Chapter Text
1799
Eliza had been beside her husband in his office, watching him scribble down the date on his latest letter to McHenry about army recruitments when she first suspected the tiny cells growing within her.
She had fetched some documents and his laptop desk from the parlour and placed the papers he needed on the desk beside him when she noticed the digits drying on the parchment paper. She paused, counting and recounting the numbers back in her head, while Alexander took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, oblivious.
“Thank you, my love.” He whispered, affectionately rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as if rubbing his kiss into her skin.
When she didn’t respond or move, he paused his writing to look up and noticed the somewhat bewildered look on her face.
“Eliza?” He questioned, concern and confusion filling him.
She shook her head, snapping herself out of the fog and folded her lips over one another in an attempt to force the smile forming on them into a straight line. She didn’t want to share her thoughts with him until she was one hundred present sure.
Alexander’s eyebrows creased at her curious behaviour. “What is it?”
She managed to control her smile, yet the glint in her eyes was still evident. “Nothing for you to worry about.” She cooed, lifting her husband’s hand and stroking it.
He groaned in return, as if not knowing what was going on in his wife’s head caused him physical pain.
Eliza let out a melodious laugh. “Hush, my dear Hamilton.” She patted him on the head, to which Alexander held back a whimper. She was placating him as if he was a pet and he was not going to give her the impression that doing so was justified.
“Get back to your letter.” She ordered, leaning down to kiss the indent between his eyebrows.
*
It was a few weeks later when Alexander finally caught up with her suspicions.
He had been peppering kisses along her jaw, moving downwards to shower his affection over her chest when Eliza winced in discomfort.
He immediately pulled back in concern, “Did I hurt you?”
Eliza shook her head and placed her hand on the back of his head to pull his lips up towards her. “They’re just a little sensitive.”
He frowned as she captured his lips in her own, hoping to starve him of coherence, for she did not want to tell him like this. Not when she was feeling as hungry and needy as she was for him in the moment. Hamilton had a tendency to cry on learning such news and she wasn’t prepared to have him emotionally leaking on her when she was actually feeling full of energy for once. That could wait until after.
Alexander’s mind fogged over as his wife kissed him passionately, the questions which had began formation were hindered by the way she ran her hands through his hair, her nails scraping delicately against his scalp in the way she knew would make him shudder.
Through breaks in her kisses and caresses her words rang out in his head. She was only overly sensitive in that area when she was pregnant or breast-feeding, and William had been weaned for some time now, so it couldn’t be that. Therefore the only other possible option was…
He yelped as Eliza pulled on his hair, exposing his neck to her ministrations.
“Stop thinking.” She warned, looking into his glossy eyes.
He bopped his head, swallowed down the emotion and croaked out a “Sorry.”
Her eyes softened then, her lips widening in a smile as she straddled his hips.
“I think I can forgive you.” She smiled, leaning down to kiss him again.
Afterwards, when they were both sated and collapsed against one another, Alexander barely wasted a moment before asking her, not being able to hold on a second longer.
“Are you?” He whispered into the candlelit room.
Eliza lifted her head to face him raising her eyebrow questioningly.
“Betsey, you know what I’m asking.” He attempted to keep the whine out of his voice, but failed somewhat.
She smiled at him, “It is highly possible that I am with child, yes.”
Alexander clamped his mouth shut and stared back at her with increasingly watery eyes. His whole being filled with emotion, shutting down his ability to respond in fear of the feelings flooding out at a rate he could not control.
He couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to be experiencing such a moment with his dearest Betsey again. A year prior he had truly believed he had scarpered any chance of any genuine reconciliation. That his wife would stay with him for convenience over love and that they would never get back to where they were before he published his depravities to the whole world. Back when Eliza would refuse his touch and he finally began to comprehend how majorly he had dishonoured and shamed his wife. How insensitive he was in revealing his sins for all to read.
At the time he had been so focussed on clearing his name that he barely considered how deeply it might affect his family. He could ask god for forgiveness for his sins, but what about his dearest wife? As angelic and saint-like as he believed she was, he knew the ability to forgive him for the heartbreak he caused her would not come easily. But ever the angel, she had slowly learned to trust him again and they began to heal together.
