was one of some magnitude, conveying a saint from one church to another,
and spite of wet streets after the heavy rain, a large number of people
turned out to witness and follow the participants in the ceremony.
To-day, however, being Friday, the 6th of March, was set apart for a
special occasion—a meeting, not a race of saints; and, for a wonder, the
day and night have been remarkably fine, a beautiful bright moon now
shining after the great bustle is over and the saints gone to rest,
though the illuminated altars in various parts of the city are still
glittering in all their tinsel, with numerous worshippers, after
depositing in a plate their offerings in the shape of “dumps,” a slang
phrase for copper coins. Preparatory symptoms have been going on for
some days at a sort of large closet, or “hole in the wall” of the house
opposite, belonging to an old nobleman, whose wife departed this life
to-day. The folding doors had been opened and a large blue cloth thrown
over the sanctuary from a balcony above, but still it was easy to see
that something unusual was in progress; and to-day, about the time of
the procession, the doors opened, and the curtain was withdrawn,
revealing a very pretty altar, with a cross and small figures of saints
at the top, the back parts and sides being covered with gold and silver
tinsel, and groups or garlands of artificial flowers tastefully
arranged, the whole lighted up by an immense number of candles, many of
them in silver candlesticks, provided or lent for the occasion by
devotees. There were about a dozen or more of these old cupboard altars
decked out, each apparently vying for supremacy in effect. But I am
forgetting the procession itself, which began to form at five o'clock,
accompanied by the usual paraphernalia—a number of young girls dressed
up as angels, bands of music, soldiers with fixed bayonets, the
President of the Province, and all the dignitaries, with the high priest
under a canopy and his attendants as before, whilst in front and behind
walked the multitude. The meeting of the saints took place close to the
hotel, where a halt was made, and a stout ecclesiastic (the bishop's
secretary, I believe), for whom a very large pulpit had been temporarily
erected at the corner of four streets, addressed a very energetic
discourse to the multitude, until his voice began to get rather squeaky,
nor could very much be made of what he said beyond that his listeners
were a very bad lot, and required all the intervention of the saints
before them to save them from perdition. The sermon ended, some music
and singing took place before the altar opposite to our hotel, after
which the procession went on, passing all the street altars, and this
part of the ceremony ended when the saints were fairly housed. For
hours, however, before the bright gaudy altars, and the still brighter
moon, the whole population of the place passed in review, making their
reverence and depositing their “dumps” or offertories.
Whether or not these ceremonies are conducive to the maintenance of the
Roman Catholic Religion I cannot pretend to say, but certainly they are
preserved here in all their original stage effect (for it can be called
nothing else) just as I first recollect them in Brazil. I understand
that in other parts of the Empire they have much fallen off. San Paulo
has been more or less isolated, and it is only since the opening of the
railway that the foreign element has been introduced. Formerly a voyage
to Rio de Janeiro was quite an undertaking; now, by rail and steam, it
is an affair of two days. One thing is very clear, that processions and
religious observances of this kind are very popular here. It is quite
astounding to see the number of people filling the streets, mostly
dressed in their best garments, but to-day the ladies wore chiefly
black. On the other hand, the black women—the “swells,” as they are
called—prefer bright colours, and generally in good taste—white and
coloured muslin, with gay shawls thrown over their ample figures, many
of them very tall, fine looking women. Considering the dull, monotonous
life here, these religious festivals are unquestionably a great relief
to the female portion of the population, with whatever motive they may
attend them; nor can one help being struck with their apparent
earnestness of worship to dumb idols, and the constant stream of “dumps”
poured into the plates by high and low, rich and poor, the latter
bestowing their mite freely. A parade over the city on such occasions in
their best attire, and the opportunity for showing off, has no doubt
some influence, but this may be combined with religious feeling,
according to their interpretation of it. Amongst the numerous votaries
present I may mention the hardy, bronzed, country race, men who travel
over the country with mules, leading the life of gipsies, and not unlike
them, wrapped in a kind of coloured “poncho,” similar to that worn in
the River Plate. They almost live in the saddle, and are a very fine
class of men—true Paulistos. But I see they are putting out the lights
at the altar opposite, so it is time to extinguish mine and go to bed,
as the clock is just striking midnight. To-morrow the folding-doors will
be closed, and appear as the ordinary appendages of the house, leaving
“not a wreck behind,” except a few leaves of dead flowers scattered
about the streets.
