CHAPTER IX.
Rio de Janeiro.
October 20th.—On entering the harbor on the 16th inst. the lofty masts of the Brandywine were soon descried through a mist and vapor which, to a great degree, enshrouded the general scenery. Hauling down our broad pennant of blue, while yet three or four miles distant, that of Commodore Storer was saluted by us, and one of red was run up to the masthead of the Congress. To this only Commodore McKeever is entitled in the presence of a superior in command. The Brandywine at once returned the salute, and, soon afterward, greeted our arrival with “Hail Columbia” from a band, as, passing alongside of her, we dropt anchor under her stern.
The early return of the Congress was quite a surprise, the Brandywine herself having but just arrived. We had made the trip down and back again in the same number of days—eighteen—which had been occupied by her in the one passage. Though a surprise, it was, however, a greater joy to her officers and crew. They are more than three years from home, and have long been waiting a relief. Moreover, Commodore Storer had given the assurance, before we were sighted, that they should be under way, homeward-bound, the next day but one after the Congress should arrive. True to his word, his anchors were up with the early dawn of the 18th inst. The departure, with its associations, was quite an exciting scene. The mist and fog of the two preceding days had disappeared, and the whole panorama of city and bay was in the perfection of its beauty in light, shades, and coloring. As with the first rays of the sun the frigate swung from her moorings, the Congress gave a salute. With the first echoings of this, her rigging was filled by the crew, clustered together like bees in a swarm, sending forth three cheers for the homeward-bound, with a feeling and will that swept every chord of the heart. Then came “Hail Columbia” from our band: the whole quickly followed by the salute, the cheers, and the music of “Home, sweet home,” from the Brandywine. By this time she was completely enveloped in a broad and lofty pyramid of convoluting and pearly smoke, beautifully illumined by the sun. I thought it a good time to bid her adieu, while thus lost to sight in a glory of her own creation, and descending to my state-room, left her to make her way out of the harbor as she best could.
The 19th inst. was a court-day at the palace. Commodore McKeever availed himself of it for a presentation to the Emperor and Empress, as the new commander-in-chief of the United States Naval Force on this station. I made one of his suite; and left the ship at noon for the ceremony, with a party of ten, including Lieutenant McKeever of the U. S. army, a son of the commodore, who, on furlough for six months after service in Florida, came to Brazil in the Congress on a visit to a brother connected with a principal mercantile house in Rio.
The palace fronts immediately upon the chief landing-place, a few hundred yards only from the water. It is an old building, originally the viceregal residence, appropriated to the court of Portugal on its immigration in 1808. It is of stone, stuccoed and painted yellow, in part two and in part three stories in height, and without architectural pretension. The front, occupied on the ground floor by a vestibule leading to the grand staircase, is scarce a hundred feet in width; but the building, enclosing a small quadrangle in the centre, runs back along the public square, about five or six hundred feet to the Rue Direita. Over this a gallery—thrown from the second story—communicates with a still older range of structures on that street, at right angles with the other, extending also some five or six hundred feet to the royal library and imperial chapel, both appendages of the palace. The rooms of state and the throne-room occupy the whole length of the second floor, on the side overlooking the square; and the imperial apartments and private rooms the whole of that on the other side of the quadrangle. The only use made of the palace is for receptions, at levees and drawing-rooms, and the giving occasionally of a state-ball: the family seldom if ever lodge in town. Having, in September, twice witnessed the arrival of the Emperor and Empress in state, from their residence at Boa Vista, I lost nothing of the usual spectacle on court-days, by not being on shore in time for this, on the present occasion. In both instances I happened to be crossing the square, when the approach of the cortège was signalled by a call, from bugle and drum, for the guard and bands in attendance to turn out for the reception. The degree of state and the splendor of equipage vary on different occasions. Sometimes mules only are driven; sometimes horses only—sometimes both attached to different carriages. The general display, at all times of ceremony, is much the same as that described at the prorogation of the legislature, a month ago. As the cavalcade approaches, the halberdiers with their battle-axes at rest, form, in single lines, on either side of the principal entrance, through the vestibule to the foot of the grand staircase. No objection was made to my taking a position, almost in a line with these, and within touching distance of their majesties as they passed. On the drawing up of the carriages at the entrance, the great officers of the household and ministers of the empire descending from the waiting-rooms, form a line on either side, within those of the guard, from the carriage door to the staircase. Immediately on the alighting, a kissing of hands by these is commenced. The Emperor, a step or two in advance of the Empress, presents his right hand for this purpose, first on one side and then on the other, the Empress following in the same manner with a constant short and quick bow of the head, and an expression of great kindness and benignancy. Both occasionally extend a hand beyond the courtiers to individuals among the halberdiers on the qui vive for the honor. As they thus pass, the grandees of the court close in after them, and the ladies and gentlemen in attendance, and in procession, mount the broad staircase.
