355: The Women of Washington's Secret Spy Ring

Chapter 2

Elizabeth wondered how she would survive without Jonathan. Ever since the war began, Jonathan had complained of a lack of customers at his store and that money grew tighter. She felt a swell of indignation: she had already lost her only brother due to this conflict and now she was being asked to sacrifice her husband as well?

Elizabeth marveled at the changes that overcame her native city as more Yankee troops arrived from Boston. Because the family quarters were located on the second floor above the Queen Street shop, they had a good view of the city below from both the east and west. The harbor, which had been practically deserted in the spring with the arrival of General Lee from England, now teemed with American soldiers. It seemed a company was always conducting drills outside their building, their fifes and drums audible long into the night.

After the British settled on nearby Staten Island, Jonathan had officially enlisted under General Woodhull and was ordered by the Committee of Safety to help garrison the East River beach. Jonathan would often come home exhausted and sunburned. Gone was his previous reticence to talk politics with his wife. He filled her in on what was happening outside, including a supposed plot by the Loyalists to kidnap General Washington which resulted in the hanging of a man in the gallows near Bowery Lane. Every day after that he had stories of Tory turncoats being tarred and feathered or dragged through the city while straddling a fence rail.

Confined to her apartments and the store below it, Elizabeth could still feel the tensions rise in the streets of York City. She was not opposed to war. She had read snippets of Jonathan's copy of Common Sense, and agreed with most of what Thomas Paine had written, specifically that England, so far removed, had no right to govern America. But with the conflict building right outside her window, Elizabeth began to question whether it was worth her and her family's lives.

The military occupation, thankfully, brought business to the shop. Jonathan owned a dry goods store that sold such necessities as stationery, tobacco, and tea (the local herbal kind as Jonathan had refused to sell Bohea after the Boston Tea Party) along with a few other various items like walking sticks, ribbon, and scraps of cloth. The first morning Elizabeth had opened the shop, she was relieved to see Jonathan's longtime friend Hercules Mulligan enter, ducking underneath the doorframe as he did so.

"Hello, Elizabeth," he said warmly, taking both of her hands in his. Hercules's palms, like the rest of his body, were massive. In addition to his height, he had a girth that could have been imposing; his manner, however, had always been most affable to Elizabeth. "How long until the baby comes?"

"About two months," Elizabeth said, retreating back behind the counter. With her previous pregnancies, Elizabeth went into a self-imposed confinement at this stage, but the necessity of making money meant appearing in public with her swollen belly.

"I have to pick up some things." The stocky Irish immigrant would have made a hardy soldier, but instead he owned the finest clothier shop in York City. "Do you have any sugar?"

Elizabeth glanced down at the ledger in front of her. "Sugar?"

Hercules set a few items down on the counter. "If you do, it would be in the back room."

Elizabeth nodded and ducked underneath the curtain that led to the stockroom. There she was confronted with an endless sea of objects wrapped in brown packaging. The bell on the front door of the shop rang as Elizabeth fumbled with a packet similar in size and shape to what she imagined a bag of sugar would be.

"Never mind, Elizabeth," Hercules called out.

As she reappeared in the front of the store, she noticed Hercules eyeing the new customer with disdain. The unfamiliar man wore a powdered wig and a well-cut suit. He had a long, crooked nose and shrewd blue eyes. "I'm looking for some ink."