Hamilton’s ambitions, arrogance, and political extremism served him well during his time as Secretary of the Treasury. The new Constitution was little more than a framework of a government, and Hamilton used every opportunity to shape policy and set precedents as he saw fit. He pushed to expand the powers of the presidency and the government’s reach. He tried to foster bonds with Britain and fend off ties with Revolutionary France. Envisioning himself as an American prime minister, Hamilton became the lightning rod of Washington’s administration.
With no national system of finance and a pressing host of disorganized state debts at hand, Hamilton did what he did best: he devised an ambitious plan. It had three parts. First, in his Report on the Public Credit, Hamilton called for the national assumption of state debts, making Revolutionary War debtors beholden to the national government rather than to the states. Second, he created a national bank, convincing the wary Washington that his broad construction of the Constitution was well founded (“Opinion on the Constitutionality of a National Bank,” February 23, 1791). Third, he encouraged manufacturing in the hope of fueling and diversifying the economy. For the most part, he was successful.
As unremarkable as Hamilton’s plan may seem to twenty-first-century eyes, it was radical for its time, promoting centralized power in a nation that had just broken away from a monarch, weakening the political pull of state governments among a people who had long seen their state as their country, and promoting manufacturing in an agrarian republic. To many, Hamilton’s ongoing attempt to win the allegiance of the wealthy and wellborn was equally alarming, an aristocratic throwback to America’s British past.
By 1792, Hamilton’s assertive policies had roused increasingly partisan opposition. With the guidance of Hamilton’s onetime friend James Madison and Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson, Republicans opposed Hamilton’s centralizing efforts politically and in the press, dividing the nation in the process. Hamilton responded by plunging into political combat, strategizing with fellow Federalists behind the scenes while savaging his foes and promoting his policies in newspapers. The three newspaper essays in this section—“An American No. I ”(August 4, 1792), “Pacificus No. I” (June 29, 1793), and “Tully No. III” (August 28, 1794)—show the depth and breadth of Hamilton’s polemical blending of logic and vitriol. His lengthy letter to Edward Carrington (May 26, 1792) offers Hamilton’s view of the rise of party politics. Not surprisingly, he pinned much of the blame on Jefferson.
The nation’s leading Federalist, Hamilton was a fierce and unforgiving foe, and fellow New Yorker Aaron Burr felt the hard edge of Hamilton’s opposition. These years marked the rise of their rivalry, as Hamilton—alarmed by what he saw as Burr’s boundless opportunism and ambitions—devoted himself to opposing Burr’s career. Hamilton’s letter to an unknown correspondent (September 26, 1792) offers a taste of Hamilton’s abuse.
Given the period’s political turbulence, it’s easy to forget that Hamilton also had a personal life. Letters show him offering advice to his oldest son and daughter (To Philip A. Hamilton, December 5, 1791; to Angelica Hamilton, c. November 1793), and reveal his playful side. Writing to his sister-in-law Angelica Schuyler Church (October 23, 1794) while at the head of a military expedition marching into western Pennsylvania to quash a revolt against his excise tax on whiskey, Hamilton depicted himself as a knight errant warring against the “wicked insurgents of the West,” revealing his outsized love of all things military, and his willingness—even eagerness—to quell disorder with force.