Cinco artistas em Cintra

CRISTINO, João, 1829-1877

Camellia 'Formosa Youngii'

Berlèse Tome II nº 157

CAMELLIA FORMOSA YOUNGII

Il y a dans le commerce plusieurs Camellia qui portant la dénomination de formosa. Celui que nous avons donné dans cet ouvrage est connu sous le double nom de formosa ou formosissima, et ne ressemble point à celui que nous allons décrire.

Le C. formosa de Young est une variété nouvelle qui ne se trouve encore que chez les principaux horticulteurs-marchands. Cet arbrisseau, qui nous parait destiné à rester trapu, a de nombreuses branches allongées, diffuses. L’individu que nous en avons sous les yeux est encore trop jeune pour nous permettre d’en dire davantage.

Les feuilles ont environ 95 millimètres de long sur 50 de large ; elles sont ovales-acuminées, un peu retournées en dessous au sommet, dures, épaisses, luisantes, profondément nervées, dentées en partie, et d’un vert foncé.

Les boutons sont gros, coniques, acuminés, solides, et à écailles jaunâtres.

La fleur est double, anémoniforme, a de 9 à 10 centimètres de diamètre, est d’un rouge foncé presque pourpre, quelquefois rouge uni, quelquefois panachée de blanc. Les pétales de la circonférence, sur trois ou quatre rangs, sont ovales-arrondis, fortement échancrés, largement imbriqués, et vergetés presque tout de blanc. Dans le nombre, il s’en trouve un ou deux moitié blanc, moitié rouge ; ceux du milieu sont fasiculés, étroits, moyens, entremêlés, arrondis, émarginés, et formant un centre large, droit, élevé et sphérique.

Cette variété nous vient de M. Young, de Londres, horticulteur distingué, qui, par son zèle, son talent et sa fortune, a beaucoup contribué à étendre en Europe la culture du Camellia.

Iconographie du genre Camellia, en trois tomes, (Paris, 1841-1843)

Myoporum parvifolium R.Br.

Myoporum Parvifolium.
Small-leaved Myoporum.
Class and Order. Didynamia Angiospermia.

Generic Character.

Cal. 5-partitus. Cor. tubo brevi ; limbo 5-fido, subaequali. Stigma obtusum. Drupa baccata, 2 — 4-locularis. Sem. i — 2, pendula.

Specific Character and Synonyms.

MYOPORUM parvifolium ; foliis alternis clavato-linearibus ramulisque glanduloso-tuberculatis, pedunculis subbipartitis, folium subaequantibus.

MYOPORUM parvifolium; foliis alternis linearibus obtusiusculis apice nunc dentatis basi attenuatis ramulisque glandulosis, pedunculis paslim bipartilis dimidio folio longioribus, caule diffufo. Brown Prod. PL Nov. Holl. p. 516. Hort. Kew. ed. alt. 4. p. 60.

POGONIA tuberculata, aspera vel scabra Hortulanis.

This is a very pretty little shrub, with sweetist honey-scented flowers; and flowering almost the whole of the year, is a valuable ornament to our greenhouses.

Being propagated by cuttings without difficulty, it is become pretty common, though no figure of it has, we believe, been hitherto published. We have received specimens of this plant from several quarters, under the names of Pogonia tuberculata, aspera, and scabra. Our drawing was taken from a plant communicated by Messrs. Loddiges and Sons. Introduced in 1803, by Mr. Peter Good.

Lotus Jacobaeus

The Botanical Magazine; Or, Flower-Garden Displayed by William Curtis

79. Lotus Jacobaeus. Black-Flowered Lotus.

Class and Order:
Diadelphia Decandria.

Generic Character:
Legumen cylindricum strictum. Alae sursum longitudinaliter conniventes. Cal. tubulosus.
Specific Character and Synonyms:
LOTUS Jacobaeus leguminibus subternatis, caule herbaceo erecto, foliolis linearibus. Lin. Syst. Veg. 601.
LOTUS angustifolia, flore luteo purpurascente, infulae S. Jacobi. Comm. hort. 2. p. 165. t. 83.
No. 79

This species of Lotus has been called black-flowered, not that the flowers are absolutely black, for they are of a very rich brown inclined to purple, but because they appear so at a little distance; the light colour of the foliage contributes not a little to this appearance.

"It grows naturally in the Island of St. James; is too tender to live abroad in England, so the plants must be kept in pots, and in the winter placed in a warm airy glass cafe, but in the summer they should be placed abroad in a sheltered situation. It may be easily propagated by cuttings during the summer season, and also by seeds, but the plants which have been two or three times propagated by cuttings, seldom are fruitful." Miller's Gard. Dict.

It continues to flower during the whole of the summer; as it is very apt to die off without any apparent cause, care should be taken to have a succession of plants from seeds, if possible.

Island of St. James = S. Tiago, Cape Verde / Cabo Verde

Eugenia myrtifolia

Eugenia myrtifolia may mean:
In the Regnum Plantae:
Eugenia myrtifolia Salisb., nom. superfl. (Magnoliophyta : Myrtaceae) = Eugenia uniflora
Eugenia myrtifolia Roxb., 1813, nom. inval. (Magnoliophyta : Myrtaceae) = Syzygium myrtifolium
Eugenia myrtifolia Sims, 1821, nom. illeg. (Magnoliophyta : Myrtaceae) = Syzygium australe or Eugenia oleaeoides
Eugenia myrtifolia Roxb., 1831, nom. illeg. (Magnoliophyta : Myrtaceae) = Syzygium myrtifolium
Eugenia myrtifolia Cambess., 1833, nom. illeg. (Magnoliophyta : Myrtaceae) = Eugenia neomyrtifolia

Eugenia myrtifolia Roxb., Fl. Ind. ed. 1832, 2: 490 (1832), nom. illeg.
Eugenia myrtifolia Sims, Bot. Mag. 48: t. 2230 (1821), nom. illeg.
Eugenia myrtifolia Cambess. in A.F.C.de Saint-Hilaire, Fl. Bras. Merid. 2: 367 (1833), nom. illeg.
Eugenia myrtifolia Salisb., Prodr. Stirp. Chap. Allerton: 353 (1796).

Banksia praemorsa Andrews

Banksia marcescens.
Marcescent Banksia.
Plate 2803 from Volume LV of Curtis's Botanical Magazine,

Proteaceae
Banksia marcescens R.Br. [ nom. illeg. ] nom. superfl..
Brown, R. (1810) On the natural order of plants called Proteaceae. Transactions of the Linnean Society of London 10(1): 208 [tax. nov.]


basionym: Banksia praemorsa Andrews
Comment: Given under BANKSIA L.f. (nom. cons.).George, A.S. (1981) The genus Banksia L.f. (Proteaceae). Nuytsia 3(3): 347-348
synonym of: Banksia praemorsa Andrews George, A.S. in Wilson, A.J.G. (Ed) (1999), Flora of Australia 17B: 215, Map 214
synonym of: Banksia praemorsa Andrews CHAH (2005), Australian Plant Census
synonym of: Banksia praemorsa Andrews

Sciadopitys verticillata

Siebold/Zuccarini, Flora Japonica, 1870


The plant was first introduced to Europe by John Gould Veitch in September 1860.


James Herbert Veitch (2006 reprint). Hortus Veitchii. Caradoc Doy. pp. 51–52.

Pinus wallichiana - A.B.Jacks.

Flora of China Illustrations vol. 4, fig. 23, 1-9
(Wu and Raven 1999).




Pinaceae - Pinus excelsa


Neerland’s plantentuin. Afbeeldingen en beschrijvingen van sierplanten voor tuin en kamer by Cornelius Antoon Jan Abraham Oudemans (editor) and others.Groningen, J.B. Wolters, 1867, volume 3 (plate 42). Chromolithograph (sheet 174 x 263 x mm).



A beautifully illustrated monthly journal about Dutch garden plants and indoor plants. Only 3 volumes were published. With extensive contributions by its editor C.A.J.A. Oudemans and C. Glijm, J.B. Groenewegen, J.H. Krelage and H. Witte. The decorative chromolithographed plates by A.J. Wendel and others lithographed by Emrik & Binger, Marriën & Amand, G. Severeyns, L. Stroobant, etc.* Jackson p. 479; Nissen BBI 1477; Stafleu & Cowan 7148.





Antiquariaat Jan Meemelink

Passiflora antioquiensis H. Karst.

Curtis's botanical magazine, Volume 92

Tacsonia van-volxemii Hook. Bot. Mag. 92: t. 5571.

