Peregrine Page 7
This brought the expected chuckles. The Florida governor was known for his lavish parties and those prisoners of suitable class, who’d given their parole, were usually invited. Once the toast was completed Lord Anthony took the general aside and explained Bart’s condition and his concern that he needed immediate attention.
“We’ll take him to my home immediately upon anchoring,” Manning offered. “A friend of yours who I’m told is a very capable surgeon is waiting to greet you there.”
Hearing this Gabe turned to Dagan and gave a slight nod.
“I told you so,” Dagan mouthed.
Thank God, Gabe thought.
Chapter Ten
The locals had gathered at the waterfront, not sure of what was taking place. As the pilot boat led the three ships from the bay and into the James River, word had quickly spread that British warships were approaching under a flag of truce. Rumour was rampant throughout the crowd.
“Maybe they changed sides,” said one old man with tobacco stained gray whiskers.
“Naw,” his companion answered. “More likely we done whipped ’em and they’s surrendering.”
British warships had not been seen in the James River since Lord Dunmore had bombarded the city in his retreat. It was said that most of the waterfront and hundreds of homes were burned. It was later found that the British had destroyed only nineteen houses while Rebels destroyed over eight hundred homes that belonged to the loyalists.
When the ships finally came to their anchorage, the captain’s gig was readied for Bart to be transferred to General Manning’s house. A bosun’s chair was rigged to lower the ailing man into the waiting boat. At first Bart objected, but waves of pain cut off his refusal.
Turning to Lord Anthony, General Manning spoke. “My aide will escort you to my home.” Glancing at the crowded waterfront the general continued, “When I boarded the pilot boat, my carriage was waiting on the dock. Hopefully, it’s still there.”
“Thank you,” Lord Anthony replied, as he again shook hands with the general, and then made his way to the entry port.
As he started down the battens, Anthony heard Manning talking to Captain Cade. “Make sure everything that the surgeon or the admiral needs is provided.”
The aide’s response was not heard but Cade gave a smart salute and hurried after the admiral.
“Are you going?” Gabe asked Dagan. Gabe could see the man was torn between duty and giving a helping hand.
“Go ahead,” Sir Victor said, overhearing the conversation. “I’ll not need you for what I have in mind until tomorrow at the earliest.” Dagan rushed to the entry port to catch the gig before it pulled away.
Speaking to Gabe, Sir Victor commented, “Do you think he even thought that he’d just breached naval protocol by getting into the gig after the admiral?”
Smiling, Gabe answered, “The general’s aide already blew protocol to hell. Dagan’s last minute departure won’t make any difference.”
“Aye, and I would imagine his Lordship is more concerned with Bart than who gets in or out of a boat in a certain order.”
Before Gabe could answer, the general approached Sir Victor, “We’ve set up temporary accommodations in a couple of warehouses and at St. Paul’s church. I’m sure some will be anxious to be returning to their homes but, with your permission, we will gather them together and explain the processing procedures.”
This had already been done while at Saint Augustine but Sir Victor didn’t feel going over it again would hurt.
* * *
The trip to General Manning’s house took longer than normal as people rushed to gawk at the British admiral. Once they arrived, greetings were cut short once Bart’s condition was realized.
“So, you have a bellyache?” Caleb asked Bart, trying to not sound concerned.
“Aye,” Bart replied. “One that has gone on for days; having a wet helped for a while but now it doesn’t help at all. The surgeon gave me a purgative which only made it worse.”
“Where did it start?” Caleb asked.
“Here,” Bart said pointing to his belly button, “but now it’s over here.” This time Bart pointed to the right lower aspect of his abdomen. “At first I thought it was just sore from where I got stuck with a blade.” Caleb could see the still pinkish scar, and Bart continued, “But now it’s way over here.”
Caleb tried to help Bart relax as he examined him. When he placed his hand on Bart’s abdomen it felt very hot and was extremely tender. Bart cried out in pain when he gently pushed down then suddenly released the abdomen.
