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Of the later additions which give character to the cloister and to the Capellas Imperfeitas nothing can be said till the time of Dom Manoel is reached. Besides building Batalha, King João dedicated the spoils he had taken at Aljubarrota to the church of Nossa Senhora da Oliviera at Guimarães, which he rebuilt from the designs of Juan Garcia of Toledo.
They have built, by slow degrees, as I was told, a fine church by their own unaided exertions. It is called Nossa Senhora do Rosario, or Our Lady of the Rosary. During the first weeks of our residence at Para, I frequently observed a line of negroes and negresses, late at night, marching along the streets, singing a chorus.
The king and royal family assisted at a public Te Deum, sung in the chapel of Nossa Senhoro de Livramento; on which occasion the king, for the satisfaction of his people, waved his handkerchief with both hands, to show he was not maimed by the wounds he had received.
This is San Antonio, and this is Nossa Senhora do Conceiçao, Our Lady of the Conception. She prays to them every day for sunshine; but they do not seem to hear, this winter, and it rains all the time. Then, approaching the climax of her blessedness, with beaming face she opens a door in the wall, and shows you her pig.
It is now provided with a long bridge-causeway of three arches, approached by a chapel, Nossa Senhora das Victorias, whose tiled and pillared porch reminds one of Istria.
The rounded grassy hill-heads setting off the horizontal curtains of dry stone, 'horticultural fortifications' which guard the slopes, and which rise to a height of 3,000 feet; the lower monticules and parasitic craters, Signal Hill, Race-course Hill, Sao Martinho and Santo Antonio, telling the tale of throes perhaps to be renewed; the stern basaltic cliff-walls supporting the island and prolonged in black jags through the glassy azure of the transparent sea; the gigantic headlands forming abutments for the upper arch; the chequered lights and shades and the wavy play of sunshine and cloudlet flitting over the face of earth; the gay tenements habited in white and yellow, red, green, and, not unfrequently, blue; the houses built after the model of cigar-boxes set on edge, with towers, belvederes, and gazebos so tall that no one ascends them, and with flat roofs bearing rooms of glass, sparkling like mirrors where they catch the eye of day; the toy-forts, such as the Fortaleza do Pico de Sao Joao, built by the Spaniards, an upper work which a single ironclad would blow to powder with a broadside; the mariner's landmark, 2,000 feet high, Nossa Senhora do Monte, white-framed in brown-black and backed by its feathery pines, distance-dwarfed to mere shrubs, where the snow-winds sport; the cloud-cap, a wool-pack, iris-tinted by the many-hued western sky, and the soft sweet breath of the serre-chaude below, profusely scented with flower and fruit, all combined to form an ensemble whose first sight Northern travellers long remember.
This chapel then is of great interest, not only because of the real beauty of its details but also because it was the first built of a type which was repeated more than once elsewhere, as, for instance, at Marceana near Alemquer, on the Tagus, and in the church of Nossa Senhora dos Anjos at Montemor-o-Velho, not far from São Marcos. Of the chapels at Montemor one at least was built by the same family, and in another where the reredos a very fine piece of carving represents a Piet
It rests on the Corinthian capital of a very bulbous baluster, is square, and has on each side four beautiful little Corinthian columns, fluted and surrounded with large acanthus leaves at the bottom. Almost exactly like it, but round and with balusters instead of columns, is the pulpit in the church of Nossa Senhora dos Olivaes at Thomar.
However, before visiting São Marcos mention must be made of two tombs, one in Nossa Senhora dos Olivaes at Thomar, and one in the Graça church at Santarem. Both are exceedingly French in design, and both were erected not long after the coming of the foreigners. The tomb in Thomar is the older. It is that of Diogo Pinheiro, the first bishop of Funchal which he never visited who died in 1525.
"You have won my daughter as your bride," said the king, after he had used all his royal wits to solve the riddle and could not do it. When Manoel explained his riddle to the princess, she said, "Nossa Senhora herself must have sent you to me. I never could have endured a stupid husband." Once upon a time there was a man who was very poor.
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