CHAPTER XX.
LISBON AND ITS SURROUNDINGS.
The room in the Hotel Braganza occupied by Sheridan and Murray was an excellent one, so far as the situation was concerned; for it commanded a beautiful view of the Tagus and the surrounding country.
“I should think this hotel had been a fort some time,” said Sheridan, when they rose in the morning. “Those windows look like port-holes for cannon.”
“It is the house of Braganza, and ought to be a royal hotel; but it is not very elegantly furnished. There are no towels here. Where is the bell?”
“I noticed that there was one outside of each room on this floor. Here is the bell-pull. It is an original way to fix the bells,” added Sheridan. “The bell-boys must come up three flights of stairs in order to hear them ring.”
“But, if the waiter don’t speak English, what will you ask for?” laughed Murray.
“I have a book of four languages that I picked up in Madrid,—French, Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese,” said the captain, as he took the volume from his bag. “Here it is. ‘Une serviette,’—that’s a napkin, but it will do as well,—‘um guardinapo.’”
The bell was rung, and a chambermaid answered it. The word brought the towels, but Sheridan pointed to the wash-stand; and the pantomime would have answered just as well as speech, for the woman could see what was wanting. When they were dressed, Dr. Winstock came to the door, and invited them to visit the top of the house, which commanded a view even more extensive than the window.
“The Tagus runs about east and west here,” said he. “It is about a mile wide, but widens out into a broad bay opposite the city. There is no finer harbor in the world. The old part of the city, between the castle and the river, was not destroyed by the earthquake. Between us and the castle is a small region of straight streets; and this is the part that was destroyed. On the river below us are the marine arsenal and the custom-house, with the Praca do Commercio between them.”
“The what?” asked Murray.
“Praca is the Portuguese for ‘square;’ ‘Commercial Square’ in English will cover it. This one has several names; and the English, who are in great force in Lisbon, call it Black Horse Square. There is very little to see in Lisbon. Orders have come up for all hands to be on the quay at nine o’clock, to go on board the Prince for the lecture; and we must breakfast first.”
After the lecture the Princes went on shore again. The doctor with his pupils took a carriage, and proceeded to “do” the city. Their first point was the square they had seen from the housetop. On one side of it was an arch supporting a clock-tower. In the centre was an equestrian statue of Joseph I., erected by the inhabitants out of gratitude to the king and the Marquis of Pombal for their efforts to rebuild the city after the great earthquake. On the pedestal is an effigy of the marquis, who was the king’s minister, as powerful as he was unpopular. The populace cut his head out of the statue when the king died, but it was restored fifty years later.
“This street,” said the doctor, indicating the one over which the ornamental arch was extended, “is the Rua Augusta.”
“I think the Commercial is as fine a square as I have seen in Europe,” added Sheridan.
“Most people agree with you. Now, if we pass through the Rua Augusta, we shall come to the Praca do Rocio, which is also a beautiful square. There are three other streets running parallel with this; on one side is Gold, and on the other Silver Street.”
“They build their houses very high for an earthquaky country,” said Murray.
“And this is the very spot which was sunk. I suppose they don’t expect to have another convulsion.”
The carriage proceeded into the square, and then to another, only a couple of blocks from it, in which was the fruit-market. It was lined with trees, with a fountain in the centre. All around it were men and women selling fruit and other commodities. It was a lively scene. In this square they saw a Portuguese cart of the model that was probably used by the Moors. The wheels do not revolve on the axle, but the axle turns with the wheels, as in a child’s tin wagon, and creak and groan fearfully as they do so. As they passed through the Campo Santa Anna, the doctor pointed out the Circo dos Touros, or bull-ring.
“But a bull-fight here is a tame affair compared with those in Spain,” he explained. “They do not kill the bull, nor are any horses gored to death; for the horns of the animal are tipped with large wooden balls. It is a rather lively affair, and will answer very well if you have not seen the real thing. It is said that there are seven hills in Lisbon, as in Rome; but this is a vanity of many other cities. There are many hills in Lisbon, however; and there seems to be a church or a convent on every one of them. This is the Passio Publico; and it is crowded with people on a warm evening,” continued the doctor, as they came to a long and narrow park. “It is the prado of Lisbon.
