the parties and their most important men; but how could I direct the government without them? I have always sought to restrict my action within what is simply moderating, and is not that useful to the parties? Perhaps they do not need it and I would be glad if such were the case, with the party in power respecting the rights of the opposition and the latter trying only to oust the former by a high-principled attack on its errors in the public arena. My love for the Constitution and my nonambitious character as well as twenty-six years of experience do not allow me, I trust, to be mistaken in what I am saying.68

In March , following the elections for a new Chamber of Deputies, Pedro II made an exceptional reference to politics in a letter to the countess of Barral: “The elections proceeded better than I had expected. Let’s hope that the new Chamber allows the ministry, no matter what its party allegiance, to govern,

  

   , ‒ because I belong to them all, that is, the party of the Nation, and therefore what they say about the imperialista party is simply malicious gossip.”69 Despite these protestations, the emperor had little or no sympathy for the radical Liberals and their program. They gave him no cause for concern while the war dragged on. Pedro II’s choice of Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos to be president of the council sprang in part from his determination to make progress in respect to slavery. The emperor knew that Zacarias would be cooperative on this score, and he believed that the time for action had come. As a senior bureaucrat wrote in March 7: “For some time now titles and honors have been given in exchange for slaves who are freed and enlisted in the army. In these measures has been detected the Emperor’s intention to take advantage of the war to begin the abolition of slavery. What confirms this viewpoint is that, for some days now, there has been talk of a decree which will order the expropriation of , slaves. The word abolitionist has been pronounced, along with that of abdication.”70 This rumor, while exaggerating the cabinet’s intentions and probably overstating the emperor’s determination to win the war or abdicate, did reflect the government’s taking the first step against slavery. On February , , the president of the council wrote to the members of the Council of State, noting that slavery, “today condemned without reserve,” was everywhere approaching its end, and stating that the government must take precautions to prevent problems. The councilors of state were asked for their opinion on three questions: “() Should the abolition of slavery be undertaken? If the answer is affirmative, () When should abolition occur? () How and with what precautions and protections should this measure be carried out?” Included were the five projects for ending slavery authored by the marquis of São Vicente at the start of the previous year.71 The importance of the topic justified its being referred to the Council of State itself rather than to one or more of its committees. However, since the emperor presided over the meetings of the full council and since his views on the subject were known, the councilors were delivering their opinions under some constraint. The wording of the letter and the assumption that the answer to question one would be affirmative indicated the way in which the councilors were expected to respond. Nonetheless, when the Council of State met on April , , only a bare majority of the councilors supported, with much hesitation and reservation, the concept of government action to bring slavery to an end.72 This reluctant assent justified the calling of a second meeting of the council on April , at which the emperor announced the cabinet’s intention of drawing up a project in accord with the council’s recommendations, which favored freeing the children born of slave mothers after a set date. Once again, despite con-

  

   , ‒ siderable opposition, the Council of State gave its tepid consent to the government’s plans. Two days later a commission composed of three councilors was appointed with the mandate to draw up a draft, based on São Vicente’s five projects.73 The final and most important step was the passage in the Speech from the Throne that Pedro II read to the newly elected Chamber of Deputies at its opening session on May , : The servile element cannot fail to merit your consideration at the appropriate time, taking action so that, while respecting existing property and without causing great upset to agriculture, our leading industry, the high concerns related to emancipation are attended to.74

The language may have been simultaneously convoluted and guarded, but the central point was that the emperor, who read the speech, committed himself and the regime, and thereby every aspiring politician, to action on slavery. The passage in the speech certainly had the emperor’s approval, and, in view of his habits, he had probably made amendments to the wording, as was his practice, when the ministers presented the draft speech in despacho. In the Chamber of Deputies the Vote of Thanks proposed in response to the Speech from the Throne contained a passage that “associated” the Chamber of Deputies with the idea of taking action to terminate slavery. A deputy from São Paulo province presented an amendment that would have made the lower house “regret” the mention of slavery in the Speech from the Throne. This amendment clearly attracted little support. The deputy replaced it with another which promised that the lower house would examine the subject “at the appropriate time.” This amendment was defeated on June , and the Vote of Thanks passed unchanged by the Chamber of Deputies. Assured of support for action, the cabinet was free to proceed to the next stage. The three-man committee of the Council of State named in April could get to work producing a draft law for submission to the legislature.75 The same Speech from the Throne which introduced the topic of slavery noted that “the war provoked by the president of Paraguay has not reached its desired end; but Brazil and the Argentine and Oriental republics [Uruguay], loyal to the alliance made, will shortly achieve it.” These words were carefully chosen to mask the fact that, since the defeat at Curupaití in September, the allied forces had kept up the siege of Humaitá but had made no progress toward defeating the enemy. In the months from September  onward, the emperor maintained an exemplary fortitude and optimism. He worked hard to ensure that fresh troops and ample supplies were sent to the war front. “The army is much increased and more soldiers have been dispatched from here,” he informed the countess of Barral on January , . “Do not be concerned; there

  

   , ‒ will be good news when it is least expected.” Early in February , Bartolomé Mitre had to return to Argentina to suppress an internal revolt, and Caxias replaced him as supreme commander of all the allied forces. “By the middle of March decisive action by the allied or rather Brazilian forces will begin,” Pedro II told the countess of Barral hopefully on February , but no such offensive materialized.76 At this moment, when the emperor was occupied with the war, with the elections to the Chamber of Deputies, and with the reference of the emancipation question to the Council of State, the wisdom of his taking on any new project could be questioned. Pedro II proved unable to resist an undertaking which lay near to his heart. A universal exhibition, following on those of London in  and , was announced to open at Paris on April , . Since Paris was for Pedro II the very center of civilization, he desired that Brazil should make as fine a showing there as possible. A national exposition containing the objects to be sent to Paris was held at Rio and, as Pedro II told the countess of Barral, “it is much more important than that of ,” which had preceded the  Exhibition in London. “The objects which are going there will not dishonor us.”77 To ensure that the national honor was upheld, the emperor undertook in conjunction with members of his inner circle the composition of the guide, printed in three languages, which would be available at the Brazilian pavilion. During February , Pedro II bombarded his collaborators with notes of advice and suggestions as to content: “In respect to slavery should not something suitable be said and with absolute prudence?” He was determined to get the pamphlet sent off by the steamer of February  in time to reach Paris for the exhibition’s opening. “The work won’t be a masterpiece, but it has to be interesting, and accurate at least in its intentions.”78 Pedro II pressed his older sonin-law into service to help correct the proofs. The count d’Eu felt he could not refuse. “But it is a bore of the first order and a heavy task, the emperor having got into his head that this catalogue has to go by the next packet boat,” he informed his father on March . “I would add that this catalogue is very badly done in every aspect.”79 The count d’Eu’s annoyance at being subjected to this unwanted task may have been one reason why he now renewed his application for permission to go to the war. As previously, the application was referred to the Council of State for its opinion, and once again its advice was negative. The count d’Eu suggested that the marquis of Caxias be consulted on the proposal, but “the minister of war declared to me verbally that the government had rejected the idea, because Caxias would have taken it as a suggestion that he offer his resignation.” The count d’Eu commented shrewdly: “What a state of mutual confidence this declaration reveals between minister and general!”80

  

   , ‒ The count d’Eu’s letters to his father in the first half of  remarked repeatedly on the lack of action at the war front. On May  he wrote: “The newspapers will inform you about the singular inertia in which the Brazilian commander in chief continues in Paraguay.”81 Not until late in July  did Caxias finally embark on a coordinated maneuver which attempted to turn the flank of the enemy’s fortifications at Humaitá. This advance, which did restore the initiative to the allies, was not pushed with any vigor, nor did Bartolomé Mitré’s resumption of the supreme command on August  improve matters. However, the allies made appreciable progress in pinning down the Paraguayans behind their fortifications. As the noose tightened on Humaití, Francisco Solano López launched a sudden counterattack on November . In this second battle of Tuyutí the Paraguayans proved unable to sustain their initial advantage and were badly beaten.82 News of these events gave the emperor in Rio great pleasure, and with his customary optimism he wrote to the countess of Barral on December , 7: “The war cannot go on much longer, and Brazil needs quiet with honor and glory.” He was willing to make any sacrifice to achieve this end. In September the government had announced that the imperial couple would, as of March , , give up one-quarter of their annual civil list for the duration of the war, a sacrifice which greatly impressed the British envoy. “His Majesty is very poor, perhaps the poorest sovereign in the world.”83 Similarly, when D. Leopoldina was expecting her second child at Petrópolis, Pedro II would not leave Rio de Janeiro nor, typically, would he permit his wife to go up to Petrópolis without him. As a result, “the empress has had the bitter sorrow of not having arrived in time for the birth,” commented the count d’Eu on December , “and has let fly violent complaints against the emperor.”84 When D. Isabel and her husband moved up to Petrópolis on December , the emperor did not follow them: “I am staying here almost alone,” he told the countess of Barral two days later, “because I ought to do so, since some urgent piece of business may require resolution. The heat is very great; but the countess knows that I have always worked despite it.”85 The emperor’s unyielding belief in victory was about to be rewarded. The death of the Argentine vice president forced Bartolomé Mitre to retire to Buenos Aires, handing over command of the allied forces to the marquis of Caxias in the middle of January . A month later, on February , a squadron of Brazilian warships forced their way up the Paraguay River past the fortress of Humaitá and on the same day the Brazilian army captured a key redoubt on the Paraguay River just north of Humaitá. Encirclement of the fortress was finally complete.86 It was precisely at this moment that a military and political crisis intervened.

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   , ‒ In January, public sentiment, weary of the war, had turned sharply pessimistic. As Pedro II wrote to the countess of Barral on February : “The exchange rate has dropped considerably and in a barometer this announces a tempest. I don’t fear it; but in the household which lacks bread everyone talks and no one is sensible, and a lack of judgment has appeared on a grand scale.”87 As the count d’Eu noted, there was public gossip about disagreements between himself and the emperor over his pleas to go to the war front. The marquis of Caxias’s conduct of the war was roundly attacked by newspapers allied with the ruling cabinet. The lack of any action in the war and the accompanying financial and monetary problems, the count informed his father on February , , “have produced in Brazil a general irritation and a predisposition which cannot be hidden to throw oneself blindly into the unknown in order to escape from the present state of affairs and to accept the most unlikely rumors.”88 On the same day, February , that the count d’Eu wrote his account, the marquis of Caxias sent two letters to the minister of war. The official dispatch requested permission to resign, giving his ill health as the cause. The second and private letter explained that the true motive for his request was the recent attacks on him and his conduct of the war by newspapers associated with the government and the lack of confidence in him recently shown by the cabinet.89 When the letters arrived at Rio on February , they placed the emperor and the ministers in an extremely dangerous situation. Caxias was not just a general. He had twice served as president of the Council of Ministers. He sat in the Senate and was extremely powerful in the Conservative party. He was, moreover, the country’s most distinguished soldier, who could not easily be replaced and whose resignation would do fearful damage to the ministry. On the other hand, Caxias’s implicit price for not resigning was the replacement of the cabinet by a ministry drawn from the Conservative party. This solution was not acceptable to the emperor, who would tolerate no dictation from the military (or anyone else, for that matter) and would countenance no political changes compromising the war effort. On receiving Caxias’s letters, Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos submitted the cabinet’s resignation to the emperor and referred the whole question to the full Council of State. The councilors, who met on February , were asked to advise which resignation should be accepted—the general’s or the ministry’s. The universal response was that neither should take place but that the cabinet should try to reassure Caxias of its confidence and remove all reasons for mistrust. The emperor intervened at this point to insist that the councilors answer the question. The council divided almost evenly, not following party lines, and so gave the emperor grounds for acting in whatever fashion he decided was best.90

  

   , ‒ If information reported by the British envoy can be trusted, the emperor had, prior to the meeting of the Council of State, consulted with the marquis of São Vicente, his confidant among the Conservative leaders, and they had agreed that, if the Conservatives achieved power as a result of Caxias’s demands, their position would never be strong or secure. It was much better that the existing cabinet continue in office until a decisive advantage was gained in the war.91 Accordingly, the leaders of the Conservative party wrote a joint letter to Caxias assuring him of the cabinet’s confidence and of its desire to please, and asking him to remain at his post. The president of the Council of Ministers swallowed his pride and wrote letters filled with praise and promises of cooperation. The general, whose recent successes had made impossible his dismissal, consented to remain.92 The emperor made only an indirect reference to this affair when writing to the countess of Barral on February .93 There is no direct evidence on his viewpoint, but he almost certainly agreed that the ministry should have striven much harder to keep the marquis of Caxias contented and without the slightest cause for threatening to resign.94 The cabinet, already on the defensive by early , was seriously weakened by the crisis. The prospect of power gave the Conservatives, out of office since , both confidence and strength. Their leaders were men of proven ability who enjoyed close relations with the emperor. Their admittance to power would placate Caxias and ensure enhanced efforts to end the war. The Conservative party had one palpable drawback. Its leaders, as a group, had no desire to embark on action on the question of slavery. The existing cabinet was so committed. In October  the British envoy informed his government: The Minister for Foreign Affairs had however frequently assured me during the Session of the Chambers, that directly news should arrive so favorable as to afford a prospect of the conclusion of the war, the Government intended to propose to the Legislature a law for the gradual abolition of slavery. It is to be hoped that the intention may be carried out during the next Session.95

That session was due to open at the start of May . True to the promise to the British envoy, the president of the Council of Ministers pressured the three-man commission created in April  to complete its task. The finished project was presented to the Council of State, which discussed the measure, article by article, in four meetings between April  and May . When the marquis of Olinda tried to oppose the very idea of emancipation, Pedro II intervened to restrict the discussion to the terms of the proposed law. At the end of the four

  

   , ‒ meetings, senator José Tomás Nabuco de Araújo, a leader of the Liberal party, was instructed to revise the draft in light of the amendments adopted and to bring the measure back before the Council of State for final consideration.96 Introduction of the bill into the legislature during the  session was therefore possible, provided that Senator Nabuco completed his task promptly. The Speech from the Throne on May  did promise that a bill for the extinction of slavery would be presented at an appropriate time, but the cabinet soon found that it lacked the authority needed to achieve enactment of such a measure.97 The ministry stood on the defensive with a tenuous hold on office. In Paraguay the siege of Humaitá dragged on. Early in March, President López had withdrawn with a good part of his forces from the fortress and had begun to prepare new defensive positions upstream. Caxias proved unable either to prevent López’s retreat or to subdue the remaining garrison. The cabinet in Rio, in no condition to risk a second confrontation with Caxias, had no choice but to defend his actions and so shared in the popular discontent with the slow pace of the war. The resurgent Conservatives held a majority in the Senate, and they now used it to harass and undermine the ministry without causing its defeat. In the Chamber of Deputies, the radical Liberals led an aggressive opposition which attracted every disaffected deputy. The cabinet lacked the means to resist.98 Its continued existence depended on the emperor’s goodwill, which in turn was conditional on good relations with Caxias. Evidence is lacking as to his mood and concerns at this crucial moment, because the death of the count of Barral on March , , and his widow’s decision to come to Rio, meant that Pedro II wrote his final letter to her on May .99 In July a dispute over the selection of a senator for the province of Rio Grande do Norte abruptly resolved the political impasse. When senate vacancies occurred, popular election produced a list of three candidates from which the emperor, using the regulating power, selected the future senator. In the case of the Rio Grande do Norte vacancy, two of the three candidates were local politicians, but the third, who had received the most votes, was Francisco de Sales Tôrres Homem, a senior national politician. His father was a priest and his mother a street vendor, a former slave probably born in Africa. By his own abilities Tôrres Homem had secured first a medical training and then a law degree from Paris. He had achieved eminence in journalism, administration, and politics. Originally a radical, he had become a strong Conservative who had served as minister of finance at the end of the s.100 Of the three candidates, Tôrres Homem possessed, in the emperor’s judgment, the qualities required in a senator, and he selected him on July . Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos, the president of the Council of Ministers, strongly

  

   , ‒ objected, claiming that the nomination demonstrated a lack of confidence in his government, and insisting on the selection of another candidate. Pedro II refused to give way. Under the  constitution he was not accountable for his use of the regulating power, and, further, Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos had appointed Tôrres Homem to be both a councilor of state and president of the Bank of Brazil. Faced by Pedro II’s refusal, the president of the Council of Ministers offered his resignation, which the emperor accepted. “I respectfully requested that he excuse me from suggesting names [of possible successors], and after a long silence he ordered me to summon to the palace of São Cristóvão the viscount of Itaboraí to be entrusted with the organization of a new ministry.”101 Since Itaboraí, president of the Council of Ministers in –, was head of the Conservatives, the summons meant the ejection of the Liberals from power. Many years later Pedro II explained the motive underlying his refusal to maintain the cabinet in office: “It was due to a desire to end the war with the greatest honor and advantage (in terms of our external relations) for Brazil that I did not give way on the choice of the senator. The Liberal ministry was unable to continue with Caxias remaining at the head of the army.”102 The count d’Eu, writing to his father on July , surmised that “at the bottom of the affair was the question of the commander in chief of the army in Paraguay.”103 The emperor, in other words, saw the maintenance of Caxias as commander in chief as the key to winning the war, a goal which for him took precedence over all else. It was this resolve which explains the political upheaval caused by Pedro II’s decisive action. As the count d’Eu perceptively noted: “The emperor has acted in a fashion contrary both to his own character and to parliamentary usage.”104 Since the two factions of the Liberal party—the Progressistas under Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos and the radicals among whom Téofilo Ottoni was the most eminent—together controlled the Chamber of Deputies, it would have been more politic and indeed more constitutional if the emperor had sought to form a cabinet based on those elements. Certainly the radical Liberals were avid for power.105 The difficulty was that no obvious alternative leader to Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos existed among the Liberal factions. Any new cabinet of that political color would have aroused savage opposition from Zacarias and his supporters, while Caxias would probably have at once resigned as commander in chief. The inability of any Liberal politician to construct a stable ministry commanding firm support from the Liberal majority provided Pedro II with ample justification for turning to the Conservatives. The emperor had clearly lost faith in the capacity of the Liberals to wage the war effectively. Nor can he have believed that any Liberal cabinet had the ability to carry a measure attacking slavery through the legislature. The project which

  

   , ‒ the Council of State had discussed and largely approved in April was available as the blueprint for enactment whenever a change in the political scene made action possible. “I do not desist from the project on the servile element which can be presented at the opportune moment,” the emperor wrote. “According to the opinion given by the viscount of Itaboraí in the Council of State, it is no longer possible to backtrack. I maintain that discussion of the project in the Council of State should be concluded. It needs this final general debate.”106 Admitting the Conservatives to power did not therefore, in Pedro II’s view, set back the cause of abolition in any significant way. The ministry formed by the viscount of Itaboraí was a far abler body than the cabinet it replaced. Of the seven ministers, five had already served in previous cabinets, and two of them in the Conciliação ministry. José Maria da Silva Paranhos, viscount of Rio Branco, and João Maurício Wanderley, baron of Cotegipe, resumed the portfolios they had held under Paraná. Rio Branco’s agreeable manners, intellectual interests, and success as a minister and a diplomat caused Pedro II to view him with favor. Since he lacked both wealth and social connections, Rio Branco depended crucially in his career on the emperor’s goodwill. No less able than his colleague, Cotegipe was much more complex and independent in character and outlook. A large landowner in Bahia province thanks to an advantageous marriage, Cotegipe increasingly identified with the traditional agricultural interests of the northeast.107 The new cabinet’s prospects were greatly improved by news arriving from the war front in Paraguay. The inner fortress of Humaitá fell on July , , and Caxias at once began to prepare an attack on President López’s new line of defenses at Pikysyry, to the south of Paraguay’s capital city of Asunción. The allied troops reached this line at the end of September. Caxias then undertook a vast turning movement by means of a road cut through the forests and swamps of the Chaco region. At the start of December this road was completed, and the Brazilian army emerged at the rear of the Paraguayans. In three successive battles Caxias decisively defeated López, who withdrew with his remaining forces into the eastern interior of the country. The Paraguayan capital was occupied on January , .108 These triumphs in Paraguay were purchased at a high political cost within Brazil. Ejection from power had the effect of unifying the warring Liberal factions. The Senate passed a motion of confidence in the new Conservative ministry, but in the lower house the reunited Liberals defeated it by a vote of ninety to eight. The vote did not force the cabinet to resign. Instead, on July , the emperor signed a decree dissolving the Chamber of Deputies and ordering elections for a new house.109 As to the outcome of such elections nobody could be in

  

   , ‒ doubt. The government would win hands down. A speech made by the Liberal senator Nabuco de Araújo in the upper house on July  pinpointed this fundamental flaw in the political system: Now tell me: isn’t this a farce? Isn’t this true absolutism in view of the state in which elections exist in our country? Consider this fatal sorites [chain of argument], this sorites which destroys the existence of the representative system—the regulating power can summon whomever it wants to organize a ministry; that person rigs the elections, because he cannot but to do so; that election provides the majority. There you have the representative system in our country.110

What added to the gravity of the situation was that the legislature had not, prior to its dissolution, voted supply—the laws authorizing both expenditures and revenues for the new financial year beginning on July , . As a result, the government would be collecting taxes and spending moneys without a shadow of legal right until the new legislature met on May , , some ten months later.111 The crisis had the appearance, and to a certain extent the reality, of revealing the political system of Brazil as nothing more than a puppet show manipulated from above by the emperor. As the British envoy pointed out, friends of the monarchy in Brazil “view with unfeigned regret” these developments “that may tend to lend strength to the republican party, already forming in the Empire, and furthered in every possible manner by the Press of the United States.”112 The discontents which the events of July  produced, including an incipient republican party, were intensified by the new government’s internal policies. It carried out a systematic purge of its opponents from positions of authority, and it used every means, from force to fraud, to win the legislative elections. The Liberal opposition, struggling to organize itself and to produce a coherent program, decided to recommend to its supporters that they abstain from voting. By so acting the Liberals hoped both to show the illegitimacy of the electoral process and to conserve their forces for a more favorable moment. Due to this abstention and to their own coercive measures, the Conservatives succeeded in January  in electing a chamber composed entirely of their supporters.113 Pedro II no doubt deplored, as he always did deplore, the violence and fraud that marred the elections. The blame for that violence and fraud he could not ascribe, as was his custom, to the lack of education among Brazilians. He had to bear a major part of the responsibility.114 In a sense, Pedro II had made in July  a Faustian bargain. He had secured the prospect of total victory in the war with Paraguay, but at the cost of allowing his authority to be overtly employed to favor one of the competing political factions. As a consequence, the impartial-

  

   , ‒ ity of the monarchy was gravely compromised, and its stability visibly undermined as never before. If Pedro II was conscious of those consequences, the prospect of losing his throne caused him no fears. The emperor’s duties as a Brazilian citizen caused him in July  to place the interests of the country (as he, as Brazil’s ruler, perceived them) ahead of the perpetuation of the monarchy. He appears to have felt no qualms about his actions and, a decade later, wrote nostalgically: “What good times were those of the fall of Humaitá. I was never so happy as then!”115 His cheerful, even buoyant state of mind in July  was in good part due to the countess of Barral’s presence in Rio de Janeiro, where she was settling her husband’s estate. Her widowhood made the countess the more desirable, and Pedro II no longer had to restrain the expression of his ardor. “I would be even happier in my friendship [amitié] for you if I were even able to make you the happiest of women.” As ever, he simply ignored D. Teresa Cristina’s claims on his emotions.116 All good things come to an end. The letter to the countess was sent to her on the eve of her departure from Rio. “I am not able to reconcile myself to the idea of once again existing—for how long?—far from you.” But the countess of Barral, having settled her husband’s affairs, could not be dissuaded from returning to Europe.117 The emperor suffered a second deception shortly after the occupation of Asunción on January , . The marquis of Caxias, elderly, sick, and exhausted, lost heart when faced with—in the words of the count d’Eu to his father—“the abominable task of chasing López God knows where.” When his request for permission to retire from his post or at least to be given three months’ leave was not granted, he simply handed over command of the Brazilian forces to the most senior officer present and on January  left Asunción.118 Caxias’s offense was compounded in the emperor’s eyes by his issuing an order of the day which declared the war to be over. By his words and his example, Caxias encouraged both officers and men to pack up and go home, regardless of the fact that López was still at large and rebuilding his forces in eastern Paraguay. Since the battles of December  had left many of Brazil’s best generals dead or wounded, a dangerous vacuum existed in the high command at Asunción. In sum, the whole war effort threatened to grind to a halt on the eve of total victory. The immediate problem was how to handle Caxias on his arrival at Rio and how to find a competent replacement for him. Caxias’s return to Rio was treated as though he were a private individual, with no official reception and no public expression of gratitude. Caxias paid no visit to the emperor, nor did the emperor visit him. This response reveals the depth of the emperor’s chagrin and disappointment. The emperor and the ministry became locked in a fierce face-off over the handling of the returned general.119 In any event, the emperor’s innate good sense prevailed over his resent-

  

   , ‒ ment. On February , Caxias finally came to the palace, and D. Teresa Cristina’s diary recorded the outcome. “This evening the marquis and marchioness of Caxias visited. After having spent a long time with the emperor, the marquis came to pay his court to me, I being with the marchioness and D. Josefina [da Fonseca Costa, the lady-in-waiting]. The emperor in my presence gave him the campaign medal and asked me to pin it on the marquis’s chest.”120 Shortly thereafter Caxias’s actions as commander in chief were confirmed, and he was raised in title from marquis to duke. The quarrel was composed, but the second part of the problem—finding a new commander in chief—had still to be resolved. Pedro II’s son-in-law possessed the status and the prestige, plus a sufficiency of military experience, to undertake the task. Requesting him to accept the position required on the emperor’s part a willingness to eat humble pie. Since the count d’Eu had in August  made his first request to serve with the armed forces against Paraguay, all five of his petitions had been rejected.121 These rebuffs had strained relations between the emperor and the count. The radical Liberals had persistently attempted to give these perceived disagreements a political coloring and, by espousing the cause of the count d’Eu, to use the dispute to advance their own interests.122 Another and very different reason also existed for tension between the two men. Whereas D. Leopoldina had by  produced two children, D. Isabel gave no sign of conceiving. An atmosphere of disappointment and reproach was evident. “Isabel and Gastão intend to make a good excursion, going out by Nova Friburgo and returning by Campos,” Pedro II told the countess of Barral in May . “God grant that it produces a useful upset in the organism of my daughter.”123 In August the couple traveled to the spa of Lambarí in Minas Gerais, where the waters were said to be effective in cases of sterility. “And how are you doing, taking the Virtuous Waters?” inquired the countess of Barral in September. “I want to send you from Paris a prescription which did me much good and which Y. I. H. can take after consulting your doctor if you suffer from the complaint from which I suffered and which prevented me from having children.”124 Neither the waters nor the remedy, if taken, made D. Isabel pregnant, either at once or following her return to Rio de Janeiro at the start of . The emperor could not expect his son-in-law, after repeated rebuffs and exclusion from the conduct of public affairs, to be receptive to an urgent request that he immediately assume the command of Brazilian forces in Paraguay. It was one of Pedro II’s strengths, however, that he did not flinch from unpleasant tasks. His letter of February , , reveals much about the emperor’s outlook and methods:

  

   , ‒ Dear Son, Caxias has requested to be removed as head of the army, and a few days ago it was recognized that Guilherme Xavier de Sousa will not be a suitable successor. In these circumstances I proposed you for this position; because I trust in your patriotism and initiative. The government, which thinks as I do in respect to you and that it is necessary to free, as quickly as possible, Paraguay from the presence of López, has decided that it ought to grant Caxias’s resignation and to appoint you.

