CHAPTER VIII.

BAHIA.

Bahia, its old name retained in a new place: the province

and the city; present condition and splendid prospect

of both.—Intra-mural peculiarities and Extra-mural

properties.—Prolific sugar produce.—Historic, artistic,

and archæological attractions of Bahia.—Souvenirs of the

Jesuits.—Relics of St. Ignatius Loyola and St. Francis

Xavier.—A Bahian church built in Europe.—British Bahian

clergyman and local railways.—Health of the city.—A Brazilian

poet warbling native wood-notes very wild.—Necessity for

keeping a nautical eye in fine frenzy rolling towards the

Abrolhos.—Departure from Bahia.—Approach to the Brazilian

capital, and untoward preliminary to the Argentina’s

acquaintance therewith.—Stray notes on Bahia, containing

memoranda on Brazilian matters in general.

NOTE TO THE ILLUSTRATIONS.—Both the illustrations in this

chapter are copied from ‘Sketches in South America,’ by Sir W.

Gore Ouseley, who, in a letter-press ‘Key’ to his beautiful

portfolio of drawings, affords some interesting particulars,

of which the annexed is an abridgment:—The first remarkable

object in approaching the harbour of Bahia is the Fort of St.

Antonio, situated on the point of a rock, forming the extremity

of the Cape called after that saint. It is not large, but it is

a fair specimen of the numerous solidly-constructed stone forts

that have been scattered by the Portuguese (and Spaniards)

throughout their colonial possessions, wherever deemed

necessary for purposes of defence or aggression, and which bear

witness, in their well-built walls, and often handsome details,

to the ample means, military skill, and power, that backed the

zeal of the first settlers in South America, and founded the

Brazilian empire. Fort St. Antonio has on its highest part a

light-house, of great service to mariners in making the port

at night, as there are shoals off the point. Opposite to Cape

St. Antonio is a long low island, called Itaparicá, between

which and the port is the channel for large vessels. The

scenery near Bahia does not present the striking features that

distinguish Rio de Janeiro; it has neither the well-wooded

hills nor the lofty precipitous rocks that environ the capital

of Brazil. It is, however, very pretty, varied by small hills

and acclivities, and ornamented by the tall, graceful cocoa-nut

and the usual luxuriant vegetation of Brazil. The Cape, like

the coast generally of the province of Bahia, is surrounded

by coral rocks; and a reef of coral extends to a considerable

distance from and along the shore. The beach is sandy, with

large stones strewed on it by the action of the waves. After

passing the Cape and Fort St. Antonio, which are on the right

on entering the harbour of Bahia, the next prominent objects

are the church and villas on the high land, called Victoria,

overlooking the harbour. It is a favourite and picturesque

suburb of Bahia, and is the chosen site of several ‘chacras’

or quasi country residences. The elevation is sufficient to

avoid the extreme heat of the lower town and to get the benefit

of the sea-breeze. It is considered a healthy situation, and

a tolerable carriage-road leads to the English cemetery,

marked by a cross in the foreground, and to the point of St.

Antonio, as well as along the coast. On the beach are several

‘Armaçaos,’ or places where whale-boats are kept, and whales

cut up. They are provided with capstans and tackle, for hauling

up the carcase and blubber to be reduced to food by the poor,

the flesh looking like coarse beef. The whale on this coast

is pursued in large sailing-boats, and harpooned while the

boat is under sail. In the inner harbour are situated most

of the wharves, quays, and warehouses along the beach and

projecting into the water; and here numerous vessels lie in

perfect safety; the foreign men-of-war generally near a round

castellated tower or fort, not far from the entrance. Bahia is

divided into two towns, the upper and the lower, the former of

which being more modern, is built with greater regularity than

the latter; and contains many handsome buildings, including a

rich cathedral, the palaces of the archbishop and governor, a

court of appeal, theatre, hospitals, a library of from 60,000

to 70,000 volumes, and many other edifices, chiefly of an

ecclesiastical character. The lower town, San Salvador, or

Bahia, is dirty and badly laid out, but in it are to be found

the exchange, arsenal, and imperial dockyard. About three miles

north-east are yards for the construction of merchant shipping.

