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A WOMAN'S JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD, from Vienna to Brazil, Chili,
Tahiti, China, Hindostan, Persia, and Asia Minor.
BY IDA PFEIFFER.
An unabridged translation from the German.
PREFACE.
I have been called, in many of the public journals, a "professed
tourist;" but I am sorry to say that I have no title to the
appellation in its usual sense. On the one hand I possess too
little wit and humour to render my writings amusing; and, on the
other, too little knowledge to judge rightly of what I have gone
through. The only gift to which I can lay claim is that of
narrating in a simple manner the different scenes in which I have
played a part, and the different objects I have beheld; if I ever
pronounce an opinion, I do so merely on my own personal experience.
Many will perhaps believe that I undertook so long a journey from
vanity. I can only say in answer to this--whoever thinks so should
make such a trip himself, in order to gain the conviction, that
nothing but a natural wish for travel, a boundless desire of
acquiring knowledge, could ever enable a person to overcome the
hardships, privations, and dangers to which I have been exposed.
In exactly the same manner as the artist feels an invincible desire
to paint, and the poet to give free course to his thoughts, so was I
hurried away with an unconquerable wish to see the world. In my
youth I dreamed of travelling--in my old age I find amusement in
reflecting on what I have beheld.
The public received very favourably my plain unvarnished account of
"A Voyage to the Holy Land, and to Iceland and Scandinavia."
Emboldened by their kindness, I once more step forward with the
journal of my last and most considerable voyage, and I shall feel
content if the narration of my adventures procures for my readers
only a portion of the immense fund of pleasure derived from the
voyage by
THE AUTHORESS.
Vienna, March 16, 1850.
With the hope that we may forward the views of the authoress, and be
the means of exciting the public attention to her position and
wants, we append the following statement by Mr. A. Petermann, which
appeared in the Athenaeum of the 6th of December, 1851:
"Madame Pfeiffer came to London last April, with the intention of
undertaking a fresh journey; her love of travelling appearing not
only unabated, but even augmented by the success of her journey
round the world. She had planned, as her fourth undertaking, a
journey to some of those portions of the globe which she had not yet
visited--namely, Australia and the islands of the Asiatic
Archipelago; intending to proceed thither by the usual route round
the Cape. Her purpose was, however, changed while in London. The
recently discovered Lake Ngami, in Southern Africa, and the
interesting region to the north, towards the equator--the reflection
how successfully she had travelled among savage tribes, where armed
men hesitated to penetrate, how well she had borne alike the cold of
Iceland and the heat of Babylonia--and lastly, the suggestion that
she might be destined to raise the veil from some of the totally
unknown portions of the interior of Africa--made her determine on
stopping at the Cape, and trying to proceed thence, if possible,
northwards into the equatorial regions of the African Continent.
"Madame Pfeiffer left for the Cape, on the 22nd of May last, in a
sailing vessel--her usual mode of travelling by sea, steamboats
being too expensive. She arrived safely at Cape Town on the 11th of
August, as I learned from a letter which I received from her last
week, dated the 20th of August. From that letter the following are
extracts:--
"'The impression which this place (Cape Town) made on me, was not an
agreeable one. The mountains surrounding the town are bare, the
town itself (London being still fresh in my recollection) resembles
a village. The houses are of only one story, with terraces instead
of roofs. From the deck of the vessel a single tree was visible,
standing on a hill. In short, on my arrival I was at once much
disappointed, and this disappointment rather increases than
otherwise. In the town the European mode of living is entirely
prevalent--more so than in any other place abroad that I have seen.
I have made a good many inquiries as to travelling into the
interior; and have been, throughout, assured that the natives are
everywhere kindly disposed to travellers, and that as a woman I
should be able to penetrate much farther than a man,--and I have
been strongly advised to undertake a journey as far as the unknown
lakes, and even beyond. Still, with all these splendid prospects
and hopes, I fear I shall travel less in this country than in any
other. Here, the first thing you are told is, that you must
purchase waggons, oxen, horses, asses,--hire expensive guides, etc.,
etc. How far should I reach in this way with my 100 pounds
sterling? I will give you an example of the charges in this
country:--for the carriage of my little luggage to my lodgings I had
to pay 10s. 6d.! I had previously landed in what I thought the most
expensive places in the world--London, Calcutta, Canton, etc.--had
everywhere a much greater distance to go from the vessel to my
lodgings, and nowhere had I paid half of what they charged me here.
Board and lodging I have also found very dear. Fortunately, I have
been very kindly received into the house of Mr. Thaewitzer, the
Hamburgh consul, where I live, very agreeably, but do not much
advance the object which brought me here. I shall, in the course of
the month, undertake a short journey with some Dutch boers to Klein
Williams; and I fear that this will form the beginning and the end
of my travels in this country.'
"From these extracts it will be seen that the resolute lady has at
her command but very slender means for the performance of her
journeys. The sum of 100 pounds, which was granted to her by the
Austrian government, forms the whole of her funds. Private
resources she has none. It took her twenty years to save enough
money to perform her first journey!--namely, that to the Holy Land.
