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1776, New York City
Alexander Hamilton pulled his coat closer around him and hurried along the path. It was cold.
Or maybe it wasn't. He had grown up in the West Indies, after all. And even though he'd been here for almost three years, he still was yet to grow wholly accustomed to such a different climate.
But he loved the winter months. The way the snow fell, the way it accumulated by the roads, the way the lakes would freeze. He had never imagined he'd see anything like this.
It seemed to represent the change that had happened in his life.
Five years ago, he had been fighting to simply live day-to-day; bookkeeping for his mother's landlord after she'd passed.
And now he was here, in the colonies. That was beyond all comprehension for him. He had wanted nothing more than to rise above his station, and was willing to risk anything, including his life, if that's what it took, to do so.
But getting from the Caribbean to America wasn't an option for a penniless orphan like him. Not by himself. That wasn't the case for everyone; his friend had done it - left Nevis behind for New York and his dream to be a doctor.
Maybe he would see Neddy again one day.
At least he was back across the river. This was his place. New York was where he belonged. New Jersey was too wild, too rough. It made him think of what he was now. New York was what he wanted to be.
And if ever saw the College of New Jersey again it would be too soon.
He probably should have kept his temper in check, he knew that. But he hadn't been able to stop himself. The College of New Jersey was such a prestigious college, and Alexander so badly wanted to be part of it. And, despite everything, for a moment he felt like her could've.
But that was yesterday. He'd come so far; the fact that he was alive at all was a miracle. But not everyone gave him a chance.
And that was the one thing Alexander could not stand.
Alexander was shown into a room that appeared to be an office. There was a desk, writing instruments, and a great many books; though not nearly enough books to satisfy his bibliophilic desires.
He had finally been granted an audience with the bursar of The College of New Jersey. As far as he could see this was his best option for earning a degree. He had passed the initial oral examination they'd given him, but he hadn't quite earned his place here yet.
He had tried his best to clean up and look presentable. One never got a second chance at a first impression. But it wasn't easy. With his tattered coat and weathered bag, he looked like he didn't belong at such an esteemed institution.
And really, he didn't. He didn't have the money to pay for an education here. He was not only seeking an education here, he was hoping that he wouldn't have to pay for it.
" Good day sir," Alexander began, extending his hand.
" Good day," he replied as he shook it. "You're… I'm sorry, I can't quite remember. What's your name son?"
Son. He hated that.
" Alexander Hamilton, sir."
The man nodded. He already looked skeptical, but he indicated for Alexander to take a seat. "How can I help you?"
" I wish to join a class for the upcoming semester."
The man remained silent, so Alexander continued:
" Also, I'd ideally like to graduate in two years," He didn't want to waste any time, not getting into the college, nor getting the degree. "I understand you offer accelerated courses."
" Ah yes, well you see…" the bursar looked genuinely upset for the first time since Alexander had entered the room. "We had to revoke that option a couple years ago. You see, one lad worked himself so hard that he fell ill."
" That won't happen with me sir," Alexander replied quickly. Though he believed what he said wholeheartedly, he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
" I'm glad to hear you say that, but unfortunately we cannot make exceptions."
Alexander gave a small nod. He could see the logic in that, but he still felt angered. Every moment he became more aware of how much the deck was stacked against him. He was nineteen. That was very late to start college, that much he knew. But he had hoped that his gangly frame and small stature would've helped him. He could probably have passed for sixteen or seventeen.
" Was it just that one man?" he ventured. "Who took an accelerated course?" If there had been other students - even just one - maybe he could convince the man to let him graduate sooner.
" There was one…" the bursar mused. "The son of the president."
Of course.
" He finished about four years ago," he added.
Before they'd revoked the accelerated courses. And of course it would be the son of the college's president. Still…
" What was his name?" Alexander asked.
The man looked at him skeptically, but answered. "Aaron Burr."
There was a long pause, before the man spoke again, changing the topic.
" Well," he sighed. "While we cannot give you an accelerated course of study, we would be happy to have you as a pupil here. You did indeed perform very well on your earlier examination."
" Thank you sir."
He continued, outlining the details and requirements of the courses. When he started talking about tuition costs, Alexander had to fight the urge to interrupt him.
" I was actually hoping for some kind of compensation," he said, after he had finished. "A scholarship, really."
The man grumbled.
" Do you have any references?" he asked. He was looking more annoyed by the second. "Any of your writings?"
Alexander nodded. Keenly aware of the man's eyes on him, he opened his bag and pulled out a copy of The Royal Danish American Gazette .
He would never forget that day. It had been almost four years ago, but he remembered it as if it had happened yesterday.
It had started like any other. He had been in the office of the trading charter, taking notes of the latest imports and exports, and doing his best to avoid looking back at the jail cell where his mother had been held before he was born.
But then everything became quiet and still. So much so that he was unnerved. The quiet wasn't something Alexander liked.
When dusk arrived the sky turned yellow, and by ten o'clock winds and rain and smoke had devastated the island.
A hurricane unlike any other had completely destroyed St. Croix.
At the time he had wondered why God would allow such a thing. He was sure there was meaning in it - nothing happened without it, but he was unable to fathom an explanation in that moment.
Maybe this was why. Maybe the hurricane had been sent to give him the chance for a better life.
He handed the man the paper.
Though the letter was addressed to his father, his cousin had been the one to read it first. Ann had been amazed, the letter had been published in the newspaper, and before Alexander knew what had happened, his cousin was handing him what seemed like a fortune to his fifteen year old self. Enough money for passage on a ship headed for the North American colonies.
