Home of the Brave

by D P Prouty

  Mr. Edwards went below deck to be alone that morning. I found Mr. Duffy several hours later, but he had no answers to who Antonia was or where Green Gato had come from. Mr. Edwards didn’t talk much about his past. As we were speaking, He saw us conversing and shuffled up to us. He said, “The cat was all I had of her.”

  Astonished, Mr. Duffy instinctively asked,

  “What?” Visibly upset, Mr. Edwards sat next to us and said, “Antonia… She was my daughter.”

  Neither Mr. Duffy nor I dared to interrupt him since this is the first time he had really spoke about his past. He went on, “I met her mother years ago while on the Copperhead in the Canary Islands. She moved to Bilbao in northern Spain when Antonia was two. Such a sweet girl.” He placed his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. “I should have spent more time with her, but I thought it more important to fight the British, what a fool I was!” He looked up at me and took a deep breath. “I wrote her as often as I could, but I don’t know if her mother gave her my letters.” He stood up and we did as well, quietly looking over the waves he said, “Antonia grew into a beautiful woman full of life. She took sick several years ago. I received word and traveled to Bilbao, but by the time I arrived, she had already died. The cat belonged to her—our only shared possession.” Tears ran down his face as he quietly looked out to sea. Then he said, “Regret is a disease that will consume your very soul. Don’t let it consume you!”

  Mr. Duffy put his arm on his shoulder and whispered, “I’m sorry, Sally.”

  I felt out of place and slowly backed away from the two men. I was honored that Mr. Edwards shared his innermost confidences. A complex man with deep emotional scars to be sure. I thought my troubles were significant, but that is in the eye of the beholder.

  It was a brisk morning when we arrived in Boston harbor with the Genoa. After anchoring in the harbor, the morning was spent getting our crewman from the Genoa back aboard the Enterprise as the captain went ashore with Lieutenant Thorn and Mr. Walsh seemingly to corroborate the report of the pressing incident on the Genoa by the British.

  Lieutenant Somers informed the crew we would not be staying long before making way for Baltimore. Mr. Duffy was standing alone staring out at the city from the forward bow. As I approached he anticipated our conversation and explained, “If I had the time, I’d go see my brothers in the city.” He turned to me and told how he was thinking of what Mr. Edwards had said and thought how he hadn’t seen his brothers in a long time. Then he asked, “When is the last time you saw your family?” I told him it had been nearly five years since I’d seen my father. “You should go and see him,” he said. I replied, “I don’t know if that’s wise. He probably hates me and he’s no saint either.” Then he said to me earnestly, “Only the guilty need mercy, Clyde. Give your father a chance—you lose nothing by visiting him and possibly everything to gain.”

  It was early December 1801 before we made it back to Baltimore. Fells Point was a welcome sight as we sailed in under the cloak of the early-morning darkness and dropped anchor. Not long after sunrise, the captain and Lieutenant Thorn went ashore in the ships boat to get instructions. By early afternoon they returned and we weighed anchor and sailed to the dock. We were greeted with great elaboration as a band played and dockworkers cheered our arrival. They had heard of our victory over the Tripoli before we arrived and the papers had reported the exploits of the now- renowned Enterprise. The city opened up and celebrated the crew as we received great praise from our countrymen. I felt proud to be a member of the ship, everywhere people were buzzing about us, yet I also felt somewhat awkward, after all, that was why we were sent. I felt a strong sense of pride in belonging to an extraordinary crew and ship.

  After cleaning up the Enterprise and getting the crew on the dock, we were given a month’s pay as a bonus for our deed in the Mediterranean as well as a month’s leave time. Mr. Duffy was smoking his pipe and talking with Mr. Edwards standing next to him outside a building on the dock used as temporary galley. Mr. Edwards looked pale and in need of rest. He had a blanket around him and pulled it tight around his shoulders. It had just started to lightly rain and with a brisk breeze felt doubly cold. The crisp air was filled with the sweet smell of stew from inside and the sounds of joyful sailors telling stories.

  As I approached them, Mr. Duffy greeted

  me, “Mr. Carter, how are you this fine afternoon?”

  I looked up at the sky and said, “Weather could be better, but I’m doing fine.” Mr. Duffy replied with a smile. “The weather is as God wills it, our attitude should be that of gratitude, lest we worry about that which we cannot change.”

  “And how are you, Mr. Edwards?” I asked.

  He replied, “I’m just a little tired is all, doing fine.” Then he coughed a little.

  Mr. Duffy asked, “Have you given any thought to where you might go with your leave?”

  I answered, “I was thinking to stay here around the crew and help with the repairs.”

  Mr. Edwards spouted out, “Go see your father. Don’t wait, don’t argue, don’t reconsider. Just go see him. He won’t turn you away.”

  I began to say something of an excuse when he interrupted me abruptly, “I’m not asking you, boy! You go see your father, if you don’t you’re a fool!” Then he turned and went into the galley.

