Home of the Brave

by D P Prouty

  “We’ll be eating later, there is a wash basin outside the kitchen door with a cake of soap to wash up, I’m afraid mother would insist you wash,” she said, directing the last comment to me. I felt embarrassed and just looked at my feet as she departed.

  As soon as Charlene was out of sight, Frank started laughing almost uncontrollably, “You’re a chucklehead! That’s the captain’s daughter, not some milkmaid from Cowpoke, Virginia!”

  Then Charlie chimed in, “I think she’s sort of cute.” “All I’m saying is, she’s the captain’s daughter, and if either of you have aspirations of sneaking a kiss someday, I think you’re both mad. The captain will have you flogged!” Frank was melodramatic, but he did have a point, the captain probably wouldn’t approve of any behavior which intruded upon his personal life.

  I quickly changed the subject, “Do you think we have to go to church tomorrow?” I asked it with an almost hopeful gesture, although I already knew the answer, and so did Frank and Charlie. Towns frowned upon families that didn’t spend their Sundays at the meeting house. Two services and lunch in between made for a hard day of fighting boredom which was hardly bearable and not something I looked forward to. Many a time I was thumped by the stick of the tithing man to keep me awake!

  That evening, Mary came to the carriage barn and told us it was time for supper. We quickly washed as we were told and entered through the kitchen door where we saw Mrs. Campbell speaking with a black woman by the stove. She looked at us and without stopping her conversation, pointed to another door which led to the dining room. Captain Campbell was already seated at the head of the table with Mary on one side and Charlene on the other. There were two place settings next to Charlene and one next to Mary, with Laura and Mrs. Campbell placed on the end of the table opposite the captain. The captain looked jolly and said, “Sit down, gentlemen, you’re in for a treat! Mrs. Campbell is the best cook in Charleston!” I quickly sat down next to Charlene as Frank sat next to me and Charlie found his seat next to Mary. Mostly we had hardtack and salt pork for the past six months, and now for the second day in a row I was going to eat like a king! The smells coming from the kitchen were heavenly. Soon the kitchen door swung open and the small black lady that we had seen in the kitchen came out with a large plate of chicken and placed it right in the middle of the table. The captain said, “This is Maybelle, if you want anything from the kitchen, just ask.” Mrs. Campbell followed her into the room with a plate of biscuits in one hand and a bowl of corn in the other. Maybelle went back in the kitchen and soon returned with a large bowl of potatoes and a bowl of gravy. Mrs. Campbell sat down and Maybelle departed for the kitchen as the captain motioned us to give thanks. We all bowed our heads as he said, “Lord, thank you for your favor on my family and friends. Thank you for the abundance you have blessed us with and the safe return of me and my crew, and thank you for looking over my family while I was away. Bless this food we are about to partake for the nourishment of our bodies, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen!”

  The food was fantastic. I don’t know if it was really that great or just the idea of having something other than what we had at sea. We spoke courteously and the conversation was just idle talk as the captain’s daughters expressed their joy and devotion to having him back. Mrs. Campbell looked at us and said, “So what in tarnation made you boys want to sail with my husband at such a young age?” We did not say anything for a moment or two, then Frank said, “Well, ma’am, I wasn’t doing anything special, and—” The captain looked at his wife from across the table with an eyebrow raised and his head slightly cocked, he mercifully interrupted Frank as he struggled to find the right words, “Everyone has one reason or another, Margret, we don’t need to implore the boys to tell us a boring story now.” Then he quickly and masterfully changed the subject, “Did you make a pie? I thought I smelled the distinct aroma of a perfectly baked apple pie.”

  “Yes I did!” She said excitedly. “Are yawl ready to try some?” It was clear the captain was very good about keeping subjects he did not want to discuss on an alternate path. Mrs. Campbell got up from her seat and scurried off to the kitchen to retrieve the pie. The captain looked at us and gave a slight smile. He had saved us from an awkward moment of trying to explain why we had arrived at our current station in life’s journey. The captain’s words were true, we all have one reason or another, some are running from something they knew, others are running toward something they do not, but all have a personal story to tell that should only be told at the bidding of the teller. Mrs. Campbell happily returned with the pie and we all ate with great appreciation.

  Charlene asked to be excused and returned a few moments later with a book, “Father, won’t you read a little for us?” He took the book and looked at the cover, “The Robbers by Friedrich Schiller. All right, this looks promising, but we will all take a turn.” As I reckoned, the captain was going to make this a teachable moment. We all moved into the parlor adjacent to the dining room and the captain sat in a large chair next to the fireplace. Mrs. Campbell sat in a rocking chair, pulled out a ball of yarn with some needles, and began to knit something that was partially completed. Through the open doorway, I could see Maybelle clearing the dishes from the dining room table. She moved so quickly and gracefully that she made almost no sound at all.