One of the most striking and beautiful plants hitherto introduced into Europe, easy of cultivation, and continuing a considerable time in flower. It promises to rival the Lapafferia, and even to eclipse it. The genus to which it belongs inhabits South America, principally the valleys of the Andes; and it is stated in Lemaire's ' Jardin Fleuriste' that this species is a native of the temperate region of the province of Antioquia, in New Granada, where it is cultivated by the natives. It was introduced into Belgium, in 1858, by a zealous amateur, M. Van Volxem, who found it in a garden at Bogota ; and I have native specimens collected by Goudot in the Quindiu Andes, in the same country. For the specimen here figured, as well as for a fine plant presented to the Royal Gardens, I am indebted to Messrs. lucombe and Price, of Exeter. It succeeds well in a warm greenhouse, and according to its discoverer it resists a temperature of the freezing-point in its own country.

Passiflora antioquiensis H. Karst. Linnaea 30: 162. 1859

Aristolochia labiata

Curtis's botanical magazine, Volume 70

There are few plants which present more striking peculiarities of form and structure in their blossoms than the various individuals of the Genus to which the present plant belongs. Ninety-two species are enumerated by Steudel in the new edition of his valuable " Nomenclator Botanicus." Amongst them is a peculiar group inhabiting Brazil, which Martius characterizes as having flowers of a remarkably large size, variegated with dark purple brown, with the tube of the perianth obovate or ventricose, the limb tubular at the base, then two-lipped; the upper lip more or less elongated, channelled, the lower one, from a very contracted and channelled or cymbiform base, dilated into a very broad lamina. To this division, besides our plant, here represented, will belong the A. galeata, Mart., A. cymbifera, Mart., A. labiosa, Ker, Bot. Reg., and Sims, in Bot. Mag. t. 2545 (excl. syn.), A. Brasiliensis, Mart. (A. ringens, Link and Otto), and A. ringens, Vahl, (not Link and Otto). To the A. cymbifera and A. labiosa, just mentioned, (two species certainly very nearly allied to each other,) our A. galeata bears a great affinity, as well in size as in general structure; but may be at once known by the very narrow (not broad and cymbiform) base of the lower lip. From A. galeata it may be discriminated by the much greater size of its leaves and flowers, by the different colour and marking of the perianth, and especially by the deep sinus of the great lamina of the lower lip. It was raised in the Glasgow Botanic- Garden from seeds, gathered near Crato, Brazil, by Mr. Gardner, in September, 1838. Plants communicated from Glasgow to Mr. Moore at the Glasnevin Botanic Garden, produced their curious blossoms in the stove during the autumn of 1840 and 1841, and from these specimens our figure is taken. Flowering individuals of the same plant were kindly sent by Mr. Llewellyn, of Penllegar, in May of the following year; also raised from Gardner's seeds.

Aristolochia labiata
Willd. Mémoires de la Société Impériale des Naturalistes de Moscou 2: 101-102, t. 6. 1809.

Aristolochia labiata

Aristolochia labiata Willd. Mémoires de la Société Impériale des Naturalistes de Moscou 2: 101-102, t. 6. 1809.

Curtis's botanical magazine, Volume 90

This is a very fine species of Aristolochia, evidently belonging to the same natural group or section as the Aristolochia arborea, Linden, figured at Tab. 5295 of this work; derived, too, from the same country, New Granada, and introduced into Europe by the same distinguished horticulturist, Mr. Linden, through Mr. Triana, who detected it on the Magdalena, between Honda and Magdalena. As a species, however, it is totally distinct from the one just mentioned, not only in the foliage, but in the organization and internal structure of the flower. The singular blossoms are produced in our stove in September.

Aristolochia cymbifera

Aristolochia labiosa Ker Gawl. Bot. Reg. 8: t. 689. 1823

Curtis's botanical magazine, Vol 52

Aristolochia labiosa is a handsome climber, the leaves being of a delicate lively green and the flowers very large, beautifully variegated, and of a grotesque form ; but its scent is very offensive, resembling that of some of the Stapelias, and not very unlike the smell of decayed fish.
For an opportunity of offering to our readers a drawing of this very rare plant, we are indebted to the Count De Vandes, in whose splendid collection at Bayswater, this plant flowered in the hot-house, in September 1824. It is a native of Brazil, from whence it was introduced into the Kew Gardens, by Messrs. Cunningham and Bowie, the king's collectors.

IPNI

Aristolochia cymbifera Mart. & Zucc. Nov. Gen. Sp. Pl. (Martius) i. 76. t. 49. i. 76. t. 49.

Hibiscus Cameroni-fulgens Lindley

A specimen of this fine plant was sent us in August 1843, by Messrs. Rollissons, of Tooting, who state that it is a hybrid, between Hibiscus Cameroni and H. fulgens. H. Cameroni is a Madagascar shrub, with heartshaped 5-lobed leaves, buff flowers, with five deep crimson spots in the eye, and a very small involucre; H. fulgens is a garden name for a varietv of H. Rosa Sinensis.

The produce of these two is the very handsome variety now figured, which, as might have been anticipated, proves worthy of so beautiful a parentage.

We presume it to be a stove shrub.

The Botanical Register, Vol. 30, 1844

Lindley

Pena, 1851

But let us back to Cintra. The summit of the mountain in the neighbourhood of the convent has been laid out in delightful shrubberies, interspersed with flowery parterres and pools of clear water: the soft nature of the rock greatly facilitated these various improvements, particularly where it had to be cut for pathways, or winding walks had to be made. From these graceful gardens there is a path that conducts the excursionist to the old Moorish Castle; the remains of this are on the peak, to the westward of that on which stands the convent " da Pena," and they overhang the town of Cintra. They comprise little but the fragments of venerable walls, curiously constructed along the rocky ridges and above the cavities. There are some ruins about half way up the hill, which are thought to be the remnants of a mezquita, or Moorish mosque. Part of the roof is still to be seen; and dim vestiges of stars, traced on a ground of blue, may be detected. Saracenic characters in some parts may be discovered scattered over the walls.
A quadrangular cistern, supposed to have been a bath in the time of the Moors, is found in another portion of the same enclosure. It is seventeen feet broad and fifty feet long, built of stone, and with a vaulted roof. The water it contains is always clear and limpid, and of almost exactly the same height at all seasons of the year. It is about four feet in depth. It is matter of surprise to all tourists, that so inexhaustible and copious a body of water should be found at this elevation, but a yet more considerable natural repository must be concealed somewhere in the " serra," to provide for all the abundant fountains and streams that in different places spring from the sides and the base of the steep, and which are stated to be unfailing, even after seasons of the severest drought.
These perpetual streams do not a little contribute to the charm of this neighbourhood, by the freshness and fertility they scatter around them with their playful and pearly spray. Cintra is celebrated for the extreme purity of its water, its diamond clearness, and its delicious coldness, which affords a charming contrast to the Lisbon water, which so often is tepid, that most horrible of states,—shillyshallying between cold and hot.

The Pena convent formerly belonged to the monks of the Jeronymite convent of Belem. It was King Emmanuel who built it on this steep and craggy rock—that rock which he had so frequently climbed in hopes of descrying the returning squadron of the enterprising Vascol da Gama, and from whose summit at length he had the good fortune to perceive it; for the king was the first to discover the homeward- bound fleet. After the monastery had been, like others, secularised and sold, the " Pena" became transferred to the hands of a private individual. His present majesty purchased it afterwards, in a dilapidated and neglected condition, and soon occupied himself in having it restored; or, rather, converted into a castellated palace, somewhat in the Norman or Gothic style, which flourished towards the end of the twelfth century.
Dr. Pflendler D'Ollensheim, in his little work entitled " Madera, Nice, y Andalucia," informs us that this building was undertaken and the works carried on beneath the superintendence of a German—Baron Eschiwege—in imitation of some of the ancient castles of Germany, such as the Rhein- fels and the venerable Schloss of Lachsembourg, in the neighbourhood of Vienna.
The same author declares that the air of this charming locality would be exceedingly beneficial to nervous or hypochondriacal patients. I dare say the medical information and observations of the doctor are very correct, but he made some mistakes in his book regarding persons.

[... ...]