The houses are mostly of stone, and often lofty. The Dutch

have left traces of former possession in the brick paving of

some of the streets. At the foot of the steep height, covered

with foliage, and crowned by the ‘Paseo Publico,’ or public

promenade, is a small landing-place for boats, conveniently

situated for those who prefer a steep but clambering ascent

to the upper town, to being first taken round the point

into the interior basin and landed in the lower town, to be

thence carried up by negroes in a sort of palanquin. Those in

use here consist merely of a chair on a platform of boards,

suspended from the centre of an arched pole or beam, the

projecting swan-necked ends of which are born on the shoulders

of two men, who relieve themselves by the occasional use of

a stick as a lever applied under the pole as it rests under

the opposite shoulder. The motion is neither pleasant nor the

position seemingly secure. Yet not only ladies, but men, and

of no light calibre, invariably use them for transport to

the upper town and in visiting. The chairs are sheltered by

curtains from the sun, and the woodwork as well as curtains

are often gilt and showily and expensively ornamented. The

steepness of the streets prevents the use of wheel-carriages,

except in a few directions, and causes the substitution of

these palanquins. Bahia, founded in 1549 by Thomas de Souza,

first captain-general of Brazil, is one of the most important

commercial cities in America; and prior to the transfer of the

vice-royalty in 1763 to Rio, was the capital of Brazil. It

is defended by several forts, some of great strength. It was

stated some years ago to contain above 150,000 inhabitants,

among whom are many very wealthy proprietors and merchants.

This population is divided pretty equally into whites,

mulattoes, and blacks. A few miles from Bahia, on the Atlantic

coast near Rio Vermelho, is a small ruined chapel, dedicated to

St. Gonçalo, said to be the first building devoted to Christian

worship constructed in Brazil, or, as some say, in America.

Bahia, or San Salvador da Bahia, is commonly called by the former name,

which is only the abbreviation of the title given by the first settlers

to the bay, at the head whereof stands the capital, viz., ‘Bahia de todos

os Santos,’ or ‘All Saints’ Bay,’ as already stated; but some geographers

of the present day retain the old nomenclature; and in so recent

and authoritative a work as the eighth edition of the ‘Encyclopædia

Britannica,’ now in course of publication, the reader is referred, for

the province and city of Bahia, to the article San Salvador, which may

be expected to make its appearance somewhere towards the end of 1856,

by which time, it is to be hoped, the subject will have expanded to

dimensions corresponding with such procrastination in its treatment by

such means.

[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE PORT OF BAHIA.]

This province contains within itself the germs of enduring prosperity:

a splendid bay many miles in extent, where countless ships can ride

close to the shore, with lakes and rivers branching from it, form so

many natural harbours, docks, and canals; whilst it abounds with sugar

plantations, forests of timber fit for shipbuilding and other purposes,

precious stones, and many tropical productions, the latter of which can

be all procured in a degree only limited by the amount of labour and the

facility of bringing things down to the ports for shipment.

Everything at Bahia bespeaks the former head-quarter of an important

government. The removal of the latter to Rio was of course a great

disadvantage to this place, which has since had to work its way up

as a commercial entrepot, with frequent interruptions from political

disturbances, the last in 1837 amounting to a positive civil war, when a

most lawless band obtained possession of the city, which they held for

several months, and were only driven out, with much slaughter, after

having attempted to fire it, in which they partially succeeded. Since

that time things have been tolerably quiet, the discovery of large

deposits of diamonds in a district called the Chapada having given an

impetus to business, and taken away many restless spirits, there being

now a population of some 40,000, collected there in pursuit of gems

here found in considerable abundance—some of extraordinary value. It is

50 to 60 leagues distant from the town of Cachoeira at the head of a

river of that name, which is navigable for steam-boats and a source of

considerable traffic, there joining the Paraguassa, into which sundry

small tributaries, of more or less importance, flow.

