The Great Stain Read online

  Soon Antam Goncalvez was joined by Nuno Tristam, “a youthful knight, very valiant and ardent,” who came in an armed caravel—a ship much better suited to these waters than Goncalvez’s barca, as it could carry a larger cargo and, with its lateen rigging, could sail into the wind. Nuno Tristam’s mission was to explore still farther along the coast as well as “to capture some of the people of the country.” He had brought along an Arab to serve as interpreter with the locals, “but they were not able to understand him because the language of these people was not Moorish, but Azaneguy [Tuaregs] of Sahara.” So instead of negotiating, Goncalvez and Tristam joined forces for a night attack on two nearby encampments. Four men were killed and ten prisoners, including women and boys, were taken back to the ships, among them a chief called Adahu, who was able to converse with the interpreter in Arabic. Next day the interpreter was sent ashore with a message offering to sell the prisoners back to the natives and to discuss other trading matters.

  However, two days later, instead of traders, “there came about a hundred and fifty Moors on foot and thirty-five on horses and camels.” Not only did they appear “barbarous and bestial,” they also tried to lure the Portuguese into an ambush near the shore; but this act of “treachery” was detected before they landed. Returning to their ships, and abandoning the Arab interpreter, they partitioned the captives, and then Antam Goncalves returned to Portugal, while Nuno Tristam explored farther along the coast.

  According to Azurara, Prince Henry expressed “pleasure and delight” at the arrival of Goncalves’ captives, not because they and the others that would surely follow promised “a sum of riches,” but because of “his holy purpose to seek salvation for the lost souls of the heathen, as I have already mentioned in chapter seven.” Indeed, it was the captives who were the lucky ones, “for although their bodies were now brought into some subjection, that was a small matter when compared with the true freedom that their souls would now possess for evermore.”

  Meanwhile, these events attracted the notice of the Vatican, whose support Henry was keen to obtain. At that time canon law allowed the enslavement of captives only if they were taken in a just war, such as a crusade, and only if they were not Christians. But if the current pope, Eugenius IV, could be persuaded to extend the definition of the long-approved crusade against the Moors to include Henry’s West African ventures, then they could proceed with a clear conscience and a guarantee of “the salvation of the souls of those who should meet their end in that conquest.”

  But while willing to extend to the Portuguese raiders the offer of “complete forgiveness of all their sins, of which they shall be truly penitent at heart,” Eugenius not only confirmed the ban on enslaving Christians but extended it to those likely to be converted, as he explained in an encyclical known as Sicut Dudum (Latin for “Not long ago”) issued on January 13, 1435.

  “To our venerable brothers, peace and apostolic benediction, etcetera.

  “Not long ago, we learned from our brother Ferdinand, bishop of Rubicon and representative of the faithful who are residents of the Canary Islands … the following facts.” Among these facts was that “some Christians (we speak of this with sorrow) have approached the said islands by ship, and with armed forces taken captive and even carried off to lands overseas many persons of both sexes. Some of these people were already baptized; others were tricked and deceived by the promise of Baptism, having been made a promise of safety that was not kept. They have deprived the natives of their property, or turned it to their own use, and have subjected some of the inhabitants of the said islands to perpetual slavery.” As a consequence, many other islanders “have abandoned their intention of receiving Baptism, thus offending the majesty of God, putting their souls in danger, and causing no little harm to the Christian religion.” Therefore, “with a holy and fatherly concern for the suffering of the inhabitants,” it was ordered that everyone concerned should immediately “desist from the aforementioned deeds,” and all natives held captive were “to be totally and perpetually free, and to be released.”

  However, while easy to promulgate, encyclicals were hard to enforce; and anyway, it was not long before Sicut Dudum was replaced with other decrees, and the conquest of west Africa declared to qualify as a crusade. And so, when Prince Henry dispatched six armed caravels on yet another raid, he ordered that “banners should be made with the Cross of the Order of Jesus Christ, one to be hoisted on each caravel.”

  This expedition, commanded by Lancarote da Ilha and Gil Eannes, the first to round Cape Bojador, was a big success. First they landed on an island near the mainland, where they made a dawn assault on a seaside village. “Shouting ‘Santiago!’ ‘San Jorge!’ [Saint George, the dragon slayer], and ‘Portugal!’ they attacked at once, killing and taking all they could. Then might you see mothers forsaking their children, and husbands their wives, each striving to escape as he could. Some were drowned in the water; others thought to escape by hiding under their huts; others stowed their children among the seaweed where our men found them. And at last our Lord God, who giveth a reward for every good deed, willed that for all the labor and expense they had undergone in His service they should that day obtain victory over their enemies, and they took captive of those Moors, what with men, women and children, one hundred and sixty-five, not counting those that perished and were killed. And when the battle was over, all praised God for the great mercy that he had shown them in giving them such a victory.”

