I LEAVE THE SEA AND GO WEST
About the 1st of April I sent in my resignation. I had become tired of
sailor life, the war was nearly ended, and the fact that I was married
made me desirous to make a living on dry land. It was a foolish whim of
mine to throw away such a good opportunity, especially after having
advanced so far in my chosen profession. A fresh supply of naval stores
was needed on the Nereus, and for that reason we were ordered to Key
West, then to return to Cape Haitien. We went first to Navassa and met
the mail steamer, and the letter containing my resignation went in that
mail pouch. We then steered for Cape Mayzi, at the eastern end of Cuba,
and, going around the cape, we sailed west along the coast. Morro Castle
was sighted, and we entered the harbour of Havana. I was well
acquainted with the city, but everything appeared different to me then.
The United States naval uniform allowed me to visit places where
formerly, in common seaman's garb, I should have been denied.
The lottery-ticket venders were as busy as of yore, but, somehow, I did
not feel like patronizing them. I drew the shares of only one prize in
my life, but plenty of blanks. A drawing took place while I was in the
city, and a number of us went to see it. The drawing was in a building
like a theatre. Prizes ranging from two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars down to one hundred dollars were in the wheel. The numbers of
the tickets were in another. A remarkable audience was in the seats;
rich and poor, black and white, and of all nationalities. Great
excitement prevailed until the numbers of all the great prizes were
called out. Then the crowd began to leave. Such low prizes as twenty
thousand and ten thousand dollars interested no one.
We remained one week in Havana and then sailed for Key West, eighty
miles distant; we were only a few hours at sea, and then our anchor was
dropped in Key West harbour. That place had changed wonderfully since my
last visit. From an indolent little fishing village and the home of the
"wreckers" it had become a lively little town. The army and navy were
well represented, and there was hustle and hurry everywhere. Wine and
beer were the only liquors allowed on the island, and the beer cost
fifty cents a bottle, so there must have been quite a profit for
somebody. Our stores had been placed on board, then the coal was
received, and when the bunkers were nearly filled it was discovered that
some of the lower deck beams were getting out of place. An order was
given to have the Nereus examined, and a report was given of her
condition. The news of the surrender of Lee was received, and quite a
celebration of the event took place. Next came the news of the
assassination of President Lincoln.
The Nereus was condemned as "unfit for service," and orders were given
for us to return to New York. About the 10th of May the Nereus arrived
at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and her career as a man-of-war was ended. The
paymaster received notice from the Fourth Auditor at Washington that my
resignation had been accepted on the 17th day of April, and he said that
he would have my account made out at once. I informed the gentleman that
he would do no such thing, and that when I should receive notice through
Captain Howell that my resignation had been accepted I should be
released from service, and not before then. Captain Howell decided that
I was right. The acceptance had been sent to Cape Haitien, and I was in
New York. The Nereus was put out of commission and the crew discharged.
All the officers, except myself, were "detached" and granted two months'
leave of absence. I was placed on waiting orders. The Neptune, Proteus,
and Galatea had also arrived from Cape Haitien. My discharge should have
been on one of those vessels, but no one knew anything about the missing
document.
Our vessel had left Cape Haitien just in time to miss exciting scenes. A
revolution had taken place, and it was the city against the whole
republic. The English gunboat got mixed up in the melee and bombarded
the city. The women took refuge on the men-of-war during the
bombardment. The man-of-war Bulldog ran on a reef in the harbour and
became a wreck. The English Government dismissed the captain for acting
without authority, and the sailing-master met the same fate for losing
the vessel. After waiting a reasonable time, I wrote to the Secretary of
the Navy as to how I was situated, but received no reply. Captain Howell
was in Washington, so I sent him a letter about my circumstances. He
attended to the case personally, and in a few days I received a copy of
the acceptance of my resignation on April 17, 1865. The copy was dated
June 14th, and I received my pay to that date. I then got a position as
watchman in the Brooklyn Navy Yard at sixty dollars a month. Renting a
suite of rooms, I furnished them nicely and settled down to life on
shore with my wife. A child was soon born to comfort our household.
I was finally, at my own request, transferred to the harbour patrol
boat. There were nine of us, divided into three crews, twelve hours on
duty and twenty-four hours off. River pirates and deserters were our
special game.
The war was ended, and that stopped desertion. The purchased gunboats
were sold at auction, and then there was nothing left for the river
pirates to plunder. Alas! our services were no longer needed, and we
were all discharged. Next I got a situation in the navy yard
machine-shops, for I was ambitious to become a first-class machinist.
Busy times were over, and men returning from the war overstocked the
labour market. A great reduction was ordered in all the navy yard
machine-shops, and, of course I, being a late arrival, had to be
discharged with the first lot. Gradually what money I had saved up was
used for necessary living expenses. Rent and provisions were still at
war prices, consequently I soon found myself dead broke, and with no
prospects of obtaining employment.
I came to the conclusion that there was no hope of obtaining employment
in New York. Selling part of my furniture, I raised a few dollars; then
taking Horace Greeley's advice--"Go West, young man, go West!"--I left
New York, and have been away just thirty-two years--1898.
* * * * *
The manuscript breaks off abruptly at the time when Thompson moved West.
Almost from that change began his criminal career. It is known that he
served two terms in the penitentiary at Joliet, Ill., the last one being
for a period of twelve years. Both sentences were for burglary. In his
manuscript he refers to an experience in the prison at Jefferson City,
Mo., and it is also known that he died in prison in another State.
In the last writing of Thompson, he solemnly affirmed his belief in a
"just and merciful God." To that divine justice and mercy let us, having
learned our own lesson from his life, leave him, judging not, lest we be
judged.
THE END
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The Story of the Soldier.
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D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
Transcriber's Note:
Spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear in the
original publication.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of a Strange Career, by Anonymous