Acutely aware of how much of an inconvenience I must be, I curtsied and backed from the room. I don’t recall what I managed to stammer to either His Excellency or Lady Washington; I only hope I was able to share my gratitude and my best wishes to them both.
But as soon as I was in the hall and the door closed behind me, I found myself in the middle of more chaos than I’d ever witnessed before in this house as the officers who’d lodged there prepared to leave. For once, no one paid any attention to me at all, and I was as good as invisible. Servants and waiters rushed back and forth as they collected bundles of uniforms, shirts, and stockings as well as leather bags and boxes. It became clear that they’d received orders not just for a single encounter with the British, but to gather their belongings for a campaign.
I was desperate to know more, to know what had happened earlier and what would happen next. Despite how Lady Washington had advised me to wait and be told, I couldn’t, and I caught the sleeve of one of the passing African servants. Dressed in the red and white livery of Mount Vernon, he belonged to the Washingtons, and if anyone knew the latest news, it was always servants.
“A moment, if you please,” I said. “Can you tell me what has happened?”
He nodded, and touched his forehead to me in deference.
“Yes, madam,” he said, with the same eager excitement that nearly every other man, of every rank and station, was displaying around us. “They say there’s five thousand of the enemy rowed over from Staten Island last night, madam. They say they landed in Elizabethtown, but that the Jersey brigade and militia took them on, and now master will finish the fight, and drive them back into the Hudson, see if they don’t!”
He nodded again, clearly delighted at having been the bearer of such news. It was nothing that hadn’t been expected, even anticipated, and yet still I felt the unwelcome shock of it. The British had invaded New Jersey, and the general was finally determined to engage them. There would be fighting, and bloodshed, and likely lives lost on both sides.
And no matter how hard I’d prayed to the contrary, Alexander would have his wish for another chance at the glory he so craved.
I had to see him before he left, to wish him well and give him my love. One more time, one more time . . .
Swiftly I glanced past the servant to the room that he had shared with the other aides-de-camp. The door was open, but there were no officers within, and only waiters dismantling and packing away the camp beds.
“Where is Colonel Hamilton?” I asked, my voice taut with urgency. “He must still be here, since His Excellency remains in the house.”
The servant made a long face, aware that he hadn’t the answer I sought.
“No, madam, Colonel Hamilton’s already gone on orders,” he said. “I saw him myself on his horse, madam.”
I couldn’t hold back a little cry of dismay, pressing my hand over my mouth. I nodded by way of dismissal, and let him continue on whatever errand he was bound. I shouldn’t be surprised; given how much the general relied upon Alexander, he’d probably sent him ahead as an advance, with all the responsibilities that entailed.
But this meant that there was a very real possibility that I’d never see Alexander again. I wish he hadn’t told me of how reckless and impulsive he was in battle, and I wished I didn’t know of all the times he’d barely escaped with his life. None of those dangerous exploits in his past made this day any easier.
How did women like my mother and Lady Washington, both married for decades to soldiers, remain so stoic in the face of the risk to their husbands? Lady Washington had urged me to be brave and strong, and to place my faith in God and my trust in the man I loved. Wise advice, sage advice, especially since this would most likely be only the first day of many like it while married to Alexander. But oh, how difficult it was going to be to follow!
There was no reason for me to remain here. I wrapped the bottle with the elixir in my handkerchief, tucked it into my pocket for safekeeping, and made my way down the back stairs and from the house. I didn’t know what had become of the soldier who’d brought me there earlier, nor had I any way to find him once again. The walk home was only half a mile; surely I could accomplish that unattended. I narrowly dodged two men with a trunk, and another who growled at me for being in his way. I felt small, insignificant, and very much in the way, and I quickened my pace to escape this place where I did not belong.
But amidst all those voices that meant nothing to me, one suddenly stood out, sweetly familiar and impossibly dear, calling my name. I turned back, and there was Alexander, striding down the house’s steps toward me. I was too stunned to run toward him, too overwhelmed to move.
I’d never seen him in his full uniform with his sword and pistols, too, as martial as any warrior could possibly be. The gold buttons on his coat and the braid on his epaulets glinting in the June sunshine, and his tall black boots and black cocked hat with the black plume stood out in sharp contrast against the white house behind him.
He stopped directly in front of me, smiling, and I realized he was gazing at me as intently as I was with him. Strange to think we both wanted to remember this moment, as if a painter had captured it for us to hold tight and keep forever.
“I haven’t much time,” he said. “Lady Washington told me you’d been here, and I feared I’d missed you.”
“But you didn’t,” I said. “I’m here.”
Now I noticed the servant holding his horse near the door, how he was wearing spurs with his boots, and how his gloves were creased from the reins. He must have returned here to headquarters with a message for His Excellency, and now likely needed to head back to the front as fast as he could.
“Has anyone told you what has happened this morning in Elizabethtown?” he asked, and I nodded. Doubtless he could tell me more, much more, of fortifications and skirmishes and a thousand other military niceties, but I didn’t want these to be the last things I heard from him.
“I know you must go there, too,” I said, rushing my words to say them all before he left. “I know you’ll be brave and honorable and—and everything else you must be for the sake of our country.”
“My own Betsey,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Then you know I’ve no choice but to go.”
“You’ll go because you cannot wait to fight with the others.” I tried to smile, but my mouth seemed unable to turn upward the way I wished it to. “All I ask is that after this day, this battle, this war is finally done, you’ll come back to me, because we have so much to do together. Will you promise me that, Alexander Hamilton? Just—just take care, and come back.”
He didn’t answer, but instead drew me almost roughly into his arms, lifting my feet clear from the ground, and we held each other so tightly I wished that we’d never part.
“I love you,” he said, a promise warm against my ear. “My angel, my love.”
“I love you, too,” I said, “and I always, always will.”