The letter went on to assure the count d’Eu that he would hold the same powers as Caxias had done. He was to leave diplomatic questions in the hands of the minister of foreign affairs, who had been serving on special mission to the war front since the start of the year. The count could take whichever officers he liked with him. “Your departure should be prompt and a steamship awaits orders. I don’t doubt, not for one moment, that you will lend yourself to such a relevant service.” With the intent of bringing his son-in-law swiftly from Petrópolis to Rio, Pedro II offered him use of the imperial steam barge across Guanabara Bay. The letter ended: “When you ask me for transport, it will be the sign that you are resolved to satisfy the desires which I greatly regret not having been able to gratify immediately on your requesting to go to the war front.”125 As the count d’Eu wrote to his father about receiving Pedro II’s letter: “You can imagine my astonishment which was not a little mixed with defiance. You will also note in the last sentence of the letter the ruse by which the Emperor stated that he would take as a declaration of acceptance on my part a telegraphed request that I should send him to use his steam barge to cross the bay!”126 The next day, using public transportation, the count d’Eu went down to São Cristóvão. There he spent three hours contending with the emperor. While not unwilling to accept in principle, the count was not moved from his refusal to be rushed into giving his consent. He pointed out that he had been excluded from all information about the affairs of Paraguay. The viscount of Rio Branco, then on special mission in Asunción, had most strongly objected in the Council of State to the count’s petitions to go to the war front. If his appointment were made without the minister being consulted, the count d’Eu pointed out that the latter might take offense and resign. “Finally the dinner hour arrived and I carried the point, not however without the Emperor retaining a vague hope that making me reconsider what he called my lack of faith, falta de fé.”127 In the ensuing and involved negotiations, the count d’Eu forced his unwilling father-in-law to refer the question of his appointment to the Council of State. The count also insisted on obtaining the minister of foreign affairs’ consent to

  

   , ‒ his nomination. Not until March  was a favorable response received from Rio Branco. The count d’Eu then yielded. His appointment and Caxias’s resignation were published on March , . Writing to his father, the new commander in chief reported: “When yesterday I went to São Cristóvão some hours after having given my decision in writing to the emperor, he greeted me with extreme satisfaction. I have never observed him in an equal state of happiness.”128 No wonder, for the emperor had once again gotten his way. At the start of his command, the appointment of the count d’Eu worked out well. Arriving at Asunción on April , he began the task of reorganizing and reequipping the Brazilian forces for a final campaign against the Paraguayan president. López had made the best use possible of the long months of inaction by the Brazilian forces. He had created in eastern Paraguay a new army out of the few men and resources left to him after the defeats of December . López established himself behind the cordillera, lying to the east of Asunción, and sought to hold the passes through that range of hills.129 In the first days of August , three and a half months after arriving, the count d’Eu set the Brazilian forces in motion and undertook a sweeping turning movement around the southern end of López’s front line. The troops pushed their way through the poorly defended passes in the cordillera and advanced on the positions of the Paraguayan army. After a defeat at Piribebuy, López pulled his troops back to the north but was caught on the march and suffered a severe defeat with heavy losses at Campo Grande in eastern Paraguay on August . The Brazilians failed, however, in their plans to encircle the Paraguayan forces and capture López himself.130 With few men and less armaments, López now lacked the means of carrying on conventional warfare. He could not maintain even the pretense of a government. His determination to continue fighting was, nonetheless, undimmed, and his conduct became ever more ruthless and bloody. Harassed by the Brazilian forces, he steadily withdrew his few hundred remaining troops into the wilderness that was northern Paraguay. The conflict became little more than the hunting down of the man who still claimed to be Paraguay’s president.131 In carrying out this task, which lasted for seven months, the Brazilian army ran into extreme difficulties. By September  it had outrun its supply lines at the very moment when the commissariat, entrusted to private contractors, was not functioning effectively. In September and October, Brazilian units experienced actual starvation. Further, the Brazilian forces were not organized or trained for the task they now faced. It took some time to create an effective intelligence system and to organize the flying columns which could swiftly exploit information that the new intelligence system gathered about López’s movements.132

  

   , ‒

Figure . Gaston, count d’Eu, commander in chief of the Brazilian forces in Paraguay, surrounded by his staff. Immediately right of the count are Alfredo d’Escragnolle Taunay, future senator and viscount of Taunay, and then, in light trousers, José Maria da Silva Paranhos, viscount of Rio Branco, senator, and minister of foreign affairs

These problems and the nature of the task required a commander in chief endowed with cool nerves, resilient in the face of adversity, and able to reassure and inspire subordinates. Such characteristics were not among the many good qualities that the count d’Eu possessed. Having shown exemplary energy and drive in preparing and carrying out the campaign of the cordillera, the commander in chief now lost heart in the face of his new task. “It was at Caacupé that there appeared this tendency of the prince to be irritable,” recorded a member of his staff, “which soon after transmuted into melancholy and attacks of complete apathy which his physician, Dr. Ribeiro de Almeida, combated as far as he could.”133 Like Caxias before him, the count d’Eu wanted the war to be declared at an end and his own return home to be authorized. He expressed these ideas with insistence to his father-in-law, to the minister of war, and to the minister of foreign affairs, who was stationed at Asunción, guiding the governing junta installed there and overseeing the conduct of the war.134 Pedro II showed endless patience with the demands and complaints of his son-in-law, using every wile and persuasion to keep him commanding the Brazilian forces until López was captured. Persuaded by the emperor, the two ministers worked to the same end, although with less forbearance and understanding than their sovereign.135 The weeks wore by as the pursuit of the fugitive president continued. Finally, on March , , a flying column caught López unaware

  

   , ‒ at his encampment at Cerro Corá, and in the ensuing combat the sometime president conveniently perished.136 Five years and five months had passed since President Francisco Solano López of Paraguay had seized the Brazilian steamer Marquês de Olinda and set the two nations on a collision course. From the start Pedro II had believed, as he told the countess of Barral in November , that “the war should be concluded as honor demands, cost what it cost.”137 Difficulties, setbacks, and war weariness had no effect on his quiet resolve. The mounting total of dead and wounded deterred him not at all. His cause, which was the cause of Brazil, was just, and to the triumph of that cause he was willing to sacrifice everything, even his throne. Finding some eighty thousand troops needed to fight the war had seriously undermined the imperial regime. The financial costs had come very high, although the war certainly stimulated the economy and promoted development. Without the emperor Brazil would not have persevered and secured the elimination of López. Brazilians, whose sense of national identity had been enhanced by the long and bloody struggle, acknowledged this fact. In April  the British envoy commented on “the general feeling, that the persistence of Brazil in carrying on the war to its close, was due to the determination of the Emperor.”138 A large sum was raised by popular subscription for the erection of a commemorative statue of the emperor. Pedro II made it clear that he would prefer the money to be used for building schools, and his wish was obeyed.139 The war left no question as to Pedro II’s supremacy within the system. His sonin-law now acknowledged that supremacy. On March , the very day that he learned of López’s death, the count d’Eu wrote to Pedro II: “At this moment of so great and so unexpected emotion I cannot fail to think of Y. M. and to kiss your hand, asking you to forgive me for my lapses in faith and other childish acts as your loving and submissive son.”140 On the morning of April , , the count d’Eu arrived at Rio de Janeiro. “The disembarkation took place at  o’clock. It was indescribable. It wasn’t enthusiasm; it was delirium. You had to struggle to keep your feet on the ground. We moved through the compact mass of the National Guard, archers, courtiers to the Imperial Chapel where a Te Deum was sung.” So wrote André Rebouças in his diary, and the count d’Eu agreed: “It was a really beautiful day. You cannot have an idea of the excitement which existed throughout the entire city of Rio. During four consecutive evenings, there was not a single house which was not illuminated. Finally the enthusiasm has died down and we have been able to remain quietly at home where we don’t think of anything else but of resting.”141 The count d’Eu had earned his right to relaxation and recovery, and it might be thought that the same applied to the emperor. The reality was quite other-

  

   , ‒ wise. Having successfully resolved one of the twin crises facing Brazil from  onward, he was already at work seeking to attain his second goal. Two days after his son-in-law’s return, while the celebrations were still in full force, Pedro II wrote to the president of the Council of Ministers: Sr. Itaboraí, I don’t know when the Chambers will meet; but it is necessary for me to have time to examine the draft Speech from the Throne. For the reasons that I have explained to you, among which you are well aware that my personal viewpoint has but minor importance, I think that it would be a great mistake if the government did not say something on the question of emancipation in the Speech from the Throne. My essential ideas are those which the baron of São João do Príncipe [a landowner in Rio province] voluntarily put into practice. . . . I need not add that everything I have just written is to be known only by the ministry, which I very much hope will agree with me in the need which I have already expressed to you about saying something in the Speech from the Throne on this subject, which seems to occupy everyone except the government.142

Understated, polite but firm, the emperor’s letter was nothing less than a warning shot across the Conservative cabinet’s bow. The ministers took no heed of the warning. The draft Speech from the Throne as presented to the emperor contained no reference to the question of slavery. This draft the emperor and the cabinet discussed at two special despachos on Wednesday and Thursday, May  and . On the morning of May , the baron of Cotegipe, the minister of the navy and the acting minister of foreign affairs, wrote up an account of what had passed. It is a revealing document.143 According to Cotegipe’s account, the emperor opened the discussion by stating that, while he found the draft generally good, it omitted any mention of slavery. He had agreed in the previous session of  that no reference to the subject should be made because of the war, but the matter now needed to be dealt with in order to tranquilize the landowners. He recommended the proposals discussed in the Council of State in  and . “Knowing as he did the collective opinion of the cabinet, he wanted to hear the individual opinion of the ministers.” These opinions were then given. The ministers concurred in stating that no agreement existed among them as to what measures might be taken, and accordingly “those who possessed such plans should undertake the proposed reform and not we. Here H. M. observed (and at times he interrupted whoever was speaking with other observations) that a solution presented by the Conservatives would be the most acceptable to the plantation owners. To which it was

  

   , ‒ replied that to do this the Conservatives had to have a plan and this is what they lacked.” In the end the emperor secured from two ministers statements in favor of including in the Speech from the Throne a mention of the topic of slavery, while four were opposed.144 The baron of Cotegipe’s memorandum summarized his own reasons for opposing Pedro II’s suggestion, starting with the observation “that we had accepted the ministry on the condition that we did not touch on this question,” and ending with the remark that he himself believed the question to have become serious, “because everybody believed that the impulse came from H. M. who, having and rightfully having great effect on opinion, carried with him the undecided and all those who thought thus to gain his favor; and that I had always opposed the government showing a determination to resolve the question. . . . N.B. When I said that I had opposed it, H. M. interrupted me with: ‘and what is more, declaring that you would oppose to the extent of taking up your rifle.’” The baron of Cotegipe responded to Pedro II by denying that he had ever made such a remark. He also denied being opposed to emancipation as such. Humanitarian ideals had to give way to economic realities.145 Blocked on his proposal for a direct mention of slavery, the emperor next proceeded to suggest to the ministers that the passage in the draft speech, which referred to “the provision of labor for agriculture, the principal source of our wealth,” should be amended to read “free labor.” To this change the ministers (unwisely, as they found) consented. With that the meeting adjourned to the following day. The baron of Cotegipe commented: Note: () that a ministerial document was discussed so much by the Crown; () the taking of individual opinions when the Cabinet only has collective ones in such cases and so presents them. (Written on the night of  of May.) PS When in this meeting it was said that the question of emancipation resembled a boulder tumbling down the mountainside and that we should not start it rolling since we would be crushed, H. M. replied that he did not hesitate to expose himself to the fall, even if he were “crushed”! And Brazil? That’s the question. . . . [sic]146

The next day, May , when the discussion of the draft resumed, the emperor sought to gain his goal indirectly by suggesting that, since the ministers had agreed to speak of “free labor,” the phrase should be further altered to read “the material and moral development of the Empire . . . depends upon free labor applied to agriculture.” Free labor was desired by everyone, the emperor contended, and including the idea in the speech did not compromise the government. The ministers objected that the proposed amendment implicitly condemned slavery, and therefore they could not accept it.147

  

   , ‒ The cabinet’s resistance set back the cause of emancipation. The ministers were refusing to honor the pledge of action which had been publicly given to the French Committee for the Abolition of Slavery in August  and confirmed by the debates in the Council of State in  and . The reverse did not disconcert Pedro II. He made clear to the ministers that he maintained his ideas on the subject and that he would seek to implement them by publicly applying the principle of free birth to the slaves in his household. This statement caused considerable alarm among the ministers. “The baron of Muritiba pointed out very respectfully that in our system H. M. could not carry out what he had proposed.” The baron of Cotegipe concurred in this opinion and went further in remarking: “That H. M. did not have the right which he claimed to have (and in this all the ministers agreed).” All that the cabinet would concede on the point was that Pedro II could free the offspring of his household slaves at birth but only on an individual basis. “H. M. responded that so long as ‘he judged it necessary to keep ministers in office,’ he always submitted to their opinion, and in the present case he would do so,” but that he would not refrain from freeing at birth the children of his household slaves.148 The ministers had no choice but to assent to Pedro II’s proposed course of action, insisting, however, that it not be presented as a statement of policy by the emperor.149 The cabinet carried its point. The Speech from the Throne read by the emperor on May , , contained no reference to emancipation. This victory did little to maintain slavery, which was rapidly becoming indefensible. The ministry had itself undermined the status quo by facilitating in  passage through the lower house of a measure (originally voted by the Senate in ) prohibiting the public sale of slaves and the splitting up of slave families.150 Further, the ministers had taken no steps to disavow the action of the count d’Eu when, in September , he had virtually ordered the provisional government of Paraguay, set up by the Allies at Asunción, to grant immediate freedom to such slaves as still existed in that country and to abolish the institution.151 Finally, the ministers’ refusal to act was discredited by developments in Spain. In May  the Spanish government introduced a bill which declared free all slave children born in its colonies from September , , onward and manumitted all slaves aged sixty and over. The free-born were to remain under tutelage (and so compelled to work unpaid) until the age of twenty-two. Presented in the Cortes on May , the bill passed into law on July . Brazil found itself alone in maintaining slavery unchanged.152 The ministers swiftly realized that their victory over the Speech from the Throne was Pyrrhic. Their refusal to cooperate lost them the emperor’s confidence. Pedro II made no attempt to keep secret the disagreement, emboldening the cabinet’s opponents to move against it. On May , a well-connected deputy, the nephew and son-in-law of the marquis of Paraná, submitted a parliamentary

  

   , ‒ question to the president of the council concerning the cabinet’s policy toward slavery and emancipation. The viscount of Itaboraí responded that, in view of the dangerous nature of the question, all action should be left to private initiative. The futility of the reply and the unconvincing and confused manner in which it was delivered encouraged further attack. On May , the same deputy presented a motion for the appointment of a special committee to study the slave question. The cabinet had no choice but to let the motion pass. The special committee was duly appointed.153 The cabinet lost prestige by the setback in the legislature. Pedro II further undercut the ministry’s position by refusing to select a former member of the cabinet to fill a Senate vacancy. Only by threatening to resign did the cabinet force the emperor to change his choice. At this moment the viscount of Itaboraí, the president of the council, probably on his own initiative and not wishing to offer further resistance to Pedro II on the subject of slavery, approached the marquis of São Vicente, a senior member of the Conservative party. He suggested that São Vicente prepare at a future date to replace him as first minister. Itaboraí belonged to the political generation that had taken power in  but which had willingly relinquished direction of affairs to Pedro II in . He accepted the emperor’s supremacy and would conform to the monarch’s wishes when so required. The marquis of São Vicente, who belonged to the same generation, did not question the role assigned to him. He conferred with the emperor and put out feelers to possible members of a new cabinet.154 Being thus assured of his ability to replace the sitting cabinet, the emperor made abundantly clear to the ministers that they no longer enjoyed his support. He withheld from them information about his own plans, in particular, his intention of visiting Europe in . Such an absence from Brazil required the prior consent of the legislature; by failing to consult the cabinet about sponsoring the necessary bill, the emperor made clear his belief that the ministry would not still be in power when the next legislative session opened.155 Meanwhile the special committee of inquiry into slavery created in May issued its report on August . It advocated emancipation at birth of the children of slaves and it presented a draft bill incorporating its recommendations.156 These events created a widespread assumption that the cabinet was going to be replaced, an assumption which became self-fulfilling. The ministers’ confidence and coherence diminished and, even more importantly, they lost control of the legislative process. On September , shortly before the session closed, they reached a unanimous decision to resign.157 The emperor was forced to turn to the marquis of São Vicente sooner than he had intended, and the new president of the council faced some difficulty in completing his cabinet. The customary set of instructions, which Pedro II gave

  

   , ‒ to the new president of the council on September , recommended among several measures reform of the police and judicial system. “Another legislative measure which is of equal urgency . . . is that which refers to the servile element.”158 In the speech which closed the legislative session on October , , Pedro II was able to make reference to the enactment in the coming session of measures then under consideration “and especially those which the nation most instantly demands and which, meeting all just interests, will satisfy the vital necessities of our social order.”159 Emancipation of the slaves was once again, as the emperor desired, a prime goal of the government. The achievement of this goal proved not so easy as Pedro II desired. The marquis of São Vicente possessed neither the standing nor the connections in politics requisite in the head of a cabinet, especially one who was committed to enacting a controversial reform. He could not keep his colleagues in order or manage the conduct of business. Due to its lack of prestige, coherence, and experience in governing, the new cabinet soon ran into problems. By the end of , São Vicente had lost heart and was asking to be replaced. The emperor, determined to move ahead with the planned reforms, especially that on slavery, at first tried to keep the ministry in office but agreed at the start of  to try an alternative solution. The viscount of Rio Branco, the minister of foreign affairs in the Itaboraí cabinet, had gone early in  to the war front in order to defuse the diplomatic problems arising from the occupation of Asunción. On December , , São Vicente wrote to him that the emperor wished him to return at once to Rio de Janeiro since he had been designated to organize a cabinet. Rio Branco eventually complied, arriving on February .160 As Pedro II wrote to his son-in-law, Rio Branco “is trying to organize a new ministry and in perfect accord with me in respect to the reforms, one of which is that of the servile element.”161 Despite having been unfavorable toward the projects for slave emancipation presented in  to the Council of State, Rio Branco had now become a stalwart supporter of the proposal. His cabinet, formed on March , , was mainly composed of young and capable politicians. Pedro II had no hesitation, once the cabinet was formed, in pursuing his long-standing plans for a ten-month visit to Europe. By removing himself from the country during the discussion of the proposed law to give freedom at birth to the children of slaves, he prevented the measure’s foes from claiming that his presence was precluding frank discussion in the legislature. His absence also served to discourage opposition. It was widely rumored that, should the project fail of passage, the emperor would abdicate and not return to Brazil, thus leaving the country in the hands of an inexperienced female not yet twenty-five.162 To these political reasons for the emperor’s absenting himself could be

  

   , ‒ added personal factors. By  Pedro II had been in charge of Brazil’s affairs for over thirty years without any respite beyond his two visits to Rio Grande do Sul in  and  and his visit to the northeast in –. The Paraguayan War had left him drained and exhausted. Then came the sudden death of his younger daughter. In March  he received news that on February , D. Leopoldina, aged only twenty-three, had succumbed at Vienna to typhoid fever. She left behind four small sons, the youngest not yet six months old. “I am persisting with the journey,” Pedro II wrote to the count d’Eu on March , “above all for the sake of your mother[-in-law], whom fortunately I have been able to cheer up, largely through the idea of this journey.”163 On May , , D. Isabel and her husband, who had been themselves visiting Europe, reached Rio. The legislative session opened three days later, with the Speech from the Throne proclaiming in respect to slavery that “it is time to resolve this question.”164 On the same day, Pedro II gave to his daughter his thoughts on the task of governing in his absence. “My daughter, an intelligent sense of duty is our best guide,” the text began, “however, the councils of your Father will be of assistance to you.” Divided into eight parts—“Elections,” “Administration,” “Public Education,” “Communication Routes and Colonization Emancipation,” “Army and Navy,” “External Relations,” “Relations with the Ministry,” and “Regulating Power and Executive Power”—the document closed with a number of last-minute thoughts under the heading “Reminders.”165 A bill authorizing the emperor to leave Brazil and recognizing D. Isabel as regent with all of her father’s powers passed rapidly through the legislature and was promulgated on May . On May , Pedro II, D. Teresa Cristina, and a suite of fifteen, including two of Pedro II’s most trusted intimates, Nicolau Antônio Nogueira Vale da Gama and the viscount of Bom Retiro, embarked on the steamer for Lisbon.166 Pedro II’s ten months in Europe was, first and foremost, a time of release and freedom.167 He traveled in strict incognito, styling himself “D. Pedro d’Alcântara,” and he insisted on being treated with informality, refusing to stay anywhere except in hotels. On the other hand, he behaved as a private individual in Europe in precisely the same fashion he did as emperor in Brazil. He did exactly what he wanted, taking not the least notice of the expense or the inconvenience to others. His days were spent in endless and exhausting sightseeing and in encounters with anyone of intellectual repute. He had the happiness of meeting, for the first time since April , his stepmother, D. Amélia. After disembarking at Lisbon, “I went at once to the Janelas Verdes Palace. I cried from happiness and also from sorrow seeing my Mother so affectionate toward me but so aged and so sick.”168 They spent an hour together. Another pleasure for Pedro II was his reunion with the countess of Barral, who joined the imperial party on

  

   , ‒

Figure . D. Isabel about the time of her first regency, ‒

the French border on June . Three days later the travelers reached London. On July , the imperial couple went to Windsor Castle, where they were received by Queen Victoria. “He is very tall, broad, and stout, a fine looking man, but very gray, though only ,” wrote the queen in her journal. “The Empress (a P.ss of Naples) is very kind & pleasing, so simple and unassuming. She is short & lame.” The following day Queen Victoria went up to London, visiting them in return at Claridges Hotel. “The Emperor goes about everywhere & sees everything, but does not go into society. He gets up at , & is already out at !! He spoke very kindly and wisely, with the greatest appreciation of our institutions, which he said England had fought to obtain in past centuries. He is very simple in his tastes and likes ‘la vie de famille.’ He means to visit Scotland on account of Walter Scott whom he so much admires and then to go to Vienna & Coburg to visit the grave of their poor daughter & on to Italy.”169 After England came Belgium, the Rhineland, Hamburg, Berlin, Dresden, Coburg, where D. Leopoldina lay buried, and finally Carlsbad, the Bohemian spa where the travelers spent three weeks so that the empress could take the

  

   , ‒ waters.170 The party went on to Munich and then Vienna, where Pedro II met his cousin, the emperor Francis Joseph. The encounter was not a success. Pedro II “dispatched my emperor after five minutes, saying that as a tourist he was too occupied to spend more time on him,” an Austrian diplomat reported. “The emperor Francis Joseph told me this story, adding that his cousin of Brazil was the greatest flegel [ill-bred person] he had ever met.”171 From Vienna the emperor and his party continued on to Italy and sailed for Egypt on October . While Pedro II was thus enjoying himself in Europe, the viscount of Rio Branco and his fellow ministers found themselves faced with a bitter and exhausting fight to enact what was in reality a very cautious emancipation measure. Children born to slave women were legally made free persons [ingenuos], and the owners of their mothers were obliged to raise the offspring until aged eight. Then the owners could either renounce the services of the ingenuos, receiving an indemnification, or retain use of their services until they reached the age of twenty-one. The measure included some provision for compulsory freeing of some categories of slaves, created an emancipation fund for the future annual purchase and freeing of slaves, and ordered a national registration of all slaves.172 The government’s bill, introduced into the Chamber of Deputies on May , met with a determined opposition, which commanded support from about onethird of the deputies and which sought to organize public opinion against the measure. The government was able to force the project through the lower house only by the repeated use of closure motions. Not until the end of August did the measure receive its final reading and go up to the Senate. Writing to his fatherin-law on September , the count d’Eu noted that “the senators (with the exception of Itaboraí, Muritiba and one or two others) seem impatient to approve it in the ten days which remain in the session.”173 In fact the debate lasted rather longer than that, but on September , , the Senate passed the bill, which was signed by D. Isabel the next day. One month later Pedro II received the news on his arrival at Alexandria. The viscount of Itaúna, a long-time member of the emperor’s inner circle at court, described the scene to the viscount of Rio Branco: Immediately on landing, the emperor received two telegrams, one from Florence and the other from Milan, informing him that the law on the servile element had passed the Senate and had already been sanctioned. As soon as he read this telegram, His Majesty ran up to me, gave me it to read, embraced me, and with a real explosion of pleasure said the following: “Write immediately to Rio Branco, sending him this embrace which I give you; and tell him in the most positive terms that I am beholden to him and would like to

  

   , ‒

Figure . Pedro II at the pyramids in Egypt in November . On the far right are D. Josefina da Fonseca Costa; Luís Pedreira do Couto Ferraz, viscount of Bom Retiro; and D. Teresa Cristina

embrace him now in person, which I will do as soon as I see him on my return. Tell him further that I consider him to be ‘my man,’ in whom I place every confidence and hope that I can have, cherishing the belief that he will not abandon me in the great amount that we have to undertake; tell him also that he can count on me as I am pleased to count on him.”174

He might have missed some part of these instructions, the viscount of Itaúna continued, “never having seen the emperor give way to so unrestrained an outpouring.” The intensity of Pedro II’s response was explicable. He had now achieved both the goals which since  he had so relentlessly pursued despite all discouragements and setbacks. For the moment he stood supreme in his country’s affairs.175

  

 

Heirs and Enemies, 1871–76

 When Pedro II sailed from Rio de Janeiro on May , , to enjoy ten months of freedom in Europe, he could leave with a sense of accomplishment. He had given Brazil thirty years of conscientious rule. He had carried the country unscathed through five years of war, and he had brought to the point of enactment a law to ensure the eventual end of slavery. On March , , the emperor returned to Brazil, and he came crowned with laurels. His months in Europe had been a triumph. His modest bearing, his learning, and his enthusiastic interest in everything he encountered had garnered respect and attention wherever he went. The passage of the Law of Free Birth, enacted during his stay in Europe, had further enhanced both his personal reputation and the international standing of the country he ruled. The start of the s brought prosperous times for Brazil. Its economy was booming, and schemes for internal development—railroads, shipping lines, and immigrant colonies—proliferated. With slavery destined for extinction and other reforms projected, the prospects for “moral and material advances” seemed vast.1 During the emperor’s absence, the president of the Council of Ministers had more than proved his capacities and kept the national government on an even course. The viscount of Rio Branco was a second-in-command on whom Pedro II could rely, as the emperor settled back into harness and turned his attention to “the great amount that we have to undertake.”2 Everything seemed set fair for the future. One small cloud did hang on the political horizon. In Rio de Janeiro on December , , a Republican Manifesto had been published, bearing fifty-six signatures. Its concluding sentences read:

W

  

  , ‒ Strengthened therefore by our rights and our conscience, we present ourselves to our fellow citizens, boldly unfurling the flag of the Federal Republican party. We belong to America and we wish to be Americans. Our present form of government is in its essence and its practice antithetical and hostile to the law and the interests of the American states. In the eyes of Europe we are a democratic monarchy which does not inspire sympathy or gain adherents. In the eyes of America we are a monarchical democracy in which the instinct and the power of the people cannot prevail over the sovereign’s arbitrariness and predominance. In such conditions Brazil has to consider itself a country isolated not just in the context of America but also the context of the world. Our struggle is designed to end this state of affairs, placing us in fraternal contact with all the peoples and in democratic solidarity with the continent of which we form part.3

Republicanism was not new in Brazil. It had flourished in the early s but thereafter had become a matter of individual belief, one not systematically propagated or even publicly expressed. The signatories of the  manifesto were disparate—a few long-standing believers, such as Cristiano Ottoni, but mostly frustrated politicians, recent graduates of the academies, and men for various reasons alienated from the status quo. The signatories were formidable neither in number nor in standing. The manifesto itself was not impressive in content or in style. The newspaper of which the manifesto formed the first number did flourish for a while. However, A República could not maintain its readership and at the end of February  stopped publishing.4 The Republican Manifesto could be viewed as nothing more than an expression of discontent, a protest against the flaws in the political and administrative order commonly acknowledged. Pedro II and the cabinets headed by São Vicente and Rio Branco sought to defuse and disable that protest by the enactment of laws addressing the most urgent grievances—slave emancipation, reform of the police, demobilization of the National Guard, an end to impressment into the armed forces, and reform of the electoral system. By expanding the size of the judiciary and the bureaucracy and by proliferating the grant of honors and awards, the Rio Branco ministry gave employment and recognition to the discontented. This response to the Republican Manifesto proved effective in the short term. Republicanism did not disappear but, thanks to the regime’s countermeasures, its appeal was blunted and it did not develop into a viable political movement with a presence in national affairs. The republicans presented no threat to the monarchy for the foreseeable future. The emperor reacted to the emergence of the republican movement with a benevolent indifference. It caused him no alarm. Shortly after the Republican

  

  , ‒

Figure . Cristiano Benedito Ottoni, radical politician, signatory of the Republican Manifesto of , and a senator

Manifesto was published, the president of the council, the marquis of São Vicente, had suggested to Pedro II that “one of the measures the government should adopt is not to appoint to public posts anyone with republican opinions.” São Vicente pointed out that such a ban was applied in England against professed republicans and in the United States against monarchists. The Emperor retorted: “Sr. São Vicente, let the country govern itself as it deems best and allow everyone their opinions.” “Sire,” replied São Vicente, “Y. M. does not have the right to think in this way. The monarchy is enshrined in the Constitution which Y. M. has sworn to uphold; it is not embodied in the person of Y. M.” “Well now,” the emperor told him, laughing, “if the Brazilians don’t want me for their emperor, I will go and be a school teacher.”5

Pedro II’s response is significant in two respects—his attitude to power and his perception of the republicans. He did not regard the monarchical form of government as intrinsically superior to the republican. As he had noted in December , “In respect to a political post, I would prefer that of president of a republic or minister to that of emperor.”6 Visiting Paris a decade later he had no hesitation in paying a visit to Adolphe Thiers, head of the newly created French republic. Further, Pedro II genuinely believed in freedom of speech,

  

  , ‒ which he deemed essential to a constitutional regime. Those who refused to subordinate their republican beliefs to advancing their careers commanded his respect.7 Perhaps most importantly, the emperor simply did not take the republican movement in Brazil seriously. For him its supporters rather resembled children playing at being adults, a fantasy to be permitted and indulged but not to be confused with the realities of life.8 If Brazilians wished for him to rule them, he would do so, but on his own terms. If they did not, then he would “go and be a school teacher.” His subjects could choose. In a sense he was playing a game at very high stakes and involving a very large element of bluff, even of blackmail. He either scooped the pot or folded his hand. Given the inability of the republicans to establish themselves as a national movement after , the emperor’s attitude had a certain justification. What Pedro II did not grasp was that the founding of the Republican party was significant not for itself but for the structural changes in Brazil that it symbolized. First was an alteration in the nature of the public sphere. The Paraguayan War had brought about a considerable expansion in Brazil’s economy, stimulating new forms of production and a consequent diversification in the social structure, especially in the major towns. From the second half of the s onward, there emerged in those towns something resembling mass politics, which appealed to a growing urban constituency that was literate, involved in the market economy, and politically conscious. The urban population desired inclusion and acceptance and was not afraid of new ways, such as participation in public meetings. To this audience A República appealed both in its style and layout. The newspaper adopted the novel practice of using newsboys to sell single copies on the streets of Rio de Janeiro. The Republican Manifesto with its assertions that authority derived solely from the people echoed the feelings of this new urban constituency.9 A further expression of this discontent was the appearance in weekly periodicals, such as O Mosquito and O Mequetrefe [The Meddler], of irreverent and mocking caricatures on public affairs, including the emperor himself.10 The second change involved the coming of age of a new generation, born in the late s, in which the offspring of the ruling circles figured prominently. The men graduating from the law schools at São Paulo and Recife, the medical faculties at Rio de Janeiro and Salvador, and the Polytechnic School (formerly Escola Central) at Rio differed sharply in their world view from their parents. Taking for granted Brazil’s unity and its status as a nation-state, they had no fears about the collapse of the political order and were far less traditionalist than their parents in their political views. The fall of the emperor Napoleon III in  and the proclamation of a French republic which struggled to defeat the German armies appealed strongly to their imaginations and emotions. The example of France, the center of civilization, gave validity in their eyes to the republic as

  

  , ‒ the regime which would ensure progress. Most of these young men did not openly reject or challenge the imperial regime and they made their careers within it, but it did not command their exclusive loyalty, nor did they fear its replacement.11 The language used by the Republican Manifesto was very much in tune with the approach of this new generation. As a result of his constant attendance at examinations and graduation ceremonies, Pedro II knew personally a good number of these young men. For him they represented the hope for Brazil’s future as a nation-state. Late in , when visiting the naval arsenal at Rio, the emperor encountered one of the young men he knew engaged in heavy manual work, cleaning the tubes of a boiler. José Carlos de Carvalho later recalled: I had hardly left the boiler, when the emperor Pedro II, visibly happy to find me in a worker’s blouse, gave me his hand to kiss, and then shaking my hand, which was dirty with coal and grease, said to those accompanying him, when they sent for a basin and towel for His Majesty to wash his hands: “I don’t need it. This is the best memento that I can take away of today’s visit, when I have encountered Lieutenant Carvalho wearing a worker’s blouse in the workshops of this arsenal.”12

Pedro II’s contentment was enhanced by a personal motive. Men such as José Carlos de Carvalho, born in , were the age that the emperor’s two sons would have been, had either survived into adulthood. Carvalho, who was openly republican in his beliefs, displayed all the qualities that Pedro II desired in a son and heir. The emperor proved consistently supportive of Carvalho and of other young men of similar character. As with Carvalho, he repeatedly intervened on their behalf when pride and forthrightness caused them to clash with the authorities.13 The final structural change was a shift in the distribution of socioeconomic power within Brazil. From the s onward Rio de Janeiro city and its hinterland had dominated the country in terms of export production, foreign trade, and technological advance. By the late s the interior of São Paulo province was surpassing the Rio de Janeiro hinterland as a coffee producer. The completion in  of the Santos to Jundiaí railroad gave São Paulo province its own outlet for its coffee exports, independent of Rio de Janeiro. From  onward the perceived preference given by the national government to the city and province of Rio de Janeiro aroused increasing resentment and demands for provincial autonomy in all parts of Brazil. Perhaps the most effective section of the Republican Manifesto was its advocacy of federalism as the proper form of government for Brazil.

