The Age of Hamilton

Chapter 1

The sun had just peaked over the line of trees that had begun to scatter across the horizon. Rays that had originated from the orb of light in the sky, danced across the water. The light dancing across caused the meniscus of the river to glitter like two clear puddles of water that had occupied the cracks within the cobblestone street. At the age of fifty-three, Aaron Burr emerged from the boat. His hair had already begun the graying process, as the stray pieces curled around his ears. As if he hadn't slept in a while, there were bags under his drooping eyes. As if on cue, the doctor, a man he wasn't at all too familiar with, stepped forward. In his hand, he held a container. Within the container, he held a medium sized wooden box of which held two twin single-barreled pistols.

Aaron and his soon-to-be opponent knew that hesitation was never a pleasant sign prior to the events of a duel. Aaron Burr's gaze fixated upon the man. The opponent was his younger foil. The opponent had zealously endorsed Thomas Jefferson. An act that allowed the Virginian candidate to steal the 1800 election. Said election was won in an unexpected landslide victory. Aaron Burr, as he fidgeted with the butt of the pistol, knew how well a shot his rival had been. The actions encompassing the revolution and the aftermath still obviously plagued his mind.

The forty-seven-year-old representative from New York stood confidently. However, just like Burr, himself, his eyelids had drooped over his eyes, slumber seeming to have been also eluding him. The fact that he had grown exhausted from having his head bowed over a sheet of paper, behind a cramped desk, was evident in the man's stance.

His eyes held a confidence that Aaron Burr could only wish to have possessed.

I want to prove myself. Prove I am worth more than some man from a colony in the middle of the ocean.

The fear that once swept over the dueling ground had been wiped clean as though it had been a slate. They stood back to back, their seconds watching almost too intently. Weehawken was a small forested area near the Delaware River. The opponent standing a mere three brisk steps away from Aaron raised an eyebrow and Aaron swore he could feel his opponent tremble slightly as gunfire rang out in the distance. Strange, Burr thought but the thoughts in his opponent were rushed as his opponent audibly gasped. 

This is where my son died.

The rival tensed then suddenly relaxed as his mind wandered away from the actions lying in front of him. His opponent inhaled sharply, allowing his mind to return to the events falling into place. He wasn't going to allow another person die at the petty had of a man whose beliefs were like a line drawn in the sand. Beliefs that were obviously present but not quite ready to be executed. People failed to even recognize where Aaron Burr had stood. Sure, he had declared himself a Democratic-Republican but to the younger man, that little factoid failed to matter in the moment. The way that Aaron Burr clenched the butt of the pistol, his rival knew he was trembling as though he was a leaf clinging to a branch. "One of us is not going home," His opponent's voice rang out, like molasses as his words cracked the early morning silence.

I will not abandon my daughter. Burr thought briefly as he spun on the ball of his heel facing the overly confident gaze of Alexander Hamilton. His finger had been on the trigger, surely his eyes didn't betray him. Hamilton, the soldier who had fought during the revolutionary war, slowly aimed his pistol towards the sky. The very same man who wrote fifty-one out of the eighty-five published federalist papers was willing to lose his life over saving his own reputation. The honor to his family's name. The loud crack of the pistol was heard as smoke barreled out of the end. Alexander slowly stepped to the side, cringing a bit as the bullet passed him by. The pistol that was clutched in his hand fell to the ground. The single, lone bullet had missed. Alexander's eyes had closed tightly expecting the bullet to pierce him. It should have been a relatively quick and painless death. His honor, the reputation and the legacy he had built for his children and generations afterwards, even the country he helped found, flashed before his eyes. Him. Alexander Hamilton, a lawyer and veteran, was at a complete and utter loss for words. "You-" He murmured, the words coming out breathy. His shoulders had tensed with anticipation of Burr's next words. Alex paused, staring at his once best friend now enemy as Burr still stood clutching his own pistol. The bullet that had escaped the cool grip of the pistol's barrel had landed several feet behind him. A gasp had escaped his lips and yet it sounded so foreign, confusion was written on his face. Alexander shook his head in utter disbelief at the pistol that trembled ferociously in Burr's hand. The doctor ran forward, bending down to retrieve the pistol Alexander dropped.