Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(39)

It was a heady time of chaos and change. Both young spouses contributed to the political and moral character of this new nation that had, against all odds, torn itself off from the most powerful empire on earth, and found itself in the unexpected position of having to decide what kind of nation it would be. Would it be a monarchy or a republic? A loose confederacy of thirteen competing states, or a unified polity whose far-flung and disparate regions each contributed their unique strengths to make up for the deficiencies and weaknesses of the others?

And above all, how would it conduct itself? Though the colonies had won their liberation from England, they had never been a purely English society. There were Irish, Welsh, and Scottish strains, for one thing—Alex’s father was born in Scotland, and though Alex knew little about him, he knew his father would raise his fists against any man who dared accuse him of being English. The Dutch legacy persevered in New York as well (both General and Mrs. Schuyler had been raised speaking Dutch as well as English, and still used the former language when they wanted to keep secrets from their children). The French influence was strong in the northeast, along the border with Canada, and west of the Mississippi, in the Louisiana Territory. The Spanish presence was strong in the deep south in Florida, where they supported the British cause during the Revolution, and along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. There were German and Swedish enclaves, and of course the large African population, consisting of 40 percent of the thirteen colonies’ people. The vast majority—but not all—had been brought to the New World as enslaved people. Regardless of their station, they made profound contributions to the new country through their labor, art, music, and tenacity, even though slavery would not be eradicated for nearly a century more—a profound injustice in the history of the new nation that just fought for its own freedom.

Then there were the Native populations that had been here when the Europeans arrived, hundreds of different tribes and confederacies and nations, some numbered only a few thousand, others had hundreds of thousands of members and commanded great swathes of land that dwarfed most of their European counterparts. As the annual Thanksgiving celebration reminded them, without Native American instruction and aid, most of the early European settlements would have perished. New World foodstuffs had made significant changes to the European diet, from potatoes to squash to tomatoes to corn, and of course tobacco—and chocolate!—and had changed the way Europeans conceived of creature comforts. Hundreds of words now peppered the language, from chili to chipmunk, from hurricane to hammock, from piranha to poncho to peyote, and with those words came ideas about how to relate to this land that Europeans had forcibly taken as their own, and christened “America.” Liberty and justice for all?

And so the myth of American exceptionalism was born, even as it managed to skirt the troubling history of its founding, that a nation dedicated to the ideals of freedom and justice was also established by the twin foundations of slavery and theft.

In any case, all these different cultures had unique strengths of character and industry, and no doubt many people would have been content to separate themselves according to culture and language and replicate Old World divisions in the New, state lines replacing national borders and people pushing ever westward when their neighbors grew too close. But more and more people realized that if the United States of America were to be truly united, they were going to have to forge a common national identity.

Chief among these visionaries was Alexander Hamilton, whose accomplishments during the Revolutionary War would soon be overshadowed by the work he did for the budding republic. Alex knew that the differences between people and points of view couldn’t be eliminated or ignored. Those differences had to be celebrated, and put to work for the good of the nation. As with most political ideals, such lofty sentiments were easier said than done. Fortunately, it had two tireless champions in Alexander and Elizabeth Hamilton—assuming, that is, they could harness their unique gifts to a single yoke, and finally learn to work as a team.





Part Two





Tearing Up Wall Street





12





American Honeymoon


   The Hamilton Town House


    New York, New York


   December 1783


At last, after three years of marriage, winning the war for Independence, surviving the Battle of Yorktown, and finally leaving the comforts of the Pastures, Alexander and Elizabeth Hamilton stood in front of a handsome three-story brick-and-brownstone town house located at 57 Wall Street, in New York City. With a little help from Eliza’s dowry, well-informed family connections whispering about a fantastic deal on a pretty little piece of well-located property, and Alex’s quick decision-making to snap it up before someone else did, it was theirs. The young husband’s hands shook as he unlocked the front door with the key. His wife stood behind him, eager and impatient to see their new abode. With a flourish, he opened both doors and turned to his bride with a smile. “Voilà!”

Eliza clasped her hands in delight, and Alex’s eyes softened to see how sweet she looked in the late afternoon sunlight, the golden rays shining on the chestnut tendrils of her hair. This was home now, their home, his home. After years of living as a student and a soldier, and a guest at his in-laws’ sumptuous residence, he finally had a place to call his own. “Hold on,” he said, before Eliza could take another step.