CHAPTER 15

A New Beginning

SHORTLY BEFORE HE fell ill in December 1861, Paula Brito could still be seen “at the door of his workshop, wearing plain work clothes, with a smile on his face [and] a quip on his lips.”1 However the publisher’s characteristic smile and quip must have vanished during the long months between 1856 and 1857, when the Dous de Dezembro negotiated bankruptcy protection and eventually went into liquidation. During this difficult phase in his career, the bookshop on no. 78, Praça da Constituição, on the corner with Rua de São Jorge, closed its doors, and Marmota fluminense, first issued in 1849, nearly ceased publication. In May 1857, Paula Brito announced that he was going to stop publishing the newspaper, arguing that working as its editor-in-chief had become difficult because his “spirit was overcome by the shock of constant disappointments.” The publisher also confessed that he had been seriously thinking of giving up his “typographic mission.”² However, Marmota fluminense, as well as its editor’s “typographic mission,” were spared by the fall of the Caxias ministry on May 4, 1857.

After the death of the Marquess of Paraná, the president of the Ministerial Council had been the war minister, Luís Alves de Lima e Silva, Marquess and future Duke of Caxias. The cabinet took office on September 3, 1856, the second to be installed since the conciliation of political parties.³ In February of the following year, while the liquidation of Dous de Dezembro was still under way, Paula Brito launched O moderador, published twice a week and entirely focused on the government. Considering that it ceased to be as soon as that cabinet fell, never going beyond its fifteenth issue, we can confidently deduce that Paula Brito had received government funding to cover the costs of its publication. Thus, it lavished praise on the Caxias ministry, as we can see in O moderador’s prospectus:

It is to the current ministry that we owe the implementation of a broad and generous policy which has given us the state of prosperity in which we find ourselves, which has opened up the field of discussion to [people of] all capacities and made them co-participants in the state government. Undoubtedly, it is to the ministry’s policies that we owe the death of the parties, so that in their stead the nation appears, manifesting its desires, imposing its will. To this wise and prudent policy we owe, above all, the extinction of the pains and passions with which the activity of Brazilians was consumed.4

It seems nonsensical to refer to a “state of prosperity” when he was struggling with the liquidation of his business. However, the belief in the benefits of party conciliation outweighed such troubles. O moderador’s pages lionized the late Marquess of Paraná and his cabinet, while the battle waged with the opposition press was open and constant—namely against the Correio mercantil, the Diário do Rio de Janeiro, and the Correio da tarde.⁵ In an article entitled “Brief Considerations on Current Politics,” the unnamed writer, certainly Paula Brito, explains that the conciliation of the parties was much more advantageous than the old bipartisan system that had set Liberals against Conservatives, especially when observing that under that system, “the sanctuary of favors was closed to anyone whose emblem was not the symbol of the ruling party, and the intelligentsia were thus cast out from within the government when they lacked the characteristic imprint of its principles or were averse to contradictions and despotism.”⁶

The writer believed that, as long as the party coalition was in place, access to state benefits was open to both Liberals and Conservatives. A year later, in May 1858, it was precisely to this “sanctuary of favors” that Paula Brito returned to say his prayers. When the cabinet fell and O moderador consequently ceased publication, Paula Brito changed his mind about shutting down Marmota fluminense. As he himself explained, in an exasperated tone: “The fall of the ministry brought about the demise of O moderador, a ministerial publication, and we are therefore forced to [continue publishing] Marmota until the end of this six-month period. Yet another setback!”7 Marmota fluminense came out twice weekly during the first half of 1857, although it no longer published fashion plates or sheet music, as it had done during the golden days of Dous de Dezembro.⁸

At the end of that period, the publisher decided to sell space in Marmota fluminense to “a friend,” who began publishing a series of political articles. This strategy must have aimed to prolong the newspaper’s life for a while. However, when he announced the deal, Paula Brito took care to explain to his readers that Marmota now had an anonymous co-editor. He declared that he was not responsible for anything published in regard to politics, “limiting our humble pen and those of our devoted friends . . . to those facetious articles that it [the pen] has always dealt with in the most select and convenient portion, in addition to the usual reviews and transcripts.”⁹ Later we will see that running a newspaper like Marmota fluminense was crucial for any publisher in the nineteenth century. Indeed, it was worth his while to ensure that it stayed in circulation.

Although he had thought seriously about leaving the printing business, Paula Brito reconsidered that as well. In mid-1857, the publisher began selling printing items in Rio de Janeiro on commission, supplying them to his “printer colleagues in all parts of the Empire.” It was no secret that Francisco de Paula Brito knew Rio’s printing industry better than most. As a result, although the sources are not clear about the success of his commissions, Paula Brito was able could guarantee that his clients received only the best for their workshops.¹⁰ However, as early as February 1858, just before he started dealing in used printing materials,¹¹ the publisher was on the lookout for a property in the city. In an advertisement, he wrote that he needed “[an] inexpensive house [in which to] set up an entirely commercial establishment to serve his large clientele well and soon, doing everything he is qualified to do.” He preferred the area near “Rua do Cano and Rua de S. Pedro, from Rua dos Ourives to [Rua] Direita.”¹² In just a few days, he found a building on Rua do Cano. By mid-March, Paula Brito had set up a new printing, lithography, and bookbinding business at that address.

