A/N: Hey reader! It's time for lots of fictional letters and my fictionalized version of some genuine history! This chapter elevates the tension between Burrger and Hammykins, because it focuses on how Burr established his own bank. Yeah, that seems a kinda random bit to chuck in, but honestly the way he did it was genuinely so unbelievably sneaky, literally he was such an arse about it. It's actually really interesting, so I hope you don't mind me banging on about it for my longest chapter yet! Don't worry, there's also plenty of cutesy Philip and Theo letters! They go from December to the start of Summer (Although Burr's bank actually opened in September, please forgive my inaccuracies!) Hope you enjoy!
This is dedicated to Krista aka Minniemora, for being so consistently incredible.
Chapter 14 - 1799
Theodosia was too groggy to register much when Burr woke her the following morning, hours before the sun rose above the horizon. It was only when she was making her way towards the waiting cab outside that the icy dawn pierced through the stupor of sleep and the slightest traces of a lingering hangover. Both dissipated sufficiently for her to realize the true gravity of the situation. As soon as she did, she clung tightly to her father's hand, terrified to let go because she knew the instant she did, she'd be driven miles away from him.
Aaron Burr squeezed her hand briefly, reassuring himself as much as her that this was the right thing to do. He accompanied her to the cab, and encouraged her to sit down beside her neatly packed luggage - it was bizarre for Theo to be so dependent on his instructions, but she was hesitant to leave, and not a single part of her had any interest in going to New Jersey for her own benefit, leaving his instructions to be the sole motivating force. When she sat, she turned to face him, still holding his hand, and fixed him in an equally restraining look from her watery eyes, one so wide and afraid that he felt it stop his heart for a second.
When his pulse recovered, he managed to flash her a warm, albeit bittersweet, smile. "Don't look so frightened, my dear. I know you'll be fine." He hoped it was true. It was a hastily arranged trip, though he had ensured word reached his step-daughters, and was certain that they would shower Theodosia with hospitality. Even so, he was anxious about the separation, and leaned inside the cab for one last, parting embrace, closing his eyes as he treasured his final fleeting moments with the young woman.
"Promise me you'll write," he murmured.
"Of course, Daddy. I love you," she replied, fiercely returning his embrace, wishing in some deluded way that if she could just hold him tightly enough, she could guarantee that he would be incapable of pulling her away from him.
But there was no chance of that, which both of them knew well. So all Aaron Burr could do was to whisper in return, "I love you, too," gently kiss her forehead, and straighten up, stepping away from the cab before he changed his temperamental mind.
Dearest Father,
I have arrived here and all appears to be well. I already miss you terribly, though I will make a conscious effort not to dwell on this point for I know it would only evoke feelings of guilt on your part. I do not want you to think this is a thinly veiled plea to return home, because I swore to you that I would try to learn and improve myself during my time here, and I fully intend to honour my vow. Now I am here, I suddenly don't think it is going to be too terrible here. Though we are not particularly well acquainted, my sisters are welcoming and treat me with all the warmth and affection a little sister should be shown. So you see, as much as I wish I might see more of you than your letters will present to me, I am enthusiastic to see what type of life I will know here.
All of my love,
Your Theodosia.
The letter from his daughter was a welcome distraction from the work which had consumed his interest almost entirely since she left. He had to pour his focus into some project or other to distract from his mind numbing loneliness, and so he had adopted to investigate his financial situation, and ways to improve it.
To put it frankly, he was in legitimate danger of drowning in debt.
But Burr had always been resourceful, and a culmination of ideas, snatches of conversations, melded in his mind, knitting intricately together to form a plan:
He needed money, and the most obvious place to turn to for that was a bank; his Republican colleagues were constantly groaning with discontent that Federalists had the monopoly on banking systems, in particular Alexander Hamilton's successful National bank and within his own state the Bank of New York. Therefore, not content to simply arrange a loan from the bank, Burr decided that the long term resolution to his problems would be to establish his own bank. The benefits seemed limitless - it would provide him with a sitting pot of cash, gain the favour of disgruntled Republicans, and would give him the immense satisfaction of creating a system to rival that of the man whose relentless pace for progress had continuously stunted his own professional growth, and whose nuisance child had driven him to feel compelled to send his own beloved child away. Yes, it seemed a faultless plan, but for one point.
