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Hamilton and Laurens did not speak of wives often. They were content with each other, so why would they bring up a topic that reminded them of the world outside and all the things they could not be?
When they did, their conversations on the subject were short, only small remarks that neither of them replied to because they could not find any inclination to speak on it for long.
Only after Hamilton learned a rather significant fact that had remained hidden for too long, Hamilton found out the reason for Laurens’ reluctance to discuss the subject of wives.
The fact that Laurens was already married before the war – in fact, had a daughter with the woman Hamilton knew nothing of - filled Hamilton with anger that he had to bottle up and reserve for Laurens alone for months. Over half a year later, when Laurens finally returned to the family for ten short days, Hamilton found himself equally filled with elation and a happiness no other thing could give him, but also all the pain and grief and resentment he could not properly let out for months.
What resulted was perhaps one of the longest of the lengthy arguments of Hamilton’s life, and Hamilton was known to undertake lengthy arguments fairly frequently.
Hamilton shouted and accused, had to hold himself back from simply punching Laurens in the face. Laurens shouted back, of course trying to defend himself against Hamilton’s flood of accusations.
Their voices raised to a level that made Hamilton sure their words carried through the whole house, but Hamilton could not find any care for it in himself. If the other aides had not found it out by now, Hamilton would start to doubt their intelligence or think them blind. It was not exactly a pleasant thought, that he and Laurens hid their connection so poorly, but, somehow, the subject yet remained unspoken of. Or perhaps it was not unspoken at all, only no one included Hamilton or Laurens in their discussion.
They both knew Hamilton to be in the right, and so Laurens soon deflated, apologized for keeping such a secret from Hamilton for such a long time. He admitted to his cowardice and assured Hamilton that he only had done so out of a fear to lose him, not because he wanted to keep a wife he also loved a secret so he could have Hamilton as well. In fact, Laurens denied ever loving her at all.
The aftermath of their argument quickly dissolved into frantic kisses, the frantic kisses into desperate touches. The floor of a storage room was perhaps not the most comfortable, nor the warmest place they could have wished for but the only quiet room a full house would offer them.
Hamilton could not yet offer Laurens forgiveness, it was still too early for that, but what he could offer him was the assurance that what he had learnt had not destroyed what they were. No matter his anger, the thought of losing everything they had felt far more painful.
However, the fact that Hamilton tried to accept his new knowledge did not mean that it was all the same now, that he would let Laurens go back south without needing to hear confirmations from Laurens. Before, he would have taken some things as fact, but now, he needed his extra reassurance. Laurens had confirmed many of these things in the heat of their argument, but Hamilton knew himself to sometimes downplay his actions to defend himself and was sure Laurens sometimes did the same.
“You have never loved her?” Hamilton asked again, with less accusation than before in his tone, but not less desperation.
“I have not before, and I do not love her now,” Laurens replied without hesitation. His voice was low but sure and he did not try to escape Hamilton’s gaze as he had during their argument. His eyes looked completely sincere, and Hamilton had to believe him. He did not know what he would have done if he could not believe Laurens.
“Why did you not write, after I had told you of my knowledge?” Hamilton asked, this question burning on his mind for months now. If Laurens did not have any romantic feelings for his wife, why not write Hamilton of this truth? “Why keep me waiting for eight whole months to tell me the truth of your heart?”
Laurens turned his eyes towards the ceiling. “Your finding out did not make me less of a coward, I suppose.”
“You are not a coward,” Hamilton immediately said, not accepting that a man that behaved so bravely and recklessly in every battle he fought would see himself in such a light.
“In all other things, I should hope not, but in this...” Laurens sighed.
“You know my heart; you do not have to be afraid of losing me.” After a few silent seconds Hamilton added, “You do not have to be afraid of me.”
Laurens laughed once, without real humor. “Have you ever spoken to yourself, Alexander? Is not everyone who is not afraid of you at least a bit foolish?”
“Yes, but since you are much more than just a bit foolish, I think you might as well cease being afraid of me or what judgements I may make of you,” Hamilton said, his hand starting to move in circles where it had rested on Laurens’ chest. “Silence shall not help my judgment, in any case.”
A short silence fell over them, Hamilton’s hand continuing its circle motion. Hamilton tried to hear if anyone else was still walking about in the house, but the hour should be past midnight now and he suspected that all the other aides and the General had retired to bed.
“I do not believe it would have changed anything if you had told me at the beginning,” Hamilton finally said, voicing a thought he had many times during the time Laurens was away. Though he was not proud to admit it, he had had both married women and men in his bed before, and while that never was something with as much significance as what he felt for Laurens, he did not think that a marriage would have held him back.
