Is the portrait where Eliza's wearing that powdered wig the only painting we have of her?
Here are her life portraits:
1787, age 30
This was painted by Ralph Earle in 1787, when Mrs. Hamilton was thirty years old. The artist at the time was In prison for debt, and Mrs. Hamilton sat to him in order to aid in his release. (source: Life Portraits of Alexander Hamilton).
c. 1796, age 39
By James Sharples. Little is known about this portrait because, from what I know, it only popped up recently (people used to believe a different portrait by Sharples was of her). This link claims it was when she was still Miss Elizabeth Schuyler, but the artist was not in America at any point before she was married. Considering he did her husband around 1796, it’s a fair guess that is when this was painted as well.
1825, age 68
This is from an original miniature on ivory painted by Henry Inman in 1825, when Mrs. Hamilton was sixty-eight (source: Life Portraits of Alexander Hamilton).
1846, age 89
This is from an original pencil drawing made by Eastman Johnson in 1846, when Mrs. Hamilton was eighty-nine. In March, 1846, Mr. Johnson had a studio in the Capitol at Washington, and one day Mrs. Hamilton wandered into it. Mr. Johnson got her permission to make this sketch, of which he writes, “ It was a perfectly good likeness of a pretty, frowzy old lady.” (source: Life Portraits of Alexander Hamilton).
1851, age 94
This is from an original crayon made by Charles Martin in 1851, when Mrs. Hamilton was ninety-four. (source: Life Portraits of Alexander Hamilton).
March 31st is International Transgender Day of Visibility - a day dedicated to celebrating all things trans and raising awareness of the discrimination and hardship transgender people face around the world. I believe that this is an important thing to participate in, so starting today I’ll be posting once a day until TDOV in response to a set of writing prompts I found online. I’ll also be adding selfies!
The full text of the comic is below!
Day 1: Make yourself known. Tell the world your name, age, and how you identify. Post a picture of yourself.
My name is Ramona Dawn Sharples.
I’m 24 years old, and I’m a proud 6-foot-4-inch woman with a deep voice, broad shoulders, and giant hands.
I identify as a woman. But I also feel that being transgender is becoming a big part of my identity.
Being able to live as the person I’ve always wanted to be has made me happy beyond belief, and I’m looking forward to sharing that with you this month <3
A/N: Guess what guys I didn’t fall off the face the Earth! I know I haven’t posted in forever (let’s not pull out the calendars please). Let’s just blame finals and the fact that I actually studied instead procrastinating like usual. Alright, that’s enough from me, now it’s time for the story! ~A
You shut the door behind you as you stumbled numbly into your room.
“Hugh, what the hell just happened?” You said. You turned your head to stare at him and he whimpered in response, taking a few steps back to avoid getting swept off of his perch by your nose. “I mean, what the literal hell just happened?” He whimpered again and flew over to the table, pacing anxiously. You sighed and flopped down onto your bed, jumping up when you realized Jaz was still there, snoring away. She let out a small shriek and rolled off the edge of the bed, landing in an graceful pile of limbs at your feet. “Jesus Christ y/n,” she sighed, pushing her tangled mass of hair out of her face, “if you wanted me to leave you could’ve just asked. No need to sit on me!”
“What are you still doing here?” You said, rolling your eyes. Jaz I’m not up for your bullshit today.
“What? You said I could stay here while you were on your date,” she whined fixing her shirt as she sat up.
“Yeah but I thought you would’ve left by now! What is it like ten o’clock?”
“I assumed you wouldn’t be coming back,” Jaz shrugged, pulling her knees up to her chest and leaning against the bed.
“C’mon sweetie, you were giving him the eyes. I thought you’d be having a little…checkup with the good doctor.”
You leaned down and smacked her on the arm, “Stop it!”
“What? I didn’t say anything!”
“You were thinking it.”
“Oh so you’re a mind reader now?”
You rolled your eyes and walked over your desk chair, “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“You started it.”
“How did I start it?!?”
“Hey, we both know you wanted to check out his… bedside manner.” Jaz smirked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Huginn squawked from his perch on the table and took flight, dive bombing Jaz’s head.
“Hey!” Jaz shouted, covering her head to protect herself from any stray bird droppings.
“What he said,” you laughed, holding out your hand. Huginn landed in your palm and puffed his chest proudly. You smiled and kissed the top of his head.
Jaz cleared her throat, “Are the two of you going to need some privacy?”
“Oh shut up!” You shouted.
