Home of the Brave

by D P Prouty

  He told me of how he met Cassy and how she was two or three months along and they expected the child to be born in the summer. He reassured me that no one would ever replace Mother, but Cassy made him happy and revived his sense of purpose. He told how he acquired several slaves to help work the farm and he even had the navy contract for several acres of hemp for rope production. He was proud of his farm and I admitted that I didn’t share the same enthusiasm for farm work that he did. But what he said next I always recalled, he said, “Clyde, you need to find your treasure and your kingdom. Your treasure is what you value most on earth and your kingdom is where it is. For me, my treasure is my family—your mother, sister, you, Cassy, and the baby. My kingdom is this soil which we walk. To some it is just dirt, a place where I have toiled to achieve the seasonal success of crops to fill the stomachs of men and beasts. But to me, this soil is immensely more valuable. This soil contains my memories, hopes, and dreams. Some of heartache, others of joy. But it is mine, a place I live, work and will die. You must find your place, Clyde, what is your treasure? Where is your soil?”

  I thought about the question but did not reply. What was my treasure? I thought about Charlene and how much I wanted to see her.

  I stayed at the farm for a few weeks helping my father repair a barn as best I could without removing the splint, and repairing our relationship as well. I grew to understand him more and enjoyed his company. I was not the same young boy I was when I left and he was not the same man either. I didn’t talk much with Cassy. Although I was very cordial, I did not trust her. Before leaving, I caught her alone and told her, “Cassy, you don’t need to fear me, I don’t want anything from this farm except my father’s respect, the rest is yours.” She seemed surprised at my assertiveness and I said, “I don’t have the patience to be ambiguous so that is as plain as I can make it.” She didn’t reply and I left it at that.

  It snowed on my way back to Baltimore. I still had the splint wrapped tight and looked forward to removing it. I thought perhaps Bat would approve me for sea duty, but upon my arrival, he removed the splint and bandages—and the pain of moving my arm and wrist was as he said it would be. I purchased a new jacket to replace the one that was cut and Bat gave me a leather ball to exercise my wrist. In February, the crew of the Enterprise was assembled and Captain Sterett was awarded a commemorative sword on behalf of the government for the successful engagement of the Tripoli. A band played and we listened to several politicians tell us how much they appreciated our efforts. Mr. Edwards was noticeably missing from the formation. No one seemed to know his whereabouts until a courier delivered a letter to me along with a small package. The letter read:

  My dearest Clyde,

  Death will be calling me soon and I am very sorry to not see you one last time. I have no family and as I was always fond of you, I leave you part of my estate consisting of half of my savings—the other half going to my friend and shipmate Duffy. I have also included this brooch which belonged to my mother and I am returning your Celtic trinity knot which I found when I was getting my belongings off the ship. It was in the place where Green Gato slept so I think maybe he found it on deck somewhere and took it. Please don’t sell the brooch, keep it in your family. I have already paid my funeral expenses and debts, so what is remaining in the account is yours and Duffy’s. Don’t fret over my passing, I am looking forward to joining my shipmates, I’ve been long overdue in seeing them.

  Your friend, Salvatore Edwards

  In the package was the Celtic trinity knot, the brooch, and an account receipt from the State Street Bank and Trust Company of Boston showing a balance of just under two thousand dollars. I found Mr. Duffy after notifying Captain Sterett of Mr. Edwards’s demise. Mr. Duffy had already received notification of the passing of his friend and was just as surprised as I that he bequeathed his wealth to each of us. He said, “Sally was certainly a hard man to figure, but a more loyal friend there is none.” Mr. Duffy told me how Mr. Edwards confided in him how proud he was of me that I managed to become a midshipman and thought I would make a fine officer one day. I wished he had told me those things himself and I felt a strange sense of loss as if I lost a close teacher who had helped me develop into the person I became.