  The captain opened the book and began to read the story of a wealthy family in Germany. The story seemed to focus on two brothers that were at odds—one good and one not so good. After reading a chapter he handed the book to Charlene and she began to read. I was amazed at her pronunciation of the words, her sentences flowed without hesitation, I thought she must go to a very good school. The book looked new, had a nice leather cover and the pages were crisp. After she read awhile, she handed the book to Frank. Mrs. Campbell was quietly knitting as Laura crawled up into the lap of the captain. He looked around the room as Frank read. He didn’t appear to be looking for anything in particular, but rather just sat back and was content with the moment. Charlie was next to read and he appeared anxious, he turned pale and his leg was shaking slightly. Frank gave him the book, after taking it, he looked at the captain as if trying to avert the task. Captain Campbell looked at him and gently said, “Go ahead, Charlie, just a few pages if you please.” The captain knew Charlie struggled with some words and Charlie seemed terrified to read aloud in front of others. He began reading slowly, he was challenged by some of the wording, but was doing adequate. Then he came across the word aristocrat and mispronounced it as a “a-risto-cat”. Frank started to laugh and said, “That’s a cat tied up around your wrist with a string!” The girls started to laugh, as did I. Mrs. Campbell even managed a little giggle. Charlie was embarrassed and turned bright red. The captain did not laugh, but turned to Frank and said sternly, “Perhaps we can find something you don’t do so well to entertain us, Mr. Hill!” Everyone fell silent as he said to Charlie, “Go ahead, son, blessed are those that persevere over adversity in their pursuit of excellence.” Charlie looked at me and began to read. My own anxiousness began to well up inside as I thought what if I can’t pronounce some of the words! What if Charlene thought me to be simple minded? Charlie read on satisfactorily until the captain told him to pass the book to me. I could see the relief in his face as he handed me the book.

  I began to read sufficiently, only stopping a couple of times to correct my sentence. When I got nervous, I would sometimes hurry my reading and skip a word, so I’d have to slow down and restate the sentence. The story itself was intriguing but little action which made it somewhat boring to me. After I read for a while, the captain stopped our evening entertainment and applauded our efforts. I placed the bookmark where we stopped and we retired for the evening. The captain walked us out to the coach barn and said, “Boys, we will be going to church in the morning, I want you on your best behavior.” Then he looked at Frank directly and said, “Do you understand?” We replied with a firm aye. Then his demeanor changed and he said in a gentle way, “It’s been a real pleasu
re to have you boys here.” He looked at us warmly and said, “Good evening, gentlemen.” Then he left.

  10

  Grace Presbyterian Church

  The next morning the captain and his family all dressed admirably for church. Frank, Charlie, and I looked as best we could and we all loaded into the wagon and set off. Mrs. Campbell had risen early and prepared food with Maybelle for the church noon meal. It was a clear, cool morning, and the rains from the previous day had left the road muddy. We arrived at the church which was already surrounded by many. About fifteen or twenty wagons lined the field next to the church. The church was much larger than the one I attended in Halifax County. It was white with six large stained glass windows on both sides with a steeple almost as high as the mast of the Eagle. The crowd made their way into the sanctuary slowly, as many of the congregation greeted one another along the way. Once inside, we made our way to a pew about halfway to the pulpit. As we filed into the pew, Mrs. Campbell led followed by Laura, Mary, and Charlene. I wanted to sit next to Charlene, but before I could follow, Charlie pushed his way in. We pushed each other before the captain leaned down and whispered firmly, “I’m not going to tolerate any nonsense, do you understand me?” We acknowledged and I followed Charlie into the pew trailed by Frank and the captain.

  The pastor made his way to the pulpit. He was a thin man with gray hair and a short gray beard wearing a black suit. He welcomed the congregation and in particular recognized the captain upon his return and the captain introduced Frank, Charlie, and I as guests. The pastor had a high-pitched voice which emanated throughout the church. We sang a few hymns before the offering plate was passed through the pews. I thought about the coins I had in my pocket. Should I give a tithe? I don’t even know these people, why should I give up one of my silver dollars? The plate came to me and I made a hasty decision not to put anything in the plate. I passed it to Charlie and I was astonished as he put a silver dollar in the plate! Was he just flaunting his wealth and generosity to Charlene? I didn’t understand since I know he was saving his money for his mother.

  The pastor imparted his sermon about the Good Samaritan which lasted about an hour before prayer time began. The pastor conferred several areas that needed congregational prayer for the community before we began to pray in the pews. This was always the hardest time for me since I rapidly got bored and fought to stay awake. About three quarters of an hour passed when the distinct sound of a snore broke the silence. Someone near the back of the church had fell asleep causing a slight eruption of laughter. A minor scuffle ensued and the tithing man putting a quick end to the disturbance. After an hour of prayer we adjourned for lunch. The congregation had about an hour and a half before returning for the afternoon service.

  During the service, I began to think of father, Eliza, and I attending service in Halifax County. I wondered what he was doing at that moment. I went outside and the cool morning turned into a very comfortable afternoon. I walked to a clearing nearby overlooking a small pond. I had not been to a service since departing North Carolina and the visions of my past continued to cloud my mind when my concentration was shook by a sweet voice saying, “What are you doing over here, Clyde?” It was Charlene, with two of her friends. I explained that I just wanted to take a walk and think about the sermon. She introduced me to her friends, but I didn’t pay attention to their names, I was thinking how pretty she looked. Then she said, “I just wanted to tell you that lunch was prepared and the congregation would be giving thanks soon.” I nodded and she departed. As she left, I saw her mother watching us from a distance.

