Laura: We also knew that reading the historical letters wasn’t going to be enough. Walking in the footsteps of our characters has become just as important to our process. Yes, it’s important to spend time in libraries buried under microfiche, trying to decipher yellowing pieces of paper. But we like to touch what our characters might have touched, smell what they smelled, and view the world from their vantage points. It’s always illuminating! That’s why we took not one field trip for this project, but two.
Stephanie: We sort of had to, because our very first foray was a bit frustrating. If you’re not familiar with America’s revolutionary history, you might not realize just how important the Revolutionary War was to the history of New York City—and visiting the city doesn’t make it much easier because most of the old landmarks have been replaced by new buildings. Most of the fabric of the eighteenth-century city is long gone. That progress stops for no man, or woman, is a rather Hamiltonian idea, but I was crestfallen to realize that we couldn’t actually visit most of the places where Eliza lived. Instead, we wandered about Wall Street and Broadway trying to imagine what Eliza’s view might have been of the river, and if she’d have smelled fish, or seen a forest of masts in the harbor. Fortunately, a few landmarks still exist. Trinity Church, where the Hamiltons worshipped and are buried. The Museum of American Finance building, which housed Hamilton’s Bank of New York. And Fraunces Tavern, one of my favorite places to visit in the city, where Hamilton frequently socialized and George Washington said a farewell to his officers. Our favorite finds at Fraunces were in the museum above the tavern where we were able to see amazing artifacts such as Lafayette’s sash, still stained with the blood he shed in our cause at Brandywine.
Laura: From there we made the trek out to Harlem to the one house in which we are certain Eliza Hamilton lived—the Grange. Hamilton spent a fortune building this country estate for his family and it’s where he tried to reconcile himself to life in a garden instead of in the political arena. Thanks to the heroic efforts of the U.S. National Park Service, we were able to imagine all those rooms filled with Eliza’s many children, and we stared at the bust of Hamilton just as she did, longing to meet him again. And yet—perhaps because the house has been moved a number of times to preserve it, and because the Hamiltons only shared that home for a few years before the infamous duel that shattered their lives—even as we appreciated the tall windows, the French-mirrored walls, and the restored woodwork, neither of us felt a strong emotional impression.
Stephanie: That’s true. But the place that absolutely left a strong emotional impression was Trinity Church. I remember how much time we spent there and how it changed our entire idea of what Eliza’s story might be. I’d expected some sort of grand monument to the architect of American government. Instead, we found Hamilton’s relatively humble gravestone hilariously and horrifically positioned directly across the street from a bank and some shops, one of which had a sign that said, “We are probably the lowest priced in the city.” Maybe Hamilton would have liked the way time—and the city—just marched on without him. But when Lafayette visited in 1824, his secretary complained of the indignity of this sacred graveyard being separated from the gaiety and commerce of the city by only an iron railing. And it was hard not to see that as a metaphor for Eliza’s struggle. She spent her life fighting a war against time and the indignities threatening to swallow her family’s rightful place in history . . .
Laura: That was sobering to realize in that moment. And to wonder if it was a war that she won. I lingered a long time with my hand pressed to Eliza’s gravestone. Then I remember that we both sat together a long time by the root sculpture just outside the church commemorating an old sycamore that used to be there before it was destroyed by the collapse of the Twin Towers on 9/11. It was the first time we both began to envision her life story as one so intrinsically rooted in the darkest days and greatest triumphs of the country. I think we both felt sad as we reckoned with how many losses she really faced, even before the duel that took her husband’s life. That graveyard is where our original idea for a plucky historical heroine turned into something darker and deeper. Where we began to hope our words could be another sort of monument for Eliza.
Stephanie: Another place that affected me deeply was Morristown, New Jersey, where a local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution lovingly maintains the so-called Schuyler-Hamilton house where Eliza visited her Aunt Gertrude and was wooed by Alexander Hamilton. Given the beautiful little churches, the town square, and tales of winter balls, it was easy to imagine a charming winter courtship between the two of them. At least until I visited Jockey Hollow, where old military cabins still dot the forested hills. The realization that ten thousand men were freezing and starving to death—just out of sight of Washington and his officers—made a powerful impression. And given Eliza and Alexander’s lifelong dedication to charity and public service, it doubtless made an impression on them, too. In fact, the visit to Jockey Hollow forced us to rewrite the original lighthearted romance between them, and we reimagined their attraction as one between two very earnest young people in a very dark hour, both of them desperate to make the world a better place.