The production of sugar, for the fine quality of which the province is

greatly celebrated, as also for that of its tobacco, so highly praised

in Portugal and Spain, has latterly revived, amounting for the crop just

finished, to 80,000 tons. As already observed in the case of Pernambuco,

this increase has not originated from any fiscal changes in England,

but simply from the cessation of civil discord, enabling the planters

to devote their entire energies to the culture of their estates. It is

true that large importations of slaves have aided this movement, and

that Bahia has been the great focus of this detestable traffic; but the

stimulus cannot be traced in any way to our treatment of the West India

Colonies, however disposed interested parties may be to ascribe it to

this circumstance. The Brazilians had begun to find out the advantages

attendant on peace and tranquillity, and that the greater the quantity of

produce they could export the larger would be the means at their disposal

for the purchase of the necessaries and luxuries of life, which they

now began to look upon as desirable to possess. Improved machinery for

the making of sugar was brought into operation, as well as additional

capital for the development of that product, and likewise of cotton; in

the export of which latter commodity Bahia now nearly equals Pernambuco,

exceeding that port and province, and all the rest of Brazil put

together, in the quantity of its sugar. The natural consequence of such

application of skill and means has been a largely extended production

from almost virgin soil.

[Illustration: THE CHAPEL OF SAN GONCALO, AT BAHIA.]

Whilst the trade of Bahia has thus progressed, signs of local and

municipal improvement are also visible. Short as is the time since the

accomplished author of the note, page 123, wrote—viz., in 1845—the

streets have been generally repaired, and the roads leading to the upper

town put in an efficient state, so that carriages can now traverse

them safely; new quays, extending along the margin of the bay, are in

process of erection; also a new custom-house, together with many other

much-needed improvements, chiefly owing to the personal activity of

Sen. Gonsalvez Martins, formerly President of Bahia, and late Minister

of the Empire, who is a native of the place, to which he has shown

himself devotedly attached. Bahia possesses more attractions for the

mere traveller, in search of curiosities, than probably any town in

Brazil, or even in the whole of South America; formerly the capital

of the empire, as we have just said, and still next in extent and

importance to the metropolis, and as being also the chief seat of the

ecclesiastical jurisdiction, its religious structures are the most

numerous, imposing, and unique, of any in all Brazil. The cathedral of

San Salvador is a splendid monument of the architectural genius of the

Jesuits, and its interior corresponds in magnificence with its external

beauty, containing, among other remarkable mementos of those colonizers,

a portrait, said to be taken from life, of their famous founder, Ignatius

Loyola, and that of St. Francis Xavier. The ancient college of the order,

now a military hospital, is also very fine. There are probably not less

than 40 churches, one of them being situated in the principal street, the

Praya, called the Church of the Conception, chiefly composed of blocks of

marble which were forwarded from Europe already numbered, like the plates

of an iron house in these days, and on their arrival they had merely to

be put together, and the building was constructed at once, according to

the precise design of the architect at home. This is the more singular

as very excellent stone abounds on the spot, the theatre, for instance,

being erected on a rock, and numbers of houses are built therewith from

the same material, to the height of five stories, some having balconies

and blinds, instead of windows—a most desirable arrangement in such a

climate, and one which speaks much for the honesty of the lower classes

in a town of great trade like Bahia, the extent of whose business

may be surmised when it is stated that upwards of a million pounds’

sterling worth of English goods alone enter it annually. Mr. Borthwick,

the engineer, sent from London to determine on the accuracy of Messrs.

De Mornay’s survey of the Pernambuco railway, in his report, already

referred to in the preceding chapter, speaking of the rival claims of

Bahia to a railway of its own, and contrasting the condition of the

two extraordinary nourishing provinces, says:—‘In 1851 the imperial

revenue, from Bahia was 4,784,600 milreis, and from Pernambuco 4,639,427

milreis, irrespective of movements of funds, &c., which would reverse the

comparison in that way.’ I have not the returns for the last two years

before me, but believe that the general relative proposition is still

about the same.

Here I saw the first practical adoption of the Brazilian railway system,

in the working of a tram road, to level a large space of uneven ground

called the Campo, on the Victoria Hill, by which means a large amount of

work has been done in a very short time. For much of this the natives are

considerably indebted to the English clergyman who officiates as chaplain

to the British residents, and who, not satisfied with paving the road

to heaven leading to the path he points out, and building a handsome

new church in this locality, has been public-spirited enough to afford

material assistance in the construction of highways, building of bridges,

and other engineering works, thus clearly and beneficially proving his

aptitude for business of this kind.

