LISBON TO MADEIRA.
Two more days’ pleasant Paddling on the Ocean.—Approach
to Madeira.—Charming aspect of the Island.—Unique boats
and benevolent boatmen.—Pastoral progression in bucolic
barouches extraordinary.—Personal appearance of the
inhabitants.—Atmospheric attractions of Madeira, and absence of
all natural annoyances.—The Vine-Blight and its consequences,
present and prospective, on the people at home and the
consumption of their wine abroad.—Funchal, and its urban and
suburban et ceteras.—Romance and reality of the History of the
Island, ‘Once Upon a Time.’—Importance of English residents
to the place.—Cost of living, and what you get for your
money.—Royal and illustrious visitors.—Mercantile matters, and
consular cordiality.—Grave Reflections in the British Burial
Ground.
[Illustration: THE LAUREL TREE, MADEIRA.]
NOTE TO THE ILLUSTRATION.—Views of Funchal, of the English
Burial-place, and other objects in Madeira, are so familiar,
that in preference to any of them, there is here given, as
being much less hacknied, one representing a small fort or
outwork, called Loureiro, or the Laurel Tree, on the coast to
the east of Funchal, being the first of the series copied from
the portfolio of the gentleman to whom our volume is so much
indebted for such privilege.
Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own,
In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone,
Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers,
And the bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers;
Where simply to feel that we breathe, that we live,
Is worth the best joy that life elsewhere can give.
The glow of the sunshine, the balm of the air,
Would steal to our hearts, and make all summer there.
Our life should resemble a long day of light,
And our death come on, holy and calm as the night.—MOORE.
Ocean sailing, perhaps, does not present anything more delightful than
the trip from Lisbon to this island in fine or moderate weather. We soon
bade adieu to the Tagus, with its merry-going windmills, and its palaces
and churches, the bold dome of the Coraçao de Jesus being the last
visible in the horizon as we steamed away; and, on the second morning at
daylight, made the Island of Porto Santo, which looks bleak and dreary
enough, but has the repute of having some verdant spots upon it; and a
small harbour called by the same name. Madeira, some 35 miles distant,
was in sight a-head, its mountains peeping out of the clouds; and a
couple of hours brought us up to the south side, along which we steamed.
The hills were covered with innumerable cottages, and huts built amongst
the vine plantations, which rise in ridges, nearly from the water’s edge
to the height of 2,000 feet; the best vine growths, no doubt, being found
at about half that elevation. It is needless to say that the _coup d’œil_
so presented is as charming as it is singular. Immediately after passing
Brazen Head, the Bay of Funchal opened before us, and a more beautiful
sight cannot well be conceived, the hills towering to a considerable
altitude, dotted a long way up with pretty-looking villas and well
cultivated gardens, until, reaching the town, these become merged in
its compact mass. Funchal, which contains a population of some 20,000
inhabitants, bears the usual Portuguese characteristics of white or
fancifully-coloured houses, many being lofty, with look-outs to the sea,
forts, churches, &c. The Loo Rock, commanding the entrance of the bay, is
very remarkable, being quite separated from the main land, which it there
protects from the roll of the sea. Here we found lying in the roads,
amongst other vessels, two American men-of-war, just come over from the
African station to refresh, as well as the Severn steamer, coaling on
her way from the Brazils to Lisbon and England. This opportunity enabled
us to send home dispatches forthwith. An assemblage of those peculiarly
strong-built boats, with double keels to protect them from being stove in
by the tremendous swell that sets in-shore so frequently, soon came to us
with offers of service, chiefly in the shape of miscellaneous matters for
sale; and we found ourselves amongst a pushing, energetic race, anxious
to trade and make money, with an earnestness that was quite refreshing.
Many spoke tolerably good English, and showed evident signs of being
accustomed to deal with our countrymen. Landing on the beach is sometimes
a formidable operation here; but the boats, as we have said, are well
adapted for all emergencies incident to the operation, whether performed
by those in robust health, or, as is too frequently the case, by
invalids, in almost the last stage preceding dissolution. The boatmen are
very active and obliging on such occasions, and considerate to a degree
that would be perfectly incredible to a Thames wherry-man at Gravesend.
