Brazil and the River Plate in 1868

by William Hadfield

To estimate the resources of a country with such an enormous extent of territory as Brazil by the quantity of cotton, sugar, coffee, or other products she actually exports, or by the extent of the towns and cities on her seaboard, would be to form a very inadequate idea of what those resources are capable of becoming by means of imported labour, the extension of railways, and other transport facilities in the shape of good roads. Even with the present limited population, railways are calculated to swell enormously the amount of Brazilian productions, as they naturally lead to the opening out of other modes of intercommunication, and draw towards them subsidiary streams of traffic, which have hitherto been unable to find a vent. It is only when a railway penetrates the primeval forests, and goes into the heart of a country, that an adequate idea can be formed of what it is capable of being made, or that the state of existing cultivation can be seen under all the drawbacks arising from the want of labour, added to the difficult and expensive means of transport. This has been very clearly shown in the case of the San Paulo Railway, which, with the proposed extension to Campinas, will reach at once the great producing districts, and enable the cultivators of them to make their calculations to a nicety as to the cost of laying down their coffee or cotton at the port of Santos, and whether or not it can repay them to extend their production with the means at present under their command. The result will doubtless be a very large addition to the exports from Santos.

But to return to the Dom Pedro II. Railway. On the day previous to my leaving Rio, I had made the acquaintance, through the introduction of a friend at home, of Dr. Gunning, who, I found to my surprise, lived some fifty miles up the line, and he very kindly invited me to remain the night with them, instead of going on direct to Entre Rios. Accordingly at noon the next day, (the 4th April), we started by a train that only runs at that hour on Saturday, the ordinary ones being at 5 a.m., which involves getting up in the middle of the night to those who are any distance from the station. The train was a very full one, and I had to be content with a seat on my own portmanteau at the beginning of my journey, the carriage being open, and built in the American style, with sofas and chairs round the sides. The station is large and commodious, with plenty of sheds and warehouses for receiving produce. The pace was pretty good; the train passing the suburbs of the city, then the abatoirs, where cattle are slaughtered, with hundreds of the large black vultures hovering about; afterwards going through the Emperor's grounds and not far from his palace. Many fine country houses are near the line, which become fewer in number until we reach the first station called Sapepomba, at a short distance from which is a fine estate belonging; to the Baron de Mauá, whose name is a household word in Brazil. This estate is worked by an American, who married an adopted daughter of the Baron, and has now a very large tract of sugar cane under cultivation. It presents in other respects all the evidence of good management. The public road runs close to the station. We proceed through lowlands, with cattle grazing on some of them, until we reached the station of Machabamba, in the neighbourhood of which the Baron de Bomfim has also a large sugar estate as well as ground for grazing cattle. At this station, as at most others, were so-called hotels, where eating and drinking is carried on much after the fashion in other countries, and a number of passengers got out apparently to spend the Sunday in the country.

After traversing some fine open country, bounded by mountains on all sides, we crossed what is called the dismal swamp, where so many people lost their lives during the construction of the line; this part of the line reminded one of the swamps about which so much has been written in connection with the Panama Railway. The next station we came to was that of Belem, an important place at the foot of the great mountain rise. I may perhaps observe that many plots of land, after we left the suburbs of Rio, were cultivated with mandioca, the great staple article of food in this country, and doubtless much of what is now a waste will soon be brought into requisition for the production of this commodity. At Belem there was a good display of refreshment, substantial and light creature comforts evidently being appreciated by the Brazilians; oranges, figs, and sweets of various kinds were brought also to the carriage doors. Here we exchanged the ordinary English locomotive for one of the powerful American description, calculated to mount the hills, which we began to ascend immediately after leaving Belem station, and here commences the really interesting feature of the works. The American “horse,” as it is termed, began snorting, the whistle making a frightfully loud noise,—a sort of steam gong, which can be heard at a very great distance. The train now twists and turns round the sharp curves, the scenery becomes grand and imposing as we go up, and at one point, after proceeding eight or ten miles through a succession of tunnels and embankments, a stone could be thrown across the ridge to the place we left. The views of the valleys, with the spurs of the hills planted with coffee and Indian corn, are very pretty, and one is called Paraiso, or paradise, though I think that title might be much more appropriately applied to the valley opposite Dr. Gunning's house, which is called the Valley of Monkeys, I suppose because many exist in the woods there. The elevation attained on reaching Dr. Gunning's station was upwards of 1,300 feet, in about 2½ hours from Rio, and here I was persuaded to rest over Sunday, resuming my journey by rail on Monday morning.

