Corset in Congress (A Hamilton Genderbend)

Chapter Forty-Six: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

My absolute favourite thing is the Off-Broadway version of this. There is a video above by toripis, and it includes Ever Yours, Alexander, and Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story. Make sure you check it out!

Elijah's POV

In times of unbearable pain, like this, as I lie alone on my deathbed, that I like to remember what trusted figures have said before, and their wise words keep me strong.

Let me tell you what I wish I'd known, when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control: who lives, who dies, who tells your story.

I remember Alexandra telling me about that. I was so mad at her that I couldn't even look her in the eye. But even so, General (at the time) Washington's words touched me, and I hoped they touched my wife, too. All this talk of her legacy was making her obsessed, ruining everything we'd tried so hard to build.

And what a legacy hers is.

Over the years, I've asked myself the question, Who lives, who dies, who tells your story? about Alexandra.

I'll give her this: her financial system is a work of genius. I couldn't undo it if I tried. And I tried.

President Jefferson said that. Can you believe it? He said this in an article, about my wife, who he fought with every time he was around her. But he still said this, because my wife, even through her mistakes, was one of the best women we've ever had the privilege to know.

President Madison, his successor, said this in another article, many years later:

She took our country from bankruptcy to prosperity. I hate to admit it, but she doesn't get enough credit for all the credit she gave us.

Of course, they were both politicians, so they published other letters, articles, quotes, et cetera that were less flattering, but I've admired their reluctant sincerity all these years later. It's refreshing to see less hatred and more acceptance.

Every other founding fathers' story gets told. Every other founding father gets to grow old. So why not Alexandra?

But when you're gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame? Who tells your story?

Elijah does. 

This world will not pass over my family.

I put myself back in the narrative. I stop wasting time on tears. I live another fifty years.

It's not enough.

I interview every soldier who fought by your side, Alexandra. I tell their story, like I know you would, if only you were here to do it.

I try to make sense of your thousands, and thousands, and thousands of pages of writings. You really do write like you're running out of time. Burr was right. Who knew?

Oh my god. Burr. My heart hurts now. Goddamn Burr, always shooting people, never considering the consequences. He's like a homicidal child throwing a tantrum. Okay no, let's not use that mental image. 

I rely on Angelica. While she's alive we tell your story. She is buried in Trinity Church near you. I know you'd like that she's always by your side. When I needed her most, she was right on time. I don't know how I'd have done it all without her.

And I'm still not through. I ask myself, "What would you do if you had more time?" The Lord in his kindness, he gives me what you always wanted -- he gives me more time.

I raise funds in D.C. for the Washington Monument. I know how much he meant to you, and I just had to do my part.

I speak out against slavery. You could have done so much more if you only had time.

And when my time is up, have I done enough? Will they tell our story?

Because my time is up, I can feel it. Is this how you felt before? Like you should've done more, like you're going to be forgotten immediately. How every breath catches in your chest, and you never want to let go of it, since it might be your last. How you feel so incredibly alone, like there's no one out there who can understand.

Oh. Can I tell you what I'm proudest of?

The orphanage. I established the first private orphanage in New York City. I help raise hundreds of children. I get to see them growing up, like Phillip should've.

God, now I'm crying.

In their eyes I see you, Alexandra. I see you every time, and each time it prompts me to do all I can, to make a difference, to step up and continue the legacy, which is funny, because I always hated your legacy, and how much you valued it.

And now my time us up, have I done enough? Will they tell my story?

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

It's only a matter of time.