CHAPTER XXIII

“_A City of Paradise_”

Rio has one of the most enviable positions in the world. The only other site occupied by a city of any magnitude that can compare to it is that of Sydney, in New South Wales. But Rio harbour has perhaps superior claims to loveliness than that of Sydney by reason of the endless mountain peaks that encompass its vast waters. The innumerable islands that rise up out of the rippled surface are richly clad with all the varieties of a tropical vegetation. The views are endless, each seeming to challenge comparison with any rival. Language almost fails to describe the beauty of the scenery. The infinite variety of the shapes and contours of its bays and islands as seen from the summit of Corcovada is an ever fruitful source of charm. Ships are but mere dots upon its surface when viewed from the distant heights of the surrounding hills, battleships but tiny specks and smaller craft invisible to the naked eye. The harbour is one of the largest and safest in the world, with an entrance nearly a mile in width. This entrance lies between a rugged mountain chain that encircles all the bay and two forts, the São Joã and the Sante Cruz, guard the passage into these bewitching waters. All around are the eternal hills, grotesque and strangely shaped, and covered with the lively greens of tropical verdure. No artist’s eye is required to appreciate the concentrated splendour under the changing lights and shadows, the marvellous panorama is veritably superb, and the islets in the great bay might well be those imagined by Tennyson, “Summer isles of Eden lying in dark purple spheres of sea.” The landscapes could only possibly be properly delineated by a panorama on a gigantic scale, but even the most perfect would fail to excite the mind in any degree approximating to the actuality. The subtle aspects of exotic

growth and vegetation, the wild, disordered beauty of nature’s arrangements, the rich-growing wilderness of tropical greenery that springs up everywhere is past belief. When examined closer, the vegetation upon the islands and the mountain slopes is bewildering in its profusion. The colour of all nature, under the tropical sun which shines through the misty haze of the moist heated atmosphere, is full of mystery and charm. The forms that the giant trees assume, with innumerable parasites clinging to them, are indescribable. Tall palms, feathery bamboos wafted by the gentlest breezes, give a sense of life even on the calmest days. Rio is a fitting mistress for an exuberant poet, for he could never weary of versing her charms, extolling her exceeding beauty, or revelling in her enchantment. Its shores and its mountain slopes, the fascination of their varied aspects, provoke his enthusiasm at every turn. They possess wonders that can never stale, charms that can never tire. Even if this world-famed harbour is entered when night has hidden the wonders of its mountains from view, the scene is most impressive; the countless lights from the houses that twinkle like ground stars along the shores of Rio and Nictheroy, up the hill-sides and from the hundreds of boats that lie scattered in the bay, form an arrangement of singular loveliness. The lights on the shore follow the lines of the new esplanade, Avenida Beira-mar, from the city right out to Botofogo, and on the other side of the bay, those of Nictheroy twinkle back to them. Small steam launches, distinguishable only by their lights, rush about, and the air is filled with the shrieking of their whistles and sirens. The arrival of a mail steamer at night is the occasion for this nocturnal activity on the part of boatmen ever on the look-out to pick up a good fare, and as the mail steamers lie far out from the landing stage, passengers have no choice but to avail themselves of these harbour pirates, whose craft flock round the gangways as soon as the ship comes to anchor. Fire balloons float in the air, and rockets hiss and leave their trail of sparks behind them, as they rush on their upward flight.

It was on New Year’s Day, 1502, that Goncalo Coelho and his crew sailed into this silent bay. Theirs were not the first eyes to behold its wonders, for they found its shores peopled by a wild, savage race, who lived in their rude villages set amongst the fairest of surroundings. The bay was christened by the Portuguese “Rio de Janeiro,” or “River of January.” This name, which is in no way applicable to the bay, which has no river near it, is a matter for some surprise. The investigations of the Portuguese must have been of a very cursory nature, for they do not seem to have remained long enough to grasp the extent of the harbour they had discovered. They named it, however, and the name has stuck, and even the natives of Rio to-day are called “Fluminenses,” after the river that does not exist. The flat ground which winds round the foot of the hills, and upon which the city now stands, was formerly a mangrove swamp, of which nothing remains to-day. The city now covers an area of eight to nine square miles, and has nearly a million inhabitants. For centuries almost, indeed, until the beginning of the present one, the city, although in such beautiful surroundings, was extremely dirty and badly laid out. The streets were mean and shabby, for even the fashionable and prosperous Rua do Ouvidor is a mere alley. During the early part of the last century the city was proverbial for its filthiness, but it

