# The Knickerbocker/Volume 64/Number 1/Brazil and Brazilian Society

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Brazil and Brazilian Society
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Originally appeared in French as "Le Brésil et la Société brésilienne," in Revue des Deux Mondes, 2e période, tome 45 (June 1863)
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BRAZIL AND BRAZILIAN SOCIETY.
TRANSLATED FROM THE REVUE DES DEUX MONDES, BY ASHER HALL.
CHAPTER THIRD.
PEOPLE OF COLOR.
One would form a poor estimate of the future prospects of Brazil, if he only saw the works of the negro and the Indian. He who would know all the elements of vitality existing in the Brazilian people, must observe the men of color, who seem to have drawn from the mixture of races the necessary vigor for subjugating the rugged and torrid nature of the tropics. The constantly increasing number of people of color is explained by European emigration. Few women emigrate across the ocean, while, on the contrary, twenty-five thousand men from Europe annually land in Brazil, where they disperse, some in the towns and others in the country, according to their taste, aptitude, or ambition. In the absence of white women, they ally themselves to negresses or Indians, and hence springs the class of mestizos, who, amalgamating in their turn, produce all the intermediate shades of the race. This crossing of the different classes may be divided into three primitive branches—the Mameluco, the Mulatte, and the Caboclo.
THE MAMELUCO.
Of these three types the mameluco presents the most singular characteristics. By this name are designated the descendants of the old conquistadores, who took Indian wives, after exterminating the warriors of the wilderness. They occupy a large belt on both shores of the Rio de la Plata, from the Atlantic coast to the most secluded forests of the interior. The southern provinces are almost exclusively populated by them.
HORSEMANSHIP
Accustomed to the horse from childhood, the mamelucosrarely put their feet to the ground. They attend to business, hunt, fish, and talk over their affairs on horseback. Armed with the lasso, they form those redoubtable centaurs, so well known in South-America under the name of Gauchos, and who may be considered the first horsemen in the world. They easily ride down the swiftest animals, such as the nandu, or American ostrich, and strike them with their terrible bolas. It is among them that are found, at the present day, the most intrepid soldiers and the best colonists of Brazil and the Argentine Republic. Accustomed to wrestle against the difficulties of wilderness life, to respire the air of the broad plains, and to race through the immense campos of the South with all the swiftness of their wild steeds, they differ wonderfully from their degenerate brethren, who have been effimitated by the opulent fazendas of the coast, or the voluptuous cities near the Atlantic. One thing alone is common to them all, namely, a deep sense of the duty of hospitality. It would be necessary to go back to Homeric legends to meet, in Europe, with the reception that the humblest plantation offers to the traveller in the forests of the new world.
DIFFERENT KINDS OF RANCHO.
Like all people of color, the mameluco troubles himself little about his lodging The rancho suffices for him. This is an open structure that serves, according to its situation, as a shelter for provisions, residents, mules, travellers, and frequently for all together. Nothing is more simple, and at the same time more varied, than the architecture of this shelter. The rancho of the venda, or tavern, is not at all like that of the forest, which differs still more from that of the ​plantation. The primitive rancho is nothing more than the hut of the negro and the Indian. It consists of four posts set in the ground, supporting a roof of thatch or of palm leaves, and is met with in cultivated lands or on the borders of the forests. A few hours suffice to erect it, and a storm suffices to destroy it. The rancho takes the most varied forms. For example, there is the rancho of the tropeiros, or conductors of caravans. It is seldom found except on frequented road-sides, and is the primitive hut enlarged and amplified, and no longer appropriated to a family of savages, but to a whole caravan. Pillars of masonry are erected at the four corners, and the tile-covered roof is sustained by solid wood-work. Numerous posts in the interior, set up in symmetrical lines, sustain the wood-work, and at the same time serve the tropeiros for fastening their mules while loading and unloading the sacks of coffee, casks of sugar, or bundles of cotton. Here they cook their food, and repose for the night upon the harness of their animals, while the latter feed in the adjoining pasto, or pasture. Admittance is gratuitous, but the proprietor amply recompenses himself in the patronage of his bar, and the millet he furnishes for the mules
There is also the rancho of the fazenda. Here the shed becomes a house, or rather a stable and house combined, in which lodge both animals and men.
