Abreu (Dona Isabel de)

Dona Isabel de Abreu was the daughter of João Fernandes do Arco and Dona Beatriz de Abreu, who were among the first settlers of Arco da Calheta (‘arc of Calheta’) and held a great deal of land there by sesmaria (royal land grant to settlers on condition of cultivation). They came from mainland Portugal and held the rank of fidalgos, which they passed on to their descendants.

The old Madeiran chronicles devote attention to Dona Isabel de Abreu because she was the chief protagonist of a drama that must have caused the most extraordinary sensation in its day, for her contemporaries and later generations alike to have written about it at such length. The facts are these. Dona Isabel de Abreu, widow of João Rodrigues de Noronha, son of the third captain-donatary (capitão-donatário) of Funchal, Simão Gonçalves da Câmara, was living in her house at Arco da Calheta, the owner of a considerable fortune. António Gonçalves da Câmara, a nephew of the same captain-donatary, who lived nearby, then forced his way into Dona Isabel’s house at an unseemly hour, intending to make her marry him. Dona Isabel managed to convince António Gonçalves da Câmara that a proposal of marriage made in such circumstances was improper, and invited him to return the following day, when the formalities of the marriage could be arranged, to which she would gladly consent. António da Câmara set out with a retinue of some fifty horsemen from Ponta do Sol (‘point of the sun’) and Ribeira Brava (‘wild river’) and made for Dona Isabel’s house. In the words of one chronicler, however, she ‘made herself strong in her houses with her people, of whom she had many, and António Gonçalves, finding himself mocked, insulted and affronted, returned to his estate, embarking a few days later for Lisbon’.

Some years later António Gonçalves da Câmara returned to his house in Madeira, still bent on his old aim of marrying Dona Isabel de Abreu. One day, as she was riding to the town (vila) of Calheta (‘small cove’) with some relatives and passed in front of António Gonçalves’s residence, he seized the reins of her horse and, helped by armed men, forced her into his house. News of this extraordinary affair was brought to the ouvidor (judicial officer of the donatary or the Crown) of Funchal, since the captain-donatary was absent. The ouvidor arrived with a large armed force, which was to face the resistance António Gonçalves meant to offer, for he was preparing to defy the ouvidor’s orders and keep Dona Isabel de Abreu captive in his house. A fierce fight was imminent, with supporters, relatives and friends on both sides, when António Gonçalves da Câmara and Isabel de Abreu appeared on a balcony of the residence. They declared that they had reached an amicable agreement and that the ouvidor and the force with him could withdraw.

As these men were preparing to leave, Dona Isabel de Abreu let her intended husband know that, ‘since many of his relatives and friends had come with the Ouvidor, it was not right that they should go back so long a way without eating and, now that all was at peace, he should invite them’. Heeding Dona Isabel de Abreu’s wishes, António Gonçalves ordered ‘the ouvidor with his men, the alcaides, bailiffs and judges of all the towns and places of that captaincy to enter the hall; and Dona Isabel rushed forward and clung to him, saying and complaining that António Gonçalves was holding her by force in that house and that he should aid her with justice’. In the company of the ouvidor and the one hundred and fifty men who made up the armed force, Dona Isabel de Abreu set out for Funchal. Because of the late hour, however, she went to spend the night in the houses of her brother-in-law João Esmeraldo, which stood on the Lombada da Ponta do Sol (‘ridge of Ponta do Sol’), the seat of the said Esmeraldo’s entailed estate (morgadio).

António Gonçalves da Câmara was not a man to resign himself to a fresh humiliation, which he considered the greatest of affronts, at the hands of the woman he wished to win. Driven by the violence of love, by wounded pride or by the ambition to possess her fortune, he at once prepared his revenge, this time resolved on the most extreme violence. He immediately gathered several relatives and friends and many armed men from the neighbouring parishes, not excluding thieves and murderers who were hiding out in the area. He also equipped himself with two falcons, artillery pieces of the time, in order to attack the houses where Dona Isabel de Abreu was staying with the officers of justice. He laid close siege to them until, after eight days, Dona Isabel’s relatives, considering the harm that might come of this bloody struggle, decided that the marriage should take place. This put an end to a quarrel involving, among many others, four brothers, two on each side, who were perhaps ready to kill one another.

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When Dona Isabel de Abreu and António Gonçalves da Câmara had arrived at his estate, says Gaspar Frutuoso, and the two had been wed, great festivities and wedding celebrations were held, at which all those who had accompanied them dined. In the first hall of his residence (passos) stood four pots of fine silver, one in each of its four corners, each holding three almudes of water, with four silver cups, one for each pot, fastened to them by chains of the same metal. And all the honourable people present at that banquet, who would have numbered more than two hundred, not counting others, and servants who were as many again, all ate from silver plate, with no piece of earthenware or pewter mixed into the service. Rich and exquisite dishes of every kind were consumed there, such as the refined women of the island of Madeira know how to make; for besides being very comely, most beautiful, discreet and virtuous, they excel in the perfection of these dishes and in all the inventions of rich things they make, not only in cloth with polished needlework, but also in sugar with delicate fruits’.

Águeda de Abreu, sister of Isabel de Abreu, would not accept either the marriage or the violence that had preceded it, and she laid her complaints before the monarch. He sent the high court judge (desembargador) Gaspar Vaz to Madeira to investigate this strange affair, as a result of which some were sentenced to death and others to banishment. António Gonçalves da Câmara went into hiding and later fled to the Canary Islands, while his wife withdrew to the Convent of St Clare (Santa Clara). From the Canaries he went on to Africa, where he rendered valuable service and distinguished himself by his bravery and courage. This, and still more, no doubt, the intercession with the monarch of his mother, Dona Joana de Eça, who was chief lady of the bedchamber to the queen, won him a pardon, and he was able to return to his homeland, where he lived for some years more with his wife, Dona Isabel de Abreu.

Anyone wishing to know this affair in more detail than the very brief account we have given here should read the description of it in ‘Longing for the Homeland’ (Saudades da Terra), pp. 197 ff.

The episode has been used for several narratives, notably one by the esteemed writer Silva Leal, published in volume 71 of the Panorama under the title ‘Bem querer e mal querer’.

On this subject, see the pamphlet A Lombada dos Esmeraldos na Ilha da Madeira by Father Fernando Augusto da Silva, co-author of this Elucidário.