Of Parchment and Saltwater

Chapter 22

     P.s. Make sure you didn't miss the last chapter, I published it during a weird time of day so you'll be real confused if you skip a chapter:) love y'all

My dearest love,
Oh, how my heart aches at the thought of you, dear Benjamin, and I eagerly await our reunion. I hope you are well and that Samuel has not driven you to madness this past week. Things are not at all as I expected, dear Heart, and the conditions of the people here are in fact much worse than I previously imagined. Philadelphia has become a city of widows, orphans, and terror. No one knows when it's going to end and the despair is sickening. Even dear Alexander and Eliza have been stricken, although they are both improving. You must understand, despite the suffering I've faced, that I am glad I'm here, and I don't want you to think that I'm prepared to leave yet. I have learned so much from the other doctors here and have already seen so many lives saved. The hospital is run by Stephen Girard, a Frenchman and wealthy philanthropist here, and he reminds me tremendously of you in his mannerism and speech. I even saw one of the diseased discharge the contents of his stomach upon him yesterday. What did Girard do? He wiped the patient's clothes, comforted him, arranged the bed, and inspired the man with courage, by renewing in him the hope that he should recover. From him he went to another patient, that vomited matter that would have disheartened any other than this wonderful man. The practice of bleeding here is quite rampant, and I have no evidence to defend my weariness of the method, so it continues. Dr. Jean Deveze, one of the chief French doctors here, prescribes bloodletting to almost every patient he meets! Despite that, I've found a good friend in him, and he reminds me of the Marquis de Lafayette in many ways. Do not fear that I will soon come down with this fever; I do not feel any of the symptoms, besides those caused by exhaustion. All twenty-one of the doctors and nurses here share one room, but we are all so tired when we retire for the night that we never talk, so I confess I don't know much about most of them. I miss waking up every morning to your countenance, and I dread missing a moment of Samuel's childhood but it will all be over soon. Once the frost comes, we will all find some respite from this fever and I'll be able to come home. I love you, Benjamin, and I beg you to write me.
With all the love in the world,
     Louisa Tallmadge

I swatted away a mosquito and laid back in the pile of hay I was sitting in. I could hear the footsteps of the other doctors and nurses above me, walking around the barn loft converted to an area for convalescing patients.
There was a knock on the decaying wooden door and Dr. Deveze peeked in tentatively. "Is this your new hiding place? Among the horses?"
I laughed a little and patted the dapple-grey stallion that was grazing beside me. "It reminds me of my husband; I was just working on a letter to him."
     "Well, I hope I'm not interrupting," he said, pulling up a bucket to sit on and wiping his hands on his apron, "You seem quite fond of him."
     "I am. I miss him terribly. And what of you, Doctor? What do you miss?"
     He pursed his lips and twisted a piece of hay between his fingers. "I don't think you want to hear about my life, Madame. It isn't very, ah, réjouissant."
     "Rejoicing?" He nodded, and I continued, "You don't need to worry about me, Doctor; I've seen more than you can imagine."
     The Frenchman took a deep breath and looked at me earnestly. "My wife. She was killed in the slave revolutions in Saint-Domingue a few months ago. My young son and I fled here to Philadelphia, but he died of scurvy on the way."
     I was stunned. "I'm so sorry," I breathed, "You hide your grief remarkably well, sir. Your wife...was she killed by your slaves?"
     He looked up at the beams above us and I could tell he was blinking back tears. "We didn't even own slaves, Louisa! They dragged her out into the middle of the street and beheaded her in front of everyone as an example. I had no choice but to take Samuel to America."
     I did a double-take and stammered, "Samuel? That is your son's name?
     "Oui," he answered miserably, "Why do you ask?"
     Tears of my own filled my eyes and I was overcome with emotion. "Dr. Deveze, my son's name is Samuel, also. I'm so, terribly sorry for your loss...how can I ever help you?"
     He shook his head and waved a hand. "There is no need to feel sorry for me, my friend, this job is enough distraction. Now come, I'm sure Monsieur Girard has plenty of distraction for both of us. I'll post your letter for you if you'd like, Madame; I am headed into town later tonight to pick up some more supplies for the hospital."
I smiled a little and folded the letter, pressing it into his outstretched hand. "If you ever," I hesitated, realizing that I sounded so much like all the people who tried to sympathize with Benjamin and I after the war, "If you ever want to talk about anything, I would listen."
He chuckled. "Merci, my friend, perhaps I will talk about it. One day."