  Soon afterward, on another island, Lancarote and his men came upon “nine natives, male and female, going along with ten or twelves asses laden with turtles.” These were easily taken prisoner, “bound tightly and placed in the boats.” Another easy capture took place when “our men saw some of the womenfolk walking along the beach to a creek to collect shell-fish. They captured one of them, who seemed to be about thirty years old, along with her son who was about four and a young girl of fourteen, who was well-shaped and nice-looking, for a Guinea. But the strength of the woman was astonishing, for although three men came upon her and seized her she struggled so fiercely that they were not able to get her into the boat. So one of our men, worried about the delay this was causing and fearing that some of the natives might appear on the scene, hit upon the expedient of snatching her son away from her, and carrying him to the boat; and love of her child compelled the mother to follow behind without any pressure from the two men who were bringing her along.”

  On August 7, 1444, the fleet arrived back at Lagos. “Moved by curiosity, the townspeople hurried down to the beach, where some of them got into boats and rowed out to the ships to welcome their relatives and friends.” The officers went ashore to “kiss the hand of the Prince, their Lord, and to give him a short account of their exploits; after which they took their rest, as men who had returned to their fatherland and homes.

  “And the next day Lancarote, as commander of the expedition, said to the Prince, ‘My Lord, as your Grace is well aware, you are to receive one fifth of these Moors, and of everything else that we have won in those countries where you sent us for the service of God and yourself. But now these Moors, because of the long time we have been at sea, and because of the great sorrow they must feel at finding themselves far from the land of their birth, and being held in captivity, and not knowing what will happen to them; and also because they are not used to life on board a ship—for all these reasons they are in a poor condition, so I suggest that early tomorrow morning they should be landed and taken to the field just outside the city gate, where they will be divided into five parts, according to custom. And if your Grace will attend, you may choose whichever part you prefer.’

  “On the next day, very early in the morning because of the great heat, the seamen began to make ready their boats and bring their captives ashore. And these people, placed all together in that field, were a sight to be wondered at; for some among them were quite white and fair, and well-proportioned; others were less white and more like mulattoes; others again were as bla
ck as Ethiops.

  “But who could be so hard-hearted as not to be filled with pity at the sight of those people? For some kept their heads low, their faces bathed in tears as they looked at each other, while others stood groaning piteously, looking up to heaven and exclaiming loudly, as if asking for help from the Father of Nature; others struck their faces with the palms of their hands, throwing themselves full length upon the ground, and still others made dirge-like lamentations, after the manner of their country. And though we could not understand their words, the sounds they made were full of sadness.

  “To add to their suffering the officials responsible for dividing the captives now arrived, and began separating them from each other into five equal parts; and so fathers were separated from sons, husbands from wives, brothers from brothers.

  “Completing the partition was very difficult, for as often as sons were placed in one part, seeing their fathers in another, they would rush over to join them; mothers threw themselves on the ground, clasping their children in their arms and ignoring the blows that rained down on them. Moreover, to make matters worse, the field was invaded by crowds of people who had taken the day off from work and had come out from the town, and from the nearby countryside and villages, and were now causing such tumult and confusion as to make the business of handling and dividing the captives even more difficult.

  “The Prince was there, mounted on a powerful steed and accompanied by his retinue. He showed little interest in his share of the profits and very soon had given away the forty-six captives that came to him as his fifth. His chief reward and greatest pleasure lay in the thought that so many lost souls would now be brought to salvation.

  “Nor was this expectation in vain, for as soon as they had learned our language these people at once became Christians. And I, who composed this work of history, have seen in the town of Lagos boys and girls who were the children and grandchildren of those first captives, born in this country, and now as good and true Christians as if they had descended directly from those who were first baptized.”

  Furthermore,

  “As our people did not find them hardened in the belief of the other Moorish infidels, but came with a good will to the law of Christ, they made no difference between them and their free servants, born in this country. Those who were still young were taught the mechanical arts, and those who were capable of managing property were set free and married to Portuguese women, sharing their property just like other people. Yea, and some widows of good family who had bought some of these female slaves either adopted them or left them part of their estates in their wills, so that later on they made good marriages. Moreover I never once saw any of these slaves put in irons like other captives, and scarcely any who did not turn Christian and was not very well treated.

  “And so their lot was quite different from what it had been. Before their capture they had lived in perdition of their souls and of their bodies—of their souls because they were pagans, without the clearness and light of the Holy Faith; and of their bodies because they had lived like beasts, without any of the habits or customs of civilized beings.”

  Chief Chronicler Azurara concluded his work in 1448, when he estimated that a total of nine hundred and twenty-seven “infidels had been brought from those lands to this, through the virtue and talents of our glorious Prince Henry.” He promised that another book “would record the rest of the Prince’s deeds, although the events that followed were not accomplished with such toil and bravery as in the past. For after this year the affairs of that region were carried out more by the trading and bargaining of merchants than by bravery and force of arms.”

  This change of policy was to be expected. In their first raids the Portuguese had enjoyed the advantage of surprise, but this did not last long and, once on the alert, their intended victims put up a fierce resistance. Sometimes this was collective, as when one of Lancarote’s raiding parties sent two men to scout ahead, who soon came running back to warn the others, “telling them to run as fast as they could because a powerful force of Moors was headed their way. So they at once made for the boats, while the Moors came after them as fast as they could. And then it pleased our Lord God, who succors all those who go in his service, that the Christians should reach the shore before the Moors could come up with them. But before they could get safely into the boats, the Moors came up and began to attack them, and it was only with great difficulty that they managed to embark. There were about three hundred of these fighting Moors who made it very clear that they meant to defend their land.” (By now the Portuguese had ventured “more than 110 leagues beyond Cape Verde,” and often used the terms Moors, Guineas and Negroes more or less interchangeably.)

