Me, Myself, & Hamilton

Duex

It has been one month since I met Alexander Hamilton. I found myself missing his touch, his smile, hoping that he would make it through the war unscathed. I had not heard anything from the young soldier, except that he had arrived safely back at the winter encampment in Morristown, according to what his Excellency had told my father. I began to lose hope in what he had said at the Ball. What if he couldn't return back to Albany safely? What if he finds another woman who claims his affections?

After a month of waiting and not receiving so much as a letter from the young colonial, I decided to just count my losses. I figured that the sweet nothings he whispered in my ear that night were meaningless, it had to be something he did to every young maiden he came across. So I learned to move forward. I devoted myself to the war efforts, by knitting wool caps for the soldiers. Thus far it seemed like my efforts were working, allowing me to be more productive.

On this particular afternoon, I became so caught up in my knitting that I didn't hear Angelica enter the room. Nor did I hear when she seated herself across from me. It wasn't until she pulled my work down and away from my face, that I saw the bright, cheerful smile that was plastered on her face. It was also then that I saw the envelope that she had set in her lap, no doubt being the reason she decided to join me.

"What's that?" I asked, signaling to the paper she currently possessed. Just at the mention of this letter, her smile grew larger than I thought to be humanly possible.

"Why this, dear sister," she said, her smile quickly turning to a smirk, "This was delivered for you. No doubt that it's from that young, handsome Colonial Hamilton."

I felt my cheeks go scarlet as she handed me the envelope. Regardless, I carefully inspected the writing across the front. I noticed that it wasn't addressed to Elizabeth, but rather it was addressed to Betsey. The only person that has ever called me Betsey was Alexander. Just the thought of him made my heartbeat quicken. I slowly opened the envelope, trying to be careful not to damage its contents. Inside I found a letter which read:

My dearest, Betsey,

Immediately after dinner, I stole from a crowd of company to a solitary walk to be at leisure to think of you, and I have just returned to tell you by an express this moment going off that I have been doing so. You are certainly a little sorceress and have bewitched me, for you have made me disrelish every thing that used to please me, and have rendered me as restless and unsatisfied with all about me, as if I was the inhabitant of another world, and had nothing in common with this. I must in spite of myself become an inconstant to detach myself from you, for as it now stands I love you more than I ought—more than is consistent with my peace. A new mistress is supposed to be the best cure for an excessive attachment to an old— if I was convinced of the success of the scheme, I would be tempted to try it— for though it is the pride of my heart to love you it is the torment of it to love you so much, separated as we now are. But I am afraid, I should only go in quest of disquiet, that would make me return to you with redoubled tenderness. You gain by every comparison I make and the more I contrast you with others the more amiable you appear. But why do you not write to me oftener? It is again an age since I have heard from you. I write you at least three letters for your one, though I am immersed in public business and you have nothing to do but to think of me. When I come to Albany, I shall find means to take satisfaction for your neglect. You recollect the mode I threatened to punish you in for all your delinquencies.

I wrote you a long letter by your father. I suppose you will wait his return before you write. If you do I shall chide you severely and if you do not write me a very long and fond one by him, I shall not forgive you at all. I have written you a short letter since that.

We are now at Dobbes ferry.

I would go on but the General summons me to ride. Adieu My Dear lovely amiable girl. Heaven preserve you and shower its choicest blessings upon you. Love me I conjure you.

A Hamilton

(This is an actual letter that Hamilton wrote to Eliza from the winter encampment in Morristown)

As I reached the end of the letter, I couldn't help but smile. He really loved me. He was planning to come back to me. My heart was full. The butterflies that previously resided in my belly returned once again. I read over the letter at least six times before I finally looked back up at Angelica.

"He really loves me. He says he going to find his way back to Albany. This one's mine, Angie. He's all mine."