15

Ministering Angels

Continental Army Headquarters

Morristown, New Jersey

February 1780

The next morning, an arctic chill blew in as Eliza led her sisters up the front walk of the old Ford mansion, appropriated for General Washington’s headquarters. The stately white house sat on an estate owned by a local judge who had died. While the general had use of the master’s quarters, Colonel Hamilton and the other officers slept in the smaller upstairs bedrooms, sometimes two to a bed, and worked in a log office annex by day.

Would he be there this morning? Remain cool headed, Eliza reminded herself. The thought of seeing Colonel Hamilton again confused and excited her, but she hadn’t had time to think it all through before her aunt bundled her and her sisters out the door, their heads swimming with directions for the treatment.

As the sisters stepped inside the mansion, a cloud of warm air rolled out with the heady scent of tobacco smoke. Down the hallway they overheard the boisterous voices of men unrestrained by the presence of women. Eliza walked to the doorway, which opened into what had once been the judge’s study, and knocked on the doorjamb.

“Good morning,” she said. “Dr. John Cochran sent us—”

Her voice faded as she made out the room’s occupants, a pair of young men hovering awkwardly over a disheveled desk. Loose papers and an inkwell had been pushed in a jumble to one side. The men sprang up guiltily, and it was only as they were straightening their vests and jackets that Eliza realized they had been arm wrestling.

“That’s funny, Larpent,” the fellow beside the desk said. He was a pale blond youth of no more than nineteen. “Usually it is the man who saves the damsel from distress, but in this case it is you who have been rescued by the arrival of this fair young lady.”

The other fellow behind the desk was as fresh faced as his companion but thin and soft. A redness of his cheeks revealed that he had been on the losing side of their struggle.

“Good morning, miss!” The one called Larpent ignored his friend’s jibe. “How may we help you today?”

Eliza smiled officiously as she walked in the room. “My name is Eliza Schuyler, and these are my sisters, Angelica and Peggy. Dr. John Cochran requested that we administer the smallpox inoculation to the men working in this office today, in compliance with General Washington’s orders.”

Larpent frowned. “The Schuyler sisters? I had been told that Mrs. Cochran assisted Dr. Cochran in administering the inoculation, Misses, ah . . .”

“Schuyler,” Eliza said. “As in General Philip Schuyler?”

The name did the trick for the heavier fellow.

“Of course, Miss Schuyler, Miss Schuyler, and Miss Schuyler. I’m Corporal Weston. Please give me a moment to collect the men. Where would you ladies like to perform the procedure?”

“Over there by the fireplace,” Eliza said with immediate confidence. “The room is sufficiently warm that the men won’t be chilled when they remove their jackets, and there are extra chairs, which I shall need.”

Peggy held the supplies basket while Angelica looked around with an unimpressed air.

“May I?” Angelica sat herself down on the nearest chair. Peggy followed suit and moved to unload the supplies in the basket.

“Stop, Sister! Germs! Germs!” Eliza blanched. “First clear the table for our equipment. Nothing must touch the floor.”

Angelica was taken aback by her middle sister’s bold new confidence in this strange arena. Clearly in the brief time she had been away from Albany, she had taken on some impressive new strength, but then Eliza had always been the quickest study of the three of them. Angelica turned to Peggy, who was staring openmouthed at Eliza.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Peggy? You heard Sister. Put the basket on a chair and help me clear this table for her. She’s got important work to do!”

Corporal Weston glanced nervously at the basket and gave it a wide berth as he headed for the door. Eliza thought him a bit dim. His companion looked equally skittish and made to follow his friend, but Eliza stopped him.

“Larpent, isn’t it?” Eliza spoke briskly. “The building is not so large that it will take two of you to gather everyone, Mr. Larpent, so why don’t we start with you? Peggy, fetch me a pitcher of water from the kitchen.”

Larpent glanced desperately at Weston, but his friend was making a grand show out of leading Peggy to the kitchen, despite the fact that she had just walked through it.

“Of course, Miss Schuyler,” Larpent said in a resigned voice. “What should I do?”

“You need do nothing but remove your jacket, roll up your left sleeve, and have a seat here.”

Larpent took off his jacket, unbuttoned the lace flounce from his cuff, and began to roll up the sleeve.

“Is there any reason why it’s the left arm?”

“The procedure will cause a slight rash that can make writing a bit uncomfortable.”

“And suppose I am left-handed? Oh, well, it’s a pity. Perhaps I’ll come back another day.” Larpent jumped up in relief.

Eliza grabbed his sleeve. “Please relax, Mr. Larpent. The treatment is just as effective on the right arm as the left.”

Larpent sat down. “It doesn’t matter,” he said dejectedly. “I’m not actually left-handed.”

