Part 7

The cargo discharged, we were ordered to proceed to Leghorn, Italy, where we went to load with marble and rags for Baltimore. The day we passed out by the breakwater at Cette was one of the happiest in my life. The ship was covered with a fine dust from the asphaltum, and we did nothing but clean for the next thirty days to get the ship clean again.

While the ship was loading at Leghorn a trip was made to Pasa, Rome and Florence. The party consisted of three captains and their wives and two single men, one being myself. There were Captain Downs and wife, of the British ship _British Empire_; Captain Hall and wife, of the barque _Valita_; Captain Watts and wife, of a ship from Thomaston, Maine, the name of which I have forgotten. Captain Gardner of the barque _Winged Arrow_ and your humble servant of the brig _Bowen_ completed the party. We had a beautiful trip, and Captain Downs and his wife, who were well educated, told us about all the historic places and incidents connected with them. The condition of the Italian people at that time (in the early 70’s) was pitiable. Scarcely fifteen per cent of the people were able to read or to write, but conditions have somewhat improved since then.

Bidding good-bye to Leghorn, we sailed for Baltimore with several Italian passengers. Fishing was very good, and we caught many barracuda, a beautiful fish, and when properly cooked were fine eating. When off the Balearic Islands, in the Mediterranean, we had several days of calms and light and baffling winds. One morning we discovered a large “Bum-boat” pulling off from the coast. They came alongside loaded with fruits, curios, and wine in kegs and demijohns. With what broken Spanish I had, I gave them to understand that I had nothing but American paper money, and that it would be of no use to them. But they all commenced to shout, “Americana papeleto mucho bueno, change heem at Americana Consuelo,” which meant American paper money much good, and they would change it at the American consul’s office. So we took about $90 worth of fruit, wine and other things, and they went off very happy, and off they went toward other outward bound vessels to finish trading. But a guilty conscience bothered me, for I had indeed paid them with “Americano papelita”; I had paid them in Confederate money, which was worth about two cents for a hundred dollars. Well, the next morning about eight bells a guilty man, with glass in hand, I saw a large boat pulled by a crowd of fierce-looking men and aided by large sails coming our way. Every moment they gained on us, and I could hear them shouting, “Americano papelita no good,” and then they would curse and swear, and their leader, who stood up in the bow, kept drawing a huge and hideous-looking knife across his throat. I then realized that we were in serious difficulty, and that we all might be murdered by these men because of my too slick “Yankee” dealings; but a heavy breeze came up (such as is frequently met with in those seas), and we shot ahead of them in spite of their sails and hard rowing. Our long passage home (some forty days) I always attributed to my passing those Southern “shin-plasters” on those poor devils, but consoled myself as best I could with the idea that they had probably stolen their fruit and wine, for they were notorious thieves.

On our arrival at Baltimore, we were chartered to carry coal from Locust Point to Aspinwall for the Pacific Mail S. S. Company, and thence to load cargo of hard pine from Pensacola, Florida, to Philadelphia, one of the best round charters ever made, the profits averaging $100 a day for the round trip. We loaded the coal at $8.50 per ton, gold, and were only sixteen days out to Aspinwall, a very quick trip. On arrival, we reported to the agent, and he was glad indeed to get the hard coal. In the harbor there were a number of ships loaded with soft coal, and many had been waiting for weeks to discharge, but at the present time the barque _Sagadahawk_, Captain Geer, was discharging as fast as he could get empty cars from Panama. The head stevedore was a powerful Jamaica negro, a Mr. Williams by name, and a perfect type of gentleman. He at once placed at my disposal a majority of the cars, as our hard coal was in demand. Now, Captain Geer was a most profane man, and you may be sure that when he saw our cargo being unloaded before his was he called the stevedore by every foul name he could lay his tongue to. Yellow fever was raging at this time, and all wanted to get away as soon as possible from this infected port. Three of my crew were taken sick and died in a few days, and were buried ashore. On my bills of lading I had endorsed in red ink that ten tons of coal were to be retained for the ship’s use. The brig was built very broad, both forward and aft, so that fifty or eighty tons of coal made but little showing in the hold. The morning that we finished unloading I called Mr. Williams to the hatch-way and asked him if he thought he had left me my ten tons, and he said he was satisfied and stopped unloading. We then pulled off in the stream and took on ballast for our trip across to Pensacola. We shipped new men in place of those who had died with the yellow fever, and was warned by the port physician that we might have more sickness before we finished our trip, and sure enough we did, as four more died and were buried at sea, leaving us barely men enough to work her.

Our passage was a stormy one; head winds and adverse currents so delayed us that we were double the time we should have been on the trip. On arrival at Pensacola, we anchored near the place where we were to load hard pine for Philadelphia. As I went up to the customs house I was asked if we had any coal on board that I wanted to sell. The Southern coal mines had shut down, and ten dollars a ton was offered me. The owner of the wharf where we docked bought the coal, and in addition to the price agreed upon gave us free wharfage while loading. I now learned how profitable it was to always show courtesy to a black man. Back in Aspinwall I had given Mr. Williams, the colored stevedore, the full run of the ship, several cases of champagne, a case of gin, and had treated him as I would any white man. Now when we came to get out the coal, we took out one hundred tons, and for which I was paid one thousand dollars. So my kindness had been repaid ten-fold, and I thought of the old Scripture passage in regard to casting your bread upon the waters.

We made a fine run around to Philadelphia, and had some trouble with Mr. Whitten, the agent, in regard to my money received from the coal. He claimed half of the money, but as I showed him that it was my grub and liquor that had made it possible, he was entitled legally to only freight on the coal. So we settled it up this way. But the money I received for the coal went very quickly. A churchman in my town borrowed the money, and, tempted by an investment which promised a large rate of interest, he lost it all, and again I thought: in retribution, “Americano papelita no bueno.”

We were now chartered for Russia to carry a cargo of oil, and half commission on the charter was given me.

[Illustration: Capt Joshua N Taylor 1861]

[Illustration]

THE VALUE OF A GOOD MOTHER.

I could not close the pages of this book without the mention of her, whose love has been the guiding star and inspiration throughout my life.

To the boys and girls who are growing up into manhood and womanhood who are destined to become the fathers and mothers of another generation, I would say, “Never forget your mother.”

The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him when he needs it most. Man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action.

Often the son or daughter that he has reared with loving kindness may become ungrateful.

But through the rift in the clouds there always shines the silver lining of mother’s love.

The one absolutely unselfish friend a man may have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful, is his mother.

And so I have inserted her picture in the pages of this little book, as a tribute to her memory and in the hopes that the mind of the reader may turn back with kindly thoughts to the old fireside, where mother was always queen.

JOSHUA N. TAYLOR.

Transcriber’s Notes

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.

Table of Contents has been modified to better reflect text contents.

Perceived typographical errors have been silently corrected.

Notation of a.m. and p.m. has been standardized.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation and compound words have been retained as printed.