“Don’t get too defensive now! It looked suspicious.” You were about to argue when Jaz cut you off. “So, you never told me. How did your date go?”
You sighed and pushed off from the edge of your desk, trailing your foot against the ground as you turned in a slow circle. “Can we not…get into that today?” You said quietly.
“What? You know you can tell me anything!” Jaz said.
“I know but-”
“Then what the hell man? It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“I never said it was bad! I mean he was really sweet until…”
“God, did he makes a pass at you? Like do you need me to kick his ass? Because I can and will and I won’t even feel bad about it.”
“Jaz, are you on something?”
“I only had like three energy drinks and a bag of M&M’s…”
“…one of the family sized ones. But I’m serious! No one will be able to find his body when I’m done with him.”
“For the love of- he didn’t make a pass at me, okay?” You sighed, rubbing your temples with your fingertips.
“Then seriously what’s your issue?”
“There’s no issue!” You said, bringing your hands down and slapping your legs for emphasis.
“Then just tell me how it went!”
“Fine! You want to know I’ll tell you! Everything was great! He was sweet and he was funny and it was all fan-fucking-tastic until the end. He- I don’t even know what happened at the doorstep! He fucking choked and pretty much ran out of here.”
“Wait, that’s what you’re mad about?” Jaz raised an eyebrow.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? ‘That’s what I’m mad about.’” You started angrily.
“Sweetie, all kidding aside it was your first date. Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”
“Jaz, I just-I wanted-I don’t know, okay! I mean I thought he was leaning in but then he just kind of hugged me and ran off and it was awkward and weird and I don’t know what any of this means!”
“Well then explain it to me,” Jaz sighs, rubbing her brow tiredly. “How did it go? And please don’t ever say fan-fucking-tastic again. It just sounds…wrong.”
You laughed bitterly, “He was…great. I mean he was goofy and funny and I’ve never seen him act like that before. He actually laughed at my shitty puns and when we got onto something he was passionate about, his eyes would just light up…” you sighed wistfully. “I sound insane.”
“You sound love struck,” Jaz laughed. “I’m starting to see why you were a little upset.”
“I thought I was just being dramatic,” you said, raising an eyebrow.
“Out of context? Yes, but I could see the way you were talking about him. You’re in love, sweetie.
“Don’t you think it’s a little early to call it?”
“You’re probably right!” Jaz giggled then narrowed her eyes. “You know what, that was pretty fast. Do you think he’s trying to pull some voodoo love magic on you?”
“Well that’s reassuring,” you snorted.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be realistic!”
“In what world is that realistic?”
“Says the girl who goes to magic school and has a magical pet raven,” Jaz shot back.
“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Why are you so good at arguing?”
“It’s a gift,” Jaz shrugged. “Now go to sleep.”
“Whoa! Who made you queen of the world?”
“We had a meeting while you went on your date,” Jaz said dryly. “C’mon, you’ve gotta help me study for my magic theory class tomorrow, and then we’ve got to sort out this whole relationship catastrophe.”
“It’s not a catastrophe-”
“Yes it is.” Jaz cut in. “Now shut up and go to sleep! We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
The next morning, you and Jaz had breakfast in the common area, leaving Huginn to get some sleep in your room. Jaz had spread her disorganized notes all over the table, leaving you to try and decipher her handwriting. She looked up at the ceiling and pursed her lips, trying to summon an answer. “Um…the Cunningham method?” She finally answered.
“No, aquatic manipulation. Jaz, have you even looked at your notes?”
She waved her arms in frustration, filling the air with the swish flowing silk. “You know I’m no good at the whole memorization part of things,” she sighed. She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and crunched into it nervously. From off to your left, you could here the stone door grind open, the measured footsteps that followed unmistakable.
“Shit,” you hissed under your breath.
“What?” Jazz looked up from her apple. “Shit. Do you think it’s too late to make a run for it?”
You peeked over the top of your papers, “Yeah, he’s coming this way.”
“Okay,” Jaz said. “You can do this! Just dig up those feelings and talk about your problems! Or something…”
“Why do I take relationship advice from you again?” You sighed.
“I’m an expert, remember? I read a book once!” Jaz beamed. “I’m right behind you, okay?”
“Thanks Jaz,” you grumbled under your breath.
“What was that?” Strange said as he walked up to your table, two coffee cups clutched in his hands.
“Nothing,” you said hurriedly. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much,” Strange laughed. “I just went down to New York for a cup of coffee.”
“Damn, that must’ve been one good cup of coffee,” you giggled nervously.
