Great Bastards of History
Page 9
ALEXANDER HAMILTON MAY WELL HAVE BEEN CONFINED TO A LIFE AS A CLERK HAD MOTHER NATURE NOT INTERVENED.
A local family took Alex in, treating him like one of their sons. Intelligent and quick-witted, Alex impressed the adults around him. Cruger, a businessman from New York, saw potential in Alex and employed him as a clerk in his trading company, trusting him to run the business while he was away. For five months, fourteen-year-old Alex served as de facto head of the company, dealing directly with other merchants, importers, exporters, ship captains, and customers.
Alex quickly learned how to juggle various responsibilities, negotiate effectively, and communicate with people from different socioeconomic classes. The experience would later prove invaluable. He was deflated when Cruger returned and he had to resume his position as a simple clerk.
Alex worried about his future. The memories of his father’s failed business endeavors haunted him. He expressed his fears in a letter to a friend. “My ambition is so prevalent that I disdain the groveling conditions of a clerk to which my fortune condemns me. I would willingly risk my life, though not my character, to exalt my station,” he said. Alex concluded the letter by wishing for a war. Although peaceful and nonviolent by nature, he realized that war was an equalizer. War presented a young man with the opportunity to prove his mettle and make a name for himself, regardless of his social class.
Alex knew that his illegitimacy and poverty were tremendous obstacles to the success and respectability he yearned for. He possessed the intellect and drive needed to achieve his dreams, but his background held him back. Alexander Hamilton may well have been confined to a life as a clerk had Mother Nature not intervened.
On August 31, 1772, a devastating hurricane tore through St. Croix, destroying hundreds of homes, killing several residents, and injuring dozens more on the 22-mile-long (35 km) island. Then fifteen, Alexander composed a heartfelt account of the tragedy, urging the wealthy to help feed and house the many people left homeless by the hurricane. “[D]o not hold your compassion,” he wrote. “Act wisely [and] Succour the miserable and lay up a treasure in heaven.” He also praised the governor of the island for his valiant relief efforts. The letter, which was published in the local newspaper, so impressed some of the more prominent residents on the island that they decided to finance the young man’s education. Alexander was sent to the thirteen colonies to study medicine. Upon completion of his studies, it was assumed that he would return to St. Croix to serve as the island’s doctor.
REVOLUTION AND REINVENTION
Alexander never received his medical license, nor did he return to St. Croix. Instead, the man whom John Adams called the “bastard son of a Scottish peddler” became one of the founding fathers of a new nation. The thirteen colonies were straining under the tyranny of British rule when the young man from the West Indies arrived. Commercial restrictions and exorbitant taxes imposed by the Crown had the colonists in a state of unrest; talk of revolution filled the streets. Tensions were particularly high in New York, where pro-British Loyalists clashed with the Patriots (or Whigs), revolutionaries who wanted independence from England. America was on the brink of becoming a nation and establishing its presence in the world. It was a fortuitous time for Hamilton—a man looking to make his own mark on the world—to arrive.
As George Washington’s aide de camp, Hamilton worked closely with the commander-in-chief, drafting his correspondence, sharing his confidence, and advising him on political decisions. First meeting of George Washington and Alexander Hamilton, from ‘Life and Times of Washington’, Volume I, published 1857 (litho), Chappel, Alonzo (1828-87) (after) / Private Collection / Ken Welsh / The Bridgeman Art Library International
Arriving in New York in 1773, some 200 nautical miles (322 km) from St. Croix, Hamilton was awed by the burgeoning metropolis. The city seemed to beckon to him, and the young immigrant quickly adapted to his new home. Armed with letters of recommendation from his benefactors, he was granted access to the finest homes and establishments in New York. Most of his new contacts were unaware of his illegitimacy, and Hamilton did his best to distance himself from his roots. He strove to present the image of a cultured, well-bred gentleman, never mentioning the hardship he had endured on St. Croix.
Still, however, much as Hamilton tried to forget his childhood, it remained with him, tugging always at the corners of his memory, fueling his drive for social and professional success and, more important, respectability. With each new achievement, each contact, and each prestigious appointment, Hamilton moved further away from the pitiful, scorned child he had been.
