CONSTANTIA.
_November 22d._—A few days at “Boa Esperenza” in the mountains of
Tejuca, ten miles from Rio, proved so interesting to my friend Dr.
C—— and myself, that we determined to make a more distant excursion
of the kind to this place, in the midst of the Organ Mountains,
fifty miles from the city. The route to it passes near San Aliexo,
and on our way we made an agreeable visit of three days to our
friends there.
Constantia is the estate of Mr. Heath, an Englishman, which has
become a favorite resort of the citizens of the metropolis in the
summer season as a watering-place, for the enjoyment of pure and
invigorating air, and the luxury of fresh and wholesome diet in the
country. By previous arrangement, mules and a guide were sent for us
two days ago to San Aliexo by the proprietor; and taking leave of
Mr. and Mrs. M——, we were off for our destination after an early
breakfast this morning. The day was splendid in its coloring, and
full of freshness. Our guide, a bright, intelligent little negro of
twelve, was all activity and good-nature; and mounted on a mule
scarcely larger than himself, with a carpet-bag slung on each side
of him in the manner of a pair of saddle-bags, went on his way
whistling and singing as if he knew neither sorrow nor care. Instead
of leading us, however, he rode behind in the fashion of a groom;
but not so much for appearance, as we soon discovered, as to give a
poke with the pointed end of his whip to one or the other of the
animals ridden by me and my friend, when they became disposed to lag
in their gait, or to start them forward by a sharp cut across their
rumps with its lash.
The first stage of eight miles northward was to Freischal, an inland
venda, or store, where the turnpike begins the ascent of the
“Sierra.” For that distance, the plain is very similar in its
general features to the country between Piedade and San Aliexo,
before described. The mountain scenery to the west, close upon the
left, was, however, very fine; and was marked now, after heavy
rains, by numerous watercourses and cascades, which foamed down from
the heights above, in single shoots of hundreds of feet. Most
travellers from Rio make Freischal a stopping-place for the first
night; but the “Barriera,” or toll gate, midway up the ascent, four
miles further, is a much more picturesque and attractive spot; and
we pushed on to this for luncheon, without alighting at the other.
The road after passing Freischal winds at first in gradual ascent
along the broad bases of the mountains. It is wide, smooth, and well
graded; and paved at intervals for long distances with large cubes
of granite, like a Roman highway. It was enlivened by troupe after
troupe of mules passing in both directions, with heavy loads of
produce from the interior, and of merchandise from the capital: each
company of seven animals being under charge of a troupiero, or
muleteer, though frequently moving by hundreds together, and
sometimes crowding the road thickly for a half mile in succession.
As thus seen _en masse_ in the distance, either in meeting or
overtaking them, they present an odd spectacle. The mules with heads
bending to the ground beneath their burdens, are themselves for the
most part completely hidden by the bulky loads they carry. The tips
of their long ears, bobbing up and down with the motion of their
step; the cross ends of the clumsy wooden saddle or frame, to which
the panniers or other burdens on either side are affixed—something
like the buck of a woodsawyer—sticking out above their shoulders;
and the dried ox-hides surmounting the whole, to protect the
articles transported from the weather, flapping like wings up and
down in the irregular tread of the beasts, are alone seen: and to
one unacquainted with the sight, would present objects in natural
history difficult to be guessed at. There is a leading mule to each
troupe, whose bridle and head-stall are gayly ornamented with tufts
of scarlet and blue worsted, and often with showy plumes of the same
material, and also strung with bells of varied sizes and tones—the
whole a matter of rivalry in the taste and vanity of the respective
troupieros. The leaders are so well trained as to allow no one of
their own troupe, under any circumstances, to pass ahead of them on
the road; so that the muleteers have to look out only for such as
lag behind or stray by the wayside. These men themselves are black,
and white, and of every shade of complexion; are of all ages, and in
an endless variety of costume, as to the material and condition of
old shirts and old jackets, old trowsers and old drawers, old hats
and various head-gear—from the well clothed, to those almost in a
state _puris naturalibus_.
The Barriera is as wild and romantic a spot as can be well imagined.