  Mr. Duffy looked as surprised as I’m sure I did, he said, “Pay no attention, Mr. Carter, he’s not been himself lately.” As I stood in the cold rain that afternoon, I knew he was right. I had procrastinated long enough in this matter and

  I needed to confront my father.

  Dr. Batterton found me before the officers were to meet for an evening meal. He said, “Clyde, that break in your arm and wrist will keep you on land for a while, I don’t want it causing problems at sea. I’m recommending you for shore duty.”

  I responded, “Bat, I’m all right, my arm is healing fine, I don’t have that much pain.”

  He again asserted, “You will, when that brace comes off your arm you won’t be able to shake a hand and certainly won’t be able to grasp a rope or hold a cutlass for a while.” I didn’t protest further since I knew I could not make headway. He told me I would need to see him and get a new brace before I departed anywhere.

  Captain Sterett announced at the officer’s mess that evening that following a month’s leave, the crew will be given a ceremony. “We have not received orders yet, I expect we will receive them upon our return. But I do have a bit of good news. Our own Mr. Lewis is to be commissioned as a lieutenant before we dismiss the crew in a couple of days!” The officers cheered and offered congratulations to Jim who was overjoyed at the news. I was happy for him, but inward I was a little disappointed because I knew he would likely be transferred to another ship.

  It was cold but the sun shone through on that January afternoon as the crew formed in honor of newly promoted Lieutenant James Lewis. Lieutenant Thorn read the orders and Captain Sterett congratulated him followed by a robust applause by the crew. Mr. Lewis was very popular among the men and I thought how difficult it would be to replace his welcome demeanor. After the crew was dismissed, I asked Lieutenant Lewis where he thought he might be assigned when we return. He said, “I don’t know. If Dick Somers or Jonathan Thorn get reassigned, maybe I’ll get to stay aboard the Enterprise.”

  I responded, “I sure would like that.” Then he repeated the advice given me by Captain Shaw to continue to study for the lieutenant’s exam. I knew I had about a year before I was eligible to apply, and I took heed of the counsel—I wanted to be commissioned.

  We said our good-byes and Mr. Duffy handed me several letters before I departed the dock. All of them were from Charlene and I looked forward to reading them. I was ordered to report to Dr. Batterton that afternoon and he took off the old splint, gently cleaned my arm without moving it much. The dark purple hue of the bruising looked awful and started to ache. He put on a new splint and wrapped it tight with bandages. Then he asked about my shoulder which s
till had some bruising as well. I told him it was fine, but I don’t think he believed me. I put my jacket on missing half of the left sleeve and Bat wished me well. I asked him where he was going on leave and he just smiled and said he had a lady to call on. I made arrangements to depart for Norfolk where I would make provisions to continue on to Halifax. I thought of just traveling to Charleston to see Charlene and weighed the matter but found it necessary to see my father. I didn’t know what the result of this encounter would bring, but I did know I needed to release the past.

  28

  Soil

  Reading Charlene’s letters as I traveled down to Norfolk propelled me into another place and time. Memories of our first meeting danced in my head as I pictured the blue dress matching her eyes. I remembered her teaching me to dance and George attempting to cut in. She wrote that George had asked for her hand in marriage, but she turned him down. She also said that he had not stopped attempting to court her and continually pursued her. This gave me second thoughts about not going to see her. At that moment I felt life closing in on me—so much to do, I needed to study, I needed to confront my father, and I needed to see Charlene. I missed her, but I was conflicted on what I should do. Did I love her? Perhaps Lieutenant Baker was right, I should have challenged George to a duel. When I arrived in Halifax an enormous anxiousness came over me. I thought I should turn back and leave before anyone saw and recognized me. I sat outside the tavern in the town square and again I hashed over the same arguments of why I should or should not continue, not noticing a woman approaching me. She stood before me and said, “Excuse me, sir, you are in the navy?” I did not recognize her, but it had been five years since I had been here and even then I did not come to town often. We went to church in the country and only came to town to pick up supplies and retrieve mail. I nodded and she said gently, “Are you looking for someone?” Again, I nodded and she asked who it was I was looking for and I told her, “I’m looking for William Carter. He has a farm a few miles to the north of here.” She hesitated, the slowly said, “I’m very sorry, sir, but I must tell you that Mr. Carter died last winter.” My heart sank and I felt a wave of heat in my face. I felt a great sorrow and regret that I had not come before. I sat down on the bench outside the tavern and the woman sat down next to me echoing that she was sorry. I told her I was fine and she went on her way to the store across the street. I felt sorrow, but at the same time I felt a release from the burden to confront him, now I had no ties to this place. I went into the tavern and got a drink of water. The next coach would not depart until the following day so I needed to find a place to stay the night. It was a cool December afternoon although the sun was shining. I came outside and was standing at the entrance when I heard someone shout my name. I saw a figure of a woman running toward me but the sun prevented me from seeing her face clearly. She ran up and threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek. It was Aunt Sarah! Uncle Daniel soon followed her and she said, “Clyde! I’m so happy you came home!” I winced as she hugged me tight. “Oh I’m sorry did I hurt your arm? You’re so handsome with that uniform and all.”

