Pedro II. is a lovable old humbug. Everybody regards the Emperor with a
feeling of reverence, and his character and motives are universally
respected; but he leaves the cares of State entirely to the direction of
his ministers and his half-brother, the Baron de Capanema, who has more
influence with the Cabinet than the Emperor himself. The old man is
wrapped up in philanthropic movements, and is
[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO PETROPOLIS.]
constantly engaged in doing something for the amelioration of his
fellow-men; but he is so easily imposed upon, and his ideas are so
impracticable, that not only are his efforts wasted, but a large amount
of money with which a great deal of good might be accomplished is
expended upon chimerical projects; and the only result is the
gratification that the Emperor enjoys in performing what he considers to
be a duty. He is credulous, ingenuous, and trustful, and no matter what
the reputation of the men who come to him with schemes is, he never
fails to be interested in anything that will tend to the improvement or
welfare of his people. He devotes almost his entire time to entertaining
impostors and developing schemes that are suggested to him by the people
who take advantage of his philanthropic disposition to accomplish their
own ends.
A little beyond the city of Petropolis is the imperial hacienda, which
is known as Santa Cruz. Here Dom Pedro II. used to live, but his
first-born and only son died in the palace, and since that time, which
was many years ago, neither he nor the Empress has ever entered its
walls. Some twenty years ago he devoted this hacienda, as he does almost
everything else, to philanthropy, and attempted a grand philanthropic
experiment which has demonstrated nothing but the Emperor’s own lack of
ability as a manager.
The Princess of Brazil has three children, two sons and a daughter; and
besides these the Emperor has three other grandchildren, orphans of a
deceased daughter, who live with their grandparents and are a great
source of comfort to the Emperor, who is very fond of children.
The Empress is a woman of rare traits, being noted for her womanliness,
her charity, and her lovely character; and those who became acquainted
with her while she was in the United States will remember her with the
greatest affection. There is nowhere in the world a couple more devoted
to each other, or with a kindlier disposition towards their
fellow-creatures, or having a more earnest desire to accomplish
something for the good of mankind, than Dom Pedro and the Empress. She
is much more practical in her charity than he, and it is said that she
frequently chides the Emperor for being so easily humbugged. The Empress
is a fine-looking old lady, with white hair and a kindly face. She has
not the force
[Illustration: THE EMPRESS OF BRAZIL.]
and energy of her daughter, but is of a more retiring disposition, and
prefers to interest herself in the affairs of the household rather than
in matters of State. Every week or so the Emperor gives a reception,
which is attended by all the nobility and by such strangers of
sufficient dignity to receive royal attention as happen to be in the
country. The Emperor is particularly fond of Americans, and he
considers the United States the model country of the world. He has
introduced into Brazil a great many ideas that he received during his
visit to this country, and has organized an Agricultural Department and
a Geological Survey, and several other branches of the Government, in
imitation of what he found in the United States.
The Emperor had a great friend in Dr. Gunning, who left a high place in
the medical college in Edinburgh about twenty years ago, and came to
Brazil for his health. He had an ample fortune, and determined to devote
his time and money to the abolition of slavery. With this object in view
he bought thirty-five or forty slaves and a tract of land. The negroes
for miles around him were earning large wages for their owners, but the
doctor had a theory that they would pay for themselves, and buy their
own emancipation, if they had an opportunity. So he commenced a system
of bookkeeping, charging each slave with his original cost and the
expense of his maintenance, and crediting him with the amount of labor
he performed. When the accounts balanced, the slave was to be set free.
But they never balanced.
Dr. Gunning impressed the Emperor with the great benefits of this
system, and succeeded in inducing him to adopt it on his plantation. But
the negroes are not fools. They understand very well that they are
better off with such masters as Dr. Gunning and the Emperor than they
would be in the condition of freedom, and they work so unprofitably, and
make the expenses of their maintenance so great, that they never yet
made enough in any one year to pay for their keeping.
