Counternarratives by John Keene

happening in the town.” When they had finished,
he, Gaspar, Zé Pequeninho, who was assigned to serve them and carried as many sacks
as he could, and João Baptista, always present, who carried the rest, accompanied
them to the stables, where their horses and the coaches to fetch the rest of them
awaited. D’Azevedo watched each depart, then returned with Dom Gaspar to his office
to formulate a plan in the event that the Dutch did make headway inland.
    D’Azevedo asked his charge to notify the other monks that he would like
to meet that evening, just before Vespers, to discuss the crisis. Before then, he
would examine the house’s inventories to find out what weapons and munition they,
lacking a cannon, possessed. From what he could tell there were but a few: several
very old swords, a hatchet, perhaps a pike and mace (at least that was what someone
had noted down before), and all the agricultural tools, like flails, hoes, and
scythes, that could be put to use if necessary. Also listed was a firearm he had
never seen, some shot, and a small amount of gunpowder. Nearly all save the pike and
farm implements were kept under lock and chain in a vault that he had never entered
but knew was accessible via the chapel’s nave.
    He followed this with inventories of all other aspects of the house: its
finances, the food stocks, the state of the crops, the animals, the slaves. He had
heard throughout his time in school on that the Dutch, unlike Lisbon’s ancient
allies the English, were especially brutal to adherents of the Roman faith, even
though he had also heard the Dutch Church had survived the pox spreading outward
from Saxony and that seductive false prophet of Eisleben. If the local forces
retreated here in their march toward the interior, the monastery would be able to
provide sustenance and shelter; if the Dutch managed to vanquish them, D’Azevedo
reasoned it would be beneficial to have at hand every means to ensure their
magnimity. In the event of a siege he tried to figure how long he and the monks
could hold out. On the back of a letter from the municipal authorities, concerning
rules that had been implemented as of the turn of the year, he designated which
bottles of cane liquor and wine, casks of English beer, horses, sacred implements,
including the gold-plated chalice and the patin, gifts of the Albuquerque family,
that were the pride of the Sacristy, as well as slaves, could be used to curry
favor. He wrote two versions of this, one which he would entrust with Dom Gaspar,
and one which he would keep on his person, to be presented personally to the Dutch
commander if necessary.
    Throughout the day messengers to the monastery brought notice of
the approach of the Dutch fleet, the preparations in town, the lack of response from
Olinda and Bahia, or Heaven forfend, distant Rio de Janeiro, the unlikelihood of
reaching either Lisbon or Madrid, or, as some fancied, London. D’Azevedo wrote out
an appeal to the mother house, but having heard nothing from them in over a month
tore it up, and tried to busy himself with other preparations. He checked the food
rations again, and requested that all the ovens be fired for extra loaves in
preparation for the first waves of refugees and soldiers; explored the feasibility
of fortifications, and ordered cordons of rope tied around the perimeter of the
various fields to prevent them from being trampled; conducted a tally of candles,
lamps and palm oil, and had new candles fashioned out of the latter so that the
house would have sufficient light; and, just before the day plunged into the unquiet
evening, climbed onto the roof himself to roll a white sheet to be unfurled, if
needed, along the house’s façade as a sign of neutrality. The visits from the
outside world ceased completely. D’Azevedo returned to his office to await the
brethren. Only Dom Gaspar appeared at his door.
    â€œWhere are Padres Pero and Barbosa Pires?”