[25] On the Sanative Influence of the Climate of Madeira. By Sir James Clark. London. 1841.
[26] The fall of rain, according to Dr. Hoberdon's observations, is, on a seven years' average, 30·62 inches per annum. Dr. Mittermayr, from Heidelberg, states, on a three years' average, the rainy days to be 95 per year. Johnston, in his Physical Atlas of Natural Phenomena, states the fall of rain on an average to be 29·82 inches, and the number of rainy days 100 per annum, viz. 48 in the winter, 17 in the spring, 4 in the summer, and 31 in the autumn.
In some respects the winter is warmer at Madeira than the summer, owing to the north-westerly winds and the regular sea-breezes of that season, which keep the atmosphere continually at an even temperature; and hence the island is the favourite resort of consumptive patients during the winter season. England, which seems to possess the very unenviable privilege of furnishing to the annual mortality in Europe the most numerous contingent of phthisical patients, provides this island likewise with the greatest number of this, the most to be pitied of all classes of patients. The climate of Madeira will, however, be of little benefit in advanced and decided cases; although it seems to have a curative effect on young people in the first stage of the malady, as well as in cases where, being hereditary, its presence is merely apprehended.
The number of strangers who annually, during the winter, resort to Madeira for the benefit of their health, amounts to from 400 to 500, and the money thereby circulated in the island reaches the sum of about £30,000. The number of English alone in the year 1855 was 285. But in the winter of 1856-57, the English invalids who came to Madeira scarcely reached 100. The reason of this was another calamity, the cholera, which suddenly made its appearance in Funchal on the 4th of July, 1856. Until this epoch, the island had been spared this devastating scourge of our time. The epidemic is said to have been introduced by a detachment of Portuguese troops, which shortly before had arrived from Lisbon, where cholera was then raging. The circumstances under which this epidemic appeared in Madeira leave little doubt of the correctness of this supposition, and seem to confirm the view of Professor Pettenkofer,[27] relative to the importation of the disease by ships, and its propagation by human excrements, a theory advanced by this learned German physician in his famous work, with as much soundness as sagacity.
The first individuals attacked were four soldiers of the 1st battalion of infantry, and the first who fell a victim to the epidemic was a boatman, who had landed some of the soldiers from the steamer. He was attacked on the 7th of July, at 1 p. m., and nine hours afterwards was a corpse. A few weeks later the scourge had spread over the whole island, raging with fatal severity, in consequence of the poverty, distress, and helplessness of the inhabitants. We cannot forbear mentioning a phenomenon observed at the time of the first appearance of the pestilence by Major Dom Pedro de Azevedo, one of the most distinguished men in Funchal. According to the observations regularly made by him, during two years, with reference to the quantity of ozone[28] contained in the atmosphere, he found that, as long as the pestilence was raging, it scarcely amounted to 2, whilst, under normal circumstances, the quantity, according to the ozonometer of Schönbein, is said to reach 6 to 7.
[27] Dr. Pettenkofer's Investigations and Observations on the Spread of Cholera. Munich. 1855.
[28] Ozone, or oxygen in an allotropic condition, is found in more perceptible quantity in pure localities than in those where great quantities of putrescent substances are accumulated, as the ozone disappears by oxidation. Observations on the quantity of ozone contained in the air during an epidemic are, therefore, of great interest, because they may throw a light on the influences of the atmosphere in the propagation of certain diseases.
