“Yes, sir, several times.” She knew the elderly doctor wanted her to comfort and distract the patient and to hand him instruments. At least, she thought, it wasn’t a more serious injury or an amputation, both of which she had assisted with in the past when a nurse wasn’t available. At those times, she had felt queasy and nervous, but she had helped birth animals and tend their workers’ injuries back home. Some “ladies” had been unable to watch the removal of fingers, toes, or limbs, but she had forced herself to do whatever was necessary to help out when needed.
“Sorry, son, but we’re low on chloroform and ether, so I can’t give you anything to put you to sleep unless your wound’s worse than I imagine. Have courage and hold still, boy, and this will be over soon. I won’t tell you it isn’t going to hurt, but jerking will make it worse for both of us.”
Laura saw the bleeding man nod and grit his teeth in preparation of the ordeal. He tried to relax, but his body remained stiff and tense. She smiled and said, “You’ll be fine soon; you have a good doctor.”
When the man only nodded again and fastened his gaze to her face, she tried to keep her expression pleasant and her gaze encouraging.
The surgeon attempted to locate the bullet with his finger instead of a probe, which was less painful and destructive to tissues and less likely to snag arteries and nerves. “I feel it. Not too deep. Hand me those forceps.”
Laura passed the Moses forceps to him, then grasped the soldier’s hands. “Just look at me and tell me about your family.”
Between grimaces and grunts and clenched teeth, the man complied.
“Hold real still, boy,” the doctor coaxed as the long, thin instrument was inserted into the ragged hole that was seeping red liquid. “I found it. Just let me get a grip on it. Got it. Not much longer, son.”
Laura glanced at the doctor as he withdrew the forceps that held a piece of mettle. She released the patient’s sweaty hands, scrubbed hers in a nearby basin, and laced silk thread through a curved needle.
The wounded man squirmed, stiffened, and winced as the physician poured silver nitrate over the injury as a styptic to halt the bleeding so he could see to suture it.
After she handed the needle set-up to the surgeon, Laura took the soldier’s hands once more. She tried not to grimace as the soldier gripped her hands so tightly they hurt, knowing his agony was far worse than her own temporary discomfort. She was relieved the sewing went fast, and the man’s grasp weakened when the stitches were done. Within ten minutes, his leg was treated to prevent infection and bound with a clean bandage, perhaps one she had helped rolled on another day.
“Listen to me, son,” the surgeon said, leaning close to the man’s pale face. “Our medical supplies are low, so I’m not going to give you anything to ease your suffering unless the pain becomes too much to bear. If you can endure it, we can save our medicine for boys in worse condition than yours.”
She watched the soldier glance at her, then look at the surgeon. It was her impression he wanted to plead for even a small dose of opium, morphine, or laudanum, but he didn’t want to appear selfish and a coward. She concluded it took every ounce of courage and willpower he possessed to agree with the doctor’s request. She longed for the war to end so men wouldn’t have to suffer like this, lose limbs and eyes, sacrifice their lives. It made her angry that men could inflict such cruelty on other men, and sometimes, on women and children by accident or intention. Working in different hospitals and witnessing such horrors only served to instill a greater desire in her to do whatever was necessary to help end the war.
After two black workers carried the soldier to a nearby ward to recover and Laura was cleaning up after their task, the surgeon scowled and cursed, “Damn those Yanks! First, they wound our boys; then, they keep us from getting medicines to treat them with! Pray that secret shipment gets through this week, Miss Laura, or we’ll be out of everything and sheer agony will rule every hospital and new patient in Richmond.”
Laura stole furtive glances at him as he lifted and checked glass vials, tins, bottles, flasks, and jars of various sizes—each almost depleted of the medicines they had once held. He checked the number of rolls of bleached muslin and wads of lint, and shook his gray head in dismay. She surmised by the way he kept talking as if more to himself than to her that he was greatly fatigued and distracted. She listened without interrupting him.
