It was winter in early 1801, and Peggy had been ill since 1799, getting worse during the winter. Her only comfort was her wealthy husband (Whom she had eloped with in 1783, and was six years her junior) and their only surviving child. She was too far away for her sisters to visit often.

One day there was a knock on the door. "Mrs. Van Rensselaer," a maid said, "you're brother-in-law is here."

Peggy thought about it. "Is it Alexander?"

"Yes."

Peggy thought about it. She didn't want to see him, but Eliza had generally forgiven him, and the whole scandal was dying down. "Send him in."

The maid nodded and fetched Alexander Hamilton. When he entered, he smiled and went to her bedside.

"Heard you were ill." He said.

"What are you doing here?" Peggy asked.

"Oh I had some legal business here, and since you live in the area, I thought I'd come by and visit."

"Where's Eliza?"

"At home with the kids."

"Is she feeling well?"

"Yes, although she would love to hear from you."

"I'm in no condition to write."

"I can write her for you."

"Really?"

"Of course, that's what family's for."

With a smile, Peggy replied, "Thank you Alex."

"You're welcome."

And so they chatted and wrote as if it were old times. When Alexander finally had to leave, Peggy said, "Can you stop by tomorrow?"

Smiling, Alexander replied, "I'll come by everyday while I'm here if you want."

Peggy thought about it, she did like his company, "Maybe longer?"

"Of course." Alexander smiled. He couldn't deny a dying woman.

And so he did. Everyday he came and kept the dying woman company, even when. Everyday he wrote to his wife about her sister's condition. Eliza desperately wanted to join him, but she couldn't find the means.

Finally, in mid-March, Alexander was forced to send the following dreadful letter:

On Saturday, my dear Eliza, your sister took leave of her sufferings and friends, I trust, to find repose and happiness in a better country.

Peggy was buried in the family plot in the Van Rensselaer estate, where she spent her final days.


Philip and his friend Stephen Price, who weren't the most sober, entered the box where the slightly older George Eacker sat watching The West Indian with his fiancee, Harriet Livingston, who was the daughter of Philip's relative Cornelia Schuyler. Just like Dolley and Martha said he would be. No not that Cornelia, and not that Dolley and Martha.

"George!" Philip called, but he was shushed. Full of pride, he couldn't ignore it. "George!"

George turned around, very annoyed, "Shh! I'm tryin' to watch the show!"

"Ya' shoulda watched your mouth before you talked about my father though!"

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true." George dismissively said, "Your father's a scoundrel, and so, it seems, are you. You dammed rascals."

My dears, the term "rascal" had a different meaning in 1801. Back then, it meant you were calling someone a rogueish villain, which was very bad back then. It's like calling someone - something I can't say in front of young ears. A scoundrel, my dears, is someone with absolutely no honor.

Offended, as would be expected, "It's like that?"

"Yeah, I don't fool around." George replied, "I'm not your little schoolboy friends."

"See you on the dueling ground." Philip replied, "That is, unless you wanna step outside and go now."

George was very dismissive of the two young men. "I know where to find you, piss off, I'm watching this show now."

What followed was a great disturbance, where George managed to insult and accept duels with both Stephen and Philip.

OOO

Philip left his father's study, carrying the guns his father gave him. The very guns his Uncle John Church used in a duel against Arron Burr in 1799. No one was injured. I suppose it's ironic, or foreshadowing, but I don't want to speculate right now.

"Philip?" Angie's voice rang in his ears.

Philip turned to see his sister facing him with a worried expression. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it." Angie replied. She grabbed his hands, "Please don't go!"

"Angie," Philip replied, "I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yesterday when Eacker dueled Stephen, they both missed. So-"

"Don't press your luck." Angie begged, "Please don't go. I need you!"

Philip caressed her face, "Everything will be alright. I'll be fine. Everyone's nervous before a duel. If he shoots, he might miss."

"Or not. He could kill you, or leave you crippled."

"Well I'll still be alive during the latter." He kissed her forehead, "I'm nervous too, but things are sure to work out."

"Can I come with you?" Angie asked.

"A duel's no…" Philip began, but knowing her brother, Angie smacked his arm.

"Women can duel!" Angie exclaimed.

"Ow!"

Angie calmed down, "Sorry. What I was planning, was I could stop this without you being called a coward."

"How… you're going to beg on your knees, aren't you?"

"It worked for Queen Isabella of England when the nobles rebelled against Edward II." Angie protested.

"That was then. This is now." Philip told him.

"I'm going with you." Angie said full of determination.

"No." Philip said, "I don't want you to see if one of us gets shot." He then kissed her again, and left.