The Emperor spends most of his time at Petropolis, and the only thing
that can induce him to visit the city of Rio is a debate in Congress on
the slavery question. It is nearly four centuries since Brazil was
discovered, and it has always been governed by the same family. This
part of the continent was given to the Portuguese by the Pope. When they
began to quarrel with the Spaniards over the possession of the
discoveries in America, the Pope drew a line along the sixty-fifth
parallel of longitude and decided that the Portuguese should have all
that part of the world lying east, and the Spaniards all that part lying
west of it. Therefore Brazil became a viceroyalty of Portugal, and
remained so until 1807, when the two countries changed relations, Brazil
becoming the seat of government and Portugal becoming a colony. Portugal
temporized with Napoleon, and when he made a raid upon that nation the
royal family of Briganza took a step which astonished all Europe. In
order to save the nation from the bloodshed and devastation that
followed Napoleon’s avarice, Dom Joao fled from Lisbon to Rio, and left
Napoleon in peaceable possession of Portugal.
[Illustration: DOM PEDRO’S PALACE AT PETROPOLIS.]
For many years Joao preferred to remain in Rio de Janeiro, and govern
his subjects with delegated power. Finally, Napoleon having vanished
from the face of Europe, the Emperor returned to Lisbon, leaving his
son, Dom Pedro I., upon the throne of Brazil; but the people were ill
satisfied with this, and a bloodless revolution soon after occurred, in
which Dom Pedro I. was compelled to abdicate, and in 1831 he fled to
Portugal, leaving his son, Dom Pedro II., then a boy of fifteen, as
Emperor, who governed through a regency until he became of age. His
authority has been recognized in Brazil ever since, and he is loved by
the people as few monarchs have ever been.
The Emperor’s power is limited, and is infinitely less than that of any
of the Presidents of the South American republics. He has the right to
veto acts of the national legislature, but it requires only a majority
vote to override it, so that it practically amounts to nothing. The
senators are elected for life, are endowed with titles, and their duties
are similar to those of the peers of Great Britain. The Emperor receives
from the State an income of four hundred thousand dollars per annum, but
he is a poor economist, and spends it all, the greater part in mistaken
charity.
There is a small party called Republican, which proposes to unseat the
Emperor, do away with all the titles and all insignia of royalty and
nobility, and to take, as the rest of the South Americans have done,
“the great republic of the north” for its example. In theory they are
for upsetting the throne and tumbling the Emperor off, but they
recognize his goodness and benevolence, and have the wisdom to see that
they are a great deal better off under the administration of such a man
than under a President who would be an autocrat. When the Emperor dies
Brazil will become a republic. The Liberal party believe in republican
principles; and the ideas of civil and religious liberty have so
permeated the people, from the nobles to the slaves, that it will be
impossible to continue the empire under the daughter of Dom Pedro when
she comes to inherit the throne.
The Emperor had but one son, and his only living child is the Princess
Isabella, wife of the Count D’Eu, a grandson of Louis Philippe, a cousin
of the Count of Paris, and a Prince of the House of Orleans. This French
husband of the Brazilian princess is said to be an uncommonly good
fellow, and a man of considerable ability. He holds the rank of
major-general in the army, and is an aide-de-camp, or grand marshall,
under the Emperor. The princess and her husband live in the city of Rio
de Janeiro in a very ordinary way, the palace they occupy and their
style of living being a great deal inferior to that of many merchants
and foreign residents of the country. They have a plantation near
Petropolis, and spend the unhealthy seasons of the year at that place.
The princess is now about thirty-five or forty years of age, and takes a
great deal more interest in the affairs of State than her distinguished
father. She is far from being good-looking, and is rather masculine in
disposition. She has intelligence and firmness, and is often compared to
Queen Elizabeth. During the absence of the Emperor in the United States
and Europe in 1876 and 1877, she assumed his authority, and upset
matters so generally that she brought on a revolution that would have
overturned the empire entirely had it not been suppressed in time.
