It is probable
conscience was at the bottom of this conceit of mine; but the latter now
became so strong, as to induce me to determine to look out for a vessel
for myself, and be off again. With this view, I quitted a negro who had
been sent with me to market, under the pretence of going to school, but
went along the wharves until I found a ship that took my fancy. She was
called the Sterling, and there was a singularly good-looking mate on her
deck, of the name of Irish, who was a native of Nantucket. The ship was
commanded by Capt. John Johnston, of Wiscasset, in Maine, and belonged to
his father and himself.
I went on board the Sterling, and, after looking about for some time, I
ventured to offer myself to Mr. Irish, as a boy who wished to ship. I was
questioned, of course, but evaded any very close answers. After some
conversation, Capt. Johnston came on board, and Mr. Irish told him what I
wanted. My examination now became much closer, and I found myself driven
to sheer fabrication in order to effect my purposes. During my intercourse
with different sea-going lads of Halifax, I had learned the particulars of
the capture of the Cleopatra 32, by the French frigate Ville de Milan 38,
and her recapture by the Leander 50, which ship captured the Ville de
Milan at the same time. I said my father had been a serjeant of marines,
and was killed in the action--that I had run away when the ships got in,
and that I wished to be bound to some American ship-master, in order to
become a regularly-trained seaman.
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