RIO DE JANEIRO.
_October 20th._—On entering the harbor on the 16th inst. the lofty masts
of the Brandywine were soon descried through a mist and vapor which, to
a great degree, enshrouded the general scenery. Hauling down our broad
pennant of blue, while yet three or four miles distant, that of
Commodore Storer was saluted by us, and one of red was run up to the
masthead of the Congress. To this only Commodore McKeever is entitled in
the presence of a superior in command. The Brandywine at once returned
the salute, and, soon afterward, greeted our arrival with “Hail
Columbia” from a band, as, passing alongside of her, we dropt anchor
under her stern.
The early return of the Congress was quite a surprise, the Brandywine
herself having but just arrived. We had made the trip down and back
again in the same number of days—eighteen—which had been occupied by her
in the one passage. Though a surprise, it was, however, a greater joy to
her officers and crew. They are more than three years from home, and
have long been waiting a relief. Moreover, Commodore Storer had given
the assurance, before we were sighted, that they should be under way,
homeward-bound, the next day but one after the Congress should arrive.
True to his word, his anchors were up with the early dawn of the 18th
inst. The departure, with its associations, was quite an exciting scene.
The mist and fog of the two preceding days had disappeared, and the
whole panorama of city and bay was in the perfection of its beauty in
light, shades, and coloring. As with the first rays of the sun the
frigate swung from her moorings, the Congress gave a salute. With the
first echoings of this, her rigging was filled by the crew, clustered
together like bees in a swarm, sending forth three cheers for the
homeward-bound, with a feeling and will that swept every chord of the
heart. Then came “Hail Columbia” from our band: the whole quickly
followed by the salute, the cheers, and the music of “Home, sweet home,”
from the Brandywine. By this time she was completely enveloped in a
broad and lofty pyramid of convoluting and pearly smoke, beautifully
illumined by the sun. I thought it a good time to bid her adieu, while
thus lost to sight in a glory of her own creation, and descending to my
state-room, left her to make her way out of the harbor as she best
could.
The 19th inst. was a court-day at the palace. Commodore McKeever availed
himself of it for a presentation to the Emperor and Empress, as the new
commander-in-chief of the United States Naval Force on this station. I
made one of his suite; and left the ship at noon for the ceremony, with
a party of ten, including Lieutenant McKeever of the U. S. army, a son
of the commodore, who, on furlough for six months after service in
Florida, came to Brazil in the Congress on a visit to a brother
connected with a principal mercantile house in Rio.
The palace fronts immediately upon the chief landing-place, a few
hundred yards only from the water. It is an old building, originally the
viceregal residence, appropriated to the court of Portugal on its
immigration in 1808. It is of stone, stuccoed and painted yellow, in
part two and in part three stories in height, and without architectural
pretension. The front, occupied on the ground floor by a vestibule
leading to the grand staircase, is scarce a hundred feet in width; but
the building, enclosing a small quadrangle in the centre, runs back
along the public square, about five or six hundred feet to the Rue
Direita. Over this a gallery—thrown from the second story—communicates
with a still older range of structures on that street, at right angles
with the other, extending also some five or six hundred feet to the
royal library and imperial chapel, both appendages of the palace. The
rooms of state and the throne-room occupy the whole length of the second
floor, on the side overlooking the square; and the imperial apartments
and private rooms the whole of that on the other side of the quadrangle.
