CHAPTER XXII.
THE SIGHTS OF RIO.--PUBLIC BUILDINGS, AQUEDUCT, CHURCHES, MIRACLES, AND FUNERALS.--VISIT TO TIJUCA AND PETROPOLIS.--THE SERRA.
The party remained several days in Rio, and had abundant occupation for eyes and ears. One of the days was devoted to a religious festival; there were processions on the streets and services in the churches, and the whole population seemed to give itself to idleness in honor of the saint to whom that date of the almanac belonged. Rio Janeiro is a Catholic city, but less intense in its religious feeling than Bahia. Many adherents of the Catholic Church regard Bahia as an American Rome, from which all religious dogmas and teachings affecting the continent are expected to proceed.
Rio is well provided with churches, and some of them are admirable specimens of ecclesiastical architecture. The youths visited the cathedral and perhaps half a dozen of the principal churches, but did not take the trouble to go through the entire list. The churches of Rio are never closed; at almost any hour service is going on in one of the chapels of the cathedral, and the stranger who desires to see the people at worship has no lack of opportunity.
Votive offerings are as numerous in the churches of Rio as at Para, if we may judge by the accounts of the youths. Frank made a sketch of one collection of these offerings, while Fred recorded the inscriptions relating to them.
The sketch included busts, arms, legs, hands, and faces, moulded in wax or carved in wood, perhaps twenty in all. There was a representation of a large tumor on the neck of one of the faithful, who was cured by the interposition of the saint, and below it was a painting of a ship being driven on the rocks at the base of a steep cliff. The ship and crew seemed doomed to certain destruction, but though the ship was lost all the crew escaped, in consequence of an appeal to the patron saint.
Another painting showed the saint appearing in the form of an angel, to an invalid sitting in an arm-chair; the inscription says he had not been able to walk for years, but by following the direction he received he was a well man on the following day. Another picture represented a similar visit to a man lying on a sick-bed, and the legend below it records a similar miraculous result.
The abundance of these votive offerings shows the trusting faith of the pious Brazilians, and their conscientious belief in saintly power. The religion of the country is Catholic; the emperor is a devout worshipper, and a careful observer of the feasts and fasts ordained by the Church, but he is a firm believer in the fullest toleration of all religions, and sternly represses any demonstrations of bigotry.
There are Protestant churches in most of the cities of Brazil. The United States Board of Foreign Missions has an establishment in the empire, which receives a small allowance from the Brazilian government; the ministers of the German and Swiss colonies of emigrants are paid by the imperial government; and, altogether, the adherents of other religions than that of the state run no risk of persecution "for opinion's sake." The constitution says that religionists other than Catholics shall restrict their worship to buildings "without the exterior form of temples."
For religious purposes the empire is divided into twelve dioceses, comprising one metropolitan province, under the archbishop at Bahia. The diocese of Bahia is presided over by the archbishop, and each of the other eleven is under the control of a bishop. The empire is further divided into twelve hundred and ninety-nine parishes; the vicars are mostly foreigners, and among these foreign vicars the Portuguese predominate.
Some of the votive offerings and relics are very old, bearing dates of two or three centuries ago. In one church our friends were shown an alms-box which was anciently used for collecting donations for "Our Lady of the Good Voyage." It was suspended by a strap from the neck of the collector, who went among the sailors on the arrival of ships from any part of the world, and especially from Portugal, in the days of the viceroyalty. The honesty of the collector was insured by a lock, which is a curious, three-cornered affair closing with a key. Key and lock are now heavily rusted from long disuse. The front of the box has a picture of Our Lady standing on the deck of a ship; the halo around the head of the figure indicates its saintly character.
The fronts of the altars were adorned with candles, many of them set in candlesticks of solid silver, of great original cost. They were the gifts of wealthy worshippers in times gone by. One of the attendants sighingly remarked to Fred that people didn't give such magnificent candlesticks to the church nowadays. Even the candles seemed to be yellow with age, and from the dust collected on them it was evident they were not often renewed.
It was formerly the custom to offer the sails of a ship, or some one of them, as a votive tribute to Our Lady of the Good Voyage, or to some other saint, for protection in time of peril. The following story is given by Mr. Ewbank in "Life in Brazil."
"A lady told me that some years ago she came from Rio Grande in one of her father's vessels. The passage was pleasant till within a day's sail of the Sugar-Loaf. A small cloud then rose rapidly from the horizon, darkness settled over them, the sea began to swell, and other indications of a storm so alarmed the captain that he called the men aft, and asked them to join him in offering the mainsail to St. Francis de Paula, on condition of his carrying them safe in. The lady remembers them standing around the commander, and with loud voices calling on the saint, reminding him of what they had promised, each man confirming the gift so far as his proportion of the cost went.