After a night's rest, I find that things have assumed their usual quiet
course, enlivened only by the continued favourable news from the seat of
war, which keeps the church bells going, rockets firing, and bands of
music parading the streets at night. These public demonstrations have
been of the most lively kind, assisted by a bright moon, without a cloud
in the sky; indeed you can see to read by its rays. Moonlight nights are
agreeable in any country, but in these tropical countries they seem to
have an influence both on body and mind, refreshing the physique and
raising the spirits. The atmosphere at this elevated spot is so cool at
night that, however hot the day, you sleep in comparative comfort, and
awake to enjoy the cool breeze of the early morning.
I took a ride in company with Mrs. Burton in the direction of what is
called the Luz, past the railway station, where are numerous country
houses, and a handsome bridge over the Tieté, after which the road goes
through low ground, now entirely flooded, forming a swamp of many miles
in extent. A couple of miles further on brings you to a rather sharp
hill, on which is a small, rough-looking chapel, never finished, where
people come on a kind of pilgrimage, or to enjoy the beautiful view from
it. Looking back, the city of San Paulo is seen to much advantage, and
to the left, some thirty-five miles distant, appear the spurs of the
mountains, past which the railway runs to Santos. In the opposite
direction, and apparently much nearer than they are, you see the chain
of hills through which the railway proceeds to Jundiahy, the celebrated
Jaraguay (or gold mountain) to the left of them, standing out very
boldly in the light of the setting sun. Altogether it is considered one
of the prettiest short rides about the place, there being a great
variety of them. The site of the chapel also enjoys the reputation of
being in the exact line of the tropic of Capricorn, so that San Paulo is
just outside it. We reined up a short time to enjoy the prospect and
then cantered back for dinner.
A perusal of accounts from England by the last mail, and of those from
the River Plate, form a very agreeable diversion to the otherwise
monotonous life one has to lead here, although my visit has been an
exception to the rule in this respect from the occurrences detailed in
previous pages. It is impossible to read the official and private
communications from the River without feeling deeply grieved at the
tragic scenes that have lately been acted there. The correspondent of
the _Jornal do Commercio_ at Monte Video gives a very graphic account of
the assassination of poor General Flores and the events arising out of
it; and I incline to believe that, however deplorable, they nipped in
the bud a very formidable conspiracy, which, had it been successful,
would have deluged Uruguay with blood for a long time, and might
otherwise have complicated the position of things, as there can be
little doubt the first act of the Blanco party would have been to do
away with the Triple Alliance, so far as Monte Video is concerned, and
to institute a renewal of their insulting conduct towards Brazil. The
changed aspect of the war, with a prospect of its speedy termination,
will strengthen the hands of the Colorados, and, it is to be hoped,
maintain peace and order in the little Republic. The writer already
mentioned goes into very minute details of the passage of Humaita by the
Brazilian ironclads; and there is quite a tinge of romance attached to
their performances, which certainly reflect the highest credit on the
gallantry of the commanders and crews; nor less so the victory obtained
by the Marquis de Caxias, the combined effects of which must lead to the
occupation of Asuncion and to the ultimate surrender or destruction of
Lopez himself. That his resistance has been wonderfully stubborn no one
can deny; still less the pertinacity which has distinguished the conduct
of the allies under difficulties pronounced by some first-rate military
authorities to be insurmountable.