In the beginning of October the malady gradually began to decrease, the last case which happened on the island occurring at Funchal, on the 16th December, 1856. It appears, from official reports, that out of a population of 102,837 souls, 7041 fell victims to the epidemic; other statements, that seem not less reliable, even raise the number of fatal cases to a much larger figure. A variety of local circumstances tended to heighten the fearful violence of the epidemic: the great distress among the people, arising from the deficiency of the vintages during several years; the potato disease, which occurred in the summer of 1856, and deprived the population, whilst suffering from other calamities, of one of their most important means of sustenance; and finally, to bring misfortunes to a climax, even that source of gain was dried up which the people derived from the temporary residence of numerous wealthy families. Terrified by the reports which were in circulation as to the ravages caused by the cholera at Madeira, hundreds altered their original plan of passing the winter there, and even resident strangers, horror-stricken, left the island, which had been so suddenly converted from a paradise into a burial-ground. The loss arising from the latter cause is estimated at £20,000, an immense sum at a time when pestilence and famine were raging so fiercely. The British Government, as well as English philanthropists in general, deserve the highest praise for the liberality with which they promptly and generously hastened to the assistance of the sufferers. Soon as intelligence of the great distress arrived in London, two steamers of war, the Salamander and Hesper, with provisions, medicine, clothing, bedding, and money, were despatched to Funchal, where the former arrived on the 18th and the latter on the 31st of October, 1856. This assistance essentially contributed to the rapid extinction of the epidemic, as it sufficed to relieve the more pressing wants.[29] Considerable contributions arrived also from the United States; and, according to public statements, the relief that came from foreign countries amounted to £8895.
[29] Old chronicles report that Madeira has been visited by a pestilential disease, that raged within the years 1521 to 1535. But the cholera was never in the island before the year 1856. The yellow fever is altogether unknown.
The commerce of the island was, as a matter of course, seriously affected by such a train of calamities. The principal exports had hitherto consisted of wine, cattle, fruit, and wicker-work; the first and most important of these articles—wine—had, as already stated, all but entirely disappeared from the list for several years, the small quantities still exported being merely the remnants of old stocks.
According to custom-house registers, the entire value of the produce exported in 1851 amounted to £164,960, of which £96,950 were shipped in English, £26,500 in American, and £16,650 in Portuguese vessels. The exports of 1855 were only £95,470, and in 1855, when the wine export had entirely ceased, the value did not exceed £2400!
The imports were of a more numerous and varied description; calico, cotton and woollen goods, hardware, spices and provisions from England; timber, salt meat, and other articles from the United States; grain from the Mediterranean and the Black Sea; and sugar, coffee, oil, rice, and other colonial produce from Lisbon and the Portuguese settlements. The commerce is almost entirely in the hands of the English,[30] whose liberality during the cholera epidemic has much raised them in the estimation of the inhabitants.
[30] Three-fifths of the 50,000 tons annually imported are English manufactures.
The absence of a regular banking establishment is much felt by the trading community, particularly in times of temporary distress. Singularly enough there are few Portuguese coins to be met with, and even these are not liked by the inhabitants. The moneys chiefly in circulation are English and American gold and silver coins, French five-franc pieces, and Spanish dollars. The sailing vessels in the roads of Funchal are mostly under English and American flags. The steamers which keep up the intercourse between Europe and the Brazils call regularly at Funchal for mails and passengers,[31] and a steam-packet arrives regularly every fortnight on its way from Europe to South America.
[31] An English coal depôt has been established in Funchal since 1848.
The trade carried on under ordinary circumstances is, as we have seen, by no means inconsiderable, and by proper management might enable the people to extricate themselves from their present depressed position; but though not exactly lazy, they are entirely deficient in the energy requisite for effectively improving their condition. Whenever they have enough of yams and potatoes, they no longer think of exerting themselves or of acquiring a more comfortable or independent mode of existence. Neither in Ireland, nor in the Silesian mountains, nor even amongst the Indians in North or South America, have we witnessed such a degree of poverty and wretchedness as we beheld among the labouring classes in the mountainous districts of this island. On entering a village, shoals of haggard-looking beggars covered with rags were seen, whose features indicated their unhealthy way of living, and an utter lack of the most common necessaries of life. The calamities of the last five years have certainly contributed to this excess of misery, and a traveller who visited Madeira twenty years ago, may have carried away with him quite a different impression of its inhabitants.
The race inhabiting the island, notwithstanding some favourable exceptions, is rather unprepossessing and decrepit, owing to the elements of which it is composed. The first settlers, as already stated, belonged by no means to the better classes of Portugal, but consisted of a motley assemblage of ruffians, who came to the newly-discovered island merely in search of adventure. The admixture which afterwards took place with the black race imported from Africa, materially contributed to deteriorate the people both physically and morally. Though there is not one single pure negro in the whole island, yet the features of a considerable proportion of the inhabitants denote their African descent. In the population of Punta da Sol, a village on the west side of the island, the negro type is said to be exhibited in its strongest character.
