Reflections in the Wake

Home > Other > Reflections in the Wake > Page 9
Reflections in the Wake Page 9

by James Spurr


  Mrs. Perry caught James’ eye, nodded and assured Marie, “Tonight, certainly, but you are welcome for the duration, and please consider it seriously. I no longer have Benjamin and my need for assistance is both real and immediate.”

  Both James and Marie looked at Mrs. Perry for an explanation.

  Mrs. Perry continued, “Had you not stopped by, Captain James, Benjamin would have been at the wharf by now, claiming a seat in your gig. He bears a special written appointment from the Secretary of the Navy, given him last evening, for he claims, as do you, to be one of my husband’s men. He is upstairs, packing his sea chest.”

  Captain Lee sighed and smiled, “I should have already guessed.”

  A short while later, Marie and James said goodbye on the front stoop, alone, having off loaded her belongings and taken on one sea chest.

  James pled with her to wait for him. He apologized for breaking his word. He confessed he would miss her terribly. His voice, his eyes, the way he grasped her hands, held her and kissed her told Marie he was sincere in all respects.

  Captain Lee, with Benjamin, directed the carriage toward the sea, for the fist time in his life leaving ashore a woman more important to him then the lady with which he was departing. He had never gone to sea with such a sense of loss and foreboding.

  The leather satchel, containing so many letters, awaited him on his desk.

  Chapter Five

  Four days later, Captain Lee stood at the binnacle of Lexington. Having just cleared New York harbor and with blue water ahead, he gave the two helmsmen the course, “A point east of south.” Then, thinking of the long, straight, unimpeded sail to Venezuela as the helmsmen acknowledged, “Aye,” and repeated the course, he thought to himself, Hold that, lads, until you next see land off the starboard bow.

  Despite Captain Lee’s written recommendation of Mr. Cosgrove to succeed him as Captain of John Adams once the refit was complete and she began a new life yet again, Mr. Cosgrove determined there were simply too many other captains more senior on the list, having already made their step, for him to hold much of a chance. He opted to remain with Captain Lee and was at that moment supervising the setting of t’gallants and would remain busy for much of the watch setting the new stuns’ls. Mr. Cosgrove had never been to Venezuela and while disappointed to remain as First Officer, both Lexington and their destination were new. In addition, the sentiment underlying the mission was among the oldest known to navy men. There seemed something solemn, even reverent in returning one of their own, and a hero at that, to his home.

  Captain Lee ordered all sail set. Every scrap. The wind was fair from the nor’west and while gusts coming off of the land soon settled into a consistent breeze, the velocity was such as would have had most others, were they in command, considering whether to reef. Cosgrove did not question. He was having too much fun determining what Lexington could log and the young mid at the rail wrapped a rag ‘round his fingers so to ease the chafe of the knotted line trailing and pulling from the stern.

  Just before the first posted watch was relieved, Captain Lee went below before the last retrieval of the log was complete. He did not much care about the log. With every sail set, as was just recently well accomplished, Lexington was sailing as fast as any man could hope in the existing wind and sea. All Captain Lee cared about was that Lexington could hoist no more, log no better, and every trick he knew with respect to sail shape and load trim had been employed in a race few on board even understood was underway.

  But Benjamin knew. He was asked to serve as Captain Lee’s personal aide. As such, he recognized the small madness. The disproportionate expended effort so to achieve small increases in speed, if any, made little sense when considering the wear on men and material. Benjamin knew Captain Lee had slept little the past few nights, sometimes reading, but more often writing. Benjamin wondered whether the lack of sleep was the cause or the effect of the troubled spirit driving Lexington to her utmost.

  Benjamin watched Captain Lee retire from the deck to his quarters well before dinner and wondered if finally he would sleep. Benjamin recalled that just that morning, before Lexington cast off her lines from the New York Yard wharf, Captain Lee directed him to post the last of three letters in as many early mornings. The last letter was addressed to Mr. Samuel Southard, Secretary, United States Navy.

