Chapter 18

Pará, 23 Février, 1866.

Sire:—En arrivant à Pará, au commencement de ce mois j’ai eu le bonheur d’y trouver l’excellente lettre de Votre Majesté, qui m’attendait depuis quelques jours. J’aurais dû y répondre immédiatement; mais je n’étais pas en état de le faire, tant j’étais accablé de fatigue. Il y a trois ou quatre jours seulement que je commence de nouveau à m’occuper de mes affaires. J’avouerai même que le pressentiment des regrets qui m’auraient poursuivi le reste de mes jours m’a seul empêché de retourner directement aux Etats-Unis. Aujourd’hui encore j’ai de la peine à vaquer aux occupations les plus simples. Et cependant je ne suis pas malade; je suis seulement épuisé par un travail incessant et par la contemplation tous les jours plus vive et plus impressive des grandeurs et des beautés de cette nature tropicale. J’aurais besoin pour quelque temps de la vue monotone et sombre d’une forêt de sapins.

Que vous êtes bon, Sire, de penser à moi au milieu des affaires vitales qui absorbent votre attention et combien vos procédés sont pleins de délicatesse. Le cadeau de nouvel-an que vous m’annoncez m’enchante. La perspectivede pouvoir ajouter quelques comparaisons des poissons du bassin de l’Uruguay à celles que j’ai déjà faites des espèces de l’Amazone et des fleuves de la côte orientale du Brésil a un attrait tout particulier. Ce sera le premier pas vers la connaissance des types de la zône tempérée dans l’Amérique du Sud. Aussi est-ce avec une impatience croissante que je vois venir le moment où je pourrai les examiner. En attendant, permettez-moi de vous donner un aperçu rapide des résultats obtenus jusqu’à ce jour dans le voyage de l’Amazone.

Je ne reviendrai pas sur ce qu’il y a de surprenant dans la grande variété des espèces de poissons de ce bassin, bien qu’il me soit encore difficile de me familiariser avec l’idée que l’Amazone nourrit à peu-près deux fois plus d’espèces que la Méditerrannée et un nombre plus considérable que l’Océan Atlantique d’un pôle à l’autre. Je ne puis cependant plus dire avec la même précision quel est le nombre exact d’espèces de l’Amazone que nous nous sommes procurées, parceque depuis que je reviens sur mes pas, en descendant le grand fleuve, je vois des poissons prêts à frayer que j’avais vus dans d’autres circonstances et vice versâ, et sans avoir recours aux collections que j’ai faites il y a six mois et qui ne me sont pas accessibles aujourd’hui, il m’est souvent impossible de déterminer de mémoire si ce sont les mêmes espèces ou d’autres qui m’avaient échappé lors de mon premier examen. J’estime cependant que le nombre total des espèces que je possède actuellement dépasse dix-huit cents et atteint peut-être à deux mille. Mais ce n’est pas seulement le nombre des espèces qui surprendra les naturalistes; le fait qu’elles sont pour la plupart circonscrites dans des limites restreintes est bien plus surprenant encore et ne laisserapas que d’avoir une influence directe sur les idées qui se répandent de nos jours sur l’origine des êtres vivants. Que dans un fleuve comme le Mississippi, qui, du Nord au Sud, passe successivement par les zones froide, tempérée et chaude, qui roule ses eaux tantôt sur une formation géologique, tantôt sur une autre, et traverse des plaines couvertes au Nord d’une végétation presque arctique et au Sud d’une flore subtropicale,—que dans un pareil bassin on rencontre des espèces d’animaux aquatiques différentes, sur différents points de son trajet, ça se comprend dès qu’on s’est habitué à envisager les conditions générales d’existence et le climat en particulier comme la cause première de la diversité que les animaux et les plantes offrent entre eux, dans les différentes localités; mais que, de Tabatinga au Pará, dans un fleuve où les eaux ne varient ni par leur température, ni par la nature de leur lit, ni par la végétation qui les borde, que dans de pareilles circonstances on rencontre, de distance en distance, des assemblages de poissons complètement distincts les uns des autres, c’est ce qui a lieu d’étonner. Je dirai même que dorénavant cette distribution, qui peut être vérifiée par quiconque voudra s’en donner la peine, doit jeter beaucoup de doute sur l’opinion qui attribue la diversité des êtres vivants aux influences locales.