  

  , ‒ These shifts, while they constituted a substantial challenge to the monarchy, were not unmanageable if handled imaginatively. However, Pedro II’s ten months in Europe in – engendered a significant change in his character and outlook. Two key and linked traits in the emperor’s personality had always been the need to know and the need to control. Knowledge prevented the incursion of the unexpected and the unknown and facilitated control, which he had to exercise unaided and by himself. Iron self-discipline, unrelenting application, an excellent memory, and a sacrifice of profundity allowed the emperor up to  to fulfill these linked imperatives: the need for knowledge and the need for control. The months in Europe upset this equilibrium. For the first time the emperor escaped his allotted role. As the countess of Barral wrote to D. Isabel on June , , “Papa is content and says  times a day ‘Long live liberty,’ wanting to stay in his role of Mr. Alcântara toward and against everyone. He is perfectly right.”14 As the private citizen “Pedro de Alcântara,” he was able to leave off wearing the tail coat which had been his uniform for forty-four years. He and his wife were able to take a train trip utterly by themselves. He attended a service at the London Central Synagogue where he was given a seat of honor and read a Hebrew text.15 Europe freed the emperor from the straitjacket of etiquette and obligation he faced in Brazil. This equation of Europe with freedom explains in part the intimate correspondence that Pedro II maintained after his return to Brazil with a number of women he had met in Europe—Claire Benoist d’Azy, Anna von Baligand, Frederica Planat de la Faye, and others. By means of a flirtatious relationship with these women of beauty, intelligence, and good family he was in a sense courting Europe itself, and so keeping his links with it alive.16 After his return to Rio in  his mind was no longer focused entirely on the task which his birth had given him. The outside world tempted him away. His ten-month residence in Europe and his experience of life there also made Pedro II realize just how far Brazil and even Rio de Janeiro lagged behind the “civilized” world. The emperor had always accepted unquestioningly that Europe, and particularly France, constituted what Brazil could and should be. He now appreciated that the gap his nation faced was so great that it could not be closed in his lifetime. This new consciousness of Brazil’s backwardness and of the weaknesses in its political and social structures reinforced the emperor’s natural caution and made him less inclined, once he resumed his duties in Rio de Janeiro, to act boldly and to take risks. Pedro II’s months in Europe brought another kind of disillusionment. “Nothing escapes the intelligent curiosity of Daddy,” wrote the countess of Barral to D. Isabel, “and nothing our poor legs which he drags along from morning

  

  , ‒ until night.”17 Throughout his visit the emperor strove to see and to understand, but however hard he tried there always existed far more knowledge (both concrete and abstract) than he could encounter and absorb. The world of knowledge, in which the professional specialist was beginning to replace the amateur generalist, was expanding too quickly and becoming too complex for any single individual to encompass. Pedro II would not acknowledge this new reality. His life thereafter was marked by an increasingly frenetic quest to know, regardless of the fact that he absorbed and understood less and less. Indeed, it may be that the frenetic pace of the search was a way to avoid confronting the dilemma. The emperor’s inability to respond and adapt was symptomatic of a growing rigidity in his general outlook and ideas. It is not surprising that the count d’Eu, discussing Pedro II’s return to Brazil, told his father: “I found the emperor physically unchanged; but psychologically more sluggish, contrary to what I had expected; he himself complains that he can no longer read without going to sleep.”18 Pedro II’s letter of April  to the count of Gobineau, who had served briefly as French envoy in Rio, –, and whom he met again in Europe, makes clear the difficulties of his situation. He had not yet resumed his studies because he needed to “rest my brain from all the effort it had to make during its travels.” He desired to write about his travels in Europe, Pedro II told the count, but he doubted it would be of sufficient interest to those who had spent more time there than he had, “although it is only by writing that I can best coordinate my ideas on my travels.” “I would ask you to give my greetings to those we know in the world of the sciences and the arts such as [Pierre] Berthelot [organic chemist] and [Ernest] Renan [historian and critic] and to give them my excuses for not writing. I have so much to do that I have difficulty even in keeping up my correspondence with my closest relatives.”19 Writing to Gobineau seven months later, in November , Pedro II commented: “There seems to be less time available than previously, and I have not been feeling entirely well since my return.”20 In March  the count d’Eu informed his father that the emperor was suffering from a recurring fever and an infection (erysipelas) in his leg which “makes it impossible for him to use it.” In addition he was clearly having problems with his eyes, since he avoided reading. “Accustomed as he is never to suffer from anything and not to experience any restriction to his unceasing activity, this mishap has much upset him. It is very annoying as much for him as for the conduct of government.”21 These problems continued for several months, but the emperor did finally recover. On December , , two days after his forty-eighth birthday, he informed Gobineau: “My health is almost as it used to be, but I need more rest than I used to and always there is—I must state, as previously—nothing else but work.”22

  

  , ‒ Part of the problem was certainly that the stress of the Paraguayan War had aged Pedro II considerably, his hair and beard now totally white and his face heavily lined.23 His months in Europe had provided no opportunities for rest and recovery. But the constant references to the burdens of work in his letters to Gobineau also have another cause. The business of government grew substantially in the years after . The emperor had previously exerted an oversight of all aspects of administration, an oversight which extended to control of even the smallest matters. On the one hand, this system had slowed down the process of decision-making, but, on the other, the emperor’s good sense and restraint meant that the decisions taken had been as a rule consistent and considered. After  the situation changed markedly. The government bureaucracy grew in size and the process of decision-making became ever more complex. Governing the country became too voluminous and too intricate for any one individual to understand and control. The tradition of government inherited from the Portuguese era had always favored the issuing of massive regulations on any subject that caused concern. The expansion of the economy and the diversification of society multiplied the topics requiring such regulation. In the period from  to  a total of  laws and , executive decrees—every one of them discussed and signed by the emperor—had been issued, and in the years from  to ,  laws and , decrees. From  to  the number of laws passed and degrees issued each rose by half, to  and ,, respectively.24 The number of government appointments and awards grew by a parallel magnitude. A further complication was that, during the s, more and more provinces of Brazil became linked to the national capital by the electric telegraph. The result was to reduce what limited autonomy the provincial presidents and assemblies had previously possessed in the handling of affairs. The imperial government could intervene immediately in the most minor matters. Pedro II welcomed this development, since it gave greater scope to his self-ordained mandate to remedy abuses and injustices. Typical was the letter he had sent the minister of justice on September , 8: The events of Bahia are much to be regretted, and the culprits must be punished. The language of the acting comandante superior [supreme commander of the National Guard battalion] is very extreme, as is that of Erico, the commander of the [police] detachment, who was rightly dismissed. I would call your attention to the article I have clipped from a Bahia newspaper.25

These changing circumstances meant both that the national government needed to rethink its methods of decision-making and administration and that

  

  , ‒ the emperor himself needed to revise his methods of rule. In fact neither change took place. The emperor realized that he was overburdened. On August , , he told Gobineau: In truth my obligation to keep in touch with politics and administration, even though in my position as constitutional monarch I have no need to intervene in them save rarely, takes up a great deal of my time, and since I don’t know how to limit my dedication to the task, I assure you that I get tired, but what can I do? I would tire myself even more trying to make myself rest.26

By a supreme effort of will and expense of energy Pedro II tried to continue his management of the entire business of government just as he attempted to keep abreast with the advance of every branch of science. The outcome was predictable and perhaps foreordained. He could not focus his attention upon major issues and channel his energies to resolving them. Instead he took refuge in trivia. “In spite of my care I missed a spelling mistake in the draft of the Regulation for the Polytechnic School in the section on the science curriculum,” wrote the viscount of Rio Branco to a fellow minister, “the which it would be good to correct in the original, given that the emperor will note it with his usual close reading.”27 This comment suggests that, when Pedro II assured Gobineau that he did not intervene in administration and politics “save rarely,” he was deceiving himself. He had always maintained a close oversight of state affairs and the activism visible since  resulted in a greater personal involvement in the minutiae of government, such as critiquing the proofs of the ministers’ annual reports to the legislature.28 In , referring to speeches criticizing him made by the opposition in the legislature, Pedro II wrote: “In any case there are errors which need immediate correction, such as my involving myself in minor administrative matters. If they come to my knowledge at the expense of important matters, as I have at times pointed out, it is not my fault.”29 This admission, which sought to shift responsibility onto the ministers’ shoulders, confirmed what the emperor sought to deny. Those few men intimate with him, such as the viscount of Bom Retiro, shared his attitudes and his love of detail.30 If any of his inner circle had tried to point out the drawbacks of his conduct, Pedro II would have listened politely but changed his behavior not at all. The emperor always did exactly what he thought best. This unwillingness to adapt to changing circumstances and to loosen his control was counterproductive. It worked to thwart achievement of “the great amount we have to undertake,” the program of reforms and improvements to which Pedro II had referred in his message to the viscount of Rio Branco from Alexandria in October . The reforms had been announced in the Speech from the Throne delivered

  

  , ‒

Figure . José Maria da Silva Paranhos, viscount of Rio Branco, diplomat, senator, and the longest serving president of the Council of Ministers, ‒

by the emperor in May . The speech pledged the new cabinet headed by Rio Branco to resolving the thorny issue of slavery. It also committed the ministry to take action on the administration of justice, the electoral system, and the securing of recruits for the armed forces. All these measures were designed to remedy glaring weaknesses in the political and administrative order and to introduce changes that would satisfy and disarm the discontented. The Speech from the Throne also announced that the government would use its resources to accelerate “the improvements [melhoramentos] of which Brazil is in need.” Specifically, the cabinet would encourage the “introduction of free labor,” “the facilitation of the means of transport,” and the “extension of telegraph lines.”31 These last measures indicated that the government was taking up, after a fifteen-year hiatus, the program of melhoramentos initiated by the Paraná cabinet, in which Rio Branco had served. The increased expertise of the government bureaucracy, greater number of technical experts, and the presence of investment capital made the program’s prospects for success far more favorable in 

  

  , ‒ than had been the case in . The Paraguayan War had imbued Brazilians, particularly the younger generation, with a sense of urgency and desire for change. A dichotomy had always existed in Brazil between the “official world”—the literate, the well to do, and the influential, who were deemed citizens—and the “real world”—the mass of the people, who were illiterate, poverty ridden, and exploited.32 Since  the “official world” had grown somewhat in size and become much more closely linked with the external world. Yet the “real world” had increased even more dramatically in numbers with no visible improvement in its conditions of life. Brazil was no closer to its dream of becoming the France of Latin America. Until the mass of the population was integrated into the “official country,” that goal would remain illusory. Achieving that integration required a massive mobilization of resources, a series of radical reforms, a willingness to take risks, and a much more open and flexible system of rule. The emperor’s dislike of radical change, his distrust of autonomous centers of power, and his unwillingness to relinquish his control of affairs figured prominently among the factors making it unlikely that the imperial regime would embark on so daring a course. The viscount of Rio Branco did not possess, as had Paraná, the character and political standing to act independently of the emperor. He was very much Pedro II’s agent. Necessary and even laudable as was the program for change adopted by the two men, the reforms implemented shared a common weakness, one evident in the provisions of the Law of Free Birth, enacted on September , . The law did guarantee an eventual end to slavery in Brazil. However, it did nothing immediate for the existing slaves. Very few gained their freedom at once, and the emancipation fund received scanty resources for its task of buying slaves their liberty. Although the law declared the children born of slave mothers to be ingenuos [freeborn], its provisions in fact kept the ingenuous in a state of virtual captivity until they reached the age of twenty-one. The status quo in slavery was thus guaranteed for two decades more. Unable to reproduce itself, slavery would eventually disappear, but the law of September , , set no certain date for its abolition. The law changed everything and it changed nothing. This same unwillingness to force immediate and structural change was apparent in the other measures enacted or proposed by the Rio Branco cabinet. The law reforming the police system that was passed in  in theory reduced the arbitrary powers of the police to imprison and in theory enhanced the civil liberties of individual Brazilians. In practice the situation changed little or not at all, since the police continued to be as irresponsible and abusive as before. The same weakness existed in the legislation enacted in  to replace forced recruitment into the armed forces by a system of conscription. By allowing those unlucky in the conscription lottery to find a substitute to serve in their place, the

  

  , ‒ new law favored the “official” over the “real world.” Only the well to do could afford the cost of buying a substitute. Attempts to implement the law’s provisions provoked widespread and violent resistance. The reform was not repealed but it was never enforced. In effect, the Rio Branco reforms were palliatives. They did not try to achieve, nor were they intended to achieve, the radical changes that the situation demanded. Such reforms would have risked disrupting the existing system of rule and ending the ability of those in the “official world” to direct and control the social order. The rulers of Brazil could not contemplate taking those risks, nor, in the final analysis, did they favor the strange new world that sweeping reforms would produce. The emperor’s desire for control and dislike of radical change caused him to share these attitudes. His support for reform in the abstract was always moderated when the moment came for specific measures, as shown by his handling of the question of electoral reform. The  constitution by its articles  through  created a two-tier franchise. First the “voters” met at the parish level to choose a much smaller number of electors. The electors, meeting in colleges, then elected the province’s representatives to the Chamber of Deputies and, when Senate vacancies occurred, a short list of three candidates from which the emperor chose the new senator.33 As elections repeatedly demonstrated, this system offered innumerable opportunities for manipulation, coercion, and fraud, both by public officials and by private interests. Public opinion was increasingly convinced that only through the introduction of open and honest elections could Brazil move ahead. Pedro II’s attitude toward electoral reform was ambivalent. He sympathized with the public’s longing for honest elections. “Let there be elections as they ought to be, and therefore with all the ensuing consequences,” he observed in his diary on January , , “and Brazil will be certain of its future and the monarch of unclouded days.”34 He was very conscious of the abuses that the two-tier electoral system facilitated. Far outweighing his support for electoral reform was his fear of the larger consequences that would follow from electoral reform. To him it meant opening a Pandora’s box. Replacing the existing two-tier system with direct elections required, the emperor believed, amending article  of the  constitution. Pedro II had long been adamantly opposed to any change to the constitution. “In respect to the selection of cabinets, I impose only these conditions,” he had remarked in , “that they respect the constitution and the laws, that they are upright morally, and that they do not want to carry out reforms to the Constitution.”35 For direct elections to be introduced by means of a constitutional amendment, the legislature would first have to pass a law authorizing the electors to give constituent powers to the next Chamber of Deputies in respect to specified articles

  

  , ‒ of the constitution. Only once before had such constituent powers been granted to a Chamber of Deputies, and on that occasion, in , the new deputies had insisted that they alone possessed the right to debate and enact the amendment.36 Neither the emperor nor the Senate had, according to this precedent, any role in the enactment of a constitutional amendment. Pedro II had enjoyed for a third of a century the last word in all questions of government. He could not welcome what amounted to his exclusion from power.37 Some opponents of constitutional reform expressed fears that once the lower house holding constituent powers was in session it would become radical and, in contravention of the terms of its mandate, enact sweeping changes to the constitution. The chamber might try to abolish the regulating power, perhaps even the monarchy itself. The second cause for the emperor’s dislike of electoral reform sprang from his fear that the franchise would be exercised by the wrong sort of person. Literacy was essential, for in his view it imparted the rationality and the knowledge that voting required. Toward the end of his life Pedro II commented that “I was always against universal suffrage and in favor of the vote for those who demonstrate an ability to read and write, particularly because of the effect it would have on primary education.”38 In Brazil of the s, the overwhelming proportion of adult men, including many “voters,” could not read or write. Commenting to the count of Gobineau on the question of electoral reform, Pedro II stated: “I trust only in the education of the people.”39 During one of his visits to a night school in Rio, the Liceu de Artes e Ofícios, the emperor learned that a freed slave was enrolled, learning how to read, write, and do arithmetic. “When he entered the classroom, he went up to him, clapping him on the shoulder, as a demonstration of his immense satisfaction in seeing the way in which a man of the people was striving to learn how to become eventually useful to the country and his family.”40 Pedro II’s commendable freedom from racial prejudice meant that he did not perceive skin color as a bar to civilization or citizenship. Any man who by his own endeavors became literate, as had Geminiano Monteiro, the freed slave, was in the emperor’s view qualified to exercise citizenship. These two concerns underlay Pedro II’s statement in his memorandum to D. Isabel before leaving for Europe in 1: “Some demand direct [elections] more or less openly; however, there is nothing more serious than a constitutional reform, without which a change in the electoral system cannot be achieved, even if it does not exclude the [category of] voters.”41 The marquis of São Vicente had long advocated introducing direct elections through a constitutional amendment but, when he took office in September , he bowed to the emperor’s wishes and instead endorsed electoral reform which retained the two-

  

  , ‒ tier system. His concession on this point was one cause for his cabinet’s lack of prestige and its short life.42 The viscount of Rio Branco, who replaced São Vicente in March , had never committed himself to the idea of direct elections, and so his willingness to accept the emperor’s preferences on the subject caused no problem. The cabinet’s project for electoral reform, introduced in May , did not alter the existing two-tier system, and for that very reason the measure lacked credibility. The changes that it proposed were no more than cosmetic. In an attempt to ensure representation of the opposition party in the Chamber of Deputies, the reform established a system of partial voting. Each voter could cast his ballot for only two-thirds of the seats to be filled, and this practice would, it was alleged, prevent either party from winning all the seats. In reality, if the majority cast its votes so that all its candidates received equal support, it could win all the seats. The new system was both visibly fallible and an incitement to party manipulation of the voters.43 Not only did Pedro II block the enactment of radical reform in the first half of the s but he also kept the Rio Branco cabinet in a state of visible subordination. The ministry’s dependence on the emperor was demonstrated in May  when, by a single vote, the Chamber of Deputies passed a motion that implied no confidence in the ministry. Instead of accepting that verdict and resigning, Rio Branco appealed to the emperor for a dissolution of the chamber. Pedro II had no hesitation in granting the request, especially since the motion of no confidence had been proposed by the deputies who had opposed the Law of Free Birth. The elections held late in  were as false and as fixed as those of  had been. The comfortable majority secured by the ministry could not disguise the fact that it henceforth existed not because of popular support but because Pedro II wished it to do so.44 This subordination to the emperor explains a conflict known as the Religious Question [Questão Religiosa], which shook Brazil in the early s.45 Pedro II was a conscientious member of the Catholic Church who accepted its traditional dogmas and who fulfilled his religious duties punctiliously. He saw the Catholic Church as an institution that promoted civilization and ensured good conduct and obedience in social relations.46 He avoided doing anything that could be considered unorthodox.47 Established religion was important to him as the moral bulwark of the social order, but it was not something which controlled his existence and dictated his ways of thinking or behaving.48 He had little or no sympathy for recent developments in Catholicism, including the dogmas of the Immaculate Conception promulgated in  and of Papal Infallibility decreed in . The countess of Barral understood the emperor perfectly. “How good it is

  

  , ‒ to believe. I don’t write this because I think that you don’t believe,” she told him on Easter Day . “I know that you believe, but your religion is not obedient, and it is this that it ought to be; and not serving as a convenience as I have always told you as much about your Morality as about your religion; I don’t claim that I haven’t strayed from the path, but it was always with a realization of the wrong that I was doing, whereas you always used to say that the justification lay in the strength of a feeling or in its sincerity.”49 As for the role of the Catholic Church in the public life of Brazil, Pedro II denied it both authority and independence. From Portugal the Empire of Brazil had inherited, with the papacy’s acquiescence, virtually total control over the Catholic Church, which was the state religion (although other faiths could be practiced in private). The government paid the clergy, chose parish priests, and presented names of new bishops to the Vatican for its approval. The government controlled the seminaries and their curriculum. It could even ban the publication in Brazil of papal bulls (general orders) which did not meet with its approval. In , without consulting the papacy, the government had provisionally suspended the entry of novices into monasteries, alleging a misuse of resources by the monastic orders. The suspension became in effect a permanent ban.50 The government also created by a decree of March , , the right of appeal to the crown in most ecclesiastical affairs, a right that deprived the Catholic Church of authority over its own affairs.51 What also legitimized subordination of church to state was the decrepit condition of the Catholic Church in Brazil. The parish clergy were few in number, poorly educated, remiss in their duties, and often not celibate. The possession of “wives” and children was quite common. The priests were in no way a separate caste but participated actively in politics, being quite often elected as national and provincial deputies. In sum, the Catholic Church lacked moral authority and popular respect, and the bishops, who depended on the government for financial support and for keeping their diocesan clergy in obedience, were in no position to challenge the government’s hegemony.52 Pedro II and the ruling politicians deplored the weaknesses in the Catholic Church and sought to remedy them as far as they could. They desired to make the church an efficient and obedient agency of the government. To this end they tried to name as bishops men who were morally irreproachable, well educated, and dedicated to the task of reform.53 “Without giving moral authority to the bishops who merit it, as does that of Pará, we will not have a good clergy,” Pedro II commented in .54 What the emperor and the politicians did not appreciate was that these goals would inevitably lessen the subordination of church to state and that the men they named as bishops would, if successful, resent their utter lack of autonomy. Further, the rising generation of committed Catholics could

  

  , ‒

Figure . D. Vital Maria Gonçalves de Oliveira, bishop of Olinda

not but be influenced by the new ultramontane outlook dominant within the Catholic Church, an outlook which emphasized the church’s superiority to the civil state and which made obedience to the pope paramount. In  the Rio Branco cabinet selected as the new bishop of Olinda, whose diocese encompassed the provinces of the northeast, a Brazilian-born priest aged twenty-seven who had trained at the Saint Suplice seminary in Paris. They not only picked a reformer, but one who was an ultramontane heart and soul and who, moreover, did not know the meaning of caution or compromise. Taking charge of his diocese in May , Dom Vital Maria Gonçalves de Oliveira embarked in December on a campaign to purge all freemasons from the irmandades [lay brotherhoods] attached to the parish churches in the city of Recife. The bishop’s act was revolutionary in two ways. Several papal bulls forbade Roman Catholics to be freemasons and, moreover, in the countries of Catholic Europe the Masonic movement was atheistic and aggressively anticlerical. In Brazil, the situation was markedly different. The papal bulls had never been approved by the government. Freemasonry had served as an important vehicle in the struggle for independence, with Pedro I serving for a time as grand master. Although not everyone of importance was a

  

  , ‒ mason, Pedro II himself being one example, membership was common. Rio Branco was grand master of the most important wing of the movement, and neither the president of the council nor his associates could be accused of atheism or hostility to religion. “I can assure him [the pope] that masonry, to which moreover I have never belonged, in Brazil does not concern itself with religion,” Pedro II informed his son-in-law, who, late in , was about to visit Pope Pius IX.55 Freemasonry was an integral element in the status quo in Brazil.56 The irmandades, the lay brotherhoods attached to the churches, were not solely religious in constitution and purpose. Their statutes had to be approved by the government and they were charged with charitable activities which today would be provided by social services agencies. Further, the irmandades had long served as institutions which defined and so conferred social status. They acted as vehicles for socialization among the ruling groups. They were an integral part of the “official world” in imperial Brazil.57 Dom Vital’s action therefore offended in multiple ways. Worse was to follow. When the board of the irmandade do Santíssimo Sacramento [brotherhood of the Sacred Sacrament] of Recife refused to expel known freemasons from its membership, the bishop forbade the saying of divine service in the parish church to which the offending irmandade was attached. The bishop was thus using his spiritual powers to force a profound change not only in the established way of life but also in the relationship between church and state. The seriousness of the dispute was intensified in March  when the bishop of Pará, who had charge of the far north of Brazil, also issued a pastoral letter ordering the members of the brotherhoods in his diocese to abjure masonry. He joined his colleague of Olinda in issuing interdicts against five irmandades in the city of Belém do Pará which refused to expel masons from their ranks.58 The emperor and the cabinet were involved in the dispute from its earliest days. The irmandade do Santíssimo Sacramento appealed against its suspension to the president of the province. The question of the irmandades’ right to appeal to government was first referred to a committee and then to the entire Council of State, and both ruled in favor of the irmandade’s right. The government thereupon heard and granted the appeal and ordered the bishop of Olinda to lift the interdicts. He refused. The cabinet decided on a double course of action. It laid criminal charges against the two offending bishops and appointed a special envoy to negotiate with the Vatican so that the pope would order the lifting of the interdicts imposed by the bishops.59 The government could not compromise in the affair, the viscount of Rio Branco wrote in August , since it involved principles essential to the social order and to national sovereignty.60 As head of the most important wing of the Masonic order, Rio Branco acted out of conviction and self-protection. But his firmness on the question was all

  

  , ‒ the greater because the emperor fully shared Rio Branco’s viewpoint.61 Pedro II’s hand is visible at every stage of the affair. In September , he wrote to the count d’Eu, then in Europe and about to visit Rome, giving him instructions on what he should say to the pope. “Don’t disguise the fact that the government has to lay charges against the bishop of Olinda and others who act as he does, since it has to ensure that the constitution is obeyed. In these proceedings there is no desire to protect masonry; but rather the goal of upholding the rights of the temporal power.” “Assure the pope that nobody has greater respect for him than I do nor a more sincere religious feeling, but I must protect the Constitution and laws of Brazil.”62 Pedro II’s letter fully justifies what Joaquim Nabuco, the son of a councilor of state active in the controversy, observed: the emperor took the bishop’s action as a personal affront and was inflexible in his determination to secure retraction and submission.63 Pedro II’s stubbornness had secured him success in the war against Paraguay and in the passage of the Law of Free Birth. In the Religious Question this quality turned against him. The diplomatic mission to Rome was ably conducted, and in December  it succeeded in obtaining from the Vatican a letter addressed to the bishop of Olinda reproving his conduct and instructing him to withdraw the interdicts against the irmandade. This letter arrived at Rio de Janeiro in January  just after the bishop of Olinda had been arrested and brought to the national capital for trial. The papal envoy tried to broker a settlement—withdrawal of the interdicts and a dropping of the case against the bishops—but the government refused his suggestion. As the minister of the empire informed the president of Pernambuco, “The reply was: No, no we will not compromise.”64 The bishop of Olinda did receive the Vatican’s letter but refused to carry out its instructions until he had consulted directly with the pope. The government proceeded with the trial. On learning of the imprisonment and trial, the pope ordered the letter’s withdrawal and destruction.65 The government secured the bishop of Olinda’s conviction in the trial held in February and that of the bishop of Pará in July . The sentence in both cases was four years’ imprisonment with hard labor, which Pedro II commuted to one of simple imprisonment. The emperor and the cabinet soon found that these successes had availed them nothing. During his trial Dom Vital proved himself adept at public relations, successfully equating his ordeal with that of Jesus Christ. After their conviction both bishops persisted in their refusal to submit and moreover named to govern their dioceses, during their imprisonment, vicars-general who were as intransigent as they themselves if not more so. In January  the vicars-general were also arrested, but this action simply stiffened the diocesan clergy’s refusal to comply.66 The emperor and the cabinet found themselves trapped in a quarrel they could not hope to win. As a senior