“I shall ask you to visit only one church in this city, unless you desire to see more; and this is the one,” said the doctor, as the carriage stopped at a plain building. “This is St. Roque. It is said that Dom John V., when he visited this church, was greatly mortified at the mean appearance of the chapel of his patron saint. He ordered one to be prepared in Rome, of the richest materials. When it was done, mass was said in it by the pope, Benedict XIV.; and then it was taken to pieces, and sent to Lisbon, where it was again set up as you will find it.”
The party entered the church, and the attendant gave each of them a printed sheet on which was a description of the chapel. It proved to be a rather small recess; but the mosaics of the baptism of Christ in the Jordan by John, and other scriptural designs, are of the highest order of merit. The floor, ceiling, and sides are of the same costly work, the richest marbles and gems being used. The chapel contains eight columns of lapis-lazuli. The whole of this is said to have cost fourteen million crusados, over eight million dollars; but others say only one million crusados, and probably the last sum is nearer the truth.
The next day was Sunday; and in the morning the United States steamer Franklin—the largest in the service—came into the river. There was a Portuguese frigate off the marine arsenal; and what with saluting the flag of Portugal, and the return-salute, saluting Mr. Lewis the American minister, and saluting Mr. Diamond the American consul, when each visited the ship, the guns of the great vessel were blazing away about all the forenoon. But the students were proud of the ship; and they did not object to any amount of gun-firing, even on Sunday. In the afternoon, some of them went to the cathedral, which was formerly a mosque, and to some of the other churches. All hands attended service on board of the American Prince at eleven.
The next morning the Josephines and Tritonias started on their tour through the peninsula to Barcelona; and the ship’s company went on board of the steamer. Regular discipline was restored; but the business of sight-seeing was continued for two days more. The doctor conducted his little party to the palace of the Necessidades.
“What a name for a palace!” exclaimed Murray. “I suppose that jaw-breaker means ‘necessities.’”
“That is just what it means. Circumstances often give names to palaces and other things; and it was so in this case. A weaver brought an image of the Blessed Virgin from a place on the west coast, from which he fled to escape the plague. With money he begged of the pious, he built a small chapel for the image, near this spot. Like so many of these virgins, it wrought the most wonderful miracles, healing the sick, restoring the lame, and opening the eyes of the blind; and many people came to it in their ‘necessities,’ for relief. Dom John V. believed in it, and built a handsome church, with a convent attached to it, for the blessed image. It had restored his health once, and he built this palace near it, that it might be handy for his ‘necessities.’ During the long sickness preceding his death, he had it brought to the palace with royal honors, and kept it there in state, taking it with him wherever he went.
“This square is the Fraca Alcantara,” continued the doctor, when they came from the palace. “There are plenty of fountains in the city, nearly every public square being supplied with one. When I was here before, there were more water-carriers than now; and they were all men of Gallicia, as in Madrid. Three thousand of them used to be employed in supplying the inhabitants with water; but now it is probably conveyed into most of the houses in pipes. You can tell these men from the native Portuguese, because they carry their burden, whatever it may be, on their shoulders instead of their heads. A proverb here is to the effect that God made the Portuguese first, and then the Gallego to wait upon him. Most of the male servants in houses come from Gallicia. They are largely the porters and laborers, for the natives are too proud to carry burdens: it is too near like the work of a mule or a donkey. It is said, that when the French approached Coimbra in the peninsular war, and the people deserted the city, the men would not carry their valuables with them, so great was their prejudice against bundles; and every thing was lost except what the women could take with them. They could not disgrace themselves to save their property.”
“No wonder the country is poor,” added Sheridan.
“Now we will cross the bridge, and ride through Buenos Ayres, where many of the wealthy people live, and some of the ambassadors,” continued the doctor.
They had a pleasant ride, passing the English cemetery in which Henry Fielding and Dr. Doddridge were buried. On the return, they passed the principal cemetery of the city. It is called the Prazeres, which means “pleasures;” a name it obtained by accident, and not because it was considered appropriate.
