Captain Henry Taylor
Nancy writes, "My grandfather, Captain Henry Taylor, wrote his
memories of growing up in Cowes. As he wrote out these memories by
hand, he was in his eighties and World War II was raging in Europe.
In those places were I was unsure of his handwriting, I put [?]. I
am his only grandchild, so I am glad to be able to pass his memories
on."
Nancy Elaine Taylor Miller, Clinton, Arkansas, USA.
My father was Harbour Master on the Isle of Wight at the
seafaring town Cowes and I believe I was born there in a seaside
tavern by the name of The Bolton Yacht [?]. The house fronted on the
High Street and at the back of the Solent Sea, the house and
outbuildings were the property of a rich brewer family the head of
which was a Harbour Commissioner - hence the connection of the
tavern and my father's job. The Solent is a sheet of water capable
of accommodating large and numerous shipping undoubtedly so used of
recent date as a war or fleet anchorage. On the North side of the
Solent is the large port of Southampton - Portsmouth and naval
establishments.
I will endeavour to write of my boyhood and the people I remember
long, long ago. Both of my parents were natives of Cowes and we had
numerous relatives, particularly on my mother's side. My father was
fairly well to do with a good business and I was sent to private
school near the home at an early age, and could read and write while
quite young. During the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, I used to sit
on the table of the taproom and read the account of the battles
fought. In those days there were quite a lot of the old time pilots
and fishermen who could not read or write, and they would sit around
the table smoking their long 'Church Warden' clay pipes, sipping
their beer and I would sit on top of the table reading the paper to
them.
After the defeat of the French, the French Emperor Napoleon
Bonaparte, fled to England to escape capture, and lived in a large
three story house about a mile from my home. Often in the evenings
the Emperor & Empress with their son would drive along the beach and
I, with other boys, would walk by them paying no attention. The
Emperor was a rather ordinary looking man but the Empress was a very
beautiful woman. I remember part of a "rhyme" about him. He was a
poor sad hearted man, and an exile on our shore, a poor old man,
broken down, Napoleon is no more."
When
Queen Victoria was entering her
Osborne residence she would arrive on her
private yacht, the Alberta of modest size so it could enter the
Harbour at Cowes. Her approach always being punctuated by a salute
of 21 guns, from the R.Y.S. batter of the muzzleloaders. And this
was the time that my father as Harbour Master would shine and show
his authority to keep the channel clear to the Royal Landing Pier. I
assure you that Royal Yacht needed a clear channel, for she would
enter at full speed.
While on the subject of Royalty, from my native domicile,
Osborne House,
Queen Victoria's summer residence was plainly visible, and during my
youth I had a job as errand boy. One of my duties was to walk to
Osborne House from Cowes and get a voucher for necessary groceries
and other items from the storekeeper at Osborne, nicknamed 'John
Brown'. He was a decent sort of a fellow, very large and very fat.
Whenever we returned to him with the orders filled to his
satisfaction, he always gave a large piece of the finest fresh bread
and a regular chunk of cheese, and let me tell you, never before or
since have I tasted such food. To top off the food we were always
given a horn of beer. And I mean a Horn - no imitation. My oh my,
that beer was good.
Sundays, during the Queen's residence, the Queen would attend
divine services at Whippingham Church outside the grounds. This
little church was, I believe, built by
Queen Victoria
in memory of her husband, the Prince Consort. Often some other boys
and I would walk home from Cowes to Whippingham Church, timing our
arrival a little ahead of Queen Victoria. We would be seated in a
galley and see the Royal Family at their devotions. We youngsters
were herded out before the sermon and we should station ourselves at
the side of the country road along which the Royal Equipage would
travel. When Queen Victoria's carriage passed, we as loyal young
Englishmen, would bare our heads and bow, which always pleased the
old lady immensely and she would return our bow.
Still on the subject of Kings, Queens & Royalty, there is at
Cowes a very notable Jack Club House occupied by only the very super
elite of English Aristocracy. Its name is the Royal Yacht Squadron
often alluded to as the Castle, standing at almost the water's edge,
facing to the North on the Solent and toward the South Coast of
England. From this Clubhouse all the most notable Yacht Races and
Regattas are directed or arranged. Along the edge of the stone keys
or yacht landing slips, there was a number of small old mule loading
cannon - used only for saluting Roher paddles going like clockwork -
and full sized bone in her teeth and sending a wave into the shore
and playing the very devil with the small water craft.
Old Queen Victoria had a flare for pauper German Princes and she
had one as Commander of her yacht - no work, good pay, plenty of
brass - an opportunity to improve himself financially - or
romantically. That's the guy my father had to ball out for breaking
all the Harbour Regulations.
As a rule when Queen Victoria was in residence at Osborne a war
ship (or battle ship) stayed on duty, termed by the people an 'iron
clad'. The name of her was the Hector and she usually anchored about
a mile off shore and did not move until the Queen departed.
Sailors from the Hector would come ashore often in a special
pinnace or barge, rowed by eight men, keeping splendid rhythmic
strokes. This pinnace was usually in the charge of midshipmen. On
one particular occasion (so the story goes) the two midshipmen in
charge was Prince Albert and his brother Prince George and came
ashore for the mail.
The boat's crew had to stay by the boat and the two Princes took
a leisurely stroll to the Post Office, but on the way was a Tavern
named the Red Lion. So it being a warm summer day they entered and
had a few beers and incidentally forgot about the Mail. So the
warship had to send another boat to look for them. When they were
found, the navel officer in charge of the second boat respectfully
requested them to return to the ship. So they started toward the
boat and when stepping into it one of them slipped into the boat and
skinned his hand so it bled rather freely. One of the cockney
sailors in broad cockney accent whispered to the sailor next to him,
'By the lord, old man, it's Red and I thought these beggars blood
was Blue!'.
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