I recollect nothing on a public road surpassing it, in these
respects, unless it be the site of Alhama, in the sierra of the
Alpuxares. It is a narrow ravine high upon the mountain’s side,
above which the fantastic pinnacles called the “Pipes of the Organ,”
bristle thousands of feet. From these a mountain torrent, foaming
and roaring over and around gigantic boulders of granite, comes
rushing down, and divided into two streams by an islet over which
the road crosses, plunges headlong into a gulf below. In the midst
of this islet, to which a bridge from either side is thrown, a neat
little chapel, surmounted by a cross, rises upon the sight with
pleasing effect, in contrast with the savage wildness of every thing
around. At a neat venda just beyond, to which we had been directed
by Mr. M——, we were served with a luncheon of boiled eggs and bread
and butter. Our host was a civil young Portuguese, and the neatly
whitewashed walls of the room in which we ate, were ornamented with
a set of colored engravings, illustrative of the fate of Inez de
Castro in the hands of Peter the Cruel. For the first time in my
rambles in Brazil, I here saw a book in the hands of any one—it was
a copy of the “Complete Letter Writer” in Portuguese, which the
keeper of the shop was reading behind the counter when we went in.
We were now more than a thousand feet above the level of the plain.
For some time before reaching this point, a beautifully shaped and
luxuriantly-clothed mountain in front of us, had particularly
attracted our attention. It here stood directly beside us on the
right. Nothing of the kind can surpass the beauty of its foliage in
varied forms and tints of green—interspersed with masses of white
and of yellow, of purple and of scarlet. The white in many instances
is not a blossom, but the leaves of the sloth tree—_cecropia
peltata_. The under sides of these are covered with a white down;
the leaves curl upward under the hot rays of the sun, and give to
the whole tree-top, amid masses of verdure, a whiteness almost as
pure, and more silvery, than that of the snowball. The yellow
blossoms are chiefly of the acacia; the purple and the scarlet those
of climbers—bignonias and fuchsias. An American forest in October
can scarcely compare in gorgeousness with these gay woods, in the
seasons of their bloom.
From the Barriera the ascent becomes increasingly steep, and the
road is formed by zigzag cuts in the sides of the mountains, and, at
places, around their projecting shoulders. The angles at the turns
are very sharp, and the road rises in terrace above terrace—at some
points edging upon precipitous ravines and deep chasms, hundreds of
feet in perpendicular descent. In these sections, the long lines of
mules, as seen both above and below, struggling up or moving
cautiously down, are particularly striking. In several places the
way was wet and miry, and many a poor beast was down in the mud with
his burden upon him, but lying quietly and patiently, as if
accustomed to such accidents, waiting for the coming up of his
troupiero to relieve him of his load, and thus enable him to rise.
As we mounted higher and higher, the landscape became more and more
extensive. By degrees the northern end of the Bay of Rio opened to
view, followed rapidly by the islands which cluster in it; the
mountain-ranges of its eastern coast; the Sugar Loaf, Raza and Round
Islands in the offing; the Corcovado, Gavia and peak of
Tejuca—embracing a panorama more than a hundred miles in circuit, in
the midst of which the imperial city, though forty miles distant,
was distinctly seen gleaming in the afternoon’s sun. Such was the
scene on one side of us, while on the other the pikes of the Sierra
close at hand, rose in savage nakedness three thousand feet above
our heads. The world boasts many pictures in nature, in which
loveliness and sublimity are combined, but I doubt whether this “Boa
Vista”—“Fine View,” of the Organ Mountain does not rival any single
combination of mountain, valley, and water, that man ever beheld. I
can remember nothing in my own experience equal in interest to this
day’s ride; unless it may be the travel through the mountains of
Granada, followed by the first view of the “Vega,” with the city,
the walls and towers of the Alhambra, and the snow-covered heights
of the Nevada above, all gloriously lighted by the glowing hues of
the setting sun.
Though uncertain of the length of time it would require to reach our
destination before nightfall, we lingered long in silent admiration
of the picture; and at last, found it difficult to make up our minds
to turn the point of a projecting rock marking the highest elevation
of the road, and which shuts it from view. From this point the
descent on the north commences. It is gradual, and unmarked by any
striking features, except the jagged peaks on the left. Thick mist
and clouds soon enveloped these, and for a time the way became
comparatively tame and uninteresting.