“I’m sorry, Bart,” Caleb said, and then had one of Manning’s servants apply a cool cloth on Bart’s forehead. Once out of hearing, Caleb spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper, “Bart has a colic caused by inflammation and infection of the vermiform appendix.”
“What’s that?” Anthony asked.
“It’s a small, finger-size attachment at the right lower quadrant of the large intestine. If it ruptures, and I’m surprised it hasn’t already, Bart will die from putrefaction of the viscera.”
Anthony turned pale and suddenly felt faint at hearing this. “What…what can be done?” he stammered.
“At this stage, the only thing to do is cut into the gut and amputate the affected organ.”
“Then do it,” Anthony said.
“It’s not that easy. I’ve closed the gut on men with wounds to the bowel or the stomach. Most of them died later either from shock or infection. The problem, as I see it, is shock or exsanguinations. You hold a man down to cut off a leg or arm then give him an anodyne for pain. You can’t do that for a malady of the gut.”
“What do we do? We can’t let Bart die,” Anthony said, desperation in his voice. He then looked at Caleb. “Have you done such an operation?”
“I have.”
“Then think of something. You’re a doctor.”
“I have read the Chinese have performed such surgeries by having the patient smoke opium before they operate. I don’t know how well it worked; however, it’s a moot point as we don’t have any in Norfolk that I know about.”
Kawliga, an Indian who had been with Dagan’s Uncle Andre for many years, was standing to one side listening. Hearing the word opium caused him to respond, “Mr. Andre say smoking hemp leaves much like smoking opium. Make man crazy sometime but always make man sleep.”
Caleb was suddenly excited. “You may have something there, Kawliga.” Turning back to Anthony, Caleb continued, “A lot of people in the Tidewater grow hemp. Some will take the superior seeds and grow plants where they harvest the leaves and use it in place of tobacco or alcohol.”
“How do we get it?” Anthony asked.
Captain Cade, who had been standing by, said, “I know a man who grows it for such purposes. How much do we need?”
“A leather pouch full,” Caleb replied, noticing one lying on a table.
Cade took the pouch and left. “I will be back as soon as I can.”
“While he’s gone,” Caleb said to those gathered around, “let’s boil some water, tear up some cloth for bandages, and get a bottle of brandy to soak my instruments in.”
“Do you have enough?” Anthony asked.
“I think so but we don’t have time to go get more. Now let’s clean off the kitchen table and place a clean sheet on it. Let’s bring in a couple more lanterns. I’m going to need help.” Looking at Kitty, Caleb asked, “You feel up to it?”
The girl had helped Caleb often in the past year; she had proven to be a good nurse. Caleb wished for the day she would not only be his nurse but also his wife.
“I can help,” Dagan volunteered.
“No,” Caleb said. “You take care of his Lordship.”
“Aye,” Dagan replied. He knew things would turn out now that Caleb was involved but was also glad he wasn’t needed for the surgery.
Cade was back within the hour. The leather pouch was stuffed full of dried hemp leaves. “Mr. Keith says these are his best leaves
,” he said, handing the pouch to Caleb. “He said if you use a long stem pipe it cuts down on the bite somewhat.”
Caleb didn’t care about the bite; he only hoped the leaf would work. “Bart.”
“Aye.”
“I’m going to give you a pipe of hemp leaves to smoke. This should help you sleep so that I can operate on your belly and take out your appendix.”
“Does yew have to?” Bart asked.
“If I don’t, Bart, you’re likely to die.”
“Yew has to then. Don’t let ’is Lordship fret.”
“Don’t worry. Now, when you smoke the pipe take deep breaths, inhale deeply. When you start to feel lightheaded, I will give you a dose of laudanum to help with any pain. I can’t give you much as I don’t want to make you nauseated.”
Trying to be brave, Bart said, “Well, light up the pipe and let’s be done with it.”
