PUNGEE VILLAGE.

the most celebrated in the annals of the province.

Passing from the dirt and bustle of a native market at the upper end of the city, we crossed an old stone bridge, and entered upon a broad causeway, having buttresses, bridges, and parapets made of gray sandstone. It separated the river from an extensive rice marsh,-- then in stubble, bordered by trees, and extended fully two miles, to Pungee village. From this pleasant and smooth way, as we galloped on, we had the most interesting views of picturesque scenery opening before and around us. The river varied from one to two miles in width, and, from the jutting points that fringed the opposite shore, a successive series of hills rose toward the distant Ghauts, like fancy-shaped terraces and knolls. The greatest variety of foliage covered them with verdure, and every top appeared to be crowned with one of the many chapels or imposing convents that always mark the vicinity of Portuguese settlements; and of which there were formerly two hundred within the thirty miles square of Goa.

At the farther end of the causeway we saw the archbishop's palace, or a neat dwelling so called; and within the small village, as we ascended the principal street of a hill, upon which the buildings closely stood, every thing appeared, as we might have expected, in any Portuguese city; excepting that the few windows which relieved the prison-like walls of the houses, were supplied with pieces of coarse mother of pearl, cut into squares of three inches, instead of glass. In one place I noticed a pretty brunette seated with two or three children beneath the lentil of a door,

which exposed an apartment occupied in common by a mule and the family. This kind of fellowship often occurs in the caravanserais of the east; and in the native cities, where there are no hotels, the stranger is often obliged to take refuge in some of the clean stone stables left open for the purpose. A sight of a neat one, however, lessens very much our unpleasant associations about the Saviour being found in the manger of such a place when visited by the

magi.

From this place we passed on over a more elevated road, through groves of cocoa, areka, and orange trees. Here was a cluster of mud and bamboo cabins, with the dung of cattle stuck about to dry for fuel; and there a row of low shops; and next the stately arch of a guarded pass, the stone buildings to which were once the palace of a viceroy, but now used as common barracks. Beyond this extended a broader road, over hill and dale, with several large old buildings, and the grand church of St. Jago, in a deep glen, close to the river. Thence we ascended far up to the commanding site of Old Goa, where once the court and grandeur of the eastern Portuguese were seated, with a revenue surpassing that of the crown of Portugal itself. But where were the signs of that first and famous capital of European traders — which was once the abode of twenty thousand persons- where the secret wiles and bloody tortures of the eastern_inquisition were perpetrated with impunity, and two thousand dependent priests supported under its shield?

--

Where should we look for a monument of the renowned Albuquerque, who first took and

THE INQUISITION.

9

established this capital, and where it is said he died in disgrace?

We passed by one and another deserted church, overhung with the gray hairs of architecture, and surrounded by waste and overgrown glebes; next a few broken enclosures of masonry, with niches for statuary; then the dingy walls of a few lonely mansions, standing like the half-fallen tablets of an old graveyard; and at last we arrived within a conspicuous area, where mouldering walls, and ruins on three sides appeared as if they had once formed the central square of the city. One pile of the ruins was designated as the site of the inquisition. This, unfortunately, we had not time to rummage over and examine for ourselves; but it is said: "The original structure was the seraglio of a Mohammedan prince, and afterwards the palace of a viceroy: it was then coverted into a popish place of torment; and now happily it is a desolation. The last auto-da-fe, or public execution of condemned victims here, took place in 1777. From this time until the holy office was abolished, by the interference of the British, in 1811, the bodies of the wretches who here perished, within the walls of the inquisition, either by direct violence, or under the torture, or from heart-breaking captivity, are said to have been thrown into a very deep tank, within the precincts of the dungeon quarters."

We turned to our guide, and told him to lead us to the hotel and settlement.

"This be Old Goa," he replied, "what master come to see."

"What, this place!" we exclaimed, "this is only an old owl roost, no body lives here."

"This be all, master," he said, "only padres and nuns, such as takes care of churches lives in Old Goa."

There was one noble church, forming nearly the fourth side of the square, which stood entire and in good order. We were beside our horses on the broad terrace fronting this church, when we heard the bells chiming over our heads. We felt assured there must be persons to sound that formal call to prayers, if there were even none without to obey it. Our guide said that priests were living there who were very polite and kind, and would gladly entertain us if we needed anything to eat or to drink. We directed him to knock. The knocks seemed to be unheard, and our guide opened the divided little part of the massive, lofty, double doors. As we stood a moment, looking at one advancing from the far-off chancel, dimly seen in perspective, he appeared like a tiny boy; but when we met him near the centre of the grand nave, he was larger than either of us. This person appeared to be an attendant, and at our request returned speedily to procure water for us.

Thus left alone for a while, we felt the awe of solitude peculiarly, as we gazed upon that grand shelter for thousands of the past, then nearly vacant forever. The high Gothic arches were spreading far above us, from their noble pillars, that stood like groves of lofty elms; and the faint chirp of a little bird heard among the capitols, as it flitted about, heightened the aspect of lonely grandeur. On either side of the capacious floor, were chancels and altars, like separate chapels; and the main chancel of all, at the end, was a cathedral in itself, with gilded images and bas-re

THE REMAINS OF OLD GOA.

11

liefs fretting its walls, and niches for the saints, and bookstands for the members of the chapter, curiously supported by little cherubs with their feet on writhing dragons all in bronze.

In a short time, a corps of five or six priests were seen approaching us. They were ignorant of English, but through a mixture of Latin, French, and Portuguese, they made us understand that we were most welcome to their hospitalities; that few strangers visited them, that the arch-bishop, who was within, would rejoice to see us, and they should at least expect us to partake of their frugal fare at dinner. We were obliged to decline these civilities, although it might have gratified us much to visit his Holiness, and to taste his frugal fare, which, from other experience, we could not doubt would be exceedingly palatable.

We learnt that there were five other churches standing and occupied in Old Goa, besides a convent. There were, within a short distance, the churches of St. Jago, St. Anna, St. Francis, St. Augustine, and a Misericordia. It was the St. Augustine church in which we stood, that is said to be the best specimen of architecture in the east. It was built in 1540, or nearly three centuries ago, even before the pilgrim fathers settled the Bay State of New-England, or the heroic captain Smith dared the prowess of Powhattan in the Old Dominion. There were in that church alone thirty-three officiates, five dignitates, ten canonici, four semicanonici, twelve capellarie, and two others. In the other churches there were about sixteen in each, enough with their attendants to exceed a hundred; which, with the inmates of St. Magdalena convent, compose the entire inhabitants of this once populous city.