RIO DE JANEIRO.
_Sept. 4th._—Land was descried at ten o’clock, on the morning of the 1st
inst., and before noon we had Cape Frio in full view, twenty miles
distant. Isolated from other highlands of the coast, it stands out
boldly and loftily in the ocean; and, after being once seen, is not
easily to be mistaken in its outline. We were rushing onward, before a
fresh trade-wind beneath a brilliant sky, at the rate of eleven miles
the hour; and at twelve o’clock, hauling closely round the Cape to the
westward, opened a lofty and picturesque mountain coast on our right.
The speed at which we were sailing was in itself sufficient to produce
great exhilaration. Add to this, the beauty of the sportive sea—leaping,
foaming, and sparkling around us; the varied and noble outlines of the
shore; the objects of increasing interest coming hourly in view, with
the assurance of an early termination of our passage, and you can
readily imagine that by nightfall, the continued excitement became
almost painful. As darkness began to gather round us, the faint outlines
of the famed Sugar Loaf marking the entrance to the harbor of Rio, were
discernible; and the first gleamings of the light on Rasa Island, some
seven miles seaward from it, came cheerily upon the eye. The wind still
continued fresh, and we had the prospect of entering the port at night;
but, just as we were attempting to do so by heading into the channel,
the breeze died suddenly away, and we dropped anchor on what is called
the “rolling ground.” The appropriateness of this name was fully
demonstrated to us before morning, by a depth of rolling on the part of
our good ship in a dead calm, which we had not before experienced in the
heaviest weather at sea.
As for myself, I was more than content to pass a restless night from
this cause, rather than lose the opportunity of entering the harbor by
daylight. I was anxious to test the fidelity of the impressions received
twenty years ago from the same scenery; and to determine how far the
magnificent picture, still lingering in my memory, was justified by the
reality, or how far it was to be attributed to the enthusiasm of younger
years and the freshness of less experienced travel. The early light of
the morning quickly determined the point. I was hurried to the deck by a
message from Lieut. R—— already there; and do not recollect ever to have
been impressed with higher admiration by any picture in still life, than
by the group of mountains and the coast scene, meeting my eyes on the
left, as I ascended the poop. The wildness and sublimity of outline of
the Pao d’Assucar, Duos Hermanos, Gavia and Corcovado, and their
fantastic combinations, from the point at which we viewed them, can
scarce be rivalled, while the richness and beauty of coloring thrown
over and around the whole in purple and gold, rose color and ethereal
blue, were all that the varied and glowing tints of the rising day ever
impart. No fancy sketch of fairy land could surpass this scene, and we
stood gazing upon it as if fascinated by the work of a master hand.
The pyramidal hills on the eastern side of the channel are less lofty
and less wild than these, but impressive in their massiveness, and
beautiful in the verdure of various growth clinging to their steep sides
and mantling their summits. Together they form a portal to Rio worthy,
not only the city, but the vast and magnificent empire of which it is
the metropolis.
There was full leisure for the enjoyment of the scene, for the
sea-breeze did not set in, with sufficient strength to enable us to get
under way, till after mid-day. In the mean time I secured a drawing,
while a thorough ship-cleaning was going on, both inside and out. This
was so satisfactorily accomplished by four hundred busy hands, before
the breeze would allow of taking our anchor, that, with the crew freshly
dressed in a uniform of white and new summer hats, we looked, on taking
our position among the men-of-war at anchor, more like a ship on a
gala-day in port, than one just arrived from sea.
The width of the entrance is a mile, though the loftiness of the granite
shafts by which it is formed, gives the impression of its being much
narrower. The Sugar Loaf on the left—the naked peak of a mountain of
rock whose broad base lies far below in the great deep—rises, with a
slight leaning westward, to an elevation of twelve hundred and
ninety-two feet according to the measurement of Captain Beechy. The
corresponding mass on the eastern side, less isolated and more rounded,
is six or seven hundred only. At the base of this, upon a tongue of rock
projecting into the channel, is the strong and massively built fortress
of Santa Cruz, against whose Cyclopean foundations the swell from the
open sea beats heavily. Its white walls and embattled parapets, pharos
lantern and telegraph fixtures, with the imperial flag of green and gold
flaunting in the breeze, are the first features of civilization meeting
the eye: all else along the coast looks as primitive and untamed as on
the day it was first discovered.
