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.