Madeira--Aspect of the Island--Annual races--"Hail Columbia!"--Ladies,
Cavaliers, and Peasants--Dissertation upon Wines--The Clerks of
Funchal--Decay of the Wine-Trade--Cultivation of Pine-Trees--A Night in
the Streets--Beautiful Church--A Sunday-evening Party--Currency of
Madeira.
_January_ 19, 1844.--We made Madeira yesterday, but, the weather being
thick and squally, stood off and on until to-day.
20. Our ship rides gently at her anchor. The Loo rock rises fifty feet
perpendicular from the water, at so short a distance, that we can hear the
drum beat tattoo in the small, inaccessible castle, on its summit. This
rock is the outpost of the city of Funchal. The city stretches along the
narrow strip of level ground, near the shore, with vine-clad hills rising
steeply behind. On the slopes of these eminences are many large houses,
surrounded with splendid gardens, and occupied by wealthy inhabitants,
chiefly Englishmen, who have retired upon their fortunes, or are still
engaged in business. On a height to the left, stands a castle of
considerable size, in good repair. High up among the hills, in bold
relief, is seen the church of Our Lady of the Mount, with its white walls
and two towers. The hills are rugged, steep, and furrowed with deep
ravines, along which, after the heavy rains of winter, the mountain
torrents dash headlong to the sea.
My remarks on Madeira will be thrown together without the regularity of a
daily journal; for our visit to the island proves so delightful, that it
seems better worth the while to enjoy, than to describe it.
The annual races are well attended. During their continuance, throngs of
passengers, on foot, on horseback, and in palanquins, are continually
proceeding to the course, a little more than a mile and a half from town.
The road thither constantly ascends, until you find yourself several
hundred feet above the sea, with an extensive prospect beneath and around.
A tolerable space for the track is here afforded by an oblong plain,
seven-eighths of a mile in length. Near the judges' stand was a large
collection of persons of all classes, ladies, dandies, peasants, and
jockeys. Here, too, were booths for the sale of eatables and drinkables,
and a band of music to enliven the scene.
These musicians saw fit to honor us in a very particular manner. They had
all agreed to ship on board our vessel; and, with a view to please their
new masters, when three or four of our officers rode into the course, they
played "Hail Columbia." We took off our caps in acknowledgment, and
thought it all very fine. Directly afterwards, two other officers rode in,
and were likewise saluted with "Hail Columbia!" Anon, two or three of us
dismounted and strolled about among the people, thinking nothing of the
band, until we were reminded of their proximity by the old tune again. In
short, every motion on our part, however innocent and unpretending, caused
the hills of Madeira to resound with the echoes of our national air.
Finding that our position assumed a cast of the ridiculous, we gave the
leader to understand, that, if the tune were played again, the band's
first experience of maritime life should be a flogging at the gangway. The
hint was sufficient; not only did we hear no more of "Hail Columbia," but
none of the musicians ever came near the ship.
With few exceptions the running was wretched. One or two of the
match-races (which were ten in number, all single heats, of a mile each)
were well contested. The first was run by two ponies; a fat black one with
a chubby boy on his back, and a red, which, as well as his rider, was in
better racing condition. The black was beaten out of sight. The second
race was by two other ponies, one of which took the lead, and evidently
had the heels of his antagonist. Suddenly, however, he bolted, and leaped
the wall, leaving the track to be trotted over by the slower colt. Two
grey horses succeeded, and made pretty running; but their riders, instead
of attending to business, joined hands, and rode a quarter of a mile in
this amiable attitude. Rather than antagonists, one would have taken them
for twin brethren, like two other famous horsemen, Castor and Pollux. To
the ladies this mode of racing appeared delightful; but the remarks of our
party, consisting of several English and American officers and gentlemen,
were anything but complimentary. The last quarter of this heat was well
run, one of the horses winning apparently by a neck. The judge, however, a
Portuguese, decided that it was a dead heat.
At one extremity of the course, the hill rises abruptly; and here were
hundreds of persons of both sexes, in an excellent position to see the
running, and to impart a pretty effect to the scene. A large number of
peasantry were present, dressed in their peculiar costume, and taking
great interest in the whole matter. Both men and women wear a little blue
cap lined with scarlet, so small that one wonders how it sticks on the
head. In shape it is like an inverted funnel, running up to a sharp point.
The women have short, full dresses, with capes of a dark blue, trimmed
with a lighter blue, or of scarlet with blue trimming. These colors form a
sectional distinction; the girls of the north side of the island wearing
the scarlet capes, and those of the south side, the blue. In the intervals
of the races, ladies and gentlemen cantered round the course, and some of
them raced with their friends. Three Scottish ladies, with more youth than
beauty, and dressed in their plaids, made themselves conspicuous by their
bold riding, and quite carried off the palm of horsemanship from their
cavaliers.
