Open Wound: The Tragic Obsession of Dr. William Beaumont

by Jason Karlawish

  “Nearly twenty. We were at the camp in Plattsburgh.”

  “Along the Saranac River. I can see it all as if I just returned. And you were at the Battle of Plattsburgh, at Fort Moreau?”

  Beaumont nodded.

  Lovell sat and motioned for Beaumont to do the same. The lines of his long thin face had deepened into permanent creases, and the point of his chin seemed lengthened. His fine-curled hair had thinned and was graying at the temples; his thin lips were dry and near colorless.

  “My years at a desk and the Washington summers have not been kind to my constitution. These last few months I've suffered from bilious colic. But I still have my wits.” Lovell tapped his right temple. “I still meet veterans of that war. And look what's become of some of those men. General Scott. Colonel Taylor. And now you, Surgeon William Beaumont.”

  Beaumont smiled. “I'm just a humble surgeon.”

  Lovell chuckled.

  “I always knew, William Beaumont, that you would make me proud. A man with your ambition and fortitude is destined to succeed in America. This country is designed for men such as you. I was just re-reviewing your quarterly reports from Prairie du Chien. It's splendid work you did on the frontier. You've no idea the motley quality of the reports I receive from the frontier. But it's Alexis who has my interest. Is he here?”

  “Yes.” Beaumont nodded to the door. “He's just outside. Shall I?”

  “Not as yet, but I do very much want to see this gastric fistula. I trust you don't mind that I've made inquiries among friends and colleagues here and about. There's certain interest in the progress of your experiments. Some of the more learned congressmen are interested. Edward Everett of Massachusetts, have you heard of him? No? You shall, the man is a genius and a statesman. Brilliant orator. A future president, truly. I've known him since we were students at Harvard. He tutored me, or rather tried to tutor me, in Latin. But enough, I'm so pleased you're here. I have every expectation that your experiments will be of substantial value. I can hazard no better locale than here at the seat of our nation's power to unlock the secrets of the power of digestion.”

  Beaumont was grinning like a schoolboy.

  “I expect I'll have a few weeks here before we depart for Paris. I've not inquired about our passage to France.”

  Lovell scanned his desktop as if searching for something. “Yes, that journey. Bear with me, but some things have happened since we last corresponded. I would have written you, but so much has been in flux, and I knew you were traveling here with all haste. It was not easy to secure your leave, as you know, given the continued hostilities along the frontier. Congress is not generous with funds. Your leave was reversed once, and on several occasions since then I have had to personally intervene to keep the special order granting it intact. The corps is spread thin.”

  Beaumont began to feel lightheaded. He remembered the younger and fitter Lovell, just two years after he'd graduated from Harvard's medical college, sitting at his desk at the hospital in Plattsburgh, patiently explaining to Beaumont that he had no doubts about Beaumont's skills as either a physician or a surgeon, but that to secure an appointment as a surgeon, the army required proof of training at a medical school.

  Dr. Beaumont, Lovell had told him, I must counsel you to be patient. I see in you the flash of genius and the fire of ambition and a large natural talent. I can have you commissioned as a surgeon's mate, and in time, your promotion to surgeon will surely follow.

  The Lovell who now sat before him reached for a paper. The long thin bones of his hands were visible under the thin skin.

  “I think I have arranged for everything that you shall need to prosecute your experiments, housing and such and assure you there shall not be one iota of duty put upon you during this furlough. Mr. Pence, our librarian, is most eager to assist. He's a most capable man. If the ships were faster and the winter seas more temperate, I am sure you could make it to Paris, but I don't believe that six months will be sufficient time for you to journey to Paris and back.”

  “Six months?”

  Lovell coughed as he set the paper down.

  “I'm afraid that's all I've been able to secure for you. I can't manage one year. I'm sorry, William, I know this disappoints you, but this is the army. I assure you that you shall have all the resources you require here to guarantee the success of your work. If you'd like to remain in Washington, I've secured handsomely furnished quarters for you. Of course, I entirely understand if you wish to return to your family in Plattsburgh.”

