Of Wildflowers and Gunpowder

Chapter 25

"Come on, Bennyboy, wake up!"
I jolted awake to find Caleb Brewster on his horse, riding straight into the tent. I sat up from Benjamin's bed, terribly startled, and pulled the quilt up around me.
"Caleb," I breathed, breathing a sigh of relief when I recognized him and putting my hand to the bridge of my nose in exasperation. "What are you doing?" He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head as if to look past me.
"Is Tallmadge in that bed?" I scoffed and raised my hands innocently, showing him that I was alone.
     "You scared me out of my wits, you know," I replied, "coming in on a horse. What do you want?"
He dismounted and seated himself in the chair at Ben's desk, looking at me mischievously. "Well now that you ask, I suppose I'd like to hear the story of how you ended up here, m'lady. And also where the Major went." I rolled my eyes and examined the outfit laid out for me at the foot of the bed; I assumed one of Washington's servants had delivered it overnight.
     "He's been at the front since last night; I just spent the night here to rest from my injury. Obviously you weren't here to see me," I said with a smirk as I put on the layers of my dress over my linen chemise, "so what is so desperately important that Benjamin needs to know?"
     Caleb absentmindedly twirled my medical scissors around his finger and answered, "It's nothing; I'll tell him later. And there's more Tory deserters, did you know? People say there's talk of surrender behind Cornwallis' lines. Goodness sakes, Louisa! Your shoulder is bleeding through those bandages!"
I shook my head dismissively. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore, don't worry about me. Worry about what Ben will do to you if this horse does anything on his rug."
     He laughed loudly and stood to mess up my hair, swaying on his tiptoes above me. "You an' him are gonna be quite the pair when this is all over. I've appointed myself in charge of your wedding, in case you haven't heard."
     I playfully socked him in the arm and put on my straw bergère with pink flowers, pinning it to my carelessly twisted blonde hair with my good hand.
"You'd be better at it than I'll be," I said, "I've grown up in this camp and I don't know how I'll conduct life as a sensible housewife after all this." He chuckled.
     "I know you, Louisa, you won't let anyone make a housewife out of you. Especially old Bennyboy. Come on, I suppose you have many places you need to be today and I wouldn't want to keep you from them."
     He backed the horse out of the tent and kissed my hand before trotting away, giving me a smug grin. Shouldering my medical bag, I trudged towards the infirmary as the cold wind whistled all around me.
     The sun was barely above the trees and the sky was covered with grey clouds, casting a dark, muted glow over everything. The sounds of cannon fire and muskets in the distance made me shudder and I breathed a silent prayer for Benjamin's safety.
     Inside the main tent, Anne ran up to embrace me, looking awestruck at the cuts on my face and the bandage on my shoulder.
     "Don't worry," I said before she could express her concern, "I promise I'm alright. Now tell me what needs to be done."
     "Your double amputee is in the next tent over," she replied gently, "Doctor Shippen has practically left him to die—says he's a lost cause and you never should have tried to keep him alive on the battlefield. I've done everything I can for him."
     Incredulous, I exclaimed eagerly, "He's still alive?" She nodded, laughing as I urgently picked up my petticoats and raced out of the tent, rushing to the man's bedside next door.
The young man looked surprised to see me and croaked, "You're the one who saved me in the trench, aren't you?" I nodded, pulling down the thin blankets to reveal his bandaged left thigh and what was remaining of his arm. His eyes were tear-stained and he was covered in sweat.
The wounds were gruesome and the man's face was gaunt with the loss of blood and lack of nourishment. To my dismay, the bandages were the same ones I had hastily put on days before, believing that Doctor Shippen would have had enough sense to change them at least once.
"Well sir," I said, "we have quite a job ahead of us- making you healthy again- but I am sure it can be accomplished. I am Louisa Adams, by the way, and I feel the only way we can become properly acquainted through this entire situation is if I know your name."
"My name is Frederick Lewis, Ma'am. Do whatever you must do in order for me to see my wife and little boy again."
My breath caught in my throat at the name of my father. The thought of saving this soldier in the way I never had the chance all those years ago with my father made me smile.
