CHAPTER XXIII.
San Aliexo.
December 14th.—Where, or what, you will ask, is San Aliexo? It is a spot which reminds me more of my home than any place I have seen for eighteen months past, notwithstanding the existence of features in its scenery in the widest possible contrast with any found there. Even while I write, there is a rumbling and babbling of water near at hand, which tempts me to fancy that I am at the table of the little library so familiar to you, and that it is our own brook I hear, made unusually merry by the meltings of the spring, or the pourings of an autumnal rain. But this is not telling you what, and where, San Aliexo is.
It is a little valley at the foot of the Organ Mountains, thirty miles from Rio de Janiero. Mr. M——, in whose bride, brought to Brazil by him from the United States last summer, I recognized with so much surprise and pleasure, my young friend, M—— G——, daughter of Capt. G——, of the navy, resides in it; and a visit to her and her husband has led me here. My messmate, Captain T——, of the marine corps, is an uncle of Mrs. M——. He passed a fortnight recently at San Aliexo, and joined the ship again, three days ago. Mr. M—— accompanied him on board, and so earnestly urged an invitation from himself and my young friend to their place, that I returned with him, and have now, for two days, been enjoying their hospitality in the very perfection of rural life. The trip as far as Piedade, at the head of the bay, twenty miles from Rio, is made by water. Till within a year or two, the packets plying between this place and the city, were exclusively sharp-built and gracefully modelled lateen sail-boats; but now, a little steamer, scarcely larger than the smallest “tug” at New York, also makes a daily trip. We embarked on this at noon, and reached Piedade at 3 o’clock; having stopped to land and receive passengers at Paqueta, the most beautiful of the islands in the upper part of the bay.
The day was remarkably fine; neither too bright nor glaring for the enjoyment of the scenery, as is often the case in this, the midsummer of the year, nor too sombre from the thickness of the screening clouds. There was quite a number of passengers, male and female, and of a variety of nations—Brazilian, Portuguese, French, German, Swiss, Italians, Englishmen, Americans, and numerous Africans, both bond and free. The Italians were image venders, having with them the long board which they carry on their heads in their travels, filled with the plaster casts of saints and angels, dancing-girls and satyrs, and, for aught I observed to the contrary, statuettes of the Prince of Evil himself. The images of the saints led to conversation among some of the passengers, long resident in the country, on the superstition and superstitious practices of the common people. Some of the anecdotes related were quite amusing. San Antonio, or St. Anthony, is the patron saint of the Portuguese. It is upon him chiefly they rely for aid in various straits and difficulties—especially in the recovery of lost or stolen property. The highly glazed and gaudily painted effigies of this saint, represent him with an infant Saviour in his arms. This baby-image is not, however, part and parcel of the principal cast, but a separate piece attached to the arm of the saint by a long pin, which can be inserted in a hole in the plaster, and removed at pleasure. And for what purpose is this arrangement, do you imagine? I could scarcely have credited the statement, had not an examination of the images corroborated it: the purpose is, that the saint, when regardless of the prayers made to him for aid in any specific case, may be punished by having the child taken from him! This, I am assured, is often done. An additional infliction for hard-heartedness or contumacy on his part, is to put his image behind the door with its face to the wall, or to stand it on its head, upside down! A gentleman present related the following fact, illustrative of a like degree of superstition. An old Portuguese, near whom he lived as a neighbor for a long time, and with whom he was familiar, said to him one day, “You Protestants do not believe in miracles?” “No, not in miracles of the present day—do you?” “Certainly.” “And why?” “Because I have experienced them myself.” “Indeed! and when was that?” “Oh! at different times: once in Portugal, when I was a young man. Like most young fellows, I was fond of dress then, and wore a pair of silver shoe-buckles, of which I was very vain. One Sunday having them on, I set off for chapel two or three miles distant, by a cross path, and when I got there, one of my buckles was gone. I was very much troubled; but staid to mass, vowing to San Antonio, if he would get back my buckle, I would give him a wax candle. On my way home, I kept looking along the path to see whether San Antonio would hear my prayer; and before I had gone half the way, there lay the buckle before me all right, on one side of the path. At another time I lost a favorite dog. I was very much grieved, and felt the loss so much, that one day, when walking along the road, I made a vow to San Antonio of a half pound of candles, if he would only bring him back; and I had scarcely said the words, before my dog came bouncing through the hedge to me as fast as he could run!” Such was the amount of the old man’s experience in miracles.