  Without Lovell Beaumont knew he might be selling tonics from the back of a painted wagon. Without Lovell he might still be in Prairie du Chien, caught up in the ceaseless chaos of Indian wars.

  “This is adequate, perhaps even more than adequate. Even during the journey south, I've managed substantial progress with my notes and reading. At Prairie du Chien, entire months passed without my having the time for experiments. The thought of having entire months, even just six, available for my experiments leaves me near giddy. I'm eager to begin work, and as soon as possible. Here in Washington.”

  Lovell smiled.

  “Giddy perhaps, but I'm sure you'll remain standing. Excellent then. You have your rooms, the library is at your disposal, and I assure you your social calendar shall fast be crowded. You do have calling cards?”

  “I do.” Beaumont patted the pocket wherein he kept the wallet of newly printed cards.

  “Excellent.”

  “I do have one request.”

  “Speak, please.”

  “As you know, I have sustained the care of Alexis at my own expense for several years now, since I first came to his aid really, in 1822 on Mackinac Island. After some months there, the leaders deemed him a common pauper and determined he was a drain upon their charity, limited as it was, and ordered him cast away in a bateau to fend for himself when the wound had not yet properly healed. I took the lad in to my home, and he was with us for some two years. In Prairie du Chien, I had charge not only of him but also of his wife and children. Food, clothing, bandages and now our travel here, his lodging and boarding. All these charges have come directly out of my own pocketbook. Several hundreds of dollars.”

  Beaumont paused and composed his request.

  “It has occurred to me that were Alexis in the army, it would allow me to have him at the garrison here and elsewhere, secure some modest income for him over and above the generous income I provide him as part of our covenant, and cover his room and board.”

  “You wish Alexis to have a rank in the army?”

  “Exactly. Perhaps in the commissary. Such light duties would make use of his skills as a common household servant.”

  Lovell regarded Beaumont. He drummed his fingers upon the desk. “Sergeant Alexis St. Martin. I might be capable of arranging that. How old is he?”

  “Late twenties, I should think, more or less. Why do you ask?”

  “In all this time, I've never known. Curious. Nonetheless, Lieutenant Cooper has charge of the commissary, and he's a decent fellow, though the lot he has charge of are an odd crew, veterans of the war some of them. I even recognize one from the hospital in Plattsburgh; fellow took a blow to the head that had him out for a day and a night. Left him a simpleton. Alexis must be as able-bodied as any of them. I think I can manage him a commission in the commissary.”

  “That would do just fine for Alexis. May I show you the wound now?”

  “Yes, straightaway.”

  “He's not eaten since breakfast, so I'd expect that cavity empty. Hence I can demonstrate how I distill the gastric liquor with a simple gum elastic tube. Sometimes it flows quite freely, but not as well other times. I think not only appetite but also atmospheric conditions may influence the process.”

  THEIR QUARTERS WERE three rooms previously occupied by a recently deceased senior surgeon and his servant. Lovell's intervention had procured the space for Beaumont.

  There was a sitting room with a mantled fireplace and space enough to accommodat
e a large table, bookshelves and several chairs. The view was the raked-gravel courtyard. The walls were decorated with two lithographs. The Apotheosis of Liberty and Prosperity, 4 July 1814 showed allegorical figures of Liberty and Prosperity gazing down upon Colonel Scott and his staff in the aftermath of their victory against the British at Fort Erie. American Vista was a landscape. In the near distance stood a pair of Indians, each holding the bridle to his horse, as they gazed upon a herd of buffalo crossing the rolling plains below them. Attached to this sitting room were two bedrooms. The larger had a simple washbasin, dresser with mirror, wardrobe and a featherbed mattress on an iron frame. The other was narrow, with a sleeping pallet and washstand.

  “These are adequate, more than adequate,” Beaumont announced.

