sides, we crossed what is called the dismal swamp, where so many people
lost their lives during the construction of the line; this part of the
line reminded one of the swamps about which so much has been written in
connection with the Panama Railway. The next station we came to was that
of Belem, an important place at the foot of the great mountain rise. I
may perhaps observe that many plots of land, after we left the suburbs
of Rio, were cultivated with mandioca, the great staple article of food
in this country, and doubtless much of what is now a waste will soon be
brought into requisition for the production of this commodity. At Belem
there was a good display of refreshment, substantial and light creature
comforts evidently being appreciated by the Brazilians; oranges, figs,
and sweets of various kinds were brought also to the carriage doors.
Here we exchanged the ordinary English locomotive for one of the
powerful American description, calculated to mount the hills, which we
began to ascend immediately after leaving Belem station, and here
commences the really interesting feature of the works. The American
“horse,” as it is termed, began snorting, the whistle making a
frightfully loud noise,—a sort of steam gong, which can be heard at a
very great distance. The train now twists and turns round the sharp
curves, the scenery becomes grand and imposing as we go up, and at one
point, after proceeding eight or ten miles through a succession of
tunnels and embankments, a stone could be thrown across the ridge to the
place we left. The views of the valleys, with the spurs of the hills
planted with coffee and Indian corn, are very pretty, and one is called
Paraiso, or paradise, though I think that title might be much more
appropriately applied to the valley opposite Dr. Gunning's house, which
is called the Valley of Monkeys, I suppose because many exist in the
woods there. The elevation attained on reaching Dr. Gunning's station
was upwards of 1,300 feet, in about 2½ hours from Rio, and here I was
persuaded to rest over Sunday, resuming my journey by rail on Monday
morning.
Dr. Gunning's little colony, for it quite amounts to that, took me quite
by surprise, as I was utterly ignorant of its existence. As I said
before, the valley which it overlooks might justly be termed that of
Paraiso, instead of the other we passed in ascending the mountains. It
takes a range of some 20 to 30 miles, with a series of hills or spurs
rising from it, backed by the mountains which tower over Rio de Janeiro.
The house is built on the foreground, with an extensive balcony in
front, where you sit in a rocking chair in a state of quiet ecstacy and
wonder how such an enchanting spot can be so little known in a great
city comparatively so near to it. From the balcony you can see the
trains moving upwards, popping now and again into the numerous tunnels,
there being no less than thirteen between the house and the foot of the
mountain and sixteen or seventeen over the whole line. The Doctor has
constructed two or three neat cottages on his land, and there is also
within hail a charming one erected by Mr. Gotto when he was out here as
Engineer of the Rio Improvements Company. It is situated at a point
which also commands a fine view of the noble valley, and is at present
occupied by an American merchant. The Doctor is about to build other
cottages on his land, and is laying out the site for a hotel, which
ought to be very attractive to Rio residents in search of fresh air and
renovated health. It is difficult to conceive a more lovely situation,
or one surrounded by more attractive scenery. Before dinner we took a
walk in the fine shady woods below the house, and at night enjoyed the
effect of a splendid moon from a balcony where the scene in Romeo and
Julliet might be admirably enacted, a place of all others adapted for
the interchange of “lovers' vows.” We were, however, a very
sober-minded, but pleasant party, and enjoyed ourselves with
“sweethearts and wives” over a glass of toddy. On Sunday morning I rose
early to look at one of the greatest natural curiosities it is possible
to conceive. A light vapoury mist, “white as the driven snow,” covered
the entire valley; with here and there the tops of hills appearing like
islands in a sea; indeed, one could hardly believe that what one saw was
simply mist, and not something more tangible and substantial. This
gradually disappeared as the sun topped the heights, and then all became
bright and verdant as on the previous day. Residents in the valley feel
wrapt in a kind of shroud whilst the mist is over them, but no evil
effects appear to result from it. An American missionary, Mr. Blackford,
who was for some time stationed at the city of San Paulo, and was, with
his wife, a guest of Dr. Gunning, read a portion of the Church Service
in Portuguese and preached a sermon in the same language to the
household and a number of people employed about the place, after which
we wandered about, dined, and enjoyed another quiet moonlight evening
looking over the happy valley. There is quite a little society of
Americans residing about here, which renders it anything but a solitude.