H—— Hall, the mountain home of Mr. H——, an English merchant of Rio,
whom we had been invited to visit, is situated a short distance from
the sierra. We called upon the family for a short time; but, anxious
to reach Constantia, resisted their persuasions to remain over
night, or at least to dinner, and hastened on our way. At the end of
six miles, we turned from the public road into a bridle-path leading
through thick woods, filled with the music of birds. Many of the
trees overhanging us were magnificent in size—monarchs of the
primeval forest, stately and venerable with the growth of centuries.
One, whose branches entirely overarched the road, at an elevation of
more than a hundred feet, particularly excited our admiration.
Though its limbs were gnarled and distorted, and in themselves
leafless, they were so fantastic in shape as well as gigantic in
dimensions, and so adorned and draped with parasites and creepers,
and festoons of gray moss, as to be a fit study for an artist.
At the end of three additional miles, we came suddenly upon a fine
field of luxuriant Indian corn enclosed by a hedge. Into this a
rustic gate led, which our guide threw open without dismounting, and
uttered the announcement, apparently with as much pleasure as it
gave us to hear it, “Esta Constantia!” “This is Constantia!” We were
at the entrance of a little valley, two miles in length by a half
mile in width, encircled by high hills, in the midst of which the
buildings of the establishment of Mr. Heath are clustered. These
consist of a principal house of two stories, plastered and
whitewashed, and having a steep shingled roof; four cottages of one
story in the same style, in front of this; and various out-buildings
and offices in the rear, with quarters for the negroes—the whole
having the general appearance of a Swiss or German hamlet. The
approach is by a well-made drive, half a mile in length. Trees of
natural growth have been left here and there near this and in the
adjoining grounds; giving to the whole somewhat the aspect of a
park.
Our host met us at the gate of an inner enclosure which protects the
gardens and shrubbery. He is six feet and more in height, of a
portliness in full proportion, and frank, open-hearted and cordial
in manner. He had been expecting us for two days, and dinner was now
a third time waiting our arrival. We had heard of his facetiousness,
and that his anecdotes were irresistible; and had determined before
meeting him, to maintain a becoming dignity. Before the dinner was
half through, however, we found all our precaution vain; and under
the rehearsal of some of his personal adventures in Brazil, were
obliged to give way to fits of laughter, which made the tears run
down our cheeks.
_November 24th._—The estate of Constantia is two miles square. Its
first owner was a Swiss, who gave it the name it bears, with the
intention of cultivating the grape on its hill-sides, in the hope of
producing a wine that should rival that of Constantia, at the Cape
of Good Hope. But his expectations in regard to the production of
wine were disappointed; and an experiment with coffee succeeded no
better. The soil is too cold and too poor to produce the best
qualities of either; and Mr. Heath purchased the whole property for
a small sum. The house and adjoining cottages are situated in the
midst of flower-gardens, which indicate by their growth any thing
but poverty of soil; and are fragrant with the perfume of the
tuberose and heliotrope, cape jessamine and white lily, and
beautiful in moss-roses and camellias, the most splendid carnations,
beds of violets and mignonette, and an endless variety of choice
flowers. The stems of the tuberose exhibit eighteen inches of
closely-clustered blossoms, and while the white lily at home seldom
produces, I believe, more than six or seven flowers on one stock, I
have here counted thirteen. The vegetable gardens and fruit-yards
present a like display of exuberant growth, in peas, beans,
potatoes, artichokes, cabbages, beets, cauliflowers, strawberries,
raspberries, limes, lemons, peaches, pears, apples, quinces and
grapes. These in constant succession bring a rich return to the
proprietor from the market at Rio, to which, distant as it is,
troupes of mules carry cargoes as far as Piedade, twice every week.
The work of the estate is performed by slaves, of whom, including
women and children, there are thirty-three on the premises. They are
well-fed, well-clothed, and well-treated, and seem to be contented
and happy. Their master is a humane and kind man, and intends to
give to all their freedom: in earnest of which he has already
manumitted several, who still continue with him, and to whom he pays
regular wages. The children come round him at his call with laughter
and gambols, and scramble playfully for the biscuit and cakes and
the other niceties which he carries with him from the dining-hall,
for the purpose of distributing among them. The gardens are under
the care of females exclusively: the superintendent, of the same
sex, being thoroughly skilled in the business. Every thing in that
department is under her sole direction, from the turning over of the
earth for planting, to the gathering of the produce, and the
arrangement of it in panniers for the market.
