City of Pará.—The Equatorial Line.—Spanish History.—The King of Waters.—Private Gardens.—Domestic Life in Northern Brazil.—Delicious Pineapples.—Family Pets.—Opera House.—Mendicants.—A Grand Avenue.—Botanical Garden.—India-Rubber Tree.—Gathering the Raw Material.—Monkeys.—The Royal Palm.—Splendor of Equatorial Nights.
Pará is the most northerly city of Brazil. It also bears the name of Belem on some maps, and is the capital of a province of the first designation. The full official title of the place is, in the usual style of Portuguese and Spanish hyperbole, Santa Maria do Belem do Grão Pará, which has fortunately and naturally simplified itself to Pará. It was founded in 1615, and the province of which it is the capital was the last in Brazil to declare its independence of the mother country, and to acknowledge the authority of the first emperor, Dom Pedro. It is the largest political division of the republic, and in some respects the most thriving. The city is situated about ninety miles south of the equator, and eighty miles from the Atlantic Ocean on the Pará River, so called, but which is really one of the mouths of the Amazon. It is thus the principal city at the mouth of the largest river in the world, a fact quite sufficient to indicate its present, and to insure its continued commercial importance.
As we entered the muddy estuary of the river, whose wide expanse was lashed into short, angry waves by a strong wind, large tree trunks were seen floating seaward, rising and sinking on the undulating surface of the water. Some were quite entire, with all of their branches still attached to the main trunk. They came, perhaps, from two thousand miles inland, borne upon the swift current from where it had undermined the roots in their forest home. Among the rest was a cocoa-palm with its full tufted head, some large brown nuts still hanging tenaciously to the parent stem. It had fallen bodily, while in its prime and full bearing, suddenly unearthed by some swift deviation of the river, which brooks no trifling impediment to its triumphal march seaward. How long, one would be glad to know, has this vast stream, fed by the melted snow of the Andes, poured its accumulated waters into the bosom of the ocean? A thousand years is but as a day, in reckoning the age of a mountain range or of a mammoth river.
As we approached the city, the channel became gradually narrowed by several prominent islands, crowded with rich green vegetation, forest trees of various sorts, mangoes, bananas, and regal palms. Though it is thus broken by islands, the river is here over twenty miles in width.
Pará is yielded precedence over the other cities on the east coast of South America in many respects, and is appreciatively called "Queen of the Amazon," her water communication reaching into the very heart of some of the most fertile valleys on the continent. One incorporated company has established a score of well-appointed steamers, averaging five hundred tons each, which navigate the river for a distance of two thousand miles from its mouth. Pará has an excellent harbor, of large capacity, accommodating an extensive commerce, a considerable portion of which is with the United States of North America. It has a mixed population of about fifty thousand, composed of an amalgamation of Portuguese, Italians, Indians, and negroes, and is the only town of any importance, except Quito, situated so near to the equatorial line, where the interested observer has the privilege of beholding the starry constellations of both hemispheres. Ships of five thousand tons measurement can lie within a hundred yards of the wharves of Pará, where the accumulation of coffee, dyewoods, drugs, tobacco, cotton, cocoa, rice, sugar, and raw india-rubber, indicates the character of the principal exports. Of all these staples, the last named is the most important, in a commercial point of view, occupying the third place on the list of national exports. As we have shown, the import and export trade of the Amazon valley naturally centres here, and Pará need fear no commercial rival.
For a considerable period this unequaled water-way, forming the spacious port, and conveying the drainage of nearly half of South America into the Atlantic, bore the name of its discoverer, Orellana, one of Pizarro's captains; but the fabulous story of a priest called Friar Gaspar, self-constituted chronicler of the expedition, gave to it the designation which it now bears. All the Spanish records of the history and conquests in the New World, relating to the doings of Columbus, Cortez, Pizarro, and others, without an exception, were written in the same spirit of exaggeration and untruthfulness, leading that pious witness and contemporary writer, Las Casas, to pronounce them, with honest indignation, to be a tissue of falsehoods. Even our own popular historian, Prescott, who drew so largely upon these sources for his poetical productions, was forced to admit their manifest incongruities, contradictions, and general irresponsibility. This Munchausen of a priest, Friar Gaspar, recorded that a tribe of Amazons, or fighting women, was encountered far inland, on the banks of the mighty river, who were tall in stature, symmetrical in form, and had a profusion of long hair, which hung in braids down their backs. They were represented to be as warlike as they were beautiful, and as carrying shields and spears, the latter of which they could use with great skill and effect. It was this foolish story of the Amazons, hatched in the prolific brain of Friar Gaspar, which gave the river its lasting name.
The Indian designation of the mammoth watercourse was significant and appropriate, as their names always are. They called itParana-tinga, meaning "King of Waters," and it seems to us a great pity that the name could not have been retained.
Pará has the advantage of being much nearer to the United States and to Europe than Rio Janeiro, the capital of Brazil. Though the commerce of Rio is constantly increasing, in spite of its miserable sanitary condition, it is confidently believed by intelligent persons engaged in the South American trade, that Pará will equal it erelong in the aggregate of its shipments. All freight is now landed by means of lighters, a process which is an awkward drawback upon commerce, and what makes it still more aggravating is that it seems to be an entirely needless one. Certainly a good, substantial, capacious pier might be easily built, which would obviate this objection, accommodating a dozen large vessels at the same time. The Brazilians are slow to adopt any modern improvement. Portuguese and Spaniards are very much alike in this respect. Wharves will be built at Pará by and by, after a few more millions have been wasted upon the inconvenient process now in vogue, which involves not only needless expense, but causes most awkward and unreasonable delay, both in landing merchandise and in shipping freight for export. This serious objection applies to all the ports along the east coast of South America. There is always some private interest which exerts itself to prevent any progressive movement, and it is this which retards improved facilities for unloading and shipping of cargoes at Pará. In this instance the owners of the steam tugs which tow the flat-bottomed lighters from ship to shore, and vice versa, oppose the building of piers, because, if they were in existence, these individuals would find their profitable occupation gone. If proper wharf facilities were to be furnished, commerce generally would be much benefited, though a few persons would suffer some pecuniary loss. As we have said, the wharves will come by and by, when the people realize that private interest must be subservient to the public good.
The city of Pará is situated upon slightly elevated ground, and makes a fine appearance from the river, with its lofty cathedral, numerous churches, convents, custom house, and arsenal standing forth in bold relief against an intensely blue sky, while fronting the harbor, like a line of sentinels, is a row of tall, majestic palms, harmonizing admirably with the local surroundings, though in the very midst of a busy commercial centre. The buildings are painted yellow, blue, or pink, the façades contrasting strongly with the dark red of the heavily tiled roofs, which, having no chimneys, present an odd appearance to a northern eye. Here and there a mass of greenery indicates some domestic garden, or a plaza presided over by tall groups of trees, among which the thick, umbrageous mangoes prevail. The Rua da Imperatriz is the principal wholesale street of the city, where the large warehouses are to be found, but the Rua dos Mercadores is the fashionable shopping street, through which the tramway also passes. The shops are rather small, but have a fair stock of goods offered at reasonable rates, though strangers are apt to be victimized by considerably higher prices than a native would pay.
This, however, is not unusual in all foreign countries, so far as our experience goes. North Americans are looked upon as possessing unlimited pecuniary means, and as lavish in their expenditures, prices being gauged accordingly. This is a universal practice in Europe, and especially so in Germany.
