Some photos from my incredible trip to St. Croix, where Alexander Hamilton grew up!
The first four photos are of the Fort where Rachel Hamilton was held during her incarceration for refusing to live with her first husband, Johan Lavien. The barred window is in what is believed to be the cell where she was held.
The photo with the steps is the front of the house where Edward Stevens lived - he was one of Hamilton's closest, life-long friends.
Rachel's storefront and house on Company Street no longer stand, but the gated property is where the house would have been.
Most interestingly, from getting to talk with locals in St. Croix, I learned Rachel's store and home where Hamilton lived were on the edge of an area of Christiansted known as the "free gut." This area is where the free Black population of St. Croix lived. Also of interest, nearly directly across the street was where the enslaved and plantation laborers held their Sunday Market (a plaque commemorating the space is on the central well pictured above).
There's an interesting article about freed Black population on St. Croix in the 1700s and 1800s, if anyone is interested:
In addition to Europeans and enslaved laborers, a third population group lived in the Danish colony in the West Indies: the so-called free c
The last two photos are of the plaque on the building where Hamilton clerked (it's now a government office) and then just a shot to show how absolutely gorgeous the island is.
Hope everyone celebrating has a safe and happy Independence Day! 🎆
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Organization for Transformative Works
Madison, March 1815
Madison swallowed, forcing his ears to pop as the coach finished climbing the mountaintop and swung into the drive before Monticello. Dolley stretched her arms and back on the seat in front of him, preparing to disembark after the long journey. The shifting of the baggage in the back of the carriage began simultaneously with the carriage door being opened for them.
Two of Jefferson’s young grandchildren came tearing across the lawn, shouting to each other as they chased a hoop. Dolley smiled at them and remarked, “Jefferson does like to keep his house full, doesn’t he?”
Madison chuckled, finishing a big stretch before reaching out to offer her his arm. Together, they moved towards the entrance. The walls were decorated with Native artifacts of all kinds, shipped to Thomas by Louis and Clark during their expedition years earlier. Thomas had turned his front room into a kind of museum to entertain visitors to his mountain retreat.
“Hail the conquering heroes,” Patsy Randolph greeted, sweeping from the main parlor towards them with a gracious smile. “Welcome to Monticello, Mr. President. Mrs. Madison.”
“Oh, stop you. We’ve had quite enough of that nonsense,” Dolley said, stepping forward to give Patsy a kiss. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”
“Is the great man in?” Madison asked.
Patsy laughed. “Father’s back in his office, still packing his books to ship to Washington. He says he's still organizing and indexing everything. In all honesty, I think he finished ages ago and he’s just saying his goodbyes now, though he won’t admit it.”
“I’m surprised he was willing to part with such a large portion of his library. Grateful, of course, but surprised.” After the Library of Congress had been burned during the British occupation of Washington, Jefferson had generously offered his own collection as a replacement. Congress had jumped at the offer.
“I was floored,” Patsy agreed. “I thought he’d part with me and the grandchildren before ever parting with his books.”
“Nonsense,” Madison said, though when he locked eyes with Patsy, they both grinned with mutual understanding.
“You can go right on back,” Patsy invited. “May I offer you some tea, Mrs. Madison?”
Madison took the first door on the right to cut through the family parlor and made his way into Thomas’s private office. Crates upon crates had turned the space into something of a maze. He pushed forward in the general direction of Jefferson’s desk and called, “Thomas?”
“Just in here,” Thomas’s voice called back.
Navigating through a narrow path in the boxes, he found an opening to where Thomas’s silvery-auburn hair was catching the sunlight from the windows. Thomas’s hand was stroking the spines of a stack of books near his desk; Madison had to force down a smile at the sight. When he managed to take the seat across from Thomas’s desk, Thomas asked, “I’m glad to see you finally escaped from Washington. Was it as exuberant as it sounded?”
“News of peace brought quite an explosion of joy from the populous,” Madison agreed.
Madison would never forget that blessed day.