And now here they were, another miracle on the way. They were finally moving forward. The wounds were healing and beginning to flourish with new life.
A soft hand caressed his face, wiping the spilling tears away.
Alexander met his wife’s gaze. She was smiling at him kindly, as if she had predicted such a response from him, yet he could see her eyes were glossy with the same relief he was feeling.
*
On Alexander’s part, the name of their baby girl had been chosen from the day he found out his wife was expecting.
Eliza had been unsure, stating that the name of one of their mothers would probably be more suitable if they were to be gifted with a girl. But Alexander had been adamant.
She had gone along with it to placate him and with their track record it was unlikely the child would be a girl anyway.
But by the time their daughter was born, she knew she couldn’t take the name away from her husband as she watched him coo over the tiny bundle of joy.
He whispered to the baby as he rocked her gently in his arms. She was swaddled in a large blanket, just her head visible as her large dark eyes stared at her father inquisitively.
“My darling little Betsey, I have prayed for you every day. My sweet baby girl.”
Eliza glanced to the side, her heart swelling at the sight in front of her.
“I do not know what I have done to deserve my prayers being answered. Maybe your mother was praying for a girl too. I believe the almighty would favour her prayers over mine.”
“You were praying for a girl?” Eliza asked, her voice soft from exhaustion.
Alexander looked towards her sheepishly, his face giving away the answer.
Eliza chuckled. “What if I had given you a boy? Would you have been disappointed?”
“Never.” He replied, sitting down on the bed next to her and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “I could never be disappointed in any of the precious children you gift me with.”
“So why the need for a girl?” She leant forward to catch a better glimpse of the tiny child.
“Because I needed another Angel in my life. Another little Betsey to cherish and love.”
“Am I not enough?” She asked, light-heartedly.
Alexander’s face stiffened then, turning serious.
“You are more than enough Eliza. You are my everything, my whole world.” His voice cracked and he took in a deep breath to curve his emotion.
“Shush.” Eliza soothed, leaning into his side. “I know, my love.”
“Do you?”
“I do.” She attempted to shuffle closer towards him, grimacing at the discomfort it caused.
“Here!” Hamilton quickly stopped her, moving next to her and placing the bundle in her arms.
Eliza leaned against him comfortably and Alexander couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful sight in front of him.
“My two darling Elizas” He beamed, feeling blessed.
December 1801
Little Betsey could sense that something was amiss in the Hamilton household, for an eerie quietness had overtaken the usual vitality it held. Her elder brothers and sister weren’t quite as animated as they once were, and her parent’s faces had taken on a strange drooping effect. Papa’s eyes were red and puffy, and Mama’s smile never stretched as far anymore, the sparkle in her eyes gone.
She had some awareness that something big had happened, but she couldn’t comprehend exactly what. Maybe it was to do with her turning two, she wondered. Maybe once you get to that age the world changes around you, for it had only been a few days after her second birthday that glow of The Grange dimmed. The house her Mama and Papa had worked fruitfully on for so long, building their dream, had become stagnant in the weeks proceeding her birthday. And her eldest brother Philip hadn’t been home, his table space left empty at meal times. Angie’s plate had been missing a few times too, but at least Betsey had seen her sister around the house and had heard the melodic sound of her fingers strumming her piano late in the hours of the night.
Betsey had spent a lot of time with her nurse over the past few weeks, brushed away from bothering her parents. But right now she wanted to feel her Mama’s soothing touch and hear the sound of her father’s reassuring voice, because the foundations of the house felt unstable and it made her tummy twist painfully and her Mama and Papa always knew how to make her feel better.
Noticing her nurse was preoccupied with William, she carefully tiptoed her way out of the parlour in search of her parents.
On arriving at her Papa’s office door she found it a few inches ajar and poked her head in. She spotted her father sat at his desk, his gaze set off in the distance at something she could not see. His quill was in his hand, yet it lacked it usual manic movement it had whenever her father was lost in his work.
She decided it was best not to disturb him for now; he seemed distracted enough as it was.
Turning on her heels she made her way to the stairs, ascending them with caution. Every creek of the floorboard sounded foreign in the otherwise quiet house. It was a threatening silence, which she did not want to disturb.
