Mr. and Mrs. Graham and their children stayed, whilst at Macao, at the Grand Hotel, which was situated on the Parade, where was also a very pretty jetty, on which Sybil and Leonard liked very much to walk. Here, again, the houses were painted. In a pretty street close by the Grand Parade, protected on both sides by walls, the Grahams were shown houses whose windows used to have barriers of iron. These houses, they were told, were a kind of prison, called Emigration Agencies, but where in reality poor coolies were kept for sale. This traffic had, happily, now been done away with.
Some of the houses in Macao seemed to be painted all colours, and many of the windows were bordered with red, the favourite colour. Most of the houses could boast of large rooms. Not very much commerce seemed to be carried on here. Leonard was one day taken to pay the European troops a visit in their garrison.
At four o'clock in the afternoon many people walked upon the Parade. Most of the Christians here were Roman Catholics, which was natural, considering that the place belonged to the Portuguese. Bells, calling people to church, rang two or three times a day, and these, and the bugle-call from the garrison, were the principal sounds heard. It was interesting to visit Macao, because here, in its quiet prettiness, the poet Camoens, when banished, spent some of his lonely years, and wrote a great part of his epic poem "Lusiad;" and here also a French painter, named Chinnery, had produced some of his pretty paintings and sketches. Sybil was old enough to care about such things, and to find both pleasure and interest in visiting any places once made memorable by the footprints left there of either good or great men; and when she had heard the poet's story, she was very sorry for him!
MACAO.
Camoens, who was the epic poet of Portugal, was born in Lisbon in 1524. An epic poet is one who writes narratives, or stories, which often relate heroic deeds. When banished by royal authority to Santarem, Camoens joined the expedition of John III. against Morocco, and lost his right eye in an engagement with the Moors in the Straits of Gibraltar. People in Lisbon, who would not admire his poetry, now thought nothing of his bravery. Sad and disappointed, he went to India in 1553; but being offended by what he saw the Portuguese authorities doing in India, he wrote a satire about them, called "Follies in India," and made fun of the Viceroy. For doing this, he was banished to Macao in 1556, where he lived for six years, writing "The Lusiad." On being recalled, he was shipwrecked, and lost everything that he had in the world but this epic poem, which he held in one hand above the waves, while he swam to shore with the other; and after suffering many misfortunes, he arrived in Lisbon in 1569, possessed of nothing else. He dedicated his poem to the young king Sebastian, who allowed him to stay at the court, and gave him a pension. But when Sebastian died he had nothing at all, and a faithful Indian servant begged for him in the streets. At last he died in the hospital at Lisbon, in 1579. Sixteen years later Camoens was appreciated, and people hunted for his grave, to erect a monument to his memory, but had much difficulty even in finding it.
The "Lusiad" celebrates the chief events in Portugal's history, and has been called "a gallery of epic pictures, in which all the great achievements of Portuguese heroism are represented." The poem has been translated into English, French, Italian, Spanish, German, and Polish.
After a short, but pleasant, stay at Macao, the Grahams went on to Canton.
"The last place but one," Sybil could not help whispering to Leonard on board. "When we next arrive—" she went on, but tears starting into her eyes seemed to drown the rest of the sentence. However, as some very happy weeks had yet to be passed at Canton, neither she nor we must anticipate. A long visit of two months was to be spent here at the residence of a personal friend of Mr. Graham, the English consul of the place.
A servant was stationed on the steps leading round to the Consulate, or Yamen, to await the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Graham and their children.