But once more I must back to Cintra.
A large, fine tower, together with several lateral turrets, and noble walls, adorned with machicolated battlements—I believe that is the term—appear to be already quite completed. These and an open court enclose the two chief buildings. The whole of the palace is constructed, and bears the appearance of being shut in, between the elevated peaks of the rock and huge basaltic masses. The part of the roof we climbed up to was partially surrounded by a very handsome and richly-carved species of stone fence, half balustrade and half battlement.
Fair spread the varied scenes, far, far below us. We had not yet had climbing enough, and clambered still higher to a lofty turret. Thence the view was naturally even more magnificent than from the roof. The monastic features of the interior of the edifice have been, in many respects, revived or preserved. Both the chapel and the cloister remain almost precisely as they were in the days of the monks, save that a few partly-dilapidated portions have been restored, and several slight defects that originally were to be found there have been rectified with much skill and care. There is in the chapel a fine altar-piece of transparent jasper, richly inlaid with alabaster; this is carved in relievos, and it is surmounted with niches, for the reception of groups strikingly representing various passages of the New Testament, and environed by festoons of flowers, supported by pillars formed of black jasper. If a lighted candle is held behind the tabernacle, which is placed in the centre, it will reveal its transparency. An Italian artist is supposed to have executed the work by command of Dom John III.
The apartments of the palace, according to their majesties' particular directions, have been adorned with considerable simplicity, and have no pretensions to regal splendour. The guide who conducted us through the palace was a very quiet one, and did not worry us, as occasionally happens, with long accounts of uninteresting trifles. What a pest they sometimes are ! In fine old cathedrals, for instance, when you would pause and feel the dread religion of the place, you are teased by their constant interruptions; in some, I have been persecuted, by various interlopers and hangers-on, besides the legitimate tormentor,—the rightful plague, the generally necessary evil,—all anxious to do the honours of particular pictures or relics, and determined on trotting out certain poor, desecrated saints, who had anything remarkable about them, or their effigies,—for the inspection of the visitant.
A road of good breadth in the Cintra rock, partly exposed and partly walled in, after many serpentining bends, conducts to a drawbridge leading to the chief entrance of the castle, over which are suspended the royal arms of Portugal, together with those of Saxe-Coburg.

Stuart-Wortley, p. 132

Pena and Capuchos (Cork Convent) 1760

Letter XXVIII

Promontorium Lunae. Holes, and Holes, and Holes again. An odd evening walk. A chearful dinner. Coins dropped to a Mary Magdalen for a very good reason.

Cintra, Sept. 12. 1760.

I Have had the good luck to secure such a bed for to-night, and passed the day besides with so perfect a satisfaction, that the dirty canvas and uneven bricks are already forgotten. And so goes this fickle world ! A perpetual shifting from good to evil, and from evil to good. And now the natural order of things seems to require a description of the Royal Convent: but what I have seen to-day presses a great deal more upon my fancy, and my impatience of imparting to you a share of the pleasure I have received myself to-day, makes me invert the laws of narration without any great hesitation.

[219] This morning early I quitted this place along with my trufty Kelly. Leaving the mules and the horse at the inn, each of us got astride upon a jack-ass ; and so we went up a high and steep mountain to see a convent of Jeronimites which is on the summit of it.

That convent could formerly contain, near a dozen of inhabitants ; yet at present there are but four or five, because a part of it has been demolished by the earthquake. What is left of it consists of five or fix rooms supported by a portico that encloses a court-yard. This yard is paved chequer-wise with white and blue tiles of earthen ware, and so disposed as to collect all the rain-water into a cistern under it. The walls of the portico are likewise incrufted with such parti-colour'd tiles.

From the windows an extensive prospect is commanded, as that summit is near a mile higher than the level of the sea. The eye runs freely over an immense [220] tract of .country, too much of it quite barren.

The middle parts of the hill seem composed of numberless broken rocks, some as big as houses. Yet between rock and rock the Fathers have cultivated several small bits of ground, which furnish their little community with more pulse and herbage than they want. It is pity that no fruit-tree will grow there, becaufe of the sharp air and chilling mills: so that whatever fruit they have, is fetched every day from Cintra with their other provisions, and carried up to them upon asses of their own. But besides herbs and pulse they cultivate Turkey-corn, with which they make savour'y cakes for themselves and visitors, and feed poultry with the overplus.

To the summit of that mountain there is no access but by the path we went. Every other side consists of cliffs upon cliffs, inacceslible even to goats.

[221] As the church and the convent were originally built in a most solid manner, the earthquake had not strength enough to demolish them intirely, though it was felt as violent there as in any other part of Portugal: nor did any of the friars perish, though the whole mountain was horribly shaken. The church stands on the very spot that was formerly occupied by a Roman temple dedicated to the Moon, which had given the name of Promontorium Lunae to the hill. This scrap of erudition I got from one of the friars.

We stay'd thereabout two hours ; then came down, afoot, our jack-asses driven before us by the Negro. About mid-mountain I hired a guide to show us the way to another hill near two leagues from this. The fellow took us about and about through a pathless country, partly covered with loose pieces of rocks, partly heathy, and partly sandy. Yet from space to space we met with numbers of [222] fir and cork-trees, with some small oaks and a few other plants, that contribute to render several parts of it romantically beautiful.

The place we were going to, stands on the summit of another mountain no less high than the supposed Promontorium Lunae, called by the Portuguese Cabo de Roca, and by the English the Rock of Lisbon. I hope you have not forgot that Rock, and the pleasure it gave me when I saw it for the first time. It was the Cork-Convent on its summit I wanted to visit, and we reached it with some difficulty, as we went to it by a cross-road extremely rugged and steep, and over several precipices that demanded much attention both from us and from our asses.

The Cork-Convent is properly a hermitage ; and you have but one path to it under a kind of arch irregularly cut through a piece of rock by the hand of nature. That arch is about two hundred [223] steps below the hermitage, and all other parts near that summit are perfectly pathless and not to be clamber'd. . Near that arch we left our asses in the custody of our guide, and ascended the rest of the mountain a-foot. And here, ye Muses nine, I invoke your assiftance ! Help me to an adequate defcription of the oddest, wildest, most romantic, and most pleasing place that ever I was in!

The hermits had discover'd us from a-far ; therefore we found them ready to receive us. We bow'd, shook hands, and seem'd as pleased as if we had long been most intimate friends. The Father Superiour ask'd us whether we had dined, and being answer'd in the negative, dispatched one of his Friars to make something ready as fast as possible. He then took us to see the place which begins with a flat irregular area about forty yards square.

The area is fronted by a huge rock variously perforated ; and its various [224] perforations, caverns, or holes form the hermitage. The church of it is a hole; the sacristy a hole ; the confession-room a hole ; the kitchin a hole; the dormitory a hole ; the refectory a hole ; every cell a hole ; and the doors and windows of all these holes are still nothing else but so many other holes. But so narrow are those which form the doors of the cells, that should a man grow hydropic while in one of them, he never would be able to come out of it ; and the cells themselves are so small, that no tall friar when in his bed has room enough to extend his legs. Yet in them they lie at night upon straw-bags, after having taken the precaution to shut what they call their doors and windows with small planks.

Not one hole in the whole place deserves the epithet of spacious. The largest is that which they term the Kitchen. A French cook would be angry at the prostitution of so noble a word, but the friars are not so scrupulous. The smoke [225] of that kitchen is carried out by a cylindrical perforation over the fire-place.

Dame Nature indeed was in a merry mood when she took it into her fancy to form so whimsical a place. You cannot conceive what little help she received from art to fit it for its present inhabitants. The earthquake shook it to and fro, and, they say, with inconceivable violence. Yet that violence proved vain, and I do not wonder at it. The demolition of the hermitage cannot be effected but by the fall of the mountain.

What adds to the singularity of this natural edifice is that every part in it is covered with cork; the walls, floors, and all. And this is the reason why the English sailors call it the Cork-Convent. That cork prevents the bad effects of the dampness which would otherwife be very inconvenient, as many parts of its walls are cover'd with a thin moss, and the water distils through the pores of the rock in very small drops.

[226] From the hermitage they descend by a range of irregular steps to a piece of water and to their several spots of garden. Not far from that water there is another hole, in which one of their predecessors had the patience to live the last twenty years of his life, without ever quitting it day or night. At least you are told so by an inscription over that hole, absurdly supported by the testimony of the friars themselves, who were all born near two centuries after, according to the inscription, which I wish fairly destroy'd and the hole filled up for their own sake, as the place has no need of a lye to induce people to visit it. No human being could ever live in that hole for several reasons that I will forbear to tell.