Bahia has suffered severely from that dreadful scourge the yellow fever;

but we found it had in a great measure passed over; and it is to be

hoped that it will gradually die away, though it appears that the chief

medical men in the empire have decided that it will remain a permanent,

or at least intermittent, visitant, something probably like the cholera

amongst us, which has apparently become acclimated in England, continuing

a steady course of mortality, without those sudden inroads whose speedy

devastation so greatly shocked, because they so much surprised, us.

There is a romantic kind of history attached to the first settlement of

this province, embodied in an attempt to copy Camoens in his splendid

work, commemorative of the discovery of India by Vasco da Gama. (_Vide_

introductory chapter.) It is called ‘Caramaru,’ and was written by José

Basilio da Gama, a Brazilian, born in Minas Geres, about the year 1740,

and is descriptive of the adventures of a Portuguese sailor, who was

wrecked somewhere near Bahia, and rescued from the fate of his shipmates

(who were sacrificed by the cannibals, then in possession of the coast)

by an Indian princess, who became enamoured of and married him; he then

figured in the wars of the Indians, by whom he was looked upon as a kind

of demi-god, and afterwards made a trip to Europe with his wife. Some of

the scenes in this poem are well and graphically depicted, giving a good

insight into the state of the country at that period, and of the savage

life existing; but after reading Camoens, it sinks immeasurably into the

shade, and we have difficulty in believing it to be written in the same

language.

Our stay at Bahia was limited to the day. We sailed again at night, and

were obliged to pass outside the Abrolhos, it being night when we came

up with them; otherwise there is a good channel for a steamer between

these rocks and the main land, and it is a great saving in distance.

The name of these crags is very appropriate (‘Open Your Eyes’) there

being much need of it, and no light-house to warn the mariner, should he

unfortunately be driven by the current or some other casualty near such

perils at night-time. Few accidents, however, happen, because a wide

berth is given to the Abrolhos. Off Cape Frio we were met by a stiff

south-wester, which came down upon us with a freshness and determination

worthy of St. George’s Channel; our little steamer went through it

manfully, only sending the spray over us. We did not descry the light

on Cape Frio owing to the mist and drizzling showers, but soon came up

with that on the Island of Raza, opposite to Rio Harbour, which is a

splendid light seen from a long distance, and it renders the entrance to

Rio comparatively easy. We steamed on, and passed the fort of Santa Cruz,

where vessels are hailed; but in running in to the anchorage ground

we unfortunately came in contact with a small vessel, placed in the

roads with chains and anchors to afford succour to vessels in distress,

odd enough called the ‘Succorro,’ or ‘Succour.’ She had neglected

the precaution of having a light up, so stringently enforced by the

regulations of the port; and we could not see her till close upon her,

doing some damage, but nothing very material, and came to anchor close to

her for the night.

The following interesting ‘scraps,’ touching manners, customs, and things

at Bahia, have been supplied by my valued relative, Mr. Wetherell, for

some time British Vice-Consul there, who employs much of his leisure

hours not merely in collecting information of this nature and placing it

on record, but also in other useful pursuits connected with botany and

natural history, of which he has sent home many interesting results.

STRAY NOTES ON BAHIA.

One of the most singular appearances the upper city has to a

stranger is its apparent desertion. There were, until very

lately, only about a dozen wheeled vehicles in the place,

but the march of intellect has been here, and now there are

omnibuses plying to the Victoria. All burdens are carried on

the head, from an orange, a candle, or a bottle, to a barrel

of fish. The larger kinds, such as pipes of wine, are slung

between poles, whilst logs of wood are carried upon the

shoulders of twenty or thirty, looking, for all the world, like

an immense centipede. During the time of carrying a wild kind

of chorus is kept up; one man makes observations as he goes

along, and the rest come in with a chorus, which seldom varies,

however much the recitative solo part may. Although large

burdens are thus carried, one man will not take nearly so much

as a European, and would rather lose his chance of a journey

than carry more than he thinks proper.

