Brazil and La Plata: The personal record of a cruise

by C. S. Stewart

From the Barriera the ascent becomes increasingly steep, and the road is formed by zigzag cuts in the sides of the mountains, and, at places, around their projecting shoulders. The angles at the turns are very sharp, and the road rises in terrace above terrace—at some points edging upon precipitous ravines and deep chasms, hundreds of feet in perpendicular descent. In these sections, the long lines of mules, as seen both above and below, struggling up or moving cautiously down, are particularly striking. In several places the way was wet and miry, and many a poor beast was down in the mud with his burden upon him, but lying quietly and patiently, as if accustomed to such accidents, waiting for the coming up of his troupiero to relieve him of his load, and thus enable him to rise. As we mounted higher and higher, the landscape became more and more extensive. By degrees the northern end of the Bay of Rio opened to view, followed rapidly by the islands which cluster in it; the mountain-ranges of its eastern coast; the Sugar Loaf, Raza and Round Islands in the offing; the Corcovado, Gavia and peak of Tejuca—embracing a panorama more than a hundred miles in circuit, in the midst of which the imperial city, though forty miles distant, was distinctly seen gleaming in the afternoon’s sun. Such was the scene on one side of us, while on the other the pikes of the Sierra close at hand, rose in savage nakedness three thousand feet above our heads. The world boasts many pictures in nature, in which loveliness and sublimity are combined, but I doubt whether this “Boa Vista”—“Fine View,” of the Organ Mountain does not rival any single combination of mountain, valley, and water, that man ever beheld. I can remember nothing in my own experience equal in interest to this day’s ride; unless it may be the travel through the mountains of Granada, followed by the first view of the “Vega,” with the city, the walls and towers of the Alhambra, and the snow-covered heights of the Nevada above, all gloriously lighted by the glowing hues of the setting sun.

Though uncertain of the length of time it would require to reach our destination before nightfall, we lingered long in silent admiration of the picture; and at last, found it difficult to make up our minds to turn the point of a projecting rock marking the highest elevation of the road, and which shuts it from view. From this point the descent on the north commences. It is gradual, and unmarked by any striking features, except the jagged peaks on the left. Thick mist and clouds soon enveloped these, and for a time the way became comparatively tame and uninteresting.

H—— Hall, the mountain home of Mr. H——, an English merchant of Rio, whom we had been invited to visit, is situated a short distance from the sierra. We called upon the family for a short time; but, anxious to reach Constantia, resisted their persuasions to remain over night, or at least to dinner, and hastened on our way. At the end of six miles, we turned from the public road into a bridle-path leading through thick woods, filled with the music of birds. Many of the trees overhanging us were magnificent in size—monarchs of the primeval forest, stately and venerable with the growth of centuries. One, whose branches entirely overarched the road, at an elevation of more than a hundred feet, particularly excited our admiration. Though its limbs were gnarled and distorted, and in themselves leafless, they were so fantastic in shape as well as gigantic in dimensions, and so adorned and draped with parasites and creepers, and festoons of gray moss, as to be a fit study for an artist.

At the end of three additional miles, we came suddenly upon a fine field of luxuriant Indian corn enclosed by a hedge. Into this a rustic gate led, which our guide threw open without dismounting, and uttered the announcement, apparently with as much pleasure as it gave us to hear it, “Esta Constantia!” “This is Constantia!” We were at the entrance of a little valley, two miles in length by a half mile in width, encircled by high hills, in the midst of which the buildings of the establishment of Mr. Heath are clustered. These consist of a principal house of two stories, plastered and whitewashed, and having a steep shingled roof; four cottages of one story in the same style, in front of this; and various out-buildings and offices in the rear, with quarters for the negroes—the whole having the general appearance of a Swiss or German hamlet. The approach is by a well-made drive, half a mile in length. Trees of natural growth have been left here and there near this and in the adjoining grounds; giving to the whole somewhat the aspect of a park.

Our host met us at the gate of an inner enclosure which protects the gardens and shrubbery. He is six feet and more in height, of a portliness in full proportion, and frank, open-hearted and cordial in manner. He had been expecting us for two days, and dinner was now a third time waiting our arrival. We had heard of his facetiousness, and that his anecdotes were irresistible; and had determined before meeting him, to maintain a becoming dignity. Before the dinner was half through, however, we found all our precaution vain; and under the rehearsal of some of his personal adventures in Brazil, were obliged to give way to fits of laughter, which made the tears run down our cheeks.