It required the permission of New York State legislature, and that was not something easily attainable, especially seeing as Burr lacked the funds to create anything at all, let alone a system costing thousands to establish. As he searched for ways around that obstacle he realised he would need a team of analytical thinkers capable of creating hugely influential, persuasive documents to argue his cause and to raise money. Naturally, though he hated to admit it, the first name to come to the forefront of his mind when he thought of almost aggressively talented writers was the exact man he intended to spite with the creation of his bank.
Setting aside Theodosia's letter for the time being, he returned to pondering the issue at hand. He sensed he was so close to a breakthrough, yet he had an ominous fear in the depths of his stomach that it would not be a solution he would be happy to perform.
Hamilton is not foolish enough to aid me in my pursuit of an objective which would challenge his own bank's lucrativity. However I can see no other potential recruit who would guarantee the success of my venture, which means I absolutely must have him. Sighing, he realised he had no choice.
This calls for me to live up to his expectations of me, to deceive him.
And thus, the idea of the Manhattan Water Company was conceived. Though the very idea of intentionally ruining the trust of the man he loathed to call the most intelligent person he knew, Burr set about writing a letter of his own.
Dear Philip,
I write to you from New Jersey. Yes, your eyes do not deceive you, I am in New Jersey! I cannot possibly convey through words how deeply apologetic I am for the unfortunate altercation which took place between you and my father, and can only hope you feel little pain where he struck you - let my admiration for your courage in defending me ease your suffering. Needless to say, our discussions continued after you left, and we eventually reached the conclusion that the solution to the predicament was to send me to live with my sisters - that is, my Mother's daughters from her first marriage - for a little while. Though, I say a little while, yet we have not actually discussed a time frame. I only know there is no chance of me returning home until my Father is convinced I am mature enough that I am not susceptible to your influence. Ridiculous, I know, but we must tolerate my poor Father's precautions, he acts out of love for me. With luck, this separation won't be too long, and we can maintain contact. Adieu, my dear friend; while circumstances place so great a distance between us, I entreat you not to withdraw the consolation of your letters.
Warmest regards,
Theodosia Burr.
"New Jersey," he mumbled, almost incoherently as he read the letter, his ability to speak severely hindered by the warm, damp cloth Eliza held to the scrape on his jaw to sterilize the wound. She had been tending to him periodically throughout the day, alternating between pressing cold ice to the bruise to reduce the swelling and soaking the scratch with warm salt water.
"What was that, my brave young fool?" The doting mother enquired, referring to him with the name she had used for him since the moment she entered his bedroom the previous day to find a young man with a murderous headache created by alcohol consumption and a large purple protrusion on his jaw, both of which had swiftly demanded an explanation. Unable to formulate some convincing lie the instant he woke up, he had admitted the shameful truth, and though she was furious that he had ventured into the city in the dead of night and returned home sporting a hefty bruise from her husband's sometimes-friend, she prioritized ensuring the wound healed quickly above chastising her eldest son for the adventurous behaviour a child of herself and her husband could surely never be without. She removed the cloth from his face to allow him to speak without her hand limiting the movement of his mouth.
"Theodosia has been sent away to New Jersey. She's staying with her half-sisters for a while, primarily so that Burr can make sure I stay away from her, I don't doubt." He grunted, both in some discomfort at speaking and sending a dull ache through his jaw, and in disapproval for the news he'd received.
"I'm not surprised," she replied sternly. She chuckled at his frown of confusion, and ran an affectionate hand through his dark curls as she teased, "Don't look at me like that, my brave young fool, I'm only pointing out that you haven't presented yourself in the most positive manner, running around town with Mr Burr's only child. Truthfully, I don't think we can blame him for trying to keep his daughter as far away from you as possible."
Her soft smile confirmed she had some sympathy for her son, however the comment still struck him as unfair. Plaintively, he argued, "That's ridiculous, I didn't really do anything wrong! Do you think we can't blame Mr Burr for punching me, either?"
