Wednesday afternoon.
To Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton,
No. 57 Wall Street.
And still another letter, illustrating his tender solicitude is this:
I was made very happy, my beloved Betsey, by the receipt of your letter, informing me that one of mine had at length got to hand and that your spirits were recovered. I had suffered not a little at the idea that I must have appeared to you negligent, nor am I able to imagine what can have become of my other letters. There is certainly some very foul and abominable practice, which it will not be my fault, if I do not detect.
You said that you would not stay longer at Albany than twenty days which would bring it to the first of September. How delighted shall I be to receive you again to my bosom and to embrace with you my precious children! And yet, much as I long for this happy moment, my extreme anxiety for the restoration of your health will reconcile me to your staying longer where you are upon condition that you really receive benefit from it, and that your own mind is at rest. But I do not believe that I shall permit you to be so long absent from me another time.
Be cheerful, be happy my beloved, and if possible return to your husband with that sweet bloom on your looks which can never fail to delight him.
You must inform me beforehand when you set out. My intention is to meet you at Elizabeth Town. For I am unwilling to go through the bustle of another visit to New York so soon after my last.
Think of me—dream of me—and love me my Betsey as I do you.
Yrs. for ever, A. Hamilton.
Aug. 21,
Mrs. Hamilton.
There was at all times not a little sadness and sober sentiment mixed with concern as to her welfare.
The lightheartedness, which at times he manifested until the very end of his life appeared all the more striking when the stress and strain under which he labored are taken into consideration, and we bear in mind that he was constantly engaged with important public matters, some of the utmost seriousness. Most men would have been crushed by the malignant assaults of enemies who never ceased to lay traps and pitfalls, but these he easily avoided and laughed at because of his absolute consciousness of rectitude and his easy conscience.
There was something almost feminine in Hamilton's gentleness and concern for the comfort and happiness of other people. It is a matter of tradition that he endeared the soldiers of his own company to him by sharing their hardships, and providing them with necessities out of his own almost empty pocket. With his own children he was ever tender, entering into their sports, and forgetting all his serious cares for the moment. When New York and Philadelphia were crowded with refugees he would hunt up the poorest, and direct his wife to send food and little delicacies for the women and children. It had been his habit to travel upon the Circuit, as was the custom in those days with the different judges. One of these was Chancellor Kent, who told a story illustrating Hamilton's consideration and thoughtfulness. After a disagreeable, wintry ride of many miles they reached a comfortless inn. Kent had gone to bed early after a jolly evening which broke up prematurely as Kent was out of sorts. The night was cold, and the kindly nature of Hamilton was evidently disturbed by the indisposition of his friend. On his retiring he entered Judge Kent's room bearing an extra blanket, which he insisted on tucking carefully about the recumbent figure saying, "Sleep warm, little Judge, and get well. What should we do if anything should happen to you?"
He had a love of the fine arts and was something of a print collector and an amateur painter, for it appears he advised Mrs. Washington in regard to the paintings she bought; but his purse was evidently too small to gratify his own tastes in this direction. Not only does his expense book contain items showing the occasional modest purchase of a print/ but he left behind numerous wood and copper line engravings and etchings, that to-day would be very valuable. I distinctly remember a set of Mantegna's superb chiaro-oscuro of the "Triumph of Caesar," and a particularly fine Dürer which were in my father's possession; but the others have been scattered and can no longer be identified.
He had a rich voice, and rendered the songs of the day, among which was "The Drum," which he last sung at a meeting of the Cincinnati, a few days before the duel with Burr, which ran:
'Twas in the merry month of May
When bees from flower to flower did hum.
Soldiers through the town marched gay.
The village flew to the sound of the drum.
The clergyman sat in his study within
Devising new ways to battle with sin:
A knock was heard at the parsonage door,
And the Sergeant's sword clanged on the floor.
"We're going to war, and when we die
We'll want a man of God near by.
So bring your Bible and follow the drum.
His daughter Angelica often accompanied him upon the piano or harp, and appears to have been given all the advantages of a musical education.
It has been said that Hamilton was vain. Gouvemeur Morrisy, whose cynicism and disposition to patronize his contemporaries was notorious, and who was said to be a friend of Hamilton's, and helped others to disentangle his affairs after his death seems to have been the only person to think him vain. At least no other available reference can be found where this criticism has been made, although in a vituperative age he undoubtedly came in for his share of abuse. Morris in his Diary thus soliloquizes after he had been asked by Mr. Hammond to deliver the funeral oration of his friend: "The first point of his biography is that he was a stranger of illegitimate birth; some plan must be contrived to pass over this handsomely. He was indiscreet, vain, and opinionated," and so he continues, making mental reservations, and damning the dead man with faint praise; yet on the 14th of July he delivered a fulsome funeral oration, seeming to have gotten over the struggle with himself as to what was "safe" to say and what to omit. Disregarding the humiliating confession Hamilton had made in the Reynolds case, to save his honor when accused of peculation, Morris said, "I must not either dwell on his domestic life: he has long since foolishly published the avowal of conjugal infidelity." After his return from the funeral he adds: "I find that what I have said does not answer the general expectation."
While it is true that Hamilton had very decided opinions of his own, and undoubtedly was self-reliant and enthusiastically assertive, there is not a letter or published paper of his that indicates the existence of the least vanity or boastfulness—in fact, he never indulged in self-exploitation, but as a rule submerged himself. As an evidence of his modes may be instanced the anonymous letter he wrote to Robert Morris, then a member of Congress in 1780, recommending a financial scheme that undoubtedly led to his being made Secretary of the Treasury. If Morris wished to know more of the views of his unknown correspondent, he was to address James Montague, Esq.— b, lodger in the post office of Morristown," which would be a safe channel for all communications. It must be admitted that, although he prepared a large number of public papers and wrote many of Washington's letters in the field, and had a great deal to do with the preparation of the Farewell Address of the latter, he, upon no occasion, attempted to profit by what he did, or to glorify himself in any way, and it appears beyond question that he always assumed the position of one who toiled with others for the production of a common result, without thinking of reward, either in the nature of approbation or material return. At a time when the lawlessness of the French Republic had extended to the United States, Hamilton was called an aristocrat; and even before this he had been sneered at by his opponents at the Poughkeepsie Convention, Melancthon Smith having "thanked his God that he was a plebeian." A great deal of the dislike of decency, and contempt for blood and brains existed, and found vent in socialistic and even anarchistic conflicts with good order. Possibly some of this abuse was due to Hamilton's advocacy of our obligation to another foreign power,