May 2nd, 1804

I detest that horrid Alexander Hamilton. For years, he has disgraced my honor and my pride.
Repeatedly he has found it within himself to block off my opportunities for success and good fortune. It
all started around a score ago when I ousted his father-in-law in an election for a position on the U.S.
Senate. I won fair-and-square, but the jealousy of his father-in-law must have been passed down a
generation as Hamilton has despised me ever since.
I soon tried to move up in the political world, journeying with the honorable presidential
candidate Thomas Jefferson as his second-in-command under the Democratic-Republican ticket. Of
course, Hamilton performed such blasphemy as to publicly attack me and ruin my reputation. As a direct
result, the much hated and resented rat known as John Adams won the election. In disgust, I vacated my
position of Senator that I stole from that conniving, insolent maggots father-in-law as a way of rubbing
salt in the wound before rejoining the New York Assembly.
In the next presidential election, Jefferson chose me as his running mate once again. This time, I
attacked Hamilton first. I published an article Hamilton had written criticizing his fellow Federalist and
previous president John Adams. Jefferson and I easily won the election, but there was a tie between us
for who would become president and vice-president. The vote then went to the House. At the House of
Representatives, we again had a tie. It seemed that the deadlock would not be broken, but Hamilton used
his influence to cause some of his Federalists to change sides. Jefferson and I soon grew apart. At the
next election, I was backed by a group to win the Federalist nomination. Hamilton and his allies then
performed an attack on my character to prevent this from happening. This is the last time I will let these
acts of tyranny stand. I am challenging him to a duel of honor next time we meet face-to-face.
There will be blood to pay,
Aaron Burr

July 11th, 1804

Today was our duel. We rowed from Manhattan across the Hudson River to a spot known as the
Heights of Weehawken in New Jersey. We agreed upon this location beforehand because it was in New
Jersey, whose laws regarding dueling were more lenient than New Yorks in case something would
happen and others were to find out. It seemed a little ironic, really, that Hamilton agreed to this spot, as
his own son died at an earlier date defending his fathers honor. It was an omen for what was to come.
It seemed that Hamilton did not believe my resolve and sincerity and thought we could resolve
this affair of honor peaceably. Ha! This man, this putrid emptiness of humanity that carries so much
hatred and malice towards me, this thing who has ruined my life countless times only to leave me
bewildered while I thought about what went wrong, thinks we could solve this matter with peace?! I
scoff at the idea. He has taken this way too far to go back to peace. Maybe he had ended affairs of
honor with peace before, but the men who he had had to face were not persistently mocked and made
fun of. Peace was not an option. I would not be satisfied without bloodshed.
He tried to reason with me. He explained that we should forget what has happened and try to
begin anew. Never. He had sent my letters before, asking for forgiveness. The weapon of choice was a
pistol, and we agreed to fire a single shot at one another. Hamilton must have thought that we were both
going to purposefully shoot at the ground, as was the custom in those times, to show courage and
willingness to risk ones life. In those moments where we drew our weapons upon each other, I actually
considered sparing him. That all changed when he fired at me and I could feel the bullet speed by. I
interpreted that shot as a threat and felt completely justified when I shot at and hit Hamilton. He died,
the bullet going through his stomach and lodging itself next to his spine.
Vindicta est,
Aaron Burr

November 3rd, 1804

Today I appeared at a court trial in Bergen County, New Jersey for the murder of Alexander
Hamilton. They indicted me for the crime. I could not believe it. I had killed him under the honorable
rules of a duel, a circumstance where I was rightfully allowed to take the life of another, and yet, I was
being accused of murder. It seemed that Hamiltons resentment haunted me even from his grave.
As I am writing this, I plan to flee to Saint Simons Island, Georgia. I need some time to consider
my next move. Likely, I will eventually go back to Washington, D.C., to finish out my term as vicepresident under immunity from prosecution. What I fear most is the backlash from his supporters, as
many were under the illusion that Hamilton was a good person. Now yes, he has done some good for
this country, but his incessant bullying of me can only come from such a man who enjoys causing and
watching the suffering of others.
Ive had many a day to contemplate the actions that want down on July 11th. Was it right for me
to take the life of another? I had to. He ruined my career, my livelihood, everything I worked hard for. It
was not fair. When does a man have the right to do such a thing to another? I may have taken Hamiltons
life, but he took mine many years ago. In order to seek redemption, Hamilton could not have been in the
picture. We were like water and oil, impossible to coexist on this earth. If the morning mist had not
impaired my view that day, I would have shot him in the heart.
Yes, that would have been beautiful. To watch him slowly cower to the ground, blood spilling
from his open wound, gasping for breath. Oh, the joy that would have given me. Seeing his gravestone
implanted into the ground eternally was satisfactory enough.
Rest in peace my rival,
Aaron Burr