The size of the new establishment was minuscule compared to the workshops of the now-defunct Dous de Dezembro company. From this perspective, we can understand Paula Brito’s anger when he read a report in Correio mercantil on the travels of the Methodist ministers Kidder and Fletcher in Rio de Janeiro. At one point in their narrative, the Americans declared that “the largest press in Rio de Janeiro belongs to Mr. Paula Brito, who is a man of color.” The reference to his skin color was not a problem, but saying that he owned the Brazilian capital’s largest press after his company had gone bankrupt was an overstatement that had to be contested. After all, a great many creditors were still hot on his heels. Perhaps for that reason, the day the travelers’ report was published, Paula Brito wrote the following letter to the Correio mercantil:

To the Editor—Although the value of the work of Messrs. Fletcher and Kidder is undeniable, I must nevertheless declare that my printing establishment was never, nor is it, the foremost in this capital, as it is said, although it is large and important, and has cost me millions of sacrifices. Above all, I have to struggle with the difficulties with which all those in my condition struggle, as those gentlemen rightly say. The truth above all.

I am, etc.

Francisco de Paula Brito

Santíssimo Sacramento, November 15, 185813

Although in 1856 Empresa Tipográfica Dous de Dezembro had as many as thirteen printing presses, from the most basic to highly sophisticated models, the inventory for Paula Brito’s estate only lists ten presses in 1862—of which two large ones and a small one included all their accessories, while the others were “unmended.”¹⁴ In any case, the reason for moving the press to Rua do Cano was simple—after being closed for months, the bookstore would reopen on Praça da Constituição.¹⁵

Gradually, Paula Brito’s business ventures regained some of their previous vitality. The state of the “good and cheap” bookshop’s furnishings suggests that this was a fresh start marked by difficulties. About four years after the bookshop reopened, Paula Brito’s inventory showed that it contained “old pine shelving,” possibly used to display books and other merchandise, “two very old wooden chairs,” “one long table,” “six stools,” and “one office stool.”¹⁶ However, despite being arranged on old shelves, soon the books, tea, and other goods were within the reach of longstanding customers. Paula Brito must have restored his credit with his suppliers, because his advertisements show that he was selling a wide range of wares, from dolls that shed tears to English soap. In the case of stationery, books, periodicals, and other printed matter, a lengthy catalog listing ninety-three items appeared in Marmota in late April 1858.17 The prints on sale included portraits of the Viscount of Uruguai and the Marquess of Olinda, leading lights of the Conservative party. Music lovers could buy sheet music for Mr. Moura’s Miscelâneas for piano and flute, or the “Bouquet das Brasileiras, a musical album with fourteen pieces for piano and voice.” Religious patrons could purchase the Novena of St. Rita or the Life of St. Prisciliana, while Freemasons would find the Guia para a abertura e encerramento das lojas do Rito Escocês (Guide to the opening and closing of Scottish Rite lodges).¹⁸

The number of plays for sale reached twenty-four titles, especially the works of Martins Pena, which sold for 300 to 1,000 réis. Novels, a total of five titles, were sold for about 2,000 réis per volume. Books of poetry, thirteen titles in all, were priced from 1,000 to 3,000 réis.¹⁹ According to the Dous de Dezembro company’s auction catalog, in addition to the 911 books listed by title, Paula Brito and the auctioneer Castro Bittancourt put over six thousand pieces of sheet music and twenty thousand prints on the block. Going beyond the catalogs, it is almost certain that what was left unsold after the auction returned to the shelves. However, while it was clear to everyone in Rio de Janeiro that Paula Brito was beginning to recover from bankruptcy, the legacy of his debts was considerable. Unless he could rid himself of that burden, he knew he would struggle to thrive. The solution the publisher found was to resort to a very common form of government subsidy at that time: the lotteries.

The Proceedings of the Chamber of Deputies are full of such requests: lotteries whose funds were employed for various purposes. At the May 31, 1858, session, for example, the deputies discussed a request for four lotteries “for the benefit of the works and needs of the parishes of Montes Claros, Contendas, São Romão, Januária, Barra das Rio das Velhas, and Curvelo, in the province of Minas Gerais.” Similarly, the nuns of the Convent of Our Lady of the Conception, in Olinda, asked the chamber for “a lottery held in Rio de Janeiro to repair their convent,” and the Fluminense Library was granted two lotteries to build “a house to store its books.”²⁰ Thus, in mid-May 1858, Paula Brito sent an application to the Chamber of Deputies for five lotteries that were to run for eighteen months. Like other merchants who resorted to this form of financing, Paula Brito also asked the government to advance him the lottery funds to be raised. Although the application does not reveal how much money was involved, Paula Brito made a point of explaining how he planned to invest it. Part of the funds would be used to pay off Dous de Dezembro’s debts. Without the grant, the publisher argued, it would not be possible to “discharge the debts or be rehabilitated in the market within five years.” And five years was a long time, since Paula Brito, in his second point, stated that he intended to transform his business establishments into a kind of printing school for the “Brazilian youth who want to learn” there. He also claimed that, with the lottery money, he could resume his plan to “make his large-scale press useful to literature, authors, and translators.” Finally, he explained that he wanted to travel to Europe, “in order to study in Germany, England, France, and Belgium what might be useful for printing and its accompanying branches, which are all still lagging far behind among us.”21