I said that there is a piece of water on that eminence, which fertilizes several spots. The friars are all gardeners and have vegetables of various sorts in great abundance, but no fruit. The many [227] steps by which they descend to that water, they term humourously their evening walk ; and, abating the inconvenience of the steps, it is really a pleasant walk, shaded with many trees and bushes. After having visited the whole hermitage we went to dinner. In the midst of that hole that is called the Refectory a stone serves them for a table whenever the rain forces them to eat their victuals under shelter. But to-day, as the weather was very fine, we chose to dine in the area. Being a meagre day we had an ample dish of salt-fish moft favourily drefs'd after the manner of the country with garlick and pimenta, a large sallad, and Dutch cheese with pears, apples, grapes, and figs, ten times more than we could eat, good bread, and excellent wine. During dinner the hermits kept us in chat with the greatest good humour ; told us of the many English gentlemen and ladies that visit them, and help'd us to our glasses very briskly. The wine [228] was was good, and we could not help drinking the English Ladies.

These hermits are of the Franciscan order; therefore will touch no money : but there is a Mary Magdalen painted over a kind of altar in the church; and to Mary Magdalen you drop a coin slily. It would not otherwise be in the power of this little community to furnish their numerous visitors with meat and drink, and entertain besides a good number of poor people who visit the place, partly out of devotion and partly to get a meal. They admit ladies to visit the hermitage when they are in company with gentlemen ; otherwife not: and as to women of low rank, they are not allowed to ascend beyond the Arch mentioned before, except on fome festival days.

About an hour after dinner we took our leave and went back to our asses who had leisurely cropp'd the thistles about, while our guide and the Negro feasted merrily upon herrings, cheese, and fruit, [229] convey'd to them with a sufficient quantity of bread and wine by one of the fathers.

And now I may truly say that I have feen the strangest solitude that ever was inhabited by men, amidst the most pleasing assemblage of craggs, rocks, trees, and bushes that can possibly be fancied ; the whole commanding a most wide and amazing prospect, as from thence you discover a vast tract of the ocean with many of the caftles and habitations at the mouth of the Tagus, the tops of the Royal Convent of Mafra, several villages and hamlets, with many single cottages scatter'd over a long chain of uneven mountains, some of which are perfectly rocky and barren; some shaded with oaks, fir-trees, and cork-trees; and some cover'd with vines, olive-trees, and lemon or orange-groves, besides numberless other plants of every kind and generation.

Baretti

A month in Portugal (1854)

[144] I went to Cintra early in the morning by omnibus, with my kind conductor of yesterday and two of his friends, all Englishmen. I should have preferred spending this day in Lisbon, as being one of the chief festivals of the year, it would have enabled me both to attend Divine Service myself, and to see something of the religious habits of the Portuguese capital; but as the omnibus only went and returned on alternate days, this was my sole opportunity of seeing Cintra, with Byron's description of which in Childe Harold, I had been familiar from early boyhood. The road from Lisbon is very good, but there is nothing particularly interesting in the country through which one passes. In the village of Bemfica we went by the residence of the Count de Farroba, which is considered the most splendid nobleman's residence in Portugal. The ground in front was very tastefully laid out with turf, flowers, and shrubs, but we could not see much of the house. We also came in view of the palace of Queluz, which stands some distance from the road, and has been a favourite residence of some of the Portuguese sovereigns. Here Dom Pedro breathed his last. As we got towards the [145] end of our journey, we passed near another royal habitation, the palace of Ramalhao; but it has been for some years unoccupied and unfurnished. The first view of Cintra, as it is entered in this direction, is wild and rugged, consisting principally of a succession of rocky peaks, rising to an immense elevation in naked barrenness. When, however, it is fairly reached, there are other features added to the scene, which quite change its character. Below these rocks, which seem to have been formed by some natural convulsion, is a mountain height covered with all kinds and degrees of verdure, sloping down into a valley of the sweetest luxuriance. 'The village itself stands half-way up,—nestled as it were in the bosom of the hill,—amidst groves of pine and cork, orange and lemon trees, with a profusion of geraniums and evergreens of all kinds.' [Diary of an Invalid, p. 15] ' It contains,' says Lord Byron, ' beauties of every description, natural and artificial. Palaces and gardens rising in the midst of rocks, cataracts, and precipices, convents and stupendous heights—a distant view of the sea and the Tagus......... It unites in itself all the wildness of the western Highlands, with the verdure of the south of France.' [Life and Works, vol. i, p.280] All this is true, and yet I must confess, the scenery of Cintra somewhat disappointed me. This perhaps arose from the extravagant ideas I had conceived of it at a very early age, which, it may be, no scenery would have been able fully to satisfy: and again, from my having beheld views and objects during my present tour, with which what I gazed on here, beautiful as it was, would [146] yet not stand a comparison. However it was well worth visiting, and I am very glad that I visited it. Perhaps the words of Mr. Southey convey as accurate a description of it as can be given—' It is,' says he, ' more beautiful than sublime, more grotesque than beautiful.' [Letters, &c., p. 510]

We arrived at the end of our journey about ten o'clock, and took up our quarters at Durand's Hotel, where we were made very comfortable, at a moderate expense. After breakfast we walked to the palace of the Marquis Marialva, said to have been the place where the Convention of Cintra was signed, though in reality it had no connexion with it, as the Convention was arranged, settled, and signed, thirty miles off. It is a large, good looking mansion, with an open space before it of some extent, much frequented on summer evenings as a promenade. We next mounted our mules and rode to Montserrat, where Mr. Beckford, ' England's wealthiest son, Once formed his paradise.' The situation is very beautiful, on the brow of an eminence projecting from the serra, and commanding in every direction views of the most lovely character. The house, however—a Grecian villa, in the construction and decoration of which, there had been no lack of either taste or expenditure—is now in ruins, ' as if a thing un-blest by man.'
' Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow To halls deserted, portals gaping wide ; Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom, how Vain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied; Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide !'

