The 14th of February was the opening day of the railway, as far as Jundiahy, and this time we were invited and had a very gay time.

Here, in São Paulo, Richard worked hard at Camoens, and we both worked together at our translations—"Iraçema, or Honey-lips," and "Manuel de Moraes, the Convert," and the "Uruguay," all from great Brazilian authors; but we found, although we printed the two first, that they were not well received in England, because they were translations, and I could write a page or two upon the amount of literature and education we lose by boycotting that of other countries.

In spring of 1867 there was fighting in the streets for a couple of nights, about the election time.

The staple food of the people of the country, which takes the place of what the potato would be to the Irish, is a savoury mess of small brown beans, called fejão; a very coarse flour, called farinha, which looks like a dish of shaved horse-radish, is usually sprinkled over the beans, and then it is called a fejoada. It is delicious, and I should have been quite content to, and often did, dine on it. Another favourite dish is a scone of milho, the full-grown Indian corn, made hot and buttered. The only way to eat it, is to take it up in your two hands and gnaw it up and down like a bone, which is rather disagreeable, because it covers you with butter. A pepper-pot is also a usual thing, and is kept up à perpétuité; it comes on the table in its native earthenware pot, and everybody takes a little bit at the end to digest dinner, in lieu of cheese. Of course Europeans have their own dishes besides.

The greatest difficulty that I found was, that I was obliged to have five relays of every meal. First of all, Richard and I sat down, and our guests, if we had any; after we left the table, succeeded my Irish maid, who had become Donna Maria, and an Irish brother that she had imported, who was very like the "Mulligan" in "Perkinses' ball," and for whom I was fortunate enough to get a good berth on the railway at £200 a year, through the kindness of Mr. Daniel Fox and Mr. Aubertin, and he rose to £600 in course of time, traded, but unfortunately died after some years. After these the food was removed to some other room, where the German servants dined, because they would not sit down with the blacks. When they had finished the emancipated slaves sat down, who would not sit down with the slaves; these being too near their own kind, they obliged them to stand or to sit on the floor in the corners, where they gave them the leavings. But do not let anybody imagine that the slaves suffered, because when they had been about three months with me, from having had a little rice at their old masters', they would sometimes clamour for ducks and chickens, not being content with the good meat and bread and everything else that they got in plenty.

One thing that made staying at Rio so very pleasant was the great kindness of the Emperor and Empress to us. The Emperor delighted in scientific men, and the Empress liked good Catholics, so that we were frequently sent for—Richard alone to the Emperor, and I alone to the Empress, or both together. Richard gave two lectures at which all the Imperial family attended. The Imperial family consisted of the Emperor and Empress, the Imperial Princess Isabel, heir to the throne, her husband the Count d'Eu, and the Duke and Duchess de Saxe. These last, however, were less known, less cordial, and less popular in Rio. I can remember on one occasion, when we were sent for to an audience, at which were present the Emperor and Empress, the Princess Isabel and her husband, her Majesty's little dog came in and sat on the rug in the centre of the circle, and sat up begging. They all burst out laughing very heartily. The Emperor was a tall, handsome, fair man, with blue eyes, and brimful of kindness and learning. The Empress was not handsome, but she was the kindest and best of Empresses—very devout, dressed very plainly, but was most imperial in her manners and carriage. The Princess also had the manner of her rank, and was soft and sweet. The Princess Isabel used to give balls every Monday fortnight during the season, to which all persons entitled to go to Court were invited. One night, at one of Princess Isabel's balls, the Emperor walked up to Richard and said, "How is it, Captain Burton, that you are not dancing?" "I never dance, your Majesty—that is, not often; but the last time I did so, it was with the King of Dahomè, to the music of cutting off heads—in pantomime, of course." The Emperor laughed, and he said, "The best of it was, Sir, that the authorities at home were in an awful rage with me, as her Majesty's Commissioner, for dancing with him; but I should like to have seen them refuse his dusky Majesty, when, at a single moment of impatience or irritability, he had only got to give a sign, to have fifty spears run into one, or to be instantly impaled."

It was very pretty to see the Princess and her husband go down to the door, the street door, and receive and kiss the hands of the Emperor and Empress. They circulated freely amongst us, and talked to us. The Empress would draw her chair over to me or to any other lady that she had a fancy to talk to, and sit down and chat as affably as any other great lady without ever abating one little bit of her Imperial dignity.