From the point at which we were at anchor, little within the harbor
could be seen: a small fortified islet or two, the tall masts of the
shipping at the man-of-war anchorage, distant five miles, and the faint
outlines of the Organ mountains in the far north. But on passing the
Sugar Loaf and fort the bay opens, and the extent and magnificence of
its leading features are rapidly disclosed. The mountain group, which so
impressed us in the morning and seemed to belong exclusively to the
outside, is found to constitute in new aspects and relative positions,
the grand outline of the western side within.
To these aspects of nature there was soon added the charm of art. Long
lines of imposing edifices edge the shores; white cottages and villas
sprinkle the hill-sides and crest the mountain ridges; while church
steeples and convent towers and the thickened masses of building in the
city gradually rise to view.
As our ship moved gently onward the effect was like the unfolding of a
panoramic picture. First came the land-locked bay of Botafogo, backed
and overhung by the lofty peaks of the Hermanos and Gavia—its circular
shores and sweeping sand-beach being embellished with a palace-like
hospital and numerous suburban residences of the aristocratic and
wealthy. Then the green and picturesque valley of the Larangeiras, with
cottages hanging like birds’ nests on its hill-sides, beneath the wooded
cliffs and naked summit of the Corcovado; followed quickly by the bay of
Flamengo, the Gloria hill, the hills of Santa Theresa and San Antonio
crowned by their convents, Castle hill with its Capuchin monastery and
old bastions, the hill of San Bento, and the entire city overtopped by
the mountainous range and bell-shaped peak of Tejuca.
While these objects on the left successively absorb the attention, on
the right a precipitous range of granite hills, extending two or three
miles northward from the fortress of Santa Cruz, falls sheer into the
water like the Highlands of the Hudson. It terminates in a bold
promontory which divides a deep, circular inlet, called the bay of St.
Francis Xavier, from the chief harbor, and which from some points of
view is strikingly in the form of a colossal lion couchant, with the
head settled backward in stateliness upon the shoulders. At the further
distance of a mile a picturesque cliff-bound little islet—evidently once
a part of the adjoining mainland—marks the northern entrance to this
inner bay. Surmounted by a white chapel facing the sea, dedicated to
“our Lady of good voyages,” the special patroness of the sailor, it is a
conspicuous and interesting feature in the topography, the first and the
last upon which the ignorant and superstitious among voyagers and
seafaring men, have long been accustomed to fix their eyes on entering
and on leaving port. Beyond this, upon a widely sweeping beach, stretch
the populous rural suburbs of Praya Domingo and Praya Grande,
immediately facing the city. These terminate in a lofty rounded hill,
partly under cultivation and partly in wood, which cuts off all further
view northward, except clusters of islands on the distant waters, and
the far-off mountains rising six thousand feet against the sky. The
whole was seen by us under the strong lights and shades of the
afternoon, as with a light sea-breeze we floated gently up and dropped
anchor abreast the city, midway from either shore. A cluster of
men-of-war were moored inside of us, from whose mast-heads floated the
national flags of England, Portugal and Brazil, but none bearing the
stripes and stars of the United States.
Towards night the coloring thrown over mountains and valleys, city and
bay, was most gorgeous. A light haze, like that of Indian summer at
home, characterized the atmosphere; through this, the sun shone in fiery
redness, empurpling the mountains, gilding dome and steeple and convent
tower, and spreading a crimson glow over the entire bay. I have been
thus minute in the description of the panorama surrounding us, because
these winding shores and curving beaches, these verdant hills and
towering mountains, are for many months in two or three successive
years, to be the objects of hourly observation and the haunts of my
daily rambles. The Sugar Loaf and the Corcovado, the Gavia and the Peak
of Tejuca, Gloria hill, Botafogo, Praya Grande and the Organ mountains,
will become in my communications to you, familiar as household words.