She shook her head, returning the damp cloth to his jaw to ensure his silence, "Of course nothing justifies physical violence. All I meant was that Mr Burr -"
She stopped, unnaturally suddenly, the smile falling from her lips. She had heard the door brush against the floor as it was pushed open, and recognized without having to turn around the familiar sensation of her husband's eyes on her, boring into her soul. A million years ago, that feeling sent a thrill of excitement surging through her, relieved to have his undivided interest. Now, however, it only served to remind her of the hole inside her heart which she had become so good at ignoring over the past two years, save for when the man who had inflicted such pain was there. Quickly amending herself, she forced a hesitant smile for Philip, brought his own hand to hold the cloth to his jaw so that hers was free, and walked away without sparing so much as a glance towards her faithless husband.
Hamilton sighed, thoroughly disappointed, however it was something he had become accustomed to nowadays. Instead he turned his focus to Philip, still sat in bed as Elizabeth had insisted he stayed. Smirking but sympathetic, he asked, "Did it hurt, or was his fist as flimsy as his beliefs?"
Philip grimaced, recalling, "It hurt. But at least it's not broken."
Hamilton nodded thoughtfully, and mused, "You're right... His aim was always terrible, I'm almost surprised he managed to hit you at all." Growing more animated, he suggested, "I may leave that out of my report, however, it hardly paints him as a major villain if I claim he only hit you thanks to a lucky strike rather than pure malice." As Philip's brow knitted together without comprehension, he explained, "I've been writing a report to be published under a pseudonym detailing his unprovoked attack on you."
Of course. He's barely come to see me at all while I've been stuck in bed thanks to Mother's overreaction, yet all the while he's been trying to help me in the only way he knows: political revenge. Groaning, he took the damp cloth from his mouth and complained, "Please don't. I know you're after any excuse to berate him in the press, but please, not this. He'll only hate me all the more, especially if you lie and say it was unprovoked." With a jolt of fear, he realised, "He'd refute your claims by publishing the truth, or his twisted version of it, and make out like I've been secreting his daughter away. It would damage my reputation more than his."
Alexander mulled it over, and begrudgingly realized the logic in Philip's words. "Even so, I should do something. Confront him directly, if you're so averse to disagreements in the public eye."
Philip shrugged, non-committal, as he replied, "If it pleases you, do as you want. So long as it doesn't have any drastic impacts on me, feel free to do anything you deem suitable." Almost timid, he added, "I'm proud of you, Pops. I trust you to do what's right."
Hamilton,
I will admit upfront that we have encountered frequent differences in the past, you know this as well as I. However, I have a proposition for you which I hope should pique your interest. I know the timing is not particularly convenient considering how our children's interactions have been interrupted and this may displease you, however it is my hope that your love of your fellow New Yorkers will encourage you to set aside any disagreements we share. You see, I have been working with some colleagues to plan a system to deliver fresh water to the city, and should we succeed, it might avert further tragedies such as the yellow fever epidemic of last Summer making victims of our people in the future. Yet it appears we require vast talents of persuasion if we are to get permission to construct the life giving structure. It is no surprise that I think of you in such a time of need, and I would be thankful if you were willing to set aside our differences for the greater good of the city we adore.
Your obt.
A. Burr.
Hamilton had barely had a chance to pick up his own quill to address the man when he returned to his office to find the letter sitting in the centre of his just-tidied desk, both the delivery of the letter and the neatness of his previously chaotic desk courtesy of Elizabeth. The first thought in his mind was to be incredulous, and scornful of any favour the man who dared to lay a hand on his precious son asked of him, regardless of the content.
However, as Burr had intended, the content seemed too tantalizing to flatly refuse, and he was sorely tempted.
There was no denying that his moral reputation could use the respect that playing a part in such a benevolent mission would achieve, and although Burr would reap the rewards alongside him, it was surely a worthy sacrifice to make in order to regain some of his formerly respected standing in the public eye.
Burr punched Philip, and I must confront him over that. But this could be too much of an opportunity of redemption to refuse... And think of the New Yorkers who will thrive, all due to my powers of persuasion. His son's words appeared in his mind, a sure sign of guidance amongst his confusion: I trust you to do what's right.
Though he had every reason to refuse to assist the man, he could not turn away from the lure of redemption. And so, he picked up his quill and played directly into Burr's hands.