While in London, she received scarcely any encouragement; and her
works were not appreciated by the public, or indeed known, till she
had left this country. It is to be regretted that the want of a
little pecuniary assistance should deter the enterprising lady from
carrying out her projected journey in Southern Africa. Though not a
scientific traveller, she is a faithful recorder of what she sees
and hears; and she is prepared to note the bearings and distances of
the journey, make meteorological observations, and keep a careful
diary--so that the results of her projected journey would perhaps be
of as much interest as those of other travellers of greater
pretensions."
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. THE VOYAGE TO THE BRAZILS.
CHAPTER II. ARRIVAL AND SOJOURN IN RIO JANEIRO.
CHAPTER III. EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF RIO JANEIRO.
CHAPTER IV. JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR OF THE BRAZILS.
CHAPTER V. THE VOYAGE ROUND CAPE HORN.
CHAPTER VI. ARRIVAL AND RESIDENCE IN VALPARAISO.
CHAPTER VII. THE VOYAGE FROM VALPARAISO TO CANTON, VIA TAHITI.
CHAPTER VIII. CHINA.
CHAPTER IX. THE EAST INDIES--SINGAPORE.
CHAPTER X. THE EAST INDIES--CEYLON.
CHAPTER XI. MADRAS AND CALCUTTA.
CHAPTER XII. BENARES.
CHAPTER XIII. ALLAHABAD, AGRA, AND DELHI.
CHAPTER XIV. JOURNEY FROM DELHI TO BOMBAY.
CHAPTER XV. JOURNEY FROM DELHI TO BOMBAY, CONTINUED.
CHAPTER XVI. CONTINUATION OF JOURNEY AND SOJOURN.
CHAPTER XVII. FROM BOMBAY TO BAGHDAD.
CHAPTER XVIII. MESOPOTAMIA, BAGHDAD, AND BABYLON.
CHAPTER XIX. MOSUL AND NINEVEH.
CHAPTER XX. PERSIA.
CHAPTER XXI. SOJOURN IN TEBRIS.
CHAPTER XXII. ASIATIC RUSSIA--ARMENIA, GEORGIA, AND MINGRELIA.
CHAPTER XXIII. EUROPEAN RUSSIA.
CHAPTER XXIV. CONSTANTINOPLE AND ATHENS.
CHAPTER I. THE VOYAGE TO THE BRAZILS.
DEPARTURE FROM VIENNA--STAY IN HAMBURGH--STEAMERS AND SAILING
VESSELS--DEPARTURE FROM HAMBURGH--CUXHAVEN--THE BRITISH CHANNEL--
FLYING-FISH--THE PHISOLIDA--CONSTELLATIONS--PASSING THE LINE--THE
"VAMPEROS"--A GALE AND STORM--CAPE FRIO--ARRIVAL IN THE PORT OF RIO
JANEIRO.
On the first of May, 1846, I left Vienna, and, with the exception of
slight stoppages at Prague, Dresden, and Leipsic, proceeded directly
to Hamburgh, there to embark for the Brazils. In Prague I had the
pleasure of meeting Count Berchthold, who had accompanied me during
a portion of my journey in the East. He informed me that he should
like to be my companion in the voyage to the Brazils, and I promised
to wait for him in Hamburgh.
I had a second most interesting meeting on the steamer from Prague
to Dresden, namely, with the widow of Professor Mikan. In the year
1817, this lady had, on the occasion of the marriage of the Austrian
Princess Leopaldine with Don Pedro I., followed her husband to the
Brazils, and afterwards made with him a scientific journey into the
interior of the country.
I had often heard this lady's name mentioned, and my joy at making
her personal acquaintance was very great. In the kindest and most
amiable manner she communicated to me the results of her long
experience, and added advice and rules of conduct, which proved
afterwards highly useful.
I arrived in Hamburgh on the 12th of May; and, as early as the 13th,
might have embarked on board a fine fast-sailing brig, which,
besides, was christened the "Ida," like myself. With a heavy heart
I saw this fine vessel set sail. I was obliged to remain behind, as
I had promised my travelling companion to await his arrival. Week
after week elapsed, with nothing but the fact of my staying with my
relatives to lighten the dreariness of suspense; at last, about the
middle of June, the Count came, and shortly afterwards we found a
vessel--a Danish brig, the "Caroline," Captain Bock, bound for Rio
Janeiro.
I had now before me a long voyage, which could not be made under two
months at the least, and which, possibly, might last three or four.
Luckily I had already lived for a considerable period on board
sailing vessels during my former travels, and was therefore
acquainted with their arrangements, which are very different from
those of steamers. On board a steamer everything is agreeable and
luxurious; the vessel pursues her rapid course independent of the
wind, and the passengers enjoy good and fresh provisions, spacious
cabins, and excellent society.
In sailing vessels all this is very different, as, with the
exception of the large East Indiamen, they are not fitted up for
passengers. In them the cargo is looked upon as the principal
thing, and in the eyes of the crew passengers are a troublesome
addition, whose comfort is generally very little studied. The
captain is the only person who takes any interest in them, since a
third or even the half of the passage-money falls to his share.
