Devotion
Chapter 4
“Senhorita Bella! Senhorita Bella!” Sergeant Ramon Almeida banged on Elizabeth’s door.
It was the middle of the night and Elizabeth woke in confusion at the sound of someone making a ruckus outside her chamber. She hastily pulled on her robe and opened the door.
“Ramon?” she asked in surprise. “What is wrong?”
“It is Esterlita, Senhorita” the sergeant said in an anguished voice. “The babe is coming but something is terribly wrong. Could you…?”
“Of course, I shall come right away. Just give me five minutes to get dressed” Elizabeth said worriedly.
Ramon nodded and stepped back, allowing her to close the door. Less than three minutes later Elizabeth came out of her room, dressed in her simplest day dress, her hair made up into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, clutching a bag with her nursing gear.
“Let’s go. When did it start?” she asked urgently.
“She started having contractions just after supper. The midwife, Senhora 5 Duarte is with her but she is getting elderly and her hands are getting weak. She asked me to get you.”
“Did she say what the problem is?”
“She says the babe is in the wrong position” the worried man chocked back a sob. “If Esterlita dies…”
“She will not die” Elizabeth said forcefully. “You must keep your faith in God and his care of Esterlita, and think good thoughts.”
“Si Senhorita 6 , I shall try.”
“Good” Elizabeth smiled at him kindly, trying to reassure herself as much as she tried to reassure him.
In the meantime they arrived to the little cottage that was the Almeidas’ home. Elizabeth had befriended the young woman as soon as they had arrived and settled in the small village. Esterlita was grateful for the young English lady’s friendship, in whom she found a kindred spirit. She was rather upset that Ramon had joined the army but she was happy that at least for now, the troops were stationed just outside the village.
Esterlita’s brothers, Agostinho and Carlos Lopes were worriedly pacing the small kitchen. They too were soldiers, and both were giants of men just like their brother-in-law Ramon was, and Elizabeth was sure that the small kitchen was about to burst with the presence of three such men, especially given the level of anxiety they were in.
“Ah, Senhorita Bella!” both men stepped towards her. “You will help her, yes?” Agostinho asked.
“Of course I will” she tried to smile reassuringly. “Please warm some water and keep the house warm. I shall go now and see Esterlita” she said, just as a blood-curdling scream came from the chamber next to the kitchen. Paling, Elizabeth hastened through the door without another word.
“Esterlita” she whispered. “I am here dearest and I will do my best to help you.”
“Bella…obrigado 7 …” was all that the exhausted young woman could utter before another painful contraction gripped her.
“You must try and turn the babe” Senhora Duarte told Elizabeth, wringing her hands in helpless anxiety. “I would do it myself but my hands are no longer strong enough…”
“Of course Mama Duarte” Elizabeth murmured. “But you must tell me what to do.”
“Yes” the elderly woman nodded, relieved beyond words that help had finally arrived. “You first need to thoroughly wash your hands.”
---$---
Four hours later, an exhausted but beaming Elizabeth joined the men in the kitchen, carrying a small bundle wrapped in soft blankets.
“Ramon, meet your son” she deposited the sleeping baby into his father’s eager arms.
“Esterlita?” Ramon asked looking up at Elizabeth with angst in his eyes.
“She will be well but she is very, very tired. She is sleeping now” she assured him.
“Gra c as a Deus 8 ” Ramon breathed, looking adoringly down at his son, then turning his eyes back to Elizabeth. “You have my everlasting gratitude, Senhorita Bella.”
“And ours” Agostinho and Carlos said together, touching their hearts and bowing their heads.
“Would you please do us the great honour of being little Raoul’s godmother?” Ramon asked hopefully.
“I should be very much honoured to, but… but I am not a Catholic” Elizabeth stammered biting her lower lip, nonetheless flushed with pleasure that he should ask her.
“We are all God’s children, no? He does not care what church you pray in” Agostinho smiled.
“You are right, of course” Elizabeth smiled at the three men in return. “Nothing would make me happier than to be the godmother of this little angel, should your priest agree to it” she said with tears of joy glittering in her eyes.
Raoul ?ngelo Almeida was christened only a week later, at the Almeidas’ cottage in deference to the fact that the troops might receive their marching orders at any moment.
The proud godparents were Elizabeth and Agostinho Lopes. Albeit still weakened by the difficult delivery, Esterlita insisted to leave her bed for the occasion while Ramon insisted for her to sit down for the whole of the simple ceremony, solicitously standing by her side and holding her hand.
The elderly priest had a kind face, his eyes shining with goodness. Far from disapproving of the godmother not being a Catholic, he preached of how all God’s children were cousins as they were all descendants of Adam and Eve, and that in troubled times it was even more important than ever for all of them to stand united.
---$---
Two months later, the troops got their marching orders. They were going to Rolica, a little town about a hundred and fifty miles from Porto.
It took them five days to arrive as fortunately, they were able to commission enough horses on the way for the little caravan of wagons conveying the provisions and the nurses.
For most of the nurses, this was the first time they would join a battle and they were all nervous and wondering what it would entail, what will it be like? They all had some theoretical training but they all knew that reality will probably not even come close to what they learned and what they will face.
