NOTORIOUS BRAZILIAN BANDIT

LAMPIÃO – BANDIT

The interior of the Northeastern State of Pernambuco is known as the “Sertão” which means “Desert” because it seldom rains there, so the climate is arid, dry and inhospitable. Vegetation is sparse, and what trees there are, are stunted due to the lack of water.

Villages are scattered all around the Sertão, and are for the most part, isolated communities of people, scratching out a meager living by farming. The soil is rich, and capable of producing a plentiful harvest – providing there is rain. But one thing prevailed throughout the Sertão of the 1920’s and 1930’s – grinding poverty – and fear.

A gang of murderous cutthroats and thieves roamed the Sertão in those days. They were called the “Cangaceiros” and were led by the most ruthless one of them all, a man nicknamed Lampião, which means “Lightening, because of the lightening quick raids he made on towns and villages throughout the region.

His real name was Virgulino Ferreira da Silva. He was born in Pernambuco in 1897.

When he was a young man, his family became involved in the ever-present local feuds, and had somehow run afoul of the law. During a raid on Virgulino’s home, his father was killed. He vowed revenge on the Police and became the scourge of the backlands, killing police and soldiers at random – and anyone else who crossed him. He was brutal and merciless. His atrocities were renowned and he’d kill without mercy, not only the informer who’d turned him in, but his entire family.

One day, Lampião and his gang of Cangaceiros rode into a town where he met the woman who became his companion until their deaths. She was a beautiful woman, with long black hair, big sultry eyes, and a slim, bodacious body. She was known as “Maria Bonita” which means “Beautiful Mary.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and she was equally smitten with him.

Marching up boldly to him, she pointed to a man and said “That is my husband – shoot him.” Lampião drew his pistol and shot the man in cold blood. When the Cangaceiros rode out of town, Maria Bonita rode with them.

Some time later, they had a daughter, but Lampião forced her to give the child away, for obvious reasons, but this embittered her deeply, and she became just as ruthless and merciless as he.

Lampião and his Cangaceiros seemed to lead a charmed life. Although they never numbered more than 40 men, they managed to outshoot, outsmart and outfox the police and militia who set up numerous ambushes against them.

My father had just gone to serve as a missionary in the Sertão. One day at noon, the chief of police came to see him on a matter of great urgency. Dad welcomed the Capitão and invited him to join him in a coffee.

“No time, Senhor Missionario,” the Capitão said. “We have managed to surround one of Lampião’s bandidos on a hill. His name is João Candido (not the man’s real name) and we’ve tried to get him to surrender, but he doesn’t trust us not to shoot him under the flag of truce.”

Dad readily understood João’s refusal to surrender to the Capitão. It was a well known fact that the Police didn’t go to the trouble or observe the niceties of bringing a Cangaceiro to Recife for trial – they disposed of him on the spot, then left his body for the vultures.

The Capitão paused. “Fact is, it’ll soon be nightfall, and we’re afraid he’ll manage to slip through our lines in the dark and make his escape. He’s done it before. The only thing in our favour this time, is that there is a full moon out tonight, so his chances of succeeding are slim, and he knows it.”

“If you’ve surrounded the hill he’s on, why don’t you and your troops storm him and take him by force?”

The Capitão coughed awkwardly. “Well Senhor Missionario, he’s very well armed, and he could pick us off like flies. Although I have no doubt we’d get him in the end, many of us would lose our lives.”

Dad thought to himself, yes, and you’d be one of the first to get mowed down, because you’d have to lead the charge. However, he didn’t voice these thoughts.

“So where do I come into all this?” he asked politely.

The Capitão coughed again. “He said he’ll surrender, but only to you Senhor Missionario. He says he knows of your reputation as being a man of God, and he’d trust you to see to it that he’d be brought to trial, and not … executed on the spot.”

The Capitão gazed out of the window, his face red with embarrassment over having to ask this favour.

“If you would do this, you’d be saving many lives, Senhor Missionario.”

Dad sighed and got up. “Very well, Senhor Capitão, but I have to have your word that you won’t shoot him or myself, as I bring him down the hill.”

The Capitão looked relieved, and smiled. “You have my word.” He held out his hand and they shook on it.

Both Dad and the Capitão mounted their respective horses and galloped at full speed for the hill.

When they got there, Dad dismounted and immediately walked to the bottom of the hill.