“But I did not tell you, and now it has changed?”
“I wish it did not.”
“I suppose it is what I deserve,” Laurens replied, almost inaudibly.
Another since fell over them, even longer this time. Not even Hamilton knew what to say to this. He could not say yes, but neither could he say no.
Then Hamilton’s fingers stilled on Laurens’ chest. “What if I shall be married one day?”
He could feel Laurens tense beneath his touch. “What if?”
“Or when. I know I shall take a wife one day; there are numerous reasons I must.”
“Yes, I know, you do not have to give me the legacy and family speech again. I have heard it before.” Hamilton could hear something in Laurens’ voice, something he could also feel within himself. Something close to grief, only that the thing they grieved about was not something that was lost yet.
“You do not like it.”
“Don’t like what?” Hamilton knew that they both knew what Hamilton had meant and that Laurens only wished for Hamilton to end this topic of conversation again. However, Hamilton felt that this would be the only time in the near future they would have opportunity for such a conversation.
“The idea of me taking a wife.”
“The idea of sharing you?” Laurens’ eyes had shifted toward the ceiling again, careful not to meet Hamilton’s. “No, I don’t enjoy that.”
“It is not fair of you to say it like that, John.” Hamilton touched the back of Laurens’ neck, successfully trying to steer Laurens’ gaze back down onto himself. “You know that I as well have to share-”
Laurens interrupted him, “You know you do not really have to share me.” He nodded slowly, clearly feigning contemplating something he had thought over many times. “But you are right, it would not be fair of me to deny you marriage. That does not mean that I have to like it.”
“It could never be the same as with you. I do not think I could give my heart to another with you still there.”
“But I shall not be with you indefinitely. In this war, us parting for longer periods is inevitable.”
“That is your reason why I should take a wife? Because we will be apart?” Hamilton scoffed. “I do not care how far away you should be if I know that I still hold your-”
Again, Laurens did not let him finish speaking. “But there are places you cannot follow me. Some distances cannot be crossed. It would be better for you to have someone close by, someone you can turn to when I am gone.”
“Why would you continually advocate the idea of me marrying, when you well know it would make you miserable?”
“I would rather myself miserable, you happy and loving someone else and us apart than have us both be miserable but only with each other in our hearts.” Laurens’ tone had grown incredibly saddened as he spoke.
But no matter Laurens’ tone, no matter how much he believed in what he said, Hamilton found himself growing impatient, tired of repeating himself. “I do not care how great the distance between us is, and I could not love her as I love you, don’t you hear, John?”
Laurens seemed to choose not to hear and reached out for Hamilton’s hands, holding them tightly between them. “Love her when I am gone, and I shall be all the happier for knowing that you are not alone in this world.” His tone had grown even more insistent. “Treasure what is between us now and hold it close when the world demands of you to follow its rules.”
Laurens would not let Hamilton argue this out, and if he was honest with himself, Hamilton was so tired of anger and arguments that he did not even try. Laurens seemed adamant to insist that Hamilton would take a wife when he was gone, and what else could Hamilton do than to prove him the opposite?
Or so he thought.
Hamilton and Laurens were aware that their time together would only be a short one, the parting after it likely one of the longest they had experienced so far.
And so, only about a week later, Laurens really was gone and the words he had spoken refused to leave Hamilton’s mind.
When Hamilton attended an assembly that winter, only a little more than a month after Laurens had left them, Hamilton did not imagine that he could meet a woman like Ms. Schuyler.
A night of merriment was all he expected, but instead he was met with deep black eyes, the color contradicted by them still appearing the brightest source of light in the whole room, a soft hand that he held in his for a dance and did not want to let go after, that made his body tingle as if he had never known touch before. But it was not only her body that drew him towards her, it was also her mind. As a General’s daughter, some knowledge of politics and war would be unsurprising, expected even, but Hamilton felt as if she understood it better than many men he encountered, concerned not only by who her next dance partner might be, but more so of the country they were trying their hardest to build.
It did not take long for Ms. Schuyler to become Eliza to him, for Eliza to become his Betsy, a name that was only his to use. And then, when his mind slowly came to the realization what exactly it was he felt for her, he did not hesitate to make his Betsy his future bride.
That is, he should not have hesitated, but, unfortunately, it was not as simple as that.
Hamilton knew that all his hesitation came from a place of guilt, and guilt was unjustified. There was nothing to feel guilty about.
Laurens told Hamilton that he should have a wife and love her when he was gone, and that was what Hamilton was doing, was it not?