I left this hospitable retreat on Monday, by the train which passes at 8
a.m., and continued to find a series of wonderful curves and tunnels
until we reached the station of Barra, where a good comfortable
breakfast was waiting for such passengers as chose to avail of it.
I was joined by the son of Mr. Ellison, head engineer of the line, who
is making a branch near Disengano station, in the direction of San
Paulo, with which it is eventually intended to connect this province. He
made himself very agreeable, and gave me much valuable information.
I should not omit to allude to the really beautiful scenery passed
through between Entre Rios and Barra, where the passengers breakfasted.
I walked to look at a very handsome bridge erected over the River
Parahyba, which becomes here a considerable stream, running the whole
distance to Entre Rios, where it meets the Parahybuna, which comes down
from Minas Geraes, the latter emptying itself into the sea at San Joao
de Barra, after passing the important town of Campos.
The railway, which is here 122 miles in length from Rio de Janeiro, is
to be extended to another point on the Parahyba called Porto da Cunha,
making a total distance of about 160 miles, the latter portion tapping
valuable sources of traffic, as the river is only navigable a short way
from its mouth. Besides its 16 tunnels, small and great, the railway is
crossed by several handsome bridges, first to one bank of the river and
then the other, as the gradients were found favourable, and there is one
very fine station, called Disengano, a portion of the cost of which was
contributed by the Marqueza de Bependi, who has a magnificent fazenda
near to it, and numerous large picturesque fazendas are seen at
different bends of the river, which rolls along in its rocky bed, with a
succession of small rapids, the hills above it being covered with
coffee, Indian corn, and mandioca, all now ripe. Where this cultivation
does not exist either virgin forests or cattle grazing form the variety,
and the former still occupy a large portion of the country we passed
through, particularly between Uba station and that of Parahyba do Sul. I
am told that Vassoura, a city about seven miles from the station of that
name, is prettily situated and interesting, but of course it is
impossible to see everything in so extraordinary a range of country.
We reached Entre Rios station before noon, and found the stage coach
waiting; also a tolerable dinner, which the flies tried to participate
in, being only held in check by boys with large feather fans. The place,
I believe, is infested by flies from the number of mules kept there; but
the company is improving and extending the accommodation for passengers,
the head station being 800 feet in length. The guard of the “Mazeppa”
summons the passengers, and away we started with four good mules, amidst
dust and bustle, by a regular stage coach of the old English type, the
first stage being along the banks of the Rio Preto, coming down from the
mines. The road was all that had been described to me and more; a
perfectly good, smooth, macadamised one, fenced in with groups of bamboo
on the river side and aloes on the other, along which we drove at the
rate of nine to ten miles an hour. I was inside at starting, but some
passengers left at the second station, Parahybuna, when I mounted on the
front seat for the remainder of the journey, and enjoyed as fine a ride,
for good travelling and good scenery, as it is possible to conceive.
The road belongs to a Brazilian company called the “Uniao e Industria,”
started some few years back, and now carrying on a large and profitable
traffic, chiefly in merchandise; but the stage coaches are a very
important feature as regards accommodation for the public. The stations
where they change mules are large and commodious, with warehouses for
receiving produce, and that of Parahybuna is in a most picturesque
situation, a huge granite mountain on one side and in front of the
river, which rushes down over rocks, forming cascades here and there,
with a long bridge which we had to cross. A good many dwelling houses
are built about these stations, belonging, I conclude, to people
connected with the road. Our next station was Simon Pereira, about which
there is a good deal of woodland scenery, reminding one of parts of
Wales, with the road winding in and out round the hills; and on this
stage is a very fine fazenda known by the name of Solidade, the property
of the Baron Bertiago, comprising, I am told, an immense district. Here
we again come upon the mountain stream, which runs through the valley,
always forming a rapid current as we keep ascending.
