Nevin O. Winter

It is a distance of three hundred miles from Rio to SÃo Paulo, the second city in the republic, and the ride is very interesting, especially so for the first two or three hours. This time is taken by the railway line to climb over the ridge of mountains, which everywhere pass close to the shore. For some time after leaving the Central station in Rio, the train passes through the city and suburban towns, over which a good and frequent suburban service is run. Then a strip of rather low land gives the traveller a fairly good view of a Brazilian forest of small trees and undergrowth, matted together with parasites, and forming an almost compact mass of green in which many orchids may be seen. Fairly well cultivated fields are passed at intervals until the ascent begins at Belem, from which time there is very little cultivation. Some grand glimpses of mountain scenery are revealed as the train turns around bends and emerges from one or another of the numerous tunnels along the line. Mountains, hills and valleys, flowing streams and cascades, mingle in a panorama of wonderful beauty. At Barra do Pirahy the SÃo Paulo road branches off from the line to Bello Horizonte, and gradually descends to lower levels.

Much of the land, as the slopes become less steep, has been cultivated in the past with coffee, but it is now abandoned. Dead, or nearly dead, coffee trees are still standing amidst the wild growth that has sprung up since the land was abandoned. This part of Minas Geraes was at one time regarded as one of the richest coffee sections in Brazil, and would be valuable land even to-day were it not for the improvident and wasteful methods of the average planter. The trees were planted too thick, and no effort made to place back in the soil any of the elements taken out. It was considered cheaper to buy virgin soil in a new location than to do anything to build up the land already owned. The same thing is seen in other parts of Minas Geraes and the state of Rio de Janeiro, the latter being the state in which was originally grown the famous “Rio” coffee.

The road follows the Parahyba River most of the way, sometimes on one bank and again on the other. The valleys become broader, although occasionally a cut is made through an interesting ridge. The towns are more numerous and larger during the last hundred miles. The Italian element grows more pronounced, and many Italians may be seen at the stations and on the trains. Ox teams drawing clumsy carts seem to be the principal conveyances for freight, and two-wheeled carriages of an antiquated type, which must have been the originals of the London hansom cabs, convey the passengers. At one station an old style automobile was sandwiched in between these two classes of vehicles, and it seemed strangely out of place, except that the automobile was as antiquated for that class of conveyances as the others were in their line.

Immense ant hills dot the landscape in many places. These hills are oftentimes from three to four or five feet in height, and look strangely like old-fashioned bee hives with their rounded tops. The red dust sifts in through the car windows in clouds. As the windows must be kept closed on this account, one is given a turkish bath under very disadvantageous circumstances. Furthermore, no matter how hot it is, the sweltering traveller is not permitted to remove his coat, as that is a breach of etiquette not allowed here. I tried it and was immediately requested very politely to put it on. You may expectorate on the floor as much as you like, but to remove your coat—“No, Senhor; it is against the rules of the company.”

The dust is caused by the red clay which is used as a ballast here because it is found all along the line, and is cheaper than stone. A few coffee fields are passed, and then we enter a valley many miles broad, and one has his first glimpse of really level land in Brazil. At length, after eleven hours’ ride, the train rolls into the Norte station of the City of SÃo Paulo, and the carigadores begin their struggle for your luggage. Then, after being released from their clutches, you are turned over to the tender mercies of the cabman, and the traveller welcomes the comfort of a bath in his hotel to get rid of the dust of travel.

The city of SÃo (pronounced Sah-o, with a nasal sound after the a) Paulo is the second city in the republic in population and commercial importance. It is situated on a plain with low hills upon the entire horizon. Its population is in the neighbourhood of three hundred and fifty thousand. Although little coffee is produced within fifty miles of SÃo Paulo, yet it is the centre of that trade, and the great increase in the production has caused the wonderful growth of this city. It is more like an American city than any of the other Brazilian towns, because, in whatever direction one looks, the high smoke-stacks of some of the many factories may be seen. The suburbs are many and new, and everywhere are signs of building activity and the construction of public improvements. The growth of the city has really been marvellous. Twenty years ago SÃo Paulo was a comparatively unimportant city of twenty-five thousand people. Now it has grown and broadened out until it covers a wide territory. Real estate values have increased until to-day real estate on Rua SÃo Bento, or Rua Quinze de Novembro (15th of November), is almost as high as on the principal streets in similar towns of the United States. It has become the distributing and manufacturing centre for this, the most progressive state in the republic. The temperature of SÃo Paulo may have something to do with the energetic character of the people. Although the latitude is not much different from Rio, its altitude of more than 2,000 feet renders the climate very agreeable. I was there in the middle of their summer, and, although the days were quite warm, the nights were delightfully cool, and blankets were very comfortable on one’s bed.