This guard of halberdiers is not of hireling soldiery, but of volunteers of respectability from the middle ranks of life in the city; and the indulgence accorded by them of so near an approach of spectators as was allowed me, affords an opportunity for many a poor subject to place a petition in the hands of the Emperor or Empress, without the intervention of an official or courtier. I was pleased with the readiness and condescension with which two or three were received by the Emperor, from women of the humblest class in evident distress, and were placed in the crown of his chapeau, while kisses, tears, and thanks were showered on his hand.
On entering the palace we were received by Mr. Tod, the American ambassador, in the diplomatic saloon—the richest of the apartments excepting the throne-room. The imperial party were in the chapel at mass. Mr. Tod proposed to conduct us there, by the corridor over the Rua Direita, and we followed him in that direction, through a long succession of rooms, till met by several of the foreign ministers returning with the report, that the diplomatic tribune in the chapel was undergoing some repairs, and was closed. We therefore retraced our steps to await the close of the religious service. This was not long; and Don Pedro and Donna Theresa, followed by some twenty or thirty attendants, soon made their appearance on their way through the long suite of rooms to the audience chamber. The court dress of the ladies here, as in Russia, is a uniform: a white brocade embroidered in gold, train of green velvet with corresponding embroideries, and head-dress of ostrich plumes and diamonds. This is a sensible regulation promotive of economy, by an avoidance of the rivalry in expense and display, among the ladies, though at a sacrifice of the picturesque, from variety in taste and elegance in such a spectacle. Among the ladies in attendance was one more than eighty years of age, a venerable condessa, who accompanied the royal family from Portugal in 1808, and has been a leader of the fashion in the court circles, through the change of four dynasties, to the present time.
The Emperor led the suite a little in advance of the Empress. He is in stature truly a splendid specimen of humanity. The maturity of his countenance, as well as figure, leads to a supposition of his being full ten years older than he really is. An imperturbable gravity and unbending dignity contribute to this impression.
The diplomatic corps and our party fell into line on one side of the room, and saluted the Emperor and Empress as they passed by a bow, receiving a stately return from each, accompanied by a very decided look of scrutiny at such as were perceived to be strangers. A long range of apartments was to be passed through, before reaching the throne-room, and it was some minutes before a chamberlain announced to Mr. Tod—the senior ambassador in residence, and thus entitled to lead the diplomatic procession—that their majesties were on the throne.
The intervening rooms were thronged with Brazilians, representing in strong force the church, the army, the navy and judiciary, with many in civil life, in distinctive uniforms and varied court dress; but I missed in the throng much of the picturesque variety noticed in 1829. There were now no barefooted friars nor mendicant monks—no Augustines in white, nor Franciscans in gray, with corded belts and dangling cross and rosary. It was manifest that, at court at least, the monkish days are past: the high dignitaries of the church in purple and scarlet, in satins and lace, were the only representatives of the religious orders.
The state apartments in general appeared naked and unattractive compared with the recollections of 1829. The best paintings have been removed; one or two only worthy of attention remain. One, the martyrdom of St. Sebastian, is impressive, and the work of a master in the art. There are also some good battle-pieces illustrative of Portuguese history, in the olden times. The two largest pictures represent respectively the coronation of Don Pedro I., and the marriage of the present Emperor and Empress. They are coarse and inartistic in execution, but valuable from the number of portraits they contain, the principal figures introduced being from sittings to the painter of the personages delineated.
