The Age of Hamilton

Chapter 3

Burr stumbled around the town, no law firm confident enough to even hire him, as if they knew what he had done. Had the seconds spoken about his attempt to kill his political opponent? He had failed though. The attempt was enough to give him a sentence in prison. Jail wasn't exactly ideal. He arrived to a small tavern, excited cheers and yelps filled the air. Ignoring the sounds of jubilant citizens, he approached the counter. A drink wasn't going to drown out the feelings of self-loathing. Every employer knew how much of a joke he was, of how politically unnecessary, he was. I'll go talk to the ambassador of Great Britain. He thought as he brought the mug of beer to his lips. The faint sting of the alcohol burned his throat as it slithered down. Placing a few bills on the counter, he noticed the previous excitement and previous happiness that filled the tavern with its intoxicating vibe turn sour.

Newspapers were open as people whispered about the latest news behind cupped hands. Former Vice President Aaron Burr Attempts to Gun Down Political Rival

Aaron Burr's fists clenched, turning a ghostly white against the milky glass of the mug. He caught bits and pieces of the conversation. The bastard orphan had the duel published? It hadn't even been more than a week. It became more apparent that Alexander was unavoidable, uncanny with a pen to paper. His words spread like an unknown disease, infectious and running through everybody.

Two men entered the tavern, blue eyes milky, swimming with the glittering of light that the alcohol within the beer causes. Their footsteps staggering, eyes wide. The two men were unaware of Burr's watchful gaze and listened in on their conversation as they were led to a booth, just a few feet away. "Oi, did you hear that the associate justice of the supreme court is being taken to trial on assumed charges of treasonous actions?"

The other man and Aaron Burr raised an eyebrow, his back straightening. "Yes, it was in the pamphlet. Rumors are spreading that Alexander Hamilton, that West Indies man-"

"Immigrant but go on," Said the first man, a southern drawl tainting his words and thickening them to the point where Burr had to strain to actually hear what he was saying.

"He's going to the bar in New York City to reconcile with his old career."

"I thought a man shot him," The first one said with a tip of the milky glass.

"Somehow, Alexander survived. Surprised he didn't kill the shooter though. It's rumored, he led the ambush against the British during the battle of Yorktown."

Aaron Burr's fist clenched, the bar stool trembled underneath his weight. Was his foot really digging into the wooden bar that supported the seat to the legs? With an angered huff, he slapped down a couple more bills and wandered to an empty, cheap bedroom in a small house. He wasn't staying in New York for long...if he fled he couldn't be tried, hypothetically speaking. The unusually warm evening air suffocated Burr's airways. Go to Philadelphia. An inner voice spoke but Burr ignored it as he walked to the desk. Addressing Hamilton in person was one thing, he oozed confidence despite the very fact that he shouldn't even be alive. The quill in his hand trembled as he etched the formal greeting, as if addressing a colleague or client back during his time at the law firm. He scrawled his complaint, the candle flickering every so often as he moved his arm across the page.

Wax slid down the lit candle causing Aaron's eyes to divert to the slowly moving wax. Shaking his head, he leaned back running a hand across his face, wiping away invisible droplets of water. Folding the now dry letter, he placed it carefully in a professional envelope. Exiting his room, his footsteps clicked off the cobblestone streets as horse hooves clicked off the street. Finding his way to the postal service, his footsteps were halted at the sound of a voice that rang through the crisp evening air.

"Aaron Burr, sir?"

The voice belonging to a man the senator knew all too well weaved his way through the crowd of people, angered slurs escaping his lips. "Haven't you ruined my reputation enough?"

The smile that was on the man's face, faded. "If the letter's addressed to me, I'd like to see it. If not, well that's your business."

Aaron hesitated, the envelope trembling in his grasp. This was not like the man wielding the pistol or the man who threatened to ruin Burr's reputation. Alexander raised an eyebrow, inquisitive as always. His voice was softer, more command in the tone. "If the letter is addressed to me, I'd advise you to allow me to see it."

The stern tone that escaped Alexander's words as they left his lips chilled Aaron to the bone. Without second thought, he handed the letter and watched as Alexander spin on his heel, coat tails flaring upwards as he walked away. "He was supposed to die." The words had barely left Aaron's mouth when Hamilton froze, halfway to the other side of the street.

"Pardon?" He inquired, turning his head where only one inquiring eye was facing him.

Aaron Burr, a former lawyer knew this tactic. A man without experience in wielding a pistol would not have such keen hearing. Aaron straightened his back and a confident, lopsided, but apparent smirk graced his lips. "I said you should have died that morning."

Hamilton's torso turned, his feet taking a mind of its own as he approached Aaron once more. "You never know what you want. You stole my father-in-law's position in the Senate-"

The bitterness in Hamilton's voice became apparent and overwhelming. His voice was still soft yet commanding. The bass only increased. This was not a man who lost his son--an event that would have left him broken, trying to save his family's marriage but at the same time recovering from the murder of his son.

"Oh? And you did?" Burr's voice softened, quiet among the loud cries and clop of men and women bustling around them. "You cheated on your wife, took the money the woman's husband gave you. Rumors are growing about your return to the New York bar of attorneys, to defend Associate Judge Samuel Chase, alleged to have statements that were said in reference to Thomas Jefferson's followers. Mr. Chase is a man, a former lawyer believed to be guilty of treasonous statements, correct?"

The questioning caused Hamilton whose pride was just too overwhelming to refuse a debate. Whether it was petty foolishness, or intelligent stupidity was unapparent to Aaron. Alexander sighed and said, "If you want to argue, let's not do it out in public. I'm willing to listen to you but you have no power to defame me."

"Does it bug you at night? Does the mere thought of you telling your son to shoot into the air--that his death could have been prevented?"

The shock and obvious rage flashed in Alexander's eyes. "Are these the types of things in the letter? You think I wanted my son to die that day? What would you know of a child dying? You, as a parent outliving the very next generation to bring greatness to this country?"

Pocketing the letter, Alexander said, "As a public defense attorney, I am to uphold the constitution, to-"

Before Alexander could finish, Aaron had stormed off. Shaking his head in disgust, Alexander walked away, placing his hands in his pockets as he returned home. "How was the exam?" Elizabeth inquired, pouring a cup of tea.

"I didn't take it yet. I was at the library studying. Rereading the constitution."

Elizabeth nodded, "Will you be gone all day again?"

Alexander glanced at his wife who gave him an accusing look. He sighed and said, "Eliza, I'm not seeing anybody. Besides, Angelica would kill me if she found out I hurt you in the same way I did all those years ago."

Elizabeth finally had something to smile about. "It's just business?"

"As expected but you won't believe who I ran in to."

Elizabeth placed the tea kettle on the table and said, "Who?"

"Former Senator Aaron Burr. Gave me a letter, haven't opened it but I don't want to find out the contents."

"Perhaps it's an apology for almost killing you."

Alexander took the cup of tea, slowly heading to his office. Placing it on his desk, he struggled to inform Eliza what was said during the exchange. He had been the one to tell Philip to raise his pistol up into the air, it was customary. Rightfully, telling her that he knew would break her heart. Pulling the letter from his pocket, he tore it open with the knife in his drawer.

No.