The assemblage of persons was very considerable; indeed wherever the surf is not violent the sea-shore is well-peopled, along the whole extent of coast between Olinda and the bar of the river Goiana; in many parts the low straw huts are united, or nearly so, in long rows for half a mile together. White-washed cottages with tiled roofs are frequently interspersed; churches and chapels have been built, and few intervals of much extent remain unpeopled. The lands are planted with the coco-trees, which is the most profitable plant of Brazil[90]; the coco-tree appears to be adapted to the sandy soil of the coast, upon which only very few others will vegetate; here it flourishes and seems to derive nourishment from its vicinity to the sea, but when it is situated in rich land the coco-tree droops, and even upon the sandy plains of the interior, it does not bear its fruit with the same luxuriance, or reach that height, which it attains when exposed to the sea breeze. These coco groves through which the eye can reach for miles, with the hovels composed entirely of the leaves of these trees spread among them, form in some parts very picturesque views; and if, as frequently occurs, the cottage is situated upon the border of a wood, just where the cocos end, and the dark green foliage of the forest trees is seen behind, then the view is even romantic; and if the wind is high, the rustling of the coco-trees, and the dashing of the waves, increases much the wildness of the scene.
However to return. As soon as the church service was ended we mounted our horses, and rode back to Our Lady of the O. We alighted at a cottage which stood near to the church, the inhabitants of which were acquainted with some of our party; the moon was bright and the breeze moderate. We sat down upon mats before the door, and were regaled with quantities of young coco nuts, a most delightful fruit when they are in this state. Some of us walked down towards the beach; the tide was out, and I observed several large blocks of hewn stone, partly buried in the sand below high water mark. I enquired what had caused them to be there, and was answered, that a church had formerly stood upon that spot; and I heard then, and afterwards often saw, that the sea was making considerable encroachments along the coast, to the distance of half a league or more each way. The new church of Our Lady of the O. was now building, at the distance of about three hundred yards from the shore. Strange tales are told of the miraculous deeds of this lady. When the church was about to be rebuilt, many of the landholders of the neighbourhood were desirous of having the edifice upon their ground; this proceeded from a religious feeling. Lots were drawn to determine upon the site of the new church, and although manifestly inconvenient, from many causes, it has been erected upon the spot where it now stands, because the same lot was drawn three times. A very great objection, and one which in common cases would have been insurmountable, is that this is the lowest piece of land in the neighbourhood, and is opposite to the place upon which the sea is making the most rapid advances. Water too, for mixing the lime and sand, must have been conveyed from a considerable distance; but a spring of it gushed forth at the moment that one of the labourers was making preparations for the commencement of his work, and since the capella-mor, or principal chapel, has been built, all kinds of diseases are said to be cured. The fame of this most powerful lady has reached far and wide, and from the interior to the distance of 150 leagues, persons who were afflicted with disorders which had been considered incurable by human means, have come down to make their offerings to this avaritious personage, whose powerful intercession is not to be obtained unless she is in return well paid for her trouble.[91]
As the road from the Sertam to the sea-shore was by Jaguaribe, I saw many of the travellers; I conversed with many wealthy persons, whose sole errand was to offer part of their possessions, upon condition of relief from the malady under which they suffered. The patrimony of this church is now considerable, from the numerous donations which have been made; some of these have been advanced on credit, the donors being fully confident of repayment in the manner which they desire; others have been made, owing to the persons who gave them having been really cured;—faith has done what medicine could not do. Such has been the reliance upon the efficacy of the prayers which were offered up, and upon the power of the Lady, that the probability of disappointment has never occurred to them; and when the disorder proceeds more from the imagination than from the body, I should suppose that a cure may be effected, much in the same manner that in other countries cures are said to be performed by medicinal waters; of which, although the qualities may be very excellent, yet the name may surpass the reality, in bringing about the desired end. The miracles of Our Lady of the O. are performed in three ways—by prayer from the patient,—by drinking the water of the spring or by application of some of it to the part affected—and by eating or outwardly applying, a small quantity of the salt which oozes from the wall against which the High Altar stands[92]. A village has risen up around the church, composed of huts for the sick, who have journeyed far from other districts. The business has completely succeeded, the money which was required for rebuilding the church has been obtained, and when I came away the concern was going on prosperously. I heard the remark made by some firm believers, that such was the sinfulness of the inhabitants of the vicinity, that the Lady had scarcely vouchsafed to perform any cures upon them. The wonderful stories of cures were always of persons who lived in remote districts; but I did meet with a few cases in which fancied illness from lowness of spirits was removed. The general credulity of the lower orders of people, and even of many individuals of the higher ranks, is beyond all belief; no persuasion, no reasoning is of any service; even a doubt of the truth of every story which is told is not admitted[93].
From hence we proceeded to pay another visit. The owner of this cottage had no cocos to offer, but he would have dressed some fish, and he gave us some wild fruits. The sail of a jangada was extended for us, and we laid down for some time to converse. At a late hour we set off homewards, and from carelessness lost our way; we wandered through the paths of the woods of Mamanguape, until we judged (rightly, as it happened) that we were in the road which would lead us to Jaguaribe. There was much merriment notwithstanding the disaster, for we knew that day-light would end our difficulties, and it was now past two o’clock.
The mill was continually at work; I usually took the first watch, and superintending the business until midnight; several of my neighbours and their families came to amuse themselves in conversation, and others came for the purpose of eating sugar-cane, of which every one who has tasted must be fond.
About this time a female slave died in child-bed who was generally regretted. She was a good servant, and an excellent wife and mother. The grief of her husband bore much the appearance of insanity; he would not eat until the following day, and then he only tasted food from the persuasion of one of his children. Until the time of my departure from Pernambuco, he had not recovered his former spirits, and he never spoke of his wife without tears in his eyes. Even some of the other slaves were, for a few days after her death, unsettled; the rude instruments, upon which they were in the habit of playing in the evening at their doors, were laid aside;—all merriment was discontinued for some time.
I was requested about this period to be bride’s-man at the marriage of a mulatto couple. I agreed, and on the day appointed, set forth for Paratibi, accompanied by a free servant and a slave on horseback. I arrived about ten o’clock, and found a large party of people of colour assembled; the priest soon arrived, and he too was of the same cast. Breakfast of meat and piram (a paste made of farinha) was placed upon the table; some part of the company sat down and ate, others stood, doing the same, and others again, as if they were afraid of losing a minute’s conversation, continued to talk loudly, and without ceasing. I have witnessed few such scenes of confusion. At last we proceeded to the church, to which I begged to be permitted to ride, for the distance was considerable, and I was somewhat lame from an accident; as soon as the ceremony was over, we returned to the house. The bride was of a dark brown colour, for her father was a negro, and her mother of mixed blood; she was dressed in a rose-coloured silk gown, and a black veil was thrown over her head and shoulders; she wore white shoes and white stockings with open clocks. The bridegroom was also of dark colour; he wore a coat of brown cloth, a waistcoat of brocaded silk, and nankeen pantaloons; he had on shoes with large buckles, and a cocked hat. Both of these persons were young, and they seemed to be dreadfully hampered with the increased stock of apparel which they carried. The scene at dinner was a counterpart of the breakfast affair, with the addition of more noise and more confusion, which were caused by a larger assemblage of people, and more plentiful draughts of wine and rum. I escaped as soon as possible; but would not on any account have missed being present at this day’s work.
On the night of Christmas eve, I did not go to bed; for we were to hear the Missa do Gallo, or cock mass, as is customary. The priest arrived, and the night was spent merrily. This person did not at that time come regularly as a chaplain, but he was so engaged afterwards.