“I mean it was more like motor oil than coffee, but it got me going,” he shrugged.
“Are you sure you went to a coffee shop and not a gas station?” You laughed.
“It was past midnight when I got there,” Strange sighed. “The only place open was the tiny twenty-four hour shop near the hospital I used to work at.”
“Aww that sounds so sweet!”
“They’ve got the worst coffee on that side of the Mississippi,” Strange grinned fondly. “Oh that reminds me! I got you something.” Strange grinned, holding out one of the coffee cups.
You eyed him suspiciously, “If that’s diesel-”
“What? No, this is safe!” He turned his hand so you could see the label. “It’s just Starbucks.”
You grabbed the cup and took a sip, “Is this a white chocolate macchiato?”
“Well you said they were your favorite,” Stephen grinned. “And you said Jaz likes black coffee, right?”
Jaz grinned as Strange handed her the cup, “Kissing up to her friends already? I like you.” She took a sip of her coffee and turned to you, her smile even wider, “Can we keep him?”
“Jaz, don’t make him uncomfortable! We went on one date!”
“Actually, I was wondering if we could-uh-talk about that,” Strange said.
His eyes darted over to Jaz for half a second and she stood up, gathering her stack of papers, “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
So much for having my back, you thought as she disappeared in a flurry of skirts and scarves. Strange settled in Jaz’s chair and smiled at you nervously. You clutched your coffee cup a little tighter, your palms starting to sweat. “So…what did you want to talk about?”
“Well…I had a really good time last night,” Strange said quietly.
“I did too!” You smiled, loosening your grip on the cup when you realized it was beginning to crumple in your hands.
“So I wanted to say that I’m sorry for the way I left things off at the end.”
“What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Thanks for trying, y/n, but Jaz told me you were…disappointed about the whole thing.”
“Traitor,” you muttered under your breath. When did she even find the time to tell him? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, it’s not,” Steven sighed, fiddling with the hem of his robe. “I wanted to…apologize because my heart wasn’t completely in it.”
“Wh-what?” You stammered, your stomach plummeting.
“It’s not what you think. I do like you, but-” he stopped suddenly, his gaze distant. “I’ve never really been close to anyone before. At first I didn’t want to be, then I didn’t have the time, then…I don’t know. It was just too late.” He turned back to you, inhaling sharply, “Anyway, I know I’m not too great at the whole relationship thing-”
“Don’t worry about it,” you cut in.
“It’s not a race,” you laughed. “We’ll go slow for now, and if you need to call it quits, I’ll understand.”
“You’re amazing,” Stephen grinned.
“I try,” you said, tossing your hair jauntily over your shoulder. From the corner of your eye, you could see one of Jaz’s neon scarves peeking out from around an over-sized armchair. “Jaz, you can come out of hiding now,” you called.
She stood and straightened her clothes, “Hey, I said I would be right behind you.”
You shook your head and laughed, “I still can’t believe you told him.”
“Considering the way things would’ve turned out, we should be thanking her,” Strange snorted.
“Don’t you think you’re giving her a little too much credit?”
“No he’s not,” Jaz cried. “I’m the glue holding this relationship together.”
“Look what you did!” You laughed. “We’ll never be able to get rid of her.”
“That’s unlikely. If I have to go through all this again, my head’s going to explode,” Jaz said, rolling her eyes. You could here Strange laughing under his breath and slapped him on the shoulder, hiding your smirk behind your hand. I could get used to this.
It was your birthday a few weeks later. Even though you told him you weren’t expecting anything, Strange insisted on taking you out for dinner.
“I still don’t understand why I have to wear a blindfold,” you complained, taking a few shuffle steps forward.
“I told you I we were taking a portal out somewhere special,” Strange sighed, making sure you kept your hands off of the blindfold.
“If ‘somewhere special’ happens to be over the mouth of an active volcano, we’re going to have a problem,” you said, waving your arms threateningly.
“Hey, don’t take my head off!” Strange laughed. He patted you on the shoulder, “Alright, take another step forward and then take your blindfold off.”
Grumbling, you took a step forward, feeling the familiar, energetic buzz of the portal. On the other side, you could feel your feet sinking slightly into the ground, the smell of seaweed and briny water wafting through the air. You ripped off your blindfold and took in waves as they surged beneath the dark sky.
“Do you like it?” Strange said quietly. He’d managed to sneak up behind you.
“Yeah…is this Long Beach?” You said.
