Which, fortunately, we knew.
Aunt Gertrude was a little sour at being suspected, considering that she came often to visit Mrs. Washington and the guards knew her well. “I assure you that there aren’t any deadly knitting needles in my basket.”
But Angelica was thrilled, or at least a little flattered, by their zealotry. “Well, I think it was very handsomely done, gentlemen. After all, women can be dangerous, too, and important to the entire American enterprise. Our revolution is already remaking everyone’s way of looking at the world, and you are very forward-thinking fellows.”
With a blush at her compliment, the guards allowed us entrance to the house, where we tromped up the stairs to the door. We would’ve liked a moment to straighten our hair and our ribbons and make ourselves presentable. Which was why, I suppose, we were so startled when the icy door flung open, and a short, plump little woman with dark brown eyes appeared in the doorway.
Given her plain white cap, brown homespun gown, and bespeckled apron, I might have been forgiven for having confused her with the housekeeper. But whence from her lips fell a soft southern drawl, I knew better. “Why, come in from the cold,” said Martha Washington, drawing us into the comfortable circle of chairs before the fire.
Though she was nearly fifty, and a bit snowy haired, she was still handsome, albeit very plainly dressed for such a grand lady as I considered her. One of her Negro servants fetched us a steaming pot of sassafras tea while I presented to Mrs. Washington a little gift of lace cuffs.
“Oh, these are so well made,” she said. “Very fine work. I shall treasure them.” But no sooner had she thanked me than did she return to knitting a pair of socks. “A clean, dry sock is a luxury for the soldiers. There’s always so much to be done for them . . .”
“All the more difficult with everyone so crowded together,” Aunt Gertrude said, her eyes lifting to the cadre of young officers coming in and out with papers and satchels.
Mrs. Washington nodded, her hands never stopping at their work. “The general likes to keep here in this house his little military family. His aides all bunk together. If I go a day without mending something for one of them, I’m astonished, but I can scarcely complain, given how hard they labor.”
“I’d be happy to be put to work,” I said, reaching for a basket of mending by her feet.
“Well, aren’t you a sweet girl,” Mrs. Washington replied. “But I cannot imagine you came to camp for a life of drudgery. I daresay a number of gentlemen will be glad for your company, my dear girls. Amongst them, colonels McHenry, Tilghman, Harrison, and Hamilton, who—”
She was interrupted by the sound of chairs scraping on the floorboards as my sister and aunt quickly rose to their feet. Kitty and I were slower to stand, and then we saw the tall Virginian who commanded our attention—and our armies.
At the sight of George Washington in full uniform, wearing tall black riding boots and a black cape, my fingers went nervously to straighten my tousled, half-frozen hair.
Meanwhile Kitty, who’d once requested—and received—a lock of the great man’s hair as a token, clutched at the pendant that held it, her usual sophisticated demeanor all aflutter. I would never have been so bold as to ask for a lock of the man’s hair, so I had nothing to clutch but my sister’s hand.
Washington bowed to us and, upon a curtsy, I retrieved from my cloak and delivered into his hand a letter of introduction from my father. But he didn’t open it. “You need no introduction, Miss Schuyler,” Washington said, glancing at Angelica, who remained, as was her way, perfectly composed. “In the short time she’s been with us, the enchanting Mrs. Carter has already painted such a good portrait of her sensible and saintly sister that there is not an officer amongst us who would not know Elizabeth Schuyler on sight.”
Hearing him say my name, I flushed and went speechless. Not even Angelica’s encouraging squeeze of my hand could seem to make my tongue untie itself. Finally, I managed to murmur, “We’re glad to have arrived safely, Your Excellency.”
If Washington noticed we were swooning from the excitement of his presence, he didn’t let on. “T’was wonderful of you to have braved the journey. Can I expect the pleasure of seeing your father soon? Schuyler’s perfect knowledge of the resources of the country, his good temper, and his sound military sense make me wish, above all things, that he would join us here.”
To hear Washington speak so warmly of my father emboldened me. “I’m sure Papa would hasten forth at your summons, Your Excellency.”