CATTLE AND HORSES—CARNE SECA.
Besides the horses which they expose for sale at the great fairs, or take into the northern provinces, the Gauchos also raise numerous herds of cattle. At first they only took off the hides and left the flesh to the urubus, or vultures. Gradually, however, they accustomed them selves to smoke the meat, and prepare the carne seca, so extensively used at the present day throughout South-America. Afterwards they used the tallow in the manufacture of soap; and, while I was in Brazil, I heard plans of factories talked of for the manufacture of animal black, or charcoal, thus utilizing the bones.
SHEPHERD DOGS.
The Gauchos also have flocks of sheep; but, like veritable hidalgos, they have them watched by dogs which they educate to this shepherd duty. The dog goes out in the morning with his flock, his rations, in a basket, suspended to his neck, and brings the sheep safely back at nightfall.
THE PEON.
When the Gaucho has no patrimony, he goes out as peon, or mule-trainer, on the neighboring fazendas. The peon is generally lean, but muscular and solidly built. His color and deeply-tanned skin show that his life is spent in the open air. A colored shirt, striped linen pantaloons, and a large cutlass suspended from his belt compose his costume. His eyes are hid under a straw hat, twisted and discolored by the heat and rain of the tropics. To his naked and callous feet are attached immense spurs, like those worn by the paladins of the middle ages. A European spur would make no impression on the hide of a South-American mule.
HORSE-TRAINING.
The strength and dexterity displayed by the peon in taming a wild, unruly animal, are a subject of wonder and admiration to travellers, and even to Brazilians themselves, Placing himself at a little distance from an opening in a wall or fence, with one hand he holds the end of the lasso, while the other retains the noose and remainder of the cord arranged in concentric circles. While negroes, with long poles, are shouting and driving the animals toward the passage, the peon whirls the coiled lasso above his head in order to give it the necessary projectile force, and throws it suddenly, at the moment when the chosen victim passes before him; then, instantly inclining himself in the opposite direction, he braces his legs with all his strength, and gives his body ​a more and more oblique position. He now reminds one of an enormous iron post fixed in the ground, inclined in the direction of the tension of the cord. The quadruped, on feeling his neck fastened, at first rears and flies away at fall speed; but, after a few desperate efforts, is choked by the cord, and stops. The tamer now approaches him, slips on a bridle, mounts him, and having unfastened the lasso, commences the training. The first lessons are the most difficult. The animal rears and throws himself down, endeavoring at the same time to rid himself of rider, bits, and spurs. Vain efforts! victory rests with the man!
This rugged profession, compelling the muscles to severe tension and continual effort, wears out the peon before his time; and, whatever the skill of these centaurs, they do not always escape the dangers inseparable from their rude career.
A PERILOUS RACE.
I one day saw a horse running at full speed, while the horseman, held by the lasso, was dragged whirling behind the animal, unable to obtain a hold upon the ground, either with feet or hands. Trusting to his strength and skill, he had the imprudence to fasten the lasso to his waist; and, having lost his balance, was dragged after the leaping animal. Fortunately, the latter seeking refuge in the neighboring rancho, he escaped with a few bruises.
THE MULATTO.
The mulatto has a European father and a daughter of Africa for his mother. The negro women being chiefly taken to agricultural districts, or the centres of commerce, that is, near the sea-coast or rivers, it follows that the mulatto is rather the product of towns and the coast than of the interior. Being generally free, he is put to such duties as are considered too laborious for the indolence of the Indian, too elevated for the depraved intelligence of the negro slave, and too servile for the dignity of the white. He therefore becomes, according to his aptitude and the duties required, a carpenter, blacksmith, tailor, mason, herdsman, soldier, etc. If he is the descendant of a rich father, and has received a some education, he engages in commerce, or joins the clergy, the medical profession, the magistracy, and even sits in Congress. He then loses his proper character, and you no longer behold him, except as a more or less irreproachable gentleman; for it cannot be denied that there is always a large dose of astuteness in these compound natures.
