Chapter VIII: Bahia

Bahia, its old name retained in a new place: the province
and the city; present condition and splendid prospect
of both.—Intra-mural peculiarities and Extra-mural
properties.—Prolific sugar produce.—Historic, artistic,
and archæological attractions of Bahia.—Souvenirs of the
Jesuits.—Relics of St. Ignatius Loyola and St. Francis
Xavier.—A Bahian church built in Europe.—British Bahian
clergyman and local railways.—Health of the city.—A Brazilian
poet warbling native wood-notes very wild.—Necessity for
keeping a nautical eye in fine frenzy rolling towards the
Abrolhos.—Departure from Bahia.—Approach to the Brazilian
capital, and untoward preliminary to the Argentina’s
acquaintance therewith.—Stray notes on Bahia, containing
memoranda on Brazilian matters in general.

NOTE TO THE ILLUSTRATIONS.—Both the illustrations in this
chapter are copied from ‘Sketches in South America,’ by Sir W.
Gore Ouseley, who, in a letter-press ‘Key’ to his beautiful
portfolio of drawings, affords some interesting particulars,
of which the annexed is an abridgment:—The first remarkable
object in approaching the harbour of Bahia is the Fort of St.
Antonio, situated on the point of a rock, forming the extremity
of the Cape called after that saint. It is not large, but it is
a fair specimen of the numerous solidly-constructed stone forts
that have been scattered by the Portuguese (and Spaniards)
throughout their colonial possessions, wherever deemed
necessary for purposes of defence or aggression, and which bear
witness, in their well-built walls, and often handsome details,
to the ample means, military skill, and power, that backed the
zeal of the first settlers in South America, and founded the
Brazilian empire. Fort St. Antonio has on its highest part a
light-house, of great service to mariners in making the port
at night, as there are shoals off the point. Opposite to Cape
St. Antonio is a long low island, called Itaparicá, between
which and the port is the channel for large vessels. The
scenery near Bahia does not present the striking features that
distinguish Rio de Janeiro; it has neither the well-wooded
hills nor the lofty precipitous rocks that environ the capital
of Brazil. It is, however, very pretty, varied by small hills
and acclivities, and ornamented by the tall, graceful cocoa-nut
and the usual luxuriant vegetation of Brazil. The Cape, like
the coast generally of the province of Bahia, is surrounded
by coral rocks; and a reef of coral extends to a considerable
distance from and along the shore. The beach is sandy, with
large stones strewed on it by the action of the waves. After
passing the Cape and Fort St. Antonio, which are on the right
on entering the harbour of Bahia, the next prominent objects
are the church and villas on the high land, called Victoria,
overlooking the harbour. It is a favourite and picturesque
suburb of Bahia, and is the chosen site of several ‘chacras’
or quasi country residences. The elevation is sufficient to
avoid the extreme heat of the lower town and to get the benefit
of the sea-breeze. It is considered a healthy situation, and
a tolerable carriage-road leads to the English cemetery,
marked by a cross in the foreground, and to the point of St.
Antonio, as well as along the coast. On the beach are several
‘Armaçaos,’ or places where whale-boats are kept, and whales
cut up. They are provided with capstans and tackle, for hauling
up the carcase and blubber to be reduced to food by the poor,
the flesh looking like coarse beef. The whale on this coast
is pursued in large sailing-boats, and harpooned while the
boat is under sail. In the inner harbour are situated most
of the wharves, quays, and warehouses along the beach and
projecting into the water; and here numerous vessels lie in
perfect safety; the foreign men-of-war generally near a round
castellated tower or fort, not far from the entrance. Bahia is
divided into two towns, the upper and the lower, the former of
which being more modern, is built with greater regularity than
the latter; and contains many handsome buildings, including a
rich cathedral, the palaces of the archbishop and governor, a
court of appeal, theatre, hospitals, a library of from 60,000
to 70,000 volumes, and many other edifices, chiefly of an
ecclesiastical character. The lower town, San Salvador, or
Bahia, is dirty and badly laid out, but in it are to be found
the exchange, arsenal, and imperial dockyard. About three miles
north-east are yards for the construction of merchant shipping.
The houses are mostly of stone, and often lofty. The Dutch
have left traces of former possession in the brick paving of
some of the streets. At the foot of the steep height, covered
with foliage, and crowned by the ‘Paseo Publico,’ or public
promenade, is a small landing-place for boats, conveniently
situated for those who prefer a steep but clambering ascent
to the upper town, to being first taken round the point
into the interior basin and landed in the lower town, to be
thence carried up by negroes in a sort of palanquin. Those in
use here consist merely of a chair on a platform of boards,
suspended from the centre of an arched pole or beam, the
projecting swan-necked ends of which are born on the shoulders
of two men, who relieve themselves by the occasional use of
a stick as a lever applied under the pole as it rests under
the opposite shoulder. The motion is neither pleasant nor the
position seemingly secure. Yet not only ladies, but men, and
of no light calibre, invariably use them for transport to
the upper town and in visiting. The chairs are sheltered by
curtains from the sun, and the woodwork as well as curtains
are often gilt and showily and expensively ornamented. The
steepness of the streets prevents the use of wheel-carriages,
except in a few directions, and causes the substitution of
these palanquins. Bahia, founded in 1549 by Thomas de Souza,
first captain-general of Brazil, is one of the most important
commercial cities in America; and prior to the transfer of the
vice-royalty in 1763 to Rio, was the capital of Brazil. It
is defended by several forts, some of great strength. It was
stated some years ago to contain above 150,000 inhabitants,
among whom are many very wealthy proprietors and merchants.
This population is divided pretty equally into whites,
mulattoes, and blacks. A few miles from Bahia, on the Atlantic
coast near Rio Vermelho, is a small ruined chapel, dedicated to
St. Gonçalo, said to be the first building devoted to Christian
worship constructed in Brazil, or, as some say, in America.