gradually emerged from its grime and squalor, its streets were paved, and its sanitation improved. But it was not until the beginning of the present century that the Government and people awoke and with a feverish energy set about rebuilding and beautifying their city, until it was transformed out of all recognition. Hundreds of narrow, dirty streets have been pulled down, to make way for the Avenida Central, a long avenue of fine buildings which would grace any of the great cities of the modern world. Many of the worst streets in the city have been swept away, and in their place broad thoroughfares full of fine, if somewhat ornate buildings, have been laid down. To-day there are miles of spacious boulevards and shaded avenues, with well-paved asphalt roads and walks, all lit by electricity. The magnificent Avenida Beira-mar, which runs from the southern end of the Avenida Central to Botofogo, a distance of nearly five miles, has few equals in the world. Along its asphalt track countless motor-cars race at a breakneck speed. Fine residences have been erected along this avenue, the “art nouveau” styles of France and Germany being the most popular. The modern houses in the suburbs of Rio make up in depth what they lack in width, and they have fine suites of rooms tastefully decorated and furnished with the latest fashions. The

extravagantly ornamental frontages evince the Brazilian taste for show and showy things. The town is very straggling and winding, on account of the many hills that break into the plateau on which the city stands. But the vistas and views that the irregularity of the plan introduces are an ample compensation for the detours round the buttresses of the mountain range. At the end of the Avenida stands a very graceful white building, the Monroe Palace, in which the Pan-American Congress was held in 1906, and a little further down the magnificent Municipal Theatre, modelled somewhat on the lines of the Paris Opera House. The best companies from Paris and the Continent find in it a stage and auditorium equal to anything they have been accustomed to. Unfortunately, the municipal authorities have not equipped their expensively built Opera Palace with scenery to match. The stage properties are exceedingly inadequate and inappropriate for such a theatre, and the companies who sometimes perform in it. The stage is enormous, and the actors’ dressing and retiring rooms lofty and well devised. The interior is handsomely decorated although it is hardly equal to the new theatre in São Paulo, which is the finest theatre in South America. At the other side of the Avenida Central stands the new National Library, which contains a quarter of a million volumes, and next to it the Palace of Fine Arts, both imposing buildings. In the latter there is plenty of room for more works of art. There are in the Avenida many handsome buildings and many styles; the newspaper offices are conspicuous, those of _La Paiz_, _The Journal do Commercio_, and the _Journal do Brazil_ stand out prominently from other buildings. The large classic building with gilded capitals at the northern extremity of this avenue, is the Treasury, which was built to hold the gold bullion, held as guarantee against the paper currency of the republic. The “Ouvidor,” which, although renamed, still goes by its original appellation, is a narrow, crowded thoroughfare. Its shops are among the best in the city, however, and the fashionable inhabitants throng its pavements in the afternoons. It holds much the same position in Rio as the “Florida” does in Buenos Ayres, although it is not so extensive as the latter. Perhaps the most striking feature in both of these streets is the enormous prices charged for their wares. The fashions from Paris find a ready sale in Rio, and the more daring they are the greater are their chances of success. Nothing in a French mode would shock a “Fluminense,” but they are very particular in seeing that their wives and daughters are properly escorted when they go abroad. A young lady would never dream of walking or even talking in public to a male friend of the family unless a proper chaperon were present. The old, almost Oriental, customs of Portugal and Spain still persist, even in their emancipated colonies. Until women are treated with more respect and less suspicion they will never have the influence upon the country that they undoubtedly possess in other civilised lands. The social functions in Rio are many and varied. During the winter months of June, July, and August many dances and receptions are given by the different clubs, such as the “Naval,” “Military,” and “Engineers,” as well as by the legations and by private persons. These functions are attended by all the notables, and form the principal entertainments of the city. Every night the social Brazilian butterflies of fashion have somewhere to go, and the gatherings are very largely attended by foreigners and visitors. Birthday parties are really popular, and at these crushes the host is usually overwhelmed with embraces and gifts, the latter compensating in some measure for the trying ordeal of standing for hours receiving speeches and replying to them. The Brazilian inherits from his Latin ancestors the gifts of a fluent speaker, and is very ready to give a free play to this talent, which the slightest occasion will provoke him to display. At the private theatricals, plays and playlets are generally given in French and children are pushed forward to show their skill, which

