As we ascended from the street, every step brought us in sight of some beautiful scene, generally terminated by the bay and shipping. There is something in the landscape here peculiarly agreeable. The verdure, the wood, the steep banks, and gently sloping lawns, generally opening to the sea or the lake behind the town, have a freshness and amenity that I scarcely remember seeing before. We saw but little of the upper city, but that little was handsome, in our way to the consul's. His house, like those of all the British merchants, is a little way out of town, and is in the suburb Vittoria, which occupies the greater part of a long narrow ridge extending from the town towards Sant Antonio: between it and the town is Fort Pedro, built, I think, originally of mud, by the Dutch. It was faced with stone, on the recovery of Bahia from the Dutch, about the beginning of the last century. We found the Consul and his daughter ready to receive us at their very pleasant garden-house, which literally overhangs the bay,—flowers and fruits mingle their sweets even down to the water's edge,—while
"Seaborn gales their gelid wings expand,
To winnow fragrance round the smiling land."
Eager to seize the opportunity of walking out after our voyage, we accepted Miss Pennell's kind offer, to show us some of the surrounding country before dinner, and accompanied her as far as the church dedicated to N.S. da Graça. It was the first offering of piety, I believe, to Christian worship by a native Brazilian.
When the famous Caramuru was wrecked, together with the Donatory Coutinho, on Itaparica, Coutinho was put to death; but, Caramuru, being beloved by the natives, was spared, and he returned to his old settlement of Villa Velha. His wife, Catherine Paraguaza, who had accompanied him to France, saw an apparition in the camp of the Indians, and believing it to be a real European female, Caramuru followed in the direction his wife pointed out: he discovered, accordingly, in one of the huts, an image of N.S. da Graça; and according to the directions his wife had received from the vision, built and dedicated the church, and bestowed it, and a house by it, on the Benedictines. It was at first of mud, but soon after was built of stone.
Tree in a Garden at Bahia.
Thursday, 18th.—We rode out before breakfast, through landscape so fine, that I wished for a poet or a painter at every step. Sometimes we went through thick wild wood into bushy hollows; then emerged on clear lawns, sprinkled with palm trees, through which country-houses, farms, and gardens were seen; and from every eminence, the bay, the sea, or the lake, formed part of the scene. Here and there the huge gamela tree[64] stands like a tower, adorned, besides its own leaves, with numberless parasite plants, from the stiff cactus, to the swinging air plant[65]; and the frequent tower of church and monastery soften and improve the features of the country.