INDUSTRIAL PREFERENCES OF THE MULATTO
Like his neighbor the mameluco, the mulatto, when left to himself, has an irresistible penchant for mules and horses. He is the proprietor of vendas on the roads, and the guide of travellers, and is found in all kindred occupations. Upon the plantation he becomes an overseer of negroes, a mule-trainer, or an arreador. The latter name is given to the chiefs of caravans, which periodically carry the products of the interior—cotton, sugar, coffee, etc.—across the mountains to the nearest port. To give an exact idea of these, I cannot do better than to quote the description of a countryman, whom I have already cited on the subject of the religious belief of the Indians, and who visited several parts of Brazil with me:
THE CARAVAN OR TROPA.
'Before quitting the inn at Iguassú, where there was a swarm of young mulattoes, it was our fortune to witness the passage of one of those long trains of Ioaded mules called tropas.
THE MULE-LEADER.
'The mule-leader, which led the train and kept at its head, was decked with a plume, a bell, and a rich harness. Upon the head-band was a large silver plate, bearing the name of the proprietor's house; but the handsome animal, thanks ​to the arrobas, no doubt, did not seem too conscious of the honor; and I have seen many generals and drum-majors who were unable to maintain, beneath their uniforms, the proud calmness and tranquil of our queen mule. The others follow in a line or in little squads, according to the condition of the roads, but always with a steady, regular step. It was the order of free discipline without brutality, without the lash, and almost without command.
LEAVING THE FAZENDA.
'They leave the fazendas loaded and divided into eight, ten, or twelve sections, which, taken together, constitute what is called a troop. Each section is composed of seven mules, under the care of a negro, who looks after them, and is called a tocador, or driver. The chief of the troop is the arreador, a free man, possessing the confidence of the master, and charged with the responsibility of the journey. He is at once treasurer, chief, and veterinary. Sometimes he has, as a staff, two or three dogs, who keep watch at night during the halts; but most frequently he is alone.
'The first few hours after departure are painful and difficult. It is necessary to adjust the faultily arranged loads, check trotting freaks, readjust chafing saddles, etc. It is a little world setting out on a journey; and this world of mules has, like many others, its caprices and whims.
THE HALT.
'But when the first halt is made at a rancho, every thing is in order. The seven mules of the first section advance toward the arreador and are unloaded without taking off their harness. Then comes the second group; and the whole caravan thus files by, section by section, leaving on the ground, beneath the shed, its packages of coffee, which are stowed away in symmetrical order. For half an hour the mules, unburdened and free are allowed to crop the fresh grass and enjoy relief; and, in the mean time, the black tocadores also rest themselves. One, however, remains on duty, who gathers green or dry wood, and cooks the feijão.
'After this short siesta in the sun or under the shed, the mules are brought up, and the harnesses are taken off, under the close inspection of the arreador, who examines each animal, marks the cangalha or pack-saddles of those that are chafed, and sends them all to the pasto, or pasture. Now is the time for repairing the pack-saddles and attending to the repast of the tocadores.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE NIGHT.
'About four o'clock in the afternoon the arreador again sends for the mules, which pass in file before him for a minute inspection of their shoes, harness, and chafes. Then they bandage, burn, shoe, and feed with millet, and the mules are again sent to the pasto. But there must be no favorite, no privileged animal for this prebend of millet; it must not be distributed to one before another, or there would be a revolution at the rancho—kicking, biting, and a regular tumult of barracks in revolt.
RETIRING TO REST.
'The mules being gone, and the night-fires lighted, the arreador takes his meal by himself. Then he stretches himself upon a hide between two walls of packages, which form a sort of alcove, while the blacks lie down, here and there, beneath the rancho, or perhaps in some neighboring bushes, and silence prevails in the camp.'
AT THE MARKET.
Having arrived at its destination, the caravan-manager, or arreador, disposes of his merchandise, taking in exchange articles necessary to the fazenda, such as salt, oil, flour, wine, carne seca, dried codfish, etc., and sets out on his return.
THE RETURN.
The arreador must now redouble his vigilance to prevent the negroes from ​breaking open the packages and pilfering the goods. Wine and carne seca are the principal objects of their desires, and it is seldom that, with all the watchfulness of the arreador, one of these convoys returns to the plantation intact.
BAD ROADS.