The next stage was Barboza, where we came up with another diligence,
also from Petropolis, with a party, having a band of music outside, and
Portuguese and Brazilian flags flying. They kept ahead of us, but at the
last stage, Ponto Americano, a most romantic spot, we started almost
together, our companion still keeping the lead, at a strong gallop,
which our coachman imitated, and it was anything but an agreeable race
into Juiz de Fora, to say nothing of the dust we had to take up in the
wake of the front diligence. Nothing could be more beautiful than the
scenery for the last stages, coffee and Indian corn plantations
succeeded each other, mingled with virgin forests, grazing ground,
waterfalls in the distance, entire trees covered with purple and yellow
flowers, a perfect galaxy of tropical vegetation in its most attractive
forms. The evening was pleasantly cool,—so cool as to cause one to
button up his coat, and there was a sensation of freshness in the air
like that of an autumn evening at home.
As the two coaches approached Juiz de Fora a large number of its
residents turned out to see the arrival, which I believe was that of
some new settlers, who must have been gratified with their reception. We
drove on to the coach station, where I found that the gentleman I was
anxious to see had gone to his fazenda that morning, some leagues
distant; so I determined to await his return and went to a small hotel
close to, called the “Union,” where I made myself as comfortable as the
limited accommodation would permit.
[Illustration: Residence of Senhor Lage.]
Juiz de Fora is pleasantly situated on an elevated plateau, some 2,600
feet above the level of the sea, with a background of fine cultivated
hills and a very picturesque waterfall. The originator and director of
the flourishing company “Uniao e Industria” has built a magnificent
house on an elevated spot which overlooks the whole valley, and his
grounds are beautifully laid out with every species of tree to be found
in Brazil, as well as those brought from other countries. There are
ornamental waters, with swans, rare specimens of water fowl, and numbers
of valuable birds, fowls, monkeys,—in fact, a little Zoological Garden
of itself. Everything in the establishment was in keeping, evincing the
good taste of the owner and the liberal manner in which he expends his
large fortune. I had also the opportunity of going over a new building
called the School of Agriculture, where modern agricultural implements
are to be collected, as well as samples of live stock to improve the
breed of cattle. There is a capital English stallion, two years old,
descended from the celebrated Stockwell, brought out from England at
great expense; another one of Norman breed, besides brood mares, bulls,
Alderney cows—in short, the nucleus of a respectable cattle show, which
it is intended to become, and the Emperor has announced his intention to
visit the place in June next, though it will take some time to make it
complete and in a state of efficiency. An intelligent Swiss gentleman
presides over the School of Agriculture, and an English groom is very
proud, as he may well be, of the silky coat and the healthy appearance
of the descendant of Stockwell.
There is a nice little German colony at Juiz de Fora, mostly artisans in
the company's employ, who live in very snug cottages, with little
gardens attached to them, the women keeping cows, selling milk, &c. A
death had occurred the day I was there, and the funeral was attended by
all the elders of the colony, men and women, dressed in their best
clothes, forming a very interesting group. The company employ some 3,000
mules in the traffic of their line, the breakers of them, as well as the
coach drivers, being Germans. Mr. Treloar, jun., arrived from Rio with
his wife and family during my stay here, leaving the next day with a
large troop of mules, on a seven days' journey up to the mines.
Having seen all of interest in Juiz de Fora, I started on Thursday, the
9th of April, to return to Entre Rios, and thence on by the same “Uniao
e Industria” road to Petropolis, a total distance of about 107 miles. I
found the second half of the road as interesting as the first half I had
gone over—all in the same perfect state, some parts between Entre Rios
and Petropolis passing through splendid mountain scenery. Near Entre
Rios the river is crossed by a very fine iron bridge. We reached
Petropolis at dusk, amidst a shower of rain, the first I had met with on
the whole journey, during which the weather was remarkably fine and cool
in the higher ranges of the road, though hot and dusty on the level
parts. For nearly the whole fifty miles the road winds by the bed of a
rapid mountain stream, descending from the mountainous district about
Petropolis, going to swell the river of which it is the source, forming
a succession of cascades, the noise of whose waters makes “music to the
ear,” enhancing the grandeur of the scenery through which it passes as
well as cooling the atmosphere.