The throne-room is a large and magnificent apartment, the predominating colors in the finish and furniture being green and gold. The lofty, vaulted ceiling, among other embellishments in fresco, presents medallion portraits, real or fictitious, of all the sovereigns of the House of Braganza, from the establishment of the kingdom of Portugal to the present time.
The occasion of the court was the anniversary of the marriage of their majesties, and the address of congratulation, from the diplomatic corps, devolved on Mr. Tod. Entering the room with a bow,—followed by those to be presented by him—he advanced midway from the door to the throne, where making another bow, he took his station, with our party grouped around. He concluded his speech of felicitation by adding, that “Commodore McKeever, on assuming the command in chief of the U. S. Naval Force on this station, availed himself—with the officers of his ship—of the opportunity for a presentation to their majesties.” The Emperor’s reply in Portuguese was brief, and of course courteous. Immediately on its close, a band in the vestibule struck up the national air: and filing off before the throne, we each in succession bowed respectively to the Emperor and Empress, and moving backward in a semicircular sweep from the door by which we had entered, bowed ourselves, through another corresponding to it, from the presence to an ante-room. Being in clerical robes, I might perhaps have claimed the privilege of a straightforward exit. It is said that, owing to the fall backwards, in the royal presence, of a bishop-legate from Rome—a hundred and more years ago—from treading on the tail of his gown, in retreating from the throne at a levee in Lisbon, a permit was issued excusing, thereafter, all clergy in robes from the established etiquette. Not having ascertained however whether the privilege had been transmitted to the court of Brazil, I thought it most safe to conform to the general usage, though at the risk, in accomplishing a distance of forty or more feet in the manner of a crab, of suffering a disaster similar to that of the bishop.
The rest of the foreign ministers and their suite followed us rapidly. After these came the hundreds of Brazilians, according to their rank and precedence, each kneeling on a step of the throne and kissing the extended hand of their sovereigns: a ceremony which, between wedding-days and birth-days, saints’ days and days of independence occurs, on an average, at least once a month during the whole year.
This bow before the throne will doubtless be the nearest approach to personal intercourse with their majesties that I shall enjoy; and I may, at once, in connection with it, give such intelligence, in regard to them, as I have derived from those having the best opportunities for correct information on the subject. Their personal appearance I have before described. The power vested in the Emperor by the constitution is very limited: almost nominal indeed, with less influence through the right of appointments and political patronage in general, than is possessed by the President of the United States. So carefully restricted and so jealously guarded are the prerogatives of the throne, that the abuse of them, by despotic rule or usurpation, would be impracticable. The hereditary descent of the crown is the strongest monarchical feature in the government: and it is to this alone, doubtless, that Brazil is indebted for an exemption from the anarchy and bloodshed which have proved so destructive to the advance of liberty and civilization, in all sections of South America. While it places an effectual check upon the reckless ambition of selfish politicians and patriots, falsely so called, it forms a point of permanency around which the wise and good may rally, in the support and in the defence of true liberty. It is not impossible that the constitutional restrictions resting on the Emperor, and an accompanying feeling of irresponsibility, may cause, in some degree, the seeming nonchalance which marks his air and deportment in public, and also induce to some extent, at least, to the quietude and seclusion of his ordinary life. From all I learn, nothing can be more simple and domestic than the habits of himself and family. The library, and its cabinets, the pleasure-grounds and gardens of San Christovao, chiefly occupy their leisure-time, and are principal sources of their happiness.
Prudent and high-minded as a ruler, cultivated and accomplished as a scholar, benevolent as a man, and pure and irreproachable as a husband and father, the Emperor is justly regarded with honor and affection by his people; while the Empress, no less exemplary in all the relations of life, through her amiability and kindness of heart shares largely with him in general popularity and good will.