All hands are turned out for work at daybreak; are mustered by name,
and receive orders from their master at a window of his room. A
custom is observed here, and I am told in all well-regulated
families in Brazil, which, were it any thing more than an unmeaning
form, would be interesting. It is the asking of a blessing from the
master every morning and every evening at the close of the day’s
work by all the slaves, of both sexes and of every age. The full
form of words is the following: “I beseech your blessing, or grant
me a blessing, in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!” To
which the master replies, “Jesus Christ bless you for ever!” But it
is the usage to epitomize these expressions by the interchange of
the shortest possible abbreviations of them, and in words rather
startling at first to the ear uninformed of the designed object; the
slaves as they present themselves merely exclaiming, in all manner
of intonations of voice and in every mood of humor—“Jesus Christ!”
While the master, be he talking or laughing, eating or drinking, or
in whatever way employed, without any interruption and seemingly
without any regard to the import of the salutation as abruptly
replies, “Siempre!” “Forever!” The effect last night was quite
ludicrous, as fifteen or twenty men and women came in from labor in
the fields—probably weary and hungry and impatient of any delay—and
thrust their heads rapidly, one after another, into the windows and
doors of the verandah as we were at the tea-table, with the above
exclamation of two words only; followed instantly by the single one
from the master, much in the manner of a _feu de joie_.
No bell, nor similar means of summoning the outdoor servants is
used; but the clear, trumpet-like voice of the master is often heard
far and wide, sending forth with a distinctness not to be mistaken,
the names of those needed. While listening to these stentorian
calls, I have been struck with the euphony and romance of many of
the names, especially those of the females—Theresa and Rosa, Justina
and Juliana, Januaria and Theodora: a list fit for the court
calendar.
Within a few hundred yards of the houses on either side, sharp hills
rise to the height of several hundred feet, partially covered on
their sides and crowned on their tops with intermingled woods and
cliffs. That on the south is marked in its whole length by the broad
channel of a watercourse; this, at times, becomes a foaming cascade,
compared with which, the artificial shoot down the hill at
Chatsworth, would appear but the plaything of a child. At present
the quantity of water, though flowing with great swiftness, is
small, but furnishes an abundant supply for plunging-baths at the
foot of the hill, and for keeping a corn-mill near by, in operation
day and night. This mill is a curiosity in one respect—it is
self-tending; so far, at least, as to cease working when the hopper
becomes empty. The contrivance is very simple, and consists of a
fixture at the bottom of the hopper, which, acting through a spring,
shuts off the water from the wheel when the weight of the grain is
removed.
The day after our arrival was one of rain, and we were kept for the
most part indoors. This, however, we scarcely regretted. Indeed, we
were more than content with confinement in the midst of such verdure
and bloom; and were satisfied for the time, in the freshness,
quietude, and rural repose of this secluded spot, with the
companionship, through the windows and from the verandah, of the
mules and cattle, the sheep and pigs, geese, ducks and chickens,
turkeys and guinea-fowl, with which the pasture-grounds and
enclosures are filled; and not less with that of our intelligent
host in his hours of leisure, in listening to his anecdotes and
reminiscences of life in Brazil. He has pre-eminently the talent of
making one forget that he is a stranger in his house and a boarder
at his table. You feel yourself rather to be the welcome guest of
friendship under the hospitable roof of the lord of the manor, on
whom you are conferring a personal favor by your visit. His sporting
stories are very amusing and somewhat marvellous. There is no end to
the rehearsal of the adventures of twenty years, in hunts after the
leopard and ounce, the tapir and deer, the peccary and other game of
the forests. He has, too, often been the guide and companion in this
region, of the most distinguished travellers who have visited Brazil
in that period. He ascended the loftiest peaks of the Organ
Mountains with Dr. Gardiner; and gives details of privations and
hair-breadth escapes in wildernesses before untracked by man, and
upon cliffs and precipices previously unscaled, not found in the
published records of the accomplished naturalist.