The space, too, is so confined, that you can hardly turn yourself
round in the sleeping cabins, while it is quite impossible to stand
upright in the berths. Besides this, the motion of a sailing vessel
is much stronger than that of a steamer; on the latter, however,
many affirm that the eternal vibration, and the disagreeable odour
of the oil and coals, are totally insupportable. For my own part, I
never found this to be the case; it certainly is unpleasant, but
much easier to bear than the many inconveniences always existing on
board a sailing vessel. The passenger is there a complete slave to
every whim or caprice of the captain, who is an absolute sovereign
and holds uncontrolled sway over everything. Even the food depends
upon his generosity, and although it is generally not absolutely
bad, in the best instances, it is not equal to that on board a
steamer.
The following form the ordinary diet: tea and coffee without milk,
bacon and junk, soup made with pease or cabbage, potatoes, hard
dumplings, salted cod, and ship-biscuit. On rare occasions, ham,
eggs, fish, pancakes, or even skinny fowls, are served out. It is
very seldom, in small ships, that bread can be procured.
To render the living more palatable, especially on a long voyage,
passengers would do well to take with them a few additions to the
ship's fare. The most suitable are: portable soup and captain's
biscuit--both of which should be kept in tin canisters to preserve
them from mouldiness and insects--a good quantity of eggs, which,
when the vessel is bound for a southern climate, should first be
dipped in strong lime-water or packed in coal-dust; rice, potatoes,
sugar, butter, and all the ingredients for making sangaree and
potato-salad, the former being very strengthening and the latter
very cooling. I would strongly recommend those who have children
with them to take a goat as well.
As regards wine, passengers should take especial care to ask the
captain whether this is included in the passage-money, otherwise it
will have to be purchased from him at a very high rate.
There are also other objects which must not be forgotten, and above
all a mattress, bolster, and counterpane, as the berths are
generally unfurnished. These can be purchased very cheaply in any
seaport town.
Besides this, it is likewise advisable to take a stock of coloured
linen. The office of washerwoman is filled by a sailor, so that it
may easily be imagined that the linen does not return from the wash
in the best possible condition.
When the sailors are employed in shifting the sails, great care must
be taken to avoid injury by the falling of any of the ropes. But
all these inconveniences are comparatively trifling; the greatest
amount of annoyance begins towards the end of the voyage. The
captain's mistress is his ship. At sea he allows her to wear an
easy neglige, but in port she must appear in full dress. Not a sign
of the long voyage, of the storms, of the glowing heat she has
suffered, must be visible. Then begins an incessant hammering,
planing, and sawing; every flaw, every crack or injury is made good,
and, to wind up, the whole vessel is painted afresh. The worst of
all, however, is the hammering when the cracks in the deck are being
repaired and filled up with pitch. This is almost unbearable.
But enough of annoyances. I have described them merely to prepare,
in some degree, those who have never been to sea. Persons residing
in sea-port towns do not, perhaps, stand in need of this, for they
hear these matters mentioned every day; but such is not the case
with us poor souls, who have lived all our lives in inland cities.
Very often we hardly know how a steamer or a sailing vessel looks,
much less the mode of life on board them. I speak from experience,
and know too well what I myself suffered on my first voyage, simply
because, not having been warned beforehand, I took nothing with me
save a small stock of linen and clothes.
At present I will proceed with the progress of my voyage. We
embarked on the evening of the 28th of June, and weighed anchor
before daybreak of the 29th. The voyage did not commence in any
very encouraging manner; we had very little, in fact almost no wind
at all, and compared to us every pedestrian appeared to be running a
race: we made the nine miles to Blankenese in seven hours.
Luckily the slow rate at which we proceeded was not so disagreeable,
as, at first, for a considerable period we beheld the magnificent
port, and afterwards could admire, on the Holstein side, the
beautiful country houses of the rich Hamburghers, situated upon
charming eminences and surrounded by lovely gardens. The opposite
side, belonging to Hanover, is as flat and monotonous as the other
is beautiful. About here the Elbe, in many places, is from three to
four miles broad.
Before reaching Blankenese the ships take in their stock of water
from the Elbe. This water, although of a dirty and thick
appearance, is said to possess the valuable quality of resisting
putridity for years.
We did not reach Gluckstadt (37 miles from Hamburgh) before the
morning of the 30th. As there was not now a breath of wind, we were
entirely at the mercy of the stream, and began drifting back. The
captain, therefore, ordered the men to cast anchor, and profited by
the leisure thus forced upon him to have the chests and boxes made
fast on the deck and in the hold. We idlers had permission granted
us to land and visit the town, in which, however, we found but
little to admire.
There were eight passengers on board. The four cabin places were
taken by Count B--, myself, and two young people who hoped to make
their fortune sooner in the Brazils than in Europe. The price of a
passage in the first cabin was 100 dollars (20 pounds 16s. 8d.), and
in the steerage 50 dollars (10 pounds 8s. 4d.).
In the steerage, besides two worthy tradesmen, was a poor old woman
who was going, in compliance with the wish of her only son, who had
settled in the Brazils, to join him there, and a married woman whose
husband had been working as a tailor for the last six years in Rio
Janeiro. People soon become acquainted on board ship, and generally
endeavour to agree as well as possible, in order to render the
monotony of a long voyage at all supportable.
On the 1st of July we again set sail in rather stormy weather. We
made a few miles, but were soon obliged to cast anchor once more.