I should not neglect to mention the extensive cart traffic over the
road, which constitutes the real income of the company, and has enabled
it to pay the large dividend of 10 to 14 per cent. These carts are all
of one pattern, with names and numbers on them, drawn generally by five
mules, with a spare one attached. We were constantly meeting them going
up and down, and whether they have got more into the way of it, or the
mules are now better trained, we met with no such inconveniences as Mr.
Hinchcliffe describes in his book, though the windings and turnings of
the road are often of such a nature as to require a “bright look out,”
and the use of a shrill whistle—the horn being only sounded on
approaching the end of the journey. By means of the rail and coach, Rio
morning papers are delivered at Juiz de Fora, a distance of 170 miles by
rail and road, the same evening. Formerly it required a week to
communicate between the two places. A large quantity of stone is
collected along the road to keep it in order, and at certain distances
are men breaking them in the most old fashioned manner possible. They
are chiefly Portuguese immigrants.
I had not been at Petropolis for twenty years, during which time there
has been a large increase of building and population, but I was sorry to
learn that this prosperity is likely to be evanescent, in consequence of
the soil suitable for cultivation by the German colonists being worn
out, and still more by the Dom Pedro II. Railway turning the stream of
traffic, which previously to its opening to Entre Rios had continued to
flow from the mines through Petropolis and down the splendid mountain
road, conveying goods and passengers to the Mauá Railway, and thence by
steamer to Rio. Of course, the railway from Entre Rios to Rio de
Janeiro, though longer as regards mileage, is quicker and more direct,
with a saving in expense to travellers, even if produce and merchandise
were conveyed at equal rates by the two roads, but it must be the
interest of the country to keep both the roads open, as, in the case of
accidental stoppage, the Petropolis one is always available. It is not
unlikely that terms will be come to by the two companies so as to
prevent injurious competition, as the country has had to pay large sums
of money for the installation and maintenance of both roads.
I remained over Sunday at Petropolis, but it turned out a very wet day,
and I was not able to go about much, or to take advantage of the
splendid view there is from the top of the mountain down to the Bay of
Rio de Janeiro. We started at 6.30 on Monday morning in a carriage with
four mules, and descended amidst heavy rain and a dense mist, so that
none of the beauties of the locality were visible. At the foot of the
Serra, the railway train was waiting, and we soon reached the place of
embarkation by steamer, arriving at Rio about 10.30, after a week's
absence, during which I have acquired a better knowledge of the progress
and resources of this part of the country than any other means of
information could have supplied. As regards the great internal road on
which I have dwelt so much, it is decidedly one of the marvels of
Brazil.
RIO DE JANEIRO TO THE RIVER PLATE.
SECOND TRIP.
On my return to Rio on Saturday, the 11th of April I found the City of
Brussels had arrived after a very quick passage from Falmouth of twenty
days, and she was leaving next morning (Sunday) for the River; so I
resolved to go by her and complete my visit, which had been so recently
unfortunately interrupted. A difficulty occurred, owing to the police
requiring me to give three days' notice in the public papers of my
intention to leave, and they refused to _visa_ the passport I brought
with me, though it had already served on other similar occasions. The
only way to get over the obstacle was to take a surety to the police
office, who would be responsible for any debts I might have contracted,
and after driving backwards and forwards for some hours, at considerable
trouble and expense, this requirement was satisfied. This absurd and
vexatious system of passports is one of the old relics of barbarism
which Brazil ought to do away with, and the sooner the better; nor is it
any protection against roguery, as every one knows how easily such
regulations are evaded in the latter case. Countries like Brazil ought
to be as free as the air, and all possible facility given to travellers
who only come for information or amusement, and have no business
relations. Passports do not exist in the Great Republic of the North,
and France has abolished them, so let us hope Brazil will follow in the
wake, and evince equal liberality in dealing with passengers' luggage.
We were to leave at 8 a.m. on Sunday, but were detained for dispatches
until ten, and finally passed the fort at 11 a.m., with a light wind but
much swell, indicating a southerly wind, of which we got the benefit the
next day. I may mention that the City of Brussels is a splendid new
steamer of Tait's line, and made the first departure under their
contract with the Belgian Government. At Antwerp a grand entertainment
had been given to the authorities on the day of her departure, and on
Saturday a party was entertained on board at Rio.