Yesterday and to-day the weather has been clear and fine, and
delightfully bracing and elastic: the mercury varying from 65° to
70° Fahrenheit. The elevation of Constantia above the bay of Rio, is
about 3000 feet. The highest point of the intervening range of
mountains is 6000. The site of the houses does not command a view of
the Organ chain: but, from the hill-side on the north, it is
distinctly seen. We walked a short distance up this last evening,
just before nightfall, and found the entire range magnificently
clothed in the gorgeous colorings of the setting sun. Though at the
distance of fifteen miles in an air-line, the sight was sublime. The
serrated part presents aspects on this side altogether new; and more
wild and fantastic, if possible, than those on the other. I secured
the outline of a sketch, which, when seen by you, may lead you to
suppose me sporting with your credulity.
We have rambled with delight at different times through the little
valley in the rear of the establishment. It is two miles in length;
is prettily watered by a winding stream and diversified by glade and
dell—pastoral in its herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, and vocal
with the murmuring of water and the music of birds. I do not include
in the melody of these, however, the noisy chatter of flocks of
parroquets; though the beauty of their gay plumage, added to the
attractiveness of our walks, as, fluttering through the air, it
flashed upon the eye in the bright rays of the sun, like masses of
emeralds and gold. We made the attempt to ascend some of the hills
for more commanding points of view; but found, even those which were
without wood, and which appeared at a distance to be almost as
smooth as the turf of a lawn, to be altogether impracticable, from
the thickness and rankness of the growth of ferns with which they
are covered. On a near approach, these were seen to rise far above
our heads in impenetrable thickets. We undertook to advance a short
distance among them; but, though Dr. C—— is of no contemptible
height—six feet four inches—and not without proportionate strength
of muscle, we were very willing, at the end of a few minutes, to
give over the effort. Progress can be made through them only with a
sharp bramble-scythe, or a sickle in hand. They are so thick-set,
and so even in height, that the negroes, Mr. Heath tells us, in
returning from labor on the hills, often make short work of the
descent by projecting themselves headforemost for long distances, in
steep places, over the compact surface of their tops.
PETROPOLIS.
_November 30th._—We bade adieu to Constantia on the morning of the
26th inst. It was not yet sunrise when we took leave of our host for
the ride of forty miles through the mountains to this place. We set
off in the following order; first, a sumpter-mule, with our luggage
and provender for the day, led by a negro on foot; then a courier,
the counterpart in age, size, and blackness, of our guide from San
Aliexo, but a perfect dandy in comparison, in his costume—being
dressed in a trimly-fitted jacket and trowsers of new nankeen, a
highly polished castor hat with velvet band and broad rim, beneath
which was worn, in Brazilian style, a scarlet silk handkerchief,
floating loosely down the shoulders behind; leggings of untanned
leather, so wide at the top as to serve for the reception and safe
carriage of all kinds of small packages and parcels, but terminating
in bare feet well-spurred; the Padre, as I am styled, and his mule
came next; while the fleet-surgeon, last in position, but first in
height and dignity, brought up the rear. I was quite impressed with
the appearance of respectability in our departure, by the long line
thus formed, till, at the outer gate, it was suddenly shorn of its
“proportions” by the loss of our footman, who, tying the halter of
the beast he was leading, firmly into the long hair of the tail of
our little courier’s mule, gave us his benediction and returned to
the house.
The morning was beautiful, the air fresh as the breath of June, and
the light, fleecy clouds floating in the sky, tinted with bright
hues. Our way for some miles was a grass-edged and dewy path through
the woods. From these, unnumbered birds poured forth their matin
songs as if
“every sense and every pulse were joy.”
There is an untiring charm in the woodland scenery here; the growth
is often so majestic and widespreading, and the foliage so varied in
form and coloring. We were gratified by the near view, in two or
three instances, of a fine, lofty, forest-tree, which had at other
times attracted our attention at a distance, by the flowers of
mingled pink and lilac with which it was thickly studded. These grow
singly, and not in clusters; but the general effect, from the
intermingling of strongly contrasted shades of one color in the same
flowers, is that of the apple blossom. The lowest branches, however,
were too lofty to allow a satisfactory examination of them. Among
the most graceful of the growth, which in some places fringed and
overarched our way, was the bamboo, shooting up in thick clusters to
the height of fifty, and even a hundred feet. The tree-ferns, too,
were conspicuous, their umbrella-like tops giving them in the
distance the appearance of palm trees in miniature. Parasites and
creepers entangled the whole woods, while the former, mounting to
the tops of the loftiest branches, descended low again towards the
ground in gracefully sweeping pendants. Surrounded by such imagery
and breathing such air, with the golden sun flickering through the
tree-tops upon our path, or gleaming brightly over a glade on its
side, I felt as buoyant in spirit as when a boy I roved over the
pine-covered hills of Otsego.