  It was late in the afternoon when Beaumont and Alexis finished at Lovell's examination room. Beaumont and Lovell had passed two hours inspecting the wound, gathering gastric juice and sampling Alexis's meal of cold roast pork, bread and butter. Beaumont still carried in his vest pocket the warm vial of Alexis's gastric juice.

  “Alexis, set my trunk of books there beside the shelf. I'll set up the sand bath and vials and other equipment here on the table which I'll also use for a desk. Let's move one of the chairs into your room so I can inspect the wound at bedside. I'll talk with Dr. Lovell about securing a small table for your meals and some kind of nightstand where I can keep equipment.”

  “Ce que tu veux,” Alexis muttered. “Why settle so much if we are only to travel again soon?”

  “Alexis, please don't speak French.”

  “Paris?” he said dully. “Ceci ce n'est pas Paris, non?”

  “There's been a change of plans. Unpack those books, and I'll explain. Just place them on the shelves, and I'll see to their order later. Mind their spines, some are delicate.”

  Alexis unbuckled the straps of the trunk and began to slowly unload its contents as Beaumont explained their new plans.

  “But you said Paris?”

  “Circumstances have changed. We must learn to live with them. I'd reckon this is a jot better than Prairie du Chien.”

  Alexis bent down to take up more books. Beaumont continued speaking.

  “We're to stay here for several months. I'd expect until spring. In the meantime, I shall make inquiries about travel to Paris after the winter. I remain as anxious as you do to get there, but for now, we're here. It's a military matter that's out of our control. Besides, Alexis, I have some good news for you.”

  Alexis paused his labor and gazed expectantly at Beaumont.

  “I've managed to secure you some additional income, over and above what you shall receive as part of our agreement. Twelve dollars a month salary and two dollars fifty for clothing and ten cents a day for subsistence. Do you like that?”

  Alexis's fingers and lips were set in calculating motions.

  “It's more than one hundred dollars a year, Alexis. One hundred forty-four, to be precise, not counting the food and clothing allowances. What say you?”

  “When do I get it?”

  “You'll have to talk with the paymaster in the commissary. Dr. Lovell thought it best you have the rank of a sergeant in the detachment of orderlies under Lieutenant Cooper. I agree with him. It's a sensible plan considering your status as a civilian among the military. The work is no more substantial than what you have done for me, as you shall be assigned as my orderly. When you finish with those books, you can unpack my clothes and settle yourself in your room. Then, you're to report to the commissary. It's just across the courtyard, the large brick building on the western side. The kitchens are there. I'm going to take care of some business, and tonight I shall dine with Dr. Lovell and his wife. Tomorrow, we start our work.”

  Beaumont inspected his watch, then he made to return it to the small pocket of his trousers, but then he stopped.

  “One more thing, Alexis. Here.”

  He held out the watch on the palm of his hand.

  “It's for you.”

  Alexis hefted it and slid it into the deep pocket of his trousers.

  “Clip the chain to your belt loop. That way you won't lose it. Now that you have a timepiece, and I've another for myself, we won't have any troubles with missing observations. If you should retire before I return tonight, I'll see you first thing in the morning. Seven sharp. Don't forget, time is money.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  NOW CAME DAYS OF EXPERIMENTS. Daily, before sunrise, Beaumont knocked on Alexis's door, leaned into the darkened room and announced “It's time.” Then he stepped outdoors to record the temperature, the wind and precipitation. When he returned, Alexis lay waiting on his pallet, a small candle burning on the table, his chamber pot brimming, the tails of his shirt rolled up to expose the orifice. The croaking sound of hunger passed through the hole.

  Beaumont set his lantern and supplies on the tabletop, sat on his stool and began the inspection of the gastric coats, both with and without his magnifying glass. Next, he measured the temperature in the cavity, removed the thermometer, wiped it clean with a soft flannel square expressly for this purpose and returned it to the felt-lined case. The he took up his gum elastic tube. Beaumont had only to hold out his hand and Alexis moved into position.

