I, Eliza Hamilton



The first lodging that Alexander and I shared together as husband and wife was also the smallest house in which I ever lived. New Windsor had been chosen as the site of this year’s winter encampment for its location on the Hudson River near the fort at West Point and not far from the city of New York, strategic advantages to an army. The benefits to those of us who followed the army were not as evident, and the word I heard most often to describe it was dreary—which it was. Unlike Morristown, the site of last winter’s encampment, New Windsor was scarcely more than a village, and as such lacked a sufficient number of agreeable houses for quartering officers. Even His Excellency was compelled to make his headquarters in William Ellison’s uncomfortably small farmhouse, as far removed from Mrs. Ford’s splendid house as could be.

Our house was in the village, and consisted of a single room that served as kitchen, parlor, and bedchamber combined, with a ladder to a loft above, where our servants slept. Off in one corner of this room was an old Dutch box, or cupboard bed, such as was used since the days when New York was New Amsterdam. This style of bed was unfamiliar to Alexander, and vastly entertaining, too. Each night we’d climb into this bed and close its doors after us to create a snug, dark little room of our own. The doors made it much warmer than an English bed with drafty curtains, and much more intimate, as Alexander soon came to realize, and relish. But then marriage agreed with us both so much that we found delight in everything we did, so long as it was together.

At the same time, I was surprised by how much I missed my family, especially my mother. I’d bid the most tearful farewell to her, for I wouldn’t see her again before she was once more brought to childbed. Because of her age, I feared for her and for the coming baby, too. In the years of her marriage to Papa, she’d lost seven children as infants (including a pair of twins and a set of triplets), an ominous pattern that I secretly dreaded for myself. Mamma, however, had only smiled serenely at my concerns, and said whatever came to pass would be God’s will, not mine, which made me pray even more fervently both for her safe deliverance and a child of my own.

It was perhaps for this reason that I was especially grateful for the presence in camp of Lady Washington. She had shown great kindness toward me last winter, and she continued her favor now to the extent that I felt genuine friendship between us. I spent most afternoons in her company, and together we poured tea and entertained senior officers, their wives, and His Excellency’s other guests in the headquarters’ parlor. To be sure, this was a role I’d been well prepared to play, given how many diverse guests my parents had welcomed to our house over the years, but I believe it pleased Lady Washington to have another lady beside her to help share her responsibilities and make her guests at ease.

It also pleased me to be near to Alexander during the day, with him at work beside His Excellency, and I in another room in the same house with Lady Washington. We seldom saw each other—Alexander’s duties were so various and pressing that he’d no unoccupied time to spend with me—but simply knowing he was near was a sufficient comfort to me.

I only wished that Alexander could have said the same. After his recent disappointments in regard to promotions and opportunities, I’d been well aware of his unhappiness, particularly with His Excellency. This had only increased since he had returned to New Windsor.

For various reasons, all the other aides-de-camp had left the General’s Family, and from a full staff of eleven aides, the number had now dwindled to one, and that one was Alexander. (Another aide-de-camp, Tench Tilghman, was still considered a member of the Family, but constant plagues of ill health often forced him to be absent.) The amount of work Alexander was expected to complete would have crushed a less conscientious man; in the first five weeks after his return, he told me wearily that he had drafted over fifty letters, many in French, for His Excellency, in addition to even more composed and sent over his own name as aide-de-camp.

For nearly five years, Alexander had been with His Excellency nearly every day and often into the night. I’d only known the general in passing, as the commander-in-chief, as one of my father’s closest friends, and as the much-loved husband of Lady Washington. Like most citizens, I was in awe of him, for his imposing height and figure, for his confidence, reserve, and bravery. No one was more heroic and emblematic of our fledging country than His Excellency, especially while riding the white horse he always favored.

Soon after I had arrived and was sitting sewing with Lady Washington, I was witness to a feat of purest strength by the general. Several townswomen who earned money by laundering officers’ linens were standing over their large oaken washtubs in the yard, not far from headquarters. Of a sudden, one of them began to point and shout with incoherent distress, and then ran into the parlor where Lady Washington and I were sitting at our sewing.

“My lady, oh, my lady!” she cried without bothering with any customary signs of greeting or respect. “Sparks from the chimney’ve lit the roof of the shed a-fire! All will be lost, my lady, all lost!”

We rushed from the door after her in fearful haste, and stared up at the roof of the shed, which adjoined the house. A recent spate of clear days had blown the roof clear of snow, and now flames licked across and through the dry shingles. Sentries were running to the well to pull buckets of water, but the fire had a fair start upon them, and it appeared that headquarters would be next to burn.

While the soldier and washing-women flustered about in panic, we heard a great clattering down the stairs inside, and His Excellency himself ran from the house. Instantly appraising the situation, he didn’t issue orders, as I’d expected, but instead himself seized the largest oak tub of soapy wash water and carried it into the house and up the stairs, the soapy water splashing out on either side.

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