Un autre côté de ce sujet, encore plus curieux peut-être, est l’intensité avec laquelle la vie s’est manifestée dans ces eaux. Tous les fleuves de l’Europe réunis, depuis le Tage jusqu’au Volga, ne nourissent pas cent cinquante espèces de poissons d’eau douce; et cependant, dans un petit lac des environs de Manaos, nommé Lago Hyanuary, qui a à peine quatre ou cinq-cents mètres carrés de surface, nous avons découvert plus de deux-cents espèces distinctes,dont la plupart n’ont pas encore été observées ailleurs. Quel contraste!

L’étude du mélange des races humaines qui se croisent dans ces régions m’a aussi beaucoup occupé et je me suis procuré de nombreuses photographies de tous les types que j’ai pu observer. Le principal résultat auquel je suis arrivé est que les races se comportent les unes vis-à-vis des autres comme des espèces distinctes; c. à. d. que les hybrides qui naissent du croisement d’hommes de race différente sont toujours un mélange des deux types primitifs et jamais la simple reproduction des caractères de l’un ou de l’autre des progéniteurs, comme c’est le cas pour les races d’animaux domestiques.

Je ne dirai rien de mes autres collections qui ont pour la plupart été faites par mes jeunes compagnons de voyage, plutôt en vue d’enrichir notre musée que de résoudre quelques questions scientifiques. Mais je ne saurais laisser passer cette occasion sans exprimer ma vive reconnaissance pour toutes les facilités que j’ai dues à la bienveillance de Votre Majesté, dans mes explorations. Depuis le Président jusqu’au plus humbles employés des provinces que j’ai parcourues, tous ont rivalisé d’empressement pour me faciliter mon travail et la Compagnie des vapeurs de l’Amazone a été d’une libéralité extrême à mon égard. Enfin, Sire, la générosité avec laquelle vous avez fait mettre un navire de guerre à ma disposition m’a permis de faire des collections qui seraient restées inaccessibles pour moi, sans un moyen de transport aussi vaste et aussi rapide. Permettez-moi d’ajouter que de toutes les faveurs dont Votre Majesté m’a comblé pour ce voyage, la plus précieuse a été la présence du Major Coutinho, dont la familiarité avec tout ce qui regarde l’Amazone a été une source intarissable de renseignementsimportants et de directions utiles pour éviter des courses oiseuses et la perte d’un temps précieux. L’étendue des connaissances de Coutinho, en ce qui touche l’Amazone, est vraiment encyclopédique, et je crois que ce serait un grand service à rendre à la science que de lui fournir l’occasion de rédiger et de publier tout ce qu’il a observé pendant ses visites répétées et prolongées dans cette partie de l’Empire. Sa coopération pendant ce dernier voyage a été des plus laborieuses; il s’est mis à la zoologie comme si les sciences physiques n’avaient pas été l’objet spécial de ses études, en même temps qu’il a fait par devers lui de nombreuses observations thermométriques, barométriques, et astronomiques, qui ajouteront de bons jalons à ce que l’on possède déjà sur la météorologie et la topographie de ces provinces. C’est ainsi que nous avons les premiers porté le baromètre au milieu des collines d’Almeyrim, de Monte Alégre, et d’Ereré et mesuré leurs sommets les plus élevés.

L’étude de la formation de la vallée de l’Amazone m’a naturellement occupé, bien que secondairement, dès le premier jour que je l’ai abordée.

Mais il est temps que je finisse cette longue épître en demandant pardon à Votre Majesté d’avoir mis sa patience à une aussi rude épreuve.

De Votre Majesté le serviteur le plus dévoué et le plus affectueux,

L. Agassiz.[91]

February 24th.—Pará, Nazareth. Our time has passed so quietly here that it gives me nothing to record. Mr. Agassiz has found himself in such absolute need of rest, after having arranged and put in order for transportation tothe United States the collections accumulated, that our intended trip to the island of Marajo has been postponed day after day. Yesterday I witnessed a religious procession inPará,—one of the many festas said to be gradually dying out, and to be already shorn of much of their ancient glory. It represented a scene from the passion of Christ. Thelife-size figure of the Saviour, sinking under the cross, is borne on a platform through the streets. Little girls, dressed as angels, walk before it, and it is accompanied by numerous dignitaries of the Church. Altars are illuminated in the different churches; the populace, even down to the children, are dressed in black; and the balconies of every house filled with figures in mourning, waiting for the sad procession to pass by.

