# The Knickerbocker/Volume 64/Number 2/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 FIFTH.
LIFE ON THE PLANTATION.
Being thus acquainted with the agricultural resources of Brazil, let us penetrate the fazenda, and observe, in the first place, the life of the planter. This life is an active one for a proprietor, who has decided to attend to his own affairs. At daybreak he rises, mounts his horse, and, attended by a domestic, avails himself of the coolness of the morning to inspect the work of the negroes and visit his grounds. Sometimes he has to repair a bridge carried away by a storm, to make a new road through the forest, to change a pasto or set a machine in operation.
BREAKFAST.
Returning about nine o'clock he hastily arranges his toilet, and passing through the varanda, on the way to breakfast, takes with him all the guests whom the chances of the road have brought together during the morning—hunters, colporteurs, muleteers, etc. The travellers who arrive from the cidade bring the news of the day; and hunting, the ministry, the constitution, mules, negroes, every thing is a topic for discussion. The meal being ended, each takes a wooden tooth-pick, (palhito,) and returns to the verandah, and the negroes bring out the coffee. Gradually, silence prevails through the house, the strangers' mules are brought, and they continue their journey. The fazendoiro takes advantage of this opportunity to continue his inspection, if any thing outside demands his attention. If not, he returns into the house and takes a siesta, reads the newspapers, hears the reports of the feitors, and attends to his correspondence.
DINNER.
At three o'clock the table is again spread. The personnel of the guests has undergone some changes. Instead of the colporteur, there figures some city gentleman, who, by order of his physician, has come to stay in the country till the hot weather is over. A family of emigrants have come to ask the hospitality of the posada for the night. With guests of so different origin, conversation cannot languish. The time thus passes till the heat of the sun be gins to diminish. About four or five o'clock they all go out to inhale the evening breeze; the business of the day is over; it is prolonged only for the negroes.
TEA.
At nightfall tea is served. All travellers, overtaken by dusk in the vicinity ​of the fazenda, are invited to partake. It be the hour of be conversation. Frequently cards are brought out, and then sleep in completely forgotten. But, in ordinary life, the creole goes to bed early and rises early. This rule is a salutary one in the tropics.
HUNTING.
Certain days are allotted to hunting. A superintendent is then charged with looking after the negroes. The forest abounds with deer and game of every kind, and the planter has neither gamekeepers nor the season to fear. Hence there is constant, hunt of the bear, tapir, and wild ox in these immense forests. Those hunts lasting sometimes for several days, a halt is made for breakfast at the first fazenda found on the road. Having finished his meal, the planter remounts his horse, and scours the woods the rest of the day, and seeks repose a few leagues further on at another plantation. If he has penetrated far into the forest, away from habitations, his negroes roast him an agouti, (a species of hare very common in South-America,) or cook a palm-cabbage in a bamboo warming-pan; they then construct a rancho with branches of trees, make a bed of dry leaves, surround it with mule-saddles, which serve as a protection, and then station themselves around a large fire to guard the senhor, who sleeps enveloped in his cloak. If they hear an animal approaching, they fire a gun in the direction of the noise imagining it to be a jaguar, and sometimes kill their own mules, which are feeding near them. Sometimes, too, in cold nights, the sleepers suddenly awake to shake a cobra (а poisonous snake) from their garments, which had sought to glide beneath the covering to warm itself.
VENEMOUS REPTILES.
These hunts are not always unattended with danger. I remember having seen an enormous jaracotinga, a trigonocephalus of the most venomous kind, dart upon the dogs, no doubt to avenge himself for having been disturbed in his repose. Four of these animals were bitten in succession. The first instantly expired, as if struck by lightning; the second lived an hour in dreadful agony, and the third survived till the next day. The fourth alone escaped the effects of the bite; the hideous reptile had exhausted his venom on the first three.
THE JAGUAR.
Sometimes a wounded jaguar turns upon the imprudent hunter. This animal, fortunately, is becoming more and more rare on the large plantations. He flies from the neighborhood of man, that implacable destroyer of the forests which served as his retreat. Should he chance, however, to reveal his presence by the successive disappearance of several head of cattle, a hunt is quickly organized, which is generally productive of more noise than effect; for, to find a genuine jaguar-hunter, one must go to the campos of the south, among the gaucho.
