Chapter 4: The Yellow Jack

June 1820

The pleasantly mild climate enjoyed by the Bermudians during the winter months had been replaced by rather hot weather, ameliorated only by the southerly winds sweeping the islands. On St. George Island, with its comparatively large population of civilians and soldiers, the former in overcrowded housings and the latter in poorly planned barracks, the summer heat was compounded by a distinct lack of aeration, but also by numerous cesspits in which the wastes of men and animals ended up and which during the summer months, emanated a permanent, pestilent stench.

Forty-five years later, that situation would still be in evidence and lambasted in bitter words by the learned Doctor Maclean, when in his capacity as Deputy Inspector-General of the Army, he expounded on the reasons for a severe outbreak of the Yellow Fever in St. George¹. Then, and in 1820, complete negligence and ignorance of proper sanitary measures were the rule by which the Army and the civilians in St. George lived their lives.

Living in Navy House, with its unimpeded view of the outer harbour, and given the mostly southerly breeze, the Greys were not overly affected by the situation within the fortress and the more crowded quarters, and Thomas avoided calls at the Army headquarters whenever possible.

In the year before, Brigadier Argyll had reported eighteen known cases of the Yellow Fever in St. George, all on the eastern side of the island, and he had even ordered a clean-up of the numerous cesspits — an order that was silently countermanded by Surgeon-Major John Landis, the chief surgeon of the garrison as too imposing on his staff. Thus, the situation had persisted.

The new governor, through his former service in India aware of the risks of the unsanitary conditions, had renewed the orders, but the work was processing slowly and without any oversight by Landis. Thus, by early June, the last year’s case numbers were already exceeded.

As a consequence, Thomas ordered any shore leave in St. George denied and rather stationed most of his ships to anchor in Hamilton Harbour where so far no cases of the Yellow Jack had come to attention. The last he needed were ships under quarantine, with their crews decimated.

This was tedious, of course, and would have meant hardship for Robert and Harriet-Anne, but Robert solved this by renting temporary quarters in Hamilton for his wife. Catriona hesitated at first, but then she, too, moved to Hamilton to keep her sister-in-law company.

Drawing on his own experiences with the Yellow Fever, and the week of lessons at the hands of Cubah, the witch doctress, Thomas sent out directives to the ship’s surgeons of his squadron, laying out quarantine rules, but also the best treatment of the ague, namely lowering the fever by cold baths and the administration of willow bark infusions. Knowing of the prevalence of tropical agues in Bermuda, Thomas had seen to it that generous quantities of dried bark were obtained from a herbalist and taken along in a well-sealed earthen crock.

He knew of course that most sawbones would disregard his directives, but some might heed them and possibly save sailors’ lives. For Navy House and its staff, he also issued rules. The servants were admonished to stay away from the eastern part of the island, and the cesspit was covered with a layer of slaked lime, which much reduced the stench. Still, every day, a number of soldiers fell sick with the ague, until even Landis became active, liming the cesspits and whitewashing the walls in the infirmary and even in the barracks. A good part of the garrison was also distributed over the islands, reducing the overcrowding in the barracks. Those soldiers camped on higher, dry ground, away from stagnant waters, and after a week, the number of newly sick soldiers dropped indeed.

It was around that time when Teresa returned rather late from a painting excursion to the northeastern coast. It was in fact dark before she arrived, and she was agitated. She had been accompanied by one of the maidservants, and in early afternoon, she had sent out their coachman to call at a public house and buy some provisions. The coachman, Williams, never returned, and Teresa with her sole companion decided to walk back to St. George proper when the light began to fade. By then, mosquitos and other flying pests emerged from their hiding places and swarmed around the two, frequently drawing blood, and on Teresa, the angry red mosquito bites could be seen on her hands and her neck.

Thomas and Mirabel had been worried sick already, and when he saw the mosquito bites and heard of the driver abandoning his duty, Thomas was more than livid. The driver, an older man named Plank, arrived a half hour later, having searched for Teresa and her servant at the place on the coast, and finding them gone. A sharp questioning revealed that he had used part of the money given to him for ardent spirits and for a tryst with a wench, and noticing the approaching dusk too late.

Thomas had a mind to exact a severe punishment, but Plank was not a Navy man, just a labourer, and all Thomas could do was to chase him off without pay. Teresa was also receiving a lecture about going out unsupervised and without telling anybody where she went, but then Mirabel interceded, and had her served a supper, before sending her to bed.