I remember one night Richard and I were giving a large dinner to nearly all the Diplomatic corps at the hotel, after the reception at the palace. At the latter there was a room for the Ministers to wait in, and a room for the Consuls. We were, of course, put into the Consular room. Presently a messenger came and took us into the Ministers' room. This rather offended official etiquette, and they said, "Oh, you must not come here; you must go into the Consuls' room." "But," we said, "we have just been fetched out of the Consuls' room and put in here, so we do not know what to do." There was an immense long wait, and several times a messenger came to let in somebody else, and we all stood up in our places, expecting the Emperor. After a long time, when everybody was getting very impatient, a messenger arrived, and said, "This way." They all flocked to the door, and we hung back, thinking we must not have audience with the Ministers. Then the messenger said, "No, no! not for you, gentlemen, but Captain and Mrs. Burton." The poor humble people were exalted; their Majesties had sent for us to their private drawing-rooms, and gave us a long sitting-down audience. As we were driving home, Richard said, "I am afraid all the other fellows will be awfully angry;" and the fact of the matter is, that though we waited dinner for a long time, there were a great many empty chairs that night, which disappointed us sorely; but they were all right next morning.

Here we took coach, which is very much after the fashion of the old diligence, and we drove to Juizdafora. These coaches are drawn by perfectly wild mules; they stand straight on their hind legs. While the passengers are getting in, the coachman is already mounted with reins and whip, and two or three men hang on to each mule. When all is ready the driver shouts "Larga!" The men fall back and the mules rush on at full gallop, swaying the coach from side to side. After three months, when the mules are trained and tamed down, they are pronounced no longer fit for their work, and are sold for carriage-driving.[2] My pleasant recollection of Juizdafora is of lying all day on the grass under the orange trees, and picking about nine different species overhead, just within reach of my arms. I have never tasted oranges equal, before or since. We then started for Barbaçena, which terminated the coach journey. After this there was no means of getting along except on horseback. We had to discard our boxes and leave them under the care of a trustworthy person, and to make up a pack that we could carry behind us on our saddles, such as a change of linen, tooth-brush, a cake of soap, and a comb. We then mounted and rode twenty miles to Barrozo, a small village with a ranch. We rose at three next morning, and rode twenty-four miles further, and so on, and so on, till we reached San João d'El Rey, where we saw the Mines. We then went on to S. José. Our next place was Cerandahy to Lagos Dourado; here we met a party of English engineers.

On the 24th—a great feast, St. John Baptist—they were laying the foundation for a new railway, and we enjoyed the fun very much. We then, after breakfasting by a brook with the engineers, rode on to an awful place called Camapuão. Here we found the stables better than the house, and we slept by the side of the mules and horses. At one of these shelters that we asked to sleep at, the accommodation was fearful, but the reception was kind and cordial. There was not much to eat. In the middle of the night I woke, and could hear loud hoarse whisperings through the thin partition wall; it sounded like the man and his wife disputing. At length I heard the man say distinctly, "Don't bother me any more; it will be quite easy to kill them both, and I mean to do it." My hair stood on an end, as the saying is, and I softly got up and walked on tiptoe over to Richard, touched him, and said in a whisper, "Hush! don't speak; I have something to tell you." I told him exactly what I had heard. He said, "You will make less noise than I; go softly to that table and take our weapons, hand me mine, and creep into bed with yours. We will sit and watch the door. If it opens, I'll let fly at the door; and if a second comes in, then you fire." However, nothing came, though we lay awake till daylight, with our pistols cocked. Next morning they brought us for our breakfast a couple of nice roast chickens, and he said, "My wife and I had a regular quarrel in the night; we had only these two hens, and she did not want to kill them, but we had nothing else, and I was determined that you should have them both." So we said to him, "You shall not lose anything by it." Nor did they, for we paid four times the value; but we were glad when he went out of the room, that we might laugh.

