It was the early hours of the morning, as the soldiers gathered in the Santo Ovídio Field outside Porto: Costa had told them to be there for a military parade. A priest was there to celebrate mass, and when that had finished, a salute of artillery was fired. Then, at eight o'clock, the men received orders to march to the grounds of the Town Hall: Costa was waiting for them there, holding a piece of paper in his hand, containing a declaration.
Once everybody was gathered, Costa read out his speech in a ringing voice:
"Soldiers of Portugal, we are gathered here today to finally take some action about the state of our poor country. We are to march on Lisbon and finally depose that dreadful Regency. Let's join our brothers-in-arms to organise a provisional government that will call on the Cortes to draw up a constitution, whose absence is the origin of all our ills. In particular, we demand that the royal family leave Brazil and once again take up residence in this country, to restore the metropolitan dignity. We demand that Portugal be transformed into a limited monarchy, where the Cortes makes the laws and the King executes them. We want to restore our exclusive right to trade with Brazil. We want Brazil, that presumptuous colony, reduced from a kingdom to a principality. Our brothers in Spain have shown us what is possible: now it is our turn. Are you ready to do this?"
"Yes!", came an enthusiastic roar from all present.
"Right then", shouted Costa. "To Lisbon!"
Another loud cheer, and Costa led his men southwards.
In a room in Queluz Palace in Lisbon, the Regency Council was meeting. Sitting at the head of the table was its chairman, the Duke of Oliveira, a short, wizened, sharp-featured man.
"Are you all agreed that we need to crack down on the Freemasons?", he asked.
But before anyone could answer, Costa and his soldiers burst into the room, pointing their guns at the men inside.
"In the name of the Portuguese nation, I declare the Regency abolished", announced Costa.
"What are you doing, traitor?", demanded Oliveira, with a mix of anger and fear. "Who are you?"
"My name is Rodrigo Costa and I am an army officer. I am no traitor", announced Costa. "My men and I have come here to depose you tyrants, and to call elections to the Cortes."
"And what do you want the Cortes to do?", asked the Marquis of Palmela, a short, dark-haired man with a prominent nose.
"We want a constitution, we want the King to come back to Portugal, and we want Brazil reduced to a principality", announced Costa.
"Why", said Palmela cautiously, "not all of these are unreasonable demands."
"They are treasonous demands!", thundered Oliveira.
"No", said Costa, "you are the traitor for standing against the people"
He pointed his gun directly at Oliveira, who quailed.
"My men will now escort you off the premises", announced Costa.
Oliveira made as if to argue, but quickly realised it was useless, and let out an angry sigh instead. At a nod from Costa, the soldiers seized the Regency members, some of them more roughly than others. As the soldiers and their reluctant companions were leaving the room, Costa proclaimed:
"I hereby declare that elections shall be held to the Cortes, and that until a constitution is adopted, the glorious Spanish constitution shall be in force in Portugal."
The Necessidades Palace was buzzing with excitement as the members of the General and Extraordinary Cortes of the Portuguese Nation took their seats. They sensed that they were part of something historic, that momentous events were about to be set in motion. Once everybody had sat down, Costa got to his feet.
"Members of the Cortes, may I welcome you to this historic day, the first meeting of this great institution in more than 120 years. There is much work ahead of us, but first there are a few steps I would like us to take. I propose that all political prisoners be released, that censorship be ended, that the Inquisition be abolished, and that an amnesty be offered for those involved in activities against our revolution. I would like to submit each of these proposals to a vote."
The votes were cast, and all four proposals were adopted. Then Palmela stood up.
"Members of the Cortes", he said, "I have a proposal that I would wish to put forward. As Foreign Minister, I suggest that I should sail to Brazil to inform the King of what has transpired. I will do my utmost to persuade His Majesty to recognise the Cortes and the constitution that will be adopted. Does Senhor Costa agree with this idea?"
"Certainly", said Costa, "I think we will all agree that His Majesty needs to know what has happened, and I hope you will be able to show him that we mean him no harm."
There was a general murmur of assent.
Palmela was at Lisbon harbour, approaching the ship that would take him to Brazil. Walking beside him was the Duke of Terceira, an oval-faced man with sticking-out ears and a moustache.
"Are you sure about all this?", Terceira was asking.
"I don't agree with everything the revolutionaries are saying and doing, and certainly not with how they seized power", explained Palmela, "but I do think there needs to be some change. I hope the King will accept the general principles of reform, but will also moderate their more extreme demands."
"Do you think he will?", asked Terceira.
"We'll see, won't we?", replied Palmela.
They were now just in front of the ship's gangplank.
"Well", said Palmela, putting his hand on Terceira's shoulder, "this is where we say our farewells."
"May good fortune be with you", said Terceira, with a sad smile.
Palmela smiled back at his friend, then boarded the ship, waving at Terceira as he did so. Terceira waved back, and kept on waving until the ship passed out of sight.
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