CHAPTER XII.

RIO DE JANEIRO.

_November 26th._—The heat of the mornings on shore is becoming so

intense as to make walking oppressive. Till the setting in of the

sea-breeze about mid-day, the ship is altogether more desirable than any

other place accessible to us. Moored in the direct line of the winds

from the sea, her decks with awnings spread fore and aft, form a

delightful lounging-place; one never without attractions, in the

constant movements on the bay, and the varying and beautiful effects

produced upon its imagery, by hourly atmospheric changes. This you can

readily understand from daily experience at Riverside. Like the verandah

there, the poop of the Congress here commands a wide-spread panorama of

water, mountain, and valley, ever varying in its aspects of lights and

shade, sunshine and clouds, tints and coloring, and tempting one to give

too much time to mere admiration of the changing picture.

When the atmosphere is peculiarly brilliant, the mountains stand out

with a nearness and strength of light that exposes to clear view the

chisellings of their minutest features. With a good glass, every rock

and tree, and almost every shrub, of the nearer ranges is then brought,

seemingly, within touch; while the sublime chain, forty and fifty miles

distant in the north, exhibits, through the same medium, not only the

fantastic spikes and fingers from which it derives its name, but the

minuter formations of the wooded sides also, furrowed by water-courses,

and streaked here and there with the silver line of a cataract in a deep

glen. Then again, the whole stand, with undistinguishable features, like

massive walls of purple and blue, the upper profile only of their jagged

outlines being marked boldly against the sky.

In the morning, the whole bay is smooth and glassy as a lake, one vast

mirror, along whose edges are repictured in strong and unbroken

reflection, mountain and city, church-tower, fortress, and convent, in

minute fidelity, while all the men-of-war, and the little craft floating

by with useless sails, lie in duplicate around. The sun glares hotly—not

a breath of air is stirring, and every one is oppressed. But watching

seaward, the topsails of the inward-bound in the far offing are seen, by

and by, to be gently filling with a breeze; presently, ‘cats-paw’ after

‘cats-paw’ comes creeping through the channel and up the bay; till soon,

in place of a glaring and oppressive calm, its surface is dancing with

‘white-caps;’ the lateen sail boats, careening to the wind and dashing

the spray from their bows, rush past and around us like “playful things

of life;” the inward-bound with wide-spread wings come hastening to the

anchorage; every one drinks in with delight the welcome draught; and for

the rest of the day, new aspects and new life are imparted to every

thing and every body. At times, this sea-breeze is supplanted by a half

gale from the same direction, causing so much of a swell as to raise

breakers between us and the landing, and partially to interrupt

communication with the shore. This was the case a day or two since, when

the surf rolled along nearly the whole length of the city. The change in

the temperature too, is frequently so great as to lead to the

substitution of cloth clothing for that of light summer wear, and to the

buttoning closely of the coat to avoid a sense of chilliness.

Towards evening the sea-breeze ordinarily dies away; and, by sunset, a

glassy surface again reflects the gorgeous coloring which now mantles

the mountains, and gilds with brightness the prominent architecture of

the city. As the short twilight settles into darkness, regular lines of

brilliant lamps gleam for miles along the shores on either side of the

bay, and up the ridges and over the tops of the hills in the city; the

bright radiance of unnumbered stars falls from above; and the

land-breeze, gently fanning down the mountain sides, brings with it the

freshness and fragrance of their woods and flowers.

Often a thunder-storm of thick blackness, with forked lightning, is seen

raging among the mountain peaks without approaching nearer; and oftener

still, magnificently culminating summer clouds, heaped pile upon pile

above them, exhibit a play of electric light, of a beauty and splendor

sufficient for the pastime of the evening. We had a remarkable display

of this kind a night or two ago; the flashes were more vivid and more

incessant than I recollect ever before to have witnessed. Masses of

black clouds, towering to the zenith on every side, made the night

exceedingly dark. In the momentary intervals between the flashes there

was a darkness that might almost be felt—utterly impenetrable even at

the shortest distance—and making inexpressibly grand and beautiful the

more than mid-day brightness which instantly followed, disclosing to

microscopic view every object far and near.

