Lin-Manuel Miranda performs "Alexander Hamilton" at The White House, 10/1/2015
HAMILTON IN OUR RECORDS: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?
Today’s post, by Miriam Kleiman from the Public Affairs office, is the first in a series. Special thanks to Miriam’s neighbor and friend Stefanie for the idea, sparked by her sheer delight at finding the Reynolds Pamphlet in the National Archives Founders Online.
Like so many others, my family had front-row seats to the smash hit musical Hamilton (online) and it blew us all away. As a longtime National Archives researcher and staffer, and inspired by exhibits curator Corinne Porter’s related document display, I decided to explore Hamilton’s life and legacy through the lens of our records, song by song.
Hamilton in our Records, Song 1: Alexander Hamilton
One of the first mentions of Alexander Hamilton is the Probate Court Transaction on Estate of Rachel Lavien, 2/19/1768. The appointed estates administrator for the “Christiansted jurisdiction on the Island of St. Croix,” another administrator, the bailiff, and the court reporter met at 10 pm, a few hours after the death of Hamilton’s mother, to witness “the sealing up of a chamber containing her effects together with a trunk etc..,” items that were moved to storage with the exception of “some pots and other small things which remained unsealed for use in preparing the body for burial, among them being 6 chairs, 2 tables, and 2 wash-bowls.”
The document notes the purpose of the meeting: “to take an inventory of them for subsequent distribution among the decedent’s surviving children.” Much is made of her marital status or lack thereof; noting that three children are legitimate and two are not: James (15) and Alexander (13).
Less than two years later, at age 15, Hamilton writes to his friend Edward Stevens (letter of 11/11/1769) of his longing for more, and his “plannin' for the future,” underscoring the lyrics: “There's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait.”
Ned, my Ambition is prevalent that I contemn the grov’ling and condition of a Clerk or the like, to which my Fortune &c. condemns me and would willingly risk my life tho’ not my Character to exalt my Station. Im confident, Ned that my Youth excludes me from any hopes of immediate Preferment nor do I desire it, but I mean to prepare the way for futurity. Im no Philosopher you see and may be jusly said to Build Castles in the Air. My Folly makes me ashamd and beg youll Conceal it, yet Neddy we have seen such Schemes successfull when the Projector is Constant I shall Conclude saying I wish there was a War.
Founders Online includes an unexpected record, a love poem Hamilton submitted for publication to The Royal Danish American Gazette (4/6/1771). While it’s not certain that Hamilton wrote it, the tone and content do reflect a young man beginning to rewrite his game:
I am a youth about seventeen, and consequently such an attempt as this must be presumptuous; but if, upon perusal, you think the following piece worthy of a place in your paper, by inserting it you’ll much oblige
What starts off as a sappy, romantic love story then grows darker:
In yonder mead my love I found Beside a murm’ring brook reclin’d: Her pretty lambkins dancing round Secure in harmless bliss. I bad the waters gently glide, And vainly hush’d the heedless wind, Then, softly kneeling by her side, I stole a silent kiss—
She wak’d, and rising sweetly blush’d By far more artless than the dove: With eager haste I onward rush’d, And clasp’d her in my arms; Encircled thus in fond embrace Our panting hearts beat mutual love— A rosy-red o’er spread her face And brighten’d all her charms.
Silent she stood, and sigh’d consent To every tender kiss I gave; I closely urg’d—to church we went, And hymen join’d our hands. Ye swains behold my bliss complete; No longer then your own delay; Believe me love is doubly sweet In wedlocks holy bands.—
Content we tend our flocks by day, Each rural pleasures amply taste; And at the suns retiring ray Prepare for new delight: When from the field we haste away, And send our blithsome care to rest, We fondly sport and fondly play, And love away the night.
Cœlia’s an artful little slut; Be fond, she’ll kiss, et cetera—but She must have all her will; For, do but rub her ’gainst the grain Behold a storm, blow winds and rain, Go bid the waves be still.
So, stroking puss’s velvet paws How well the jade conceals her claws And purs; but if at last You hap to squeeze her somewhat hard, She spits—her back up—prenez garde; Good faith she has you fast.
Stay tuned for Hamilton in our Records, Song 2: Aaron Burr, Sir.
More online:
Papers of Alexander Hamilton, Founders Online
Archives Displays Hamilton’s Documents in Exhibit Incorporating Musical’s Lyrics, National Archives News
Conversation with Chernow, Kail, and Miranda at the 2016 Records of Achievement Award Ceremony