Alexandra Hamilton

The Room Where It Happens

Burr's POV

It's a lovely day; perfect for a walk down Wall Street. I stroll down the pavement and whom do I see but Alexandra Hamilton. This is ridiculous. Why the hell do our paths keep crossing? I mean, I know she lives on Wall Street, but come on!

I try to be amiable. As tiresome as she can be, she's still a friend. "Ah, Madam Secretary!"

She seems just as pleased to see me. "Mr. Burr, sir!"

"Hey! Did you hear the news about good old General Mercer?"

"No."

"You know Claremont Street?" I ask, gesturing in the general direction of the street.

"Yeah." Her responses are brief and apathetic. She clearly has something on her mind.

"They renamed it after him. The Mercer legacy is secure."

"Sure."

"And all he had to do was die."

"Hey, that's a lot less work."

"We oughta give it a try." I finally get her to laugh before turning to more professional matters. "Now how ya gonna get your debt plan through?"

"I guess I'm gonna finally have to listen to you."

"Really?"

She nods and in a mockingly deep voice, she says, "Talk less. Smile more..." I laugh, but honestly that hurt. "Do whatever it takes to get my plan on the Congress floor."

Is that what's happening here? Good for her. She's after more power. Meanwhile I'm stuck with my law practice. I lean in and whisper to her, "Hey, Madison and Jefferson are merciless." She's gotten pretty far, but I have a feeling that her luck will run out soon.

"Well, hate the sin, love the sinner." She says, maintaining her conviction.

"Hamilton." I turn and see James Madison beckoning to Alexandra.

"I'm sorry, Burr. I gotta go."

"But—" I was enjoying our conversation. It reminded me of old times.

Clearly Alexandra didn't feel the same way. "Decisions are happening over dinner." She told me in a half sneer before following Madison around the corner.

I continue my walk, but I can't help but wonder what in God's name was going on between Madison and Hamilton. As time goes on I begin to hear whispers of what happened and I've come to my own conclusion of what happened. As far as I know, two Virginians and an immigrant walk into a room, diametrically opposed foes. They emerge with a compromise, having opened doors that were previously closed, bros. The immigrant emerges with unprecedented financial power; a system she can shape however she wants. The Virginians emerge with the nation's capital. And here's the pièce de résistance:

No one else was in the room where it happened, the room where it happened, the room where it happened.
No one else was in the room where it happened, the room where it happened, the room where it happened.

No one really knows how the game is played, the art of the trade, how the sausage gets made. We just assume that it happens, but no one else was in the room where it happens.

No one else might ever know for sure, but we can form a bit of an idea based on Thomas Jefferson's boasting, which I was forced to listen to one night at an entirely different meeting. Thomas claims, "Alexandra was on Washington's doorstep one day in distress and disarray." Thomas claims, "Alexandra said, 'I've nowhere else to turn' and basically begged me to join the fray." I wasn't there, but I can say without a doubt that Alexandra didn't say that. She would never put her pride aside for anyone, let alone Jefferson. It makes me wonder if Jefferson's word is worth anything. Thomas claims, "I approached Madison and said, 'I know you hate her, but let's hear what she has to say'." Thomas claims, "Well, I arranged the meeting. I arranged the menu, the venue, the seating."