Free Plantation Nation (9781621352877) by Mercedes King Page B

popular rumor among his assistants claimed that Dr.
Spear spent more time grooming his hair — and satisfying his opiate infatuation — than tending to his patients.
    "Yes, sir, they're clean," Emma said. "I'm
folding them."
    "For what? We are not here to play house,
Edwards. Lag on your own time, not mine. I want these sheets on
beds within the hour."
    "Yes, Dr. Spear."
    "When you're through with that, I want you to
administer the quinine. Be mindful that you don't spill a drop, and
remember, one spoonful, and one spoonful only, to each patient, no
matter how much they beg, pathetic worms," he grumbled under his
breath. "And keep in mind, I will be checking to make sure you've
followed orders. Do not repeat the act of yesterday." Praise for
others was foreign to him, but in the presence of Colonel Reed or
other high-ranking officers, the doctor became a pussycat, sick
with Union fervor.
    The previous day, Emma had given patients
extra doses of quinine. More medicine, she theorized, could produce
a cure. She had gambled and lost. However, Dr. Spear's threats
didn't ruffle her.
    "Yes, Dr. Spear." Emma mocked the doctor as
he left the tent. She had given up reminding the good doctor her
name was not Edwards, or Edwin, or whatever name he created on a
regularly basis.
    Part of her blamed Dr. Spear for the men's
agony. Speculation circulated that Dr. Spear hoarded supplies and
cared more about protecting his own life than saving others'. Emma
suspected some truth in the notion, considering the doctor's
lengthy absences from the tent and the patients.
    By the time Emma reported for drill duty that
afternoon, weariness threatened her performance. Graham, fresh from
picket duty, joined her. In Emma's mind, they had formed a fragile
friendship, one where Emma guarded her every word and action since
they shared close quarters. During their first nights in the tent,
Emma had slept only in snippets. She got used to Graham's mild
snoring and soon convinced herself that Graham suspected nothing.
Emma trained herself to rise before most of the men were awake, a
difficult adjustment since the smell of breakfast cooking usually
woke her on the plantation. Nerves drove her, though, as did her
hatred of reveille. She could wash off and dress for duty alone,
and she liked the feeling of preparedness it gave her for the day.
Working in the hospital tent also afforded her screened areas for
privacy when she needed it.
    "Brought you some hardtack," Graham said as
they took their position with the company in the courtyard.
    Armed with their muskets, they would practice
priming the weapon, tearing open the paper cartridge with their
teeth, loading the barrel, and firing the gun. Colonel Reed wanted
his men proficient in the use of the weapon, despite the sketchy
craftsmanship and inaccuracy of the army-issued musket.
    Emma thanked Graham and attacked the unsalted
biscuit with ravenous bites. Like everyone else in the
fortification, Emma loathed the monotony of the tasteless rations,
but complaining changed nothing. That prim manners had no place at
an encampment was a small consolation.
    "Any news come?" she asked.
    "Just that the Rebels are strengthening their
troops around Richmond. Still no word on a definitive plan of
attack."
    Evenings by the fire gave the men a chance to
recount and share the day's news. Tonight, Emma and the others
learned General Winfield Scott's "Anaconda Plan" had been
dismissed. Politicians argued that the current Navy was too small
for the tactic of guarding all Southern ports, since almost every
seceded state bordered the Atlantic or the Gulf of Mexico.
Currently, the Navy already struggled maintaining its blockade in
several key ports. Furthermore, advisers believed training enough
men for an effective ground invasion launched primarily from the
West, using the Mississippi River to transport and transplant
troops, would take too long. Most of the men in Lincoln's circle
wanted a speedier resolution.
    The Union's