But these petty thefts are trifles compared with the anxieties felt for the mules in the stormy season, when the ground is soaked by long rains, which wash out deep gullies and render the roads impracticable. After an hour's travel the caravan presents a most pitiful aspect. The animals go hobbling along, panting for breath constantly plunging their half-shod feet into deep holes full of tenacious clay, till, at last one of them sinks down, never to rise again. The tocador shouts, the train halts, and the arraedor comes up and gives his orders. The animal is unloaded, a lasso slipped around his neck, and the negroes seize the rope and tug away, while the chief urges the poor beast with vigorous application of the lash. After half an hour of useless effort and shouting, the arreador at last abandons the almost dead mule and continues his journey. In order not to lose the eight arrobas (two hundred and fifty-six pounds) of coffee with which the animal was loaded, and which represents a value of forty milreis, (twenty dollars,) he orders the negroes to distribute it among the loads of the sound mules. The latter, instinctively feeling that an increase of burden is a poor means of helping them forward, gather their forces, and launch a shower of kicks at the negroes before they submit. Meanwhile, the journey is resumed. New gullies soon present themselves, and another mule shortly drops down. The fruitless efforts to get him up are renewed, and new additions allotted to the load of the surviving mules; but this time, knowing that it is a question of life and death with them, they offer such a lively resistance that they compel the tocadores to keep away, and await a more favorable moment for the application of their curious mechanical principles. It is then decided to leave the sacks of coffee where they are, and they are soon invaded by the myriad of rodent animals that swarm in the Brazilian forests, and that feed upon the contents of the sacks, while the urubus (vultures) devour the dead mule.
CARAVANS ON THE SERRA DO MAR.
I remember having witnessed the descent of one of these caravans in the Serra do Mar, a maritime range separating the waters of the Parahyba from the sea-coast. This region is much traversed by caravans of mules, taking the products of the interior to the capital. It was just after the heavy summer rains. The road was marked on both declivities of the mountain by an uninterrupted succession of debris of every kind, and especially by such a prodigious quantity of horse-shoes, that whole regiments of cavalry might be shod with them. Here and there we saw an ox abandoned on the road, or the carcass of a mule emitting an intolerable stench and covered with vultures, which seemed in nowise disturbed at our approach, so conscious were they of the utility of their work.
THE TROPEIRO'S MISFORTUNE.
Having reached the summit of the Serra, I encountered a tropeiro, who appeared very unhappy, and who told me of his misfortunes. He had started with an hundred oxen to get four sugar-boilers. He was overtaken by a storm on the journey, and was only able to gain the top of the mountain by the sacrifice of half of his cattle; he was now obliged to wait till his tocadores, whom he had sent ahead, should bring him fifty more, in order to continue his journey. This example may enable one to estimate the fearful waste of beasts of burden that annually occurs in the fazendas of Brazil. Hence every estate has a stock of young mules, which are trained up by peones. These animals generally come from the southern provinces.
THE CABOCLO.
The caboclos, the third group of the people of color, are not numerous in the towns on the coast. They are the issue of the two vanquished and proscribed races, the negro and the Indian. They are chiefly met with in the interior, on the limits of the forests, which serve them at the same time as a refuge from their persecutors and a shelter for their idleness. The African element is generally represented by the father. The Indian is too proud of his red-skin superiority to approach a negress; but, on the other hand, the Indian women voluntarily leave their copper-colored husbands to go with negroes. The occupations of the caboclos are almost the same as those of the half-civilised Indians, with whom they are mingled. They gather sarsaparilla, caoutchouc, and vanilla, and manufacture pottery which is not destitute of elegance, though rather too suggestive of the primitive races. The caboclos of Para have even attained some renown in this species of industry. They some times produce effects of inimitable grotesqueness with their black clay intersected with red bandlets. I noticed that these mestizo artists had a preference for reproducing the form of the alligator, which is the animal most feared in the country.
IDLENESS OF THE COLORED RACES.
The caboclos who live in the towns, or in the neighborhood of the plantations, become laborers or domestics; but these lazzaroni of the New World will work only under the sting of hunger. This, unfortunately, is a reproach applicable to all people of color, and who ever leaves a rancho, after seeing the mulatto by the side of the negro and the Indian, never inquires but with sadness which of these three types can most profitably assist in working the virgin soil of Brazil.
