Clift's Notes

Posted By Doctor Clift on September 5, 2009

Perhaps its been the recent exertions of the men, or the rumors that the French are on the move again, but Fort Cumberland has been bustling since we returned from Fort Frederick earlier this week.  The days have passed so quickly, that I have not even had a few minutes of leisure time to sit and update my notes on my travels with the forces.  Tending to the wounded and sick from the trip back, as well as those who took ill during my absence has been my priority, and thanks to the change in the weather here, it seems as if the humors have taken to moving improperly in many of the men.  However, today things are calmer, as most of my patients are at rest presently, and again the Matron has taken good care with her ministrations to give me leave to enjoy my afternoon in peace.

Events at Fort Frederick were much busier than anticipated.  It turned out that the rumors of French soldiers in the wood was most accurate, and a small unit of our men met them and some savage raiders in the woods due west of the fort’s walls while on patrol.  The skirmish was short lived, but not without casualty and injury. I dare say some of the French soldiers are quite good shots, and took out several of our men during the fray.  I was able to spare a few, with one amputation, one bullet extraction, and the setting of one broken bone where a man tripped over a log when they gave chase to the retreating foes. The bullet extraction and amputation did stay behind under the ministrations of the good midwife at the Fort until they are much more resolved in constitution, and she sends correspondence regularly on their status.  I shall return there again in a week or so’s time with the ranging unit to check on their status and see to anyone else there at the time.  Most of the farmers have returned to their fields as the Indians will not come close again to raid for some time, and it is getting close to the harvest season for them.

One afternoon while there, I myself came down with a bit of the melancholy, with a mild fever and some tiredness that was unbecoming of me, so I did take a brief respite from my duties to bleed myself and rest.  I only bled about 4 ounces, but it seemed to be enough to bring me back into better humours.

Bleeding, I truly believe, is the greatest cure for almost all illnesses, even as I prescribe the apothecaries medications, and ply Boils upon the men.  It seems to resolve most minor melancholies faster than anything else I could offer them, and in many cases of a more serious nature, it does assist greatly the medication prescribed.  It is truly amazing to me how easy the humours do become even the slightest bit off, and require this process, as out of a hundred men, I will see about 40-50 per day for the process.  I should write to Charlotte and have her send to me a new set of lancets to augment my old pair.  They are starting to wear, which makes it hard to cut the skin open appropriately to retrieve the necessary amount of blood.  I dare say, I have often thought of even using my shaving razor to do so, as it does hone better than these flimsy pieces of steel, but think better of it because of that very sharpness.  I would not do well should I bleed someone to death!

A Mrs. Riley, one of the farmer’s women with a fairly sizable garden saw fit to augment my meager supplies of herbs this trip to the fort as well with additional supplies of wormwood, feverfew, and chamomile, which will be of most use here.  I have hung them up in the hospital to continue keeping them in a dry and clean state, to pull from when necessary, and have added them to the records of my medicinal stores.  I have heard that some doctors have been recently accused of stealing from their own stores and accusing others, and I dare say I do not want to be one of those to be accused.  i must be diligent in my recordkeeping, lest I find myself accused of such impropriety.
As quickly as it has begun, my leisure time has surely left for now, and I must attend to tending to the shaving of the men this day.

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Posted By Doctor Clift on August 28, 2009

We arrived at Fort Frederick late this past evening, barely being settled in the barracks there before a great rainstorm barraged us.  Today I will be attending to the men who are stationed here with their general maladies, as well as receiving the meager provisions for medicines sent from Annapolis towne.  The trip from Cumberland was mostly uneventful, if not long.  At night I would sit around the fire with the enlisted men to sing and tell stories of home, but as I have no wife to speak of, nor children to reminisce about, I was mostly a listener, rather than a teller.

Some of the locals around the Fort have heard rumors of a French troop wandering the woods with some of the Indians who raid these regions.  They have sought solace in the Fort, in anticipation of the raids that will surely follow if the rumors are true.  They are gracious people, offering to cook and do laundry and other tasks for the soldiers here, and for myself in exchange for medical services.  One of the good ladies has offered her services as a midwife and general herbal woman to provide me with additional supplies from the woods surrounding the fort, if I’ll just look at her son’s condition- I believe it to be a whooping cough, but it could possibly be consumption.  The supplies she’ll be gathering will be a welcome relief however- some of these local herbs seem to be more effective than what I have been receiving from England.
I dare say that I hope the rumors are true- what a show it would be for the French if they were to show up in the protectorate of the Fort, only to find an extra detachment of men to defend it.  And for myself, it would be exciting to deal with some true surgical injuries.  I find myself growing nervous as to my skills, not having been in practice of them for some weeks, with only minor illnesses to care for.  I should mentally go through the tasks of bullet extraction, and make sure my tools are at the ready at the hospital.

