Where simply to feel that we breathe, that we live,
Is worth the best joy that life elsewhere can give.
The glow of the sunshine, the balm of the air,
Would steal to our hearts, and make all summer there.
Our life should resemble a long day of light,
And our death come on, holy and calm as the night.—Moore.
Ocean sailing, perhaps, does not present anything more delightful than the trip from Lisbon to this island in fine or moderate weather. We soon bade adieu to the Tagus, with its merry-going windmills, and its palaces and churches, the bold dome of the Coraçao de Jesus being the last visible in the horizon as we steamed away; and, on the second morning at daylight, made the Island of Porto Santo, which looks bleak and dreary enough, but has the repute of having some verdant spots upon it; and a small harbour called by the same name. Madeira, some 35 miles distant, was in sight a-head, its mountains peeping out of the clouds; and a couple of hours brought us up to the south side, along which we steamed. The hills were covered with innumerable cottages, and huts built amongst the vine plantations, which rise in ridges, nearly from the water’s edge to the height of 2,000 feet; the best vine growths, no doubt, being found at about half that elevation. It is needless to say that the coup d’œil so presented is as charming as it is singular. Immediately after passing Brazen Head, the Bay of Funchal opened before us, and a more beautiful sight cannot well be conceived, the hills towering to a considerable altitude, dotted a long way up with pretty-looking villas and well cultivated gardens, until, reaching the town, these become merged in its compact mass. Funchal, which contains a population of some 20,000 inhabitants, bears the usual Portuguese characteristics of white or fancifully-coloured houses, many being lofty, with look-outs to the sea, forts, churches, &c. The Loo Rock, commanding the entrance of the bay, is very remarkable, being quite separated from the main land, which it there protects from the roll of the sea. Here we found lying in the roads, amongst other vessels, two American men-of-war, just come over from the African station to refresh, as well as the Severn steamer, coaling on her way from the Brazils to Lisbon and England. This opportunity enabled us to send home dispatches forthwith. An assemblage of those peculiarly strong-built boats, with double keels to protect them from being stove in by the tremendous swell that sets in-shore so frequently, soon came to us with offers of service, chiefly in the shape of miscellaneous matters for sale; and we found ourselves amongst a pushing, energetic race, anxious to trade and make money, with an earnestness that was quite refreshing. Many spoke tolerably good English, and showed evident signs of being accustomed to deal with our countrymen. Landing on the beach is sometimes a formidable operation here; but the boats, as we have said, are well adapted for all emergencies incident to the operation, whether performed by those in robust health, or, as is too frequently the case, by invalids, in almost the last stage preceding dissolution. The boatmen are very active and obliging on such occasions, and considerate to a degree that would be perfectly incredible to a Thames wherry-man at Gravesend. We were immediately beset by a crowd of applicants for favours in one shape or another, amongst whom were not a few beggars, although I believe they are prohibited from soliciting alms, and a very good institution exists for the helpless and houseless. Some of our passengers, with the precipitancy of English in all such matters the moment a foreign shore is reached, proceeded to test the vehicular conveniences of the island, by a drive in one of those extraordinary bovine sledges drawn by two bullocks, and which travel up the hills at a pace sufficiently surprising, considering the apparently sluggish conformation of the steeds.
I took a ramble over the town, and made sundry diplomatic calls; afterwards proceeding [aloft, as may be literally said,] to enjoy the hospitality of Mr. Blandy, who occupies a charming country seat about a mile up the hill, where there is a splendid view of the town and bay, as well as of the towering mountains above. One of the sleighs or sledges, just mentioned, carried us along a succession of steep hills very quickly, a mode of conveyance which, notwithstanding its primeval fashion, appears to be of recent date here. This char rustique of the mountains resembles, as nearly as possible, one of our turn-abouts at a fair, with two seats opposite to each other; but the most curious uses to which this odd contrivance is put, is in coursing down-hill by express train, as they call it. Two persons seat themselves side-by-side in the sledge, and an equal number of boys, holding a strap attached to it, commence running down the steep declivities at a pace that must be felt to be understood; but an idea of it may be formed by those who remember the Vauxhall illustration of centrifugal force, some years ago, when an unhappy monkey was placed in a carriage and shot down an inclined plain, at the bottom whereof was a huge wheel, over and around which the traveller and his vehicle were propelled, and brought to a stand-still after attaining a level on the other side. The Madeira roads are paved with sharp stones set very close together; so the machine glides downwards without meeting with any resistance, and, in ten minutes, descends a distance that takes half an hour or more to mount on horseback. It was the most curious sensation I ever felt; and, though assured of its safety, one cannot make the experiment for the first time without thoughts of an upset running in one’s head, contact between which and the stones would not have been very agreeable. Mountainous countries are doubtless favourable to the promotion of personal activity; and certainly the way in which the natives go up and down the steep paths here, with burthens on their backs, especially in such a climate, is something remarkable.
It is no wonder that the English are fond of Madeira, but a very great wonder that far larger numbers do not resort thither, to pass the winter months, with the numerous facilities of steam navigation now presented to them. The climate, the total change of people and scenery, the teeming vegetation, yielding the produce both of Europe and the tropics, the picturesque disposal of the houses on the very ridges of the hills, with every regard to comfort and even luxury, all combine to render this a kind of earthly paradise, to which the seeming rhapsody at the head of our chapter is really only literally applicable. Here indeed nature showers down her choicest bounties: no fogs, miasmas, or even hurtful dews; atmosphere almost always translucent and bright; the thermometer in winter scarcely ever falling below 60 degrees; and where, during the hot summer months, a cool and comfortable retreat, of almost any temperature, may be found up the mountains. Lastly, there are no poisonous reptiles, merely a brown lizard, harmless to everything save the vines; frogs are quite a recent importation; and so far as I could learn, there are none of that numerous tribe of annoying insects which infest the tropical regions, only the familiar household flea, that makes himself at home everywhere.
Unfortunately, the dependence of the population and the staple of Madeira has been its vines, whose produce this year, as well as last, has totally failed, from some cause almost as inscrutable, or at least as incurable, and in its consequences nearly as calamitous, on a small scale, as the potato rot in isles nearer home. I could not have believed without seeing it:—in every direction the grapes were withered up like parched peas, and, in many cases, the trees themselves dying. Such an extraordinary visitation has, I believe, never been known here before. It partakes very much of the same virulent character as the diseases that at times affect the cereal world, and something of the kind was experienced with terrible severity in the Canaries in 1704. Two years’ failure of a vintage, in an island like Madeira, would be almost annihilation, if it were not for its other boundless vegetable resources; and, as in the case of the destruction of the Irish root, it is augured that much good may arise to the people from the increased stimulus to industry so occasioned, and their being induced not to place too great a dependence on any one product. Still, it is a melancholy sight to behold the support of a whole people struck down by such an inconceivable blight. Every means have been tried to arrest its progress, but without success; and, should it continue its ravages, Madeira wine bids fare to become greatly increased in value a few years hence, when, as a matter of course, it will be more in vogue and sought after, than has been the case for a long time back.[33]