Over the last few weeks, I have been busy with the treatment of the men in winter quarters.  Great scores of snow have blanketed the land, preventing us from getting fresh meat and other provisions by hunting or by supply trains.  The air inside the fort has been very stuffy, which has also, I feel, attributed to the men’s fading constitutions.  We have lost 4 men to differing illnesses, and the numbers of those ailing grows by the day.  Scurvy, and cholera morbus seem to be some of the greatest of my challenges, however my greatest challenge seems to be keeping up with taking care of the daily upkeep.

I have been most fortunate to have the help of a woman from a nearby farm to keep dressings, medicines, and food about the infirm.  Her husband recently enlisted, and Natives had raided her farm, leaving little behind for her to subsist on.  So she has followed her husband here, and has been assisting me in the daily upkeep of running the small infirmary I am tasked with.  She has been a welcome addition, even though I feel as if I must keep a wary eye upon her.  I have heard from other Doctors at some of the out hospitals, and through my own experience at the hospital in Cumberland, that the Nurses there would provide liquors and spirits to the men against the advise of the surgeons or physicians,  as well as rifling through the effects of those men in the most dire of situations, or worse, dead, to either provide additional effects to their own husbands, or to sell them to make additional money.  They also seem unreliable in their daily duties, and many of the women given to the surgeons such a duty have also been known to despise the task.

The advantage to me at this time is that the woman who has been helping me has recently been tasked as the local Midwife to the farmers in this region.  She has some experience with the local herbs of the area, as well as an understanding of how to keep the men’s spirits and health in the best shape as we possibly can.  She has been a great assistant.

This is why today I have asked an audience with the Captain, to provide her a small stipend of 3 shillings daily for her services.  It seems only fair and proper, as she has spent many a night, sitting with some of the most ill men, and even myself, especially in the direst of situations.  She has also survived the Smallpox, so she may be of great import if an outbreak does occur here at the Fort.  I imagine that come spring, she will return to her Farm to attempt to subsist on that, however with her husband on the march, it is possible she may stay behind to make the small bit of money I can provide her.  The Captain has agreed to such a provision, on the condition that she keep to her duties, and be subject to Court Martial like any other member of the regiment, should she disobey my orders or be found in violation of any regulations.  The woman has been around the regiment and fort for several months now, so I doubt that she shall do so, however as stated previously, I have been keeping a wary eye upon her to ensure her obedience.

She is calling for me now to check on one of the patients, and so I must end this for now.  I will most definitely keep track of her progress, as I am to report to the Captain on such regularly.

It has grown quite cold here at the fort in recent days.  We had snow a few weeks ago, which aided the men in some hunting, but only provided me with more patients with varying illnesses.  My lancets have gotten great use- fifteen men this morning alone.  Yesterday I had to splint the drummer’s arm as he fell on it while splitting wood, and he’s resting comfortably.  The Captain hopes that he recovers soon, as do I.  I’m not sure that with the cold winter, and the lack of supplies, he would survive an amputation, and I don’t believe that would be the best for the morale of the men.

We returned to Fort Frederick for winter quarters in early November, which at first was a great benefit to us, as more supplies had arrived from Annapolis, and the quarters are more suited for keeping warm.  The stone walls are thick, and with multiple fireplaces it only has a chill late at night and early in the morning, provided that the men keep the doors barred.  In the late mornings and afternoons the Captain drills the men in the parade grounds, which I’ve observed  once or twice.  Its a truly fascinating scene, the madder red uniforms contrasting greatly against the blinding white of the snow, shadows of grey and black intermingling with those strong colors.

We had a brief service for the Christmas holiday. Afterwards we sat around telling ghost stories and singing songs late into the evening, and I found myself yearning for home for one of the first moments in a great while.  I am certain that my sister kept the season in her own way, but in remembering her favorite ghost stories of women in white, wandering halls, I was hoping to be in my meager living quarters, sharing that moment with her.

Reports circulate that the French are on the run, and that we could be home by summer.  I should like that above all things, however I will continue to serve where I am needed most, which seems to be here among the men of the Maryland Forces.

Cette terre est si primitive, et désole. Je me développe las du déplacement des milles sans fin, avec un manque d’approvisionnements et du nuage foncé de la mort au-dessus de nous. Nous continuons à perdre des hommes d’ici le jour de la maladie et de la malnutrition, et le moral semble être bas. Nous commençons la marche de nouveau à l’île de Presque, car le temps commence à se développer froid. I longtemps pour notre retour grand vers Paris, vraiment, et pour la fin de notre métier de cette terre horrible. J’ai peu de la manière du médicament, le jeu d’hommes loin et vole mon vin, et la tente maigre qu’ils me fournissent a commencé à couler. Les maladies dépassent les blessures par balle, et elle semble être une série de maladies plus intenses qu’arrière en France.

