Alexander,
The days drag long and dark after your passing, every minute proclaiming to the heavens what misery shrouds me. It is troublesome to climb out of the bed-our bed, in the mornings, degrading to not feel the weight of the mattress next to me. The children don't understand, you were their light, no matter the darkness. Their savior, protector, friend, but you were their father. It confuses them, and, quite frankly me too that we don't have your determination to push us through the hard days. No strength to pray on the steps of the church for our lost son. Our poet Phillip, bid my good wishes to both him and Laurens, yes I know you're partying up there, most likely drinking too much. Little Angelica has passed further into insanity, and it crushes me to see her precious mind crippled by the loss of her brother, and now her father. They all need you here Alexander, why did you leave?
Hercules Mulligan arrived today, he's in town for some business on behalf of the Irish military. What a wonderful man, although he curses like a true sailor around the children- even the small ones, he always laughs it off and twirls them around. Although I heard him crying for you his first night here. Even Jefferson, the son of Satan himself, has bid me his sorrows, it seems the whole of the country mourns for you.
Sincerely,
Your Betsey
YOU ARE READING
They Tell Your Story (Hamilton)
Historical FictionAlexander Hamilton died. He raised his pistol one last time but dropped dead before it could fire, leaving his dearest wife Eliza (Betsey) and their children hopeless and in despair. As we know Eliza then dedicated every last day to raising his name...
