Brazil today and tomorrow

by L. E. Elliott Joyce

II. Rail

Initiative in railway construction in Brazil is credited to a clever priest who acted as Regent during part of the minority of Pedro II. In October, 1835, Padre Feijó presented a bill to the Legislative Assembly in Rio de Janeiro advocating the creation of a railway system; amongst other suggestions his scheme included a limitation of rates for freight and passengers—the former to a maximum of twenty reis for each arroba carried a league, and ninety reis for each passenger carried a like distance. Nothing was done for seventeen years, and then in June, 1852, the Brazilian Government sanctioned a concession for a railroad to link the port of Pernambuco to a point upon the river S. Francisco, above the falls which blocked the way of boats traversing the busy interior river highway. This road was never built. In 1853, another concession was granted for a line to reach the river from the more southerly port of Bahia: this plan was carried out and the road opened to traffic (Bahia to Joazeiro) in the year 1860, but before that day three other railways had been built and brought into operation.

The first of all railways to operate in Brazil was the Emperor’s road running from the outskirts of Rio city across level ground to the foot of the Serra: it was opened in 1854. This, and the subsequent mountain climbing section extending from the Raiz da Serra to the Alto da Serra, are part of the important system of lines owned and operated by one of the big English companies, the Leopoldina: I refer in detail to this series and its development work on another page. A short strip, now part of the (English) Great Western of Brazil Railway, running on level country from the city of Pernambuco was opened in 1857, and a line from Rio de Janeiro to Queimados, a distance of sixty kilometers, was opened to traffic by Dom Pedro in the year 1858: it forms part of the valuable series of penetrating lines owned and operated by the Federal Government today.

Before 1870 the most important producing states, the seaboard territories with surplus sugar, coffee, tobacco, cacao and cotton had been furnished with strips of line penetrating limited areas of the interior. In the north engineering problems were easier, for the frowning wall of the Serra do Mar melts away in South Bahia, but it was in the temperate zones of the more southerly regions that transportation was urgently demanded to serve the needs of the rapidly expanding coffee regions; São Paulo was feverishly planting all over her best red lands, and the only outlet for the crop was the steep mountain road to Santos. An English company took up the work of building a railroad, completed it after surmounting a series of difficulties and opened it to traffic in 1867. It is a triumph of engineering, and has never had a competitor; from S. Paulo city itself a fan of railway lines branches out in every direction except seawards, and while other great centres of rail networks in Brazil originate at the sea edge, here in S. Paulo the point of departure is from the plateau above the hill barrier. The São Paulo-to-Santos line is world famous: it is the channel through which the bulk of the coffee of the whole world is carried, and is for its length one of the notable money earners of the railroad world. The road crosses the coastal swamps following the old Jesuit road as far as Cubatão, and thence climbs the granite wall of the Serra on one of the steepest grades known in railway construction, rising two thousand five hundred feet within a distance of ten kilometers. It is a joy to ride over this line, with its magnificent equipment, minute neatness, drainage system of the mountain sides involving a remarkable series of cemented channels—the very rocks beside the track are tarred to preserve them from decay, and the sides of the hills are built up with elaborate care unparalleled in railway work; the company’s power-houses, cottages for employees, and stations along the route, with the fine terminal in Santos and the beautiful “Estação da Luz” in S. Paulo, are models. Once upon a time, it is said, an American railroad man was shown over this line and asked if he could suggest any improvements. “Not unless the ends of the ties could be carved or the rails set with diamonds,” replied the visitor.

Upkeep of the line is costly, soil and climate working against durability of any human effort; the climb up the steep Serra, electrically operated by rope haulage on the “endless rope” system, requires incessant watchfulness, as does the condition of the several tunnels blasted through the heart of the mountains. There is no better way to appreciate both the engineering problems and the superb beauty of the green Serra with its abrupt peaks and deep valleys than to ride on the brake of a train making the descent to Santos.

The distance between Santos and S. Paulo is about seventy-nine kilometers, but the company owns branches, and there is a duplication of the track, the result of reconstruction and the choice of a new route for the Serra ascent in 1901, which brings the total length of line owned to one hundred and fifty-three kilometers; the old track may be seen below the new one on the hillside, and is being electrified with a view to renewed activity as a freight carrier. The enormous volume of Paulista coffee seeking an outlet by the line—17 million bags in 1915–16—is a strain upon capacity in the busy season; the exports of S. Paulo are also developing in a new direction with the entry of Brazil into world markets with chilled beef, and refrigerator cars are monthly increasing in traffic over the road.

The capital of the company, whose headquarters are in London, is six million pounds sterling, and up to the year of war in Europe a dividend of fourteen per cent was regularly paid: in 1914 twelve per cent was paid, and in 1915 there was another drop to ten per cent, chiefly consequent upon the fall in Brazilian currency which caused heavy losses when earnings counted in milreis were turned into sterling for remittance to Europe. Lowered exchange has caused serious embarrassment to most companies operating in Latin America with foreign capital, especially the transportation companies whose rates are fixed, and it was loss on this account rather than reduced business which brought gloom into railway and street-car circles in 1915.

The São Paulo Railway.
Operates between São Paulo City and the port of Santos, and is the great coffee-carrying line. Above, Estação da Luz, S. Paulo City. Below, part of track traversing the steep Serra do Mar, showing tunnels blasted through granite.

There are three railways which climb the mountain wall of South Brazil: the first was the São Paulo line, and the second the Petropolis link, built on the rack system; some wonderful views are passed on the two-hour journey. The third mountain climbing line connects the port of Paranaguá to Curityba, in the State of Paraná, some three hundred miles south of Santos. The construction of this line was as remarkable a feat as that of the São Paulo railway, and is even more spectacular; it was only completed after the first daring attempt had failed, and today the line hangs breathlessly on the sides of mountain precipices, traverses canyons on apparently frail bridges, and plunges into tunnels blasted through granite. The Serra is extremely steep in the region traversed by the railroad and the scenery is quite the most wild and beautiful of the Brazilian mountain barrier. The line is the outlet for the products of the mills of industrious Curityba, and from here the herva matte of the interior woods of Paraná is sent to Paranaguá and thence by boat to its chief destination, Argentina. Paraná and the neighbouring forests comprise almost the sole source of supply of matte leaves, and thus the mountain line has a practical monopoly in the transportation of this wild product; if recent Argentine plans for planting the shrub are successful a heavy blow would probably be dealt to this industry.