Admiration of the natural scenery was not the only feeling of which I
was conscious, in advancing up the harbor. Remembrances of the past came
unbidden to my mind and heart. With the first opening view of the Praya
Flamengo, I was quick in my search with a glass among its mansions, for
the dwelling which during my former visit had been to me a happy home.
It was easily distinguished in its unchanged exterior. But where was the
brilliant and accomplished diplomatist, whose genial spirit and polished
mind gave such charm to its hospitalities? Long a tenant of the tomb!
and I could not but recall the fact, that, with him, every one whose
acquaintance I had here made—an acquaintanceship which, in some
instances, from after intercourse, ripened into mature friendship—was
also in the world of spirits: Tudor, Otway, Inglefield and Walsh, all
gone. A generation had well-nigh passed away; and all was changed. A new
Emperor was on the throne—a new Bishop over the see: there was no one to
meet, and no one to look upon, whom I had ever seen before.
It was the predominance of feelings such as these that led, in my first
visit on shore, to a solitary pilgrimage to the former Embassy, to look
once more upon its familiar portal—now in possession of strangers,—and
on my return at eventide through the embowered pathways of the Gloria
hill, to think what a dream is life, and how vain as an abiding good,
the highest attainments and most honored positions gained by man on
earth.
_September 6th._—Rio de Janeiro, if not built like Rome on seven hills,
can boast an equal number around the bases of which her streets and
dwellings closely cluster. The bright verdure of these—in tufted groves
and shrubbery and in gleaming turf—as they rise abruptly here and there,
from one to two hundred feet above the red-tiled penthouse roofs of the
dwellings and the sombre turret and towers of church and convent, adds
greatly to the beauty of the city, whether seen from shipboard, or in
vistas at the end of the streets, on shore. One of the most conspicuous
and lofty is Castle hill, so called from being surmounted at one of its
angles, by the ramparts and dismantled batteries of a small fort,
erected by the first colonists. It is also called by foreigners, Signal
hill—from being the telegraphic station to which the movements of all
shipping in the offing is made known, by signals from other stations at
the entrance of the harbor and along the coast. Besides the ruin of the
ancient fortress and the fixtures of the telegraph, it is conspicuously
marked by the double-pinnacled church of a former Capuchin monastery,
and by the old college of the Jesuits, both now converted to the use of
the public—the one as a military hospital, and the other a medical
school. The hill juts so closely on the bay as to interrupt, for a half
a mile, the line of the city along the water, and to leave room only for
a single street. This is not built upon, but being open to the
sea-breeze and commanding a fine water view, is much frequented as a
drive and promenade in the afternoon and evening. Inland from Castle
hill, and separated from it by what was once a deep glen, but now a
densely inhabited part of the city, rises the hill of San Antonio, so
called from being the possession of a brotherhood of that name, whose
convent stands in massive dimensions on its brow. These hills occupy the
centre of the city, while that of San Bento, also crowned by a stately
convent; that known as the Bishop’s hill, from being surmounted by the
Episcopal palace; and the hill of Lavradio, are on its northern side.
The hills of Santa Theresa and Gloria, thus named—the one from a
nunnery, and the other from a church dedicated to our Lady of Glory, are
on the south. All originally rose from and encircled a marsh, the site
of the present metropolis. Till within the last half century, the whole
city then containing only some thirty thousand inhabitants, lay between
Castle hill and the hill of San Bento, a distance of less than a half
mile as a water front, in a parallelogram of rectangular streets
extending about as far inland. This section is still regular; but in
most others since built, the streets follow the curvature of the hills
at their bases, and straggle from these, in every direction, up the
ravines intervening between the spurs running from the mountains to the
plain. The streets in general are narrow, and roughly paved with
cobble-stones: the sidewalks being comfortable for two persons only
abreast. The population is now about 200,000—including the suburbs which
are very extensive, and reach south some five miles and nearly the same
distance west; while Praya Domingo and Praya Grande, on the opposite
side of the bay, form quite a town in themselves.