The letter was not long, but to Alexander it felt like it took an eternity for the man to finish reading.
" Did you like it, sir?" he asked, a little too eagerly after the bursar looked back up at him.
" Actually I found it rather saccharine and pretentious," he said. "… sufficient to strike astonishment into Angels ."
He sighed and handed the newspaper back to Alexander.
" I don't think there's anything we can do to help you, unfortunately," he said. He stood, walking towards the door. He seemed to be dismissing him, so Alexander followed.
" Maybe you'll have better luck someplace else."
That wasn't what his eyes were saying. They were saying 'get out of here, kid; you're stupid.'
And that was all it took.
The man stumbled back, nearly knocking a nearby chair to the floor, and it was only then that Alexander truly realised what had happened.
He had punched him.
He could barely meet the man's eyes as he spoke:
" I'll take my leave, sir."
He had gotten out of there as quickly as he could. It had still taken far too long to get back home.
Was it home? He certainly considered New York City his home now; and it wasn't as though he was shunned the way he had been as a child. But he'd never had a wholehearted welcome either.
He knew he was different.
He'd been different all his life. His mother's husband had her locked up for adultery; though more often than not it was described in a much worse manner. But they were still legally married when she met his father, leaving Alexander and his brother illegitimate and stigmatised.
That had only continued after his father had left and she had passed, when he started working at Beekman and Cruger. A kid - a boy not yet thirteen - was in charge of the entire trading charter, all because… the owner had known his mother.
It had either baffled people, or made them more suspicious of him than they had already been.
Not to mention this had all happened such a long way away. Everyone he'd met since the ship touched down in the harbour had all grown up here; the colonies always their home. Until recently, he'd been nothing more than a kid in the Caribbean who wished for a war.
To them he was strange. And people were scared by whatever they thought strange. It was safer, in their, minds to all stay the same. But change was the one constant in the world; a world that was currently on the cusp of a war. You couldn't look anywhere and find stagnancy.
Like so many people before him, he had come here with nothing. In fact, he still had next to nothing. He wanted a war. He had wanted that since he was twelve. Writing may have gotten him out of St. Croix, but to get anywhere here, he needed a war.
Thankfully, revolution was brewing; and nowhere more so than in New York. Today it was his city. Who could know what would happen in the future, but now, he was here in New York.
It was polluted and loud and bustling and he loved it. And wandering around the city like this, he was safe. From judgement, from his past, even from the mass of thoughts constantly occupying his mind. Walking around like this he was just another person in the crowd.
And with a mind clear from worries, sometimes he felt as if he was catching a glimpse of the future. His future. A future where he was no longer just a little orphan immigrant, but a man who had made a name for himself in this beautiful, chaotic city.
And in that moment, what had just happened in New Jersey was irrelevant. It was muted noise in the background. Because in that moment, he could hear the celebrations of that future. He swore he could hear them cheering for him now.
From the day his mother had died everything in his life had seemed so small. So restrictive. But he wouldn't trade anything that had happened since that day - not the monotonous, repetitive tasks required of him as bookkeeper at Beekman and Cruger, the hurricane, the letter, not even the fistfight he'd just walked away from, if it would've prevented him from being here now.
But, he also hadn't gotten here on his own. The letter was all well and good, but it wouldn't have made a difference had Ann not read it. He owed it to her, and everyone else who had raised the money that got him on a ship to the colonies to do everything he could with this chance.
They had done everything they could to give him a chance at the education he deserved - an education you couldn't get as a whoreson who wasn't allowed in the school - because they were proud of him.
He hoped his mother would be proud of him too.
He paused outside Fraunces Tavern. Maybe he could go inside later. A drink would be nice, but now, he needed a moment to think.
How many times had he been certain he was dead? He was in his mother's arms when she had succumbed to the disease that had kept them both bedridden for weeks. He had been so fevered that he didn't notice she'd died until that delirium had passed, and who knew how long it had been by then.
Then there was the hurricane. It had destroyed the entire island. He survived and had done the only thing he could: write.
He did not know why he had addressed the letter to his father. His father had left. Why would he care about what had happened to his son? Why did he deserve to know?
He thought people would read it and scoff, just like the bursar had done. But they hadn't. Instead they had put him on a ship.
The ship had caught fire. Had everyone raised money to get him to America only to have him die before he arrived?
But he'd survived even then; survived the flames on the ship when other passengers had not, and arrived in the colonies safely, on the island that everyone shared, no matter who they were or where they had come from.
You couldn't go anywhere without seeing something exciting that you hadn't noticed before. He had passed the Common on his way back from New Jersey; full of people giving impassioned speeches about anything and everything.
Maybe one day he would do the same. Maybe that's the first place he would hear them cheering for him.
A man was walking on the other side of the street ahead of him. He was wearing a wine-red coat, glancing at a book in his hands, and exuded an aura of accomplishment.
Alexander didn't know how he knew, but he was sure that the man was none other than Aaron Burr. The son of the president of the College of New Jersey, the bursar had said. He had finished his degree in two years.
Alexander had sped through his studies at the prep school in Elizabethtown, lapping the pupils who had been there for years and completing in a merely a year.
That could happen again. He was going to get an accelerated course, he was determined.
Even if the College of New Jersey didn't want him, maybe that esteemed alumni of theirs could offer him some advice.
He hurried towards the man.
"Pardon me; are you Aaron Burr, sir?"