On reaching the large upstairs hallway she spotted her doll on the floor and quickly made her way over to pick her up, hugging her to her chest tightly.
“It’s okay Dolly.” She whispered a reassurance to the doll, though the comfort was more for herself.
When she reached the doorway to her parent’s room little Betsey paused, listening out for any warning sounds that she should not enter. Being met with the continued silence she pushed her way through the threshold, quickly noticing her mother laying in bed, exactly where she expected her to be. Her Mama had been in bed a lot recently. The doctor had come to check on her a few times and he spoke in hushed words to her Papa, or her Aunty Angelica. She had heard a few familiar words like baby and rest, but there were a few others that she didn’t know and by the way her Papa and Aunties faces set, they weren’t good and so she didn’t mind not knowing them.
“Betsey?” Her mother had spotted her in the entrance of the doorway, her back was propped up against the headboard of the bed and her lunch sat untouched on the table beside her.
Betsey paused, her brothers had warned her not to bother her parents and maybe she should have listened to them instead of barging in on her mother. She obviously needed rest.
“It’s okay, my love. You may come.” Eliza could see her daughter’s apprehension and smiled at her in encouragement.
Betsey noticed that it didn’t fully reach her eyes, but her mother’s reassuring voice was enough and she quickly bounced her way to the bed beside her.
“Are you okay?” Her mother inquired.
The young girl pouted sadly, “Tummy hurts.” It was still swirling around uncomfortably and she wanted her Mama to relieve the discomfort she was feeling.
“Oh, my poor baby.” Eliza leant over and opened her arms to her, “Come.” She gestured lifting her up.
She felt immediately soothed by her mother’s touch and snuggled tightly into her side. She again noticed the untouched plate beside her and peered up to her mother.
“Mama’s tummy hurt?”
Eliza looked down at her daughter and found her sweet eyes, which were so similar to Philips, looking up with her with such innocent concern.
How could she explain to the toddler that yes her tummy hurt and so did every other atom in her body. That it hurt to breathe knowing that her son would never get the chance to draw in a breath again, that every smile exhausted her, or that she wanted to burrow down into the covers of the bed and disappear forever because living in this world without one of her children did not feel like a world worth living in.
“Yes, Mama’s tummy hurts too.”
Betsey tightened her grip on her mother, before sitting up to place her doll on her mother’s chest.
“Dolly make it better.” She stated, pulling the covers up higher to rest over the doll and her mother, her own stomach-ache forgotten.
Eliza felt a genuine smile forming on her lips; her darling daughter was such a caring and kind spirited soul.
“Better?” The child asked hopefully.
Eliza nodded, feeling a little lighter than she had felt 5 minutes previous. Whilst she had lost one precious son, she had six other beautiful children full of life, and another on the way. Despite her wishes for god to take her to be with her boy, she knew she would go on, because she owed it to the rest of her children who still had so much more to experience and give.
She wrapped her arms around her little Betsey, holding her tight; a reminder of what she still had left.
March 1803
Betsey was three years old when her grandma died and her mother left for Albany with just little Phil in tow. She hadn’t really understood that her mother would be leaving for quite so long when she kissed her on the nose and told her to behave for her father. But it was almost a week later and her mother had still not returned, and she missed her. She missed the way she would tuck her in one extra time before stroking her back and singing a song to sooth her when she was adamant that she wasn’t tired. Between them, Alexander or Eliza would usually read their daughter a short story before bed, but her mother would always come in one last time to check on her.
Alexander had been the one to read her a story tonight, but it wasn’t the one she really wanted, and it hadn’t been half as long as she wished.
Betsey sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. If her Papa wasn’t going to check in on her one last time, then she would have to go to him. She pushed the blankets off of her body and hopped out of the bed, landing with a soft thud. She then crept to the small bookcase in the corner of the room in search of her favourite night time read. It was easy to find, the small tattered pocket size book was well loved and had been passed down the line of Hamilton children, having originally been gifted to Philip from his Aunt Angelica. There was something comforting about the well-loved creased pages.
Her tiny footsteps could just about be heard as she pattered her way down the hall to find her father. The glow of candle light coming from her parents chamber called to her and she pushed the door open to find her father sat on the bed next to her brothers with his laptop desk, writing something on a piece of parchment paper.