Hamilton had been seated in his office, pouring over the latest dispatches about their victory in New Orleans along with Burr’s efforts to rally the people around a Canadian advance. New Orleans had greatly whetted the general appetite to attack the British on all fronts, relegating discussions about the report from the Hartford Convention to a mere secondary news item.
Edward Coles had opened the door to the office with wide, hopeful eyes. “Mr. Monroe and Mr. Carroll to see you, sir.”
Hamilton shifted up in his chair, spine straight with expectation. The same hope had begun to swell in his violet eyes. “Henry Carroll?”
Madison had nodded once, deliberately, his breath caught in his chest.
“Should I go?” Hamilton offered.
“No,” Madison said. “You, out of everyone in this country, deserve to hear this first.”
The large chest landed on his wooden desk with a decisive thunk. Coles did the honor of unlocking it and pulling out the cover letter from Henry Clay.
“There are omissions,” Monroe had cautioned. “Significant omissions that will raise more than a few eyebrows in Congress.”
“Eyebrows, perhaps, but not voices,” Hamilton had said. A smile brightened his features, the worry that had burdened his brow lifting as he considered what he’d heard. “You can defend this, Jemmy. This will pass the Senate.”
“I agree,” he’d said. “I agree most emphatically.”
Peace.
Good Lord, peace at last.
The news had traveled through the city like wildfire, popping the thick tension that had laid over every citizen like a needle to an overfilled balloon. Fireworks erupted into the night, music threaded through the air, and champagne poured freely in every house along the street.
“I expected nothing less,” Thomas said, smiling as he brought Madison back from his wandering thoughts. “Congratulations, Jemmy. You must be overjoyed to have completed your trials. Are you already preparing the way for your successor?”
“I’ve a bit more time left on my term, as you well know,” Madison said with a sigh. “But hopefully the most eventful occurrences are now behind us.”
“Hear, hear,” Thomas concurred. “Efforts are underway to unwind that beastly standing army, I hope?”
“Yes, indeed,” Madison agreed, though a tinge of sadness accompanied the thought.
Hamilton had been his rock, his steadying presence as the worst of the war unfolded. Having to shake his hand to bid him farewell had been unexpectedly emotional for him.
Hamilton had gripped his hand firmly, and remarked slyly, “I doubt this is the last you’ll see of me. At last count, I had fifteen different inquiries on my desk requesting advice regarding a Second National Bank.”
“That sounds more of a threat than a reassurance,” Madison had countered.
“Take it as you will,” Hamilton had shrugged, mischief brightening his eyes. With more sincerity, he’d added, “You’re always welcome at the Grange, Jemmy.”
Thomas was nodding in approval at the news that their army was being dismantled. “An unnecessary and dangerous force, to be sure. New Orleans proved that an assembly of volunteers can easily defeat an army when put to the task of defending their homes.”
Madison frowned. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
Thomas’s brow furrowed in return. “No?”
“New Orleans was a lucky circumstance, where Jackson could choose his battle ground. The entrenchment assured the men could be well protected while reloading their firearms, while the British were forced to fight on open land. Not every battle is so ideally situated.” Bladensburg still loomed in his memory; the smell of smoke, the screaming wrenching the air, the terror as that snake of red loomed ever closer.
Thomas gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “No matter. The need has passed, in any event. Although, the three-headed serpent will still need watching.”
Madison’s head cocked to the side, a moment passing before he understood Thomas’s meaning: Hamilton, Burr, and Jackson, the three military heroes to emerge from the conflict. “They are quite popular.”
“Jackson was a great apologist for Burr back in ’07,” Thomas noted. “Will loyalty keep him in second place, do you think? Or will he battle Burr for the honor?”
“I couldn’t say,” Madison said, pondering.
“I suppose the great unanswered question is, what will Hamilton do?”
“Surely, he would intervene if Burr took up the notion of public office again,” Madison said. Then again, he’d seen the two men together recently. Hamilton seemed easier with Burr, a camaraderie existing between them Madison never would have expected. And Burr had looked at Hamilton differently, a sort of gratitude and…loyalty suffusing his gaze.
