now Dey Street, New York, talking to himself in an undertone, and
apparently in deep thought. The neighbors knew the slight, dark-eyed
lad, as the "young West Indian," and wondered concerning his future.
When he was seventeen, a "great meeting in the fields" was held in New
York, July 6, 1774. While Hamilton was studying, the colonies of America
had been looking over into the promised land of freedom, driven thither
by some unwise task-masters. Boston had seasoned the waters of the
Atlantic with British tea. New York, well filled with Tories, yet had
some Patriots, who felt that the hour was approaching when all must
stand together in the demand for liberty. Accordingly, the "great
meeting" was called, to teach the people the lessons of the past and the
duties of the future.
Hamilton had recently returned from a visit to Boston, and was urged to
be present and speak at the meeting. He at first refused, being a
stranger in the country and unknown. He attended, however; and when
several speakers had addressed the eager crowds, thoughts flowed into
the youth's mind and pleaded for utterance. He mounted the platform. The
audience stared at the stripling. Then, as he depicted the long endured
oppression from England, urged the wisdom of resistance, and painted in
glowing colors the sure success of the colonies, the hearts of the
multitude took fire with courage and hope. When he closed, they shouted,
"It is a collegian! it is a collegian!"
Hamilton was no longer a West Indian; he was, heart and soul, an
American. Liberty now grew more exciting than college books. Dr.
Seabury, afterwards Bishop of Connecticut, wrote two tracts entitled
"Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the Continental Congress," and
"Congress Canvassed by a Westchester Farmer." These pamphlets attempted
to show the foolishness of opposing a monarchy like England. They were
scattered broadcast.
Then tracts appeared in answer; clear, terse, sound, and able. These
said, "No reason can be assigned why one man should exercise any power
or preeminence over his fellow-creatures more than another, unless they
have voluntarily vested him with it. Since, then, Americans have not, by
any act of theirs, empowered the British Parliament to make laws for
them, it follows they can have no just authority to do it.... If, by the
necessity of the thing, manufactures should once be established, and
take root among us, they will pave the way still more to the future
grandeur and glory of America; and, by lessening its need of external
commerce, will render it still securer against the encroachments of
tyranny."
This was rank heterodoxy toward a power which had crippled the
manufactures of America in all possible ways, and wished to keep her a
great agricultural country. "The sacred rights of mankind," said the
writer, "are not to be rummaged for among old parchments or musty
records; they are written, as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of
human nature, by the hand of the Divinity itself, and can never be
erased or obscured by mortal power." The wonder grew as to the
authorship of these pamphlets. Some said John Jay wrote them; some said
Governor Livingstone. When it was learned that Hamilton, only eighteen,
had composed them, the Tories stood aghast, and the Patriots saw that a
new star had risen in the heavens.
Hamilton knew that the war was inevitable; that the time must soon come
for which he longed when he wrote to his friend Ned, "I wish there was a
war." He immediately began to study military affairs. There are always
places to be filled by those who make themselves ready. He was learning
none too early. His corps, called the "Hearts of Oak" in green uniforms
and leathern caps, drilled each morning. While engaged in removing
cannon from the battery, a boat from the Asia, a British ship-of-war,
fired into the men, killing the person who stood next to Hamilton. At
once the drums were beaten, and the people rushed to arms. The king's
store-houses were pillaged, and the "Liberty Boys" marched through the
streets, threatening revenge on every Tory.
Young Hamilton, fearless before the Asia, could also be fearless in
defence of his friends. Dr. Cooper, the President of Columbia College,
was a pronounced Tory. When the mob approached the steps of the
institution, Hamilton, nothing daunted, appeared before them, and urged
coolness, lest they bring "disgrace on the cause of liberty." Dr. Cooper
imagined that his liberal pupil was assisting the mob, and cried out
from an upper window, "Don't listen to him, gentlemen! he is crazy, he
is crazy!" But the mob did listen, and the president was saved from
harm.
