The Story of a Strange Career: Being the Autobiography of a Convict: An Authentic Document
History
The Story of a Strange Career: Being the Autobiography of a Convict: An Authentic Document
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives
By hard study and strict attention to duty, I soon became a good gunner.
The cutlass exercise I was very fond of. Every evening, when I remained
on board, I would get some good man to use the single sticks with me for
amusement, and, consequently, I became quite a good swordsman. In April
we received news in regard to the Rebellion in the United States. Jennie
and I had a long conversation on the subject, and both concluded that it
would be much better for me to be in the United States navy, where
promotion was possible. The pay was also much better. Besides, I was not
an Englishman, and it was my duty to fight for my country. It was
arranged that Jennie should go home to her parents, and remain there
until I could send for her from New York. I was to desert from the
Excellent.
Now, deserting from that vessel was a serious affair, as neither labour
nor expense was spared in capturing a deserter. The penalty was not less
than one year in prison. It was very seldom that a gunner ran away, and
nearly every one who did so was caught. I got a canvas bag, such as
sailors use, instead of a chest. Taking it home, I filled it with any
old dresses or rags that Jennie could get. I brought two No. 3
grape-shot from the ship, and put them in with the other trash. My
object was to have my baggage to take with me. I told McMinn of my
intentions. He had his discharge from the English merchant service,
which he gave to me, as it might be very useful. My sailor clothes I
sold, except the suit I had on. Jennie told our landlady that she was
going home on a visit. Everything being ready, we bade each other an
affectionate good-bye, and she went away. The next day I got a pass from
the captain for permission to travel for twenty-four hours unmolested.
I got my man-of-war's suit changed, and, taking my baggage, and getting
on the cars, I was in London in a few hours.
Securing my bag, I at once went to the Sailors' Home on the East India
Road, registering my name as John McMinn, also showing the discharge
from the merchant service. I stated that I had been home several months
on a visit. The Home was a very large building built by the Government
for the protection of sailors from the numerous boarding-house sharks.
The charges were just enough to cover all expenses, and each man had a
small room to himself, besides the use of the library and the
bathing-room. There was also a large sitting-room, and a shipping office
was on the lower floor. Men could be shipped there or paid off; in fact,
everything was done to protect sailors from being defrauded. Early the
next morning I went to London dock. In a short time I found an English
brig ready for sea. Showing my discharge to the captain, he told me that
I was just the kind of man he wanted, and gave me an order to be
shipped. I went to the Home and signed the Articles for a voyage to St.
Kitts, West Indies.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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