Wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters were searching among the wounded for relatives and friends. Finding a loved one, they did what they could, stroking the forehead, holding the hands, whispering courage, hoping to heal the hurting.
Scamp could not move, staring at the clamorous sight that brought back such monstrous memories of the slave ship his parents had died on. He began to tremble.
Still outside, Millie climbed down from the wagon and joined the women helping Catherine lift René onto a stretcher.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Catherine just nodded. Then she turned to the young girl and said, “Millie, thank you for getting me, and for volunteering for such a risky job. Suzanne was right—you are indeed amazing.” Then, clutching her medicine bag, she followed those carrying René’s stretcher into the convent.
Catherine was surprised to see her young servant boy in the hallway. His body was shaking, his teeth chattering; the hospital’s commotion obviously terrified him. She stopped, laid her hand on his head, and said softly, “Scamp?”
“It’s . . . it’s . . . like when I came across the ocean . . . on the ship—everyone sick, everyone dying: Mama, Daddy . . .” Big tears descended down his face.
Catherine placed her hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Scamp; this must be awful for you. But please try not to think of that now; René and I both need your help.”
He looked up at her, still teary-eyed. She dried his face tenderly with her shawl. “There, now. We’ll get through this together. Come with me!” She took his hand and followed the ladies who had gently placed René on a pallet along the side of the hallway.
Catherine said, “See, Scamp? It’s our René. You and I will be taking care of him, so try to ignore everything else. Just concentrate on making him comfortable. You can do that, right?”
Scamp nodded his head slowly and knelt down to look at René. The boy glanced at Catherine, who gave him a reassuring smile. Taking the man’s hand and stroking it, he said softly, “Bonsoir, Monsieur Bonet. It’s me, Scamp. I’m going to help make you feel better.”
Tarot: THE NINE OF WANDS
Revelation: Becoming prepared to meet the challenge.
Andrew Jackson’s aides were gathering in his temporary headquarters, reporting that the American casualties, including those missing, totaled slightly over two hundred. They could only assume that the English had incurred considerably more.
“Dreadful—can’t continue those numbers. We shall renew the battle tomorrow morning!” he said, with renewed vigor. “The men are all veterans now and will be eager to fight.”
“Sir, that might not be wise,” said Captain Jugeant. “The Choctaw scouts have reported that fresh troops are reinforcing the British camp.”
“My men are reporting the same,” added General John Coffee.
“Hmm,” pondered Jackson, looking at the map. “All right, then. We will slowly withdraw toward the city. If it becomes evident that the English have committed the entire army to advance on the city along the river, we will find the best position to set up our defenses. Gentlemen, set up your picket posts and have the rest of your men try to get some sleep without the warmth of fires. Also, tell them that their general could not be prouder of their conduct in this night’s battle. They have engaged the best soldiers in the world and forced them to withdraw.”
The staff nodded at that, and some even smiled.
Jackson continued, “Your volunteers have demonstrated professional discipline and heroic courage. They have purchased with their blood great honor for New Orleans, as well as these United States. They can take comfort in the knowledge that the Redcoats will not find it easy to sleep with one eye open.”
The general paused, looked at each staff member, and slowly nodded his head. Then, placing his hands on his hips, he said, “Gentlemen, please see to your men.”
Tarot: THE FOUR OF CUPS
Revelation: Contemplation; a feeling of dissatisfaction.
December 24, 1814
While Scamp napped by her side, Catherine continued ministering to René’s wound. The young man’s eyes suddenly opened yet did not focus. His head twitched; his body shivered. He was trying to say something. “Thirrrst.”
“Here, René. Try to swallow some of this.”
In order to lesson his pain, she gave him a drink from a tumbler containing opium mixed in some wine. She held the cup as he struggled for breath. He sipped some, gagged, and then took a bigger gulp. She was grateful that he fell asleep almost immediately, and she was able to apply dry, soft lint compresses to the still-bleeding laceration.
One of the Ursuline nuns stopped by. Noticing Catherine’s medicine bag, she said, “Hello, I am Sister Angelique. I am working in the room next door. I see you are a healer. You are taking a special interest in this one?”
“Yes, he is my daughter’s husband,” replied Catherine.
“Mon Dieu. I am so sorry. How is he doing?” asked the nun.
“I’m afraid he may not make it,” said Catherine. “His abdomen was stabbed with a bayonet, then twisted like a knife. Who knows where that weapon has been before! It may have been used to roast meat or dig a British latrine. I’m very concerned about contamination.”
“Of course. I suspect we will lose more patients to infection than to the actual wounds.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do, besides wait. My treatment is simple: keep him clean, warm, and comfortable.”
“Do let me know if you need anything. In the meantime, I will pray for you both.”
Tarot: THE SEVEN OF PENTACLES
Revelation: A difficult work decision must be made.
Jackson set up his new headquarters in the two-story Macarty plantation house. Located about one hundred yards north of the Rodriguez Canal, it was the site for his first line of defense. Ascending to the second floor, he was presented with a panoramic view of the Mississippi and the flat countryside. While he checked on the British movements through his telescope, his staff updated him on his soldiers’ activities.
