
Dearest Brother,
I take this opportunity to write to you a story which I trust you will find entertaining and perhaps humourous. I must begin by relating to you an event that occurred nearly a year ago. You know from my previous posts that we are on Blockade Duty off the coast of North America, in particular the U. States, who are now our enemy. Whilst idling at sea near the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia, a bit of flotsam consisting of rotting pieces of trees, marsh grasses and seaweed passed by on the tides emanating from that river. This platform had, through Heaven only knows what circumstance, become the temporary home and aquatic conveyance of a most peculiar creature: Didelphis Virginiana, or as he is commonly known, the American O’possum. In form and appearance you would find him unique in every aspect. At a distance you might mistake him for a great rat, but on closer inspection you would instantly find the similarity to rodent kind to be superficial at best. His head is long with a pointed snout and a mouth filled with a prodigious number of tiny teeth much in the form of tiny needles. With these and the ferocious swinging of his head from side to side he tears whatever he finds in his mouth asunder. He is also covered with long hair, grey, tending towards black in places, almost white in others. Small, almost inconsequential, pink ears top his head; His pale pink feet almost in the shape of a hand with each digit mounted by a long sharp claw. Behind is a long tail, almost the length of the body, which is pink and naked, or rather, covered in very sparse hair so as to appear hairless. The most remarkable thing about this creature, however, is the fact that on it’s underside it possesses a pocket or pouch. The doctor’s books say this pocket is used to carry the young of this creature who are born prematurely but afterwards remove to the pocket until they are ready to face the world. It is also unusual that within the pocket the creature’s teats are located from which the offspring feed before emerging upon maturity. As far as is known there are no species of creatures related to this sort in N. America, but apparently others of his kind inhabit S. America and New Holland in great variety. But you could find this information in any library of Natural History so allow me to continue my story.

Five days ago Red Tom grew seriously ill with a fever and great congestion in his chest. His coughing could be heard all over the ship both day and night without abating. In his turmoil he called for the O’possum to be brought to him as a comfort. The Doctor would have none of it, for, in his view, the creature was filthy and would contaminate the sick room with its contagion. The Doctor, perhaps rightly, believed Red Tom’s close association with the creature had led to his current illness. In truth, however, from my observations of the O’possum, which, I must admit, has also captured my fascination, I find the thing cleaner and more fastidious than most of the Ship’s crew. But the Doctor is Lord of His Castle and Red Tom would have to heal or die without his companion. Two days later, it seemed Tom would expire in a matter of hours. Baptiste, the Surgeon’s Mate, through much pleading and exhortation, and prevailing upon his sympathy for his patient, caused the Doctor to relent his former prohibition. The O’possum was delivered and kept his vigil beside Red Tom, albeit from the safety of his cage. By morning Tom seemed to have improved greatly. The crew attributed this to the O’possum. The Doctor, however, scorned this opinion, saying his plasters and doses had clearly been for naught.
Last night, during the Middle Watch, it is supposed about two O’clock, as Tom recalls a noise that woke him about that time, the O’possum and his cage was turned out upon the deck. No one knows who the culprit was. The crew mumbles in secret that it was the Doctor who, being irritated with the animal from the start, removed it in secret. I do not subscribe to this way of thinking as the Doctor, besides being an honourable man, is not the sort to bite his tongue but would remove the animal forthright if that were his desire. I suspect over the last few days he has grown tolerant of the O’possum, if not fond of it. I hold that one of the ship’s hands, knowing that Tom was out of danger, released the animal by way of a joke or prank. Whatever the truth may be, the creature had escaped and was round about the ship in the darkness. This would not do, as most of the crew feared the O’possum and what might happen if he were tread upon in the night. Lieutenant Lord Fitzroy led the crew a merry chase through the night, searching high and low throughout the ship, to no avail. No on slept much last night.

Red Tom and the O’possum sit with the Frenchman day and night while he is convalescing. Both seem to bring him cheer. The Doctor says this will aid in his healing and therefore the O’possum is allowed to stay as well. As you know, Baptiste is our Story Teller so now that he is free from his duties for a while he is keeping us entertained with his tales of his life before he came aboard the Acasta.
It is my sincerest wish that you, Brother, have found this story amusing and that it may lighten your day and that of your Dear Family, if you so choose to share it with them. I Remain Affectionately,
Your Brother
Harold H. Day, Midshipman
Aboard HMS Acasta,
Halifax, N. American Station
As recorded in his journal, dedicated to his Brother, James A. Day. 23rd April, 1813.
Real life note: Tony Gerard really DID recently break his leg, and to NO ONE'S surprise, there was in fact a Possum involved. Get well soon Tony!
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