In what seemed like no time to Elizabeth, they were encamped in the village of Rolica. It was the 15 th of August. Everybody was now quartered in tents, the nurses included. Elizabeth shared a tent with another young nurse, Miss Rose Harrington. Miss Harrington was the third daughter of Rev. Harvey Harrington, the parson of Applegate in Essex. She was a very shy girl and she naturally gravitated towards the more outgoing Miss Elizabeth, as everyone called her since Elizabeth insisted to be called by her first name rather than Miss Bennet, claiming that her elder sister held that title. In the short few months since she had quit England, Elizabeth had become a favourite with all the camp. The troops liked her for her approachable nature and her readiness to help them with whatever she could. So far, it had been mostly writing letters for them to send home to their loved ones. The officers, the doctors and their wives enjoyed her company as she was an excellent conversationalist and her lively spirits added to the gayety of their evenings after a long day’s work.
“Which side of the tent do you prefer?” Rose asked shyly.
“I don’t really have a preference so you may pick whichever side you wish” Elizabeth replied, busy opening her trunk.
Rose hesitantly gestured towards the left side of the tent where two cots were laid out with two small boxes by way of nightstands between them. “I noticed that you are lefthanded so I think I better take the left side. It will be easier for you to have your night stand to your right when you roll over to reach something” Rose giggled softly.
Elizabeth looked up at her roommate with deep emotion shining in her eyes. “That is very considerate of you Rose” she said softly. “Not many people notice it, and even fewer try to accommodate it.”
“My youngest sister, Myra is lefthanded too. She is only seven and sometimes it is hard for her to adjust to a ‘righthanded’ world” Rose chuckled softly. “I used to try to help her but I am sure that by now she has it all figured out” she smiled proudly.
“You love your sisters” Elizabeth smiled at her new friend.
“Very much so. I have six of them” Rose beamed. “My eldest sister, Lorraine married my father’s curate, and my second elder sister, Marigold became the governess of Lady Randolph’s two young children. I am the third and here I am. My younger sisters are Abigail who is fifteen, Evelyn who is twelve, Clara who is nine, and of course Myra. They are still with Papa but Lorraine helps him a lot with the care of my sisters. Mama died four years ago” Rose wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
Elizabeth took out a small wooden box from her trunk and opening it, she lifted out two miniatures from it.
“This is my eldest sister, Jane” she handed the painting to Rose. “She is the kindest person who ever lived. And this is my next younger sister, Mary. She is a very solemn young lady but her head and her heart are in the right place. I have two more younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia but alas, I do not have their likeness.”
“They are both very pretty young ladies, especially Jane” Rose said. “And your parents?”
“They are both fine” Elizabeth said tersely without elaborating, taking the miniatures and setting them lovingly on her nightstand.
---$---
“We are to set up our hospital tent here” Dr. Porter pointed to the site. “Wellesley is to arrive tomorrow and the battle will start soon. Let us get ourselves well organized while we still have the time to do so in an orderly manner” he commanded sternly.
All the nurses set to work preparing bandages, cleaning instruments and setting up cots once the hospital tents were erected. Mrs. Porter and Mrs. Murphy helped too, along with the nurses.
“What do you think Michael?” Mrs. Murphy asked her husband as she was helping Elizabeth tear some linen into bandage rolls. “What are the odds?”
“It might be a tight battle but I heard that our troops will outnumber the French three to one” the good doctor replied. “Bar some serious mishap, we should easily win this one. But this does not mean that there will be no heavy casualties” he added sadly. “Lizzy, I want you to be among the nurses who will triage the wounded, along with Mrs. Harville and Miss Haley” he turned to Elizabeth. “They have some battle experience and you can ask for their opinion if you are in doubt, but I noticed that you have a good knowledge of wounds. Any severe chest or abdominal wounds, you send them directly to me or the other doctors. Limb wounds and minor torso wounds, you get the nurses assigned to provide first aid to stop the bleeding and prioritize them by the severity of the wound, so that we can see to them after we treated the most severe ones. Now, I know that our lads come first, but it is our Christian duty to attend to anyone in need. I will leave this to your discretion.”
“I understand, Dr. Murphy” Elizabeth said solemnly. “I shall do my best, I promise you that sir. I just hope that I shall not have too many wounded to triage through” she sighed.
“We all pray for that” Murphy muttered.
---$---
The battle started on the morning of August the 19 th . Elizabeth was working tirelessly trying to sort out the wounded that started to pour in. To her dismay, most of them were British lads of the 29 th Regiment of Foot. Rumours were that Colonel Lake made a precipitated dash which put them in a bad position. She was very worried for the outcome of the battle but she had no time to dwell on it. The lads needed help and they needed it fast.
Fortunately for their side, soon there were fewer British soldiers who were being brought in, their casualties becoming greatly outnumbered by the French wounded. She tended to them with the same dedication as she did for the British lads, the colour of their uniform making no difference to her, but she was thankful nonetheless that fewer and fewer of them were red.
She felt overwhelmed at times by the decisions she had to make. How could she tell how severe one wound was, when all of them looked so terrible? Or how could she tell, and most importantly how to make the decision, that a soldier was beyond human help and therefore not to be sent to the doctors who were overwhelmed?
She was just frantically trying to stanch the bleeding from the stump of the severed leg of a soldier when she felt Mrs. Harville laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He is almost gone dearie, he will not live another five minutes. You better go see to another.”
“But… but maybe…” Elizabeth stammered in shock.
“There is nothing that will help him now. He would not even hear you anymore. He is beyond anyone’s help” the lady said softly.
Elizabeth sighed and moved on to the next wounded, saying a silent prayer for the soul of the poor soldier who was about to die.
5 Mrs.
6 Yes Miss
7 Thank you
8 Thank God