“If we don’t get ether and chloroform, we can’t put these boys under to operate. We need opium, morphine, laudanum; or some of them are going to be screaming in agony. We need medicines to prevent and treat infections and gangrene, and styptics to stop bleeding. Our stock of spirits of turpentine, bromine, potassium permanganate, and silver nitrate are about gone. If that surgical silk and suture needles don’t come fast, we’ll be raiding ladies’ sewing boxes. Those labs at Macon and Lincolnton have to come through for us before Sherman and Grant cut our rail lines.”
As the man stared at his bloody coat as if in an exhausted daze, she heard him reveal something she hadn’t known.
“One of our privateers ran the blockade near Wilmington yesterday after he took a Union ship loaded with supplies from the Medical Purveying Depot in Astoria and the USA Laboratory in Philadelphia. The ship was heading for Grant’s stronghold, but that Yank won’t get his hands on it now. It’s supposed to be railed to us this week. God help us and the boys being sent to us if Yanks seize it before it reaches Richmond.”
Laura knew she would never report the news of a medical shipment, as there were certain lines she could not and must not cross in her work. In fact, she prayed the supplies would arrive without delay. Until they did so, she told the surgeon she had small quantities of iodine, paragoric, alum, “matico” tincture, laudanum, quinine, and a sweet gum remedy at home which she would have her employee Alvus Long deliver to him later today. “It’s not much, but it might help a little until you’re resupplied. I only wish I could do more to help these brave men.”
He smiled. “What you do is plenty, more than a lot of folks, Miss Laura, but I’ll be grateful for any medicines you can share with us.”
“I’ll also send over more dried fruit and any food I can spare.”
He patted her shoulder. “God will bless you, Miss Laura.”
“We’ll both have to pray hard, sir. Now, I should get back to helping the others before I have to leave. I’ll tell Alvus to bring the package to you if you’re still here later. To me, you look as if you could use rest and sleep.”
“I’ll be here. Not much else for me to do. I lost my wife last year to a fever, and God didn’t see it in His way to bless us with children. Since I’m too old to go a’soldiering and have no sons to serve our great Cause, the least I can do is give our boys another chance to fight or get on with their lives as best they can with what health they got left.”
Laura sat on her bed to read the evening newspaper and to relax after her busy and troubling day, glad she didn’t have to meet with Ben tonight. It had been an eventful week: on Sunday, Hood had replaced a vexed Johnston in Atlanta. On Monday, the first election was held in Arizona, where her uncle was stationed and where many Indian fights were occurring. That same day, the Union/Confederacy peace talks had failed. On Tuesday, she and Lily had watched the troops from Monroe Park leave for Petersburg. On Wednesday, more skirmishes had taken place in the Shenandoah Valley between Early’s and Sheridan’s forces.
War, she fretted. These days everything was centered around it; and everyone’s life, controlled by it. She tossed the papers to the floor, straightened the mosquito netting, and settled herself to seek slumber. Despite her tension and worries, exhausted, sleep soon conquered them.
* * *
On Friday, it seemed that everyone was talking about the “Battle of Atlanta,” which was raging in Georgia. Rebel General Hardee and Federal General McPherson’s forces were skirmishing fiercely between Decatur and Atlanta, and Hood was boldly challenging Sherman. During those conflicts, Rebel General Walker and Union
General McPherson were slain, as if it were an even swap by fate. The Confederates were holding Atlanta, but encircling Union forces were pressing onward with determination. That grim news overshadowed the battles taking place in Arkansas, Tennessee, Missouri, Mississippi, Louisiana, and even in northwestern Virginia.
A regular visitor named James Webber checked into the hotel that evening, and divulged crucial news to Lily later: news that Laura felt she had to get to General Grant immediately.
Even so, Lily managed to convince her not to make that attempt until Saturday since it would be hazardous to cross opposing military lines at night…
Chapter Seven
“Are you certain you want to go with me, Lily? This mission could be the most dangerous one we’ve undertaken so far.”
