The situation was much as the soldier had described. Disgraced and most utter disheartened, Don Francisco had resigned his governorship that morning, or had had it taken from him. He was now in seclusion and did make ready to leave Africa for Brazil upon that ship that had newly arrived. There had been a brief but somewhat stormy meeting of the council, at which the names of Don Jeronymo and Don João had been proposed for the office, and it was made clear by the supporters of Don Jeronymo that they held a stronger position. Don João had caused his name to be withdrawn, but not before there had been angry words and even a brandishing of knives between a cousin of Don Jeronymo, Balthasar d’Almeida, and a certain João de Velloria. This Velloria, a Spaniard, had been a soldier in Angola for many years and was deemed one of the most valiant warriors there, having distinguished himself greatly in battle against the natives. He was, as well, a devoted ally of the Jesuits. For that reason he abhorred the entire clan of d’Almeida and had thrown his support to the side of Don João de Mendoça, to no avail; and in the words that followed, either he or Balthasar, it is not known, did curse each other’s mothers, and the like. Don João, urging Velloria and Balthasar most strongly to put their weapons by, had stopped the quarrel and, for the sake of tranquility in the city, did offer his allegiance to Don Jeronymo. Now Don João was confined to his own residence under guard, João de Velloria was under more grievous arrest in the fortress, and Don Jeronymo d’Almeida held control of the city.
My own condition, I saw, was precarious. From the harsh tone of that soldier’s voice to me when I was walking with Barbosa, it plainly seemed that I was listed as an adherent to the side of Don João, and therefore I must be far out of favor. Which proved to be the case. When I reached my little cottage I found all my servants gone, and two dour Portugals posted as guards on my doorstep.
“Do you keep my house safe from lions for me?” I asked in a pleasant way.
Not so pleasantly they made reply, “Get ye inside, and remain within, English!”
I did as they bade me. This was no occasion for heroism. Officially I was yet a prisoner of war in this place, for all that I had been allowed to live in the semblance of freedom for a long while. My privileges had grown out of the happenstance that Governor Serrão had taken me into Portuguese service by first using me as a pilot, and Don João had renewed then those privileges by sending me on my two trading voyages northward; but Serrão was long dead, Don João now was fallen, and quite likely I was fallen with him. I counted it fortune that I was merely under house arrest. It might well be, I thought, that by nightfall I would be back in chains, in the familiar old dungeon on the hill. Don Jeronymo had no great reason, after all, to take to his bosom an Englishman, most especially one that was affiliated in loyalty to his enemy Don João.
That I did not go to the dungeon was entirely the working of the good tax-collector Barbosa. All that afternoon and night I did remain in my house, visited by no one and without food or drink; and in the morning I was summoned forth, in tones less rough than before, and conducted to the hall of government. In the room of the tax-roll keeper I found Barbosa, looking weary and unaccustomedly shabby in yesterday’s clothes, as though he had not slept at all. He beckoned me sit and said, “Have you been mistreated?”
“Other than some starvation and thirst, I would not say so.”
“They have not fed you?”
“Not even prisoner slops. I’ve been penned in my own home, or what I call my home, in this land.”
Barbosa gave signal to a slave that he should bring a meal for me.
“It has been a busy night,” he said. “I am supposed to be a financial officer and not some keeper of the peace. But I think I have drawn all these contending sides together. Do you hold any hatred for Don Jeronymo d’Almeida?”
“I know the man not at all. I have had no dealings with any of the d’Almeidas.”
“Nay, you are Don João’s man. Well, and that must be at an end. You must swear yourself loyal to Don Jeronymo, or I cannot protect you further.”
Somewhat overzealously I did reply, “I will swear loyalty to anyone, so long as it will keep me out of that dungeon!” And I said, “Was it you, then, that had me set free this time?”
“It was.”
“Again I must thank you. I have from you a great overplus of kindly treatment, Senhor Barbosa.”
He shrugged my thanks aside. The slave entered with a tray of food and a beaker of palm-wine for me, and whilst I ate Barbosa said, “This colony can afford none of these disputes over the holding of power. During the quarrel of Don Francisco with the Jesuits, the sobas of the province of Kisama, which lies to the south and the east of us, have broken themselves free of their allegiances, and we must pacify them anew. Don Jeronymo knows this. At this moment he is closeted with the Jesuit Father Affonso, repairing that breach. When he has Father Affonso’s blessing, he will gain the allegiance of Velloria and the other soldiers who are respectful of the Jesuits, and everything will be healed, so that we can send armies into the field.”
“And what role have you designed in this for me?” I asked.
“Why, you are the pilot of our navy! Don Jeronymo means for you to sail to the island of São Tomé, and obtain fresh soldiers to aid him in his warfares.”
“Then I am to be trusted, even though I am known friendly to Don João?”
Barbosa said, “Don João is to be leaving Angola shortly. He has agreed to undertake a mission to the court at Lisbon, to seek more troops for this colony, and weapons and horses.”
That news was most disagreeable to me. I had not thought Don João could be dislodged from this place. It was still my hope that he would come into the government, and show favor to me, and permit me to take my departure for England. His going from Angola could only be a calamity for me, especially in that the inquest over the death of Tristão Caldeira de Rodrigues still awaited me.
I said, “Don João allows himself so easily to have Don Jeronymo rid himself of him? I am surprised.”
“There is no room in São Paulo de Loanda now for Don Jeronymo and Don João both. Yet Don Jeronymo dares not raise his hand against Don João, who has many friends. Therefore he finds a pretext for Don João to take himself to Portugal, and Don João finds an honorable way to leave a place where he has lost all his power, and both men are spared further conflict.”
“And when Don João returns? Will there not be strife all over again, then?”
“Ah, that will not be for many months, or even longer. Much can happen in that time, and it is idle to speculate upon it so soon.” Barbosa put his thumbs to his eyes and stroked them, and delicately yawned. “It is agreed, then, that you will serve the new governor most faithfully?”
“It matters not to me who is governor,” I said. “Only that I do remain alive and out of the dungeon, until such time as I can find my passage to my own country.”
“You are a wise man, Andrew Battell.”
“Be I, now?”
“You live not by pride but by good sense. You see your true goal far in the distance, and you make your way toward it shrewdly and without confusion. That I do admire.”
“No sailor ever reached home by sailing into the jaws of a storm,” said I. “I try to keep my sheets aligned so that I will move ever foward, or at least not find myself capsized. Shall we dine tonight as we first discussed, Senhor Barbosa?”
“Another night, I beg you, good Andrew,” said Barbosa with great sweetness. “Tonight I must confer again with Don Jeronymo. Am I forgiven this default?”
“Indeed you are,” I replied. “Let us meet another night, when you be less sorely pressed by these urgent matters.”