The climate is very moist, and it has been facetiously remarked that it rains here eight days in the week. One cannot speak approvingly of the sanitary condition of a place where turkey buzzards are depended upon to remove the garbage which accumulates in the thoroughfares. It is unaccountable that the citizens should submit to such filthy surroundings, especially in a locality where malarial fever is acknowledged to prevail in the summer season. Though at this writing it is the latter part of May, yellow fever is still rife here, and we hear of many particularly sad cases, ending fatally, all about us. This destroyer is especially apt to carry off people who have newly arrived in the country. The present year has been unusually fatal among the residents of Pará, as regards yellow fever, which seems to linger longer and longer each year of its visitation. Our own conviction is that the people have themselves to thank for this lingering of the pest into the winter months, since the sanitary conditions of the place are inexcusably defective.
Gardens in and about the city quickly catch and delight the eye,—gardens where flowers and fruits grow in great luxuriance. Among the latter are oranges, mangoes, guavas, figs, and bananas. The glossy green fronds of the bananas throw other verdure altogether into the shade, while in dignity and beauty the cocoanut palms excel all other trees. The tall, straight stem of the palm rises from the roots without leaf or branch until the plumed head is reached, which bends slightly under its wealth of pinnated leaves and fruit combined. If you happen to pass these gardens after nightfall, especially those in the immediate environs of the city, mark the phosphorescent clouds of dancing lights which fill the still atmosphere round about the vegetation. This peculiar effect is produced by the busy cucuios, or tropical fireflies, each vigorously flashing its individual torch. Do they shine thus in the daytime, we are led to wonder, like the constellations in the heavens, though hidden by the greater light of the sun? They are always demonstrative in the night, be it never so cloudy, foggy, or damp in the low latitudes. They keep their sparkling revels, their torchlight dances, all heedless of the grim and deadly fever which lurks in the surrounding atmosphere, claiming human victims right and left, among high and low, from the ranks of age and of youth. Insect life is redundant here. It is the very paradise of butterflies, whose size, wide spread of wing, variety, and striking beauty of colors, we have only seen equaled at Penang and Singapore, in the Malacca Straits. Some of the avenues leading to the environs are lined with handsome trees, which add greatly to their attractiveness and comfort. The silk cotton tree and the almond are favorites here as ornamental shade trees. The cape jessamine is universally cultivated at Pará, and grows to a large size, filling the air with its agreeable fragrance. Here the oleander, covered with clusters of bloom, grows to the height of twenty feet and more. The lime, with its fine acid fruit, which is in great request in making cooling drinks, also abounds.
The glimpses of domestic life which one gets in passing the better class of dwellings reveal rooms with tiled or polished wooden floors, cane-finished chairs, sofas, and rockers to match, a small foot rug here and there, a group of flowering plants in one corner, while hammocks seem to take the place of bedsteads. The temperature is high at Pará in summer, and woolen carpets, or even mattresses, are too warm for use in this climate. Bignonias, oleanders, and other blooming plants abound in the flower-plots about the city, besides many flowering vines which are strangers to us, half orchids, half creepers. One is apt to jump at conclusions. These people dearly love flowers, so we conclude they cannot be very wicked.
The families live, as it were, in the open patios, which form the centres of their dwellings, are shaded by broad verandas, and upon which the domestic apartments all open. The accessories are few, and not entirely convenient, according to a northerner's ideas of comfort; but this is compensated for by the fragrance of flowers, the picturesqueness of the surroundings, and the free and easy out-of-door atmosphere which ignores conventionalities. These attractive interiors suggest a sort of picnic mode of life which has conformed itself to climatic influences. Everything is very quiet, there is no hurry, and the stillness is occasionally interrupted by the musical laughter of children, which rings out clear and pleasantly, entirely in harmony with the surroundings. And such children! Artists' models, every one of them. It all seems to a stranger to be the very poetry of living, yet we venture to say that each household has its skeleton in the closet, and some a whole anatomical museum!
At Bahia, further south, a revelation awaits the traveler in the delicious richness, size, and delicacy of the oranges which grow there in lavish abundance, and which are famous, all along the coast. Here at Pará, the same may be said of the pineapple, the raising of which is a local specialty. These are not picked until fully ripe, and often weigh ten pounds each. When cut open, the inside can be eaten with a spoon, if one fancies that mode. They require no sugar; nature has supplied the saccharine principle in abundance. They are absolutely perfect in themselves alone. People sailing northward lay in a great store of this admirable fruit, which is as cheap as it is delicious and appetizing. In New England, the pines of which we partake have been picked in a green condition in Bermuda, the Bahamas, or Florida, to enable them to bear transportation. They ripen only partially off the stem, and after a very poor style, decay setting in at the same time; consequently the pulp is not suitable to swallow, and is always more or less indigestible. The Pará pines are seedless, and are propagated by replanting the suckers. The crown, we were told, would also thrive and reproduce the fruit if properly planted, but the first named process is that generally employed, and is probably the best.
In the neighborhood of Pará are many large and profitable cocoa plantations, the industry connected with which is a growing one, representing a considerable amount of capital. But above all others, the gathering and preparing of raw india-rubber for exportation is the prevailing industry of this Brazilian capital.
The common people seem to be an uncertain mixture of races, confounding all attempts properly to analyze their antecedents. They have touches of refinement and underlying tenderness of instinct, as exhibited in their home associations, but also evince a coarseness which is not inviting, to say the least. They are universal lovers of pet birds and small animals. No household seems to be complete without some representatives of the sort. Among these are cranes, ibises, herons, turtle-doves, parrots, macaws, and paroquets. Monkeys of various tribes, the little marmoset being the favorite, are seen domesticated in almost every private garden, full of fun and mischief, and affording infinite amusement to the youthful members of the household. Young anacondas, sometimes ten feet long, are kept in and about the dwellings, to catch and drive away the rats! The reader smiles half incredulously at this, and we do not wonder. If one of these rodents be caught in a trap and killed, it is useless to offer it to an anaconda as food. That fastidious reptile will eat only such creatures as it kills itself. This is also characteristic of the African lion and the tiger of India, when in the wild state; neither will molest a dead body, of man or beast, which they have not themselves deprived of life, though hyenas, wolves, and some other animals will even rob the graves of human bodies for food. We had never heard of anacondas employed as ratters before we came to Pará, but we were assured by those who should know that they are especially effective in warfare against this domestic pest.
Broad verandas give a grateful shade to most of the dwelling-houses, which are seldom over one story in height, each one, however, extending over considerable ground space. In the business part of the town, fronting the harbor, the houses are generally two or even three stories in height, it being necessary in such localities to economize the square feet of ground occupied. The same sort of external ornamentation is seen here as upon the house fronts in Mexico, namely, the profuse decoration of the walls with glazed earthen tiles, often of fancy colors, which gives a checkerboard appearance to a dwelling-house not calculated to please a critical eye.
The Opera House of Pará is a large and imposing structure, one of the finest edifices in the town, and the largest theatre, we believe, in South America, quite uncalled for, it would seem, by any local demand. It is built of brick, finished in stucco, the front being decorated with marble columns having handsome and elaborate Corinthian capitals. The house lights up brilliantly at night, being finished in red, white, and gold. It has four narrow galleries supported upon brackets, thus obviating the necessity for the objectionable upright posts which so provokingly interfere with the line of sight. The cathedral is a substantial and handsome structure, with a couple of tall towers, after the usual Spanish style, each containing a dozen bells. The interior has all the florid and tawdry ornamentation always to be found in Roman Catholic churches, together with the usual complement of bleeding figures, arrow-pierced saints, high-colored paper rosettes, utterly meaningless, together with any amount of glittering tinsel, calculated to catch the eye and captivate the imagination of the grossly ignorant native population.