The Revolutionary War had begun. Lexington and Bunker Hill were as
beacon-fires to the new nation. In 1776, the New York Convention ordered
a company of artillery to be raised, and Hamilton applied for the
command of it. Only nineteen, and very boyish in looks, his fitness for
the position was doubted, till his excellent examination proved his
knowledge, and he was appointed captain. He used the last money sent
him by his relatives in the West Indies, to equip his company.
College days were now over, and the busy life of the soldier had
commenced. For most young men, the stirring events of the times would
have filled every moment and every thought. Not so the man born to have
a controlling and permanent influence in the republic. He found time to
study about money circulation, rates of exchange, commerce, taxes,
increase of population, and the like, because he knew that a great work
must be done by somebody after the war. How true it is that if we fit
ourselves for a great work, the work will find us.
Meantime, Captain Hamilton drilled his troops so well that General
Greene observed it, made the acquaintance of the captain, invited him to
his headquarters, and spoke of him to Washington. Had not the work been
well done, it would not have commanded attention, but this attention was
an important stepping-stone to fame and honor. Hamilton was ever after a
most loyal friend to General Greene.
The company was soon called into active service. At the disastrous
battle of Long Island, Hamilton was in the thickest of the fight, and
brought up the rear, losing his baggage and a field-piece. After the
retreat up the Hudson, at Harlem Heights, Washington observed the skill
used in the construction of some earthworks, and, finding that the
engineer was the young man introduced to him by General Greene, invited
him to his tent. This was the beginning of a life-long and most devoted
friendship between the great commander and the boyish captain.
Later, at the battles of Trenton and Princeton, Hamilton was fearless
and heroic. "Well do I recollect the day," said a friend, "when
Hamilton's company marched into Princeton. It was a model of discipline;
at their head was a boy, and I wondered at his youth; but what was my
surprise when, struck with his slight figure, he was pointed out to me
as that Hamilton of whom we had already heard so much.... A mere
stripling, small, slender, almost delicate in frame, marching beside a
piece of artillery, with a cocked hat pulled down over his eyes,
apparently lost in thought, with his hand resting on a cannon, and every
now and then patting it, as if it were a favorite horse or a pet
plaything."
He had so won the esteem and approbation of Washington that he was
offered a position upon his staff, which he accepted March 1, 1777, with
the rank of lieutenant-colonel. His work now was constant and absorbing.
The correspondence was immense, but all was done with that clearness and
elegance of diction which had marked the young collegian. He was popular
with old and young, being called the "Little Lion," as a term of
endearment, in appreciation of bravery and nobility of character.
When the skies looked darkest, as at Valley Forge, Hamilton was
habitually cheerful, seeing always a rainbow among the clouds. His
enthusiasm was contagious. He carried men with him by a belief in his
own powers, and by deep sympathy with others. Lafayette loved him as a
brother. He wrote Hamilton, "Before this campaign I was your friend and
very intimate friend, agreeably to the ideas of the world. Since my
second voyage, my sentiment has increased to such a point the world
knows nothing about. To show _both_, from want and from scorn of
expression, I shall only tell you--Adieu!"
Baron Steuben used to say, in later days, "The Secretary of the Treasury
is my banker; my Hamilton takes care of me when he cannot take care of
himself."
Hamilton wrote to his dear friend Laurens, "Cold in my professions--warm
in my friendships--I wish it were in my power, by actions rather than
words, to convince you that I love you.... You know the opinion I
entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself
free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent
of the caprices of others. You should not have taken advantage of my
sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent."
Best of all, Washington confided in him, and loved him, and we usually
love those in whom we have confided. When he wanted a calcitrant
general, like Gates, brought to terms, he sent the tactful, clear-headed
Hamilton on the mission. When he wanted decisive action, he sent the
same fearless young officer, who knew no such word as failure.
Sometimes he broke down physically, but the power of youth triumphed,
and he was soon at work again.