Edward Livingston announced, “Nine hundred slaves are joining the troops to help in raising the embankment. It’s difficult labor; the ground is soggy, so posts have to be driven down to firmer soil. With no rocks, we have only mud to work with.”
“We’ll have to make it work,” said Jackson. “In addition, be sure that every male in this region under age fifty comes forward and joins us here on the battlefield. After all, we’re protecting their homes!”
“That presents a problem, sir: we are sorely in need of weapons.”
“Then we must ask the good people of New Orleans to again search every room in their homes for muskets, rifles, swords, and pistols. Whatever they can find . . . Now, I want the work on the rampart to proceed night and day. The men can work in shifts. When it’s their turn to rest, they need to do it on-site.”
“Speaking of nonstop undertakings,” Jean Lafitte said, “the Carolina has been joined by the Louisiana. They are continuing their intermittent bombardment of the British camp.”
“Excellent! That will keep the British in place for a while.”
Lafitte continued, “Also, we need to make sure that the English don’t outflank the north end of our rampart by wading through the swamp. We should either post a substantial force in the knee-deep water or extend the rampart west, parallel to the swamp.”
“Good idea, although I don’t think the Redcoats like to get their knees wet,” said Jackson. “However, concerning the rampart and Lafitte’s suggestion: General Coffee, do what you can to extend the north end of the rampart into the swamp. I will see about some artillery for support. Once the strengthening of the rampart is done, we must have the slaves and men without weapons begin work on a second line.”
Captain Jugeant spoke up. “General, my scouts have seen many Creeks and Cherokees in the English camp.”
“Captain, instruct your Choctaws to make these other warriors their prime targets in t
heir nightly probes of the English lines. General Coffee, same for your men. We’ll teach all tribes which side they should join.”
Looking down at his notes, Jackson continued, “I want a huge flag flying high near the center of the rampart; it will help motivate our men.”
He looked back up and directed his gaze at each member of his staff, one by one. “Last night we gave the Redcoats reason to pause and lick their wounds. But they are not about to turn and run—at least not yet. Although our army fought like professionals, we must remember that we have encountered only the enemy’s advance guard.”
The officers nodded in agreement.
“Once their entire army is assembled, more than one thousand professional soldiers will outnumber us. The rampart must be built strong and high enough to make up for our shortage in manpower, experience, and equipment.”
The general checked his notes once again and continued, “There’s much to be done. Let’s go, gentlemen.” He winced as he limped to the door. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height, and resoluteness set in as he looked back to add, “We will make certain that the Redcoats do not enjoy their visit to Louisiana!”
Tarot: THE KING OF WANDS
Revelation: Encountering new and impassioned ideas.
Catherine opened her eyes slowly, after about four hours of rest. She had fallen asleep shortly after Sister Angelique had left. The classrooms and hallway were filled with more men on mattresses, some of them softly crying, others snoring. She noticed one man quietly fingering a rosary.
So many different men: planters, lawyers, bankers, laborers, artisans, seamen. White, brown, black, and red brought together for battle, now fighting individually for their lives.
Catherine got to her knees and bent over her patient. René’s breathing was shallow, but he did not seem to be in pain. Scamp was still sound asleep. Catherine turned to gently nudge him.
“Scamp, you must awaken now. We have a lot to do.”
The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked around at all the wounded who had joined them during the night, and then turned to Catherine with a questioning look.
“First,” she said, “go find Sister Angelique. Ask her where you can get a clean bowl filled with water that has been boiled. Also inquire about borrowing a broom to sweep up the bloody straw.”
By now, Scamp was fully awake. “And we’ll probably need fresh straw, too, right?”
Catherine smiled. “You’re a smart lad, Scamp. I’m grateful you’re with me.”
After Scamp ran off on his errands, Catherine looked down at René and found that he was awake. He smiled weakly.
Scamp returned with the bowl of water and a broom. “Sister Angelique says hello, and she would like some advice when you have a minute,” he announced.
“Thank you, Scamp. You can start sweeping now.” Catherine gently cleaned René’s wound, noticing that his abdominal region still felt stiff to her touch. He winced as she applied a fresh dressing.
“Catherine . . .”
“There, now, René,” she said, “let me get you some more medicine so that you won’t be in pain.” She tried to sound encouraging and soothing at the same time.
“Catherine.”
“Shh, now, René. You’ve been hurt. You need to save your energy.”
“Catherine,” he repeated once again, sounding urgent, “I know it’s bad, that I have not long to live. But I want you to promise me something. Please. Will you do that?”
Catherine looked into René’s eyes. He knew he was dying. His breathing was shallow but labored, and talking was strenuous, but he was unflinching in his determination to extract this pledge.
“Of course, René. What is it?”
With difficulty, the dying man propped himself up on his elbows and met her gaze head-on. “It’s about our baby. Our son.”
Catherine nodded. She had sensed that Suzanne was bearing a boy.
“I want you to swear that you will do all you can to assure that my son is a free man.”
