CHAPTER XII
HISTORICAL SKETCH
Though this volume does not profess to be in any sense a guide-book to the Island of Madeira, yet it seems as though even those visitors to the island, who may only wish to study its flora and sylva, will more fully appreciate their wanderings by learning something of its history.
Very little is known of the early history of Madeira. Though some historians assert that even the early Phœnicians found their way there during some of their adventurous voyages, there seems to be little foundation for such assertions. Others at a later date claim for Madeira the honour of being Pliny’s Purpuria, or Purple Land, an honour to which the Canaries also lay claim, though it seems probable that Madeira has more right to the distinction, as Humboldt gave new life to the theory by describing in glowing terms the beauties of its hazy mountains, shrouded in purple and violet clouds. A less romantic reason for the name of Purple Land is also given, and merely relates to the fact that King Juba in the days of Pliny contemplated the possibility of extracting a purple dye, called “gætulian purple,” from the juice of one of the numerous trees or plants which grew on the island. This theory is supported by its upholders by the fact that Ptolemy mentions an island in this part of the Atlantic Ocean called Erythea, or Red Island, which again may possibly have reference to the dye. After these early days there is no trace of the island in history for hundreds of years, so it is more than problematical as to whether the Purple Lands had any connection with Madeira.
There seems to be no end to the number of legends and vague theories as to the discovery of the group of islands. An Arab historian relates the discovery of an island (possibly Madeira) by an expedition of his people in the eleventh century, who gave it the name of El Ghanam. These travellers, known as the “Almagrarin adventurers,” set sail from Lisbon with the intention of discovering something. Their name, meaning the “finders of mares’ nests,” is suggestive of fabulous tales. After being driven across unknown seas they came to a district of “stinking and turbid waters,” which at first frightened them back; and it is suggested that, as the soil of Madeira shows traces of volcanic disturbances—as, indeed, does the whole formation of the island—these disturbed waters might well have been in its neighbourhood.
In the fourteenth century both the French and Spaniards claim to have touched at the islands; but if such were the case, it seems unlikely that their discovery would have been relegated to oblivion, though in the Medici map in Florence the group of islands now known as Porto Santo, Madeira, and the Desertas appear, under the names of “Porto Sto,” “Ila Legname,” and “I. Deserta.” If these names were inserted when the chart was made (A.D. 1351), the Genoese might claim to have been the true discoverers; but as the names are merely Italian translations of the Portuguese, it is more likely that they were added after their present owners had taken possession of them.
It is through the medium of another legend, as some still call the romantic story of Machim and his lady-love, Anna Arget, or Harbord, that we appear to arrive at the true history of the discovery of Madeira. The story, though it is more suggestive of fabulous romance than history, has been accepted as being the medium of the tales of the unsurpassed beauty of the island coming to the ears of the enterprising Portuguese navigator Joao Gonsalvez Zargo. The tale relates how one Robert à Machin, in the reign of Edward III., fell in love with a beautiful young lady of noble family named Anna d’Arget. Being endowed with great wealth as well as beauty, her parents destined her for a greater match, which was accordingly arranged. Though the lady returned her young lover’s affection, she was compelled, in an age when the daughters of a great house had little voice in the choice of their husbands, to marry the nobleman chosen by her parents. In order to insure that their plans should not be frustrated, the lady’s parents went so far as to arrange that her lover Robert should be imprisoned until after the marriage. When he was liberated he heard from a friend of the fate of his lady-love, and lost no time in following her to her new home and arranging for their elopement. This took place by sea, the adventurous couple embarking at Bristol, hoping to make the coast of France. Contrary winds arose, and we are told that, after enduring great perils and hardships for thirteen days, Robert and Anna, accompanied by a few faithful followers, came to “a pleasant but uninhabited land, diversified by hills and vales, intersected by clear rivulets, and shaded with pine-trees.”
Dr. Gaspar Fructuoso, in his work entitled “As Saudades da Terra,” written in 1590, tells of the lovers’ great joy when, “on the morning of the fourteenth day, when they had been hourly expecting destruction, and were in a hopeless and exhausted condition, they saw a dark object before them, which they imagined might be land, and when the sun rose they perceived that their surmises were correct and their hopes fulfilled. As they drew near, they saw that the mountains rose, as it were, almost directly from the water’s edge in many places. The almost perpendicular cliffs seemed to preclude any landing, except where the grand ravines opened right down to the sea. It was into one of these openings of enchanting loveliness that Machim directed his vessel to be steered, and, casting anchor, a boat was most eagerly launched. Machim and some companions hurried on shore, and they soon returned with such an encouraging account that he took his beloved Anna from off the vessel where such terrible and anxious days had been passed, and landed on a shore where he hoped he should, with such comforts as still remained to him, procure for her, for a time at least, some repose, refreshment, and security.”
For some time the party devoted their time to exploring their immediate surroundings, in a land which appeared to them a haven of rest and of surpassing loveliness. They penetrated into forests of great extent, to points on the mountain-tops from whence a succession of wooded ravines and steep mountain-sides, clothed with a luxuriant and ever-verdant vegetation, delighted their eyes; the mountain streams giving life to a scene where, except only for the songs of countless birds and the hum of insect life, all was still. No four-legged animals or reptiles were to be seen. Fruits in abundance seemed as if awaiting them, and in the crannies of the rocks they found honey possessing the odour of violets. An opening in the extensive woods, which was encircled by laurels and flowering shrubs, presented an inviting retreat, and a tree of dense shade, the probable growth of ages, offered a verdant canopy of impenetrable foliage. In this spot they determined to form a residence from the abundant materials with which Nature supplied them. This state of innocent happiness was not destined to last long, as, though apparently serenely contented with their surroundings as long as the vessel anchored close at hand suggested a possible retreat and return to the outer world, disaster befell them, for one night a storm arose and their ship was driven out to sea. This calamity so greatly distressed the fair lady that she became completely prostrated by the shock, and in a few days she died in her lover’s arms. Machim, in his turn, died of grief a few days after, having spent the intervening time in erecting a memorial to his much-loved Anna. The dying man dictated an inscription recording their sad story, concluding with a request that if any Christians should at any future time form a settlement in that island, they would erect a church over their graves and dedicate it to the Redeemer of Mankind, a request which, it will be seen, was afterwards carried out, when “Machim’s tree” was supposed to have furnished sufficient material for the building of the whole chapel.