Bahia, or San Salvador da Bahia, is commonly called by the former name, which is only the abbreviation of the title given by the first settlers to the bay, at the head whereof stands the capital, viz., ‘Bahia de todos os Santos,’ or ‘All Saints’ Bay,’ as already stated; but some geographers of the present day retain the old nomenclature; and in so recent and authoritative a work as the eighth edition of the ‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’ now in course of publication, the reader is referred, for the province and city of Bahia, to the article San Salvador, which may be expected to make its appearance somewhere towards the end of 1856, by which time, it is to be hoped, the subject will have expanded to dimensions corresponding with such procrastination in its treatment by such means.

This province contains within itself the germs of enduring prosperity: a splendid bay many miles in extent, where countless ships can ride close to the shore, with lakes and rivers branching from it, form so many natural harbours, docks, and canals; whilst it abounds with sugar plantations, forests of timber fit for shipbuilding and other purposes, precious stones, and many tropical productions, the latter of which can be all procured in a degree only limited by the amount of labour and the facility of bringing things down to the ports for shipment.

Everything at Bahia bespeaks the former head-quarter of an important government. The removal of the latter to Rio was of course a great disadvantage to this place, which has since had to work its way up as a commercial entrepot, with frequent interruptions from political disturbances, the last in 1837 amounting to a positive civil war, when a most lawless band obtained possession of the city, which they held for several months, and were only driven out, with much slaughter, after having attempted to fire it, in which they partially succeeded. Since that time things have been tolerably quiet, the discovery of large deposits of diamonds in a district called the Chapada having given an impetus to business, and taken away many restless spirits, there being now a population of some 40,000, collected there in pursuit of gems here found in considerable abundance—some of extraordinary value. It is 50 to 60 leagues distant from the town of Cachoeira at the head of a river of that name, which is navigable for steam-boats and a source of considerable traffic, there joining the Paraguassa, into which sundry small tributaries, of more or less importance, flow.