February 28th.—Off Marajo, in the steamer Tabatinga. All great rivers, as the Nile, the Mississippi, the Ganges, the Danube, have their deltas; but the largest river in the world, the Amazons, is an exception to this rule. What, then, is the geological character of the great island which obstructs its opening into the ocean? This is the question which has made a visit to Marajo of special interest to Mr. Agassiz. Leaving Pará at midnight, we reached the little town of Sourés early this morning. It is a village lying on the southeastern side of the island, and so far seaward that, in the dry season, when the diminished current of the Amazonian waters is overborne by the tides, the water is salt enough to afford excellent sea-bathing, and is resorted to for that purpose by many families from Pará. At this moment, however, the water has not even a brackish character. The only building of any interest in the town is the old Jesuit church, a remnant of the earliest chapter in the civilization of South America. However tinged with ambition and a love of temporal power, the work of the Jesuits in Brazil tended toward the establishment of an organized system of labor, which one cannot but wish had been continued. All that remains of the Jesuit missions goes to prove that they were centres of industry. These men contrived to impart, even to the wandering Indian, some faint reflection of theirown persistency and steadfastness of purpose. Farms were connected with all the Indian missions; under the direction of the fathers, the Indians learned something of agriculture, which the Jesuits readily saw to be one of the great civilizing influences in a country so fertile. They introduced a variety of vegetables and grains, and had herds of cattle where cattle now are hardly known. Humboldt, speaking of the destruction of the Jesuit missions, says, in reference to the Indians of Atures, on the Orinoco: “Formerly, being excited to labor by the Jesuits, they did not want for food. The fathers cultivated maize, French beans, and other European vegetables. They even planted sweet oranges and tamarinds round the villages; and they possessed twenty or thirty thousand head of cows and horses in the savannas of Atures and Carichana.... Since the year 1795, the cattle of the Jesuits have entirely disappeared. There now remain as monuments of the ancient cultivation of these countries, and the active industry of the first missionaries, only a few trunks of the orange and tamarind in the savannas, surrounded by wild trees.”[92]

Our walk through the little village of Sourés brought us to the low cliffs on the shore, which we had already seen from the steamer. The same formations prevail all along the coast of this island that we have found everywhere on the banks of the Amazons. Lowest, a well-stratified, rather coarse sandstone, immediately above which, and conformable with it, are finely laminated clays, covered by a crust. Upon this lies the highly ferruginous sandstone, in which an irregular cross stratification frequently alternates with the regular beds; above this, following all the undulationsof its surface, is the well-known reddish sandy clay, with quartz pebbles scattered through its mass, and only here and there faint traces of an indistinct stratification. This afternoon Mr. Agassiz has been again on shore, examining the formation of both banks of the Igarapé Grande, the river at the mouth of which stands the town of Sourés. He has returned delighted with the result of his day’s work, having not only obtained the most complete evidence that the geological formation of Marajo corresponds exactly with that of the Amazonian Valley, but having also obtained some very important data with respect to the present encroachments of the sea upon the shore. He found upon the beach, partially covered by sea-sand, the remains of a forest which evidently grew in a peat-bog, and which the ocean is gradually laying bare.

