THE END OF THE BRAZILIAN CIVIL WAIL T HE war between
the soldiers and sailors of Brazil has ended at last, to the relief, we presume, of the Republic, and certainly to the relief of the remainder of mankind. So dull a. war, or one so purely destructive of prosperity, or one in which so little principle was at stake, has not been seen in this century, even in South America. It was rumoured at one time that the Fleet was, on the whole, Monarchical, and intended, if it triumphed, to restore the Braganzas to the throne ; but there was never any proof of this theory, and this fact against it, that Admiral de Mello pledged himself publicly to leave the form of government to be settled by a freely elected Congress. Monarchists fighting for an hereditary dynasty do not, in our days, base the existence of Monarchy on a General Election. It has been rumoured, again, more recently, that the object of the revolt was to restore the privileges of the Church, which have been cur- tailed by the Republic, and that the mysterious source from which the Fleet always obtained money was the treasure of the monasteries and cathedrals ; but there is no proof that this story is correct. That both Mon- archists and Churchmen sought to profit by a revolt which might upset a Republican and agnostic Government is likely enough, but we fear that the original cause of the civil war was jealousy between the Army and Navy, and that each Service was willing to destroy the prosperity of the country if only it could obtain possession of the Government, and with it of the sources of promotion, distinction, and pay. So far as the world knows, there never until the end were any offers of compromise. The soldiers fired on the fleets for months without pro- ducing any result beyond a few deaths ; the soldiers fired on the forts for months with no consequence except the destruction of valuable buildings and the killing of a few more men than the soldiers killed. There were no heroic feats done during the war ; no original plans were attempted, and no great sufferings were inflicted, except upon traders' pockets. General Peixoto's resources in men and money never failed ; the sailors were unable to follow the Chili= plan and create an army, and to all appearance the war might have dragged on for years. Fortunately, however, for humanity, if not for Brazil, the United States took sides informally with the regular Government, Marshal Peixoto was allowed to buy a fleet and some heavy naval artillery in America, and when it arrived off Rio, the insurgents gave up the struggle. The end was as dull and ignoble as the beginning of the strife. The insurgent leaders did not fight, but fled to foreign war- ships ; and Marshal Peixoto did not pardon, but menaced executions. Millions have been spent by the Government and by the party, whichever it was, that maintained the Fleet, and millions have been lost by the trading popula- tion ; but the only result is that a bad Government re- mains in power, probably a little more despotic,—certainly a good. deal more bloodthirsty. Monarchism has gained nothing, clericalism has gained nothing, liberty has gained nothing. It is even doubtful if the stability of authority has gained anything, for although Marshal Peixoto, the legal President, remains f e nue in Rio, it is believed that he has lost the southern provinces, which broke away during the war, and will probably never return. Of the men whose names have emerged during the struggle, none offers any hope for the future. Marshal Peixoto is accused both of cruelty and corruption ; Admiral de Mello allowed himself to be drawn away to a local scene of war, and Admiral da Gama, after surrendering his fleet, fled away to protect himself from execution. Nobody imagines that Brazil will now be happy, or that its people will be free, or that there will be any progress other than the little which went on even under the Empire, and which can hardly be avoided when millions of square miles of fertile land are awaiting cultivation. We can recall no war so little fruitful of any result upon which a civilised mind can dwell with any pleasure.
We suppose we ought to rejoice that the insurgents have been defeated. The Republic of Brazil is a legal Government, and mutiny by the armed forces of a State is almost an unforgivable offence. It is treachery in its worst form—the treachery of the trusted against those who trust them—and if it frequently occurred, would, by separating moral right from physical force, render civilisation almost impossible. The mutiny of a Navy, too, is almost worse than that of an Army, because the Navy can hardly hope to found a new and alternative system. It may, in rare instances, upset a Government, though we can hardly recall any case except Admiral de Mello's revolt against Marshal Fonseca; but it cannot hope to establish a new one which shall content the country ; and, indeed, Admiral de Mello failed so completely, that he took once more to insurrec- tion. The power of a navy, in fact, is limited to destruction. Marshal Peixoto was defending legality, and we ought therefore to sympathise with him ; but somehow the sympathy is not forthcoming. The truth is, the mind refuses to look on the Spanish and Portuguese States of America as civilised States at all ; but regards them, as does most States in Asia and Africa, as embryonic com- munities in which force and law have not done their work, and in which mutiny, therefore, is only rebellion. It is clear that this is the national feeling in England, for we regard the refusal of pardon to Admiral da Gama and his men as the height of cruelty, whereas, if the State is fully civilised, they deserve death much more than ordinary murderers. We suppose the truth is, that whenever remedy for wrongs can be obtained only by force, the right of insurrection, which we acknowledge in all populations, extends to the armed forces of the State, and that Admiral da Gama and his men held morally the position of ordinary insurgents. We cannot, however, expect a Portuguese- American President to take that view of his country, and have hardly the right, after putting down the Sepoy revolt in India, to say that Marshal Peixoto has no right to try the leaders in a naval mutiny by court-martial, and if convicted, shoot them. We should certainly do it our- selves ; nor would any one have dreamed of blaming the Emperor Pedro, if, after putting down the revolt of his soldiery, he had shot Marshal Fonseca as a mutineer. It is necessary to be just, even to Portuguese-Americans, and we are not just when we condemn them as ruffians for thinking that mutiny in arms directed against the State may fairly be considered a capital offence.