he harbour, in a
low unhealthy situation, surrounded on all sides by hills, which
stop the free circulation of air, and subject its inhabitants to
intermittents and putrid diseases. It is of considerable extent: Mr.
Cook makes it as large as Liverpool; but Liverpool, in 1767, when Mr.
Cook wrote, was not two-thirds of its present size. Perhaps it
equals Chester, or Exeter, in the share of ground it occupies, and is
infinitely more populous than either of them. The streets intersect each
other at right angles, are tolerably well built, and excellently paved,
abounding with shops of every kind, in which the wants of a stranger,
if money is not one of them, can hardly remain unsatisfied. About the
centre of the city, and at a little distance from the beach, the Palace
of the Viceroy stands, a long, low building, no wise remarkable in
its exterior appearance; though within are some spacious and handsome
apartments. The churches and convents are numerous, and richly
decorated; hardly a night passes without some of the latter being
illuminated in honour of their patron saints, which has a very brilliant
effect when viewed from the water, and was at first mistaken by us for
public rejoicings. At the corner of almost every street stands a little
image of the Virgin, stuck round with lights in an evening, before which
passengers frequently stop to pray and sing very loudly. Indeed, the
height to which religious zeal is carried in this place, cannot fail
of creating astonishment in a stranger. The greatest part of the
inhabitants seem to have no other occupation, than that of paying visits
and going to church, at which times you see them sally forth richly
dressed, en chapeau bras, with the appendages of a bag for the hair,
and a small sword: even boys of six years old are seen parading about,
furnished with these indispensable requisites. Except when at their
devotions, it is not easy to get a sight of the women, and when
obtained, the comparisons drawn by a traveller, lately arrived from
England, are little flattering to Portugueze beauty. In justice,
however, to the ladies of St. Sebastian, I must observe, that the custom
of throwing nosegays at strangers, for the purpose of bringing on an
assignation, which Doctor Solander, and another gentleman of Mr. Cook's
ship, met with when here, was never seen by any of us in a single
instance. We were so deplorably unfortunate as to walk every evening
before their windows and balconies,