Tempest at Dawn (54 page)

Baldwin stretched his legs. “I’m glad no one
else chose this coach.”

“
I bought the remaining seats,”
Hamilton said.

“
What?” Baldwin looked askance at
Hamilton. “Why?”

“
So we can have a private ride. New
York can afford it.”

“
A true New Yorker. You rape the
public treasury for your own comfort,” Baldwin said.

“
I felt the expense worthwhile so we
could discuss the convention.” Sherman saw a foreshadowing smile
grow on Hamilton face. “But don’t get your hopes up; I purchased
the seats only to New York.”

“
You miser,” Baldwin blustered. “You
said you were in my debt. You could have considered our comfort
after you departed our company.”

“
I’m a royalist. You, on the other
hand, are men of the people. I thought you should meet
some.”

“
With pleasure,” Baldwin said. “I
prefer the common sense of the common man.”

“
I strive to avoid the common,”
Hamilton said with surprising earnestness.

“
Roger, tell this Tory he should be
mixing with the masses before he ordains himself architect of our
new republic.”

Sherman was enjoying the trip, and he felt
even better when the predictable sway of the coach signaled they
were making good time on decent road.

After a few hours, the coach rolled to an abrupt
stop, and Sherman felt the driver dismount. Soon the door snapped
opened to reveal a grizzled face that didn’t bother with
pleasantries. “You have a half hour to eat. I leave on time. If you
dally in the privy, you’ll spend the night here.”

As they dismounted, Hamilton said, “One of the
commoners you’re so fond of.”

Baldwin ignored the gibe and headed for the yard
behind the tavern. “I’ll meet you men inside.”

“
Be swift. I’ve traveled this route many
times, and I don’t recommend that privy.”

“
God, I hate traveling,” Baldwin said to
himself as he walked away.

Sherman inhaled the fresh country air. He could see
nothing in either direction but a rough-hewn road that tore a gash
between unending fields of trees. As soon as they had planted their
feet on solid ground, a tavern liveryman drove the coach over to
rickety shelter to change horses. The tavern itself was a clapboard
affair that looked in dire need of repair.

“
Did you bring food?” Hamilton
asked.

“
No.”

“
A mistake. The fare at this desolate tavern
is invariably a rancid stew made with suspect meat and vegetables
boiled to an indiscernible mush.”

“
I’m not hungry.”

“
Then I’ll reward you with a pear. I recommend
we eat outside.”

“
Dank inside?”

“
The tavern reeks of their perpetual stew pot,
the sweat of men oblivious to even elementary hygiene, and decades
of harsh tobacco.”

“
You’ve convinced me. Let’s sit on that fallen
tree across the road.”

When Baldwin emerged from behind the building, he
failed to notice the men on the other side of the road and walked
into the tavern. He spent only a few minutes inside and emerged
with a wooden bowl and an oversized spoon. Looking around, he
finally spotted Sherman and Hamilton on the log across the way.

As he took a seat next to Sherman, Baldwin asked,
“What’s this?”

Hamilton leaned forward to look around Sherman,
“Squirrel, I think.”

“
God, I hate traveling.”

“
Throw it away, and I’ll give you a
pear.”

Baldwin dipped his spoon deep into the concoction
and let the goo plop back into the bowl. “This looks like pig
swill.” He ceremoniously turned the bowl over, and they all watched
the pottage spill onto the ground in bumpy chunks.

“
My money says that blob will still be there
on my return trip,” Hamilton said.

Baldwin turned the pear a couple times and then took
a huge bite. After a noisy chomp, he spoke with a mouth half full.
“I’ll not take that bet; forest animals have more dignity.”

“
How’d you like the privy?”

“
My God, can’t they dig another
one?”

“
Takes work.” Hamilton absently wiped pear
juice from his chin. “There’s no place more convenient to
stop.”

“
If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” Sherman
said, “I think I’ll stroll into the woods for my
respite.”