The production of sugar, for the fine quality of which the province is greatly celebrated, as also for that of its tobacco, so highly praised in Portugal and Spain, has latterly revived, amounting for the crop just finished, to 80,000 tons. As already observed in the case of Pernambuco, this increase has not originated from any fiscal changes in England, but simply from the cessation of civil discord, enabling the planters to devote their entire energies to the culture of their estates. It is true that large importations of slaves have aided this movement, and that Bahia has been the great focus of this detestable traffic; but the stimulus cannot be traced in any way to our treatment of the West India Colonies, however disposed interested parties may be to ascribe it to this circumstance. The Brazilians had begun to find out the advantages attendant on peace and tranquillity, and that the greater the quantity of produce they could export the larger would be the means at their disposal for the purchase of the necessaries and luxuries of life, which they now began to look upon as desirable to possess. Improved machinery for the making of sugar was brought into operation, as well as additional capital for the development of that product, and likewise of cotton; in the export of which latter commodity Bahia now nearly equals Pernambuco, exceeding that port and province, and all the rest of Brazil put together, in the quantity of its sugar. The natural consequence of such application of skill and means has been a largely extended production from almost virgin soil.

Whilst the trade of Bahia has thus progressed, signs of local and municipal improvement are also visible. Short as is the time since the accomplished author of the note, page 123, wrote—viz., in 1845—the streets have been generally repaired, and the roads leading to the upper town put in an efficient state, so that carriages can now traverse them safely; new quays, extending along the margin of the bay, are in process of erection; also a new custom-house, together with many other much-needed improvements, chiefly owing to the personal activity of Sen. Gonsalvez Martins, formerly President of Bahia, and late Minister of the Empire, who is a native of the place, to which he has shown himself devotedly attached. Bahia possesses more attractions for the mere traveller, in search of curiosities, than probably any town in Brazil, or even in the whole of South America; formerly the capital of the empire, as we have just said, and still next in extent and importance to the metropolis, and as being also the chief seat of the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, its religious structures are the most numerous, imposing, and unique, of any in all Brazil. The cathedral of San Salvador is a splendid monument of the architectural genius of the Jesuits, and its interior corresponds in magnificence with its external beauty, containing, among other remarkable mementos of those colonizers, a portrait, said to be taken from life, of their famous founder, Ignatius Loyola, and that of St. Francis Xavier. The ancient college of the order, now a military hospital, is also very fine. There are probably not less than 40 churches, one of them being situated in the principal street, the Praya, called the Church of the Conception, chiefly composed of blocks of marble which were forwarded from Europe already numbered, like the plates of an iron house in these days, and on their arrival they had merely to be put together, and the building was constructed at once, according to the precise design of the architect at home. This is the more singular as very excellent stone abounds on the spot, the theatre, for instance, being erected on a rock, and numbers of houses are built therewith from the same material, to the height of five stories, some having balconies and blinds, instead of windows—a most desirable arrangement in such a climate, and one which speaks much for the honesty of the lower classes in a town of great trade like Bahia, the extent of whose business may be surmised when it is stated that upwards of a million pounds’ sterling worth of English goods alone enter it annually. Mr. Borthwick, the engineer, sent from London to determine on the accuracy of Messrs. De Mornay’s survey of the Pernambuco railway, in his report, already referred to in the preceding chapter, speaking of the rival claims of Bahia to a railway of its own, and contrasting the condition of the two extraordinary nourishing provinces, says:—‘In 1851 the imperial revenue, from Bahia was 4,784,600 milreis, and from Pernambuco 4,639,427 milreis, irrespective of movements of funds, &c., which would reverse the comparison in that way.’ I have not the returns for the last two years before me, but believe that the general relative proposition is still about the same.

Here I saw the first practical adoption of the Brazilian railway system, in the working of a tram road, to level a large space of uneven ground called the Campo, on the Victoria Hill, by which means a large amount of work has been done in a very short time. For much of this the natives are considerably indebted to the English clergyman who officiates as chaplain to the British residents, and who, not satisfied with paving the road to heaven leading to the path he points out, and building a handsome new church in this locality, has been public-spirited enough to afford material assistance in the construction of highways, building of bridges, and other engineering works, thus clearly and beneficially proving his aptitude for business of this kind.