When the American Revolution broke out in the colonies in 1775, Hamilton’s teenaged wish for war came true. Two years later, George Washington, then commander in chief of the Continental Army, met Hamilton in New York and was impressed by the confident, resolute young man in the impeccable uniform. He offered him the position as his aide de camp. Hamilton was one of the very few members of Washington’s inner circle who did not hail from a wealthy, aristocratic family. It was a tremendous coup for a man with such humble beginnings.
His marriage to Elizabeth Schuyler in 1780, a socialite from a wealthy and influential New York family, elevated his status even more. He had transformed himself from an “obscene” child into a gentleman and major player in the political arena. Hamilton’s career was remarkable—the first U.S. secretary of the Treasury, he was a brilliant Constitutional lawyer and, along with James Madison and John Jay, wrote the Federalist Papers, the primary source for Constitutional interpretation. Hamilton was the sole New Yorker to sign the Constitution.
In 1781, Hamilton led a victorious charge against the British in Virginia, resulting in the enemy commander’s surrender. As a civilian, Hamilton continued blazing a path to glory. In 1782 alone, he earned his law degree, was appointed tax receiver for New York, and, most important, was elected as a representative to the Continental Congress. The Hamiltons’ first child, a son named Philip, was also born that year.
In 1784, the up-and-comer helped establish the Bank of New York, the first bank in the new country. It was clear that Hamilton possessed the financial acumen that had eluded his father. On St. Croix, Alexander learned that money led to power and respectability. As a young child, he witnessed James Hamilton fail miserably in one business endeavor after another. Determined not to repeat his father’s mistakes, and terrified of being doomed to life as a clerk, the boy had watched his employer with hawk eyes, eagerly absorbing the intricacies of business. As a boy with no family to rely on, Alexander understood the value of a solid grounding in financial matters.
Hamilton used this hard-earned experience and knowledge in the latter part of his life, shaping the new nation into an economic and military power. He believed that America should be controlled by a strong, centralized republican government. Growing up on St. Croix tremendously affected his outlook on what he once described as a “selfish, rapacious world.” Hamilton learned early on that people could be capricious and cruel. Although ambitious and diligent, he was deeply critical of human nature and had difficulty trusting others. His hardscrabble childhood undoubtedly influenced his politics. He believed that man could not be trusted to govern himself; left to his own devices, man would always succumb to avarice and corruption.
Despite Hamilton’s success, he was unable to fully escape his miserable, humiliating childhood. His single-minded quest for success had earned him a number of enemies—enemies who made inquiries about his background. It wasn’t long before rumors of his illegitimacy began to spread. Although Hamilton ignored them, the rumors would dog him throughout his career—and his life. He confided the truth about his birth to his wife, but not to his children or friends. His political rivals used his illegitimacy as a weapon against him, trotting out the facts of his birth to defame him.
Alexander Hamilton was one of the very few members of George Washington’s inner circle who did not hail from a wealthy, aristocratic family. He’s seen here with Washington’s first cab
inet. Getty Images
Tensions between Hamilton and his longstanding rival Aaron Burr came to a head in 1804, when Burr fatally shot Hamilton in a duel. Indicted for murder in New York and New Jersey, Burr fled to Washington to escape prosecution. His ploy worked: The case never went to trial; he remained unpunished. Copyright © North Wind Picture Archives–All rights reserved.
POLITICAL SABOTAGE AND SELF-DESTRUCTION
Despite Hamilton’s many talents and considerable intelligence, he was remarkably socially inept. He was stubborn and often abrasive and mercurial. He made many enemies during his career, including political rival Aaron Burr.
It could be argued that the socially mobile Hamilton carried a chip on his shoulder from his days on St. Croix. He was easily offended and preoccupied with personal honor, not surprising for a man who had been routinely dismissed and disrespected as a child.
Hamilton’s career was marked by a series of perplexing, self-destructive acts. He foolishly severed his ties with his most powerful ally, George Washington, over a petty reprimand in 1781. Although Washington apologized, Hamilton refused to speak to him and even disparaged him to others. Elizabeth Hamilton eventually persuaded her husband to reconnect with Washington.
