Arthur Brown, The Young Captain

by Elijah Kellogg

“Your father was of most open and generous nature, far too much so for his own interest, and, as I then thought, for that of his family, while my disposition was very different. My parents were poor, and I was brought up by a relative, early taught hardship, knew the value of money, and was naturally prudent. Your father would take the clothes off his back to put on anybody else. I used to go to sea with him, when we were first married; and when sailors came on board without clothes, he would give them clothing, fix them all up, and make them comfortable. I used to tell him, sometimes, that if they drank, gambled, and threw all their money away, they ought to suffer the consequences, and his first duty was to his family. But it was no use to reason with him; he couldn’t help it—couldn’t bear to see anybody suffer; and at length I refrained from saying anything on the subject, but tried to economize all I could, to offset his liberality. He never concerned himself about household matters, was gone a great part of the time, and left everything to me.

“He would come home, and bring barrels of sugar and molasses for family use, and bags of coffee, and have them hauled up to the house; and also quantities of fine cloths from Europe and the East Indies for me and the children, and material for towels, curtains, and bedding. After he was gone, I would live as prudently as possible, sell a great part of the things sent home, and put by the money against time of need.

“After our third child was born, he began to alter gradually, and seemed to have different ideas, became more prudent, and, as he was a man of great business talent, began to accumulate, and soon owned a good part of the vessel, and, had he lived, would have become a wealthy man, but was taken away in a moment. There was no insurance on the ship or cargo, and all he had accumulated was gone, except this house. Then, being left a widow, with a young family, I found the benefit of the little I had saved.”

“I’m sure, mother,” said Eliza, “I don’t see what you have to reflect on, except with satisfaction. You were not saving for yourself, but for us children, and for father, had he lived to be old, and past labor.”

“Ah, but I was so anxious that your father should lay up something for his family, that after he was gone, I felt that perhaps I had said more than I ought; sometimes, too, I would discourage him from doing for others, when it did not consist in giving money; when he would spend a great deal of time at sea in teaching some young man navigation, when, as I thought, he ought to have been asleep in his berth, or resting; often, when he was on shore, and I wanted him to go with me, he would be running here and there, night and day, to get a vessel built for somebody, and oftentimes get small thanks for it, as I told him. Then he would say, ‘Harriet, we were put into this world to help each other; we ought not to feel vexed or disappointed if we do not always receive gratitude from those we have befriended, when we consider how ungrateful we are ourselves to our Maker, but do our duty.’ These things often came up in memory, after he was taken away, and I would have given anything if I had not said some things, and could have taken them back.”

“But, mother,” said Ellen, “I don’t think you ought to feel so. You meant it for his good.”

“I thought I did, at the time; but since then I have felt there was a good deal of selfishness at the bottom, that ought not to have been there; that your father felt it, and it pained him, for I could see a shade of sadness flit across his face, like a cloud across the sun in a spring morning.”

“Don’t cry, mother,” said Arthur, putting his arm around her, and wiping away the tear that trembled on her cheek.

“But when,” she continued, in a voice broken with emotion, “in the midst of my anguish about you, that letter came from Pleasant Cove, telling me your life had been saved by Captain Rhines (one of the very boys your father had worked so hard to help), so full of sentiments of affection for your father, and gratitude for the favors he had received from him, and a few days later your letter, telling me of their kindness to you and Ned, I was overcome.”