and the streets and roads were so thickly covered that by midday no outward signs remained that these passageways had ever existed. Even the very birds in the trees were quieted by the snow, and all around us was muffled in icy white silence.
Muffled, and cut off from the larger world around us, too. The snow was too deep and treacherous for man or horse to traverse, and I pitied the poor sentries standing guard in such weather. Everyone else kept within doors and away from the frost-iced windows, and did not venture far from their fires.
There was no question of Alexander calling upon me, yet still I was impatient to see him again. How could I not be? As I sat and knitted more caps for the soldiers, I imagined him in the crowded quarters of Mrs. Ford’s house a mere quarter of a mile away, sitting at the long table that served as a desk for the aides-de-camp and continuing to write His Excellency’s orders, transcribe his letters, coordinate his meetings, arrange his messengers, and perhaps even tally the expenses for the cavalry’s horses. The work of the army’s headquarters would not stop even in a snowstorm, though nothing could be sent until the roads again were passable.
Yet I also pictured Alexander later in the evening, after the general and the other aides had retired to their beds. Bent over his desk with a tallow candle for light, he’d be writing still, but at that hour the words would be his own.
And to my joy, they’d be meant for me.
Ever since my aunt had permitted Alexander to hand me that first letter, he had launched a veritable barrage of missives my way, so many that I could scarce keep up my replies. He was my soldier-poet, and oh, the sweet words that were in his arsenal for winning me! His letters were like him, brilliant and beautiful and rich with ideas and, yes, with love. Some were short, scarcely a sentence or two written in haste, and others were worthy of the greatest writers in our language. I cherished them all. In his letters, I was his dearest girl, his angel, his happiness, his charmer, but above all I was simply his Betsey, his Eliza. What more, truly, could I ask?
The storm’s last flake had scarcely fallen when Alexander again appeared at our door, his greatcoat covered with snow and his face flushed with the cold. As can be imagined, I greeted him as warmly as if we’d been separated for months, not days. I’d never claimed to possess a sentimental nature, but it did seem that our fondness for each other had strengthened with that first kiss, as if the very moon herself had blessed our love. From that time onward, I could not imagine myself with another man as my one love and husband, nor did I wish to.
Over the next weeks, and whenever the snows and the General permitted, we stole as much time together as was possible. While we attended several frolics and wintery amusements such as sleighing in the company of Kitty and several of my other friends as well as various officers from headquarters, I preferred the occasions when Alexander and I could be alone together. Aunt Gertrude had decided that he had proven himself worthy of me, and relaxed her more stringent rules. I was now permitted to sit with him unaccompanied in the front room of the Campfields’ house in the evening (though the door must be kept open), and to bid him farewell alone in the hall. When Lady Washington invited me to tea, she made sure that Alexander would be spared from his duties long enough to take a dish with me, too. I was allowed to walk with him along the narrow paths carved into the snow, and if during those walks a kiss or two was exchanged, no one took notice.
It was also during these long walks that I began to realize the extent of his restless brilliance. While we spoke of a shared future together, as every couple will, our conversations were also deeper and more philosophical than most. It was Alexander’s nature to speak more than I, and I happily listened, for he’d more ideas in a day than most mortal men have in a lifetime.
Hand in hand, he told me his plans for the country’s future, of the rare opportunities—and possible perils—that would await our land once the war was won (which even in that grim winter, he never doubted would happen). Unlike most young gentlemen I’d known who seemed obsessed only with the battles at hand, Alexander looked ahead. He thought of new ways of government and ruling and new notions of finance, schemes and contrivances so magnificent and grand and important that I listened in awe as he recounted them.
I couldn’t begin to match his knowledge, but I did ask many questions as they came to me, wanting to understand the things that interested him most, and learn new things for myself as well. In turn my eager attention pleased him, and he said that the process of explaining these things to me helped clarify them in his own head. Although we didn’t realize it then, we’d unwittingly fallen into the pattern of discussion that we’d continue for the rest of our lives together, and I dare to believe that in this way I encouraged him in his achievements.
We were also creating the kind of partnership that I’d always witnessed in my parents’ marriage. Mamma had taught me that to be a loving wife and a thorough, supportive helpmate to my husband was the surest course to contentment for any woman, while Papa for his part had always regarded my mother with unerring kindness, devotion, and respect. That I had found the same qualities in a gentleman as charming, as witty, and as handsome as Alexander was to me the rarest good fortune in the world.
It became accepted throughout the town and the camp that an understanding existed between us. Other men no longer asked me to dance at the assemblies, and the former gossip of Alexander’s rakish dalliances ceased, too, with his name now linked only to mine. As can be imagined in so small a community, this led to a great deal of good-natured jesting on the subject, and we both were accused of being love-struck and addled by Cupid’s darts.
Neither of us could deny it.
Given all this, it was no real wonder that as the days grew longer and February slipped into March, Alexander and I agreed that it was time for him to write to my father. I was already well aware of how high Alexander stood in Papa’s favor and had no doubt that he’d give his blessing to our union.
Alexander, however, had no such confidence, and labored long in composing this letter, which he rightly called the most important of his life. His uneasiness only increased when Papa didn’t reply at once, but said he first must defer to my mother. Further, he announced that he’d taken a house here in Morristown to better survey the state of the army for his reports to Congress, and also to be nearer to me.
“Your father doesn’t trust me, Eliza,” Alexander said gloomily as we sat together one evening. “Instead of granting his consent, he’s coming here to defend you against the friendless, penniless suitor who dares ask for your hand.”
“Hush,” I scolded gently. “That’s not his reasoning at all, Alexander. You know his friendship with His Excellency, and how hard he strives to present the army’s needs to Congress. It makes perfect sense for him to be here in Morristown now, as the plans are being made for the summer campaigns.”
He shook his head and restlessly tapped the hilt of his sword.
“I don’t deny that those things are part of his reasoning,” he admitted. “But you know that the general is sending me to Amboy next week to negotiate the exchange of prisoners. I could be gone a fortnight, even longer, and I hate leaving you here with so much undecided. Why hasn’t your father replied? Why is he taking so long?”
“Because he wishes to consult with my mother first,” I said. “Among Dutch families, mothers have as much say as fathers in determining their children’s marriages. He is in Philadelphia, while she remains in Albany, and you know how slowly letters travel at this time of year.”
He grumbled wordlessly like a restive dog. “I can understand why Carter persuaded your sister to elope with him, if he was forced to suffer this same misery.”
Although he hadn’t asked for more coffee, I refilled his cup from the pot beside me. I’d already