The cupolas of the church towers are very frequently covered

with pieces of earthenware, assorted according to their colour,

and laid on stucco in patterns, which gives them a glistening

appearance, as if they were enamelled. It appears to withstand

the effects of time. Some of them are covered with Dutch tiles,

and others are formed of marble. Part of the front of the

Italian friars’ church, and the bell tower, are covered with

the above curious stucco, but a near approach destroys the

effect.

Little naked blacks are constantly seen in the street, with

no more clothing than a pair of bracelets or ear-rings, and

some are very fine-looking. Their appearance is not improved,

however, by the protuberance of the abdomen caused by eating

farinha, which swells extremely when any liquid is mixed with

it. The shape, nevertheless, is soon regained. One peculiarity

is the infrequency of a child crying: their food is simple,

so that they do not often suffer from indigestion, and they

are less encumbered with clothing than the higher classes,

although, in the country, none are very particular in that

respect. The manner in which the mother carries the child,

slung across the back with her shawl, binds its legs in a

curve, but they soon recover their straightness when able to

walk. When thus tied, the child presents the very picture of

resignation, its little head nodding about, when fast asleep,

or when awake crowing, or beating a tattoo on its mother’s

back, who frequently holds a conversation with it, its replies

being in the only universal language now in use.

The huts of the blacks are very curious; they are built of

stakes of bamboo &c., driven into the ground, and these

intertwined with others; the whole, being filled up with clay,

and thatched with palm-leaves. The interior presents the very

acmé of wretchedness on a rainy day, and but little better in

fine weather. All kinds of rubbish huddled together, a few

daubs of saints hung on the walls, a ricketty table with some

carved saint upon it, a coach dog, (a hideous animal, without

hair, having only a few bristles on the head, back, and tail,

and of a dull leaden colour,) or a long-legged scraggy cat, and

a few fowls, quite as great curiosities in their way, are the

usual characteristics of these primitive habitations.

The blacks of this place swim almost as if they were

amphibious. You see numbers of children constantly dabbling

at the water’s edge for hours together, and soon learning to

strike out boldly. One mode of swimming is very singular; one

arm is always out of the water, advanced in front, alternately

with the other, sweeping or drawing the water towards them, and

raising the body out of the water at each stroke. This method

is considerably quicker than the ordinary style of swimming,

but appears to be more difficult of attainment.

It is agreed by phrenologists that the head of the negro, above

all others, presents the greatest development of Music, and

certainly some of the blacks do play remarkably well. You hear

little boys in the street, whom you might fancy could scarcely

speak, whistle tunes with great correctness; and the negro

dances show how admirably the science of time is appreciated.

O surely melody from heaven was sent

To cheer the soul, when tired of human strife,

To soothe the wayward heart, by sorrow bent,

And soften down the rugged path of life.—KIRKE WHITE.

It is to European ears, however, that taught combination music

has the charm; the monotony of the negro chanting, and its

never-ending repetition, convey no idea of the ‘melody of sweet

sounds,’ and the dances that are exhibited to these tunes are

anything but edifying.

The manner of catching fish here is curious. At low water four

or five large canoes will start; two of them divide the net,

which is of great length, and has the lower edge loaded with

lead, and the upper lightened with cork. On arriving at a given

spot, they separate, and dropping the net with all speed, form

as wide a circle as possible, and thus enclose the fish in a

pen. The canoes are then ranged around the outside of the net,

at some distance from each other, and a hand-net, the length of

the canoe, is held by two blacks. This net is about six feet

in height, and supported by two poles. The other men then beat

the water and the sides of the canoes with paddles, making as

much noise as they can, which frightens the fish, which, trying

to escape, and finding themselves effectually prevented by the

net, leap out of the water, and are caught by the hand-net,

and fall into the boat. In a few minutes a large catch is

made, though numbers of course escape. It is a curious sight

to see them flying, as it were, in all directions, out of the

enclosure.

