Of Wildflowers and Gunpowder

Chapter 22

     General Washington's headquarters was a flurry of activity when Benjamin and I walked in, maps unrolling, quill pens flying, and officers talking loudly over each other.
     Benjamin excused himself to speak with Elisha Sheldon, his superior officer in the 2nd Light Dragoons and Washington approached me welcomingly, looking unsure of what to do around me after my meeting with him the night before.   
     "Miss Adams, thank you for coming. I hope you had a restful night," he trailed off awkwardly but I smiled graciously, offering him my hand.
"I apologize for yesterday evening, Your Excellency," I said, looking down at my hands.
He motioned for me to sit and replied, "Do not be sorry. I apologize that I acted so insensitively. But I know you would rather not speak of it. I wanted to give you this, Miss Adams," he removed an ornate silver pistol from the desk beside him and offered it to me. I sucked in a breath at the sight of it.
  "Please take it, you will need to protect yourself on the battlefield and this is the least burdensome weapon I can give you. The Marquis de Lafayette gave this to me."
Reluctantly, I took it in my hands and examined it in awe. His initials were engraved in it and it was made of beautiful wood with silver accents on the handle. I was terrified of losing this, and I tried to tell him so. He simply insisted that I have it.
"I have many other weapons, Miss Adams and I doubt many of these men would take kindly to me fighting on the front lines. Take it, I beg you. Now, let us call this chaos to order, shall we?"
I nodded and smiled at his elegance as he ordered everyone to sit around the table. Of course, I was the only woman at the table but I noticed Dr. William Shippen, Jr. sitting a few seats down from me; the Director-General of army hospitals. I disagreed with him about many of his ethics but no one could deny his skill as a doctor and surgeon.
"Now, gentlemen," the General said as he rolled out an enormous map of the Chesapeake Bay and the city itself; each battery, redoubt, and barricade labeled in red ink, "we have quite the trial ahead of us but I believe we have the power to overcome it well. The Marquis de Lafayette is on his way to where we will be camped and Comte de Rochambeau has already organized his soldiers with 29 French ships and about 8,000 troops. We will take the position on the right, and the French will be on the left," he drew two long lines on the map and labeled them.
     "Thanks to intelligence gathered by Miss Adams, we know that Lord Cornwallis has a chain of 7 redoubts and batteries linked by earthworks and other defenses. They most certainly know of our presence here now but they haven't known for long, which gives us the advantage of preparedness. When we arrive on the battlefield, we will have a clearer notion of which redoubts will be the most troublesome for us to capture. Our first priority will be to dig a trench—our first parallel—to establish defense for the night. We will begin marching in fifteen minutes."
I looked around at the men nodding fervently and concentrating hard on every word that left Washington's mouth. Nobody wanted to be the one responsible for a mistake that could cost the Revolution everything.
He continued laying out individual plans and locations for each group but nothing would be certain until we were in the midst of the fighting. The meeting ended abruptly and everyone filed out to make final preparations before we began marching. As I was on my way out, Dr. Shippen called out to me and motioned for me to come back inside.
"I am Doctor William Shippen of Philadelphia, and you must be the illustrious Louisa Adams with whom I have exchanged so many letters. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine, sir. I trust you will be on the battlefield as well? I must admit, I am quite anxious," I replied, remembering the long letters I had written to him asking about anatomy and the legitimacy of popular medical beliefs I was skeptical about. He was certainly polite and thorough in his responses but quite condescending, obviously not pleased with the fact that a woman was doing so much to advance in the field he seemed to have mastered.
"I will be present, yes, but not on the front lines like you. If there are too many injuries for you to handle by yourself, they will be sent to me to relieve some of your patients. I trust you will have plenty to do either way."
There was something irritating and cocky about the way he said it but I pretended it didn't bother me. "Thank you, sir. But, if you don't mind clarifying, what did you mean by myself? Surely there will be other doctors on the front with me."
He laughed. "Of course there will, Miss Adams. But you can't believe that our siege lines will be small enough for you to have help in your area! They will be spread thin, all across the city's defenses. I know you are a woman but I thought even you would know that."
     I was glad I was wearing my cloak, otherwise he would have seen my clenched fists.
     "Well, I suppose I had better get ready then," I said, fuming as I walked out of the tent where Benjamin was waiting. "The arrogance of that man," I said, my breath billowing in the cold air, "I am certainly glad I won't be working with him."
      Benjamin smirked and put an arm around me.  
     "Doctors," he said with a fake straight face, "they're all crazy, hmm?" I rolled my eyes as we made our way to the area where Benjamin's company was camped, the group preparing to march.
     I greeted the men warmly by name, trying to calm their worries and give them hope. Benjamin mounted his horse and offered to hold my medical supplies in his saddlebag.
The young drummer approached me timidly, his eyes wide with fear. "Miss Louisa Adams? Are you...coming with us?" He stammered, tapping his drum with his fingers.
"I am," I told him, rubbing the nose of Ben's horse, "What is your name? How old are you?"
     He glanced at Benjamin anxiously and I realized it was because he wasn't legally old enough to enlist in the first place.
"It's alright, son," Ben said with an understanding smile.
     "My name is William," the boy whispered, "and I'm fourteen years old. Please don't tell anyone; my family doesn't have enough money to feed my whole family back at home. I had to enlist, ma'am."
I put a hand on his arm and assured him I wouldn't say anything. He certainly wasn't the only one I knew of.
     "I'm quite terrified," he said to me, his voice quavering as Benjamin rode away to speak with the other officers in the dragoon, "Some say we will be walking into a massacre."
The drums began to sound, signaling the beginning of the march but I ignored it, taking William's hand in mine. "I know for a fact that the British are sorely unprepared and you are a part of the best regiment in the army. But, despite all of this, I am afraid as well. There is no denying the danger, do you agree? If anything happens to you, find me. Ask for someone to take you to me. Major Tallmadge will help you also and I will do everything in my power to make sure you survive this battle. Do you trust me?"
He nodded solemnly and blinked back tears, bowing before running up to join the other drummers at the front of the procession. My heart ached for him.
The march from our camp in Williamsburg to Yorktown was brisk and quiet, everyone wishing they were somewhere else but too prideful to admit their fear. The weather was cold and windy but not unbearable, which would certainly be an advantage in the nights to come.
We arrived after a few hours and began to set up camp just out of sight of the British forts. Almost immediately, work parties were organized to build bridges over the marshes and Washington began scouting and surveying, the very thing he had done since he was a young man.
I barely saw Benjamin at all that afternoon and evening because he was either meeting with his superiors, performing drills with his company, or hunting wild hogs with some of the other men. It was almost comical, the way they acted as if it was just a normal day of hunting and competition.
Late in the evening, a few men and even a woman approached me, introducing themselves as the people who would transport the wounded back to the "flying hospital" where they would be properly operated on beyond my abilities on the unsanitary battlefield.
My main job was to remove bullets and bandage wounds quickly, count the number of dead and wounded the best I could, and call for a stretcher or a wagon to bring a patient back to the hospital where they would receive more detailed medical attention. These people had an even more perilous task than I did.
     Washington called a meeting with many of the officers including Benjamin but, to my relief, I wasn't told to be there.
Instead, I laid down beside a group of sleeping soldiers sprawled out around a fire, using my small satchel as a pillow.
I had to seize the opportunity of rest while I still could because I knew that once the fighting began, it would be a long time before I could sleep again.
     I was wary of falling asleep in such a vulnerable place surrounded my men I didn't know, but my desperation for sleep quickly overcame my caution.