RUA DIREITA, SÃO PAULO.

The business centre of the city is a triangle composed of the two streets above mentioned, and the Rua Direita, the straight street. Around this triangle in the afternoons the ladies walk on their shopping tours; in the evening it is the promenade, and all the people who are down town at night may be seen somewhere on that route. SÃo Paulo is not a typical Brazilian town, for it has outgrown many of those characteristics to be seen in the towns which are more peculiarly Portuguese. There is a large foreign element, and their influence is notable in every part of the city, and even in the life of the Paulistas themselves. A great deal of the exclusiveness of the family life has disappeared, and the young women of the city may be seen out upon the street on a shopping tour, or performing an errand, unaccompanied by the duenna, which would be unknown in more conservative Rio. There are perhaps one hundred thousand Italians in the city, and added to these are several thousands of other nationalities, with only a small sprinkling of those of American birth. And yet, although the number of Americans is small, the American influence is paramount, and everywhere I went, among high officials or business men, I found a great interest in things American, and an effort to copy after and learn from the institutions in the United States. Their aim is progress and, although some of the methods are rather crude and sometimes impractical, the effort is apparent and great good is being done.

The Tramways, Light and Power Company of SÃo Paulo has had a great influence in this city and has, I believe, been an educational feature in the business development. It is owned by the same group of capitalists who control the company having similar concessions in Rio, but their influence is more easily traced here. The charter of this company is Canadian, but its methods are strictly what we term American, and a number of our fellow-citizens are at work with it. Brazilian young men consider it a credit to be in the employ of this company. They furnish an excellent system of electric traction with about eighty miles of track. The electricity is developed from a waterfall on the TietÉ River, a few miles away. A great deal of freight is hauled on the tram lines, and it is no uncommon sight to see car load after car load of squealing pork hauled through the streets.

English is taught in the public schools, and is a required language before a degree is given, so that it will not be many years before the educated classes will all have a knowledge of that language. “And,” said the able director of the schools, “we aim to teach a conversational knowledge of the language and not merely a reading knowledge.” “Furthermore,” he said, “we are copying after the educational methods of the United States just as fast as it is possible to introduce new methods. It can not all be done at once, for certain prejudices exist in favour of the old systems.”

“Estado, Senhor? Correio?” These are the cries that greet one’s ears as the hustling little newsboys ply their trade, just as their counterparts do in our own land. This city supports a dozen dailies. The two above mentioned are very enterprising publications, which publish more foreign news than the average American daily, although the most of it is European. Then the lotteries are everywhere in evidence. In some blocks there are three or four agencies, besides the vendors on the streets. The Brazilians are born gamblers, and this is their favourite method of wooing the fickle goddess of fortune. There is a national lottery, and perhaps the next most popular one is that of this state. There is a drawing nearly every day, with an occasional grand prize of fifty thousand dollars. I met one American who had just drawn a prize of sixty thousand dollars in the National lottery, and this had caused quite a flutter in the English speaking colony. The people forget that not one dollar is paid out for perhaps four that are paid in, but they are always hoping that the lightning will strike in their direction. Men, women and school children, people in silk and rags, black, white and brown, all buy the little strips of paper with the magic numbers on them, and they eagerly scan the drawings when posted. Brazil is not alone in this folly, however, for all the republics surrounding her encourage the same form of gambling.

As SÃo Paulo is the capital of a state there are the usual public buildings that one will find for the transaction of the public business. The finest and most imposing building in the city is the Municipal Theatre, which is a very fair rival to the one in Rio de Janeiro. It is not quite finished as yet, but the exterior is very fine and in good taste. There are some beautiful homes on the Avenida Tiradentes and the Avenida Paulista, the latter being a comparatively new street. The new thoroughfares are broad and roomy, while the streets in the old town are, for the most part, very narrow and illy adapted for the traffic of a large city. This is overcome to a certain extent by allowing the cars and street traffic to move only one way on many streets.