While mentally classifying my fellow-passengers, as to their nationality and social position, my eye rested on one of them, apparently some sixty years of age, whose aspect was peculiarly intelligent and gentlemanlike. A round jacket of blue cloth, trowsers of cotton striped blue and white, long boots of the country of undressed leather, with spurs of like fashion, a broad-brimmed, low-crowned, white felt hat, and a whip in hand, told that he was prepared to ride after reaching the landing. Pointing him out to Mr. M——, I said, “That person, I presume, is a country gentleman of the first class.” Looking in the direction indicated, he replied, “That is Admiral T——.” This I at once perceived to be the fact; and, both of us having before met him, we approached with our salutations. He is an Englishman, who left the British naval service when a lieutenant, thirty years ago, for that of Brazil, and has been advanced in it to the rank of admiral. After much important naval service, he was appointed adjutant-general of the Empire, during the minority of the Emperor, an office which he held for many years; but is now off duty, and on the retired list of the navy. I first met him in Rio in 1829; and a second time since the Congress has been on this station, but in so different a dress, that I did not now recognize him. He was on his way to a coffee plantation in the Organ Mountains; his horses and servants being also on board the steamer. His reception of us was most cordial, and his conversation during the remainder of the passage, interesting and instructive, from a perfect knowledge of the country. No meals are served on board the packet, and he insisted upon our joining him in a Brazilian lunch, as he called it, of sausages, made partly of beef and partly of pork—with a strong mingling of garlic—stuffed in a large skin, in imitation of those of Bologna. Cheese, and bread in rolls, with oranges for dessert, made up the repast: all being served in most primitive style, on the wrappers of brown paper in which the articles had been purchased at the grocer’s. Each of us used his own knife in helping himself, and all drank from a cup of silver, belonging to our host, which was as bruised and battered, as if it had done service for a whole mess in a dozen campaigns. We ate upon deck in the midst of our fellow-passengers; and were waited on by a slave in shirt and trowsers of coarse towcloth, without shoes or hat, but in a livery-jacket of blue turned up with red, and a red waistcoat. His master seemed most kindly attached to him, saying that, “in fidelity, honesty, and in every qualification for his business, he was worth any twenty ordinary servants ‘at home’”—referring, I suppose, to England.
Piedade, the place to which the steamer plies, consists of one long range of buildings under a single roof, and comprises a warehouse, for the storage of coffee and other products on their way to the city, and the returns in foreign goods; a packet office; a shop for the retail of articles in general demand; and a small venda or tavern—the eating and sleeping-rooms of which communicate directly with the stables and mule-stalls in the rear. Room for this establishment—along the front and on one end of which the wharf extends—has been scooped from the base of an isolated, round-topped promontory, which rises from the bay, much in the manner, and with the general appearance of Stony Point, near the entrance of the Highlands on the Hudson. We had intended to dine here; but the luncheon of the admiral saved us from all temptation on landing, from the oily dishes of the dirty venda, which, rank with garlic, were spreading their perfume around, and we hastened to proceed on our way.
It was quite a pleasure to see a light and tasteful wagon of American manufacture, with seats for two and a caleche top, in readiness to receive us; and one still greater to move off in it, at a rapid rate, behind two fat, sleek, and spirited mules. These animals are much more serviceable than horses in this climate. I am becoming so much accustomed to their appearance, as almost to admire them. Some of those brought to the landing to meet the passengers in company with us, were beautiful; especially two that were milk-white, rivalling the drifted snow. The saddlecloths and bridle-reins were also white, and in the most perfect keeping. In these animals, as well as some others, I could trace lines of beauty: particularly in their long and delicately shaped ears, their neatly shaven tails, and slender and symmetrically formed legs. On being mounted, they amble off, too, with their riders in such an easy and knowing way, that I am beginning to have quite a fancy for a well-trained beast of the kind.
Carriage roads are not common in Brazil. That on which we now were, is the principal among the few in this section of the empire, and leads across the mountains to the mining districts in the far interior. It is narrow, but well graded; having the earth thrown up in the centre with deep and wide trenches on either side. It is for the most part unfenced; enclosures by the wayside, wherever there are any, are formed by hedges of the thorny acacia, of mimosa, the running rose, the wild orange tree, or the hybiscus.