  

  , ‒ politician wrote in March : “The question of the Bishop is not ended, and I don’t know how and when it will be possible to end it.”67 The trial, condemnation, and imprisonment of two bishops thoroughly unsettled public opinion. The quarrel cast doubt on the capacity of the status quo and weakened the legitimacy of the regime. At the end of  a popular protest movement burst out in the interior of the northeast over the government’s decision to enforce use of the metric system, part of a reform of weights and measures. At the weekly markets the local peasants smashed the new weights and measures and burned tax and land records.68 This Quebra Quilo [“Smash the Kilos”] movement did not constitute a serious threat and soon exhausted itself, but its very appearance deprived the cabinet of prestige and made its policies suspect. The emperor’s encouragement of the cabinet’s intransigence on the Religious Question was common knowledge at the time. Pedro II’s role in the affair served to confirm and reinforce a fundamental shift in the public’s perception of him. Prior to the mid-s he had been generally regarded as a beneficent and restrained influence in public life who kept the government affairs on an even course. He was seen as someone who put promotion of the common good before his own interests. From July , , when he replaced the Liberals with the Conservatives, this perception began to alter. Pedro II was increasingly regarded as the master manipulator who interfered in every aspect of public affairs, preventing Brazilians from controlling their own destiny and making their own decisions. He came to be seen as someone whose primary concern was to prevent any development that might threaten his control of the nation’s affairs. These perceptions of the emperor, encouraged by his handling of the Religious Question, were summed up and expressed in the two phrases o poder pessoal and o lápis fatídico. The first—“the personal power”—referred to the realities of the distribution of power within the imperial system.69 The second—“the fatal pencil”—referred to the emperor’s ability to decide everything by a simple scrawl on a piece of paper.70 The two phrases, in common use among politicians out of office from the early s, exemplified the changing attitude toward Pedro II. Previously the emperor had stood above the political strife, exempt from public censure. Now he became viewed as certainly more skilled and more powerful than the other players in the political system, but in essence no different from them. It was to be expected that the Liberals, after their sudden ouster from office in July , would be alienated. Their grievances were focused on the emperor and his system of governing, in good part because of the oratorical skills of

  

  , ‒ Zacarias de Góis e Vasconcelos, the head of the fallen cabinet, who systematically kept the emperor’s role in contention. In  Zacarias had refused to accept appointment to the Council of State, alleging that to do so would limit his independence as a senator. In the Senate he did not refrain from commenting on Pedro II’s actions.71 At a meeting of the Centro Liberal (Liberal party directorate) early in , a party member asserted that the country’s problems should not be attributed solely to the Conservative government but also to the power “which directs everything, resolves everything and unfortunately disposes of the power necessary to make its will prevail in everything.” The Centro Liberal’s minutes continued: Sr. Zacarias contested the observations of Sr. Fontenelle. Undeniably the emperor not only reigns, governs, and administers, as Conservative doctrine holds, but he [Zacarias] concluded, as he has already had occasion to state, that he [Pedro II] is responsible for the problems visible in the country. And this unjustifiable intervention, which upsets the regular functioning of the representative system, has become more evident and decisive since the law on the servile element.72

The younger generation in the Liberal party did not believe that the emperor was capable of changing his ways. “The role of a constitutional king has not been one for his intelligence or his narrow heart,” Aureliano Tavares Bastos, an able political writer and former deputy, wrote in . “There is absolutely nothing to hope for from the emperor save for his abdication.”73 The dissatisfaction with the emperor’s political role was not limited to the Liberals, whose protests were motivated in good part by their exclusion from office. Many in the Conservative party shared these views. As early as February  the baron of Cotegipe, then minister of the navy and acting minister of foreign affairs, commented privately to Tavares Bastos that Pedro II “did not want any reform which might take from him the means of having as at present influence in the chambers and of exercising his system of governing.” Cotegipe also complained about Pedro II’s “interfering and useless visits to the arsenals.”74 Sharp as Cotegipe’s criticisms were, he did not voice them to the general public. No such restraint characterized the conduct of José Martiniano de Alencar Jr., a fellow Conservative who until January  had served with Cotegipe in the Itaboraí cabinet. A man of great ability and a leading novelist, Alencar possessed an ego and a driving ambition that inevitably led him into conflict with Pedro II. When the emperor denied him the seat in the Senate that Alencar thought rightfully his, Alencar became openly alienated from the regime.75 In a fusillade of trenchant and eminently quotable articles and speeches he persistently attacked

  

  , ‒

Figure . João Maurício Wanderley, baron of Cotegipe, Conservative party leader, senator, and president of the Council of Ministers, wearing the court dress of a minister (the same as that of a court chamberlain) with the grand cross of the order of the Rose

Pedro II’s system of governing. “Such is the state of the country, such as the unfolding of this political drama that we can be carried naturally and smoothly from the prologue—eu quero já [I want it now]—to the epilogue—eu quero tudo [I want it all],” proclaimed one such article. Another, entitled “Ecce iterum Crispinus” [Here Crispinus Comes Again], expressed in print what many politicians were voicing privately: Like a monstrous cancer, the govêrno pessoal invades everything, from the most significant questions of high policy to the bagatelles of petty administration. It knows everything, understands each branch of the public service, knows the men already born and to be born, keeps a moral statistic of their abilities, with a register of their virtues as well as their useful weaknesses, and finally it is a living encyclopedia. . . . The govêrno pessoal subsumes in itself the seven [ministerial] portfolios and immerses itself deeper in them than does the most meticulous minister. There is no minister who does not receive correction from time to time in order that he may respect the wisdom of the master. . . .

  

  , ‒ This system has one great advantage, which is unity of thought, an indispensable trait of the executive power. Accordingly, the government of Brazil, no matter who the ministers may be or which parties dominate, is always the same. It could almost be substituted by an ingenious mechanism for the issuing of decrees.76

When the passage of the Law of Free Birth in September  split the Conservatives down the middle, one party faction backed the reforms of the Rio Branco cabinet, while the second, known as the escravocratas [slavocrats], were unrelenting in their opposition. This second faction had no trust in the emperor’s impartiality. Without Pedro II’s influence and insistence the  law would not have passed. After the dissidents had engineered the Rio Branco cabinet’s defeat in the Chamber of Deputies in May , the emperor had not, as parliamentary practice required, asked the dissidents’ leader, Paulino José Soares de Sousa Jr., to form a ministry. Joaquim Nabuco commented that Pedro II “considered Paulino de Sousa to be excessively doctrinaire and tainted with the inherited spirit of the [Conservative] Oligarchy.”77 As a result, the escravocrata wing of the Conservatives ceased to be unconditional monarchists, in the sense that they no longer instinctively looked to Pedro II for direction and guidance. At the end of  a leading Conservative senator wrote: “I have been for some time convinced that we are entirely dependent on the government or rather on he who names the government. If the emperor persuades himself that Nabuco, Sousa Franco, Zacarias, and Otaviano [the leaders of the Liberal party] can form a popular government and govern without giving strength and force to the Republicans, better than the Conservatives can govern, I am sure that very soon these gentlemen will have to take charge of the governing of the country.”78 In sum, politicians of both ruling parties echoed Cassius’s complaint against Julius Caesar: “Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus; and we petty men walk under his huge legs, and peep about to find ourselves dishonorable graves.”79 Given that by  Pedro II had been ruling for over thirty years, a long reign by any standard, it is not surprising that discontents had both accumulated and become vocal. In Great Britain of the eighteenth century, probably the closest parallel to imperial Brazil, such accumulated discontents were normally contained within what may be termed a dynastic opposition. The king’s eldest son, the Prince of Wales, usually at odds with his father, provided an alternative court and center of power to the reigning monarch. He represented the rising sun, promised his future favor, to be bestowed once he succeeded to the throne, and so kept the alienated and the aggrieved loyal to the regime.80 For such a dynastic opposition to emerge in Brazil two elements had to be present: a considerable body of discontented politicians, and a discontented heir willing to assume the leadership of and thereby give coherence and strength to a

  

  , ‒ dynastic opposition. The first factor was present in the s, but the existence of the second is questionable. The emperor’s attitude to D. Isabel continued to be complex and contradictory. On the one side, he loved her dearly as his daughter and lavished on her the attention and concern he never gave his wife.81 He clearly enjoyed D. Isabel’s company and respected her strength of character.82 On the other hand, he simply did not take her seriously as his heir, and so as his replacement. To him, power naturally belonged to men. Destiny had spoken in the loss of his two male heirs and the lack, after their death, of any more sons. Pedro II’s attitude, which almost certainly remained covert, was reinforced by his general attitude toward women. He searched for, delighted in, and in many ways depended on beautiful, intelligent, and well-born women, but he never accepted women as his equals. They had no natural place in the public sphere. In consequence, no woman could be credible ruling by herself but must inevitably be controlled and guided by her husband. The emperor had provided D. Isabel with what he revealingly described as “instruction more suitable for the other sex,” an education that she certainly would not have received had she not been heir to the throne.83 Shortly after D. Isabel married the count d’Eu, Pedro II assured her that “every day I am more satisfied in having abdicated to him my power as father.”84 This attitude was convenient for Pedro II. Acceptance of the princess as his successor would have forced the emperor to make the dynasty’s perpetuation his first priority, subordinating to this goal the fulfillment of his own interests and his freedom of action. The emperor’s relations with his brother-in-law the count of Áquila and then with his son-in-law the count d’Eu reveal that Pedro II could not bear to have his personal autonomy or his control of affairs in any way restricted.85 Accepting the reality of his daughter’s succession to the throne, with her husband to guide her, would have made Pedro II dependent, something that he could not stomach emotionally. It would be unjust to claim that the emperor consciously set out to sabotage D. Isabel’s prospects for succeeding him as monarch. He had no need to do so, because in most respects D. Isabel did not perceive herself as the future monarch of Brazil. Nor did she seek for herself a role in public affairs that offered any challenge to her father’s dominance. Nothing in her personality or in her beliefs appealed to the aggrieved and the alienated among the politicians. In character D. Isabel was not a nullity. She was strong willed and very much knew her own mind. She cannot be called unintelligent. Her comments on the world, particularly her assessment of personalities, could be shrewd. She was not, however, intellectual. Neither by instinct nor by training did the world of learning attract her. Her interest in literature and science was desultory.86 Con-

  

  , ‒ ventional in outlook and devoid of ambition or intellectual curiosity, she accepted the world as it was presented to her. She had no desire to break out from the domestic sphere to which women were assigned. She was content with the life of an aristocratic lady, devoting herself to family, religion, charitable works, theater, opera, painting, and music. Her personal correspondence shows neither a liking for nor an understanding of public affairs.87 D. Isabel did not inherit her father’s gravity of manner, iron self-control, or punctuality. She was lighthearted, transparent in her preferences, and rarely on time. Neither she nor her husband possessed the character or the talents to turn the Paço Isabel, their residence in the Laranjeiras district of Rio de Janeiro, into either a political or social center. D. Isabel may not have been an intellectual, but she was not obtuse. Well acquainted with her father’s character traits, she understood his strengths and weaknesses. From time to time she did offer him suggestions for improvement, usually in respect to his public life. On his relations with the cabinet ministers, for example, she commented in March , shortly before he returned from Europe: Don’t judge yourself to be so infallible, show more confidence in them, don’t intervene so much in matters which are entirely within their mandate (and I will have more of your time), and if some day you can no longer give them your confidence or you see that public opinion (the real one) is against them, into the street with them!

Nonetheless, every time she made a suggestion or a criticism, she asked his forgiveness for doing so: “Forgive me for so much boldness, but it is for your good and the good of everyone.”88 The reality was that she would not, perhaps could not, openly defy or quarrel with her adored Papaizinho, “Daddykins.” She was unable to envisage herself as his replacement or his rival. While she was regent, D. Isabel faithfully followed her father’s established routine. She made no innovations and did nothing to assert her independence or establish her own sphere of influence.89 In June , writing her first letter as regent to him, D. Isabel commented: “When Daddy left it seemed to me such a strange thing to see myself in a curious way a kind of emperor without changing my skin, without having a beard, and without having a very large belly.”90 D. Isabel treated her months as regent, from May  to March , as a favor done to her father, a burden she wanted to hand back to him as soon as possible. “In spite of the ministers’ goodwill in sparing me complications and of the interesting and, at times, even diverting side of the regency, what I would give to be already free of it,” D. Isabel told her mother on December , . “Poor Daddy! who has been so much and for so many years kept in harness.”91 She did not perceive the

  

  , ‒ regency as a necessary part of her existence, as a useful training for her eventual reign. She resented her duties as regent because they interfered with the customary round of private activities which for her constituted her proper life. As D. Isabel herself admitted in a letter written to her father while serving as regent, she did not do so alone or unaided. “Above all having Gaston who does a great part of the paperwork for me, I have ample time to sleep as much or more than previously, to take walks, and even to read novels.”92 In his memorandum of advice for D. Isabel, Pedro II assumed that the count d’Eu would be actively involved. “So that no ministry will have the least suspicion of my daughter’s role in public affairs, it is indispensable that my son-in-law, otherwise the natural adviser of my daughter, behaves in a way that gives no hint that he influences, even by his councils, the opinions of my daughter.” Pedro II was confident that his son-in-law “would follow the example of the spouse of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert.”93 Prince Albert’s relationship to Queen Victoria was in reality quite the opposite from what Pedro II assumed it to have been. According to a leading British politician, writing on the day the prince consort died in , the queen had functioned under “the care bestowed, incessantly, and judiciously, by her late husband: her letters were written by him, he was present when she received ministers, nothing small or great was done but by his advice.”94 In the first years of his marriage, the count d’Eu certainly aspired to hold such a role, being not inclined to “confine myself to Laranjeiras and confine myself to books.”95 He had engaged in a constant campaign to be given an active role in state and military affairs, a campaign which his father-in-law just as constantly blocked. There existed small empathy and much rivalry between the two men. By inclination a Liberal in politics, the count d’Eu had both cultivated and been cultivated by the radical Liberals in the years  and .96 The feud, if such it was, between Pedro II and the count d’Eu had ended with Caxias’s sudden return from the war front in February  and with the count’s appointment as commander in chief. For several months the count d’Eu had proved exemplary in his energy, resourcefulness, and decisiveness. In political terms, his suggestion to the provisional government of Paraguay that it abolish slavery in the country placed the count firmly on the side of progressive forces in Brazil. He was well on the way to establishing a power base within the imperial regime.97 Late in  the situation had changed. The count d’Eu experienced what amounted to a nervous breakdown. He became disheartened, cantankerous, and dilatory. The burden of responsibility caused such stress that he fell sick. Worst of all, he lost all confidence in his own abilities. The ambushing and death of López on March , , took the count d’Eu totally by surprise and confirmed his sense of worthlessness. In his letter to Pedro II written on the day he

  

  , ‒ received news of López’s death, he almost explicitly renounced all further attempts to challenge his father-in-law.98 The count’s emotional and physical condition did not improve once he was restored to his wife and a quiet life. The count d’Eu wrote to André Rebouças on May , : “I have returned from Paraguay without any purpose except to rest, laid low in part by my lack of health and in part by the memory of my mistakes. . . . I do not feel that I have the strength to do anything.”99 A month later the count d’Eu told his father, the duke of Nemours: “As for my writing about Paraguay I am totally incapable of doing this henceforward for some time. The Paraguayan war has provided me with some good memories; but it has wiped me out intellectually and has created an invincible repugnance for any prolonged business or work.”100 To depression the count added ill health. In May  Rebouças had noted that “the prince does really have the diarrhea and dyspepsia which he contracted in Paraguay, and from which he suffers intensely.”101 In early June his bronchitis, from which he had long suffered, returned. Throughout the s the count d’Eu’s life was marked by bouts of depression and a succession of different illnesses. The two were linked, since he tended to fall sick after any time of activity and stress, as he had done in October  following the surrender of Uruguaiana.102 His illnesses were to a marked degree psychosomatic, as D. Isabel came to appreciate. In December , she wrote to her mother: Gaston is better today, but still is not well and is very asthmatic. He wrote to Feijó [their doctor] today about his complaints, but I would be very pleased if Feijó could come and spend a day here in order to examine him carefully and drive these ideas of sickness from his head. I am sure that he does suffer; but the imagination can do much and even make illnesses intensify.103

One probable physical consequence of the count d’Eu’s discontents was the deterioration in his hearing. In  his uncle, the Prince de Joinville, had described him as “a little hard of hearing, it is true, but not enough to be a defect.”104 By July , the condition had deteriorated to such an extent that, when the count d’Eu attended his first meeting of the Council of State, “my deafness did not permit me to follow the discussion: that lasted  hours and ½.”105 Deafness had the advantage of explaining the count’s abstention from public affairs and excusing his withdrawal from social activities. If the stresses and worries of the Paraguayan War were the cause of the count d’Eu’s health problems, other factors contributed to prolonging his condition. Following the overthrow of the Orléans monarchy in France in February , the count d’Eu had been at the age of five banished from his own land. His exile from his native soil had been one factor inducing him to marry D. Isabel and settle in Brazil. However, in June , the French National Assembly

  

  , ‒ revoked the banishment and restored its properties to the Orléans family. The count d’Eu’s father and other relatives not only returned to France but also took up positions of real importance in the country.106 He and D. Isabel paid two long visits to Europe in this period, from August  to April  and again from April  to June . During the second visit, the couple spent much time in France, particularly in its capital. “Paris is very pretty, does not resemble any other city, and I am very content to have seen it,” the count d’Eu wrote to his father-in-law. Typically, he added: “But the life which we lead here is very tiring for someone who has as poor health as I do.”107 He alone among the Orléans family could not live permanently in France, the land of his birth. As a result he came to feel himself an outcast and exile in Brazil. This sense of alienation was fed by the lack of sympathy that the count d’Eu increasingly encountered among Brazilians. Although he had led the army to victory in  and , he did not, as might be expected, enjoy loyalty and devotion among the officers he had commanded. Quite the contrary, they had little liking for him, even though they acknowledged his capacity as a general.108 The situation was not much better in political circles. When D. Isabel went to the Senate to take the oath of office as regent, the count d’Eu was excluded from the ceremony. Unwilling to be a simple bystander, watching from a balcony, he refused even to attend. After the Rio Branco cabinet was defeated in the lower house in May , the count d’Eu was not invited to attend the meeting of the Council of State which debated the question of dissolving the Chamber of Deputies.109 Part of the alienation was motivated by the count d’Eu’s own behavior and character. He had the reserve of an aristocrat in a land where cordiality counted for much. He lacked Pedro II’s common touch: “I know how awkward I am with people I don’t know well,” he confessed to his father in .110 His growing deafness made communication increasingly difficult, and because of it he retained a French accent that grated on Brazilian ears, despite their fascination for anything that hailed from France. He could never be other than a foreigner, o francês [the Frenchman]. The count d’Eu also lacked the emperor’s commanding physical presence. He always looked unkempt and unimpressive, his manner gauche and ungracious. In truth, the count’s virtues shone in private life, but in public he could never arouse sympathy.111 When D. Isabel assumed the regency in May , many of the factors causing a lack of popular sentiment for the heir to the throne and her spouse were not yet evident. While it was obvious to all that the government was in reality being directed by the viscount of Rio Branco, the regent and her husband committed no faults and carried out their duties with dignity. Although not a very testing apprenticeship, it did not indicate any problems for the future.112

  

  , ‒ During the regency there occurred the first of a series of events that were to shape D. Isabel’s subsequent life. For the first six years of her married life, D. Isabel bore no children and, the evidence would suggest, never became pregnant. The increasing fear was that she was barren, unlike her sister, D. Leopoldina, who produced four sons before her death in . However, on her return to Brazil from Europe in May , D. Isabel gave signs of having conceived. If the pregnancy were confirmed, her parents agreed to cut short their vacation in Europe and return home in time for the birth. It was not to be. On August , the count d’Eu wrote: “Unfortunately we have to tell you at this time that from our side there is no justification for the short program. For us this is a great cause for disgust.”113 The lack of children by his elder daughter caused Pedro II, when he visited Europe in , to arrange with his widowed son-in-law August of Saxe-CoburgGotha to allow his two oldest sons, Pedro Augusto and Augusto, to be raised in Brazil by their grandparents. The two boys and their father traveled from Europe to Brazil as part of the imperial party. August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha did not stay in Brazil but returned to Europe and a life of pleasure. If D. Isabel remained childless, Pedro Augusto, aged seven at the time of his arrival in , would eventually become emperor.114 In , D. Isabel did at last conceive a child, but in November of that year she suffered a miscarriage late in her pregnancy. The loss left her prone to attacks of depression and sudden fears. The next year she and the count d’Eu traveled to Europe, where she once again conceived. In January  the specialist she consulted in Paris judged her to be three months pregnant. As the count d’Eu carefully explained in a long letter to his father-in-law, D. Isabel’s nervousness about her pregnancy, her dislike of sea travel, and her fears about a stillbirth led her to wish to stay in Europe for the delivery.115 There followed a long exchange of letters, circulation of written medical opinions, and in Brazil consultation of the Council of State. But, of course, it all depended on what Pedro II wanted, and he had already made up his mind. On February , , he wrote from Petrópolis: “I would regret it profoundly if my grandchild, the heir presumptive, were born outside of Brazil.”116 D. Isabel complained and pleaded, but she remained a dutiful daughter and subject. Despite her fears, she and her husband did make the voyage home, arriving at Rio on June . A month later D. Isabel came to term. The outcome is best expressed in the words of D. Teresa Cristina’s letter to Queen Victoria: God in his kindness permitted my dear Isabel to be spared and has only called to himself her poor little daughter. So beautiful that she seemed an angel.

  

  , ‒ Her sufferings were terrible for  hours but her convalescence is taking its natural course and everything makes us hope that she will quickly recover.117

This tragedy, following on the miscarriage of November , had a profound effect on D. Isabel’s character. She had always been sincerely religious and punctual in fulfilling her duties as a Catholic, but her letters make clear that life’s pleasures had first claim on her attention. From November  onward she became exceedingly devout, with much of her time expended on worship and good works (such as helping to clean the parish church of Petrópolis each month). She became a zealous supporter of ultramontanism. In October  after visiting the shrine of Our Lady at Lourdes in France, she sent her mother “a rosary which I got for you Mummy at Lourdes and which has been blessed and touched on the rock of the Virgin and  medals of Our Lady which have also been blessed and placed on the rock.”118 This devotion to religion became even more evident after the disaster of July . It was as if the Catholic Church represented the one rock of certainty in D. Isabel’s life, the one hope that she might still become a mother. Following the stillbirth of her child, D. Isabel’s interest in politics and public affairs, never strong, became minimal. The sole subject which could catch her attention was the rights and the grievances of the Catholic Church. She had always supported the church. At the start of , she had scolded her father for attending the first opening of the Italian parliament in the city of Rome, captured only a year before from the pope. “Two things I don’t approve about your trip: this visit to the Italian parliament and accompanying the prayers in the synagogue when you are not even a Jew!” But this reproach did not compare in its intensity to the tirades she sent to Pedro II from Europe on the subject of the Religious Question.119 These disagreements and her father’s insistence on her returning to Brazil for the birth in no way lessened D. Isabel’s affection and deference: “I well know, Daddy mine, and every day more so, how much you love us. Believe me that it is greatly reciprocated.”120 Despite all that had occurred, she was incapable of breaking with her father and so challenging his position. After her return to Brazil in June , D. Isabel became known among Brazilians as a beata [religious devotee] who staunchly defended the imprisoned clergy. With her indifference to public affairs, her lack of high mindedness, and her narrow circle of friends, she did not conform to what was expected in a ruler. The men who ran public affairs were uneasy from the start about submitting to a female monarch, and D. Isabel’s personality and views did nothing to overcome their bias. Nor did her spouse redress the balance. He seemed a coldhearted, avaricious foreigner about whom it was easy to credit the worst. Without the least shadow of evidence it was widely believed, for example, that he owned and exploited slum properties, cortiços, in Rio city. In sum, if by the early

  

  , ‒ s Pedro II as ruler no longer commanded the loyalty and respect that he had previously enjoyed, the discontented and alienated did not find in his heir and her husband the focus or the leadership for a dynastic opposition. The basic passivity of his daughter and son-in-law facilitated Pedro II’s determination to maintain his control of affairs in Brazil. From the start of , however, he found events turning against him. Despite the government’s orders and threats, the clergy refused to lift the interdict on the irmandades. The northeast was racked by the Quebra-Quilo revolt. Despite a special session of the legislature called in March  to expedite passage of the government’s electoral reform bill, the lower house dragged out the debates. A downturn in the price of coffee on the world market caused a serious decline in the tax revenues. In March the Rio mercantile community was caught up in the financial crash which engulfed the Atlantic world and began the Great Depression of . The crisis forced several banks to close their doors. To one of these the ministry of finance had lent a considerable sum in order that it could meet its commitments to the government. The ensuing scandal over the loan tarnished Rio Branco’s reputation.121 This conjuncture of adverse developments was sufficient to cause the resignation in June  of the Rio Branco cabinet, disunited and weary after four years in office. Pedro II struggled long and hard to persuade the president of the council to soldier on but could not overcome his repugnance for the task.122 Forced to relinquish his favorite politician, the emperor had to look elsewhere. He did not wish to recall the Liberals to office, nor was he willing to entrust power to Paulino Soares de Sousa and the escravocrata faction of the Conservatives. He turned therefore to the duke of Caxias, who had already served twice as president of the council but who, aged almost seventy-two, recently widowed, and in poor health, could not be much more than a figurehead leader. Caxias was more than unwilling to consent. Pedro II knew, however, how to overcome the duke’s resistance, as Caxias later told his own daughter. Believe that when I entered my carriage to go to São Cristóvão, summoned by the emperor, I was determined not to accept. But he, as soon as he saw me, threw his arms around me and said to me that he would not let me go unless I told him that I would accept the post of minister and that, if I refused to do this service, he would summon the Liberals and would have to tell everybody that I was responsible for the consequence, all the while encircling me with his arms. I pointed out to him my circumstances, my age, and my infirmity; but he concurred in nothing. To free myself from him, I should have had to shove him off, and this I could not do. I bowed my head and said that I would do what he wanted but that I was sure that he would have cause for regret, since I would not be minister for long, because I would die from

  

  , ‒ work and troubles. However, he listened to nothing and told me that I should only do what I could but that I must not abandon him, since he would in that case abandon us and go away.”123

For the new cabinet to possess any energy and direction, it needed to include a senior politician of force and standing. To supply this need the emperor turned to the baron of Cotegipe. It was Cotegipe who in February  had remarked that Pedro II “did not want any reform which would deprive him of the means of influencing the Chambers as he does now and of carrying on his system of government.”124 In  Cotegipe had refused to join the Rio Branco cabinet on grounds that it would not undertake to abolish the two-tier electoral system. To be consistent, Cotegipe should have made adoption of direct elections a condition of his entry into the ministry. Instead he joined with his colleagues in accepting the emperor’s desire that the new cabinet push through to enactment the existing Rio Branco proposals on electoral reform.125 Denunciations of the system’s corruption politicians voiced when in opposition were all too often forgotten when they were called into office. This lack of principle bred disgust with the entire political system. Instead of examining their own actions, particularly their failure to curb a hunger for office, most politicians preferred to blame the emperor for their going astray. If the Caxias-Cotegipe cabinet yielded to Pedro II’s opposition to the introduction of a system of direct elections, the ministers did stand up to him on one crucial matter. The cabinet was determined to bring the Religious Question to an end. Soon after taking office, the ministers presented a joint memorandum to Pedro II urging that a general amnesty be granted to all those convicted and charged in the question. The ministers were confident that, the bishops amnestied and released, the Vatican would be quick to lift the interdicts against the irmandades. Pedro II fought with all his strength against this proposal, because he wished to make a retraction of their actions by the bishops a precondition for the amnesty. Once the cabinet made clear that it would resign if denied its wish, he had to give way. The amnesty was issued on September , .126 The measure secured the intended results. The Vatican did lift the interdicts and made clear to the two bishops its unhappiness at their original excess of zeal. However, the Vatican did nothing to moderate its claims to religious authority in Brazil. Pedro II remained similarly convinced of the justice of his cause.127 What rankled most for the emperor at the time of the amnesty was the popular belief that the grant of an unconditional pardon was due to D. Isabel’s religious beliefs. “A reading of today’s newspapers obliges me to insist on the need to declare what is the truth,” Pedro II wrote to the duke of Caxias two days after the issuing of the amnesty. “My daughter in no way influenced my mind

  