It was a defeat to acknowledge that perhaps Laurens was right after all, Hamilton was capable of allowing himself to love a woman with Laurens so far from him.
It was a different kind of love, sweeter instead of driven by desire, an affection he was open to show to all around him, quite the opposite of hidden corners and locked doors. Hamilton had denied himself having something like this, without knowing that he had needed it just as much as he needed Laurens.
He had denied himself to feel this for Laurens’ sake, even when Laurens would want him to find someone like his Betsy, someone to love in Laurens’ long absences, a comfort when Laurens’ infrequent letters were not enough, another person to keep part of Hamilton’s heart safe.
And so, Hamilton did ask Betsy if she is willing to become his wife, and Betsy accepted.
He was engaged to be married and even if it took more than two months for him to finally confess this fact to Laurens, he finally found the right words to inform Laurens of his future happiness.
Even if Laurens would not be as happy by these news as he pretended he would be, Hamilton could not keep this fact from him as Laurens did with his own marriage, and if Hamilton understated Betsy’s virtues and the love he felt for her, then it was only so he could tell Laurens all about his true feelings when he finally saw him again.
Hamilton did not see Laurens in almost a year.
The tragic loss of his home city suddenly saw Laurens as a prisoner as war, and when he was finally paroled, Philadelphia seemed to be so close to Hamilton, and still he was unable to visit him for a long while yet.
During that time, Laurens’ letters became strange.
At first, Hamilton thought that it was simply his imprisonment that saw Laurens in such a depressive, pessimistic mood and that this was the reason he could not share Hamilton’s joy and instead elected to ignore it for the time being.
But then, in one letter during the summer, Laurens suddenly proclaimed Hamilton’s marriage a cure to what was between them and urged him to marry as soon as possible, so that his devotion for Laurens would die down.
Hamilton was at a loss.
Laurens’ opinion on him marrying had clearly changed and he found himself angry with his friend. He surely should not behave this coldly towards Hamilton if he only followed Laurens’ own advice?
Again, Hamilton was alone with his anger for Laurens and all he could do was to stay where he was and wait until the General finally gave him permission to see Laurens.
Hamilton’s time in Philadelphia would be very brief, even shorter than Laurens’ last stay with them at headquarters.
Their reunion was very stiff at first, with a servant hovering too near to Laurens should they require anything, and even behind closed doors they shared kisses first, as chaste and unsure as they had never been before. Only then Hamilton could address what so obviously was between them now.
“I am engaged,” Hamilton told Laurens in quiet tone, barely louder than a whisper, as if this was something Laurens had not heard before.
“I know,” Laurens replied and Hamilton could sense every part of his body stiffening.
“I do not think what little conversation we had on the subject in our correspondence has been enough.”
“There is nothing to say,” Laurens said and shifted further away from Hamilton.
“You are displeased by it.”
“Of course I am,” Laurens near snapped. “And I know it is unfair of me to be too selfish to accept that I have to share you, but I-” Laurens cut himself off and covered his eyes with one hand. Hamilton sincerely hoped that this was only a sign of Laurens’ frustration and not that he was trying to hide unwanted tears. Hamilton could not bear the thought of being the reason Laurens should cry, especially since he knew that Laurens’ current circumstances under parole were anything but good and reduced Laurens to an idle existence, something Laurens had always hated.
“But you told me,” Hamilton said weakly. “Your words were that I cannot follow you everywhere and that when we are apart, I should find a wife I could love when you were gone.”
Laurens just shook his head. “That is not what I said.”
“But you did,” Hamilton insisted, incredulous. Did Laurens plan to convince Hamilton that he did not say things that he very obviously did say? Hamilton would not let Laurens accuse him of seeking a bride against his will if Laurens could not stand to his word.
“I have never said ‘apart,’” Laurens retorted. “Do you think I have so little faith in us? That a few states distance would require you to find another?”
“I should hope you have more faith than that, since I should hope for that as well, but that does not change that you have never –” Hamilton could feel his own anger rising. What Laurens said now and what he said when he last saw one another all seemed to stand in contradiction to one another. “Do not try to manipulate me into believing that you never said these things, I know that not to be true.”
“I never used the word ‘apart,’” Laurens insisted again.
“What is your obsession with that word?” Hamilton snapped. “If you did not use that word, then you used a word of very similar meaning at the very least.”
“I did not say apart, I said gone.” The words sounded forced out as Laurens spoke them, as if it was a great effort to voice them. His eyes did not meet Hamilton’s any longer and still, Hamilton could not understand what point Laurens was trying to make.