In 1787, Hamilton helped pass a law that granted divorce only in cases where adultery could be proved—and forbade the guilty party from remarrying. It was a curious decision for someone with his particular background. His parents would have married—had they been allowed. For all his life, Hamilton had been trying to escape the stigma of the circumstances of his birth. Yet he enacted a law that perpetrated the cycle of misery.
Several years later, Hamilton was publicly outed as an adulterer himself. He carried on an affair for several years with a young woman named Maria Reynolds. Unhappily married, the twenty-three-year-old Reynolds ardently pursued Hamilton. Inexplicably, he published the details of his affair for all to read. Hamilton seemed to genuinely regret the indiscretion. “[T]here is nothing worse in the affair than an irregular and indelicate armour,” he wrote. “I have paid pretty severely for the folly and can never recollect it without disgust and self condemnation.”
Perhaps Hamilton’s gravest political misstep was the circulation of a pamphlet criticizing incumbent president and fellow Federalist John Adams of being unfit for office. The two men did not get along, and Hamilton deeply disliked Adams, who refused to appoint him as George Washington’s replacement as commander in chief. In his scathing Letter of the Public Conduct and Character of John Adams, Hamilton wrote, “Not denying Mr. Adams’ patriotism and integrity, and even talents of a certain kind, I should be deficient in candor, were I to conceal the conviction, that he does not possess the talents adapted to the Administration of Government, and that there are great and intrinsic defects in his character, which unfit him for the office of Chief Magistrate.” Hamilton shared the pamphlet with a few allies, foolishly believing they wouldn’t pass it around. The Letter fell into the hands of Aaron Burr, who had it published and distributed.
Hamilton’s unwitting smear campaign ultimately undermined the Republican Party and helped Democratic-Republican Thomas Jefferson win the presidency; Aaron Burr became his vice president. Hamilton’s anti-Adams screed turned many of his allies against him and earned him more enemies, including Burr.
The two had a long history of animosity, with each disparaging the other. Hamilton believed Burr to be morally corrupt and felt it was “his religious duty” to oppose him. He was instrumental in thwarting Burr’s bid for the vice presidency, and then for the governorship of New York. “I fear Mr. Burr is unprincipled, both as a public and a private man,” he wrote to a colleague. “In fact, I take it he is for or against nothing but as it suits his interest and ambition.” Burr blamed his political failures on Hamilton, and when he learned his rival had insulted him at a dinner party, he seized the opportunity to avenge himself.
Early in the morning on July 11, 1804, Hamilton faced off in a duel against Burr in Weehawken, New Jersey, where Hamilton’s oldest son, Philip, had died in a duel three years before. Hamilton fired his pistol into the air, but it is unclear whether he accidentally misfired or did so deliberately, in an attempt to call off the duel. Burr aimed for and hit his rival. Hamilton died the next day. He was forty-seven years old.
Coauthor of the supremely influential Federalist Papers, secretary of the Treasury, delegate to the Continental Congress, founder and director of the Bank of New York, and creator of the New York Evening Post, Hamilton was the ultimate overachiever, and one of the most dedicated civil servants the nation has ever seen. Today his image graces the ten dollar bill. An airport in his home of St. Croix, where he had been ridiculed as a child, is named after him.
The “obscene” child from the West Indies accomplished so much in such a short span. He lived long enough to watch his dreams come to pass … and then slip away from him. “When America ceases to remember his greatness,” said Calvin Coolidge of Hamilton, in 1922, “America will no longer be great.”
CHAPTER 7
JAMES SMITHSON
A MYSTERIOUS BASTARD BECOMES BENEFACTOR OF AMERICA’S MOST PRESTIGIOUS MUSEUM
1765–1829
THE ILLEGITIMATE, UNACKNOWLEDGED SON OF AN ENGLISH DUKE, JAMES SMITHSON FEARED DYING IN OBSCURITY. AN UNPRECEDENTED PHILANTHROPIC ENDOWMENT TO THE NEWBORN UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, HOWEVER, SECURED HIM A PLACE IN HISTORY.
IN 1835, MEMBERS OF THE U.S. CONGRESS WERE AT ODDS OVER HALF A million dollars that had been bequeathed by a mysterious Englishman named James Smithson. Smithson had willed his estate (the equivalent of $9 million today) “to the United States of America, to found at Washington [D.C.], under the name of the Smithsonian Institution, an establishment for the increase and diffusion of knowledge.”
