Burr's friends, knowing his phenomenal shrewdness in cloaking bargains and intrigues until the game was bagged, now relied upon him with confidence to bring victory out of the known discord and jealousy of his opponents, and for a time it looked as if he might succeed. Lansing's withdrawal and Hamilton's failure to put up Rufus King as he contemplated, gave Burr the support of Lansing's sympathy and a clear field among Federalists, except as modified by Hamilton's influence. In addition, his friends cited his ability and Revolutionary services, his liberal patronage of science and the arts, his distinguished and saintly ancestry, his freedom from family connections to quarter upon the public treasury, and his honest endeavour to free himself from debt by disposing of his estate. Especially in New York City did he meet with encouragement. His headquarters in John Street overflowed with ward workers and ward heelers, eager to elect the man upon whom they could rely for favours and with whom they doubtless sincerely sympathised. It was the contest of April, 1800, over again, save that Hamilton did not speak or openly oppose.

As the fight continued it increased in bitterness. Cheetham pounded Burr harder than ever, accusing him of seduction and of dancing with a buxom wench at a "nigger ball" given by one of his coloured servants at Richmond Hill. Jefferson was quoted as saying that Burr's party was not the real democracy, a statement that the American Citizen printed in capitals and kept standing during the three days of the election. With great earnestness Hamilton quietly warned the Federalists not to elevate a man who would use their party only to strengthen their opponents. In the up-counties, where the influence of the Clinton-Livingston-Spencer combine held the party together with cords of steel, every appointee, from judge of the Supreme Court to justice of the peace, was ranged on the side of Livingston's brother-in-law.

But Burr, too, had powerful abettors. In Orange and Dutchess he had always been a favourite; in Delaware, Erastus Root gave all his influence and all his gifts with the devotion that animated John Swartout and Marinus Willett in New York; in Ontario, Oliver Phelps, the great land speculator, endowed with an unconquerable energy and the strategy of a tactician, was backed by Peter B. Porter, the young and exceedingly popular clerk of that county, soon to be dismissed for his independence; in Albany, John Van Ness Yates, remembering Burr's support of his father's candidacy in 1789, also came to his assistance. Zealous and active, however, as these and other friends were, they were few and weak compared to the army of office-holders shouting and working for Morgan Lewis. When the returns, therefore, were in, although Burr carried New York by one hundred, he lost the State by over eight thousand.[142] A comparison of the vote with the senatorial returns of 1803 showed that for every Republican voting for Burr, a Federalist, influenced by Hamilton, voted for Lewis.

It was Burr's Waterloo. He had staked everything and lost. Bankrupt in purse, disowned by his party, and distrusted by a large faction of the leading Federalists, he was without hope of recovery so long as Hamilton blocked the way. There is no evidence that Burr ever saw Hamilton's confidential letters to Morris and other trusted Federal leaders, or knew their contents, but he did know that Hamilton bitterly opposed him, and that his influence was blighting. To get rid of him, therefore, Burr now seems to have deliberately determined to kill him.[143]

While in Albany in February to argue the Croswell case, Hamilton had dined with John Taylor, in company with Dr. Charles D. Cooper, who wrote a friend that, in the course of the dinner, Hamilton had declared, in substance, that he looked upon Burr as a dangerous man—one who ought not to be trusted with the reins of government. "I could detail to you," continued Cooper, "a still more despicable opinion which General Hamilton has expressed of Mr. Burr." This letter found its way into the newspapers, and in a note, dated June 18, 1804, Burr called Hamilton's attention to the words "more despicable," and added: "You must perceive, sir, the necessity of a prompt and unqualified acknowledgment or denial of the use of the expression which could warrant the assertions of Dr. Cooper."[144] This note, purposely offensive in its tone, was delivered by William P. Van Ness, a circumstance clearly indicating an intention to follow it with a challenge. Two days later, Hamilton replied, declining to make the acknowledgment or denial, since he could attach no meaning to the words used in the letter, nor could he consent to be interrogated as to the inferences drawn by third parties, but he was ready to avow or disavow any definite opinion with which he might be charged. "I trust on further reflection," concluded Hamilton, "you will see the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only regret the circumstances and must abide the consequences."[145]

Burr's answer, which plainly shows the rhetoric of "Aristides," was more offensive than his initial letter. After replying to it, Hamilton prepared a note to be informally communicated to Burr, in which he stated that if the latter chose to inquire into the purport of any conversation between himself and Dr. Cooper, he would be able to reply with truth that it turned wholly on political topics, and had no relation to Burr's private character, adding that he was ready to make an equally frank answer with regard to any other conversation which Burr would specify.[146] When Burr pronounced this honourable proposition "a mere evasion," his purpose was as evident as it became on June 27th, the day he sent the challenge.

