Of Parchment and Saltwater

Chapter 28

(Kinda period-incorrect, character-incorrect picture but yknow...there wasn't much else out there hehe)

I raced to Alexander's side and gritted my teeth in frustration. How could I have let this happen? Nathaniel Pendleton held him half-sitting in his arms, looking to me in panic.
     Burr began to approach but I held up a hand and yelled, "No, get back. Meet us on the other side of the Hudson. Mr. Pendleton, get the boat ready."
     Alexander took me by the arms as I began to unbutton his waistcoat and managed, "This is a mortal wound, Louisa." I shook my head adamantly and he sank away, appearing to be lifeless.
     Fumbling for the knife in my apron, I cut away his shirt and coat to reveal the ugly bullet hole in the middle of his chest. It was immediately obvious that some vital part of him had been struck by the bullet.
I felt no pulse. He wasn't breathing. I put a trembling hand to his heart and broke down in tears despite myself.
Nathaniel sprinted up to me and I choked, "The only chance for his reviving is to immediately get him upon the water and in the boat. Can you help me?"
He nodded and picked up his upper half, while I carried his legs. Gently laying Alexander down on the floor of the rowboat, Nathaniel jumped in after him and began with the oars.
     I pushed the boat off, up to my thighs in water as I waded in and awkwardly climbed over the edge of the boat. Collapsing beside Alexander's limp frame and scrambling to my knees, I cried, "Alex, come on. Can you hear me? You've got to wake up."
     I rummaged through my medical bag and rubbed his face, lips, and temples with spirits of hartshorn, trembling in dreaded anticipation.
     Applying it to his neck, chest, wrists, palms of his hands, and pouring some into his mouth, I whispered, "Mr. Pendleton, how long until we reach the shore? I don't think he can make it much longer."
     "The tide is with us," he panted, "I can probably make it in twenty minutes. Don't worry about that; just keep him alive. He didn't want to shoot Mr. Burr...you do know that, yes?"
     I nodded miserably. Suddenly, Alexander moaned and put his hand on his chest, his head lolling to one side and face contorted with pain.
     I gasped in relief and pulled him into my arms with a sob. His eyes caught the case of pistols and he took my hand firmly. "Take care of that pistol; it is undischarged, and still cocked; it may go off and do harm. Pendleton knows," Alexander attempted to turn his head towards him, "that I did not intend to fire at him."
      "Yes," said Mr. Pendleton, understanding his wish, "I have already made Mrs. Tallmadge acquainted with your determination as to that."
     I removed his wire glasses and hat, trying to make him more comfortable, but he was quite obviously in a lot of pain.
     He closed his eyes and remained calm, without much speaking except in reply to my questions. He asked me once or twice how I found his pulse (I lied that it was stable) and mumbled a few words about Eliza.
     "My legs," he managed as we approached the dock, "have lost all feeling. I have no hopes that I should long survive, Lou. Just take care of my family."
     I glanced at the pool of blood forming beneath him and cursed under my breath. If he was truly paralyzed, it would be a slow, agonizing death.
     Putting two fingers inside the deep wound, I felt gently for the bullet. Alexander whimpered in pain and grasped desperately at my hands.
     "Shh," I whispered as reassuringly as I could, "just relax. It's alright. I've got to find it so we don't hurt you even more when we get to Manhattan. Just hold my hand."
     Blood spurted from the wound the moment my fingers reached the bullet. Nathaniel pitched over the side of the boat and threw up, retching and choking horribly.
     "I'm sorry," he coughed, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me-"
     "Don't apologize. I know the feeling. Would you like me to row when I'm finished in here?"
     He shook his head and wiped his mouth, trying to avoid looking at Alexander's open wound.
     I kept one finger on his spine and reached for the bullet extractor in my bag, a luxury I didn't have during the war due to it's time-consuming and exhausting nature. But this time, with such a dangerous position of the bullet embedded in his spine, it would work just fine.
     Extending the long metal tool that looked a little like a sword, I put it carefully in the wound and pushed it against the bullet.
     "Alexander?" I said, crouching so he could look straight into my eyes, "This will hurt. Please don't knock me out or tip the boat."
     I offered my leg out for him to squeeze since my hands were occupied, and put the screw at the end deep into the bullet. Hamilton's legs seized up and trembled as the nerves in his spine were disturbed.
Gritting my teeth and taking a firm grip on the handle with my scarred hand, I removed the extractor and the attached bullet in one movement. Alexander cried out in agony and Nathaniel sucked in a deep breath.