At one place the road merely skirted the woods and commanded a broad
expanse of cleared land in a valley. A striking feature here, was
the number of stately old trees which still studded the landscape.
They were leafless and lifeless, however, and so blanched from top
to bottom as to seem whitewashed. Masses of gray moss hanging in
long pendants from the skeleton limbs, gave to them, in contrast
with the vigor of life by which they were surrounded, a melancholy
and funereal aspect. Just as we were emerging from a thick wood on a
side hill which overlooked the trees below, my friend said to me,
“All that is needed to make our ride perfect in its kind, is a sight
of some of the wild animals of the country.” I replied, “Yes, any
thing but a tiger or a leopard.” I had scarcely finished the
sentence, when a succession of fierce and angry shrieks and screams
burst forth beneath us; and looking in the direction, we saw a whole
tree-top filled with black, long-tailed monkeys—they were in
terrible commotion—a regular family quarrel. Every branch of the
tree swayed to and fro, as they leaped about and swung themselves by
their tails from the end of one limb to that of another. The tread
of our mules or the sound of our voices, however, suddenly put an
end to their squabble, and in an instant, the whole troop in
affright disappeared in the thick wood.
At the end of a few miles we came to the turnpike by which we had
mounted the Sierra, and followed it northward a short distance. It
was crowded with troupes of mules, just setting off from the ranchos
at which they had passed the night. The muleteers at one point, were
engaged in replacing the burdens on their animals. Their occupation
is far from being a sinecure. Besides making the journey of hundreds
of leagues on foot, they have daily, and sometimes repeatedly each
day, to load and unload their beasts, and to readjust the many
straps by which the freight they transport is kept well-balanced,
and secure from damage. The ordinary load of a mule is from six to
eight “_arobas_” of thirty-two pounds each, and the usual distance
travelled in a day, from twelve to sixteen miles.
The middle section of the journey was marked by a succession of
pyramidal hills of bare granite, a thousand and more feet in height,
rising from the bosoms of the valleys which encircle their bases
like so many gigantic sugar-loaves. They appeared to be utterly
inaccessible, and presented cliffs on some of their sides hundreds
of feet in almost perpendicular descent. About noon, surrounded by
parroquets in flocks and other birds of gay plumage, we gained the
highest point of land on the route. It commanded sublime views of
the mountains, both before and behind us; and, among other objects,
one of special interest to us personally in the cabin of a free
negro a short distance ahead, to which we had been directed as a
good place to refresh our animals and to take our luncheon. We had
accomplished fifteen miles of the journey. The next fifteen were
less interesting in every respect; the general surface of the
country was bare, and the mountains sterile and naked. The glare of
the sun was oppressive, and by the time we had finished that
additional distance, we began to be fagged and weary. And this, you
will ask, while still surrounded by much that was strikingly novel
and magnificent? I will refer you for our vindication in the case,
to any one who has been ten hours in succession on muleback, riding
up hill and down dale, over a scarcely practicable mountain road. A
mule is a very nice animal for the ride of an hour over smooth
ground, and one that is full-blooded and well-broken, very passable
perhaps for the ride of a day; but to be mounted from sunrise to
sunset on such beasts as we had, and to travel for a whole day over
such a road, are enough to make anyone who has suffered the
experience groan afresh at the remembrance of it. I was not aware
before that there was such entire antagonism in the peculiar, short,
broken, and half-finished motions of the brute; causing one to feel
at the end of a day’s journey very much as it might be supposed he
would, if subjected in rapid succession for the same length of time,
to a constant simultaneous jerk of the shoulders, twist of the hips,
rap on the ankles, and thump in the back; while the head has been
kept incessantly bobbing up and down in involuntary motion, like
that of a Chinese image when once set going. I know nothing like it
in travel for weariness, at least to the unpractised rider.