  , ‒ nor did she try to have influence in the matter.”128 As ever, Pedro II could not abide the idea that he acted under the control and direction of anybody, even his daughter and heir. If the cabinet annoyed the emperor by insisting on the amnesty, it did please him by steering through the legislature the law of electoral reform establishing the system of partial voting. The speech closing the session on October , , congratulated the legislators on the large number of laws they had passed since , including reform of the National Guard, the system of military conscription, support for railroads, aid to education, creation of more appeal courts, and, finally, electoral reform.129 The measures sounded very well when thus recited, but Pedro II was conscious of how much more could have been and still needed to be achieved. Some weeks later, after reading the draft of the Brazilian catalogue for the Philadelphia Exhibition of , he commented to the viscount of Bom Retiro, his aide in producing the work: Progress has been made but, given our politics and the consequent administration, the task is such as to depress those who want to see Brazil make faster progress. I envisage one remedy; but it would require more than one swallow to risk being plucked. Farewell! When will we be able to have a good flight!130

The cryptic comment about “requiring more than one swallow” implied that if Pedro II had been a dictator, or if he had been able to find politicians of greater boldness, he would have forced the pace of reform. The comment was, in truth, an admission that he was no longer able to dominate and direct public affairs as he had done in past years. The fall of the Rio Branco cabinet marked the end of the activism in his approach to governing Brazil which had begun ten years before, after his triumph at Uruguaiana. The reference to “flight” implies a desire to cast off restraints and to escape from a situation that had become a burden. If the political prospects of Brazil were such as to make the emperor long to escape, the condition of his daughter and his wife gave him a different cause for concern. Thanks to the comforting presence of the countess of Barral, who was on a long visit to Brazil, D. Isabel had recuperated well from the loss of her child. Early in , at the age of twenty-eight, she conceived once more. During this new pregnancy she was subject to fits of depression and strong antipathies. As the count d’Eu, whose conduct during these difficult months seems to have been exemplary, noted in August, “She continues to lament and to say that she does not have the strength to survive this pregnancy.”131 Understandably, D. Isabel insisted that a specialist be brought from France to take charge of the birth, and she won her point. A son was born successfully on October . He received the

  

  , ‒

Figure . D. Isabel, with her first child, Pedro, prince of Grão Pará

name Pedro and became, under clause  of the constitution, prince of Grão Pará. Sadly, the family’s rejoicing at the birth was soon marred by a realization that the baby had little strength in his left hand and arm. During the delivery his shoulder muscles had been damaged and, despite medical treatment lasting several years, D. Pedro’s incapacity could not be overcome.132 In the same period that D. Isabel was undergoing the torment of her pregnancy, her mother was plagued by a variety of illnesses, including attacks of neuralgia. Visiting São Cristóvão in July  the count d’Eu reported that D. Teresa Cristina, then aged fifty-three, was “confined to her chair, poor woman, by a quite fierce pain in her legs,” adding, “I am somewhat concerned that it may become paralysis. However, I am told that she can recover through the use of cold showers which she should take at Novo Friburgo at a hydropathic establishment.”133 The empress’s condition improved sufficiently for her to accompany Pedro II on a month-long visit to São Paulo province in August. By the start of  D. Teresa Cristina’s health had again deteriorated so much that she spent two months taking the water cure at Novo Friburgo, a summer resort in the mountains north of Rio de Janeiro city.134 “The empress had two days of painful suffering. Neuralgia attacked her breast and scalp. It yielded almost at once to

  

  , ‒ chloral,” Pedro II wrote on February . “Since the night of the th she has not had the pains.”135 The weight of political and familial worries bore heavily on Pedro II. “If I haven’t written to you as often as I would have liked,” he informed the count of Gobineau on September , , “it is because business seems to increase every day and I am starting to get tired.”136 Anyone placed as he was might be expected to seek a means of escape, and that in many ways is what Pedro II did. His trip to Europe in – had been too brief to satisfy his desire for knowledge of the world. The U.S. Centennial celebrations to be held in Philadelphia in July  provided a perfect reason for going abroad again, and for seeing North America for the first time. “I dream of my visit to the United States and Europe,” he informed Gobineau in his letter, “but that does not depend entirely on me.” He had contemplated taking such a trip as early as December , and the political and familial problems he faced gave edge and urgency to his desires to get away.137 To finance his first visit to Europe Pedro II borrowed £, ($,), a sum equal to half his annual income. The considerable difficulty he experienced in paying off this debt and in contracting a new loan in no way deterred his determination to go abroad again.138 By the second half of , his plans for an absence of eighteen months were drawn up. “I am going to the United States and from there to Europe where I am counting on seeing you again. I will visit Stockholm in August of next year,” Pedro II informed Gobineau, then serving as French envoy to Sweden. “The second half of April and the month of May  I will spend in Paris.”139 Nothing intervened to prevent the emperor’s carrying out his plans. On March , , the day prior to the imperial party’s departure, he gave his daughter a memorandum of advice just as he had done in . In content this document was far more specific than the first memorandum, its tone much less idealistic and optimistic. Pedro II concentrated his attention on the forthcoming elections to be held under the new system of partial voting. Displaying little faith that the elections would be conducted more fairly than they had previously been, he virtually admitted that the Liberals would have to be admitted to office and allowed to introduce direct elections. “Without mass education there will never be satisfactory elections,” the emperor added. “It is therefore necessary to pay attention to this important subject. There exist measures approved by the relevant authorities and others under consideration by them; what is needed is to achieve their implementation.” Pedro II went on to discuss at considerable length church-state relations, ending with a passage on the selection of bishops: “There are priests worthy of the office without being contaminated by ultramontane principles.” The document closed with an appeal to his daughter not to let the reforms and improvements then under consideration come to a halt.

  

  , ‒ He closed: “I am happy to have finished writing these comments on today’s date [the anniversary of the constitution], because my conscience does not accuse me of having failed to respect the constitution. I may have erred, but not deliberately.”140 The emperor had lost his sense of activism, even his fierce dedication to his allotted task, but he remained unshakably convinced that he was still indispensable to Brazil.

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 

Letting Go, 1876–81

 On March , , Pedro II left Brazil for the second time in his life. Two factors distinguished this from his previous journey abroad. He intended to be away from the country for a year and a half, twice as long as his first trip. During his absence Brazil would have a foretaste of what its existence would be after his death. The emperor, who had recently turned fifty, specifically requested of his daughter during her regency that she “send me only the telegrams indispensable to the conduct of affairs,” and, he added, “Do not do so without first consulting the ministers.” Pedro II was quite deliberately getting out of harness.1 The second factor that distinguished the emperor’s absence from his first journey was the inclusion of the United States on his itinerary. No head of state, and—more importantly—no reigning sovereign had previously paid a visit to the North American republic.2 The United States remained something of an outsider in an international community dominated by the monarchies of Europe. What made Pedro II’s decision the more remarkable was that he had timed his visit so as to coincide with the opening of the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition. This event celebrated the one hundredth anniversary of the declaration of independence in , which had overthrown a monarch to create the first republic in the New World. Symbolically the visit indicated that Pedro II did not consider the maintenance of the imperial regime in Brazil to be of the first importance. In reality, the emperor’s thirst for new experiences and new knowledge and his insistence on doing exactly what he wanted, regardless of the proprieties, were probably what motivated him.3 The fact remained that Pedro II was going first to the United States and then to Europe and that he, a monarch, was honoring the birth of a republic.

O

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 , ‒ The prospect of a reigning monarch attending the Centennial Exhibition flattered American susceptibilities. The New York Herald, scenting a news story it could exploit, dispatched one of its crack journalists to Rio de Janeiro to file background columns on Brazil and then to accompany the imperial couple and their entourage to New York.4 Pedro II, knowing the value of good publicity, let the journalist tag along, not just for the voyage but throughout his entire eight weeks in the United States. It is clear that the emperor enjoyed conversing with James O’Kelly, a man of great intelligence and considerable achievement.5 The emperor sought to improve his spoken English by using it in conversation, but most of the exchanges with O’Kelly took place in French. Pedro II explained his travel plans to the journalist. “I want to see the major industrial centers, to learn things that I can apply to my country, when I return.” He was still driven, as he had been in the s, by the search for melhoramentos [improvements]. Informed that a visit to the Yosemite Valley would require eight days, Pedro II abandoned the idea. “I have too much to occupy me, too much to do so that I cannot travel as a simple tourist, simply for pleasure.” Impressed by all that the emperor intended to undertake, O’Kelly commented: “Your Majesty means to accomplish a great deal in a short time.” “Yes, I am always go-ahead.” “In fact, Your Majesty is quite a Yankee.” “Yes. Certainly, I am a Yankee. I always go ahead.”6 What also impressed the journalist was Pedro II’s meticulous routine, his Sanskrit lesson being held at eleven each morning, “as regular as a clock,” and an English lesson at five in the afternoon. During the three weeks spent on the Hevelius steamship between Rio and New York, O’Kelly and the emperor continued their conversations. Pedro II avoided any discussion of politics but spoke freely about the arts and sciences. “The theater, dramatic or lyric, is my principal relaxation,” he told O’Kelly. The emperor was more than willing, he announced, to visit music halls in New York City. “I like going to popular entertainment to see the people. It is always instructive and diverting.” Pedro II had, O’Kelly learned, read the leading American poets of the day, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, John Greenleaf Whittier, Joaquin Miller, and William Cullen Bryant, and was eager to meet them. When a brilliantly starry night turned the conversation to the likelihood of extraterrestrial life, Pedro II downplayed the possibility. “People are always inclined to theorize and I tend to recommend to the young that they observe a great deal, but theorize little.” On Charles Darwin’s works on evolution, the emperor remarked: “The theory advanced is indisputable, but I don’t agree with the deductions of some of Darwin’s followers.” “I am a supporter of the truth, and the more I read the more I am convinced that all truth is one, and that all the sciences converge on that point—that of truth.”7 In saying this, Pedro II acknowledged his longstanding conviction that science was a manifestation of the divine.

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 , ‒ The emperor found the ten-day passage between Belém do Pará and New York City extremely isolating. “I have the impression of being on the moon, being without newspapers, letters, and information about what is happening.”8 Pedro II more than compensated for this imposed rest by his frenetic activity on reaching New York on April .9 That very same evening he attended a performance of Shakespeare’s King Henry V. Pedro II reported to the countess of Barral, awaiting the imperial party in Europe, that he thought the lead actor “excellent, and I much applauded him in the speech against the ceremonies which vex kings.”10 Upon the king!—let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, lay on the king! We must bear all. . . . What infinite heart’s-ease must kings neglect, That private men enjoy! And what have kings, that privates have not too, Save ceremony,—save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? . . . Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men?

In approving these lines from the first scene of Act Four, the emperor indicated once again his indifference to and his refusal to uphold the dignified role of the monarchy. It was typical of Pedro II’s energy that, following the performance, he first listened to a midnight serenade in his honor at the hotel and then went at one in the morning to inspect the offices and printing works of the New York Herald, a visit that not only satisfied his curiosity but also ensured continued and copious coverage of his visit. The next day, Easter Sunday, the emperor inspected the city water works before he and D. Teresa Cristina attended Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, had their photographs taken by a Brazilian-born photographer, and drove through Central Park. After dinner Pedro II went by himself to a revival meeting given by the popular evangelists Dwight L. Moody and Ira S. Sankey. He finished the day by inspecting the Newsboys’ House, where he was welcomed by the young Teddy Roosevelt, then visited a police precinct and a fire hall. In the evening of the following day, which had been just as full as its predecessor, the emperor crossed the Hudson River to take the train for San Francisco. His companions included the viscount of Bom Retiro and James O’Kelly. D. Teresa Cristina was left behind with her lady-in-waiting and the rest of the party, with instructions to join her husband eventually in Philadelphia. At the New Jer-

  

 , ‒

Figure . Pedro II photographed in New York, April . Probably the most widely distributed photograph of him during his lifetime.

sey railroad terminal, Pedro II’s train left twenty-five minutes late, to his great annoyance. “What an active people—when it is a question of making money! In other respects I find them lazy,” he complained, “and ‘time is money’ applies only when acquiring wealth. What a lack of punctuality in everything else!”11 He also commented unfavorably on the racial segregation that he noticed.12 The trip to the West Coast took six days, with a Sunday layover at Salt Lake City, where the emperor, typically, attended both Catholic and Mormon services. Pedro II found San Francisco “a beautiful city,” somewhat resembling Rio de Janeiro when seen from the bay, which was, he commented, less majestic than that of Rio.13 After five enjoyable days, he set out on the return journey. Visiting the oil fields of Pennsylvania en route, the emperor reached Washington, D.C., on May . Of the Capitol building, he noted: “A most majestic aspect. The architecture as a whole pleased me very much. All the sculpture is mediocre.” Pedro II met President Ulysses S. Grant. “His appearance, uncouth. He speaks sparingly.” General Sherman, whom the emperor encountered later in the day, he found to be “happy and sympathetic.”14 The rest of his time was taken up with an endless round of visits, including the Smithsonian and the National Observatory. The emperor moved on to Philadelphia, where D. Teresa Cristina awaited him. At the opening ceremonies of the Centennial Exhibition on May , Pedro

  

 , ‒ II’s friendliness of manner and genuine interest in the exhibits made it easy for him to outshine President Grant. The high point of the ceremonies occurred in the Machinery Hall, where the two heads of state started the giant Corliss engine which powered more than eight thousand machines. “I have traversed much of the ground where the exhibition buildings stand and I was still unable even to visit all of them,” Pedro II told the countess of Barral. “It is huge, as everything is here. Good taste is what is almost always lacking.”15 Since many of the exhibits were not yet installed, the emperor decided to return to the exhibition in July for a more thorough visit. Accompanied by D. Teresa Cristina, Pedro II traveled to Cincinnati and on to St. Louis, where on May  the party boarded a sternwheeler for a voyage down the Mississippi to New Orleans. The emperor was not greatly impressed by what he saw of the former Confederacy: “For the present I can say nothing, but the North has pleased me much more than has the South.”16 New Orleans, where he found grass growing in the streets, did nothing to modify his opinion, although typically he visited all the classes in one of the new schools for black children. At the close of his visit, he reflected: “We will see what it [the South] will be like in a few years without slavery.”17 Returning to Washington, D.C., by train, the imperial couple were joined by August of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, their widowed son-in-law, newly arrived from Europe. The party traveled north to see the major tourist site in North America. “The [Niagara] falls are most beautiful, although those of Paulo Afonso [in Brazil] are more sublime, falling from a much greater height. I saw them, and contemplated them first from Prospect point, on the American side. The parapet hangs over the falls of that side and looks out to the majestic Horseshoe falls on the Canadian side. All those in the party were photographed near the Prospect.”18 Pedro II then crossed over to Canada and, having donned a yellow oilskin slicker, went under the Horseshoe falls at Table Rock (which no longer exists). The party made a rapid passage through Canada, going by train to Toronto, where the emperor admired the Lunatic Asylum, and on to Kingston, where they boarded a steamer for Montreal. Finally, on June , Pedro II reached Boston, which was to be the high point of his visit to North America.19 The city not only contained all the scientific and cultural institutions the emperor so liked to visit but also possessed a patrician style and good taste he much appreciated. He met endless savants and men of letters, including a young teacher at the School for the Deaf named Alexander Graham Bell, with whom Pedro II talked at length. He took trips out of the city, visiting not only Harvard and Yale universities but also the newly founded women’s colleges of Vassar and Wellesley. His most memorable moments were his meeting with John Greenleaf Whittier at the Radical Club and his dinner at Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s mansion on

  

 , ‒ Brattle Street. The other guests at that meal included Ralph Waldo Emerson and Oliver Wendell Holmes. On June , Pedro II returned to Philadelphia, where, during the next two weeks, he spent four hours a day, starting at seven each morning, in an exhaustive examination of all the stands at the Exhibition. June  was a hot Sunday when the public was excluded and the panel of judges, accompanied by Pedro II and others, could view inventions for the eventual conferring of awards. On this round he encountered the young teacher of the deaf he had already met in Boston. Pedro II drew the attention of the judges, led by Sir William Thompson, the future Lord Kelvin, to Alexander Graham Bell and his invention. There followed a public testing of the telephone, which convinced the judges to give Bell an award. An apparatus still very much in the teething stage received indispensable publicity and credibility.20 On July , the day following his attendance at the official Centennial celebrations in Independence Hall, the emperor left Philadelphia for New York, where he spent the final week of his stay in the customary whirl of activity. At a gala meeting of the American Geographical Society, he was elected a member. A principal speaker at the meeting declared: “I am sure that no distinguished stranger ever came among us who, at the end of three months, seemed so little a stranger and so much a friend to the whole American people as Dom Pedro II of Brazil.”21 It was the fitting close to a visit that had been an unalloyed triumph, generating in the popular imagination a favorable image of Brazil sharply different from that of the rest of Latin America, and giving profound satisfaction to the emperor himself. The ensuing months spent in Europe and the Middle East can be truly termed an odyssey. Leaving his wife at the spa of Bad Gastein in Austria, the emperor went first to Bayreuth. There he attended the inaugural performance of Die Rheingold and in the same evening listened to Franz Liszt playing the piano and talked to Richard Wagner.22 The emperor traveled through Denmark, Sweden, and the Finnish lakes. In Russia, accompanied by the count of Gobineau, Pedro II visited St. Petersburg, Moscow, Nizhny-Novgorod, and Odessa. On October , Pedro II reached Constantinople, where his wife and the countess of Barral awaited him. Having been shown the ruins of Troy by Heinrich Schliemann, their discoverer, the imperial party moved on to Athens. A stay of four weeks was hardly sufficient to admire the Acropolis and other antiquities. “Of my stay in Greece I retain indelible memories,” he later remarked.23 At Athens both the countess of Barral and the count of Gobineau made their farewells, while the imperial party sailed to Smyrna and on to Beirut. There followed a long slow journey, the emperor on horseback and the empress in a litter, from Beirut to Damascus, Nazareth, and Jerusalem. The Holy Land

  

 , ‒

Figure . Luís Pedreira do Couto Ferraz, viscount of Bom Retiro, senator, councilor of state, and Pedro II’s closest associate who accompanied the emperor abroad in ‒ and in ‒. Photographed at Vienna in March .

aroused in Pedro II an intensity of religious feeling not usually apparent in his writing. On his fifty-first birthday, December , , he went to confession and took communion in the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. From Palestine the imperial party moved on to Egypt, which the emperor had already visited in . For the first time he sailed up the Nile, visiting the “magnificent ruins” at Karnak, the “beautiful temple” of Abu-Simmel, and the antiquities at Aswan.24 On his own he even reached as far south as Wadi-Haifi and the second cataract of the Nile. It was at Karnak, standing in the gate of the great temple, that Pedro II “adored God, creator of everything that is beautiful, turned toward my two countries, Brazil and France, the latter the country of my intellect and the former the country of my heart and my birth.”25 On January , , the emperor and his party left Egypt, sailing to Messina. Visits to Syracuse, Naples, Rome, Florence, and Venice consumed six weeks. Each city possessed different delights to which Pedro II responded with undiminished energy and enjoyment. Berlin, after two weeks in Vienna, appealed strongly, in part because he enjoyed the company of the Crown Princess of Germany, Queen Victoria’s daughter, and her husband.26 On April , , the impe-

  

 , ‒ rial party finally reached Paris, the capital of what was for Pedro II “the country of my intellect.” His two months in France were marked by two memorable if very dissimilar achievements. On May , Pedro II was installed as an associé étranger [foreign associate] of the Académie des Sciences, one of the six academies that made up the Institut de France, the sanctum of knowledge in the nineteenth-century world. His standing as a savant thus received official sanction. Two days later, on May , Pedro II set his royal rank aside and paid a personal visit to Victor Hugo, the embodiment of both literature and republicanism in France. The encounter went off well, the two men cooperating to make their meeting a public relations triumph enhancing the image of both. For Victor Hugo the imperial visit brought respectability and prestige, while the meeting confirmed Pedro II’s status as a monarch who was also a friend of literature. Victor Hugo wrote on the photograph he left with the emperor after the visit: “À celui qui a pour ancêtre Marc Aurèle” [To he who has Marcus Aurelius as his ancestor].27 Pedro II traveled in June  from Paris to England, where the imperial couple went to lunch at Windsor Castle. “It cannot be said what he has not seen & done!” Queen Victoria noted in exasperated amazement in her diary. “He begins the day at  in the morning and remains up late at parties!”28 The queen had been forewarned by her eldest daughter’s reports from Berlin: “The Emperor of Brazil’s visit keeps us considerably on our legs! His power of seeing and visiting is something prodigious; but he is really so kind and amiable and agreeable that it is a great pleasure to be with him; the Empress too is so kind—and so goodnatured, always satisfied with everything and in a good humor. How dreadfully tiring it must be to travel about like that, when one is no longer quite young.” A few days later, the crown princess of Germany had told her mother: “The Empress is really almost the kindest soul I ever saw. He [Pedro II] owned to her ‘je suis pourtant un peu fatigué’ [I am indeed a little tired]—but for all that not an item is taken off the programme.”29 The crown princess had observed one of the few instances in which Pedro II publicly admitted to fatigue. For Pedro II, the eighteen months abroad achieved everything he desired. At Boston he had dined with two of his favorite authors, at Athens had (in company with the countess of Barral) seen the Acropolis bathed in moonlight, at Paris had been accepted as an equal by those who represented the triumphs of the beautiful and of civilization. It was a time of sheer delight during which he had behaved exactly as he wanted. Queen Victoria was not amused. “But to come to the State Ball and Concert in a frock coat—with a black cravat and boots—is really quite incomprehensible and shocked people here very much,” she complained to her daughter in Berlin.30 Black tie and boots were the least of the emperor’s peccadilloes. During his

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 , ‒

Figure . D. Teresa Cristina photographed at Coburg in ‒

first trip to Europe in  he had made the acquaintance of a number of aristocratic women. These acquaintances he now renewed. Frederica Planat de la Faye, an elderly widow, appealed to him by reason of her culture and her liberal views. She was, she had written to Pedro II in , a Christian without dogmas, “celle de [William E.] Channing.” When at Boston he had plucked a laurel leaf from the bush overlooking the grave of the founder of American Unitarianism and mailed it to her.31 Another acquaintance since  stood at the other end of the religious spectrum. The daughter of a noted French savant, the count Jaubert, Claire, viscountess Benoist d’Azy, had married into an aristocratic family noted for its conservatism and Catholicism. Pedro II particularly admired “her long, fine-boned face,” “her beautiful eyes,” and “her penetrating glance.” Her mind, dominated by pious sentiment, did not rise above the commonplace, but the emperor was sufficiently enamored to adapt himself to her views.32 A third woman with whom Pedro II quietly renewed his acquaintance in  was Anna von Baligand, the wife of an army officer who was also a chamberlain at the court of Bavaria.33 The emperor was taken by her blonde looks, by her cosmopolitan background, and, above all, by a shared interest in “the music of

  

 , ‒ the future.” It was the Baligands who arranged seats for the premiere of Richard Wagner’s Das Rheingold, which he saw in their company.34 Despite Max von Baligand’s position, the couple was not well off, and Pedro II gave them discreet financial support.35 Pedro II also extended his network of amorous friendships. When in Sweden late in August , he made acquaintance with Alice de Kantzow, whose greatgrandfather had been the first Swedish minister in Rio de Janeiro. The emperor exchanged photographs and remained in correspondence with her until his death.36 Pedro II may have met Alice de Kantzow through the count of Gobineau, then French envoy at Stockholm, who was certainly responsible for arranging for him to meet Mathilde-Marie, countess de La Tour.37 Separated from her husband, an Italian diplomat, the countess lived in Rome, trying to establish herself as a professional painter. “Here a woman who has talent, who would like to pursue an artistic career, and who would like to alleviate through her work the difficulties of her financial position absolutely cannot do so,” she commented to him on one occasion, “firstly because she is a woman, and next because she is a woman of breeding.” The countess possessed both charm and an honest directness that clearly fascinated “Cato,” her pet name for the emperor. In his letters to her he was far more frank and revealing of his inner feelings than was his custom.38 None of these old and new friends measured up to Anne de Villeneuve, “whose supreme loveliness is remembered by all those who knew her, as one of the most extraordinary things in the world,” the wife of a Russian diplomat recalled. “Her face, with its Madonnalike expression, had not one feature which could be criticised, or even not admired. No Greek sculptor ever devised anything more perfect. When she entered a room, dressed in white, with diamond stars in her dark hair, it seemed as if a goddess had suddenly appeared.”39 Pedro II first met her at the end of July  in a hotel at Frankfort-am-Main, and her beauty both overwhelmed and frightened him: She later recalled “that hotel where I saw you and where my heart shrank so sadly before your coldness.”40 The countess of Barral, reporting the encounter to D. Isabel, wondered: “Given his admiration for the beautiful, what caused this hostility on his part?”41 Ten months later in Paris, on June , , Anne de Villeneuve obtained a private audience with the emperor to complain of his unfriendliness toward her and her husband.42 The meeting ignited in Pedro II a flame of physical desire that consumed his usual reticence and self-control. “When will the delicious moment arrive when we can throw ourselves into each other’s arms?” he wrote to her in . “If I could, I would always be sufficiently close to where you live to make you enjoy at least once a day my boundless passion. Believe me when I tell you that I was insatiable for everything about you.”43 The countess recipro-

  

 , ‒ cated the imperial passion, “but I can’t let myself be carried away by the same pleasure in those fantasies which console you and which you ask of me.”44 Given all these licit and illicit activities which filled Pedro II’s days in Europe, it is no wonder that D. Isabel complained on June , : Daddy mine, why don’t you write to me any more? Believe me that I spent a good part of last night meditating on this and, I tell you, even in tears, thinking that perhaps Daddy may be angry with me. Tell me that you have nothing against me, that you love me as formerly so that I will be well pleased, my Daddykins! What I am told and think is that your failure to write is probably caused by the turmoil in which you live. Write to me, my goodykins, badykins. From Mummy I have always received letters.45

The unhappiness and uncertainty evident in this letter was caused by more than a momentary depression. D. Isabel’s life had not run smoothly since her father’s departure. In September  she experienced a two-months miscarriage and, when she composed her letter of reproach in June, she was pregnant again. In order to avoid another miscarriage she was forced to spend much time in bed.46 In view of the state of the princess’s health and the count d’Eu’s customary illnesses, “we have completely given up visits to public establishments, lectures, and institutes which depress us so much. We experience sufficient pain and suffering from diplomatic receptions, audiences for the poor, and other nuisances in the household which never end.”47 In sum, the regent and her spouse ceased to maintain the constant and varied contacts with the Brazilian public outside of the palace that had been so much a part of Pedro II’s style of ruling. Realizing that D. Isabel’s religious zeal was not popular, the couple used it as a reason for avoiding an active life. “I truly believe,” wrote the count d’Eu to the countess of Barral, “that people who are in the government do very well to eclipse themselves from time to time, and when the Princess is no longer seen every day in the streets of Rio, she is forgotten for a while and there is less temptation to denounce each of her acts and decisions to a discontented public.”48 In terms of politics, D. Isabel’s second regency brought no good fortune. She exerted little or no control over the cabinet ministers, who had little respect for her and her talents. The ministers’ constant concern was to do nothing which would provoke a major political crisis in the emperor’s absence, since they had no confidence in the regent’s capacity to find a solution.49 The elections held late in  under the new system of the partial vote were conducted as dishonestly and as violently as any previously held. The ministry secured a large majority, but did not use it to achieve anything of consequence. The duke of Caxias was too old and too sick to provide leadership, and, in August , the opposition accused the baron of Cotegipe of involvement in a customs house scandal. He

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 , ‒ was the sleeping partner in a commercial firm which had been convicted of avoiding customs duties by declaring clothing made of expensive poplin to be of lesser quality. Although Cotegipe had not been directly involved, his conduct in the “poplins affair” showed extremely poor judgment. His prestige fell very low.50 A more serious difficulty for the ministry was the great drought which struck the interior of the northeast early in . The drought disrupted the entire structure of society, and the machinery of government proved utterly incapable of handling the emergency.51 As a consequence of these developments, the emperor’s return to Brazil was keenly awaited. Governing Brazil gave no pleasure to D. Isabel, and she stated that “with this life Gaston will never get well.”52 The duke of Caxias’s health deteriorated to the point that he thought only of leaving office. The political and financial problems facing the nation made many Brazilians desire a change in the direction of affairs that only the emperor could arrange. Pedro II returned to Rio on September , , but clearly he did not do so willingly. At Odessa, twelve months before, he had discussed with the count of Gobineau whether he could stand going back to his duties. He surmised that, once back in the routine, he would find it all bearable. So it turned out, he informed Gobineau a few days after his arrival at Rio. “As you will observe, he has courageously gone back into harness,” the count d’Eu told the countess of Barral, “and everything has returned to its normal course.”53 However, the circumstances of the emperor’s return in  were very different from those of . Then he had been buoyed up by the passage of the Law of Free Birth, armed with a program of reforms he believed in, and sure of the assistance of a president of the council whom he esteemed. Now he had no fresh vision or new plans for Brazil, nor did he have available a politician he trusted. Further, he realized that he could no longer resist the public’s demand for the introduction of direct elections, the reform which, he believed, could be enacted only by means of a formal amendment to the constitution. As to the attitude among Brazilians toward the emperor after his long absence, the count d’Eu sent the countess of Barral a revealing and quite shrewd assessment three days after Pedro II’s return: The truth is, I believe, that everybody is very happy to see the emperor back, because it is expected that he will continue to do much for the country; the finances above all depend greatly on him to maintain their standing and so to prevent the fear of a catastrophe which, desired by some visionaries, would be the ruin of all. But this admiration which it has become customary to feel for his patriotism and his wisdom has been lessened by the spectacle of this prolonged expenditure of time and of effort devoted to things for the