  But Captain Lee was thinking much too intensely to sleep. Rather, he entered his cabin, not so ‘great’ aboard the flush decked sloop of war as was aboard John Adams, though the smell of fresh paint and varnish was still strong. He read once again a copy of a letter already posted, too late therefore to correct, for no other reason than to buttress his faith in the course he had already charted for his personal life:

  22 July 1826

  The Right Honorable Mr. Samuel Southard

  Secretary of the Navy

  Washington

  United States of America

  Sir,

  U.S.S. Lexington departs this day for that mission assigned me by you, by written order delivered upon the occasion of our meeting aboard U.S.S. John Adams in Newport harbor.

  She is a fine sloop of war and I am grateful for the opportunity of command of her as we undertake a task important to the service and our nation. Of all of those so capable of accomplishing the same, I shall forever be grateful that I played some small part in making right that which pained me so, last I was off the shore of Venezuela.

  Still, I have been at sea nearly continuously since a lad of very young years and wish to inform, so to allow you all the time available, that I request that you seek a replacement for me as Captain of her.

  Upon the return of U.S.S. Lexington from the mission assigned her, I have determined to resign my commission in the Navy and retire from the service which has so consistently supplied me the value and happiness I have found in life and you have my assurance that if our nation is ever in need, I will without hesitation be among the first to enthusiastically respond.

  With the Utmost Respect and Gratitude,

  Captain James Lee

  U.S.S. Lexington

  Yes, he thought. It read well, reflecting upon his Aunt Margaret, who had taught him to read and write in her drawing room in Philadelphia after the death of his mother and before his father landed him his first berth aboard U.S.S. Chesapeake in ’07.

  More to the point, it fulfilled his pledge to Marie. Not that she would know for some time. Indeed, she may never know. But if she was there upon his return from a shore that had haunted him for now seven years, he would always be able to show her that he had indeed quit the navy within just days of their parting.

  The winds remained steady, the helm required little by way of course change and the braces went untouched for days at a time. Small squalls were infrequent but the fresh water bathed the sails, deck, clothing and rigging and was much appreciated for the purpose of softening the known world for the 162 crew aboard Lexington.

  Captain Lee regarded Benjamin as a welcome relief. Benjamin knew well their destination. Benjamin alone, of those on board, recalled the last time Captain Lee anchored off the coast of the Orinoco River or called upon Port of Spain, Trinidad. Benjamin had not been there to witness it all, but saw how it ended and with what effect upon then First Officer Lee.

  Eight days outbound from New York, then well south of Bermuda on a beautiful afternoon, Benjamin witnessed the Sailing Master approach Captain Lee’s cabin door. The Sailing Master knocked and heard only, by way of reply, “Report,” as opposed to the more hospitable, “Come.”

  The Sailing Master, as ordered, imparted the facts and information through the cabin door, “Sir, we are logging a steady ten, with the fore, main and mizzen tops’l and t’gallant yards buckling. Request permission to take in the t’gallants.”

  Benjamin raised an eyebrow and then shook his head. Such a request was normally made to the officer of the deck; on this watch, Mr. Cosgrove. The request confirmed for Benjamin that Captain Lee had left standing orders at the binnacle s
o as to restrict the prerogative of his officers.

  Captain Lee quickly replied through the door, “Permission denied. Press her still. Take no sail off ‘er.”

  “Aye,” replied the Sailing Master, exchanging a concerned glance with Benjamin and returning to the deck.

  Benjamin knocked, having brought a glass of wine, as requested and from the sound alone of his rap, Captain Lee replied, “Come.”

  Upon his entering, Captain Lee offered, “Thank you, Mr. Fleming.” He barely looked up from a letter. Benjamin noted the open flap of the leather satchel on his table.

  Benjamin offered, “We may break a record, yet, Captain!”

  Captain Lee replied with little interest, “Records are for fools and egotists.”

  Benjamin confessed, “Most of the crew would wager that is what we are after, pushing so hard; respect won for a new ship on her first long run.”

  Captain Lee, finally resolved to bear the interruption, directed, “Tell them, Mr. Fleming, that respect is most often the result of actions earned with some other worthwhile goal in mind and rarely successfully sought out for its own sake.”