Next day we rode on to Sassuhy, to Congonhas do Campo, about twenty-two miles. We saw the church of Congonhas and the seven stations of the Cross. We left at midday, and riding through a difficult country, arrived at Teixeiros. Next day was a very hard day. We started at half-past three in the morning; at half-past ten we breakfasted under a tree by the river. We crossed different rivers about twelve times, wading our horses through. We passed through virgin forests, and up and down scarped rocky mountains till dark, and arrived at Corche d'Agua, a miserable place, where there were no beds or food. We started again before dawn, rode about twelve miles in the dark, passed two villages, and about nine a.m. arrived at Morro Velho, our destination, where we were most kindly received by Mr. and Mrs. Gordon and family (Superintendent of all the Mines), and soon had bath and breakfast, and our animals quartered in good stables under the care of the host's English groom.

Here we stayed with our kind host for five and a half weeks, making excursions, and seeing most interesting things concerning the Mines. The Establishment consisted of the Superintendent and his family, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, two sons, and two daughters, and twenty-five officers (English); under them, about three thousand negroes (slaves), who work the mines. On Sunday we went to their church, saw their hospital and the stables, which contained some sixty horses, and we saw an Indian dance.

Here there was much of interest—the muster of the slaves, and pay-day on Saturday. We saw baptisms, and marriages, and burials. We went to see the quicksilver washed in the amalgamation house, and Mr. William Crookes's amalgamation; but this last did not succeed.

We started again after we were rested, passing through interesting mining places, sleeping the night at a friendly fazenda; next day we rode on to S. José de Morra Grande, Barro, Brumado, Santa Barbara, and Cates Atlas. There we slept. Next morning we rode to Agua, Queule, Fonseca, Morreia, and Affeixonada; from thence to Benito Rodriguez, then Comargo, then S. Anna, and then Marianna. Here we slept, went to church, visited the Bishop, the Seminary, the Sisters of Charity, hospitals, orphanage, and schools, and rode to Passagem, where we slept. Next day we went down the Passagem mines (gold), forty-five fathoms down, and in another place thirty-two fathoms, and saw the stamps; and then we went and did the same at the S. Anna mines. This day we were so near Mr. Treloar's house, that we gave away all our provisions, saying, "By breakfast-time to-morrow we shall be in a English house." Imagine our horror, on arriving, to find that poor Mrs. Treloar had died the evening before, and that her poor husband was in such a state that it was impossible for him to receive us. He thanked God for Richard's coming, because there was no church, no clergyman, and no burial-ground, and an English Consul performing the burial service is valid; so the sorrowful ceremony was performed, winding up the hill-top, where she was buried, and I was left in charge of all his negroes. They had prepared something for us to eat, for which I had given them five milreis, about ten shillings. They all squabbled so violently over this, as to draw their knives, and to begin to stab each other; so, with that ascendency which whites generally have over blacks, I ordered them all to come into my presence and to put their knives down near me, and I asked them if they were not ashamed, when their poor mistress was being carried up the hill to her last burial-place, to behave in so unseemly a fashion, and, ordering them all down upon their knees, I took out my Prayer-book and read the burial service too; and I read it over and over again, until the party came back from the grave.

We then started immediately for Ouro Preto. Here Richard went up the Itacalumi, and I visited the two martyrs of Ouro Preto, the house of Gonzaga. We then slept and dined, and had champagne, and we went to tea at Mr. and Mrs. Spiers', who had a party. Next day we rode on to Casa Branca, S. Vicente, to Rio das Pedras, where we joined some American emigrants. Afterwards we had a very weary and hard ride to Corele d'Agua, our old sleeping-place, where we took a cup of coffee and rode to S. Antonio. We had a pelting rain, and we breakfasted at a troupeiro's ranch; thence to S. Rita, and from thence to Morro Velho, six leagues away, arriving like wet dogs.

Even Richard notes in his journal, "an awful sight."

Richard's Account[3] of going down the Mine.

"A small crowd of surface workmen accompanied us to the mouth of Walker's inclined plane, a hot and unpleasant hole leading to the Cachoeira Mine. The negret Chico gave one glance at the deep dark pit, wrung his hands, and fled the Tophet, crying that nothing in the wide, wide world would make him enter such an Inferno. He had lately been taught that he is a responsible being, with an 'immortal soul,' and he was beginning to believe it in a rough theoretical way: this certainly did not look like a place 'where the good niggers go.' Next the descent:—

"Presently the bucket was suspended over the abyss, and we found in it a rough wooden seat, comfortable enough. We were advised by the pitmen not to look downwards, as the glimmer of sparks and light-points moving about in the mighty obscure below causes giddiness and sea-sickness. We did look down, however, and none of us suffered from the trial. More useful advice was to keep head and hands well within the bucket, especially when passing the up-going tub. We tipped and tilted half over only once against a kibble-way drum, placed to fend off the cacamba. We had three such collisions, which made us catch at the chains, and describe them as 'moments of fearful suspense;' we had been lowered in a kibble with a superfluity of chain.

