Rio de Janeiro, or January River, so called because discovered by Dias de Solis on the feast of St. Januarius, (Sept. 19) 1525, is not in fact a river, though its name denotes that it was then supposed to be so: it is an arm of the sea, into which a considerable number of small rivers descends.
The city of Rio de Janeiro, called by some writers St. Sebastian, from the name of its tutelar patron, is situated on the west side of this bay, within less than a degree of the tropic of Capricorn, and about 43° west of Greenwich. It is at present the capital of all Brasil, and has been for some time the residence of the Viceroy. These distinctions it obtained in preference to St. Salvador, which was formerly the capital, by means of the diamond mines discovered in its vicinity, in the year 1730. The place increasing rapidly by the wealth thus brought to it, was fortified and put under the care of a governor in 1738. The port is one of the finest in the world, very narrow at the entrance, and within capacious enough to contain more ships than ever were assembled at one station. It has soundings from twenty to one hundred and twenty fathoms. A hill shaped like a sugar loaf, situated on the west side, marks the proper bearing for entering the harbour: the situation of which is fully pointed out at the distance of two leagues and a half by some small islands, one of which, called Rodonda, is very high, and in form not unlike a haycock. The mouth of the harbour is defended by forts, particularly two, called Santa Cruz and Lozia; and the usual anchorage within it is before the city, north of a small island named Dos Cobras.
There are in this port established fees, which are paid by all merchant ships, Portuguese as well as strangers: 3l. 12s. each on entering the bay, the same on going out, and 5s. 6d. a day while they remain at anchor. The entrance fee was demanded for the transports in this expedition, but when Governor Phillip had alledged that they were loaded with King's stores, the payment was no more insisted upon. Nevertheless, the Captain of the Port gave his attendance, with his boat's crew, to assist the ships in coming in, there being at that time only a light air, hardly sufficient to carry them up the bay.
In the narrative of Captain Cook's Voyage in 1768, we find, on his arrival at this place, great appearance of suspicion on the part of the Viceroy, harsh prohibitions of landing, even to the gentlemen employed in philosophical researches, and some proceedings rather of a violent nature. The reception given by the present Viceroy to Governor Phillip and his officers was very different: it was polite and flattering to a great degree, and free from every tincture of jealous caution.
Don Lewis de Varconcellos, the reigning Viceroy, belongs to one of the noblest families in Portugal; is brother to the Marquis of Castello Methor, and to the Count of Pombeiro. Governor Phillip, who served for some years as a Captain in the Portuguese navy, and is deservedly much honoured by that nation, was not personally unknown to the Viceroy, though known in a way which, in a less liberal mind, might have produced very different dispositions. There had been some difference between them, on a public account, in this port, when Governor Phillip commanded the Europe: each party had acted merely for the honour of the nation to which he belonged, and the Viceroy, with the true spirit of a man of honour, far from resenting a conduct so similar to his own, seemed now to make it his object to obliterate every recollection of offence. As soon as he was fully informed of the nature of Governor Phillip's commission, he gave it out in orders to the garrison that the same honours should be paid to that officer as to himself. This distinction the Governor modestly wished to decline, but was not permitted. His officers were all introduced to the Viceroy, and were, as well as himself, received with every possible mark of attention to them, and regard for their country. They were allowed to visit all parts of the city, and even to make excursions as far as five miles into the country, entirely unattended: an indulgence very unusual to strangers, and considering what we read of the jealousy of the Portuguese Government respecting its diamond mines, the more extraordinary.
Provisions were here so cheap, that notwithstanding the allowance of meat was fixed by Governor Phillip at twenty ounces a day, the men were victualled completely, rice, fresh vegetables, and firing included, at three-pence three-farthings a head. Wine was not at this season to be had, except from the retail dealers, less was therefore purchased than would otherwise have been taken. Rum, however, was laid in; and all such seeds and plants procured as were thought likely to flourish on the coast of New South Wales, particularly coffee, indigo, cotton, and the cochineal fig.* As a substitute for bread, if it should become scarce, one hundred sacks of cassada were purchased at a very advantageous price.
[* Cactus Cochinilifer, of Linnaeus.]
Cassada, the bread of thousands in the tropical climates, affords one of those instances in which the ingenuity of man might be said to triumph over the intentions of nature, were it not evidently the design of Providence that we should in all ways exert our invention and sagacity to the utmost, for our own security and support. It is the root of a shrub called Cassada, or Cassava Jatropha, and in its crude state is highly poisonous. By washing, pressure, and evaporation, it is deprived of all its noxious qualities, and being formed into cakes becomes a salubrious and not an unpalatable substitute for bread.
By the indulgence of the Viceroy, the deficiency in the military stores observed at the departure of the transports from England, was made up by a supply purchased from the Royal arsenal; nor was any assistance withheld which either the place afforded, or the stores of government could furnish.
The circumstances, which in this place most astonish a stranger, and particularly a Protestant, are, the great abundance of images dispersed throughout the city, and the devotion paid to them. They are placed at the corner of almost every street, and are never passed without a respectful salutation; but at night they are constantly surrounded by their respective votaries, who offer up their prayers aloud, and make the air resound in all quarters with the notes of their hymns. The strictness of manners in the inhabitants is not said to be at all equivalent to the warmth of this devotion; but in all countries and climates it is found much easier to perform external acts of reputed piety, than to acquire the internal habits so much more essential. It must be owned, however, that our people did not find the ladies so indulgent as some voyagers have represented them.