  

 , ‒ most part useless to the country and some of them even childish and unsuitable. Even the applause of the foreign savants did not sound entirely well in the national hearing: it appears as if he went off on a quest for this foreign support, making clear there that he was not satisfied with the affections shown here. In sum, trips of this type have as their result a lessening of that veneration which a great part of the population would be entirely disposed to feel for the monarchy.54

The count d’Eu’s acerbic tone stemmed in part from his resentment at Pedro II’s treatment of D. Isabel on the day of his return. Not only did the emperor fail to confer with his daughter on what had happened during her regency but he also immediately excluded her from any part in state affairs.55 He issued a statement: “I want it to be known that throughout my entire journey of  months I did not send to H. H. the Regent or to any of the ministers a single telegram on the country’s affairs.” While the count d’Eu admitted that the statement was accurate, “This hurry to distance himself from any responsibility for what it was possible to do during this period has given rise to numerous commentaries in the press.”56 The emperor’s snub of his daughter in terms of her political action was paralleled by his treatment of her in respect to her latest pregnancy. D. Isabel insisted that Dr. Jean Marie Depaul, the French specialist who had been present at her son’s birth in , be brought to Brazil to attend her.57 From her father she received no support. When approached on the subject after his return, he told the count d’Eu: “You know my opinion in that respect. I believe that you are wrong,” and he refused to discuss the topic further.58 Fortunately for D. Isabel, the birth on January , , of her second son, D. Luís, proved comparatively easy. “The event was not without its emotional side, and we feel truly happy, so thankful and happy (as one so often reads in the book by Q. Victoria). To have two healthy children, after so many problems, that surpasses what I could have dared to hope for.”59 Pedro II’s refusal to give support to his daughter stemmed in part from his unwillingness to be beholden to anyone else, not even his own flesh and blood. He was not willing that they and their needs should limit his freedom to do as he wished. His attitude also reflected his growing dislike of anything which disrupted or threatened his established way of life. He clung doggedly to the known and the familiar. About a visit Pedro II made to Petrópolis at the end of November, the count d’Eu wrote: “Father has never seemed to us so somber and so taciturn; even his daughter was shocked by it.” “He then ensconced himself in the billiard room . . . and not one word for at least two hours, even though he was alone with his daughter.”60 When change had to come, he tried to restrict its

  

 , ‒ impact to the minimum and to maintain the status quo as intact as possible. Such was the case with the adoption of a system of direct elections, a political drama which occupied public attention from the start of  to the end of . The drama opened with the fall of the Conservative cabinet. As a result of the duke of Caxias’s sickness and the emperor’s obvious distrust of the baron of Cotegipe’s personal integrity as minister of finance, the ministers agreed to offer their collective resignation. Before taking any definitive action on the request, the emperor first consulted with the speakers of the Senate and Chamber of Deputies.61 On the last day of  he wrote to Caxias: Sr. Duke, Paulino [Soares de Sousa Jr.] and [the viscount of] Jaguarí have just been here. Either of them, if he were president of the council, would introduce, in the next legislative session, direct elections. I consulted them about opinion within the Conservative party and Paulino replied that his party in general wanted this reform. Therefore, both the parties want it and I have no alternative but to find it opportune, feeling that the Liberal party, which has from the first and constantly fought for it, ought to be the one which enacts it. Please advise [João Lins Vieira] Cansanção [de Sinimbu, the senior Liberal leader] that I want to speak with him. If he is in Rio, he can come to see me this very day until midnight at São Cristóvão, and if in Nova Friburgo, telegraph him. I am going to spend tomorrow with my family, in Petrópolis, but I will be back here, the following day, before  .. I trust you are feeling better.62

Among Pedro II’s papers exists the original draft of this halfhearted and not very gracious letter. The wording of the draft differs on several unimportant points from that of the letter which was sent, but one change which Pedro II made to the draft is crucial: “Therefore, both the parties want it and I have no alternative but to find it opportune.”63 The emperor was in no way convinced of the reform’s necessity. He would give way to the popular demand for it, but, as the amended wording showed, he would do nothing to favor or facilitate the measure. Pedro II’s decision to accept the resignation of the Caxias-Cotegipe cabinet and to call the Liberals into office marked the end of a distinct phase in his reign. The years from  to  had been a hard apprenticeship during which, after a dismal start, Pedro II learned the arts of management. Between  and , it can be fairly said that the politicians proposed and the emperor disposed. Pedro II then seized the initiative in affairs of state, securing total victory in the war with Paraguay, forcing adoption of the Law of Free Birth, and backing a moderate program of internal reforms and improvements. During this third phase the

  

 , ‒ emperor had, in Joaquim Nabuco’s words, “set the agenda of the administration, now in one direction, now in another; he alone knew the true destination of the voyage.”64 At the end of , the balance once again shifted. The emperor still oversaw the formal apparatus of government. His signature continued to be necessary for the conduct of state business. He retained his skill at political management. Nevertheless, Pedro II increasingly stood on the defensive, no longer master of all the country’s affairs. More and more, Brazilians ceased to regard him as indispensable, to defer to his preferences. He no longer held the initiative or set the agenda. Events in Brazil moved with less reference to what was discussed and decided in the sala de despachos at São Cristóvão. The politician whom Pedro II summoned in January  to become president of the council was the accepted head of the Liberal party.65 While an advocate of constitutional reform, João Lins Cansanção de Sinimbu was not by origin or by experience a radical. Sinimbu took his last name from his family’s plantation in Alagoas, which he himself managed. He held a doctorate in law from the University of Iena, Germany, where he had married. Sixty-seven years old, he had first served as a deputy in  and first become a minister in . He was therefore accustomed to dealing with the emperor, to whom he showed, in the view of radical Liberals, far too much deference. A more serious charge against Sinimbu was that he lacked the arts of management, being prone to blunder into violent confrontations with his opponents.66 Since the Liberal party was an undisciplined coalition of disparate elements, and since constitutional reform was bound to be controversial, the new president of the council needed to display exceptional deftness in his handling of affairs. The Sinimbu cabinet did not enjoy a smooth course. Despite promises of moderation and tolerance, the new ministry purged the government apparatus from top to bottom, installing Liberals wherever possible. Rather than meeting the existing legislature, the cabinet dissolved the Chamber of Deputies in April . The ensuing elections were so suborned that the new house contained not a single member of the Conservative party. The bill authorizing constitutional reform that the ministry introduced in February  was extremely cautious. It firstly sought to specify the exact terms of the constitutional amendments that the Chamber with constituent powers was to enact, thus depriving that body of any autonomy of action. Secondly, the proposals severely restricted the right to vote, withholding it for the first time from the illiterate. Not surprisingly, the conservatism of the bill aroused intense opposition within the Chamber of Deputies.67 The bill successfully passed the lower house in May  and was sent up to the Senate, where it was referred to the committees on legislation and on the constitution. The upper house showed itself in no hurry to discuss the measure.

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 , ‒ Those senators with close links to the emperor had long been sounding him out as to his attitude toward the bill, and it was clear to them that its defeat by the upper house would not incur his active displeasure.68 The bill’s opponents in the Senate differed fundamentally among themselves in their reasons for defeating the measure. The joint report of the two Senate committees did no more than recommend rejection of the project. No debate occurred beyond a speech by the president of the council, and the bill was resoundingly defeated in November . “The Senate has rejected electoral reform,” the emperor told the countess of Barral. “I don’t believe that it acted prudently, but everything will eventually be arranged without major inconvenience.”69 Denied the emperor’s active support, the Sinimbu cabinet had from the start enjoyed scant prospects for success. Pedro II left the cabinet alone to work out its salvation. Lacking an effective riposte to the Senate’s action, the ministry experienced increasing frustration and loss of prestige. At the start of , the cabinet’s position was gravely weakened by the Vintém [Dime] Riot, a day of popular protest in Rio de Janeiro city against the collection of a tax on streetcar fares recently imposed by the minister of finance.70 By the use of brute force the government overcame the rioters, but the bloodshed disturbed and alienated the emperor. In the middle of January , writing to the countess of Barral, he burst out: Politics in our country are ever more unpleasant to understand. Rivalries and more rivalries for what is so little to be coveted. They even think that what they have said and written will dishearten me! If they see me sad, it is due to the lack of patriotism and good judgment and to the necessity for using force.71

Given the emperor’s mood, the ministry had little chance of persuading him to authorize the response it eventually proposed to the Senate’s defeat of the electoral reform bill. Dissolving the Chamber of Deputies and the holding of new elections would, the cabinet claimed, demonstrate the popular support that the government’s measure enjoyed and force the Senate to yield. Late in February the unfolding course of events was graphically related in a letter sent by João Ferreira de Moura, the minister of the navy, to his political mentor José Antônio Saraiva, a senator from Bahia province. On the day of the st inst., having previously so warned the Crown, the ministry informed him in despacho that the moment for the dissolution [of the Chamber] had arrived. Given the gravity of the question, it was thought appropriate to state that the ministry would be quick to resign should it be possible to organize another which . . . could obtain from the Senate the same reform while retaining the existing chamber.

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 , ‒ The Crown, having heard this formal statement, seemed to ponder, seemed to argue, seemed to vacillate, and finally without delivering any opinion, without reaching any conclusion said that he needed to consult the Council of State.72

The emperor’s letters to the countess of Barral provide an insight into his reaction when informed of the cabinet’s intention to request an immediate dissolution of the lower house. Writing on February , two days before he met the cabinet, he told her: In effect I am in the line of fire and I am not abandoning the breach. I know that I am carrying out my duty and I sleep tranquilly. Nothing frightens me, and they know that they won’t get from me anything which I don’t judge useful for Brazil. The year is progressing badly. I was never a supporter of electoral reform. The parties are the one who want it and perhaps also many individuals do so as a means of defeating or overthrowing their opponents. The true remedy for elections as they have been conducted is what I have always preached—greater morality on the part of the authorities. Most of those who have not abused it seem to have acted like [Pontius] Pilate. God grant that I be not mistaken as to the consequences of the reform, which has met and will meet with problems, since they did not follow my opinion in respect to the role of the Senate, which did, however, act imprudently.73

Pedro II closed this diatribe by confessing: “I repeat that it is very difficult to be a monarch in the present era. I do have the consolation that I have worked conscientiously to implant the system of our Constitution.” The words reveal more than he probably intended. New ideas, new centers of power, new demands were fast emerging. Now well into middle age, approaching his fiftyfifth birthday, Pedro II simply could or would not adapt himself or his system of governing to evolving conditions. The type of rule he had for a generation and more given to Brazil—implanting “the system of our Constitution”—no longer sufficed or satisfied. By refusing to accommodate to the coming of mass politics, Pedro II was slowly letting go. He was giving up the essence of power. Pedro II’s comments to the countess of Barral on February  show that the emperor had no intention of granting the cabinet’s request for a dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies. His suggestion that the request be referred to the Council of State was simply a tactic to gain time, as João Ferreira de Moura appreciated. This council, always consulted and never heeded, met yesterday at  in the afternoon. The ministry did not wish to attend the debate and withdrew to another room.

  

 , ‒ The comedy concluded, we went to the meeting room for despachos and sat in our places. The king announced to us the result of the consultation, stating that only  of  councilors agreed to a dissolution.74 He tried to give a précis of the discussion and, not being able or not wishing to do so, pointed out that the councilors against the dissolution advanced no new argument, because all the objections presented had already been debated and refuted. He ended by saying that he had not yet made up his mind and that he needed a few more days to come to a decision. The president of the council pointed out to him that this delay placed us in a weak and false position and that from this might arise the resignation of a minister (referring to himself ), and to this remark the king replied that he would not pursue the discussion. He thought for a while and then turning directly to Sinimbu said to him: Let us talk alone in another room. They got up, and we ridiculous undersecretaries had to await the secret conclave of the two. There have been more than a few of these humiliating episodes which make up the story of these current  undersecretaries. This however surpassed them all and would fail to dismay only those who, blinded by the advantage of the uniform [of a minister], forget personal dignity. I, the most insignificant of all, had the urge to leave my [ministerial] portfolio on the table and to go home, asking for my dismissal. However I did some reflection, and seeing that I do not own myself and that I have to give account to those who have placed me here, I contained myself, . . . 75

After several more comments on his feelings of resentment and on his desire to resign, João Ferreira de Moura took up his account: Once the imperial and secret discussion with the president of the council was finished, they both returned and took their seats. Nothing more was said in respect to the dissolution during the despacho! The decrees were signed and no other business was transacted. The meeting finished, the king withdrew and we were by ourselves. At this moment we sought to hear from the president of the council the solution to the question, which we had not had the honor to discuss. The president of the council then told us that it was his duty to tell us everything with frankness and truth. All attentive, we heard the following statement, which would be considered unbelievable were it not that throughout the reign of H. M. Sr. D. Pedro  public affairs have been an uninterrupted series of faits accomplis: He told us that the king had agreed to grant him the dissolution but that first it was necessary to consult Conselheiro Saraiva [the letter’s recipient]

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 , ‒ confidentially to see if he would accept power on the condition of not dissolving the chamber and of upholding the reform project as it had been presented last year. The president of the council told us as well that he had immediately pointed out to the king that Y. E. would not accept, because you had other ideas in respect to the way in which the reform would be enacted. He [Pedro II] insisted, saying that by proceeding in this manner we would have a negative response and could better justify the dissolution, without making it appear to the public that he had a personal interest in upholding the cabinet at all costs. At this point [the marquis of] Paranaguá declared that, from a private letter which Y. E. had written a few days ago, he was able to give an immediate assurance of your refusal. Y. E. would give us total support but would not in any way enter that dead end. We all, without a single exception, confirmed that you would not accept, and we said that it was pointless to involve ourselves in this. However, we agreed to a consultation since it would give cause for a dissolution as soon as the reply arrived.76

Having denounced the proposed consultation as an expedient unworthy of everyone involved, the minister continued: Today’s pretext—arranged in secret—may perhaps have a great significance for the future, perhaps it may equally be a pretext for one of those unexpected evolutions so frequent in the personalistic reign of H. M. It is true that, in one of those confidences that have been so uncommon in the case of the present cabinet, we heard the king say last week that the reform ought to be carried out by the Liberal party. I believe this, not because of the imperial statement, but because if he lets himself be defeated by the Conservatives in the Senate, he will in moral terms have abdicated. Turning to the Conservatives would mean the victory of the Senate, a body with life membership and with no accountability. The struggle is being waged between the power of the Senate and the attributes of the regulating power, which was, as everybody knows, the author of the present project; and which publicly declared in the letter to Caxias that it overthrew the Conservatives in order that the reform should be by the Liberals. We should not therefore fear a change in politics before the passage of the reform. The bulls are fighting to the enjoyment of those who occupy the bleachers. I have finally finished my narrative motivated by the duties of political loyalty and by the friendship I bear you. We, the clerks of H. M., will continue to pretend to be ministers in all this

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 , ‒ farce. I am, as I have said, awaiting the opportunity to resign; I prefer to compromise myself rather than to give cause for disgust to the party which is said to be in power.77

This long, caustic letter, simultaneously insightful and self-justifying, was written with all the bitterness of defeat. The emperor’s reaction to the encounter described by the minister was to discount it. Writing to the countess of Barral about his activities on February , he stated: “I had a meeting of the Council of State and a despacho. I interrupted the weekly audience to have dinner and now at . I am reading lying down.”78 One week later, writing from Petrópolis, Pedro II brought the countess up to date on the course of events. The cabinet had resigned, and Pedro II had, as intended, asked José Antônio Saraiva to form a cabinet and to find a way out of the impasse existing on the electoral reform question. —A despacho in the morning. Believe me that the decision I made was taken after much thought. I trust that Saraiva will fulfill the public expectation of him. I very much regret the resignation of Sinimbu, who is an excellent person. He did a great deal contrary to my opinion, and it put him in a compromising position which I believe would have been complicated by the dissolution of the Chamber.79

The politician designated to form a cabinet was at that moment residing on his fazenda in Bahia province. José Antônio Saraiva took his time in coming to Rio de Janeiro. This delay was typical of Saraiva, who was skilled at building up his reputation as the indispensable man in politics and equally adept at not putting that reputation at risk. He fiercely defended his independence of action, particularly in respect to the emperor.80 Saraiva knew exactly how to handle Pedro II. In , when the young emperor visited the São Paulo law school, it was Saraiva, a student there, who wrote the extremely perceptive analysis of Pedro II’s character, noting that “he has gone about on foot like a simple citizen, accompanied only by those who want to be with him with no ceremony whatsoever; the distance which in the côrte separated him from the people has disappeared and this without the least loss to his dignity, since his prudence and his good manners cause everyone to esteem and respect him.”81 In part because Saraiva avoided any action threatening the emperor’s autonomy and control, Pedro II allowed him a latitude of action he granted to few other politicians. Saraiva was a liberal in the same fashion as the emperor. Both cherished the traditional rights and freedoms of the citizen, but they both balked at embarking on any radical change to the existing socioeconomic order.82 The new cabinet, finally formed on March , , took the view that the wording of articles  to  of the constitution was not incompatible with a sys-

  

 , ‒

Figure . José Antônio Saraiva, Liberal party leader, senator, twice president of the Council of Ministers

tem of direct elections and, accordingly, that enactment of electoral reform did not require a constitutional amendment. The Saraiva ministry proceeded by way of an ordinary law, which of course required the consent of the Senate and the emperor.83 The cabinet’s bill abolished the distinction between “electors” and “voters,” set up a system of voter registration quite separate from the holding of elections, and restored the single-member constituencies used in the  elections. The measures took seven months to pass through the legislature. On December , Pedro II told the countess of Barral: No news, except that the Senate passed in rd reading the most important part of the electoral reform in accord with the ministry’s ideas. I believe that after two years of work the reform will triumph, although improperly enacted according to my way of thinking. I trust that the result may be what I desire and what those who have carried out the reform desire.84

The legislature completed work on the bill on January , , and two days later the act was promulgated. As Pedro II’s letters to the countess of Barral reveal, he had no qualms about his handling of the electoral reform question. He had satisfied popular demand for change without either provoking a disruption of the political system or allowing any derogation of his own autonomy as ruler. The law promulgated on

  

 , ‒ January , , enjoyed wide acceptance among Brazilians. “Everyone here wants to have the credit of achieving a revolution in existing bad habits through the implementation of the new electoral law,” the emperor sourly observed in March . “May that be the case!”85 The elections held on October  were the most honest ever seen in Brazil, thanks in large part to José Antônio Saraiva’s vigilance in preventing coercion and fraud. So honest did the elections prove that two of the cabinet ministers went down to defeat, an unprecedented occurrence. The new Chamber of Deputies contained seventy-five Liberals and fortyseven Conservatives. The electoral reform law of January , , was hailed as a triumph because it had, on its first test, produced honest elections. However, a moment’s reflection would have revealed the fundamental flaw in the new system. Although it abolished the distinction between “electors” and “voters,” the law deliberately made the requirements for holding the franchise, based on proof of annual income, so restricted and so difficult to meet that only ninety-six thousand out of at least two million free male adults registered to vote in the first elections held under the new law.86 The consequence was that, as a leading opponent of the original Sinimbu bill observed in the Chamber of Deputies, “in this country the pyramid of power rests on its point, not on its base.”87 The situation was in fact more serious than the politician’s quip suggests, because the law’s provisions were deliberately structured so as to deny the franchise to urban workers, particularly wage earners, some of whom had until then been “voters.” The justification for this exclusion was that voters had to possess an independent income so that they could not be suborned or coerced. In fact, a dislike and distrust of mass politics among the ruling circles motivated these provisions. An entire section of the Brazilian population which in other respects, such as literacy, qualified as citizens was thus eliminated from the political process. The regime identified itself as being exclusive and hostile to new social forces. It was a recipe for extinction. There is no evidence that Pedro II objected to or tried to prevent the wholesale disenfranchisement of so many of the former “voters.” Since he was “always against universal suffrage and in favor of the vote for those who demonstrate an ability to read and write,” and since a good part of the newly disenfranchised were not literate, the law’s provisions probably bothered him little.88 The emperor’s failure to intervene on their behalf showed how conservative he had become by , and his inaction made dubious his claim to be the guardian of the rights of all his fellow citizens. Far more serious was Pedro II’s failure to secure electoral reform by means of an amendment to the constitution. As he admitted, the reform was “improperly enacted according to my way of thinking.” Nonetheless, he refused to use

  

 , ‒ his influence and his prerogatives to ensure enactment of the reform by the proper means, since he disliked the very idea of amending the constitution and objected to the process of amendment established in . By his unwillingness to bring pressure on the senators in  on behalf of the original Sinimbu bill and his refusal in February  to grant that cabinet a dissolution, the emperor did not just ensure the defeat of an unpopular measure. He made clear that, as long as he ruled, the regime would not undertake and probably was not capable of undertaking any radical reform of the country’s political institutions and procedures through constitutional amendments. With the enactment of the Saraiva bill in January  the cycle of reforms initiated by the Law of Free Birth in September  came to a close. All these measures save the last had met with Pedro II’s approval and very much mirrored his expectations and values. They were ameliorative, seeking to remedy abuses and to ensure rational and effective administration. They were also cautious, seeking not to disturb the existing structures of power or to destroy the means of control from above. Pedro II’s resistance to electoral reform and above all to amending the constitution revealed the limits of his system of rule. The  constitution symbolized for Pedro II everything that possessed true value. It represented the established and the familiar. He clung to the reassurance that its unchanging provisions gave him. As he wrote to the countess of Barral at the very end of , “I am always afraid of change.”89 His intransigence made impossible any radical alteration to the existing economic and social order. Viewing religion as the linchpin of society, he did not wish for the disestablishment of the Catholic Church. He was opposed to universal male suffrage, much less that of women. He feared the emergence of autonomous and competing centers of power and action within Brazil. In particular, he would not consent to any diminution of his control over the political system. He would not share power with any person or any entity. The republic might be the ideal form of government, but Brazil was not yet ready for it. Pedro II refused to adapt, refused to yield. By his conduct since  he was letting go of his ability to control the evolving affairs of Brazil.

  

 

Overtaken by Time, 1881–87

 On December , , the anniversary of his birth, o faustíssimo dia natálico, Pedro II wrote to the countess of Barral: “The customary celebrations, not the other ones that I enjoy. I have just come from the theater, which was very tedious. Telegrams from everyone, except from you. I am sad. Good night!”1 The alienation, pessimism, and world weariness evident in this passage did not stem solely from the arrival of his fifty-fifth birthday. These themes appeared constantly in Pedro II’s diary letters sent at this time to the countess of Barral. Time and again the letters emphasized his loneliness and his desire to escape into her company. The emperor’s assertions, such as “my heart remains aflame and will always be so for the one who arouses such feeling in me,” may be taken with a grain of salt.2 He was quite capable of conducting passionate correspondences simultaneously with two, three, or even four women to each of whom he protested his devotion, avowing that the recipient was indispensable for his happiness.3 For Pedro II the countess of Barral and the other correspondents were important less for their personal charms than as the embodiment of what he really wanted—a life in Europe.

O

That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, The happy highways where I went and cannot come again.

A. E. Housman had not yet written these lines, being still only a (Shropshire) lad, but the sentiment they express was that of the emperor who very much regarded himself as living in “this desert”—Brazil.4 He equated his lot with that of the

  

  , ‒ poet Ovid condemned to exile among the Goths on the Black Sea—Barbarus hic ego sum, qui non intellegor ulli [Here I am the barbarian who does not understand the meaning of anything at all].5 Pedro II’s life as ruler of Brazil signified for him banishment from Europe, “and I, were I to enjoy my total independence, where would I be? Guess.” “If I let myself fantasize freely about what I cannot obtain, certainly I would not be resigned.”6 This condition of internal exile—physically residing in one place but emotionally living in another—characterized Pedro II’s existence during the s. He did not neglect his duties as emperor, but he performed them solely as a duty, spurred on by his conscience.7 He cleaved to his long-established routines without regard to their suitability to changing times. Only by following those routines could he bear his task; change would have caused him to give up. Pedro II’s state of mind, as revealed in his letters to the countess of Barral, also reflected the reality that, following his return to Brazil late in , a number of factors turned against him and greatly lessened his viability as Brazil’s ruler. These adverse developments related to the state of his health, his intellectual reputation, his standing as monarch and head of government, and the nature of politics. His power to direct, his prestige as Brazil’s model citizen, and his legitimacy all came under challenge. An alteration in his physical condition contributed powerfully to the change in Pedro II’s world. From early manhood Pedro II had been notable for his remarkable stamina. His energy, capacity for concentrated work, and powers of recuperation had evoked admiring comment. After his return to Brazil in November , it was obvious that the emperor was starting to slow down. Part of the cause was simply the onset of middle age, but lack of exercise and very poor eating habits also took their toll. Years of consuming sugar had rotted his teeth, so that by the s he needed dentures.8 To maintain his routine he was forced to take regular exercise. While in residence at Petrópolis, he went for long walks in both the morning and the evening.9 In the middle of November , he told the countess of Barral: “The day after tomorrow there will begin the sea baths which I like because of the swimming, even though they make me sleepy and take up a good deal of time.”10 By the end of the s a deterioration in the emperor’s eyesight forced him to use a pince-nez for reading.11 The most striking manifestation of Pedro II’s physical decline related to his sleeping habits. It had long been his practice to sleep seven hours or less a night, and not surprisingly he tended to doze off at moments when his attention was not fully engaged. As early as  the empress had written to D. Isabel: “Your father, following his laudable custom, slept quite soundly during the performance.”12 The tendency to fall asleep became more noticeable as the years passed. Writing to the count of Gobineau in November , the emperor com-

  

  , ‒

Figure . Pedro II in the late s or early s

plained: “If only I could at least study as I used to do! But sleep pursues me and my need for rest is too great.”13 Following his return to Brazil in , Pedro II began to fall asleep in the middle of important meetings and during public engagements. The emperor was conscious of the critical comment that this habit attracted and, in a memorandum written at the start of , he sought to defend himself: “If I doze off, it is also because I get tired and I am no more than human, etc., and I have gone to lectures and other meetings after dispatching business until the early hours, until two o’clock or later in the morning. I don’t do this to display my endurance but because I always desire to encourage, through these lectures, the arts and sciences.”14 In fact the emperor’s habit of dozing off, his tiredness, and his corpulence were the symptoms of a malady which a young doctor, appointed in April  a court physician [médico da imperial câmara] identified—probably in the second half of —as diabetes.15 Pedro II was suffering from what is now termed type II (non-insulin-dependent) diabetes. This form of the disease tends to affect individuals with a genetic predisposition who are overweight and past the age of forty. In type II diabetes the pancreas is not destroyed (as happens in type I) and continues to generate insulin. However, the amount produced by the pancreas may be insufficient or, more commonly, the insulin receptors in the body cells,

  

  , ‒ ceasing to respond to the presence of insulin, no longer absorb the glucose circulating in the blood. The diuretic effect of high levels of sugar in the blood is frequent urination, and the urine smells sweet, as does the breath. The body’s metabolism is seriously unbalanced and, as a consequence, the sufferers from type II diabetes experience such symptoms as extreme fatigue, blurred vision, and tingling and numbness in the hands and feet. Cuts, sores, and skin infections take a long time to heal. In addition, the high levels of glucose interfere with the immune system and increase susceptibility to infections. Often, to counteract increasing fatigue, sufferers from type II diabetes try to boost their energy by increasing their consumption of sugars, which in turn intensifies their diabetic problems. In physiological terms the consequences over the long term of type II diabetes are growing weakness in the muscles, damage to the retina causing a degeneration in eyesight, and damage to the kidneys. Patients with type II diabetes are also likely to suffer from high blood pressure and other cardiovascular problems.16 The medical evidence available on Pedro II indicates that he had been suffering from type II diabetes for several years before his condition was diagnosed by Dr. Cláudio Velho da Mota Maia. The very long time, from March to October , which an infection in his leg required to heal suggests that Pedro II’s diabetic condition may have existed even then.17 The court doctors’ failure to diagnose Pedro II’s condition is not surprising. Even today a great many of those with type II diabetes do not realize that they are affected. Although in the nineteenth century diabetes as a malady was recognized and could be detected, mainly by testing for sugar in the patient’s urine, the causes for diabetes were not understood. No effective treatment existed, save that of controlling sugar intake through a rigorous diet. Such a regime was effective only in cases where the symptoms were mild and the diet followed precisely.18 Even today, most diabetics find it extremely hard to change long-established eating habits and to keep strictly to a prescribed diet. After he had diagnosed the emperor’s condition, Dr. Mota Maia had his patient’s urine sampled frequently, encouraged Pedro II to take long walks in the morning and afternoon, and also tried to control his patient’s eating habits.19 Mota Maia probably did reduce the emperor’s intake of fats and sugar quite substantially. Given Pedro II’s self-centered tenacity, it is doubtful if he kept strictly to the diet prescribed him, absolutely necessary for control of the disease. It is also impossible to determine whether the diet prescribed by Mota Maia was one which would have kept the emperor’s diabetic condition under effective control. As already noted, the long-term effects of type II diabetes are damage to the kidneys and the eyesight. The body becomes much more susceptible to infection. Given the lack of understanding of the disease in the s, the prognosis for Pedro II was therefore a slow but accelerating decline in his physical capaci-

  