“But certainly, René; as Suzanne’s son, he will be a free man of color,” she responded.
“But he is my son also, and I want him to be like me, an undiminished citizen of the United States.” René’s voice grew stronger. “I want my son to be able to vote, sit on juries, run for public office if he wants to, even run for president. I want him to be able to associate with whomever he chooses.”
René took another gulp of air. “He cannot do that as a free man of color. That is why we were going to move north, so that our son would be genuinely free, without shame or denial of his heritage.”
René paused. Inhaling was becoming more difficult. He tried to take another deep breath to continue.
“Suzanne has grit, Catherine, but I don’t think she’s capable of doing this on her own.” Taking another labored breath and grabbing his mother-in-law’s hand, he said, “Will you pledge to do whatever you can, within your power, to ensure that our son, your grandson, will be truly free?”
Catherine nodded slowly. “That is a formidable request, René, and I do not know how I might make that happen, but I will do whatever I can. I give you my word.”
René sank back onto his pallet. “Merci. I am at peace now.”
She gave him another measure of wine with laudanum and was gratified to see him doze off. She hoped that he would sleep at least an hour more without pain. She was afraid that it might be his last.
Catherine went over to Scamp, who was helping some women replace straw on the mattresses. “It’s time to get Suzanne, Scamp,” she said. “I believe she is at our house, helping Hortense.”
Catherine paused and put her hand on the boy’s head. “Scamp, I’m sorry that you must give Suzanne the bad news. Your message will make her very distraught. Warn her that René was severely injured and that she needs to be brave when she sees him. You need to escort her here and hold her arm all the while to make sure she does not fall. Can you do that, Scamp?”
The boy nodded solemnly.
“Good. I know I can count on you. Now, while Suzanne is preparing to come here, you have one more message to convey.”
“Yes, madame?”
“Privately ask Madame Hortense to put some rum and cigars on my altar. They are for Baron Samedi, the loa who will help René cross over into the underworld.”
Tarot: THE PAGE OF CUPS
Revelation: A new and delicate sensibility;
being willing to serve has its rewards.
It had been a long night, and today seemed even longer. Millie was driving Bella back to the big ditch. In her wagon on this trip, she had digging tools that had been rounded up in the city for building the rampart. She could hear the Carolina intermittently blasting at the British, and she prayed that Peter was all right.
Although she had made a couple of runs taking the wounded to the convent, seeing the suffering of her friend’s husband made the conflict more intense, more personal. She was exhausted, dirty, and scared. But she also had a stronger sense of commitment. She felt a connection with her new colleagues, an awareness of belonging to this community. They made her feel worthy, and that sustained her.
Her mule whinnied softly.
“Good girl, Bella, you’re doing a great job,” she said to her weary animal. Then she added to herself, “And good girl, Millie!”
Tarot: THE SIX OF CUPS
Revelation: A beginning of new knowledge.
Sister Angelique walked in and saw Catherine sitting in a chair by René’s mattress.
“How is your son-in-law doing?” she asked.
“He’s not in pain, but he’s fading fast,” responded Catherine. “I have sent for my daughter, Suzanne. I believe you know her. She was a student of yours several years ago. She also worked with you at the beginning of this month to organize the women working the shifts.”
The nun’s eyes widened. “Oh, why, of course! And this is Suzanne’s husband; I am so sorry,” she said. “Your daughter
has been such a help to us. She has incredible energy, especially in her condition. This will be quite a shock to her.”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“When is she due?”
“Sometime in February,” Catherine said. Changing the subject, she asked, “Scamp said you wanted to see me?”
“Ah, yes, I have a few items I want to discuss. Is this a good time?”
“As good as it will get, I’m afraid. René is sleeping now, thanks to the laudanum, and Suzanne won’t arrive here for at least another half hour.”
The nun wiped her forehead with her sleeve and sank down on a chair next to Catherine. She took a pencil and a piece of paper out of her apron and examined what appeared to be a list.
Catherine waited, noting that the sister looked quite exhausted. A couple more minutes passed. It seemed like Sister Angelique had forgotten Catherine’s presence. Catherine leaned over to her and quietly laid her hand on the other woman’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.
The nun put aside the list and looked up.
“I’m sorry, Madame Caresse. How rude of me.”
“Are you all right, Sister Angelique?”
“Yes, thank you. But I am tired—tired and frustrated. This”—she spread her arms, as if to take in the entire building and its occupants—“is just so . . .”
“Appalling?”
“Yes. And we’re so unprepared.” She took a deep breath. “When we Ursulines came to New Orleans in 1723, Louisiana was part of New France. Besides teaching, we cared for the sick and injured in the military hospital.”
“I was not aware of that; I knew only that you taught school,” said Catherine.
Sister Angelique nodded and then continued, “That’s because King Louis the Fifteenth gave the territory to Spain during the Seven Years’ War. The English had defeated the French armies in Canada. By giving Louisiana to Spain in 1762, he prevented the same thing from happening here.”
The Cards Don't Lie Page 19