The road presented a lively scene for some distance, in the movements on it of the passengers from the boat—some in clumsy carriages, but chiefly on horse and mule-back, and the poorer class and negroes on foot. These last, with trunks and portmanteaus, boxes, bundles, and different kinds of packages of greater or less weight on their heads, walked erectly and with firm and rapid stride. The country between the waters of the bay and the foot of the mountains, a space of ten or twelve miles, is alluvial, low and wet,—a sandy and marshy plain, overspread with brushwood and jungle, from which numerous rounded hills rise abruptly on every side. These, well-wooded, and partially cultivated, are the sites of the few dwellings seen. The first part of the way presents the aspect of a region abounding in miasma and mosquitoes, with few attractions as a place of residence. At the end of four miles is the town of Majé, situated on a small river of the same name. It is the head of boat navigation, and counts a population of three or four thousand: but seems a dull and inactive place, and may be summarily described as a shabby and dirty Portuguese town.
Beyond Majé the country improved in appearance. The hills were more numerous and more swelling in outline, and their sides and summits more richly tufted with foliage. Here the chief animation of the scene consisted in long “troupes” of heavily laden mules with their muleteers, on their way from the interior, or returning from Piedade with panniers less heavily laden or entirely empty. Some were en route; others, grouped under the shade of immense open sheds or ranchos,—places built at distances of a few miles by the wayside, for the accommodation of these troupes—were resting for a brief time; and others again, relieved from their burdens for a longer stop, were seen eagerly seeking food, wherever they could find it by the wayside.
The enterprise which brought Mr. M—— to Brazil, and has made him a resident here, is the establishment of a cotton manufactory; and the road into which we turned from the great turnpike, as it is called, at the end of three miles from Majé, is of his own construction, to facilitate the transportation of the raw material and manufactured goods, to and from his establishment, five miles distant. It is not so wide or so well graded as the public road, but most creditable as a private work, and a great advance upon the mule-track and bridle-path of former days. The last four miles of the drive along the rich bottom-land of the Majé, and afterwards of its tributary, the Peak River, was beautiful. The narrow, lane-like road is lined closely on either side with green hedges, in some places of mallows covered with purple flowers, three or four feet only in height, and in others of the wild orange tree, rising to twenty and thirty. The loftier ranges of the mountains in front of us were hidden in clouds; still the wildness and beauty of the shafts which buttress them, and of the hills which form their bases, were more and more impressive the further we advanced. At length, as we turned the shoulder of a projecting hill, the little valley, three miles long, and half a mile wide, hemmed in and overhung by the wildest and loftiest peaks of the Organ Mountains, opened suddenly to view. To my eyes it was fascinating in its secluded beauty, and the wild sublimity of its surroundings. I can scarcely describe the effect, from association, of the unexpected sight of an “American Factory,” with its modest belfry, rising loftily and in snowy whiteness from the midst of green groves and bright streams; the cottages of the operatives being clustered around it; and, in a grove of acacias, a quarter of a mile distant, the “American” dwelling of the proprietor. I use the word “American” not in reference to fashion merely, but to material and construction, the whole having been fitted for use in the United States. There was not an image, in all that gave animation to the picture, to break the illusion of having been suddenly transported from Brazil, and set down in some manufacturing glen at home.
Mr. M——’s house is situated on a natural terrace, twenty feet above the level of a beautiful meadow of alfalfa or Peruvian grass, which lies between it and the factory. A road on the bank of the river runs beside this, in front of the house and lawn; and is a perfect specimen of the “green lane,” in the English landscape. Smooth, straight, and turf-covered, with a hedge of mimosa on the meadow side, and embowering thickets of bushes and trees overhanging the river on the other, it forms a striking object in the scene: one harmonizing well with the rural quietude and simplicity of the whole. In the lawn, which is on a level with the meadow and lane, there is a fountain and fine jet d’eau, and upon the terrace above, another between the drawing-room windows and the grove of acacias. A garden of fruit and flowers on the opposite side of the house, is separated from it by an artificial stream, whose bed is so paved with rough stones as to produce a constant murmur of soft sounds, as the water glides over and around them. Every thing in sight, indeed, though the place is new, presents a picture of taste and rural beauty, that makes me think of the “happy valley” in Rasselas.
It is unnecessary to say that I was most cordially received by my friend, whom I found in all the freshness and bloom of American beauty, and that I felt at once at home in her neat and tasteful abode.
