This is my newest story! I am saying this now - this story will be updated slowly, and inconsistently. It will be mostly be people dealing with the aftermath of Hamilton's death, and struggling to move on. Translations for Lafayette's French will be at the end of the chapter, and if any of my translations are wrong, feel free to correct me! I am certainly not fluent in French, so I'm accepting the mistakes as inevitable.
Disclaimer: I don't own the musical Hamilton.
I hope you enjoy!
The first thought that George Washington thought when he heard the news was Someone's going to have to tell Eliza.
He had been in his tent, leaning over some documents that the code breakers had given to him mere minutes earlier. He had just been thinking, I wonder what Alexander will make of these. When a man dressed in the typical army uniform they wore burst into the tent, breathing heavily.
He quickly moved to meet the man halfway, waiting patiently as the soldier caught his breath. "What happened?" He asked, concerned by the look on the soldier's face.
"I was one of the soldiers in General Hamilton's squad." He told him, "We were ambushed on the way back to camp by the redcoats. We didn't stand chance. The General ordered us to flee."
Fear touched Washington, and dread filled him. "Are you the only survivor?"
The man shook his head, "We only lost two people. Harrison Canterbury was gunned down in the initial firefight and…" The man hesitated, before saying the exact things Washington had been dreading to hear, "General Hamilton ordered us to flee while he covered us. He was shot in the heart."
Washington grew silent as grief filled him, "Thank you for your service. If you could please let me process this alone."
The man nodded, "Of course, sir."
The moment the man left the tent, Washington let down his strong guard. Tears filled his eyes as the old man sat down, his head in his hands.
Someone's going to have to tell Eliza.
Alexander Hamilton is dead.
George Washington considered the young man almost like a son of his. Sure, he was quick to anger and had no filter whatsoever, he admired how he worked tirelessly to do what was right as well as his quick-thinking and ingenuity.
And now the man was dead. He died saving the men he had begged Washington to have.
"If you gave me command of a battalion - a group of men to lead - I could fly above my station after the war." Alexander had insisted.
"Or you could die!" He had fired back. But he had still given in.
And now Alexander was dead.
His mind then went back further, to the letter Eliza had sent him a while ago.
"I implore you, sir, send my husband home. He will fight until the war is won, but he needs to live to meet his son. I need him to raise our son."
What would Eliza do? What would their unborn child do?
"Sir," Lafayette entered the tent abruptly, interrupting the older man's thoughts. "I thought -" The frenchman stopped, seeing the unshed tears in his eyes. "Oh, je suis désolé. I should have warned you before I entered."
"No, no, it's...fine." George Washington dismissed the apology, "I just received news that I think you need to hear."
"What is it, monsieur Washington?" Lafayette's face was completely serious, with some nervousness.
"I just got word that Alexander and his battalion were attacked." Washington paused, before meeting Lafayette's eyes, "Alexander Hamilton is dead."
"Non, il ne peut pas…" Lafayette's shocked whisper barely reached Washington. "How...How can this be?"
"They were ambushed. Alexander ordered his men to retreat while he brought them time. He gave his life for them. He gave his life so that we may win this war."
"It will be trés difficile to win without him. He was a good man." Lafayette took a seat at a chair opposite Washington, folding his hands and looking at the floor.
"The best."
"Have you thought about how you are going to tell Eliza about this?" Lafayette asked quietly.
"I can't imagine how much this will hurt her," Washington admitted, "Did Hamilton tell you?"
"Tell me what?" Lafayette asked, looking up at him.
Washington sighed softly, "Eliza is pregnant with his son."
Lafayette drew a short breath, "Oh, cette pauvre femme." They were both silent for a moment, before Lafayette spoke once more, "You should tell her in person."
"I thought that too," Washington admitted, "But that would mean I'd have to tell her after the war. And who knows how long we are going to be holed up here."
Lafayette stood, a new fire burning in his eyes, "Then let us win the war. We must show them that Hamilton did not die in vain. We owe it to her to finish this as soon as possible."
Washington gave the man a small smile, "It's what he would do for us."
"Oui. So let us go, sir. Gagnons la guerre, pour notre compagnon d'armes."
And that's exactly what they did.
Two days later, they slowly lowered their gun as a young redcoat waved a white handkerchief from atop a parapet.
And, just like that, the war was over.
"I may not live to see our glory, but I will gladly join the fight!" Lafayette recalled the words he, Alexander, John Laurens and Hercules Mulligan has sung at a bar one night, long ago. Back when they were just starting out.
Alex, you were so close to see our glory.
Oh, how do I tell nos amis?
He knew he should consider himself lucky, as he was not the one who had to tell Eliza Hamilton that she was now a widow.
He saw Hercules Mulligan soon after the war ended, as he took a break from his job as a tailor to celebrate the victory. He was in a bar not far from Yorktown, where people were celebrating their freedom over beers.