"When our eyesight had become somewhat feline we threw a glance round. Once more the enormous timbering under a bar, or to the east of the shaft, called it to every one's attention."

After describing the great extent of the mine, whose vertical height was 1134 feet, and breadth 108 feet, "unparalleled in the annals of mining," and which suggested "a cavern, a huge stone quarry, a mammoth cave raised from the horizontal to the perpendicular," the narrative winds up as follows:—

On nearing the Bottom.

"And now, looking west, the huge palace of darkness, dim in long perspective, wears a tremendous aspect; above, at first only, there seemed to be a sky without an atmosphere. The walls were either as black as the grave or reflected slender rays of light glancing from the polished watery surface, or were broken into monstrous projections, half revealing and half concealing the cavernous, gloomy recesses. Despite the lamps, the night pressed upon us, as it were, with a weight, and the only measure of distance was a spark here and there, glimmering like a single star. Distinctly Dantesque was the gulf between the huge mountain sides apparently threatening every moment to fall. Everything, even the accents of a familiar voice, seemed changed; the ear was struck by the sharp click and dull thud of the hammer upon the boring-iron, and this upon the stone; each blow invariably struck was to keep time with the wild chants of the borer. The other definite sounds, curiously complicated by an echo, which seemed to be within reach, were the slush of water on the subterranean paths, the rattling of the gold-stone thrown into the kibbles, and the crash of chain and bucket.

"Through this Inferno gnomes and kobolds glided about in ghostly fashion—half-naked figures muffled up by the mist. Here dark bodies, gleaming with beaded heat-drops, hung in what seemed frightful positions; there they swung like Leotard from place to place; there they swarmed up loose ropes like the Troglodytes; there they moved over scaffolds, which even to look up at would make a nervous temperament dizzy. This one view amply repaid us. It was a place—

'Where thoughts were many, and where words were few.'

But the effect will remain upon the mental retina as long as our brains do their duty. At the end of two hours we left this cathedral'd cavern of thick-ribbed gold, and we were safely got out like ore to grass.

"We found the last eighty-three fathoms of tunnel steep and dark, but dry and comfortable. It was well timbered with beams and Candeia trunks wherever the ceiling required propping. At length we reached another vaulted cavern, thirty-five fathoms of perpendicular depth. It was lit up with torches, and the miners—all slaves, directed by white overseers—streamed with perspiration, and merrily sung their wild songs and chorus, keeping time with the strokes of hammer and drill. The heavy gloom, the fitful glare, and the savage chant, with the wall hanging like the stone of Cisyphus, like the sword of Damocles, suggested a sort of material Swedenborgian hell; and accordingly the negret Chico faltered out, when asked his opinion on our return, 'Parece o Inferno!'"

To continue my account. There were the large dark halls with vaults and domes; they were covered with negroes, each with a candle stuck in his black head, hammering in time to some tune to which they were all singing. It would have been a wonderful picture for a painter. How often all my life I have regretted not to have been an artist, instead of musical! The negroes are healthy and well doing; they only work eight hours a day, and have over-pay for anything extra. The mulattoes were the most surly looking ones. After having seen everything we ascended again, and if I may say so, I think the ascent was worse than the going down, and nobody knows, until they have tried that sort of darkness, what daylight and sunlight and fresh air mean. After long mounting, you see at last one star sparkling in the distance like an eye, which appears miles off, and that is the mouth of the shaft.

In the evening there was a concert and a ball amongst ourselves. On the 27th Richard lectured; there were some private theatricals in which I took a part, and forgetting the drop behind the open-air, theatre when I backed off, I fell. I sprained my ankle so badly that my leg was all black, and I could not move. Now, the worst of it was that we were going to canoe down the San Francisco river, to come out at the falls of Paulo Affonso, issuing at Bahía, and back to Rio by steamer; but it was impossible to take a woman who could not walk. We could embark at Sabará, a short distance from where we were, and as Richard's time was very short, and he could not take a lame woman, he had to start without me, and I went in the litter to see him embark in the boat Elisa.