There are many minor churches in the city, and judging by the number seen in the streets, there must be at least a thousand priests, whose sole occupation, when they are not gambling or cock-fighting, is to cajole and impoverish the common people. It was a church festival when we visited the cathedral. There are over two hundred such days, out of every three hundred and sixty-five, in Roman Catholic countries,—not days of humiliation and prayer, but days of gross latitude, of bull-fights, occasions when the decent amenities of life are ignored, days when the broadest license prevails, and all excesses are condoned. There were a large number of women present in the cathedral on this day, but scarcely half a dozen men. The better class were dressed gayly, and wore some rich jewelry. The love of finery prevails, and pervades all classes. Some of the ladies were clad in costly silks and laces, set off by brilliants and pearls. Diamonds and precious stones are very common in this country, and a certain class seem to carry a large share of their worldly possessions showily displayed upon their persons. What the humbler class lacked in richness of material, they made up in gaudy colors, blazing scarfs, and imitation gold and silver jewelry. Nature sets the example of bright colors in these latitudes, in gaudy plumed birds and high-tinted flowers and fruits. The natives only follow her. The few men who were present came to ogle the women, and having satisfied their low-bred curiosity, soon retired to the neighboring bar-rooms and gambling saloons. On special festal days temporary booths are erected in the squares, in which intoxicants are sold, together with toys, cakes, cigars, and charms, the latter said to have been blessed by the priests, and therefore sure to prevent any injury from the evil eye!
As in most of the South American cities, there are several elaborate buildings here, formerly used as convents, which are now devoted to more creditable purposes. The present custom house occupies one of these edifices, which is crowned with two lofty towers.
There are plenty of mendicants in the streets of Pará, who are very ready with their importunities, especially in appealing to strangers. The average citizens seemed to be liberal in dealing with these beggars. Saturday is called "poor day" in Pará, as it is also in Havana, Matanzas, Cienfuegos, etc., when every housekeeper who is able to give something does so, if it be only a small roll of bread, to each visiting beggar. At most houses these small rolls are baked regularly for this purpose, and the applicant is nearly sure to get one upon calling, and if he represents a large family he may receive two. Money is rarely, if ever, given by residents, nor is it expected; but strangers are surrounded as by an army with banners, and vigorously importuned for centavos. The Spaniards and Portuguese are natural beggars.
Here let us digress for a moment. The system of beggary prevailing in Spanish countries is very trying to all sensitive travelers. In Italy, Spain, and the south of France, especially at the watering-places, it is a terrible pest. Naples has become almost unendurable on this account. At every rod one is constantly importuned and followed by beggars of all sizes, ages, and of both sexes,—individuals who should be placed in asylums and cared for by the state. No reasonable person would object to paying a certain sum on entering these resorts, to be honestly devoted to charitable purposes, provided it would insure him against the disgusting importunities of which strangers are now the victims. Visitors hasten away from the localities where these things are not only permitted but are encouraged. It is thought to be quite the thing to fleece foreigners of every possible penny, and by every possible means. The contrast in this respect between the cities of the United States and those of Europe and South America is eminently creditable to the former. In the beautiful little watering-place known as Luchon, in the south of France, at the foot of the Pyrenees, with scarcely four thousand inhabitants, there are over one hundred professional beggars, who constantly beset and drive away visitors. Some of these, as usual in such cases, are known to be well off pecuniarily, but are marked by some physical deformity upon which they trade. If the stranger gives, he is oftenest encouraging a swindle, rarely performing a true charity. This is one of the increasing disgraces of Paris. Beggars know too much to importune citizens, but strangers are beset at every corner of the boulevards and public gardens, particularly by children, girls and boys, trained for the purpose.
Of all the races seen in Brazil, the half-breed Indian girls are the most attractive, and until they are past the age of twenty-five or thirty years they are almost universally handsome, no matter to what class they belong. Those who have the advantage of domestic comforts, good food, and delicate associations develop accordingly, and are especially beautiful. They would make charming artists' models. The remarkably straight figure of the native women is noticeable, caused by the practice referred to of carrying burdens on the head. As already mentioned, if a negro or Indian woman has an article to transport, even if it be but a quart bottle, or an umbrella, it is placed at once upon the head. The article may weigh five pounds or fifty, it is all the same; everything but the babies is thus transported. These little naked creatures, always suggestive of monkeys, are supported on the mother's back, held there by a shawl or rebozo tied securely across the chest. When the children are six or eight years old, they are promoted to the dignity of wearing one small garment, an abbreviated shirt or chemise.
The principal food of the common people of northern Brazil is farina and dried fish, with fried plantains and ripe bananas. Crabs and oysters of a poor description abound along the coast, and are eaten by the people, both in a raw and cooked condition. But the white people avoid the coast oysters, which sometimes poison those not accustomed to them.
The finest avenue in Pará is the Estrada de São José, bordered by grand old palms, which form a beautiful perspective and a welcome shade, the feathery tops nearly embracing each other overhead. The tramway takes one through the environs by the Rua de Nazareth, for five miles to Marco da Legua, where the public wells of the city are situated. The way thither is lined with neat and handsome dwellings, shaded by noble trees. The botanical garden is well worth a visit by all lovers of horticulture. The forest creeps up towards the environs of the town, wherein many of the trees are rendered beautiful by clinging orchids of gorgeous blue; others are of blood red, and some of orange yellow, presenting also a great diversity of form. One has not far to go to see specimens of the india-rubber tree, growing from ninety to a hundred feet in height, while measuring from four to five feet in diameter. This tree begins to produce gum at the age of fifteen years. The trunk is smooth and perfectly round, the bark of a buff color. It bears a curious fruit, of which some animals are said to be fond. The author has seen the india-rubber tree growing in the island of Ceylon, where it seemed to reach a greater height and dimensions than it does in the district of Pará. A considerable portion of the roots lie above ground, stretching away from the base of the tree like huge anacondas, and finally disappearing in the earth half a rod or more from the parent trunk. The reader can hardly fail to be familiar with the simple wild plant, which grows so abundantly by our New England roadsides, known as the milk-weed, which, when the stem is cut or broken, emits a creamy, pungent smelling liquid. In the latitude of Pará, this little weed, of the same family, assumes the form of a colossal tree, and is known as the india-rubber tree. The United States takes of Brazilian rubber, in the crude state, over twenty-five thousand tons annually. As to coffee, Brazil supplies one half of all which is consumed in the civilized world; but we should frankly tell the reader, if he does not already realize the fact, that it is most frequently marked and sold for "Old Government Java."
The india-rubber tree is tapped annually very much after the same style in which we treat the sugar-maple in Vermont, and elsewhere, to procure its sap. A yellow, creamy liquid flows forth from the rubber tree into small cups placed beneath an incision made in the trunk. When the cup becomes full, its contents is emptied into a large common receptacle, where it is allowed to partially harden, and in which form it is called caoutchouc. The tapping of the trees and attending to the gathering of the sap furnish employment to hundreds of the natives, who, however, make but small wages, being employed by contractors, who either lease the trees of certain districts, or own large tracts of forest land. These Brazilian forests are very grand, abounding in valuable aromatic plants, precious woods, gaudy birds, and various wild animals. The number of monkeys is absolutely marvelous, including many curious varieties. A native will not kill a monkey; indeed, it must be difficult for a European to make up his mind to shoot a creature so nearly human in its actions, and whose pleading cries when wounded are said to be so pitiable.