Our answer to this question may have been easily surmised. The Indian, as has been seen, plunges further and further into his ancestral forest, in his dislike for civilization, which has only brought him evil. The black submits with difficulty, his existence crushed beneath the wheels of that relentless machine called production. The caboclo, the hybrid issue of wild tribes, inherits only their indolence and their inaptitude for active and profitable labor. There remain, then, the mameluco and the mulatto, who have drawn from Portuguese blood some germs of that feverish activity which made their forefathers so celebrated in the annals of navigation. Unfortunately, they are far from being, by themselves, adequate to the task. The maxim of dolce far niente, imported by their fathers, is too much of in accord with the mildness of the climate and the fertility of the soil, and suits their indolent and sensual nature too well for them not to make it their unique law. Besides, of what advantage is industry to them without an outlet, without roads, without employments? The most enterprising of them, or those who live in the vicinity of the Rio de la Plata, are only acquainted with horses and cattle. A rancho and a certain amount of pasturage suffices for them. Their brethren of Para, enervated by the warm atmosphere that envelopes them, are not very distinguishable from the Indian. They pass their time in sleeping or bathing. It is only by a constant infusion of European blood, by impressing industry upon their minds and habits, and finally by the vivifying effect which the railroad produces everywhere on its advent, that civilization will pursue its conquests and take possession of those immense areas as yet subject only to the powers of nature. Under these latter conditions only can the man of color play a useful part, and assist in the progress of colonization.
CHAPTER FOURTH.
THE FAZENDA.
To pass from the rancho to the fazenda is to enter into full creole life, after witnessing the wretchedness of savage existence. The traveller who would ​thoroughly acquaint himself with Brazilian manners must not shrink from fatigue; he must renounce the observation of a society at Bahia and Pernambuco differing but little from that at Lisbon. If he would feel himself really in Brazil, he must bestride a mule, face the picadas (paths) of the forests, and seek the creoles in the fazenda, where ancient customs have been preserved intact.
What is the fazenda? It is a vast extent of land planted with sugar-cane or coffee-plants, the central portion of which is occupied by a large rectangle of white buildings. The side reserved for the senhor or master, is distinguished by its regular architecture and a piazza, The beams that support the roof project several feet beyond the exterior wall, forming on the northern façade a varanda from whence the fazendeiro can observe, sheltered from sun and rain, all that is going on in the extended fields. Here the members of the household come, to enjoy the fresh morning odors or the soft evening breeze. Two or three little negroes, playing with a tame macaco, (monkey,) and several chattering parrots with blue plumage, enliven this peristyle with their frolic and their cries. Opposite extends a succession of large storehouses, to receive the harvest. At one of the angles stand the cylinders used for bruising the cane-stalks, or the machine for shelling grain. These machines are operated by a large wooden water wheel. The two other sides of the quadrangle, built of clay, contain the dwellings of the negroes and feitors. The large court in the centre is used for drying coffee, millet, cotton, etc. It is entered by two wooden doors, which separate the habitation of the master from that of the slaves. Only the store houses and the dwelling of the senhor have a floor, which is built a few feet above the ground, as a precaution against the floods of the solstices, None of the buildings have more than one story; the warm temperature of the country easily accounts for the aversion of the creoles to upper stories.
Behind the fazenda, and at some little distance, according to the arrangement of the place, are found the rancho, the garden, the infirmary, and the various parks set apart for cattle, sheep, and hogs. To each of these sections is attached a man of color or a trusted negro; and here and there amid the bushes, in the pasture, or on the roadside, are seen the huts of the agregados, built against a tree.