As soon as I got well, Mr. Gordon, who was an exceedingly liberal, large-minded man, recognized that having three thousand Catholic negroes under him, manned by twenty-five English Protestant officers, it was quite possible that in a religious sense, things might be made more comfortable to them, and he asked me, as an educated English Catholic, to go the rounds of Church and Hospital, and find out if there was anything that could improve their condition. Having been for some time in Brazil, and seeing the wants of the negroes, I thought I could put my finger on the right spot at once. There was one particular ward in the hospital where incurables were put, and a black cross over their beds told them Dante's old words, "Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch' entrate" ("Leave every hope (outside), all ye who enter (here)"). I dismissed the attendant, for fear they should be afraid to answer, walked round the wards and sat by them, and I will take one case as a specimen of the whole. She was dying of diseases which need not be named here. I said to her—

"Has your case been given over by the doctor?"

"Alas! yes," she said; "I have only got to wait."

"Should you like to live?"

"Yes, of course I should."

"Has the priest been to hear your confession? Have you sent for him?"

"Oh no; I should not dare do that."

"Why not? What is he for?"

"Oh, lady, we must not ask, and he doesn't come to us in this ward, only to those who go to church."

"Do you mean to tell me that none of you in this ward get the last Sacraments?"

"Oh no; we should be so ashamed to see his Reverence."

"Why, you are not ashamed to see the doctor? What is the difference between the doctor and the priest, except that one is for your body and one is for your soul? You say you are afraid of the priest; will you not be more ashamed of God, whose servant he is?" That seemed to strike them; so, wishing them good-bye, I trotted off to the Padre. No matter his name, but he appeared to take things very easy when I told him. He said he "could not administer the Sacraments, because he had not a pyx nor any of the vessels to convey them in."

"Well," I said, "Father, I have been commissioned by the Superintendent to examine into these things, and to report to him what is done and what ought to be done, and he is going to see it carried out; so will you oblige me by going to hear all those confessions, now at once, and taking the holy ingredients in a wine-glass, and administering Viaticum and Extreme Unction, and say a few consoling words to them, and let us see the results? You know that you can break these glasses into little atoms, and you can burn the remnants in one of the furnaces, or keep them for that purpose until I send up the proper things from Rio."

Well, this was done, and, to cut a long story short, that woman was back to work in a fortnight; and when Mr. Gordon saw the immense advantage produced by relief of mind, and the consideration of their feelings, and the action of the brain upon the body, he made it an institution, and commissioned me to send up all the necessary things from Rio.

I rose at dawn; we made some tea in our kettle. Replenishing our sack of provisions at every village, and having fed, watered, and groomed the horses, we rode until it was too hot. We put up our bit of sail and rested during the heat, and then we rode on till nightfall; after this we fed again, looked after the horses and picketed them. Some of the country, and especially the forests, were lovely. Whenever we came to a village or a ranch, we and our animals got housed; and when we did not, which was rare, we camped out, for it was very warm. We never met with a single scrap of danger the whole way, nor a rude word; for defence we had only a penknife, our toasting-fork, and an old pistol that would not go off. I had given my weapons to Richard, whose journey was longer and more dangerous than mine.

At one place that we stopped at, we rose at half-past three, and whilst dressing I heard what I supposed was thrashing out grain or beating sacks. It went on for about fifteen minutes, and I did not pay any attention to it, till at last I heard a sob issue from the beaten mass at the other side of the thin partition wall. I knew then what was taking place, and turned so sick I could hardly get to the door. I ran to the room, caught hold of the man's arms, and called for Chico and for everybody in the place, but I was fully ten minutes before I could arouse any one's pity or sympathy; they seemed so used to it they would not take the trouble to get up. The man who was beating only laughed, and beat on. I very nearly fainted. I expected the poor wretch would have been pounded to an ointment, but to my surprise, when he gave it a kick and told it to get up, up rose quite a fine young woman, gave herself a shake, and walked off like a Newfoundland dog. I went after her, and asked her if she was hurt, and she said, "Oh no, not much; he often goes on like that!" "But then," I said, "what did he do it for? What did you do?" She said, "Another black woman and I were quarrelling, so he thrashed us both; but as you were sound asleep you did not hear the first."