[147] There is in fact an air of desolation about the whole scene, house and grounds together, the more remarkable and melancholy from its modern character. We are, in some degree, reconciled to Time having done his work on an ancient edifice, but to see a building, so to speak, of yesterday in ruins, is contrary to our expectations, and has in it something peculiarly saddening. We next proceeded through the valley of Collares, watered by natural streams, and abounding in orange groves and orchards, and thus affording a delightful contrast to the mountain that rises above it,—to the far-famed rock of Lisbon, the most westerly point of the European continent. This is a most remarkable spot. Some distance from the edge of the precipice, which rises perpendicularly out of the ocean to a height of about three hundred feet, we looked down a hole and could see the sea and hear its roar, which by continually chafing against the rock, had worked itself a way beneath the spot where we were standing. We advanced to the edge. The view of the ocean, bright and blue, and of the romantic coast consisting of bold projections, intermingled with sharp and lofty rocks, was truly sublime. It was almost fearful to look below; but what will the reader think, when he is told that down and up this rock ran several men and boys, (who, with a number more, had followed us from a neighbouring village,) without any support but what nature had afforded them, for the mere purpose of exhibiting their skill, and obtaining a small sum in return ? The breeze which is constantly blowing from the sea, must, I imagine, serve in some degree to keep them up; but still the slightest slip on their part, or any [148] want of firmness in the rock where they happened to tread, could hardly fail of being attended with instant destruction. It really filled us with horror to gaze upon them; and yet it would have been impossible to prevent them from thus endangering themselves. The guide of our party, my yesterday's lionizer, told us that he once accompanied two of his friends to this spot, strangers, who requested him not to permit any of the people to run this fearful risk. He accordingly told them that he had been directed by his friends to promise them two crusados, on condition that they kept away from the rock, but that if they went down, they should not have a single vintem. All however was to no purpose. Down they would go; and when they came up, because the visitors were as good as their word, they set to and pelted them. This exploit, which they are so fond of exhibiting, has apparently been handed down from generation to generation. Beckford gives a description of its performance when he was here, nearly seventy years ago. When we had reached Collares on our way back, we varied our route by returning to Cintra by the high road. We passed various mansions and quintas belonging to different members of the Portuguese nobility and gentry, into one of which we entered for the purpose of drinking of a mineral spring. The possessors of these places evidently take much delight in their gardens, and pay great attention to the raising of plants and flowers; of which the more choice ones are distinguished, as in English nurseries, by labels bearing their names. The water of Cintra is noted for its excellence and frigidity. It flows down from the mountains in numberless rills, [149] which are never known to fail even in the driest season. The climate, again, is most refreshing and delicious. Along these mountain heights, with the sea so near, there is no want of exhilarating breezes even in the most sultry time. In the summer season it must be a residence perfectly luxurious. The people of Lisbon are happy in having such a spot so near, nor is it to be wondered that they so generally avail themselves of it. Rents, too, here are very low. A palace built for one of the royal dukes was pointed out to me, which was offered to be let for twenty-five pounds a year; whilst for a family in private life, a convenient house might be procured at the rate of seven or eight pounds. I ought to have said that the road along which we passed, was as good as could be desired. It was formerly far otherwise, but had been recently repaired, and if I rightly remember, was much indebted for its improvement to the aid and influence of the Pope's Nuncio. He was spoken of as a man of much public spirit, always ready and anxious to cooperate in measures conducive to the general good. We reached our hotel between five and six o'clock, and closed the day with a sociable and pleasant dinner. We retired to rest early, and assembled again in good time on the morrow, when immediately after breakfast we bent our steps to the royal palace. This is a large irregular building, of Moorish origin, as is evident from its architecture and construction, but with many additions from successive Portuguese Sovereigns. I went over it with great interest, having never before seen a building of similar character. The windows, on the exterior, were surrounded with arabesque ornaments. [150] One of the rooms, with (I think) a marble floor, contained in its centre a circular reservoir, filled with water, around which, it was said, its first inhabitants used to luxuriate in the heat of the day. There are also fountains and jets d'eau to be met with in other parts, one of which, in a court adjoining the bath-room, is sometimes employed to besprinkle visitors unawares. All these bring to mind the founders of the palace : but it is also rich in historical reminiscences of a later date. Thus one room is pointed out, in which the unfortunate Sebastian held his last audience and the chair in which he sat, before he set out on his unhappy expedition into Africa, from which he never returned. Another, with a handsome tiled floor, part of which is worn by the footsteps of D. Affonso VI, who was here kept prisoner for the last fifteen years of his life, after he had been most deservedly compelled to abdicate the throne. Another, the roof of which is adorned with the royal arms of Portugal, the escutcheons of the sons and daughters of D. Manoel, and those of the Portuguese nobility, of which, however, two have been removed—those of the families of Aveiro and Tavora, from their having been suspected of being concerned in the attempt on the life of D. Jose in 1758. To this apartment, which is now used as a billiard-room, there is a magnificent marble door-way of Moorish architecture ; and from its windows, with the aid of a glass, we had a very good view of the palace of Mafra. Interesting, however, as this palace is, yet considered as a royal residence, it is very deficient. The bed-rooms are very small; the furniture is shabby and scanty ; even the private apartments of the late Queen though comfortable, [151] Were but little more. We were however much struck with the vast dimensions of a mahogany bed which she used to occupy. Two young English midshipmen, whose ship was lying in the Tagus, opposite Lisbon, once came to Ciutra, climbed up into the palace, threw down a cross, and danced on this bed. For this outrageous conduct they were on the point of being sent back to England, and dismissed the service; but at her Majesty's especial request, this was not carried into effect. They were however very deservedly confined to the ship, and no more allowed to come on shore, whilst the vessel remained at Lisbon. I mention this circumstance as a specimen of the Queen's forbearance and kindness of heart, which secured her the love, and alas! the regret, of all her subjects. But to proceed with the palace—The architecture of the Chapel is of a Christian character, but the walls are whitewashed, the floor is of brick, and the windows are partly blocked up. There is a tribune for the royal family on the south side, near the high altar. Before we left, we went into the kitchen, but it contained nothing remarkable except two immense chimneys, shaped like Birmingham glass-houses, which form a conspicuous feature in the building when viewed on the outside.

Having here satisfied our curiosity, we mounted our mules to climb the heights, for which Cintra is so celebrated. First, however, we stopped at the quinta of the Marquis de Vianna, access to which is kindly permitted to the public. The house is a neat looking building, and the gardens are very pretty and extensive. We here saw a swan on a small piece of water, followed by a number of gold fish, with which he appeared to be on [152] the best of terms. We next ascended to the fountain of St. Euphemia, of which we drank, and then went on to the Chapel, at the back of which is an inscription, stating that she was the daughter of a heathen king of Braga— that her mother had eight sons at one birth, all of whom were put to death by him, A. D. 125, for having embraced Christianity—that through her intercession, wounds and diseases (particularly the itch) are cured by drinking of her fountain; and that this inscription is placed over the foot-print which she left, when she last appeared on earth, A. D. 1757. If we may judge from the mark, stated to be the impress of her foot, she would appear to have been a lady of no ordinary weight and dimensions. We next proceeded to the Pena Convent, which formerly belonged to the Jeromites of Belem, and stands on one of the highest peaks of the Serra. This is the ' toppling convent' celebrated by Lord Byron, wherewith 'the horrid rocks are crowned.' It has been purchased by the King Regent, who at much expense, and with great taste and judgment, is restoring it in the Moorish style, for a private palace. It was originally founded by D. Manoel, on the spot whence he was the first to descry the fleet of Vasco da Gama, for which he had so often watched, returning from its Indian expedition. ' From this elevation,' says Southey, 'the eye stretches over a bare and melancholy country to Lisbon on the one side, and on the other to the distant Convent of Mafra, the Atlantic bounding the greater part of the prospect. I never beheld a view that so effectually checked the wish of wandering. Had I been born at Cintra, methinks no inducement could have tempted me to leave its delightful [153] springs and shades, and cross the dreary wilderness that insulates them.' [Letters, &c., p. 511.] The King, in his restoration, is preserving, as much as possible, the monastic character of the building; but I fancy the grounds below must present a somewhat different aspect from what they wore under their former proprietors. They are now laid out as tasteful and elegant gardens, wherein are cultivated the choicest fruits, the rarest and most beautiful flowers. We walked from these having ordered our mules to meet us at a spot below, along a path which leads to the ruins of a Moorish castle, on the summit of the next elevation. This was the last place in Portugal from which the Moors were driven. There is now but little of it remaining. Just below is a stone quadrangular cistern, with a vaulted roof, which is supposed to have been a Moorish bath. A spring of the purest water rises within it, and keeps it constantly full. Still farther down are the ruins of a mosque, to which however we could not obtain admission, as the woman in charge was unable to produce the key. With a view of the different ruins on this peak we brought our morning's rambles to a close, and returned to our hotel; whence, early in the evening, we started back in the omnibus for Lisbon, where we arrived after a drive of about two hours. I was glad to rejoin the companion of my tour at the Braganza, and to give him an account of what I had seen since we parted.

A month in Portugal.
Joseph Oldknow
London Longman & Co. 1855

Camellias in Portugal (Edward Hyams, 1960 )

My title this week is slightly fraudulent, for although I do indeed want to say something about camellias, it is really an excuse to write about the Portuguese gardens I have been looking at during the past few days. all public gardens, and all with camellias in flower, as indeed, the camellias in the West Country, not much less than a thousand miles further north, are, as to the earlies, in flower. Which is one more item of evidence that we have the best gardening climate in the world.

Because their delicate flowers can be kept at perfection for much longer by giving these shrubs the protection of glass, the myth that camellias are not hardy has been widely propagated. The fact is they are quite as hardy as the hardy rhododendrons, and incidentally, require the same kind of soil, although I doubt whether they are quite so implacably ‘calicifuge’. I have three specimens, two very small and one medium-sized and growing fast : all are on the north wall of the house, which delays their flowering, so that the flowers when they appear are not exposed to damage by morning sun after night frost. I noticed that even in Portugal persistent rain, although it was warm rain, browns the edges of the petals, especially of the white and pale rose varieties.

One of the best displays of camellias I have ever seen – as of rhododendrons – was at Heligan, in Cornwall, where plants of both these genera have attained tree size. But there is an avenue of tree-sized camellias as far east as Battle Abbey, in Sussex. Not for years, however, have I seen anything like the camellia garden of the Penha [Pena] palace near Sintra, in Portugal : I do not know its extent, but one can walk for a long time by winding, cobbled paths among coppices of camellias some of which are certainly twenty feet tall, and all of which are large, healthy and free-flowering. The flowers are every shade of rose-pink to deep crimson, and one or two of the shrubs flowered almost orange, while many were white. I saw no singles, which is a pity, for I think them even more beautiful than the doubles. In fact, I fancy that a real camellia specialist would criticise this lovely garden on the grounds that, although well kept like all the Portuguese gardens I saw, there have been few recent plantings of new and improved varieties, such as those produced from the Chinese species Camellia saluensis, and C. x williamsi. But this is carping: a garden must be considered as an integral work of art, not a botanical collection, and on those terms the Penha Palace camellia garden, with the sound of running water for ever in one’s ears, the hilly site, the interplantings of great New Zealand tree-ferns, rhododendrons, exotic conifers, araucarias, the splashes of golden yellow from the mimosa and other acacias – many of them large trees, growing beyond the camellia zone – and the way in which resting-places have been contrived at points which give one a view over the garden so that one can see the whole beauty of the camellias in flower, is one of the finest in the world.

