Valley Forge

Chapter XXIII

Sunday, February 15, 1778

I passed Samuel in the hall. He was carrying a tray of wine glasses and a bottle to the newly arrived gentlemen.

"Pardon me," I started. "Do you know-"

He walked passed me without a word.

The kitchen was crowded with so many tables, chairs, crates, and kegs that there was hardly room to turn around. The walls were filled with shelf after shelf of fat ceramic jars, green glass bottles, boxes of cutlery and spices, crockery plates, and wooden bowls. Extra chairs hung from hooks on the beams where the wall met the ceiling. Four pots bubbled over the flames in the hearth, and the lid covering a massive pan peeked out from the heap of glowing coals.

Most curious of all was the bird sitting in a cage on the table closest to the fire. It was the size of a small crow, but wore brilliantly colored yellow, green and blue feathers and was possessed of a ferocious beak it was using to open a walnut

An old lady maybe paler than I come out of the pantry carrying a smoked ham.

I bowed hastily. "Good day, ma'am. Can you tell me where I can find Benny? Mister Bellingham's manservant?"

"That one?" She heaved the ham onto a board and limped to the other side of the room. "What do you want him for?"

"Uh," I stammered. "To become better acquainted with my duties. Here."

The woman grunted, pulled a stool over to the shelves, and climbed up onto it, her limbs shaking. I rushed over before she fell. "May I please help, ma'am?"

She studied me, her blue eyes clouded with age. "I need that knife box up there."

"Of course." 

She put out a hand so I could help her safely find the ground and watched as I took down the box and set it by the ham.

"That Benjamin"-she took a large knife from the box-"The wagon just took him back to headquarters. They needed help with something." She sliced off a bit of the ham and tossed it in the cage. The bird snatched the meat in its beak than gave a low whistle "Cheeky devil," She said to the creature.

"Mister Bellingham hired him out?"

"Hires anyone out every chance he gets. This camp has too many gentlefolk and not enough servants. Poll down a plate for me, will you? And a bowl please?" 

She piled ham slices on the plate I handed her, then back to me, "Eat." A toothless smile softened her direct manner of speech.

 She did not have to say it twice. I sat, grabbed a fork. speared a piece of the meat, and stuffed it into my mouth, The taste was indescribable but better than that was the satisfying sensation of swallowing, and then the luxury of another and another piece waiting on my plate.

"I don't imagine you'll be hired out," She said "After all your a woman, you need a bath and a dress. are you useful at all? Do you have a trade? The Artisans are desperate, I hear. 'Specially the gunsmiths" She filled the bowl with soup from a pot hanging over the fire and set it next to my plate.

This could be the downfall of our escape, he will be constantly hired out when will be able to run.

"When will he return?" I asked.

She continued slicing and chuckled. "You girls find love in the strangest places."

"No ma'am," I said "He's family, It's just-"

"Don't you worry none." She reached across the table and patted the back of my hand. "I raised Ten Daughters and a plethora of sons, and grandsons. I know a few things about lads, I do. He'll return, especially for family."

My mouth opened, but for the life of me, I could not think of a lie. The colorful bird gave a tremendous squeak as if laughing at my discomfort.

"Shssh, now." Missues cook tossed more ham in the cage.  "Keep that noise and I'll bake you in a pie, I swear." 

I seized upon the interruption to direct the lady's attention away from Benny and I, "If I may, ma'am, what manner of bird is that?"

"My son Alexander claims it is a parrot. Won it in a card game, he did. Says I ought to call it King  George, so he can order it about when the war is over." She gave the soup over the fire a stir. "Alexander is a fine cardplayer, Lord forgives him. Have you heard of him? Alexander Farnsworth Cook of the fifth Pennsylvania Regiment? The blasted fool is too old to be in the army, but he won't listen to his mother or his wife."

I wiped my mouth "I only know one Alexander, and his final name is Hamilton, and I've only met him on a couple accounts, we've never talked. But Lord knows how that man encourages women, only seen from afar though." 

She limped back to the table and picked up her knife again, and she chuckled. "Oh Martha Washington named a cat after him 'Sir General Hamilton the tomcat'" 

*Artisans;  worker in a skilled trade, especially one that involves making things by hand.

  (A/N): I'm not sure where to end this book, and If I were to make an actual 'Hamilton Fanfic who would it be with?