The debate was not over how to use this generous gift but whether to accept it at all. Some officials feared the endowment would spark a public backlash, coming as it did from a foreigner. Others, such as South Carolina Senator William Campbell Preston, objected to naming an American institution after an apparently self-aggrandizing philanthropist. He complained that “every whippersnapper vagabond might think it proper to have his name distinguished in the same way.” Senator John Calhoun, also from South Carolina, bluntly declared it was “beneath [America’s] dignity to accept presents from anyone.”
Although born illegitimate, James Smithson lived the life of a typical aristocrat. He attended the finest schools and mingled with upper class Britons. National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution / Art Resouce, NY
Complicating matters even more, President Andrew Jackson was unsure whether he even had the authority to accept the gift on behalf of the country. A congressional committee was formed to deal with this most curious situation. Congressman and former president John Quincy Adams argued that Smithson’s endowment could be used to advance the scientific knowledge of the fledgling nation.
“If the Smithsonian Institution, under the smile of an approving Providence, and by the faithful and permanent application of the means furnished by its founder, should contribute essentially to the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men, to what higher or nobler object could this generous and splendid donation have been devoted?” Adams asked the committee.
He argued persuasively that Smithson’s gift be put to good use. In the end, sensible minds prevailed. Even Senator Preston had a change of heart. In England, one of Smithson’s relatives contested the will. Richard Rush, former secretary of the U.S. Treasury, was entrusted with the job of representing the country’s claim to the estate in an English court.
“A suit of higher interest and dignity has rarely, perhaps, been before the tribunals of a nation,” Rush said of his mission. “Benefits may flow to the United States and the human family not easy to be estimated.” After two years, the case was decided in favor of the United States. It took another eight years before construction began on the Smithsonian Institute because of an inability of Congress to agree on how to spend t
he money. Smithson had been vague in his will, neglecting to specify how his endowment should be used. He merely requested that the funds go toward the advancement of knowledge.
Adams lobbied for an astronomy observatory, Massachusetts Congressman Rufus Choate wanted a “grand” library, while others favored a botanical garden or a university. Finally, a decision was made. On August 10, 1846, James K. Polk signed a bill that affirmed the creation of the Smithsonian Institute.
AN IDENTITY CRISIS
Who was this mysterious English benefactor? And what had inspired him to such an act of generosity? A naturalized English citizen, James Smithson never set foot on American soil, nor did he have any connection to the country. Smithson was a reticent man, and the motives behind his philanthropy, for the most part, remain a mystery. In 1865, a fire blazed through the Smithsonian Institute, destroying nearly all of Smithson’s journals, private papers, and personal effects. Historians can merely speculate as to why he chose to leave his estate to a strange, unknown country.
James Smithson was the illegitimate son of Hugh Smithson and Elizabeth Hungerford Macie. A handsome social climber with a head of thick, wavy brown hair, Hugh Smithson had married into one of Britain’s most distinguished families. The union elevated his status and his fortunes. He took on his wife’s more prestigious surname, calling himself Hugh Smithson Percy. The marriage also granted him a number of titles, and he became the 1st Duke of Northumberland.
Hugh Smithson Percy, 1st Duke of Northumberland, was a social climber who married into one of England’s wealthiest families.
A descendent of an aristocratic family, Elizabeth Hungerford was an attractive woman who counted Sir Thomas Hungerford, the first speaker of the House of Commons, among her distant relatives. She was a widow when she embarked on a love affair with Hugh Smithson. Such indiscretions were not uncommon among the aristocracy. However, for the sake of propriety, Elizabeth Macie traveled to France to give birth to the couple’s son in 1765. She named the boy James Lewis Macie. For the first half of his life, James Smithson was saddled with the surname of his mother’s dead husband. It was a peculiar situation for the young man, who was aware that the 1st Duke of Northumberland was his real father. He was forbidden from referring to himself as the son of John Macie, and his biological father refused to acknowledge him. This double rebuff deeply pained Smithson, who years later would describe himself as “Son to Hugh first Duke of Northumberland, & Elizabeth, heiress of the Hungerfords of Studley & niece to Charles the proud Duke of Somerset.”