The general climate of Brazil from its great equality has been regarded
as one of the most salubrious and healthful of the tropical regions of
the world. Before the Congress left the United States, however, it was
known that within the last year the yellow fever had made its appearance
along the seaboard, and had raged with great mortality in the principal
cities; especially in Pernambuco, Bahia, and Rio de Janeiro. We were
uncertain what the state of health might be on our arrival; and were
thankful to learn, by the first boat boarding us, that the epidemic had
ceased, after frightful ravages among natives and foreigners, both
afloat and on shore. The business of the port was almost suspended by
its virulence for six or eight months; the citizens in great numbers
having fled to the country, while the shipping put to sea. The general
health is now good, public confidence is restored, and the inhabitants
have returned to their shops and dwellings.
The origin of the pestilence is a mooted point here, among medical men
of the most distinguished talent and experience. Some contend that it
was imported from Africa by slave ships; others that it was introduced
at Pernambuco in a ship from New Orleans; and others again believe it to
be of domestic generation, connected with atmospherical phenomena, thus
far inscrutable to the observations of man. This last opinion is
supported by changes of a meteorological character universally
acknowledged: one the interruption, amounting almost to an entire
cessation, of thunder-storms in the afternoons, formerly of such regular
daily occurrence, that appointments for business or pleasure were made
in reference to them, as to taking place “before” or “after the shower.”
It is a fact also attested by medical men, that of late years, marked
modifications for the worse have been observed in the types of fever
prevalent, till their malignancy reached the climax just experienced.
There was, too, at the commencement and during the continuation of the
pestilence, a stagnation and want of elasticity in the atmosphere, from
the cessation to a great degree of the fresh and regular winds from the
sea, very perceptible and very oppressive: all confirmatory of the
belief that the sickness was atmospheric and indigenous. History and
tradition are also brought to support this supposition; nearly a century
ago, a similar pestilence is said to have prevailed in Rio, with the
same devastating effect; and records of the years 1666, 1686, and 1694,
bear testimony to visitations of a like kind. There is reason therefore
to hope that the scourge will disappear as it has done before, and not
become annual and endemic as in the West Indies.
The weather now is as delightful as can be imagined, with a clearness
and brilliancy of atmosphere like that on the Hudson in the month of
June, throwing an enchantment around the scenery of the bay perfectly
irresistible.
_September 10th._—The first two or three days after our arrival were
marked chiefly by an interchange of visits of ceremony, between the
officers chief in command of the foreign squadrons near us and our ship;
accompanied by a succession of salutes deafening to the ears, filling
the pure atmosphere of the heavens with smoke and sulphur, and awakening
in tones of thunder the ten thousand echoes of the adjoining mountains.
In no harbor in the world, perhaps, is more powder wasted in the course
of a year than in this. There seems ever to be among the Brazilians some
new occasion for a salute. On the day of our arrival, in the course of a
half hour the Congress alone fired eighty heavily charged thirty-four
pounders: all of which were answered in the same space of time, gun for
gun. Two of the intervening days since have been fête days on shore,
calling for three separate salutes—morning, noon, and night—of
twenty-one guns from all the forts and Brazilian men-of-war in the
harbor, and at mid-day a general one of the same number, from all the
flag-ships of the foreign squadrons. A commutation for the powder thus
annually wasted, would be a princely income for any one securing it.
These observances of etiquette afloat well through with, Commodore
McKeever invited me yesterday morning to join him, Captain McIntosh and
Lieut. T——, in visits on shore to the American Ambassador, and others of
our countrymen in official positions, and to Mr. H——, a leading English
merchant, who had called on board the Congress early after our arrival.