Dear Theodosia,
First and foremost I absolutely must tell you that nothing on earth could convince me to desert my contact with you, because you are the most incredible lady I have ever had the delight of meeting. That said, I can't help wish you were closer - my dear Theo, off in New Jersey? I can scarcely believe your father and his determination to keep me from you, regardless of the impact on his own life. Foolish indeed, but thankfully the blow he landed on me is much better, due to my Mother's unnecessary fussing: she insisted I stay bound to my bed until all trace of the swelling has vanished, and though it has been frustrating to be so unproductive, I admit it is easier than going into town and facing the interrogating questions from journalists hungry to know how Alexander Hamilton's son happened to get a punch in the face. My bedridden state is the reason this letter took some time to write, as I have only recently been released, but knowing your gratitude was a huge comfort during the lonely days of boredom. Though I shall miss you even more with every passing day, I truly wish you happiness for the entirety of your trip. I can only dream of seeing you until then, my dear Theo, and trust me when I say I can scarcely wait. Adieu, be happy, and let friendship between us be more than a name.
Warmest affections,
Your Philip Hamilton.
Theodosia couldn't suppress the surge of delight reading every single word, sweeping through her body and setting her senses on fire, burning with a happiness that could not be contained. She smiled, running her eyes over the page a few more times and reaching instinctively for the locket which never left her neck as she cherished each written syllable. Her gaze lingered on "my dear", and after sharing the company of her elder sisters and their pleasant husbands who often referred to their wives with the same name, she was beginning to understand why...
"Might I enquire as to whom sent this letter which causes your eyes to light up so enthusiastically?" The curious voice of Mary-Louisa asked.
"It's from my..." Theodosia halted, uncertain about quite what he was to her. My best friend since I have been old enough to make that sort of choice with any feeling of certainty. And yet he feels so much more than a friend, she realized. As the woman waiting patiently for a response raised an eyebrow, she stammered, "Philip Hamilton. It's from Philip Hamilton."
Mary-Louisa nodded with a knowing smile as she checked, "The same Philip Hamilton who was so intent on chasing after you that your father sent you here to escape his frivolous libido?"
Frivolous libido? I'd hardly call it that. But as for chasing after me... after a momentary pause, Theo confirmed, "Yes, That Philip Hamilton."
Her sister regarded her thoughtfully, before coming to the conclusion, "If his words alone have such an affect on you, I am not surprised in the slightest that Mr Burr was so concerned."
As in he thinks I would fall at Philip's feet, rendered completely helpless by his charming hazel eyes and haphazard freckles? Please. But the fact that he truly thinks Philip would want me to do just that is... interesting.
Mr Burr, Sir,
I would like to congratulate you on the completely ground-breaking, unrivalled level of ignorance you display in asking anything of me: I should have thought you knew better than to request a favour from a man who adores his family after you have attacked my son so violently. The poor boy (Though in no way defeated by your impulsive behaviour) has been kept in bed because my wife insisted he fully heal before being released to live his life as he rightfully deserves to. It is terrible, in my opinion, that an honest, intelligent young man should be restrained by anything at all, least of all some petty injury inflicted for no good reason whatsoever. I don't hesitate to inform you that I was sorely tempted to make your altercation with Philip public, until he told me it was not his wish for you to be painted unfavourably. Remember that, Sir, for the next time you want to strike any relative of mine, that it is Philip's good nature that has saved your reputation from being dragged through the mud. There is infinitely more I wish to say to you, Sir, but I am afraid it is not appropriate for a man who wishes to take you up on your plea for assistance - you see, despite the fact that you are incapable of speaking your mind and lash out at teenagers with no justification, I can't refuse your project, and I will require a document containing all of your planning thus far as soon as possible so I can begin writing my essays.
Your obt.