The Elbe is here so wide, that we could hardly see its banks, and
the swell so strong, that sea-sickness began to manifest itself
among our company. On the 2nd of July, we again attempted to weigh
anchor, but with no better success than the day before. Towards
evening we saw some dolphins, called also _tummler_, or tumblers, as
well as several gulls, which announced to us that we were fast
nearing the sea.
A great many vessels passed quickly by us. Ah! they could turn to
account the storm and wind which swelled out their sails, and drove
them rapidly towards the neighbouring port. We grudged them their
good fortune; and perhaps we had to thank this specimen of Christian
love on our part, that on the 3rd of July, we had not got further
than Cuxhaven, seventy-four miles from Hamburgh.
The 4th of July was a beautifully fine day, for those who could
remain quietly on shore; but for those on board ship it was bad
enough, as there was not the slightest breath of wind stirring. To
get rid of our lamentations, the captain launched out in praises of
the charming little town, and had us conveyed to land. We visited
the town, as well as the bathing establishment and the lighthouse,
and afterwards actually proceeded as far as a place called the
"Bush," where, as we were told, we should find a great abundance of
strawberries. After wandering about, over fields and meadows, for a
good hour in the glowing heat, we found the Bush, it is true, but
instead of strawberries, discovered only frogs and adders there.
We now proceeded into the scanty wood, where we saw about twenty
tents erected. A bustling landlord came up, and offering us some
glasses of bad milk, said that every year a fair is held in the Bush
for three weeks, or rather, on three successive Sundays, for during
the week days the booths are closed. The landlady also came
tripping towards us, and invited us, in a very friendly manner, to
spend the next Sunday with them. She assured us that we should
"amuse ourselves charmingly;" that we elder members of the company
should find entertainment in the wonderful performances of the
tumblers and jugglers, and the younger gentlemen find spruce young
girls for partners in the dance.
We expressed ourselves much pleased at this invitation, promised to
be sure to come, and then extended our walk to Ritzebuttel, where we
admired a small castle and a miniature park.
5th July. Nothing is so changeable as the weather: yesterday we
were revelling in sunshine, and today we were surrounded by a thick,
dark fog; and yet this, bad as it was, we found more agreeable than
the fine weather of the day before, for a slight breeze sprang up,
and at nine o'clock in the morning, we heard the rattling of the
capstan, as the anchor was being weighed. In consequence of this,
the young people were obliged to give up the idea of an excursion to
the Bush, and defer all dancing with pretty girls until their
arrival in another hemisphere, for it was fated that they should not
set foot in Europe again.
The transition from the Elbe to the North Sea is scarcely
perceptible, as the Elbe is not divided into different channels, but
is eight or ten miles broad at its mouth. It almost forms a small
sea of itself, and has even the green hue of one. We were,
consequently, very much surprised, on hearing the captain exclaim,
in a joyful tone, "We are out of the river at last." We imagined
that we had long since been sailing upon the wide ocean.
In the afternoon, we bore in sight of the island of Heligoland,
which belongs to the English, and presented really a magical
appearance, as it rose out from the sea. It is a barren, colossal
rock; and had I not learned, from one of the newest works on
geography, that it was peopled by about 2,500 souls, I should have
supposed the whole island to have been uninhabited. On three sides,
the cliffs rise so precipitously from the waves, that all access is
impossible.
We sailed by the place at a considerable distance, and saw only the
towers of the church and lighthouse, in addition to the so-called
"Monk," a solitary, perpendicular rock, that is separated from the
main body, between which and it there sparkles a small strip of sea.
The inhabitants are very poor. The only sources of their livelihood
are fishing and bathing visitors. A great number of the latter come
every year, as the bathing, on account of the extraordinary swell,
is reckoned extremely efficacious. Unfortunately, great fears are
entertained that this watering-place cannot exist much longer, as
every year the island decreases in size, from the continual falling
away of large masses of rock, so that some day the whole place may
disappear into the sea.
From the 5th to the 10th of July, we had continued stormy and cold
weather, with a heavy sea, and great rolling of the ship. All we
poor "land-lubbers" were suffering from sea sickness. We first
entered the British Channel, also called "La Manche" (420 miles from
Cuxhaven) in the night of the 10-11th.
We awaited with impatience the rising of the sun, which would
display to our gaze two of the mightiest powers in Europe. Luckily,
the day was fine and clear, and the two kingdoms lay before us, in
such magnificence and proximity, that the beholder was almost
inclined to believe that a sister people inhabited both countries.
On the coast of England, we saw the North Foreland, the Castle of
Sandown, and the town of Deal, stretching out at the foot of the
cliffs, which extend for many miles, and are about 150 feet high.
Further on, we came in sight of the South Foreland; and lastly, the
ancient castle of Dover, that sits right bravely enthroned upon an
eminence, and overlooks the surrounding country, far and wide. The
town itself lies upon the sea-shore.
Opposite Dover, at the narrowest part of the channel, we
distinguished, on the French coast, Cape Grisnez, where Napoleon
erected a small building, in order, it is said, to be at least able
to see England; and, further on, the obelisk raised in memory of the
camp at Boulogne, by Napoleon, but completed under Louis Philippe.