Bahia has suffered severely from that dreadful scourge the yellow fever; but we found it had in a great measure passed over; and it is to be hoped that it will gradually die away, though it appears that the chief medical men in the empire have decided that it will remain a permanent, or at least intermittent, visitant, something probably like the cholera amongst us, which has apparently become acclimated in England, continuing a steady course of mortality, without those sudden inroads whose speedy devastation so greatly shocked, because they so much surprised, us.

There is a romantic kind of history attached to the first settlement of this province, embodied in an attempt to copy Camoens in his splendid work, commemorative of the discovery of India by Vasco da Gama. (_Vide_ introductory chapter.) It is called ‘Caramaru,’ and was written by José Basilio da Gama, a Brazilian, born in Minas Geres, about the year 1740, and is descriptive of the adventures of a Portuguese sailor, who was wrecked somewhere near Bahia, and rescued from the fate of his shipmates (who were sacrificed by the cannibals, then in possession of the coast) by an Indian princess, who became enamoured of and married him; he then figured in the wars of the Indians, by whom he was looked upon as a kind of demi-god, and afterwards made a trip to Europe with his wife. Some of the scenes in this poem are well and graphically depicted, giving a good insight into the state of the country at that period, and of the savage life existing; but after reading Camoens, it sinks immeasurably into the shade, and we have difficulty in believing it to be written in the same language.

Our stay at Bahia was limited to the day. We sailed again at night, and were obliged to pass outside the Abrolhos, it being night when we came up with them; otherwise there is a good channel for a steamer between these rocks and the main land, and it is a great saving in distance. The name of these crags is very appropriate (‘Open Your Eyes’) there being much need of it, and no light-house to warn the mariner, should he unfortunately be driven by the current or some other casualty near such perils at night-time. Few accidents, however, happen, because a wide berth is given to the Abrolhos. Off Cape Frio we were met by a stiff south-wester, which came down upon us with a freshness and determination worthy of St. George’s Channel; our little steamer went through it manfully, only sending the spray over us. We did not descry the light on Cape Frio owing to the mist and drizzling showers, but soon came up with that on the Island of Raza, opposite to Rio Harbour, which is a splendid light seen from a long distance, and it renders the entrance to Rio comparatively easy. We steamed on, and passed the fort of Santa Cruz, where vessels are hailed; but in running in to the anchorage ground we unfortunately came in contact with a small vessel, placed in the roads with chains and anchors to afford succour to vessels in distress, odd enough called the ‘Succorro,’ or ‘Succour.’ She had neglected the precaution of having a light up, so stringently enforced by the regulations of the port; and we could not see her till close upon her, doing some damage, but nothing very material, and came to anchor close to her for the night.

The following interesting ‘scraps,’ touching manners, customs, and things at Bahia, have been supplied by my valued relative, Mr. Wetherell, for some time British Vice-Consul there, who employs much of his leisure hours not merely in collecting information of this nature and placing it on record, but also in other useful pursuits connected with botany and natural history, of which he has sent home many interesting results.

STRAY NOTES ON BAHIA.

One of the most singular appearances the upper city has to a
stranger is its apparent desertion. There were, until very
lately, only about a dozen wheeled vehicles in the place,
but the march of intellect has been here, and now there are
omnibuses plying to the Victoria. All burdens are carried on
the head, from an orange, a candle, or a bottle, to a barrel
of fish. The larger kinds, such as pipes of wine, are slung
between poles, whilst logs of wood are carried upon the
shoulders of twenty or thirty, looking, for all the world, like
an immense centipede. During the time of carrying a wild kind
of chorus is kept up; one man makes observations as he goes
along, and the rest come in with a chorus, which seldom varies,
however much the recitative solo part may. Although large
burdens are thus carried, one man will not take nearly so much
as a European, and would rather lose his chance of a journey
than carry more than he thinks proper.