In 1829, and till within a year or two past, the principal landing was
in the centre of the city upon an inclined plane of solid masonry,
descending into the water so as to be accessible by boats at any state
of the tide; this conducted to a fine mole of granite, parapetted with
stone, and forming one side of the palace square. Against the flush wall
of this mole the water rose high, carrying off into the current, in its
reflow, the offensive matter, which in want of sewers is cast along the
shores of the city at night. An extension of the square on the bay is
now in progress, however, by the driving of piles and filling in with
earth and rubbish; and the landing is at a temporary stairs and platform
of wood, at an adjoining point, in the midst of outpourings of filth
disgusting to the senses, and making impressions on the stranger most
unfavorable as to the purity and civilization of the imperial city. A
carriage had been ordered for us here, and in its style and appointments
we had evidence, at once, of the improvement in equipages which has been
made since my last visit. Then, the old-fashioned Portuguese Calesa, or
chaise, and a clumsy close-carriage on leathern braces, of a similar
style and date, were universally in use. I do not recollect to have seen
vehicles of any other kind, except the imperial carriages and those of
the British Ambassador. Now, although the Calesa is still frequently
met, and occasionally its con-frere in antiquity, the low open
four-wheeled carriage of the fashion and finish of those most modern in
New York, London and Paris, and equal to them in all their appointments,
is in general use. Besides many livery stables at which these may be
found, stands of them occupy the Palace Square and other public points
at all hours of the day. Twenty years ago, mules only were driven,
except in the instances above mentioned; but, now, fine showy horses are
as often seen in the turn-out. The carriage we entered was drawn by a
pair of spirited, sleek, long-tailed blacks. The coachman in a livery of
sky-blue and silver, made aware, by the broad pennant of the many-oared
barge in which we came on shore, and by the lace and epaulettes of my
companions, of the rank of some of the party, dashed off with a flourish
of whip and a prancing of his beasts that won the admiration of the
bystanders. He kept for the whole morning a Jehu speed characteristic of
the manner of driving here; and significant, it would seem, by its
accelerated rapidity, of the degree of rank of those it hurries along,
from the Emperor down.
The route we took, is one of the finest the city and its environs
afford, leading three or four miles southward, immediately along the
bay, by a continuous street bearing different names in different
sections, to Botafogo, the most beautiful of the suburbs. The green and
palm-tufted hills overhanging the way inland; the luxuriant little
valleys receding, here and there, from it, and terminating in wild and
inaccessible ravines; the flower gardens and shrubberies, encircling the
better residences, with beauty in endless forms, and the perfume of
everlasting spring; the gay coloring, novel, and in some instances
fantastic architecture of the houses; the vases and statuary and
statuettes around and surmounting them; and the stately and ornamental
gateways, opening into fine avenues of old trees terminating in
embowered perspective at inviting residences remote from the road, with
magnificent views at one point and another of the mountains on the one
side and of the bay on the other, made the drive both in going and
returning inspiriting and delightful.
Botafogo itself is a gem of beauty: a seeming lake, three or four miles
in circumference. The one half is as untamed and wild as granite-bound
shores bristling into mountains can make it; the other, a semicircular
beach of white sand overhung with trees, and lined by a succession of
fine residences. From the curving street on which these stand others run
westward, forming a village-like settlement. On one of them we found the
mansion of Mr. H——, a spacious establishment with an air of aristocratic
elegance approaching magnificence. Besides the lofty entrance hall and
stately drawing-room into which we were ushered, there were glimpses
through different vistas of a fine library, a music room, dining hall
and billiard room of proportionate dimensions and appropriate
appointments. Situated immediately beneath the pyramidal shaft of the
Corcovado, with a view of other mountain peaks, the waters of Botafogo
at near access on one side, and those of the ocean not far distant on
the other, and bloom and blossom on every hand—the rustling banana
around and the plumed palm above—the whole presented a tempting picture
of a home in the tropics.
It was late in the afternoon before we again reached the city. On
inquiring the charge for the carriage for the four hours we had it in
use, I was rather surprised, notwithstanding the large number “eight
thousand,” that met the ear in answer, that the whole was only four
Spanish dollars, the thousand being reis, a nominal term in the currency
of the country, one thousand of which constitute a mille-reis, a silver
coin of the size and about the value of an American half dollar.
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