The wind being unfavourable, we were obliged, during the night, to
tack in the neighbourhood of Dover. The great darkness which
covered both land and sea rendered this maneuvre a very dangerous
one; firstly, on account of the proximity of the coast; and,
secondly, on account of the number of vessels passing up and down
the channel. To avoid a collision, we hung out a lantern on the
foremast, while, from time to time, a torch was lighted, and held
over the side, and the bell frequently kept sounding: all very
alarming occurrences to a person unused to the sea.
For fourteen days were we prisoners in the 360 miles of the Channel,
remaining very often two or three days, as if spell-bound, in the
same place, while we were frequently obliged to cruise for whole
days to make merely a few miles; and near Start we were overtaken by
a tolerably violent storm. During the night I was suddenly called
upon deck. I imagined that some misfortune had happened, and
hastily throwing a few clothes on, hurried up--to enjoy the
astonishing spectacle of a "sea-fire." In the wake of the vessel I
behold a streak of fire so strong that it would have been easy to
read by its light; the water round the ship looked like a glowing
stream of lava, and every wave, as it rose up, threw out sparks of
fire. The track of the fish was surrounded by dazzling inimitable
brilliancy, and far and wide everything was one dazzling
coruscation.
This extraordinary illumination of the sea is of very unfrequent
occurrence, and rarely happens after long-continued, violent storms.
The captain told me that he had never yet beheld the sea so lighted
up. For my part, I shall never forget the sight.
A second, and hardly less beautiful, spectacle came under our
observation at another time, when, after a storm, the clouds, gilt
by the rays of the sun, were reflected as in a mirror on the bosom
of the sea. They glittered and shone with an intensity of colour
which surpassed even those of the rainbow.
We had full leisure to contemplate Eddystone Lighthouse, which is
the most celebrated building of the kind in Europe, as we were
cruising about for two days in sight of it. Its height, and the
boldness and strength with which it is built, are truly wonderful;
but still more wonderful is its position upon a dangerous reef,
situated ten miles from the coast; at a distance, it seems to be
founded in the sea itself.
We often sailed so near the coast of Cornwall, that not only could
we plainly perceive every village, but even the people in the
streets and in the open country. The land is hilly and luxuriant,
and appears carefully cultivated.
During the whole time of our cruising in the Channel, the
temperature was cold and raw, the thermometer seldom being higher
than 65 to 75 degrees Fah.
At last, on the 24th of July, we came to the end of the Channel, and
attained the open sea; the wind was tolerably favourable, and on the
2nd of August we were off Gibraltar, where we were becalmed for
twenty-four hours. The captain threw several pieces of white
crockeryware, as well as a number of large bones overboard, to show
how beautifully green such objects appeared as they slowly sank down
beneath the sea; of course this can only be seen in a perfect calm.
In the evening we were greatly delighted by numbers of moluscae
shining through the water; they looked exactly like so many floating
stars, about the size of a man's hand; even by day we could perceive
them beneath the waves. They are of a brownish red, and in form
resemble a toadstool; many had a thick pedicle, somewhat fimbriated
on the under part; others, instead of the pedicle, had a number of
threads hanging down from them.
4th August. This was the first day that it was announced by the
heat that we were in a southern latitude; but, as was also the case
the following day, the clear dark blue sky that generally overarches
the Mediterranean in such exceeding loveliness, was still wanting.
We found, however, some slight compensation for this in the rising
and setting of the sun, as these were often accompanied by unusual
forms and colours of the clouds.
We were now off Morocco, and were fortunate enough today to perceive
a great number of bonitos. Every one on board bestirred himself,
and on every side fish hooks were cast overboard; unluckily only one
bonito allowed himself to be entrapped by our friendly invitations;
he made a dart at the bait, and his good-natured confidence procured
us a fresh meal, of which we had long been deprived.
On the 5th of August we saw land for the first time for twelve days.
The sun was rising as the little island of Porto Santo greeted our
sight. It is formed of peaked mountains, which, by their shape,
betray their volcanic origin. A few miles in advance of the island
stands the beautiful Falcon Rock, like a sentinel upon the look-out.
We sailed past Madeira (23 miles from Porto Santo) the same day, but
unluckily at such a distance that we could only perceive the long
mountain chains by which the island is intersected. Near Madeira
lie the rocky Deserta Islands, which are reckoned as forming part of
Africa.
Near these islands we passed a vessel running under reefed sails
before the wind, whence the captain concluded that she was a cruiser
looking after slavers.
On the 6th of August we beheld, for the first time, flying fish, but
at such a distance that we could scarcely distinguish them.
On the 7th of August we neared the Canary Isles, but unfortunately,
on account of the thick fog, we could not see them. We now caught
the trade wind, that blows from the east, and is anxiously desired
by all sailors.
In the night of the 9-10th we entered the tropics. We were now in
daily expectation of greater heat and a clearer sky, but met with
neither. The atmosphere was dull and hazy, and even in our own raw
fatherland the sky could not have been so overcast, except upon some
days in November. Every evening the clouds were piled upon one
another in such a way that we were continually expecting to see a
water-spout; it was generally not before midnight that the heavens
would gradually clear up, and allow us to admire the beautiful and
dazzling constellations of the South.