February 29th.—Early this morning we crossed the Pará River, and anchored at the entrance of the bay within which stands the town of Vigia. We landed, and while the boatmen were dragging the net, we wandered along the beach, which is bordered by thick forest, now full of flowers. Here we found the same geological formations as on the Marajo shore, and on the beach the counterpart of the ancient forest which Mr. Agassiz unearthed yesterday on the opposite coast. There can hardly be more convincing evidence that the rivers which empty into the Amazons near its mouth, like all those higher up, as well as the main stream itself, have cut their way through identical formations, which were once continuous. Evidently these remains of forests on the beaches of Vigia Bay and at the mouth of the Igarapé Grande are parts of one forest, formerly uninterrupted and covering the whole of the intervening space now filled by the so-called Pará River. We followed the beach to theentrance of an igarapé, which here opens into the river, and which looked most tempting with the morning shadows darkening its cool recesses. As the boatmen had not been very successful in fishing, I proposed we should put their services to better use and row up this inviting stream. To this day, though I have become accustomed to these forest water-paths and have had so many excursions in them, they have lost none of their charm. I never see one without longing to follow its picturesque windings into the depths of the wood; and to me the igarapé remains the most beautiful and the most characteristic feature of the Amazonian scenery. This one of Vigia was especially pretty. Clumps of the light, exquisitely graceful Assai palm shot up everywhere from the denser forest; here and there the drooping bamboo, never seen in the higher Amazons, dipped its feathery branches into the water, covered sometimes to their very tips with purple bloom of convolvulus; yellow Bignonias carried their golden clusters to the very summits of some of the more lofty trees; while white-flowering myrtles and orange-colored mallows bordered the stream. Life abounded in this quiet retreat. Birds and butterflies were numerous; and we saw an immense number of crabs of every variety of color and size upon the margin of the water. However, it was not so easy to catch them as it seemed. They would sit quietly on the trunks of all the old trees or decaying logs projecting from the bank, apparently waiting to be taken; but the moment we approached them, however cautiously, they vanished like lightning either under the water or into some crevice near by. Notwithstanding their nimbleness, however, Mr. Agassiz succeeded in making a considerable collection. We saw also an immense army of caterpillars, evidently followingsome concerted plan of action. They were descending the trunk of a large tree in a solid phalanx about two handbreadths in width, and six or eight feet in length; no doubt coming down to make their chrysalids in the sand. We returned to the steamer at ten o’clock; and, after breakfast, finding our anchorage-ground somewhat rough as the tide came in, we went a little higher up, and entered the Bahia do Sul. Here again we went on shore to see the net drawn, this time more successfully. We should have had a delightful walk on the beach again, had it not been for hosts of minute flies which hovered about us, and had a power of stinging quite disproportionate to their size. On returning we met with an unforeseen difficulty. The tide had been falling during our walk, and the canoe could not approach the beach within several yards. The gentlemen plunged in, and walked out over knees in water; while the boatmen made a chair of their arms and carried me through the surf.

March 5th.—Our excursion in the harbor closed with a visit to the small island of Tatuatuba, distant about six miles from Pará. In order to examine the shores, we made the circuit of the island on foot. Here again the same geological structure presented itself; and there was one spot in particular where the sharp, vertical cut of the bank facing the beach presented an admirable section of the formations so characteristic of the Amazonian Valley; the red, sandy clay of the upper deposit filling in all the undulations and inequalities of the sandstone below, the surface of which was remarkably irregular. The sea is making great encroachments on the shore of this island. Senhor Figueiredo, who lives here with his family and by whom we were received with much hospitality, told us thatduring the last eighteen or twenty years, the beach had receded considerably in some places; the high-water line being many yards beyond its former limit. The result of this excursion has shown that, with the exception of some low mud-islands nearly level with the water, all the harbor islands lying in the mouth of the Amazons are, geologically speaking, parts of the Amazonian Valley, having the same structure. They were, no doubt, formerly continuous with the shore, but are separated now, partly by the fresh waters cutting their way through the land to the ocean, partly by the progress of the sea itself.

March 24th.—Our quiet life at Nazareth, though full of enjoyment for tired travellers, affords little material for a journal. A second excursion along the coast has furnished Mr. Agassiz with new evidence of the rapid changes in the outline of the shore, produced by the encroachment of the sea. So fast is this going on that some of the public works near the coast are already endangered by the advance of the ocean upon the land. During the past week he has been especially occupied in directing the work of a photographist employed by Senhor Pimenta Bueno, who, with his usual liberality towards the scientific objects of the expedition, is collecting in this way the portraits of some remarkable palms and other trees about his house and grounds. One of the most striking is a huge Sumauméra, with buttressed trunk. These buttresses start at a distance of about eight or ten feet from the ground, spreading gradually toward the base; they are from ten to twelve feet in depth. The lower part of the trunk is thus divided into open compartments, sometimes so large that two or three persons can stand within them. This disposition to throw out flanks or wings is not confined to one kind of tree, but occurs inmany families; it seems, indeed, a characteristic feature of forest vegetation here. Occasionally the buttresses partially separate from the main trunk, remaining attached to it only at the point from which they start, so that they look like distinct supports propping the tree. I copy here an extract from Mr. Agassiz’s notes upon the vegetation of the Amazons, in which allusion is made to the Sumauméra.