Hamilton's acceptance of the challenge was inevitable. For a hundred years men have regretted and mourned that he did not dare to stand alone against duelling, as he had dared to stand alone for economic and patriotic principles against the clamour of mobs and the malice of enemies. But absurd and barbarous as was the custom, it flourished in Christian America, as it did in every other Christian country, in spite of Christian ethics; and it would not permit a proud, sensitive nature, jealous of his honour, especially of his military honour, to ignore it. Lorenzo Sabine's list of duellists includes a score of prominent Englishmen, Frenchmen and Americans, many of them contemporary with Hamilton, and some of them as profoundly admired, who succumbed to its tyranny. Proof of his valour at Monmouth and at Yorktown would no more placate the popular contempt and obloquy sure to follow an avoidance of its demands than would the victory at Waterloo have excused Wellington had he declined to challenge Lord Winchilsea. All this did not make duelling right, but it excuses a noble soul for yielding "to the force of an imperious custom," as Dr. Knott put it—a custom that still exists in France and Germany, and in some parts of America, perhaps, though now universally execrated by Christian people and pronounced murder by their laws. Even at that time Hamilton held it in abhorrence. In a paper drawn for publication in the event of death, he announced his intention of throwing away his fire, and in extenuation of yielding, he adds: "To those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duelling, may think that I ought on no account to have added to the number of bad examples, I answer that my relative situation, as well in public as in private, enforcing all the considerations which constitute what men of the world denominate honour, imposed on me, as I thought, a peculiar necessity not to decline the call. The ability to be in the future useful, whether in resisting mischief, or effecting good, in those crises of our public affairs which seem likely to happen, would probably be inseparable from a conformity with public prejudice in this particular."[147] The pathway of history is strewn with the wrecks of customs and superstitions which have held men in their grip, compelling obedience and demanding regularity; but no custom ever had a firmer hold upon gifted men than duelling, making them its devotees even when their intellects condemned it, their hearts recognised its cruelty, and their consciences pronounced it wrong.

Because of Hamilton's engagements in court, the hostile meeting was deferred until Wednesday, July 11th. In the meantime the principals went about their vocations with apparent indifference to the coming event. On the evening of July 4th, Hamilton and Burr attended the annual dinner of the Society of the Cincinnati, of which the former had succeeded Washington as president. The occasion was remembered as the gayest and most hilarious in the society's history. Hamilton leaped upon the table and sang "The Drum," an old camp song that became historic because of his frequent rendition of it. It was recalled afterward that Burr withdrew before the festivities had ended. On Saturday evening Hamilton dined Colonel Trumbull, one of Washington's first aides, and on Monday attended a reception given by Oliver Wolcott, John Adams' secretary of the treasury. Tuesday evening he prepared the paper already quoted, and addressed a letter to Theodore Sedgwick, one of Pickering's sternest conspirators, warning him against disunion. "Dismemberment of our empire," he said, "will be a clear sacrifice of great positive advantages, without any counterbalancing good; administering no relief to our real disease, which is democracy—the poison of which, by a subdivision, will only be the more concentred in each part, and consequently the more virulent."[148]

Meantime the secret had been confined to less than a dozen persons, and to none of Hamilton's intimate friends. Troup remained with him until a late hour Monday night without suspecting anything, the gaiety of his manner leading his friend to think his health was mending. Had Troup divined the hostile meeting, it might not have occurred. When John Swartout entered Burr's room at daylight on that fatal 11th of July, he found him sound asleep.

It was seven o'clock Wednesday morning, a hot July day, that Hamilton crossed the Hudson to Weehawken, with Pendleton, his second, and Dr. Hosack, Burr and Van Ness having preceded them. It took but a moment to measure ten paces, load the pistols, and place the principals in position. As the word was given, Burr took deliberate aim and fired. Instantly Hamilton reeled and fell forward headlong upon his face, involuntarily discharging his pistol. "This is a mortal wound, Doctor," he gasped, and immediately sank into a swoon. An examination showed that the ball had penetrated the right side. Burr, sheltered by Van Ness under an umbrella, hurried from the scene, while Hamilton, conveyed in his boat to the city, gradually recovered consciousness. "My vision is indistinct," he murmured; but soon after, catching sight of a pistol near him, cautioned them to take care of it. "It is undischarged and still cocked," he said; "it may go off and do harm. Pendleton knows I did not intend to fire at him." As the boat neared the wharf, he asked that Mrs. Hamilton be sent for. "Let the event be gradually broken to her," he said, "but give her hopes." Thus he lingered for thirty-one hours in great agony, but retaining his self-command to the last, and dying in the midst of his stricken family and sorrowing friends.