“Where are they going?” I asked Henry later that morning as our group then split into two.
“Alexandria, to restock supplies. If you are correct and this is only the beginning, then they need to be ready for the next battle with the French and to build more forts.”
“Well, I am correct.” I teased him. “You should know that by now.” I have given him and Washington enough information during my time with them that they should know to listen to me. Washington was hesitant to listen to what I had to say, even after all this time. He thought he would learn the military tactics from English books, but I think he understood that the fighting style that was taught in England did not apply here. War tactics were different in the colonies. There was more wild land here. More mountains. More trees. He needed to pay more attention to the fighting style of the indigenous people. This was their land, and it would behoove our militia to pay attention and adapt.
The closer to the coast we got, the more homesteads and small towns we found. Every day felt as though I was getting closer to civilization and further away from my torment. Whether it was generosity, obligation, or IOUs, we stayed at farms on the outskirts of towns along the way. I was waiting for Henry’s money to run out. It wasn’t like he carried around debit cards. He always found a way to take of my needs. The way I was dressed, in bits and pieces of a soldier’s uniform, would bring me strange looks. Throughout the time I had been traveling with the Virginia Regiment, I didn’t feel more out of place than I did when finally made it to Fredericksburg.
We were to cross the Rappahannock using the ferry at Washington’s home. I wanted to clap my hands together and jump up and down like I won a prize on a game show. It was home… sort of. At least it was somewhat familiar.
Ships docked along the Fredericksburg side. I had not seen ships this far inland during my time. I knew Fredericksburg was one of the major ports in the thirteen colonies, but it was something else to see it in action. “We called this area Ferry Farm.” I said motioning towards Washington’s family home. “They finished the reconstruction of Washington’s home a couple of years ago. Well, a couple of years in my time.”
“What happened to it? Did it get destroyed during the war? Do the French make it all the way here?”
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” I exclaimed. “I’m not sure when it gets destroyed. I think after the Revolution, and then it just got lost to time. As you can see, it wasn’t like it was a grand house or anything. His sister’s house becomes a tourist attraction.”
“The house by the Lewis store?”
“No, the Kenmore.” I looked at Henry with his scrunched-up and confused face. Two years ago, I went to the Kenmore Plantation for a tour. I remembered Betty Washington Lewis had married Fielding Lewis, and they had built a large house. They would not build that house for a few more years. “War will eventually make it here, during the Civil War, which won’t happen for another hundred years.”
“We are staying the night here before heading to Williamsburg. Colonel Washington said he planned for you to stay with one of his childhood acquaintances.”
We crossed the Rappahannock River on the ferry from Washington’s farm to the bank in Fredericksburg. Of course, there were not as many buildings in 1754 as there were in 2019, but this was home.
Henry looked around the busy port. “Is your home here?” Henry led Louis from the ferry, as we walked up the steep hill from the river to the main road. Carts traveled up and down the hill, past the tavern, carrying goods to and from warehouses. We mounted Louis at the top of the hill.
“No. It will be built in that area over there,” I said, pointing beyond the main street of Fredericksburg. We followed Colonel Washington up Caroline Street. He rode his horse twenty feet in front of us. Old neighbors and friends greeted him along the way. He tipped his head in response.
Henry looked around the area, taking it all in as though it was new to him. He had visited Fredericksburg numerous times. “Do you still take a ferry to cross the river?”
The hustle and bustle of the city was a lot to take in. “No, there are a few bridges. I usually cross the one that they will build somewhere to our right. The historical district, this area,” I pointed to Caroline Street as we followed Colonel Washington to his friend’s house. “There will be more houses and buildings crammed in here. Some of these buildings will still be here.”
Henry studied a few of the buildings as we passed them. “Do any of these buildings look familiar?”
“That one.” I was excited to see a building I had been to hundreds of times before. “My friend Maggie will own a bookstore there. It’s called By the River Books. She has a cute little tabby cat named Pom and a Dachshund name Fritz. She is always dragging me and our friend Beth into some craziness. Oh, my friend Beth, she is a professor at the university. She is one of the country’s experts on Colonial America. She is brilliant.”
Henry laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this alive.”
“This is my home. Or will be my home?” I continued to look at the building that would be By the River Books. “Over there will be Betsy’s Biscuits. I love her french toast. I miss my friends and Hannah. Although, it makes me sad knowing that they are not here with me.”
“Here we are.” Washington dismounted his horse in front of a large white house on the street that I knew as Charles Street. I recognized the Georgian-styled house. I had driven past it what felt like a million times. “Miss Elizabeth Woods is expecting us.”
A well dressed, older enslaved man invited us inside the home. The house was beautiful and well maintained, but not over the top decorated. A painted oil cloth, with the typical black and white checks, adorned the floor of the foyer. He showed us to a sitting room to the left. Miss Woods came bounding down the stairs. My jaw dropped. She looked exactly how Beth did, except she couldn’t be older than nineteen or twenty. Her medium brown hair was pulled back into a chignon, a few loose tendrils framed her delicate face. Her green eyes were full of life at the sight of her friend, Washington.
“Beth?” I blurted out. I wanted to run over and hug her. How could a younger version of my friend be standing in front of me? Henry held my arm to keep me from darting over to her. She looked at me with mixture of confusion and amusement.
“Captain Lord Henry Spencer and Mistress Amelia Murray, I would like to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Woods,” Washington said.
Miss Woods fell into a curtsy, and I returned the honor, albeit a clumsy attempt in my pants. I felt there should have been a dress for me to hold on to. Henry gave a slight bow. Etiquette of the eighteenth century differed completely from what I was used to. Curtsy. Bow. Miss. Mistress. Lord. Oh lord, is right. I would have to get a book on etiquette.
“It is my honor to invite you into my home,” she said as she gave a smile to Washington. I could see that he was the reason she welcomed us with such open arms. “Supper is being prepared. Will you be joining me?”
“I promised Mother I would join her. Betty will stop by,” Washington said as he took Miss Woods’ hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips. “Captain, I will see you in the morn.” His eyes did not leave hers.
“George, must you leave?” They walked to the door, leaving me and Henry in the sitting room. I looked at Henry and mouthed “George”, in a bit of disbelief that anyone would call Washington by that name. I only heard anyone call him Lieutenant Colonel and Colonel Washington. Not Mister Washington, and certainly never George. Well, at least not to his face.
“Mistress Murray,” Miss Woods came through the parlor door, less enthusiastic than she was when we had arrived, but still as sweet. “Would you like to change and clean up before we sup?”
“I would love to, but…” I began, unsure how to tell her I was a scroungy looking mess and that was the best I could do. “Well, my dress was destroyed. This is all I have. If you don’t want me at your table dressed like this, I can eat in my room.” I looked at her and Henry. “Or something like that.”
“Nonsense. There are plenty of clothes that you can wear.” I looked at her, although taller than me. Her waist was small. I wasn’t sure she would have anything that would fit me, but if she thought she did, I wouldn’t argue with getting out of this uniform. She turned to Henry. “Captain Spencer, will you be staying here with Mistress Murray? George only mentioned the lady and I…”
I interrupted her. “We’re not married. We would need separate rooms.” Sure, we have slept near each other for the past couple of months, including a shared room, but I knew that during this time it would be highly inappropriate for us to share a room at the home of a friend of George Washington. It could have a negative impact on Washington’s reputation, and I knew he had an important future and reputation to maintain.
“I will make arrangements at the inn and return to dine with you two ladies.” He said with a bow and left.