Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton, 16 October 1781
[Yorktown, Virginia, October 16, 1781]
Two nights ago, my Eliza, my duty and my honor obliged me to take a step in which your happiness was too much risked. I commanded an attack upon one of the enemy’s redoubts; we carried it in an instant, and with little loss. You will see the particulars in the Philadelphia papers. There will be, certainly, nothing more of this kind; all the rest will be by approach; and if there should be another occasion, it will not fall to my turn to execute it.
(source)
Such a short letter, and yet it conveys so much and makes me have thoughts. Only 86 words, I would suppose it was likely sent in a great hurry, Hamilton writing quickly to assure Eliza that he was well. He said so himself that she would “see the particulars in the Philadelphia papers”, meaning she would likely be seeing that he himself had participated in the battle, and he wanted her to have something written in his own hand to reassure her that he was okay, that he hadn’t been injured or worse.
We know Hamilton had been wanting a command for years, practically harassing Washington for one, and used his break with Washington earlier in the year to further his campaign to obtain one (which eventually succeeded). Hamilton wanted to use his military service and the glory he’d gain for serving on the field as a springboard into higher things after the war. And yet here, in the aftermath of achieving his goal, one does not get the sense that he feels any triumph in achieving his objective. Now, he could very well be controlling himself, keeping his letter short and sedate for the sake of Eliza’s feelings, since Hamilton was likely concerned that she might panic if she found out he had been on the front lines and in mortal danger. She was also pregnant with their first child at the time, so one can imagine he was also concerned that the news might shock her into a miscarriage.
Still, it’s the last sentence that gets my attention. Hamilton tells Eliza that he will not be repeating this stunt, that if there is more fighting, he will not be involved. Hamilton had seen action before (see his adventures during the 1776 New York campaign where he did some absolutely insane shit, along with his involvement with the Battle of Trenton, and antics at the Battle of Princeton where he blasted away at Nassau Hall with cannons).
Hamilton struck me as someone who craved military glory (which isn’t surprising, given who he hung out with - I’m looking at you Laurens, Lafayette!). And yet, after gaining it, he seems very firm in his resolution to be done with it. Now, again, this may just be a case of him wanting to do everything he can to reassure his pregnant wife that he’s not going to “take [another] step in which [her] happiness was [...] risked,” a.k.a. throw himself into a deadly situation that could get him killed and leave her alone (no, he’d save that for later on).
I could be reading too much into it, but this sounds like a man who is very much *done* with military life. Which, IMO, sounds about right. I mean, this is a guy who joined the cause in 1776 and then never took a vacation until 1780, when he took leave to get married. In his letters to Eliza (and others) in both this period and during their courtship, he talks frequently of the conflict between being a soldier and a married man, and how difficult it is to focus on military matters when all he wants to do is go hang out with and bask in the presence of his girlfriend/wife. This letter kind of feels like the culmination of that conflict - Hamilton has done what he needed to do to further his career prospects after the war (he can rightfully say that he saw action during the war and wasn’t just manning George’s journal writing letters for Washington), so now he can and he *will* move on. And that includes settling into a family life with Eliza.
And Hamilton doesn’t stick around Yorktown long. After the surrender, he makes a steady-paced journey from there to Albany (though he does stop in a few places, according to recent-ish research by Michael Newton - I have got to read this man’s books). Once in Albany, he battles a long illness that leaves him bedridden for quite a while, begins his law studies, and is present for the birth of his first child, Philip Hamilton. It’s pretty clear that Hamilton threw himself into civilian life at this point, and was discharged from the army by the end of 1782 or so. He wants to move on from being a soldier, and encourages Laurens to do the same in the last letter he wrote to the man (the one Laurens never read because he was too busy getting himself killed before it could each him), telling him to “quit your sword [...] put on a toga, come to Congress.”
This letter marks the beginning of period of transition for Hamilton, going from soldier to civilian/politician/lawyer/family man/whatever else he needs/wants to be. One door closes, another opens, and all that.