Angie, not one to take 'no' for an answer, hurried after him, making sure she wasn't seen. She arrived just in time to see her dearest sibling get shot and fall to the ground rather calmly.

Philip Church, Angelica's oldest son, as you might recall, was Philip Hamilton's 2nd, (and his Uncle Alex's Aide-de-camp during the quasi-war with France. Yes we went to fake war with France) grabbed his cousin and raced him to his mother's house which was across the river.


Alexander burst into Angelica's house, "Where is my son?" He desperately asked.

Dr. Hosack, who was treating the boy, calmly told him, "Mr. Hamilton, come in, they brought him in a half an hour ago. He lost a lot of blood on the way over."

"Is he alive?" Alexander desperately asked.

"Yes, but you have to understand, the bullet entered just above his hip and lodged in his right arm—"

"Can I see him, please?" Alexander begged.

The doctor nodded, "I'm doing everything I can but the wound was already infected when he arrived."

Alexander rushed to the bedside, "Philip."

"Pa!" Philip said as his father held him, "I did exactly as you said, Pa. I held my head up high."

"I know, I know, shh." Alexander shushed as he stroked his son's hair, "I know, I know, shh."

"High." Philip said as he tried to get up.

Alexander brought him back down. "I know you did everything just right, shh."

"Even before we got to ten," Philip began, but his father tried to shush him. "I was aiming for the sky." He held his hand up, "I was aiming for the sky."

"I know, save your strength and stay alive!" Alexander told him.

"NO!" Eliza screamed as she entered the doorway.

"Eliza!" Alexander wasn't expecting her.

"Is he breathing, is he going to survive this?" Eliza cried as she rushed to the bedside. "Who did this, Alexander, did you know?"

"Mom, I'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me." Philip said, trying to calm things down.

"My son." Eliza said as she grabbed his hands and held them close to her chest.

"We played piano." Philip remininced.

"I taught you piano."

"You would put your hands on mine."

"You changed the melody every time."

"Ha.I would always change the line."

"Shh, I know, I know."

"I would always change the line."

"I know, I know." Eliza shushed, then she started their old French lessons, which Philip joined, but didn't finish.

Upon realizing Philip was dead, Eliza let out a blood-curdling scream, and Angie, who was by the bedside, broke down.


In reality, took a full day for Philip to die. During that time, his parents stayed by his side, and the family got to say their goodbyes.

Philip's last words to Angie, I imagine, were him telling her to be strong while she begged him not to leave her.

William and Ellie were too young to know what was going on, but they knew something was wrong with their brother. They tried to comfort him, but they were young.

Eliza was too distraught to attend the funeral, but she made herself go, and relied heavily on her surviving sisters and Caroline for support.

Alexander felt empty inside. My dears, I hope you never have to feel the agonizing pain of loosing a child.

Angie, who had been the spitting image of her namesake in appearance, intellect, wit and behavior, was the most changed. It took all the family had to keep her from joining her brother in his coffin and grave.

To ease the grief, the Hamiltons moved uptown, in a house built just for them. Eliza barely did anything, too filled with grief. Angelica and Caroline made frequent visits to comfort her.

Alexander, although more grieved then he had ever been, devoted himself to caring for the children. Eliza was in no state to do it herself, and poor Angie, she was the closet to Philip. Alexander did everything he could for her, he doted on her, gave her watermelon and parrots, played songs on the piano with her and sang duets with her.

Alas, it was not enough. Despite the efforts of everyone, Angie got worse. The once intelligent and witty 17-year-old, slowly became a large child. Forever haunted by her brother, whom she refused to believe was dead.

Alexander took to taking walks by himself, and enjoying the quiet. He even went to church and prayed, something he hadn't done in years. He spent hours in the garden, either by himself, or with his children. His hair had even gone gray.

One day, while in the garden, Alexander saw his wife on a stroll. He approached her. "Look at where we are. Look at where we started. I know I don't deserve you Eliza. But hear me out, that would be enough."

Eliza said nothing, but looked at him.

"If I could spare his life, if I could trade his life for mine, he'd be standing here right now and you would smile, and that would be enough."

Eliza looked away, and stared at the plants. He was using her words against her again.

"I don't pretend to know, the challenges we're facing. I know there's no replacing what we've lost and you need time. But I'm not afraid. I know who I married. Just let me stay here by your side. That would be enough."

With a sigh, Eliza let herself be comforted by him again. She joined him on his walks, but didn't say much. They would walk in the park, long after dark. Although they were still friends, Eliza refused him to enter their bed. Although, the older children had to remark that the two were closer than they were before.