  Benjamin was not sold. He inquired, “So how many days are we allowed?”

  Captain Lee maintained, “I have no idea what constitutes the current record for New York to Port of Spain, let alone where we stand in relation to it, and don’t so much as care by what time we put in or for that matter, return. Who among us will ever recall daily or hourly totals? What good the record without purpose? Our name on some soon forgotten list signifies nothing.”

  Benjamin slipped out of the cabin and decided to take the deck and observe the buckling yards as would explain the extreme angle of heel for such fine weather. He elected to keep Captain Lee’s comments to himself. The crew needed some hope that the risks were for some end, however vain or fleeting. Benjamin thought it best not to inform them a woman waited in Newport.

  Captain Lee turned in his chair. A woman may be waiting in Newport, but the seeming urgent need for speed was driven at that moment more by an unconscious desire to sail as quickly as possible from the scene unfolding in his imagination, conjured from the parchment held in his hands. The angle of heel further reclined the back of his chair so to allow some small comfort from that which, as he read, pained him deeply:

  April 8, 1816

  Captain William Lee

  In the Care of Mackinaw Customs Office

  Mackinaw Island

  Michigan Territory

  Dear William:

  I trust the coming spring finds you and Bemose well and busily

  engaged in uprigging and commissioning for this coming season.

  Your sister Mary is well and the children, growing fast. The busi

  ness is slowly recovering but the occupation was hard and the local

  economy still depressed. Creditors are unmerciful and seem not to

  understand my sloop is lost, the cargo stolen and all return on my

  investment and theirs, hopeless. The federals refuse compensation despite their use of her after Put-in-Bay and seem to place great weight upon the fact that John Bull seized Friends Good Will, utterly ignoring that it was the U.S. Navy in command at the time of her demise.

  I intone that useful service of any private asset is never to be regarded as free, but, I fear, to no avail.

  Should the store continue to generate few sales, I may try my hand with a public house and have applied for a license, now required. Some here in Detroit point to land to the north as rich, cheap and the natives friendly, but for now, we shall try for some time to rebuild in Detroit.

  Please take a cargo south this season, if possible. Mary misses you deeply and the children would love to see you again. Give not a thought for Fleet. You acted with honor and he well deserved his end.

  Yours,

  Oliver

  Captain James Lee always knew what was imparted in the letter. In the deep recesses of his intellect, a small voice was forced to admit that as he shared the insular world upon a canted deck with Captain Perry, comprising voyages far from his home over a period of years, those that remained after the great guns fell silent throughout the Great Lakes struggled with personal loss. The very fabric of society which they had all worked to weave for decades unraveled before their eyes.

  He broke into a near sweat sitting in his cabin at the realization that he had never returned home to assist. He had never so much as written some lines and sent little hard currency. He felt hollow and ashamed reading of his uncle Oliver’s struggles even as that man put aside his own troubles to counsel James’ father.

  Captain Lee read and imagined each phrase by way of sight, toil and despair as unfolded in a frontier village and among people he knew so well. He regarded the love of family felt, although parted and distant, scraping out a living with few good options available. He regarded his reliable “three squares a day,” an understatement of late given his status as Captain.

  Mostly, he wondered as to the end of Lieutenant Fleet, as may have caused a righteous man such as his uncle to offer to a hard man such as his father advice as to how to deal with the death of a despicable enemy. He wondered what he and Marie would regard as just, when whatever had happened was so justified in an aged letter as reflecting ‘honor.’

  By the second week of August, having endured a frustrating calm off Antigua despite having kept well to the outside of the Lesser Antilles in search of stronger winds, Lexington approached Trinidad from the northeast. Captain Lee was on deck, but allowed Mr. Cosgrove to wear the ship in the fresh trades and handle the approach into Port of Spain harbor while selectively striking sail.