Presently down came my maid, who was a great swell, with my boxes. After a bath and dressing, I rang the bell and ordered some supper. He came up himself, as I was such an object of curiosity. When he saw me again he said, "Did that woman come to take the apartments for you, madam? I do beg your pardon; I am afraid I was rather rude to her." "Well," I said, "I am that woman myself; but you need not apologize, because I saw myself in the glass, and I don't wonder at it." He nearly tumbled down, and when I had explained my adverse circumstances to him, begged my pardon till I was quite tired of hearing it. I went up to Santos for some time; and when I thought Richard could arrive, I went down to Rio to meet him, and used to go on board every steamer that came in from Bahía in the hopes of his being there. At this time came out to Rio Mr. Wilfrid Blunt and his sister Alice. I went on board ship after ship to meet Richard, but as he never came, I got at last very anxious and miserable, and only used to make a fool of myself by crying when I did not find him. He had been gone over four months. At last the first steamer that I did not go to meet, he arrived in, and was quite angry to find that I was not on board to meet him. He had had a very jolly journey, canoeing down the river to the "falls of the Paulo Affonso," and sleeping at different ranches on the banks of the river. It was something like fifteen hundred miles, coming out eventually at Bahía, where he had a great friend, an old gentleman popularly known as "Charley Williams," who gave him hospitality till he embarked, or could catch a steamer to Rio. We then went down to Santos together.

As Richard was canoeing down the San Francisco river, he found a lot of stones called Pingua d'Agua; they are formed by congealed rain in the rocks; they get fossilized, and if polished have the glitter of diamonds. Richard met an Englishman, who told him that he had come over with all he had in the world, £1500, and expended it in diamonds, of which he fondly believed he had got about £30,000 worth, and was going home with them. So Richard told him that he had just come from the diamond mines, and that he should immensely like to see them. When he showed them to him, Richard's face fell, and he said, "What is the matter?" "Well," he said, "I hardly like to tell you, but I am afraid you have been done. Some one has passed off these Pingua d'Agua upon you for diamonds, and I am afraid you have exchanged £1500 for thirty shillings' worth." So the man said, "Oh, you must be a fool!" "Well," said Richard, "if it isn't that I am so sorry for you, I should say 'serve you right,' because I really do happen to know."

About the 17th of April, 1868, Richard, who had been looking queer and seedy for six weeks, but persisting all the time that he was perfectly well, felt feverish and agueish, and went to bed. I gave him calomel and castor oil, and then every sort of thing that I could think of. He got worse and worse, and I was in despair, for there were no doctors; but at last, after some days, a doctor did arrive from Rio, and I sent for him at once, and he passed the night in the house. Of course it was purely Brazilian treatment for a Brazilian disease, and nothing we knew touched it. He had six cuppings, with thirty-six glasses and twelve leeches, tartar emetic, and all sorts of other things, and there was something to be given or rubbed every half-hour, of which a very large ingredient was orange tea. The doctor came twice a day, and the number of remedies was wonderful, every half-hour, and I never left him day or night. They blistered him terribly.

When Richard thought he was dying, he sent me for Fray João, with whom he had been learning astronomy; but Fray João was gone on an expedition up country for two months, and he would not have anybody else for the Sacraments; but he accepted the Scapular, which all Catholics will understand, and to others it is not needful to explain, and he wore it to the day of his death. One night he gave me a terrible fright; he asked me to give him twenty drops of chlorodyne. I objected, but he was so imperative about it that I thought he had been ordered it; fortunately, I only gave him fifteen. He found it too strong, and, also fortunately, he spat it out, and asked me to mix him another of ten, which he drank. He soon frightened me by feeling sick and faint, and I gave him lukewarm water to make him bring it up, and sent for the doctor, who was very frightened about him. He was insensible an hour. He gave ether pills, applied mustard to the calves of the legs and inside the thighs, and then Richard had a calm and good sleep all night, and from that got a great deal better. He was able to go into his study after a month, and took his first drive five weeks after he was taken ill, and at the end of seven weeks I was able to take him down to the Barra, where Mr. Ford had kindly lent us his bungalow, where Richard could sit on the sands and let the sea roll over him, and here he got much better. I may now tell a horrid little story, as it illustrates Richard's power of mesmerizing.

