One night, while my division was on duty aboard the ship, we had quite a diversion from the ordinary routine. A big fire was seen on shore. All boats were "called away" and our division landed at the navy yard, each man carrying a ship's fire-bucket. A lieutenant had charge of the "fire brigade" of about one hundred and fifty sailors. Nothing pleases a sailor more than having something to do on land. Going to a fire was an unusual treat. Steam fire-engines were not invented at that time. For a New York city man that fire was a comical sight. On our arrival at the scene, we found a regiment of soldiers drawn up in double line around the burning buildings. Behind them were about all the prostitutes in the city—-and they were numerous in proportion to the population. The soldiers opened ranks for us to pass inside the lines, the women encouraging the sailors by singing out, "Go it, Excellents! Be lively, my lads!" The troops had their muskets and, in their bright scarlet uniforms, made a grand display. Only one old-fashioned fire-engine, worked by hand, was to be seen. The old box was so leaky that the water was spurting in all directions except the proper one. Our gallant lieutenant, with his drawn sword pointed to the burning building, was ordering us to put out the fire. The whole block was a row of small two-story brick buildings. As one house would burn down, the next would catch fire. The fire-buckets were of leather, with a rope thirty feet in length attached to each one, for the purpose of hoisting water over the ship's side and lowering it down the hatches in case of fire. On shore the circumstances were different. The rope was a great impediment. But something must be done to show what sailors could do at a fire.
A dam of mud was made in the street gutter, the leaks in the fire-engine furnishing abundance of water. All hands were formed in line and each man, dipping up a bucketful of water, would run to the burning structure, the lieutenant with his sword would point out the particular second-story window into which he wanted the contents of the bucket thrown, and so it would go. That plan was a dismal failure. It would require men about twenty feet in height for that style of fire-fighting. The agents of the insurance company asked us to tear down a building about six houses to the leeward of the fire. By that means the fire could be checked from spreading. The fun then began in earnest. A stick of timber was used as a battering-ram for the outside; inside the building the sailors were like a swarm of bees. One enterprising man was boosted up into the attic; he did not remain there long, however, for, making a misstep, he went through the second-story ceiling, his body and a quantity of plastering landing on his shipmates below. That building was a complete wreck in a very short time. While the wrecking was in progress, some of the sailors had got on the roof of a building next to the fire. Then the hose was pulled up, and during that process the sailors close by got a good ducking occasionally. Somehow, the sailors could not control the nozzle properly—-at least they said so. In a short time the fire was put out, and there were four buildings not damaged between the ruins and the wreck. How that insurance agent did growl and rave!
All hands picked up their buckets and were marched to the navy yard, and on our way a saloon-keeper was called out of bed and the lieutenant treated each man to a pint of beer. About daylight we were on board the ship again. The sailor who so gallantly held the nozzle and squelched the fire was in luck. The insurance company made him a present of ten shillings, and also wrote a letter to the captain of the Excellent, praising the conduct of the aforesaid sailor. As he had ruined a fine pair of trousers which cost him twenty shillings to replace, his reward was considered quite small. The men in the house-wrecking business were inclined to be envious; they were not even thanked for their hard work.
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.
An advance note for two pounds ten was given me, and the next day, at ten o'clock, the brig was to sail, that being the time of high tide, and the dock gates open. That also was the time that I would be proclaimed a deserter from Her Majesty's service, it now being twenty-four hours after my pass had expired. I had no intention of going to St. Kitts, and about nine o'clock I settled my bill, and, picking up my bag, was going out of the door, when I met one of the owners of the brig.
"Ah, my lad, I came to ship another man in your place. We thought you had backed out."
"Oh, no!" I replied. "I am just on my way to the docks."
"Then hurry, lad, you have no time to lose."