The roasted grains of milho (Indian corn) form a dish of which

the blacks, are very fond; it is called pipokas, and is thus

prepared:—an earthen pot is partly filled with white sand, and

placed over a small open stove until it becomes thoroughly

heated, when the grains of new milho are stripped off the

bunch, thrown in, and stirred amongst the sand with a long

stick. The grains soon swell, and burst the skin, and the corn

becomes white and light. These grains are eaten with pieces of

cocoa nut. ‘Vai plantas pipokas,’ (go plant roasted milho,) is

a phrase, rather more expressive than polite, used in bidding a

person go and mind his own business.

It is a curious circumstance that the minds of the blacks

should, for so many ages, have remained in a stationary

condition; and although political and local circumstances may

have greatly operated to retard their mental development,

yet it seems much more probable that this state of darkness

proceeds more from physical causes. Their stupidity, or rather

want of intellectuality, is a most unaccountable fact, and one

of those mysterious dispensations of Providence that man tries

in vain to unravel. Individual, but almost solitary, instances

occur of a contrary nature; and although cultivation of the

intellect may thus have developed the black’s faculties, it

only serves to show more clearly the wild and blank from which

he has been separated.

A very singular, in fact almost a barbaric, custom exists here

on gala days, such as the birth-day of the Emperor or Empress.

The President issues invitations to a ‘Cortejo’ at the Palace,

a large building in the upper town. The portion occupied by the

President is older than the rest, which is new, and contains

the Treasury, and other public offices. The attendance on one

of these gala days consists of all the authorities, and many

of the principal inhabitants of the city. The ceremony usually

commences with a ‘Te Deum’ in the cathedral. The foreign

consuls appear in their uniforms, a motley habited, but showy,

group: the officers of the army and navy, with the President,

all in full regimentals; the archbishop in his robes, and the

priests in the habits of their respective orders; the judges

in their robes of office, the corporation in their quaint

dresses, and a crowd of civilians, all habited in black, and

many of them decorated with ribbons and stars. The entry is

up a dilapidated stair-case, on the top landing of which a

military band is stationed playing national airs. Two large

and scantily furnished rooms are entered, and a short time is

spent in conversation, until the preparations for the Cortejo

are complete. Then the President’s aid-de-camp pushes aside

the heavy door curtain, and invites the company to enter. The

assemblage enters a long room, papered with green and gold, and

lighted by a line of windows overlooking the sea, curtained

with green and gold damask, looped with bullion. At the further

end of the room, under a velvet canopy, with a kind of dais

in front, are portraits of the Emperor and the Empress, which

constitute the sole furniture of the room. On one side of the

portraits stand the President and the Archbishop, and on the

other the General-at-arms, Commander of the National Guard, and

other principal authorities. The procession advances down the

centre of the room, in Indian file, the consuls going first,

and according to precedence; and when within a few yards of the

dais, each person makes a profound bow to the portraits, and

then to the authorities. Foreigners generally omit the first

obeisance, as being too _savage_, but those who come after most

ceremoniously perform the rite. After bowing, each person takes

his leave by passing out by a side door, and the Cortejo is

over. When all have bowed their way out, the President invites

the consuls he is friendly with to view the troops defile

before him, as he stands at one of the front windows of the

Palace. The military march past to martial music, and then we

take our leave.

Caugica is a species of food of a peculiarly national

character, and is made in various ways. One is simply taking

the skin off the Indian corn, and boiling it in milk or water;

this is eaten cold. Another method is to grind the corn, mix

the meal with sugar and spices, and boil it with milk, when it

makes a very agreeable food.

The butterflies of this country are most gorgeous; agile and

graceful, they flutter in the sunlight, their magnificent robes

glistening like scales of gold. These sylph-like inhabitants of

the air, issuing from the dark cradle in which they exist as

chrysalises, seem to rejoice in their new life, hovering from

flower to flower, sipping the choicest nectar, and revelling in

perpetual enjoyment, and the continued pursuit of novelty and

pleasure.