Now that it had been removed, my mission was now to restore feeling and movement in his legs and keep him alive. Neither of those seemed likely, I realized, as we approached the dock.
The rowboat carrying Aaron Burr and William Van Ness was being tied up a few meters down from us and I called for them to help us get him to someplace I could operate, although I wasn't sure they had heard me.
    Pendleton and I carried the writhing Alexander off the boat and laid him on the cobblestone as I turned to see Burr walking steadily the other direction.
     "Where are you going?" I screamed to him incredulously, "We need your help; you can't just-"
     The Vice President held up a hand without turning around and continued walking away. Van Ness was nowhere to be found.
     I clenched a fistful of my bloody apron and turned to Nathaniel in exasperation. "I can't do this alone. Help me, I beg you."
He nodded we carried him together to Alexander's house, not far from the harbor.
     "Go inside," I panted to Nathaniel, setting him down gently on the porch, "and tell Eliza what has happened and get the children out of here. I'll stay out here with him."
     Alexander looked lazily at me when Pendleton went inside and managed, "Is Eliza here? I want to see her."
     I took his hand and nodded. "I'm sure she is. It's going to be alright, Alex."
     He chuckled a little, whispering, "I've heard you call me that a lot since this morning. Considering the circumstances," a bit of blood dripped from his mouth as he coughed, "I suppose I have no choice but to let you call me that. I owe it to you...Lou."
     Tears streaming down my face, I smiled and embraced him. "I can call you whatever I'd like," I cried softly, "because I carried you all the way from Weehawken, hmm? Should have thought of that sooner."
     The front door flew open and Eliza fell beside her dying husband, screaming in devastation. To my surprise, Angelica followed her and knelt next to me, putting both hands on Alexander's face without a word. Her mouth was open as though she wanted to cry, but she was frozen.
I looked up to Nathaniel who had his hands folded awkwardly in the doorway. "She had already read the letter he left for her," he mouthed to me, "The children are upstairs."
Nodding, I put a hand on Eliza's shoulder and whispered, "Shall I take him inside so he will be more comfortable?"
She looked up at me with broken eyes and sobbed into my chest, putting both arms around me and pulling me down onto the ground. "Thank you, Louisa. Thank you for being there. Thank you."
Surprised at her reaction and expecting an accusation of guilt for allowing the duel, I tentatively embraced her back.
"Inside," she said to herself as she pulled away, "Let us take him inside."
Nathaniel and I picked Alexander up again, setting him on the sofa in the parlor after putting a blanket over it. Angelica pushed past me when I went to retrieve my medical bag from the porch and shot me a furious glance.
"Alright," I said, turning to the servant standing pensively in the corner, "can you bring some boiling water and a candle or lantern?"
    She nodded and hurried away as I began setting my tools on the floor. Eliza talked constantly to Alexander and Angelica stood beside her quietly as though she was guarding over her.
     When the servant returned with the materials, I held each knife over the fire to clean them and dropped the ones I wasn't using in the boiling water.
"Nathaniel," I said hurriedly, "you needn't stay for all of this; you've done so much already. I could never repay you."
He tried to smile and put his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. "I'm glad you were there, Mrs. Tallmadge. Is there anything I could do for you?"
"Actually," I stammered sheepishly, "there is one thing. My husband...we are staying in Brooklyn. Could you, perhaps, find someone to ride there and tell him to come here? I know he would like to see him," I motioned to Alexander on the other side of the room, "and my children could keep the Hamilton children occupied."
He bowed deeply and nodded. "I'll go there myself. Thank you."
     I spent the next seven hours ceaselessly cleaning the wound, attempting to ease Alexander's pain, and experimenting with ways to help him regain movement in his legs. Nothing seemed to be working.
He was slowly dying, growing weaker every moment. Eliza and Angelica stayed with him the whole time, and Angelica snapped at me on many occasions over the slightest thing I would say or do. Eliza noticed and tried to help the situation, but I could tell she didn't have the energy.
"Louisa," Alexander whispered, taking my blood-caked hand, "you've got to rest. I'll be alright for a little while. Please."
As much as I hated to leave, he was right. I wasn't sure how much longer I could go without a break.
Rinsing off my hands and nodding silently to Eliza, I excused myself and sat on one of the chairs on the porch with a sigh.
For the first time since the boat ride to Manhattan, I let the tears fall freely.
Angelica was right. This was my fault.