  Uncle Daniel said, “Sure is good to see you, boy!”

  I told them how I couldn’t stay long and Aunt Sarah objected sharply, “You’re not getting away that quickly, young man, you must come with us!”

  I asked her where father was, “Is he next to Mother and Eliza?”

  She looked at me strangely and said, “No, he’s repairing the barn roof today I think.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, “A woman told me he was dead!”

  Uncle Daniel chuckled. “He’s not dead, he’s married.”

  Aunt Sarah hit him lightly with her elbow and then I saw the woman who had told me my father was dead.

  I pointed at her and said, “There she is, that woman told me he was dead!”

  Uncle Daniel chuckled again. “That’s his wife!”

  Aunt Sarah scowled at her as she advanced and said, “You should be ashamed of yourself, Cassy!”

  Uncle Daniel introduced her as Cassandra, but said everyone called her Cassy. She said to me, “I am sorry for misleading you. I didn’t know you who you were.”

  I smiled and accepted her apology but I knew she was not only a liar but also made excuses for her actions as well. It was clear to me she thought me an intruder and she was evidently not one to be trusted.

  Uncle Daniel asked me if I was hurt bad and I told him it was just a break and would heal up just fine. I asked Uncle Daniel where my cousins were and he said, “Martin and John are working the farm and the others are in school! We have a school now with a fine teacher you know.”

  On the way home, Aunt Sarah had explained that father had looked everywhere for me. “William went as far as Norfolk and Charleston but could not find anyone who had seen you. He gave up hope until a young man found him about six months ago. He said his name was Frank Hill and he had been with you in the navy.”

  I was amazed Frank had traveled here to look for me. I thought he was still in Norfolk somewhere. I wondered where he might be. Time passed so quickly, had it really been that long ago? I realized it had been almost four years since Charlie had died and over two since I’d last seen Frank. I missed them both. I kept quiet on the ride up to the farm. I thought of Cassy. She knew I was in the navy since she was told so by Frank. I was certain she knew of my identity as soon as we met.

  Arriving at the old farm, it looked smaller than I had remembered. I saw the oak tree where Simon was buried and the family cemetery where my grandparents, Mother, and Eliza rested. I could see the house and as we approached my stomach began to churn tensely. As the wagon stopped I saw the tall thin frame of my father coming out of the barn near the house. His dark red hair flowing from beneath his dirty straw hat as he slowly walked toward us with a pail in one hand. He stopped and waved at the four of us sitting in the wagon. He paused, glaring at us for a moment. I thought I’d made a mistake by coming here. He dropped the pail he was carrying and ran over to the wagon as I got off. He embraced me and lifted me off the ground. “Praise God!” He shouted, “My boy is alive and home!” My arrival was not the grim reception I had thought it to be.

  Aunt Sarah and Uncle Daniel invited Father, Cassy, and me to dinner for the following night and then departed after reassuring me how happy they were that I returned. Cassy prepared a meal while Father and I talked near the fireplace. I asked him if he was angry that I ran away from home. He leaned in close and said, “Boy, my anger almost consumed me.” He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. “But then I remembered the words of your mother when she told me you were like a hummingbird staying only for a season then departing. Even then she knew you would not stay on the farm. She’d say, ‘Farming is not in his nature.’ I had to choose between anger and love, I chose love. I already had my fill of sorrow and anger.” Then he explained how he searched for me for several months, but couldn’t find me. He drank himself into a stupor and blamed God for his troubles. “One afternoon Daniel found me lying on your mother’s grave. I awoke after he threw cold water on me, I didn’t even know how I got there.” He expounded how Daniel began to shout and told him to rise out of the mud and build on what God had given him, not wallow in pity of what God had taken away. “I realized that God had given me land, a home, and animals to raise, and a few hours of drunkenness could not heal the hurts of the past. They would still be there after I sobered up.” He told how he did his best to rebuild his life, quit drinking, and met Cassy one afternoon in town. “She made me happy, although she could never replace your mother. I love her equally and now we will have a baby!” He said gleaming.

  He pulled in close to me and said gently, “I’m so sorry, Son, please forgive me for my intolerable behavior. When I saw you today, I saw…them.”

  “Saw who?” I asked.

  He smiled as his eyes became glassy and said as his voice cracked, “I saw your Mother and Eliza, in you! How could I have been so foolish as to force you away?” I didn’t know
how to respond, a flood of memories came to mind as we sat quietly next to the fire.

  I broke the silence and told him about my travels and my first meeting with Captain Campbell. He listened intently as I told him about Charlie and Frank. “Frank was the one who visited you here looking for me,” I said as he nodded. I told him about the Eagle and my journey throughout the Caribbean. I told him of Charlene and how much she meant to me. I expressed how I was a midshipman on the Enterprise and how I hoped to one day be a commissioned officer. He reached over and gently grabbed my arm and said, “I’m proud of you, Clyde, you can do whatever you apply yourself to.” I thanked him and told him about my apprehension in coming home, but I was pleased to see him well and content.