reat
company, and it was the most hilarious banquet in the society's history.
The old warriors sighed, and wondered at his eternal youth. When he
sprang upon the table and sang his old camp-song, "The Drum," he looked
the boy they remembered at Valley Forge and Morristown. There was only
one member of the company who was unelectrified by the gay abandon of
the evening, and his sombre appearance was so marked in contrast that it
was widely commented on afterward. Burr frequently leaned forward and
stared at Hamilton in amazement. As the hilarity waxed, his taciturnity
deepened, and he finally withdrew.

The secret was well kept. Few knew of the projected meeting, and none
suspected it, although Burr's pistol practice aroused some curiosity. He
had been a principal in a number of duels, and killed no one. But he was
known to have more than one bitter score to pay, for this last campaign
had exceeded every other in heat and fury. So many duels had studded it,
and so many more impended, that the thinking men of the community were
roused to a deep disapproval of the custom. The excitement and horror
over the sacrifice of Hamilton, full-blew this sentiment.

On Saturday, Hamilton gave a dinner at the Grange, and a guest was one
of Washington's first aides, Colonel Trumbull. As he was leaving,
Hamilton took him aside and said, with an emphasis which impressed
Trumbull even at the moment: "You are going to Boston. You will see the
principal men there. Tell them from me, as my request, for God's sake to
cease these conversations and threatings about a separation of the
Union. It must hang together as long as it can be made to. If this Union
were to be broken, it would break my heart."

The following day preceded the duel. Hamilton attended an entertainment
given by Oliver Wolcott, whose fortunes he had made, raising the capital
of a business that could be presided over by no one so well as a former
Secretary of the Treasury. It was a large reception, and he met many of
his old friends. Lady Kitty Duer, widowed, but pleasantly
circumstanced, was there, and Kitty Livingston, once more bearing her
old name in a second marriage. Bitter as the feeling between her house
and Hamilton still was, she had declared long since that she would not
cut him again; and although they never met in private, they often
retired to a secluded corner at gatherings and talked for an hour. His
first reason for attending this reception was to shake her