“I do not know of any misdeed, Democratic or Republican or otherwise, that is more loathsome than the sin of adultery,” he thundered. “I have always regarded your husband as another son, Eliza, but to see what he has done to humiliate and betray my daughter makes me realize how misplaced my affection has been.”
“Please don’t think that way of him, Papa,” I pleaded. “It was all a plot to discredit him by Mr. Madison and the others. That woman seduced him with the intent to create a scandal.”
“No man is ever unwillingly seduced, Eliza,” he said acidly. “Your husband admits that himself. This whore parted her legs for him, and he hadn’t the strength to resist.”
I blushed, for there really was no way even I could contrive an explanation for that particular act.
“I’m sorry I ever welcomed him into this house,” my father went on. “I’m doubly sorry I trusted him as an officer and an honorable gentleman, and gave you to him as his wife.”
“Papa, please,” I said, my hands clasped tightly before me. “If I can forgive him his sin against me, then I pray that you can find it in your heart to forgive him as well.”
At once I realized what I’d just said. Was I in truth able to forgive him? Was I ready to do so?
“You are under no obligation to return to him, Eliza,” my father said sternly. “No one will fault you for it after this. You will do better to remain here, and send for the other children as well.”
“Thank you, Papa,” I said, but I knew it would be for my heart, not my father, to decide.
*
As I soon learned, there was little public sympathy for my husband, and less forgiveness. People were alternately shocked, appalled, or scornful. One or two of Alexander’s oldest friends applauded his courage, but for the most part he was skewered and ridiculed. Few saw the malicious hand of the Democratic-Republicans at work, and concentrated instead only on the sordid affair with Mrs. Reynolds. Yet each word of mockery and criticism began to strengthen my resolve that Alexander and I would confront this together. Who would dare fault him if I were at his side?
But there was no such decency to be found in the Democratic-Republican newspapers. Echoing their malevolent masters, they attacked not only Alexander, but me as well. They accused me of being not his lawful wife, but only one more lascivious sultana in his harem. They chided me for tolerating what I hadn’t known had happened. In language stolen from the Holy Bible itself, they chastised me: “Art thou a wife? See him, whom thou hast chosen as thy partner of this life, lolling in the lap of a harlot!”
Yet their harangues didn’t shame me, so much as anger me on my husband’s behalf.
The first week of September, I returned home to New York, and to him.
He and Philip were waiting on the same dock as when they’d bid us farewell. Although Alexander and I had agreed not to write to each other while I was in Albany, I had heard by way of my sister Angelica that he’d been thoroughly miserable, battered by his enemies, the newspapers, and even well-meaning friends over the pamphlet.
As the sloop pulled close to the dock, I stood on the deck beside the rail, rocking back and forth with little William in my arms. There’d be no missing me: I wore an extravagantly foolish hat that my mother had insisted on buying for me in Albany, with wide red silk ribbons like streamers that tossed around my face. The closer we came, the more I tried to gauge Alexander’s humor. I could see he’d his customary half smile, but I sensed that he was as uneasy about greeting me as I was him.
He was the first up the gangplank, bounding on board to reach me with a younger man’s agility. He came striding to me with purpose, and just before he reached me he swept off his hat, and stopped.
“Good day, Mrs. Hamilton,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “Welcome home.”
All I could think of at that moment was how glad I was to see him. I reached up, rested my free hand on his shoulder to steady myself, and kissed him awkwardly on the cheek. He smiled, and I smiled and for now that was enough.
*
Despite the trouble that Alexander’s pamphlet had brought us, in the end it did accomplish what he’d set out to do. His reputation at the Treasury was again secured, and considered beyond reproach. If in the process he was now considered a libertine and an adulterer, then he (and I) accepted it, our heads high.
Others did not. President and Mrs. Adams were particularly outspoken in their name-calling, practically hissing like snakes in their vehemence as they defamed my husband as the most lubricious and lewd rake in the country.
But likewise we learned who our true friends were: Robert Troup, Gouvener Morris, Rufus King, Robert Morris, Robert McHenry, and many more besides, from the Treasury, from Congress, from the legal profession, and even from his long-ago days in the army and at King’s College. These gentlemen rallied about us and supported Alexander, choosing to value him for his many qualities rather than cast him aside for a single misstep. There were even rumors that, with relations between our country and France deteriorating, Alexander might be called back to service in the government, his talents and experience too useful to be ignored.
The greatest among these loyal gentlemen showed his loyalty to my husband in an unexpected way. From President and Mrs. Washington came the gift of a splendid silver cooler for holding wine, and a note with a pledge of friendship and regard that I treasured always:
I pray you to present my best wishes, in which Mrs. Washington joins me, to Mrs. Hamilton and the family, and that you would be persuaded that with every sentiment of the highest regard, I remain your sincere friend and affectionate honorable servant.
Somehow we managed to escape the dismal days of that summer, and I could only praise God and His mercy that we had. In September I held a small dinner that was also a kind of thanksgiving, with the Churches, our own family, and several of our closest friends besides.
Yet even among the feasting and merriment and toasts, I fretted over my oldest son, Philip, who’d been included in the party. He was excelling at his studies at nearby Columbia, and there was every expectation that he would follow in Alexander’s path and triumph in the law. As proud as I was of him, I worried that, also like his father, he worked too hard to the detriment of his health, and on this night he seemed quiet and pale, and thoroughly unlike his usual high-spirited self. He’d developed a hacking sort of cough as well, and as mothers will, after the cloth was drawn I drew him aside from the others to make inquiries and press my palm to his forehead.
“I’m perfectly well, Mamma,” he said. “I’ve much to do for my recitations, but it’s nothing that can’t be completed in time.”
“I don’t like the sound of that cough,” I said with concern. “I don’t want to think of all you boys coughing away like that together in class.”
He smiled, albeit too wanly for my tastes. “I assure you, I will be fine,” he said. “But if you don’t mind, I believe I’ll beg off the brandy tonight, and retire for the evening. My head aches as well, doubtless from too much reading.”