Chapter 21 part III
Richmond, Virginia
January 28, 1862 - Morning
From Dr. James Merriweather’s Research notes.
The lines slightly lopsided, clearly been jotted down in a rush, some words cutting in the page
Fever ward operational. New protocol instated, health screening for all personnel working with infectious cases - perfect cover for obtaining E.C.'s blood sample.
Months of observation suggest significant constitutional changes, but I require quantifiable confirmation. The prussiate test will provide definitive proof. I hope.
Her long exposure may have created the controlled progression my research has long theorized.
Finally, I’ll know.
Richmond Confederate Hospital
Late afternoon, January 28, 1862
Eleanor presented herself exactly on time, arriving at the makeshift laboratory with her notebook clutched against her chest and eyes bright with anticipation.
Dr. Merriweather stood at his workbench arranging glass vials and bottles methodically, the afternoon light streaming through the high factory windows and catching the crystal and metal surfaces of his equipment.
"Miss Caldwell, thank you for coming promptly." He looked up from his preparations. "As I mentioned this morning, we must conduct health screenings for all personnel assigned to the fever ward, now that it is finally operational. A simple precautionary measure."
"Of course." Taking the chair he indicated and smoothing her skirts, Eleanor confessed, "I find myself tremendously curious about the procedure. Is this the same kind of test you use on the patients?"
"Indeed. We're testing for early signs of exposure to infectious agents."
James selected a vial labeled "Morrison, J." from his collection. "Private Morrison suffered that unfortunate attack yesterday. His blood will demonstrate the test process - and show what a positive result looks like." He paused, selecting another vial. "I also tested Nurse Williams this morning for comparison."
Fascinated, Eleanor leaned forward as he measured three drops of Morrison's blood into a small glass dish. "What does the test reveal?"
"Iron content released by the damaged blood cells during the fever spikes." He added a clear solution from a brown bottle. "This is potassium prussiate - it reacts with iron compounds to produce a distinctive color change."
He followed with a single drop of acid. Watching intently, Eleanor observed as a deep blue tinge, almost black, bloomed through the solution.
Eleanor gasped softly. "How dark it is!"
"Indeed. Morrison's exposure was sudden and severe - the attack left him with considerable physical damage, and here is the hidden one," James explained. "Now observe the contrast." He prepared a fresh dish with Nurse Williams's blood, repeating the process.
This time, a faint pale blue hue appeared.
"As you can see, Nurse Williams shows minimal damage," James noted. "The natural response to miasmatic influences in the hospital environment, but well within normal bounds."
Eleanor made careful notes. "So the darker it gets, the more severe the affliction?"
"Precisely. Morrison's dark reaction indicates advanced cellular disruption, while Williams's pale response suggests her body is managing environmental exposure well."
"How clever of you to think of such a comparison!" Eleanor's face lit with genuine medical interest. "So you can detect the degree of affliction before symptoms fully manifest?"
"Exactly. Early detection allows for preventive measures. Isolation, for example, and focussed treatment." James began cleaning the testing apparatus with careful attention, noting how Eleanor unconsciously leaned forward when he handled the chemical bottles, as though drawn to their metallic scent. "Now then, shall we proceed with your own blood?"
Eleanor extended her hand, palm up, without hesitation. "I am most eager to see my own results. I suspect I must have absorbed some influence working with all those patients."
James pricked her finger efficiently, collecting the blood drops in a fresh dish. She barely registered the puncture, her attention already moving to other aspects of the procedure. "There. The reaction takes a few minutes to develop fully. Why don't you look over these new protocols for the ward while we wait?"
Absorbed in the paperwork, Eleanor moved to the small table where he'd laid out medical forms and procedural documents, unconsciously adjusting her posture to avoid the swathe of sunlight bathing the desk. "These isolation requirements are extraordinarily comprehensive," she murmured. Already, she noticed, the tiny pinprick on her finger had stopped bleeding entirely. "The dietary restrictions for severe cases seem particularly... specific."
Behind her, James added the reagent to her blood sample.
The reaction was immediate and violent. Deep prussian blue, almost black, bloomed through the solution like spilled ink—so very similar to Morrison's reaction. The glass dish growing warm in his hands.
James felt his pulse accelerate, his face flush with triumph. Eleanor's blood matched the afflicted patient exactly. For a moment he stared at the results, years of theoretical work validated in a single chemical reaction. Oh, how he loved the sciences today!
Clearing his throat and steadying his breathing, he quickly transferred Eleanor's reacting mixture to a covered beaker and reached for Williams's pale sample, placing it prominently on the workbench just as Eleanor began to turn back.
"Is it done? How did it appear?" she asked brightly.
"Excellent results," James replied, gesturing to Williams's test on the workbench. "Very similar to Nurse Williams - minimal exposure, well within the expected range."
Eleanor beamed at the assessment, glancing at the pale blue sample. "I am so pleased! I was concerned given my work with the more difficult patients, but I suppose proper precautions truly do make a difference."
"Indeed they do." James made a show of recording results in his logbook. "You're cleared for full duty in the fever ward, Miss Caldwell, congratulations."
"When do I begin?"
