United States

Writing a bio for me is hard because I am myself and I could go on and on about how I think of me but would that be correct in others eyes? So I guess the only word I can really use to describe me is Bree and let my writing do the rest.

Message to Readers

Check this out pleas.e

Unconfirmed Confirmation (20)

September 11, 2017


"Sir," I ask Washington as I sit and chart out the plans for tomorrow's attack. It's a complicated one with lots of surprising pull throughs, but I have a feeling we could do it if we acted without further warning to the redcoats. We charge from the west of one of their bigger camps and would take it from there with multiple smaller attacks that would join the bigger army in force. It was a good plan Knox had come up with- I wish I had come up with it instead of having to review and calculate the numbers. "The General you hired, when is he to take position?"
Washington looked up from writing a letter with an M on the envelope, obviously meant for Martha Washington. "General Lee will take his place once we go through the next two battles and General Tucker is off to South Carolina."
"Is it General Charles Lee, sir?"
Washington nodded and started to dip his quill in ink again. I felt a weight settle in my stomach and got the feeling it would be there a while. "Have you met him Hamilton?" he asked curiously, not looking up.
"Yes sir. Have you, sir?"
"On formal occasions. Not really in a two person conversation however. But his reputation speaks for himself- he served for many nobles," Washington informed. I sighed, knowing if Lee had a history of nobleness nothing I said would really make a difference. And what could I say? He was rude? I needed some actual sensible reason for him not to be a General other than his lack of hospitality. Bringing up his reference to my upbringing would only make Washington upset over nothing if he was upset at all, since he would probably be overruled by others too. "Is something bothering you Hamilton?" he asked.
I paused from saying no. Would now be a time to bring up the question I'd wondered about for a while now? "Sir," I said delicately. He looked up, his eyes wary and expectant. "What is it Hamilton," he said, seeming to recognize the tone in my voice.
I abandoned all attempt of dignity. "Please sir," I pleaded, looking up. "I wonder if you could just allow me to lead one of segments of the army tomorrow? A small one even, sir, very small. Consisting of 100 men if you'd like, and I'll join with another Colonel's arm-"
"No Hamilton," Washington shot down immediately, looking back at the letter to his wife. "You know my answer."
"But sir!" I pleaded, rising from my seat. "I am capable, I promise you!"
"It is not a question of whether you are capable or not but whether I am capable of running this campaign without you. And the answer is no," Washington responded, still not looking up.
"Sir, it's only one battle! You know even on the mission I returned with the information and then gave the wounded time to escape! Please, sir, please at least consider-"
"Hamilton," he said sternly, turning his attention to me and putting his quill down momentarily. "My answer is no."
"That is final Hamilton!" he cut off. I slumped my shoulders and went back to chair, sitting down and picking up my quill. Which was, apparently, my only purpose in this war. We sat like that for at least ten minutes, scratching away in silence on different papers until he sighed. "Hamilton, once General Lee is in charge I will consider," he stressed the word. "Letting you serve as leader of the back squadron."
I looked up in disbelief. "Really, sir?"
"Yes Hamilton. Now mail this to Mrs. Washington," he ordered, holding out a sealed letter. I practically bolted over there. "Thank you sir. Thank you-"
"Letter Hamilton."
"Letter," I repeated, snatching it up and going out of the tent to hand it to the nearest messenger.

I entered the tent I shared with the rest of Washington's cabinet and smiled to myself, just having given the letter to be delivered. I was alone, no one else there except a sleeping Lafayette with dried ink of his cheek. I shouldn't but... I grinned and crossed my arms, gripping my elbows. "Please please please," I whispered into the air. "Please let me have this."
"Ahh... sir?"
I spun around, my posture going back into my normal soldier mode and my grin dropping. A man who's age seemed undeterminable with a black cap on eyed me warily like he'd walked onto one of the crazies. He cleared his throat and held out a letter. "This is for you sir."
Eliza. this day was about to get even better. I snatched it up and nodded at him. "Thank you sir," I said. He nodded once before disappearing through the tent flap. I walked over to a lantern and quickly lit it, my eyes scanning for the curve of her words. I eagerly looked for her handwriting and realized that it wasn't hers at all. The Colonel Hamilton on the front belonged to Peggy Schuyler.
Credit to Lin Manuel Miranda, Ron Chernow, and Hamilton.

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