The cupolas of the church towers are very frequently covered
with pieces of earthenware, assorted according to their colour,
and laid on stucco in patterns, which gives them a glistening
appearance, as if they were enamelled. It appears to withstand
the effects of time. Some of them are covered with Dutch tiles,
and others are formed of marble. Part of the front of the
Italian friars’ church, and the bell tower, are covered with
the above curious stucco, but a near approach destroys the
effect.

Little naked blacks are constantly seen in the street, with
no more clothing than a pair of bracelets or ear-rings, and
some are very fine-looking. Their appearance is not improved,
however, by the protuberance of the abdomen caused by eating
farinha, which swells extremely when any liquid is mixed with
it. The shape, nevertheless, is soon regained. One peculiarity
is the infrequency of a child crying: their food is simple,
so that they do not often suffer from indigestion, and they
are less encumbered with clothing than the higher classes,
although, in the country, none are very particular in that
respect. The manner in which the mother carries the child,
slung across the back with her shawl, binds its legs in a
curve, but they soon recover their straightness when able to
walk. When thus tied, the child presents the very picture of
resignation, its little head nodding about, when fast asleep,
or when awake crowing, or beating a tattoo on its mother’s
back, who frequently holds a conversation with it, its replies
being in the only universal language now in use.

The huts of the blacks are very curious; they are built of
stakes of bamboo &c., driven into the ground, and these
intertwined with others; the whole, being filled up with clay,
and thatched with palm-leaves. The interior presents the very
acmé of wretchedness on a rainy day, and but little better in
fine weather. All kinds of rubbish huddled together, a few
daubs of saints hung on the walls, a ricketty table with some
carved saint upon it, a coach dog, (a hideous animal, without
hair, having only a few bristles on the head, back, and tail,
and of a dull leaden colour,) or a long-legged scraggy cat, and
a few fowls, quite as great curiosities in their way, are the
usual characteristics of these primitive habitations.

The blacks of this place swim almost as if they were
amphibious. You see numbers of children constantly dabbling
at the water’s edge for hours together, and soon learning to
strike out boldly. One mode of swimming is very singular; one
arm is always out of the water, advanced in front, alternately
with the other, sweeping or drawing the water towards them, and
raising the body out of the water at each stroke. This method
is considerably quicker than the ordinary style of swimming,
but appears to be more difficult of attainment.

It is agreed by phrenologists that the head of the negro, above
all others, presents the greatest development of Music, and
certainly some of the blacks do play remarkably well. You hear
little boys in the street, whom you might fancy could scarcely
speak, whistle tunes with great correctness; and the negro
dances show how admirably the science of time is appreciated.

O surely melody from heaven was sent
To cheer the soul, when tired of human strife,
To soothe the wayward heart, by sorrow bent,
And soften down the rugged path of life.—KIRKE WHITE.

It is to European ears, however, that taught combination music
has the charm; the monotony of the negro chanting, and its
never-ending repetition, convey no idea of the ‘melody of sweet
sounds,’ and the dances that are exhibited to these tunes are
anything but edifying.

The manner of catching fish here is curious. At low water four
or five large canoes will start; two of them divide the net,
which is of great length, and has the lower edge loaded with
lead, and the upper lightened with cork. On arriving at a given
spot, they separate, and dropping the net with all speed, form
as wide a circle as possible, and thus enclose the fish in a
pen. The canoes are then ranged around the outside of the net,
at some distance from each other, and a hand-net, the length of
the canoe, is held by two blacks. This net is about six feet
in height, and supported by two poles. The other men then beat
the water and the sides of the canoes with paddles, making as
much noise as they can, which frightens the fish, which, trying
to escape, and finding themselves effectually prevented by the
net, leap out of the water, and are caught by the hand-net,
and fall into the boat. In a few minutes a large catch is
made, though numbers of course escape. It is a curious sight
to see them flying, as it were, in all directions, out of the
enclosure.