Buttressed Tree (Eriodendrum Sumauma).

“Any one coming from the North to the Tropics, if he has been in the habit of observing the vegetation abouthim, even without having made botany a special study, is, in a measure, prepared to appreciate the resemblances and the differences between plants of the tropical and those of the temperate regions. An acquaintance with the Robinia (Locust-trees), for instance, or with the large shrub-like Lotus, and other woody Leguminosæ, will enable him to recognize the numerous representatives of that family, forming so large a part of the equatorial vegetation; and, even should he never have seen specimens of the Mimosa in gardens or hot-houses, their delicate, susceptible foliage will make them known to him; he cannot fail to be struck with the inexhaustible combinations and forms of their pinnate leaves, as well as with the variety in their tints of green, the diversity in their clusters of leaves and in their pods and seeds. But there are families with which he fancies himself equally familiar, the tropical representatives of which will never seem to him like old acquaintances. Thus the tree which furnishes the Indian rubber belongs to the Milk-weed family. Every one knows the Milk-weeds of the North, to be seen, as humble herbs, all along the roadsides, on the edges of our woods and in the sands of our beaches. Yet on the Amazons, the Euphorbiaceæ, so small and unobtrusive with us, assume the form of colossal trees, constituting a considerable part of its strange and luxuriant forest-growth. The giant of the Amazonian woods, whose majestic flat crown towers over all other trees, while its white trunk stands out in striking relief from the surrounding mass of green (the Sumauméra), is allied to our mallows. Some of the most characteristic trees of the river-shore belong to these two families. Our paleontologists who attempt to restore the forests of older geological timesshould keep in mind this fact of the striking contrasts presented under different latitudes by the same families. Of course the equatorial regions teem with plants and trees belonging to families either entirely unknown or but poorly represented in more temperate latitudes; and these distinct groups naturally arrest the attention of the botanist, and perhaps awaken his interest more than those with which he is already familiar under other forms. But, while these different families are recognized as distinct, and no doubt deserve to be considered by themselves as natural groups, I believe that much might be learned of the deeper relations of plants by studying, not only the representatives of the same families in different latitudes, such as the Mimosas and the Milk-weeds, but also what I may call botanical equivalents,—groups which balance each other in the different climatic zones. This idea is suggested to me by my zoölogical studies in the Amazons, which have led me to perceive new relations between the animals of the temperate and the tropical zone: it seems probable that corresponding relations should exist in the vegetable world also. Struck, for instance, by the total absence of sturgeons, perches, pickerels, trouts, carps and other white fishes, cusks, sculpins, &c., I have asked myself, while studying the fishes of the Amazons, what analogy could exist between those of our Western rivers and those of the tropics, as well as between the latter and those of the intermediate latitudes. Looking at them with this view, I have been surprised to find how closely related the Goniodonts are to the Sturgeons; so much so, that the Loricariæ may be considered as genuine Sturgeons, with more extensive shields upon the body. I am satisfied also that the Cychla is a perch to all intentsand purposes, that the Acaras are Sunfishes, the Xiphorhamphus (Pirà pucu) Pickerels, and the Curimatas genuine Carps. Now, may not a similar relation exist between the families of plants belonging to the North and those forming the most prominent vegetation of the South? What are the tropical trees which take the place of our elms, maples, lindens? By what families are our oaks, chestnuts, willows, poplars, represented under the burning sun of the equinoctial regions? The Rosaceæ in the temperate and the Myrtaceæ in the tropical regions seem to me such botanical equivalents. The family of Rosaceæ gives to the North its pears, its apples, its peaches, its cherries, its plums, its almonds; in short, all the most delicious fruits of the Old World, as well as its most beautiful flowers. The trees of this family, by their foliage, play a distinguished part in the vegetation of the temperate zone, and impart to it a character of their own. The Myrtaceæ give to the South its guavas, its pitangas, itsaraçàs, the juicy plum-like fruit of the swamp-myrtles, many of its nuts, and other excellent fruits. This family, including the Melastomaceæ, abounds in flowering shrubs, like the purple Queresma and many others not less beautiful; and some of its representatives, such as the Sapucaia and the Brazilian nut-tree, rise to the height of towering trees. Both of these families sink to insignificance in the one zone, while they assume a dignified port and perform an important part in the other. If this investigation be extended to the shrubs and humbler plants, I believe the botanist who undertakes it will reap a rich harvest.”