I have not yet referred to the theatrical performances now going on
here, with a company from one of the Rio theatres, which draws crowded
houses in a building almost as large as Covent Garden. It is in a very
improvised state, but sufficiently got up to answer the purpose; and in
a climate like this external appearances are not much thought of
provided there is enough ventilation, which is certainly the case in the
San Paulo Theatre. A stranger cannot help feeling surprised on entering
to see so large a place, having three tiers of boxes, filled chiefly by
well-dressed ladies, and a gallery for what we term the “gods,” the
gentlemen being in the pit, which holds fully 500 people and was quite
crowded. Each one has what we call a stall, but here cane seats, with
backs, divided by arms, so that you are very comfortably seated. The
large attendance is explained by the circumstance of the city being
dependent on casual performances, and of course everybody is anxious to
take advantage of the opportunity. There is no regular company attached
to the theatre, but the attendance, appearance, and dress of the ladies
of San Paulo on these occasions will compare favourably with what is
presented in any city of South America. As to the performance, it is
usually a compilation from some French rubbishy novel; but the acting is
tolerably good, and the audience attentive, sitting patiently for the
five or six hours commonly occupied by the piece—a very great objection.
To-day—March 16—is the first of term at the College, where a strong
muster of students took place at an early hour of the morning, and I
believe that some of the ceremonials that occur on such occasions at
Oxford and Cambridge also prevail here. The presence of nearly a
thousand students gives a tone of animation to the old city, and is a
set-off to the constant creaking of waggon wheels and the tinkling of
bells of mules, which indicate its commercial character. Brazil is
chiefly indebted to this city for a swarm of lawyers, many of whom have
been, and continue to be, distinguished men, but it would be far better
for the country if many of them were brought up to agricultural or
commercial pursuits.
In the seaport towns the Portuguese continue to act as the chief
traders, but in the interior the latter are mostly Brazilians. There is
now the army, the navy, and the engineering pursuits open to the youth
of Brazil, and I have no doubt they will by degrees take up positions
more beneficial to their country than that of mere disputants, or
lawyers, which characters are sadly too numerous.
Took an early ride to the north of San Paulo on the 17th, from whence
there was a fine view of an extensive valley, where the mist was rising
and floating away to the distant hills on the other side. We met troops
of mules coming in with their drivers in their picturesque coloured
ponchos, and also a group of women approaching the city. Skirting a wood
to the left, through some pretty looking scenery, we came upon the new
Santos road, made a few years back at great expense; and a most
admirable road it is, but, it appears, not much used since the railway
was opened, passing through a most admirable road it is, but it appears,
not much used since the railway was opened, passing through a poor,
uncultivated country. If the large amount expended on this road had been
laid out at the terminus of the line at Jundiahy, towards the coffee
producing districts, it might have been of much greater importance to
the Province. Odd enough, it was made in opposition to the railway,
although it must have been evident that the latter would take a large
portion of the traffic, and that that by mules from San Paulo to Santos
would be greatly reduced. The projectors, who were chiefly large coffee
growers of the Province, might have supposed a good road to Santos would
keep a check on the railway as to charges of transit, and be used in
case of any partial stoppage of the railway; but unfortunately the heavy
rains which shut up the latter for a time also injured the common road,
rendering it impassable in places.
