It would be everything, too. He’d only now begun to recover his law career after letting it go for all the years he’d been employed at the Treasury, and we’d just begun to climb to some small degree of prosperity. He’d had more time to spend with our children, and with me. For the first time in our marriage, we’d begun to talk of building a house that would be our own design, in the country and away from the city—a dream that would abruptly end if he were to accept this commission with its likely diminutive salary.
And if he returned to the army, there would always be the chance that he could once again find himself at risk and in danger. It wouldn’t matter that this time the enemy was French, not English. My fears for his safety would be the same as they’d been twenty years before against the British.
“You’d truly do that, Alexander?” I asked again, wanting us both to be sure of my question and his reply.
“If I were asked,” he said, too promptly for my tastes. “I would, yes. Think of it, Betsey: I’d be a general. If Washington leaves Mount Vernon for the sake of the country, then I could hardly turn him down.”
“You could for the sake of your family,” I said. “If you wished your sons and daughter to have any memories of you as their father, you would not even let your name be considered.”
He shook his head. “I can’t, my love,” he said solemnly. “My duty to my country—”
“No more,” I said, my patience gone. “Not tonight, Alexander. No more.”
We did not discuss it then, nor in the morning before I sailed. Instead the issue of the army remained like an unwanted specter between us, unseen and unmentioned but relentlessly present.
I understood the allure the army held for him, and always would. It wasn’t only a question of duty. As second-in-command to General Washington, he’d once more have the kind of far-reaching power to organize and create that he’d held as secretary of treasury. He’d again be in the thick of the government, with the respect and responsibilities that went with it. And exactly as his desire for advancement had led him to risk his life at the siege of Yorktown, now, for the sake of being a general he was willing to risk his family and his marriage.
With all of this unsaid between us, I left New York and retreated to The Pastures. The distance made little difference. Through letters that came nearly daily, Alexander persisted, alternating declarations of his boundless affection with delicately worded hints regarding my health and the state of my mind. I understood: by my health, he meant he didn’t want me to worry about him and the army, and the only real question about the state of my mind was whether I’d yet changed it to favor his hopes.
Nor did I find consolation this time at The Pastures. Despite my father’s pain and suffering, he was still able to take great pleasure in Alexander’s prospects. He’d already learned from his old friend General Washington of the plans for the new army, of how the general would again be commander-in-chief with Alexander his inspector general, and Papa was overjoyed by the prospect of another general in the family. The anger he’d felt last summer toward my husband had faded, and in its place he’d now only the highest praise for Alexander as an officer. Even my mother, who ordinarily cared little for politics, was delighted for Alexander.
In fact, I seemed to be the only one made unhappy by my husband’s new prospects, and by the time I returned to New York in late June, the appointments were already in Congress awaiting approval. President Adams was not nearly so agreeable. He resisted Alexander’s appointment as hard as he could, contriving all sorts of impediments to try to keep him from the office (including, in one particularly preposterous accusation, that Alexander could not qualify to be an American military leader because he was a foreigner, and not a citizen!). But in part because of General Washington’s insistence and in part because Alexander truly was the most qualified gentleman for the job, his appointment was at last confirmed, and he was now officially Major General Hamilton. I’d no choice for the peace of my family but to swallow my objections and acquiesce to my husband’s seeming good fortune.
As I’d expected, he threw himself headlong into his duties with his usual dedication and enthusiasm. There were few things my husband enjoyed more than creating systems and plans all the way to the smallest details, and inventing this army was no different. He devised everything from the most basic divisions of the planned army, the regiments, battalions, and companies, to the design of the tents, to the specifications of the weaponry, and even the most minute questions of military protocol. He lavished special care on the creation of the uniforms, and even before the army itself had been recruited, he was proudly wearing a uniform of his own design, lavished with gold lace and glinting epaulets that suited his military bearing.
Exactly as I’d feared, however, the corps proved a monumental task, though perhaps made more so by my husband’s fastidious attentions to detail, and compounded by a federal bureaucracy that seemed to thwart him at every step. He’d had a sizable staff to do his bidding whilst secretary of treasury, but he’d only a single twenty-year-old aide-de-camp to assist him now. This young man was Philip Church, my sister’s eldest son, and a well-bred, handsome young fellow he was, too. He was also thoroughly charming, as any son of Angelica’s was bound to be, but it was clear that he was more attentive to the ladies of New York than to his duties. Not that Alexander would ever rebuke him, especially not to Angelica, but I did wish he’d a more conscientious assistant to help with his labors.
I was hardly surprised when our own son Philip suggested that he might also serve as his father’s aide-de-camp: not surprised, but not pleased, either.
“He could be most useful to me, Betsey,” Alexander said, after our son had approached him. “He’ll also learn a great many useful things in the process.”
“No, Alexander,” I’d said firmly. “He is nearly done with his studies at Columbia, and then we’d agreed that he’d read for the law. The last thing I wish is for him to squander his talents in the army, toying with guns and squiring ladies about to balls.”
Alexander had frowned. “You’ve a sorry impression of the career of an aide-de-camp.”
“It’s an entirely accurate one,” I said, “formed from observing you in Morristown before you became attached to me.”
He’d no argument to answer that, and Philip remained in college.
Yet even Alexander himself couldn’t deny that he had spread himself too thin. As he built the army, he’d attempted to retain a handful of his legal clients to help with our finances. As a lawyer, he’d been earning over a thousand dollars a month, an agreeable amount to support a household of our size. But as inspector general, his income was reduced to a quarter of what it had been, and once again our family’s finances had tightened precipitously.