The Solidade Convent is the great _locale_ where they make

those beautiful feather flowers without dye, which are so much

esteemed in Europe. On my first visit to this place, all the

romance of nuns and nunneries was revived in my mind. The lady

abbess, or superior, or whatever else she may be, was a stately

woman: but the nun who acted as saleswoman was most beautiful—a

Carlo Dolci countenance, pale, but with glorious eyes; and far

more flowers were bought from her than would have been from

any other. Visitors are ushered into a small room, whither

the flowers are conveyed in large baskets through a double

grating, and the attendants of the different nuns are there to

look after their own. None of our party were very proficient

in Portuguese, and we had great fun in the purchases, though

we probably paid double what we ought to have done. On our

departure, the lovely nun came to the door, and as we passed

out, courteously bade us ‘adios,’ and requested us, if we came

again, to ask for Maria.

A beautiful species of duck is found at Maronia, to the north

of this place, of the manner of catching which a description

has been given me. The lakes which they frequent are very much

choked with vegetable matter, and near their haunts a large

gourd is floated, having two small holes bored through the

side. After a few days, when the ducks have become accustomed

to the presence of the gourd, a man wades into the water with

it on his head, and catching a duck by its legs, breaks its

neck, and fastens it to his girdle. In this manner, several are

quietly killed, and the fowler wades ashore with a well-filled

pouch.

The Botocudo Indians make an incision in the under lip,

which becomes so distended that they insert in the orifice a

round piece of wood, as large as the top of a common-sized

tumbler-glass; the lobe of the ear is also perforated and

elongated, in order to receive a similar ornament. In height

they are about 5 feet 6 inches, and have quite an independent

bearing and _ar de franqueza_.

The Indians, like the Greeks of the Homeric age, deem it the

greatest of evils to be unburied, and therefore they delight in

making flutes and trumpets of their enemies’ bones. I have seen

some of these flutes of the present day: they contain about

four or five holes; and are sometimes ornamented with tufts of

red and yellow feathers attached to the bone by strings.

The market is a most curious place, and I am told by persons

who have travelled in Africa, that it has a thoroughly African

appearance. Amongst heaps of fruit, vegetables, &c., shaded by

mats, some of which are formed into huts, and others merely

propped up by sticks, are seated the black women, in dresses

of many diversified colours, but all of the same fashion.

Some with their infants slung across their backs, and tied

by the pano da Costa; others with heavy baskets of fruit or

vegetables on their head; little children, whose only articles

of clothing are bracelets, ear-rings, and bands of coral beads

round the body, squat on a wooden dish, like an Indian god,

or sprawl amidst fowls, ducks, &c. Here and there you see a

black girl in her holiday attire, her hands covered with rings,

and her neck adorned with chains of solid gold, which she is

constantly displaying by arranging her shawl. In this part of

the market the boxes of papadura, attended by the taberoá, in

his leather jacket and hat; the half-naked qaubadomes busy

with unloading and loading, and the different and absolutely

gorgeous colours of the fruit, vegetables, and dresses, form a

most brilliant picture. The constant chatter of talking, the

screaming of parrots, the laughter of the women, and sometimes

the serious talk, added to which the procession of the Espiritu

Santo, accompanied by its band of music, the ringing of the

church bells, and the constant firing of rockets, constitute a

perfect Babel of sounds. The dark shades are the dusky sons of

Ethiop themselves, the dirty buildings, and the still dirtier

streets; but a busier, gayer, or more amusing scene will seldom

be found.

This is the land of parasite plants; a thousand different kinds

of these vagaries of nature are here. Some, attached to the

branches of trees, derive sustenance therefrom and from the

air; others form a nucleus with their roots for dead leaves,

decayed wood, &c., and flourish; others, again, merely rest

upon the branches, and live on air alone. Every curiosity of

form is to be seen: some of the flowers like flies; others

of indescribable shapes; many with their flowers filled with

water, which thus becomes scented; a dozen different varieties

on one tree; some of most brilliant colours, others shades of

green alone; some long and pendant, one variety of which has

received the name of the ‘rat’s tail;’ some without leaves,

like nothing but a string, wave with every wind until they

reach the ground, where they become fixed and rooted.