The dress of the native is extremely simple; a pair of white trowsers, a shirt, and linen jacket, constitute the entire toilette; with a few rare exceptions we never saw shoes: but even the poorest of the poor wears a curiously-shaped small cloth cap (carapuça) of a blue colour, with red lining, terminating in an erect pointed tail, six inches long. This seems to be a remnant of a turbaned head-dress, worn formerly by the inhabitants of the African coast, with whom the first settlers, allured by the slave-trade, once carried on an active intercourse.
Many of the inhabitants of Funchal obtain their livelihood by acting as guides to strangers. The roads being very steep, and formed of pointed stones, horses of an excellent breed are used in going even short distances; however fast the visitors may gallop, the guide follows the horses on foot, to which the natives are habituated from their earliest years. This practice is undoubtedly one of the principal causes of consumptive complaints, which are more frequently met with here than might have been expected considering the climate, though bad nourishment and unhealthy dwellings may have their part in causing the prevalence of the malady. The common people are mostly lodged in small low cabins of wood or timber, thatched with straw, the only opening being the door, through which air and light are admitted. Their sleeping-places are wooden benches, covered with straw, raised only one or two feet from a ground which, during nine months of the year, is damp.
It is scarcely necessary to state that the wealthier classes offer a more pleasing aspect. They are extremely obliging, kind, and attentive towards strangers, and evidently endeavour to impress the visitor with favourable ideas of themselves and the island. To the hospitality of the Austrian Consul, as well as to Major P. A. de Azevedo and Don Juan Muniz, so deservedly celebrated for his knowledge of the flora of Madeira, the members of the Novara expedition are indebted for many a happy and delightful hour.
The population is perceptibly on the decrease. The causes are emigration to the British West Indies, and devastation by the cholera. The number of inhabitants in the two islands, in 1836, amounted to 115,446; in 1854, to 103,296; and in 1855, to only 102,183. The emigrants during the last twenty-five years (1835 to 1860) are said to have amounted to 40,000, many of whom depart secretly, in order to avoid the heavy emigration tax.
Numerous benevolent institutions indicate the charitable disposition of the inhabitants. The hospital, or Santa Casa de Misericordia, standing in a beautiful square, planted with planes and magnolias, can receive 104 patients, and is exceedingly well managed. It appears, however, rather singular that the surgical are separated from the medical cases, whilst no separation exists amongst the patients who may happen to be labouring under contagious diseases. The most frequently recurring diseases are cutaneous, a circumstance which need excite no surprise in a country where the natives pay so little attention to the cleanliness of their bodies, and where Government itself favours as it were this carelessness by levying a considerable tax upon the importation of soap! Dysentery prevails throughout the year; intermittent fever and inflammatory diseases occur more rarely; but apoplectic cases are at times very numerous. The nominal amount of the funds of the hospital is estimated at £40,000; the annual income being about £1800 sterling.
The hospital for lepers is fitted up for the reception of about forty patients, most of whom come from places in which the black has least mixed with the white race.
The workhouse, for 230 paupers, was founded in 1847 by public subscription, and has an annual income of from 3000 to 4000 piastres.
The nunnery of St. Isabel, for the reception of female orphans, was erected as early as 1726. Great care is taken of the education of the inmates, who are not permitted to leave the establishment, except in case of getting married or respectably employed.
Foundlings, of whom, in one single year, 839 were maintained by the commune of Funchal, are given out to nurse; and there has been a most singular expedient adopted, in order to prevent abuse as regards obtaining the board money, which amounts to about one piastre a month, for each. A piece of tape is put round the infant's neck, the two ends of which are fastened with a lead seal, and stamped, so that, in the event of death, it cannot be taken off and put on another child's neck. The witnessing of the process of fastening and stamping this necklace is most unpleasant, although no real pain is inflicted on the child.