In dealing with this outbreak she showed an ability and determination
that gave her a great reputation among political leaders; but the
condition of Brazil is changing so rapidly that by the time the princess
comes to the throne by the death of her father, the Liberal element will
be so large and powerful that they will prevent her from assuming
authority. If her character and disposition were other than they are she
might be tolerated on the throne; but their experience with her during
her father’s absence has taught the people that she is not such a ruler
as they want, and the contrast between her rigorous rule and the
political indifference of the Emperor is so great as to aggravate the
dislike of the people for her. In addition to this, the princess is a
great Church-woman, and attends mass every morning in her house, spends
a great deal of time in religious devotion, supports a large retinue of
priests and friars, who are said to be the only people who have any
influence with her, and does a great deal to strengthen the Catholic
Church in Brazil.
The Emperor does not seem to know of the unpopularity of his daughter.
He does not seem to be aware that she possesses traits and a disposition
in striking contrast with his own. With that generous charity with which
he regards all human beings, he believes that she is as liberal-minded
and as philanthropic as himself, and his dreams are never disturbed by
any thought of what may occur after his death.
As everywhere else in South America, the Liberal element in Brazil has
been making an active war against the Roman Catholic Church, and as long
ago as 1870 a law was passed abolishing monastic institutions in the
empire; but that legislation was more liberal than that passed and
carried out in other South American countries, for it gave the religious
orders ten years in which to dispose of their property and close up
their affairs. This period expired in 1880, and very little has been
done by the monks and nuns towards complying with the law. In 1881 an
attempt was made to forcibly close their institutions, but an appeal was
made to the courts, and it was only recently that a decision was
rendered sustaining the constitutionality of the act of Congress and
imposing a tax upon all real estate owned by the religious orders, and
proceedings were commenced to confiscate and sell their property for the
non-payment of taxes.
The religious orders refused to recognize the right of the civil power
to dispose of their property. They claim that the Pope alone has
authority over it; and their writers fill the papers with thrilling
accounts of what terrible visitations have fallen upon all those who
have taken the property of the Church, or in any way acquired real
estate which once belonged to it, in other lands.
It may be said, however, that the general public takes very little
interest in the dispute. There is no affection or respect felt for the
monastic orders, which are in a condition of
[Illustration: THE COLORED SAINT.]
decay, and their approaching extinction by the death of the few monks
and nuns remaining is viewed with indifference; but the clergy take a
different view of the case. They expect to inherit the revenues derived
from the Church property, and they do not want to see it pass into the
hands of private parties. Until ten or twelve years ago the political
leaders encouraged the superstitious observances of the Church in order
to secure the loyalty of the priesthood, but the growth of Liberal
sentiment has been so great that the Church has been robbed of the
terror it formerly inspired and of the influence which it possessed, and
there has been much encouragement given to Protestants who have come
into the country and engaged in missionary work.
One of the great holidays in Brazil is the feast of St. George, the
patron of the empire. Each city and province has a sort of deputy
patron, whose worship is duly celebrated on a particular day. Saint
Sebastian has charge of the city of Rio de Janeiro, and in his honor a
celebration is held once a year; but when the annual feast of St. George
returns, every town and village from the northern to the southern
boundary of the country has the grandest procession and demonstration of
the season. This is not the same St. George who is supposed to have
formerly had England under his protection, but an entirely different
individual. Formerly this saint held the rank of colonel in the army,
and was entitled to a yearly pay of thirty-five thousand dollars, which
the priests drew for him and pretended to invest in jewels and dresses.
A few years ago he used to be taken through the streets on horseback on
his anniversary day, surrounded by a bodyguard--a regiment composed of
the greatest swells of Rio de Janeiro, who acknowledged him as their
commander, and were known as the “Imperial Order of St. George.” An old
resident told me about an instance that occurred some years ago, when
the attendant who had charge of the image buckled Colonel St. George’s
sword on so carelessly that it dropped from his belt and wounded a
priest. The aide-de-camp and the saint were both tried for the offence,
and both found guilty. The officer was punished with imprisonment, and
the saint fined a large portion of his salary.
