In 2015, a robust strain of slash fiction began to explore the nature of the intimacy shared between aides-de-camp Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens during the American Revolution. Comparing this vast body of writing to popular genres of eighteenth-century fiction, this chapter frames the phenomenon known as "Historical Lams" (Lams being a portmanteau formed by fusing the first syllables of each surname) as the great queer epistolary novel that got away. More precisely, I examine how literary fandom surrounding the Hamilton-Laurens bond ultimately theorizes the cultural function of fiction through eighteenth-century discourses integral to the rise of the novel. I conclude by arguing that this literature offers a valuable framework for reconsidering the world-building potential of reception in the making of queer pasts.

This chapter considers the Federalist Papers, an essay collection by James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and John Jay under the pseudonym Publius and advocating for the ratification of the US Constitution starting in 1787. Beginning with reflections on the origins of the word essay and its many meanings, particular attention is given to one of these: the essay as an attempt to do something, either as an action or through writing. A central question guided the ratification debate: Could there be an essay – a concerted effort – striving toward just representation? In the passionate debates between Federalists and Anti-Federalists, a secondary, hidden debate was simmering: In what kind of prose should arguments be articulated? Was the essay, with its notoriously loose style and method, up to the task? In its ability to accommodate multiple, sometimes contradictory viewpoints in the same textual space, was it ideal for puzzling out the nation’s future? Or was it too distracted, a form of bad thought scribbled in haste, unsuited for such a momentous task? This chapter shows the correlative features of striving toward a political ideal and the striving involved in essayistic writing.

It is not possible to argue that the framers wisely created the electoral college and provided a sound basis for selecting the president in the twenty-first century. The electoral college does not work at all as the framers anticipated. Electors rarely exercise discretion and are condemned when they do. Instead, they are agents of political parties, which did not exist in 1787. The House has not selected the president since 1824. In addition, most of the motivations behind the creation of the electoral college are simply irrelevant today. Legislative election is not an option, there is little danger that the president will be too powerful if directly elected, voters have extraordinary access to information on the candidates, there is no justification at all for either electors or state legislatures to exercise discretion in selecting the president, defending the interests of slavery is unthinkable, and the short-term pressures have long dissipated. Those delegates who wanted electors to exercise independent judgment or be selected by state legislatures would soon be disappointed, and there is no support—and no justification—today for either option. In addition, the broad thrust of constitutional revision over the past two centuries has been in the direction of democratization and majority rule.

The relationship between capitalism and nationalism escapes easy generalization – hardly surprising given the many conceptions of nationalism, and the many stages and varieties of capitalism. Let us begin, then, with some ideal-typical definitions.

Nationalism is a form of politicized ethnicity in which a self-identified cultural group seeks to create or succeeds in creating a nation-state of its own. It also refers to ideological goals and tangible policies oriented to the preservation or strengthening of the nation-state.

There are as many ways of defining capitalism as there are of nationalism. For our purposes, this definition is most useful. Capitalism is a political-economic system in which property rights are legally protected by the state, in which prices are set primarily by supply and demand in a market composed of profit-seeking entrepreneurs or companies, usually (but not always) employing free wage labor.

This chapter discusses centrism as another face of moderation. It distinguishes between various meanings of centrism and makes a connection between a vital center and political moderation. It also considers a few concrete topics on which a centrist agenda is possible and desirable.

The case of internal improvements at the federal level from 1787 to 1837 suggests that American governance patterns were pragmatic and utilitarian, rather than committed to laissez-faire theory of the small state. Federal power can be used in a variety of ways to create a liberal capitalist state by building transportation and communication infrastructures. While the concessions in America’s constitutional model to small-state Republicans often thwarted the more ambitious plans, it was not laissez-faire theory that prevented the use of federal power for nation-building projects. When government in the first half of the century wanted to promote economic development, “no overriding theory held government back.” The liberal forms of governance that developed in America were not the Lockean minimal state that Louis Hartz famously imagined to be America’s continuous laissez-faire tradition. Rather, the American experience of internal improvements reveals the complicated entanglements of state, law, and capitalism in the nineteenth century and illustrates the continuing problems with neat categories of state and market, public and private, to describe the political economy of capitalism.

The United States was one of the world’s first modern nations and one of the first to break free from colonial rule. It therefore stands at the beginning of the history of economic nationalism. This chapter analyses how nationalist thinking on the economy evolved in the USA from the Revolution to the Civil War. During this era, nationalists shifted from an outward-focused system aiming for economic development to an inward-focussed system based on protection. Developmental ideas were first championed by Alexander Hamilton, but his elitist conception of economic policy did not sit easily with the democratising ethos of the new nation. Economic nationalism became a mass movement as intellectuals like Daniel Raymond, politicians such as Henry Clay and activists in the mould of Mathew Carey jostled over questions of trade, manufacturing and banking. Instead of Hamilton’s close relationship between government and capitalists, the new movement put the everyday American producer at the centre. As it did so, isolationist ideas came to dominate. The intellectual capstone of this strand was provided by Henry Carey, whose influence would entrench a distinctly protectionist ‘American System’.