A sketch of Madeira would be incomplete indeed, without some mention of
its wines. Three years ago, when it was more a matter of personal
interest, I visited this island, and gained considerable information on
the subject. Madeira then produced about thirty thousand pipes annually,
one third of which was consumed on the island, one-third distilled into
brandy, and the remainder exported. About one-third of the exportation
went to the United States, and the balance to other parts of the world.
The best wines are principally sent to our own country--that is to say,
the best exported--for very little of the first-rate wine goes out of the
island. The process of adulteration is as thoroughly understood and
practised here, as anywhere else. The wine sent to the United States is a
kind that has been heated, to give it an artificial age. The mode of
operation is simply to pour the wine into large vats, and submit it for
several days to a heat of about 110º. After this ordeal, the wine is not
much improved by keeping.
There are other modes of adulteration, into the mysteries of which I was
not admitted. One fact, communicated to me by an eminent wine-merchant,
may shake the faith of our connoisseurs as to the genuineness of their
favorite beverage. It is, that, from a single pipe of "mother wine," ten
pipes are manufactured by the help of inferior wine. This "mother wine" is
that which has been selected for its excellence, and is seldom exported
pure. The wines, when fresh from the vintage, are as various in their
flavor as our cider. It is by taste and _smell_ that the various kinds
are selected, after which the poorer wines are distilled into brandy, and
the better are put in cases, and placed in store to ripen. The liquor is
from time to time racked off, and otherwise managed until ready for
exportation. It is _invariably_ "treated" with brandy. French brandy was
formerly used, which being now prohibited, that of the island is
substituted, although of an inferior quality.
Besides the "Madeira wine," so famous among convivialists, there are
others of higher price and superior estimation. There is the "Sercial,"
distinguished by a kind of Poppy taste. There is the Malmsey, or "Ladies'
wine," and the "Vina Tinta," or Madeira Claret, as it is sometimes called.
The latter is made of the black grapes, in a peculiar manner. After being
pressed, the skins of the grapes are placed in a vat, where the juice is
poured upon them and suffered to stand several days, until it has taken
the hue required. The taste of this wine is between those of Port and
Claret. There is a remarkable difference in the quality of the vintages of
the north and south sides of the island; the former not being a third part
so valuable as the latter. The poorer classes drink an inferior and acid
wine.
The vineyards are generally owned by rich proprietors, by whom they are
farmed out to the laborer, who pays half the produce when the wine has
been pressed; the government first taking its tenth. The grape-vines run
along frame-work, raised four or five feet from the ground, so as to allow
the cultivator room to weed the stalks beneath. The finest grapes are
those which grow upon the sunny side of a wall. At the season of vintage,
the grapes are placed in a kind of canoe, where they are first crushed by
men's feet (all wines, even the richest and purest, having this original
tincture of the human foot), and then pressed by a beam.
Perhaps the very finest wines in the world are to be found collected at
the suppers given by the clerks, in the large mercantile houses of
Madeira. By an established custom, when one of their corps is about to
leave the island, he gives an entertainment, to which every guest
contributes a bottle or two of wine. It is a point of honor to produce the
best; and as the clerks know, quite as well as their principals, where the
best is to be found, and as the honor of their respective houses is to be
sustained, it may well be imagined that all the _bon-vivants_ on earth,
were they to meet at one table, could hardly produce such a variety of
fine old Madeira, as the clerks of Funchal then sip and descant upon. In
no place do mercantile clerks hold so respectable a position in society as
here; owing to the tacit understanding between their principals and
themselves, that, at some future day, they are to be admitted as partners
in the houses. This is so general a rule, that the clerk seems to hold a
social position scarcely inferior to that of the head of the
establishment. They prove their claim to this high consideration, by the
zeal with which they improve their minds and cultivate their manners, in
order to fill creditably the places to which they confidently aspire.
At my second visit to Madeira, I find the wine trade at a very low ebb.
The demand from America, owing to temperance, the tariff, and partly to an
increased taste for Spanish, French, and German wines, is extremely small.
Not a cargo has been shipped thither for three years. The construction
given to the tariff, by the Secretary of the Treasury, will infuse new
life into the trade.
The hills around the city of Funchal are covered with vineyards, as far up
as the grape will grow; then come the fields of vegetables; and the
plantations of pine for the supply of the city. The island took its name
from the great quantity of wood which overshadowed it, at its first
discovery. This being long ago exhausted, considerable attention is paid
to the cultivation of the pine-tree, which produces the most profitable
kind of wood. In twelve or thirteen years, it is fit for the market, and
commands a handsome price. Far up the mountains, we saw one plantation, in
which fifty or sixty acres had been covered with pines, within a few
years; some of the infant trees being only an inch high. Thus in the
course of a morning's ride, we ascend from the region of the laughing and
luxuriant vine, into that of the stately and sombre pine; it is like being
transported by enchantment from the genial clime of Madeira into the
rugged severity of a New England forest.