  The tube inserted, he distilled the gastric juice, drop by clear drop, into a glass vial, each time Alexis complaining of the sinking feeling and darkening vision. This done, Alexis lay back as Beaumont corked the vial and stepped out to his worktable to set it beside others, some resting in one of his sand baths, the paper label of each vial bearing the number of its corresponding experiment. As Beaumont recorded his morning observations, Alexis washed, then dressed in his sergeant's uniform. Within an hour he returned with their breakfast and coal ration.

  Hourly, Beaumont sampled and chronicled the contents and pace of digestion of every meal, sometimes on the quarter hour. Roast mutton, breast of mutton, bread, butter, potatoes, cold roast pork, beef boiled and broiled, raw radishes, boiled chicken, wheat bread, hard-boiled eggs, pints of coffee. Some meals he simply let Alexis eat, while others he took samples, weighing out two to four drachms of a portion of that day's meal and wrapping it in a muslin bag suspended into the hole. Still other samples he placed into the vials in the sand bath.

  Within a week, it was evident Alexis was drinking, some nights into a shuffle-footed, wall-scraping intoxication. Beaumont neither said a word nor acted to intervene. Every morning and at all hours until after dinner, the man submitted to examinations and observations without protest, and the effect of ardent spirits on the cavity and the process of digestion yielded excellent results. It was the kind of data Beaumont needed to educate the public on the hazards of spirituous liquors, the necessity of Temperance.

  Between observations, he worked at his desk like an explorer deep in a valley described by mountains of books he gathered from Mr. Pence's library. He read Magendie and Abernathy. Philip's treatise on indigestion. The chapters on digestion in Dunglison's textbook. He copied out passages and made a table whose columns and rows fast multiplied with theories, and with this table he could reckon how some theories converged but then others diverged.

  His synoptic table showed these scientists to be like the fanatical preachers of New York State, splintering each other's dogma with the ax of a new theory, then gathering and chopping the facts to fit a new theory. Each seemed equally correct, and each seemed equally deficient. Reaumur retrieved his gastric juice from sponges he forced buzzards to swallow. Young studied frogs and his own vomit. Spencer used dogs. What none of them possessed was the plain and unvarnished truth, unfettered by the heirlooms of theory and the crude observation of lesser animals. None of them had Alexis and his endless supply of gastric liquor.

  In time, their rooms became a factory of discovery, and Alexis was fully transformed. Beaumont came to see only the experiments at hand. Alexis's thin body became like a patent machine centered at the puckered hole. The variations in experiments were as numerous as every act, every m
otion, every mood and meal his Frenchman experienced. He placed masticated portions of food into a vial of gastric juice and into another of pure water and still a third vial with unmasticated food into saliva he ordered Alexis to spit up. Then he ordered Alexis to cradle these vials in his armpits as he performed his chores or took his customary walk from their barrack to the dockyard and back. Beaumont allayed Alexis's sense of hunger and stopped the croaking noises caused by the motion of air in the stomach and intestines by putting directly through the aperture three and a half drachms of lean boiled beef. The next day he introduced eight ounces of lukewarm beef and barley soup through a tube, with a syringe.

  Scientific efficiency governed their every action. Some days, they exchanged only a few words. Nothing was wasted. All was recorded. Days of Alexis's sullen laziness afforded observations of the effects of total lassitude upon the pace of digestion, while his anxious restlessness demonstrated the effects of vigorous exercise and appetite. Beaumont charted the course of moods: anger over a delayed meal, anger over the insertion of the muslin bag through the tender margin of the hole and into the cavity. Costiveness slowed the pace of digestion and was relieved by calomel applied directly into the aperture. He recorded days when Alexis's tongue was dry and furred with a thin, yellowish coat, his dark eyes heavy and countenance sallow. The membrane of the protruded portions of the stomach was a mirror image of the tongue.