On his expedition to General Gates, in November, 1777, with all his
desire to keep himself "free from particular attachments," he laid the
foundation for the one lasting attachment of his life. At the house of
the wealthy and distinguished General Philip Schuyler, he met and liked
the second daughter, Elizabeth. Three years later, in the spring of
1780, when the officers brought their families to Morristown, the
acquaintance ripened into love, and December 14, 1780, when Hamilton was
twenty-three, he was married to Miss Schuyler. The father of the young
lady was proud and happy in her choice. He wrote Hamilton, "You cannot,
my dear sir, be more happy at the connection you have made with my
family than I am. Until the child of a parent has made a judicious
choice, his heart is in continual anxiety; but this anxiety was removed
the moment I discovered it was you on whom she placed her affections."
In this year, 1780, the country was shocked by the treason of Benedict
Arnold. Hamilton was sent in pursuit, only to find that he had escaped
to the British. He ministered to the heart-broken wife of Arnold, as
best he could. He wrote to a friend, "Her sufferings were so eloquent
that I wished myself her brother, to have a right to become her
defender."
For Major Andre he had the deepest sympathy, and admiration of his manly
qualities. He wrote to Miss Schuyler, afterward his wife, "Poor Andre
suffers to-day. Everything that is amiable in virtue, in fortitude, in
delicate sentiment and accomplished manners, pleads for him; but
hard-hearted policy calls for a sacrifice. I urged a compliance with
Andre's request to be shot, and I do not think it would have had an ill
effect."
A month after his marriage, his only difficulty with General Washington
occurred. The commander-in-chief had sent for Hamilton to confer with
him, who, meeting Lafayette, was stopped by him for a few moments'
conversation on business. When he reached Washington, the general said,
"Colonel Hamilton, you have kept me waiting at the head of the stairs
these ten minutes. I must tell you, sir, you treat me with disrespect."
The proud young aid answered, "I am not conscious of it, sir; but since
you have thought it necessary to tell me so, we part." He therefore
resigned his position, glad to be free to take a more active part in the
war. Washington, with his usual magnanimity, made overtures of
reconciliation, and they became ever after trusted co-workers.
All these years, Hamilton had shown himself brave and untiring in the
interests of his adopted country. At the battle of Monmouth, his horse
was shot under him. At Yorktown, at his own earnest request, he led the
perilous assault upon the enemy's works, and carried them. When
Hamilton saw that the enemy was driven back, he humanely ordered that
not a British soldier should be killed after the attack. He says in his
report, "Incapable of imitating examples of barbarity, and forgetting
recent provocations, the soldiers spared every man who ceased to
resist."
Washington appreciated his heroism, and said, "Few cases have exhibited
greater proof of intrepidity, coolness, and firmness than were shown on
this occasion."
Letters home to his wife show the warm heart of Hamilton. "I am
unhappy--I am unhappy beyond expression. I am unhappy because I am to be
so remote from you; because I am to hear from you less frequently than I
am accustomed to do. I am miserable, because I know you will be so....
Constantly uppermost in my thoughts and affections, I am happy only when
my moments are devoted to some office that respects you. I would give
the world to be able to tell you all I feel and all I wish; but consult
your own heart, and you will know mine.... Every day confirms me in the
intention of renouncing public life, and devoting myself wholly to you.
Let others waste their time and their tranquillity in a vain pursuit of
power and glory; be it my object to be happy in a quiet retreat, with my
better angel."
At the close of the Revolutionary War, he repaired to Albany, spending
the winter at the home of General Schuyler, his wife's father. He had
but little money, and his dues in the service of an impoverished
country were unpaid; but he had what was far better, ability. He
determined to study law. For four months, he bent himself unreservedly
to his work, and was admitted to the bar. He steadily refused offers of
pecuniary aid from General Schuyler, preferring to support his wife and
infant son by his own exertions. Such a man, of proud spirit and
unwavering purpose, would, of course, succeed.
Friends who appreciated the service he had rendered to his country now
interceded in his behalf, and he was appointed Continental receiver of
taxes for New York. To accept a position meant, to him, persistent
labor, and success in it if possible. He at once repaired to
Poughkeepsie, where the Legislature was in session; presented his plans
of taxation, and prevailed upon that body to pass a resolution asking
for a convention of the States that a Union might be effected, stronger
than the existing Confederation.