We were immediately beset by a crowd of applicants for favours in one
shape or another, amongst whom were not a few beggars, although I believe
they are prohibited from soliciting alms, and a very good institution
exists for the helpless and houseless. Some of our passengers, with the
precipitancy of English in all such matters the moment a foreign shore is
reached, proceeded to test the vehicular conveniences of the island, by a
drive in one of those extraordinary bovine sledges drawn by two bullocks,
and which travel up the hills at a pace sufficiently surprising,
considering the apparently sluggish conformation of the steeds.
I took a ramble over the town, and made sundry diplomatic calls;
afterwards proceeding [aloft, as may be literally said,] to enjoy the
hospitality of Mr. Blandy, who occupies a charming country seat about
a mile up the hill, where there is a splendid view of the town and
bay, as well as of the towering mountains above. One of the sleighs or
sledges, just mentioned, carried us along a succession of steep hills
very quickly, a mode of conveyance which, notwithstanding its primeval
fashion, appears to be of recent date here. This _char rustique_ of
the mountains resembles, as nearly as possible, one of our turn-abouts
at a fair, with two seats opposite to each other; but the most curious
uses to which this odd contrivance is put, is in coursing down-hill by
express train, as they call it. Two persons seat themselves side-by-side
in the sledge, and an equal number of boys, holding a strap attached
to it, commence running down the steep declivities at a pace that must
be felt to be understood; but an idea of it may be formed by those who
remember the Vauxhall illustration of centrifugal force, some years
ago, when an unhappy monkey was placed in a carriage and shot down an
inclined plain, at the bottom whereof was a huge wheel, over and around
which the traveller and his vehicle were propelled, and brought to a
stand-still after attaining a level on the other side. The Madeira roads
are paved with sharp stones set very close together; so the machine
glides downwards without meeting with any resistance, and, in ten
minutes, descends a distance that takes half an hour or more to mount on
horseback. It was the most curious sensation I ever felt; and, though
assured of its safety, one cannot make the experiment for the first time
without thoughts of an upset running in one’s head, contact between which
and the stones would not have been very agreeable. Mountainous countries
are doubtless favourable to the promotion of personal activity; and
certainly the way in which the natives go up and down the steep paths
here, with burthens on their backs, especially in such a climate, is
something remarkable.
It is no wonder that the English are fond of Madeira, but a very great
wonder that far larger numbers do not resort thither, to pass the winter
months, with the numerous facilities of steam navigation now presented to
them. The climate, the total change of people and scenery, the teeming
vegetation, yielding the produce both of Europe and the tropics, the
picturesque disposal of the houses on the very ridges of the hills, with
every regard to comfort and even luxury, all combine to render this a
kind of earthly paradise, to which the seeming rhapsody at the head
of our chapter is really only literally applicable. Here indeed nature
showers down her choicest bounties: no fogs, miasmas, or even hurtful
dews; atmosphere almost always translucent and bright; the thermometer in
winter scarcely ever falling below 60 degrees; and where, during the hot
summer months, a cool and comfortable retreat, of almost any temperature,
may be found up the mountains. Lastly, there are no poisonous reptiles,
merely a brown lizard, harmless to everything save the vines; frogs are
quite a recent importation; and so far as I could learn, there are none
of that numerous tribe of annoying insects which infest the tropical
regions, only the familiar household flea, that makes himself at home
everywhere.
Unfortunately, the dependence of the population and the staple of Madeira
has been its vines, whose produce this year, as well as last, has totally
failed, from some cause almost as inscrutable, or at least as incurable,
and in its consequences nearly as calamitous, on a small scale, as the
potato rot in isles nearer home. I could not have believed without seeing
it:—in every direction the grapes were withered up like parched peas,
and, in many cases, the trees themselves dying. Such an extraordinary
visitation has, I believe, never been known here before. It partakes very
much of the same virulent character as the diseases that at times affect
the cereal world, and something of the kind was experienced with terrible
severity in the Canaries in 1704. Two years’ failure of a vintage, in
an island like Madeira, would be almost annihilation, if it were not
for its other boundless vegetable resources; and, as in the case of the
destruction of the Irish root, it is augured that much good may arise
to the people from the increased stimulus to industry so occasioned,
and their being induced not to place too great a dependence on any one
product. Still, it is a melancholy sight to behold the support of a whole
people struck down by such an inconceivable blight. Every means have
been tried to arrest its progress, but without success; and, should it
continue its ravages, Madeira wine bids fare to become greatly increased
in value a few years hence, when, as a matter of course, it will be
more in vogue and sought after, than has been the case for a long time
back.[33]
The streets of Funchal are narrow, but clean, and intersected by streams
of water, brought also into nearly every large dwelling. Their silence,
owing to the absence of vehicles, strikes the European stranger as
extraordinary; especially at night, when he seems to be placed in a city
of marionettes, as it were; and, from the presence of the palanquin,
bearing fair occupants about, quite an oriental tinge is imparted to
the aspect of the whole urban scene. Speaking of that, a note on the
physical attributes of the Madeirans; and we cannot do better than
quote the authority of a gentleman[33]—perhaps we should say a lady, as
it is doubtless her impressions in letter-press that are reflected on
this point[34]—who is the latest authority on what may be called the
_agremens_ of the island.
