Before recording the details of my passage home I wish to say a few words more with regard to the rising port of Santos, a notice of which has been accidentally omitted in a former part of my work. Its connection with the San Paulo Railway and the fact of its being the shipping port of the province renders Santos of much future importance. The distance from Rio de Janeiro is about 200 miles, and the navigation is simple enough—in fact, in sight of land the whole way, the sea coast ridge of mountains being conspicuous. The only danger is from the Alcatrazes rocks, which lie some distance to the eastward of Santos, and very ugly customers they are, towering a considerable height above the sea. Steamers can, however, have no difficulty in avoiding them after getting hold of the island of San Sebastian, from the point of which the Santos light becomes visible, and can be seen at a distance of 20 miles, but coasting craft require to keep a good lookout at night. The light is placed on an island of some elevation, covered with trees to the summit, and it has a very picturesque appearance. Rounding a bluff point, you enter at once what appears to be a river channel, though it is an estuary, for Santos is really an island. The passage is winding and the land on each side is covered with shrubby vegetation, the distance up four miles, with deep water for vessels of 1,000 tons. There are some scattered houses on the beach, chiefly used by sea-bathing residents, and on one side is an antiquated looking fort, supposed at one time to have guarded the entrance of the estuary—a specimen of early Portuguese defences; and on the island of Santos are the remains of the old town of San Vincente, the first founded on this part of the coast. The anchorage opposite the town is convenient and well protected; several wharves extend out where vessels lie alongside to discharge and load cargo, and at the Custom House there is an iron pontoon used for the same purpose. At this wharf the steamer I came down in (1,000 tons burden) received a full cargo and sailed within three days, a feat without parallel in any other port in Brazil.

There is some pretty scenery around Santos—on the coast side a range of hills, and opposite to the town, across the estuary, rise the bold mountain ranges covered with verdure. It is a pleasant ride round the base of the hills on the seaside until you come to the town of San Vincente. The railway is laid along a swampy marsh, running parallel and close to the old San Paulo road until it crosses the bridge of Cubitao, which connects the island and the main land. The town itself is long and straggling, containing from 8,000 to 10,000 inhabitants, with some fine warehouses or stores for storing coffee, cotton, or other country produce previous to shipment. At the extremity of the town is the railway station, a commodious building, having wharves, alongside of which vessels can come, and opposite to the station is what looks like a palace, with two wings and a centre, the outside almost entirely lined with ornamental blue Lisbon tiles, and the whole bearing an appearance quite out of keeping with the general features of the place. It is the costly hobby of an old Portuguese merchant, and intended for his own residence, but it progresses very slowly towards completion. The streets are paved with roughish stones, not easy for a novice to walk on, but a great improvement on the sandy element which formerly characterised primitive Brazilian streets. The class of buildings is generally solid, and there are some good, well stocked shops. There is also a theatre on a very diminutive scale, where I went to see an amusing amateur performance, but the heat was stifling; nevertheless, it was quite full, and some well dressed and sprightly young ladies formed part of the audience, and did not appear to be very much troubled by the not very aromatic flavour of the atmosphere. It was a relief to get into the fresh air for a few minutes between the acts.

Santos is not to be judged by its present status, but by what the railway must make it; and a few years will produce a very great change, further accelerated by the introduction of gas, water, and drainage, which are here much needed, as well as in the City of San Paulo. There is a specialty about the old Brazilian towns that one cannot help being struck with, and they present a striking contrast when railway innovation comes to disturb the slumbrous habits of the people. As a seaport and a rising town Santos is deserving of this additional notice, and, I may observe, its close proximity to the sea renders it exceedingly healthy.