In going up the mountain, the traveller encounters many peasants, both men
and women, with bundles of weeds for horses, and sticks for fire-wood,
which are carried upon the head. Thus laden, they walk several miles, and
perhaps sell their burthens for ten or twelve cents apiece. Articles
cannot easily be conveyed in any other manner, down the steep declivities
of the hills. In the city, burthens are drawn by oxen, on little drags,
which glide easily over the smooth, round pavements. The driver carries in
his hand a long mop without a handle, or what a sailor would term a "wet
swab." If any difficulty occur in drawing the load, this moist mop is
thrown before the drag, which readily glides over it.
The beggars of Funchal are numerous and importunate, and many of them
wretched enough, as, in one instance, I had occasion to witness. With a
friend, I had quitted a ball at two o'clock in the morning. The porter of
our hotel, not expecting us at so late an hour, had retired; and, as all
the family slept in the back part of the house, we were unable to awaken
them by our long and furious knocking. Several Englishmen occupied the
front apartments, but scorned to give themselves any trouble about the
matter, except to breathe a slumberous execration against the disturbers
of their sleep. On the other hand, our anathemas were louder, and quite as
bitter upon these inhospitable inmates. Finally, after half an hour's
vigorous but ineffectual assault upon the portal, we retreated in despair,
and betook ourselves to walk the streets. The night was beautifully clear,
but too cool for the enervated frame of an African voyager. We were tired
with dancing, and occasionally sat down; but the door-steps were all of
stone, and, though we buttoned our coats closely, it was impossible to
remain long inactive.
Near morning, we approached the door of the Cathedral, and were about to
seat ourselves, when we perceived a person crouching on the spot, and
apparently asleep. The slumber was not sound; for when we spoke, a young
girl, a mere rose-bud of a woman, about fourteen years of age, arose and
answered. She was very thinly clad; and, with her whole frame shivering,
the poor thing assumed an airy and mirthful deportment, to attract us. It
was grievous to imagine how many nights like this the unhappy girl was
doomed to pass, and that all her nights were such, unless when vice and
degradation procured her a temporary shelter. Ever since that hour, when I
picture the pleasant island of Madeira, with its sunshine, and its
vineyards, and its jovial inhabitants, the shadow of this miserable child
glides through the scene.
One of the most beautiful houses of worship I have ever seen, is the
English church, just outside of the city of Funchal. The edifice has no
steeple or bells, these being prohibited by the treaty between Portugal
and Great Britain, which permits the English protestants to erect
churches. You approach it through neat gravel walks, lined with the most
brilliant flowers, and these in such magnificent profusion, that the
building may be said to stand in the midst of a great flower-garden. The
aspect is certainly more agreeable, if not more appropriate, than that of
the tombstones and little hillocks which usually surround the sacred
edifice; it is one method of rendering the way to Heaven a path of
flowers. On entering the church, we perceive a circular apartment, lighted
by a dome of stained glass. The finish of the interior is perfectly neat,
but simple. The organ is fine-toned, and was skilfully played. Pleasant it
was to see again a church full of well-dressed English--those Saxon faces,
nearest of kin to our own--and to hear once more the familiar service,
after being so long shut out from consecrated walls!
Sunday is not observed with much strictness, in Madeira. On the evening of
that day, I called at a friend's house, where thirty or forty persons, all
Portuguese, were collected, without invitation. Music, dancing, and cards,
were introduced for the entertainment of the guests. The elder portion sat
down to whist; and, in a corner of the large dancing room, one of the
gentlemen established a faro-bank, which attracted most of the company to
look on, or bet. So much more powerful were the cards than the ladies,
that it was found difficult to enlist gentlemen for a single cotillion.
After a while, dancing was abandoned, and cards ruled supreme. The married
ladies made bets as freely as the gentlemen; and several younger ones,
though more reserved, yet found courage to put down their small stakes. I
observed one sweet girl of sixteen, standing over the table, and watching
the game with intense interest. Methought the game within her bosom was
for a more serious stake than that upon the table, and better worth the
observer's notice. Who should win it?--her guardian angel? or the gambling
fiend? Alas, the latter! She bashfully drew a little purse from her bosom,
and put her stake down with the rest.
The currency of Madeira is principally composed of the old-fashioned
twenty cent pieces, called cruzados, which pass at the rate of five for a
dollar. Payments of thousands of dollars are made in this coin, which, not
being profitable to remit, circulates from hand to hand.