After encountering rather a strong southerly gale, we made the River on
Thursday night, and came to an anchor off Monte Video early on Friday,
the passage having been run in five days. It blew so hard, with so much
swell on, that it was some time before we got on shore, on reaching
which I went to my old quarters at the Gran Hotel Americano, meeting
several old friends there. The aspect of Monte Video was greatly changed
for the better since my last visit, when the cholera was making such
fearful ravages and an air of activity pervaded the place,
notwithstanding the sad tragedy which had occurred in the assassination
of General Flores. Rumours of political troubles still prevailed, but
there was nothing on the surface to indicate them, and the nightly
gathering on the Plaza to hear the band had been resumed, although for
some time after the murder of the President the Plaza was held by troops
and guns planted at the corner of it.
A visit to Buchentall's quinta occupied the greater part of one day, and
a delightful place it is, enclosed in spacious grounds, provided with
choice trees, beautiful exotics, a large conservatory, and other glass
houses; in fact, with everything which a cultivated taste can devise.
There is a large kitchen garden attached, and quite a plantation of pear
trees, loaded with splendid pears, for which Monte Video is famous. The
stables and farm buildings are extensive, and, like the house, they are
in the Swiss cottage style; they are tenanted by fine horses, valuable
cows, and other descriptions of cattle. Everything is in perfect order.
The view from the upper ground, at the back of the house, is very
fine—the city, the harbour filled with shipping, and the mounts at its
entrance, the waters of the La Plata glistening beyond in the sunlight.
It is a bright, beautiful day, and certainly at this season the climate
is very agreeable, so different from the intense heat experienced in the
month of January. After leaving the quinta, we extended our drive,
passing by many pretty country houses, some of peculiar but tasteful
architecture, and stopped at a house on the road side, kept by a
Frenchman, where we got an excellent cold luncheon and drove back to the
city.
Expecting the steamer to sail the same night, we embarked before dark,
but were disappointed, the cargo not being all discharged. We did not
get away until next evening. Had we known this we might have seen the
races, which took place the following morning, to see which I believe
more than half the population turned out, the Custom House and public
buildings being closed. South Americans are fond of excitement, though
horse-racing is comparatively a new amusement for them, being chiefly
got up by foreigners. Whilst at dinner on Monday afternoon, the wind,
which had been blowing moderately from the north, suddenly veered round
to the south, and soon after we left the harbour increased to a pampero,
causing a nasty cross sea and a very disagreeable motion in the ship,
which sent most of the passengers to bed early. It is not a very
pleasant navigation in such weather, with banks lying in the way, and
shallow water in many places, and we were glad when daylight came to
find ourselves near the outer roads of Buenos Ayres. This exposed
roadstead, having to lie so far from the shore, is a great drawback,
rendering the expense of discharging and loading very heavy, but there
is no help for it, nor any prospect of improvement in this respect. They
have very fine boats and lighters, with first-rate boatmen, and, as a
rule, accidents are rare, unless when the fierce pamperos drive
everything before them.
This is my second visit to Buenos Ayres, after a lapse of 15 years, and,
although from the sea no remarkable change appears to the eye, yet,
after landing, the enormous increase of the city soon becomes apparent,
about which I shall say more presently. The Mole and Custom House were
new to me, as also the landing pier for boats—a very great convenience
and improvement on the old carts, into which you had to get from the
boat. The weather, which had been cool at Monte Video, became positively
cold here, cloaks and great coats being the order of the day. It is now
approaching the coldest season of the year, with some sharp frost at
night, which has blackened the potatoes and other vegetables outside the
city; and the sunny side of the street is decidedly preferable to the
shady one, a very different state of things to that which existed when I
was at Monte Video, in January, with the heat frequently above 90
degrees.
CITY OF BUENOS AYRES.
It is not an easy task to describe the great changes that have taken
place in this city since my visit fourteen years ago. At the same time
they are so remarkable as to require a special notice.