The bread-fruit tree is very beautiful; but is not very common

in this place, its use being superseded by farinha. The leaves

are very large, of a bright green colour, and much indented

at the edges. The fruit is green, and the surface has the

appearance of network. There are two varieties: in one kind the

divisions of the fruit’s surface are raised pyramidally, in the

other they are smooth. The latter is the sort used for food,

it having no seeds. Roasted and eaten with butter and salt it

is palatable, but insipid; and here it is usually planted for

ornament, as it grows quickly, and makes a pleasing variety

among other trees. The coffee is another very beautiful plant;

when in blossom, the long, glossy, dark green leaves present a

pleasing contrast to the clusters of white flowers round the

stem, and it exhales a delicious fragrance. When the berries

arrive at maturity, they are of a dusky red colour; each

contains two grains of coffee, surrounded by a soft pulp, which

soon dries after being plucked, and is then removed. The labour

of picking is very slight, and children can with great ease be

thus employed. The cultivation of the coffee-plant is much more

attended to in this province than formerly, and is gradually

taking the place of sugar. Towards the south a good deal is

cultivated for exportation.

The mantis is a very curious insect, which Rondelet, the

naturalist, says is called indifferently devin and prega diou,

or preché dieu, in consequence of having their fore-feet

extended as if preaching or praying. The Latin name of mantis

signifies ‘diviner,’ and supposed to have been so designated

from the motion they make with their fore-feet; and it was

imagined that they could divine or indicate events. The

fore-feet are used by the insect to carry food to its mouth;

it is of a beautiful green colour. In one of the Idylls of

Theocritus the term mantis is used to designate a thin young

girl with slender and elongated arms.—See Griffith’s Edition of

‘Cuvier’s Animal Kingdom.’

The banana is a plant about twelve feet high, having a stem

similar to bulbous plants in general, and the leaves, many of

them two feet wide, and from twelve to fourteen feet long,

springing from the top. The new leaf rises from the centre,

and is rolled up straight; as it increases in length, it

gradually unfolds, and gives way for another. The fruit is

green, and grows round the stem in regular semi-circular

groups. The blossoms are protected by a thick fleshy leaf-like

covering, which rises to allow the sun to have its full

influence in maturing the fruit. When the blossoms drop off,

the half-circles remain, but it is seldom that more than six

or eight rows of bananas are produced, and each smaller than

the preceding. The juices of the plant gradually lose their

nutritious qualities, and there are numerous rows of abortive

flowers, which produce nothing; and the stem is terminated by

a mass of the fleshy leaves enclosing embryo bananas never to

be matured. The plant is generally cut down when the fruit has

attained its full size, to make it shoot for the next season,

and the fruit is hung up to ripen, which it soon does, when it

becomes of a fine yellow colour.

The sunsets here are sometimes very fine, and I have noticed

that when the twilight is hastening on, a brighter glow will

appear, with very vivid and distinct bands of blue and pink,

alternately shaded off into each other, and radiating from the

spot when the sun has gone down. The difference in the apparent

sunset is about half-an-hour between winter and summer. Bright

as the sky is by day, it is brighter far by night, when the

spangled heavens are spread out like a curtain. The air is

so pure that the stars seem to shine with an increasing

brightness. The Southern Cross is a beautiful object, and so

different are the heavens from the northern hemisphere, that

nothing seems to produce the effect of the long distance from

home so much as the difference of the starry constellations.

The Milky Way seems to have received fresh refulgence; and all

is magnificence.

The small black ants found in gardens, generally in great

numbers, are the most annoying of the species; their bite

produces a burning pain, which must be partly the effect

of poison, and continues for some time. The red ants very

soon strip the foliage off trees, which they are constantly

ascending and descending, one party empty, the other loaded; a

third party remains in the tree, cutting away whole leaves, so

that it is no unusual thing to be passing under a tree, and to

see the leaves falling as it were miraculously. A fourth party

is employed cutting them up into proper sizes for carrying

to their nests. Most of these ants, if squeezed between the

fingers, emit a strong smell of lemon. Rose-buds seem to be

their most favourite food, and gardens here suffer extremely

from their ravages.

Brazil, the River Plate, and the Falkland Islands With the Cape Horn route to Australia. Including notices of Lisbon, Madeira, the Canaries, and Cape Verde. · 第 8 / 17 章