AGREGADO
is the name given to slaves that have been set free by wealthy fazendeiros in their will, either from tradition or as a reward for long service, or from a remembrance of the pontifical bulls. Most generally these people, enervated by servitude, especially when their liberty comes late, forthwith settle into complete inactivity, under the pretext of reposing from their long labors. Seeking retirement in some nook of the forest, always on the estate of their former master, they construct a hut of a few sticks and some clay, sow a little feijão and millet around their habitation, and pass the remainder of the year in that absolute repose of which they have dreamed all their lives as the ideal of human felicity. Their children, brought up in perfect liberty, naturally consider themselves the proprietors of the soil, and when the fazendeiro desires to clear his land, he is generally obliged to resort to force to dislodge his tenants. This life of indolence is the only one that a former slave seems capable of leading. The negro and the Indian never look ahead; and the mulatto, brutified from infancy, follows their example. The most enterprising content themselves with raising pigs or poultry, but it is seldom that these objects of their care profit them, on account of the wild-cats, (gatos do matto.) Sometimes, however, the germs of the white man's activity which lurk in their blood be come manifest; but the employments ​to which they devote themselves are naturally of a primitive and childish character. There are two of these, however, which especially struck me, and of which I shall speak hereafter—those of the sorcerer (feticeiro) and the ant-destroyer, (formigueiro.)
BEAUTIFUL LANDSCAPE.
Fields of coffee-plants, sugar-cane, or cotton, and rich pasture-grounds extend around the fazenda for the space of several square leagues. Beyond these are large belts of forest never yet infringed upon. These forests are traversed by paths or picadas, which commonly, and especially in the stormy season, are nothing but a mass of deep holes, muddy gullies, fallen trees, and beds of dust. But what splendor of landscape! What harmonious skies! Now half-wild herds of mules or cattle meet the eye upon abandoned plantations transformed into pastures, (pastos;) now oases of verdure, sheltered from the sun's rays by the vaulting branches of the trees, the sweet odors of which fill you with delight. Above your head little monkeys frolic on the llianas with cunning grimaces, whilst beneath the sombre green of the leaves myriads of birds with gay plumage sing their joys, their booty, or their love. At intervals an araponga, perched upon an old trunk stricken by time or storms, drowns all this music with his sonorous notes. This wild and virgin nature, which only a few years ago might be contemplated at the very threshold of Bahia and Rio Janeiro, day by day recedes. Coffee feeds upon the soil, and, like the Indian and the jaguar, the forest disappears before the colonist and civilization.
CLEARING THE GROUND.
The method of preparing the ground is the same for all sorts of cultivation. The wood or shrubbery that covers the land intended for culture is set on fire, If it is a virgin forest, the operation lasts sometimes for whole weeks. Frequently a storm sets in which interrupts the whole work. It is then recommenced on the following days and proceeded with till the trees have all fallen and the greater portion of them are reduced to ashes. When the work is to be done upon a declivity or hillside, trunks of trees are placed crosswise at certain distances, to prevent the rains from washing gullies in the soil. This mode of clearing, so different from our methods, and which has been so much condemned by Europeans, is the only one practicable in Brazil. The axe is powerless against its teeming growths. Its woods, rendered exceedingly hard by the enormous quantity of lignite constantly condensed from the sap in the cells of the tree, resist the best tempered tools, and would unavailingly exhaust the forces of the negro. On the other hand, there are no roads, no outlets for the profitable employment of this wealth of wood. Fire, therefore, is the only agent for disencumbering the soil. To this we may add, that the ashes thus obtained form the best fertilizer imaginable; they are, so to speak, the quintessence of the soil, prepared by the slow elaboration of ages, and returned to the common reservoir. This method, however, has its inconveniences. Frequently, especially if a wind spring up, the fire extends to the neighboring plantation. The means employed in such cases to arrest the conflagration is worthy of notice. A gang of negroes place dry fagots at a little distance from the burning masses, in a line parallel to the field they wish to preserve, and apply the torch. The air between the two fires, rapidly becoming hot and rarified, rises and leaves a void, which, drawing in the flames, prevents them from extending further in the opposite direction.
UNHEALTINNESS OF BURNING FORESTS.