The gaucho has no need of the rifle. His horse and his bolas suffice him. As soon as he hears or sees a jaguar, he starts towards him at a gallop. The jaguar halts, astonished at such audacity. Having approached within a few paces, the horseman throws his redoubtable lasso, and, immediately wheeling about, darts away at the full speed of his horse. A fearful roaring, and the violent jerks of the lasso, tell him his aim was sure, and that the choking animal is struggling with the agonizing gripe. When the cries have ceased, the hunter alights, and, drawing his dagger from his girdle, dispatches the victim.
VISITING—TRAVELLING FOR PLEASURE.
When the planter is not disposed to hunt, he journeys for diversion or visits among his neighbors. The extravagance he displays on these occasions is not without a certain impress of elegance and originality. Not being able to traverse the forest-paths with a carriage, he always travels on horseback, or upon ​a richly caparisoned mule. The senhoras themselves have no other mode of riding. A troop of horsemen of every color attends to do honor to the senhor. Two of the principal men, performing the functions of squires, wear the livery of the house. The more numerous the escort, and the more dust it raises, the higher the idea formed of the visitor's importance.
A FAMILY ON THE ROAD.
Sometimes, however, the travelling party is reduced to much more simple proportions. I met one day, in one of my excursions, a family proceeding from the province of Minas to that of Saint Paul. A strong, robust negress led the way, carrying in a cradle upon her head a child but a few months old, which she herself nursed, and which only a light linen cover protected from the scorching tropical heat. Next came an old negro, bending under the weight of an immense basket, in which were seen mingled pell-mell all the utensils of the household. With one hand he steadied his burden, while with the other he led, by a halter, a mule, whose sides were beaten by a sort of double cage resembling a pair of window-shutters. Through the bars of one of these I saw the figure of a child opposite a small monkey. In the second was another child, and before him a magnificent parrot, with an enormous beak, red plumage, and blue feathers in the wings and tail. The bottom of these two cages served as trunks, and contained the wardrobe of the travellers. The head of the family, with his wife mounted behind him, kept his eye on the movements of the turbulent house hold. An enormous parasol protected the couple from the furious heat of the sun. A dog that followed on foot made up the escort.
I stopped to let the caravan pass by, for it is almost impossible to travel two abreast in the paths of the American forests. As the monkey passed by me be caught a glimpse of some biscuits (tosca) in my wide boots, where, like all travellers in the wilderness, I kept my provisions; and, stretching his arms through the bars of his cage, dexterously secured two of them. His companion, thinking one would suffice for him, attempted to pull the other from his hands for his own benefit. The quadrumana, little familiar with evangelical doctrines, defended his property by showing his teeth. The parrot, perceiving with his large restless eye that his neighbors were having a feast, also desired his share, and began screeching and flapping his wings to attract attention. Either from fear or temptation the other child commenced to cry, and the disorder became supreme. I was obliged to put an end to the tumult to alight and distribute all my biscuit.
'He gente pequena,' (these are small people,) said my guide, after we had passed on a little.
'How do you know that?'
'O senhor! there is no mistaking them. If they were rich people they would take with them a great many slaves and mules as an escort; and they would not let their children suffer with hunger, as well as those poor animals which they had better left to God's care in the forest; and you would not have been robbed by that rascal of a monkey.'
TRANSPORTING INVALIDS.
When a senhora cannot bear horseback riding, other expedients are resorted to. Sometimes recourse is had to a cart drawn by six pairs of cattle, and sometimes a litter is used, borne by two mules, one of which, harnessed in the usual way, goes in advance; while the other, which is behind, almost touches the senhora's back with his head. But as the holes in the roads make jolting inevitable, it is preferred, when a sick person is to be transported, to make use of a hammock suspended to a strong pole, which two robust negroes carry upon their shoulders. If the journey is a long one, the litter is accompanied by a squad of slaves, who relieve each other.
CARD-PLAYING.