One of the peculiar street sights in Pará is that of native women with a dozen young monkeys of different species for sale. Marmosets can be bought for a quarter of a dollar each. So tame are the little creatures that they cling about the woman's person, fastening upon her hair, arms, and neck, not in the least inclined to escape from her. It is remarkable and interesting to see how very fond they become of their owner, if he is kind to them. Like the dog and the cat, they seem to have a strong desire for human companionship. When seen running wild in the woods, leaping from tree to tree, and from branch to branch, they do not try to get far away from the presence of man, but only to keep, in their untamed state, just out of reach of his hands. Ships sailing hence generally take away a few of these animals, but as they are delicate, and very sensitive to climatic changes, many of them die before reaching Europe or North America.
The great beauty of Pará is its abundance of palm trees. The palm is always an interesting object, as well as a most valuable one; interesting because of its historical and legendary associations, and valuable, since it would be almost impossible to enumerate the number of important uses to which it and its products are put. To the people of the tropics it is the prolific source of food, shelter, clothing, fuel, fibre for several uses, sugar, oil, wax, and wine. It has been aptly termed the "princess of the vegetable world." One indigenous species, the Piassaba, is a palm which yields a most valuable fibre, extensively manufactured into cordage and ships' cables, for which purpose it is much in use on the coast of South America. It is found to be stronger and more elastic than hemp when thus employed, besides which it is far more durable. The product of this species of palm is also exported in large quantities to North America and to England, for the purpose of making brushes, brooms, and various sorts of domestic matting.
The nights are especially beautiful in this region. We were interested in observing the remarkable brilliancy of the sky; the stars do not seem to sparkle, as with us at the north, but shed a soft, steady light, making all things luminous. This is the natural result of the clearness of the atmosphere. One is surprised at first to find the moon apparently so much increased in size and effulgency. The Southern Cross is ever present, though it is dominated by the Centaur. Orion is seen in his glory, and the Scorpion is clearly defined. In the author's estimation, there is no exhibition of the heavens in these regions which surpasses the magnificence of the far-reaching Milky Way.
Island of Marajo.—Rare and Beautiful Birds.—Original Mode of Securing Humming-Birds.—Maranhão.—Educational.—Value of Native Forests.—Pernambuco.—Difficulty of Landing.—An Ill-chosen Name.—Local Scenes.—Uncleanly Habits of the People.—Great Sugar Mart.—Native Houses.—A Quaint Hostelry.—Catamarans.—A Natural Breakwater.—Sailing down the Coast.
The island of Marajo, situated at the mouth of the Amazon, opposite Pará, and belonging to the province or state of that name, is a hundred and eighty miles in length and about one hundred and sixty in width, nearly identical in size with the island of Sicily, and almost oval in form. One of the principal shore settlements is Breves, on the southeastern corner of the island, which lies somewhat low, and consists of remarkably fertile soil, so abounding in wild and beautiful vegetation and exquisite floral varieties, that it is called in this region "the Island of Flowers." We can easily believe the name to be appropriately chosen, since, as we skirt its verdant shores hour after hour, they seem to emit the drowsy, caressing sweetness of fragrant flowers so sensibly as to almost produce a narcotic effect. The easterly or most seaward part of Marajo is open, marshy, sandy land, but back from the shore the soil is of a rich, black alluvium, supporting in very large tracts a dense forest growth, similar to all the low-lying tropical lands of South America. The population is recorded as numbering about twenty thousand, divided into several settlements, mostly on the coast, and consists largely of the aboriginal race found by the first comers upon this island, who, on account of their somewhat isolated condition, have amalgamated less with Europeans and the imported colored race than any other tribe on the east coast of the continent.
The extensive meadows of Marajo are the grazing fields of numerous herds of wild horses and horned cattle, the former of a superior breed, highly prized on the mainland; and yet so rapidly do they increase in this climate, in the wild state, that every few years they are killed in large numbers for their hides alone. The exports from the island consist of rice, cattle, horses, and hides. There are some large plantations devoted to the cultivation of rice, the soil and water supply of certain districts being especially favorable to this crop. As intimated, a considerable portion of Marajo is covered with a forest growth so dense as to be compared to the jungles of Africa and India, and which, so far as is known, has never been penetrated by the foot of man. Travelers who have visited the borders of this leafy wilderness expatiate upon the strange, inexplicable sounds which are heard at times, amid the prevailing stillness and sombre aspect of these primeval woods. Sometimes there comes, it is said, from out the forest depth a wild cry, like that of a human being in distress, but which, however long one may listen, is not repeated. Again, there is heard an awful crash, like the falling of some ponderous forest giant, then stillness once more settles over the mysterious, tangled woods. Every time the silence is broken it seems to be by some new and inexplicable sound, not to be satisfactorily accounted for.
The lagoons near the centre of Marajo are said to abound in alligators, which are sometimes sought for by the natives for their hides, for which a fair price is realized, since fashion has rendered this article popular in a hundred different forms. The number and variety of birds and lesser animals to be found upon the island are marvelous. Certain species of birds seem to have retreated to this spot from the mainland, before the tide of European immigration; indeed, it has for a long time been considered the paradise of the naturalist. Over thirty species of that peculiar bird, the toucan, have been secured here.
When Professor Agassiz was engaged in his scientific exploration of the Amazon, he dispatched a small but competent party especially to obtain specimens from this island, the result being both a surprise and a source of great gratification to the king of naturalists. Many of the objects secured by these explorers were rare and beautiful birds, not a few of which are unique, and of which no previous record existed. There were also many curious insects and other specimens particularly valuable to naturalists, most of which are preserved to-day in the Agassiz Museum at Cambridge, Massachusetts. The toucan, just spoken of, is most remarkable for its beauty and variety of colors, as well as for the very peculiar form and size of its elephantine bill, which makes it look singularly ill-balanced. This ludicrous appendage is nine inches long and three in circumference; the color is vermilion and yellow delicately mingled. The toucan is much coveted for special collections by all naturalists, and is becoming very scarce, except in this one equatorial locality. Scarlet ibises and roseate spoonbills are also found at Marajo, both remarkably fine examples of semi-aquatic fowl, and when these are secured in good condition for preservation, the natives realize good prices for them. In order to procure desirable specimens of the humming-bird species, which are also abundant on this island, the native hunters resort to an ingenious device, so as not to injure the skin or the extremely delicate plumage of this butterfly-bird. For this purpose they use a peculiar syringe made from reeds, and charged with a solution of adhesive gum, which, when directed by an experienced hand, clogs the bird's wings at once, stopping its flight and causing it to fall to the ground. Some are caught by means of nets set on the end of long bamboo poles, such as are used to secure butterflies, but this method is poorly adapted to catch so quick moving a creature as a humming-bird. The author has seen, in southern India, butterflies of gaudiest texture with bodies as large as small humming-birds, which were quite as brilliant as they in lovely colors. The variety and beauty of this insect, as found anywhere from Tuticorin to Darjeeling, is notable. Wherever British troops are permanently settled, the wives of the common soldiers become very expert in catching and arranging these attractive objects, preserving them in frames under glass. These find ready purchasers for museums and private collections all over Europe, and are sold at moderate prices, but serve to add a welcome trifle to the extremely poor pay of a common soldier having perhaps a wife and one or two children to support.
The island of Marajo was not formed at the Amazon's mouth of soil brought down from the interior by the river's current, as is often the case with islands thus situated, but is a natural, rocky formation which serves to divide the channel and give the river a double outlet into the Atlantic. Agassiz studied its character, and gives us an interesting statement as the result. He declared, after careful geological examination, that it is an island which was once situated far inland, away from the river's mouth, but which is now brought near to it by the gradual encroachment of the Atlantic Ocean, whose waves and restless currents have slowly worn away the northeastern part of the continent. This abrasion must have been going on for many thousand years, to have produced such a decided topographical change. For the word years, upon second thought, read ages, which will undoubtedly express the true idea much more correctly.