The roasted grains of milho (Indian corn) form a dish of which
the blacks, are very fond; it is called pipokas, and is thus
prepared:—an earthen pot is partly filled with white sand, and
placed over a small open stove until it becomes thoroughly
heated, when the grains of new milho are stripped off the
bunch, thrown in, and stirred amongst the sand with a long
stick. The grains soon swell, and burst the skin, and the corn
becomes white and light. These grains are eaten with pieces of
cocoa nut. ‘Vai plantas pipokas,’ (go plant roasted milho,) is
a phrase, rather more expressive than polite, used in bidding a
person go and mind his own business.

It is a curious circumstance that the minds of the blacks
should, for so many ages, have remained in a stationary
condition; and although political and local circumstances may
have greatly operated to retard their mental development,
yet it seems much more probable that this state of darkness
proceeds more from physical causes. Their stupidity, or rather
want of intellectuality, is a most unaccountable fact, and one
of those mysterious dispensations of Providence that man tries
in vain to unravel. Individual, but almost solitary, instances
occur of a contrary nature; and although cultivation of the
intellect may thus have developed the black’s faculties, it
only serves to show more clearly the wild and blank from which
he has been separated.

A very singular, in fact almost a barbaric, custom exists here
on gala days, such as the birth-day of the Emperor or Empress.
The President issues invitations to a ‘Cortejo’ at the Palace,
a large building in the upper town. The portion occupied by the
President is older than the rest, which is new, and contains
the Treasury, and other public offices. The attendance on one
of these gala days consists of all the authorities, and many
of the principal inhabitants of the city. The ceremony usually
commences with a ‘Te Deum’ in the cathedral. The foreign
consuls appear in their uniforms, a motley habited, but showy,
group: the officers of the army and navy, with the President,
all in full regimentals; the archbishop in his robes, and the
priests in the habits of their respective orders; the judges
in their robes of office, the corporation in their quaint
dresses, and a crowd of civilians, all habited in black, and
many of them decorated with ribbons and stars. The entry is
up a dilapidated stair-case, on the top landing of which a
military band is stationed playing national airs. Two large
and scantily furnished rooms are entered, and a short time is
spent in conversation, until the preparations for the Cortejo
are complete. Then the President’s aid-de-camp pushes aside
the heavy door curtain, and invites the company to enter. The
assemblage enters a long room, papered with green and gold, and
lighted by a line of windows overlooking the sea, curtained
with green and gold damask, looped with bullion. At the further
end of the room, under a velvet canopy, with a kind of dais
in front, are portraits of the Emperor and the Empress, which
constitute the sole furniture of the room. On one side of the
portraits stand the President and the Archbishop, and on the
other the General-at-arms, Commander of the National Guard, and
other principal authorities. The procession advances down the
centre of the room, in Indian file, the consuls going first,
and according to precedence; and when within a few yards of the
dais, each person makes a profound bow to the portraits, and
then to the authorities. Foreigners generally omit the first
obeisance, as being too _savage_, but those who come after most
ceremoniously perform the rite. After bowing, each person takes
his leave by passing out by a side door, and the Cortejo is
over. When all have bowed their way out, the President invites
the consuls he is friendly with to view the troops defile
before him, as he stands at one of the front windows of the
Palace. The military march past to martial music, and then we
take our leave.

Caugica is a species of food of a peculiarly national
character, and is made in various ways. One is simply taking
the skin off the Indian corn, and boiling it in milk or water;
this is eaten cold. Another method is to grind the corn, mix
the meal with sugar and spices, and boil it with milk, when it
makes a very agreeable food.

The butterflies of this country are most gorgeous; agile and
graceful, they flutter in the sunlight, their magnificent robes
glistening like scales of gold. These sylph-like inhabitants of
the air, issuing from the dark cradle in which they exist as
chrysalises, seem to rejoice in their new life, hovering from
flower to flower, sipping the choicest nectar, and revelling in
perpetual enjoyment, and the continued pursuit of novelty and
pleasure.

