Coasting Voyage from Santos to Sapitiva, and Journey thence to Rio de Janeiro.

WE left S. Paulo at ten in the morning, and took the same road to Santos by which we had come, there being no other, fit to travel. On the following day, before noon, we arrived at CubatÃo, where we were detained by rain, until four in the afternoon. About seven we arrived at Santos, and as we were provided with a letter of introduction to a judge, and another to a merchant, we relied on a kinder welcome than we had met with on our first visit, the more so as we came from S. Paulo. We were, however, deceived. The judge received us coldly, and when I asked him where the person lived to whom our other letter was addressed, he seemed quite rejoiced at the opportunity for shewing us out of his house. The merchant was as frigid as the judge, and made us a paltry excuse. We then repaired to an apothecary, from whom we had experienced some acts of urbanity, and who had attended one of our friends, who, having left S. Paulo in a bad state of health, had waited here three weeks for a passage to Rio de Janeiro. After telling him our situation, and stating that the wet weather prevented us from passing the night in our canoe, he kindly offered us his shop-floor for a lodging, it being the only place under cover he had to spare. We commissioned him to offer four dollars to any of his neighbours who would admit us for the night, but he said it would be of no avail, as the people of Santos were proverbially notorious for their want of hospitality. The great influx of strangers and renegadoes from all nations into this and other towns on the coast, had completely steeled the hearts of the people against those claims on their good-will, which the inhabitants of the interior, less frequently imposed upon, are ever ready to acknowledge and to satisfy.

Thus disappointed, we resolved not to wait at Santos for a ship, but to proceed to Rio de Janeiro, along the coast, in a canoe. Having hired one we embarked, and after rowing all night in a strait between the continent and the island of S. Thomas, which forms one of the passages to Santos from sea, we arrived by sun-rise at Bertioga, situated at the north end of that island. It is a village, consisting of some tolerably good buildings, erected for the convenience of the CapitÃo Mor and his attendants, who superintend a fishing establishment here, similar to that near St. Catherine’s, and belonging to the same company, but very much inferior in extent and capacity. At both places the most expert of the negroes are employed in dressing whalebone, which is a considerable article of commerce, though smaller and less valuable than that of the Greenland whale. Along the coast which we passed, are several fine bays, where, in the best times of the fishery, large quantities of whales were annually caught. The buildings for boiling the blubber and storing the oil were conveniently situated.

The fine harbour of Bertioga is well sheltered from all winds, and the town itself, being situated at the foot of a hill, is protected from the inclemencies of the weather, and is at times inconveniently warm. The basis of the hill is primitive granite, composed of hornblende, feldspar, quartz, and mica. Fine springs of water, bursting from various parts, give variety to the scenery, and an agreeable freshness to the air. Though the place bore the appearance of poverty, we observed no signs of want; the sea affords great plenty and variety of eatable fish, and the soil produces pulse, of various sorts, and rice, quantities of which we saw loading in boats for Santos. The people with whom we had to treat used us civilly, and seemed anxious to anticipate and to gratify all our requests. As the CapitÃo Mor was ill, he could not render us any assistance in procuring a passage for St. Sebastian; we were therefore obliged to hire the canoe to go forward.

A strong current setting in-shore detained us until midnight; we then took advantage of a calm which succeeded, and rowed away for a headland to the eastward, near which we arrived about sunrise, after a most laborious passage. The shore was quite solitary, with the exception of two very miserable huts, at which we could procure no better a breakfast than muscles. The face of the country is low and sandy, covered with underwood and groups of trees, and watered by rivulets from a range of mountains apparently about two leagues distant.

A breeze springing up about mid-day, we again embarked, but after contending with both elements for four hours, we were obliged again to take to our oars, in order to reach Porto d’Una before sun-set, which, with considerable exertion, we effected. At this place we observed a large plantation, belonging to a religious society at Santos, who hence derive a great part of their maintenance. After waiting till two in the morning for a change either of wind or current, we got out of port and proceeded on our voyage to Rio de Janeiro. We rowed against the wind till day-light, and then found ourselves near a bluff headland with steep rocks, forming a good harbour for boats, called Toque Toque, where we arrived about nine o’clock, having passed several conical islands, which are not laid down in any chart that I have hitherto seen. Off the point of Toque Toque, extends the fine island of St. Sebastian; the strait between it and the main affords an excellent passage, and a good harbour for ships of war.

The wind still blowing fresh against us, we rested awhile, and were amused by watching some fishermen haul their nets ashore with large draughts of cavallos in them. These fish weigh from fifteen to twenty pounds each, and are caught in great numbers along this coast.