  , ‒ ties, with a much shortened life expectancy.20 It is probable that Dr. Mota Maia’s treatment of the emperor’s condition was sufficiently effective to hold in reasonable check his patient’s diabetes. Pedro II’s activities in no way diminished. However, his health was not perfect. At the end of December , the emperor suffered an attack which is best described in the count d’Eu’s words to the countess of Barral: The emperor has been slightly ill—stomach pains which ended in a congestion of the liver with a high fever during the night of Friday to Saturday [December –]. That caused a sensation, because his physician [the viscount of] Ibituruna naturally forbade him to travel down to Rio for his despacho. Quinine, tincture of calomel, and castor oil gave him immediate relief, and today he is feeling as usual and immersed in his scholarly study. However, he did not attend Mass and is confined to his room. He looks, nonetheless, very well.21

D. Isabel shared her husband’s opinion, but her mother was far less nonchalant on the subject: “The emperor’s illness, which thank God yielded to the doctors’ care, put me into such a state that I could not write to anyone.”22 D. Teresa Cristina’s alarm probably stemmed from the fact that she had a very good understanding of the true state of her husband’s health. Late in  the emperor suffered a cut in his left leg, which became infected. As might be expected from his diabetic condition, the healing of this infection was very slow, and it gave Dr. Mota Maia considerable cause for concern before he finally succeeded in curing it.23 By  Pedro II was experiencing urinary problems due to the damage done by diabetes to his kidneys. “What attracts comment is an abnormal need on his part to urinate which forces him to withdraw frequently, even in the middle of public events,” the count d’Eu informed the duke of Nemours in October , “and it seems he has sugar in his urine. Nonetheless, he retains his exceptional energy and his taste for long meetings.”24 Consistent with his character, Pedro II did not allow problems affecting his health to alter his accustomed behavior. The emperor’s refusal to change his ways was evident in his unwillingness or inability to adjust to the changing intellectual climate. During his young manhood, in the years before he turned forty, Pedro II’s intellectual curiosity and his expertise in most fields of knowledge had won him the respect and the allegiance of educated Brazilians. The first half of the nineteenth century was in intellectual terms dominated by amateur polymaths, often well born and wealthy. Pedro II courted and was courted by the savants of Europe and North America, who had no hesitation in welcoming an emperor as a confrère. These relationships contained more than a touch of mutual flattery and self-promo-

  

  , ‒ tion, but they served to confirm and enhance the emperor’s image as a ruler more by achievement than by descent, and as the epitome of what Brazil might be. This image had formed the basis for the emperor’s reputation as the model citizen. An explosion in scientific invention and discovery, the emergence of distinct disciplines, and the rise of the professional specialist meant that, by the last decades of the nineteenth century, only exceptional intellects could still flourish as polymaths. Pedro II’s mind was in no way remarkable. To maintain his reputation, he needed to restrict his interests to a particular field of knowledge and to undertake original research in it. The emperor either was not aware of the necessity to change or refused to abandon his established ways. By striving to keep up with every advance in every field of learning, he showed himself to be no more than an amateur dabbler, with no capacity for profound or systematic knowledge. Elizabeth Agassiz, the widow of the scientist Louis Agassiz and founder of Radcliffe College, commented on this weakness when the emperor visited her at Boston in 6: His intellect is of the encyclopedic kind, though it is true that his steady purpose (that of applying all he can learn to the welfare and enlightenment of the people) gives coherence and unity to what otherwise would seem a rather fragmentary accumulation of disconnected facts. His capacity for receiving and retaining that kind of knowledge is wonderful; how far he digests it, I do not know.25

By the early s Pedro II still earned praise as the only savant among the sovereigns, but the homage no longer carried the weight that it once had done. Not only did he fail to produce any work of original thought or research, but his frenetic pursuit of knowledge for its own sake caused him to lose control of what he did know. The U.S. consul-general was told that “his library, into which visitors are not usually admitted, is in a state of great disorder—books, pictures, and other objects being scattered over the floor.” The baron von Hübner, a retired Austrian diplomat whom the emperor showed over São Cristóvão in July , had visual proof of this disarray: “Almost all the rooms are full of books the emperor brought from his journeys to Europe. Some are in shelves and others on the floor; they are the symbol of what goes on in his head. It is literally turned upside down.”26 Some years later the count d’Eu commented: You cannot conceive just what this monstrous accumulation and, above all, this total disorder is, dating back many years, in which the most important documents (items of historical importance) and the most personal papers (such as the correspondence of Cândido Borges [Monteiro], Nioac, etc. etc.), all lie open to the curiosity or to the dishonesty of the most recent visitor, all

  

  , ‒ thrown down, strewn about in every corner, mixed up with every kind of printed materials of no interest at all.27

No longer was Pedro II identified with the most modern ideas and the most advanced learning. His assumption of familiarity with most fields of knowledge appeared pretentious and unconvincing. The emperor attempted to defend himself against what he considered to be ill-considered attacks, but his responses make clear that he did not grasp the point of the objections to his claims to learning. At the start of , probably stung into writing by some particularly trenchant newspaper article, Pedro II drew up a long and repetitive memorandum in defense of his own actions. It is a revealing document. In it he protested: The story that I claim to be a savant has as much foundation as does the accusation that I aspire to personal power. Until my majority I had few years to learn and afterward fulfilling my duties did not leave me much time to study. I do no more than read as much as I can, and in consequence I have reason to know how much I need to learn in order to be a savant.”28

About this time he explained to the countess of Barral in reference to his critics: In effect they want me perforce to claim to be what I am not. I have written to you already about that aspect of my learning. I can’t talk to them and therefore they impute to me vanity which truly I don’t possess. There even exist some who say that I am foolish.29

The emperor might have protested less had he listened to himself. By the start of the s he had acquired the habit of responding when offered information on any subject: “Já sei, já sei” [I know that already, I know that already].30 A poem satirizing this practice which appeared in a radical newspaper catches the popular attitude toward the emperor and his claims to learning: Já Sei—Já Sei! Sabe tudo O sábio por excelência! Sabe mais do que a ciência E muito mais do que a lei! Do passado e do presente Fez um estudo profundo; Sabe o futuro do mundo . . . Já Sei—Já Sei! Matemática, direito, Escultura, geografia, Mistérios da astronomia,

  

  , ‒ Tudo sabe o nosso rei! Conhece o desconhecido! Sabe tudo, e tudo ensina! É forte na medicina . . . Já Sei—Já Sei! O Padre Eterno, invejoso De um tal ciência infusa, Lhe disse, a juízo de escusa “ —D. Pedro, me sucedei! Eu vos entrego o universo.” Mas o sábio, firme, têso, Respondeu-lhe com desprêzo: Já Sei—Já Sei! I know that already—I know that already! He knows everything The exemplary savant! He knows more than science does And much more than the law! Of the past and the present He has made a profound study; He knows the future of the world . . . I know that already—I know that already! Mathematics, law, Sculpture, geography, The mysteries of astronomy, Our king knows everything! He comprehends the incomprehensible! He knows everything, and teaches everything! He is strong in medicine . . . I know that already—I know that already! The Eternal Father, envious Of such an intensive learning, Said to him, by way of excuse, “ —D. Pedro, be my successor! I am handing over the universe to you.” But the savant, firm-minded, upright, Replied to him with disdain: I know that already—I know that already!31

  

  , ‒ What gave visual confirmation in the s to the irreverence felt for the emperor’s intellectual pretensions was his style of clothing. At a time when the man about town was donning the Homburg hats and the checked suits made fashionable by the future King Edward VII, or even wearing Panama hats and alpaca coats, Pedro II remained true to the black tail coat, black tie, and stovepipe hat that he had worn since his youth.32 He looked out of date, and this impression was confirmed by the rundown condition of the vehicles in which he was driven. The coaches purchased in the s and s from Europe were still the ones he used. The impression which Pedro II made on foreigners at this time can be gauged from the remarks of the former U.S. consul at Rio de Janeiro who first met the emperor late in 2: Dom Pedro II, Emperor of Brazil . . . has an intellectual head, eyes a grayish blue . . . , beard full and gray, hair well trimmed, also gray, complexion florid, and expression sober. He is erect, and has a manly bearing. . . . During this long period [of his rule] there have been some provincial rebellions and some local turmoil, but the Emperor has always shown a tact, energy, and humanity that helped much to restore order, quiet, and good feeling. Thus, while he has held the scepter his country has continued to prosper. Its vast area has been held intact, and it has become an important empire. As I have looked at his gray head, when he has been driving in his carriage through the streets of Rio, I have said to myself, “There certainly is an august and venerable character.” . . . As all the world knows, the Emperor is not only a scholar, but a man of great activity. He is unwearied in his visits to observe and encourage industrial and educational enterprise. Day after day one hears of his spending two or three hours at a time at some of the public institutions or establishments—it may be a department of the Government, or the National Library or Museum, or a public-school examination, or the Military Academy, or the Government machine-shops, or the Arsenal. . . . If Peter II, Emperor of Brazil, lacks some of those great qualities of statesmanship which distinguished Peter the Great of Russia, he must be admitted anyhow to possess much tact as a ruler. Probably he does not exercise a hundredth part of the one-man power that is used by the President of the United States.33

The impression left is of a worthy but old-fashioned and not very forceful individual who has ceased to play a central role in his country’s affairs. Several factors did indeed contribute toward making Pedro II less and less effective as head of state as the s progressed. The first of these was the status of monar-

  

  , ‒ chy itself. From the s onward the Empire’s stability and prosperity when compared to the turmoil and poverty of the Spanish American republics gave ample proof of the superiority of monarchical government. However, the s had seen the founding and triumph of a republic in France, the emergence of the United States as a great power, and republican Argentina’s rapid economic and social development. The monarchy in Brazil seemed to be the odd man out in the Western Hemisphere and also, given the continuing existence of slavery and the country’s financial problems, to offer no guarantee of progress and modernity. Monarchism ceased to command belief, and it became fashionable among young Brazilians to profess republican views, which did not prevent most of its adepts from coexisting very happily with the monarchy and accepting favors and positions from it. Such a one was Benjamin Franklin Ramiz Galvão, who had risen in the world by his own talents. Having trained as a doctor, he became director of the Biblioteca Nacional [National Library]. In September , through the emperor’s selection, he was named tutor of the sons of D. Isabel and the count d’Eu, and in  even accepted the title of baron of Ramiz Galvão.34 Much more serious as a threat to the regime was the popular press, which had now begun to proliferate, particularly in the national capital. Dependent upon street sales, these newspapers and periodicals showed no reverence for the emperor or monarchy as such, and they were quick to discover and exploit every scandal and every failing associated with the regime. While promotion of a republic was not a major theme of this press, it did subject the regime to constant disparagement and harassment. Thus the poem “Já Sei—Já Sei” concluded with the following lines: É mesmo um sábio . . . E ignora O rumo de barra a fora . . . Já Sei—Já Sei! He surely is a savant . . . and he is ignorant about The path that leads to exile . . . I know that already—I know that already!35

This poem characterized Pedro II as the “king” (tudo sabe nosso rei). Use of the term was not restricted to outsiders. João Ferreira de Moura employed it when describing the despacho of February , , which had sealed the fate of the Sinimbu cabinet. This usage signaled a sharp change in attitude toward the institution of monarchy. Until the political crisis of July , when Pedro II had dismissed the Liberals from office, he was generally referred to by the word “emperor” [o imperador], which carried with it a suggestion of popular sanction

  

  , ‒ underlying his rule. As emperor he was “perpetual defender” of Brazil, the embodiment of the national spirit, a role that Pedro II had fulfilled so successfully in . In contrast, the word “rei” harked back to the colonial period when El Rei Nosso Senhor [“the King our Lord”] ruled Brazil despotically from Lisbon by divine right alone. This identification of Pedro II with the arbitrary and alien system of the colonial period had been started by the first advocates of republicanism.36 By the s usage of the phrase was commonplace. The very terms of public discourse disparaged the monarchy. If the monarchy were to survive, it required a strong and imaginative defense, and that defense the emperor totally failed to provide. Intellectually, he was drawn to the republic as the ideal form of government. At the Vintém (Dime) riots of January , he wrote to the countess of Barral: The situation of a monarch is difficult in this period of transition. Very few nations are prepared for the system of government which is in train, and I certainly would be better and happier as president of a republic than as constitutional emperor. I am not fooling myself; but I will not fail to carry out, as I have until now, my duties as constitutional monarch.37

Pedro II clearly understood the direction in which Brazil was headed, but he persisted in his established ways. Forty years of rule made him take for granted obedience, respect, and devotion from others. Anything he said or wrote was received with gratitude and interest, not subjected to critical analysis or dismissed out of hand. Any course of action he recommended merited, if not acceptance, favorable consideration. He never had to concern himself about money, living his entire life in total disregard of financial considerations. All those in contact with him adapted their conduct and views to his convenience. Pedro II’s position made him, in sum, incredibly self-centered. His entire world revolved around himself. This trait was all the more powerful and its effects the more insidious because it was not deliberately chosen. He was comfortable with his existing role and he did not like changing if doing so lessened his control or interfered with his own convenience. So he took no notice when the countess of Barral told him in April 0: “It appears to me that we will soon have another republic in South America. —I know that Y. M. does not mind about yourself, but it is your duty to take care of your dynasty and to ensure that the person of the sovereign is respected.”38 In his classic study of the British constitution Walter Bagehot distinguished between two aspects of the government: “the efficient parts—those by which it, in fact, works and rules” and “the dignified parts of the government,” “which excite and preserve the reverence of the population” and “which bring it force—

  

  , ‒ which attract its motive power.”39 Pedro II, deliberately or not, had let atrophy the “dignified parts” of the Brazilian monarchy. As he himself admitted, “I recognize that I am very wanting in respect to the gifts of imagination, which I can, however, well appreciate in others.”40 As his reign progressed Pedro II steadily dismantled the ceremonial aspects of the monarchy. On his return from Europe in , he had made voluntary the practice of the beija-mão, the ceremony in which those meeting the emperor bent to kiss his hand. On his return to Brazil in , he abolished the guarda do archeiros, the palace guard clad in multicolored uniforms and armed with halberds.41 Pedro II rarely appeared in public clothed in pomp and circumstance. He wore his robes of state but twice a year, for the opening and closing of the legislative session. Pedro II still held full courts [dias de grande gala] on major festivals such as his birthday, but they no longer served any significant function nor did they attract much attendance. The monarchy did not act as a center of social life, the imperial couple offering no balls, dinner parties, or soirées. The most that Pedro II would do was to attend, during the winter months, the balls held at the Cassino Fluminense, the principal social center in Rio, where he did more talking than dancing. “I like the Cassino because I can converse there with people who otherwise would take up a great deal of time if they visited me [at twiceweekly audiences] simply with that purpose.”42 When Pedro II traveled by coach in the streets of Rio de Janeiro, he spent his time reading and “returns salutations with a slight nod.” Only the empress took the time and trouble to show appreciation for greetings from onlookers.43 When visiting São Cristóvão in July , Baron von Hübner, the traveling Austrian diplomat, was struck by the virtual absence of a court. “The solitude of the palace struck me. Not a sign of the splendor to be met in the palaces of princes. A servant in the antechamber, but no chamberlain.” After visiting Argentina, von Hübner paid a second visit to Pedro II six weeks later. I found the palace of São Cristóvão the same as ever. It is the bewitched castle of the fairy tales. A sentinel at the door and beside him not a living soul. I wandered alone through the corridors which surround the patio. I met nobody but I heard the tinkle of glasses in a neighboring room where the emperor was dining alone with the empress without their suite composed of a lady-in-waiting and a chamberlain.44

The Côrte e Casa [the court and household] had become in both social and physical terms a shadow of what they once were. During the s the inner group of courtiers around the emperor, men such as the viscount of Sapucaí and Cândido Borges Monteiro, also held key positions in official life, serving as ministers, sen-

  

  , ‒

Figure . João Lustosa da Cunha Paranaguá, marquis of Paranaguá, Liberal party leader, senator, president of the Council of Ministers, and member of Pedro II’s court circle

ators, and councilors of state. By the early s these men were either dead or inactive, with no one of the same caliber replacing them. The emperor made little or no effort to attract to the court the rising generation of politicians and intellectuals. In fact, holding a position at court and so belonging to the emperor’s inner circle had become a disadvantage for any leading politician, as it did for João Lustosa da Cunha Paranaguá, second marquis of Paranaguá, who served as president of the Council of Ministers from  to . A court chamberlain, Paranaguá was well liked by the emperor and frequently took a weekly turn of duty at court. Paranaguá’s daughter Maria Amanda—“Amandinha,” as she was always known—married a rising young politician, Franklin Américo de Meneses Dória, later baron of Loreto, and was a close friend from childhood of D. Isabel. In May  another of Paranaguá’s daughters married (in the presence of the imperial family) Dominique de Barral, the countess’s son who had been raised in the company of D. Isabel and D. Leopoldina.45 These close links to the emperor and his heir bred distrust of Paranaguá’s independence and ability to

  

  , ‒ stand up to Pedro II. The emperor commented in October  that “the [new] minister of war is Paranaguá, whom I much esteem even though he is attacked by certain people for having always been constant toward me and doing me justice.”46 The eclipse of the court as a social and political center was accelerated by its physical decline. Pedro II invested little money in the upkeep of the palaces, their furnishings, the staff, and the other physical necessities of the court. His refusal was in part due to a dislike of pomp and ceremony, but in part it was caused by a simple lack of funds. His annual civil list, fixed at  contos in , was never subsequently increased, even though the cost of living more than doubled. Pedro II was resolute in his refusal to request an increase, which would certainly have been granted.47 His accumulated indebtedness remained a heavy burden. In June  he told the countess of Barral that he was still paying off the loan he had taken to cover the expenses of his travels in  and .48 By the very end of the s, the liabilities incurred by the imperial household exceeded a whole year’s income from the civil list, and to meet them a loan of  contos had to be secured from the Banco do Brasil.49 The ramshackle nature and antiquated etiquette of the Brazilian Côrte e Casa caused foreign diplomats to view it with a kind of amused disdain.50 An institution so neglected and down at heel could not command loyalty without or good service within. The emperor’s indifference to his surroundings simply invited a scandal. “All the magnificent jewels which the empress and the princess were wearing at the court ceremonies on the th have been stolen,” the count d’Eu told the countess of Barral in March . Entrusted to the personal servant [Francisco de Paula] Lobo to be placed in the emperor’s desk, perhaps as agreed with Pedro Paiva [senior personal servant to Pedro II] who has the keys to the desk, he did not put them there! but instead in a closet in the emperor’s room. The police now suspect Lobo and think that he faked the breaking open of the closet. When we received this horrible news on Saturday evening the empress and D. Josefina [her ladyin-waiting] at once suspected Marcos Paiva, the brother of Pedro, and that idea is shared by our nephews [Pedro Augusto and Augusto], the baroness of Nogueira da Gama [wife of the mordomo], and the chief of police himself. But the emperor doesn’t wish to hear it discussed and you will understand how greatly the police’s activity is thwarted on the one hand by a fear of displeasing the emperor by accusing Paiva and on the other by the terror which the Paivas and Lobo inspire in all the personnel of the palace: nobody dares say anything! Finally the value of stolen jewels of the empress and the princess is some  contos [$,]!51

  

  , ‒ The crisis did not last long. “The joias [jewels] have been recovered,” the count d’Eu informed the countess of Barral on March . “The chief of police came in person to Petrópolis and gave them to us.”52 An anonymous denunciation had led the police to the grounds of Marcos Paiva’s house, where some old butter and cookie boxes containing the jewels were unearthed. The three palace servants implicated in the theft were thereupon set at liberty by the chief of police, even though the order for their arrest had not been annulled by the prosecuting judge. This inexplicable act caused as much sensation as did the crime itself. The mordomo published a statement denying that there had been any interference in the course of justice. The most the emperor would do was to dismiss Francisco de Paula Lobo, his criado particular, and to ban all three suspects from entering the palace.53 As the countess of Barral wrote to the emperor, denouncing the failure to prosecute the suspects, “I will say as did some newspaper I can’t recall: in the same dirt from which the jewels were recovered justice was buried.” “I repeat that I was disgusted by all this, since the thieves showed no flair, and what is the most remarkable is that this has not occurred many times before due to the carelessness which reigns in every respect in the palace of Y. M.”54 The countess of Barral’s disgust was multiplied a thousandfold when she learned that the popular press had rushed in to exploit the scandal, stressing its resemblance to the “Affair of the Diamond Necklace” which on the eve of the French Revolution had besmirched (unjustly) the reputation of Queen Marie Antoinette. Two novels, The Jewels of the Crown and The Bridge of Catete, were serialized by competing Rio newspapers. These romans à clef put the worst possible interpretation on the motives and actions of everyone involved even marginally in the scandal.55 The countess of Barral protested strongly against being smeared in these novels. “Although I don’t want to upset myself with such things, I must confess to you that I feel a certain curiosity in learning about the role they make me play in a disgusting serial story, The Bridge of Catete, and what will come after this phrase: ‘tomorrow is the countess’s day!’ When did I ever dance with Y. M. in my life?” She demanded strong action. “As to the scandalous serial stories, it should result in a whipping, and if some day libelers are not severely punished, I don’t know what the end will be for Brazilian royalty and society.”56 The countess’s complaints failed to change Pedro II’s views on the subject of the liberty of the press. Toward the end of his life he noted: “I always fought for the total freedom of the press. I have said a thousand times, its true remedy lies in itself.”57 The affair of the stolen jewels only tangentially involved D. Isabel and the count d’Eu, and their reputation was little affected by the scandal. However, the heir to the throne and her husband continued to offer to Brazilians no alternative

  

  , ‒ center of loyalty or competing vision of the monarchy. In May , seeking medical treatment for their elder son’s arm, they had left Rio for Europe, and there they remained for three and a half years until November . During the absence their contacts with and interest in Brazil were minimal. The count d’Eu even observed in November , when discussing the division of his father’s estate to be made after the latter’s death, “The more I reflect the more I doubt that my sons and I will get as far as settling down permanently in Brazil, due as much to the political situation which is in essence precarious, difficult, and painful . . . as to the climate (detrimental to delicate healths).”58 During their stay the family lived mostly in Paris, and there D. Isabel in August  gave birth to her third son, D. Antônio, the last of her three children.59 The need to show the emperor his new grandson, the cost of life in Europe, and the lack of any further improvement in their eldest son’s condition induced the couple to return to Brazil. D. Isabel and the count d’Eu resumed their previous way of life, moving between Rio de Janeiro and Petrópolis. Lavishing attention on the education of their offspring, they played virtually no role in official life, “to which we are at this moment, thank God, complete strangers,” the count d’Eu characteristically informed the countess of Barral at the start of .60 As a result of the evident discontent among the diplomatic corps about the absolute absence of a social life at court, “the count d’Eu and the Princess Imperial started this year [] to give soirées every two weeks during the winter season.” Baron Hübner, who made this comment, attended one such reception early in August . “There were not many people present,” he noted, nor was the entertainment notable.61 The Paço Isabel, located in the Rio suburb of Laranjeiras, largely catered to its owners’ small circle of existing personal friends and never established itself as a social center of any importance. Symptomatic of the couple’s isolation was the inability of the press, when D. Isabel and the count d’Eu celebrated their silver wedding anniversary on October , , to say much in praise of the couple’s accomplishments.62 Even if D. Isabel and her husband had not sought to withdraw from public life, it is doubtful whether the emperor would have allowed them any significant role. “I find the count d’Eu particularly sympathetic,” the baron von Hübner wrote in his diary on August , . “They tell me that the emperor does not like him and has frequently tried to discredit him, perhaps out of jealousy for the merit which the prince, then very young, acquired by reanimating and bringing to a successful close the war against Paraguay.”63 Others who knew Pedro II and the count d’Eu in the s thought the same. “The baron of Estrela told me,” Tobias Monteiro, the historian, noted, “that it sufficed to see the way in which the emperor greeted the C. d’Eu to understand that he had no affection for him.”64

  

  , ‒ This coolness between the emperor and his heirs meant that in the s the regime essentially depended upon Pedro II’s strength of character and his skills at governing. Baron von Hübner told the emperor as much. “Your Majesty is and is called constitutional emperor and you confine yourself conscientiously within the limits of the Constitution. However, Your Majesty reigns and governs.” No, no, the emperor said: “Your Excellency is mistaken. I let the machinery function. It is well constructed and I have confidence in it. Only when the wheels start to stick and threaten to stop do I apply a little grease.”65

If such was the emperor’s benign view of his role in the governing of Brazil, the attitude of the leading politicians (those who were or had been cabinet ministers) toward the emperor was becoming much more negative, motivated by resentment, disrespect, and frustration. These three sentiments were really different facets or embodiments of the same fundamental discontent. The leading politicians’ resentment against Pedro II stemmed from their sense of powerlessness. They were men of established social position who held academic or professional degrees and were familiar with the world outside of Brazil. They had proven themselves in a long apprenticeship in administration and politics. They functioned within a polity which assured freedom of the press and fostered an active party system. By the constitution, laws had to be enacted by the national legislature and the executive run by ministers who were responsible to the legislature. The appearance of open politics and of representative government seemed to exist. Notwithstanding all these appearances, the leading politicians felt themselves to be under a system of suffocatingly close tutelage. Their acts were under unrelenting supervision and their ideas and suggestions under continuous review and systematic correction. They were granted no autonomy and given no margin for error. They could be called to account for their handling of the most trivial business under their charge. Most of what they wrote was subject to inspection and to emendation, often of the most tedious and banal sort. At best their condition resembled that of adolescents, no longer physically children but still treated by their father as such, and at worst that of puppets who moved solely in response to the hands pulling the strings. The leading politicians had no means of setting the political agenda or blocking policies they did not like. The amnesty which settled the Religious Question in  was the exception that proved the rule. The holder of the regulating power could, in the last resort, do what he pleased. What made the leading politicians’ resentment the more fierce and intense was that the supervision, correction, accounting, and inspection were all

  

  , ‒ imposed with a gentleness, a good humor, and a skill which gave no formal cause for complaint or opportunity for counterattack. “The emperor’s questions, even though asked in a kind of jovial and innocent manner, carried a message for the baron,” so recorded the baron of Cotegipe when in December  Pedro II wanted information from him about certain financial transactions between the baron’s financial agent in Bahia and the provincial government.66 In his explanation Cotegipe used, as he admitted in his note on the topic, “phrases and expressions which one of his colleagues judged to have exceeded the suitable.” In their dealings with the emperor the leading politicians were at a profound disadvantage, as though they had one arm tied behind their back. As Walter Bagehot’s English Constitution observed, “It would be childish to suppose that a conference between a minister and his sovereign can ever be a conference of pure argument.”67 What compounded the ministers’ sense of subordination when transacting business with the emperor was Pedro II’s phenomenal memory, his familiarity with every aspect of affairs, and his adeptness at management. It remained very difficult to catch him at a disadvantage or to maneuver him into a corner. The leading politicians had every reason to feel powerless, and that powerlessness bred resentment. This resentment was fed by two other factors, neither being of much credit to the leading politicians but all the more potent for that reason. In a political system that essentially depended upon the distribution of patronage, one in which political success depended upon the ability to provide relatives and clients with posts, contracts, and money, no politician, however high-minded, could avoid involvement in transactions of questionable merit and morality. The one man who could and did question the merit and morality of innumerable transactions and who could in most cases block them was Pedro II. The baron of Cotegipe displayed outraged virtue in December  when the emperor questioned his conduct as minister of finance in approving, without the customary guarantees, the release by the treasury of his native Bahia of a large sum to the viscount of Pereira Marinho. “The commercial firm of Marinhos and Co. is the agent of the baron of Cotegipe; it receives the crops of his plantations and oversees them,” Cotegipe himself stated. “There therefore exists a relationship of confidence and friendship between Marinhos and the B. of Cot[egip]e.”68 The emperor was able to act as the conscience of the political system precisely because he himself was not involved in its grubbier aspects. He held power for life and his annual income was assured. It was easy for him to be righteous and to intervene when questionable transactions were afoot. In the statement of self-defense written at the start of , Pedro II sought to defend himself against this charge:

  

  , ‒ If I point out, from time to time, what I have learned in respect to individuals proposed for appointments etc., it is because I ought to inform the ministers of what I know, without thereby denying that men can reform themselves. I am even inclined to forgive and forget actions which don’t demonstrate immorality in character.69

The problem with this justification was that the leading politicians’ long familiarity with Pedro II’s own conduct gave them cause to question his superior virtue. He too had his own agenda to pursue, as the surviving letters from his lady friends show. On March , , the countess of Villeneuve, writing in French and using the intimate “tu,” told Pedro II: “I left with a very good impression of Brussels and with the desire to return there. So, dear friend, I count on your affection so that my husband may be confirmed there as soon as may be. You allow me to speak to you thus, don’t you darling?”70 In the same year the count of Villeneuve was named Brazilian envoy to Belgium. In February  Eponina Otaviano, using the intimate “te,” wrote to “My little love”: “Don’t forget my son Eduardo, what I asked you for; a good consulate or a good post here or abroad; don’t be bad and do me this favor for which I will be forever grateful.”71 Eduardo eventually received a consulate, that at Copenhagen. Another type of favoritism practiced by the emperor was related to Tobias Monteiro by a professor of the Rio medical school: [Lucas Antônio de Oliveira] Cata Preta told me that, when he was competing for a post [in the Rio medical school], [Cândido] Borges [Monteiro] attended one of his presentations and voted for another candidate. Having an appointment to see the emperor, he [Cata Preta] intended to tell him this, because the result had been a tied vote. But Luís Carlos da Fonseca [a court physician], his mother’s cousin, to whom he spoke beforehand, recommended that he should on no account say anything unfavorable about Borges, because if he did so he would strongly displease the emperor.72