     As I unwrapped the dressing and cut the temporary stitches, the man said, "I thought I had no chance at surviving out there. Nobody else seemed to think so either. But then you," he let out a pained chuckle, "appear with that awful blade and tell the other men to cover my eyes. At the moment, I wanted to die, Miss Adams. But you saved my life and I don't know how I'll ever thank you."
"Well, Mister Frederick, you can thank me by healing yourself up quickly," I replied, concentrating hard as I worked on his leg, "I also sincerely apologize for Doctor Shippen's neglect while I've been gone; he and I don't agree on many things."
He chuckled tightly, the pain on his face evident. "I know...he told me. But don't worry, the African girl kept me in good company."
     "Aye," I replied, "Anne is one of my good friends."
Frederick wiped sweat from his face and took a labored breath. Confused at how he could be so hot in the freezing weather, I put a hand to his forehead, pulling away with a gasp when I felt the fever.
     Silently, I fumbled around in my bag for a vile of herbal medicine and offered it to him, hiding the label with my hand so I didn't worry him. "I have a fever. Don't I, Miss?" He said softly, gulping down the serum.
I nodded and pursed my lips. The trauma of losing two limbs had begun to take it's toll on his body and I feared that it would only become worse from here.
"It's alright though," I lied, wrapping clean bandages around the wounds, "I'm sure it is quite normal. You are the first surviving double amputee of this war, Mister Lewis, so I must admit this is all new to me as well. But you'll be fine."
I stood from the bedside and handed him a wrapped ration of potatoes, saying, "I'll be back in a little while to check on you and give you more medicine; in the meantime, you must rest...and send for me if you need anything."
He thanked me profusely as I walked back outside and I sighed deeply, desperate to believe I hadn't given him false hope.
The rest of the day, I made my way through each of the eleven tents, redressing wounds, feeding hungry soldiers and holding hands of the dying men. Every time Doctor Shippen and I crossed paths, he offered me a harsh word or scolded me for something.
A few hours later, I came upon William, the young drummer, lying wide awake in one of the cots, absentmindedly rolling the quilt in his hands.
"Louisa!" he exclaimed when I approached, moving over to let me sit beside him.
"How are you, dear child? I'm so glad to see you here!" I lifted his bloodstained shirt to reveal the bandage on his stomach.
     "It hurts terribly, I must admit, but I am getting better. Your shoulder...is it okay?" he asked, putting a hand to my cloak and pushing it away so he could see the wound.
I smiled, saying, "I'm doing quite alright, thanks to you. Now tell me William, you previously said you lived in Litchfield?"
     He grimaced when I pressed a vinegar-soaked rag to the wound but nodded slightly.
     "That is quite a coincidence," I said softly, "because Major Tallmadge and I may come to live there once we are married. You could be my neighbor someday soon!"
     His eyes widened and a look of disbelief came over his exhausted face.
     "Oh, Miss Louisa! I would like that very much! You could meet my brothers and sisters and my parents and even my cow...if you'd like," he cried, taking a gasp of air as I cut the sloppy stitches I had made in the redoubt the day before.
     "I cannot wait, William. Did you know Major Tallmadge's brother had a cow when he was your age too? Of course, Benjamin was in college then, so he never had to clean up after it." William laughed.
     "Now let us see what a terrible mess I made of your wound in my half-delirious state, shall we?"    
     After I had restitched the gash and bandaged it tightly, I sat with him and listened for a little longer. He told me his fear of making a coward of himself, surrounded by all these strong, brave men who never seemed to be afraid of anything.
     "William," I told him, "you are one of the most courageous men in this army. Nobody here is as brave as they make themselves out to be, I promise you. And Major Tallmadge? If he were here, he would laugh at the idea of being fearless. There is no such thing as a fearless soldier. There are strong, selfless ones—and you are one of them—and there are selfish ones—Benedict Arnold is the quintessential example of that. But everyone here is afraid; don't ever feel unworthy because you are scared."
     He grinned and embraced me, whispering thanks into my ear. Suddenly, a militiaman raced into the tent, out of breath and holding a letter in his hand.
     "Ma'am, this is from General Washington. He asks that you read it immediately." When he was gone, I glanced up to find the entire infirmary looking at me; each patient with a look of intrigue on his tired face.
   I broke the seal and read the letter silently to myself, my heart beating as I realized what it meant.