Richard was a great mesmerizer, a thing which everybody who knew him will understand.[4] He always preferred women, and especially of the blue-eyed, yellow-haired type. I need not say that he began with me as soon as we married; but I did not like it, and used to resist it, but after a while I consented. At first it was a little difficult, but when once he had complete control, no passes or contact were necessary; he used simply to say, "Sleep," and I did. He could also do this at a distance, but with more difficulty if water were between us, and if he tried to mesmerize anybody else and I was anywhere in the neighbourhood, I absorbed it, and they took nothing. I used to grow at last to be afraid to be in the same room with a mesmerizer, as I used to experience the greatest discomfort, and I knew if there was one in the room, the same as some people know if there is a cat in the room; but I could resist them, though I could not resist Richard. He used to mesmerize me freely, but he never allowed any one else, nor did I, to mesmerize me. Once mesmerized, he had only to say, "Talk," and I used to tell everything I knew, only I used to implore of him to forbid me to tell him other people's secrets, and as a matter of honour he did, but all my own used to come out freely; only he never took a mean advantage of what he learnt in that way, and he used laughingly to tell everybody, "It is the only way to get a woman to tell you the truth." I have often told him things that I would much rather keep to myself.

In the particular instance that I am about to recount, he had mesmerized me to consult about an expedition that he was going to take, as he had previous to his illness meant to start, and I had said to him, "Don't start, because you are going to have a very bad illness, and you will want me and your home comforts;" so he now re-mesmerized me to know what he should do, and I said to him, "Don't take the man that you are going to take with you, because he is a scoundrel; don't buy the things that you are going to buy for the expedition, because you will never use them. You will go a long journey south for your health." I then said to him, "Look! what a curious procession is passing our door, a long procession of people in white, and headed by Maria and Julia"[5]—who were our old cook and her daughter, aged about seventeen—"they are all in white, with flowers on their heads. What can it mean?" I raved all night about this procession, till Richard got up and shut the shutters, and closed the door, which opened out on to the sands, the night being very hot. The next day this procession made an impression on him, and for curiosity's sake he sent up a mounted messenger to São Paulo to know if anything had occurred, or if there was any news. We had brought no servants with us, had left my maid and everybody behind.

Now, on a former occasion, about three months back, he had mesmerized me, and I had had this very cook called to me, and I had said to her, "Maria, go to confession and communion, then send to a lawyer and make your will. You have got a little cottage, and you have saved £150; you have a few boxes of clothes and things. Leave everything to Little Peter"—her son aged six—"and don't trouble about Julia." When I came to, she told me the extraordinary things I had been saying to her, and how frightened she was; but she said, "I will do all that you have told me, only I can't leave Julia without anything;" and I said to her, "I am not conscious of having said anything; but in that case, you had better say that whatever you leave to Julia goes to Peter at her death." Well, this was the news that we got by the mounted messenger: The old cook had died that day in an apoplectic fit, and before the maid had time to call or send for the daughter, she walked in, looking very ill, and sat upon the sofa, rocking and moaning, and she said, "I have come from my mistress to die here. I feel so very ill, I will not leave you." From all she told the maid, and the strange way she was going on, the maid inferred that the girl was in a particular kind of trouble, and it would be impossible to keep her there, and she begged of her to let her fetch a carriage and conduct her back to her mistress, where at least if she was ill she could be taken care of, and seeing her in such a state, she was afraid to inform her that her mother was lying dead. One of the slaves fetched a carriage, and they put her into it, and were conducting her home, but she was so bad on the road they had to lift her out, and take her into a little venda (a place where they sell wine), and run to fetch a priest, who was just in time to give her the last Sacraments, when she expired. The blood oozed from her eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and from all the pores of her skin. She died very shortly and was buried, and the smell was so bad in the venda that the walls had to be scraped and rewhitewashed, although she was only there a few hours. It was afterwards proved that she and the black cook at her mistress's were both in love with the same man, and as she had announced her intention of visiting my house, the cook had given her a cup of coffee before she set out, and had said, "Go! you will never come back." The body was exhumed. It was supposed she had received in the coffee a Brazilian poison, mixed with powdered glass, made of some herbs of which the negroes have the secret. Little Peter would have now become practically, though not theoretically, a Brazilian slave, and his little property would have been absorbed; but by the will made at the Consulate, he was under the protection of the Consul. His education was undertaken, and he was sole inheritor of the cottage, £150, and the boxes of clothes and other property.