Late in the afternoon, we came upon the other great highway from the
metropolis to the mines in the far interior, and following it, found
the last ten miles, through the valley and beside the rippling
waters of the Rio Piabanha, to be beautiful, not only in natural
scenery, but from cultivation and long settlement. I must confess,
however, that it required an after ride over it fully to persuade us
of this. At the time, we were too much done over for high admiration
of any thing; and were chiefly occupied in straining our vision for
some indications of being near our place of rest. At length, the
little guide, a short distance in advance of us, reining in his mule
at the top of an ascent in a gorge of the hills, exclaimed to us in
Portuguese—“Come see Petropolis!” We doubted whether it might not be
still miles distant; but pushing on, were well pleased to catch
sight of the town, pictured in beauty before us, not a quarter of a
mile off, at the bottom of the hill. We were glad to see our little
courier ride to the door of the first house at the entrance of the
place, as the hotel which Mr. Heath had recommended to us as the
best: had it been the worst, scarcely any inducement could have led
us a hundred yards further in search of any other. We were barely
able to dismount.
I never saw a place of which the common phrase “nestled among
hills,” is so descriptive as Petropolis—in fact, it is doubly
“nestled.” First, by a half-dozen beautiful hills which rise
abruptly around it to the height of two or three hundred feet, and
then again by mountains which tower to an elevation of as many
thousands. The central part of the town lies in a little triangular
basin, a half-mile in extent each way. From this, glens filled with
cottages and pleasant residences, diverge in various directions.
Each has a mountain-stream running through it, two of the principal
of which, flowing from opposite directions, meet in the centre of
the place. The surrounding country is the private property of the
Emperor, by the purchase of his father Pedro I. It was the design of
this sovereign to colonize it at the time with Germans, but his
abdication prevented the accomplishment of this. His son carried it
out, by offering, ten years ago, such inducements to immigrants in
gratuities of land, that the colony now numbers six thousand
inhabitants, chiefly Germans. The Emperor early built a cottage for
himself in the centre of the village, with the view of making an
occasional visit to the place. The appearance of the yellow fever in
Rio as an epidemic, has since led to the construction of a palace on
the same site, which is to be a regular summer residence of the
Imperial family; and Petropolis, from the sickliness of the city and
the example of the Emperor, has become the favorite resort, as a
watering-place, of the rich and fashionable.
Though it is not yet the “season,” there are many visitors here at
present, among whom we were happy to meet our friend Lieut. F—— of
the Congress, and a party of his English friends, residents of Rio.
The whole place has the air of an enterprising, thrifty, and
prosperous new settlement at home, attributable to the fact that
instead of enervated and indolent Portuguese and Brazilians, the
inhabitants are industrious, managing, and hard-working Germans. The
walks and drives in the vicinity, for miles in every direction, are
varied and beautiful. It is only a mile and a half from the “Alto do
Sierra,” the point at which the great highway from Rio to the mining
districts gains the height of the chain; the view from which is
thought by many to outrival that of “Boa Vista” in the Organ
Mountains: we have enjoyed it under great advantages of light and
shade, and think if there is a difference, it is that the latter has
more wildness and sublimity of foreground, and the former more
softness and beauty in the general panorama. The road by which the
passage of the mountain is here made, is, in its grading and
construction, an exceedingly fine work, equal to most of those found
in the similar passes of Europe. The first railroad projected in
Brazil is now in construction, from the bay of Rio to the foot of
the mountains. Its line, clearly traceable from the “Alto,” is a new
and most hopeful feature in a landscape of this Empire. Among the
most interesting of our fellow-guests at the hotel here, are the
Chief Engineer, an Englishman—Mr. Bragge—and his family, and his
assistant, Col. Golfredo, a Neapolitan exile.
The German population is about equally divided as to religious
creeds; about three thousand being Protestants and three thousand
Romanists. On the Sabbath Dr. C—— and I attended worship in the
Protestant chapel. Places for Protestant worship are prohibited the
external architecture of a church building; and but for the
assemblage of people at the door, we should not have been able to
distinguish the chapel from the row of houses under one roof, among
which it stands. The interior is simple and rude, and sufficient
only to accommodate three or four hundred worshippers. About that
number were present. They are just now without a pastor, and the
schoolmaster of the town officiated. The order of the services,
including the reading of a sermon, was that of the Lutheran Church.
The worshippers seemed serious and devout; and though the whole was
to us in an unknown tongue, we endeavored—not in vain we trust—to
make “melody in our hearts,” with their singing, and with their
prayers to pray “with the spirit and with the understanding.”
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