“Yeah,” Strange grinned. “It took me forever to find a good spot.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you a further from the shore, “C’mon let’s sit down.” He led you over to a little gazebo that you hadn’t even noticed when you arrived. You could see a couple chairs and a table with some candles and covered dishes set up inside the little hut. “I know it’s not snow cones at the boardwalk, but I thought watching the sunrise together would be a close second.”
“It’s perfect,” you said, pulling him into a hug.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, pulling away. He rushed over to your seat and pulled your chair out for you, “I was worried you’d think it was too much!” He rambled. “I know you said you didn’t really want anything, but I thought I’d make today special and-”
You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, silencing his frenzied speech. You pulled away and smiled, “It’s the best surprise anyone’s ever given me.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and laughed, “Well I have no idea how I’m going to out do this when we hit our anniversary.”
“Anniversary?” You arched an eyebrow, “So I’m guessing you want to stick around for a while.”
“There’s nothing else I want more,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss.
A/N: And that’s about it for this series! Thanks to G for all her help and our lovely anon for their prompt. I can’t wait to see what’s next (now that it’s summer, I have no excuse for not posting!). ~A
I was looking into which Hamilton’s portraits are the closest to what he actually looked like. A lot of them were painted after his death, or even during his life were actually copies from other potraits, and even the copies made by the same artist from their own work look different. I couldn’t find any good listing, and information on art pages is lacking. In my search, I came across this article:
The Life Portraits of Alexander Hamilton Harry MacNeill Bland and Virginia W. Northcott The William and Mary Quarterly Vol. 12, No. 2, Alexander Hamilton: 1755-1804 (Apr., 1955), pp. 187-198 Published by: Omohundro Institute of Early American History and Culture
It’s from the 1955, so definitely outdated, but it’s the closest I could find to a comprehensive list, so here we go. It lists 16 portraits, but I will shorten the list because some of them were made by memory, or look like the artist has some problems with perspective and coonstruction of volume (it happens a lot with older painters).
The earliest portraits it lists are by Charles Willson Peale, 1777:
This one was long considered to be of Washington, and I can see why; to me, it actually looks more like Laurens by the same painter.
This portrait by Peale was lost at the time the article was published, but we all know it now - the one Eliza embroidered so beautifully. There are also some later portraits by Peale, but I don’t find them very life-like, style-wise. (Not that these two look very much like other Hams portraits, either, but we don’t have anything else from that period.)
The first of the big Trumbull portraits (1792) is actually based on the bust portrait painted by Trumbull for John Jay, apparently this one:
The full-length portrait is a copy of this bust with the body added to it, not from life but probably from someone else modelling. (So, not Ham’s pretty legs, pity.)
Then we have the Ceracchi bust. The terracotta model for it was produced about the same time, from life, but it is somewhat difficult to reconcile the painting and the sculpture. Of course, Ceracchi worked in the Roman tradition and probably embellished the likeness towards the more heroic and cesarian looks. On the other hand, the later portraits cited as having great likeness also show sharp and strong lines similar to this one.
The article cites Allan McLane Hamilton as saying that the Sharples miniatures had the best likeness. The miniature was stolen by Talleyrand for his fanboying, and then after Hamilton’s death, an oil copy was ordered and sent back to Eliza because the pastels wouldn’t survive the travel. (There’s actually a bunch of copies made by the artists themselves, which one was the first is unclear.)
This portrait by Weaver shows Hamilton in his General’s uniform for the Quasi-War, also considered having great likeness:
Finally, this potrait by Ezra Emes, painted in 1802 (after Philip’s death), Eliza called “a perfect and excellent likenes”.
Now I really wish someone took all these portraits and made an electronic reconstruction. And age-reversal.
Imagine being in love with your best friend, Quick Silver, Peter Maximoff.