The anniversary of Corpus Christi is always celebrated with great pomp
in Rio, and with a procession which marches through the principal
streets. At its head is usually carried an effigy of the Saviour,
preceded by bands of singing priests and bearers of incense, and covered
with a canopy carried by the Emperor and the Count D’Eu, his son-in-law,
and the principal ministers of state. The participation of the
[Illustration: STATUE OF DOM PEDRO I.]
Emperor in this ceremony has existed from time immemorial, and is
supposed to illustrate the obedience of the civil to the ecclesiastical
power; but Dom Pedro hates the nonsense, and last year he declined to
participate.
The money used in Brazil is liable to give a stranger the nightmare.
Imagine yourself presented with a bill for thirty thousand reis after
eating a dinner and drinking a bottle of wine at a café. One is apt to
indulge in some expressions of astonishment, even if he is too honest to
attempt an escape by the back door. But composure is restored when it is
discovered that a “reis” is worth only the twentieth part of a cent, and
at the present discount of Brazilian money such a bill amounts only to
about seven dollars.
The book-keepers of Brazil have a hard time of it, however, as the reis
is the standard value, and the long lines of figures which represent the
commercial transactions of the ordinary mercantile or banking house each
day are a severe tax upon the mathematical accuracy and ability of the
people. For example, $1,000,000 equals about 4,000,000,000 reis, and the
paper currency of Brazil represents 488,000,000,000 reis. The commercial
statistics of Brazil look very formidable; but the people simplify
matters somewhat by using the term millreis, which means a thousand
reis.
The currency of the country consists of irredeemable paper shinplasters,
the smallest denomination being five hundred reis, which is equal to
about thirteen cents in gold. Nickel and copper coins are used for
change below that sum, the reis being a very minute disk of copper.
There is no gold or silver in circulation; and as the balance of trade
has been largely against Brazil of recent years, there is not coin
enough in the country to pay the interest on the public debt, and the
bondholders are given bills on London.
There is no wharfage at any of the Brazilian ports; vessels are
compelled to anchor out in the harbors, which are usually good, and be
loaded and unloaded by means of lighters. Passengers are carried to and
fro in _bongoes_, managed by a noisy and naked boatman, who inspires
alarm in the breast of the nervous passenger, who imagines this gang of
savage-looking maniacs are cannibals howling for his blood. The wardrobe
of a bongo usually consists of a dilapidated straw hat and a pair of
cotton drawers amputated at the thighs. These drawers are a degree
farther from decency than the bathing-trunks small boys wear at the
sea-side. The bongoes are shrewd fellows, and make bargains easily, but
are hard to settle with when the work is done. They agree to take you
and your trunk ashore for a dollar, but when you reach the custom-house
they demand twice as much, with an additional dollar for Pippo, who
helped carry the trunk down the gangway. People who remain on the vessel
amuse themselves by throwing small coins into the water for the boatmen
to dive after. If you toss a silver quarter overboard, a dozen or more
will plunge after it, and one of them will have it in his mouth before
it reaches the bottom.
[Illustration: CARRYING COFFEE TO THE STEAMER.]
[Illustration: MARKET-PLACE IN COUNTRY TOWN.]
The most noticeable thing that strikes one when he lands at one of the
Brazilian ports is the extraordinary economy observed in the matter of
wearing apparel. The children in the streets up to eight or ten years
are usually entirely naked, playing in groups around the door-ways, and
in the corners sheltered from the sun. Nearly every woman you meet has a
big basket of something or other on her head, or a naked baby in her
arms; the number of babies to be seen at the windows or in the streets
is astonishing. The yellow-fever and other epidemics carry off a large
percentage of the population every summer, but the increase from natural
causes more than keeps pace with the mortality. When the girls get to be
eight or ten years of age they put on a white cotton tunic, which hangs
loosely from the shoulders, and the women wear a plain white chemise,
with the arms and shoulders bare. The boys and men have cotton trousers
or drawers, and, if they are prosperous, add a speckled shirt to their
wardrobe, which hangs loosely over the pantaloons, and flaps in the
breeze with cheerful _négligé_. A society for the encouragement of
modesty among the men, women, and children of Brazil would find a
fruitful field for missionary work. They act and live like animals; but
the younger women show some sense of shame, and gather their scanty
drapery around them as the stranger passes. Among their own kind they
are as regardless of the proprieties of civilization as the mangy dogs
which stretch out in the sun at their feet. The priests, under whose
control they yield an absolute submission, and whose authority here is
even greater than in Rome, are said to teach no lessons of chastity or
modesty, but to practise a licentiousness which makes one shudder when
he hears common anecdotes told.