is warmly appreciated by their elders. Enthusiastic and unstinted praise is lavished upon their efforts. Art, literature, music, and the sciences find many devotees in Brazilian society, and even the driest of lectures is patiently listened to by large audiences of both sexes. Music they love, but poetry is their passion. There are few amongst the educated classes in Rio who do not at some time or other in their lives compose odes, sonnets, or lyrics, and feel prouder of their poetic achievements than of any other. Almost every man of the better classes is a Dr., and foreigners above the rank of labourers and artisans are generally accepted as possessing this distinction at least. It may be that it is only politeness and not ignorance that bestows this title upon strangers, and it should be looked upon as an intended compliment. The Brazilian is warm-hearted, generous, punctilious in the observances of the most formal etiquette, and although he can unbend with the freedom of a schoolboy, care must always be taken not to trespass upon this characteristic, or to wound his inordinate vanity. Many of them who have travelled and had the advantages of superior education through intercourse with the public men and leaders of society of other countries, have a greater dignity and wider sympathies, and are less likely to make the mistakes of their less fortunate fellow-countrymen, who cannot see their limitations or realise their national defects. The rapid realisation of the wealth of the enormous States of Brazil shows to most advantage in Rio, for the moneyed classes, governors, and politicians of all the vast territory forgather in the capital. The Brazilians are impetuous, and very ready to embark upon great undertakings, many of which are only practicable in their fervid imaginations. They have been held back by the long, unprogressive policy of their mother country Portugal and the severe handicap of slavery. Even under the Empire small progress was made, considering the size of their country and the extensiveness of their resources. But since the establishment of the republic, although there have been many ups and downs and serious difficulties to encounter, they have contrived to make great headway. The rejuvenation of Rio in the short space of ten years is sufficient to demonstrate what can be done by a determined people, and it is little wonder that when they regard the revolution they have already wrought, they should let their imaginations run to flights that make an ordinary mind giddy. The governing classes have a population of half-breeds to deal with, and bring into line with modern progress, and with such material it is difficult to rapidly accomplish great things. The importation of European labour may help them to carry many of their cherished schemes into effect, but it will take years ere the immense stretches of unexplored territory are brought to yield to the world one tittle of their indisputable riches. The practical difficulties that the republic has to face are many, and the very vastness of its sparsely populated territory is not the least. The Federal Government and those of the autonomous States do not always see eye to eye, and the needs and interests of the outlying States are so diversified that it requires great governmental wisdom to hold them all together. That the Federal capital should be the seat of political intrigue is only natural, and States that are largely settled with colonists from every part of Europe are faced with the conflicting interests and desires of neighbours with whom they have little in common. Politics enter largely into the life of the Federal capital. Ever since the first Brazilian Parliament

met there in 1826, under the Empire of Pedro I, Liberal ideas emanating from the Parliaments of the world have met with the approval of the best intellects of the capital. Republican tendencies were fostered by men whose eyes were turned upon the trend of politics in Europe and the United States, and the newly forming republics of South America. Revolutions and revolts occurred in the different States with an alarming frequency. Wars with neighbouring republics cost the Federal exchequer many millions, and held back industrial progress. The emancipation of the slaves was no more popular with the planters and agriculturists in Brazil than it was with the same classes in the Southern States of North America, or in the West Indian Islands, and it took time to bring about such a drastic economic change. The Chamber of Deputies was formerly the old palace of the Emperor, and stands near the Caes Pharoux. It is not a pretentious building, nor are the appointments such as might be expected, but a new Parliament House is projected. The entrance or antechamber is at the top of an old mahogany staircase, and the walls are covered with photographs more or less faded of deputies past and present. An old-fashioned carpet covers the floor of this landing, which gives entrance to the chamber and to the “Cabinete do Presidente.” The deputies pass through a small cloak-room to the floor of the House, a square chamber with seats and benches arranged in a semicircle. Upon a raised platform facing the deputies sits the President of the chamber, a brilliant green curtain trimmed with yellow, the national colours, forming a background. Electric fans whir on either side. Dark-coloured porters and messengers walk in and out, and seem at times to outnumber the deputies. Outside in another antechamber, crowds of citizens wait patiently to interview the deputies on different subjects, but generally to obtain some favour. The eloquence of the deputies is their strong point, and the speeches are long, and delivered with great vehemence. Men of all grades of colour sit cheek by jowl, very reminiscent of some country court house in a West Indian Island. The Senate Chamber is situated some distance away on one side of the beautiful “Praca Republica,” the finest garden in this lovely city. The palace of the President, formerly the Palacite do Friburgo, stands in a broad thoroughfare, Rua Cattete, to the north of the city, and although it has a beautiful garden at the side and back of it, it is not very imposing. On the balustrade at the top are four stone eagles with outstretched wings, otherwise the building offers no particular features. Inside the waiting-rooms are crowded on audience days with every class of the inhabitants, who patiently wait their turn and chances to interview the head of the Government. The ancient palace of Itamarity, where the Minister of Foreign Affairs resides when in Rio, is modest and unattractive externally, and does not indicate in any way the magnificence of the interior, admirably fitted for the reception and entertainment of distinguished diplomats and visitors. It contains a ballroom decorated with hangings and upholsteries of emerald-green and gold, a reception-room carried out in yellow, another in rose colour, whilst a corridor running along the outside of the fine library overlooks a garden where palms and exotic flowers abound. The late Baron do Rio Branco had in this palace many and valuable souvenirs of his travels and illustrious acquaintances, amongst them a large seascape painted by the unfortunate King Carlos of Portugal, who presented it to the “Baron.” The Baron de Rio Branco was for many years an idol of the people of Rio, and enjoyed the reputation amongst them of being a great authority upon all matters pertaining to foreign affairs. He was perhaps one of the few men of his time who looked his part to perfection, bearing a slight physical resemblance to the famous Bismarck. He held aloof from the internal politics of his country, and for twelve years held his office in spite of changes of Government and Presidents. His aloofness from the mob of politicians, whose clamourings and wranglings he seemed to despise, placed him in a peculiar position, whilst his efforts to enlarge his country’s dominions and strengthen her army won him the admiration and gratitude of all classes. He tried to establish a “German military mission” to Brazil, and although he was unsuccessful, his advocacy of German instructors for the army may still bear fruit. That the army and navy of Brazil require to be imbued with a stronger sense of military duty than they at present possess is amply exemplified by the many acts of insubordination they have been guilty of in recent years.