The creole frequently goes to play cards with his neighbor, under the pretext of making a visit. Play is the dominant passion of the South-Americans. Gaming often absorbs their incomes, to the great detriment of the roads, canals, railroads, and, in a word, the prosperity of the country.
LOTTERIES—THE BILHETEIRO.
One of the varieties of gaming is the lottery that leprosy bequeathed to the New World by the conquistadores, and which is represented by the bilheteiro.
The bilheteiro, or ticket-dealer, is a young man; in fact, only a young man would be equal to the exigencies of such an arduous vocation. As soon as a lottery is organized, the bilheteiro mounts his horse, and travels by night and day, in summer and winter, supporting the fiery rays of the sun and the glacial chill of a pouring rain in the same day's travel, and scarcely halts for several consecutive weeks, except for a few minutes to offer his tickets and refresh himself with a little rice or feijão. It might be said that a good share of the money of the country is swallowed up in his portfolio. When he appears at the door of a house, all press around him as if he were the dispenser of good fortune. They inquire the name of the lucky winner in the last lottery, and hasten to secure new tickets. These being exhausted, he returns to the town, draws the lottery, and forthwith sets out upon a new expedition. Such a life wears him out rapidly. He dies at a premature age, racked with rheumatic pains, his legs tormented by elephantiasis, too frequently the result of his excessive fatigues and disregard of the laws of health. The believers in retribution on earth might see in this early death the just punishment of the bilheteiro's misdeeds, who keeps open a veritable moral ulcer in the country; but his career, to speak the truth, does not always end so sadly. Traversing all the estates for fifty leagues around, he takes note, in passing, of the rich mulatto women and of the widows of a certain age, who cannot pretend to the noble heirs of the fazendeiros. He selects the one who seems best adapted to him, endeavors to captivate her by attractive manners, gives up his profession as soon as he is married, and becomes a planter. Unfortunately for him, his marriage is also a lottery, the tickets of which are much contested for.
THE FEITOR.
In spite of the vigilance of the master, a plantation, whatever its importance, could not subsist, were it not for a personage whose title we have already frequently mentioned—the feitor. The feitor is the confidential man of the fazendeiro, and the terror of the slave. A hybrid being, he reminds one, at the same time, of an adjutant of barracks and the guard of a prison-gang. Springing from the conquistador and the negro, he has inherited the ferocity of the one and the animality of the other. Hence he performs his duties with a quiet conscience and without remorse. At the first light of day he sounds the reveille, calls the roll of the men, and takes them to their work. He has for lieutenant another mulatto, darker than himself, who oversees the slaves in his absence, and performs the part of executioner when a negro has rendered himself amenable to disciplinary punishment. A long whip in his hand, and a large wooden rod in his belt, are the insignia of his position. While he supervises the work, the feitor mounts a horse, visits the other plantations, returns and makes his report to the fazendeiro. After breakfast he goes back to the fields to see that every thing is in order, and reposes beneath a rancho when the sun is too hot, and his duty does not call him elsewhere. If the day seems to pass away too slowly, he returns to the field, casts a wild eye around on the black herd, whose forms are relieved by labor and perspiration, beckons to a woman who attracts his attention, and again retires to the ​rancho. The interview is short; the slave is an especial instrument of labor, and the whims of the feitor must not turn to the detriment of his master. At nightfall he gives the signal for return, calls the roll again, reconducts the negroes to the habitation, and goes to make his nightly report.
This thankless duty is poorly paid for; but many of the feitors prefer their position to that of judge of the district, or comarca, so skilful are they in rounding out their income by petty industries, as simple as they are lucrative.
THE VENDA.