"On arriving safe in port they paid for a mass, and a few days afterwards went to the saint's quarters in procession, barefoot, bearing the sail through the streets, with the captain at their head. The offering was deposited in front of the church. A fair value was put upon it in presence of the priest; the captain laid down the money, and was handed a receipt stating the amount which the pious commander, Antonia Martinez Bezerra, had paid into the treasury of the saint--the value of his mainsail--in fulfilment of a vow made at the approach of a storm (naming the day), as an acknowledgment of the saint's miraculous interposition in behalf of himself, his ship, and his crew."
The same writer says that auctions of ships' sails which have been vowed to the saints for interposition are not yet obsolete. The captains always buy them in, and frequently the priests have some one to run them up to prevent their going too cheaply.
Our friends visited one of the hospitals, accompanied by a doctor to whom they had been introduced. Dr. Bronson was greatly pleased with the appearance of the place, and commended the excellence of its arrangements, its perfect cleanliness, and the evidence of careful training on the part of the physicians and nurses. Their escort told them that the cases most often under treatment in Rio were diseases of the respiratory organs, caused by the dampness of the climate and the prevailing heat. The mean annual temperature is 82 deg. Fahrenheit, and the annual rainfall averages about forty-six inches. There is hardly a year without yellow fever; it is not usually fatal, but in some seasons there is great mortality from it. People from Europe and the northern cities of the United States suffer greatly from the heat for months after their arrival, and many of them flee to the mountains at the first opportunity.
From the hospital they drove to the Paseo Publico, a pretty garden within the city limits, and much resorted to as a promenade. There are gravelled walks shaded by tall palms and other tropical trees, and on the water front is a marble pavement, which is crowded on pleasant evenings by groups of well-dressed people, listening to the music, and indulging in conversation, which is never boisterous.
Hospitals, asylums, theatres, colleges, academies, schools, and similar institutions appropriate to a great city are not lacking in Rio, and their abundance and good management speak well for the administration of the government. Beyond the Botofago suburb is the Botanic Garden, which no visitor should neglect; it contains an avenue of palms not surpassed in any similar garden in the world, and there are other stately trees which tell of the tropical situation. The place is on the plan of the Experimental Gardens of the English colonies, or the _Jardins d'Essai_ of the French, and forcibly reminded our young friends of what they had seen in Ceylon, Singapore, Algiers, and other places or countries on the other side of the world.
Most of the trees and plants of the continent of South America are cultivated in the Botanic Garden, and there are rare exotics from all parts of the globe. Frank espied a grove of cinnamon and clove trees at the same moment that Fred called his attention to a collection of tea-plants from China and Japan; Dr. Bronson pointed out a bread-fruit tree side by side with cacao and camphor trees, while not far off were maples and pines that seemed like old friends from the home of their boyhood. Many trees from tropical Asia have found a home in Brazil through the instrumentality of the Botanic Garden, which has demonstrated their fitness for the climate of South America.
Water is brought to the city through an aqueduct which was built a hundred years ago, and is in good condition; some of the best modern houses are supplied through pipes from the aqueduct, but the greater part of the inhabitants rely upon the water-carriers, who are similar to their fellow-craftsmen whom we have already seen at Para. In the early morning the streets abound with these men, and with numerous house-servants, bearing buckets or small casks of water on their heads. The fountains are the great meeting-places for gossipers, as similar places have been since the days when the New Testament was written, and sometimes the scenes at the fountains of Rio are animated to a degree bordering on commotion. Of course, the aqueduct is one of the sights of the city, and the drive along the road leading past it was greatly enjoyed by the youths.
The aqueduct is twelve miles long, and at one place it crosses a valley seven hundred and forty feet wide and ninety feet deep, on double arches. It is insufficient for the wants of the city, and a new one is likely to be completed before long.
People die in Rio as well as in other cities, and the cemetery is one of the institutions of the place. The old cemeteries of Rio adjoin the churches; since 1850 no interments have been allowed in them, and new cemeteries have been established in the suburbs. The foreign cemetery is at Gamboa, on the shore of the bay.
"We went to one of the cemeteries," said Frank, "and happened to arrive at the entrance chapel just as a funeral was going on. The coffin was so shallow that the body lying within it was distinctly visible above the sides as it stood on a stand resembling a sarcophagus; the lid is shaped like the roof of a house, and is made of two sloping boards meeting and forming a ridge. The Catholic service for the dead was performed, and then a procession of priests and mourners formed, and the coffin was borne from the chapel to the cemetery.