In the year 1855 there existed in the entire island twelve elementary schools, attended by about 200 scholars, and likewise forty-nine Sunday schools, having about 2400 pupils. Funchal also possesses a college, with six professors and 120 students, an ecclesiastical seminary for twenty-four pupils, and a medical school, with four professors, which, however, during the year of our visit, had only seven students. Though the Government is very rigid in exacting the attendance of the children at school, yet only about a seventh part of the whole number living in the island really avail themselves of the benefit.
A hospital for the consumptive is now in course of erection, at the expense of the Empress dowager of the Brazils, as a memorial of her daughter, who, in 1853, died of this disease on the island.
There exist several public libraries and book societies at Funchal; and in several of the clubs a great many of the leading English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and German journals, are to be found. Four weekly papers, in the Portuguese language, are published at Funchal. The first newspaper ever published there was the Patriota Funchalense, the first number of which appeared on the 2nd of June, 1821.
The public buildings offer little to attract notice; the churches are insignificant, and even the cathedral, a building in the Basilica style, is in no way remarkable otherwise than by the innumerable garlands and nosegays, offerings of pious devotees, which as it were transform its interior into a fragrant temple of flowers.
That which was once a Jesuit monastery, has been now converted into a barrack, in which the whole garrison of the island, amounting to 400 men, are lodged. The daily pay of these soldiers amounts to 20 reis, or about one penny!
An ordinary dwelling-house has lately been converted into a town gaol, in which the prisoners are very humanely treated. Passers-by may have an undisturbed talk with them through the lattice-work; and once we even observed a man who had thrust his foot through the iron bars, in order to have his measure taken by one of the inmates for a pair of shoes!
The charms of beautiful walks, and a most enchanting neighbourhood, enhance the pleasantness of the climate of Funchal so much resorted to by invalids. In the interior of the town, not far from the sea-shore, splendid avenues of magnificent planes, large-flowered magnolias, and massive oaks, form delightful promenades, and afford repose and shade on numerous seats under the dense foliage of their wide-spreading branches.
Seated on a gently-ambling steed, one may reach most pleasantly the summits of those lofty mountains, which rise close to Funchal, where a balmy fragrance perfumes the air, and the eye roams with delight in all directions over scenery of the most striking description.
One of the favourite points from which such a view may be obtained in all its beauty, is the terrace in front of the church of Nossa Senhora de Monte, situated 1965 feet above the level of the sea, on a ridge of the Arrebantao mountain, reached in less than an hour by one or other of the existing conveyances; these are either horses, or hammocks and sedan-chairs, or sledges, covered with tasteful canopies, and drawn by a couple of small oxen.
Though a vehicle, reminding one so strongly of a northern winter, appears rather odd in a climate such as that of Madeira, yet its practicability and convenience is very soon perceived, when comfortably sliding away over the smooth stones of Funchal. Wheel carriages, such as used in Europe, are unknown here.
But he who has bodily strength and health enough to be able to wander through the interior of the island, will find spots which command landscapes by far more grand and sublime than that seen from Nossa Senhora de Monte. Cape San Lorenzo, with its petrified fauna;—the awe-inspiring Entroza pass, that wonderful sculpture of nature which bears so powerful a witness to the corroding action of water;—the lovely and solitary cascade of Rabacal;—the Pic Arrieiro, with its craggy rocks, offering to the geologist such a remarkable peep into the geognostical history of the island;—the numerous gigantic rocky skeletons of volcanic cones, on which the geologist is able to make the most interesting studies and investigations, just in the same manner as the anatomist on a corpse;—all these wonders of nature are calculated to awaken the reflection and excite the admiration of the beholder.
The most delightful event during our stay in the island was an excursion of several days, made to the romantic localities of the northern coast. A stately cavalcade of twenty-two horsemen set out, early on a fine June morning, from Funchal to Nossa Senhora, and from thence over the Pic Poizo, through the glens of Metade to St. Anna. After a ride of two hours, the Casa de Abrigo was reached, a small house, situated about 4500 feet above the level of the sea, erected by the Government some years ago for the shelter of travellers. From this point the path runs through a hilly country covered with heath, from which the majestic Pico Ruivo, with the fantastic forms of its rugged volcanic walls bathed in gold by the rays of the rising sun, presents a most imposing sight. On the whole route only one small miserable village, called Fayal, was passed, consisting of a few straw thatched huts, exhibiting a picture of poverty and wretchedness, which can scarcely be paralleled in any part of the habitable globe.