The only use made of the palace is for receptions, at levees and
drawing-rooms, and the giving occasionally of a state-ball: the family
seldom if ever lodge in town. Having, in September, twice witnessed the
arrival of the Emperor and Empress in state, from their residence at Boa
Vista, I lost nothing of the usual spectacle on court-days, by not being
on shore in time for this, on the present occasion. In both instances I
happened to be crossing the square, when the approach of the cortège was
signalled by a call, from bugle and drum, for the guard and bands in
attendance to turn out for the reception. The degree of state and the
splendor of equipage vary on different occasions. Sometimes mules only
are driven; sometimes horses only—sometimes both attached to different
carriages. The general display, at all times of ceremony, is much the
same as that described at the prorogation of the legislature, a month
ago. As the cavalcade approaches, the halberdiers with their battle-axes
at rest, form, in single lines, on either side of the principal
entrance, through the vestibule to the foot of the grand staircase. No
objection was made to my taking a position, almost in a line with these,
and within touching distance of their majesties as they passed. On the
drawing up of the carriages at the entrance, the great officers of the
household and ministers of the empire descending from the waiting-rooms,
form a line on either side, within those of the guard, from the carriage
door to the staircase. Immediately on the alighting, a kissing of hands
by these is commenced. The Emperor, a step or two in advance of the
Empress, presents his right hand for this purpose, first on one side and
then on the other, the Empress following in the same manner with a
constant short and quick bow of the head, and an expression of great
kindness and benignancy. Both occasionally extend a hand beyond the
courtiers to individuals among the halberdiers on the _qui vive_ for the
honor. As they thus pass, the grandees of the court close in after them,
and the ladies and gentlemen in attendance, and in procession, mount the
broad staircase.
This guard of halberdiers is not of hireling soldiery, but of volunteers
of respectability from the middle ranks of life in the city; and the
indulgence accorded by them of so near an approach of spectators as was
allowed me, affords an opportunity for many a poor subject to place a
petition in the hands of the Emperor or Empress, without the
intervention of an official or courtier. I was pleased with the
readiness and condescension with which two or three were received by the
Emperor, from women of the humblest class in evident distress, and were
placed in the crown of his chapeau, while kisses, tears, and thanks were
showered on his hand.
On entering the palace we were received by Mr. Tod, the American
ambassador, in the diplomatic saloon—the richest of the apartments
excepting the throne-room. The imperial party were in the chapel at
mass. Mr. Tod proposed to conduct us there, by the corridor over the Rua
Direita, and we followed him in that direction, through a long
succession of rooms, till met by several of the foreign ministers
returning with the report, that the diplomatic tribune in the chapel was
undergoing some repairs, and was closed. We therefore retraced our steps
to await the close of the religious service. This was not long; and Don
Pedro and Donna Theresa, followed by some twenty or thirty attendants,
soon made their appearance on their way through the long suite of rooms
to the audience chamber. The court dress of the ladies here, as in
Russia, is a uniform: a white brocade embroidered in gold, train of
green velvet with corresponding embroideries, and head-dress of ostrich
plumes and diamonds. This is a sensible regulation promotive of economy,
by an avoidance of the rivalry in expense and display, among the ladies,
though at a sacrifice of the picturesque, from variety in taste and
elegance in such a spectacle. Among the ladies in attendance was one
more than eighty years of age, a venerable condessa, who accompanied the
royal family from Portugal in 1808, and has been a leader of the fashion
in the court circles, through the change of four dynasties, to the
present time.
The Emperor led the suite a little in advance of the Empress. He is in
stature truly a splendid specimen of humanity. The maturity of his
countenance, as well as figure, leads to a supposition of his being full
ten years older than he really is. An imperturbable gravity and
unbending dignity contribute to this impression.
The diplomatic corps and our party fell into line on one side of the
room, and saluted the Emperor and Empress as they passed by a bow,
receiving a stately return from each, accompanied by a very decided look
of scrutiny at such as were perceived to be strangers. A long range of
apartments was to be passed through, before reaching the throne-room,
and it was some minutes before a chamberlain announced to Mr. Tod—the
senior ambassador in residence, and thus entitled to lead the diplomatic
procession—that their majesties were on the throne.
The intervening rooms were thronged with Brazilians, representing in
strong force the church, the army, the navy and judiciary, with many in
civil life, in distinctive uniforms and varied court dress; but I missed
in the throng much of the picturesque variety noticed in 1829. There
were now no barefooted friars nor mendicant monks—no Augustines in
white, nor Franciscans in gray, with corded belts and dangling cross and
rosary. It was manifest that, at court at least, the monkish days are
past: the high dignitaries of the church in purple and scarlet, in
satins and lace, were the only representatives of the religious orders.
The state apartments in general appeared naked and unattractive compared
with the recollections of 1829. The best paintings have been removed;
one or two only worthy of attention remain. One, the martyrdom of St.
