I, Eliza Hamilton. Susan Holloway Scott
Читать онлайн книгу.
you—”
“I’d heard you share an intrigue with Colonel Hamilton,” she said. “His Excellency’s most favored aide-de-camp. That is true, yes?”
“No,” I said quickly, blushing and thinking again of how unsettling it was to be the centerpiece of idle gossip. “That is, yes, Colonel Hamilton serves as a member of the General’s Family at headquarters, and yes, I am honored to consider him a dear friend, but there is no ‘intrigue’ to our connection.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, leaning forward with more animation than before. “My husband has only the highest praise for Colonel Hamilton, for his intelligence and his cleverness, and his devotion to the general. But then, that is only to be expected, isn’t it, considering Colonel Hamilton’s illustrious patrimony.”
I frowned. “I fear you’re mistaken, Mrs. Arnold. Colonel Hamilton has achieved much, but through his own industry and the support of his friends, not his father, a Scottish gentleman long absent from his life.”
“Your reticence is admirable, Miss Schuyler,” she said with an archness that made me uneasy. “But you needn’t be so discreet with me. The truth is widely known here in Philadelphia, and explains much of the general’s fondness for Colonel Hamilton.”
“I have told you the truth as I have heard it from Colonel Hamilton himself,” I said, ready to defend Alexander in whatever way necessary. “There is no other, Mrs. Arnold.”
She smiled slyly. “But there is, isn’t it? Everyone has heard how the colonel is the general’s natural son, conceived while His Excellency was visiting the Caribbean long ago. They see the obvious resemblance in the same coppery hair, the same line to his jaw, and you cannot deny how His Excellency positively dotes upon Colonel Hamilton, favoring him as if he truly were the son he never sired with Lady Washington.”
“Hush, madam, please!” I exclaimed, not so much scandalized by what she said as shocked that she’d repeat such ill-founded gossip. “Colonel Hamilton His Excellency’s son! That goes beyond tattle to purest slander, and I will not hear another word. Good day, Mrs. Arnold.”
I rose to leave, but she caught my arm.
“Forgive me, Miss Schuyler, I beg you,” she said, her head meekly bowed and her voice so contrite that I heard the tremble of tears in it. “Please don’t leave yet. If I spoke rashly, it was from my desperate desire to assist my husband in any way that I might. Please stay, Miss Schuyler, and help me to help my husband.”
Reluctantly I sat, though I kept to the very edge of the chair. “How can I possibly help General Arnold?”
“By asking Colonel Hamilton to use his influence with General Washington on my husband’s behalf,” she begged. “All my husband desires is another command or post, another chance to serve and prove his worth. Is that so much to ask for an officer who has already given so much?”
I remembered how Papa had said that General Arnold had been so grievously injured at the Battle of Saratoga (so near to our own house) that he’d nearly lost his leg, and that he’d never fully recover from the wound to the point that he could ride or walk with ease again. That was indeed a sacrifice, and I relented.
“I can promise nothing,” I warned. “But I will share your plight with Colonel Hamilton in the event that he has the opportunity to set it before the general.”
“I cannot begin to thank you enough.” Her face relaxed, and for the first time she seemed her age, a young woman of only nineteen years cast into a difficult situation with a new baby and an absent husband. “All I can offer in return are my wishes for your own happiness and prosperity.”
“Thank you,” I said, preparing to take my leave. “You do me honor, Mrs. Arnold. I wish the same to you and your husband, and your dear little son as well.”
“Yes,” she said, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. “Yes. I can also offer you and Colonel Hamilton some hard-won advice, for you to take or not, as you please. If Colonel Hamilton can show my husband this small favor, his kindness will not be forgotten. He is most obviously a gentleman and an officer of promise, and his talents shouldn’t be squandered to his disadvantage. You have been at Morristown, Miss Schuyler. You have observed the despair and disarray of this country’s army for yourself, and the confusion of its leaders. Sometimes we ladies must see more clearly, and act to preserve the gentlemen we love.”
I thanked her one last time and departed. I did wish her well, for she seemed a lady in need of good fortune, as my father had said. It wasn’t until later that day, as I took time alone with my needlework, that I considered more closely her last little speech to me. The longer I thought upon her words, the more disturbing I found them. She wished her husband to return to active duty with the army. So why, then, had she faulted that same army? Alexander already had the highest esteem of His Excellency. Why should she say he was squandering his talents by serving his country? And what exactly was she counseling me to do?
I shared my worries the next morning at breakfast with Papa, but he swiftly brushed them aside as being of little lasting consequence.
“As you saw for yourself, she is a lady in sore need of comfort and compassion,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “Her father remains a Tory with sympathies to the Crown, and he was not pleased with her marriage to Arnold. His friends were equally surprised when he found favor with her, a wealthy lady almost half his age, and many continue to suspect her allegiances. She is caught between her loyalties to her father and her husband, poor lady, and tries to serve them both as best she can. You saw that yourself.”
“I did,” I said thoughtfully. Perhaps that was explanation enough for her curious speech; I couldn’t imagine marrying a gentleman under such difficult circumstances. “She must love General Arnold mightily.”
“I pray that she does, for she has sacrificed a great deal to be his wife,” Papa said. “Although I do not wish to raise false hopes, I am already planning to speak to His Excellency regarding a post for General Arnold as commander of our fortifications at West Point. It would be a good position for him, and it would be wise for the army to have an experienced officer so many consider a hero in command of a prominent location. Governor Livingston—your friend Kitty’s father—agrees with me, too.”
“Do you believe His Excellency will also agree?” I asked, still unsure whether I should wish him to or not.
Papa sighed, holding out his cup to the servant to be refilled. He was always unwaveringly loyal to soldiers who had served with him; I recognized the trial this must be for him.
“I do not know, Eliza,” he said. “This is not to be repeated, but I know for a fact that His Excellency was displeased by Arnold’s behavior, acquittal or not. There’s no doubt that the man was indiscreet, and took advantage of his post as military commander for his own profit.”
“So he should not have been acquitted?” I asked. “He was in fact guilty?”
Papa’s brows drew together and his expression turned as stern as granite in what my sisters and I called his “general face.”
“He was found not guilty,” he said. “That was the verdict of his fellow officers in the court-martial, and that is how it shall always stand. The verdict cannot be questioned. But the very fact that Arnold was compelled to defend himself grieved His Excellency, who expects his officers to act in a manner that is beyond reproach, as gentlemen should.”
I nodded, and my sympathy for Peggy Arnold and her husband rose. I had always found General Washington to be a daunting figure, and if I were one of his officers, I’d never have wanted to earn any measure of his displeasure.
I thought this would be the end of my father’s explanation, but to my surprise he continued.
“I have heard that His Excellency’s unhappiness is the reason he plans to issue a formal reprimand of Arnold, which will make the West Point post more difficult,” he said. “But likely Colonel Hamilton will be able to tell you far more than I.”
“Should