"Tomorrow morning. Report directly to me - we'll review the specialized procedures for handling challenging cases in detail." He paused, studying her face with what appeared to be professional concern. "I should mention that this work will require... prolonged contact with patients others cannot safely tend. But you have demonstrated an excellent constitution, which will serve you well in such duties. I am not worried."
Eleanor straightened with visible pride. "I am honored by your confidence in me."
"It is well-placed." Gathering his equipment, James observed, "The fever ward will benefit greatly from your particular... capabilities."
After Eleanor departed, her step light with purpose as she crossed the floor of the main patient area, ready for a work day tending the injured, James retrieved the covered beaker containing her blood sample. The reaction had stabilized into a deep, rich blue-black that seemed to shimmer in the lamplight.
Incredible.
He opened his research journal to a fresh page.
Everett House, Sarah's parlor
Evening, January 28, 1862
From Eleanor Caldwell Personal Journal.
The words look as elegant as always on the paper, but a stray ink dot or two betray the writer’s excitement.
What an extraordinary day! The health exam proceeded flawlessly - Dr. Merriweather pronounced me fit for the most demanding duties in the new fever ward.
I confess I felt a flush of pride when he commented on my healthy constitution and my abilities.
The testing procedure itself fascinated me beyond measure. To think that simple chemical reactions can show whether someone has been touched by disease, and to what extent! This is truly a new age for medicine.
This iron detection method seems remarkably clever - I made detailed notes for future reference.
I am to begin work in the fever ward tomorrow morning. Dr. Merriweather emphasized that I shall be working with the most challenging cases, patients that require "specialized care" due to their particular symptoms. He clearly believes my steady nerves and analytical mind make me especially suited for such difficult work.
I confess I am both nervous and exhilarated by the prospect.
To be entrusted with the most difficult medical cases, to work directly with Dr. Merriweather on what he hints may be groundbreaking research - such opportunities are rare for any medical practitioner, let alone someone of my sex and limited formal training.
Sarah couldn't but notice my excitement during supper. "You're practically glowing, Eleanor," she said with a smile. "This new position already suits you remarkably well."
Indeed, I feel more vital and purposeful than I have in months. The numbness and exhaustion I felt over Mr’ Everett’s death is finally starting to lift, replaced by anticipation for meaningful work that may advance our understanding of these mysterious afflictions.
Sarah, too, seems much brighter today. A letter arrived from Charles - the first we've received in weeks - though it was written some days before his father's passing, so the dear boy has no knowledge yet of our loss. Still, knowing he is safe and well has lifted Sarah's spirits considerably.
She spent the evening reading passages aloud, savoring every word about his regiment's winter quarters and his hopes for spring.
It pains me to think how the news of his father's death will inevitably cast a shadow upon his spirit when our letter reaches him.
Tomorrow I begin what Dr. Merriweather calls "the real work." I can hardly contain my eagerness to discover what these patients might teach us.
End Entry
Dr Merriweather’s private office
Late night, January 28, 1862
From Dr. James Merriweather’s Research notes.
Initially sharp and close together, the words progressively return to the style most commonly seen in the journal.
Confirmation.
E.C.'s blood alterations exceed my most optimistic projections. The humoral disruption indicated by today's test surpasses anything documented in my previous research. Yet she exhibits no symptoms of constitutional decline - rather the opposite. Enhanced vitality, improved constitution, heightened sensibilities she interprets as "better health."
Observed today: unconscious attraction to chemical scents, rapid wound healing, sunlight avoidance. All consistent with advanced adaptation, while clearly maintaining her full mental faculties.
The controlled progression theory proved sound. Long term contact with the Everett patriarch created ideal priming conditions. Her constitution adapted incrementally rather than being overwhelmed by acute exposure.
She suspects nothing. Views herself as a normal volunteer cleared for routine medical duties. Her enthusiasm makes her eager for increased contact with severe cases - exactly what I require for the next phase of observation.
The girl believes she's embarking on meaningful medical work. In truth, she is the medical work - the living proof that enhancement of such nature is not only possible but potentially reproducible.
Weekly blood tests will track progression under the guise of routine health monitoring. She'll work directly with the most severe cases, her strenghtened constitution should not merely survive but thrive under such conditions.
As mentioned the subject shows no signs of the mental deterioration that typically accompanies this affliction. Her analytical capabilities remain intact, even enhanced. For the first time in years of research, I have a subject who maintains hold of their higher faculties throughout the process.
The possibilities are extraordinary.
Would isolation from further influence allow return to baseline vitality, or has she crossed some irreversible threshold? Most fascinating - would acute exposure precipitate crisis and rapid decline, or enable the final transformation as my research has long suggested possible?
The schedule I have prepared shall test these possibilities methodically. Steady, measured contact with advanced cases should reveal whether her adaptation has found an equilibrium or is in active progression. She shall document her own responses without comprehending their significance - invaluable observations of the process from within.
Should my theories prove false... the observations from her decline shall prove equally valuable to future inquiry.
Eleanor Caldwell has become my finest research achievement, what a breakthrough.
End of Entry
James Merriweather locked his journal in the desk drawer, the key disappearing into his waistcoat pocket. Through his window, Richmond settled into fitful sleep, and a young woman, unable to lay down, started writing a letter to her far away love.
© 2025 E.M. di V. - writing as Morgan A. Drake & Joe Gillis. All rights reserved.