Spirit of the Nation ★ Female America

2. Of the People

October 11, 1777

Featherbed Inn

Philidelphia, United States

The morning sun woke me from a fitful night of sleep. Eyelids fluttering, I raised my hand to shield my eyes. Sunlight streamed through the tiny window of my room at the inn.

The wooden floor was frigid and stung my bare feet. After so many months of the same ritual, I had gotten used to it. I crossed my arms over my thin, drafty shift and stood. Fighting off a shiver, I crossed the room to scrape out the fireplace. Ten minutes later, a small fire crackled to life.

I hooked a pot of water over the fire to boil. As I waited, I impatiently dipped in clean cloths to clean myself. The wetness cooled quickly on my skin, and I hissed and leaned closer to the fire. By the time I was pulling on my wool stockings, the fire was roaring and the room was warm. I took my time putting on my skirts, buttoning up my bodice, and buckling my shoes.

After a breakfast of boiled coffee grounds and stale bread, I used the small mirror on the vanity to style my hair. I pooled it on top of my head and pinned it securely in place. Attempting to copy the fashionable ladies of Philadelphia, I pulled out some small hairs to frame my face.

As I left the inn, I tucked my hair behind my ears self-consciously.

The morning frost had melted in the sun, creating muddy streets for horses and slippery boardwalks for pedestrians. Though Main Street was usually busy, today it was eerily quiet. Bustling carriages had been replaced by patrols of British soldiers. Eager shoppers had been replaced by anxious Loyalists. Today marked the city's second week under British occupation, and more than half the population had already fled to the outskirts, or, if they were lucky, to New York—a stronghold of Patriots.

My eyes darted from patrol to patrol as I made my way to the market. Despite my best efforts, my heart hammered in my chest whenever I came too close. The British Empire was the most powerful nation on the face of the earth. The United States was the newest...and the weakest.

I tried to stay focused on my simple task of buying food.

When a stray redcoat passed by me on the boardwalk, we accidentally made eye contact. He looked through me like I wasn't even there. His eyes were green.

"Whoa, there!"

I stumbled back and gasped. In my distraction, I had bumped into a strange gentleman.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," I said, eyes downcast.

"Not at all," replied a familiar voice. I looked up in shock. "I...could it be...?"

"M—Mr. Hamilton!"

His eyes danced with joy as he took off his hat. "America," he breathed somberly. "What an immense pleasure this is, madam."

My eyes darted to the side. "Please, refrain from using my name here..."

Hamilton balked. "And mine," he muttered. "For the present, I shall be 'John' and you shall be..."

I pursed my lips. "'Mary'?"

He bowed at the waist as he replaced his hat. "Mary."

We fell into step together as I nervously clasped my hands. "What on Earth are you doing here?" I asked.

He walked on my right side, shielding me from the street and the soldiers. I felt more in that moment than I had all month—the presence of a real Patriot made me feel truly alive.

"I could ask you the same," he digressed. "Still conducting Mr. Franklin's assignment?"

I sealed my lips.

Franklin's exact words echoed in my mind: "If we are to be a nation of the people, our Nation must live among the people and learn their ways. Discreetly." With his departure to France and the subsequent occupation of the city, I had continued my duties with increasing uncertainty.

"Yes," I mumbled.

Hamilton made a sound of acknowledgment. "We feared as much. The General has sent me to deliver you to New York."

I nodded.

My lack of enthusiasm seemed to confound him. "Is that...agreeable to you?"

I glanced over and forced a smile. "It is just as well."

His footsteps came to a sudden halt. "Madam, you need only say the destination and I shall bring you there," he said, all seriousness.

My gaze wavered as my worst fear surfaced in my mind. "Mis...John," I began, swallowing thickly. "I feel...I feel as though I'm a mere observer of the war. I feel...not right. I feel...unworthy."

His eyes softened in understanding. "I know the feeling."

I bowed my head and held my elbows. Going to New York would be my new duty, and I would serve it well. Escaping the British occupation would quell my rash feelings, and everything would be—

The sudden clap of Hamilton's hands startled me.

"I've just had a flash of ingenuity," he told me excitedly. "Winter is approaching. I plan to camp with General Washington in Virginia all winterlong. I entreat you to accompany me."

I blinked in utter surprise.

"Washington shall have your protection ensured, and you shall prove yourself to the Revolution a hundred times over. Nay, a thousand times over!"

I clasped my hands to the spark of hope inside my chest. Even as I set my mind to it, I imagined Franklin's displeasure with such a foolhardy plan. A large smile grew on my face.

"I shall do it."

~

A/N: As a Hamilton fan, I couldn't resist this cameo! What do you think so far?