The position as receiver of taxes was sometimes a disagreeable one, but
it was another round in the ladder which carried him to fame. He had
increased the number of his acquaintances. His energy and his knowledge
of public questions had been revealed to the people; and the result was
his election to Congress, at the age of twenty-five. Thus rapidly the
ambitious, energetic, and intelligent young man had risen in influence.
That his voice would be heard in Congress was a foregone conclusion.
General Schuyler wrote his daughter soon after Congress met:
"Participate afresh in the satisfaction I experience from the connection
you have made with my beloved Hamilton. He affords me happiness too
exquisite for expression. I daily experience the pleasure of hearing
encomiums on his virtue and abilities, from those who are capable of
distinguishing between real and pretended merit. He is considered, as he
certainly is, the ornament of his country, and capable of rendering it
the most essential services, if his advice and suggestions are attended
to."
The country was deeply in debt from the Revolutionary War. It had no
money with which to pay its soldiers; its paper currency was nearly
worthless; dissatisfaction was apparent on every hand. There was little
unity of interest among the States. Hamilton's plans for raising money,
and for a more centralized government, were unheeded; and, after a year
in Congress, he returned to the practice of law, saying, "The more I
see, the more I find reason for those who love this country to weep over
its blindness."
As soon as the war was over, the people began to grow more bitter than
ever toward the Tories, or loyalists. Harsh legislative measures were
passed. The "Trespass Act" declared that any person who had left his
abode in consequence of invasion could collect damages of those who had
occupied the premises during his absence. A widow, reduced to poverty by
the war, brought suit against a rich Tory merchant, who had lived in her
house while the Tories held the city. Hamilton, feeling that a
principle of justice was involved, took the part of the merchant, and by
a brilliant speech, in which he contended that "the fruits of immovables
belong to the captor so long as he remains in actual possession of
them," he gained the case. Of course, he brought upon himself much
obloquy; was declared to be a "Britisher," and lover of monarchy, a
charge to which he must have grown accustomed in later years.
Hamilton's pen was not idle in this controversy. He wrote a pamphlet,
advocating respect for law and justice, which was called "Phocion," from
its signature. It was read widely, both in England and America. Among
the many replies was one signed "Mentor," which drew from Hamilton a
"Second letter of Phocion." So inflamed did public opinion become that
in one of the clubs it was decided that one person after another should
challenge Hamilton, till he should fall in a duel. This came to the
knowledge of "Mentor" and the abhorrent plan was stopped by his timely
interference. There are too few men and women great enough to be
tolerant of ideas in opposition to their own, or to persons holding
those ideas. Tolerance belongs to great souls only.
Matters in the States had so grown from bad to worse, and Congress, with
its limited powers, was so helpless, that a convention was finally
called at Philadelphia, May 25, 1787, to provide for a more complete and
efficient Union. Nine States sent delegates: Massachusetts, New York,
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, South
Carolina, and Georgia. General Washington was made president of the
convention. A plan of government was submitted, called the "Virginia
plan," which provided for a Congress of two branches, one to be elected
by the people, the other from names suggested by the State Legislatures.
There was to be a President, not eligible for a second term. Then the
"New Jersey plan" was submitted; which was simply a revision of the
Articles of Confederation.
The debates were earnest, but most intelligent; for men in those times
had studied the existing governments of the world, and the fate of
previous republics. Hamilton was present as a delegate, and, early in
the convention, gave his plan for a new government, in a powerful
speech, six hours long. He reviewed the whole domain of history, the
present condition of the States, and the reasons for it, and then
developed his plan. Those only could vote for President and Senators who
owned a certain amount of real estate. These officials were to hold
office for life or during good behavior. The President should appoint
the Governors of the various States.
Of course, the believers in "States' Rights" could not for a moment
concede such power to one man, at the head of a nation. When Hamilton
affirmed that the "British government was the best model in existence,"
he awoke the antagonism of the American heart. He probably knew that
his plan could not be adopted, but it strengthened the advocates of a
central government. Many delegates went home under protest; but the
Constitution, brought into its present form largely by James Madison,
was finally adopted, and sent to the different States for ratification.
