“The mistakes of the father are often visited upon the son.”
“The apple doesn’t far very far from the tree.”
“Like father, like son.”
These are phrases that you and I have probably said hundreds of times. We watch children grow up and, whether they belong to us or not, we often notice that the path they follow in some ways resembles that of their parents. And sometimes that’s good. Some parents work really hard to set an excellent example for their children, and the kids pick up that example and run with it. Of course, sometimes the opposite is true, and we watch a cycle of anguish and heartache begin to form. And then we’ll shake our heads, turn back toward our front door, and mutter one of those phrases under our breath.
But sometimes the time-space continuum gets all contorted. What was “up” becomes “down” and things start to get all wobbly. When that happens, it’s the behavior of the children that ends up manifesting itself in the parents. Yikes!!
Parents are supposed to be experienced…mature…capable of clear, sound thinking and good judgement. Usually…
Well, time and space conspired to create just such a flip-flop in the Hamilton family. Alexander Hamilton’s family. Philip Hamilton was oldest of the children and he had every indication of following in his father’s footsteps. He was intelligent, good looking, and a bit of a rake (in a youthful way). He was a fine orator and writer. The future was promising for young Philip, so much so that his father called him the “eldest and brightest hope” for the family.
But like his father, Philip had a strong sense of honor and, even in his youth, would protect that honor at all costs. July 4, 1801 was a day of celebration. The country was a quarter century old, and there was celebration and pomp throughout the country. There was merriment and feasting. And, of course, there was speech-making. In New York, the people gathered for the reading of the Declaration of Independence. When it was finished, George Eacker got up and addressed the crowd. This young lawyer was a strong supporter of the Republican movement and President Jefferson. And as we know, Jefferson was no friend of Alexander Hamilton.
Eacker praised Jefferson for saving the Constitution and the Republic from the likes of Hamilton, blaming Hamilton for the XYZ Affair and, once again, accusing Hamilton of favoring a return to monarchy. Of course, the speech was published in the newspaper. And Philip Hamilton read the papers.
Fast-forward to November when, by chance, young Hamilton ran into George Eacker at the Park Theater. The encounter was heated, with strong words and loud voices that created a disturbance for others trying to watch a play. Eacker muttered that Philip (and the man with him) were “rascals”. Today, the word “rascal” means very little. Maybe we think of Alfalfa or Buckwheat in black and white, but that’s about it. In 1800, however, the word was loaded. Calling someone a rascal was the codeword to a duel…and that’s exactly what happened.
Two days later, on November 22, Philip Hamilton and George Eacker exchanged gunfire. Hamilton had already determined to let Eacker pull first before wasting his own shot in the air. Unfortunately, Eacker did not throw his shot, which ripped through the former Treasury Secretary’s oldest son and dropped him to the ground. Taken immediately to the doctor, Philip was soon joined by his father and mother, who was pregnant with their eighth child.
At 5:00am on November 23, 1801, Philip Hamilton died from his injuries, leaving grief-stricken parents, brothers, and sisters. Eliza’s baby, born in June of the following year, would be named Philip in honor of the lost son.
And in a striking coincidence, the father did not learn from the mistake of the son. As we well know, Alexander Hamilton would meet his end in exactly the same fashion: a duel in which he had decided to spare his opponent…one Aaron Burr.
Today's History Lesson 