The annual stipend of the Emperor is four hundred thousand dollars, and the allowance to the Empress fifty thousand. The civil list is small, the ladies and gentlemen of the household being few in number. They live with prudence and economy; seldom entertain except by an occasional ball at the palace in town. With the lessons on the vicissitudes of empire and the instability of thrones, so frequently given in these modern times, it is wise in them thus to husband their resources, and to familiarize themselves of choice with habits of life which, by possibility, may yet become those of necessity. They have already been afflicted by the loss of two or three children; one, the Prince Imperial and heir to the crown. Though two young princesses are left to them, this may have had a chastening effect on their hopes in life, by placing the succession in a female, and thus rendering the perpetuity of their dynasty less certain, than if there were a male heir to the empire.
It must not be inferred from what I have stated of the outward bearing of the Emperor, or of his habits in private life, that he takes no interest in the policy of the government or active part in its executive administration. While content under the constitutional restrictions of his power, and with the prerogatives accorded to the throne, he holds his position and exercises his influence firmly and with a noble regard to what he believes to be the highest interest of the nation; and gives the strength of a mind, endowed with more than ordinary natural gifts, to the promotion of measures calculated to advance the honor, dignity and prosperity of the empire. This has been strikingly manifested recently, in successful efforts to persuade those around him of paramount influence in the various provinces, of the evil and reproach of a continued connivance—in disregard of national faith given by treaty—at the slave trade, and of the ultimate inevitable disadvantage and disaster to the country of a more extended slave population. So zealously and so wisely has he urged his views of public policy on this point—though in the face of long-established national prejudice as to the necessity of slave labor—that the legislature, sustained in the measure by their constituents, have pronounced the slave trade piracy, and enacted rigorous penal laws against it. This has been accomplished by demonstrating to the agriculturists of the empire, the economy and advantages of free labor, through colonization from Europe, over that of slaves, and by enactments for the encouragement of immigration from abroad. This is a most important and most desirable step forward in national good, and is sufficient alone to mark the reign of the young monarch with true and enduring honor.
October 22d.—Night before last, while walking the poop-deck, just before our usual evening worship, I met, engaged in some momentary duty there, a young man named Ramsey, whose frank and open-hearted face, bright smile, and confiding look and manner towards me had long ago attracted my notice, and led to more familiar intercourse with him than with most others of the crew. Stout in figure, and strong and muscular in limb, he might have been selected as a personification of health and buoyant youth. In various conversations I had learned something of his history: the place of residence, circumstances, and position in life of his parents and family. He had been religiously trained, was a teetotaler in principle and practice from the example of his father, and, so far as I could learn, free from the open vices which too often degrade the sailor.
In addition to the prepossession in his favor, from an attractive exterior, and from the promptness and activity with which he was observed to discharge his duty, he had early won the praise and good will of all on board, both officers and men, by saving, at the risk of his own life, that of a small boy, who fell overboard from the Congress when at anchor in the stream at Norfolk. The boy could not swim, and a strong tide was carrying him rapidly away when Ramsey jumped after him and succeeded in sustaining him half-drowned, till both were rescued by a boat.
A few evenings ago I had observed that one of his eyes was inflamed and swollen from a cold, and, now, in reference to this, asked him if he were well again. “Oh, yes, sir—all right—never better in my life,” was his reply, as with his accustomed bright smile he passed down to the quarter-deck, where his shipmates were assembling for prayers.
My usual time for exercise on shore is in the afternoon, but yesterday, being engaged to the Commodore at a dinner given by him to the British admiral and family, I took the morning for a walk. On coming on board ship at three o’clock, Dr. Williamson, the fleet surgeon, mentioned to me that one of the crew had been taken ill with symptoms of the cholera. It was but a moment after hearing the name—Ramsey—in answer to the question who it was? before I was beside his cot on the berthdeck. He had been relieved from cramp and pain, by the treatment adopted; the pulse which had intermitted was restored, and he supposed to be altogether better. It was not yet twenty hours since I had met him seemingly in the fullest health; but how altered now, and how utterly prostrate! He looked rather than spoke his gladness at seeing me, and listened to my conversation with interest and satisfaction. It was evident that he was still under great physical oppression, and though endeavoring, occasionally, to rally his spirits, was dejected and sad—his eyes filling with tears as he pressed again and again the hand I had given to him at first, and which he continued to retain in his own as I remained by his side for a couple of hours, attempting to soothe him by words of consolation and by whispered prayer.