The Solidade Convent is the great _locale_ where they make
those beautiful feather flowers without dye, which are so much
esteemed in Europe. On my first visit to this place, all the
romance of nuns and nunneries was revived in my mind. The lady
abbess, or superior, or whatever else she may be, was a stately
woman: but the nun who acted as saleswoman was most beautiful—a
Carlo Dolci countenance, pale, but with glorious eyes; and far
more flowers were bought from her than would have been from
any other. Visitors are ushered into a small room, whither
the flowers are conveyed in large baskets through a double
grating, and the attendants of the different nuns are there to
look after their own. None of our party were very proficient
in Portuguese, and we had great fun in the purchases, though
we probably paid double what we ought to have done. On our
departure, the lovely nun came to the door, and as we passed
out, courteously bade us ‘adios,’ and requested us, if we came
again, to ask for Maria.

A beautiful species of duck is found at Maronia, to the north
of this place, of the manner of catching which a description
has been given me. The lakes which they frequent are very much
choked with vegetable matter, and near their haunts a large
gourd is floated, having two small holes bored through the
side. After a few days, when the ducks have become accustomed
to the presence of the gourd, a man wades into the water with
it on his head, and catching a duck by its legs, breaks its
neck, and fastens it to his girdle. In this manner, several are
quietly killed, and the fowler wades ashore with a well-filled
pouch.

The Botocudo Indians make an incision in the under lip,
which becomes so distended that they insert in the orifice a
round piece of wood, as large as the top of a common-sized
tumbler-glass; the lobe of the ear is also perforated and
elongated, in order to receive a similar ornament. In height
they are about 5 feet 6 inches, and have quite an independent
bearing and _ar de franqueza_.

The Indians, like the Greeks of the Homeric age, deem it the
greatest of evils to be unburied, and therefore they delight in
making flutes and trumpets of their enemies’ bones. I have seen
some of these flutes of the present day: they contain about
four or five holes; and are sometimes ornamented with tufts of
red and yellow feathers attached to the bone by strings.

The market is a most curious place, and I am told by persons
who have travelled in Africa, that it has a thoroughly African
appearance. Amongst heaps of fruit, vegetables, &c., shaded by
mats, some of which are formed into huts, and others merely
propped up by sticks, are seated the black women, in dresses
of many diversified colours, but all of the same fashion.
Some with their infants slung across their backs, and tied
by the pano da Costa; others with heavy baskets of fruit or
vegetables on their head; little children, whose only articles
of clothing are bracelets, ear-rings, and bands of coral beads
round the body, squat on a wooden dish, like an Indian god,
or sprawl amidst fowls, ducks, &c. Here and there you see a
black girl in her holiday attire, her hands covered with rings,
and her neck adorned with chains of solid gold, which she is
constantly displaying by arranging her shawl. In this part of
the market the boxes of papadura, attended by the taberoá, in
his leather jacket and hat; the half-naked qaubadomes busy
with unloading and loading, and the different and absolutely
gorgeous colours of the fruit, vegetables, and dresses, form a
most brilliant picture. The constant chatter of talking, the
screaming of parrots, the laughter of the women, and sometimes
the serious talk, added to which the procession of the Espiritu
Santo, accompanied by its band of music, the ringing of the
church bells, and the constant firing of rockets, constitute a
perfect Babel of sounds. The dark shades are the dusky sons of
Ethiop themselves, the dirty buildings, and the still dirtier
streets; but a busier, gayer, or more amusing scene will seldom
be found.

This is the land of parasite plants; a thousand different kinds
of these vagaries of nature are here. Some, attached to the
branches of trees, derive sustenance therefrom and from the
air; others form a nucleus with their roots for dead leaves,
decayed wood, &c., and flourish; others, again, merely rest
upon the branches, and live on air alone. Every curiosity of
form is to be seen: some of the flowers like flies; others
of indescribable shapes; many with their flowers filled with
water, which thus becomes scented; a dozen different varieties
on one tree; some of most brilliant colours, others shades of
green alone; some long and pendant, one variety of which has
received the name of the ‘rat’s tail;’ some without leaves,
like nothing but a string, wave with every wind until they
reach the ground, where they become fixed and rooted.