November 24th.—The estate of Constantia is two miles square. Its first owner was a Swiss, who gave it the name it bears, with the intention of cultivating the grape on its hill-sides, in the hope of producing a wine that should rival that of Constantia, at the Cape of Good Hope. But his expectations in regard to the production of wine were disappointed; and an experiment with coffee succeeded no better. The soil is too cold and too poor to produce the best qualities of either; and Mr. Heath purchased the whole property for a small sum. The house and adjoining cottages are situated in the midst of flower-gardens, which indicate by their growth any thing but poverty of soil; and are fragrant with the perfume of the tuberose and heliotrope, cape jessamine and white lily, and beautiful in moss-roses and camellias, the most splendid carnations, beds of violets and mignonette, and an endless variety of choice flowers. The stems of the tuberose exhibit eighteen inches of closely-clustered blossoms, and while the white lily at home seldom produces, I believe, more than six or seven flowers on one stock, I have here counted thirteen. The vegetable gardens and fruit-yards present a like display of exuberant growth, in peas, beans, potatoes, artichokes, cabbages, beets, cauliflowers, strawberries, raspberries, limes, lemons, peaches, pears, apples, quinces and grapes. These in constant succession bring a rich return to the proprietor from the market at Rio, to which, distant as it is, troupes of mules carry cargoes as far as Piedade, twice every week.

The work of the estate is performed by slaves, of whom, including women and children, there are thirty-three on the premises. They are well-fed, well-clothed, and well-treated, and seem to be contented and happy. Their master is a humane and kind man, and intends to give to all their freedom: in earnest of which he has already manumitted several, who still continue with him, and to whom he pays regular wages. The children come round him at his call with laughter and gambols, and scramble playfully for the biscuit and cakes and the other niceties which he carries with him from the dining-hall, for the purpose of distributing among them. The gardens are under the care of females exclusively: the superintendent, of the same sex, being thoroughly skilled in the business. Every thing in that department is under her sole direction, from the turning over of the earth for planting, to the gathering of the produce, and the arrangement of it in panniers for the market.

All hands are turned out for work at daybreak; are mustered by name, and receive orders from their master at a window of his room. A custom is observed here, and I am told in all well-regulated families in Brazil, which, were it any thing more than an unmeaning form, would be interesting. It is the asking of a blessing from the master every morning and every evening at the close of the day’s work by all the slaves, of both sexes and of every age. The full form of words is the following: “I beseech your blessing, or grant me a blessing, in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!” To which the master replies, “Jesus Christ bless you for ever!” But it is the usage to epitomize these expressions by the interchange of the shortest possible abbreviations of them, and in words rather startling at first to the ear uninformed of the designed object; the slaves as they present themselves merely exclaiming, in all manner of intonations of voice and in every mood of humor—“Jesus Christ!” While the master, be he talking or laughing, eating or drinking, or in whatever way employed, without any interruption and seemingly without any regard to the import of the salutation as abruptly replies, “Siempre!” “Forever!” The effect last night was quite ludicrous, as fifteen or twenty men and women came in from labor in the fields—probably weary and hungry and impatient of any delay—and thrust their heads rapidly, one after another, into the windows and doors of the verandah as we were at the tea-table, with the above exclamation of two words only; followed instantly by the single one from the master, much in the manner of a feu de joie.

No bell, nor similar means of summoning the outdoor servants is used; but the clear, trumpet-like voice of the master is often heard far and wide, sending forth with a distinctness not to be mistaken, the names of those needed. While listening to these stentorian calls, I have been struck with the euphony and romance of many of the names, especially those of the females—Theresa and Rosa, Justina and Juliana, Januaria and Theodora: a list fit for the court calendar.

Within a few hundred yards of the houses on either side, sharp hills rise to the height of several hundred feet, partially covered on their sides and crowned on their tops with intermingled woods and cliffs. That on the south is marked in its whole length by the broad channel of a watercourse; this, at times, becomes a foaming cascade, compared with which, the artificial shoot down the hill at Chatsworth, would appear but the plaything of a child. At present the quantity of water, though flowing with great swiftness, is small, but furnishes an abundant supply for plunging-baths at the foot of the hill, and for keeping a corn-mill near by, in operation day and night. This mill is a curiosity in one respect—it is self-tending; so far, at least, as to cease working when the hopper becomes empty. The contrivance is very simple, and consists of a fixture at the bottom of the hopper, which, acting through a spring, shuts off the water from the wheel when the weight of the grain is removed.