“Advances of this Kind:” A Hamilton/Washington Slash, Part I of III

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“Indeed, when advances of this kind [have been made] to me on his part, they were rec[eived in a manner] that showed at least I had no inclination [to court them, and that] I wished to stand rather upon a footing of m[ilitary confidence than] of private attachment.” ~ Alexander Hamilton, regarding George Washington’s attempts to become closer in the army, 1781.

•                               May, 1787

         It had been years since he had last seen him.

         He stood at the table of the Virginia delegates, talking to James Madison unassumingly. The rays of sunlight shone down upon him through the large glass windows, perhaps the final time they could do so before the delegates closed the shades to uphold the secrecy of the convention.

          He looked every inch the lawyer he had become, with his auburn hair perfectly powdered white and tied back with a black ribbon. He wore a green velvet frock coat with a gold trim and a matching waistcoat with gold buttons. His black breeches and white, silk stockings accentuated his legs, and his black shoes with gold buckles complimented the rest of his appearance. One would not typically use the term “beautiful” to describe a man, yet George Washington could not think of a more perfect word to summarize the sight before him.

         George swallowed hard and clutched his gold-handled, black walking stick more tightly than usual. He grew warm under his black velvet coat as he wondered how he was going to address the one man who he had not seen in years, yet whom he thought of every day.

         He had tried so hard to forget, too. Once he finally returned to Mount Vernon after the war’s end, he had indulged himself in his family, horses and gardens, all the while denying that he felt the way he thought he did in the army. He displayed more affection towards Martha than ever before to assure them both of his devotion. Mount Vernon quickly became his ultimate escape, the place where he could finally achieve inner peace after six years of uncertainty and self-loathing.

         Yet every time a letter from New York arrived on his desk—which was quite often—George opened it and remembered with dread how his newfound bliss was a complete charade. Indeed, it was one of those letters that convinced him to come to this Constitutional Convention and throw himself back into the national political arena. Even as he boarded his black carriage on the morning of his departure and waved goodbye to his wife and step-grandchildren, George could only think of the man he would find waiting for him in Philadelphia.

         And there he was, laughing gaily with Madison and perhaps mocking the other delegates already. The little Virginian could not have appeared more captivated as the animated New Yorker gesticulated with his hands to accompany whatever story he was telling. George noticed how other delegates ceased speaking in their circles and turned slyly towards the colonel, curious as to what the pugnacious yet charismatic delegate could be discussing. 

         Then suddenly, as if adhering to a sixth sense, Alexander Hamilton looked over and his violet eyes met George’s stare. Their gaze remained frozen upon each other for a moment, as if all time had stopped and the bustling political world surrounding them no longer existed.

         George’s heart beat quicker as Alex smiled at him, and it only increased as Alex turned to Mr. Madison and excused himself. Alex began to strut towards his former Commanding General in the confident manner George remembered. That military-like step never failed to draw people’s attention towards him. 

         “Your Excellency,” Alex said suavely. After stopping before him and bowing politely, the colonel added: “It has been far too long.”

         Despite his wish to return the greeting genially, George retained his dignified, stoic air and unexpressive tone of voice as he responded.

            “Indeed it has, Colonel Hamilton. I do hope this convention will afford us the chance to become reacquainted with one another.”

           Alex skeptically glanced at a few Southern delegates standing across the room.

           “If this convention proves as effective as the past few Congresses, we shall have copious amounts of time for recreation.”

            Had it not pained him to do so, George would have smiled. It seemed Alex’s pessimistic demeanor had not decreased over time.

           “Yet now that you are here,” Alex continued, “I feel more certain something shall be accomplished.” The colonel eyed him keenly. “These factions cannot unify without you. I think I speak for all in this room when I say I am very glad you are here, sir.”

           It was the closest thing to direct approval George ever heard Alex grant him. For a reason he could not explain, George sensed that things were going to be much different between them than they had once been in the army. 

            “I thank you for your steadfast support, Colonel. I shall endeavor not to disappoint.”