There are over twenty species of palms indigenous to Marajo, which, as one skirts the water front, are seen growing along the far-reaching shore, fostered by the humidity of the atmosphere arising from the ever-flowing waters of the great river. Among these the peach-palm is quite conspicuous, with its spiny stems and mealy, nutritious fruit. There are also the cocoa-palm and the assai-palm, the latter gayly decorated with its delicate green plumes and long spear pointing heavenward, an emblem borne by no other tree in existence. The great variety of forms of plant life and giant grasses is extremely curious and beautiful on this interesting island. We heard, while at Pará, of a proposal made by some European party to thoroughly explore Marajo, which has never yet been done, so far as is known to our time, and it is believed that some very interesting and valuable discoveries may be the result of such an expedition, composed of engineers, scientists, and naturalists.
A day's sail to the eastward, bearing a little to the south along the coast, brings us to the port of Maranhão, which is the capital of a province of Brazil known by the same name, situated a little over three hundred miles from Pará. The place is picturesquely nestled, as it were, in the very lap of the mountains, which come boldly down to the coast at this point. It was founded nearly three hundred years ago, is regularly built, and contains between thirty and forty thousand inhabitants. Nearly all of the houses, which are generally of two stories, are ornamented with attractive balconies, and have handsome gardens attached to them, where the luxurious verdure is with difficulty kept within proper bounds. Vegetation runs riot in equatorial regions. It is the one pleasing outlet of nature, whose overcharged vitality, spurred on by the climate, must find vent either in teeming vegetation or in raging volcanoes, tidal waves, and unwelcome earthquakes, though sometimes, to be sure, we find them all combined in the tropics.
The harbor of Maranhão is excellent and sheltered, the depth of water permitting the entrance of ships drawing full twenty feet, an advantage which some of the ports to the southward would give millions of dollars to possess. According to published statistics, the exports during 1890 were as follows: thirty-six hundred tons of cotton, six hundred tons of sugar, seven hundred tons of hides, a large amount of rice, and some other minor articles. The imports for the same period were estimated at something less than three million dollars in value. This is the entrepôt of several populous districts, besides that of which it is the capital. The province itself contains a number of navigable rivers, with some thrifty towns on their banks. The bay gives ample evidence of commercial activity, containing at all times a number of foreign steamships, with a goodly show of coasting vessels. The place is slowly but steadily growing in its business relations, and in the number of its permanent population.
It cannot make any pretension to architectural excellence, though the Bishop's palace and the cathedral are handsome structures. There are two or three other prominent edifices, quaint and Moorish, which were once nunneries or monasteries; also a foundling institution, a special necessity in all Roman Catholic countries. We found here a public library, and a botanical garden. Not far inland there are some extensive rice plantations, the province in some portions being specially adapted to producing this valuable staple. We were informed by those whose opinion was worthy of respect, that educational advantages are rather remarkable here, the Lyceum having in the past few years graduated some of the most prominent statesmen and professionals in Brazil. One thing is very certain, the authorities cannot multiply educational facilities any too rapidly in this country, nor give the subject any too much attention, especially as regards the rising generation of both sexes. So far as we could learn by inquiry, or judge by careful observation, the ignorance of the mass of the people is simply deplorable.
Maranhão is situated about fourteen hundred miles north of Rio Janeiro, with which port it carries on an extensive coasting trade. The exports, besides the staples already spoken of, are various, including annotto, sarsaparilla, balsam copaiba, and other medicinal extracts, together with rum and crude india-rubber. The climate is torrid, the city being one hundred and fifty miles south of the equator; and though, like most of the towns on the eastern coast of the continent, it is rather an unhealthy locality, it is much less so than Pará, and is a far more cleanly place than that city, its situation giving it the advantage of a system of natural drainage. The country near Maranhão abounds in native forests of exuberant richness, producing a valuable quality of timber, and affording some of the finest cabinet woods known to commerce, as well as a practically inexhaustible supply of various dyewoods, a considerable business being done in the export of the latter article. It was observed that the assai-palm, from which the palm wine is made, was also a prominent feature here. The trunk is quite smooth, the fruit growing in heavy bunches like grapes, dark brown in color, and about the size of cranberries, hanging in heavy clusters just below the bunch of long leaves which forms the top of the tree. The native drink which is made from these palm grapes is a favorite beverage in northern Brazil, and when properly fermented it contains about the same percentage of alcohol as English pale ale.
To the author, the town of Maranhão was quite unknown; even its place upon the maps had never attracted his attention until after it was seen lying peacefully in an amphitheatre of tall hills, which come down close to the rock-ribbed shore of the Atlantic Ocean. This acknowledgment is between ourselves, for such a confession would sound very ridiculous to the good people of Maranhão.
After leaving its harbor, our next objective point was Pernambuco, which is situated about four days' sail from Pará by steamship, and about three from Maranhão.
This well known port, with its one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, is reckoned as the third city of Brazil in point of size and commercial importance. It lacks elevation to produce a good effect, and recalls the low-lying city of Havana in general appearance, as one approaches it from the sea. The harbor is not what could be desired for a commercial city, having hardly sufficient depth of water for vessels of heavy tonnage, and being also too narrow for a modern long steamship to safely turn in. The American line of steamships come to a mooring inside the harbor, but the European lines, or at least the Pacific Mail, in which we made the home passage, anchor in the open roadstead, three quarters of a mile from the shore. The harbor is formed by a long natural reef, which makes a breakwater between it and the open sea, a portion of the reef having been built up with solid masonry to render it more effective. This remarkable coral formation, which is more or less clearly defined, extends along the coast for a considerable distance,—it is said for four hundred miles. Opposite Pernambuco it rises six feet above the water, that is, above high-water mark, and runs parallel to the front street of the city at the distance from it of about a third of a mile or less. A wide opening in the reef at the northern end of the town makes the entrance to the harbor. Off the northeast coast of Australia, there is a very similar reef-formation, fully as long as this on the South American coast, but situated much further from the shore.
It is a serious drawback that passengers by large ocean steamers cannot enter the harbor of Pernambuco except by lighters or open boats; all freight brought by these steamers must also be transhipped. Landing here is often accomplished at considerable personal risk, and a thorough ducking with salt water is not at all uncommon in the attempt to reach the shore. To pull a boat from the open roadstead into the harbor, or vice versa, requires six stout oarsmen and an experienced man at the helm, so that landing from the Pacific Mail steamers is both a serious and an expensive affair. If a very heavy sea is running, the thing cannot be done, and no one will attempt it. The powerful wind which so often prevails on the coast occasionally creates quite a commotion even inside the harbor, among the shipping moored there, causing the largest cables to part and vessels to drag their anchors. Of course a vessel lying in the open roadstead, outside of the reef, has no protection whatever, and is in a critical situation if the wind blows towards the land. If it comes on to blow suddenly, she buoys and slips her anchor at once; she dares not waste the time to hoist it, but gets away as quickly as possible to where there is plenty of sea room and no lee shore to fear. Fortunately, though so fierce for the time being, and of a cyclonic character, the storms upon the coast are generally of brief duration, and like the furious pamperos, which are so dreaded by mariners further south, they blow themselves out in a few hours.
The geographical situation of Pernambuco is such, in the track of commerce, that vessels bound north or south, from Europe or from North America, naturally make it a port of call to obtain late advices and provisions. The name has been singularly chosen, no one can say how or by whom, but it signifies "the mouth of hell," a cognomen which we do not think the place at all deserves. It is a narrow, crowded, picturesque old seaport.
