How to Settle the Character Question

On the morning of July 11, 1804, Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr stood opposite each other on the heights of Weehawken, New Jersey, each with a pistol in hand, waiting for the command to fire. Hamilton, whose own son had died in a duel, was "strongly opposed" to the illegal practice, and, while Burr was sure his rival had privately attacked his character, his only hard evidence of an insult was a letter writer’s vague reference in an Albany newspaper to a "despicable opinion" about Burr that Hamilton had uttered. Why, then, were the two men dueling? Emotional excess has been historians’ usual answer: Hamilton was suicidal and Burr malicious and murderous. Freeman, a Ph.D. candidate in history at the University of Virginia, argues that there was a great deal more to it than that.

In this era before full-fledged national political parties, she observes, a politician’s personal honor was perhaps his most precious political asset. Duels "were intricate games of dare and counter-dare, ritualized displays of bravery, military prowess, and, above all, willingness to sacrifice one’s life for one’s honor." From the first "notice" of an insult to the final acknowledgment of "satisfaction" (which might be weeks or even months later), politicians considered themselves engaged in an affair of honor. The ritualized negotiations were an integral part of the duel. Often, shots were never fired.

These contests, Freeman says, "did not result from a sudden flare of temper; politicians timed them strategically, sometimes provoked them deliberately. Often, the two seconds published conflicting newspaper accounts of a duel, each man boasting of his principal’s bravery and mocking his opponent’s cowardice. Fought to influence a broad public, synchronized with events of the political timetable, political duels conveyed carefully scripted political messages."

Hamilton (who had served as treasury secretary under President George Washington) looked upon Burr as a dangerous man. One was a Federalist, the other a Democratic-Republican, but their differences ran deeper. When the presidential election of 1800 was thrown into the House of Representatives, Hamilton managed to tip the balance to Thomas Jefferson, whom he merely hated, rather than see victory go to Burr, whom he despised. When Burr ran for governor of New York, Hamilton worked against him, and did indeed privately make "extremely severe" attacks on Burr’s character. Six weeks after his humiliating defeat, Burr wrote to Hamilton about the letter in the Albany newspaper, demanding an explanation. If Hamilton again apologized (as he had twice before for remarks about Burr), Burr could brand him a coward. Either an apology or a duel would let Burr keep the support of his followers.

When Hamilton pointed out the inquiry’s vagueness, Burr forced the issue by demanding an apology for any derogatory rumors that any remarks by Hamilton might have inspired during their long rivalry. Refusing, Hamilton accepted Burr’s challenge, thus complying with what he called the "public prejudice" regarding honor and preserving his "ability to be in future useful" in public affairs. At the same time, however, he resolved to adhere to his principles and withhold his fire in the field. Though Hamilton was mortally wounded in the duel, Freeman writes, Burr lost the subsequent battle for public approval. He became "a failed duelist."

__"Dueling as Politics: Reinterpreting the Burr-Hamilton Duel" by Joanne B. Freeman, in _The William and Mary Quarterly_ (Apr. 1996), Box 8781, Williamsburg, Va. 23187-8781.__

This article originally appeared in print

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