Ten Paces

It was July 1804. The Hudson River, separating the wilderness of New Jersey from the bustling little city of New York, gleamed with the reflections of the morning sun. At 6:00 AM,  all was peaceful and quiet on the woodsy Jersey side of the river, except for a small rowboat approaching the shore, carrying 5 men.

Two of the men were rowing the boat, getting paid for a special job requiring that they say nothing of it later on. Also in the boat was a doctor, nervous, hoping that his services would not be needed in the next few minutes.

The key figure in the boat was a celebrity, a household word, to many people a national hero. He was 49 years old, had served nobly in the Revolutionary War, had served as Secretary of the Treasury under President George Washington, and had singlehandedly established the U S Treasury. Centuries later his image would be on every ten-dollar bill in the United States.

But if Alexander Hamilton was a hero to many, he was hated by some, especially by powerful people, and this was why he sat in this rowboat, secretly en route to a most fateful encounter.

The 5^th person in the boat was a young well-dressed man named Pendleton, who would serve as Mr. Hamilton’s assistant in the upcoming altercation. Pendleton, and the doctor, and Hamilton stepped off the boat as it hit the shore. The rowers waited behind, apprehensive with what was to follow, what would come back from the woods.

Waiting in the woods for Hamilton was the Vice President of the United States of America. Now in his fourth and final year as Vice-President, Aaron Burr had recently been defeated in the New York State Gubernatorial Election. Hamilton was instrumental in this crushing defeat, having used all his political influence against Burr.
　
And now, Vice President Aaron Burr and Former Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton would settle matters with dueling pistols. Burr had issued the challenge, and Hamilton was compelled to accept, as a matter of honor.

Actually the final impetus for the duel was some derogatory remarks made by Hamilton about Burr, at a cocktail party. The remarks got back to Burr, who demanded an apology and retraction. Hamilton tried to wrangle out of the situation by sending letters to Burr, lecturing him on the various meanings of the word “despicable”, without apologizing. Burr quickly got tired of this and issued the challenge to a duel. Many historians say the whole thing could have been avoided.

At this time in history, thoughtful American people were trying to end the practice of dueling, since in some cases it was little different from murder. New York State had outlawed it, thus Hamilton and Burr had quietly gone over to New Jersey, where the penalties for dueling were much less severe. But such a deadly encounter between these two famous Americans would not be kept secret for long, especially if one of the .56 caliber balls found its mark.

In a clearing in the woods, a handsome hand-carved box was presented, containing two identical pistols, manufactured for the specific purpose of dueling. They were inspected, approved, and loaded, and within a minute the two combatants stood facing each other at a distance of ten paces. One of the officials shouted the word “present”, at which point both men were free to fire whenever they wanted.

To circumvent the law, all of the non-combatants deliberately looked away at the crucial moment, so that they could safely say that they hadn’t “seen” the shooting.

Years later, they would only be able to say that they heard two shots. Hamilton’s shot went wide and high, hitting a tree branch many feet away from Burr. Hamilton’s two companions thought it highly likely that Hamilton had fired first, deliberately missing, and inviting Burr to do the same. In some duels this led to a “satisfaction of the honor” of the offended person, and an end to hostilities.

However Burr was a ruthlessly ambitious man, with an opportunity to end Hamilton’s blockade of his career. Burr’s aim was true, and when the smoke cleared Hamilton lay mortally wounded, bleeding from the abdomen, with the doctor helpless to save him. He was carried back to the boat, and rushed back across the river to his house in New York City, where he would die the next day.

It was a sudden and improbable end for a man who had survived earlier war experience, who continued to be involved in the shaping of this young and exciting nation, who had a flourishing New York City law practice, who had a beloved wife and 7 children. In short, it didn’t make sense that he took such a chance with Burr.

For all his high position, political savvy, and ambition, Burr committed political suicide when he fired at Hamilton. He miscalculated public reaction. News of the fatal duel spread far and wide, and the nation officially mourned. Both New York State and New Jersey filed criminal charges.

However Burr never went on trial, and in early 1805 he finished his term as Vice President. His political life in ruins, he went out West, and concocted some remarkable and unsuccessful plans to attain power out there, in one case trying to be the “monarch” of a large section of Northern Mexico.

The Hamilton-Burr duel was stunning at the time, because of the fame of the two men. Yet illegal dueling continued, in secret places, despite the efforts of legislators, and religious and civic groups. It was especially strong down South, where the Code of Chivalry and Honor allowed a person to defend any perceived slight to his honor, no matter how mismatched the opponents.

All 50 states have anti-dueling regulations now, and I don‘t feel the need for weekly target practice. But there will always be challenges and fights among men, as long as there’s power, women, money, honor, and self-respect at stake. It’s testosterone, it’s human nature, it’s inevitable, and perhaps I’ll ponder this whenever I have a few seconds to stare at a ten-dollar bill.