This land is so primitive, and desolate.  I am growing weary of traveling for endless miles, with a lack of supplies and the dark cloud of death over us.  We continue to lose men by the day from disease and malnourishment, and the morale seems to be low.  We are beginning the march back to Presque Isle, as the weather begins to grow cold.  I long for our grand return to Paris, truly, and for the end of our occupation of this horrid land.  I have little in the way of medication, the men gamble away and steal my wine, and the meager tent they provide me has begun to leak.  The sicknesses outnumber the bullet wounds, and it seems to be a variety of more intense illnesses than back in France.

Again we have been on the move, this time north to the small town of Carlisle, in the Pennsylvania wilderness.  Troops have been amassed here, for what purpose, I am not in a position to discuss, as no one has yet truly discussed it with me.  Clearly the French must be on the move again, however, I have not heard any full explanation as to our march here.

Upon arrival I was ordered off to the general hospital area, with a Doctor Bloodsworth, quite the knowledgeable gentleman from Virginia, near Williamsburg if memory serves me.  Together we have formed a formidable hospital, able to see all of the forces amassed without much delay or trouble.  Battallions from many different regions are arriving daily, and with them varying illnesses and melancholies, dropsies, and injuries that we have been tirelessly seeing to.  I dare say there’s been at least 2 nights I recall where we have been woken from sleep to ply our trade.

Doctor Bloodsworth has been most generous in providing me with some of the supplies I have been lacking, which are not easily obtained here on the frontier, which I am sure he will soon learn as well. Turpentine has been the most useful, but i do use it sparingly.  He has also provided me with additional Opium for which to make more laudanum, should the Men from Maryland be in the fray once again.

The most unfortunate case I have had thusfar while here has been one of the men who seems to have the symptoms of advanced consumption. While previously he had just been diagnosed with a persistent cough, he has started to spit blood more frequently.  He had been hiding it from his superior officers because of his sense of duty to King and Country, however, he ended up in my care when he passed out on the field during a troop assembly. I am most distressed to have to tell him that he will not be moving on with the troops, wherever we shall be on the march to next, but shall however be sent back to his home for treatment, which I hope for his sake will heal him and make him well enough again to fight.

Consumption is a horrible illness.  It begins with a simple cough, but then leads to blood in the spittle, trouble breathing, and if not treated appropriately, will lead to death, and a seemingly frightening death as well.  The body seems to waste away to nothingness, and the person can do naught but be attended to with comfrey tea and various poultices and balms, as well as bleeding in order to try to pull the humours back in order and restore the man’s spirits.  However, I am of a mind that perhaps there is more to this illness, as most of the individuals I have seen with this malady never seem to recover, and eventually perish as the illness assuages them.  A most distressing illness, if I dare say.  It truly makes you wonder what is on that person’s soul, that would keep that illness assaulting them.  Few things I’ve seen but a scar on the soul as well as the imbalance of humours seems to kill as harshly.

With all of the various battalions and regiments here, there has been the common practice of an Officer’s Mess for meals, and I have been so honored as of late to be allowed to dine with these Gentlemen.  At the fort, there is little ceremony to be stood upon, so it is nice for a few moments to have some Civility about, especially with such men of distinction.  Saturday night I had the great honor to dine with Mr. Washington, Commander of the Regiment of Virginia, as well as our fine Captain, and other Commanders, Sargents, etc.  The food was exceptional compared to our meager meals at Cumberland, and the wine was strong and full of flavor.  It was a much welcomed change, but even  as we enjoyed each other’s company, the somber cloud of why we are all brought together still hangs over the candles and dining table.  Many late night discussions have been had about if we are winning or losing this great war, as well as the general questions we all seem to ask ourselves in our quite moments.  What is Parliament saying about this engagement, when will more supplies and troops arrive, and what will our next move be?  There are already rumblings that we will be sent home for the winter, and I am curious as to the validity of those rumblings.  It would be nice to return to the shop for the winter months to assist Charlotte, as well as to make sure the books are in proper order and perhaps take on a partner and subsequently an apprentice.  However, that would then make me wonder if I should return to the Fort when spring begins to come, and I’ve no doubt that Charlotte would make protestations to that effect, strictly for her fear of my death.

The candle grows dim, and I must yet check on the Consumption patient once more tonight before retiring fully to my  slumbers.