As we walked, my thoughts were more ordinary: how best to remake over an old jacket of Philip’s to fit James; remembering that Angelica’s music-master was coming for her lesson tomorrow, not Thursday; and whether I’d have time this afternoon to bake a pie for supper with the last of the Albany apples stored in the cellar.
But mostly I enjoyed the time with my husband, however silent he might be, and the peace to be found from walking through the city. Although I considered myself a staunch daughter of New York, I will admit that Philadelphia had much to recommend it as a capital. Unlike New York, with its maze of crooked streets crowded into the narrow tip of its island, Philadelphia had been arranged from its inception into a tidy grid of streets named after trees from east to west, and numbers from north to south, making it convenient for both residents and visitors.
In the seven years since Alexander, Philip, and I had first lived here, the city had changed and prospered, with every last reminder of the war wiped away. But then, I thought wryly, the same could be said of Alexander and me, too, couldn’t it?
When we finally returned to our house, Alexander went immediately (and silently) to his library and began writing his defense. He had promised it to the president on Wednesday morning, and late Tuesday evening he summoned me again to help him take down his draft and write out a fair copy. We toiled together through most of the night, but when the sun rose, he had his defense ready to present, all forty neatly written pages of it in my sloping hand.
The president read it, accepted all my husband’s arguments, and signed the bill into law. Alexander had once again achieved another goal, and the country would have its first national bank.
And the rift between Alexander and Mr. Jefferson widened, and grew deeper still.
But while my husband had won, in March my father lost in a most shocking way. Running for reelection for his seat in the Senate, he was upset by a man who possessed none of my father’s wisdom, his loyalty, or most of all, his honor.
Alexander was furious, and convinced that the usurper had been supported by Governor Clinton as another way to attack my husband through his family. This alliance became even more disturbing when Alexander learned that both Mr. Jefferson and Colonel Monroe had made a special journey to New York to meet with the new senator, and, it was rumored, to plot together the downfall of the secretary of the treasury.
The man who defeated my father and became the new senator from New York was Aaron Burr.
*
While Philadelphia was an agreeable city three seasons of the year, it became intolerable in the summer. Though often extreme, the heat alone was not the reason that most everyone who could afford another residence in the country fled the city in the months of July through September. The summer brought fevers, and Philadelphia in particular had become notorious for some of the worst outbreaks of yellow fever in the country, killing people old and young by the dozens.
From the beginning of our tenure there, Alexander and I had decided that while he must remain for work, I would leave with the children during the most dangerous season, and take them to The Pastures. Not only would they be safer there in the country air, but it was also an unspoken way for us to economize. Alexander still refused any financial help from my father, but he wasn’t above letting my parents feed his family while they visited, a not inconsiderable expense.
This year, too, I felt it imperative that I visit my father, who was chagrined and in low spirits from having lost his seat in the Senate. I had grown accustomed to having him nearby whenever Congress had been in session, first in New York and then in Philadelphia, and I sorely missed his presence.
Though I was loath to admit it, I was also anticipating a sojourn in the country for myself. Though my duties as the wife of the secretary of the treasury were not nearly so onerous as my husband’s, I was expected to entertain not only his various friends within Congress, but also general supporters of the president. The creation of the first bank and the flurry of financial confusion that followed meant that Alexander needed every ally that could be mustered, and I’d been willing to do my part.
To be sure, I enjoyed helping him in this way, but I won’t deny that it wasn’t inconsiderable work, not the least of which was keeping a pleasant smile for all who entered our house. Lady Washington had taught me well. The wives of statesmen must mingle and charm, and through their conversations more statesmanship is accomplished than perhaps their husbands realize.
It was a curious coincidence—or perhaps not, given their unpleasant personalities—that neither Mr. Jefferson, a widower, nor Mr. Madison, a confirmed bachelor, had a wife in the city to represent their interests. At least Mr. Adams, another who considered my husband objectionable, had brought his wife to Philadelphia, and while I found Mrs. Adams daunting, we were more agreeable to each other than our husbands ever were, which I hope in turn eased the business between the gentlemen. (And yes, I heard from others that Mrs. Adams did in fact believe my Alexander to be a coxcomb and worse, exactly as my sister had predicted; although Mrs. Adams herself had the good grace not to say it to my face.) But though I wasn’t as exhausted as Lady Washington—who so loathed her official responsibilities that she referred to herself as the “first prisoner of the state” rather than first lady—this degree of social gaiety was undeniably tiring, and I welcomed the excuse to put it aside for the summer. I was determined not to slip into the same private misery that had plagued me before, and returning to The Pastures with my children seemed the best way to do so.
I also wondered privately if the hectic pace of our lives was responsible for my not conceiving another child. I had been breeding regularly since Philip was born, but now James Alexander was three, and there’d been no sign of another babe to follow him. I was only thirty-four. If it were God’s will that we would be blessed with four children and no more, then I would be content, but I often caught myself thinking of a new baby, and prayed my days of childbearing weren’t quite done yet. I also wished that Alexander could join us in Albany, for he, too, was in sore need of a respite, and I hated to picture him alone as any other bachelor for the summer in our large, echoing house.