beautiful as the European species: in its flight, manners, and place of
habitation, which is generally in the driest valley, there is also a
wide difference.
One day, two of the officers and myself rode to Ribeira Grande, a
village a few miles eastward of Porto Praya. Until we reached the
valley of St. Martin, the country presented its usual dull brown
appearance; but here, a very small rill of water produces a most
refreshing margin of luxuriant vegetation. In the course of an hour we
arrived at Ribeira Grande, and were surprised at the sight of a large
ruined fort and cathedral. This little town, before its harbour was
filled up, was the principal place in the island: it now presents a
melancholy, but very picturesque appearance. Having procured a black
Padre for a guide, and a Spaniard who had served in the Peninsular war
as an interpreter, we visited a collection of buildings, of which an
ancient church formed the principal part. It is here the governors and
captain-generals of the islands have been buried. Some of the
tombstones recorded dates of the sixteenth century. [2]
The heraldic ornaments were the only things in this retired place that
reminded us of Europe. The church or chapel formed one side of a
quadrangle, in the middle of which a large clump of bananas were
growing. On another side was a hospital, containing about a dozen
miserable-looking inmates.
We returned to the Venda to eat our dinners. A considerable number of
men, women, and children, all as black as jet, collected to watch us.
Our companions were extremely merry; and everything we said or did was
followed by their hearty laughter. Before leaving the town we visited
the cathedral. It does not appear so rich as the smaller church, but
boasts of a little organ, which sent forth singularly inharmonious
cries. We presented the black priest with a few shillings, and the
Spaniard, patting him on the head, said, with much candour, he thought
his colour made no great difference. We then returned, as fast as the
ponies would go, to Porto Praya.
Another day we rode to the village of St. Domingo, situated near the
centre of the island. On a small plain which we crossed, a few stunted
acacias were growing; their tops had been bent by the steady
trade-wind, in a singular manner--some of them even at right angles to
5