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My Dear Hamilton: A Novel of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton(80)

Author:Stephanie Dray

The soldiers here in New York. The officers he’d served with. Including Aaron Burr, who’d just moved to the city and seemed so much like Alexander to me that I hoped they might become more than law partners and friends, but maybe even confidants and kindred spirits.

Of course, I realize now how naive that hope truly was, for they were as different as night and day . . .

Chapter Fifteen

August 1784

New York City

HOW MUCH?” I asked, nauseated by the scent of the fishmonger’s wares.

As part of my project to reunite my husband’s military family, I was hosting a dinner for Lafayette, who’d recently returned to the United States, and the Baron von Steuben, the brilliant Prussian drillmaster who’d served with my husband, most crucially at Valley Forge.

It was said that Prussians loved smoked fish, though apparently my heavily pregnant body did not. So I was grateful to be accompanied to the fish market at Murray’s Wharf by Theodosia Burr, with whom I’d spent so many delightful days when our husbands were studying for the bar together. Separated as I was from my sisters, I cherished Theodosia’s companionship, for her worldliness and fearlessness reminded me of Angelica, and her brashness and willingness to say anything made me think of Peggy. With our husbands both lawyers and frequently gone riding circuit together from court to court, we spent much of our time together. Luckily, the Burrs lived not far from us on Wall Street, so it was easy to always be in one another’s houses, our children playing together.

And one of the things I appreciated about Theodosia, who was ten years my senior, was her ability to haggle. “No, that’s too much,” she said when the merchant barked an amount that was far more for a basket of smoked salmon than anyone ought to pay.

The merchant responded by giving a price in another currency altogether.

Truthfully, no one seemed to know what sort of money we ought to use. People tried to pay for goods with Spanish doubloons, French guineas, and Prussian carolines because the continental dollar was so worthless. To make matters worse, each of the states printed their own money, leading to such chaos that no one knew the rate of exchange.

We’d finally settled on a price in British shillings, when a man in a knitted cap and filthy homespun breeches spat at Theodosia from where he lurked behind us. “Tory scum.”

It was, of course, no small thing to be called a Tory in the days just after the war. Though our peace treaty had called for fair treatment, Loyalists had been stripped of their rights to serve in various professions and were subjected to the utmost suspicion. Even Theodosia sometimes got caught up in it. Everyone knew she’d previously been married to a British officer, that her sons were ensigns in the king’s service, and she’d once counted amongst her friends Peggy Shippen Arnold, wife of the traitor who’d fled to England within weeks of the British defeat of Yorktown. To some, it didn’t seem to matter that Mrs. Burr had supported the patriot cause and married a veteran in good standing.

Whatever the reason, Theodosia gasped as another knave loomed and said, “Their bodies are in America, but their heads remain in England. And their necks ought to be stretched.”

“Move on, now,” the fishmonger barked at the men with a scowl and a wave of his hand. “I’ll take whatever money holds value, and I’ll not have trouble here.”

“We’ll be back if you keep taking British money!” the rascals called as they moved on.

“How dreadful!” I said, my hand on Theodosia’s arm. “Please don’t let such ruffians wound your feelings.”

“They’re scoundrels. It would be bad enough were they driven by a mere thirst for vengeance against the British,” Theodosia said as we departed the stall. Rarely did I see her anything but entirely composed, but she shuddered now and released a shaky breath even as she was gracious enough to take the smelly basket of fish from me. She nearly kicked one of the snuffling pigs who were let loose to rove the streets and eat the garbage. “But they’ll accuse anyone for a fee. For any slight at all. Neighbor has to fear neighbor turning them in for profit.”

Fortunately, that night, Lafayette’s return and natural ebullience buoyed all of our moods and provided an occasion for celebrating. Seeing the two old friends reunite and witnessing such happiness come over Alexander as I hadn’t seen in many months made me forget the unpleasantness at the fish market altogether.

“My dear Hamilton,” Lafayette said, grinning.

“My dear marquis,” Alexander said, both men laughing and embracing. Lafayette greeted Baron von Steuben and his aide, then next came to me, where I stood holding Philip’s tiny hand. At two and a half, he was up past his bedtime, but we couldn’t pass up the opportunity for our son to meet our good friend. Lafayette bowed playfully. “Madame Hamilton, how motherhood becomes you.”

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