The bread-fruit tree is very beautiful; but is not very common
in this place, its use being superseded by farinha. The leaves
are very large, of a bright green colour, and much indented
at the edges. The fruit is green, and the surface has the
appearance of network. There are two varieties: in one kind the
divisions of the fruit’s surface are raised pyramidally, in the
other they are smooth. The latter is the sort used for food,
it having no seeds. Roasted and eaten with butter and salt it
is palatable, but insipid; and here it is usually planted for
ornament, as it grows quickly, and makes a pleasing variety
among other trees. The coffee is another very beautiful plant;
when in blossom, the long, glossy, dark green leaves present a
pleasing contrast to the clusters of white flowers round the
stem, and it exhales a delicious fragrance. When the berries
arrive at maturity, they are of a dusky red colour; each
contains two grains of coffee, surrounded by a soft pulp, which
soon dries after being plucked, and is then removed. The labour
of picking is very slight, and children can with great ease be
thus employed. The cultivation of the coffee-plant is much more
attended to in this province than formerly, and is gradually
taking the place of sugar. Towards the south a good deal is
cultivated for exportation.

The mantis is a very curious insect, which Rondelet, the
naturalist, says is called indifferently devin and prega diou,
or preché dieu, in consequence of having their fore-feet
extended as if preaching or praying. The Latin name of mantis
signifies ‘diviner,’ and supposed to have been so designated
from the motion they make with their fore-feet; and it was
imagined that they could divine or indicate events. The
fore-feet are used by the insect to carry food to its mouth;
it is of a beautiful green colour. In one of the Idylls of
Theocritus the term mantis is used to designate a thin young
girl with slender and elongated arms.—See Griffith’s Edition of
‘Cuvier’s Animal Kingdom.’

The banana is a plant about twelve feet high, having a stem
similar to bulbous plants in general, and the leaves, many of
them two feet wide, and from twelve to fourteen feet long,
springing from the top. The new leaf rises from the centre,
and is rolled up straight; as it increases in length, it
gradually unfolds, and gives way for another. The fruit is
green, and grows round the stem in regular semi-circular
groups. The blossoms are protected by a thick fleshy leaf-like
covering, which rises to allow the sun to have its full
influence in maturing the fruit. When the blossoms drop off,
the half-circles remain, but it is seldom that more than six
or eight rows of bananas are produced, and each smaller than
the preceding. The juices of the plant gradually lose their
nutritious qualities, and there are numerous rows of abortive
flowers, which produce nothing; and the stem is terminated by
a mass of the fleshy leaves enclosing embryo bananas never to
be matured. The plant is generally cut down when the fruit has
attained its full size, to make it shoot for the next season,
and the fruit is hung up to ripen, which it soon does, when it
becomes of a fine yellow colour.

The sunsets here are sometimes very fine, and I have noticed
that when the twilight is hastening on, a brighter glow will
appear, with very vivid and distinct bands of blue and pink,
alternately shaded off into each other, and radiating from the
spot when the sun has gone down. The difference in the apparent
sunset is about half-an-hour between winter and summer. Bright
as the sky is by day, it is brighter far by night, when the
spangled heavens are spread out like a curtain. The air is
so pure that the stars seem to shine with an increasing
brightness. The Southern Cross is a beautiful object, and so
different are the heavens from the northern hemisphere, that
nothing seems to produce the effect of the long distance from
home so much as the difference of the starry constellations.
The Milky Way seems to have received fresh refulgence; and all
is magnificence.

The small black ants found in gardens, generally in great
numbers, are the most annoying of the species; their bite
produces a burning pain, which must be partly the effect
of poison, and continues for some time. The red ants very
soon strip the foliage off trees, which they are constantly
ascending and descending, one party empty, the other loaded; a
third party remains in the tree, cutting away whole leaves, so
that it is no unusual thing to be passing under a tree, and to
see the leaves falling as it were miraculously. A fourth party
is employed cutting them up into proper sizes for carrying
to their nests. Most of these ants, if squeezed between the
fingers, emit a strong smell of lemon. Rose-buds seem to be
their most favourite food, and gardens here suffer extremely
from their ravages.