The first and most reliable of all is the venda, in which are kept tobacco, pipes, cachaça, carne seca, bacalhão, (dried codfish,) and, in a word, all the petty articles that please the African appetite. Maize is also kept for travellers, and variegated fabrics for the negresses. It is hither that slaves and freedmen resort, in their leisure moments, to refresh their spirits and recount the news of the day. The business is done on the cash system, which prevents any chance of loss. When the negro has no money, (dinheiro,) the feitor takes coffee or maize in exchange, which are supposed to be the fruit of each Sunday's labor, which the slave performs in his little patch on his own account; but this meagre weekly labor, being inadequate to supply the daily thirst for cachaça, it often happens that the coffee brought hither came from the storehouse of the fazendeiro. The feitor, like a man who knows his business, and would make himself worthy of his master's confidence, darkens his countenance on seeing the suspicious articles arrive, and threatens the slave with the lash (chicote) and the master's displeasure, unless he tells the truth. In the presence of the inquisitive glance, the unexpected questions, and at the sight of the thongs that menace his back, the poor wretch's countenance falls, and he drops upon his knees, confesses his theft, and, with joined hands, beseeches his overseer, with inimitable groans, not to disgrace him with the senhor, and to keep the coffee as the price of his silence. While the negro is improvising, in this posture, his pathetic appeals, the feitor steps to the sack, all the while repeating his threats, lifts it two or three times, as if to take it to the fazendeiro, and, having assured himself that it is conscientiously filled, suddenly recollects that he will shortly need all his strong men to make a road through the forest, and that it is not a good time to inflict the bastinado, the almost certain result of which would be to send the sufferer to the infirmary for several days till his shoulders got well. He therefore promises the negro to keep silent under these considerations, hands him back the empty sack, and gives him a glass of liquor, before he goes away, to show his liberality.
THE ART OF MAKING A FORTUNE.
Not content with the profit he derives from the venda, the feitor also raises hogs, fowls, and especially young mules, which he has trained by his assistants, and which he afterwards sells to the fazendeiros of the neighborhood, or to passing travellers, who have left their own among the precipices of the roads. With time so well occupied, and the sobriety inherent among the creoles, he rapidly accumulates a snug sum, and some fine day he sends in his resignation as feitor. The next day he sets out in search of slaves and land for sale, buying as soon as he is suited, and becomes fazendeiro in his turn. Sometimes he attains the dignity of commendador, the object of ambition of every Portuguese.
FAITHLESS HERDSMEN.
I have said that, in the large fazendas, there were various {{lang|pt|pastos, or pastures, for cattle, sheep, and hogs, near the habitation. To each of these sections is attached a man of color or confidential negro; but if the vigilance of the master is relaxed, most of these guardians think ​more of selling the mules, which they rear on their own account, to travellers and the small proprietors of the neighborhood, than they do of performing their duty; and not unfrequently they confide the herds to their children, the better to attend to their own speculations. The latter, caring more to bathe themselves, or take their case, than to guard the animals, leave them to the care of the dogs, which last, in turn, find it more agreeable to lie in the shade of the trees. In the mean time cattle, hogs, and sheep stray where chance or their caprice leads them in these bound less pastures, falling down the precipices, getting lost in the forests, or slily stolen by the neighbors; and by and by the fazendeiro, upon reviewing his herds, is astonished to find them diminished by one half. On questioning the keeper in regard to the matter, the response in variably is, 'He peste,' 'he onça, 'he cobra'—it is disease, it is the jaguars, it is the snakes—according to the altitude of the country, the season, the nature of the pasturage, etc.
THE VIRTUES OF SAINT ANTHONY.
It must be said, however, that theft is rare among the free classes, either from a remnant of the Portuguese sense of honor, or from the fertility of the soil, which seems of itself to supply every need. But it is not so with the slave. Deprived of every thing, having some times barely sufficient to nourish him, he lays his hands upon every thing with in his reach. He ordinarily chooses the night-time for his excursions. Hence every proprietor looks upon his negroes as so many thieves. Knowing that his own vigilance and that of his feitor are often insufficient, he provides a few extra tapers, and charges his patron saint with the guardianship of his estates. This honor generally falls to the lot of Saint Anthony, the most venerated saint of Brazil. Saint Anthony, too, is believed, throughout South-America, to protect the plantations through the stormy seasons. The swine-herds, who are very numerous in some provinces, overwhelm him with responsibilities. What wonder that a roguish negro should sometimes succeed in eluding the vigilance of a saint with so much on his hands! The planter, however, continues to burn tapers for him, not withstanding these little neglects, satisfied that the evil which escapes is not an hundredth part of that which he prevents.
THE SORCERER.