At last, after a ride of eight hours, we reached St. Anna, an extensive village, with a large church and some brick buildings prettily situated in flower-gardens, the most stately of which was—the inn. The good cheer and repose found here for a few hours of the night, compensated in some degree for the fatigues of the past day, and prepared us for those to be encountered on the morrow.
The frequent fogs prevalent in Madeira during the month of June, render it indispensable to start early in the morning, if the traveller wishes to enjoy the beauties of the scenery. At 2 a. m., therefore, our cavalcade set out, followed by a host of boys and porters carrying provisions and instruments for observations. Nature was still buried in sleep, the air quiet and motionless; the full moon, shedding her pallid light over sea and mountain, feebly shadowed forth the outlines of the hedges and bushes of roses, fuchsias, and hortensias, that lined the narrow path, and brought out dimly in faint relief the ghost-like white figures which, standing at the doors of their poor cabins, looked inquisitively at the riders, that were already so early on their way. The path led up to the mountains in steep and numerous windings, sometimes on soft ground through ravines, sometimes on solid basalt, or over the uneven surface of indurated lava. And when at last, emerging from deep glens, steep precipices, and rocky walls, all yet buried in the shades of night, the blue star-spangled sky burst upon us in all its beauty and grandeur, the effect was almost overpowering. A faint glimmer of light appeared on the distant horizon, masses of vapour moved over the ocean, and rising mists gathering into clouds, undulated like the surface of an agitated sea. It was only along the ridges of mountains and through the ravines, that one might glance between mist and land down to the calm boundless expanse of water at our feet.
At 4 o'clock a halt was made near a solitary hut, called Choupana, at a height of 4400 feet, when the horsemen dismounted, and left their horses behind, preferring to reach on foot the termination of their journey.
We had just climbed up some steep basalt rock and reached an open spot, when the first rays of the sun tinged the eastern sky. Beaming in all his majesty on the sharply-defined clouds that hovered beneath, they sparkled like so many ice-capped peaks of Alpine glaciers; and when the great luminary ascended higher, distributing mingled light and shade in such gradations of tint as only Nature's cunning hand can mingle, the chaotic masses of vapour assumed the appearance of gigantic islands and lofty towering mountains, whilst a chorus of feathered songsters rung cheerfully out from the depths of the wooded valleys. The path wound along a precipitous declivity, grown over with tangled Til-trees, past a group of basaltic columns, which rose isolated to a height of 40 feet above the beautiful grassy carpet that clothes the ground, and in the crevices of which an old laurel, the last of its genus at this height, had taken root. The natives call this singularly-shaped group Homem em pé, or the man standing erect.
Arrived at an open space of meadow ground, the Barreiro, or Encumiada Caixa, a gigantic rocky ridge, suddenly rises to a prodigious height, from a frightful abyss of almost fathomless depth. We now hastened across a plain covered with lava, to the rough basaltic summit of the Encumiada Alta. Safe on an eminence[32] above yawning gulfs, beneath a deep blue sky, in the brilliancy of a lovely morning sun, we abandoned ourselves to the thrilling impressions of the magnificent picture which nature here brought forth of earth, rock, and manifold vegetation. Towards the south an immense mountain ridge, with serried peaks (called Torres and Torinhas), rises to a height of 6000 feet, declining almost imperceptibly on the left hand, whilst on the right it descends abruptly in terraces, with perpendicular walls of rocks 1000 feet in height, connected by an inaccessible ridge with the imposing, stupendous, cupola-shaped summit of the Pico Ruivo. All this is disclosed to the eye within a radius of little more than two miles. Deep clefts and ravines run from the rocky crevices, and unite in a gloomy and profound abyss of 3000 feet, which forms the mouth of the ravine of Ribeiro Secco. Similiar chasms open to the right and to the left, and when they are too distant to be distinguished by the eye, dark shadows rising on the rocky walls indicate the deep crater-like basin of the Curral, and the gulfs of the Metade river, and the Ribeiro Frio. It would seem as if the whole island has, in a series of fearful convulsions, burst from a single central point in all directions; as if entire mountains had sunk into the deep, or had, by the action of torrents permeating their crevices, been converted into rubble, and carried as sand and fragments into the ocean.