Effects of another kind are produced on the men themselves, and the vicinity of burnt forests has a pernicious influence on delicate constitutions. The clouds of gas, disengaged by the fire for weeks over an immense extent of ​territory, become seriously oppressive to the chest and affect the lungs. On my first horseback ride into the mountains around Rio Janeiro, the air towards the middle of the day's ride seemed heavier than it had been upon the margin of the bay, though the contrary should have been the case, since I was up in the midst of the mountains. At the same time the sky seemed less limpid, and a reddish horizon had taken the place of the azure. At first I attributed this effect to fatigue of the organs. But a certain oppression that made the breath laborious soon made me aware that there was something abnormal in the atmosphere. At length, at a turn in the road, finding myself opposite the sun, I looked steadily at it; it was no longer the dazzling orb of the tropics, floating in vapors of purple and gold, but a sombre red disk lost in a wintry mist. My astonishment redoubled. Profiting by a halt, which the guide made to adjust the baggage, I pointed out to him the object of my thoughts. 'He queimada,' (it is a fire,) he instantly replied with the brevity characteristic of the Portuguese. I was still puzzled to know how a fire that I was unable to see could at this point obscure the sun and render the atmosphere so oppressive. A few moments later, on reaching the summit of a hill where the plants, not being much grown, permitted us to see to a distance, the enigma was solved. It was not simply a fire, but hundreds of fires, visible in every part of the horizon. The Southern spring-time was drawing near, and the fazendeiros were hastening to burn over the forests and wild lands that were to be put under culture. The slightest shower sufficed to dissolve or carry off the gas with which these fires had filled the air; but I have sometimes known whole weeks to pass by without rain, during the height of the burnings, and though the heat was not at the time excessive, I must say that it was during such periods that I suffered most in Brazil. The burnings generally last six weeks or two months. Beginning in July or August, according to the latitude, these burnings end in the course of September or October, in order to have time to plant and sow before the rainy season.
AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS—COFFEE
The traveller, from observing the cultivated fields through which he passes, can form an opinion of the varied culture of the soil before reaching the fazenda. The coffee-plants, sugar-cane, and cotton-fields successively attract his attention.
The most important culture of Brazil is undoubtedly that of the coffee-plant. This shrub never grows very tall. The leaves resemble those of the laurel, though smaller and more separated. The plants are arranged in rows along the hills, the same as vineyards on the hillsides of France, only not so near together. The coffee-plant does not become productive until some four or five years old. At the end of about twenty years, the sap becomes exhausted; but if the branches are trimmed, renewed vigor is imparted to the trunk, and an other ten years of harvest may be obtained. The flowers of the coffee-plant are white, with five petals, and disposed in clusters. The fruit, when it begins to ripen, resembles a small red cherry. The taste of the envelope is not unpleasant. When it begins to grow dark, the grains are ripe and the harvest is gathered. As fast as the berries are taken from the plant, they are spread upon a platform which is generally built in front of the house. Here the sun dries the grains and completes the darkening of the envelope. After several days' exposure in the open air, the berries are subjected to the action of wooden pestles, which are moved by water-power. Each berry contains two seeds, lying with their flat surfaces together and kept in place by the envelope. The backward and forward movement of the pestles readily separates the seeds from the pericarp, and nothing remains but to pass them through a sieve. The ​largest and ripest grains are put aside and reserved for the use of the fazendeiro. Three or four years of storage give them a strength and aroma of which Europeans have no idea. The chief occupation of the negroes between seedtime and harvest is weeding the plantations. One must have lived in the tropics to form any conception of the rapidity and strength of growth which vegetation acquires there in the rainy season, when water, sunshine, and electricity are everywhere in profusion. Sugar, coffee, and cotton would be quickly choked by weeds (capim) if the latter were not at ones destroyed.
Coffee-culture exhausts the soil. Fields that have been used as a coffee plantation for twenty or thirty years are rendered entirely useless for the purposes of agriculture. It is necessary to seek a soil into which another primeval forest has drawn the elements of vegetation from the bowels of the earth. I have seen old coffee-plantations which had been abandoned, according to the inhabitants, for many years. Nothing was visible to the eye but hills with barren summits, with scarcely a trace of vegetation—a strange phenomenon in a country where sap seems to start from stone itself. The rains, unchecked by any obstacle, had carried away the arable soil and left the rocks bare. The valleys, it is true, profited by this detritus. There vegetation, finding a barrier to retain moisture, grows up rapidly, gradually gains the foot of the hill, and gives indications of some day reconquering it. Thus, in a long succession of ages, have been formed and are still forming the forests that cover the granite mountains.
SUGAR-PLANTATIONS.