Of course, Thomas was worried about his oldest. Firstly, to walk half the island in the dusk with only the young maidservant for company was foolhardy, to say the least. Secondly, to visit the northeaster coast against his strict orders was not only stupid, but might have exposed her to the Yellow Jack. From his own experience, he knew that it took between two and five days for the ague to show first, and he watched Teresa like a hawk over the following days.

When nothing seemed to precipitate for four days, Thomas began to feel relief, but in the evening of the fourth day, at supper, Teresa suddenly set down her spoon and cradled her head in her hands.

“Teresa, is something the matter?” Thomas asked, not quite able to suppress the fear in his voice.

“I just dev ... eloped this headache, Father. I’m also feeling cold.”

“Mirabel, leave us alone. Please do it immediately and take Maggie with you. Tell Lettie to meet me in Teresa’s room. She’s had the Yellow Jack before. She and I will care for Teresa. You and the children must stay away. Please! I love you all, and I shan’t lose any of you to this ague. See to it that we have plenty of lye soap and tell Cook to butcher a chicken and make a strong broth.”

“I’ll see to everything,” Mirabel answered apprehensively. “Please, take care of our Teresa!”

Thomas helped his trembling daughter from the chair, and when he found that her tottering legs would not carry her up the stairs, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her to her room. Only moments later, Lettie, or Lettice as she had been christened, showed up. She had been a slave girl, owned by a merchant, Mister Jones, who had sold her to the Greys. She was only seventeen, but she had given birth a year before, to a girl named Eliza. The father of the child was also a slave who worked in Mister Darrell’s warehouse, and Mirabel had taken the girl into service mostly to look after little Theo whilst also taking care of her little daughter. That she had survived the Yellow Fever four years earlier was a lucky coincidence. Of course, her manumission papers had been signed and filed within a week.

Lettie spoke good English and had learned some rudimentary healing skills from her mother, and she instinctively knew what to do. She undressed and changed Teresa into a nightshirt whilst Thomas busied himself with preparing the first tisane from crushed willow bark, sweetened with sugar and with a pinch of salt, as he had been taught so many years ago during that week in Cubah’s dwelling. Talking to her soothingly, he helped Teresa drink the concoction.

Teresa was shivering violently by then and quite unable to drink by herself, but she was still lucid, and Thomas told her of what she was suffering and how he himself had been in her shoes nineteen years before. He told her how Jimmy Wilkerson had smuggled him off the Cormorant sloop and to Port Royal where the famous witch doctress had taken charge of him and healed him. He also told her of how he himself had learned things from Cubah whilst he waited for Wilkerson to recuperate from the surgery he had needed.

“See, Teresa, my sweet little shipmate, I learned from that woman who was and is a healer known even to His Royal Highness, the Duke of Clarence, whom she healed once. I remember those lessons well, even though I was a lad of eleven, and I shall stay with you and see you back to health.”

“I’mm v-very c-c-cold, F-father!” Teresa answered weakly.

“Beg your pardon, Master, but I’s had the Yellow Jack afore. M-may I jus’ cuddle t’the Miss, make her warm?”

“Would you, Lettie? I could do it, but a father shouldn’t lie with his daughter.”

“Da young Miss been right good to me, Master, an’ I’ll do it for her.”

“Oh, well, do it then and be blessed for your good heart, Lettie.”

“May I’s learn da medicines, too, Master?”

“Of course, girl. There’s always need for good healers and nurses.”

Lettie was not wearing much; just a simple belted dress, which she pulled over her head, and plain drawers. She slipped into the bed and under Teresa’s blanket and hugged her from behind, sharing her body heat with the shivering girl, whilst Thomas sat down on the chaise longue which was Teresa’s favourite piece of furniture. Reclining, he went over the procedures again which he had learned, revisiting each lesson in his head, to make certain that he still knew what to do.

He was roused by a soft knock on the door and jumped up to open. There was Mirabel, keeping her distance, but carrying a tray with soup and tea.

“How is she, Thomas?”

“She seems to sleep a little. Lettie climbed into the bed behind her, and it lessened her shivers.”

“I made more of that willow bark tea, and Cook keeps a soup pot on the fireplace.”

“That’s good, darling. Can you have her brew some coffee for me? Hell, have her make some cocoa for Lettie. The girl is giving her best.”

“I shall do that. It was a stroke of good luck that Mister Jones sold her to us.”

“Once Teresa is feeling better, I’ll think of a way to reward her.”

“Will you need anything else, my dear?”

“A small glass of brandy to settle my stomach?”

