Complete Works. Hamilton Alexander
Like most patriots Schuyler was not really well-to-do, although he owned a great deal of land which, in those days, was not worth much, and some of it was rented by small farmers for trifling sums. His contributions to the cause of independence were very large, however, and at one time, at the request of Robert Morris, he sent to the destitute army a thousand barrels of flour, with little or no assurance that he would be repaid.
Through the peculiar position of his property and the fact that it appeared to be open to the attacks of marauding forces, he suffered immense losses during the early part of the war. Not only did the cannon of Burgoyne wreck and set on fire his great house at Saratoga, but to prevent their crops from falling into the hands of the enemy his wife, Catherine Schuyler, applied the torch to the ripening grain. There was, however, not only enough left to shower hospitality upon the many distinguished strangers who were always welcome, but in material ways to add to the comfort of his many children.
Hamilton's honeymoon was a short one, and during the early months of 1781 he was not only busy with military affairs, but prepared his second memorandum upon the establishment of a national bank, which was sent to Robert Morris. He was then but twenty-four. In May, with Washington and others, he again met Rochambeau at Hartford, and with de Ternay, the commandant of the French fleet, made arrangements for a joint campaign. De Grasse, in command of the squadron then in the West Indies, was to proceed toward the north, which he later did.
Hamilton during the summer had gone South to crown his military career, taking part in the investment of York-town, and the attack which led to the surrender of Corn-wallis.
His letters to his wife, at this time, detail his plans and the operations of the army.
Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton
August, 1781.
In my last letter I informed you that there was a greater prospect of activity now, than there had been heretofore, did this to prepare your mind for an event which, I am sure, will give you pain. I begged your father, at the same time, to intimate to you, by degrees, the probability of its taking place.
A part of the army, my dear girl, is going to Virginia, and I must, of necessity, be separated at a much greater distance from my beloved wife. I cannot announce the fatal necessity, without feeling everything that a fond husband can feel. I am unhappy. I am unhappy beyond expression. I am unhappy, because I am to be so remote from you; because I am to hear from you less frequently than I am accustomed to do. I am miserable, because I know you will be so; I am wretched at the idea of flying so far from you, without a single hour's interview, to tell you all my pains and all my love. But I cannot ask permission to visit you. It might be thought improper to leave my corps at such a time, and upon such an occasion. I must go without seeing you—I must go without embracing you;—alas! I must go. But let no idea, other than of the distance we shall be asunder disquiet you. Though I said the prospects of activity will be greater, I said it to give your expectations a diflPerent turn, and prepare you for something disagreeable. It is ten to one that our views will be disappointed, by Cornwallis retiring to South Carolina by land. At all events, our operations will be over by the latter end of October, and I will fly to my home. Don't mention I am going to Virginia.
Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton
Head of Elk, September 6,1781.
Yesterday, my lovely wife, I wrote to you, inclosing you a letter in one to your father, to the care of Mr. Morris. Tomorrow the post sets out, and tomorrow we embark for Yorktown. I cannot refuse myself the pleasure of writing you a few lines. Constantly uppermost in my thoughts and affections, I am happy only when my moments are devoted to some office that respects you. I would give the world to be able to tell you all I feel and all I wish, but consult your own heart and you will know mine. What a world will soon be between us! To support the idea, all my fortitude is insufficient. What must be the case with you, who have the most female of female hearts? I sink at the perspective of your distress, and I look to heaven to be your guardian and supporter.
Circumstances that have just come to my knowledge, assure me that our operations will be expeditious, as well as our success certain. Early in November, as I promised you, we shall certainly meet. Cheer yourself with this idea, and with the assurance of never more being separated.
Every day confirms me in the intention of renouncing public life, and devoting myself wholly to you. Let others waste their time and their tranquillity in a vain pursuit of power and glory; be it my object to be happy in a quiet retreat with my better angel.
A. Hamilton.
Shortly before the end of the war he wrote this letter:
Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton
Philadelphia, July 22, 1783.
I wrote you, my beloved Eliza, by the last post, which I hope will not meet with the fate that many others of my letters must have met with. I count upon setting out to see you in four days; but I have been so frequently disappointed by unforeseen events, that I shall not be without apprehensions of being detained, till I have begun my journey.
The members of Congress are very pressing with me not to go away at this time, as the House is thin, and as the definitive treaty is momently expected.
Tell your father that Mr. Rivington, in a letter to the South Carolina delegates, had given information, coming to him from Admiral Arbuthnot that the Mercury frigate is arrived at New York with the definitive treaty, and that the city was to be evacuated yesterday, by the treaty. I am strongly urged to stay a few days for the ratification of the treaty; at all events, however, I will not be long absent.
I give you joy of the happy conclusion of this important work in which your country has been engaged. Now, in a very short time, I hope we shall be happily settled in New York. My love to your father.
Kiss my boy a thousand times.
A. Hamilton.
Before this Hamilton had left the army and had gone to Albany to study law—and on August 11 his friend, McHenry, wrote:
James McHenry to Alexander Hamilton
If you are not in the humor to read a long letter, do, prithee, give this to the child to play with and go on with your amusement of rocking the cradle.' To be serious, my dear Hamilton, I have been thinking of late upon my own situation and this led me as often to think of yours. Some men, I observe, are so born & tempered, that it is not till after long bustling & battling it in the world (and some scarcely then) that they come to learn a little prudence. Much I begin to suspect that you & I want a great deal of this quality to bring us on a level with our neighbors and to carry us cheerfully through life. Have we not both of us continued long enough in the service of the public? Should not I exercise my profession or some profitable business & should not you, putting off the politician, exert yourself only to acquire a profession? I find that to be dependent on a father is irksome, because I feel that it is in my power to be independent by my own endeavours. I see that the good things of this world are all to be purchased with money and that the man who has money may be whatever he pleases.
Hamilton, there are two lawyers in this Town, one of which has served the public in the General Assembly for three years with reputation, and to the neglect of his practice. The other has done nothing but attend to his profession, by which he has acquired a handsome competency. Now the people have taken it into their heads to displace the lawyer which has served them till he is become poor, in order to put in his stead the lawyer who has served himself & become rich. Let me add to this anecdote a bon mot of our friend Fleury's. Talking to me the other day. "You are a senator," said he, "pray what is your salary." I told him it might perhaps defray about two thirds of our expenses while attending the Senate, and that we were only paid during our attendance, provided one was unmarried & lived frugally. "Then," said he, "I pity Maryland, for her Senate must be composed chiefly of rich fools." What is the moral of all this, my dear friend, but that it is high time for you and I to set about in good earnest, doing something for ourselves.
I