The sugar plantations are more easily recognizable than those devoted to the coffee-culture; they resemble to a deceptive degree large fields of reeds. The size of the cane varies according to the altitude of the ground, or rather according to the quantity of water and sunlight it receives. I have often seen, on the plateaux of the interior, what the natives call manaco cane, or monkey cane. This is the indigenous cane, and it generally appeared to me about the size of an ordinary reed; though some species, in the low, moist regions, attained gigantic proportions. The mode of culture varies according to locality. In some places cuttings are made annually on the same fields for several years in succession, while in others only one or two are practised.
SUGAR MAKING.
The manufacture of sugar is too well known for me to enter into long details on the subject. When the canes are cut, they are immediately taken to the mill and crushed. The juice, of a greenish color, is conducted through a gutter into a series of boilers, where it is gradually concentrated. The people of the country attribute to this liquor a host of curative properties, and regale themselves with it freely. The blacks especially make large use of it, but they find it most convenient to tear the cane with their teeth. The liquor thus obtained has a fresh sugary savor, while the juice that comes from the mill, containing all the moisture of the stalk, leaves in the mouth an herbaceous after-taste. A few pints of lye from the ashes of certain plants rich in potash carry off the greater part of these matters, and the rest is afterwards eliminated by clarification.
When the action of the fire begins to manifest itself, a slave stationed before the last boiler carefully watches the color of the liquor and the different degrees of consistence. Long practice serves him instead of an aērometer. When the juice has turned to syrup, he takes it out and pours it into tubs where it is cooled. The sugar is made; it first appears in little reddish grains. Nothing further remains but to clarify and dry it. The residue of the liquor, called melasse or molasses, affords by distillation the liquor called cachaça, that ​nectar of the negro, the Indian, and many whites. This cachaça, after remaining several months in casks made of certain kinds of wood, loses its wild, taste and becomes a liquor which experts place in the same rank with the famous Jamaica rum.
The sugar-culture requires more hands and more labor than that of coffee; but it is more productive, since spirituous liquors have attained such high prices, It has nevertheless its inconveniences. When the season is too rainy, the sap, supercharged with water, is not readily concentrated, and requires very long boiling. In dry years the cane yields but little—nevertheless, always yields a product, even in the most unfavorable seasons, while coffee may entirely fail. Notwithstanding this great risk, small proprietors cultivate coffee in preference. The harvest presents no difficulty. If they have no machine for shelling it, they take it to their neighbor. The establishment and maintenance of a sugar-plantation, on the contrary, requires heavy advances, which only the wealthy planters are able to make.
COTTON.
The cotton-culture in Brazil does not date far back, and except in some localities is not much practised. Perhaps the civil war which afflicts the United States (1863) will give it a decided impulsion. This culture, which is as simple as that of coffee, requires less care. Nothing is more picturesque than a field of cotton-plants in flower. The plant is not in general very tall, the branches of some species, indeed, trailing upon the ground. But when the bud opens to the warm breath of spring, the fields are spangled with great yellow petals that resemble so many butterflies feeding on the honey of the calices. At the end of a few weeks these flowers close, while others are developed. The product ripens in the sun's rays and the precious fleece is formed. The calyx soon opens a second time, displaying those silky bolls that are the admiration of the stranger and the joy of the plantation. At nightfall, when after a soorching day the wide-open husk lets its white tufts fall in long clusters, and the sea-breezes agitate the foliage of the plant, the spectacle is indescribable. At the sight of these gay clusters of fleece, fluttering with the least breath of air, now half concealing themselves and now proudly displaying their incomparable whiteness, one would imagine an immense bouquet agitated by invisible hands.
NO BREAD.
Brazilian agriculture may be summed up in three terms—sugar, coffee, cotton. Grain never appears in the the form of bread except upon the tables of the rich and of Europeans. The poorer classes and the inhabitants of the interior know it only by name. Its place is supplied by manioc, rice, maize, and feijão, (haricots.) As for the other products of the tropics, vanilla, clove, cinnamon, cocoa, caoutchoue, sarsaparilla, etc., they are collected by Indians in the forests where nature happens to yield them, and by them are brought to Portuguese stations, at certain periods, and exchanged for garments, arms, or cachaça.
* ↑ The bolas are the leaden balls that terminate the lasso.
* ↑ Iguassú is on the road from Rio Janeiro to the province of Minas Geraẽs.
* ↑ A Brazilian measure of weight; about thirty-two pounds.