If, however, the thefts grow too bold, or are renewed, other expedients are resorted to. In the first place, an attempt is made to find out the guilty party, in order to watch him more closely, and give him the bastinado. But if the suspected slave is a cunning old negro, it is necessary to resort to supernatural means. The sorcerer, or feiticeiro, of the neighborhood is then applied to. It is ordinarily a former slave, who has become free, or a half savage, half civilized Indian, who exercises this lucrative profession. During my sojourn in Brazil, a fazendeiro of the province of Minas perceived one morning that his herd of hogs had diminished considerably. Suspecting the negroes, he set a watch during the night, but without success. Not knowing what to do, he called to his assistance an old negro, formerly his slave, who possessed great renown for sorcery in the neighborhood. His strange aspect was in perfect harmony with his profession. Having recovered from a disease that had destroyed his skin in many places, the surface of his body presented only a succession of alternate black and white patches. He might be compared to a monkey disguised as a jaguar, which probably explains the surname of Onça (jaguar) that he bore in that region.
'Hear me, Onça,' said his former master; if you are really a feiticeiro, as they say, find out who steals my hogs. I know you love cachaça, and if you detect the thief I will give you enough to last a year. If you do not find him out ​prepare to leave my estates at once and go to exercise your craft elsewhere.'
'Never fear, senhor', answered the sorcerer, tranquilly. 'Onça never seeks in vain; but in order to better recognize the thief, it would be well for me first to see the slaves of the plantation, and I would like you, senhor, to send for me when they have returned from labor.'
This reply had a good effect, and reassured the fazendeiro, however skeptical he might have been in regard to magic. An hour later, the feitor, having received instructions, brought the slaves into the court-yard. As soon as they were assembled, the senhor sent for the sorcerer. As I was temporarily stopping at the fazenda, I stepped to the side of my host, in order to lose nothing of the spectacle.
At the sight of Onça, the negroes, aware of his terrible reputation, knew that some high question of justice was to be determined, and began to tremble in every limb. The magician silently passed along the ranks, stopping before each slave, and gazing at him several seconds with his large wild glassy eye. It was like a serpent fascinating his victim. His inspection being ended, he returned to the fazendeiro, who watched him step by step.
'Senhor, it is not easy to detect at first glance the ladrão you seek, for your negroes all look to me like thieves, and I believe that several of them were concerned in stealing your hogs; but I will give you a sure means of discovering them.'
Here the feiticeiro broke off, and the conversation was carried on in a low voice, and nobody at first knew what means he was proposing. I was not long in finding out, however, by what strange process of torture the sorcerer was to bring the negroes to a more or less sincere confession. Violent purgatives were to produce effects formerly obtained by instruments of the Inquisition. Unfortunately, the feitor misunderstood the sorcerer's instructions, and exceeded the dose. Writhing in convulsions, the negroes, to obtain the potion that was to calm their sufferings, vainly protested that they would make more complete revelations. Their agony was not relieved; and the frightened feitor sought the medical knowledge which he supposed I possessed as a traveller, to arrest the too rapid progress of actual poisoning. I did not see how I could improvise a remedy for all these people, far away from any assistance. I knew of nothing but the white of eggs as an antidote to poison; and how was I to find eggs on a coffee plantation? I made known my embarrassment to the feitor.
'Oh! if eggs are all that is wanted we are safe!' he instantly cried. 'Jacares, lagartos, tartarugas and passarinhos are not lacking here.'
And running, with his assistants, to the sand and bushes on the shore, he collected in a few moments a prodigious number of the eggs of alligators, lizards, tortoises, and birds, and we very soon began to administer to the perishing negroes the beaten whites of eggs, which I directed to be alternated with warm water. After the first vomiting the pains grew less excruciating and the symptoms less alarming. Reässured as to the safety of his men, the feitor returned to his purpose, and resolved to profit by the distress of his patients, to draw out their secret. Turning toward the negresses who performed the duties of nurses, he enjoined them not to administer any more of the draught except to those who made a confession. The spectacle now changed from the tragic to the burlesque.
'Senhor, a little more of the medicine, or I shall die!' screeched a negro, covered with foam and saliva.
'So, it is you, Cadrão,' answered the feitor, in a voice of thunder. 'Tell me all you have stolen, or I will let you die like a dog.'