The captain told us that this was the fourteenth voyage he had made
to the Brazils, during which time he had always found the heat very
easily borne, and had never seen the sky otherwise than dull and
lowering. He said that this was occasioned by the damp, unhealthy
coast of Guinea, the ill effects of which were perceptible much
further than where we then were, although the distance between us
was 350 miles.
In the tropics the quick transition from day to night is already
very perceptible; 35 or 40 minutes after the setting of the sun the
deepest darkness reigns around. The difference in the length of day
and night decreases more and more the nearer you approach the
Equator. At the Equator itself the day and night are of equal
duration.
All the 14th and 15th of August we sailed parallel with the Cape de
Verde Islands, from which we were not more than 23 miles distant,
but which, on account of the hazy state of the weather, we could not
see.
During this period we used to be much amused by small flocks of
flying-fish, which very often rose from the water so near the ship's
side that we were enabled to examine them minutely. They are
generally of the size and colour of a herring; their side fins,
however, are longer and broader, and they have the power of
spreading and closing them like little wings. They raise themselves
about twelve or fifteen feet above the water, and then, after flying
more than a distance of a hundred feet, dive down again for a moment
beneath the waves, to recommence directly afterwards: this occurs
most frequently when they are pursued by bonitos or other foes.
When they were flying at some distance from the ship they really
looked like elegant birds. We very frequently saw the bonitos also,
who were pursuing them, endeavour to raise themselves above the
water, but they seldom succeeded in raising more than their head.
It is very difficult to catch one of these little denizens of the
air, as they are to be secured neither by nets or hooks; but
sometimes the wind will drive them, during the night, upon the deck,
where they are discovered, in the morning, dead, not having
sufficient strength to raise themselves from dry places; in this way
I obtained a few specimens.
Today, August 15th, we enjoyed a most interesting sight. We
happened, exactly at 12 o'clock, to be in the sun's zenith, and the
sunbeams fell so perpendicularly that every object was perfectly
shadowless. We put books, chairs, ourselves in the sun, and were
highly delighted with this unusual kind of amusement. Luckily we
had chanced to be at the right spot at the right time; had we, at
the same hour, been only one degree nearer or one degree further, we
should have lost the entire sight; when we saw it we were 14 degrees
6' (a minute is equal to a nautical mile).
All observations with the sextant {9} were out of the question until
we were once more some degrees from the zenith.
17th August. Shoals of tunny-fish, (fish four and five feet long,
and belonging to the dolphin tribe,) were seen tumbling about the
ship. A harpoon was quickly procured, and one of the sailors sent
out with it on the bowsprit; but whether he had bad luck, or was
unskilled in the art of harpooning, he missed his mark. The most
wonderful part of the story, though, was that all the fish
disappeared as if by magic, and did not appear again for some days;
it seemed as if they had whispered and warned each other of the
threatened danger.
All the oftener, however, did we see another inhabitant of the sea,
namely, that beautiful mollusca, the physolida, called by the
sailors Portugiesisches Segel-schiff; (Portuguese sailing-ship.)
When floating upon the surface of the sea, with its long crest,
which it can elevate or depress at pleasure, it really resembles a
delicate tiny little sailing vessel. I was very desirous of
catching one of these little creatures, but this could only be
effected by means of a net, which I had not got, nor had I either
needle or twine to make one. Necessity, however, is the mother of
invention; so I manufactured a knitting needle of wood, unravelled
some thick string, and in a few hours possessed a net. Very soon
afterwards a mollusca had been captured, and placed in a tub filled
with sea water. The little creature's body is about six inches long
and two inches high; the crest extends over the whole of the back,
and in the middle, where it is highest, measures about an inch and a
half. Both the crest and body are transparent, and appear as if
tinged with rose colour; from the belly, which is violet, are
suspended a number of threads or arms of the same colour.
I hung the little thing up to dry at the stern, outside the ship;
some of the threads reached down into the water (a depth of at least
twelve feet), but most of them fell off. After the animal was dead,
the crest remained erect, and the body perfectly filled out, but the
beautiful rose colour gradually changed to white.
18th August. Today we had a heavy thunder-storm, for which we were
very grateful, as it cooled the air considerably. Between 1 and 2
degrees, or 3 degrees North latitude, frequent changes in the
weather are very common. For instance, on the morning of the 20th
we were overtaken by a strong wind, which lashed up the sea to a
great height, and continued until evening, when it gave way to a
tropical shower, which we at home should call a perfect water-spout.
The deck was instantaneously transformed into a lake, while at the
same time the wind had so completely fallen that even the rudder
enjoyed a holiday.
This rain cost me a night's rest, for when I went to take possession
of my berth, I found the bed-clothes drenched through and through,
and was fain to content myself with a wooden bench for a couch.
On the 27th of August we got beyond these hostile latitudes, and
were received by the anxiously desired south-east trade wind, which
hurried us quickly on our voyage.
We were now very near the Equator, and, like all other travellers,
wished very much to see the celebrated constellations of the south.
I myself was most interested in the Southern Cross; and, as I could
not find it among the stars, I begged the captain to point it out to
me. Both he and the first mate, however, said that they had never
heard of it, and the second mate was the only one to whom it did not
appear entirely unknown. With his help, we really did discover in
the spangled firmament four stars, which had something of the form
of a somewhat crooked cross, but were certainly not remarkable in
themselves, nor did they excite the least enthusiasm amongst us. A
most magnificent spectacle was, on the contrary, formed by Orion,
Jupiter, and Venus; the latter, indeed, shone so brilliantly that
her gleams formed a silver furrow across the waves.