Just beyond SÃo Paulo, and only a short ride by electric car, is a magnificent building known as the Ypiranga, which deserves more than passing notice, for it is built on the site of the birthplace of Brazilian independence. Dom Pedro, representative of the Portuguese authority in Brazil, was also the son of the King of Portugal. In the struggles between Brazil and the Cortes of Lisbon, which was striving to increase the taxes of that country, and at the same time remove what little constitutional liberty had been granted, this prince was heart and soul on the side of the people. During the long struggle Dom Pedro had ingratiated himself with the people, until all were united with him. Insult was heaped upon the Brazilian deputies in the Cortes, by refusing to let them speak in behalf of their country’s cause. At length a peremptory order was sent to Dom Pedro ordering his immediate return to Portugal. The messenger bearing this decree met the prince as he was returning with a hunting party on the bank of a little stream called the “Ypiranga.” Upon reading it he called upon his followers, and declared that he would never leave Brazil. “Independence ou morte (independence or death), is my watchword,” said he. The party took up this watchword, and it spread like wildfire all over the land. This was on the 7th of September, 1822, and a month later Dom Pedro was proclaimed Emperor of Brazil. One will find many streets in Brazil named 7th de Setembro, in commemoration of this grito, or shout of independence.

The museum is very imposing, as it stands on an eminence that overlooks the country for miles around. It is built of marble, but the red sand of the country has given it a very peculiar effect, almost like that of old ivory. It contains much that is of scientific interest. Especially fine is the collection of humming birds, beetles and butterflies. There are several specimens of the Louvadeus grasshopper, which raises its feelers and poses itself almost in the attitude of prayer. The name means “praise God.” One of the principal objects of interest is a large painting representing the scene when the prince pronounced the watchword “independence or death.”

The governments of several different states are endeavouring to induce immigrants to come in. The efforts of SÃo Paulo have been most successful, and their methods are copied by other states. This state maintains a splendid immigration office in the city of SÃo Paulo, which is strictly up to date. The immigrants upon landing at Santos are taken by special train to this station, and here they are kept for a week or ten days at government expense. During this time they are housed in excellent quarters, given good food, and kept under the supervision of doctors. Many have had their entire expenses from their homes paid by the government. In these buildings are offices where immigrants are secured employment on the various fazendas. A record is kept of each fazendero to see if he carries out his contracts. Notices are posted up where labour is wanted on fazendas or railroads. Written contracts are made and signed between employer and employee in legal form. The wages generally received are from $.90 to $1.25 per day for such labourers. Interpreters are kept who are able to converse in the many languages that will be required. The labourer is then forwarded to his destination in the interior at government expense. It is far different from the way they are received in our own land, and I only wish that a few hundred thousand of those seeking the shores of the United States each year would turn their steps down this way. They would be better off there than they are in our own great cities.

When I visited this immigration station there were about nine hundred immigrants there who had just been landed. Of this number four-fifths were Spaniards, with a sprinkling of Russians, Poles, Austrians, Hungarians and Italians. A few days later I saw a couple of hundred more of the same varied nationalities landed at Santos, and loaded on a special train for SÃo Paulo. I always pity these poor immigrants who come to a new country with no money, few clothes, many children, and nothing else but a big hope of something, or faith in somebody, in their breast. The total number of immigrants reaching all Brazil in the past year, the excess over those leaving, would not exceed eighty thousand.

The government of SÃo Paulo has established a number of colonies in the state, one or two of which I visited. In these colonies the land is platted in tracts of about fifty acres, which are sold to the colonists at $500 per tract, payable one-tenth each year. The colonist is allowed to live one year free of charge in the colony house, but within this time he must construct his own home. Some of these colonies have proven quite successful, and many immigrants have thus been able to acquire a home with their own vine and fig tree surrounding it. It is certainly the best thing for the colonist, for he has a chance to secure his own home and that ought to be a stimulus to bring out the best there is in a man. In the less developed part of the state, lands will be given the colonist practically free.

The Italian element in Brazil is large, and is increasing each year by immigration. In all of the cities of southern Brazil the Italians are numerous, but they probably reach their largest percentage in the state of SÃo Paulo, where they number about forty per cent. of the population. Of the two and a half millions of people in that state there are perhaps one million of Italian birth. Everywhere one can see evidences of these children of sunny Italy, who have sought homes in the new land because of the overcrowding at home. Most of them come from northern Italy, and they are said to make better workmen than those from Southern Italy. It would be difficult for the coffee planters to work their plantations were it not for these people, and every plantation has one or several colonies of these labourers. They are generally preferred to the negro labourers by the planters. The most of them are industrious and frugal. Many of them eventually join one of the government colonies, and purchase a small tract of land; others become tradesmen, and open a small store to cater to those of their own nationality; still others travel from door to door selling small household articles needed by the housewives. One will hear the same street cries, see the same characteristic packs and bundles, and observe the same styles of dress that are common in the northern provinces of Italy. In recent years the number of Italians coming to Brazil has because of restrictions of the Italian government.