"This was an enclosure with four thick walls, in which there were niches for the coffins, in the same manner as in a receiving tomb at Greenwood or Mount Auburn. The coffin was placed on a stand near one of the niches, the cover was opened, a handkerchief was spread over the face of the corpse, and one of the priests sprinkled the body with holy water, and threw a scoopful of quicklime upon it.
"The other priests and the friends of the deceased followed his example one by one, the sprinkler and scoop being passed to them by a sacristan. The lime was thus heaped on until there was at least a bushel of it, completely concealing the body; the coffin was slid into its niche; the door was closed and locked, the key was delivered to one of the friends of the deceased, and then the attendants proceeded to close the space in front of the door with brick and plaster. Orations were pronounced by those who chose to speak, and the ceremonies were over.
"We were told that the bodies do not decay, in the ordinary acceptation of the word. The flesh is consumed by the quicklime; at the end of two years the niche is opened, the bones are removed and placed in a funeral vase, and the niche is then ready for another tenant. No names are placed above the niches, but each one is numbered, and a reference to the register of the cemetery will show by whom and for how long a particular place is occupied. Fees are exacted for the funeral services and the rent of the niches; in fact, there is hardly anything in life or death in Brazil in which the Church does not have a place. Christenings, baptisms, marriages, death, and burials are all within its supervision."
Rio de Janeiro has beautiful surroundings, and there is no prettier spot among them than Tijuca, a favorite resort of the residents who seek to escape the heat of the city. Other retreats are Petropolis, Boa Vista, Constantia, Nova Friborga, and Teresopolis, all of them at elevations of from one to three thousand feet above the water front of the city. Boa Vista offers a fine view of Rio as it nestles on the shore of the bay; all these resorts are reached by carriage-roads, and some by railway, and in whatever way the journey is made it is sure to be enjoyed.
It was decided to visit Tijuca first of all, and for this purpose a carriage was engaged for a drive of less than two hours, over a magnificent road. They started late in the afternoon, panting with the heat, but within an hour each of the party had donned his overcoat, and found its warmth acceptable. Frank thought he could perceive a fall of the temperature with every foot of the ascent, and regretted that he had not held a thermometer in his hand during the journey.
Tijuca beautifully is situated among the hills and in the midst of dense forests and groves. There is a waterfall which has a local reputation, something like that of Niagara; it possesses quiet beauty rather than grandeur, and is in a charming retreat where the thickness of the foliage keeps out the rays of the tropical sun. There are several similar cascades in the neighborhood, and the sound of the water pouring among the rocks is very gratifying to the ear of one just escaped from the heat of the city.
Foreign residents of Rio have their summer residences at Tijuca, Boa Vista, and other places within easy reach of the capital, and a liberal expenditure has been made by them in the construction of houses and in laying out gardens and lawns. There are several hotels at Tijuca, and the stranger can be reasonably sure of satisfactory quarters during his stay. Dr. Bronson and his young companions were highly pleased with what they found there, and wrote a line of commendation in the register of the hotel.
Frank had wearied of carrying a monkey as part of his baggage, but was so much attached to his purchase on the Madeira that he was unwilling to part with it except to some one who would treat it well. With some trouble to the youth, and more to Manuel, Gypsy had been tenderly cared for during all their travels, from the day of her purchase until they reached Tijuca, where the tiny animal found a genuine admirer.
The daughter of the landlord was mourning the loss of a pet which she declared was "the very image" of Gypsy. Frank was touched by her grief, and with the permission of the proprietor of the establishment the ownership of Gypsy was transferred to the child.
Frank rejoiced that his pet had found a good home; the girl was delighted with the possession of the duplicate of the animal she mourned; the father was pleased at the daughter's joy; and it is to be presumed that the monkey was contented to give up travelling, and settle down amid the pure air and charming scenery of Tijuca. But our record closes without a distinct avowal from Gypsy of the sentiments that swelled her simian breast.
Frank and Fred were up early in the morning after their arrival at Tijuca, and ready for a horseback excursion to the top of a neighboring mountain. Dr. Bronson concluded to remain at the hotel, and satisfy himself with a promenade among the trees, and so the youths departed without him.
They had an exhilarating ride, and came back about ten o'clock full of enthusiasm concerning it. There is a carriage-road nearly to the top of the mountain, and a bridle-path the rest of the way, so that they had no occasion to leave their saddles. At every step they had beautiful views of mountain and valley, thick forest and open lawn, and there were frequent glimpses of the bay and the distant ocean. From the top of the mountain the view embraces a considerable extent of country, backed by the higher mountains of the Serra, which fills the horizon to the west.