Peter had called me, wanted me to listen to his new records he had gotten earlier that day. As I was on my way to his house, he ran past me, wind blowing passed me. “Ahhh!” I screamed as it surprised me, then noticed my bag was missing. “Peter!” I yelled. He didn’t respond to me “Peter! Give me my bag!” I yelled again, stomping my foot. He ran up to me, his hair blown back. “Why? It doesn’t have anything useful?” He said looking through it, his grey jacket making scuffling noises as he moved his arms. He was wearing his Rush shirt, and he gave me a bratty smile as he looked up at me and held it up above my head “Shorty!” He teased. “Peter!” I said in frustration and folded my arms. “Okay, okay, okay, calm down killer. I hate when you give me that look.” He handed the bag to me, and continued with me to his house. We entered his basement, and he put on a Blue Oyster Cult record, spinning it between his fingers while he whistled, before putting it in turning it up. “Yes! So good.” He said with a huge smile. “What is wrong?” He asked as he noticed I was still pouty from the bag stealing incident. He sped up around me. Stoping to tickle me, as he kept speeding up around me, causing me to jump. I could hear his sweet laughter. He was trying so hard to get me to smile. Then he stopped from behind me, and leaned over, kissing me on the cheek. My heart pounded, I got light headed, as my cheeks turned red. He laughed “So, that’s what it will take?” I feel like Peter always got the feeling I liked him, and he liked me too. It was more so a nervousness to explain it to eachother. He suddenly sped again, and kept kissing my check as he sped passed me. I felt like I was going to faint. That’s when he put both hands onto my shoulder and pushed me back onto the wall with a loud thud. He smiled at me at looked my face over, “Will this make you smile?” He leaned in, and pressed his lips onto mine. I felt like I was floating as all the blood rushed to my head. His lips moving with mine, and he lifted my arms around his neck. He put his hands on the back of my thighs, and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around me as he kept kissing me. He moved me to his couch beside us, and laid me down. Climbing onto me. He pulled away from and looked at my face. “Now are you feeling better?” I laughed and nodded. “Good, I don’t wanna stop kissing you now though, sorry about that.” He said continuing to kiss me “I think it’s okay to say I have a huge heaping crush on you. I got the hots for you, whoops.” He said shrugging. “The feeling is mutual,” I laughed “Oh thank god, I thought so, but in the small chance you didn’t, this would have been way awkward.” He said smiling, and pressed his lips on mine again. His tongue traced my bottom lip, and I allowed him access to my mouth, he moved his tongue against mine, eagerly snaking his hand up my shirt, and grabbing my chest. “Is this okay?” He asked I nodded, pulling the collar of his shirt and pulling his lips back on mine. He let out a small moan as I did, and moved his hand under my bra. With his free hand, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against the buldge that had built up. I rubbed my hand up and down on the outside of the crotch of his pants, causing it to get harder. He pushed his hips against mine, grinding on my hand. In a fast movement he removed my shirt and was back on my lips. “Holy shit that was weird,” I said as he laughed “I’ll show you something else then,” in a quick motion my pants and bra were off. “Oh my god!” I said covering my bare chest. He was then back on me, now shirtless, his body very built. He smiled at me and leaned down to keep kissing me, I held his face in my hands and he starting to press his hips into mine. I could feel how hard he was as he pressed his length against the outside of my underwear. A light groan escaped his lips as I pushed up against him. He moved his hand down the front of my underwear slowly, as he moved his finger on my slit. He then found my center, and began to rub it slowly, before pressing 2 fingers into me. “Whoa, you’re like, way wet.” He said as he raised his eyebrows with a cocky smile. I unbuttoned his jeans and slipped my hand into his boxers. He exhaled sharply and gave me a surprised look. I laughed, then gripped around his length, moving my hand up and down his shaft, he moaned into the kiss, and pushed his fingers into me me deeper, and faster while I stroked him faster. He pulled his pants down and his boxers, then removed my panties in a faster motion, then before I knew anything he was lined up with my opening. He looked into my eyes, before he pushed himself inside of me. Both of us moaning loadly with the first thrust. “I need to stop for a sec so I don’t go too fast.” He laughed and continued to thrust inside me, harder, and harder. Picking up pace with each one until he was going on the bring of too fast. He wrapped his arms around me, pushing me down deeper onto his length, going further inside of me, scratching his fingers down my back; I pushed him down, stopping him from speeding up, keeping me on top of him. I rolled my hips back and forth, feeling every inch of him in me. He pushed up into me harder and harder. Then grabbing me and flipping on my stomach and taking me from behind, I inhaled sharple surpised at how fast he was at everything. Keeping things interesting. He grabbed my hips and pushed into me faster faster, until I was on the brink of climaxing. He then lifted me up and pushed me into the wall so fast I hardly realized what happened I moaned loadly, as he kept thrusting into me, biting down on my neck, that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore as I hit my peak with him deep inside me. As I tightened around him, he finished as well. As quick as he were on the wall, he laid me down with him and wrapped a blanket around us, in my arms. “Yeah, just because I am quick, doesn’t mean I finish quick,” He said with a laugh. “This means you’re girlfriend now, okay?” He said with a smile. “Okay, I am fine with that.”