“This is the only way it will work, Laura, and safeguard you. Belle and Cleo will take care of everything here while we’re gone. By leaving early, we’ll be back before we’re needed tonight.”
“If we don’t get stopped or detained.”
“Why should we when our disguises and story are so clever?”
“I know, Lily, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“Where is all that Adams’ courage and confidence today?”
Laura shrugged and confessed, “Sorely lagging, my friend, because I can’t imagine what’s looming ahead for us.”
“Success, Laura. What else could it be with our current streak of good luck? The timing couldn’t be more perfect. We only have one guest, and he’s out for the day; local patrons won’t be coming over until six and seven o’clock, and we’ll be home by then. If an unexpected guest arrives, Belle or Cleo will take good care of him.”
“I hope you’re right. Do you think they suspect anything?”
“Of course not; they think we’re going shopping and doing charity work. You’ve already sent Alvus on an errand so he won’t see us leave. And Bertha is off for a few hours to tend her sick friend.”
“I suppose you’re right; we have taken every precaution possible. Everything is ready. I’ll sneak out and meet you on Fourth Street.”
Without delay, their bold plan was put in motion.
Lily, clad in a plain and faded dress and old shoes and with her pale-blond hair mussed to look barely combed, picked up Laura minutes later, and they were off on their dangerous journey.
Laura hoped no one recognized her as she was more well known in town than Lily was. Her hair was ashed to make it appear gray and mostly covered with a sun bonnet to help shield her face. She wore faded and patched clothing with long sleeves, net gloves to conceal youthful hands, smudges on her face to hide a lack of wrinkles and radiant complexion, and wire-rimmed spectacles to obscure her clear green eyes. She had brought a cane to use later, had practiced a slow and bent-over walk, and worked on a low and trembly voice. A shawl was thrown over her shoulders to help mask the padding under her dress giving her a fake hump on her upper back. One arm was around Lily’s waist to aid her balance, since she was riding to the rear of their twosome; her other hand held a small basket filled with biscuits, dried fruit, and several raw fish which were wrapped in old newspapers. The message she was trying to deliver was stuffed inside the fish on the bottom of the pile.
Laura had intended to conceal the coded paper inside a doll’s head, but a regular patron had delivered the fish moments after Bertha Barton had left, giving her the idea to use them for smuggling the information across enemy lines. To make her horse appear old and injured and unworthy of confiscation for the cavalry’s use, she had caked thick salve on fake sores on his body, wrapped one foreleg with a dirty bandage, dusted his sleek hide to dull its healthy sheen, and blackened his white teeth with charcoal.
Laura realized they were taking a huge risk of being exposed and captured, but that couldn’t be helped, as the information could not be held until next Thursday and passed to Ben. Yet, she almost wished James had not divulged it to Lily so this urgent trip wouldn’t be necessary.
They rode down Main Street to New Market Road, south of town. Few people took notice of their passing and, those who did dismissed them from mind with haste, assuming them to be poor whites or pathetic victims of the war.
They traveled southeast down New Market Road, over rolling hills, past uncultivated fields that were overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, between dense treelines, across streams and creeks, beyond hollows and gullies and bluffs, and headed toward the marshy lowlands near Deep Bottom Run which was thirteen miles from the Capitol.
Shortly after they stopped to conceal a bundle, they were halted at the five-mile defense line by two guards, who questioned their presence there.
Lily, playing an uneducated country girl, said, “We lives a short ways down the road. I had to takes Grannie to town to see the doctor ‘cause she wuz ailin’ somethin’ fierce. He gave her some medesin and she’s a’nappin’, so I’d be obliged ifn you don’t wakes her up.” She lowered her voice even more as if to whisper to one guard, “Her health’s been porely of late, and her mind’s about gone. She lost it when Pa wuz kilt by them mean Yankees. Now, ever’ time she sees a uneeform, she gits a little crazy.”
The soldier glanced at the old woman whose head was rest ing on the younger woman’s back, her face almost concealed by an old bonnet, gray hair partially showing from beneath it. He eyed the horse, then shook his head. “Pass on, but be careful. Yankee spies may be working this area.”
