Becoming a Founding "Father"- Historical Hamilton

Chapter Thirteen: The Delaware River

The mission was a complete success, Alexander claimed. Twenty-one out of the the twenty-four cannons were stolen, one British soldier killed, a few injured and zero casualties.

"When your brother says casualties, he means deaths, or fatal injuries," Mulligan said when I asked. We both stood by the side, watching Hamilton sing his heart out and dance around the room in excitement. I hum, amused. "No Patriot deaths is what he intended to say."

I wanted to ask another question, but Alexander dragged me into his whirlwind of joy by the hand, turning me round and round. "Washington said yes! Washington said yes!"

Oh right, Washington. He's not the president, but, from what I've heard, he's the face of the Continental army, and in turn, this whole movement. So, in other words, the president.

 He's George Washington, and I just left it at that.

Anyway, a letter came in from some general-  John Lamb, I think- telling us that he was so impressed by Alexander's leadership  that he wrote to Washington, recommending him to command an artillery unit, and Washington- literally George Washington- said yes.

"Oh my stars, this is incredible!" He laughed joyfully, a stark difference to when he was offered a position to be Nathaniel Greene's aide-de-camp, and another offer to be a Major. For someone who really wants to be noticed, it's strange that he would be so ecstatic for much less than he was offered. 

"Solomon, I don't want to be an aide-de-camp," He said when the letter from Nathaniel Greene arrived. "I wish to fight, and I am perfectly capable of doing so. If I have to stay where I am now to engage in combat, than so be it."

For someone who is so literate, he really didn't like to work for anyone. Unless that was Washington, apparently. Honestly, I'm not surprised, anyone would be willing to work for Washington, I realised.

Of course, Alexander asked- no, demanded, me to come with him. I agreed much quicker than last time, mainly because the only difference between this and the musket unit was that I get paid more. Oh, and that Alex could wear some fancy blue uniform now. I still couldn't, not being a captain and all. Disappointing.

"Lookin' good, Captain Hamilton," I said when he put on the uniform for the first time. The uniform was slightly too big for him, but it wasn't anything that Mulligan couldn't fix. "My lord, I'm a captain..." His eyes basically sparkled, and honestly he looked adorable. I know that he didn't know jack shit about cannons, something that we'll be given, but I'm not worried- the books on his table- that I'm sure are studied very thoroughly- tell me that he'll be fine.

I laughed and hugged him from behind, happy that I'm still by his side after all this time. He laughed, too. "You, of all people, deserve this, Alex."

"Do not try to sour my mood with your names, Solomon, it will not work."

"That's what you get for having such a long name."

"Hypocrisy at its finest." From that day on, the nickname 'Sol' had become much more apparent. I didn't like it- it sounded way too much like Soul, which sounds like something an alien would name itself to fool humans that it has a soul- but my pride didn't allow me to say that.

Becoming a captain of an artillery gave Alexander even more paperwork,  more than should be humanly possible, but Alexander never complained- that's both a strength and a weakness. I worry for him, to the point where I steal some of his paperwork and do it myself. My imitation of his writing is a bit wonky, and the phrasing may be slightly off, but it gets the point across.

It's a surprise he hadn't noticed yet. I guess the stress of officially being in the army got to him. 

I also am technically part of the army, but my status was way below Alexander, as I do work under him- officially, at least. It didn't take a genius to see that he though of me as an equal, or his right hand- uh- man.