There are aqueducts made to bring the water from the mountain side, and
several deep gullies or ravines run through the town and empty themselves
into the sea. These cavities being crossed by bridges, the sides have
been built up at a considerable expense, and are covered with verdure,
tropical and European, producing a most picturesque effect. They are also
most beneficial in a sanitary sense, being in fact main arteries for
circulating pure fresh air, as well as for carrying off the impurities.
Excepting epidemics, Madeira, both town and country, must naturally be
the healthiest place in the world, for the reasons already stated. The
population of the island is estimated at upwards of 100,000, or, at least
was so till lately; but there is a good deal of emigration going on, and
owing to the late distress it is likely to increase materially, both to
Demerara and the Brazils, where the natives prove to be most valuable
labourers.
The history of Madeira, or at least its political history, is of no
great importance. Like Brazil, it is named after its wood, and so is
its capital, Funchal, from a species of fern abounding in still greater
profusion than the magnificent timber. A romantic interest belongs to its
early annals, as it was discovered, it is said, by Mr. Macham, an English
gentleman, or mariner, who fled from England for an illicit amour. He
was driven here by a storm, and his mistress, a French lady, dying, he
made a canoe, and carried the news of his discovery to Pedro, King of
Arragon, which occasioned the report that the island was discovered by
a Portuguese, A.D. 1345. But it is maintained that the Portuguese did
not visit the place until 1419, nor did they colonise it until 1431.[35]
It was taken possession of by the British in July, 1801; and again,
by Admiral Hood and General (afterwards Viscount) Beresford, Dec. 24,
1807, and retained in trust for the royal family of Portugal, which had
just then emigrated to the Brazils. It was subsequently restored to the
Portuguese crown.
The residence of Englishmen here, is of course highly advantageous to
the place, and they are welcomed, as they deserve to be, by a poor
but industrious, and by no means abject or cringing, people. On the
contrary, the population of all classes are remarkable for their frank
and ingenuous bearing. Living[36] is reasonable; and it is to be hoped
that thousands, instead of hundreds, of our countrymen, will ere long
find their way here. The visits of our late estimable Queen Adelaide,
of the Dowager Empress of Brazils, and others of eminent station and
corresponding means, are dwelt upon with gratitude, as they not only
caused a considerable circulation of money, but did much good personally.
In no part of the world can the bounties of nature, or the precious
gift of health be so richly enjoyed, or in a manner so agreeable to
Europeans, as here. The island has some little commerce with different
places, but administered in a manner that renders all we said about
Lisbon restrictions, monopolies, and mercantile impediments, applicable
in an aggravated degree, if that be possible; and, of course, until
things mend there, no improvement can be looked for here. The trading
portion of the community seem to be very social and friendly amongst
themselves, although not mixing a great deal with the English, or rather,
the English maintain their constitutional isolation from the natives,
but with a rigidity which time is rapidly mitigating. The character for
British hospitality is fittingly maintained by Mr. George Stoddard, our
Consul, who occupies the palatial residence of a Portuguese noble, and
dispenses the duties of his office in a manner that may well reconcile
the strictest economist at home to the most inadequate stipend of £300 a
year attached to it; for the obligations are often irksome, if not very
onerous; and not a few of them arising out of melancholy occurrences, to
whose frequency the tombstones and monuments in the English burial-ground
bear such significant testimony. This Anglo _Père la Chaise_ of the
Western Atlantic is one of the first objects visited—and, alas! often the
last, by the survivors of those whom
The verdant rising and the flowery hill,
The vale enamell’d, and the crystal rill,
The ocean rolling, and the shelly shore,
Beautiful objects, shall delight no more.
Now the lax’d sinews of the weaken’d eye
In watery damp and dim suffusion lie.
Bidding adieu, however, to these melancholy matters, we again resume our
course.