Before leaving the City of San Paulo, where I have spent several
pleasant weeks, I went over what is called the House of Correction, but
is in fact a criminal reformatory for the Province and admirably
managed. The building is in a fine open space near the railway station,
enclosed on a large square plot of ground, surrounded by high walls,
inside which are gardens beautifully laid out, and kept in order by the
inmates. The main portion of the building converges into a central point
by means of arched roofs, lighted from the top, the cells abutting on
the corridors which lead thereto. Here there is also a circular raised
stone altar, on which mass is performed, and heard in all the cells
through an open iron grating with which each is provided. The workshops
are apart, leading off the garden, and consist of various trades suited
to the acquirements of the criminals; there being also a school, where
they are taught to read and write. They come to these workshops from the
main building in groups, each individual having a mark or number to
distinguish him by, and they are accompanied by a guard. The workshops
have doors with open gratings, but secured by a strong lock and key, a
sentinel doing duty during the time the men are occupied at labour, with
a time master seated in a kind of elevated pulpit to see that the work
allotted to every individual be properly done. In approaching or leaving
the workshops the men all walk with folded arms, and the whole being on
the silent system of punishment, no one is allowed to speak, except, I
conclude, when some question has to be asked through the warder or other
officer of the establishment, the discipline of which is admirably
maintained. The inmates are about 120 in number, most of them convicted
of serious crimes; they have here a dejected look, but I believe, on the
whole, the system is found to be a very efficacious one, and does really
lead to reformation of character. No female criminals are admitted, but
I understand a ward is to be built for them. We were conducted over the
establishment by the Governor, a retired colonel in the army,
accompanied by Senhor Leite Moraes, a distinguished member of the
Provincial Assembly. Much attention was shown us, and some refreshment
was provided for us in the Governor's room. Near to the reformatory,
abutting on the railway station, are the public gardens of San Paulo, on
which a good deal of money has been spent. They are well laid-out, but
not kept in order, one of the chronic defects of these kind of places in
South America generally.
SAN PAULO TO SANTOS AND RIO DE JANEIRO.
We finally left San Paulo after a very agreeable visit, on the 25th of
March, by the 9.30 train for Santos, with a tolerable number of
passengers, and some friends who kindly accompanied us on our journey.
Between San Paulo and San Bernardo station, a distance of about ten
miles, the road is tolerably level, and the country more or less open,
though uncultivated save in small plots. At this station I got upon the
engine with Mr. Fox, and came upon sharp curves and many cuttings until
we reached Rio Grande Station, after which, for a distance of seven
miles, the works are very heavy, some of the inclines being one in fifty
and one in sixty. Nothing near but dense forests, without a human
habitation to be seen. Approaching the top of the Serra, it appeared
completely shut in by the range of mountains in front of us, the road
winding and twisting till we suddenly reached the small platform, whence
the descent of the mountain begins, and a glorious prospect opens out of
the valley below, with the sea in the distance; yet not without a vague
feeling of anxiety as to the novel position in which we find ourselves
placed. I was allowed to ride on the break again, and it is certainly a
wonderful sight, whilst being slowly let down the lifts which I have
before described. The day was light and the atmosphere clear, the light
and shade on the dense mass of foliage with which the mountains are
clothed appearing to great advantage, like a huge carpet spread over the
face of nature. It is decidedly worth a visit from Europe to go over the
railway, and few can help wondering how it was ever made, under what
must have appeared almost insurmountable difficulties in such a country
and such a climate; the pioneers obliged to live in the forests and
often short of the necessaries of life. Without traversing the line it
is impossible to form any idea of the magnitude of the undertaking, or
how the boilers and machinery for the stationary engines were dragged up
the mountains, almost without a track, much less a road, for a total
height of 2,600 feet above the level of the sea. The Paulistos ought to
be proud of their railway, and Englishmen of the skill and endurance of
their countrymen in making it; at the same time, it cannot be denied
that many errors of construction have been committed, and even at the
present moment the working power of the line is crippled for want of
locomotives, besides which those on the metals are not adapted to it, as
I have previously explained. Red-tapery and official conceit have
produced the same result here as in other places, to give way eventually
to a practical common sense view of things; not without entailing,
however, losses upon the unfortunate shareholders. The line being again
open throughout, a considerable arrear of traffic is waiting to come
down from Jundiahy, which will severely tax the insufficient rolling
stock and locomotive power at the disposal of the manager; but at all
events it is satisfactory to know that the traffic is likely to be a
steady one, with a considerable future prospect when once its
requirements are fairly met by the company.
We reached the foot of the Serra before noon, and at one o'clock we were
at Santos station, the whole distance from San Paulo to Santos being 48⅞
miles; rather a long time on the way, but the Serra itself takes an
hour, and there are several stoppages at the stations. Some time is also
occupied in waiting at the foot of the Serra for the second portion of
the train (it is divided into three carriages each lift) to come down
and join before proceeding forward. This process of course takes place
both ways. Contrast this system, however, with that of pack mules, and
what an immense stride does it represent in the means of transit and
communication.