  Did I know God? That was a thought that ran through my mind more than once. I knew of God, but was he real? Was it God that led me to Captain Campbell? Was it Simon’s luck? The pastor preached about God’s love, mercy, and forgiveness. I couldn’t comprehend how a God of love for mankind could allow my mother and sister to pass away and leave my father a drunken dispirited man with a ruinous disposition. My parents were good Christians, they knew God and perpetually praised and worshiped Him— what goodness did they receive? I clutched onto the trinity knot which my father had given me. Simon had brought me providence, I thought. Was my destiny controlled by the grace of God, or is there no destiny and everything flows in life by chance? Was it chance that led me to Captain Campbell?

  My thoughts were suspended as Charlene appeared again, this time alone. “They’ve already said grace,” she said as she pointed to the congregation sitting on blankets in the pasture near the church. “I came to get you before the food is all gone. What are you holding?” She asked with a sincere voice. “It’s a triquetra carved out of bone, my father gave it to me.”

  “Can I see?” I reluctantly opened my hand and showed it to her. “A Celtic trinity knot—It’s charming! My mother has one. Your father must love you very much.” I didn’t answer, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Then she cheerfully asked, “Where is your father? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No, my father is in North Carolina and my mother and sister passed away long ago.” I could tell by her manner that she suddenly took pity, I didn’t want her pity—I didn’t want to spoil her joyful mood with talk of my dreadful past. Then she brightened up again as if lighting a lamp and said, “Well then, we’ll be your family in South Carolina! Shall we eat before the next service?” I couldn’t avoid but to be encouraged by her smile and merry temperament. The pain of the past temporarily melted away and I felt a peace on that pleasing autumn afternoon.

  After the second service, we all packed up and made the journey back to the captain’s home. That evening while we were eating supper there was a knock at the door. Maybelle went to the foyer and answered. A few moments later, she returned to the dining room with Mr. Duffy. The captain looked at him inquisitively and said, “Mr. Duffy, what can I do for you this evening?”

  Mr. Duffy replied, “Sir, I apologize for my intrusion on your supper, but I was finally able to retrieve the mail for the crew. There were some letters for you, Mr. Hill, and Mr. Best, and I thought it appropriate to get them to you as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you,” the captain said as he retrieved the letters given by Mr. Duffy. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “No, sir, I must be getting back to the ship.” Then he saluted and bid his farewell. The captain looked at the letters, and then handed three letters to Frank and one to Charlie. He had four letters in is hand and gave out a long sigh as he looked at them. Then he leaned back in his chair and gave a short laugh as he said, “These letters have probably traveled all around the Caribbean just to end up being delivered at the very place they started their journey!” Mrs. Campbell walked down to the end of the table next to the captain, looked at the letters in his hand and said, “So would you like me to tell you what is written or read them yourself later?”

  “I’ll read them later, it’s medicinal,” he said with a

  smile. Then Mary, in a high, squeaky voice, said, “Daddy, where’s the letters for Clyde?”

  Mrs. Campbell said, “They’re probably on the ship, honey, Mr. Duffy just forgot to bring them.”

  I felt embarrassed, but I was grateful that Frank and Charlie put their letters in their pockets for later reading. Charlene glanced at me and gave me an understanding smile. The captain again walked us out to the coach barn. He asked if we needed anything but his question seemed rhetorical as he appeared deep in thought. After the captain departed there was a flash of lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder off in the distance. Rain soon drummed on the roof as Charlie and Frank huddled close to the lantern to read their letters. I didn’t see them write any letters, but I know Frank had written some because he gave a couple to Mr. Duffy to send out while we were anchored in Dominica. The sky’s opened and the rain began to pour down in buckets as the little barn began to spring a few leaks. I felt a sense of peace as I lay back on my bunk and looked at the ceiling of the barn. One leak was trickling down onto Charlie’s bunk—he looked annoyed at
the interruption as he moved his bed out of the drip and continued to read his letter.

  I thought how fortunate I was to be warm, dry, and on land during a storm. The storm was harmless enough, but at sea it stoked the embers of fear. I remembered the screams of the men on the merchantman that went down in the clutches of the sea. I pushed the thought out of my head and tried to focus on what a marvelous situation I was in at that moment. Charlie let out a loud, “Holy cow!”

  I almost fell off my bunk in surprise as I said, “What is it?”

  “My sister got married to a Collier!” “What’s a Collier?” I asked.

  “They are a family that lives down by the James River. They are mostly farmers, but I didn’t expect she would be getting married so soon.”

  Frank leaned over and said, “How old is she?” “She’s fifteen,” Charlie replied.

  “That’s practically an old maid, Charlie,” Frank said laughing.