“Mr. Larpent!” Eliza said with a laugh. “Are you nervous about the procedure? I assure, there’s nothing to worry about. I have had it myself, along with my entire family, including my seven-year-old brother, and both of my sisters.”

“A remarkably courageous act for such a young boy,” said Angelica. “Of course, he was holding on to Mama’s petticoats at the time.” She delivered Larpent a tight smile packed full of derision.

Peggy returned from the kitchen, sloshing water from a full pitcher.

Eliza began to prepare the paste, measuring conservatively. Though there were only a dozen or so treatments to administer and more than enough medicine, she didn’t’ want to waste any of it. She could feel the young soldier’s nervous eyes on her as she mixed the powder and water. At length he cleared his throat. “I-I’ve heard that the treatment doesn’t work for everyone.”

“If it doesn’t work, we’ll administer it again.”

“But how do you know if it doesn’t work?”

“As I said before, if it takes, there will be a rash, as if you had been exposed to itch ivy.”

“Will it itch like itch ivy? I had that once when I was a boy and my mother had to sew socks on my hands to keep me from scratching myself to bloody pieces.”

“I assure you, Mr. Larpent, the pox itches far, far worse.”

“It’s Lieutenant Larpent, actually.”

“Of course,” Eliza said. “I apologize. So young to be an officer!”

Larpent shrugged. “It doesn’t mean much in a new army. They hand out ranks like apples in October around here. There are even colonels my age—Colonel Hamilton for one—but he earned it the hard way, didn’t he, fighting at Brandywine Creek one year, and the next alongside Washington himself at the Battle of Monmouth.”

Thrilled to hear Colonel Hamilton’s name come up so naturally in the conversation, Eliza wished he would say more. But Larpent had moved on from the subject and was complaining about the lack of rations.

“Buck up, Lieutenant Larpent,” said Eliza. “Surely the blockade will be over soon. I’m just happy to be able to do my small part for the cause. Now, if you will extend your arm, please.”

Larpent gave her his left arm as though she were going to chop off the hand. Eliza grasped it firmly by the forearm and reached for the rake. “This may sting a bit,” she said, and before he could react she dragged the rake across his wrist. Larpent groaned.

“Lieutenant!” Eliza chided. “It is just a scratch!”

“It’s not the cut that bothers me,” Larpent said. “It’s just—I’ve heard some people get sick from the treatment.”

“There will be a rash, as I said, and a light fever—”

“I’ve heard some people die,” Larpent cut her off.

“Lieutenant, would it put your mind at ease to know I have just this week given an inoculation to your colonel Hamilton? And not for a moment did he doubt its worth or question its aftereffects. He merely said that if the inoculation was good enough for his general, and good enough for his general’s men, then it was certainly good enough for him. General Washington would be proud of the example of this brave man. Do you not agree, sir, that we are all fighting the same battle?”

Larpent dropped his chin to his chest. “If you say so, miss, but Colonel Hamilton is awful brave. If there was ever anyone among the officers I admire more than the colonel, it could only be the general.”

“Brave, is he?” said Angelica, exchanging a look with Peggy. “Pray, tell us more about this brave young colonel.”

“I heard all about it from the boys, ma’am. Yes, indeed! It was at Monmouth—the day Colonel Hamilton had his horse shot out from under him. With redcoats swarming over the hill, he was charged head-on by a pistol-wielding cavalryman. So what did he do? He stood his ground. He cut the man down with his sword, swung himself into the empty saddle, and galloped away. At least that’s the way it was handed down to me . . .”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Ah, so the legend begins!”

But Eliza was thrilled to hear it, even as she noticed Peggy looked a little green around the gills.

“Please, Sister, take a seat before you faint. Lieutenant Larpent, I’m afraid our Peggy is not used to such fantastic stories. Why don’t we get on with the less disturbing task of the inoculation treatment, shall we?”

Eliza was aware of the mortality statistics surrounding the smallpox inoculation and knew there was some truth to what the frightened young fellow was saying. For every hundred inoculations, one or two people did in fact develop full-blown smallpox, sometimes fatally. But given that the fatality rate among uninoculated individuals was thirty times higher, she understood that it was a more than acceptable risk. Still, she was too honorable to lie to the worried young man.

“Be of good cheer, soldier. You are far, far more likely to die of the pox without this treatment than with it. For that matter, you are more likely to die on the battlefield than from this treatment. Now then—” She laid the poultice over the scratches and wrapped it in place. “It’s in God’s hands now.”

Larpent blanched.

“I’m teasing you, Lieutenant,” she said as she knotted the wrapping in place. “Everything will be fine. You’ll be arm wrestling again in no time.”