A. Hamilton.
The intense sarcasm opening the letter reminded Burr exactly why he felt relatively little guilt at attempting to exploit Hamilton's verbal talents. A letter dedicated to complaining, with his agreement as little more than a footnote, an afterthought... Typical of Alexander, forever insisting on dancing around an answer by being as verbose as possible when making a point - and he claims I'm the one of us who avoids questions. He groaned at the absolutely consistent approach Hamilton adopted without fail. Deep down, Aaron Burr knew that it wasn't his intention to irritate or distract with his excessive use of language: Hamilton always did respond to questions, or even statements, too often ones which did not concern him. He just so happened to do so in such unrelenting depth that it was almost difficult to select the precise issue he was most focused on amongst his forest of other exquisitely argued points. Yet it was that level of thoroughness that made the man such a crucial member of Burr's team. And, though he had taken his time to confirm, Hamilton had in fact agreed to assist Burr's goal, or what he thought Burr's goal was.
Aaron didn't even feel ashamed as his frustration subsided and he grinned at the words he held, words which practically confirmed that he would raise sufficient funds and gain support to create the water company. And then, from directly under Hamilton's analytical gaze, he would twist it to achieve his own ends, a small clause here and there which would make all the difference in the world, and surely be subtle enough that Hamilton wouldn't realize until a bank sprang up to rival his own.
Dear Philip,
Your letters are always a welcome reprieve from the social training my sisters subject me to daily - not that I begrudge them the opportunity to pass down the skills my own mother taught to them, in fact I am grateful for such an opportunity, my only concern is that I can distinctly see traces of them touching me and transforming me from the girl you know to a young woman I scarcely recognize. I think I like the person I am becoming, however, so you needn't fear, I am sure you will love her, too; This is simply the process of growing up, I believe, and I am certain you are familiar with such an experienced yourself. All I can say is that I appreciate every letter, each and every word, as it grounds me and reminds me of the life I cherish outside of the formalities I am learning here. I think, despite the useful lessons passed on from my dear Mother I am learning from my sisters, the most crucial thing is what she taught me herself: society's perceptions may seem important, but reputation is nothing without happiness. Why am I rambling about this? Well, the plain and simple truth is that you, my dear Philip, make me happy. I cannot tell you how many times I have read and re-read your letters, or your poems, and every single time they bring a smile to my face and sunshine to my heart. Speaking of sunshine, it seems Spring is truly upon us! Perhaps I will be able to return home soon, since I've been away for months - I know you share that dream as strongly as I do. Whether I can join you swiftly or not, I do not want my letter to distract you from the pleasant weather, so please forgive me for concluding by wishing you all the happiness you bestow on me.
Warmest affections,
Theodosia Burr.
Each and every word seemed to resonate with honesty as the student's eyes scanned the page eagerly. It seemed so long, in fact it had been so long, since he set eyes on Theo. He tried to distract himself from the ache throbbing in his chest whenever he reopened the wound of their separation by thinking of her by engaging in meaningless flirting with the many girls ready to swoon after exchanging so much as a word with the handsome intellectual. It failed miserably: though he might chuckle at the way they fluttered their eyelashes and blushed, it was only because he was amused by the contrast between the coquettish girls in front of him and the young woman he longed to be reunited with. The single thing to be any genuine help to him was reading her letters.
She said she appreciates every single letter word... But Theodosia, the feeling is more than mutual.
Much to his younger siblings' entertainment, he kept the collection of her letters in the top draw of his desk, above his stationery and textbooks, earning him teasing comments from the younger Hamiltons poking fun at him, accusing him of caring about Theo more than his education.
Well, let them laugh, he always consoled himself, I don't see any reason not to cherish my correspondence with one of the most important people in my life.
Mr Burr, Sir
I have little to say, but you won't be disappointed by the limited quantity of words in this note, because the content should excite you no end: I am delighted to confirm the total funds raised for the Manhattan Water Company has exceeded our target amount. I have heard whispers, mind you, which suggest the manufacturing costs of a water supply system should in actual fact total much less than that. Still, I am sure they are meaningless whispers and nothing more. I have also enclosed another essay on the subject of why this system is to be so useful. Also, let it be known that I approve of your idea of purchasing an office from which to operate the company, and handling any surplus income.
Regards,
A. Hamilton
A sublime smile stretched across Burr's face, one of the few genuine ones since Theodosia had been sent away. Oh Alexander, such enthusiasm and zeal... thank you, good Sir, for you have given me absolutely everything I need. I'm sorry to fool you like this, truly, though I expect we will heal our fractured bond soon enough: you'll forgive me as soon as you want something, and I may gracefully play along. For now, though, I have a bank to create, using the excessive surplus money from building a mediocre water facility.