Monroe had designs on the highest office, of course. His efforts to see the Treaty of Ghent through were meant to push him above the military exploits of the others who might try for the seat. But Hamilton’s position remained strong. Hamilton had been the country’s bedrock as much as Madison’s when it came to military matters, a steadying presence who had defended the capital with his very life. Hamilton had stayed in the city, had tried his best to repel the attack. Just as he’d assured Madison from his hospital bed later, people remembered that they’d tried, even where they’d failed.
Would Hamilton…no. Madison took a breath. He’d said more than once that he had no interest in returning to politics. But that gleam of mischief in his eyes…and his feeling towards Monroe were hardly a secret….
Oh gosh I saw your mention of coming back tu writing?? And I swear the other day at work I remembered reading your story of life therein and I loved it so much and wish it was still updating!
Im very sorry if it sounds pressuring but I only meant to show how much of a good writer you are. You research and care deeply for your subjects
Aww, thanks so much! I am still working on getting a new chapter up for "Life Hereafter"! I've got a page of notes down and I'm working my way through plotting the next section, approaching the election of 1816.
Thinking about how that election would have been different had Hamilton lived was part of what made me think about writing Life Hereafter in the first place. I'm pretty sure whatever happened between the duel and that election, Hamilton would have been dead-set against Monroe ever being elected to the presidency. If you think the Adams pamphlet was bad, hoo boy, it would have had nothing on the 1816 election lol. Hamilton basically respected Adams--he absolutely loathed Monroe!
hii<3 have you read Hamliza books like Alex & Eliza A Love Story, I Elizabeth Hamilton and My Dear Hamilton? if so did you like them?? and is there any other Hamliza book to read?
I've read all of them! The "Alex & Eliza" series by Melissa De La Cruz was generally sweet, but the most fictionalized of the ones you listed. I like "My Dear Hamilton," though I found the sub-plot with Eliza and James Monroe a little odd. (I actually liked America's First Daughter, a novel about Martha Jefferson Randolph by the same authors a little better than their Hamilton novel.) "I, Elizabeth Hamilton" by Susan Holloway Scott was probably my favorite of the three you listed. I thought that one was well written and closer to the real story of their relationship.
If you haven't read it yet, Elizabeth Cobbs also wrote a fantastic fiction book about Hamilton called "The Hamilton Affair". It's a dual POV that starts in Alexander and Eliza's younger years, and follows them through Hamilton's death. There's a part where Eliza and Hamilton go ice skating during the revolution that was hilarious. Highly recommend!
Hey! As you know a lot about the time period I’m wondering if I can ask you a question. From what I’ve seen, John Hamilton’s biography of his father was criticised because it claimed that Hamilton authored many of Washington’s letters (and I gather he was criticised by people who admired Hamilton). Did Hamilton actually author many of the papers under Washington’s name - did people just not want to believe it because of Washington’s reputation or for political reasons?
Hamilton definitely authored a good number of Washington's papers. During the Revolution, Hamilton's job as Washington's aide de camp included the duty to pen letters for George Washington. A quick search of Hamilton's papers on Founders Online shows a total of 889 letters written in Hamilton's handwriting that were sent under George Washington's signature.
What brought much more political controversy was Hamilton's involvement in the drafting of Washington's famous Farewell Address. All those years as Washington's aide meant Hamilton had a great knack for writing in Washington's voice. When Washington determined to step down from the presidency, he sent Hamilton a draft for a Farewell Address that James Madison had worked on four years previously (See Hamilton to Washington, 10 May 1796). Hamilton reviewed Madison's work, but decided instead to send his own version of what he thought Washington ought to say to the public. (See Hamilton to Washington, 30 July 1796). Washington ultimately tweaked Hamilton's draft and also passed it around to members of his cabinet for input, but much of the Farewell Address was in fact authored by Alexander Hamilton.
Because Washington generally tried to remain above the party politics of the time, it being widely known that his beloved last words to the public were penned by Alexander Hamilton would have started a political firestorm.