There is still an abundance of soil in this state, nearly three times as large as all New England, awaiting development. The entire western half, which is composed of fertile virgin soil, is practically unexploited. The recent completion of the railroad, which follows the TietÉ River to its junction with the ParanÁ, will open that section to emigration. Along this river, and the other water courses of the state, much fine hardwood timber is found that is well adapted for finishing lumber. Some of the woods are similar to and will take as fine a polish as mahogany. The difficulty is in marketing them. The logs will not float, so that it is necessary to build rafts on which to transport them. As none of the streams flow direct to the Atlantic, the logs must be sent down through the La Plata system, and the many waterfalls make this impracticable. Cheap railroad rates furnish the only solution to this problem.

The water power awaiting development in this state is almost incredible. As the rainfall is large and frequent the volume of water is constant and reliable. On the TietÉ River alone there are hundreds of feet of hydraulic falls that could furnish thousands of horsepower energy for practical purposes. The same might be said of the Piracicaba, the Rio Grande, the Paranapanema, and the Mogy-Guassu Rivers, as well as the mighty ParanÁ itself, which forms the western boundary of SÃo Paulo.

One of the most interesting trips made by me in Brazil was to RiberÃo Preto, which is in the very centre of the richest coffee district in the world. The route first led over the tracks of the SÃo Paulo Railway to the town of Jundiahy. This line runs through the hills and gradually reaches a lower level. No villages of importance are passed until Jundiahy is reached, and that is interesting only as a railroad junction point. Here a change was made to the Paulista Railway, over which a ride of an hour takes the traveller to Campinas, a city once very flourishing because the centre of the coffee trade. During the past few years this town has declined, because the coffee production in this neighbourhood has greatly decreased. The city probably contains twenty-five thousand people, and is a typical Brazilian town—far more representative than its more successful rival of SÃo Paulo. There are hundreds of acres of coffee trees still producing in the Campinas district, but they are not well kept, as it seems to be the general intention of abandoning it when the present trees cease to bear. I visited one plantation in this neighbourhood, the Fazenda da Lapa, and it was very interesting, because it was the first one that I had examined, but it cannot compare with the ones later to be described. The charming hospitality of these fazenderos is most captivating. On the visit to this plantation the owner served us a meal of fruit fit for a king’s table. It was in the early days of January, and we had oranges, bananas, figs, mangoes, pineapples, strawberries, plums and several varieties of grapes, all of them raised on the plantation, and most of which we had ourselves assisted in picking.

At Campinas is located the Instituto Agronomico, which is an experimental institution of the state government. Its purpose is to study the various enemies which attack vegetation and discover means, if possible, for their eradication. It also experiments with the raising of various kinds of grain, and the cultivation of fruits. The work laid out for this institution is a good one, for what is needed in Brazil is a practical application of good agricultural principles, a study of the soil and a knowledge of what it is adapted for. The equipment of this institution is good, and the buildings are large and commodious. But a great deal of money is spent for what might be termed the show features, where it could better be expended for practical purposes. There is a great field, I believe, for the cultivation of fruits. In a country such as this, where fruit trees grow almost without cultivation, a very large percentage of the fruits are imported. For instance, at the hotels the fruit served would be American or Portuguese apples, and Malaga grapes. And yet, right here at this institute, I saw grapes finer, in my opinion, than those brought over thousands of miles of water. With proper cultivation nearly every one of the common fruits of the tropical and temperate zone could be raised here, and of fine quality. Instead, thousands of dollars are sent out of the country for the fruits which might be better raised at home.

From Campinas the journey was continued over the Mogyana Railroad, a narrow gauge track. The line passes through coffee plantations for some distance, and then into uncultivated lands, where the only industry is the raising of stock. A part of the land traversed is abandoned agricultural land, and part of it has never been under cultivation. The cattle seen on these farms are only of fair quality, for not much care has been taken in breeding the animals up to a high standard. With many bends and graceful curves the road follows a stream, cuts across valleys and around hills. There is no part of the ten hours’ journey when hills of fair size are not a prominent feature in the foreground. A number of towns are passed, and a few very narrow gauged railroads run off to plantations, which cannot be seen from the railroads. The soil is almost the colour of dried blood, and this red dirt filters in through the windows in great clouds. This blood-red dust colours everything it touches with a reddish hue. The clothing is soon tinted with it, and even the children’s complexions show the effects, for Brazilian children, like their cousins all over the world, like to play in the dirt. But this red soil is good coffee land, and coffee plantations are seen crowning the summits of the hills. At last the train reaches RiberÃo Preto, near which are situated the best and largest coffee plantations, not only in Brazil but in the world. The town is comparatively modern, for this district is newer than Campinas, and it has been growing in importance year after year in the past two decades. It is now a city of ten or fifteen thousand people.