For the first time in his life, Aaron Burr could fully see why people were so anxious that he would deceive them. Even so, he would take their criticism without flinching, because for the time being, he had achieved success.
Dear Theodosia,
I'm sorry you missed spending Spring in the city. Each and every budding flower reminded me of the boundless growth of your intellect, each blossom petal swirled through the air to settle on the ground with the grace of your twirling skirt when we danced, and the warm rays of the sun reflect the wonderful warm light you exude. Still, with luck, we will share the Summer. I think your father may soften towards me since he has been working with my father on a project of his, establishing a system to deliver clean water to Manhattan. Perhaps along with that honourable venture he has come to his senses at last, and will permit you to return home. After all, there's nothing like Summer in the city, and I'd hate for you to miss that, too. Since you seem to be maturing so much in New Jersey, I suspect Burr will be suitably assured that you are now immune to - what did you say your sister called it? My frivolous libido - and will happily receive you any day now. Please, I beg you, do not starve your dear friend of any change to your situation, for every scrap of information is precious. You know the fond sentiments of
Your affectionate
Philip Hamilton.
How ironic that Philip's letter of such hope that she would soon return should arrive at the same time as one from her adoring father, recognizing the progress she had made during their time apart and deciding he could no longer stand to be separated from his daughter. Theodosia was going home, and Philip was certain to be delighted.
However, instead of the joy which usually flooded over her with every letter, one point of this one struck a feeling of concern in the young woman. She read it again, just to be sure, and then skimmed through the letter from Aaron Burr until she found the thing which made her so uneasy:
Daddy told me he was creating a bank by raising funds to build a water system, then saving some to use for other purposes. He mentioned his partner was not aware of this... But he failed to tell me that Mr Hamilton was the one he was working with.
She drummed her nails against her desk, deliberating any possible solution to the predicament. She couldn't quite believe her father would be so manipulative of a man he'd once called a friend, yet she knew simultaneously that she could not do anything but support him, after all he'd done to support her. There was no way she could warn Philip without betraying her own blood, and by the time any warning letter reached him, there might have been no point in even attempting to avert the fallout which would doubtless follow: Burr said he was as little as a day from beginning operations, and the postage date was three days previous.
Reluctantly, she submitted to being entirely useless. Hamilton would be bitter and furious, but it was only so long until the fractious relationship between himself and Burr exploded yet again anyway.
There is nothing to be done now. I can only hope Philip does not hold my father's poor treatment of his against me.
It took barely a second of that thought existing within her mind for her to realize with a smile, he would never do that. He cares too deeply to allow anything to come between us.
Burr,
Words cannot describe my absolute fury at your betrayal of the ideals we persued side by side for these past few months. Though why it caught me by surprise is a mystery - I should have expected as much from such a prevaricative creature as yourself. God, when I look at each and every way you have tricked me, my skin crawls with nothing short of disgust. Let's review, so you can appreciate just how talented you are at lying: Firstly, that clause, the root of your bank, grants you permission to use any additional funds for banking transactions, and your additional funds are certainly plentiful; I thought we'd raised too much for simply building a water system, and it emerges I was correct - you used just 5% of what we raised to construct the system, while the rest is used for endless loans! And that office, the one you claimed was to be used to manage the inner workings of the company, is in fact the building people rush to in order to deposit and withdraw their money. And worst of all, I tasted a single sip of the supposedly clean water you supply. Let me tell you, Sir, I would not recommend anyone try to stomach any more than that one mouthful I took, not even you. You have lied to me, and you have condemned some of your fellow New Yorkers to be stuck drinking water no cleaner than before. We had a chance to prevent another outbreak of waterborne diseases, yet you elected to nourish your own pocket instead. Mark my words, there will be more death as a result of your negligence to provide a genuinely safe water system, and there will be blood on your hands. There is nothing I can do now, is there? Of course not, you made sure I had no idea until it was too late. Well, I assure you, I will not quickly forget this, nor the countless times previously when you have lied and deceived to achieve your own selfish ambitions. I swear this is not the end of the matter, Sir.
Your obt.
A. Hamilton.