Passing point Toque Toque at noon, we entered the strait of St. Sebastian. Its width is about two leagues; the land on both sides is bold and steep, and being well cultivated has a very grand and rich appearance. The varied foliage of the trees, and the different shades of verdure in the enclosures, combined with the romantic situations of the houses dispersed among them, presented a view worthy the ablest pencil; we had full leisure to enjoy it, for the wind being still adverse, our progress depended on the toil of our wearied boatmen. Several vessels, going the contrary way, passed us in full sail, the crews of which added to our chagrin by ironically wishing us a pleasant voyage. At four in the afternoon we arrived at the town of St. Sebastian, situated on a low tract of ground about three hundred yards from the beach. The inhabitants, amounting to two or three thousand, are an indigent and not very industrious people; they subsist chiefly on fish, which was the only food we could procure during the three days we staid among them. There are some inconsiderable plantations in the neighbourhood, where a little indigo is made, and some tolerably good tobacco is grown. This town is noted (and formerly was much more so) for its very large canoes scooped out of the solid timber; some of them I have seen of almost incredible dimensions. The civil government is entrusted to a CapitÃo Mor, whose authority is supported by a garrison of ten or fifteen soldiers under the command of an ensign. At the house of the latter we took up our abode, while waiting for an opportunity to hire a large canoe to carry us to Sapitiva, near Rio de Janeiro. The people with whom we had to bargain, used every petty means to thwart and impose upon us, and our host shewed no disposition to protect us against their chicanery, so that we encountered many vexatious delays ere we could accomplish our purpose.

This place is by no means a desirable, or indeed, a tolerable residence for a stranger; it is exposed to all the inconveniencies peculiar to low and sandy situations; the hot unwholesome weather, seldom refreshed by a breeze, tends to multiply the immense swarms of mosquitos, which constitute one of the plagues of the torrid zone. The neighbouring island, on the contrary, being more elevated, has the advantage of a freer air, and is therefore less annoyed by these troublesome insects. It has the reputation of producing the best sugar, rum, and pulse, as well as the finest cattle in all Brazil, and these advantages, joined to its convenient situation, must render a plantation upon it highly valuable. In common with the opposite shore, and the rocks observable in various parts of the straits, the island appears to be composed of the same variety of granite I have before described. Near the town of St. Sebastian’s, I found some large pieces of green-stone, which, when struck, emitted a very clear sound; fragments of limestone were abundant on the beach, but these probably were part of some vessel’s ballast, which had been thrown overboard in the bay, and washed ashore.

Having at length hired a canoe, we embarked for a village about five miles distant, called Bayro, where we arrived safe, and staid all night at the house of a fisherman, who undertook the charge of our navigation until we should arrive at Sapitiva. Bayro is a pretty but poor village, built near the beach, and is chiefly noted as being the place where most of the earthenware, used at Rio de Janeiro, is made. The clay appears to be formed by the decomposition of feldspar. Here is a large convent, well built, and finely situated, fronting the bay and near the sea.

About nine in the morning, we embarked in our canoe, which was forty feet long, covered with an awning, and rowed by six men. In the afternoon we arrived at Porcos, a fine, bold, conical island, with good anchorage, but no port. Its coasts abound with excellent fish. Here was stationed a guard of soldiers to prevent contraband trade, and to give information respecting it; the officer, an ensign, made us welcome to all he had, and treated us with great kindness during our short stay. Leaving this place at two in the morning, we rowed through an archipelago of islets, and arrived at Porto Negro, within four leagues of Ilha Grande, and the morning following reached a bay in that island. The land is, in general, very high and irregular; in the interior it is well wooded, and contains some excellent iron ore, which is very little known. Its coasts are but partially inhabited. The strait, which separates it from the main land, is an excellent harbour in all its extent, and was the rendezvous of some English privateers during our war with Spain. The country, in its vicinity, is well clothed with large timber, and appears very fruitful, but is thinly peopled by a set of men, whose manners and pursuits denote them to be outcasts from society. In the evening we entered a fine bay, and procured some refreshment at a house on the beach, where we intended to pass the night, but a plan had been laid to rob us, and we were obliged, on discovering it, to re-embark before day-break, much rejoiced at having narrowly escaped the loss of our property and our lives. Pursuing our course among the many islands, with which this part of the coast is studded, we passed the beautiful and fertile island of Madeira, and, at noon, crossed two wide bays. A favorable breeze now, for the first time, sprung up, which lasted until we arrived at Sapitiva, and here ended our romantic canoe-voyage.

I would strongly impress on every traveller, pursuing a similar course, the expediency of providing himself with a soldier commissioned to attend him, and to protect his person and property against the evil-minded persons, who prowl about the coast in search of plunder, and greedily seek every opportunity of securing, by fraud or force, the property of defenceless passengers. We had more than once occasion to rue the neglect of this precaution.

At Sapitiva, we met with excellent accommodations. The owner of the house at which we put up, furnished us with a plentiful supper of fish, fowls, coffee, and excellent sweetmeats, which we relished the more from having, for eight days, subsisted wholly on fish. Our lodgings were tolerably comfortable, and were rendered more so by the earnestness with which every one in the family strove to please us. At sun-rise next morning, after diverting myself with shooting a few horned plovers on the beach, I took a survey of the romantic scenery around. Here are a few poor houses, and some plantations of indigo, sugar, and pulse. The beach is lined with fine aloes, and presents an interesting view of several islets in front of the bay, the most conspicuous of which is Madeira, before-mentioned. In another direction is seen that of Ilha Grande. Four leagues distant from Sapitiva is Santa Cruz, formerly the property of the Jesuits, and now the royal farm of the Prince Regent of Portugal, of which I shall have occasion, in the sequel, to speak more at large.