Sebastian, is impressive, and the work of a master in the art. There are
also some good battle-pieces illustrative of Portuguese history, in the
olden times. The two largest pictures represent respectively the
coronation of Don Pedro I., and the marriage of the present Emperor and
Empress. They are coarse and inartistic in execution, but valuable from
the number of portraits they contain, the principal figures introduced
being from sittings to the painter of the personages delineated.
The throne-room is a large and magnificent apartment, the predominating
colors in the finish and furniture being green and gold. The lofty,
vaulted ceiling, among other embellishments in fresco, presents
medallion portraits, real or fictitious, of all the sovereigns of the
House of Braganza, from the establishment of the kingdom of Portugal to
the present time.
The occasion of the court was the anniversary of the marriage of their
majesties, and the address of congratulation, from the diplomatic corps,
devolved on Mr. Tod. Entering the room with a bow,—followed by those to
be presented by him—he advanced midway from the door to the throne,
where making another bow, he took his station, with our party grouped
around. He concluded his speech of felicitation by adding, that
“Commodore McKeever, on assuming the command in chief of the U. S. Naval
Force on this station, availed himself—with the officers of his ship—of
the opportunity for a presentation to their majesties.” The Emperor’s
reply in Portuguese was brief, and of course courteous. Immediately on
its close, a band in the vestibule struck up the national air: and
filing off before the throne, we each in succession bowed respectively
to the Emperor and Empress, and moving backward in a semicircular sweep
from the door by which we had entered, bowed ourselves, through another
corresponding to it, from the presence to an ante-room. Being in
clerical robes, I might perhaps have claimed the privilege of a
straightforward exit. It is said that, owing to the fall backwards, in
the royal presence, of a bishop-legate from Rome—a hundred and more
years ago—from treading on the tail of his gown, in retreating from the
throne at a levee in Lisbon, a permit was issued excusing, thereafter,
all clergy in robes from the established etiquette. Not having
ascertained however whether the privilege had been transmitted to the
court of Brazil, I thought it most safe to conform to the general usage,
though at the risk, in accomplishing a distance of forty or more feet in
the manner of a crab, of suffering a disaster similar to that of the
bishop.
The rest of the foreign ministers and their suite followed us rapidly.
After these came the hundreds of Brazilians, according to their rank and
precedence, each kneeling on a step of the throne and kissing the
extended hand of their sovereigns: a ceremony which, between
wedding-days and birth-days, saints’ days and days of independence
occurs, on an average, at least once a month during the whole year.
This bow before the throne will doubtless be the nearest approach to
personal intercourse with their majesties that I shall enjoy; and I may,
at once, in connection with it, give such intelligence, in regard to
them, as I have derived from those having the best opportunities for
correct information on the subject. Their personal appearance I have
before described. The power vested in the Emperor by the constitution is
very limited: almost nominal indeed, with less influence through the
right of appointments and political patronage in general, than is
possessed by the President of the United States. So carefully restricted
and so jealously guarded are the prerogatives of the throne, that the
abuse of them, by despotic rule or usurpation, would be impracticable.
The hereditary descent of the crown is the strongest monarchical feature
in the government: and it is to this alone, doubtless, that Brazil is
indebted for an exemption from the anarchy and bloodshed which have
proved so destructive to the advance of liberty and civilization, in all
sections of South America. While it places an effectual check upon the
reckless ambition of selfish politicians and patriots, falsely so
called, it forms a point of permanency around which the wise and good
may rally, in the support and in the defence of true liberty. It is not
impossible that the constitutional restrictions resting on the Emperor,
and an accompanying feeling of irresponsibility, may cause, in some
degree, the seeming nonchalance which marks his air and deportment in
public, and also induce to some extent, at least, to the quietude and
seclusion of his ordinary life. From all I learn, nothing can be more
simple and domestic than the habits of himself and family. The library,
and its cabinets, the pleasure-grounds and gardens of San Christovao,
chiefly occupy their leisure-time, and are principal sources of their
happiness.
Prudent and high-minded as a ruler, cultivated and accomplished as a
scholar, benevolent as a man, and pure and irreproachable as a husband
and father, the Emperor is justly regarded with honor and affection by
his people; while the Empress, no less exemplary in all the relations of
life, through her amiability and kindness of heart shares largely with
him in general popularity and good will.