[32] 5883 feet, according to the geologist's barometrical measurements.
The summits of the Torres and Torrinhas are nothing but barren naked rocks,—not a blade of grass, not a shrub, not a trace of vegetation is to be seen. At the highest points, strata nearly horizontal extend in remarkably regular layers, chiefly distinguished by the most manifold variety of colours and tints.[33] A dark grey schistus of volcanic ashes alternates with strongly-marked red, yellow, and violet layers of tufa, dross, and scoriæ, together with brown and grey conglomerates. Just as red predominates on the upper part of these Torres, green prevails on the lower. From the spot where the springs first issue out of the crevices of the basalt, everything seems covered with a dense green carpet. These are the celebrated "clefts" of Madeira, in which, even on rocks of 1000 feet high, not an inch is to be discovered bare; they afford a rich harvest to the botanist, whilst they fill the spectator with delight and admiration.
[33] The celebrated American geologist, Mr. Dana, mentions that these wild contorted masses of mountain reminded him of the crater-walls of the Kilauea at the Sandwich Islands.
Generally speaking, the scenery of Madeira does not owe its character to the grandeur or magnitude of its trees; the peculiar charm of the landscape arises more from grasses, ferns, shrubs, and different kinds of moss, all of which grow so rank and luxuriant, that the rocks, chasms, and abysses overgrown with them, appear like so many swelling cushions, or as if laid with soft velvet carpets in all directions. The different shades of green indicate the characteristics of successive zones of vegetation. Through the lower parts of the valleys run the beds of those mountain waters which, though nearly dried up in the summer, swell in the winter into torrents. Along these are scattered the straw-thatched huts of the natives, surrounded by vineyards and fields planted with rye, barley, potatoes, yams, and in the lower parts with single bananas. These cultivated lands rise to a height of 2000 feet, and in many places even to 3000. Wherever on the steep declivities there is the smallest shelf to be found, even if only a square yard in size, it is turned to account. Next to this region, in ascending, is that of the brush and laurel woods. Vaccinias (blackberries), and different kinds of heath, often attaining a growth of five or six feet, occupy the whole of the ground, and in the month of June, when the broom is in full flower, a bright golden-coloured belt girts Madeira, at a height of from 3000 to 4000 feet. We beheld this golden girdle in its richest splendour, set off by the dark masses of evergreens in the clefts. Higher up is the true region of the Erica arborea, which, with its light-green and paille tint, contrasted with the deeper colour of the laurel, represents the underwood of our secondary mountain ranges. The Erica arborea attains here the height of a large tree, and, on some spots, 30 to 40 feet of its gnarled stems stretch along the ground. Thus it may be traced, in company with other heaths, to the summit of the Pico Ruivo.
After having made some physical observations, and enjoyed a most delightful prospect, we re-packed our instruments, filled our boxes and pouches with plants and geological specimens, and prepared for our departure. The guides, despite their heavy burdens, marched steadily on, humming in plaintive cadence their native songs. We soon reached our horses, and, penetrating through layers of clouds, rapidly descended the steep mountain sides to St. Anna.
A walk on the same evening towards Porto Santo Jorge was not less charming than instructive, especially as we gazed on those hardened streams of lava, so interesting as regards the geological history of the island, out of the numerous crevices of which grew luxuriant magnificent rosettes of Sempervivum. Fuchsias and heliotropes were gathered from the bushes, and each took a share, now with the geological hammer, now with the botanical box, or the butterfly-catcher, in the harvest of objects of natural history. We passed in this neighbourhood several houses delightfully situated, surrounded by hedgerows of luxuriant shrubs and splendid native flowers.
In the fine garden of the inn, amidst myrtles, bignonias, euphorbias, and fuchsias, was a handsome Camellia japonica, which had attained the imposing height of 15 feet, with a diameter of 9 inches, the top spreading fan-like in numberless branches.