The great frequency of falling stars is another fact that I cannot
corroborate. They are, perhaps, more frequent than in cold
climates, but are far from being as common as is said: and as for
their size, I saw only one which surpassed ours; and this appeared
about three times as large as an ordinary star.
For some days also we had now seen the Cape, or Magellan's Clouds,
and also the so-called Black Cloud. The first are bright, and, like
the Milky Way, are formed of numberless small stars, invisible to
the naked eye; the latter presents a black appearance, and is said
to be produced by the absence of all stars whatever from this part
of the heavens.
All these different signs prepared us for the most interesting
moment of our voyage--namely, passing the line.
On the 29th of August, at 10 o'clock P.M., we saluted the southern
hemisphere for the first time. A feeling nearly allied to pride
excited every one, but more especially those who crossed the line
for the first time. We shook each other by the hand, and
congratulated one another mutually, as if we had done some great and
heroic deed. One of the passengers had brought with him a bottle or
two of champagne to celebrate the event: the corks sprang gaily in
the air, and with a joyful "huzza," the health of the new hemisphere
was drunk.
No festivities took place among the crew. This is at present the
case in most vessels, as such amusements seldom end without
drunkenness and disorder. The sailors, however, could not let the
cabin-boy, who passed the line for the first time, go quite scot-
free; so he was well christened in a few buckets of salt water.
Long before passing the line, we passengers had frequently spoken of
all the sufferings and tortures we should be subjected to at the
Equator. Every one had read or heard something exceedingly
horrible, which he duly communicated to all the rest. One expected
headache or colic; a second had pictured to himself the sailors
falling down from exhaustion; a third dreaded such a fearful degree
of heat, that it would not only melt the pitch, {11} but would so
dry up the ship, that nothing but continual throwing water over it
could prevent its catching fire; while a fourth feared that all the
provisions would be spoilt, and ourselves nearly starved to death.
For my own part, I had already congratulated myself on the tragical
stories I should be able to present to my readers; I beheld them
shedding tears at the narration of the sufferings we had
experienced, and I already appeared to myself half a martyr. Alas!
I was sadly deceived. We all remained in perfectly good health; not
a sailor sank exhausted; the ship did not catch fire; and the
provisions were not spoilt--they were just as bad as before.
3rd September. From 2 to 3 degrees South latitude the wind is very
irregular, and frequently excessively violent. Today we passed the
8 degrees South latitude, without seeing land, which put the captain
in the best of humours. He explained to us, that if we had seen
land, we should have been obliged to retrace our course almost to
the line, because the current sets in with such violence towards the
land, that the voyage could only be made at a proper distance.
7th September. Between 10 and 20 degrees South latitude we again
met with very peculiar prevalent winds. They are called vamperos;
and oblige the sailor to be always on his guard, as they spring up
very suddenly, and are often extremely violent. We were overtaken
by one during the night, but, luckily, it was not of the worst kind.
In a few hours it had entirely passed over, but the sea did not
become calm again for a considerable time.
On the 9th and 11th of September, we encountered some short gusts of
the vamperos, the most violent being the last.
12th and 13th of September. The first was termed by the captain
merely "a stiffish breeze;" but the second was entered in the log
{12} as "a storm." The stiffish breeze cost us one sail; the storm,
two. During the time it lasted, the sea ran so high, that it was
with the greatest difficulty we could eat. With one hand we were
obliged to grasp the plate, and at the same time to hold fast on to
the table, while, with the other, we managed, with considerable
difficulty, to convey the food to our mouth. At night, I was
obliged to "stow" myself firmly in my berth with my cloaks and
dresses, to protect my body from being bruised black and blue.
On the morning of the 13th, I was on deck at break of day. The
helmsman led me to the side of the vessel, and told me to hold my
head overboard, and inhale the air. I breathed a most beautiful
perfume of flowers. I looked round in astonishment, and imagined
that I must already be able to see the land: it was, however, still
far distant, the soft perfume being merely drifted to us by the
wind. It was very remarkable that inside the ship this perfume was
not at all perceptible.
The sea itself was covered with innumerable dead butterflies and
moths, which had been carried out to sea by the storm. Two pretty
little birds, quite exhausted by their long flight, were resting
upon one of the yards.
For us, who, during two months and a half, had seen nothing but sky
and water, all these things were most satisfactory; and we looked
out anxiously for Cape Frio, which we were very near. The horizon,
however, was lowering and hazy, and the sun had not force enough to
tear the murky veil asunder. We looked forward with joy to the next
morning, but during the night were overtaken by another storm, which
lasted until 2 o'clock. The ship's course was changed, and she was
driven as far as possible into the open sea; so that, in the end, we
were glad enough to reach, the next day, the same position we had
occupied the morning before.
Today we caught no glimpse of land; but a few gulls and albatrosses
from Cape Frio warned us that we were near it, and afforded us some
little amusement. They swam close up to the ship's side, and
eagerly swallowed every morsel of bread or meat that was thrown to
them. The sailors tried to catch some with a hook and line, and
were fortunate enough to succeed. They were placed upon the deck,
and, to my great surprise, I perceived that they were unable to
raise themselves from it. If we touched them, they merely dragged
themselves, with great difficulty, a few paces further, although
they could rise very easily from the surface of the water, and fly
extremely high.