When Hamilton passed away in 1804, Rufus King went through his papers and took the draft of the Farewell Address that would have proved his authorship, fearing Hamilton's family would publish it to give Hamilton credit for the work. Eliza Hamilton spent years attempting to reclaim the document. She even visited Mount Vernon at one point to look through Washington's papers to see if there was a copy of Hamilton's draft there (see The Life and Correspondence of Bushrod Washington, v. VI, pp.617-18). Ultimately, she had to file a lawsuit against King in 1825 to reclaim the document.
Eliza did not, as King feared, immediately make it widely known that Hamilton had authored the Farewell Address. However, she did record a statement to be released after her death where she detailed her own personal knowledge that Hamilton had drafted the Address for Washington. In that statement, she related the following amusing anecdote:
"Shortly after the publication of the address, my husband and myself were walking in Broadway, when an old soldier accosted him, with a request of him to purchase General Washington’s Farewell address, which he did and turning to me said, ‘That man does not know he has asked me to purchase my own work.'" (Elizabeth Hamilton’s Statement as to Washington’s Farewell Address, as published in The Intimate Life of Alexander Hamilton).
Her statement was one of the many, many ways Eliza worked during her life to help preserve Hamilton's legacy.
I read somewhere that Eliza asked Governeur Morris to pray with her for her death after Hamilton’s. Is this true? And if so, could I be given some details on the interaction?
Sadly, yes, that does seem to be a true story, based on the account recorded by David Ogden after Hamilton's death. Eliza stayed by Hamilton's side throughout the night and through the following day after he was shot. Once Hamilton passed away, Ogden describes the heart-wrenching scene that followed:
"The poor woman [Eliza Hamilton] was almost distracted [and] begged Uncle Gouverneur Morris might come into her room. She burst into tears, told him he was the best friend her husband had, begged him to join her in prayers for her own death, and then to be a father for her children.
Mr. Morris had been already almost overcome with grief at witnessing the last moments of the man of whom of all others he loved most on earth.
This last scene with the bereaved widow was almost too much for him to bear, and the big tears that flowed down his cheeks bespoke the anguish of his soul."
Hey! Are you still writing fanfiction? If you aren't, that's alright. I just really love your writing and it's been a while :)
I know, I totally suck for disappearing! I am working on refreshing myself about where I left off for "Life Hereafter" while I research and decide exactly where I want to take the next part. And I'm definitely trying to get back into writing, so hopefully more fics coming in the near future! Ham and Eliza will always be my faves!
Excerpt of Expenses from Hamilton and Caleb Gibbs‘ Trip to Albany from Valley Forge
[Valley Forge, January 20, 1778]
“Account of Expences of. Colo. Hamilton. & Captain Gibbs. to Albany & back again—set off from Skippack road, 15. miles from Phila: Returnd. to Valley Forge—
Sent by His Excelly. Genel. Washington on public service...
Novr— 1— at Chester.— 1. 17.4—2d at N. Windsor ferry 8/6 2. 5.10
4 at Paukeepsey— 19/ —at Rhynbeck— 25/6. 2. 4. 6
5th. at Clauverick— 16/8.—gave a guide—9/ 1. 5. 8.
at Kinderhook— 16/ —at Albany ferry 6/. 1. 2—
8th. at Cosockett2 19/6—at Wells’s ferry—5/. 1. 4. 6
at Pools landing 24/6—9th on the road to Clauvierck 10/ 1.14. 6
12th. at Fish Kill— 30/ —at New Windsor ferry 10/. 2.—
14th. at Goshen— 20/—at Chester—27/. 2. 7—
16th. at Pompton— 14/ 14. £19. 5. 0
On the road to PeeksKill when Colo. Hamilton was taken sick from Morris Town 22d. at Ramapaugh 13/ —at Cacaat3—16/8 1. 9. 8.
23 at Kings ferry— 11/ —gave the ferry man 5/. .16—
Cash paid at Peeks Kill when Colo. Hamilton was sick
25th. to 3 quarters mutton @8/24 gave the doctr. 6/ 1.10—”
-This was the journey back to Valley Forge from Albany, where Hamilton may have first met Eliza. He certainly spoke with Philip Schuyler while he was there. Hamilton became severely ill on the return trip, as can be seen in the entries for November 22d through November 25th.
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