  At other times the resistance was individual, as in this incident which took place when, soon after landing, some soldiers commanded by Dinis Diaz came across footprints in the sand. Following these tracks they soon caught sight of some Moors, gave chase and captured nine of them, men and women. While the main party went on, six of the raiders were ordered to bind these prisoners and take them back to the ship, but this turned out to be more difficult than expected. “And since women are usually stubborn, one of the women prisoners refused to walk, throwing herself on the ground and letting herself be dragged along by her hair and legs, having no pity on herself; and because of her over-great stubbornness our men were forced to leave her there on the ground, intending to return for her another day. And while they were arguing about this the other prisoners began to scatter, some running in one direction and others in another direction, so that two of them got away; and though our men tried to catch them they failed to do so, for they were in a spot where there were plenty of places to hide. So in the end they were able to bring only six captives to the place where they had landed, and where they were joined by the rest of their party. Some of them wanted to go back for the Mooress who had been left in bonds, but as it was very late and the sea was dangerous they gave up the attempt and embarked in their boat, which set sail at once. And so the foolishly stubborn Mooress was left behind strongly bound in that place, where she no doubt met with a troublesome death.”

  Such acts of resistance increased. Soon after the encounter with the Mooress, Dinis Diaz found it impossible even to get on shore, “for though our men tried to land many times, they always encountered such a bold defense that they dared not come to close quarters.” Moreover “the people of this land are not so easy to capture as we desire, for the men are very strong, alert and well prepared for combat, and their arrows are poisoned with a very dangerous herb. Therefore it seemed best to us that we ought to turn back, for if we tried to attack these people it would be the cause of our deaths. So they mended their sails and prepared to depart.”

  The new policy of “trading and bargaining” rather than “bravery and force of arms” was in place by the time a young Venetian named Alvise da Ca’ da Mosto, also known as Luigi Cadamosto, entered the service of Prince Henry. This happened in 1454 when Cadamosto, then aged twenty-two, and “having sailed to various parts of our Mediterranean Sea, decided to return to Flanders, where I had been once before, in the hope of profit.” While passing the coast of Portugal the Venetian ships were forced by bad weather to stop off at Cape St. Vincent, not far from Sagres, where Prince Henry had his palace. Hearing of them, Henry dispatched Antam Goncalves and some others to invite them ashore, and while doing so Goncalves, who had been the first to bring captives back to Portugal, filled Cadamosto’s head with stories of “seas that had never before been sailed and lands of many strange races where marvels abound, and where they had wrought great gain, turning one soldo into six or ten. On my asking, I was told that Prince Henry allowed anyone who wanted to go there to do so, under one of two conditions; either the trader would fit out a caravel and load it with merchandise at his own expense, in which case he would on his return pay the prince a quarter of all his profits; or the prince would provide the ship and the trader would provide the cargo, in which case the profits would be di
vided evenly.”

  When all this was confirmed by Prince Henry himself, “I made up my mind to go, for I was young, well-fitted to endure all hardships, desirous of seeing things never before seen by anyone of our nation, and also hoped to win honors and profit. I therefore consigned to a relative my share of the cargo going to Flanders and disembarked.” A new caravel was fitted out and on March 22, 1455, “furnished with all necessities, we set sail in God’s name and with high hopes.” Three days later, aided by a north-northeasterly wind, they reached Madeira, six hundred miles away. After a stop-over there, they went on to Cape Blanco, near Arguim, “where begins the sandy country, which desert the Berbers call Sarra [Sahara]. It is a very great desert which takes well-mounted men fifty to sixty days to cross.” The people there were “Muhammadans, and very hostile to Christians; they never remain settled in one place but are always wandering over these deserts; these are the men who go down to the Land of the Blacks, and also up to Barbary. They are very numerous and have many camels on which they carry brass and silver and other things from Barbary to Tanbutu [Timbuktu] and to the Land of the Blacks; and from there they bring away gold and pepper. These people are brown-complexioned and wear white cloaks edged with a red stripe. On their heads the men wear turbans in the Moorish style, and are always barefooted. In these sandy districts there are many lions, leopards and ostriches, whose eggs I have often eaten and found good.”

  On orders from Prince Henry a fortified trading post had been built on the island of Arguim where resident merchants could trade with the Arabs, selling them woolen cloth, cotton, silver, carpets and grain—“for they are always short of food”—and obtaining in return “slaves whom the Arabs bring from the Land of the Blacks, and gold dust. The Arabs also have many Berber horses which they take to the Land of the Blacks, exchanging them with the rulers for slaves. Ten or fifteen slaves are given for one horse, depending on its quality.” Cadamosto estimated that every year a thousand slaves were sent from Arguim to Portugal.