The following morning we returned to Funchal, accompanied by a troop of ragged and diseased natives, pertinaciously appealing to our charity. Plenteous alms were given them, for where Nature is so prodigal of her gifts, the human mind becomes more sensitive and liberal. At noon, we again reached the beautiful terrace of Nossa Senhora de Monte, and here the excursion was wound up by a diversion of quite a peculiar character; for, instead of returning to Funchal on horseback, we slid down a mountain 1500 feet high, right into the town, on small double-seated wooden sledges, thus travelling down what is probably the grandest natural Montagne Russe in the world. A train of more than a dozen sledges started at the same time. These singular vehicles are guided on either side with admirable adroitness by two natives, who avoid slipping by moistening their shoes; and, notwithstanding the velocity of these conveyances, even slight accidents are unheard of. Sledge parties of this kind, being cheap, constitute the most favourite amusement of the people of Funchal.
The whole company met together once more at a convivial dinner in the hotel, where, agreeably to the custom of the country, not only the room and table, but even every single dish served up, was adorned with garlands of fragrant flowers.
On the 17th June we again weighed anchor. The intention had originally been to steer direct for Rio de Janeiro; but as we learned, two days before our departure, that the yellow fever, though on the decrease, had not yet entirely ceased, we were in no hurry to arrive at the capital of Brazil, and therefore determined to employ the time so gained, in investigating the nature of the winds and currents prevalent in these latitudes. For though the proper course of ships between England and North America has been admirably laid down, for nearly every month of the year, by the long-continued ingenious labours of Commander Maury, of the Washington Observatory, yet there still exists great difficulty in steering sailing vessels from Gibraltar or Madeira to South America, by the directions hitherto existing; the more so, as the seafarer in these latitudes, close to the limits of the north-east trade-wind, generally falls in with variable breezes and frequent calms, caused partly by the African coast and partly by the cluster of isles from the Azores to the Cape Verde Islands, and which are of still more frequent occurrence in the summer of the northern hemisphere.
We kept Madeira, or rather the clouds which, during the summer, gather daily round the mountains, a long time in view; and on the 19th, at a distance of 120 miles from the island, some persons on board thought they could still distinguish them.
We steered at first in a south-westerly direction, with light breezes and fine weather. Advancing, however, towards the limits of the trade-winds, showers became frequent, and the wind chopped about much oftener; a more southerly course was therefore taken, in order to come as soon as possible under the influence of the north-easterly trade-winds.
There was now an opportunity of directing attention to the formation of the clouds, which, in these latitudes, assume at times very curious appearances. The cirri disappeared by degrees, and the cumuli towered up on the horizon in colossal masses. These latter are formed under the influence of the sun, when most powerful, and are therefore seen chiefly during the afternoon. As soon as they rise they vanish by absorption, just as fast as they are formed by evaporation from the sea. Rain very rarely proceeds from them. The alternation of their shades, tints, and colours, is beautiful in the extreme, particularly at sunset, when their outlines, as they stand out in bold relief on the clear blue sky, vary in hue from the deepest grey to the most brilliant golden yellow.
The nearer the tropics are approached the more does ocean teem with animated orgasms. A net cast into it was immediately filled with an immense number of little living creatures. Pretty-looking blue cockles, sea-nettles, and various other inhabitants of the deep, all of the most minute size, lay rolled up in one lump with small sea-weeds of beautiful forms and tints, from which those tiny things endeavoured, with great exertion, to extricate themselves. The microscope discloses to the observer an entirely new world in the economy of nature, as displayed in the animal life of the surface of the sea. The entire oceanic creation, from the smallest infusoria to the huge whale, are all specially adapted to the element in which they exist, and organized to contribute to the preservation, as well as the further development, of the whole globe.
This is beautifully illustrated by the operations of the zoophytes; the water of rivers dissolves the chalky substances of the land and carries them down to the ocean,—immense numbers of these form, for themselves, habitations from this matter;—by successive accumulation, produced through the action or the dead bodies of these creatures, the ground is raised gradually into the reefs, banks, and rocks, so dangerous to navigation; or into islands inhabited by man, who, in the development of his moral and physical powers, performs his mission in his high position, just as definitely as the imperceptible animalcuæ do in their narrow sphere.