Kawliga had taken a white long stem clay pipe off the fireplace mantle. He crushed up the leaves in the palm of his hand, and then filled the pipe. He lit the pipe and held the stem over to Bart who inhaled deeply.
After a few minutes, the grimace of pain left Bart’s face and he smiled. Looking at Lord Anthony, he said, “You need to try this. It’s better ’n a wet.”
“Maybe I will,” Anthony replied.
After five minutes Caleb began to worry the concoction wasn’t going to work. Bart had finished the bowl and while droopy-eyed, he didn’t appear to be sedate.
“Pipe has small bowl,” Kawliga said and repacked the bowl after knocking out the ashes. While Kawliga was relighting the fresh bowl of leaves, Caleb decided to go ahead and give Bart the laudanum. Bart had to be held up to drink the liquid. He was again given the pipe.
“Breathe deeply, Bart,” Caleb said.
He did, and then had to be told to do so again. After the third round of instruction Bart didn’t respond.
“Let’s move quickly,” Caleb ordered. “Let’s tie his chest, hands, and legs down just to be on the safe side.”
This was done quickly. Caleb’s instruments had been soaking in a pan filled with General Manning’s brandy. Bart’s clothes had been removed so that, when the sheet was pulled down, his white abdomen was exposed. Caleb took one of the cloth bandages and dipped it in the brandy and wiped the skin down.
“Does that help?” Cade asked.
“I don’t know,” Caleb said. “My professor put a worm in a glass of brandy once and it died. He felt many such things not seen by the eye existed on the skin and therefore a good cleaning hurt nothing. He used brandy in such a way as I have and he washed his hands with it before every surgery. Records were kept and he had far fewer patients to die from infections than those who didn’t. Well, it is now or never,” Caleb said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.
He then took a scalpel and made an incision about four inches along the right lower quadrant of Bart’s abdomen. Kitty expertly wiped at the blood. After another minute or so, Caleb gained the abdominal cavity. He took a two-prong retractor and applied it to the abdominal wall, then gave the handle to Kitty. “Keep traction on this if you please.”
By retracting the incision Caleb was able to see and place his hand in the wound and visualize the swollen and angry appearing organ. “It’s not ruptured,” Caleb volunteered with a sigh of relief. “Captain Cade, if you will be so kind as to heat the tip of this scalpel in the candle flame, taking care to keep the soot off of it, I will be obliged.”
While Cade was heating the blade, Caleb took a ligature made from waxed shoemaker’s thread and tied it around the base of the appendix using a surgeon’s knot. After cutting the excess off, he then tied another ligature closer to the intestine. Caleb then took the heated scalpel and excised the appendix, cutting between the ligatures. The smell of burning flesh temporarily filled the room. Using the hot tip of the scalpel, Caleb cauterized some of the bleeders in the incision site but a few had to be tied off with ligatures. Caleb was almost finished closing his incision when Bart began to moan and pull on the ropes.
“You may release his hands,” Caleb instructed, “but keep the rope on his chest and legs for now.”
When Caleb turned, Lord Anthony was standing in the doorway. “It’s finished?”
“It is.”
“Will he live?”
“The organ had not yet ruptured so the cavity had not been filled with infection. Therefore, I believe he will, but I’ve never done this before on a live person so we can only pray.”
“What do you mean, on a live person?” York asked.
“The procedures I’d done in the past were practiced on cadavers.”
“Damme!” Lord Anthony exclaimed and took the offered glass of wine, downing it in one gulp.
Chapter Eleven
When General Manning and Sir Victor arrived at the general’s house, Bart was resting. Lord Anthony and Dagan’s Uncle Andre were smoking their pipes and discussing how to appraise a good horse by certain features. Anthony listened intently and did not notice the general and Sir Victor’s entrance. Caleb and Kitty were playing cards with Dagan and Betsy while Jubal and Kawliga were walking the streets of Norfolk, taking in the bustling port city.
