We thought it was important to do this because the American Revolution is too often seen as a struggle between white marbled men in powdered wigs spouting fine sentiments about liberty; the truth was more complicated and the participants far more diverse. The Iroquois nations were drawn into both sides of the conflict.
So were black people, both free and enslaved. And because Eliza’s father was a plantation-owning slaveholder, she had opportunities to witness and, ultimately, empathize with their struggles. Our readers might recall that in America’s First Daughter, the story of Martha “Patsy” Jefferson Randolph, we had the unique opportunity to portray the enslaved families at Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello because quite a bit is known about the people who lived there. Unfortunately, not as much is known about the approximately thirty enslaved human beings on Philip Schuyler’s property. Consequently, in this novel, we hesitated to put too many words into their mouths or feelings in their hearts, but tried to honor them by using some of their names and vocations.
We also confronted the probability that Eliza’s entanglement with slavery did not end when she left her father’s household.
That Alexander Hamilton opposed slavery is absolutely true; so did Jefferson, though to a less efficacious degree. That did not stop either man from compromising his moral beliefs in pursuit of personal or political goals. In short, despite his antislavery stance, there is historical evidence that Alexander Hamilton did borrow, hire out, and possibly even own enslaved persons. Which is why we decided to employ the character of Jenny to demonstrate the ambiguities surrounding this particular question, and Eliza’s evolution in thinking on the matter.
Unfortunately, because little survives in Eliza’s own hand, it’s difficult to discern what her relationships were with enslaved persons; we know from one letter that she was distressed by one of her servants dying of yellow fever. And that she eventually spoke with contempt about the institution of slavery itself and its corrupting influence on the body politic.
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ELIZA HAMILTON’S FRIENDS, relations, and acquaintances are a veritable Who’s Who of American history, including many fascinating figures we didn’t have room to introduce, such as Ben Franklin, the Vicomte de Noailles, the Marquis de Chastellux, Talleyrand, Martin Van Buren, James and Sarah Polk, and many more. She personally knew at least twelve of the first sixteen presidents, and was present with Congressman Abraham Lincoln at the dedication of Washington’s monument.
The revolution—and the business of nation building—was, for Eliza Hamilton, a family affair. And Eliza was particularly close to her family. After the loss of Fort Ticonderoga, General Schuyler was certainly held in contempt and, according to contemporary Dr. James Thacher, accused of collecting a bribe from the British in silver bullets shot over the fort’s wall. (Even Schuyler’s future son-in-law, a young Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton, once suspected him of treachery.) But Schuyler’s reputation in Albany was more secure than we have portrayed it; so much so that New Yorkers were trying to send him to Congress before he’d even been vindicated at court-martial.
Our choice to have Eliza overwrought about her father’s reputation lent a nice echo for the constant worries she’d be faced with when it came to her husband’s reputation later in the book. Eliza would not have believed her father guilty of the crimes for which he stood accused, nor would she have likely believed him guilty of wrongs he did commit, and so we have portrayed Schuyler here through the lens of a loving daughter’s eyes. (Note that while Peggy probably did not elope, the fact that three, if not four, of his intelligent and headstrong daughters chose to do so—without real fear of consequence—speaks to him as a more indulgent father than his historical reputation for sternness might otherwise indicate.) Certainly, Eliza Hamilton honored and relied upon her father as a protector and benefactor, and his death likely forced her to contend with the world as a more independent woman than she would’ve liked to have been.
Eliza’s relationship with the daughters of Governor William Livingston is documented. Though it is possible, and maybe even likely, that Kitty Livingston sided with her brother-in-law John Jay in political matters, we used her as a stand-in for the political rupture between the Schuyler and Livingston families.
We were particularly interested in the relationship she formed with the Burrs and Madisons. The Hamiltons and the Burrs socialized frequently together and so we’ve posited a friendship between Eliza and Theodosia. We moved some of the discrimination Theodosia experienced as the wife of a British officer during the war to after the war as a demonstration of public prejudices. And because Theodosia was forward-thinking in matters of philosophy and women’s rights, we attributed other liberal ideas to her as well.
The partnership between Alexander Hamilton and James Madison was amongst the most fruitful in the history of government. That these two brilliant and hardworking founders could work together in such close harmony, so urgently, and with such success, only to become political enemies, is a great American tragedy. But we were delighted to find some grace notes there—the respect with which Madison treated Hamilton’s family, the assistance he lent them in gathering Hamilton’s papers, and the friendship that his wife Dolley shared with Eliza even after both of their husbands were in the grave.
Long before Dolley Payne Todd married James Madison, she and Eliza Hamilton were neighbors in Philadelphia in the early 1790s, living only a block apart on Walnut Street. Eliza most likely made the acquaintance of Dolley at one of Martha Washington’s receptions, at which Eliza was a fixture and