One day, while standing in the garden, Eliza took her husband's hand. "It's quiet uptown."

Alexander was shook. She hadn't held his hand privately in years. He looked at her. Her face was full of forgiveness.

Alexander teared up, and soon Eliza did too. They embraced each other, and held each other tight. When they finally let go, Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out Eliza's wedding ring.

Eliza smiled and nodded. "He kept that? After all these years?"

Alexander smiled and put the ring on her left ring finger, just as he had on their wedding day.


Foiled, again. Whenever Burr ran for something, Hamilton just had to get in the way. Weather he was running for Senate, the Presidency, or Governor. Oh yeah, they don't talk about it in the musical, but while Vice President, Burr ran for Governor of New York. Hamilton intervened and made him lose.

The final straw came when someone told Burr that they heard Hamilton comment on Burr's closeness with his daughter. Which of course made him mad. Being the kind of person he was, he sent his old friend a letter:

Dear Alexander:

I am slow to anger, but I toe the line, as I reckon with the effects of your life on mine. I look back on where I failed, and in every place I checked, the only common thread has been your disrespect. I submit for your immediate perusal, A letter from a Doctor Charles Cooper, who was kind enough to give me his approval to reprint a letter that he sent in confidence. He claims that on numerous occasions, you have called me "a dangerous man". Furthermore I "ought not be trusted with the reins of government". Obviously such an accusation must be met with either an immediate acknowledgement or disavowal. Now! Are you capable of such a thing?

Now you call me amoral, a dangerous disgrace. If you've got something to say, name a time and place, face-to-face.

I have the honor to be your obedient servant
A. Burr

Hamilton replied:

Mr. Vice President:

I've reflected on the letter I received from you, on the afternoon of June 18th. And I'm afraid that I cannot provide you with the kind of answer that you're looking for. The phrase "numerous occasions" in place of actual situations, conveys infinite shades, it's way too vague a phrase to pin to serious allegations.

"What?" Burr thought when he read that part.

Listen now; how am I to disavow something so unspecific? "Dangerous with the reigns of government," wow; surely I said something less banal, be realistic now. I am not the reason no one trusts you, no one knows what you believe. I will not equivocate on my opinion, I have always worn it on my sleeve. Even if I said what you think I said, you would need to cite a more specific grievance. Here's an itemized list of thirty years of disagreements:

"Sweet Jesus." Burr sighed when he read that line. "I sent him a few paragraphs, and he sent me a novel."

Hey, I have not been shy, I am just a guy in the public eye tryin' to do my best for our republic. I don't wanna fight, But I won't apologize for doing what's right.

I have the honor to be Your Obedient Servant
A. Ham

Burr, angry, replied:

Careful how you proceed, good man. Intemperate indeed, good man. Answer for the accusations I lay at your feet or Prepare to bleed, good man.

Alexander's response:

Burr, your grievance is legitimate. I stand by what I said, every bit of it. You stand only for yourself, it's what you do! I can't apologize because it's true! Sorry if your life is difficult without your wife, You'll have to be more specific though.

Angered, Burr told replied:

How's this for specific, Alexander? Weehawken. Dawn. Guns. Drawn.

Alexander wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want to be a coward, but he also didn't want to make his wife a widow, and his children father-less so young. But eventually he decided. You're on. He wrote.


John Hamilton was sitting in his room reading a book, it was the day before his father would duel Aaron Burr. At a slight noise, he turned around and saw his father in the doorway, standing silently there and looking at me with a most sweet and beautiful expression of countenance. It was full of tenderness, and without any of the business pre-occupation he sometimes had.

"John," he said, "won't you come and sleep with me tonight?" His voice was frank as if he were his brother instead of his father.

"Ok." John answered. That night he went to his father's bed, and in the very early morning, he was awakened.

Alexander took his son's hands in his palms, and extended them. "Let us pray the Lord's Prayer."

Although it was early, John didn't object. And 75 years later, that moment, and the invitation, would still be as clear as day.


It was the night before the duel. Alexander was busy writing two notes. One for his wife, and the other for the world.

The one for the world read:

My wife and Children are extremely dear to me, and my life is of the utmost importance to them. I am conscious of no ill-will to Col Burr. I have resolved…to reserve and throw away my first fire, and I have thoughts even of reserving my second fire—and thus giving a double opportunity to Col Burr to pause and to reflect.