From the cause named at the beginning of this date—the heat of the

mornings—my visits on shore, for the long walk which you know to be an

essential daily enjoyment to me, are chiefly in the later hours of the

afternoon and evening. As the last regular boat of the ship leaves the

shore punctually at sunset, this necessity of choosing so late a period

of the day would subject me to the inconvenience of coming off in a

shore boat, and the disgust of breathing the atmosphere by which the

vicinity of the common landing is nightly polluted, were it not for the

social arrangements of the Commodore. Intimacy with the Ambassador and

his family, and other American friends in the same neighborhood, leads

him with Mr. G—— to pass most of his evenings at the Praya Flamengo. His

barge awaits him regularly, at nine o’clock, at a sheltered and pleasant

landing near the Gloria Hill. A seat in this is always in reserve for

me; and, whether visiting with him or not, I am sure of a passage in

good season to the ship. I am thus left at liberty to range the hills

and valleys at my pleasure towards the close of day, and to take my fill

of such delights as nature, in her exuberance and ever-varying beauty in

ten thousand forms, here affords. A chief drawback to the pleasure is

the want of a companion in my rambles. Such of my messmates as have a

round of ship’s duty in their order, find sufficient exercise in pacing

the decks in its discharge, and are often too much fatigued to start in

search of the picturesque; others, though at leisure, less inured to

fatigue than I am, think the beauty of the upland haunts I most

frequent, scarcely worth the effort required at all points, in the first

sharp ascent of a half mile, by which only they are attained. Hence my

evening strolls of this kind are solitary: still—

“My steps are not alone

In these bright walks; the sweet southwest, at play,

Flies, rustling, where the tropic leaves are strown

Along the winding way.

And far in heaven the while,

The sun that sends the gale to wander here,

Pours out on the fair earth the quiet smile—

That sweetens all the year.”

The row, at night, of two miles and more to the ship is of itself a

pleasure: sometimes beneath a bright moon, with the palm-topped trees

and convent towers of Santa Theresa on our left, marked in silver

against the sky; sometimes amid a darkness which leaves nothing for our

guide but the signal lanterns for the Commodore, at the peak of the

far-off Congress; and sometimes again, amid a display of phosphorescence

in the water, sufficient to excite both admiration and surprise. The

regular dip of the oars, then, creates splendid coruscations: streams of

apparent fire run from the uplifted blades, while the barge, under the

impulse of fourteen stalwart oarsmen, rushes on through a wide trough

seemingly of molten silver.

But I am forgetting the object for which I opened my journal—to say,

that in despite of the heat, I have spent two mornings, within the past

week, in a stroll along the shaded side of the Rua Ouvidor, in company

with the Commodore, Captain and Mr. G——, on a visit of curiosity to the

various shops with which it is lined. The show windows of these rival

those of Broadway, in the display of rich fancy goods of English,

French, and German manufacture, and of jewelry, articles of vertu,

drawings, engravings, and bijouterie. Among the jewellers’ shops which

we entered was one, having for its sign the imperial arms and crown in

rich gilding—thus indicating the special patronage of their majesties

and the court. The person in attendance received us most politely, and,

though we at once apprised him that our object was not to purchase,

exhibited his choicest caskets, from those valued at a few hundred

dollars to those at as many tens of thousands. Most of the contents were

native diamonds and other precious stones tastefully arranged and

artistically set. The workmen here are celebrated for skill in this

respect, and for the delicacy and finish of their filagree in silver,

and chasings in gold. Rio is also celebrated for the manufacture of

artificial flowers from feathers. Those most valued are of the choicest

and rarest humming birds. The changing tints of some of these are more

rich and varied than those of the opal. Such are much prized and are

expensive. The counterpart of a set recently ordered by the Princess de

Joinville was as costly as so much jewelry. The manufactories are in

large shops open entirely in front to the street, and, the artisans

being chiefly young girls, are favorite resorts and lounging places of

shoppers and idlers.

It must not be inferred that in thus spending a morning in shopping, we

were encroaching on the prerogatives of the ladies of Brazil. The usage

of the country denies them this pastime. Portuguese and Spanish views of

the liberty of outdoor locomotion to be allowed to females—traceable to

the Moorish estimate of their trust worthiness and virtue—prohibit to

them here in a great degree the privileges of the street. In the early

morning they may be seen, dressed in black, and attended by a servant or

child, walking to and from church; and on the Sabbath, likewise, in long

family procession, in performance of a like duty; but, to take a

promenade as such, for pleasure or display, or to pass from shop to shop

looking at fine goods by the hour, without finding the article sought,

or any thing to suit the fancy, would be regarded as an indecorum, and

an unmistakable mark of vulgar boldness. Native prejudice on this point,

has doubtless been modified by the example of numerous foreign residents

and visitors; still, when a lady is met in the streets in promenade, it

may be safely inferred that she is not a Brazilian: if wearing a bonnet,

it may be deemed certain.