  I received orders to stay in Baltimore and assist Captain Bainbridge as he too was assigned shore duty. The Essex was undergoing refit and Captain Bainbridge along with his First Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, were assigned to the Baltimore shipyard to oversee the construction of the schooner Vixen in Baltimore and the brig Syren in Philadelphia about a hundred miles away. He was also to oversee the cannon production at Cecil Furnace north of Baltimore at Havre De Grace, Maryland. Captain Bainbridge was a passionate officer and he attacked this assignment with the same vigor as attacking a French privateer.

  29

  Forging Hope

  My disappointment on staying ashore intensified as the Enterprise was again preparing to cruise back to the Mediterranean Sea. The squadron, under command of Commodore Morris was much larger this time, consisting of six frigates along with the Enterprise and George Washington. The squadron was to rendezvous at Norfolk before cruising toward Africa. The frigates Boston and

  Constellation were already in the Mediterranean awaiting the remainder of the new squadron and Captain Campbell was given command of the frigate John Adams sailing from Charleston. The excitement along the dock was exhilarating as men prepared to engage the Barbary pirates once again. Newly promoted Lieutenant Jim Lewis was assigned duties aboard the George Washington commanded by Captain Shaw. My heart sank as I watched the Enterprise sail out of the harbor without me.

  Captain Bainbridge, Lieutenant Decatur, and I were given a tour of the facilities at Fells Point by an older gentlemen who said he’d been working there for many years. The buildings formed a large square with the lumber yards on the northern end. He pointed out the sawmill, toolshed, and blacksmith hut. Some slaves worked on the docks as well, loading and unloading wagons of hemp, lumber, and old cord. A column of prisoners quietly stood outside a building. They were dressed in canvass shirts and pants with black stripes. I asked the man, “Sir, why do you have prisoners here?”

  He mumbled back, “The prisoners work in the oakum shed,” he said pointing at the building. “They spend their time unraveling old rope to be used for caulking.” Then he showed us our office, a small outbuilding next to the toolshed. It had one window, three desks with chairs, and a small stove in the corner.

  Captain Bainbridge was a tall man with an imposing bearing. He had curly brown hair, short on the sides with long sideburns and a clean-shaven face with a cleft chin. He was not one for a lot of idol conversation although he would relax on occasion. He was very thorough, sitting at his desk reviewing ship specifications, costs, and progress reports. Lieutenant Decatur and I were often tasked to retrieve a document or relay information from Captain Bainbridge to one of the shipwrights or the cannon manufactures which meant that on occasion I got to travel which I enjoyed. Lieutenant Decatur, who was from Philadelphia, took every opportunity to see his family while on assignment and since he once worked at Humphrey’s Shipyard in Philadelphia, Captain Bainbridge relied on his experience heavily. He was opposite of Captain Bainbridge in many ways and similar in others. He too took his role earnestly but he also was very outgoing and enjoyed a good story. He was of average height with straight black hair, clean-shaven with sharp blue eyes. He was a close friend of Lieutenant Somers as they were schoolmates and who was well known to me as well. His father was a veteran of the Revolution and a commodore who recently retired from active service.

  I was in the office alone one afternoon reviewing some figures for Captain Bainbridge when a fellow midshipman entered and introduced himself as James Decatur. He asked where he might locate his brother Stephen and I informed him that he would be back shortly. He then asked which desk was his and I pointed to it. He departed the structure and returned a few minutes later with a smelly fish. He put it behind his brother�
��s desk, and told me not to say anything and left the office. Lieutenant Decatur returned about ten minutes later and asked, “Clyde, do you have the report on how much powder is requested for cannon proving at Cecil Furnace?”

  “Aye, sir, it’s here somewhere,” I replied as I searched through the papers on my desk. He sat down, sniffed the air, and commented, “We’ve got to clean this place up.” I found the request and handed it to Lieutenant Decatur as Captain Bainbridge walked into the office and sat down. He looked around the room and barked, “What’s that stink?” No one said a word, he stood up and squinted as he looked at us and repeated his question. A slight laughter could be heard seeping in by the door and Captain Bainbridge shouted, “What’s funny and what’s that stink? Whoever is laughing come in here!”

  James appeared at the doorway and apologized for laughing. He said, “Sir, I am James Decatur, Stephen’s brother. I was just jesting, sir.”