The annual stipend of the Emperor is four hundred thousand dollars, and
the allowance to the Empress fifty thousand. The civil list is small,
the ladies and gentlemen of the household being few in number. They live
with prudence and economy; seldom entertain except by an occasional ball
at the palace in town. With the lessons on the vicissitudes of empire
and the instability of thrones, so frequently given in these modern
times, it is wise in them thus to husband their resources, and to
familiarize themselves of choice with habits of life which, by
possibility, may yet become those of necessity. They have already been
afflicted by the loss of two or three children; one, the Prince Imperial
and heir to the crown. Though two young princesses are left to them,
this may have had a chastening effect on their hopes in life, by placing
the succession in a female, and thus rendering the perpetuity of their
dynasty less certain, than if there were a male heir to the empire.
It must not be inferred from what I have stated of the outward bearing
of the Emperor, or of his habits in private life, that he takes no
interest in the policy of the government or active part in its executive
administration. While content under the constitutional restrictions of
his power, and with the prerogatives accorded to the throne, he holds
his position and exercises his influence firmly and with a noble regard
to what he believes to be the highest interest of the nation; and gives
the strength of a mind, endowed with more than ordinary natural gifts,
to the promotion of measures calculated to advance the honor, dignity
and prosperity of the empire. This has been strikingly manifested
recently, in successful efforts to persuade those around him of
paramount influence in the various provinces, of the evil and reproach
of a continued connivance—in disregard of national faith given by
treaty—at the slave trade, and of the ultimate inevitable disadvantage
and disaster to the country of a more extended slave population. So
zealously and so wisely has he urged his views of public policy on this
point—though in the face of long-established national prejudice as to
the necessity of slave labor—that the legislature, sustained in the
measure by their constituents, have pronounced the slave trade piracy,
and enacted rigorous penal laws against it. This has been accomplished
by demonstrating to the agriculturists of the empire, the economy and
advantages of free labor, through colonization from Europe, over that of
slaves, and by enactments for the encouragement of immigration from
abroad. This is a most important and most desirable step forward in
national good, and is sufficient alone to mark the reign of the young
monarch with true and enduring honor.
_October 22d._—Night before last, while walking the poop-deck, just
before our usual evening worship, I met, engaged in some momentary duty
there, a young man named Ramsey, whose frank and open-hearted face,
bright smile, and confiding look and manner towards me had long ago
attracted my notice, and led to more familiar intercourse with him than
with most others of the crew. Stout in figure, and strong and muscular
in limb, he might have been selected as a personification of health and
buoyant youth. In various conversations I had learned something of his
history: the place of residence, circumstances, and position in life of
his parents and family. He had been religiously trained, was a
teetotaler in principle and practice from the example of his father,
and, so far as I could learn, free from the open vices which too often
degrade the sailor.
In addition to the prepossession in his favor, from an attractive
exterior, and from the promptness and activity with which he was
observed to discharge his duty, he had early won the praise and good
will of all on board, both officers and men, by saving, at the risk of
his own life, that of a small boy, who fell overboard from the Congress
when at anchor in the stream at Norfolk. The boy could not swim, and a
strong tide was carrying him rapidly away when Ramsey jumped after him
and succeeded in sustaining him half-drowned, till both were rescued by
a boat.
A few evenings ago I had observed that one of his eyes was inflamed and
swollen from a cold, and, now, in reference to this, asked him if he
were well again. “Oh, yes, sir—all right—never better in my life,” was
his reply, as with his accustomed bright smile he passed down to the
quarter-deck, where his shipmates were assembling for prayers.
My usual time for exercise on shore is in the afternoon, but yesterday,
being engaged to the Commodore at a dinner given by him to the British
admiral and family, I took the morning for a walk. On coming on board
ship at three o’clock, Dr. Williamson, the fleet surgeon, mentioned to
me that one of the crew had been taken ill with symptoms of the cholera.