Aside from the light thrown upon the general estimate of female virtue,

by this prohibition, from usage, there are habits of indecency among the

people, witnessed even in the most public thoroughfares, sufficient to

justify it, so long as the nuisance is permitted; moreover, a lady in

walking is subjected to an impudent stare and look of libertinism from

shopkeepers, and clerks, and passers-by, which is in itself an insult,

without the addition of the remarks of levity which at times may be

heard. There has been an advance in civilization of late in this

respect; still, effrontery enough is left in connection with it to

offend the delicacy of a woman in walking, and to excite the indignation

of any male friend accompanying her.

The native female of the better classes is, therefore, still to be

regarded as a kind of house prisoner; she may stand against or lean over

the railing of an upper balcony by the hour—as is much the custom—gazing

in listless silence upon whatever is taking place in the street; but a

promenade below, with the chance of a flirtation, is denied her.

How then, you will ask, is the shopping of the ladies for fine dresses

and fine feathers accomplished? I answer, either by husbands and

fathers, who I am told are well versed by experience in the business, or

by a running to and from shop to drawing-room of boys and porters with

pattern-books and pieces. A lady from the country will drive to the

house of some friend, or secure a hired room, and, sending forth a

servant, will put the errand-boys of half the shops in the city, in

motion for the day.

On one of these mornings, we entered a common auction-room for a moment,

and accidentally stumbled on the humiliating and reproachful sight of a

sale of men and women by a fellow man. Not the sale, as till within a

few years past might here have been the case, of newly imported captives

from Africa, but of natives of Rio, thus passing under the hammer from

owner to owner like any article of merchandise. They were eight or ten

in number of both sexes, varying in age from boyhood and girlhood to

years of maturity and middle life. They stood meekly and submissively,

though evidently anxious and sad, under the interrogations and

examinations of the bidders, and a rehearsal and laudation by the

auctioneer of their different available working qualities and

dispositions: their health, strength and power of endurance. All, in

their turn were made to mount an elevated platform, to display their

limbs almost to nakedness, and exhibit their muscular powers by various

gymnastics, like a horse his movements and action, before the bidders at

Tattersall’s.

They were rapidly knocked down at prices varying from two hundred to a

thousand and more milreis: that is, from one to five hundred and more

dollars. As we turned away, the indignation of one of our party found

vent in the exclamation: “Such a spectacle is a disgrace to human

nature. It makes one sick at heart, and ready to fear that in the

retributive justice of the Almighty the time may come, when the blacks

here will put up the whites for sale in the same manner!” And why not?

Why should the blood boil at the mere suggestion of the thought in the

one case, and yet flow coolly and tranquilly on, in view of the other?

Happily Brazil has been aroused, through the influence of her Emperor

and the wisest of her statesmen and legislators, to earnestness in that

suppression of the traffic in slaves to which she has so long stood

pledged by treaty. It is no longer in name only that the trade is a

piracy. The landing of a cargo any where in the Empire subjects it to

forfeiture. A high premium is given to an informer in a case of

smuggling of the kind, and the law cuts off all recovery of payment for

the proceeds of a sale that may have been effected. The consequence is,

that the millionnaires of Rio, whose coffers have been filled to

repletion with the price of blood, finding the government in earnest in

the execution of the laws, are forsaking their gilded palaces here—some

of them among the most luxurious and ornate residences of the city—for

homes where they may pursue their nefarious business with less reproach

to reputation, and less liability to the penalty of the laws. It is said

that there are residents here, entitled by birth and citizenship to

stand beneath the protecting folds of the stripes and stars of our

country, who till now have been active agents in, and have shared

largely in the emoluments of this wicked outrage on the rights of man.

_December 10th._—The 2d inst. was the Emperor’s birth-day, a chief gala

among the anniversaries of Rio. His Majesty then completed his

twenty-fifth year. The day was fine, and the celebration consisted of a

grand military procession of regular troops and national guards through

the palace square; a Te Deum in the imperial chapel, at which the

Emperor and Empress assisted, as the phraseology is; a review of the

troops by their Majesties from a balcony of the palace; a levee for

hand-kissing afterwards, for such as are entitled to the entrée; and at

night a visit of the Court in state, to the opera. The whole accompanied

by the firing, morning, noon and night, afloat and on shore, of

unnumbered cannon.

I was in Captain McIntosh’s party in going on shore. He has a horror of

crowds, which to me afford some of the best opportunities of judging of

the character of a people, and after seeing him comfortably seated in a

balcony commanding the square, Lieut. T—— and I sallied forth “among the

horses,” as he expressed it, to be in closer proximity to the populace.

The Brazilians are manifestly an orderly, civil, good-natured, timid,

and temperate people; contrasting favorably in their manners, language,

indulgences and general deportment, on similar occasions, with the

masses in large cities, in the United States. I saw nothing rude or

coarse in any one, nothing offensive or insulting: no profanity, no

intoxication, no quarrelling, no call for the interference of the

police.

