but when I called to him to have a cot prepared, and he at the same moment saw his poor friend lying in the bottom of the boat, he threw up his eyes and burst into a flood of tears and lamentation. Hamilton alone appeared tranquil and composed. He then conveyed him as tenderly as possible up to the house. The distresses of this amiable family were such that till the first shock was abated, they were scarcely able to summon fortitude enough to yield sufficient assistance to their dying friend.
Upon our reaching the house he became more languid, occasioned probably by the agitation of his removal from the boat. I gave him a little weak wine and water. When he recovered his feelings, he complained of pain in his back; we immediately undressed him, laid him in bed, and darkened the room. I then gave him a large anodyne, which I frequently repeated. During the first day he took upwards of an ounce of laudanum; and tepid anodyne fomentations were also applied to those parts nearest the seat of his pain. Yet were his sufferings, during the whole of the day, almost intolerable. I had not the shadow of a hope of his recovery, and Dr. Post, whom I requested might be sent for immediately on our reaching Mr. Bayard's house, united with me in this opinion. General Rey, the French Consul, also had the goodness to invite the surgeons of the French frigates in our harbour, as they had had much experience in gunshot wounds, to render their assistance. They immediately came; but to prevent his being disturbed, I stated to them his situation, described the nature of his wound and the direction of the ball, with all the symptoms that could enable them to form an opinion as to the event. One of the gentlemen then accompanied me to the bedside. The result was a confirmation of the opinion that had already been expressed by Dr. Post and myself.
During the night, he had some imperfect sleep; but the succeeding morning his symptoms were aggravated, attended however with a diminution of pain. His mind retained all its usual strength and composure. The great source of his anxiety seemed to be in his sympathy with his half distracted wife and children. He spoke to her frequently of them. "My beloved wife and children" were always his expressions. But his fortitude triumphed over his situation, dreadful as it was; once, indeed, at the sight of his children brought to the bedside together, seven in number, his utterance forsook him, he opened his eyes, gave them one look, and closed them again, till they were taken away. As a proof of his extraordinary composure of mind, let me add, that he alone could calm the frantic grief of their mother, "Remember, my Eliza, you are a Christian," were the expressions with which he frequently, with a firm voice, but in a pathetic and impressive manner, addressed her. His words, and the tone in which they were uttered, will never be effaced from my memory. At about two o'clock, as the public well know, he expired.
Incorrupta fides -- nudaque veritas
Quando ullum invenient parem?
Multis ille quidem flebilis occidit.
I am, Sir,
Your friend & humble serv't
DAVID HOSACK.
Wm. Coleman, Esq.
The house where Hamilton died belonged, at the time, to his friend William Bayard, and was situated at 80-82 Jane Street, but has long since disappeared, having gone the way of all the old buildings of New York; when last described it was a squalid tenement. It stood near the corner of Greenwich Street, and the garden is said to have extended to the North River. Hamilton died in a large, square room on the second floor of the building. Burr was landed at the foot of Canal Street, and hurried to his home at Richmond Hill, which was at the present crossing of Varick and Charlton Streets. A courier was immediately despatched for Mrs. Hamilton, who was at the Grange, quite oblivious of all that had occurred, and she was able to get to her husband's bedside at noon. Before Mr. Hamilton died she was joined by her children, my father being a baby of two years, who was kissed by his father, who recognized them all. With Mrs. Hamilton was her sister Angelica, who wrote to her brother Philip at once as follows:
AT MR. BAYARD'S, GREENWICH.
Wednesday Morning.
MY DEAR BROTHER: I have the painful task to inform you that Gen. Hamilton was this morning wounded by that wretch Burr, but we have every reason to hope that he will recover. May I advise that you repair immediately to my father, as perhaps he may wish to come down.
My dear sister bears with saintlike fortitude this affliction. The town is in consternation, and there exists only the expression of grief and indignation.
Adieu, my dear brother
Ever yours,
A. CHURCH
Oliver Wolcott, one of Hamilton's closest friends, who afterward did much to straighten out his affairs, wrote to his wife, both on the 11th and 13th of July, leaving the bedside of his dying friend for the purpose.
Oliver Wolcott to Mrs. Wolcott
I had prepared to set out to see you tomorrow morning, but an afflicting event has just occurred which renders it proper for me to postpone my journey a few days. This morning my friend Hamilton was wounded, and as is supposed mortally in a duel with Colo. Burr. The cause the old disagreement about Politicks.
I have just returned from Mr. Wm. Bayards -- where Hamilton is -- I did not see him -- he suffers great pain -- which he endures like a Hero -- Mrs. Hamilton is with him, but she is ignorant of the cause of his Illness, which she supposes to be spasms -- no one dare tell her the truth -- it is feared she would become frantic.
Gen' Hamilton has left his opinion, in writing, against Duelling, which he condemns as much as any man living -- he determined not to return the fire of his adversary -- and reasoned himself into a belief, that though the custom was in the highest degree criminal, yet there were peculiar reasons which rendered it proper for him, to expose himself to Col. Burr in particular. This instance of the derangement of intellect of a great mind, on a single point, has often been noticed as one of the most common yet unaccountable frailties of human nature.
Gen Hamilton has of late years expressed his conviction of the truths of the Christian Religion, and has desired to receive the Sacrament -- but no one of the Clergy who have yet been consulted will administer it.
Whilst there is life there is Hope, but that is all which can be said. Thus has perished one of the greatest men of this or any age. I am as well as could be expected, considering how my mind is agitated by this event & I will come to you as soon as the issue is decided.
Kiss the children and believe me
Affectionately yours,
OLIV. WOLCOTT.
P. S. Hamilton spent the afternoon & evening of Monday with our friends at my House in Company with Mr. Hopkinson of Phila. He was uncommonly cheerful and gay. The duel had been determined on for ten days. Monday was first proposed -- it was then postponed till Tuesday -- & took effect this Morning. Judge Pendleton was his second.
If Mr. King is at Litchfield tell him I have written to him at Hartford.
Mrs. Elizabeth Wolcott
Litchfield,
Connecticut.
And again:
Oliver Folcott to Mrs. Wolcott
Yesterday Gen1 Hamilton expired in the midst of his family, who are agonized beyond description. No person who witnessed their distress will ever be induced to fight a duel -- unless he is a person wholly insensible to every sentiment of humanity.
Nothing can present a more humiliating idea of the imperfection of human nature, than the scene we have witnessed. A man of the first endowments of mind, the most strict probity, the greatest sincerity, and the most tender attachments, has for a considerable time been deliberately settling his affairs, in contemplation of the event which has happened, as one highly probable -- he has left his family in perfect health, as if proceeding on ordinary business & with the same deliberation has recd a mortal wound -- thus proving his respect for justice in comparatively small matters, & at the same time disregarding its obligations on points of the first importance. This inconsistency has moreover happened in compliance with a custom, which he deemed wholly immoral & indefensible, by which he had lost a darling