“A word of very similar meaning, as I have said. I do not see how that should change the sentiment of what you said.”
Laurens pushed away from Hamilton fully, turned on his heel and strode towards the window at the other side of his room. “The distances that cannot be overcome,” Laurens began, “If I go south and if Washington would have let you, you could have joined me on the southern campaign, and even now on my parole, you are able to visit me.”
Laurens paused and Hamilton took several careful steps into his direction, waiting for Laurens to continue. He wished that he could comfort Laurens with touch, but was not sure that he would allow Hamilton in the current moment.
“Yet, when the war is at its end, most likely there will be one place you cannot be allowed to follow me to so soon.” Hamilton could almost not understand Laurens’ words, so quiet had his tone gotten. He took some more steps towards Laurens, so that he could reach out and touch Laurens’ shoulder if he felt that kind of touch would be accepted.
“John, if you are referring to your wife in England, then be assured that I do not-”
“No,” Laurens cut him off. “One day, I shall be gone permanently, Alexander, do you not understand?” Laurens’ tone was desperate now, begging, almost, though he still didn’t face Hamilton.
Hamilton did reach out to gently turn Laurens towards himself by his shoulder. Laurens did not truly turn, but nor did he flinch back.
One of Laurens’ hands rose to cover eyes again, and this time Hamilton could be sure that it really were tears the man tried to suppress or to hide.
Because that was the moment where Hamilton understood. He understood Laurens’ insistence on the word gone, and he understood that the place to which Hamilton would not be able to follow Laurens was one beyond this mortal realm.
Laurens had never asked for Hamilton to seek a wife when they parted next, he had asked him to seek away after he was gone permanently from Hamilton’s life – after his death. And Laurens did not speak of a point far in the future, decades ahead, but of the end of the war, a day that could be nearer than either of them anticipated.
And Hamilton suddenly felt so very stupid, for not only did he act too early, thinking that his finding a bride would be supported by Laurens, even if it would be painful for both of them, but he had also been completely oblivious for just how long this struggle had plagued Laurens.
Laurens had only been reckless in battle and jokes that it was not his own fault that he survived action had been made by several men, even Laurens himself, but only recently Hamilton had realized what actions Laurens sometimes contemplated and had to counsel him against extreme measures.
But now it seemed that Laurens had voiced such thoughts to Hamilton’s own face before, and yet Hamilton had not perceived them, living too much in the bliss of what they shared to even consider that Laurens would ever seriously wish for his own life to end.
For a man like Hamilton, who wishes to rise after the current battles are won, who is focused on the future ahead of him and on what he will be able to make of himself, the word ‘gone’ describe a temporary state, a time which will be marked by a loss of something – a loved one – though not forever. With so much focus on death and losses so early in his life, Hamilton could do nothing else but to think past this now, to free himself of the times where he could not see his own future.
For a man like Laurens, however, who wishes for nothing more than for glory and honor in the current moment, and who sees the greatest honor in death, the word ‘gone’ represents an entirely different sort of freedom, that freedom in which all worries and burdens can disappear within a single second. It describes not a temporary state, but a permanent one, perhaps the only state in which you find comfort when the weight becomes too heavy and it does not get lifted from your shoulders.
One of them could only plan for the now, the other felt himself forced to see into the future and such big differences in their view of the world had an impact on so small things as the interpretation of a word.
And the interpretation could be shattering.
Because now, Hamilton had found his bride, the woman to whom he could turn to when Laurens was gone, whether that was temporarily or permanently. From his own hopeful interpretation he had only benefited, and perhaps he had interpreted Laurens’ words as he had so that he could move on without guilt and feel justified in his actions.
Laurens, however, was only left with painful side of Hamilton’s decision now. No matter that Laurens thought his own jealousy was unjustified, he was now left with a world in which he was shared to force the love of one person, and Hamilton feared that no reassurance that his affection for Laurens would not change with his wife also in life would be enough.
And if that was the case, Hamilton had no choice but to accept whatever decisions on Laurens’ part that would lead to.
If he would lose Laurens to this, a terrible misinterpretation of words, then Hamilton would only have himself to blame, for who was he to claim that he loved a man when he could not even recognize his most desperate, most urgent conflicts?
Hamilton feared that he had been ignorant too long and that, since he had acted so very differently from what Laurens wanted, he would lose part of him now and that he would have to hold onto his promise to love his wife when Laurens was gone – truly, permanently gone – much sooner than he would have ever anticipated and that there was not a chance for him to change this.
All he could do now was try to do his best to ensure that for now, Laurens and he would only ever be apart and never one of them gone.