In 1864, in the mountains of Minas Gerais, Colonel Augusto Ferreira da Costa did the unthinkable. He created an agreement that allowed seven of his slaves to have intimate relations with his own wife, Dona Esperança.

What began as a desperate attempt to save his lineage ended up destroying one of the most powerful families in the region.

The year was 1864. Brazil was experiencing the last gasps of slavery but on the farms of Minas Gerais, the system still functioned with total brutality. The São Sebastião farm, located 15 kilometres from Ouro Preto, was one of the most prosperous properties in the region.

Its coffee plantations stretched across the mountain slopes, and its gold mines still produced enough to maintain the luxury of the Big House.

Colonel Augusto Ferreira da Costa, at 52 years old, was respected throughout the province. A descendant of the Bandeirantes, he built his fortune through three generations of mineral and agricultural exploration. His property housed more than 200 slaves divided between work in the mines, the coffee fields and the Big House.

Dona Esperança Ferreira da Costa, his wife of 15 years, was considered one of the most beautiful women in the region. At 35, she maintained the elegance and posture required of a lady of the Minas elite. Educated in a convent in Rio de Janeiro, she spoke French fluently and played the piano with mastery. The marriage had been arranged in 1849, uniting two traditional families.

For 15 years, they tried to have children. Dona Esperança became pregnant four times but lost all the babies in the first months. The doctors of the time could not explain the successive losses, attributing them to the woman’s delicate constitution.

For Colonel Augusto, the absence of heirs represented more than a personal tragedy; it meant the end of a dynasty.

Without children, his immense fortune would be disputed by distant relatives after his death. The social pressure was immense. In the patriarchal society of the 19th century, a man without descendants was considered incomplete. It was in December 1863 that everything began to change.

The colonel received a letter from his cousin in Salvador, telling him about unorthodox practices that had resulted in the birth of heirs on other farms. What was written in that letter would plant the seed for the most controversial decision of his life. The letter arrived on a hot December morning, brought by a messenger who had ridden for three days from Salvador.

The colonel’s cousin, Joaquim Ferreira da Silva, was known for his creative solutions to family problems. The correspondence brought a detailed account of how other families of the Bahian elite had resolved inheritance issues.

“My dear cousin Augusto,” the letter said, “I know of your difficulties in generating offspring.

Allow me to share knowledge that may seem controversial but has proven effective in our region. Mr Antônio da Silva Prado, our neighbour, faced a similar situation. His wife, after years of fruitless attempts, managed to give him three robust children through an unconventional method.”

The letter continued describing how some families allowed specific slaves, chosen for their health and physical vigour, to maintain relations with the ladies, always under the supervision and total control of the husbands. The children born from these unions were registered as legitimate, ensuring the continuity of the lineage.

Colonel Augusto read and reread the correspondence for weeks. The idea disturbed him deeply but it also awakened a desperate hope. His Catholic education and the values of the time made the proposal almost unthinkable.

However, the prospect of dying without heirs tormented him more than any moral consideration. During the month of January 1864, the colonel discreetly observed the slaves on his property. He began to notice details that had previously gone unnoticed. Which ones were healthier? Which ones demonstrated greater intelligence? Which ones had physical characteristics that could improve his offspring?

Slavery had created a mentality where human beings were seen as property and instruments. For the colonel, the slaves were not people with rights or feelings; they were tools that could be used to solve his succession problem. Dona Esperança noticed changes in her husband’s behaviour.

He observed her with more intensity, asked strange questions about her menstrual cycle, and showed renewed interest in matters related to procreation. When he finally decided to reveal the contents of the letter, he chose a February night after dinner.

“Esperança,” he said, “we need to talk about our situation.

“I have a proposal that can give us the children we so desire, but it requires your complete cooperation and discretion.”

Dona Esperança’s initial reaction was one of shock and revulsion. The idea of maintaining intimate relations with slaves contradicted everything she had learned about morality and social standing. She argued, cried, and begged her husband to reconsider. But the colonel had made his decision.

He presented the proposal not as a request, but as a determination. In the patriarchal society of the time, women had little power of decision over their own lives.

The husband’s authority was absolute, especially in matters considered family-related. February 1864 marked the beginning of the most bizarre process in the history of the São Sebastião farm.

• A Tell Media report / Source: The Global Times