The following day was set apart for an excursion to Cintra and Mafra, and a sufficient number of omnibuses were sent to a point on the north-west road; for the students were to walk over the aqueduct in order to see that wonderful work. The party ascended some stone steps to a large hall which contains the reservoir. It is near the Praca do Rato, and not far from the centre of the city. The party then entered the arched gallery, eight feet high and five feet wide, through which the water-ways are led. In the middle is a paved pathway for foot-passengers. On either side of it is a channel in the masonry, nine inches wide and a foot deep in the centre, rounded at the bottom. It looked like a small affair for the supply of a great city. The aqueduct is carried on a range of arches over the valley of the Alcantara, which is the name of the little stream that flows into the Tagus near the Necessidades. The highest of these arches are two hundred and sixty-three feet above the river. A causeway was built on each side of it, forming a bridge to the villages in the suburbs; but its use was discontinued because so many people committed suicide by throwing themselves from the dizzy height, or were possibly murdered by robbers. This aqueduct was erected by Dom John V., and it is the pride of the city. The water comes from springs six miles away.
“Why did we have those water-jars in the hotel if they have spring-water?” asked Sheridan, as they walked along the gallery.
“They think the water is better kept in those jars,” replied Dr. Winstock; “and I believe they are right; at least, they would be if they would keep the ants out of them.”
On the other side of the valley the excursionists loaded themselves into the omnibuses, and were soon on their way to Cintra, which is fourteen miles from Lisbon. It is a sort of Versailles, Potsdam, or Windsor, where the court resides during a part of the year, and where all the wealthy and fashionable people spend their summers. It is a beautiful drive, with many pleasant villages, palaces, country-seats, groves, and gardens by the way.
“Here we are,” said the doctor to his young companions, when the carriage in which they had come stopped before Victor’s Hotel. “Southey said this was the most blessed spot in the habitable world. Byron sang with equal enthusiasm; and the words of these poets have made the place famous in England. Our American guide-book does not even mention it.”
Cintra is a town of forty-five hundred inhabitants. It is built on the southern end of the Estrella Mountains, at an elevation of from eighteen hundred to three thousand feet. It is only a few miles from the seashore, and the Atlantic may be seen from its hills. The party of the doctor first went to the royal palace. It was the Alhambra of the Moorish monarchs, and has been a favorite residence of the Christian kings. Dom Sebastian held his last court here when he left for Africa. The students wandered through its numerous apartments, laughed at its magpie saloon, and thought of the kings who had dwelt within its walls. They were more pleased with the gardens, though it was winter; for there was a great deal in them that was curious and interesting.
The Pena Convent was the next attraction. All convents have been suppressed in Portugal, as in Spain; but the Gothic building has been repaired, and it looks more like a castle than a religious house. Its garden and grounds must be magnificent in the proper season. The view from the highest point presents an almost boundless panorama of country, river, and ocean. The Moorish castle that commands the town was examined; and the next thing was the Cork Convent. It is an edifice built in and on the rock, and contains twenty cells, each of which is lined with cork to keep out the dampness of the rock on which it is founded. These cells are dungeons five feet square, with doors so low that even the shortest of the students had to stoop to enter them.
A country-house in Portugal is a quinta; and that of Dom John de Castro, the great navigator and the viceroy of the Indies, is called Penha Verda, and is still in the hands of his descendants. The gardens are very pretty; and the first orange-trees set out in Europe were on this estate. In the garden is the chapel built by him on his return from the Indies, in 1542, and the rock with six trees on it, which was the only reward he desired for the conquest of the Island of Diu, in Hindostan. He died in the arms of St. Francis Xavier, in 1548, protesting that he had spent every thing he had in supplying the wants of his comrades in arms. He declared that he had not a change of linen, or money enough to buy him a chicken for his dinner. Most of the enormous wealth of the Indies had passed through his hands; and he had not stolen a vintem of it. What an example for modern office-holders! When he was dead, only one vintem—about two cents—was found in his coffers. His descendants were prohibited from deriving any profit from the cultivation of this property.