In a sense, the Penha Palace garden is an English garden, in so far as it is laid out with consummate art to suggest nature. This is equally true of another remarkable garden, also very rich in camellias, not very far away – I think it was about a fifteen-minute drive, certainly not more – the garden of Monserrat [Monserrate]. But as it was, apparently, made by an Englishman (I had some difficulty in understanding the name as pronounced by my Portuguese driver, but I think it was Sir Herbert Cook), the Bodnant-like layout is not surprising. I use that comparison advisedly, for I was reminded of Bodnant by the extreme hilliness of the site, the maze-like wanderings of innumerable, well kept paths, the ubiquity of water, and the art with which species from the four corners of the earth had been combined to produce a natural landscape of tranquillising beauty which yet could never have happened in nature; that is, without the aid of a skilled artist-gardener.

Since I have compared Bodnant to Monserrat it should be said that Bodnant brings together more, and horticulturally more interesting, species. Monserrat is now Government property, and it is very well kept, but the hand of a master-gardener, breeding new hybrid shrubs and constantly planting the best new varieties, the hand, in short, of a Charles Puddle at Bodnant, is missing. But that having been said, this enormous Portuguese garden – where for an hour and a half after I was due out I still wandered, completely lost – is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. Of the shrubs and trees, camellias, a very early cream and mauve rhododendron, acacias, including florists’ mimosa, mahonias in several species, and various prunus and pyrus ornamentals were in flower (January 20). The scent of the mimosa and the sound of water from streams and waterfalls filled the garden as a background to birdsong. Oh, yes, and magnolias, their vast heads of bllom standing out very handsomely against such strange garden-fellows as tree-ferns nine or ten feet tall and colossal agaves, and overtopped only by tall palms and eucalyptus trees.

Camellias, again, are a feature of the municipal gardening in Lisbon itself. Lisbon is a city of outstanding charm in two kinds : on the one hand, the old, very steep, winding and richly coloured streets of the ancient city – not so ancient, really since most of it was destroyed in the great earthquake which features in Voltaire’s Candide – and on the other, magnificent, broad double avenues, with two or four carriageways separated by gardens. In those gardens, those in the Avenida de la Libertad [Avenida da Liberdade], for example, I saw not only camellias in flower, but numerous annuals and perennials as different in kind as stocks and marigolds, and arum lily and Strelitzia regina, the latter with its strange orange and blue flowers like the head of a crane or heron. To the most remarkable of the gardens of Lisbon, however, I propose to devote a whole page – the covered, tropical garden called the ‘Estufa Fria’, at one end of the lovely Edward VII Park, is worth all that. Meanwhile, to return to camellias, in a more brass-tacks spirit for the benefit of gardeners who have never tried planting them, but might like to try now that the myth of their tenderness has been disposed of.

Edward Hyams
Originally published in the Illustrated London News,
February 20, 1960

Pleasure from Plants
London, Longmans, 1966
pp. 135-138

Fair Lusitania : Castello da Peña

FAIR LUSITANIA

Lady Jackson
Jackson, Catherine Hannah Charlotte Elliott, lady, d. 1891
London, R. Bentley and Son
1874


Chapter XIV

THE CASTELLO DA PEÑA, ETC.

We had finished our breakfast of coffee, pão Hespanhol, fresh Cintra butter, strawberries, peaches, and figs, before the burrinhos had yet made their appearance. They had been ordered on our way, before entering the “Hospedaria Lawrence;" but the man who owned them of course concealed the fact that the animals were then in the market-place, and
had been employed since the early morning in carrying market produce to and fro. He, however, informed us of it as an excuse for the delay, forgetting that he had exacted much more than he was entitled to, on account of the greater extent than was usual, as he hinted, of the excursion we then proposed to make. But the donkeys were more honest than their owner. Evidently they had an inkling of what was before them, and not being disposed to carry us up to the Peña, they absolutely declined to be mounted. We dismissed them, but it cost them a flogging, poor brutes. Being provided with fresh ones, we set off on our expedition, at a trot.

Why one should be obliged to go jolting up the hill on donkeys I cannot conceive. The road is much [178] improved since I last climbed it, and is so good — for, though winding, the ascent is very gradual — that pony-carriages or donkey-chaises might be used. I very soon dismounted, and walked more than half the way up, using the donkey only at the steepest parts ; for the wretched old seat that did duty as a saddle could not be kept in its place, and I was obliged, therefore, to be ever on the qui vive to avoid getting an awkward
fall.

We were soon overtaken by a party of ten or twelve Spanish ladies and gentlemen, and exchanged vivas with them. Two of their number followed my example of walking, and were, they said, relieved by it. Truly, we had in some parts of the road a good depth of sand
to wade through ; still it was less fatiguing than jolting up the whole distance on donkey-back. We were more at liberty, too, to look about us than when engaged in checking the meanderings of our beasts, or urging them forward when it was their good pleasure to
stand still.

Some parts of the ascent are thickly shaded by lofty forest trees, and at intervals there are grottoes, and fountains with large drinking-troughs, and seats where weary pilgrims may rest a while under the waving branches of the graceful pepper-trees, and be not only
thankful but happy ; for, Cintra,

" Quem descançado a fresca sombra tua
Sonhou senão venturas ? "

Almeida Garret.

" Who, Cintra, e'er rested beneath thy shady bowers
Ajid dreamt of aught but happiness ? "

[179] On the right are the lofty and jagged mountain peaks; beneath them, that wondrous melange of massive grey stones, clusters of pines, hanging shrubs, sparkling waterfalls, and luxuriant vegetation, through which is traced the castellated wall leading to the Castello de Mouros. On the left, a vast stretch of undulating ground lies below, fertilized by many a
streamlet that has foamed down the mountain's side, and covered with a succession of gardens and orange groves — forming a picture less wildly romantic than the first, yet not yielding to it in poetic beauty.

A party of English lately from Cintra excused their want of admiration of its beauties by saying they were familiar with the scenery of the Isle of Wight. Doubtless the scenery of the little island is, in certain parts, bold and beautiful ; but it bears no resemblance to that of Cintra, whose rocky heights are far loftier and grander, and its vegetation far richer
and more varied. You might with as much propriety compare the view of London from Greenwich Park with that of Lisbon from Almada — as it has been compared by an extremely British John Bull, giving, of course, the preference to the Greenwich view. Pro-
bably both views are finer now than when the invidious comparison was made, for I read it in an old book of travels of 1816 or 1817.

Some persons, too, contend that Cintra owes to the enthusiasm of Byron and other modern poets its 'prestige for beauty. But it is more probable that it owes it to its beauty alone. Before Byron wrote, both Lisbon and Cintra were better known and more fre- [180] quently visited by the English than they are now, except perhaps by mercantile people; for it was then customary for consumptive persons to seek relief from their malady by wintering in Lisbon, and few probably extended their visit far enough into the spring without spending some time at Cintra. I have some letters written by a lady who was here with her daughters in 1791. She says : " While staying at this enchanting spot I have read Milton's ‘Paradise Lost,’ and have been much struck by his description of Paradise, from its resemblance to this place. It is, in fact, a description of Ointra, and the only one I ever read that at all does it justice." And in many respects this is true; for of Cintra it might truly be said —

" And overhead upgrew
Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm,
A sylvan scene ; and as the ranks ascend
Shade above shade, a woody theatre
Of stateliest view."

This and much more that follows may apply to Cintra ; but in the description of Eden there enters not that of the bold crags and cliffs of a rocky coast, and the view, so grand and sublime, of the boundless ocean.