The town is situated at the mouth of the Biberibe River, just five hundred miles south of the equator, and is divided in rather a peculiar manner into three distinct parts: Recife, on a narrow peninsula; Boa Vista, on the river shore; and San Antonio, on an island in the river; all being connected, however, by six or eight substantial iron bridges. The first named division is the business portion of the capital, about whose water front the commercial life of Pernambuco centres, but the streets of Recife are very narrow and often confusingly crooked. Boa Vista is beautified by pleasant domestic residences, delightful gardens, and attractive promenades, far beyond anything which a stranger anticipates meeting in this part of the world. Though the business portion of the city is so low, the other sections are of better and more recent construction.
The view of the town and harbor to be had from some portions of Olinda is very fine and comprehensive, taking in a wide reach of land and ocean. When a brief storm is raging, spending its force against the reef, the view from this point is indeed grand. The sea, angered at meeting a substantial impediment, seethes and foams in wild excitement, dashing fifty feet into the air, and, falling over the reef, lashes the inner waters of the harbor into waves which mount the landing piers, and set everything afloat in the broad plaza which lines the shore. The big ships rock and sway incessantly, straining at their anchors, or chafing dangerously at their moorings. Precautions are taken to avert damage, but man's strength and skill count for little when opposed by the enraged elements.
This plaza, or quay, is shaded by aged magnolias of great height, and is the resort of unemployed seamen, fruit dealers, and idlers of all degrees. The house fronts in the various sections of the town are brilliantly colored, yellow, blue, white, and pink, also sometimes being covered halfway up the first story with glittering tiles of various hues. At nearly every turn one comes upon the moss-grown, crumbling façade of some old church, about the corners of which there is often a grossly filthy receptacle, the vile odor from which permeates the surrounding atmosphere. This was found to be almost insupportable with the thermometer standing at 90° Fahr. in the shade, forming so obvious a means for propagating malarial fever and sickness generally as to be absolutely exasperating. Notwithstanding all appearances, the American consul assured us that Pernambuco is one of the healthiest cities on the east coast of South America. The yellow fever, however, does not by any means forget to visit the place annually. Experience showed us that the residents along the coast were accustomed to give their own city precedence in the matter of hygienic conditions, and to admit, with serious faces, that the other capitals, north and south, were sadly afflicted by epidemics at nearly all seasons.
Pernambuco has several quite small but well-arranged public squares, decorated with fountains, trees, and flowers of many species. Two of these plazas have handsome pagodas, from which outdoor concerts are often given by military bands. The city is a thriving and progressive place, has extensive gas works, an admirable system of water supply, tramways, good public schools, and one college or high school. We must not forget to add to this list a veryflourishingfoundling asylum, where any number of poor little waifs are constantly being received, and no questions asked. A revolving box or cradle is placed in a wall of the hospital, next to the street, in which any person can deposit an infant, ring the bell, and the cradle will revolve, leaving the child on the inside of the establishment, where the little deserted object will be duly cared for. Connected with the hospital are several outlying buildings, where children are placed at various stages of growth. We were told that about forty per cent. of such children live to grow up to maturity, and leave the care of the government fairly well fitted to take their place in the world, and to fight the battle of life so very inauspiciously begun. It has been strongly argued that such an establishment offers a premium upon illegitimacy and immorality; but one thing is to be considered, it prevents the terrible crime of infanticide, which is said to have prevailed here to an alarming extent before this hospital was founded.
There is a passably good system of drainage, which was certainly very much needed, and since its completion the general health of the place is said to have considerably improved. This is not all that is required, however. There should be a decided reform in the habits of the people as regards cleanliness. At present they are positively revolting. The inhabitants are the very reverse of neat in their domestic associations, and home arrangements for natural conveniences are inexcusably objectionable; such, indeed, as would in a North American city, or even small town, call for the prompt interference of the local board of health. These remarks do not apply to isolated cases; the trouble is universal. Families living otherwise in comparative affluence utterly disregard neatness and decency in the matter to which we allude.
The districts neighboring to Pernambuco form extensive plains, well adapted to the raising of sugar, coffee, and cotton, as well as all sorts of tropical fruits and vegetables. There are many flourishing plantations representing these several interests, more especially that of sugar. The storehouses on the wharves and in the business sections of the city, the oxcarts passing through the streets, drawn each by a single animal, and even the very atmosphere, seem to be full of sugar. It is, in fact, the great sugar mart of South America. The annual amount of the article which is exported averages some twelve hundred thousand tons. Sugar is certainly king at Pernambuco. People not only drink, but they talk sugar. It is the one great interest about which all other business revolves. The article is mostly of the lower grade, and requires to be refined before it is suitable for the market. The refining process is being generally adopted at the plantations. American machinery is introduced for the purpose with entire success. The export of the crude article will, it is believed, be much less every year for the future, until it ceases altogether. It was a singular sight to observe the naked negroes carrying canvas bags of crude sugar upon their heads through the streets, each bag weighing a hundred pounds or more. The intense heat caused the canvas to exude quantities of syrup or molasses, which covered their dark, glossy bodies with small streams of fluid. They trotted along in single file, and at a quick pace, towards their destination, unheeding the sticky condition of their woolly heads and naked bodies.
Not far inland there are extensive meadows, where large herds of horned cattle are raised, together with a breed of half-wild horses, the breaking and domesticating of which, as here practiced, is a most cruel process. A certain set of men devote themselves to this business; rough riders, we should call them, very rough. Good horses are to be had at extraordinarily low prices. In the back country there are some grand and extensive forests, which produce fine cabinet woods and superior dye woods.
By consulting a map of the western hemisphere, it will be seen that Pernambuco is situated on the great eastern shoulder of South America, where it pushes farthest into the Atlantic Ocean, fifteen hundred miles south of Pará, and about five hundred north of Bahia. On the long coral reef which separates the harbor from the open sea is a picturesque lighthouse, also a quaint old watch tower which dates from the time of the Dutch dominion here. It is proposed to build additional layers of heavy granite blocks upon the reef, so as to raise it about six or eight feet higher and make it of a uniform elevation along the entire city front, and thus afford almost complete protection for the inner anchorage. It will be only possible to make any real improvement of the harbor by adopting a thorough system of dredging and deepening. There was evidence of such a purpose being already in progress on our second visit, two large steam dredging machines being anchored at the southerly end of the harbor.
The people of this hot region know the great value of shade trees, consequently they abound, half hiding from view the numerous handsome villas which form the attractive suburbs of the city. Everywhere one sees tall cocoanut palms, clusters of feathery bamboos, widespread mangoes, prolific bananas, guavas, and plantains growing among other graceful tropical trees, rich in the green texture of their foliage, and thrice rich in their luscious and abundant fruits. Among the vine products we must not forget to mention a rich, high flavored grape, which is native here, and which all people praise after once tasting. The water, which is brought into the city by a system of double iron pipes, comes from a neighboring lake, and is a pure and wholesome drink, a most incomparable blessing in equatorial regions, which no person who has not suffered for the want of it can duly appreciate.
The International Hotel is the favorite resort of strangers, and is situated a couple of miles from the harbor. It is surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers, the golden oranges weighing down the branches nearly to the ground by their size and abundance, while the young blossoms fill the air with their delicate perfume,—fruit and blossoms on the tree at the same time. The garden is thronged by household pets, and contains a spacious aviary. The monkey tribe is fully represented; gaudy winged parrots dazzle the eye with impossible colors. One partakes here, in the open air, of the refreshing viands amid the songs of birds, the occasional scream of the cockatoo, the cooing of turtle-doves, and the fragrance of a profusion of tropical flowers. The native servants are well-trained, and there is a French chef. We were told that this attractive place had once belonged to a very wealthy Brazilian, a planter, who had come to grief financially, and as the house was offered for sale, it had been purchased for one fifth of its original cost and adapted to hotel purposes. While enjoying our fruit at dessert, a somewhat similar experience was recalled as having taken place at Christiania, in Norway, where visitors enjoy the meals in a sort of outdoor museum and garden, surrounded by curious preserved birds mingled with living ones, the latter so tame as to alight fearlessly upon the table and await any choice bit guests may offer them.