The opposition to its adoption was very great. Hamilton, with
praiseworthy spirit, accepted it as the best thing attainable under the
circumstances, and worked for it night and day with all the vigor and
power of his masterly intellect. To the _Federalist_ he contributed
fifty-one papers in defence of the Constitution, and did more than any
other man to secure its ultimate adoption.
Henry Cabot Lodge, in his clear and admirable "Life of Hamilton," says:
"As an exposition of the meaning and purposes of the Constitution, the
_Federalist_ is now, and always will be cited, on the bench and at the
bar, by American commentators, and by all writers on constitutional law.
As a treatise on the principles of federal government it still stands at
the head, and has been turned to as an authority by the leading minds of
Germany, intent on the formation of the German Empire."
Party feeling ran high. When a State enrolled herself in favor of the
Constitution, bonfires, feasts, and public processions testified to the
joy of a portion of the people; while the burning in effigy of prominent
Federalists, mobs and riots, testified to the anger of the opponents.
In the State of New York the contest was extremely bitter. Hamilton used
all his logic, his eloquence, his fire, and his boundless activity to
carry the State in favor of the Constitution. Said Chancellor Kent: "He
urged every motive and consideration that ought to sway the human mind
in such a crisis. He touched, with exquisite skill, every chord of
sympathy that could be made to vibrate in the human breast. Our country,
our honor, our liberties, our firesides, our posterity were placed in
vivid colors before us."
When told by a friend, who was just starting on a journey, that he would
be questioned in relation to the adoption of the Constitution, Hamilton
replied: "God only knows! Several votes have been taken, by which it
appears that there are two to one against us." But suddenly his face
brightened, as he said, "Tell them that the convention shall never rise
until the Constitution is adopted."
The excitement in New York city became intense. Crowds collected on the
street-corners, and whispered, "Hamilton is speaking yet!" Late in the
evening of July 28, 1788, it was announced that the Constitution had
been adopted by New York, the vote standing thirty to twenty-seven. At
once the bells were rung and guns were fired. A great procession was
formed of professional men and artisans, bearing pictures of Washington
and Hamilton, and banners, with the words "Federalist," "Liberty of the
Press," and "The Epoch of Liberty." The federal frigate Hamilton was
fully manned, and received the plaudits of the crowds.
When the Constitution was adopted, at last, Washington was made
President, April 30, 1789. It was not strange that he chose for his
Secretary of the Treasury the man who had studied finance by the
camp-fires of the Revolution. At thirty-two Hamilton was in the Cabinet
of his country. At once Congress asked him to prepare a report on the
public credit, stating his plan of providing for the public debt. In
about three months the report was ready. It advocated the funding of all
the debts of the United States incurred through the war. As to the
foreign and domestic debts, all persons seemed agreed that these should
be paid; but the assumption of the debts of the different States met
with the most violent opposition. Those who owed a few million dollars
were unwilling to help those who owed many millions.
Hamilton advocated a foreign loan, not to exceed twelve millions, and a
revenue derived from taxes on imports; such a revenue as would not only
provide funds for the new nation, but protect manufactures from the
competition of the old world. The believers in protection have had no
more earnest or able advocate than Hamilton.
His next report was an elaborate one upon national banks, and the
establishment of a United States bank, which should give a uniform
system of bank-notes, instead of the unreliable and uneven values of the
notes of the State banks. His financial policy, while it aroused the
bitterest enmity in some quarters, raised the United States from
bankruptcy to the respect of her creditors, abroad and at home. When the
old cry of "unconstitutional!" was heard, as it has been heard ever
since when any great matter is suggested, Hamilton taught the people to
feel that the _implied_ powers of the Constitution were great enough for
all needs, and that the document must be interpreted by the spirit as
well as the letter of the law. Capitalists were his strong advocates, as
they well knew that a firm and safe financial policy was at the root of
success and progress.