It was but a moment after hearing the name—Ramsey—in answer to the
question who it was? before I was beside his cot on the berthdeck. He
had been relieved from cramp and pain, by the treatment adopted; the
pulse which had intermitted was restored, and he supposed to be
altogether better. It was not yet twenty hours since I had met him
seemingly in the fullest health; but how altered now, and how utterly
prostrate! He looked rather than spoke his gladness at seeing me, and
listened to my conversation with interest and satisfaction. It was
evident that he was still under great physical oppression, and though
endeavoring, occasionally, to rally his spirits, was dejected and
sad—his eyes filling with tears as he pressed again and again the hand I
had given to him at first, and which he continued to retain in his own
as I remained by his side for a couple of hours, attempting to soothe
him by words of consolation and by whispered prayer.
The sympathies which had been awakened by this unexpected scene forbade
any enjoyment of the party in the cabin, and at the earliest moment
practicable I excused myself from the table and returned to the poor
fellow, not to leave him again till he should be out of danger. He was
much in the state in which I had left him: had, if any thing, a stronger
pulse and more natural state of the general surface. I again conversed
tenderly with him and encouraged him to look in penitence and faith to
Him from whom alone help cometh in time of trouble. I never witnessed
greater submission and patience, and the tones of his voice and whole
manner were as gentle as a lamb. In seeming apology for the irresistible
depression he felt, though he considered himself to be relieved and
better, he said to me with a look and accent I cannot soon forget—“Oh!
Mr. S——, I was never sick before, and it makes me too down-hearted—too
down-hearted!” Poor fellow! who under the same circumstances would not
have been down-hearted—stricken down, in an hour as it were, from the
very fulness of health and strength, and in the bloom and buoyancy of
early manhood, to the feebleness of the merest infant, and to the very
borders of the grave!
The surgeons had told me that every thing in his case depended upon the
fidelity of those in attendance upon him to the directions given; and
that there should be no failure here, I at once took the place of nurse
in administering the prescriptions, and gave myself entirely to him. As
the night wore away I could not discover the change for the better I
wished, though I was not conscious of any for the worse. Dr. Howell, the
assistant surgeon, who visited him every two hours, encouraged me to
continued vigilance and hope. One, among other injunctions from the
surgeons, was on no account to give any water to the patient, and only
occasionally a mouthful of a tea prepared for the purpose. But he longed
for water, and at one time well-nigh overcame my purpose of rigid
obedience to the orders given. He had been almost covered with
cataplasms, and had on him besides two or three large blisters; and the
tenderness of his entreaty in gentle Scotch dialect, after having been
once refused—as he looked up with pleading eyes and said, “Oh! Mr. S——,
one wee drop, for I am all on fire!” touched my very heart. Poor fellow!
from the best of motives and in the hope of soon seeing him better I
reasoned with him and persuaded him to submission: but now lament it.
The indulgence would have given him temporary comfort and could have
done him no harm: for in a short time afterwards a return of cramps
threw him into convulsions, and I saw that the stroke of death had been
given. Unwilling unavailingly to watch the rapid changes which betokened
too surely the flight of the soul, with the hand which so often during
the day and the night by its warm pressure had given assurance of the
comfort imparted by my presence still clasping mine, I kneeled by his
cot, now surrounded by the surgeons and many of his messmates, and in
tears and in strong though silent supplication plead with Him who alone
is mighty to save, to spare the immortal spirit of the dying man from
the sorrows of the second death. I do not recollect ever to have been
sensible of a nearer access by faith to the only Hearer of prayer, and
never saw more clearly how it is possible for Him, in the sovereignty
and boundless riches of his grace, in the eleventh hour even to have
“mercy on whom he will have mercy.” At four o’clock this morning, he
gently breathed his last without a struggle or a groan.
Such is the first of death’s doings among us, and such was the last on
earth of this poor sailor boy. I am devoutly thankful that though he
died in a foreign land far from his home, I have it in my power to
assure those who most loved him, that while all was done that the
highest professional skill could devise to save him, but in vain, he did
not die uncomforted, unprayed for or unwept.
His funeral took place this afternoon. Captain McIntosh, with the
Christian kindness of heart characteristic of him, led the procession in
his gig—the flag of the Congress, as well as those of the boats leaving
the ship, being at half mast. The body was buried in the beautiful
cemetery of Gamboa,
“where palm and cypress wave
On high, o’er many a stranger’s grave,
To canopy the dead; nor wanting there
Flowers to the turf, nor fragrance to the air.”
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