After settling with our host, we hired mules to carry us to Rio de Janeiro, distant forty miles. Owing to the weight of our baggage, we travelled but slowly: this, however, we did not regret, as the fatigues of our coasting-voyage rendered us rather averse to violent exertion. Proceeding through a low sandy country, covered with wood, for about three leagues, we skirted the boundary of the Prince’s farm, which encloses some of the finest and most fertile plains in South America, and gives employment to upward of fifteen hundred negroes. We soon afterwards reached the main road, which in general is very good, but the lands about it are little cleared, and seem almost destitute of cultivators. In the course of twenty miles, we saw only one house that deserved the name of a plantation; the only dwellings by the way-side were miserable huts and dram-shops, exhibiting deplorable symptoms of sloth and poverty. Before sun-set we halted at a kind of inn, where our mules were turned out to grass, and a supper was provided for us of fowls, milk, and coffee. The house, though pleasantly situated on an eminence among orange-groves and coffee-trees, was miserably deficient in those conveniences which its exterior had announced. The room where we supped was lighted by a small poor lamp, (here being no candles,) and the floor was so uneven, that our table stood on only two of its four legs. Tired with this cheerless gloom, we ordered our beds to be unpacked, and retired to rest. The want of candle-light is a serious inconvenience to travellers in all parts of Brazil, and no one ought to undertake a journey without an ample provision of candles, with the necessary implements for using them. Snuffers are articles of luxury, very rarely to be met with, except as curiosities. I need not add that beds are an equally indispensable part of a traveller’s equipage.

We resumed our journey at an early hour next day, along an excellent road in the middle of a valley, formed by lofty mountains. After travelling about three miles, we came to a house, called the Padeira (bake-house), which is reckoned half way between Sapitiva and the capital. From this place the road gradually becomes more enlivened by dwellings and plantations, (but many of the former, are wretched hovels erected for the sale of bacon, corn, liquors, &c.) and by numbers of countrymen bringing produce from every part of the south-west, even from the far districts of Goyazes, Coritiva, Cuyaba, S. Paulo, and Mato Grosso. It is not uncommon to see eight hundred or a thousand mules passing and repassing in the course of a day, besides numerous droves of fine cattle for the use of the city. Our heavy-laden and weary mules travelled so slowly, that we did not come within sight of Rio de Janeiro, until about three in the afternoon. On reaching the eminence, which commanded the first prospect of this fine city, our joyful sensations banished every feeling of fatigue. One of the party, who had advanced a few paces, rode back as fast as his mule could go, exclaiming, “the English flag.” We hastened onward, and beheld one of the most welcome sights that ever greeted the eyes of a traveller, with a remembrance of his native country—a squadron of our men of war at anchor in the bay, which had recently escorted the court of Portugal to an asylum in their own dominions, beyond the reach of their foes. We no longer felt uneasy at the thought of entering a large city inhabited by strangers; we knew that the name of Englishman would be a passport among them, and we anticipated something of that delight which is connected with the near prospect of home. I, who had for eighteen months lingered in exile, and beheld each setting sun close another day of almost hopeless captivity, enjoyed this evening-scene with indescribable emotion; it was here, that, for the first time since my landing in South America, I had just reason to promise myself a night’s repose in freedom, safety, and peace.

We soon reached the suburbs, which are very large and pleasant, being agreeably interspersed with gardens and pleasure-grounds. About five o’clock we halted in the vicinity of Campo de Santa Anna, at an inn, or rather hostelry for cattle, whence, having secured our baggage in the miserable stall allotted to us, we sallied forth in search of the friends who left us at St. Catherine’s. Accustomed, as we long had been, to rude and solitary scenes, we were forcibly struck with the opulence of this city, displayed in its magnificent buildings and regular streets. While engaged in anxious enquiries after our friends, we accidentally met one of them, who, with unspeakable joy, conducted us to the rest; and the evening was passed most agreeably in relating our several encounters, and in asking and answering innumerable questions. Returning to our inn at midnight, we remained with our luggage until morning, when we carted it up to the house of our friends in Rua dos Pescadores.

During our journey from Sapitiva to Rio de Janeiro, we had not much leisure for geological observation. The stratum, in the course of the route, appeared to be generally granite, like that before described. In some parts we observed large stones, approximating to green-stone, and in other parts we found fine clay. Nearer to the capital, and particularly in the environs of St. CristovÃo, the Prince’s country-palace, the stratum has a gneiss-like appearance, and produces some fine specimens of feldspar. In the precincts of the city, there is an extensive flat, covered with mangroves, and overflowed by the tide. At the foot of the mountains which bound it, are quarries of granite, large blocks of which are raised for building purposes, as well as for paving the streets of the city.