Dec. 16th.—At the end of three days even, I cannot resist a feeling of having been transported from Brazil to some mountain region at home. There is nothing in the general foliage, except here and there the tufted top of a palm, or the broad leaf of the banana, to forbid the illusion. The place, in its quietude, its bright meadow and green lane, edged with hedges, its river whispering over a stony bed, beneath thicket-covered and tree-embowered banks, reminds me of Landsdown; while the house, an importation in all its parts from the United States; the factory, of which the same is true; and the distant hum of its busy looms and spindles, present a picture as strikingly characteristic of New England.
The weather is charming: clear and bright, with an occasional cloud of snowy whiteness floating against the deep blue of the sky, while breezes of grateful elasticity fan down from the mountain tops in the mornings and evenings, and sweep back through the valley with coolness from the distant sea at noonday. The nights, in their utter silence, are in wide contrast with those to which I have of late been accustomed: not a sound is heard but the plashings of the fountains and the murmurings of many waters.
The Sabbath was a day of rest indeed. I officiated at a service held in the hall at 11 o’clock, and would most gladly have attempted to make the day one of spiritual good to the operatives of the factory, and the numerous dependants of the establishment, by public worship with them. With the exception of the foreman and one or two assistants, however, all these are foreigners—Portuguese and Germans, whose languages I do not speak, and who, moreover, are chiefly Romanists, not accessible to a Protestant by preaching. The greatest number of those who are employed in the factory are females—Germans from the Imperial colony of Petropolis: the male portion are Portuguese from Oporto and the islands of Madeira and Terceira. The house-servants, the waiter, coachman, gardener and under-gardener, are Portuguese; the chambermaid, cook, and laundress, free negresses.
There is a Romish chapel within three miles of the valley; but it is closed for the most of the year, and is not frequented by the work-people here. The parish priest, like most others in the country, is living in a state of open concubinage, and is in other ways unpopular as to his morals. In passing through Majé, we met a fine-looking young man, handsomely mounted, followed by two negroes on mules. I was struck with his appearance, and, remarking it, learned that he was a son of the padre of the place, the eldest of a large family. We saw the father shortly afterwards, and received a bow from him at a door, as he was about to mount his mule. This animal I observed to be one of the finest of the kind I had seen; and I was struck with the peculiar fashion of the stirrups of the saddle; they were of polished brass, richly wrought, and in the form of a Turkish slipper.
December 18th.—On Tuesday I took a ride of two miles or more on horseback, to the head of the little valley. This presents a most wild and romantic scene: making one feel, in gazing upon it,—while mountain piled upon mountain, and pinnacled rock rising above pinnacled rock, tower, almost perpendicularly, thousands of feet overhead,—as if you had not only passed beyond civilization, but had arrived at the outer edge of the world itself, where, by the inaccessible barriers in front and on either hand, it is more impressively said than even by the waves of the sea-shore, “Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further.”
After passing Mr. M——’s place, the only road is a mule-path, wide enough for a single animal, and in all respects, excepting the tracks of repeated use, in the state in which nature formed it—not a stone removed, and not an ascent or descent, however abrupt and precipitous, smoothed or graded. A few scattered habitations formed of wattled sticks, plastered with mud, and thatched with grass, are seen here and there; but less comfortable, apparently, and less attractive as dwellings, than the meanest log cabins on the outskirts of pioneer life in the United States. A few patches of mandioca, and one or two of Indian corn, alone indicated any cultivation of the soil, or gave evidence of a pursuit of industry.
The course of the principal stream is a broad bed of wild and massive rocks, from one to another of which, ordinarily, you may step dry-shod; but, in rains, these are covered by rushing and foaming torrents, and the stream is impassable. The next morning Mr. M—— accompanied me in a second ride, up a valley branching to the west from this, called the Peak Valley, from a remarkable peak of granite, which rises at its head: one of those sugar-loaf shafts, so common in the geological formation of this region. This valley, too, is exceedingly wild, in its chief features; and is watered by a rapid stream called the Peak River, tributary to that on which the factory stands.
The only drawback to the entire satisfaction of my visit, for the first three days, was the concealment by thick clouds, of the pikes or fingers as named by some, and all the higher ranges of the Organ Mountains which immediately overhang San Aliexo. These had so often been the object of admiration at a distance, when visible from Rio, that I was impatient to behold them close at hand; but had been tantalized only, by an occasional, indistinct, and momentary glimpse, through the mist of an opening cloud, of a fantastic peak or shelving precipice, standing high in the heavens above us. Just at nightfall, last evening, however, the veil was entirely lifted, and I charmed beyond expectation by the scene thus disclosed: and not without reason, as even the imperfect sketch accompanying this will show.
