
feud1 (fy›d)
n. 1. A bitter, often prolonged quarrel or state of enmity,
especially such a state of hostilities between two families or clans.
Admit it—the word alone can bring a delightful rush of warm tingles. We love
watching enormous egos clash and two people ripping each other to shreds. Although some of us like to deny
it, it is human nature.
Often
feuds are the centerpiece that shapes our plots. The opposition between our characters is what motivates
them into action. Our fiction wouldn’t be the same without feuding friends, clans or lovers.
Feuds have been ongoing
for centuries. The history books are littered with stories. And most of the brawls were fought literally
to the death. They’re a much better read than any contemporary tabloid. But during
the American Revolutionary period, a new nation was being forged and it was definitely not a time for the faint-hearted.
Take Burr vs. Hamilton
for instance. What drove these two men to meet on the New Jersey shores early on the morning of July 11,
1804 and draw pistols upon each other?
It all began in 1791. Alexander Hamilton’s father-in-law, General Schuyler, was ousted from the post
of New York senator. The position was then offered to Aaron Burr. Hamilton thought Burr
had staged the coup and he never forgave him. There had long been an unspoken hostility between the two
men. However, after this instance, whatever enmity they shared broke into open warfare.
Then in 1793—Burr’s senatorial career was
lackluster. Hated by Hamilton, Hamilton enlisted all manner of unlikely allies. Hamilton
soared and Burr suffered a jolting setback.
1794—Burr’s wife died, shaking him to the marrow. He drew closer to his
daughter (same name as his wife) and became a horrible philanderer. Hamilton reached the pinnacle of his
power and influence.
1795—mounting
debts forced Hamilton to resign from the Treasury Dept. and resume his law practice. The power he so carefully
pursued, waned.
1796—Hamilton’s
influence declined, while Burr made the transition from local to national figure.
1797—Allegations were made against Hamilton that while he was treasury secretary (summer of 1791)
he had colluded with a financial schemer in a string of highly dubious business ventures. Hamilton denied
all claims as false. In fact, he claimed his real crime was an amorous affair with the man’s wife—with
his connivance—brought on by a combination between the husband and wife with the design to extort money from him.
Hamilton paid
the man $1,000 to keep the affair quiet. After much reflection on the matter, he believed he had fallen
victim to a trap laid by the abominable Aaron Burr. Discretion demanded that he not broadcast his suspicion
on the matter, so for years he kept his shameful secret buried within. Hamilton’s quick admission
to adultery, but not to professional misconduct allowed him to emerge from the unsavory episode with his reputation in tact.
1799—Burr’s
financial dealings also came under the microscope. Burr challenged a businessman with whom he had dealings
to a duel. The two men met on the NJ side of the Hudson on the morning of September 2. Shots
were fired, but the ball from Burr’s opponent's pistol only passed through Burr’s sleeve. No
harm, no foul and honor was duly settled.
1800—Burr tied Jefferson for President. The decision of the next president
now lay in the hands of the House of Representatives. Alexander Hamilton organized cabals, whispered in
ears, wrote scorching letters, anything to destroy his nemesis. After many votes, Jefferson was voted the
third President. Burr automatically assumed the rank of VP.
He came within a hair-breadth of attaining full power only to have it snatched away by one man—by
his tormentor—Alexander Hamilton. Nothing could stop them from their course now.
1804—July 11, Weehawken, New Jersey side of the
Hudson. Both parties took aim & fired in succession, the intervening time is not expressed, as the seconds do not precisely
agree on that point. The pistols discharged within a few seconds of each other and General Hamilton almost
instantly fell.
Colonel
Burr then advanced toward General Hamilton with a manner and gesture that appeared to General Hamilton’s friend to be
expressive of regret, but without speaking turned about and withdrew . . .
Aaron Burr outlived Hamilton by 32 years.