We shall not soon forget the very appetizing dinner of which we partook, amid such attractive surroundings, in the gardens of the International Hotel at Pernambuco. One fruit which was served to us is known by the name of the loquat. It is round, dark yellow, and about the size of a Tangerine orange,—a great favorite with the natives, though it is mostly stone and skin, and tastes like turpentine.
This city is often called the Venice of Brazil, but why, it is difficult for one to understand. It is only poetical license, for there is not the first actual resemblance between the two cities. True, there are several watercourses, and half a dozen bridges, intersecting this Brazilian capital. One would be equally justified in calling the frail catamarans which are used by the fishermen in these waters, gondolas. This singular craft, by the way, consists of four or five logs of the cork-palm tree, confined together by a series of strong lashings, no nails being used, thus securing a necessary degree of elasticity. One end of the logs is hewn down to a smaller size or width than the other, thus forming stem and stern, while a single thick plank serves as a keel. There are no bulwarks to this crazy craft,—for it can hardly be called anything else,—the whole being freely washed by the sea; but yet, with a rude mast carrying a triangular sail, and with a couple of oars, two or three fishermen venture far away from the shore; indeed, we encountered them out of sight of land. A couple of upright stakes are driven into the logs, to hold on by when occasion requires. It is really wonderful to see how weatherly such a frail affair can be, and how literally safe in a rough seaway. The boatmen who navigate these catamarans (they are called herejanguardas) manage to keep the market of Pernambuco abundantly supplied with the strange, fantastic fish which so prevail along the Atlantic coast in equatorial regions.
We have seen a craft very similar to these catamarans in use off the Coromandel coast, between Madras and the mouth of the Hoogly River, which leads up to Calcutta. Here the natives manage them in a sea so rough that an ordinary ship's boat, if exposed, would surely be swamped. The Madras catamaran consists of three pieces of timber, mere logs twelve or fourteen feet long, securely bound together with ropes made from the fibre of the cocoanut palm. Nails are no more available here than in the former crafts we have named. No nails could withstand the wrenching which this raft is subjected to. The middle log is a little longer than the two outside ones, and is given a slight upward turn at the end which forms the prow. No sail is used, but two fishermen generally go out with each of these rafts, propelling them with broad-bladed paddles, used alternately on either side. Of course the natives who navigate these crafts are naked, with the exception of a breech-cloth at the loins. They are very frequently thrown off by the sea, but regain their places with remarkable agility. They manage also, somehow, to secure their fishing gear, and generally to bring in a remunerative fare from their excursions. Strange as the catamaran is, it must yet be described as breezy, watery, and safe—for amphibious creatures. There is one enemy these fishermen have to look out for, namely the shark, both on the coast of Madras and South America. It is more common to say when one is lost that the sharks got him, than it is to say he was drowned.
The reef so often referred to, forming the breakwater opposite Pernambuco, is about forty feet in width at the surface, and is the marvelous architecture of that tiny coral builder which works beneath these southern seas. When it has reared a pyramid reaching from the far bottom of the ocean to the surface, its mission is performed and it dies. It lives and works only beneath the surface of the sea; atmospheric air is fatal to it. The pyramids of Egypt cannot compare with these submerged structures for height, solidity, or magnitude. One is the product of a creature of such seeming unimportance as to require microscopic aid to detect its existence; the other are monuments erected by ancient kings commanding infinite resources; the former being the process of nature in carrying out her great and mysterious plan; the latter, the ambitious work of men whose very identity is now questionable. If we were to enter into a calculation based upon known scientific facts, as to how many thousands of years were required for this minute animal to rear this massive structure, the result would astonish the average reader.
On approaching Pernambuco from the sea, the first object to attract the eye is the long line of snow white breakers, caused by the incessant swell of the sea striking against the firmly planted reef with a deafening surge, breaking into foam and spray which are thrown forty feet and more into the air. As we drew near for the first time, the extended line of breakers was illumined by the early morning sun, making fancy rainbows and misty pictures in the mingled air and water. We were escorted by myriads of sea-birds, whose sharp cries came close upon the ear, as they flew in and about the rigging. Behind the reef lay the comparatively smooth waters of the harbor, dotted here and there by tiny white sails, curious-shaped coasting craft, rowboats, and steam tugs, while the background was formed by a leafless forest of tall ships' masts which lined the wharves, and partially screened the low-lying capital from view.
We have remained quite long enough at this city of the reef, and now turn southward towards the more attractive port of Bahia.
In running down the coast, the Brazilian shore is so near as to be distinctly visible, with its surf-fringed beach of golden sands extending mile after mile, beyond which, far inland, rise ranges of forest-clad hills, and beyond these, sky-reaching alps. It is often necessary to give the land a wide berth, as at certain points dangerous sandbars make out from it far to seaward; but whenever near enough to the coast to make out the character of the vegetation, it was of deepest green and exuberantly tropical. With the exception of one or two small towns, and an occasional fisherman's hamlet, the shore presented no signs of habitation, being mostly a sandy waste adjoining the sea, where heavy rollers spent their force upon the smooth, water-worn, yellow beach.
Port of Bahia.—A Quaint Old City.—Former Capital of Brazil.—Whaling Interests.—Beautiful Panorama.—Tramways.—No Color Line Here.—The Sedan Chair.—Feather Flowers.—Great Orange Mart.—Passion Flower Fruit.—Coffee, Sugar, and Tobacco.—A Coffee Plantation.—Something about Diamonds.—Health of the City.—Curious Tropical Street Scenes.
Bahia,—pronounced Bah-ee´ah,—situated three hundred and fifty miles south of Pernambuco, is the capital of a province of the same name in Brazil, and contains nearly two hundred thousand inhabitants. It is admirably situated on elevated ground at the entrance of All Saints Bay,—Todos os Santos,—just within Cape San Antonio, eight hundred miles or thereabouts north of Rio Janeiro. The entrance of the bay is seven miles broad. For its size, there are few harbors in the world which present a more attractive picture as one first beholds it on entering from the open Atlantic. The elevated site of the city, with its close array of neat, white three and four story houses, breaks the sky-line in front of the anchorage, while the town forms a half moon in shape, extending for a couple of miles each way, right and left. Near the water's edge, on the lower line of the city, are many substantial warehouses, official establishments, the custom house, and the like. Between the lower and the upper town is a long reach of green terraced embankment, intense in its bright verdure. Probably no other city on the globe, certainly not so far as our experience extends, is so peculiarly divided.
A sad episode marked our first experience here. We came to anchor in the harbor, according to custom, at what is known as the Quarantine. About a cable's length from us lay a large European steamship, flying the yellow flag at the fore. She came into port from Rio Janeiro on the previous evening; five of her passengers who had died of yellow fever on the passage were buried at sea, while two more were down with it, and were being taken to the lazaretto on shore, as we dropped our anchor. Probably they went there to die. This was naturally depressing, more so, perhaps, as we were bound direct for Rio Janeiro; but as we now came from a northern port with a clean bill of health, we were finally released from quarantine and permitted to land. It is late in the season—last of May—for this pest of the coast to prevail, but the year 1891 has been one of unusual fatality in the South American ports, and none of them have been entirely exempt from the scourge, some showing a fearful list of mortality among both citizens and strangers. We were conversant with many instances of a particularly trying and sad nature, if any distinction can be made where death intervenes with such a rude hand. Victims who were in apparent good health in the morning were not infrequently buried on the evening of the same day! But we will spare the reader harrowing details.