The fixation with “large-scale” printing persisted, an idea that, as we know, had been brewing in the publisher’s mind at least since the late 1840s. His desire to go to Europe was first documented in the mid-1850s, when he made a failed attempt to create the Dous de Dezembro literary publishing company. Although it would never happen, this time his departure was actually scheduled. Paula Brito informed the deputies that he wanted to embark on the packet steamer in February 1859. Concluding his request, the publisher justified it by recalling his professional career, political affiliation, and patriotism:

Based on the foregoing, and on all that you know of the applicant, allow him to enter into minute considerations which would fully justify the reason for his request; however, you need only remember, most august and honorable gentlemen, how much he has been doing since 1832 as a printer, as a political co-religionist for many of you, and as a hard-working man wholly devoted to the glory and prosperity of the land of his birth.²²

As soon as it reached the Chamber of Deputies, the request was dispatched to the Finance Committee, which was made up of three deputies, Sampaio Vianna, Torres Homem, and Paula Santos. About six weeks later, the committee issued its first opinion, observing the need to consult the Finance Ministry, as it alone could assess the usefulness of the company, the means for getting it off the ground, and the assurances that it would be viable. A few weeks later, as early as mid-July 1858, instead of awarding him the five lotteries, the Ministry granted the publisher a loan, as his establishment was deemed “useful and worthy of protection.”²³ This was not the first time that year that the publisher had been favorably treated by the Finance Ministry. In late January, Paula Brito obtained an important concession that authorized his new establishment to sell copies of all the legislation and other government publications, formerly a monopoly of the National Press.24

Thus, the loan specifications were made public in the Chamber of Deputies session of August 26. When granting it, the Finance Ministry reported on the grant requested by the publisher in 1855, which asked the government to subscribe for four hundred shares in the Dous de Dezembro printing company in order to turn it into a literary publisher. However, in 1855, the loan was not issued in time. Therefore, two years later, the Finance Ministry suggested that the Chamber of Deputies Finance Committee consider the loan as an alternative to lotteries. The committee approved the suggestion:

Art. 1. The government is authorized to issue a loan to Francisco de Paula Brito, up to the amount of 80,000,000 réis for as long as it deems appropriate, and with the conditions that are the least burdensome to the treasury, so that the same Paula Brito can make improvements to his printing establishment.

Art. 2. The government will demand the necessary guarantees for the solution of this loan, and may accept as collateral the establishment of the same Paula Brito, if it is sufficient for that purpose.

Art. 3. Provisions to the contrary are hereby repealed.

Palace of the Chamber of Deputies, 18 August 1858—

F. de Paula Santos—Sampaio Vianna²⁵

It is unclear whether that vast sum of money was at least partially disbursed. Paula Brito’s inventory suggests that it was not, as it included numerous residual debts from Dous de Dezembro, which shows that not all of the company’s former shareholders and creditors had been paid. Moreover, Paula Brito changed his plans and did not travel to Europe in February 1859. Staying on in Rio de Janeiro, he decided to take a chance on a project involving the City Council, an institution that had long been highly profitable for the city’s printers.

Any printing company that was awarded a contract with the City Council stood to benefit on two fronts: first, by supplying the municipal offices with the forms used by the bureaucracy—bills, notices, budgets, and warrants; second, by also producing a daily or periodic gazette on the Council’s sessions and acts. In this regard, the archives contain a number of petitions from Rio de Janeiro’s printers offering and demanding to provide services to the municipal government.26 With an eye on that potential client, in early May 1859, Paula Brito sent the Council a highly advantageous proposal that, in addition to supplying printed materials, envisaged the creation of an exclusive weekly gazette for the publication of the minutes and everything the Council wanted to make public. Paula Brito promised that the gazette would be distributed free of charge to the councilors and employees of City Hall, as well as being sent to the other councils in the province at his own expense. The first issues of this “municipal gazette” would be distributed along with A marmota to attract the attention of potential subscribers. All this would cost the municipal coffers 3,600,000 réis, paid in twelve monthly installments.²⁷

The city councilors considered the proposal advantageous. Two weeks after the document reached the Council, Paula Brito was the “owner-editor” of the Arquivo Municipal, “a gazette especially devoted to the publication of the acts of the . . . Most Illustrious Council.” According to its prospectus, the Arquivo Municipal revived an initiative of Ezequiel Correia dos Santos who, in 1834, printed some issues of the Gazeta Municipal.²⁸ However, as we will see, in two years the publication would become obsolete, ceasing publication for lack of readers. In any case, the creation of the Arquivo Municipal in 1859, along with the loan process the previous year, demonstrates that the solidity of the prestige and political alliances the publisher had forged. However, other ties were equally important in Francisco de Paula Brito’s career. And, of course, the network surrounding the Petalogical Society merits special attention.