Complete Works. Hamilton AlexanderЧитать онлайн книгу.
from the back hall, which is divided by a fine old colonial door, with fan and side lights enriched by delicate tracery, and making an attractive feature of the larger hall. The back hall receives the staircase, not more remarkable for its historic incidents than for the beautiful sweep of its lines, and the fine carving of its splendid balustrade.
Behind the sitting-room is the dining-room, the scene of forty years of generous hospitality. On the other side the drawing-room leads into a private hall and a room, . . . that was used as a nursery. Behind this was the library. Here there is the story of a bricked-up enclosure which formerly led to a subterranean passage in connection with the river, to be used in case of surprise. The staircase leads to the upper hall. . . . This was used as a ballroom, and on either side are the chambers, in which cluster so many historic reminiscences.
McHenry, then a member of Washington's staff, went to Albany for Hamilton's wedding and wrote these verses, which he subsequently sent to his friend, Otho Williams, on the morning after:
'Tis told, my friend, in poets lore.
The muse has an exhaustless store
From which she draws with wond'rous skill
Of choicest fancies what she will.
With these she decks the heroes' hearse.
Or forms with these immortal verse.
Last night I sought her dear retreat
And laid me at the fair one's feet.
She knew my errand, sway'd her wand.
Then pointed to a rising stand.
From whence the fairy world was seen
And you embosomed with your Queen.
(As thus ye lay the happiest pair
A rosy scent enriched die air
While to a music softly sounding
Breathing, panting, slow, rebounding)
Love arose with pow'rful spell.
Hence, he cried, to dismal dell
Imps who haunt the gloomy breast
Ever jealous—never blest;
This is ground for holy feet
Here the sports and pleasure meet.
Then in whispers caught the ear
What the gifted only hear.
"Chains of Priests or modes of art
"Weakly hold the human heart,
"Hence my Eloisa said
"Give me those that love has made."
Now his fluttering wings outspread
Three times he bless'd the bridal bed.
While o'er it Faith her mantle threw
And said small care would keep it new.
Last Prudence came» in sober guise
With Pilgrim's pace, and wisdom's eyes;
Forth from his stole a tablet took
Which you received with thankful look.
Genius had deeply mark'd the ground.
And Plutus finely edg'd it round.
This done, he bade you long improve
In all the sweets of mutual love.
And now would friendship's voice prevail
To point the moral of the tale.
Know then, dear Ham a truth confest
Soon beauty fades, and love's a guest.
Love has not settled place on earth;
A very wan'rer from his birth;
And yet who happiness would prove.
Like you must build his hopes on love.
When love his choicest gifts has giv'n
He flies to make another heav'n;
But as he wheels his rapid flight
Calm joys succeed and pure delight.
Faith adds to all; for works we're told
Is Love's alloy, and faith the gold.
Now genius plays the lover's part;
Now wakes to many a throb the heart;
With ev'ry sun brings something new.
And gaily varies every view;
Whilst Prudence all his succour lends
To mark the point where pleasure ends.
For, borne beyond a certain goal.
The sweetest joys disgust the soul.
He too instructs us how to use,
What's more a blessing than the muse (wealth):
For well he knows, deprived of this
That toil and care is human bliss.
All these attendants Ham are thine,
Be't yours to treat them as divine;
To cherish what keeps love alive;
What makes us young at sixty-five.
What lends the eye its earliest fires;
What rightly managed still inspires.
To which Hamilton answered:
I thank you Dear Mac for your poetry and your confidence. The piece is a good one—your best. It has wit, which you know is a rare thing. I see by perseverence all ladies may be won. The Muses begin to be civil to you, in spite of Apollo and my prognosis.
You know I have often told you, you wrote prose well but had no genius for poetry. I retract. Adieu.
A. Hamilton.
Sep. 12, (1780)
Hamilton certainly benefited by his marriage and by his connection with a powerful family with far-reaching influence, and one having so much to do with the early history of the country. As Oliver intimates, Hamilton was too proud and independent in regard to money matters to accept any aid from his father-in-law, and it does not appear that any financial assistance was ever offered him. Even after his death and when his poverty became known Mrs. Hamilton, who was sensitive to a degree, indignantly denied a story that she was in possession of six thousand dollars, given to her by her father some time before, and wrote to one of her brothers:
"Let me assure you it is an untrudi. It has given me some pain that I should be held up to the public in so unfavorable a point of view as on the one hand to request you to make provision for me, by some arrangement, and on the other, (as it is said) to be so amply provided for by my father. What but ill intent toward me could have been the motive to have given such an idea to the world and to my sisters and brothers? But this world is a world of evil passions, and I thank my God He strengthens my mind to look on them as steps to an entire resignation to His will, which I pray may fast approach me, and in that fullness of grace which may be pleasing in His sight. Oh! my brother, may my sighing and sorrowing be seen by Him who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb—shorn, indeed, to the quick." She continues: "My friend here has taken the necessary steps towards bending the public mind from this ill impression and he is very much gratified by your correct, liberal and affectionate conduct to me."
It is true that General Schuyler at all times sent to the young pair prodigal gifts and supplies from the Albany homestead, and when the Grange was built some years later, supplied Hamilton with most of the lumber.