  Captain Bainbridge turned red and told the midshipman to stand at attention. “This is not a schoolyard, mister!” He turned back toward me and ordered, “Get this place cleaned up, now!” He stormed out of the office not amused by the prank. Lieutenant Decatur jumped up and embraced his brother saying, “You sure know how to make a first impression, James!”

  Lieutenant Decatur turned to me, “Clyde, this is my little brother, James!”

  “Aye, we met as he was putting that fish behind your desk,” I replied.

  Lieutenant Decatur didn’t seem to care and smiled saying, “That’s my brother James, always joking.”

  Lieutenant Decatur suggested, “Well then, let’s get a drink.” I replied, “What about Captain Bainbridge?”

  He responded, “He’ll cool off soon enough.” He told James to get the fish out of the office and the three of us strode down to the pub at the end of the dock. “What are you doing here, James?” Lieutenant Decatur asked.

  James said, “The President just came in for repairs. I’m here for about two weeks I think.”

  We sat in the pub and had a few drinks when I asked James, “What’s it like on a large frigate like the President?” His answer was not enthusiastic, “Some like it I suppose, but it’s dire to me. With over four hundred aboard its fairly crowded. I’m hoping to get transferred when I get commissioned.” He told me he passed the exams and asked when I would be taking them. I told him sometime in the fall. He told how the written exams were fine, but the oral examination by the panel was demanding. “I had Captain Barron as the senior officer on my panel, not the older one, but his younger brother James. What an arrogant ass, he fired quick questions and did his best to unnerve me.” He expressed how elated he was that he passed after the ordeal. Spring came early and I was so occupied that time seemed to dash by. One particular morning I arrived at the office and was surprised to see Captain Bainbridge at his desk reviewing forms so early. He turned to me while sitting at his desk and said, “Clyde, I have a task for you that I think you’d enjoy.” He beckoned me to sit so I sat in my chair and he asked if I’d like to travel to Charleston.

  “Aye, sir, I’d like that!” He knew of my affection for Charlene and thought of me upon reviewing some requisitions. He explained that I would need to meet with some suppliers of live oak and Georgia pine in Charleston and provide a new requisition for delivery to Baltimore. I wrote a letter to Charlene letting her know I would be arriving in a few weeks and I hoped that she would be expecting me.

  It was a warm afternoon when I arrived in Charleston. I made my way to the dock to meet with the gentlemen as requested to inform them of my arrival then made my way to Captain Campbell’s house. I knocked on the door and was greeted by Maybelle with a grand smile. She invited me into the parlor and went to notify Mrs. Campbell. Mrs. Campbell soon appeared and told me that Charlene was running an errand but would return soon. Her demeanor was much softer than I had experienced and she asked if I’d like anything while waiting. She beckoned Maybelle to bring some drinks and she returned a few minutes later with a refreshing glass of lemonade. Mrs. Campbell expressed that she was concerned about the war with the pirates, and in particular her husband. I did my best to ease her concerns, but she probably knew more about the dangers of sailing than I did. Charlene soon arrived and Mrs. Campbell departed to give us some privacy.

  Seeing Charlene made my heart leap. Charlene was captivating, she had grown into a beautiful woman and I could see why George was so anxious to marry her before someone else stole her away. She wore a blue dress which emphasized her sculptured figure and matched her blue eyes. Her dark red hair now flowed halfway down her back. I began to feel nervous and unworthy of such a beauty as she broke into a smile and embraced me. I held her hand and my anxiety disappeared, she was the same friend I had always known. She told me how happy she was to see me and explained that she had just received my letter two days prior. We spent the afternoon catching up on what had happened in our lives since we’d last seen each other. She explained that George had proposed to her twice and her mother had encouraged her to accept but she declined his advances. I told her about Captain Sterett and the crew of the Enterprise and I also told her about the passing of Mr. Edwards and Green Gato. Mrs. Campbell invited me to supper and I accepted. I didn’t want to impose, but I enjoyed the company so much that when I was continually invited for a meal, I made a point to accept. I stayed in Charleston for several days before the time grew short for my departure. Again I was invited to the Campbell residence and after supper I sat with Charlene on her porch. She held my hand as we watched the lightning bugs dance in the yard and said, “Clyde, when are you coming back?” I told her I didn’t know and she asked if it would be fine for her to visit me in Baltimore sometime. Surprised, I said, “I’m looking forward to seeing you.” Then she squeezed my hand, pulled in close, and whispered, “I love you, Clyde.”

