Page 83 - Fever 1793

“Why do you say that? He seemed friendly enough. And he has the medicine you needed.”
“The price of jalap and tea has climbed to the clouds since the fever struck. If he really cared, he would charge a decent price instead of robbing the sick. Pharmacists and coffin makers are the only people who profit from this plague.”
“Don’t forget the thieves,” I added.
Eliza made a noise in her throat and squinted at the house numbers.
“We are going to number thirty. The Sharp family They could have left for the country long ago, but
he’s a merchant and didn’t want to leave the business. Then a serving girl came down with the fever and Sharp’s wife wouldn’t abandon the girl, bless her.”
“What happened?”
“The serving girl recovered, but Mr. Sharp died. His mind went before the end, and he raged throughout the house like a mad bull, destroying all he touched. Mrs. Sharp suffered a mild case but is back on her feet again. She fears for her son and daughter, they are both ill in bed. Here it is.”
Eliza headed straight for the stairs that led to the bedchambers overhead, but I stopped in the front hall to stare. The furniture lay in heaps of splintered wood and feathers. A looking glass had been dashed to thousands of pieces, and the gilt frame torn apart. The curtains were torn from the windows, and a door was nearly ripped off its hinges. Mr. Sharp did not go gently to his grave.
“Stop dawdling, Mattie,” Eliza called from overhead. “Stoke the fire and set a pot of water to boil. Then come up here and fetch these dirty sheets.”
We spent the day caring for the Sharp children and reviving Mrs. Sharp, who fainted when the doctor bled both children. After the sun had fallen beneath the rooftops, we arrived at the Collbran house in time to see the body of the last Collbran taken out to the death cart. Eliza dragged me inside, saying we still had an obligation to wash down the sickroom.
We closed the door behind us when the western sky was shot through with the last pewter and gold rays of the day.
“You go on home, Mattie, you need a good meal and a rest,” Eliza said. “I only have one more house on this list. Tell Joseph that I’ll be along just as soon as I’m finished.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. The work will go faster if you have me there, and you shouldn’t walk home alone after dark.”
Eliza raised an eyebrow.
“Never knew you to look for extra work. Come along then.”
We walked in silence, east first, then north. I followed closely, not wanting to lose Eliza in the
confusion of alleys and shortcuts.
“I haven’t been here before,” Eliza said. “Another member of the Society asked that I stop in before
retiring. These women are seamstresses, they live alone.” She knocked politely on the peeling door, then entered.
The Gundy sisters were both mending. They silently drank their broth and nibbled on the bread. Eliza helped each woman walk to the necessary and back while I aired out their mattresses. We washed the sisters’ thin bodies and pulled clean shifts over their heads. One of the women tried to press coins into Eliza’s hand, but Eliza politely refused and put the money back in the sisters’ shabby purse.
My stomach grumbled as we mounted the stairs of the cooperage. I wondered what Joseph had cooked. He didn’t have Eliza’s cooking skills, but I wasn’t fussy. Eliza breathed heavily as she labored ahead of me. How many more days could we carry on like this?
The front room was dark except for the flicker of a small fire in the hearth. No suppertime smells welcomed us. I looked around for the twins and Nell. A log popped and the sound echoed around the apartment like a gunshot.
Joseph sat next to the fire, his face in his hands. He did not look up as we entered.