  Port of Spain was in the northwest quadrant of the island and served as the departure point for expeditions up the mighty Orinoco River for well more than one hundred years. More than one thousand miles long, the Orinoco presented a vast delta spanning hundreds of square miles and numerous tributaries at the extreme eastern end of the Caribbean Sea. The delta swamps and wetlands, at just seven degrees latitude, offered a perfect tropic mixture for the diversity of life and at the same time, a cauldron for human disease.

  The activity aboard Lexington shortly after her anchor was let go was a mix of frantic preparation for presenting the best possible impresssion of the United States Navy and the excitement of a new destination for many of the crew. This important first impression was aided by a new ship with a new suit of sails, presenting a rare opportunity for near perfect “harbor furls.” At the same time, the crew was hopeful that arrival at a small island may well lead to leave, as the opportunity for desertion was negligible and the conduct of the Ship’s Company, on the whole, had been exemplary since departing New York.

  Amid the activity and excitement, Captain Lee stood at the larboard rail aft of the capstan and stared across the harbor to the south. His gaze suggested concentration, if not distraction. The crew left him to his thoughts. Benjamin remained near, but busy so to disguise his concern. Lexington’s officers, as was reminded by Mr. Cosgrove, understood that Captain Lee was one of Perry’s men and the purpose of this mission would naturally cause their Captain some reflection and even melancholy. Mr. Cosgrove and some also knew that their Captain may well be longing for Miss LaPointe, whose presence many also missed.

  But only Benjamin knew why that afternoon, upon dropping anchor, Captain Lee stared across the harbor at the precise location where, seven years before, a yawl boat had approached from a man o’war, as the U.S. Schooner Nonsuch had at the same time rounded the southern headland and made her early approach for Port of Spain, perhaps little more than an hour from anchoring alongside John Adams.

  Captain Lee walked slowly from the rail, aft to the skylight over the wardroom. He took a seat on the coaming, as Benjamin pretended to clean the glass of the day’s salt spray and open the panels to allow the fresh breeze below. Before Benjamin could attend the larboard side, allowing more privacy for those speaking on deck from those listening below, Captain Lee gestured for
him to take a seat next to him, “Come Mr. Fleming, let us talk.”

  Benjamin did not answer but willingly complied. He took a seat forward of Captain Lee on the coaming. Captain Lee then softly suggested, “Let us both recall and speak about that which we did not witness; that which we need to know, or if not, need to confess.”

  * * *

  Trinidad and the Orinoco River, 1819

  First Officer James Lee was torn.

  He wanted in the worst way to experience the mission 200 miles up the navigable river. Trinidad seemed exotic enough, but after three days of preparation and a confirming visit from an emissary of Simon Boliver, Lee knew the importance of the discussions which would soon occur upriver in Angostura, the capital of Venezuela. While Commodore Perry would clearly be the spokesperson for the United States, the adventure of a river excursion tempted Lee greatly.

  On the other hand, assuming command, if only temporarily, of John Adams, a Untied States Frigate in a foreign port, in a region swarming with pirates whose crimes they had been sent to suppress, was an attractive challenge and a significant role in the overall mission.

  Commodore Perry, decisive as always, had just moments before in the great cabin settled the matter. After listening for all of ten minutes to a number of options suggested by subordinates, Commodore Perry announced with respect to his squadron of three, “Captain Osgood,” addressing the Captain of the U.S.S. Constellation, frigate, “will weigh within moments and patrol the surrounding area, cooperating and assisting other ships of similar intentioned nations to thwart any pirate activities.” Perry looked at Osgood, explaining, “We need to send a signal to the new Republic of Venezuela that the United States would prefer its cooperation, but is prepared to act in its best interest, alone, if necessary.”

  Osgood nodded and Perry continued, “I will transfer my flag to Nonsuch and also depart momentarily.” Perry turned to his aide, standing by the cabin door, “Mr. Tiffany, prepare my dunnage. Gather Mr. Fleming and I will speak to Mr. Taylor,” Taylor, the Third Officer of John Adams, nodded. Perry explained, “we will ask one of the midshipman and perhaps a few others to accompany us in Nonsuch, rounding out her compliment.”

 

‹ Prev