“João Candido, I am the English missionary you requested and I am going to come up the hill to take you into custody. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Senhor Missionario,” João shouted. “Just make sure you carry no weapons or I’ll have to shoot you.”

Dad slowly turned a full circle, hands up in the air to clearly show that he carried no concealed weapons. Slowly he walked up the hill, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering if a bullet would mow him down from above.

When he got to the top, he was greeted by a very relieved bandit, who handed over all his weapons, urging Dad to inform the police that he’d done this. “Make sure they can see you are carrying my weapons,” he said anxiously.

Dad shouted down to the Capitão. “João Candido is unarmed. I have all his weapons. Tell your men to hold fire – we are coming down.”

Dad and the bandit, arms raised above his head, slowly and carefully walked down the hill. The atmosphere was tense, and Dad could sense that the least movement on João Candido’s part would earn them both an instant death. But the Capitão kept his word, and not a shot was fired.

Joan Candido was handcuffed and led off to the local jailhouse. Greatly relieved Dad went home for a well deserved supper. He thought the ordeal was over, but it wasn’t.

That night, a small boy came to the house with a message from João Candido.

“João is begging for you to go and see him in jail” Senhor Missionario. “He says it’s a matter of life and death.”

Sighing Dad got up, mounted his horse and rode to the local jailhouse, where he was allowed into João Candido’s cell.

The bandit rushed forward and gripped Dad’s arms. “Senhor Missionario, when you arrested me you promised me a fair trial,” he said. Gulping he continued “Well I heard the Capitão telling his men that tomorrow they will pretend to take me to the railway station, then shoot me down like a dog, claiming I tried to escape.” He snorted “As if I’d do something that stupid, handcuffed with 50 armed men surrounding me. You promised me a fair trial, Senhor Missionario, you promised.”

Dad disengaged João’s clenched hands from his arms and replied “I will do what I can.”

He turned and walked out of the cell, to the cries of “You promised Senhor Missionario, you promised.”

Dad went into the Capitão’s office and was invited to take a seat. “Senhor Capitão, I’m sure you will have realized that one of Lampião’s Cangaceiros has never been brought to trial alive to Recife. It will be the talk of the entire country and will be in all the newspapers throughout Brazil. It will make you a very famous man.”

He paused, allowing what he’d said to sink in. Obviously the prestige of bringing back a live Cangaceiro for trial and all the accolades he’d get for this achievement had not occurred to the good Capitão. Thoughtfully he sat and stroked his luxuriant mustache, pondering on it.

He arrived at a decision. “Yes, of course, you are right, Senhor Missionario,” he said with a smile.

“Well, I promised João Candido safe passage to Recife, so with your permission of course, Senhor Capitão, I will personally escort him to the railway station tomorrow.”

“That will be fine,” the Capitão said “Please be here at the jailhouse tomorrow at 7.00. We’ll be catching the 8.15 train to Recife.”

So next morning, Dad dutifully escorted João Candido to the railway station, and the Capitão took him down to Recife for trial.

It all turned out just as Dad had said it would – the Capitão was heralded from North to South, East to West as the hero who’d brought a thieving murdering bandit to trial. He became famous and a celebrity, taking all the credit for having nailed the Cangaceiro himself, with many embellishments that grew with every telling of the story – Dad’s pivotal involvement was never mentioned.

That night a messenger came to Dad’s door. “I have a message for you Senhor Missionario, from Lampião. He’s very grateful to you for having saved his cousin’s life today and wants you to know that, if you ever want anyone … eliminated … anyone at all … just let him know and he will see to it himself.” Having delivered this macabre message, the man quietly vanished into the night.

Eventually, Lampião and Maria Bonita were both killed by the police during an ambush.

Legend has it that Lampião, Maria Bonita and the Cangaceiros were the Robin Hoods of that era – stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Nothing could be further from the truth – Lampião would steal from anyone who had anything of value; he was a murderer, thief and a thoroughly vicious, merciless, psychopathic thug.

However, inadvertently, Dad became one of his “friends,” although he never, of course, availed himself of Lampião’s offer to … personally eliminate … anyone … absolutely anyone … who crossed Dad in any way, or even so much as pissed him off!

João Candido was tried, convicted and spent the rest of his life in the penal colony on the Island of Fernando de Noronha. The conditions there were so atrocious that it was indeed a fate worse than death – which is precisely what he deserved.

This story is true, and happened exactly as related to me by my father.