At the station were waiting carriages from the hospitable “Monte Alegre” fazenda, the residence of Colonel Francisco Schmidt, who is known as the “coffee king.” This man came to Brazil as a poor emigrant boy a half century ago, and hoed coffee trees for other fazenderos, and on lands which he now owns. Seated on the broad veranda of “Monte Alegre,” one could see avenues of coffee trees stretching out over the hills, and good coffee lands are always hilly, until they were lost in the horizon. Although it was not possible to see, yet one knew that they continued in the same unbroken rows down the other slope. I rode in a carriage with the Colonel for hours through a continuous succession of coffee trees, during the three days that I was his guest, with no end in sight. When you consider that there are from two hundred and fifty to three hundred trees to each acre, you will readily realize that the number of trees soon runs into the thousands, then into the tens of thousands, and finally into the millions. So do not be surprised when I tell you that this coffee king has already growing upon his various fazendas the almost incredible number of eight million coffee trees. I did not see all of them, but I saw so many that numbers lost their meaning, and I could only think in millions.

Twenty-three million pounds of coffee were marketed by this man in one year. This is enough to give every man, woman and child in the United States and Canada a cup of coffee for breakfast for one week. He has twenty railroad stations on his thirty-two different fazendas. He has twenty machines run by water or steam power for cleaning coffee, and acres upon acres of drying yards, all of which are scenes of activity in the harvesting season. Nearly a thousand horses are employed in the work of the plantations, besides more than that number of mules and oxen. There is also a fully-equipped sugar mill, which turns out thousands of pounds of refined sugar each year. In fact, the Colonel told me, as we were seated at the great dining table, that would seat forty persons, and which was spread with the good things of life: “Everything on the table, except the flour used in making the bread, was raised on this plantation.”

The Colonel reminded me of the feudal lords of old, for the eight thousand people who live on his plantations not only depend on him for labour, but look up to him and tip their hats respectfully whenever they see him. The work of taking care of the coffee trees is all let out to families at so much a thousand trees per year, and a family will take care of five thousand trees. The price paid is from $25.00 to $30.00 per thousand per year for hoeing and cleaning the fields, and they are paid in addition to this for picking the coffee at established rates. Furthermore, they are permitted to plant corn and beans in between the coffee rows which gives them an extra profit. Day labourers are paid at the rate of $.90 to $1.00 for each day’s work.

Everything about this plantation is conducted in a systematic manner, and in that is the secret of Colonel Schmidt’s success. The thirty-two farms are all connected with his home by telephone, for which more than eighty miles of telephone wire have been strung. Everything, including plumbing supplies, is kept in systematic order and the owner himself knows where each article may be found. Machinery when not in use is carefully stored under shelter to protect it from rust. A half dozen blacksmiths, as many woodworkers, harnessworkers, shoemakers, etc., are kept on the plantation, and even a private tailor is employed at the house. A dozen or more general stores are operated for supplying the wants of the employees. With this and much more detail this great plantation is run on modern business methods, with as perfect a system of bookkeeping as the average business man employs. From these books can be told at a glance the exact cost of each plantation for each year, its production and the net profit to the owner. And, above all, the Colonel is a charming host, and finds time to make it interesting for those, like myself, who visit him where he is king.

The “Dumont” fazenda adjoins the one just described, and it is the second largest plantation in Brazil, and perhaps in the world. It was formerly owned by the family of Santos-Dumont, the aeronaut, but is now under the control of an English company. They own a private railroad with more than forty miles of track, which runs to RiberÃo Preto. The track is only twenty-six inches wide, and the cars are rather narrow with room for only one person on each side of the aisle. A special train, with the best car the road possesses, drawn by a Baldwin engine, was sent for us and we were taken over the coffee plantation, which possesses nearly five million trees. It was also very interesting to travel over the thousands of acres owned by them, in and through the rows of coffee trees which almost brushed up against the car in places, in this comfortable, if diminutive coach, and see the methods of culture and care of the coffee, which is slightly different than that pursued on the other. It was also interesting to find an up-to-date American in charge of the vast interests of this English company, and to know that one of our own nationality is making good in the coffee-raising industry as well as in other lines. This company markets all its own coffee through an auxiliary company in England in packages under its own labels. The “Dumont” fazenda is also conducting an experiment in rubber culture, and now has forty thousand trees growing, some of which are almost ready to tap. If rubber continues to advance, as it has in the past year, this part of their plantation may prove more profitable than the growing of coffee.