The day after to-morrow we leave Pará in the Santa Cruz for Ceará. It will be like leaving a sort of home to say good by to our kind friends in the Rua de Nazareth. We havebecome attached to this neighborhood also from its beauty. The wide street, bordered for two or three miles with mangueiras, leads into the wooded country, where many a narrow green path in the forest tempts one to long rambles. One of these paths has been a favorite walk of mine on account of the beauty and luxuriance of the vegetation, making some parts of it shady even at noonday. I have often followed it for two or three miles in the early morning, between six and eight o’clock, when the verdant walls on either side are still fresh and dewy. Beautiful as it is, it leads to one of the saddest of all abodes. For a long time I could not understand why this lane was always in such good condition, the heavy rains making unfrequented forest-paths almost impassable in the wet season. I found on inquiry that it led to a hospital for lepers, and was kept in good repair because the various stores and supplies for the hospital were constantly carried over it. The prevalence of leprosy has made it necessary to provide separate establishments for its victims; and both at Pará and Santarem, where it is still more common, there are hospitals devoted exclusively to this purpose. This terrible disease is not confined wholly to the lower classes, and where it occurs in families whose circumstances are good the invalid is often kept at home under the care of his own friends. Bates states that leprosy is supposed to be incurable, and also adds that, during his eleven years’ residence on the Amazons, he has never known a foreigner to be attacked by it. We have, however, been told by a very intelligent German physician in Rio de Janeiro, that he has known several cases of it among his own countrymen there, and has been so fortunate as to effect permanent cures in some instances. He says it is a mistake to suppose that it does not yield to treatment whentaken in time, and the statistics of the disease show that, where there are good physicians, it is found to be gradually disappearing.

We must not leave Pará without alluding to our evening concerts from the adjoining woods and swamps. When I first heard this strange confusion of sounds, I thought it came from a crowd of men shouting loudly, though at a little distance. To my surprise, I found that the rioters were the frogs and toads in the neighborhood. I hardly know how to describe this Babel of woodland noises; and if I could do it justice, I am afraid my account would hardly be believed. At moments it seems like the barking of dogs, then like the calling of many voices on different keys, but all loud, rapid, excited, full of emphasis and variety. I think these frogs, like ours, must be silent at certain seasons of the year; for, on our first visit to Pará, we were not struck by this singular music, with which the woods now resound at nightfall.

Note.—Before leaving the Amazons, I wish to acknowledge attentions received from several friends, whose names do not appear in the narrative.

To Senhor Danin, Chef de Police at Pará, I was indebted for valuable Indian curiosities, and for specimens of other kinds; to Doctor Malcher for a collection of birds; to Senhor Penna for important additions to my collection of fishes; to Senhor Laitaō da Cunha for aid in collecting, and for many introductions to persons of influence along our route; and to Mr. Kaulfuss, a German resident at Pará, for fossils from the Andes.

I have to thank Mr. James Bond, United States Consul at Pará, for unwearied efforts in my behalf during the whole time of my stay in the Amazons. He supplied me with alcohol; received the collections on their arrival at Pará; examined the cases and barrels, causing those which were defective to be repaired, that they might reach their destination in safety, and finally despatched them to the United States, free of charge, on board sailing-vessels in which he had an interest. We owe it in great degree to him that our immense Amazonian collections arrived in Cambridge in good condition, suffering little loss or injury in the process of transportation.—L. A.

But it is time that I should close this long letter, begging your Majesty to pardon me for putting your patience to so hard a trial.

Your Majesty’s most humble and most affectionate servant,L. Agassiz.

Your Majesty’s most humble and most affectionate servant,

L. Agassiz.

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