Exceedingly beautiful in the tropic seas are those small physali, a species of Acalephæ, known to sailors as "Portuguese men-of-war." They sail along by means of their large air-bags, exposed to the wind, whilst their numerous long, dark-blue tentacles, like fibres or roots, reach deep into the water, extending or contracting in order to secure their food. The fringes of these air-bags are of a violet colour, and resemble, when in sunshine, a splendid flower, floating about the sea in all directions.
Approaching the zone of the trade-winds, the aspect of the sea is animated by flying-fish. It has been long a matter of doubt whether this fish really moves through the air by flying, or whether, being pursued by enemies, it merely darts from fear out of the water, and sustains itself in the air by means of its long pectoral fins, though the long distances it moves are out of all proportion to its size and probable muscular power. This doubt seems to have originated with those who never have had an opportunity of personally observing flying-fish; or who have merely seen these creatures in the Mediterranean, where they are so small as to render it rather difficult to decide in what the movement really consists.
But in the tropics all doubt vanishes, for the fish here attains a length of from 6 to 8 inches, and its pectoral fins are so much developed that they may perfectly well be used as wings. By closely observing them, it is seen that these fins, or wings, have an oscillating or vibratory motion, like that of the grasshopper, by which they assist the oblique spring from the water, produced by muscular power; they move at a height of from two to three feet above the surface of the sea, to a distance of from 50 to 100 yards, and at the same time change the direction of their flight in exactly the same way as grasshoppers.
It seems, however, to be neither pleasure nor want of food that drives these creatures from their own element. They have numerous enemies, of which the principal is the bonita (Scomber Palamy); whenever flying-fish were seen the bonitas likewise made their appearance; we often saw the latter darting out of the water and snapping at a flying-fish, when, if they did not succeed, they were perceived hastening under water in the same direction that their prey was taking. But the flying-fish is quite aware of the movement of the enemy, and, therefore, sometimes turns back abruptly, evidently with a view of dodging his pursuer. The advantage of the wings is, however, more apparent than real, for whilst they escape by these means from the bonitas, dorados, and dolphins, they fall a sacrifice to the seagulls and man-of-war birds (Tachypetes aquilus), which reach them like arrows shot from a bow, before they are able to conceal themselves again in the ocean. Those which were seen on the north of the equator, were invariably of the smaller kind (Exocætus volitans); whilst in the south, also, the larger species (Exocætus exulans) made their appearance. They often drop during the night on the decks of small vessels with low bows, but on the Novara, which rose about 20 feet over the surface of the water, this was not possible; however, some fell upon the chains, which were caught and preserved in alcohol by the zoologists.
On the 27th June, at midday, we had arrived in 27° 2′ N. Lat., and 24° 7′ W. Long., and lay in a perfect calm, the mirror-like aspect of the sea allowing us to take a deep-sea sounding with what is called Brooke's apparatus. This consists of a tube, which runs through a thirty-pound shot, fastened to a thin line. As the shot, however, cannot easily be drawn up after the sounding, there is an ingenious mechanism, by means of which, on touching the ground, it is detached from the tube, which may then be drawn up, the shot remaining in the sea. The tube has a funnel-shaped opening at its lower extremity, by which a portion of the ground may likewise be brought up for scientific examination.
In the afternoon a boat provided with everything requisite for the sounding, was launched, and the operation began. Unfortunately there were only 4050 fathoms of line, as we did not find at Gibraltar the quality required for the purpose. The whole stock ran entirely out without reaching ground; we could therefore do nothing more than make the attempt to heave the tube without the shot. In this, however, we succeeded only in so far as regarded the first 2000 fathoms; then the line broke, and the remainder was lost. One of the causes of this accident was the sudden rise of the trade-wind which increased so much as to engross nearly our entire attention.
To convey an idea of the time a ball of this kind takes to descend through the different strata of water, which increases in density in proportion to the depth attained, we annex the length of the different periods required in paying out the line during the experiment:—