“I shall see to it. Take care of our daughter, please!”

“I’d kiss you, Mirabel, but I shan’t risk it.”

“I understand, Love. I’m with you in my thoughts, and with our Teresa.”

Teresa was less feverish when she woke close to dawn. With much coaxing, Thomas could make her drink another large mug of the willow bark infusion, but also two large mugs of the chicken broth. She had pain swallowing, but she was lucid enough to understand the importance of drinking. An hour later, she was asleep again, this time alone, and Lettie was allowed to rest on the chaise longue. The other women in the household, namely Cook, were taking good care of the small girl, feeding her mashed foods and some of the chicken broth, but also cleaning her. Thomas would not risk having Lettie take care of her girls whilst taking care of Teresa.

Thomas and the young servant broke fast together, always keeping an eye on Teresa, who seemed to sleep well enough. When she finally woke at noon, her head was clear and hurting less than the evening before. She even ate some buttered bread and had another large mug of broth, followed by more willow bark tisane, which, as hoped, kept the headaches at bay.

Come the evening, Teresa’s fever rose again, and the violent shivers returned. When they subsided after a while, Lettie, who was cuddled against Teresa, whispered urgently.

“Master, she’s much hot, more hot than last night!”

The house servants were roused on Thomas’s behest and sent to the sea shore with pails and buckets, to bring cool seawater. Thomas was leery of using water from the cistern, and besides, the water in the bay was cooler than the collected rainwater in the cistern. Soon, the wash tub that had been placed in Teresa’s room was filled with cool water and Thomas, with Lettie’s help, lowered his daughter into it. They had stripped the girl of her nightshirt, reasoning that the water would cool her down better without the fabric. Using wet cloths, Thomas also cooled Teresa’s forehead and neck.

In the flickering light of the oil lamp, Thomas saw the slim body of his daughter for the first time. Her budding breasts, her trim stomach, and her long, graceful legs made him realise her delicate beauty, and it made her suffering even less bearable for him. Slowly, the water in the tub became warmer, heated by Teresa’s feverish body, and when it was tepid, he lifted the girl from the water and onto the bed, where Lettie dried her off with a blanket and dressed her in a fresh nightshirt.

Teresa was now clear in her head, but immensely tired, and after another mug of willow bark tea, this time with a pinch of Assam tea and much sugar added, she fell asleep, with a tired Lettie behind her. Thomas lay down on the chaise longue and was also able to catch some much needed sleep.

When the short dawn of the southern Atlantic came, Thomas woke with a start. He had not planned to sleep that long and he fairly bolted up from his resting place to look for his daughter. In the weak light coming in from the small window, he could see that she was asleep and breathing easily. Gently touching her forehead, he felt her skin not cool, but not hot either, and he breathed a sigh of relief that woke Lettie.

She blinked a few time to shake the cobwebs off, but then she smiled at her master.

“Miss Tess sleep well. Not hot, quiet. She’s good now.”

“It seems this way, Lettie. You did very well.”

Even under the dark skin and in the poor light, Thomas could see the young slave woman blush.

“You’n the Mistress made me free. I’m happy ta help, Master.”

“And we’re glad to have you. Stay a while longer, catch some sleep. Let Teresa sleep as long as possible.”

He, too, lay down again and closed his eyes. Teresa might just weather the Yellow Jack easier than he had, but it was too early to tell. At least, he would be able to tend to his duties during the morning hours, and perhaps enjoy a decent meal.

He woke the next time to the unmistakable sound of a woman passing water into a chamber pot. He watched unobtrusively as Teresa emptied her bladder, squatting over the pot, with Lettie wiping her clean afterwards. The young woman then emptied the pot through the open window, after making certain that nobody was standing underneath. She then used the wash basin to clean her hands, and emptied the water through window, too. More water was poured from the jar and Lettie helped Teresa with a cat lick bath, after which Teresa lay back on her bed again.

Sensing this might be the right time, Thomas faked waking up and stood up from the chaise longue.

“Good morning, little shipmate,” he greeted his daughter as he had done for eight years.

“Good morning, father. I’m feeling much better.”

“That is quite a relief for us. You must stay in bed for another day or two, and we shall have to see how you will feel in the evening, but perhaps we can prop you up a little in your bed. You just be lazy today, you hear?”

Teresa took a deep breath and gave him a wry smile. “I feel like being lazy. I’m also hungry.”

“We can take care of that. I shall ask...”

Just then, a knock sounded from the door and Thomas went to open it. It was Mirabel.