Cândido Borges Monteiro, viscount of Itaúna, was the court physician who had accompanied the emperor to Europe in . He was a member of Pedro II’s inner circle from the late s until his death in . Itaúna’s proximity to the emperor made others, as this story attests, unwilling to dispute his conduct for fear of offending Pedro II. The fear of alienating the emperor and thus losing access to the rewards of power was the second of the less avowable causes for resentment among the leading politicians. As Joaquim Nabuco succinctly phrased the point, “No chief wished to be incompatible.”73 Only the very strong minded and the very astute were willing to act as though their careers did not depend on the emperor. Notable was José Antônio Saraiva, who, when president of council in –,

  

  , ‒ had secured passage of the electoral reform law and had presided over the first elections held under the new law. Saraiva was virtually unique in his ability to rebuff the emperor in a manner that secured Pedro II’s respect. Much more typical was the baron of Cotegipe. His letter of resignation to the duke of Caxias in December  declared his intention of “dedicating my remaining days to home life and to observing uninvolved and from afar the torments of the political sea, on which I hope to God I will not have to navigate again, not even as a passenger.”74 Such protestations were self-deluding. In September  the baron of Cotegipe showed not the least qualm or hesitation in forming a cabinet and becoming president of the council. The attractions of power outweighed the humiliation of holding it upon the terms dictated by the emperor. Submitting to those terms bred resentment. If resentment motivated the leading politicians’ discontent with Pedro II, so too did disrespect. The generation of politicians who had come to power in the s, following upon the abdication of Pedro I, had learned from bitter experience the difficulties and dangers of government. By  they had lost all faith in their ability to rule the country on their own. They accepted Pedro II as an authority figure whose presence was indispensable for the country’s survival. They acknowledged his superior talents and his skills. They perceived him as the key to the successful working of the system, someone whose reputation and authority protected him from all discussion. After the viscount of Rio Branco had been summarily dismissed in  from his diplomatic mission in the Rio de la Plata, a senior member of the Conservative party wrote to him: “The emperor ought always to stand outside our disputes, even when it seems to us that he ought not to have sacrificed someone who, confiding in him [the emperor], sacrificed himself.”75 Of this first generation of politicians, virtually none continued active into the s. The rising generation of politicians had reached adulthood subsequent to Pedro II’s premature majority in . These men had no personal knowledge of the dramas and disappointments of the regency era of the s. For them Brazil was naturally a nation-state, and they saw no reason to fear its dismemberment. The problems facing the nation could be largely solved, they believed, by the pursuit of “progress,” adoption of the latest achievements of the civilized world. The latest trends in philosophical thought, particularly the ideas of Herbert Spencer and Auguste Comte, made the politicians confident of their right to rule over the uneducated and backward mass of the population and to run the state to their own advantage. Typical of this new generation was Lafaiete Rodrigues Pereira, born in  in the province of Minas Gerais. Lafaiete’s career had taken the usual course, first law school, then a provincial deputy and president of Ceará and Maranhão provinces, until  when he had signed the

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  , ‒ Republican Manifesto. His new creed did not prevent him from becoming in  the minister of justice in the Sinimbu cabinet. Lafaiete was an outspoken advocate of an electoral reform that denied the franchise to most of the existing “voters.”76 The attitude of this new generation of politicians toward the emperor differed sharply from that of their seniors. Instead of referring to him as Alguém [Someone] or O Homem [The Man] (both terms being capitalized), they dubbed him “o homem de São Cristóvão” [the man of São Cristóvão] (without capitalization), a person specific in time and space and so in no way universal and omnipresent.77 Whereas the older politicians had always been willing to place the emperor and his actions in the best light possible, the new generation tended not to give him the benefit of the doubt. For them Pedro II was neither the indispensable man nor the model citizen. They saw him as an aging eccentric with antiquated ideas and interfering ways who fell asleep at odd moments and who frittered away his time on inessentials. Some politicians did not hesitate to express their opinions in public. In his speeches to the Chamber of Deputies, Antônio Ferreira Viana, a master of devastating one-liners, coined such phrases as “forty years of lies and betrayals,” “the conspirator prince,” “the new caricature of Caesar,” and “the Empire is the deficit.”78 These phrases were quickly picked up by the popular press and became part of the political discourse. No longer exempt from public criticism, during the s Pedro II as ruler of Brazil was subject to constant criticism and disparagement in the articles and caricatures of the popular press.79 As early as September , the count d’Eu remarked, upon Pedro II’s return from abroad, that “as was to be expected, insulting publications were not lacking; among others the inevitable Ganganelli and two pamphlets published yesterday: Imperial Odyssey and The Royal Clown!!”80 Among the ordinary people a common nickname for the emperor was “Pedro Banana.” Popular opinion “considered him timid, soft, wanting to settle matters quietly. In place of his tolerance the people seemed to prefer the strong hand of a master.”81 In his long statement of self-defense written at the start of , the emperor did try to respond to some of the specific criticisms against his established way of governing. I can’t breed statesmen. Since the post of the president of the Council of Ministers was created, . . . , it is the prime minister who has chosen the other ministers, especially since the unfounded accusation about the personal power took form. . . . If I attend lectures and competitions for academic posts it is above all to become acquainted with the capacities of individuals, having in this way

  

  , ‒ identified by myself many intelligent people who have become prominent since then. . . . If I go to competitions for academic posts and other literary competitions it is so that I can give my opinion, which is often not accepted, on the presentations as well as to become acquainted with the capacities of individuals.82

The rambling, repetitive, and excessively specific nature of the emperor’s rebuttal tends to confirm rather than to disprove the charges against him. Pedro II did comprehend to a certain extent the awkward situation in which changing times had placed him. “My position puts me on the very sharp horns of a dilemma,” he told the countess of Barral in April , “either to appear weak and inconsistent when I ought only to assist the triumph of national opinion (in fact difficult to determine) or to be viewed as obstinate and violent when I attempt nothing more than to maintain the principles which I judge to be indispensable for the happiness of our country.”83 A few days earlier he had made the same point in a more specific form: I returned a short while ago from the inauguration of the Normal School for the creation of which I have worked so much. It is difficult to credit how slowly everything advances in our [country] and yet they accuse me of personal government. It is true that perhaps in a little while they will accuse me of not intervening sufficiently in the government. God give me the judgment always to decide everything with equanimity!84

He was damned if he did and damned if he did not. Frustration no less than resentment and disrespect motivated the politicians’ discontent with the emperor. In the s Brazil’s economy was growing at a significant rate and its society was visibly diversifying. Women began to organize and to claim their rights. The first female to graduate from medical school did so in .85 A whole range of interest groups took form and started systematic lobbying to advance their concerns. As a consequence the business of government became ever heavier and more complex. New techniques of management and of decision-making in respect both to central-provincial relations and to national administration were urgently needed. However, the emperor stubbornly clung to his established ways of governing. All decisions of importance and many of minor significance still had to be personally presented to him by the cabinet ministers and decided in their presence. The despacho system was as exhausting as it was inefficient. In his statement of self-defense written early in  the emperor sought to defend his customary way of governing: I would like those who don’t know me to see the way in which I employ my time. I never sleep during the day in spite of being tired at times in recent

  

  , ‒ years, which are mounting for me. I work very well at night, but less so now, unless it is obligatory. I have not wanted this but have been unable to avoid it, so as not to waste the ministers’ time, who prefer to be with me only one day a week, although for a much longer period than formerly, when there were two despachos a week, and when the prime minister did not make it necessary to prolong my conversations with him.86

From the emperor’s letters to the countess of Barral from August  to December  the length of the despachos held on Saturday nights at 7: .. can be reconstructed. From August  to November  no despacho ended prior to : .., with the longest running until : .. During January , the shortest despacho came to a close at : .. José Antônio Saraiva, who became president of the council in March , seems to have been more effective in handling of business or controlling the emperor. From April  to December , , three despachos ended as early as : .., although the remaining meetings ran past midnight with three ending as late as : ..87 The strain on the ministers of preparing business for and attending a weekly session lasting four or five hours was considerable. The reason for the leading politicians’ frustration with Pedro II was not restricted to his refusal to change the ways in which he worked. He was also unwilling to tackle the urgent problems faced by Brazil. Instead, as the count d’Eu remarked to the countess of Barral in December , the emperor devoted his time to subjects which interested him but bore no fruit: The discussions or palestras of the emperor at the City Palace about which you ask me for information consist in uniting around a large table a dozen former ministers (Bom Retiro, Paulino, João Alfredo, Correia, Leôncio, Dória) and some others such as Saboia, Pertence, and asking them questions about higher education such as:88 How should the Faculties of Theology be constituted? What should they teach? How should the University Council be constituted? What ought to be the rights and mission of the professors? How should the exams be organized? Each person expounds as best he can on these subjects, and the emperor never fails to give his view on the topic if the advice given does not suit him. But in the end the result of all this talk is a great deal of hot air with nothing concluded.

The countess of Barral wrote beside this passage: “As always!”89 The emperor was prepared to spend endless hours discussing the projects that he favored, but he refused to devote his attention to anything of which he

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  , ‒ disapproved. The military was one such area. During Pedro II’s first decades of rule, the high command of the Brazilian army and navy was composed of officers largely drawn from a limited number of well-connected families, such as the Lima e Silva clan, to which the duke of Caxias belonged. Service to the monarch was ingrained in these officers, who felt a personal loyalty to the emperor. Pedro II was thus able to take for granted discipline and obedience in the armed forces. Unlike his first cousin, Francis Joseph of Austria, who always appeared in uniform, Pedro II wore civilian clothes and, on public events which required otherwise, he usually appeared in naval uniform.90 The navy did possess a certain appeal to the emperor, involving as it did the sea and machinery in the form of the steam engine and gunnery. The army possessed no such attraction. The Paraguayan War radically changed the nature of the Brazilian officer corps. It was filled with men who had attained their rank, not because of their family or their connections, but because of their proven ability as soldiers. These officers were outsiders, and neither Pedro II nor the ministers in office after  did anything to court them or to meet their legitimate demands. During his visit to Rio in , the baron von Hübner discussed the subject with the count d’Eu, who had commanded the army in the final phase of the Paraguayan War: He deplores the abandonment in which the army lies. Twelve thousand men in all. What a contrast with the vastness of the Empire! What a lack of foresight if one takes into account Brazil’s foreign relations, surrounded by republics hostile to the sole monarchy on the American continent. . . . But the politicians of this country (as with those of any other) think only about their own interests. The count d’Eu told me with no trace of bitterness that the emperor will not listen to any talk about expanding the army, because of the [condition of the] finances.”91

It is no wonder that Pedro II’s refusal to adapt or to take action spread resentment and discontent among key elements in Brazilian society. Even those Brazilians who most appreciated what the emperor had done for the country must have at times secretly agreed with the sentiments expressed in an amendment to the Reply to the Speech from the Throne presented unsuccessfully in January  by two radical deputies from the younger generation: Sire, the chamber acknowledges the efforts by Your Majesty to promote the progress of Brazil. The institutions, however, which serve in the infancy of a people need to be modified so that they do not prevent its free evolution and allow it to take its place among the concert of nations in order to achieve a high degree of civilization. The chamber is certain that the country will ever find Your Majesty to be a

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  , ‒ sincere collaborator in its progress and that Your Majesty understands that the monarchical regime ought not to prevent the free exercise of popular sovereignty.92

The difficulties in the management of affairs that the emperor experienced during the s cannot all be ascribed to Pedro II’s conservatism and his loss of control. Politics became in this decade much more complex and more partisan than previously. While the economy of Brazil grew considerably, the government revenues did not expand at a commensurate rate. The size of government remained virtually static, with few new posts being created. In this same period, the number of men who held the qualifications formerly sufficient to secure a government post grew markedly. As a consequence the competition for patronage increased. Links to patrons had always been important, but now they became essential. Talent by itself no longer sufficed to gain appointments and to make a career. The result of these developments was the emergence of tightly organized political machines which fought fiercely to control patronage for the benefit of their clientele. In virtually every province the local Conservative and Liberal parties each split into two or more factions which struggled for mastery against each other with scant regard to party labels. Since the rewards were so high, the factions were willing to go to the extreme in order to win, to the point that two parallel and competing provincial assemblies claiming legitimacy sought recognition from the national government. Such a ferocity of competition and disregard for established procedures put great strain on the existing system of governmental control. The task of the national government was complicated by the effects of the electoral reform law of January . For the first time in Brazil’s history, the elections had been conducted with a high degree of impartiality and fairness. The result was a Chamber of Deputies in which the Liberals won seventy-five seats and the Conservatives forty-seven.93 On neither side of the house did party discipline rule, although the Liberals were considerably less well organized and far less disciplined than the Conservatives. Deputies tended to place their provincial, regional, and clientistic interests ahead of loyalty to their party. No president of the Council of Ministers could command obedience from his party’s deputies or marshal a secure majority. Pedro II’s skills in political management were put to the test as they were coming under fire. During the life of the Chamber of Deputies that sat from January  until September , no fewer than four cabinets took office. José Antônio Saraiva, ever careful to conserve his political capital, offered his ministry’s resignation as the new legislature opened on January , . He was replaced as president of

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  , ‒ the council by Martinho Alvares da Silva Campos, a veteran Liberal from Minas Gerais. Outstanding in his skills in opposing governments, Martinho Campos showed no ability in the arts of managing men and affairs. His cabinet, dubbed “the canoe of Father Martinho” [a canoa do Pai Martinho], existed for less than six months.94 The ministry formed by the marquis of Paranaguá in July  managed to last out the session, but when the legislature reconvened in May  it fell victim to the deputies’ dissatisfaction. To replace the Paranaguá cabinet Pedro II called on Lafaiete Rodrigues Pereira, a signatory of the Republican Manifesto in . This ministry existed for exactly a year. It collapsed in May , like its predecessor the victim of the deputies’ discontents. The emperor thereupon called to office Manuel Pinto de Sousa Dantas, a senator from Bahia province who had already served in two cabinets.95 The lack of party discipline in the Chamber of Deputies was one reason for this rapid turnover in ministries. The Liberal majority being only thirty votes, the loss of support among just twenty deputies would bring a cabinet down.96 A second cause for the short-lived cabinets was the huge budget deficit. Since it was politically impossible to raise taxes, all the ministries announced that they would cut expenditures to eliminate the deficit. However, by adopting a policy of “the most rigorous economy,” the cabinets were committing suicide. Cutting expenditures meant abolishing posts and reducing payoffs, the very lifeblood of clientelistic politics.97 The third and perhaps most important cause for the instability came outside the legislature. At the same time as electoral politics became increasingly closed, clientistic, and aggressive, there appeared a new form of mass politics. The impetus for its emergence was the question of slavery. After the enactment of the Law of Free Birth in September , the topic had ceased to be an active political question. The intense passions aroused during the law’s enactment made almost everyone willing to leave slavery alone. It was expected, moreover, that the law’s provisions would work effectively to bring slavery to an end.98 By the late s it was obvious that the Law of Free Birth was in most respects a dead letter. The children born of slave mothers since September , , were free in name only. Their condition differed not at all from that of the slaves, and their services were disposed of as if they were slaves. The emancipation fund created by the Law of Free Birth had conspicuously failed to redeem more than a few thousand slaves. The rapid expansion of coffee planting in the province of São Paulo brought an influx of slaves into that province from the north. Slavery seemed capable of surviving for many decades in the country.99 The strength of slavery in Brazil contrasted strongly with its position in Cuba, the only other part of the New World where it still existed. On January , , the Spanish Cortes approved the formal abolition of slavery in the colonies, with

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  , ‒ the former slaves bound to give a further eight years’ service [patronato] to their former owners.100 The flourishing condition of slavery in Brazil both alarmed and affronted a small group, a good proportion being talented and idealistic young men within the ruling circles. For this group, whose leader was Joaquim Nabuco, chattel slavery was not only a denial of Brazil’s claims to civilized standing but also the prime cause for its evident failure to develop as rapidly as the United States had done since  and the Argentine Republic since the s. Abolishing slavery seemed to these men the magic remedy which would cure the social and economic ills so evident by the start of the s.101 The campaign for the immediate abolition of slavery which these young men launched in parliament during  and  would of itself have achieved little. What was significant was the sudden development of a popular movement in favor of abolition. Its supporters were drawn largely from the urban elements, formerly “voters,” who had been deprived of the franchise by the electoral reform law of January . The abolitionist movement was in one sense a mobilization of the aggrieved. It was also a movement against the new ideological exclusivity that scorned the mass of the population because they were poor, uncultured, and not white. Of those participating in the popular movement for abolition, a considerable percentage were of African descent. Ending slavery would, they hoped, remove one cause for prejudice against their color. The single and essentially negative goal of the abolitionist campaign made it an umbrella protest movement attracting every one discontented with the status quo.102 The movement for abolition introduced both a popular and an ideological component previously missing in Brazilian public affairs. The abolitionists were quick to exploit all forms of publicity, to use every opportunity for protest that came their way. The defenders of the status quo were equally determined. Some could not imagine Brazil without slaves; others did not believe the economy could survive without slavery; yet others saw immediate abolition as subversive of the social order and the rights of property. The increasing polarization and bitterness caused by the abolitionist campaign invaded the sphere of electoral politics and the Chamber of Deputies, where the question served to intensify the political instability already discussed. In a letter to the countess of Barral, written on December , , Pedro II reported his distress over “the incident at Entre Rios where they killed  slaves who were there imprisoned for having murdered the son of their owner. This slave question is becoming very grave due to the imprudence of both sides.”103 If the emperor considered both sides to be imprudent in , he found the situation ever more troublesome as the abolitionist campaign grew and spread during the next years. Although personally sympathetic to the idea of abolition and

  

  , ‒ willing to make contributions, often quite substantial, to campaigns to purchase the freedom of slaves, Pedro II was very conscious of the need to avoid alienating the landowning interests that depended on slaves.104 By nature cautious and conservative, he did not favor government personnel being actively involved in campaigns to achieve rapid and radical change.105 The success of the abolitionist movement in securing converts was such that by June  the emperor could not avoid entrusting formation of a new ministry to a Liberal leader sympathetic to the cause. When presenting his cabinet to the Chamber of Deputies, Manuel Pinto de Sousa Dantas declared that the Law of Free Birth of September , , no longer sufficed. “The government needs to intervene with the greatest seriousness so that this problem can be resolved in a progressive form.” The bill that the Dantas ministry introduced on July  gave freedom to all slaves aged sixty and over. The interprovincial slave trade was abolished and greater revenue provided for the official emancipation fund. A new slave register was to be compiled.106 The measure had every appearance of Pedro II’s handiwork. It attempted to effect a compromise between the opposing sides and so to quiet an agitation which, in his view, threatened to disrupt the Brazilian economy.107 The abolitionist movement backed the measure as the best means of achieving their ultimate goal. After presenting the new bill to the Chamber of Deputies, the Dantas cabinet was met on July , , by a motion of no confidence presented by a Liberal from Minas Gerais. During the debate on this motion Pedro II was fiercely attacked, being dubbed “the conspirator prince” and “the new caricature Caesar.” The ministry was defeated that same day by a vote of fifty-nine to fifty-two, whereupon the president of the Council of Ministers requested from the emperor a dissolution of the lower house, and Pedro II granted it.108 There followed a horrendous struggle in which the ministry used every means in its power, fair and foul, to win a majority in the new chamber. Despite the claims made during the debates on the Electoral Reform Act of , the restricted electorate proved neither independent nor exempt from subornation. It was quite as manipulatable as had been the wider electorate under the old two-tier system.109 The opponents of abolition, both Liberal and Conservative, reacted with fury to the prospect of defeat. As one senior Conservative politician wrote to another in January : For me the constitutional monarchy is impossible. The comedy has lasted for many years but it is no longer possible to continue with the consent and approval of those who don’t believe in it. The hope that I had in the outcome of the election has disappeared. The emperor decrees, and it is done.

  

  , ‒ Dantas did everything at a blow, the approval of his slave bill and the discrediting of the elections. They cannot therefore suppose that a constitutional order can be established by courting the emperor; the final result of so many efforts is the greatest indignity imaginable in power.110

The writer was being too pessimistic. Despite the Dantas cabinet’s best efforts, its opponents were able to take control of the verification of election returns in the new chamber and so to reject the diplomas of those, such as Joaquim Nabuco, who were known to favor the government’s measure. As a result, after the chamber convened, a renewed motion of no confidence, presented on May , brought down the ministry by a vote of fifty-two to fifty.111 The cabinet had no choice but to resign. The emperor thereupon turned to José Antônio Saraiva, who as president of the council had secured passage of the  Electoral Reform Law, to resolve the situation. Saraiva took office and presented a new project which was much more favorable to the slave-holding interests than the Dantas bill had been. By the time his bill had passed the Chamber of Deputies in August  Saraiva could not count on support by the majority of the Liberal deputies and, ever unwilling to put his political reputation at risk, thereupon resigned.112 Since no politician in the Liberal party could hope to form a viable cabinet, Pedro II summoned to office the baron of Cotegipe, leader of the Conservatives. Although defeated on a motion of no confidence in the lower house, the new ministry managed to complete passage of the Saraiva bill into law before obtaining from the emperor a decree dissolving the Chamber of Deputies.113 The Cotegipe cabinet copied the Dantas ministry in manipulating the ensuing elections and proved far more adept at the task than its predecessor had been. The Conservatives secured themselves  seats against  for the Liberals.114 This undoubted setback chilled for a short while the abolitionist campaign. Its supporters were quick to blame Pedro II for abandoning the cause of freedom. Joaquim Nabuco, who failed to secure election as a deputy, even published a pamphlet entitled O erro do imperador [The Emperor’s Mistake]. The Cotegipe cabinet then made the crucial error of interpreting the new emancipation law in as conservative a manner as possible and of subjecting the abolitionist movement to constant harassment. The ministry tried to restrict and even deny the abolitionists access to the press and freedom to hold public meetings. Persecution proved remarkably effective in reviving and radicalizing the antislavery movement.115 The death of two of four slaves condemned to three hundred lashes each by a jury at a trial in a coffee town of Rio de Janeiro province was so effectively exploited by the abolitionists and caused so universal an outrage that the minister of justice himself proposed a law abolishing whipping as a legal punishment. The measure met with little opposition in the legisla-

  

  , ‒ ture and became law in October .116 Writing in response to comments by the countess of Barral, Pedro II told her on January , 7: I have opposed public prisons being used to incarcerate slaves and I have said that it is for the owners to take measures so that they don’t run away and to inflict on them the punishments that the law allows. The punishment of whipping has only recently been abolished.117

When Pedro II wrote these words, he had some weeks earlier celebrated his sixty-second birthday, and had ruled Brazil for over forty-seven years. He continued with his long-established way of life, spending the winter months from the start of May to mid-December at São Cristóvão palace. The summer months he passed at Petrópolis, coming down every Saturday—as had long been his custom—to dispatch business with the ministry. Commenting in August  on reports about the emperor’s diabetes, the count d’Eu remarked: “He is as lusty as a Turk and has lots of energy; I greatly wish that I possessed as much.”118 On the other hand, one of the emperor’s closest acquaintances, then visiting in Rome, admonished Pedro II in early March 7: “Your spirit needs to realize that it cannot maintain the same activity as ten years ago and, for the love of God, no indulgences.”119 In respect to his family, the emperor’s relations with his wife had changed little, although D. Teresa Cristina seems to have become more assertive with her spouse on personal matters. “The [container] with earrings which you mentioned,” wrote Pedro II to the countess of Barral early in , “has been the cause for much recrimination on the part of someone [alguém] who thinks that I have been to blame for their disappearance.”120 In October  the empress broke her arm in circumstances that the count d’Eu explained to his father: “On Monday  when crossing the library on the way to dinner with the emperor who as usual preceded her by a few steps (and with whom, I infer from what she told us, she was arguing as she sometimes does), she caught her foot in a file under a table and fell down flat face forward.”121 Fortunately the accident proved not very serious and the empress’s arm soon mended. More alarming were D. Teresa Cristina’s repeated attacks of cardiac asthma, which in  had briefly forced the suspension of sea bathing by the couple and which often required medical attention.122 The empress’s love for her husband remained undiminished, as shown by her evident distress when he fell sick at the end of . In respect to Pedro II’s relations with his daughter and son-in-law, the middle years of the s saw a distinct improvement. Firstly, the count d’Eu became far more reconciled to life in Brazil than he had previously been.123 Secondly, both the count and D. Isabel, for the first time since the end of her second regency in September , moved out of their domestic isolation to play a role in the pub-

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  , ‒ lic sphere. From November  to March , the couple went on a long official visit to the southern provinces of São Paulo, Paraná, Santa Catarina, and Rio Grande do Sul.124 The visit seems to have been a success, and it had the effect of making the count d’Eu once again comfortable in handling a public role. The visit caused, however, no visible change in the couple’s way of life. A list of visitors to their residence in Petrópolis from January to June  includes no politicians of note save for the marquis of Paranaguá, who as a court chamberlain was often in service at the palace and whose daughter, Amandinha Dória, was D. Isabel’s close friend.125 The single new factor in the life of the imperial family was the coming to adulthood of the emperor’s two grandsons, Pedro Augusto and Augusto. When D. Leopoldina died early in , her four sons stood in line as eventual heirs to the Brazilian throne, since D. Isabel was then without children. The two oldest sons, aged seven and four, came to Rio de Janeiro with the emperor and empress on their return from Europe in March . Surprisingly little evidence remains as to their childhood in Brazil, which must have been somewhat of a lonely existence.126 Their father visited Rio only occasionally, and their grandparents were absent for a year and a half in  and .127 Their aunt and uncle do not seem to have paid much attention to them, especially after the birth of D. Isabel’s first son in .128 The younger of the two boys, Augusto, grew up to be self-sufficient and selfreliant, with no great intellectual interests or high ambitions for worldly success. At the age of fifteen, in December , he entered the Naval School in Rio, moving on to the Naval Academy. In March , when Augusto returned from a training voyage, the count d’Eu wrote: “His visit is, despite the difference in height and age, a great joy for his small cousins with whom he plays throughout most of the day during the time he has spent here.”129 Graduating as a midshipman [guarda marinha] in November , Augusto thereafter pursued his career as an officer in the Brazilian navy.130 The character of Pedro Augusto, the eldest of D. Leopoldina’s four sons, is less easy to interpret. When the young prince graduated from the Colégio D. Pedro II at the end of , the count d’Eu wrote: “He is a very attractive youth wearing white tie and tail coat for the first time, and he is very good in every respect. It is a pity that the emperor, following one of his bizarre theories, does not wish to make him a soldier because he could have been very useful as that.”131 Instead of becoming a military engineer as he wished, Pedro Augusto entered the Polytechnic School, where his record was distinguished but not perfect. “Also contributing to the tone of my letter is Pedro’s ‘pass’ mark,” wrote Pedro II to the countess de Barral in March . “He does not lack talent, he has been given the necessary warnings; but only now has he convinced himself, I

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  , ‒ judge, that regular study is indispensable, and not just with a fury before the exam. He is equally at war with his age of  and his quality of prince.”132 As this letter suggests, Pedro Augusto’s relationship with his grandfather was not simple. On the one side, the emperor favored and privileged his grandchild as a male and as an intellectual. Upon the other, he subjected him to very high expectations and kept him under rigid control and isolated from the larger world. In his letter of March , which reported Augusto’s visit, the count d’Eu remarked: “His brother is always kept in seclusion at São Cristóvão by the emperor; the which must be horribly sad in every way for a young man who is going to be  in ten days; he is all alone there with the servants. It will soon be two months since we last saw him, not having the time to visit São Cristóvão on the days when we come down to Rio.”133 Pedro II’s treatment of Pedro Augusto produced in the young prince a lovehate relationship with his grandfather. On the one hand he identified with his grandfather, hungered for his approval, took him as his model, and came to believe that, since he alone among the family possessed the same qualities as the emperor, only he was worthy to succeed Pedro II. On the other hand, Pedro Augusto developed a strong resentment against his grandfather, feeling that Pedro II both denied him intimacy and did not treat him at his true value. More generally, the young prince suspected that others were conspiring to exclude him from the position rightfully his. His rancor was particularly directed against his aunt and uncle, in part because, by having children, they deprived him of the throne that once would have been his, and in part because they showed, as the count d’Eu’s letter attests, little concern for him. To gain his ends, Pedro Augusto learned the arts of dissimulation and manipulation. In fact, intrigue came naturally to him and seems to have given him emotional satisfaction. Late in  when the popular press accused him of disreputable behavior with women, D. Isabel told her father: “From what I know of Pedro I believe him incapable of such a thing, and he poor boy shows himself to be very upset and distraught by such a calumny. He told me that he did not know what to do.”134 Pedro Augusto’s ambitions took a more serious and questionable turn as he completed his training at the Polytechnic School . In June the count d’Eu wrote to his father: “He is a good young man whom I recommend to you; very intelligent, careful and adroit in the pursuit of his interests which for the moment are limited to forming collections of every sort.” In reality his interests were not so limited. The count d’Eu considered that a visit to Europe would free Pedro Augusto from “the insinuations which he has often received and which he has had to reject; he felt out of loyalty he had to warn me about them.” “I myself am persuaded that all this does not go beyond airy speculations, as is all too common in the country of gossip.”135 These insinuations and speculations were

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