Americus Vespucius discovered Bahia in 1503, while sailing under the patronage of Portugal, and as it was settled in 1511, it is the oldest city in the country, being also the second in size, though not in commercial importance. The excellent harbor is so spacious as to form a small inland sea, the far-reaching shores of which are beautified by mingled green foliage and pretty villas stretching along the bay, while the business portion gives evidence of a growing and important foreign trade. This deduction is also corroborated by the presence of numerous European steamships, and full-rigged sailing vessels devoted to the transportation of merchandise. The buildings are generally of a substantial appearance, whether designed as residences or for business purposes, but are mostly of an antique pattern, old and dingy. Though the city is divided into the lower and the upper town, the latter two or three hundred feet above the former, it is made easily accessible by mechanical means. A large elevator, run by hydraulic power, is employed for the purpose, which was built by an energetic Yankee, and has been in successful operation several years, taking the citizens from the lower to the upper town, as we pass from basement to attic in our tall North American buildings. Between the two portions of Bahia there are streets for the transportation of merchandise, which wind zigzag fashion along the ravine to avoid the abruptness of the ascent. Besides these means, there are narrow stone steps leading upwards to the first level, among the tropical verdure, the deep green branches and leaves nodding to one from out of narrow lanes and quiet nooks. There is still another way of reaching the upper town, namely, a cable road, of very steep grade, one car ascending while another descends, thus forming a sort of counterbalance. By all these facilities united, the population manage very comfortably to overcome the topographical difficulties of the situation.
Though there are few buildings of any special note in Bahia, the general architecture being quaint and nondescript, still the combined view of the city, as we have endeavored to show, is of no inconsiderable beauty. We approached it from the north, doubling Light House Point in the early morning, just as the rising sun lighted up the bay. Seen from the harbor, the large dome of the cathedral overlooks the whole town very much like the gilded dome which forms so conspicuous an object on approaching the city of Boston. The dark, low-lying, grim-looking fort, which presides over the quarantine anchorage, is built upon a natural ledge of rock, half a mile from the shore of the town, and looks like a huge cheese-box.
In the upper portion of Bahia the streets are narrow, and the houses so tall as to nearly exclude the sun when it is not in the zenith. They are built of a native stone, and differ from the majority of South American dwellings, which are rarely over two stories in height, and generally of one only. We have heard it argued that it is advantageous to build tropical cities with narrow streets, so as to exclude the heat of the sun's rays and thus keep the houses cooler. This is not logical. Wide avenues and broad streets give ventilation which cannot be obtained in any other way in populous centres. Narrow lanes invite epidemics, fevers, and malarial diseases; broad thoroughfares give less opportunity for their lodgment. A beehive of human beings, crowded together in a narrow space, exhausts the life-giving principle of the surrounding atmosphere, but this is impossible where plenty of room is given for the circulation of fresh air.
These tall houses of Bahia have overhanging ornamental balconies, which towards evening are filled with the female portion of the families, laughing, chatting, singing, and smoking, for the ladies of these latitudes smoke in their domestic circles. Narrow as the streets of Bahia are, room is found for a well patronized tramway to run through them. No one thinks of walking, if it be for only a couple of hundred rods, on the line of the street cars. All of the civilized world seems to have grown lazy since the introduction of this modern facility for cheap transportation.
Bahia was the capital of Brazil until 1763, during which year the headquarters of the government were removed to Rio Janeiro.
This is a sort of New Bedford, so to speak, having been for more than a century extensively engaged in the whaling business, an occupation which is still pursued to a limited extent. Whales frequent the bay of Bahia, where they are sometimes captured by small boats from the shore. It is supposed that the favorite food of this big game is found in these waters. There was a time when the close pursuit by fishing fleets fitted out in nearly all parts of the world rendered the whales wary and scarce. The catching and killing of so many seemed to have thinned out their number in most of the seas of the globe. Then came the great discovery of rock oil, which rapidly superseded the whale oil of commerce in general use. Thereupon the pursuit of the gigantic animal ceased to be of any great moment, while there was oil enough spontaneously pouring out of the wells of Pennsylvania, and elsewhere, to fully satisfy the demand of the world at large. Being no longer hunted, the whales gradually became tame and increased in numbers, so that to-day there are probably as many in the usual haunts of these leviathans in either hemisphere as there ever were. The briefest sea voyage can hardly be made without sighting one or more of them, and sometimes in large schools.
There is a portion of the elevated section of Bahia which is called Victoria, a really beautiful locality, having delightful gardens, attractive walks, and myriads of noble shade trees. From here the visitor overlooks the bay, with its islands and curving shore decked with graceful palms, bamboos, and mango groves; upon the water are numerous tiny boats, while white winged sailing ships and dark, begrimed steamers unite in forming a picture of active life and maritime beauty. In the distance lies the ever green island of Itaparica, named after the first governor's Indian bride, while still farther away is seen range after range of tall, purple hills, multiplied until lost in the distance.
A few grim looking convents and monasteries, which have gradually come into the possession of the government, are now used as free schools, libraries, and hospitals. There is a medical college here which has a national reputation for general excellence, and many students come from Rio Janeiro, eight hundred miles away, to avail themselves of its advantages, receiving a diploma after attending upon its three years' course of studies. From subsequent inquiry, however, not only here but in Rio and elsewhere, we are satisfied that the science of medicine and surgery stands at a very low ebb throughout this great southland. Foreign doctors are looked upon with great distrust and jealousy; indeed, it is very difficult for them to obtain a suitable license to practice in Brazil. This does not apply to dentistry, of which profession there are many American experts in the country, who have realized decided pecuniary and professional success. There were six or eight on board the Vigilancia, who had been on a visit to their North American homes during the summer season, at which time the fever is most to be dreaded here.
The city contains over sixty churches, some of which are fine edifices, built of stone brought from Europe. This could easily be done without much extra expense, as the vessels visiting the port in those early days required ballast with which to cross the ocean. They brought no other cargo of any account, but were sure at certain seasons of the year to obtain a suitable return freight, which paid a good profit on the round voyage. Several of these churches are in a very dilapidated condition, and probably will not be repaired. The cathedral is one of the largest structures of the sort in Brazil, and is thought by many to be one of the finest. The cathedral at Rio, however, is a much more elaborate structure, and far more costly. It takes enormous sums, wrung from the poorest class of people, to maintain these gorgeous temples and support the horde of fat, licentious, useless priests attached to them, while the mass of humanity find life a daily struggle with abject want and poverty. Does any thoughtful person believe for one moment that such hollow service can be grateful to a just and merciful Supreme Being?
Bahia was a flourishing port before Rio Janeiro was known commercially, and was the first place of settlement by English traders on this coast. The present population is of a very mixed character, composed of nearly all nationalities, white and black, European and natives. There is no prejudice evinced as regards color. Mulatto or negro may once have been a slave, but he is a freeman now, both socially and in the eyes of the law. He is eligible for any position of trust, public or private, if he develops the requisite degree of intelligence. Men who have been slaves in their youth are now filling political offices here, with credit to themselves and satisfaction to the public. The actual reform from being a degraded land of slavery to one of human freedom is much more radical and thorough in Brazil than it is in our own Southern States, where the pretended equality of the colored race is simply a burlesque upon constitutional liberty.