Please Note: Historical liberties have been taken throughout this chapter.
I get three weeks at home with my wife before a courier arrives at my door with orders from Washington to report to camp just outside of Yorktown. Angelica embraces me long and hard and kisses me. I mount my new horse, a sturdy brown mare, and ride to the Schuyler mansion. I find Alexander in the stable, securing his saddlebags, and once he's mounted on his horse we ride out. The ride is fast, there is a sense of shared urgency between us.
The moment for the Revolution has come.
Our plan is coming together, Lafayette manages to turn the battle in our favor, and Washington finally gives Alexander a command post, rather than take command I join Alex's regimen, someone needs to watch out for him, and Washington agrees to my request, whether for my influence over Alexander's temperament or the fact that he knows I will keep Alexander safe for Eliza.
We get our orders, Yorktown, 1781. I attend the meetings, acting second to Alexander, I watch as he takes command giving his orders in French and English, and he shines, a born leader, something I always knew, and I'm proud to see it in action.
He gives us the code word that will ignite the battle, "Rochambeau!"
It is a week-long battle, the British cut off by Lafayette and the French fleet, their supplies dwindling as we continue our fight, bullets blazing, cannons firing, men charging.
There is smoke, men falling, wounded and dying everywhere, blood spills, so much red. I stay by Alex's side, a couple of close calls, dragging him from a trench, him leading me, and me guarding him. I will see him safely home, and I will keep my unspoken promise to my wife… Stay alive.
Mulligan's spying pays off, we cut the British off at every corner. The flag of surrender, a white handkerchief, is frantically waved by a young man, barely out of boyhood, and just like that the fight is over.
We spend days tending to our wounded, counting our dead, and all the while Washington and Alexander negotiate the terms of surrender. Once an agreement is made the British are escorted out of Yorktown and to their ships, their shoulders hang in defeat as they load up and set sail on their return to ye merry ol' England.
The streets fill with Americans, yes Americans, in celebration of our victory, our independence. It's a lot to take in. So much fighting, and now something to celebrate.
I stay be Alexander's side as he drafts the beginnings of our nation, Washington takes charge. We see Lafayette off as he makes his way back home to liberate his own country. When enough has been done to establish a foundation, Washington takes us aside, congratulates us for our work in the field, and gives us an order to return home, to celebrate our victory, to look to our wives, to recover. When he needs us he knows where to find us.
When all is said and done, we have been gone for several months, with very little correspondence with our wives.
"What if I get home and she has already had the baby?" Alexander asks as we reach New York. We will be home within an hour.
"You will meet your child. She has Angelica and Peggy at her side, she and the child are in capable hands," I reply.
"I should have written home more," he says, regret and fear evident in his tone.
"It happened so quickly, ended so abruptly. We barely had the time to sleep between negotiations and drafting a basic structure for governance. We need to take some time, and then Washington is sure to call you in to help draft a constitution. We will make it up to them. There is no longer a battlefield to take us from them anymore."
He nods and urges his horse forward to increase her speed. I follow suit and we continue to our destination. We dismount once we reach the Schuyler stables and make our way to the door. We are greeted by the butler, and surprisingly by Philip Schuyler, wide smile on his face.
"It's about time you made it home," he says, and then there is a faint cry that echoes upstairs, a cry that grows louder. Alexander bolts for the stairs. I spare a brief nod of acknowledgment to our shared father-in-law and follow Alex. He takes a right, races to a door, and he throws it open. I come to a halt behind him, Eliza is sitting on the bed, her attention focused on a small cot, and I watch as Alexander comes to a complete stop, the stillest I've ever seen him as a tiny fist rises from the cot while Eliza hums and tries to soothe the child within.
She looks up at us then, and smiles warmly, gets up, and gathers the small baby from the cot. She approaches Alex, and says, "Would you like to meet your son?"
She sounds tired, but she glows with love for her child and Alex. I can't help myself; I draw near as she shows him how to hold the baby and places him in Alex's arms for the first time.
My breath catches at the beautiful sight, how the love fills my Alex's face, I find myself blinking. The child quiets in Alex's arms. Alex turns to me, and I lean down, looking at the infant, dark, bright eyes, young, still a newborn, but the intelligence brimming in those dark eyes, so much like his father already.
"My boy," he says, and Eliza says, "Our Philip, Philip Hamilton."
I reach toward the child, nearly pull back as I realize we are still dirty from our long ride, but the look on Alex's face encourages me and I brush the tiny hand with a fingertip and Philip grabs my finger, squeezes tightly, and I would die for this child if need be.
"I'm your Uncle John," I whisper, and I look up at Eliza, and then around the room, my brow furrowed. With the baby here, surely Angelica would be here as well.
Eliza seems to realize my reason for confusion and says, "She just went home, maybe an hour ago, John. She's been helping with Philip for the past two weeks, and she returns home every night to tend the house. She heard you were returning, and after helping me she is so tired, I begged her to leave early to get her rest for your return."
She's home. I'm quick to say my goodbyes and leave my friend to get acquainted with his son. I can hear Eliza's laughter as I make my leave. I don't even acknowledge my father-in-law as I head back to the stable. The ride home is fast as I put my horse to a gallop.
I barely tie the mare before I make my way to the door and rap on it calling out to Angelica. I can hear her moving around, and when the door is pulled open, I wrap my arms around her, spin her around, my mouth on hers. As I put her down, I realize something, she feels different in my arms.
"Angelica?"
She smiles softly as I release her from the embrace. She reaches for my hand and guides it to her belly, and I blink in shock as our eyes meet, and my mouth pulls itself into a grin.
"Really? I've been gone too long. I missed this. Why didn't you write me about this?" I ask, the disappointment of missing out on discovering her pregnancy together evident.
She cups my cheek and guides my face down to kiss her.
"I know you've been busy, the battle of Yorktown, the terms of surrender, bringing Alex home and staying alive. I wanted to surprise you. We can share this; you'll be here when our baby is born. I'm more than grateful knowing that. Eliza was heartbroken as she went into labor without Alexander there, but she's patiently awaited his return. I imagine you went to my father's house first. Have you seen him, little Philip?"
I nod, as she reaches up to wipe away the trail of tears from my face. "He's beautiful, Angelica, a boy, just like we thought. I just hope we get our little girl," I reply as I caress her swelling belly through her nightdress.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and then we can go to bed. I'm tired, and you look exhausted. I can only imagine how far and hard you've ridden to come home to me," she says, and it's the best idea I've heard in a long time.
I'm so tired. The mare is tied off for the night. I take care of her in the morning. Angelica leads me inside, securing the door behind us, and then she takes my hand and we go to our bedroom. I shed my clothes and she retrieves the washbasin and a cloth, cleaning me of the dirt from the long ride. I'm so tired, a bath will be in order in the morning, but for now, as my wife takes care to wash me, I accept her love and tenderness.
When she deems me clean enough, she puts up the basin and we retreat to our bed. She rolls onto her side, her back to me, and I draw her close, my hand finding the swell of her belly as she settles her head on my other arm. Her hand covers mine as I gently caress the swell and promise of the life we have created.
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