Voyage of the Liberdade | Page 8

leave, saying the port had been
closed that morning. "But we have made the voyage," I said. "No
matter," said the guard, "leave at once you must, or the guard-ship will
fire into you." This, I submit, was harsh and arbitrary treatment. A
thunderbolt from a clear sky could not have surprised us more or
worked us much greater harm--to be ruined in business or struck by
lightning, being equally bad!
Then pointing something like a gun, Dom Pedro said, said he, "Vaya
Homem" (hence, begone), "Or you'll give us cholera." So back we had
to go, all the way to Rosario, with that load of hay--and trouble. But on
our arrival there we found things better than they were when we sailed.
The cholera had ceased--it was on the wane when we sailed from
Rosario, and there was hardly a case of the dread disease in the whole
country east of Cordova when we returned. That was, indeed, a comfort,
but it left our hardship the same, and led, consequently, to the total loss
of the vessel after dragging us through harrowing trials and losses, as
will be seen by subsequent events.
CHAPTER IV
Ilha Grande decree--Return to Rosario--Waiting opening of the
Brazilian ports--Scarcity of sailors--Buccaneers turned pilots--Sail
down the river--Arrive at Ilha Grande the second time--Quarantined
and fumigated--Admitted to pratique--Sail for Rio--Again
challenged--Rio at last.
This Ilha Grande decree, really a political movement, brought great
hardships on us, notwithstanding that it was merely intended by the
Brazilians as retaliation for past offences by their Argentine neighbours;
not only for quarantines against Rio fevers, but for a discriminating
duty as well on sugar from the empire; a combination of hardships on
commerce--more than the sensitive Brazilians could stand--so chafing
them that a retaliation fever sprung up reaching more than the heat of

febre marello, and they decided to teach their republican cousins a
wholesome lesson. However, their wish was to retaliate without
causing war, and it was done. In fact, closing ports as they did at the
beginning of Argentine's most valuable season of exports to Brazil, and
with the plausible excuse, namely fear of pain in the stomach, so filled
the Argentines with admiration of their equals in strategy that they on
the earliest opportunity proclaimed two public holidays in honour of
bright Brazil. So the matter of difference ended, to the delight of all--in
fire-crackers and champagne!
To the delight of all except the owner and crew of the Aquidneck. For
our bark there was no way but to return where the cargo came from, at
a ruinous loss, too, of time and money. We called at the first open port
and wired to the owner of the cargo, but got no answer. Thence we
sailed to Buenos Aires, where I telegraphed again for instructions. The
officers of the guard-ship, upon receiving my report from Brazil, were
convulsed with laughter, while I----I confess it--could not see the joke.
After waiting two days, this diplomatic reply came from the owner of
the cargo: "Act as the case may require." Upon this matter I had several
opinions. One person suggested that the case required me to pitch the
whole cargo into the sea! This friend, I may mention, was from Boston.
I have ever since regretted, however, that I did not take his advice.
There seemed to be no protection for the vessel; the law that a ship
must be allowed to live was unheeded; in fact this law was reversed and
there were sharpers and beach-combers at every turn ready to take
advantage of one's misfortunes or even drive one to despair. I
concluded, finally, to shake the lot of them, and proceeding up the
Parana, moored again at the berth where, a few weeks before, we had
taken in the cargo. Spans and tackle were rigged, and all was made
ready to discharge. It was now, "Come on, McCarthy, or McCarthy,
come on!" I didn't care which, I had one right on my side, and I kept
that always in view; namely, the right to discharge the cargo where I
had first received it; but where the money to buy ballast and pay other
charges was to come from I could not discover.
My merchant met me in great concern at my "misfortunes," but

"carramba!" (zounds) said he, "my own losses are great." It required
very little reasoning to show me that the least expensive course was the
safest one for me to adopt, and my merchant offering enough to pay the
marketing, I found it wisest not to disturb the cargo, but to lay up
instead with it in the vessel and await the reopening of the Brazilian
ports. This I did.
My merchant, Don Manuel, is said to be worth millions of pesos. The
foundation of his