In the course of the morning, among various other experiences, we

elbowed his Majesty and the ministers of the household, the metropolitan

and his chapter of the priesthood, and the great officers of state in

the Imperial chapel; scrutinized the Empress and her ladies in their

tribune; listened to the effective music of the Te Deum, performed by

the chief singers of the opera company; witnessed the return of the

court in procession from the chapel to the throne room; and gained a

point of observation for the review, so near Don Pedro and Doña Theresa

as to have been able readily to have carried on a conversation with

them, had it been according to rule.

The regular army of Brazil consists of some twenty thousand troops. Very

few of these are at present here. The great mass of those under arms on

the present occasion, amounting to some five thousand, was of municipal

guards, corresponding to the volunteer companies of New York. They were

in neat and handsome uniforms, are well appointed, and well drilled; but

are small and light in figure, without an appearance of much physical

force, and most motley in complexion and the mixture of blood. An

abundant supply of fine bands was in attendance. Negroes and mulattoes

predominated in these, testifying to the gift of musical taste in the

race here, as with us in the United States.

There was a partial illumination in the evening, but to no striking

effect, except in the streets leading from the palace to the

opera-house. The progress of the court in state through these was a

showy spectacle. The glaring flambeaux of liveried outriders, preceding

and flanking the open carriages, themselves brilliantly lighted, and the

illuminated houses, exhibited the diamonds of the Empress and her

attendants to great advantage. The left breast of the Emperor’s coat,

too, flashed with the brilliants of the many orders with which it was

decorated. The vivas of the multitudes were tolerably loyal, and the

spirited strains of the national air, caught, as the cortège approached,

from band to band, stationed at various points on the route, quite

spirit-stirring. The music of this air is a composition of Don Pedro I.,

who was a master in the science. It is one of the most animated,

spirit-moving national airs I know—equal almost in this respect to the

Marseillaise. The words of the anthem to which it is set are said to be

also from the pen of his late Majesty; and, in the native language, are

scarce less incitive than the tune, to emotions of patriotism and valor—

Iá podeis, filhos da patria,

Ver contente a mai gentil,

Iá raiou a liberdade,

No horizonte do Brazil.

Brava gente Braziliera

Longe vai temor servil!

Ou ficar a patria livre,

Ou mourer pelo Brazil.

I could not be otherwise than amused by an incident, characteristic of

the too widely spread spirit of my countrymen, which came under my

observation just after reaching the shore. The court were alighting at

the palace, on their arrival in state from San Christovao: the turn-out,

in equipages and their appointments, the same as described at the

prorogation of the legislature in September. The hurried rush across the

square of the mounted guard in advance; the flourish of trumpets and

striking up of the bands; the glitter of postillions and coachmen in

livery, stiff with lacings of silver; the tossings of the plumed heads

of the long lines of richly caparisoned horses; and the ceremonies of

the vestibule, in the salutations and kissing of hands at alighting,

were just occurring, as a rough specimen of our compatriots, in the

character of a Yankee sea-captain happened by. He stood near me for a

moment gazing at the pageant, evidently with less of admiration than of

contempt, and, as he passed on with a significant “Humph!” I heard him

add in half soliloquy—“I tell you what, there is a little too much

nonsense here; it is time this people were annexed!”

To-day the weather has been wet and stormy. Notwithstanding, a Brazilian

naval officer came on board the Congress before breakfast, to say that

the Emperor would be afloat in an excursion on the bay. It is customary

on such occasions for the national vessels in the harbor to fire a royal

salute. That they may be in readiness for this, on the appearance of the

imperial standard, the official notice mentioned is given. The Brazilian

men-of-war man their yards also, and nine cheers are given for their

sovereign as he passes. At 11 o’clock the firing was commenced by the

Brazilian flag-ship; and, on going on deck I found myself surrounded by

a blaze from guns on every quarter. At the same time, a procession of

state barges was seen moving from the naval arsenal near the convent of

San Bento, to a steamer not far from us. The barge of his Majesty, of

white and green, was magnificently gilded, and furnished with a standing

canopy of green and gold over the stern sheets, surmounted by the

imperial crown. A naval officer in epaulettes and chapeau acted as

coxswain, the boat being handsomely pulled by twenty-four fine-looking

oarsmen in a uniform of white. The object of the excursion was a visit

in the steamer to a foundry and steam-engine manufactory at Praya

Grande, on the opposite side of the bay; where, in proof of the rapid

advancement of the empire in scientific works and national power, native

talent and enterprise is successfully competing with foreign skill, in

the construction and equipment of men-of-war and other steamers.

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Brazil and La Plata: The personal record of a cruise · 第 12 / 30 章