Breakfast was served soon after their return, and they sat down to the meal with good appetites. After breakfast they busied themselves with letters and journals, and with the contemplation of a happy family of monkeys and other Brazilian animals in a large cage in the court-yard of the hotel. One occupant of the cage was an armadillo; as nature had not adapted him for climbing, he wisely remained on the floor and allowed the monkeys a monopoly of acrobatic feats. The upper half of him was protected with scales like plates of mail, and when alarmed he closed himself together till he resembled a cocoa-nut. At such times there was little else than the mail-plates presented to outside view, and he could be tossed around with impunity, at least to the tosser. The monkeys had a way of rolling him from side to side of the cage, and occasionally they carried him to the top and let him fall. This application of the laws of gravitation did not affect his gravity, and when they wearied of the performance he opened out his iron-clad coating and looked as serene as ever.
Frank wished to know the uses of the armadillo; Manuel told him it was an excellent article of food, and was liked by both native and foreign residents of Brazil. The youth was sceptical until he had the opportunity of tasting the new diet, whereupon he declared that he would be a friend of the armadillo as long as he remained in South America.
From Tijuca they went to Petropolis, a summer resort higher in the mountains and more distant from the sea than is the former place. They took the carriage-route by the Union and Industry road, a magnificent highway, which was built by private enterprise, and is a model of engineering skill. It penetrates the coffee district back of Rio, and until the railway was built from the capital to and beyond the mountains of the Serra it had almost a monopoly of transportation. It still has a large business, and the company which controls it runs a line of stages and freight wagons, in addition to collecting tolls on every private wagon and every pack animal that passes over it.
The scenery along the road, where it crosses the Serra, elicited the warmest expressions of admiration from the Doctor and his young companions. Frank said it was a combination of the Corniche road from Nice to Genoa and the mountain journey from Colombo to Kandy, in Ceylon. Fred was reminded of the passage of the Alleghenies in Pennsylvania, and the Simplon in the Alps, though he missed the snow-clad peaks of the latter, and the pines and other northern trees of the former. They unanimously agreed that the engineers who made the road understood their work thoroughly, and had constructed a route which would endure through everything except the demolition of the mountains by an earthquake, or the outbreak of a volcano beneath them.
They were caught in a storm while ascending the Serra; one is generally caught in a storm in some part of the day in the mountains near Rio. The rain falls in such quantities as to drive the wayfarer to the nearest shelter, and if he is not quick to reach it he is drenched to the skin. Rain falls every afternoon at Tijuca, and so certainly may it be expected that the sojourners so time their excursions that they may be indoors when the showers come. The moisture from the ocean is driven against the mountains, where it is condensed into rain, and by this daily rain the streams around Tijuca have an unfailing source of supply. The morning is clear and comfortable; from ten or eleven in the forenoon until three hours after the meridian it is too warm to stir about; and at three o'clock the clouds gather, and the rain falls an hour or so later. At sunset the clouds roll away, and the night sees the canopy of the heavens glistening with stars.
The storm on the Serra had the peculiarity of rolling below their route and leaving them travelling above the clouds. It began at the summit of the mountain and then descended; it wrapped them in its misty folds; lightning played about them; they met wagons and pack-mules looming suddenly out of the fog as though literally dropping from the clouds; then the mist became less and less dense; and at length they emerged from it into the open sky, and looked upon the storm sweeping over the valley below. From the Alto do Serra, the highest point of the road, they had a view of immense extent. The mountains rose above and around them; the valley, visible through occasional breaks in the clouds, was a picture of serene loveliness, disturbed only by the lightnings and the rain that fell copiously. Far off was the Bay of Rio de Janeiro, dotted with its many islands, dominated by the mountains that encircle it, and lighted by the afternoon sun.
Petropolis lies in a beautiful valley among the mountains; it was founded by Dom Pedro I., who built a palace there and established a colony of Swiss and Germans, which were imported from Europe at considerable cost to the government. The plan was continued by his son and successor, and of late years the place has become a fashionable resort of no small importance. It has fifteen thousand inhabitants, and many of the wealthy residents of Rio have their summer homes in Petropolis; the imperial palace is an extensive building with beautiful grounds, and the situation is certainly an attractive one.
The German settlers brought the names of their fatherland when they came here to live, and also retained many of their home customs. Some of them have become wealthy coffee-planters, and a good deal of business passes through their hands. Many of the hotels are kept by Swiss or Germans, and not infrequently the buildings are perfect copies of the chalets we have seen in the Alps, or among the lowlands of Switzerland. Petropolis has several Lutheran and other churches, and the government makes an annual appropriation for schools, in which the children of the colonists are educated. There are several hotels, and the stranger can pleasantly pass a few days in this attractive spot.