I went quietly about my business, taking care not to involve myself in the fractions, and keeping a wary eye out for Gaspar Caldeira de Rodrigues and his friends. Now and again I crossed their paths, and there was sour glaring aplenty, but they took no action against me.
The ship from Brazil arrived in the midst of this, bearing some few new colonists and also none other than the gentle Barbosa, who had returned to oversee the taxation of the colony. By chance I was at the docks as he came ashore, and he looked at me with such amazement as though he beheld a ghost.
“What, Battell, here still, and alive?”
“Aye. Would a small thing like a shipwreck injure my health, d’ye think?”
“Shipwreck? What shipwreck? It was the bloody flux I thought would carry you off. They said you would not live.”
“Ah, but I did, and much has happened since that time!”
We embraced each other warmly. It was two years since last I had seen him, this now being the April of ‘93. He seemed leaner and more than two years older, but he was as elegantly dressed as ever, in sea-green breeches and a fine light cloak of lavender hue, and a high-crowned narrow-brimmed hat.
He drew back and inspected me and said, “You look healthy enough. What is this, now, have you been to sea?”
“Aye. When I came forth from my illness I went to prison awhile, and was forgotten there, and then was drawn up from oblivion and hired by Don João to pilot his pinnace along the coast, in the ivory trade. The which pinnace was lost in my most recent voyage, coming home from Loango, but as you see I stayed afloat, and I think will be sailing again before long.”
“This is not the fate I thought was marked out for you,” said he. “You have your freedom, then?”
“Freedom of sorts,” I answered. “I have a house and servants, and they tell me that on my next voyage I am to be given a share of the profits, which be kind of them, though not a tenth so kind as simply letting me go home to England. That thing will they not do, although they have made airy promise of it, if only I undertake a few more voyages for them first. But I think there will be neither voyages nor profits this season, owing to the civil war that we soon will have.”
That startled Barbosa. “Civil war?”
“Aye,” I said, and told him of the troubles between Don Francisco and the Jesuits, and now this maneuvering between Don João and Don Jeronymo. All this he heard with much show of dismay and distress, for Barbosa was a decent man, and strife among Portugals gave him much pain. At the end of my recital he shook his head most sadly, and walked about in a small circle.
Then he said, “They are fools to do these things. With so many enemies gathering outside the city, they cannot allow themselves the luxury of contending for power within. I will speak with Don João.”
“Telling him what, may I ask?”
“To give over, and wait his time. The faction of d’Almeida holds the royal commission, for the moment. Don João is the best ruler for this place, but only if he come to power by legitimate means.” Barbosa seemed journeying in thought a moment. Then he smiled and took his arm and said, “How strange it is, and how fine, that you who came here as a scorned prisoner should live, and even thrive, and have servants! I am greatly joyed to see your good fortune. Will you dine with me tomorrow night?”
“Most gladly,” said I. “I would take high pleasure in your company, and I hope you will share with me such news as you bring from the world without. For I am mightily curious about events.” And I did laugh. “How strange it is, yes, Senhor Barbosa, that I endure here, and prosper, and now am even invited to dine with an official of the Portuguese court! It was not what I imagined when first I set sail for America. There are times, senhor, when this adventure seems but a dream to me.”
“From which you would readily awaken, I venture, and find yourself in your bed in England.”
“Aye, perhaps. But instead when I wake I feel the heat and moisture close against my skin, and see the strange heavy trees of scarlet blossoms beyond my window, and hear the beasts of Africa bellowing in their jungle. And I know it is no dream.”
“Say, then, it is a dream within a dream. You are in England still.”
“That is a pretty fancy, Senhor Barbosa,” I said, smiling with it. “Would that it were so!”
Barbosa’s goods now had been unladed from the ship, and slaves were come to fetch him into town, carrying him in a sort of litter made of cords, much like a hammock. Throughout Angola and the Kongo it is the custom for great personages to be borne in such hammocks when they go about, especially in the rainy season, when the paths are muddy underfoot. Barbosa asked me to accompany him; but there was no other litter to hand, and we did not care to wait while the blacks returned to town to fetch a second one, and Barbosa would not have me walk alongside whilst he was borne. Then the head slave proposed that I be carried in the arms of two or three of the strongest blacks, but that seemed absurd to me and most objectionable. So in the end we dismissed the carriers and walked to the town upon our own legs, which I suppose was not the proper deportment for a man of Barbosa’s rank.
While we were still some distance out, a young Portugal of the militia appeared, running, who halted when he saw Barbosa. He was in full armor and did stream with his sweat. Looking somewhat surprised to discover us going by foot, he saluted and said, much troubled by hard breathing, “I seek the fiscal registrar Lourenço Barbosa, newly arrived from Brazil.”
“I am he,” said Barbosa.
“I am instructed to tell you that Governor Don Francisco d’Almeida has resigned his post this morning, and that you are to report with the most extreme swiftness to his brother Don Jeronymo, who at the urgent request of the council has taken up the reins of government.”
“Ah,” said Barbosa, and he and I did exchange glances. “Is all peaceful in the city, then?”
“All is peaceful,” the soldier said.
“And how fares it with Don João de Mendoça?” I asked.
The soldier looked toward me as though I were some serpent with legs. “I have no instruction to speak with you, Englishman.”
For that disdain I would readily have slain him, were I not unarmed and he encased in leather and steel. But Barbosa diverted my sudden rage by mildly saying, “His question also has interest for me. I pray you speak.”
“Don João has been detained for his own safety, since there are those of the d’Almeida faction that have made threats against him. But he is unharmed and in no peril.”
“Ask now about the Jesuit fathers,” I requested of Barbosa.
But the soldier now deigned to reply to me direct. “The Jesuits are within their compound. Don Jeronymo will meet with them tomorrow to discuss a reconciliation of the civil and spiritual powers of the city.”
“Then all is well,” Barbosa said. “Come: let us proceed to the new governor and pay our respects.”
“Have you no bearers?” asked the soldier.
“They have been dismissed. I have spent these many weeks past aboard a small vessel; my legs need stretching.” With this Barbosa smiled most graciously, and we continued onward, escorted now by the soldier and by half a dozen other Portugals who, I discovered, had been waiting a short distance along the road.
The city was peaceful indeed. Soldiers stood posted at each corner of the plaza and outside every of the municipal buildings, and in front of the Jesuit compound as well, and before the palace of Don João. No one other was in sight, nor was there any sign of any strife. Whatever upheaval had taken place in São Paulo de Loanda that morning had been swift; and, I learned shortly thereafter, it had as well been entirely bloodless, which was an amazement to me.