When Sherman returned, he noticed that the coach had
reappeared in front of the tavern, and Hamilton and Baldwin were
talking to two men on horseback. As Sherman approached, he saw
enough resemblance to realize it was father and son.

“
I kick myself for being so foolish,” the
older man said.

Baldwin saw Sherman approach. “Roger, meet Mr.
Russell and his son, Charles.” Sherman shook both men’s calloused
hands. “They own a farm six miles north. Seems they intend to
foreclose.”

“
Bastards.” The man gave his son a forlorn
look. “Headin’ down to Trenton to see if I can talk ’em into more
time.”

“
How much do you owe?” Sherman
asked.

“
One hundred and sixty shillings. More’n I
got. And the bastards won’t accept my New Jersey bonds. Three years
I fought, and all I got was bloody worthless paper. Makes a man
want to fight a revolution all over again.”

Sherman thought a minute. “How much money do you
have?”

“
Sixteen shillings, five pence. Sold my
hogs.”

“
That won’t stop them,” Hamilton
said.

Sherman opened his purse and found his last
sovereign. He didn’t know the measure of a British sovereign
against a New Jersey shilling, but he knew hard money carried a
heavy premium. Sherman held the heavy coin up and raised an eyebrow
at Hamilton and Baldwin.

Baldwin paused and then pulled out some coins that
amounted to almost two sovereigns. “How do you expect to buy ale
this evening?”

“
Keep one sovereign.” Sherman held his hand
out to Hamilton. “Alex?”

“
You’re mad. We don’t know these men. And
besides

”

“
We’re good, honest farmers,” the boy
exclaimed, “and my father carries a ball in his shoulder to prove
he’s a patriot. We don’t want your money.”

“
The boy’s right. It’s not enough. We didn’t
come begging.”

“
How much can you spare, Alex?” Sherman
asked.

“
You ol’ skinflint” Baldwin said. “As a
founder of the Bank of New York, you can afford it better than we
can.”

Hamilton looked as angry as Sherman had ever seen
him. Finally, his features softened, and he said, “I’ll contribute
another sovereign, but if they want his land, they’ll foreclose
anyway.”

“
They want my land, all right. It’s fertile,
with a ready supply of water.”

The coachman walked over and insisted that they
climb into the carriage. Sherman gave him a no-nonsense look and
said, “We’ll be five minutes, and you
will
wait.”

The driver looked ready to argue but instead said,
“Five minutes, and you’ll hear the crack of my whip.”

Sherman followed the coachman back to the carriage
and took out his satchel. He extracted a piece of fine paper and
his travel writing materials. It took him only a minute to write
the brief letter. Walking back to the group, he waved the paper to
dry the ink. “Here, each of you sign.” Hamilton and Baldwin quickly
scribbled their signatures. Sherman blew the ink dry and handed the
letter to the farmer still mounted on his mare.

Embarrassed, the farmer handed the letter to his
son. “I can’t read.”

After reading the note to himself, the boy sounded
incredulous. “These men are congressmen. One is Alexander
Hamilton.”

“
Aid to Gen. Washington?”

The boy handed the letter back to his father. “The
letter pleads to accept a partial payment and to extend the final
payment until next September.”

“
That might work. It’ll look like I have
powerful friends. To think, a mile back I damned
Congress.”

“
As well you should,” Baldwin said. “A useless
enterprise. We’re members of the Federal Convention that will put
an end to the tomfoolery.”

“
How can I ever repay you?”

“
With three sovereigns mailed to me in New
Haven, care of Yale University,” Sherman said.

The man looked down at the letter. “It may be a
while.”

“
I’m a patient man. Now we must get along.”
Sherman handed him the coins. “Good luck.”

“
Bless you. I’ll remember you in my
prayers.”

“
Remember us with a post,” Hamilton said. “In
the meantime, when you hear of our work, support the new
Constitution.”

“
I’ll support anything proposed by you
gentlemen. You’ve saved my family.”

