Raised from the Ground

Canastro, with all the respect that their difference in age required, and said, Senhor Sigismundo, if I’m needed, I can help. We would be much deceived if we were to think that this impulse came from Sigismundo Canastro’s quiet way of describing his experiences, which, in temperaments like Manuel Espada’s, might well have provoked such an important decision, the proof of this is that Manuel Espada went on to say, No one should treat a man the way they treated my father-in-law, and Sigismundo Canastro answered, No one should treat men the way we were treated, but let’s talk later, these arrests and imprisonments have muddied the waters, best to let a little time pass to allow the mud to settle, because these things, like fishing nets, take longer to mend than to break, and Manuel Espada responded, I’ll wait as long as is necessary.

Sometimes, when you sit down to read the history of this Portuguese land, you come across such silly things they make you smile, although in this case, outright laughter seems to be called for, and I mean no offense, each person does what he can or as the hierarchy orders him to do, and if it was a fine and praiseworthy thing for Dona Filipa de Vilhena^* to arm her sons so that they could go and fight for the restoration of the fatherland, what can one make of Manuel Espada, who, with no cavalry to back him up, says simply, Here I am, he has no mother to urge him on, she, of course, is dead, only his own will. Dona Filipa did not lack for people to sing her praises and describe her heroism, there was João Pinto Ribeiro, the Count of Ericeira, Vicente Gusmão Soares, Almeida Garrett, and Vieira Portuense painted her portrait, but Manuel Espada and Sigismundo Canastro have no one to take their part, it’s simply a conversation between two men, they have said what they have to say and now each goes his own way, there is no call for oratory or paintbrushes, this narrator is all they need.

Indeed, as an aid to our understanding of these events, let us take another slow walk about the latifundio, with no particular goal in mind apart from picking up a stone or a branch and giving it a proper name, seeing what animals live there and why, and since we can hear guns firing over there, although what that’s about we have no idea, let us begin right here, well, what a coincidence, this is the same road that José Calmedo took when he went to arrest João Mau-Tempo, indeed, given how easy it is to find oneself back where one was before, the latifundio seems more like a minifundio, not a large estate but a very small one. True, the last time we came this way it wasn’t quite as noisy, but there’s the ruined water wheel and, beyond, invisible, the brick kiln, don’t worry about the shooting, it’s probably just target practice or something, with proper bullets, mind, none of those lead pellets fit only for a little light hunting, quite a different kettle of fish.

The firing has stopped and we can walk on quite happily now, but look, there’s a man coming from the same direction as the shooting, by his looks we would say he’s one of us, and he crosses the valley, that smooth expanse of dark earth, goes over a small bridge with a low handrail, it’s only a tiny stream, and starts to climb up this side of the valley, through thick, thorny undergrowth marked by the faintest of trails, Why is he going over there, with no hoe and no mattock, with no ax and no pruning hook, let’s sit here and rest awhile, he’ll have to go back down again and then we’ll know, you were saying that this is a wilderness, Well, it is, and don’t go thinking that the track through the brambles will be much use to the lackey who just passed, You mean he’s a lackey, He certainly is, But he’s not wearing livery, No, livery’s a thing of the past, from the days when the countess armed her own sons, if you know who I mean, no, nowadays lackeys dress like you and me, well, not like you, you’re from the city, even we can tell them apart by the way they behave, But why do you say that the track through the brambles won’t be much use to him, Because what he’s looking for lies off the beaten track, and he can’t turn around, he has to go straight ahead, those are his orders, using his crook to beat a path through the undergrowth, that’s worse than useless, But why is he doing it, Because he’s a lackey, and the more scratches he has on him when he goes back, the better, So that old rule applies here as well, does it, It does, but to go back to our conversation, I was saying what a wilderness it is here, but it wasn’t always like this, believe you me, there was a time when this whole area was cultivated right down to the bottom of the valley, it’s good soil, and there are springs aplenty, not to mention the stream, So how did it become like this, Let’s see now, the father of the present owners, the ones who were doing the shooting, eventually took over this whole area, it was the usual thing, a few small farmers got into financial difficulties, and he, I can’t remember what his name was now, Gilberto or Adalberto or Norberto, something like that, lent them money, which they couldn’t pay back, well, times were hard, and he ended up owning the lot, That doesn’t seem possible, It’s perfectly possible, it’s what’s happened all the time on the latifundio, the latifundio is like one of those mules that’s always biting the mule next to it, You amaze me, Oh, if