Hamilton’s political excesses and personal recklessness came to a head when he became entangled in an affair of honor with Aaron Burr. The two had known each other for decades; meeting during the war, mingling with the same friends, attending the same parties, even acting as co-counsel in court. As Hamilton had admitted in 1800, they liked each other personally. But politically, they clashed time and again.
In 1804, their ongoing rivalry reached its fatal culmination. Burr’s political career was foundering. Denied the possibility of a second term as vice-president by Jefferson, he had run for Governor of New York and lost. Eager to redeem his name and prove himself a leader worth following, he took notice when someone put a newspaper clipping in his hand reporting that at a dinner, Hamilton had claimed that Burr was unfit to hold the reins of government, and then said something “still more despicable” that the writer refused to put on paper. As Burr well knew, risking one’s life for one’s reputation in an affair of honor was considered a powerful display of leadership.
With this in mind, Burr seized at the word “despicable” and demanded an explanation, sending Hamilton the opening letter of a formal affair of honor (June 18, 1804). Hamilton’s response (June 20, 1804) was an unfortunate blend of hedging and bravado; he debated the meaning of the word “despicable” and then declared himself responsible for anything he had said. Outraged at Hamilton’s tone and grammar lesson, Burr accused him (June 21, 1804) of not behaving like a gentleman, an insult that Hamilton couldn’t ignore (June 22, 1804). For ten days, the two men negotiated through their seconds, hoping to find a way out of the tangle, until Burr—desperate to redeem his name—did what many grievously insulted gentlemen did during affairs of honor: he demanded an impossible apology to force his opponent to fight. When Burr asked Hamilton to apologize for every insult offered during their fifteen-year rivalry (June 22, 1804), Hamilton refused (Response to a Letter from William P. Van Ness, June 28, 1804), and their duel was on.
Once the duel was agreed to, Hamilton struggled to put his affairs in order in case of his death. He wrote a financial statement (July 1, 1804) admitting that he was deeply in debt. He wrote not one but two farewell letters to Elizabeth (July 4 and 10, 1804). And remarkably, the night before the duel, he explained why he felt compelled to fight (Statement Regarding the Duel with Burr, c. July 10, 1804).
The next day, Hamilton rose at dawn and was rowed across the Hudson River to a dueling ground in Weehawken, New Jersey. Burr’s shot pierced Hamilton’s liver and lodged in his spine. Hamilton died the next day, surrounded by family and friends.