The sympathies which had been awakened by this unexpected scene forbade any enjoyment of the party in the cabin, and at the earliest moment practicable I excused myself from the table and returned to the poor fellow, not to leave him again till he should be out of danger. He was much in the state in which I had left him: had, if any thing, a stronger pulse and more natural state of the general surface. I again conversed tenderly with him and encouraged him to look in penitence and faith to Him from whom alone help cometh in time of trouble. I never witnessed greater submission and patience, and the tones of his voice and whole manner were as gentle as a lamb. In seeming apology for the irresistible depression he felt, though he considered himself to be relieved and better, he said to me with a look and accent I cannot soon forget—“Oh! Mr. S——, I was never sick before, and it makes me too down-hearted—too down-hearted!” Poor fellow! who under the same circumstances would not have been down-hearted—stricken down, in an hour as it were, from the very fulness of health and strength, and in the bloom and buoyancy of early manhood, to the feebleness of the merest infant, and to the very borders of the grave!
The surgeons had told me that every thing in his case depended upon the fidelity of those in attendance upon him to the directions given; and that there should be no failure here, I at once took the place of nurse in administering the prescriptions, and gave myself entirely to him. As the night wore away I could not discover the change for the better I wished, though I was not conscious of any for the worse. Dr. Howell, the assistant surgeon, who visited him every two hours, encouraged me to continued vigilance and hope. One, among other injunctions from the surgeons, was on no account to give any water to the patient, and only occasionally a mouthful of a tea prepared for the purpose. But he longed for water, and at one time well-nigh overcame my purpose of rigid obedience to the orders given. He had been almost covered with cataplasms, and had on him besides two or three large blisters; and the tenderness of his entreaty in gentle Scotch dialect, after having been once refused—as he looked up with pleading eyes and said, “Oh! Mr. S——, one wee drop, for I am all on fire!” touched my very heart. Poor fellow! from the best of motives and in the hope of soon seeing him better I reasoned with him and persuaded him to submission: but now lament it. The indulgence would have given him temporary comfort and could have done him no harm: for in a short time afterwards a return of cramps threw him into convulsions, and I saw that the stroke of death had been given. Unwilling unavailingly to watch the rapid changes which betokened too surely the flight of the soul, with the hand which so often during the day and the night by its warm pressure had given assurance of the comfort imparted by my presence still clasping mine, I kneeled by his cot, now surrounded by the surgeons and many of his messmates, and in tears and in strong though silent supplication plead with Him who alone is mighty to save, to spare the immortal spirit of the dying man from the sorrows of the second death. I do not recollect ever to have been sensible of a nearer access by faith to the only Hearer of prayer, and never saw more clearly how it is possible for Him, in the sovereignty and boundless riches of his grace, in the eleventh hour even to have “mercy on whom he will have mercy.” At four o’clock this morning, he gently breathed his last without a struggle or a groan.
Such is the first of death’s doings among us, and such was the last on earth of this poor sailor boy. I am devoutly thankful that though he died in a foreign land far from his home, I have it in my power to assure those who most loved him, that while all was done that the highest professional skill could devise to save him, but in vain, he did not die uncomforted, unprayed for or unwept.
His funeral took place this afternoon. Captain McIntosh, with the Christian kindness of heart characteristic of him, led the procession in his gig—the flag of the Congress, as well as those of the boats leaving the ship, being at half mast. The body was buried in the beautiful cemetery of Gamboa,
“where palm and cypress wave
On high, o’er many a stranger’s grave,
To canopy the dead; nor wanting there
Flowers to the turf, nor fragrance to the air.”