"That's what happens when you mess with the ruffians!" He cheered. Lafayette knew his friend had played a vital role, as he had been a spy for the Sons of Liberty.
"Mon ami, I must tell you something." Lafayette said seriously, sitting across from his old friend.
"That we kicked Britain's ass?" He asked, taking another sip of his beer.
"Non," Lafayette's voice was serious, and Mulligan was surprised to see intense sadness in his friend's eyes, "I have bad news."
"What happened?" He asked, setting down the beer and leaning closer to hear him better.
"I'm afraid that Monsieur Hamilton will be unable to meet us tonight," He said softly, "He and his men were caught in an ambush. He was shot when he stayed back to allow them the time to flee." He drew a breath, "Alexander Hamilton is dead."
Shock, then rage came across Hercules Mulligan's face, as he violently swore. "Those bastards." He said harshly, before grief entered his eyes. "I can't believe that…" he didn't finish his sentence, and instead opted slam his fists into the table.
"I'm afraid it gets worse, mon ami. You remember Eliza?" Lafayette asked, his voice quiet.
"His wife, yeah." The other man replied, "I feel bad for her. They hadn't been married for long yet they seemed head-over-heels for one another."
"Eliza…elle est enceinte de son premier enfant. She is pregnant with his son." Lafayette told him.
A surprised look came over Hercules' face, "Alex did always want a son…" He then cursed, "Damn it, why'd it have to be him? Why did he have to die?"
"I think a part of him always knew he was going to die in battle. You remember what he said, non?" Lafayette reminded him, "'I may not live to see our glory, but I will gladly join the fight.' We all joined in, but I think for him it was more than un facile l'adage - a simple saying."
"That man…" Hercules Mulligan shook his head, before his face softened. "Thank you for telling me, Lafayette."
"C'est non problème, mon ami." Lafayette said, "I thought it was better for you to hear about it in advance than to hear it through the, how you say, grapevine. Now, if you will excusez-moi, I must write to John Laurens."
"Good luck, Lafayette. Not just with talking to John, but also with your own revolution. I bet you can make France a better place."
"Merci, and I wish you the best of luck in rebuilding your country. À la prochaine." And with those departing words, Lafayette left his old friend to grieve in peace, and wondered how he was to tell John Laurens, another good friend of both himself and Alexander that their quartet was down to a trio.
George Washington was wondering how to tell Eliza Hamilton that she was now a widow.
He knocked on her door, his hat off of his head and instead he pressed it against his chest politely. The door to the Hamilton home opened gently, yet quickly as Washington saw Eliza's pregnant form in the doorway.
"Hello, Commander Washington." She greeted him politely, with a smile. "Is my husband with you?"
Washington was unable to keep the sad and grieving look off of his face when he opened his mouth to speak, "May I come in?"
Eliza, seeing the look on his face, nodded and opened the door for him. She tried to hold it open as he entered, but he politely refused and allowed her to be seated before him out of sympathy, as well as politeness (after all, he was still a guest in her home).
"What happened?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper as anxiousness appeared on her face. She wasn't blind - she knew something was wrong. Even if Washington had been emotionless, she sensed something was wrong from the moment she saw the carriage appear in front of her house.
"Eliza Schuyler-Hamilton, it is with my deepest regrets to inform you that…" He took a breath, and his breath nearly caught in his throat at the sight of the terrible realization on her face.
"No." She shook her head, heartbreak appearing on her face. "No."
"...your husband, Alexander Hamilton was shot and killed in the Battle of Yorktown, four days prior."
"No. I...I refuse to believe this." She managed to stutter out. Emotion after emotion passed through her eyes as tears began to flow freely. "My husband is not…" She choked on air when she tried to say the last word. She couldn't accept it. It couldn't be true. Not Alexander. Not her Alexander. Not their son's father. Not her husband.
Alexander Hamilton could not be dead.
"Not him. Anyone but him. My husband is not dead!" She cried out, covering her face in her hands. Washington attempted to comfort her, but he knew it didn't mean anything.
Nothing he could do would soothe the pain.
Only time could do that.
Lafayette's French:
Je suis désolé - 'I am sorry'
Non, il ne peut pas... - 'No, it cannot...'
Trés difficile - 'Very difficult'
Cette pauvre femme - 'That poor woman'
Gagnons la guerre, pour notre compagnon d'armes - 'Let's win the war for our brother in arms.'
nos amis - 'Our friends'
Mon ami - 'My friend'
Elle est enceinte de son premier enfant - 'She is pregnant with a boy'
Un facile l'adage - 'A simple saying'
C'est non problème - 'It is no problem'
Excusez-moi - 'Excuse me.'
À la prochaine - 'See you.'