Many pens have attempted to describe Cintra — I know of none but Beckford's that has succeeded in making its beauty felt; and he does not so much attempt to describe the place, as the effect of its spell-like loveliness on his sensitive and poetic temperament. He wrote of it between 1788 and 1794, and I can imagine that Cintra was even more lovely then than [181] now — at least it was more out of the reach of pleasure-seeking invaders. There were neither races nor bullfights, but probably there were fairies and wood-nymphs, or you might fancy so; for it is just that sort of enchanted and enchanting region where, if
anywhere, the existence of such beings may be believed in. The glowworms and fireflies that perhaps lighted the fairy revels still linger here. You may see them in the summer evenings, and as you saunter along the " Passeio dos Amores" — the Lovers' Walk — or
other shady grove. But not sauntering alone ; for the beauties of nature seem more beautiful still when a companion of sympathetic tastes shares with you in your delight in and admiration of them. There, as you listen to the warbling of the nightingales, while the moonbeams are peeping through the foliage, and the softest of zephyrs are stealing through it laden with the odours of the orange, the jasmine, and myrtle-blossoms, mingled with the perfume of roses and lavender and heliotrope and all other sweet things, you may
fancy, as you breathe this balmy atmosphere, that seems too pure, too ethereal for earth, that you have at least reached the threshold of Paradise.

At last we have climbed the hill, and without much fatigue, considering that we are a thousand mètres above the level of the sea. We enter a fine broad avenue, a vast leafy bower formed by the stately forest trees that unite their long branches overhead, and a few
paces bring us to the castellated Palace of the Rock — the Castello da Peña — the mountain home of the rei artista, Dom Pernando. [182] For a time we kept up with the Spanish party,
and had some snatches of conversation with two or three of them ; for Spaniards and Portuguese often converse together with perfect facility, each in his own language, yet each, in the pride of his distinct nationality, professing ignorance of the language of the other. These people were hoth lively and courteous. They suggested that we should make but one company of pilgrims ; for which suggestion, without acceding to it, we thanked them in the usual high-flown, complimentary, conventional style. Gradually we lagged behind, for we expected a member of the king's household to admit us to parts of the castle usually closed
to visitors when Dom Pernando is residing at Cintra. Just at this moment, also, a very wary eye is kept on all Spaniards visiting the palaces, churches, and public institutions; for the number of fires that occur every night in Lisbon rather increases than diminishes, and
as the cause of them is rarely discovered, they are attributed to the concealed emissaries of the Spanish revolutionists ; consequently the attendants at the public buildings have strict orders, as one of them informed me, never to leave a party of those “malditos
Hespanhoes” — cursed Spaniards — for one moment alone.

A drawbridge leads to the principal entrance of the castle. On the gates are the arms of Portugal and Saxony, and surmounting them is the figure of an armed knight with spear and shield, the latter bearing the arms of the Baron Echwege, under whose direction the engineering works pro- [183] jected here by the king, Dom Eernando, have been
carried out.

It is usual on entering the grounds to take a guide, to lead you through all the windings and turnings of this charming labyrinth of shrubberies and gardens. The donkeys are taken by their drivers to the other side of the castle, by a pathway cut round the mountain ; and on leaving the grounds by that side you find your monture waiting for you outside the gates. Two or three men presented themselves as guides, naming a large fee for their services, and protesting it was very little before even they were questioned about it. But there was a youthful guide among them, a tall, slim lad of about fourteen, in a dark blue woollen dress and red belt. He was barefooted, and stood apart silently and modestly, with his long red woollen cap in his hand, waiting the result of what must have seemed to lookers-on very like a quarrel between his older and rougher companions. But they were merely vehemently supporting each other's pretensions, and so that one of their number was engaged on his own terms they would have been well enough contented; for they share their gains, I believe, and are privileged to get as much as they can from visitors. I liked the
appearance of the boy guide. His dark, soft, gazelle eyes, intelligent face, and quiet manner formed a pleasant contrast to the noisy, raving men, and their “much ado about nothing.” My choice fell upon him as our conductor. The men shrugged their shoulders, and seemed to imply that he was an ignoramus. I thought him picturesque and sympathico. “O ! sim, [184] senhora, sim” he answered, when I inquired if he knew well all the ins and outs of the grounds. That was enough ; the stories and legends of the castle were already known to us — and besides, it is not always pleasant to be too much guided.

“And what shall we pay you ? “ I asked. " Whatever the senhora pleases," he almost whispered, glancing timidly at the men. But they heard him, and up went their shoulders again. This time it was in contemptuous pity for the poor young guide, whose simplicity
they, of course, thought we should take advantage of to the extent of a vintem or two.

It is scarcely possible, at least for my pen, to give an adequate idea of the varied beauty of the pleasure grounds of the Castello da Pena. Every rise and fall of the mountain summit has been turned to account, and the grandest views are obtained from different points — the plains and fertile valleys stretching for miles away ; the mountains of Alemtejo and Estramadura ; the Estrella, and other buildings on the heights of Lisbon ; and, most sublime of all, the bold cliffs and crags of the Cintra range, and, beyond them, the broad, boundless expanse of the Atlantic.

What glorious sunsets may be seen here ! There is nothing to interrupt the view, for the towers and turrets of this aerial abode rise high above the peaks of the mountain, and when the gloom of approaching night has overspread the valleys of Cintra, they still are tinged with the lingering golden gleams of the setting sun.

There are plots of verdure, green as the green hills [185] of Kent, and hedgerows of geraniums — a mass of pink, white, and violet blossoms — of itself a beautiful sight.
The gardens are most tastefully laid out, and kept in perfect order. North and south ; the torrid, frigid, and temperate zones, seem to have contributed their choicest flowers, shrubs, and trees for their adornment ; and when transplanted to this favoured spot they attain to a size and beauty unknown in their native soil.

Broad walks are cut in the soft parts of the rock, and little rills flow along the side of pathways densely shaded by the intertwined boughs of spreading trees, forming long cloistered avenues of foliage, impervious to the sun's fiercest rays, and pleasantly cool in the hottest season. Where the rills swell into rivulets they are crossed by pretty rustic bridges, or some graceful fountain is supplied by them. There are kiosques, pavilions, aviaries, and summer-houses, and seats placed to command some beautiful sea view or
landscape, or to afford shelter from the glare of sunlight while you rest beneath an archway of leaves and flowers.

As we passed along the winding path down to the greenhouse and the flower-beds called the Jardim de Madama — Madama being the Condessa d'Edla, the wife of Dom Fernando — a snake lay coiled up close to the edge of a small pooL Our guide sought for a stone to throw at it, but as soon as the creature espied us it darted into the water. It was full three feet in length, and finely mottled, but whether venomous or not I cannot say. It was not a familiar sight to the [186] boy, who was anxious to wait and watch lor its re-
appearance that we might endeavour to kill it. However, this was not sport to my fancy, so we wandered on, admiring by the way the tufts of flowers, so artistically scattered amongst mossy grey stones and projections of rock that they seem carelessly flung there by
the hand of nature.

Many bushes of white and tinted camellias flourish in these gardens, and other plants so rare in these latitudes that the specimens found here are the only known ones either in Portugal or Spain. The collection of greenhouse exotics is of surpassing beauty. The gardener who showed them, and who seemed to take great pride in them, was so much delighted with my reiterated “Bellissima ! bellissima!” that he gave me the history of several of his floral treasures, and promised me full particulars of his method of treating others when he should have, as he said, “ o mui grande prazer ” of seeing the senhora again. But I fear all
his horticultural erudition was thrown away upon me, for when I left his glass palace I remembered only the exquisite loveliness of his flowers.

Perhaps I need scarcely tell you that the magnificent Norman-Gothic castle, perched, as if by magic, on these lofty peaks, is partly constructed from the ruins of the old convent founded in 1503 by Dom Manoel, for the Jeronymite monks, and dedicated to
Nossa Senhora da Peiia — Our Lady of the Rock. While my companion, accompanied by the boy guide, went in quest of the cicerone who was to show us some part of the castle, I sat down on a stone tablet, under [187] the windows of one of the private apartments, and
heside some steps leading to an open door, over which was a projection of stone, carved in the most fanciful and capricious designs. Presently, I heard voices in conversation ; then snatches of song to a piano accompaniment. After a little of this preluding, a female
voice, of no great power, but sweet and thrilling and evidently well cultivated, sang an air of a somewhat tender, melancholy cast. On that spot, where all around was so Avell calculated to excite the imagination, the voice of the unseen songstress seemed to me as that of some enchanted or spell-hound inmate of the magic palace. Elowers bloomed at my side, and
before me a creeping plant, trained on plaited twigs or trellice-work, formed a wall of leaves. There were towers and turrets in sight, and a very monastic-looking archway — the sort of surroundings to induce a pleasant dreamy state of mind, and to favour indulgence in it for a brief moment. Suddenly the singing ceased. I heard it no more; and saw no one
until the return of my companions, when I learned that I had been listening to the singing and playing of the Condessa d'Edla and Dom Eernando, and that they had probably left the castle by some other door, as they were going down to the lakes to fish.

