According to a statement of Deputy Spinola, made on the 13th
of June, the eminent saint's feast day, his career in the military
service of Brazil has been the following: By a royal letter of the
7th of April, 1707, the commission of captain was conferred upon the
image of Saint Anthony, of Bahia. This image was promoted to be a
major of infantry by a decree of September 13th, 1819. In July, 1859,
his pay was placed upon the regular pay-roll of the Department of
War.
The image of St. Anthony in Rio de Janeiro, however, outranks his
counterpart of Bahia, and seems to have had a more brilliant military
record. His commission as captain dates from a royal letter of March
21st, 1711. He was promoted to be major of infantry in July, 1810,
and to be lieutenant-colonel in 1814. He was decorated with the Grand
Cross of the Order of Christ also, in 1814, and his pay as
lieutenant-colonel was made a permanent charge on the military list
in 1833.
The image of St. Anthony of Ouro Preto attained the rank and pay of
captain in 1799. His career has been an uneventful one, and has been
confined principally to the not unpleasant task of drawing $480 a
month from the public treasury. The salaries of all these soldiery
images are drawn by duly constituted attorneys. [Footnote: Rio News]
Owing to bubonic plague, my stay in Corumba was prolonged. I have
been in the city of Bahia when an average of 200 died every day from
this terrible disease, so Brazil is beginning to be more careful.
Though steamers were not running, perspiration was. Oh, the heat! In
my excursions in and around the town I found that even the mule I had
hired, acclimatized as it was to heat and thirst and hunger, began to
show signs of fatigue. Can man or beast be expected to work when the
temperature stands at 130 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade?
As the natives find bullocks bear the heat better than mules, I
procured one of these saddle animals, but it could only travel at a
snail's pace. I was indeed thankful to quit the oven of a town when
at last quarantine was raised and a Brazilian steamboat called.
Rats were so exceedingly numerous on this packet that they would
scamper over our bodies at night. So bold were they that we were
compelled to take a cudgel into our berths! A Brazilian passenger
declared one morning that he had counted three hundred rats on the
cabin floor at one time! I have already referred to Brazilian
numbering; perhaps he meant three hundred feet, or seventy-five rats.
With the heat and the rats, supplemented by millions of mosquitos, my
Corumba journey was not exactly a picnic.
