Dear, Hamilton

Laurens gets the job done

As it turns out, Laurens, McHenry, and Hamilton have to leave today, a day earlier than when the three of us Schuyler sisters are leaving, which is tomorrow.

We've lost our allies, and now we are to face the enemy alone.

Their departure is brief because they're in such a hurry to get to Philadelphia. It was McHenry's idea to leave today, and not tomorrow, so I blame him for leaving us to Kitty's attention. I suppose I also blame Washington since he was the one who sent the letter demanding their return in the first place.

After they leave, Kitty has nobody else to turn to for entertainment other than us three Schuyler sisters and Monroe, so she immediately gathers the four of us together and suggests walking around Princeton, the town nearby.

The four of us have no choice but to agree to her wishes because, well, she is our hostess, and it would be rude to say no to her. I try to stay near Angelica and Peggy and away from Monroe as we walk around Princeton's campus, but it's difficult since we're already a small group as it is.

"Say, why is Monroe here at the Livingstone's house?" I ask in a whisper to Angelica as we walk down a gravel path that cuts through a middle green. We're walking a couple paces behind Peggy, Kitty, and Monroe, all of whom seem to be engaged in conversation with each other. 

She purses her lips thoughtfully before answering, "I'm not sure. He might be here to shadow Mr. Livingstone. Isn't Mr. Livingstone in Congress?"

Her answer is met by silence, because I don't know. Didn't Peggy mention him being the governor of New Jersey or something yesterday? Or did I simply imagine that?

When I don't answer, Angelica just concludes with a shrug, "Mr. Monroe might be wanting to get into government."

Well, he's going to be in government, all right. He will be the president to be exact. 

"I heard that Alexander Hamilton was the one whose cannon shot through the building and hit the portrait of King George III," Kitty says, yanking Angelica and my attention towards her. She's walking about three feet in front of us with Monroe and Peggy, hips swaying, eyes cast our way to watch our reactions to her statement.

"Really?" I speak up, taking the bait, and I catch her satisfied smirk at having effectively gained our attention.

She nods and answers, "Yes, it's this building here." 

She stops in front of a building and waves a hand in indication of it. I stop next to her as I read the words above the front door of the building. Nassau Hall. The building has a church-like steeple at the top, and the walls are covered in thick, green ivy. 

Kitty points to a spot between two windows and says, "Look, you can see the indention of a cannon ball in the wall from the Battle of Princeton."

I squint towards the spot she's pointing, and sure enough, there's a dent in the brick! 

"Wow," Peggy says in awe, eyes wide. "Was it really our Hamilton who took out that portrait of King George III?"

Kitty nods confidently before affirming, "It was. He was here, but he wasn't Washington's aide-de-camp yet, I don't think. He was the Captain of the New York Artillery."

I gaze around the campus and realize for the first time how much history is here at Princeton. I mean, there was a revolutionary war battle here, and there's proof of it on the building!

I would've liked to have stood there longer, letting the vastness and significance of such a place seep into me, but Kitty resumes her walk, so I have to start walking too.