Neomercantilists rejected the liberal advocacy of free trade, urging instead strategic trade protectionism and other forms of government economic activism in order to promote state wealth and power. Their goals were similar to those of pre-Smithian mercantilist thinkers, but they defended their priorities in new ways by engaging critically with the ideas of classical economic liberals. This chapter describes the important role of Alexander Hamilton and Friedrich List in helping to pioneer neomercantilist thought as well as other less well-known thinkers from Europe and the United States who developed distinctive and influential versions of this perspective. Many of them were inspired by List but adapted his ideas in some interesting ways, including William Ashley, Mihail Manoilescu, Gustav Schmoller, and Sergei Witte. Another key figure, Henry Carey, was more inspired by Hamilton than List, but developed an important version of neomercantilist thought that was very distinctive from both of theirs. These thinkers highlight how neomercantilism in Europe and United States had more diverse content than the common textbook depiction suggests.

The new Constitution had existed for a short time before Madison and others became concerned about constitutional interpretations that were expanding the power of the national government. This early dialogue about federalism centered on what each state viewed as undesirable equilibrium: either forces that would weaken the relative authority of states or forces that would diminish national authority. Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton’s financial and economic policies were broad expansions of national powers including assuming Revolutionary War debts and establishing a national bank. Anti-Federalists and others viewed these policies as part of a dangerous trend towards national consolidation that would eventually annihilate the states. Southern states, in particular, thought that without constitutional amendments to constrain the powers of a Northern majority, the South would be unable to protect slavery. When Virginia’s legislature passed the nation’s first interposition resolutions and a memorial in 1790 to sound the alarm to other states and Congress, it faced Federalist criticism that it was illegitimately intruding into the federal government’s sphere.

Alexis de Tocqueville’s classic Democracy in America is widely recognized as one of the most definitive accounts of American society and political culture. However, his thoughts on the US Constitution have often been overlooked. In this chapter, Jeremy D. Bailey argues that this neglect is unfortunate insofar as Tocqueville’s view of the US Constitution diverges in significant ways from the authoritative rendition of The Federalist. Rather than echoing classic explanations of the workings of the US Constitution by James Madison and Alexander Hamilton, Tocqueville’s understandings of federalism, Congress, US elections, the presidency, and the Supreme Court are more influenced by the constitutional interpretation of Thomas Jefferson. Despite his extensive discussion of other parts of the US Constitution, however, Tocqueville has little to say about the Bill of Rights. This apparent oversight may be explained by the fact that he sees a respect for rights as emerging from political culture rather than any specific institutional framework.

Chapter 7 covers the federal constitutional debates and public debates on ratification, respectively. Substantial selections from Madison’s Notes of the Debates offer insight into the main subject of disagreement: Were the American people to be apprehended in their corporate capacity, at state level, or as a collection of individuals that happened to live various states? Corresponding to this theoretical dilemma, some delegates proposed the equal representation of the states in the national legislature, while others argued that the number of representatives should be based upon the population of each state. In the end, the Connecticut Plan offered a compromise between the two understandings of the people. In some respects, one could claim that the framers managed to recuperate and make permanent the Puritan legacy of the bi-dimensional covenant at a scale previously difficult to imagine. The second part of the chapter presents selections from both the Federalist Papers and the Anti-Federalists’ writings. These excerpts demonstrate the unique combination of theoretical perspectives in the American Constitution as well as lingering doubt about its practicality and legitimacy.

Chapter 2 explores how two rogue diplomats, Robert Livingston and James Monroe, obtained half a continent for the United States without shedding a drop of blood. Despite President Thomas Jefferson's instructions that Livingston and Monroe negotiate only for the city of New Orleans and as much territory east of that city as Napoleon Bonaparte's government could be persuaded to part with, they broke ranks and pledged $15 million for the transfer of the immense Louisiana territory from France to America. This act violated two of Jefferson's most cherished principles: economy in government and strict construction of the Constitution. Fifteen million dollars was a huge sum of money in 1803 - it vastly expanded the national debt - and there was no clause in the Constitution empowering the president to buy land. Livingston and Monroe risked their reputations, and possibly their lives, on the gamble that Jefferson would cast his scruples aside and submit the Louisiana treaty to the Senate. They were right, and, as a result of their disobedience, the United States doubled in size, acquiring 827,000 square miles of territory west of the Mississippi at a cost of three cents an acre. It was a mind-boggling bargain, and, like the treaty that ended the American Revolution, it grew out of American diplomatic indiscipline.