Seventh Grade Colonial Museum
“A Look at the Colonial World Through the Eyes of….”
Name: Wyatt (Charles Williams)
Title of Creative Piece: Yorktown’s Cold, Dark Days
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I glance out the window and I can see the lush, green forest in the distance through the morning mist off fall. The leaves are colorful, bright shades of red, orange and yellow. I can smell the fresh, crisp air as drafts float in and out the open window. The atmosphere of the town is mellow and tired. It’s a slow day in the shop. Nobody in Yorktown is in need of my services today, so I can catch up on the letter I am writing to my family back home. My father caught the horrid disease known as smallpox and he is in critical condition. I tried to keep my mind off of him, but I must right back. By the time my mother receives the letter, he might already be dead. I am a surgeon just like my father, and I am glad I can follow in his footsteps. I voyaged over to the New World for a fresh slate. It was always hard to find business when a potential patient could just go to my father, who is one of the most renowned surgeons in England. Over here in Yorktown, all I do is carry his name. Yes, I acknowledge that I get lots of business over here because of that, but I am building a reputation of my own. I often venture to other parts of Virginia, which is rare for somebody of my trade. I do not regret coming to the New World.
“Charlie, dinner’s ready!” my sister Elizabeth calls. My body aches as I get up from my bed. My stomach starts rumbling as the the aroma of the beef stew floats into my room. I came to Virginia with my three siblings, Elizabeth, who is 21, Sarah, who is 17 and my brother Walter, who is 18. My sisters and I all work in the Williams Family Apothecary and Surgery Shop. I have my own little room in the back where I keep all of my equipment. I do not operate in the shop, as all surgery is done in the patient’s home. My brother Walter is a surgeon in the military, so he isn’t often home. I miss having him in the house. All of his antics bring back great memories. I really hope that he does not die in the war. We do not see him very often, and he is almost never home, but he still has a room in our house for when he is home. Sometimes, I think I hear his beautiful notes as he sings in the morning, always giving the house a happy vibe. Our house is not massive by any means, but it gets the job done. We are all a part of the middling class, so we can afford more than a one room structure. My siblings and I are very fortunate to have made a good living here in the New World, as many people left England with a lot and now have next to nothing. Tomorrow is Sunday, the most holy day of the week. My whole family, including my parents back home are protestant christians. I would never say this out loud, but as a surgeon, I think everyone cares too much about religion. God never saves you, but surgery does.
I hear a knock on our door, and I pop out of my chair, still groggy from the little nap I had in my chair. My neck aches as I get the door. My best friends wife greets me with wet cheeks, and I know something is wrong.
“Come in, Cornelia,” I say as she walks in, shoulders hunched.
“Abe. It’s Abe. He’s going to die!” Cornelia says. I wonder what is wrong as she blurts out almost unrecognizable words through her sobs.
“He’s concussed! He can’t walk and he keeps vomiting. Nobody ever survives a concussion!” She practically screams as hers sobs became less and less frequent. My face turns white. I know she’s correct. The only surgery my father would perform that had more people die than survive was trephination, the treatment for concussions. Thankfully, I haven’t had to perform trephination too many times, but I know the results: death. My stomach becomes hollow as I realise my best friend is going to die. “I will still try,” I tell Cornelia as I stumble out the door. We run to her home and I threw open the door. I am greeted by the smell of vomit in the dank, musty house. Cornelia rips the tablecloth off the dining room table as I grab my tool box and hual it into the dining room. I can barely carry Abraham and I almost trop him before I reach the table. I don’t even need to think as I whip out my scalpel and trephine, before I realise Abe needs to be in a chair. Cornelia grabs a chair and slides it across the floor and I put him in the chair. I don’t even grab my coin to trace the cut. I free hand a circle of skin on the top of his head. My scalpel is new and sharp, and the cut is clean. I peel off the newly cut skin as I position the trephine on top of his head. I crank the trephine as it slowly drills through his skull. The crunch of the bone makes me cringe, but I keep going. I finally cut all the way through, and I wait as blood and water seep out of the opening. After a few minutes, the leakage is miniscule and I cover the abyss in Abe’s skull with silver. Maybe the so called healing powers that silver has will save my best friend Abe.
I have done surgery for as long as I can remember. From helping my father in his shop back in England to performing in my own shop here in Yorktown, my whole life revolved around surgery. My purpose as a surgeon was to save lives and innovate the field in England, but here it is much more. My biggest, most important job is now to make sure the colony of Virginia survives and excels. We almost collapsed after a few years in Jamestown, and we cannot allow for that to happen again. The colony needs to grow, and people need to be alive and well to do that.
Miles F Humanities
11/15/16 7 A
I am Walter Williams. I am 20 years old. I work on the battlefield as a surgeon. It is so tiring working on people. It is also very sad. I see so many people die. I also miss my family so much and every day I think of them. My parents both died when I was young so I don’t really remember them, but I still miss them. They might be the reason I am a surgeon. I like being a surgeon because it makes me so proud when I save someone’s life.
My brother and two cousins are all I have in terms of family. My brother’s name is Abraham Williams and he is the closest person in the world to me. My cousins names are Olivia Williams and Elizabeth Williams. They are like my sisters. I miss all of my family dearly but I know that am doing the right thing and the thing that I love. When the war is over I will work at my family’s apothecary with Olivia, Abraham, and Elizabeth. I am sure I will love it as much as I love working in the army. My family comes from the middle class. Even though I work in the military and I love it sometimes, I wish I could make a little more money so I could help my family economically.
Every day a huge number of people need help from me, it is very tiring and draining. I work all day long. Most of the problems I deal with are infections or gunshot wounds. I have to work very fast on people because every second I waste, the likelihood of the person dying gets bigger. The thing about surgery is that you have to get used to people dying right in front of your face. Sometimes that can be really hard. Sometimes I have so many people to help that I just have to amputate the part of the body that has an issue. Amputation is the fastest and easiest way to get rid of someone’s wound. That is why when I have so many people to deal with, I just have to do amputation. The scariest part of my job is working so close to the battlefield. You hear everything, the guns shooting and the screams of dying men fighting for freedom. The sounds of everything gives me nightmares.
Right then a soldier screams and says, “Walter, you might want to get ready for a big group of soldiers. There has just been a canon explosion and it connected pretty well with some men. There are about 40 soldiers that have been wounded. You’ll have to be pretty fast. I’ve got news that some of them are pretty close to death.”
When the first soldier comes the wound looks very serious, and I immediately know he will need amputation so I say, “I’m sorry to bare the bad news, but you will need amputation on your leg. Unfortunately, this is the end of your time in the army. But fortunately, you will survive.”
The man replies with crying at first and then he says, “thank you for helping me.”
Then I start the surgery. After the surgery I send him away and wish him good luck outside of the army. The thing that you have to know when you are a surgeon is how to be kind and gentle with the soldiers as you might be telling the man the worst news of their life.
I have dealt with a lot of conversations like this one. Sometimes it makes me sad to see a man leave the war. Sometimes I get upset that I am the person that tells them to leave and that I changed their life completely. At first I couldn’t handle myself, but after a couple of weeks in the war, I got used to doing these kind of things. Amputation is definitely the most sad surgery because you are completely changing the person’s life. Also, it makes life ten times harder than it used to be. I wish that there could be a better way to treat wounds. I wish that us surgeons could learn more medical procedures, that are more effective and helpful in the long term. Unfortunately, this is how most musket and cannon ball wounds go. Even though my job is sad I must do it because if I don’t the army will lose even more lives.