Santos was cooler than when we went there before, and the day was fine
and bright. The steamer did not sail until four o'clock, so we strolled
about and got some dinner. The departure was punctual, and sailing down
the river to the bar the surrounding scenery, tinged by the glowing
afternoon sun, gave everything a very cheerful, though grandly
picturesque aspect. The friends who had kindly accompanied us from San
Paulo here left us in a boat, to land at the bar, which is a favourite
watering place, and where many nice cottages are built. We steamed on,
passed the small fort, and were soon in the open Atlantic, the boat
dancing about more than was agreeable to some of the passengers, who
soon disappeared below. The Santa Maria is a powerful boat, steaming her
twelve knots an hour, with very good accommodation; but the wind and sea
being against us, we did not get into Rio harbour before noon the next
day, taking 20 hours for a distance of about 180 miles.
TRIP TO JUIZ DE FORA.—THE DOM PEDRO SEGUNDO RAILWAY.
To estimate the resources of a country with such an enormous extent of
territory as Brazil by the quantity of cotton, sugar, coffee, or other
products she actually exports, or by the extent of the towns and cities
on her seaboard, would be to form a very inadequate idea of what those
resources are capable of becoming by means of imported labour, the
extension of railways, and other transport facilities in the shape of
good roads. Even with the present limited population, railways are
calculated to swell enormously the amount of Brazilian productions, as
they naturally lead to the opening out of other modes of
intercommunication, and draw towards them subsidiary streams of traffic,
which have hitherto been unable to find a vent. It is only when a
railway penetrates the primeval forests, and goes into the heart of a
country, that an adequate idea can be formed of what it is capable of
being made, or that the state of existing cultivation can be seen under
all the drawbacks arising from the want of labour, added to the
difficult and expensive means of transport. This has been very clearly
shown in the case of the San Paulo Railway, which, with the proposed
extension to Campinas, will reach at once the great producing districts,
and enable the cultivators of them to make their calculations to a
nicety as to the cost of laying down their coffee or cotton at the port
of Santos, and whether or not it can repay them to extend their
production with the means at present under their command. The result
will doubtless be a very large addition to the exports from Santos.
But to return to the Dom Pedro II. Railway. On the day previous to my
leaving Rio, I had made the acquaintance, through the introduction of a
friend at home, of Dr. Gunning, who, I found to my surprise, lived some
fifty miles up the line, and he very kindly invited me to remain the
night with them, instead of going on direct to Entre Rios. Accordingly
at noon the next day, (the 4th April), we started by a train that only
runs at that hour on Saturday, the ordinary ones being at 5 a.m., which
involves getting up in the middle of the night to those who are any
distance from the station. The train was a very full one, and I had to
be content with a seat on my own portmanteau at the beginning of my
journey, the carriage being open, and built in the American style, with
sofas and chairs round the sides. The station is large and commodious,
with plenty of sheds and warehouses for receiving produce. The pace was
pretty good; the train passing the suburbs of the city, then the
abatoirs, where cattle are slaughtered, with hundreds of the large black
vultures hovering about; afterwards going through the Emperor's grounds
and not far from his palace. Many fine country houses are near the line,
which become fewer in number until we reach the first station called
Sapepomba, at a short distance from which is a fine estate belonging; to
the Baron de Mauá, whose name is a household word in Brazil. This estate
is worked by an American, who married an adopted daughter of the Baron,
and has now a very large tract of sugar cane under cultivation. It
presents in other respects all the evidence of good management. The
public road runs close to the station. We proceed through lowlands, with
cattle grazing on some of them, until we reached the station of
Machabamba, in the neighbourhood of which the Baron de Bomfim has also a
large sugar estate as well as ground for grazing cattle. At this
station, as at most others, were so-called hotels, where eating and
drinking is carried on much after the fashion in other countries, and a
number of passengers got out apparently to spend the Sunday in the
country.