The one for his wife read:

This letter, my very dear Eliza, will not be delivered to you, unless I shall first have terminated my earthly career; to begin, as I humbly hope from redeeming grace and divine mercy, a happy immortality.
If it had been possible for me to have avoided the interview, my love for you and my precious children would have been alone a decisive motive. But it was not possible, without sacrifices which would have rendered me unworthy of your esteem. I need not tell you of the pangs I feel, from the idea of quitting you and exposing you to the anguish which I know you would feel. Nor could I dwell on the topic lest it should unman me.
The consolations of Religion, my beloved, can alone support you; and these you have a right to enjoy. Fly to the bosom of your God and be comforted. With my last idea; I shall cherish the sweet hope of meeting you in a better world.
Adieu best of wives and best of Women. Embrace all my darling Children for me.
Ever yours.

A H

While he was writing, Eliza, realizing her husband wasn't in bed and John was in his place, had gone searching for him. Knowing him well, she checked his office. She found him there. "Alexander come back to sleep." She said while standing in the doorway.

He turned to face her. "I have an early meeting out of town."

"It's still dark outside." She said as she approached him.

"I know. I just have to write something down."

Eliza wrapped her arms around him, like she usually did when she wanted to get him to sleep when he was working non-stop. "Why do you write like you're running out of time?"

Alexander leaned into his wife and made a shushing noise.

"Come back to bed, that would be enough."

Alexander grabbed her hands with his free one, "I'll be back before you know I'm gone."

"Come back to sleep."

"The meeting's at dawn."

"Well I'm going back to sleep." Eliza said as she unwrapped her arms. As she was leaving, Alexander grabbed her hand.

"Hey." Eliza turned to face him, "Best of wives, and best of women." He then kissed her hand goodnight.


They rode across the Hudson River at dawn. Burr's 2nd was his friend William P. Van Ness. Hamilton arrived with his 2nd, Judge Nathaniel Pendleton, and a Dr. David Hosack. As you may recall, my dears, Dr. Hosack was the doctor who treated Philip.

Alexander examined the terrain, he shook as he realized he was in the same spot where his oldest son died. He drew first position, and looked east as he loaded his gun. He looked like a man on a mission. The sun was in his eyes, he felt giddy as he watched it slowly rise over his New York City.

Dr. Hosack turned around so he could have deniability.

Alexander examined his gun with rigor and fiddled with the trigger. That was his brother-in-law's gun, the one Philip barrowed to duel Eacker. Philip, although he was described as a rake, wasn't a killer.

Both were good marksmen, but Burr was still nervous.

Hamilton put on his glasses so he could see if Burr was softening, and to make sure he didn't hit him. But Burr thought Hamilton was trying to take deadly aim, and glared at him.

Burr thought of his daughter, whom he had promised, as you may recall my dears, to always be there for her. She had married a wealthy man named Joseph Alston the year Philip died, and they had a son the year after, whom she named after her father. The last thing he wanted was to make his precious, beloved daughter, who's health had become fragile after giving birth, an orphan.

Hamilton reflected on his life, and what he knew about Burr. The man had always hated dueling, when he dueled Alexander's brother-in-law, he was eager to end it. Burr hated confrontation, and had an instinct for self-preservation. Something Alexander wanted.

A sense of calm fill Alexander. It wasn't in Burr's political interest to kill him.

As the paces were counted, Burr was full of rage. He looked at Hamilton's eyes, and remembered the rules of dueling.

Hamilton had imagined death so much it felt more like a memory, he felt like this would be it. He thought about how his relationship with Burr had deteriorated, on what a legacy was, and what his would be. On how his life played out. He saw ghosts of his dead family members, both biological and found. His last thoughts were of his beloved wife, whom he wished a long and happy life. He wasn't sure if he would get back home in time, but he wouldn't kill Burr.

Alexander raised his pistol towards the sky, and got shot in the ribs.

Burr, coming to his senses, walked towards his friend, full of regret. But his friends ushered him away, wanting him to flee.

Burr did flee, and got a drink. Hamilton was taken back to New York.

There was wailing in the streets, the people hadn't been as distraught since Washington died of bad doctors who didn't know what they were doing. Yes it happened, even at the time people thought that the doctors were incompetent.

Burr was told to hide, as dueling was illegal and he was facing a murder charge.

Alexander was taken to the house of wealthy merchant William Bayard, and was surrounded by friends and family, who all wanted to give their goodbyes. Even Caroline and Bertie were by his side, both having fully forgiven him.

Eliza remained by her husband's side throughout it all, doing her best to comfort him. Angelica meanwhile, was inconsolable and weeping her heart out. She was also by his side during his final moments.

After saying his final words, he saw his mother, his son, his lover and his mentor smiling at him. He smiled, and joined them.