One of the gentlemen was exceedingly anxious to kill and stuff one
of them, but the superstition of the sailors was opposed to this.
They said that if birds were killed on board ship, their death would
be followed by long calms. We yielded to their wishes and restored
the little creatures to the air and waves, their native elements.
This was another proof that superstition is still deep-rooted in the
minds of sailors. Of this we had afterwards many other instances.
The captain, for example, was always very averse to the passengers
amusing themselves with cards or any other game of chance; in
another vessel, as I was informed, no one was allowed to write on
Sunday, etc. Empty casks or logs of wood were also very frequently
thrown overboard during a calm--probably as sacrifices to the
deities of the winds.
On the morning of the 16th of September we at last had the good
fortune to perceive the mountains before Rio Janeiro, and soon
singled out the Sugarloaf. At 2 o'clock, P.M., we entered the bay
and port of Rio Janeiro.
Immediately at the entrance of the bay are several conical rocks,
some of which, like the Sugarloaf, rise singly from the sea, while
others are joined at the base, and are almost inaccessible. {13}
Between these "ocean mountains," if I may be allowed the expression,
are seen the most remarkably beautiful views; now extraordinary
ravines, then some charmingly situated quarter of the town,
presently the open sea, and the moment after some delightful bay.
From the bay itself, at the end of which the capital is built, rise
masses of rock, serving as foundations to different fortifications.
On some of these eminences are chapels and fortresses. Ships are
obliged to pass as near as possible to one of the largest of the
latter, namely, Santa Cruz, in order that their papers may be
examined.
From this fortress, to the right, stretches the beautiful mountain
range of the Serados-Orgoas, which, in conjunction with other
mountains and hills, fringes a lovely bay, on the shores of which
lie the little town of Praya-grande, some few villages and detached
farmhouses.
At the extremity of the principal bay, stands Rio Janeiro,
surrounded by a tolerably high chain of mountains (among which is
the Corcovado, 2,100 feet high), behind which, more inland, is the
Organ Mountain, which owes its name to its many gigantic peaks
placed upright one against the other like the pipes of an organ.
The highest peak is 5,000 feet high.
One portion of the town is concealed by the Telegraph Mountain, and
several hills, on which, besides the Telegraph, there is a monastery
of Capuchin monks and other smaller buildings. Of the town itself
are seen several rows of houses and open squares, the Great
Hospital, the Monasteries of St. Luzia and Moro do Castello, the
Convent of St. Bento, the fine Church of St. Candelaria, and some
portions of the really magnificent aqueduct. Close to the sea is
the Public Garden (passeo publico) of the town, which, from its fine
palm trees, and elegant stone gallery, with two summer-houses, forms
a striking object. To the left, upon eminences, stand some isolated
churches and monasteries, such as St. Gloria, St. Theresa, etc.
Near these are the Praya Flamingo and Botafogo, large villages with
beautiful villas, pretty buildings, and gardens, which stretch far
away until lost in the neighbourhood of the Sugarloaf, and thus
close this most wonderful panorama. In addition to all this, the
many vessels, partly in the harbour before the town, partly anchored
in the different bays, the rich and luxuriant vegetation, and the
foreign and novel appearance of the whole, help to form a picture,
of whose beauties my pen, unfortunately, can never convey an
adequate idea.
It rarely happens that a person is so lucky as to enjoy, immediately
on his arrival, so beautiful and extensive a view as fell to my lot;
fogs, clouds, or a hazy state of the atmosphere, very often conceal
certain portions, and thus disturb the wonderful impression of the
whole. Whenever this is the case, I would advise every one, who
intends stopping any time in Rio Janeiro, to take a boat, on a
perfectly clear day, as far as Santa Cruz, in order to behold this
peculiarly beautiful prospect.
It was almost dark before we reached the place of anchorage. We
were first obliged to stop at Santa Cruz to have the ship's papers
examined, and then appear before an officer, who took from us our
passports and sealed letters; then before a surgeon, who inspected
us to see that we had not brought the plague or yellow fever; and
lastly, before another officer, who took possession of different
packets and boxes, and assigned us the spot to anchor in.
It was now too late for us to land, and the captain alone proceeded
on shore. We, however, remained for a long time on deck,
contemplating the magnificent picture before us, until both land and
sea lay shrouded in night.
With a light heart did we all retire to rest; the goal of our long
voyage had been attained without any misfortune worthy of being
mentioned. A cruel piece of intelligence was in store for the poor
tailor's wife alone; but the good captain did not break it to her
today, in order to let her enjoy an undisturbed night's rest. As
soon as the tailor heard that his wife was really on her passage
out, he ran off with a negress, and left nought behind but--debts.
The poor woman had given up a sure means of subsistence in her
native land (she supported herself by cleaning lace and ladies'
apparel), and had devoted her little savings to pay the expenses of
her voyage, and all to find herself deserted and helpless in a
strange hemisphere. {14}
From Hamburgh to Rio Janeiro is about 8,750 miles.