Janeiro, that
escaped attack by hostile fleets, eager for spoil, during the seventeenth
century, and early in the eighteenth Rio itself was made the victim of
assault. A city of over twelve thousand people, and the gateway to a rich
gold-mining country in the rear, its wealth invited a visit from the
prize-seekers, though the strength of its population and garrison long
kept these away. Its turn for assault came in 1710.

In that year a squadron appeared in the waters outside the harbor on which
the people looked with doubt. It flew the French flag, and that standard
had not been a welcome visitor in the past. In fact, it was commanded by a
daring Frenchman named Duclerc, who was on the seas for spoil. But a look
at the strong defences of the harbor entrance, and some exchange of shots,
warned him of the perils that would attend an attempt to pass them by
force, and he sailed on to a point some forty miles down the coast, where
he landed a party of a thousand marines.

His design to attack the city with this small party seemed folly. The
governor, Francisco de Castro, had a force of eight thousand Portuguese
troops, besides five thousand armed negroes and several hundred Indian
bowmen. But he lacked the heart of a soldier, and Duclerc's marines
marched like so many buccaneers through the forest for seven days without
meeting a foeman. Even when near the city the only enemies in sight were a
handful of men led by a friar, who attacked them boldly in defence of his
church. After capturing this, the daring French charged into the city in
the face of the fire from the forts on the surrounding hills, to which the
governor's troops had been withdrawn.

The very boldness of the assault, and the failure of the governor to guard
the streets with troops, nearly led to success. Little resistance was made
by the few soldiers in the city, and the French traversed the narrow
streets until the central square was reached. Here they met their first
check from a party of fifty students, who had entered the palace of the
governor and fired upon them from the windows. The first French assailants
who forced their way in were taken prisoners and tied to the furniture. In
the custom-house adjoining was the magazine. Here, as the storekeeper was
hastily giving out ammunition, a fellow with a lighted match approached
and carelessly set fire to the powder. In a moment the building was blown
into the air, and the palace, which the French were s