She frowned at the sight; it seemed unfair that her brothers were allowed in her Mama and Papa’s bed and not her.
She let out a little huff and moved further into the room, finally alerting her father to her presence.
“Hello pumpkin.” He paused his writing and lifted his glasses to check on his daughter.
Her frown lifted a little as she raised her hand to place the small book on his desk.
“Read.” She instructed.
Her father raised his eyebrows at her, “You are supposed to be in bed, little lady.”
“Read, Papa!” She persevered, attempting to climb up the side of the bed, her hands clutching the blankets with sheer determination as she struggled to lift her legs high enough to get any traction.
Alexander laughed at her persistence and placed a hand underneath her to help guide her up.
“I can’t read to you right now, I’m writing a letter to your mother.”
“Mama!” Betsey exclaimed, her face lighting up at the mention. She crawled her way next to her father, burrowing between him and William to make space for herself, to which the boy whined.
“I want to be next to Papa!”
“Now, now. There’s plenty of me to go around.” Alexander placated the boy, ruffling his hair affectionately.
“Papa, read.” Betsey scooted the book further towards him.
Alexander rolled his eyes; his daughter was as tenacious as her Mother.
“Please.” The little girls voice sung out.
And she knew exactly how to wrap him around her little finger like her mother too.
“Let me finish this note to your Mother and then I will read to you.”
“Papa!” She whined, kicking her feet indignantly as if waiting a few more minutes was too much of a hardship for her to endure.
“I’ll read to you while Papa finishes his letter.” John offered, recognising the book well. It was an easy read and he would do anything for his father’s approval, as well as to quench his sister’s impending meltdown.
“Thank you, Jack.” Alexander smiled in appreciation.
Betsey let out a dramatic sigh, but her brother ignored her, picking up the familiar book and reading it out loud, just like Philip had done to him years ago.
Alexander felt warmth spread through his body as his listened to John read to his younger siblings.
He looked down to his letter, deciding to update Eliza on the children, adding a few extra specifics on Little Eliza and her interesting ways.
Once completed he placed his desk to the side and turned his attention back to his children. William’s eyes had closed and Betsey was sprawled over him in an attempt to see the pages John was reading.
He was glad to have his children by his side. The bed had felt too big with just him in it, the space where his Eliza usually slept left cold and barren. He missed her terribly and wished he could be with her and her family to help comfort them. He had reminded Eliza to be strong for her father, to remember that she was a Christian, yet he knew the moment she arrives back home her floodgates will come down in the comfort of his arms.
She had been wobbly when she left. The fresh anguish she felt for her mother had nagged away at the grief she was still learning to live with and opened new wounds, leaving her reluctant to leave her family. Alexander reassured himself in the hope that she would find consolation in her siblings, their shared sorrow for the loss of their mother would hopefully be beneficial. Peggy was also no longer with them, another wound which had been reopened, yet Eliza had felt a sense of peace knowing that her mother would be reunited with her in a better place.
Alexander had briefly considered travelling with her, but neither of them wanted to leave the children on their own, and taking them with them would likely be too overwhelming for her father. Besides, Hamilton had faith that Angelica would be a constant source of comfort to his wife in her time of need. If there was anyone as closely devoted to his wife as him, it was her elder sister.
Still, it didn’t lessen the longing he felt for his wife to be reunited with him. He made a silent promise to himself to always be a source of comfort to her, as she would always be for him.
He imagined them as and old couple, spending lazy afternoons on the porch, or pruning the flowers together in the garden and Eliza baking him apple pies with their home grown apples from the orchard. He imagined them as grandparents, their children moved out of home and creating their own families, yet keeping The Grange alive with the sound of their children, which he and Eliza would happily look after and bestow love upon at any given opportunity.
He couldn’t wait to grow old with his Eliza and watch their children follow their path in life.
Betsey stretched out beside him, her foot digging into his side as she yawned.
John paused his reading, closing the book and feeling special knowing he was the last child awake.
“Night Papa.” He spoke, placing the book on his mother’s bedside table and snuggling up next to William.
Alexander couldn’t bring himself to move little Betsey back to her bed, and so he curled up beside her in the small space he had left.
“Good night my angels.”