'I only stole the pitargas (a small, slightly acid red fruit) out of the garden, and then I wasn't alone; my ​brother stole more than I did. A little medicine, if you please.'
'You have not told me all?'
'I stole, too, with my companion Antonio, half an arrobe of carns seca, the last time I went with the tropeiros, (conductors of caravans,) but that was a long time ago. A little of the remedy, senhor, or I shall die!'
'And the leitões, (young pigs,) you say nothing about them, inferno!'
'The leitões, senhor; it was not I, it was my neighbor, Coelho, who gave me a piece.'
'Ah! it was you who stole the senhor's leitões,' instantly thundered the feitor, turning to another sufferer. 'And how many did you take? Tell me with out a single lie, if you do not want a hundred lashes instead of the medicine.'
'Senhor, I never stole any but once; it was my companion Januario and his brother who stole all the rest.'
Onça had spoken the truth. The thieves were many, and he had the talent to make them confess their crime. He came the next day, with a proud air, to claim his supply of cachaça.
CHAPTER SIXTH.
THE FAZENDEIRO AND HIS DEPENDENTS.
Notwithstanding the cares of the plantation, the diversions of the chase, and the flow of strangers traversing the plantations, life is here quite monotonous, Hence, the occasion of a marriage, a birth, or any other family festival, is eagerly seized upon as a time for rejoicing. One day, finding myself on a rich plantation in the province of Minas, I was invited, by the head of the house, to be present at his anniversary, which was to be celebrated the next day. He was a grand old man, still active and inured to fatigue. After showing me the various buildings on his estate, he took me into the garden back of the mansion, where we seated ourselves upon a bench in the shadow of a thick cluster of young trees, and I soon became interested in his conversation.
'You see, senhor,' said he to me, 'all these buildings and plantations. Forty years ago there was nothing here but forests, as ancient as the world. It was I who cut the first tree and planted the first foot of coffee. I came here alone. The first few years were rude. I took my harvests to town myself like a simple tropeiro, and got slaves in exchange. Those were good times. I could get a strong robust negro for two hundred milreis, ($100,) while at present one has to pay two or three contos of reis.
The number of hands increased each year, and my crops also increased, and I now make, taking one year with another, two hundred contos of reis, ($100,000.) Moreover, my slaves are well fed and well treated; but they know they must work, and that I never joke on that subject. Hence they obey me on the first signal. Would you like an example? 'Antonio! Antonio! here!' he cried in a stentorian voice, to a negro who was hoeing a field of maize at the extremity of the garden.
At the first sound of that redoubtable voice, the poor wretch dropped his spade that he might move more quickly, and ran toward us. But at every step the plants entangled his legs, which labor and years had deprived of elasticity.
'Acá ladrão!' (here, you thief!) repeated his master in a still severer voice and with more imperative gestures; and, continuing in this tone, he exhausted on his poor slave all the imprecations of the Portuguese dictionary, so rich in epithets applied to the black man. It was enough to petrify a negro endowed with the most Christian resignation.
Thinking his last hour had come, Antonio took refuge behind me, uttering heart-rending exclamations.
'Senhor!—bencão! (benediction!)—Jesus Christo!—nhonor! (my dear sir!)—perdido! (I am lost!)—nossa Senhora!' (Holy Virgin!) etc.
His scarcely articulate ejaculations were accompanied with contortions no ​less painful. Although his words were unintelligible, I knew, by his gestures, that he was beseeching me to apadrinhar, or ask his pardon.
'Apadrinhar a scoundrel like you?' interrupted the fazendeiro. Where are your legs, you old sot? Must I whip your skin off to teach you to move? Leave instantly, or I will flay you alive! And remember, that if this gentleman had not asked your pardon, within an hour the vultures would have been picking your bones!'
'Si, Senhor,' ejaculated the trembling wretch; and getting upon his feet, and recovering his breath, he set off with all the speed that his fear of becoming food for vultures could give him.
'You see, senhor,. said my host, with an air of triumph, 'how my slaves fear me. I am none the harsher for that, but I want them to obey me.'
[TO BE CONTINUED.]