The notable improvements in the Federal capital were carried out under President Penna. He was fortunate in having some

of the ablest men in Brazil in his ministry, who, with the assistance of the best engineers and architects in the country, set about the reconstruction of the city. Dr. Lauro Muller (the present Minister for Foreign Affairs) was responsible for the general plan of the improvements, and his scheme was worked out in detail by Dr. Paul de Frontin, one of the most talented and all-round engineers in the republic, and at present the General Manager of the Central Railway, the largest in Brazil. Dr. Frontin has had a career crowded with many successes, and he still finds time to fill the professional chair of mechanics and astronomy in the National Gymnasium. He has been associated with nearly all the big engineering schemes in the republic of recent years, and has built canals, railways, bridges, waterworks, and docks, as well as opening out the avenues of the capital, which necessitated the removal of hills that to many would have been mountains. He has done much to make the new Rio almost worthy of its magnificent setting. In Rio the automobile has almost supplanted the “Tilburies,” those curious, old-fashioned gigs, capable of holding only one passenger, who sits beside the

driver, a few specimens of which may still be seen plying for hire. Electric tramways (called, curiously enough, the “Bond,” by the natives, who associate them with the bonds that were issued for the capital of the first companies) run through the winding city and distant suburbs. These tramways are run by the Rio de Janeiro Light and Power Company, which owns extensive concessions and properties throughout the State, including some twenty-two miles of territory on either bank of the Parahyba River, seventy-five miles distant from the city of Rio, and an installation fifty miles from the capital, where the Lages River passes through a narrow ravine about three hundred feet wide, betwixt solid rock. Here a dam has been constructed, so that the waters above are formed into a lake fifteen miles long by some seven or eight miles wide. From this huge reservoir the water is conducted a distance of one and a half miles through steel tubes to a power-house some thousand feet below in elevation, providing an enormous power for the generation of electricity both for motor and lighting purposes in the city.

The cars run out to the Botanical Gardens, among the most beautiful in the world, and much favoured by climate. As they are approached tall palms are seen that mark their boundary near the border of the great Lake Rodrigo do Frietas, a curious piece of water separated from the Atlantic by a narrow strip of land over which great billows break during a storm. The gardens cover two thousand acres. The avenue of royal palms is half a mile in length, and gives a strongly marked character to these gardens. Fountains and arbours, rustic bridges and ponds, rivulets and waterfalls add to the charm of this sylvan spot. At the foot of the hill grow great clumps of bamboos, whose trembling leaves bend down the pliant stems till they meet and form an arch overhead. The bases of these stems have grown to great proportions, and are so close together that they form an almost solid mass. Narrow shafts of light stream through the roof of leaves, and pattern the path with many curious forms. An infinite variety of ferns abound of lovely shades of green and beautiful design. But for the incessant buzzings of mosquitoes and flies the spot would be perfect. Lizards dart across the ground and birds flit twittering through the trees, and in the sparkling sunlight, brilliantly coloured humming-birds flutter round strange flowers. Butterflies soar high and so rapidly that they can easily be mistaken for birds. Near by a small waterfall that makes rippling music stands a tall palm protected by railings; it is the parent of all the palms in Rio, and sprang from a seed planted in 1808 by João VI, whose bust stands on a pedestal in close proximity.

Another favourite car ride takes one to Tijuca, a suburb situated six miles distant on a beautifully wooded hill, from which extensive views of the city and harbour are obtainable. This suburb contains many summer residences, and abounds with beautiful walks and sylvan paths twining amidst cascades that sparkle in the sunlight.

Other suburbs, Copacabana, Ipanema, and Leme, outside the harbour and on the Atlantic seaboard, are also connected by car routes with the centre of the city, and are popular holiday resorts.