The sun always rises and sets very suddenly in the tropics. There is no
“rosy blush of morn to herald the coming of a newborn day,” and so on,
nor is there a gorgeous glow in the west when the twilight comes; but
old Sol gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night without any
ceremony, and with a startling suddenness. You awaken at the noise of
carts in the street, find it dark as midnight, with the stars more
brilliant than you ever saw them at home, turn over, doze a little, and
in a few moments jump up, supposing it to be noonday. The sun jumps into
the air out of the darkness and drops below the horizon as if he had
been shot. There are only two periods in the twenty-four hours--midnight
and high noon. There is gas in most of the large towns, but it is seldom
used in any except the finest modern residences. Candles or kerosene
lamps throw light upon domestic circles, but there are always plenty of
gas-lamps in the streets, and they light them in an odd way. One fellow
goes ahead with a long stick and turns on the gas; another follows him
with a torch and gives it light. Sometimes the latter stops to gossip on
the corner, and the consequence is a strong odor of gas all over the
town.
On every block is a policeman or watchman, whose business
[Illustration: “SERENO-O-O-O-O-O! SERENO-O-O-O-O-O!”]
is to sing out at certain intervals to inform the inhabitants what
o’clock it is, and that all is well. Like the fakirs in the streets
during the day, they have a most melancholy tone in their voices, and to
the stranger their announcements sound like the cry of a lost
soul--“Sereno-o-o-o-o-o; Sereno-o-o-o-o-o; Las diez y media y
Sereno-o-o-o-o-o!”
The text-books on oratory that were used in old times gave the statement
that Demosthenes could make an audience weep or laugh at will by simply
uttering “Mesopotamia,” but he could not have put more pathos, more
lingering agony, than the tropical policemen in these simple
words--“All’s serene; all’s serene! It is a day and a half-midnight, and
all’s serene!”
The stranger never fails to hear these announcements, for two very good
reasons; first, because his bed is as hard as the racks upon which the
Roman tyrants used to torture early Christians; and, second, it is
always occupied by a colony of the most vigorous pests that ever drank
human blood. At the hotels all the servants are men. They do the work of
chamber-maids, cooks, porters, and dining-room waiters, wash the dishes,
and everything but washing and ironing.
The Brazilian rises early in the morning, to do the greater part of his
work in the cool of the day. He drinks a cup of strong coffee, eats a
roll, and perhaps an egg, and then goes to his store or office, from
which he returns at twelve to his breakfast--the most elaborate meal of
the day. It begins with soup and ends with cheese, dulces, and coffee,
like the dinner of the temperate zone. He has a fish, a chop or steak,
an omelette, and a salad, but no vegetables. Then he lies down for a
nap, after which, about four o’clock, he returns to business, and
remains often as late as eight or nine o’clock. His dinner is a
repetition of his breakfast, except that he has vegetables and a roast
or fowl. He takes a walk in the plaza with his family after dinner and
retires early, if he does not go to the club or gaming-table. The people
are inveterate gamblers. There is no more disgrace attached to
attendance upon the faro-table or the roulette-board than attends stock
gambling in New York. He calls upon the Holy Mother when he tosses his
chips upon the cards, and says an “Ave Maria” when he wins a stake. At
every religious festival the cathedrals and churches are surrounded by
gambling-booths, and the priests always go to the cock-fights after high
mass on Sunday. Some of them breed game chickens, and carry them to the
pit under their priestly robes.
[Illustration: SLAVE QUARTERS IN THE COUNTRY.]