Dr. Gunning's little colony, for it quite amounts to that, took me quite by surprise, as I was utterly ignorant of its existence. As I said before, the valley which it overlooks might justly be termed that of Paraiso, instead of the other we passed in ascending the mountains. It takes a range of some 20 to 30 miles, with a series of hills or spurs rising from it, backed by the mountains which tower over Rio de Janeiro. The house is built on the foreground, with an extensive balcony in front, where you sit in a rocking chair in a state of quiet ecstacy and wonder how such an enchanting spot can be so little known in a great city comparatively so near to it. From the balcony you can see the trains moving upwards, popping now and again into the numerous tunnels, there being no less than thirteen between the house and the foot of the mountain and sixteen or seventeen over the whole line. The Doctor has constructed two or three neat cottages on his land, and there is also within hail a charming one erected by Mr. Gotto when he was out here as Engineer of the Rio Improvements Company. It is situated at a point which also commands a fine view of the noble valley, and is at present occupied by an American merchant. The Doctor is about to build other cottages on his land, and is laying out the site for a hotel, which ought to be very attractive to Rio residents in search of fresh air and renovated health. It is difficult to conceive a more lovely situation, or one surrounded by more attractive scenery. Before dinner we took a walk in the fine shady woods below the house, and at night enjoyed the effect of a splendid moon from a balcony where the scene in Romeo and Julliet might be admirably enacted, a place of all others adapted for the interchange of “lovers' vows.” We were, however, a very sober-minded, but pleasant party, and enjoyed ourselves with “sweethearts and wives” over a glass of toddy. On Sunday morning I rose early to look at one of the greatest natural curiosities it is possible to conceive. A light vapoury mist, “white as the driven snow,” covered the entire valley; with here and there the tops of hills appearing like islands in a sea; indeed, one could hardly believe that what one saw was simply mist, and not something more tangible and substantial. This gradually disappeared as the sun topped the heights, and then all became bright and verdant as on the previous day. Residents in the valley feel wrapt in a kind of shroud whilst the mist is over them, but no evil effects appear to result from it. An American missionary, Mr. Blackford, who was for some time stationed at the city of San Paulo, and was, with his wife, a guest of Dr. Gunning, read a portion of the Church Service in Portuguese and preached a sermon in the same language to the household and a number of people employed about the place, after which we wandered about, dined, and enjoyed another quiet moonlight evening looking over the happy valley. There is quite a little society of Americans residing about here, which renders it anything but a solitude.

I left this hospitable retreat on Monday, by the train which passes at 8 a.m., and continued to find a series of wonderful curves and tunnels until we reached the station of Barra, where a good comfortable breakfast was waiting for such passengers as chose to avail of it.

I was joined by the son of Mr. Ellison, head engineer of the line, who is making a branch near Disengano station, in the direction of San Paulo, with which it is eventually intended to connect this province. He made himself very agreeable, and gave me much valuable information.

I should not omit to allude to the really beautiful scenery passed through between Entre Rios and Barra, where the passengers breakfasted. I walked to look at a very handsome bridge erected over the River Parahyba, which becomes here a considerable stream, running the whole distance to Entre Rios, where it meets the Parahybuna, which comes down from Minas Geraes, the latter emptying itself into the sea at San Joao de Barra, after passing the important town of Campos.

The railway, which is here 122 miles in length from Rio de Janeiro, is to be extended to another point on the Parahyba called Porto da Cunha, making a total distance of about 160 miles, the latter portion tapping valuable sources of traffic, as the river is only navigable a short way from its mouth. Besides its 16 tunnels, small and great, the railway is crossed by several handsome bridges, first to one bank of the river and then the other, as the gradients were found favourable, and there is one very fine station, called Disengano, a portion of the cost of which was contributed by the Marqueza de Bependi, who has a magnificent fazenda near to it, and numerous large picturesque fazendas are seen at different bends of the river, which rolls along in its rocky bed, with a succession of small rapids, the hills above it being covered with coffee, Indian corn, and mandioca, all now ripe. Where this cultivation does not exist either virgin forests or cattle grazing form the variety, and the former still occupy a large portion of the country we passed through, particularly between Uba station and that of Parahyba do Sul. I am told that Vassoura, a city about seven miles from the station of that name, is prettily situated and interesting, but of course it is impossible to see everything in so extraordinary a range of country.

We reached Entre Rios station before noon, and found the stage coach waiting; also a tolerable dinner, which the flies tried to participate in, being only held in check by boys with large feather fans. The place, I believe, is infested by flies from the number of mules kept there; but the company is improving and extending the accommodation for passengers, the head station being 800 feet in length. The guard of the “Mazeppa” summons the passengers, and away we started with four good mules, amidst dust and bustle, by a regular stage coach of the old English type, the first stage being along the banks of the Rio Preto, coming down from the mines. The road was all that had been described to me and more; a perfectly good, smooth, macadamised one, fenced in with groups of bamboo on the river side and aloes on the other, along which we drove at the rate of nine to ten miles an hour. I was inside at starting, but some passengers left at the second station, Parahybuna, when I mounted on the front seat for the remainder of the journey, and enjoyed as fine a ride, for good travelling and good scenery, as it is possible to conceive.

The road belongs to a Brazilian company called the “Uniao e Industria,” started some few years back, and now carrying on a large and profitable traffic, chiefly in merchandise; but the stage coaches are a very important feature as regards accommodation for the public. The stations where they change mules are large and commodious, with warehouses for receiving produce, and that of Parahybuna is in a most picturesque situation, a huge granite mountain on one side and in front of the river, which rushes down over rocks, forming cascades here and there, with a long bridge which we had to cross. A good many dwelling houses are built about these stations, belonging, I conclude, to people connected with the road. Our next station was Simon Pereira, about which there is a good deal of woodland scenery, reminding one of parts of Wales, with the road winding in and out round the hills; and on this stage is a very fine fazenda known by the name of Solidade, the property of the Baron Bertiago, comprising, I am told, an immense district. Here we again come upon the mountain stream, which runs through the valley, always forming a rapid current as we keep ascending.