I, Eliza Hamilton. Susan Holloway Scott
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spilling over. “Your family has power and wealth, too, Kitty, and no one says that of you.”
Kitty gave a small, dismissive shrug to her shoulders that was also faintly pitying. “That’s because no suitor of mine has been as impoverished and without a respectable family as Colonel Hamilton.”
I don’t believe she intended to wound me or insult Alexander, but her words still stung.
“Colonel Hamilton possesses qualities and virtues that are worth far more than mere wealth,” I said warmly. “I value him for himself, not for his family or fortune.”
She nodded and fell silent, and remained silent so long that I feared I’d spoken too much. I was almost ready to apologize when she finally spoke again.
“Oh, Eliza,” she said softly. “You care for dear little Hamilton that much?”
“I do,” I said so quickly that I startled myself. Yet it was true; I couldn’t deny it, nor did I wish to.
“How fortunate you are!” she said wistfully. “How fortunate you are! I have yet to have such sentiments for any gentleman.”
“That can’t be true, Kitty, not of you.” Kitty was a belle, a beauty, and always surrounded by admirers at every ball and assembly in a way that they never had been for me.
By the glow of the sleigh’s lanterns, the edge of Kitty’s hood shadowed her face, and all I saw was her half smile, a smile that had lost all its earlier humor. Carefully she lifted her hood back over her shoulders, and the light twinkled in the paste stars she’d pinned into her elaborately dressed and powdered hair, all icy-white as if she were a snow queen incarnate. She turned, and now I could see the entirety of her face, and the concern in her eyes.
“You asked me earlier to speak plainly, and I shall,” she said, covering my hand with her own. “Take care of your heart, Eliza, and do not give it blindly. Perhaps I know Hamilton too well, and I know what he aspires to be. He is ambitious, and he is determined, and he won’t let anything or anyone stop him.”
“If you mean Alexander will achieve great things in his life, Kitty,” I said, “then we agree, as friends should.”
“Hamilton charms the world and makes friends with ease,” she said, “but he also makes enemies, and the higher he rises—and he will rise high—the more hazardous those enemies shall be to you both.”
“I don’t believe it, Kitty,” I said, the only proper answer to unwanted advice, and pulled away my hand. “None of it, not of Alexander.”
“Believe it or not, as it pleases you.” She glanced down at her muff, avoiding my gaze. “His character is widely known among the other officers, and many of the other ladies here, too. But if your father isn’t troubled by Hamilton’s flaws and faults, then why should you be?”
“Papa isn’t,” I said quickly. “Nor am I.”
“Then I’ll never speak of the matter again.” She darted forward and kissed me on the cheek, her lips cold. “Of all women I know, Eliza, I pray you’ll be happy, no matter which gentleman you marry. Now come, let’s dance, and break every heart we can.”
* * *
A dancing assembly held by subscription (I’d heard the extravagant sum to be $400 a gentleman, but that was at the inflated rate of our then-near-worthless paper bills) and supported by thirty-four of the most esteemed officers of our army sounds like a grand affair. For us wintering in Morristown, it was. But if I had heard described the conditions of this self-proclaimed assembly whilst still in Albany, I would have laughed aloud.
Instead of taking place in an inn or private residence of the first quality, this assembly was held in a military storehouse built by the army near the Morristown Green. Now emptied of goods, the storehouse was as full of echoes as a barn, and like most barns, it had been built for rough service, without any amenities or decoration; I would venture it to be seventy feet in length, and forty in breadth. A pair of crude cast-iron stoves stoked with wood were the sole sources of heat in this cavernous room, and lanterns for light had been strung along the walls on a length of rope. Both the stoves and the inferior tallow candles in the lanterns smoked, and even this early in the evening there was a haze gathered just below the ceiling beams.
The stables for my father’s horses in Albany were more elegantly appointed than this space, and yet the guests gathered here were as brilliant a company as any in our country. Most of the officers wore their dress uniforms, and the lanterns’ light glanced off gold bullion lace, polished brass buttons, and medals and other honors.
Of course, we ladies were not to be outdone, and our gowns were like bright silk flowers of every color. Our hair was powdered and dressed high on our heads, and ornamented with silk flowers, ribbons, paste jewels, and even a plume or two. To be so expensively and stylishly attired in the middle of a war might seem to some to be wrong, even disrespectful, but as Aunt Gertrude noted, our finery could be wonderfully cheering to the spirits of the gentlemen in the army, and proof to the British that we refused to be subdued. We ladies were also in the minority, with more than three times as many gentlemen in attendance; there’d be no wallflowers tonight, that was certain.
I’d chosen my own gown with care, a brilliant silk taffeta that was neither blue nor green but a shimmering combination of both, much like a peacock’s plumage. Being small in stature, I often wore vibrant colors so I wouldn’t be overlooked in company. The sleeves and bodice were close-fitting and the skirts very full over hoops, as was the fashion then, and the neckline was cut low over my breasts, with a thin edging of lace from my shift. Around my throat was a strand of glass pearls fastened with a large white silk bow, and earrings of glittering paste jewels hung from my ears, my mother having wisely decided that the encampment was no place for fine jewels. Unlike most of the ladies, from choice I wore no paint on my face. I suspected my cheeks were rosy enough without it because of the cold and the excitement, and I also suspected that Alexander would be like other gentlemen, and prefer me without it.
At least he might once I found him. I scanned the guests eagerly, searching for the one face I longed to see above all others, but in vain. The assembly’s subscribers stood in a line near the door to greet newcomers, and as I waited my turn I continued to look for Alexander. Other gentlemen appeared to ask me for dances and though I smiled, I turned them aside. Alexander was one of the subscribers, and he’d invited me as his guest. How could he not be here?
“Where’s Hamilton, I wonder?” Kitty murmured beside me. “He’s usually one of the earliest to arrive at these affairs.”
“He’ll be here,” I said swiftly, as much to reassure myself as to defend him. “I don’t doubt him.”
Kitty smiled slyly over the spreading arc of her fan. “He’d do well to appear soon, or else some other gentleman will scoop you up, especially in that gown.”
I didn’t smile, because I’d no wish to be scooped up by anyone other than Alexander. We’d almost come to the end of the line anyway, and to my surprise the last person in it was Lady Washington, alone and without General Washington.
I had called upon Lady Washington several times since my arrival in Morristown, and she’d graciously taken a liking to me, and I to her. It would be impossible not to hold her in the highest regard: she was that rarest of ladies who could put anyone at ease in an instant, and make them feel like the oldest and dearest of friends.
She was of middle age when we met, still handsome if a bit stout, her large, dark eyes full of warmth and her speech soft with Virginia gentility. She was known for her rich taste in dress, and tonight she wore a dark green damask gown with a neckerchief of fine French lace and a magnificent garnet necklace with earrings to match.
“Miss Eliza, I am so glad that you have joined us,” she said as I curtseyed before her. “How your beauty graces our little gathering!”
“Thank you, Lady Washington,” I said, blushing with pleasure at her compliment. “You are most kind.”
She raised