Sherman grabbed his companions by the shoulders. “We
must go.” As the three men raced for the coach, Sherman saw the
driver make a show of whirling his whip. After scrambling into
their seats, Baldwin sighed and said, “I haven’t felt so good since
I left Georgia.”

As the coach lurched forward, Hamilton suddenly
seemed to find something amusing. With a head bow, Hamilton touched
two fingers to his tricorn and said, “Roger, I apologize for
laughing when you said you were colorful. I had no idea.”

The coach stopped at an inn less
than ten miles from New York. From here, Hamilton would catch a
hansom buggy to his home. Unlike their midday stop, this area had
the appearance of a small village. Several homes were scattered
around the inn, a blacksmith shop, a livery stable, a general
store, and two churches.

Sherman dismounted and stretched to his full height.
“Only seventy-six miles from home.”

“
Well, I don’t want to make you feel bad, but
I’m only a few miles from decent food, fine wine, and my own
bed.”

“
Oh, you’ll be sleeping in your
own bed this evening?” Baldwin asked.

“
Yes, I need rest before my admirers discover
I’m back in town.”

Sherman walked over and shook Hamilton’s hand.
“Thanks, Alex. The country owes you a debt.”

Hamilton laughed. “So does some woebegone farmer in
New Jersey.”

“
Could you send a messenger if there is any
news about the Cutler deal?”

“
Why not join me at my home?”

“
The coach leaves before dawn. I don’t want to
miss it.”

“
I’ll send a messenger if there’s
any news, but our sluggish Congress has probably not moved their
collective derrière.”

“
Thank you. We’ll see you in nine days.
Hopefully, we can wrap up quickly.”

Hamilton looked concerned. “Roger,
when we report out a constitution, the real work begins. Powerful
forces will fight us.”

He grabbed his bag and sprinted
toward a waiting buggy. After he had climbed aboard, Sherman and
Baldwin reluctantly walked into the dowdy-looking inn to be greeted
by a portly man and a small boy. “Welcome to the Black
Mare.”

“
Thank you.” Sherman handed his bag to the
boy. “Separate rooms, if possible.”

“
Heavens, I’m afraid that’s quite
impossible. Yours is one of many coaches that stop here—one room
per coach. You’re lucky you’re the only two passengers on the
Philadelphia route.”

“
Luck had nothing to do with it,” Baldwin
muttered. Turning toward Sherman, he added, “Remind me to thank
Hamilton for his generosity.”

The innkeeper looked perplexed but
didn’t pursue the matter. “Billy will take your bags to the room.
The coach will leave one half hour before daybreak. The boy will
give just one knock on your door, so move sharply. Now, would you
care for some ale and food?”

“
Indeed, we’re famished.” Baldwin
handed his bag to the boy, and both men took a seat at the end of a
long table.

“
What do you think of Hamilton?”
Sherman asked.

“
The smartest man I’ve ever met
but driven by inner demons.”

“
He’ll be powerful in the new
government.”

“
I’ll sleep at night. I’d rather
see him in a financial role than Robert Morris. Hamilton’s a bit of
a royalist, but Washington has his mark.”

“
His womanizing offends me, and
the man has no religious underpinnings.”

“
He worships Washington,” Baldwin
said.

“
A surrogate father?”

“
Us backcountry folk don’t complicate things.
If they choose each other, then it speaks well for both their
judgments.” Baldwin gave Sherman a friendly grin. “Roger, mostly
you keep your religion to yourself, but underneath you’re a
strident prude.”

“
I try not to be judgmental.”

“
You mean you try to keep your mouth
shut.”

Sherman laughed. “You know me too well.”

“
Who else offends you?”

Sherman used two fingers to pinch his mouth
shut.

“
Come on. It’s just us now, talking over
tankards of ale.”

Sherman glanced around to see if anyone was paying
attention to their conversation. “Gouverneur Morris.”

“
What? My favorite delegate.
There’s not a pretentious bone in his body. The man knows how to
enjoy life, and he’s a good republican.”