I was up with the dawn this morning, and, finding the whole range to be still uncovered, hastened to a part of the lawn which commands the best view of it. The rising sun was just beginning to illuminate the loftiest peaks with a bright and golden light; and I stood for an hour riveted to the spot, in the study and untiring admiration of a scene, gorgeous in coloring, and of unrivalled sublimity in its outlines. By nine o’clock the mists from the valleys had again enshrouded the whole in clouds.
Though the present is the rainy season of the year, till yesterday the weather was bright as that of June at home: but then, while we were at dinner, it began suddenly to pour down in torrents; presenting every thing out of doors in a new phase. At the end of a couple of hours the rain ceased; and the paths in the lawn and the road soon became sufficiently dry to allow our taking a walk. Mr. M—— and I went to observe the effect upon the river. This was surprising. From a bed of rocks, among which a shallow stream was lazily flowing, it had become a swollen and irresistible torrent: wide and deep, roaring like a tornado, and foaming like the sea. As we approached a venda, or retail store and grocery, a quarter of a mile up the valley, there was a shout and call for us, by several persons collected there, to hurry on, as if something unusual was to be seen. These, at the same time, set off on a run towards a point near by them, which commands an unobstructed view of the river above. Mr. M—— told me, as we hastened forward, that the sight was the approach of an additional flood of water from the mountain. This, though not now so remarkable in its appearance as it sometimes is, was very singular. The mass of water tumbled by such showers down the precipices which hedge in the little valley, is so great, and rushes so suddenly into the bed of the river, as in itself to exhibit the appearance from bank to bank, of passing over a dam. The perpendicular elevation of this new body of water above that previously forming the surface of the stream, was a couple or more feet.
We were standing at the time, near a rude mill for grinding the root of the mandioca, and the conversion of it into farina—the “staff of life” in Brazil; it was in operation, and the process in the manufacture going on, under the management of a half-dozen nearly naked negroes. The mandioca is every where seen growing in plantations of greater or less extent, in all the tropical parts of Brazil. It resembles the palma christi, or castor oil plant, in its general appearance, more than any other growth that occurs to me. The leaves, though smaller and of a darker green, are in like manner digitated or finger-shaped, and the stem and branches irregular and scraggy. It grows to the height of four and five feet, and attains maturity at the end of eighteen or twenty months after being planted. The roots produce the farina. These, at full growth, are of the size and general appearance of a large irregularly-formed parsnip. After being brought from the field in wide, shallow baskets, carried by the negroes on their heads, the first operation is to scrape off the outer skin with a knife. In this state the root is very white and pure in looks, but poisonous in acrid juices. A rasp or coarse grater is so arranged as to be turned by a water-wheel; against this the root is held, and becoming finely grated, falls into a trough or tub of water, prepared to receive it, and is reduced to a pulp. In this state, it is placed in baskets and pressed with heavy weights, till freed from the water and its own juices. It is then dried, broken up or powdered, sifted through a coarse sieve, and placed in a very large flat iron pan, having a furnace with slow heat beneath. In this it is thoroughly dried, without being allowed to scorch or burn. It is then put in bags for use or sale.
One of the effects of the rain, was the appearance of numerous cascades and temporary waterfalls on the tops and sides of the mountains. I dare not venture to guess even, at the extent of some of these. They foam down their courses, white as drifting snow, and look beautiful, amid the deep green of the forests, and the dark precipices over which they pour.