  I blurted out, “I love you too, Charlene,” before I even realized what I’d said. I thought, Did she just say that? She smiled, and I held her, then she kissed me.

  I sensed she was out of sorts and she again told me how George pursued her. She asked me, “What are you going to do about it?” I didn’t expect her to ask that question and had no idea how to reply. When I didn’t say anything, she started to cry. “What’s wrong? Did George do something to you?” I asked. Then she pouted. “No, it’s not that.” I waited for an answer, but she was quiet. I thought, maybe I’m supposed to know what’s wrong—am I really in love with her? If I was, would I know what she’s talking about? Then she looked at me and tenderly said, “I’m seventeen and many of my friends are getting married. I don’t want to marry George. I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love!” I felt like I was hit with that yard arm again—this time on the head. It was clear to me she wanted me to ask her to marry! I gently explained that although I loved her I feared disappointing her. Then I said, “Besides, I need to ask your father first.” I thought since he was away, that would give me some time to think this decision through. She let out a giggle and replied, “I already asked him, sweetie!”

  “What?” I responded.

  She said, “I told him of my wishes and he told me to follow my heart and he would always support me. He said he already thought of you as a son anyway.”

  I softly expressed that I too was only seventeen with an uncertain future. “What if I fail my test? What if I can’t provide you with the future you deserve?”

  She whispered, “I have faith in you. I have faith in us! We don’t have to set a date yet.”

  I realized she had planned this encounter for some time now, a great tactician in her own right. My only option was to strike the colors so I asked for her hand in marriage on the porch. She accepted with a scream of joy and ran inside to tell her family, I followed behind as she told her mother, sisters, and Maybelle—the ladies began to scream and jump as if the house was on fire. They offered congratulations and I privately told Charlene we must wait for my commissioning before we could marry and she agreed.

  I left a ve
ry happy Charlene and a sure-to-be- disappointed George behind in Charleston as I headed north back to Baltimore. Charlene had arranged to meet me in Baltimore the following month with her mother. I wrote a letter to Captain Campbell on the trip back not knowing when he would receive it, explaining that I was now engaged to his daughter and added how I promised to take care of her to the best of my ability.

  I reported to Captain Bainbridge upon my arrival and passed on the reports from the lumber suppliers. I also delivered the news of my engagement and he tittered a bit. His reaction surprised me and he explained that he’d talked with Captain Campbell a month before the John Adams sailed. “Hugh told me of his daughter’s plans. Never underestimate the influence of a woman,” he said. He knew before I knew—was I the last one to know I was going to propose?

  While Lieutenant Decatur was away in Philadelphia, two well-dressed men arrived and requested a private discussion with Captain Bainbridge so I departed the office while they spoke. After they left, I returned to find Captain Bainbridge incensed. He was busy compiling some of the reports on his desk and stuffing them into a pouch, noticeably upset and grumbling to himself. “Sir, do you need any assistance?” I asked.

  He replied, “Bloody politicians! I have to leave to Washington, Clyde. Stephen should be back in a couple of days. I should be back within the week, just let him know where I’m at and I’ll explain upon my return.” I acknowledged and he departed the office. I told Lieutenant Decatur what had transpired upon his arrival, he smiled and said, “He has a bitter distain for politicians! He once had to take a tribute to the Dey of Algiers to prevent his corsairs from attacking our merchantmen while we were still fighting with the French. He was forced to fly the Algerian colors while ferrying the Dey to Constantinople and back, which infuriated him. He later complained to our country’s leaders but the incident fell on deaf ears.”