When the monastery was purchased by Dom Fernando from the person into whose possession it had come after the secularization of religious houses in Portugal, it was fast falling to ruin. But such portions of it as remained in a fair state of preservation or could
be repaired — such as parts of the outer wall and the [188] turrets — were retained and turned to account in the plan sketched out for the rebuilding and remodelling of the edifice. The high tower — from which, it is said, Dom Manoel used to watch for the return of the fleet of Vasco da Gama from the exploring expedition to India — had fallen in, and has been rebuilt; and there have been added square turrets and cupolas, castellated
walls, courts, and arched passages, a drawbridge and fosses.

The carvings which adorn every archway and entrance, every projecting window, and framework of the doors, both within and without, are most elaborate, elegant, and full of inventive fancy. The style of the furniture corresponds with that of the architecture.
The principal dining-room is of large size ; the centre is supported by pillars, and contains a large horse-shoe dining-table.

The castle terrace commands a prospect of great extent, but it is not so pleasing as the view from some other parts, the country being less fertile in that direction and very slightly undulated. It reminded me of the view from the terrace-walk at Saint Germain, which,
I think, is celebrated more for its extent than for beauty or diversity in the landscape.

Trom the terrace, a lofty flight of steps leads to the church and cloister, which are those of the old convent, and remain in their original state. They are small, but exceedingly interesting. We were urged to examine closely the beautiful sacrario of the high altar, and were led, or rather pulled, in between it and the altar table. I thought it an irreverent, if not a sacrilegious act. [189] However, it was a Roman Catholic's, not a Protestant's suggestion that led to it.

The sacrario is of transparent alabaster, beautifully sculptured in basso relievo. The subject is the Passion of our Saviour. It is designed with so much skill, and the workmanship is so delicate and highly finished, that, of its kind, this altar-piece is considered unequalled in the kingdom. It is supported by long garlands of flowers, carved from the same precious alabaster, and gracefully festooned on pillars of black porphyry. I was told that when a lamp is placed in it the effect is beautiful, and that sufficient light is emitted for the priest officiating at the altar to read by. It was made in Italy for Dom Joao the Third, the son
of Dom Manoel, and presented by him to the Peña convent in 1529. It is extraordinary that the French, who despoiled the convent of everything worth carrying away, did not contrive to remove this beautiful work of art.

There is a small painted window in the church, said to be of the same date. It represents Vasco da Gama on his knees before Dom Manoel, who holds before him, as if for his admiration, what looks something like a bird-cage, but is meant for a model of the Torre de
Belem. In the cloister is another small painted window, and two or three curious ancient pictures. The church and cloister now form the private chapel of the castle.

Returning to the terrace, I noticed the little Swiss farm in the plain below. It is called “the Chalet de Madama,” and is something in the style of the chalet [190] of the Petit Trianon. From the terrace we went down to the lakes. They are picturesquely pretty. Here and there on their banks are large drooping willows and immense bushes of fuchsia, planted close to the water's edge, and leaning forward with their bunches of pendent flowers lying on the surface of the lake. Here we again fell in with the Spanish party, whom we had not met with in our rambles through the pleasure grounds. They were waiting to see Dom
Fernando and his Condessa, who had not yet made their appearance ; but the little skiff, with the fishing tackle and all needful appurtenances, and the boatmen in charge, were in readiness for them.

We did not wait for the embarkation of the fishing party, but after strolling through some prettily laid out garden ground near the lakes, we took leave of our boy guide — he, I believe, as well satisfied with us as we had been with him — and, passing through some large iron gates, went on to the Castello de Mouros. It is on a lower eminence, not far from the Pena. There is but little to see there except the cistern, or vaulted Moorish bath, which I am told is forty-five feet in length and sixteen in breadth. The water that flows into it is
beautifully clear, and remains always at the same level. The outer wall of this castle has been repaired by the king, Dom Fernando, within whose princely domain it falls — a more enviable possession than that offered to him in the tottering throne of Spain. Various
animals, among them the stag, the gracefully -bounding gazelle, the horse, and the ox, enjoy themselves here in full liberty. There are also peacocks, a pair of small [191] ostriclies, swans, and gay-plumaged ducks. The ancient mosque still remains. Excavations, in connexion with the works then in progress, were made in it a few years ago, when several skeletons were found. Their bones were collected and buried beneath a half-moon shaped
stone, with a cross and a crescent as emblems, and the inscription, “ O que ficou junto, Deus separará,” to denote that it was unknown whether the bones there buried were those of Christians or Mohammedans. The stones are defaced by the scratchings and scrawlings of
such persons as have a mania for disfiguring places and objects they are permitted to see by placing their initials or names on them, and by inscribing sentences, pious or sublime, for the edification of less gifted individuals. It is to be hoped that the latter, at least, of
whatever nation, may see so eloquent " a sermon in," or on, "these stones," that they may be taught by it to abstain from the sin of using pencil or knife in further defacement of them.

There is a narrow pathway by which, if traversed on foot, you may, by a cross cut, get down from the Castello de Mouros to the town in a very short time. This path we proposed to descend, instead of then going on to the Pena Verde; for I had been thrown
once on the road by the abominable donkey, aided by the abominable saddle, and was resolved not to mount the brute again, at least for that day. The donkey-driver chose to look on this arrangement as a great affront to him and his donkeys. He entreated, he
expostulated ; said I was "very little damaged" — which
was very near the truth, for I was not damaged at [192] all; but his eloquence was not so persuasive as to induce me to take a long round for the sake of soothing his wounded feelings. And so we then and there parted company ; he in great dudgeon, and we much
amused.

CONVENT OF LA PENA

CONVENT OF LA PENA.
Drawn by Lieut.-Col. Batty.

Then slowly climb the many-winding way,
And frequent turn to linger as you go ;
From loftier rocks new loveliness survey,
And rest ye at' Our Lady's House of Woe,'
Where frugal monks their little relics shew,
And sundry legends to the stranger tell."

Childe Harold, canto i. st. 22.


" On the highest point to which we were now approaching, across the heath-covered serra, is situated the Convent of the Pena, or Our Lady of the Height, according to the true import of the Celtic word pen. Passing to the southern side of the mountain, we ascended, by a winding and tediously steep road, to the platform upon which the convent is built; leaving to our left, lower down the hill, an enclosed arena, as we were informed, for the exhibition of bull-fights, which we rather wished than believed to be a misrepresentation. There is nothing remarkable in the convent, beyond some alabaster ornaments in the chapel, and upon one side a curious organ-case, on which, in imitation of the Chinese style, is represented a scene, in gilt and brilliant colours, of a Chinese singer upon a raised platform, surrounded by instrumental performers, in the act of holding a piece of music in his left hand, and giving full effect to the chant, or beating time with his right; and this, with the usual ' celestial' observance of the laws of perspective. There was not one monk in the building to greet our arrival; and we learned from the Galician domestic, who conducted us over the apartments, that the society was about to be dissolved, and that he had the distressing prospect before him of returning, after five years' service, to starve amidst his native mountains.

" The best idea of the rudely shaped masses of rock which are scattered over the serra, and the volcanic appearance of the upper part of the wild range of the Cintra heights, is to be obtained from a wall on the western side of the convent, whence the view runs along the wooded side of the whole mountain course, skirting Cintra and Colares, down to the shores of the Atlantic. The mountains of Cintra are said to have been known to the ancients as the Montes Lunse, and the Cabo de Roca as the Promontorium Magnum, upon which was erected a temple dedicated to Cynthia, whence some etymologists fancifully trace the origin of the appellation Cintra."—Kinseys Portugal Illustrated.

Dacrydium plumosum

Dacrydium plumosum D. Don
A Description of the Genus Pinus, ed. 2
Podocarpaceae

Thuja Doniana Hook, in London Journal of Botany 1: 571. 1842. nom. illeg. superfl.

Thuja doniana Hook, is now known as Libocedrus plumosa (D.Don)Sargent. 19. Hooker, JD Handbook of the New Zealand flora.

Libocedrus plumosa (D. Don) Sarg. The Silva of North America 10: 134. 1896.

"Kawaha of the natives, from forests along the banks of the Hokianga river, near the Bay of Islands in the West Island of New Zealand ..."