Betsy had returned home after visiting a friend and found her house had been turned into a hospital. She was watching the man being moved to a bedroom when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She knew without turning the hand belonged to only one person…Dagan. Now as she sat across the table from him, little thought was given to the fact that not two hours ago the table was being used to operate on a man. Her mind was on how could the two of them get away for a while when she saw the door open.
“How is our sick friend doing?” Manning asked as he entered.
“He’s asleep,” Caleb volunteered. “It’s the best thing for him at this point.”
“Good,” Manning replied. He then looked at Anthony. “You’ve been made comfortable I hope.”
“Of course, General, your aide has been most helpful and accommodating.”
“Well,” Manning said drawing out the word. “I see you’ve met the best horse thief…I mean the best horse trader in all of Virginia.”
It was obvious Manning and Andre were friends.
“Ah…” Andre replied, lifting his hands in surrender. “If you only knew, Admiral. Some expect to pay no more for the finest horses in America than what you’d pay for a mule. To even be near one of my magnificent animals is an experience in itself. Still, some would haggle when you’d think their station in life would preclude such behaviour.”
Shaking his head Manning defended himself. “It’s only by haggling that I’m able to maintain my station.”
“That’s enough you two.” This from Betsy.
“I know when to send up a white flag,” Manning replied, giving a bow of surrender. “Speaking of white flags, Lord Anthony, your brother and Sir Victor have informed me of the rogue who so cowardly fired on your ship. I assure you I have no knowledge of who would engage in such an act.”
“I’d never believe you did,” Anthony replied as graciously as he could. “I believe I’m a good enough judge of character to know when a man is not what he makes himself out to be; and, General, I believe you to be an honourable man.”
“Thank you for that, Admiral, and while our countries are at war, I hope we will be best of friends when this calamity is over.”
Standing to the side Sir Victor thought to himself, Damned if I don’t believe him.
* * *
The following day the process of exchanging prisoners began. The exchange began with those well known to be who they stated themselves to be. These were the ones whose identities were not in doubt by either side…the elite group of civilians and high-ranking officers. There was much pomp and fuss made over these individuals, which included fond farewells from their captors.
Next in line were the officers of lesser rank, a major for a major and so on. It was on the third day of exchange that a navy officer was presented.
Gabe had been assigned the duty of interviewing naval officers. He shook Mahan’s hand and asked how he came to be taken. After a thorough report, Gabe asked about his first officer, warrant officers, and members of the crew.
“I know Lieutenant Wesley is waiting to be processed, sir, but as far as the others, I’m not sure. I do have a list,” Mahan added, taking a paper from his pocket.
The paper was old and stained. He’d probably made the list soon after he was captured.
Calling to Sir Victor’s man, Chiswick, Gabe handed him the list. “See how many of these names match those on our list.”
Once Chiswick had departed, Gabe turned back to Mahan. “You know when you lose one of his Majesty’s ships you have to face a court martial.”
“Aye.”
“Were you allowed to keep any records?”
“No sir. Only those I wrote after we surrendered.”
“Well, official records would have been better but I don’t think you will have any problems,” Gabe said, trying to reassure the man. “Lord Anthony will likely be the convening authority and he is a fair man.”
“Thank you,” Mahan replied.
Gabe then called a petty officer over. “Please have Captain Mahan taken out to Peregrine.”
“For the record, sir,” Gabe again addressed Mahan, “you realize you are, in effect, under arrest.”
“I understand, sir, and thank you for presenting me as captain.”
“No thanks necessary.” Then turning his attention to the petty officer, Gabe added, “My compliments and ask Lieutenant Lavery if he would be kind enough to offer the hospitality of the wardroom to our guest.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the petty officer replied and with Mahan in tow, he rowed out to the ship.
Several more prisoners were brought forward before Lieutenant Wesley was brought forth. After a short conversation, Gabe had him taken out to Pegasus. Jep will find out if all is as it’s made out to be, Gabe thought. He didn’t doubt either man’s story but by putting them on separate ships he could not be accused of letting the two conspire. Not that they’d not already had time to do so while being held captive.