“Thank ye, sir, and God bless the Confederacy.”
A short distance down the road, Lily said, “That scared me silly. I was afraid he was going to ask us to dismount and search us.”
Laura had detected her trembling during the incident, but said, “You did fine; you fooled them completely. You would make a fine stage actor.”
Lily laughed and quipped, “I get practice duping people all the time.”
As they intercepted the wide line where Grant and the Union forces had swept eastward of Richmond while making their way toward Petersburg, they saw neglected farms, dilapidated homes, collapsed sheds, broken fences, and cannon-mangled trees.
They neared the hot and humid bottom land where bogs, quagmires, snakes, reeds, cattails, moss, spongy terrain, mosquitos, and other unhealthy and treacherous things thrived—obstacles to the advancing Union Army. In the far distance, there was a large loop in the James River, across which was a pontoon bridge, one built and used by the Yankees to reach and capture City Point where Grant was headquartered.
Laura dismounted and told Lily to hide herself and the horse behind a dense cover of trees and bushes. She gave her an excuse to use if she was found. With caution, Laura picked her way through soft and damp terrain, avoiding perilous bogs. It wasn’t long before she was halted by three soldiers in blue uniforms.
“What are you doing in here, old woman?” the leader asked.
“I have a message you must get to General Grant at City Point, fast.”
“What are you talking about, old woman?”
As Laura withdrew a paper from the fish, she explained, “I gather information for General Grant in Richmond. Just pass him this message and he’ll understand. Take it to him fast; it’s important.” She watched the man glance at the damp and smelly page, then look at her as if she were daft.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“No, sir, and you’ll be sorry if you don’t do as I ask. I would go with you, but I must get back to Richmond before I’m missed. I’m warning you, sir, I meet with my regular contact on Thursday so if you fail in your duty, I’ll know and I’ll make certain General Grant knows. In fact, that message is so crucial that he’ll probably reward you for bringing it to him. Don’t bother trying to read it because it’s in code, but General Grant’s aide can decipher it. I’m sorry about the odor, but I had to conceal it where it wouldn’t be found by Rebel guards along the road.”
“Why don’t you come with us and deliver it yourself?”
“That would risk exposing my identity. I must get
home fast. Tell General Grant it’s information that couldn’t wait until next week. You must trust me, sir; a great many lives depend upon that message.”
“Whom shall I say sent it to him, ma’am?”
“It’s signed, so he’ll know. Get moving; time is imperative.”
Laura hurried back to where Lily awaited her. “Any trouble?”
“None. How about with you?”
“None. Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything later. Now that we know where those guards are positioned, we’ll skirt them through the woods.”
They returned to where they had hidden their bundle and concealed themselves to remove their disguises. Before grooming herself, Laura took the fake bandage from her horse’s leg, cleaned the patches of salve from his body, and curried him in a rush. Laura used soap, a cloth, and water from a canteen to scrub the smudges from her face. Lily pulled a clean dress over her hips, then combed her hair. Laura brushed the graying ash from her flaxen mane before she donned her other dress to prevent soiling it.
“I think it’s best if we hide these disguises here. If we’re stopped and searched, it wouldn’t be wise to be caught with them and have someone remember the two females wearing them earlier. I’ll keep the glasses because I can’t replace them.” Laura rolled the spectacles inside the cloth used for her back hump and placed them in a saddle pouch. While Lily hid the clothes, she discarded the fish and straightened the other items in the basket, saying to her friend, “Let’s go deliver these to a hospital and get home so we can relax.”
Laura and Lily sank to the sofa and simultaneously sighed in relief to be home safe and sound. They exchanged looks, smiled, and then laughed.
“We made it. Is it always that scary when you go out?” Lily asked.
“Sometimes it’s worse, so hope you don’t have to do it again.”
“Do you suppose it was a Confederate agent who learned about Grant’s plans and revealed them to General Lee?”
Defiant Hearts Page 13