The history of Mr. M——’s enterprise in the introduction of cotton-spinning and weaving, here, is quite interesting, and has caused me to look upon him as a pioneer in such business, well worthy the reputation of our countrymen for energy, invention, and indomitable perseverance; and an instructive example of the importance of a fixed purpose for the accomplishment of an end. He met, at first, with a succession of disappointments and unexpected obstacles, which would have utterly disheartened and broken down a spirit less determined, and less elastic than his own. Brought up in mercantile pursuits without practical knowledge in mechanics or manufacture, he determined, in 1846, to attempt the establishment of a cotton factory in Brazil. A gentleman from Rio, then in New York, encouraged him in the project, by the assurance that the vicinity of Rio furnished ample water-power for the object; that, abounding in hills and mountains, streams of water in sufficient volume, were in various places poured down. The Brazilian minister at Washington, also expressed great interest in the subject, and by way of encouragement to Mr. M——, gave him a copy of an act, passed by the Imperial Legislature in 1842, by which all machinery for manufacturing purposes of the kind, was exempted from duty. Under these auspices, he expended capital to a large amount, in the necessary machinery, in materials for the large structure in which it was to be put up, and in the freight of both to Rio. Mr. M—— hastened in advance to Brazil, to make choice of a site for the establishment, and secure it by purchase: but only to meet a first disappointment. The streams on which his Brazilian friend had relied, as abundantly ample in water-power, would have scarcely sufficed, as Mr. M—— expressed it, to water the mules necessary in the work. An exploration of the entire region within thirty miles of Rio became necessary, for the discovery of an unfailing stream, with water sufficient to turn a large wheel, and in a situation to be available. He could gain no information on the point upon which he could rely, and was obliged to make the search in person, through woods and wilds, and over marshes and moors, and in ignorance, at the time, of the language of the country. A month thus occupied, brought to his knowledge two supplies of water only, that would answer his purpose: one at Tejuca, nine or ten miles from Rio, and another in the direction of Petropolis, a colony of Germans in the mountains. That at Tejuca, besides being already leased for other purposes, was inaccessible except by mules as means of transportation, and therefore, not to be thought of; the other was the private property of the Emperor, and not obtainable in any way.
Such were the prospects of Mr. M——, with fifty thousand dollars worth of material on its way to Rio, accompanied by several workmen under high pay, for the erection of the necessary buildings, and to put the machinery into an available condition. After all other search had proved in vain, he was accidentally led to this valley, and unexpectedly here found much, if not all, he was looking for. About the same time, the shipment from the United States arrived; but, notwithstanding the decree furnished him by the Brazilian minister, declaring such articles free, the officials at the Custom House pertinaciously demanded the duty upon them. This, according to the tariff, like most of the imposts here on any thing foreign, was high, and would have materially increased his expenditure. The only alternative was an application for relief in the case, to the minister having cognizance of such affairs. Those in official position in Brazil, from the Minister of State to the most insignificant employé of a bureau, hold the dignity conferred in high estimation, and are inaccessible in proportion to their rank. Three months elapsed before Mr. M—— could gain the audience sought; and then, only to be told, that the exemption referred to in the decree of the Imperial legislature, was exclusively for the benefit of persons who had already established factories and needed additional machinery; not for those who were introducing machinery for a new establishment. The decision, therefore, was that the duties must be paid; but, for the law in the case, he was referred to the attorney-general of the empire. This dignitary condescended to grant Mr. M—— an audience at the end of an additional six weeks; but decided with the minister, that the duties must be paid, or at least, deposited with the collector of customs till the factory should be in operation. Thus, though the enterprise was one of great importance to the interests of the country, and such as should at once have secured the favor and aid of the government, the entire material necessary for carrying it into execution, was kept for nine months in the hands of the custom-house officers, greatly exposed to rust and injury, and only released on the payment of several thousands of dollars. It would occupy too much time to pursue the history of the enterprise in detail: in the construction of a dam across the river at a great outlay of money and labor, only to have it swept away by a flood from the mountains; in the consequent necessity of digging a long race-way along the base of the hills, without the possibility of securing the adequate number of laborers, white or black; and also, of making the road of five miles to the turnpike. Over this last work, when finished, the whole of the material for the factory building and the machinery, among which a single piece—the shaft of the great wheel—weighed 7000 lbs., was to be transported, without any of the facilities, so common with us, for accomplishing it.
The mechanics and artisans, brought from the United States for the erection of the building, were found to be incompetent in many respects; and the result was, that Mr. M—— was obliged himself to perform much of the manual labor even, and instead of planning, devising, and superintending only, to become practically a carpenter, mason, machinist; and even freightmaster and carter, as no one around him, whose aid he could secure, knew what course to pursue in an emergency, or even in any common difficulty that might occur: he was obliged first to discover how a thing was to be done, and then do it himself. Still he persevered through every discouragement and disaster, till his efforts were crowned with full success, and the factory was early in operation.
Though it is only in the more common fabrics in cotton that the manufacturer here can yet compete with British and American goods; and the article chiefly produced, thus far, is a coarse cloth for coffee bagging and the clothes of slaves, he deserves a medal of honor from the government, and the patronage of the empire, not only for the establishment of the manufactory, but for the living example set before a whole Province of the indolent and sluggish natives, of Yankee energy, ingenuity, indefatigable industry, and unyielding perseverance.