For bullet extraction, I will have need for my probe, forceps, extractor, needles, and tow and bandages.  In most cases, I’ve found that my fingers will suffice for extracting the bullet and whatever detritus has followed it in- bits of shirt, tree, grass, et cetera, but at times the probe and forceps are necessary to find the offending bit of lead. Once removed, I can then fill the wound with tow, which the patient will have to pull a small bit out of daily, then put a minor stitch in the wound, depending on the size.  A bandage to stem the bleeding, and then a course of rest, and a sparse diet of broth and beer for a week should have the soldier on the mend.   If the bullet is particularly lodged deep, then the bullet extractor- a great iron screw which I insert into the wound, and work into the bullet to grasp it and pull it out, is required.  In those cases however, I find more complications and infections.  It seems rather odd for it to be so, but I would imagine that the screw may interfere with the humours in a way that has not shown itself in more general situations.
It does amaze me for the strong constitutions the men have when I am performing these procedures upon them- even their mates who do hold them steady while I ply my ministrations upon them- nary a one will look pale or feel faint of heart.  In many cases, the men I am extracting the bullet from do have a fit of hysterics with screaming and crying, but for the pain they are experiencing at that point, I do have a sympathy for.  I do not use the Laudanum as liberally as some of my counterparts, but I do dose appropriately to try to ease the suffering of the wounded man.  However, some men do faint and lose their consciousness before I ply them with the Laudanum, which does make it ever so easy for me to finish my work quickly without struggle.
I have been fortunate as of yet to only have a few deaths under my care, but I tend to not blame myself- rather to blame those who are causing this war to happen, which is truly the real cause of the surgeries I am required to perform.  I wonder if those Surgeons in the French Employ have a similar outlook, and blame us as we blame them?

The Captain has just sent his steward for me to come to his Quarters for he has a bit of the melancholy about him.  I must take my bleeding implements with me.

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Posted By Doctor Clift on August 22, 2009

The monotony of this place may certainly be my downfall.  General distempers, melancholies, bleeding piles, and the occassional venereal ailment seem to be a continuous repeat daily, in addition to the shavings all men must endure.  I dare say that is a most interesting time opposed to others, as I may speak with the men freely and get information on our next advancement, location of the enemy and the savages, and information on when the next wagons of supplies shall arrive.  In this sense, I have found out today that in a few days’ time, there shall be a dispatch sent to Fort Frederick, just East of here and 3 days ride from FrederickTowne, to receive additional supplies and meet with some Indian allies for trade goods.  I plan on inquiring to the Sargent to see if I may go as well, as I am expecting a shipment of medicines from England, and the womenfolk who spend most of their time within Cumberland’s walls seem to be taking due care of the ill already in camp.
Today I should take out my tools, and clean them properly. The blood from the last engagement still rests upon some pieces- the forceps and the saws mostly- and I do not wish to have my blades dulled by presence.  Nor, I should trust, do those who would be seen under them.  I am very skilled at the manner of amputation, however, should the blade be coated in old blood, or other skin, detritous, et cetera from previous patients, it would not be as expedient nor as clean as I should expect.
I should also send correspondence to the Good Doctor in the South Carolina company to inquire upon his recovery from the Niagara siege, and the general state of things at his Fort Loudon.

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Posted By Doctor Clift on August 20, 2009

It seems appropriate when starting such a journal as this, to provide a basic amount of backstory to make sense of the things that are to come as I continue to write. For the purposes of those reading, my name is Doctor William Clift, Surgeon to his Majesty’s provincial forces serving in the Wilderness, currently stationed at Fort Cumberland. Fort Cumberland is a dreadful place, on the edge of civility and savagery. Illness abounds here, but the matrons seem to make well with their charges, and I am permitted at my leisure to write as I do now. My meager state here in a small tent and hospital space available to me is a world away from the small house my sister and I share in Fredericktowne. However, the Kings Shilling shall be a great addition to what little savings are left, and will see my sister in a fine state to keep the small shop in operation, and afford to care for the indenture that we have secured to assist Charlotte during my absence.

At the moment my primary functions here include the shaving of the men, as well as providing the medicines for the various persistent illnesses that seem to plague the men here. There is word that we shall be returning East to Fort Frederick to receive supplies and check on the state of affairs at that locale shortly, especially with word of Indian Raids in the Pennsylvania regions becoming more prevalent. I am happy for it, for the opportunity may yet arise for me to use the surgical skill which seems to lapse when we are not on the march.

The candle grows dim, as does my energy for the evening, and so I must end this entry with the general thought in my head of what things I should actually write about, rather than the day to day of my life on the Frontier, which seems almost droll. I doubt that I will want to look back here in a years time and see how I gave 3 Tobacco Clysters, a tea of horehound to a soldier, and delivered 1 baby, but rather more on my experiences as a surgeon here, when there is true action.

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