The rest of the time was given to wandering about among the estates of the wealthy men, including some of the foreign ministers, who have quintas in Cintra.
After a lunch, the excursionists proceeded to Mafra, about ten miles from Cintra. This place contains an enormous pile of buildings on the plan of the Escurial, and rather larger, if any thing. It was erected by John V. to carry out his vow to change the poorest monastery into the most magnificent one when Heaven would give him a son. It contains eight hundred and sixty-six apartments; but the only one of interest to the students was the audience-chamber, preserved as it was when the palace was inhabited by Dom John.
It was late in the evening when the Princes returned to Lisbon; and they were rather glad to learn that the ship was to sail for Barcelona after breakfast the next morning.
“I am rather sorry that we do not go to Oporto,” said the doctor, when the captain informed him of the order. “It is an old city set on a hillside; but it would not interest the students any more than Lisbon has.”
“By the way, doctor, we have not seen any port wine,” added Sheridan.
“It is not a great sight to look at the casks that contain port wine. In Porto, not Oporto in Portugal, it is not the black, logwood decoction which passes under the name of port in the United States, though it is darker than ordinary wines. It gets its color and flavor from the peculiarity of the grapes that grow in the vicinity of Porto.”
The officers were tired enough to turn in. Early the next morning the fires were roaring in the furnaces of the Prince; at a later hour the pipe of the boatswain was heard; and at half-past eight the steamer was standing down the river. As the students had not come to Lisbon from the sea, they all gathered on the deck and in the rigging to see the surroundings.
“That building on the height is the palace of Ajuda, where the present king ordinarily resides,” said the surgeon, when the captain pointed it out to one of the officers. “A temporary wooden house was built on that hill for the royal family after the earthquake. It is very large for this little kingdom, but is only one-third of the size it was intended to be. It was erected by John VI.; or, rather, it was begun by him, for it is not finished.”
“You can see the buildings on the Cintra hills,” added Murray.
“Yes; and you can see them better from the ocean.”
“That is Belem Castle,” said Sheridan, as the ship approached the mouth of the river. “I saw a picture of it in an illustrated paper at home.”
“It is called the Tower of Belem; and there is a palace with the same name on the shore. This is half Gothic and half Moorish. It is round, and the style is unique. What it was built for, no one knows. I suppose you are not aware how Columbus ascertained that there was a Western Continent,” added the doctor, smiling.
“I know what the books say,—that he reasoned it out in his own mind,” replied the captain.
“You see that town on the north: it is Cascaes, in which Sanchez, the renowned pilot, was born,” continued the doctor. “In 1486 Sanchez was blown off in a storm; and, before he could bring up, he was carried to an unknown land somewhere in North America. On his way back he stopped at Madeira, where he was the guest of Columbus. Somehow the log-book of the pilot fell into the hands of the great navigator, and from it he learned that there was an American Continent.”
“Do you believe that story?” asked Sheridan seriously.
“I do not. There are too many difficulties in the way of it; but it was told me by a Portuguese pilot.”
When the ship had passed the bar, the pilot was discharged, and the course laid to the south. Just at dark she was in sight of Cape St. Vincent. The doctor related the story of its name, which was given to it because the body of St. Vincent, martyred in Rome, found its way to this cape, where it was watched over for a long period by crows. The ship that conveyed it to Lisbon was followed by these birds; and tame crows were afterwards kept in the cathedral, where the remains were deposited, in memory of the miraculous care of these birds. Three great naval victories have been won by the English Navy off this cape. Rodney defeated the Spanish fleet in 1780; Nelson, with fifteen small vessels, beat twenty-seven Spanish men-of-war, in 1797; and Sir Charles Napier, in 1833, with six vessels, only one of them a frigate, defeated ten Portuguese ships, thus putting an end to the Miguel war, and placing Maria I. on the throne of Portugal. The next day the Prince passed Cape Trafalgar, where, in 1805, Nelson gained his great naval victory over the combined fleets of France and Spain.
On Sunday morning the Prince arrived at Barcelona.