Valley Forge

Chapter XXI

Long Chapter

Sunday, February 15, 1779

When I woke, the clouds were scurrying to cover the late-afternoon sun. The food and sleep had drained the befuddlement from my head. It hurt when I stood up, but I could see and think clearly.

A stocky lad carrying a jar and a dirty polishing rag entered the kitchen of Moore Hall. He was taller than me but not too many years older maybe twenty-one. His eyes were set far apart from each other and bulged a bit, like a frog's. His shoes were polished, both the leather and the fat pewter buckles. Spotless white stockings fit tight to his calves. His breeches were black wool and appeared tailored to his form. He wore a tobacco-colored waistcoat over a linen shirt as white as the snow outside, the sleeves of it rolled up so that he might work without making it dirty. Had his skin been white, I would figgered him for a manservant, working for one of the congressmen. As his skin was dark, it was likely he was a slave it made my heart wrench.

"Your father will see you now." He said.

The request was not long enough for me to reckon where he came from New England, The South, The middle states. Or across the ocean.

"My name is Aliana," I said, "You?"

He moved a wooden crate across the room.

"How'd you come to be here?" I asked

He placed the crate down, "I was sent to fetch ya, not to stand about jawing." 

"Who is your master?"

He folded the rag and set it aside and a large exhale came from his mouth "You will follow me."

He led me to a dining room converted to be a useful place for the men of the Congress. Mirrors were hung opposite the windows to strengthen the last rays of the sun. Dim the portraits glared down from the walls lit by the guttering candles in wax-covered sconces. The long table was completely covered with books, half-burnt candlesticks, hills of papers, and an enormous map. I oh so wanted to read all the words to fill the books and papers.

The room was cold, the fire dying.

Bellingham sat at the far end of the table. "Ah," he said,  looking up from the papers before him. "Resurrected at last. Fetch some wood for the fire, Samual; The maid has neglected it again."

Samual was this fellow's name. He nodded and gave a courteous "Sir"  before gliding through the door and closing it behind him without a sound.

Bellingham set down his pen and waved me closer. "Let e see what damage that baffoon did to your skull."

I walked the length of the table, bent at the waist so he could peer at my head, then stood again.

"You'll heal," he said. "It's not deep."

I said nothing.

He sat back in the chair and sighed. "This is for the best you'll see that in time."

I stared, imagining his wrists in shackles.

"We're crowded here, but its better than that frozen hovel on the hill. You'll have a decent dress and food."

He waited for a reply, but still, I said nothing. Any words I spoke would surely earn me a fierce beating; I did not yet have control of my mouth or temper.

The silence of the room was broken by Samuel, who entered carrying a scant armload of firewood. He deposited by the hearth and knelt to revive the fire, but Bellingham waved him away.

"Leave that" Bellingham said. "Remind the cook that the gentlemen will be hungry when they arrive and that she ought to heat up some wash water for Aliliana"

Samuel stood and inclined his head. "Yes, sir."

Bellingham waited until he had again disappeared, he stretched his arms above his head once and yawned.

"The maid takes care of the mending and washing and whatever else is needed."

My mouth remained locked. I would not be goaded into conversating with him, to act all was well and natural.

"Samuel is on loan to the committee from one of the congressmen in York.  He has struggled to properly serve the five of us. Your help will be most welcomed. He'll show you the lay of the house and explain our routines. It will be much like our time in New York with more coats to brush and boots to clean."

He speared a cold potato with his fork and bit it. "Where is that blasted boy? Would you attend the fire, Ali? If we wait for him to do it. We'll surely freeze."

I crossed to the hearth and picked up the fire poker, a length of iron as thick as two gingers and as long as my arm. I could crack his skull with one hard blow. But I was still barefooted and half starve. Even if I outran the guards, I'd perish of the cold. I had to soldier my temper. For now.

I knelt and poked the dying coals.

"I function as an aide to the committee of Congress," Bellingham said proudly as if I'd inquired about his position. "It was a stroke of genius to become as close as I did to Morris those last months in New York. Youll remember him: Young chap, flirts shamelessly? Rich as Anna. Serve him first, always then Low, for he has the ear of General Washington. Then me. The other two are good enough, but they cannot help my plans,"

I arranged the wood above the coals in a crisscross fashion.  "Morris has hinted I might be appointed to head up the commissary on account of my mercantile experience. At the very least, I ought to become a person of rank within one of the divisions responsible for supplying the army. I need your ears again, Ali. Listen in on any and all conversations, Particularly when Morris and Low meet with anyone from headquarters."

I ignored him and blew on the coals to revive them. A few weeks was all I needed. In that time, I'd learn the habits of the gentlemen; who were tidy, who was forgetful, Who carried coin upon himself and who left it in his chamber. I'd eat everything I could to strengthen myself for the escape. When the right moment presented itself. I'd know who to steal from, how, and in which direction to flee.

The coals glowed red. There was a quiet knock on the door. 

"Enter," Bellingham said.

The door opened "The manservant, sir." Samuel announced

"Perfect" Bellingham stated. "That's all,"

I blew again as the maid stepped softly across the floor. I would not alert Samuel to my plan. There was something about his manner I did not trust. Sparks finally popped. 

Bellingham continued the conversation with himself, "Morris arranged my position assisting the Congress." He chuckled "Had two rooms all to myself near the City Tavern-far nicer than this. I bought a sturdy mare for fifteen pounds"

The coal burst into flame

"Oh di stand up, Ali" Bellingham said. "I can hardly introduce him to your backside, can I?"

I stood brushing the ashes and wood grit from my hands. 

Time stopped. The room was so still, I could hear voices arguing in the kitchen. Heavy footsteps on the floor above. The crackle of fire eating wood. Horses approaching on the camp road.

"I recognized him right away, of course," Bellingham reached for the last potato, The times of his frock screeched wickedly across the plate "He's from your mother's side, helped us remember?"

no, no, no, no, no, no, no . . .

Candlelight caught the rage in his eyes 

'Twas was Benny.

*Pewter Buckles; A belt buckle is a buckle, a clasp for fastening two ends, such as of straps or a belt, 

*Fifteen Pounds (1779); 2,684.75 Pounds (2018)