I Am Not Throwing Away My Shot; What If I Need To Light A Candle?
It's time for another Hamilton-themed history lesson!
Through a comment from
magistrate, I came across this post that quotes an actual entry from the actual historical Aaron Burr's actual diary. It's magnificent. Here it is:
I did go to bed at 10, promising myself a rich sleep. Lay two hours vigil; that cursed one single dish of tea! ... Got up and attempted to light candle, but in vain; had flint and matches but only some shreds of punk which would not catch. Recollected a gun which I had had on my late journey; filled the pan with powder and was just going to flash it when it occurred that though I had not loaded it someone else might; tried and found in it a very heavy charge! What a fine alarm it would have made if I had fired! Then poured out some powder on a piece of paper, put the shreds of punk with it and after fifty essays succeeded in firing the powder; but it being dark, had put more powder than intended; my shirt caught fire, the papers on my table caught fire, burnt my fingers to a blister (the left hand, fortunately); it seemed like a general conflagration. Succeeded, however, in lighting my candle and passed the night till 5 this morning in smoking, reading, and writing this.
Why have I never been particularly interested in history? History is hilarious. (Another ridiculous thing about Aaron Burr: he apparently learnt the words 'brod' and 'mjolk', the Swedish for 'bread' and 'milk', and was so delighted by this that he used those words instead of the English ones in his diary for three years. If he were around in the present day, he'd pepper all his fanfiction with out-of-place Japanese.)
Also hilarious (and I'm reproducing information I posted in a comment recently, so I'm sorry if you've seen this paragraph already): I've been reading bits of the Reynolds Pamphlet, Alexander Hamilton's ninety-five-page 'look, I've been accused of corruption because of weird payments I've made to this guy, but actually I've just been sleeping with his wife and paying him for it' confession. My favourite part, when Hamilton recounts explaining in private to three members of Congress that, no, he hasn't been up to any dodgy financial business, he's just been adultering: 'One or more of the gentlemen was struck with so much conviction, before I had gotten through the communication, that they delicately urged me to discontinue it as unnecessary. I insisted upon going through the whole and did so.' I love the idea that these guys were going 'no, no, we believe you, you can stop talking' and Hamilton went 'NO, YOU ASKED AND NOW YOU'RE ABOUT TO HEAR ABOUT MY AFFAIR IN EXCRUCIATING DETAIL.'
I want a sitcom where Hamilton and Burr live together. Hamilton won't ever shut up! Burr thinks that guns are the solution to everything! Wait, no, that would end horribly.
Also in the Reynolds Pamphlet: a month after discovering Hamilton's affair with his wife, James Reynolds wrote a letter to Hamilton saying 'look, my wife wants to see you, can you come over and bang her, I MEAN DEFINITELY NOT BANG HER, OBVIOUSLY I WOULDN'T DREAM THAT YOU MIGHT BE COMING OVER TO BANG HER, incidentally hey why not give me some money?'
Hamilton writes of this, 'On the 17th of January, I received the letter No. V. by which Reynolds invites me to renew my visits to his wife. He had before requested that I would see her no more. The motive to this step appears in the conclusion of the letter ... If I recollect rightly, I did not immediately accept the invitation, nor 'till after I had received several very importunate letters from Mrs. Reynolds.'
Well done, Hamilton; we're all very impressed by your self-control.
Through a comment from
magistrate, I came across this post that quotes an actual entry from the actual historical Aaron Burr's actual diary. It's magnificent. Here it is:
I did go to bed at 10, promising myself a rich sleep. Lay two hours vigil; that cursed one single dish of tea! ... Got up and attempted to light candle, but in vain; had flint and matches but only some shreds of punk which would not catch. Recollected a gun which I had had on my late journey; filled the pan with powder and was just going to flash it when it occurred that though I had not loaded it someone else might; tried and found in it a very heavy charge! What a fine alarm it would have made if I had fired! Then poured out some powder on a piece of paper, put the shreds of punk with it and after fifty essays succeeded in firing the powder; but it being dark, had put more powder than intended; my shirt caught fire, the papers on my table caught fire, burnt my fingers to a blister (the left hand, fortunately); it seemed like a general conflagration. Succeeded, however, in lighting my candle and passed the night till 5 this morning in smoking, reading, and writing this.
Why have I never been particularly interested in history? History is hilarious. (Another ridiculous thing about Aaron Burr: he apparently learnt the words 'brod' and 'mjolk', the Swedish for 'bread' and 'milk', and was so delighted by this that he used those words instead of the English ones in his diary for three years. If he were around in the present day, he'd pepper all his fanfiction with out-of-place Japanese.)
Also hilarious (and I'm reproducing information I posted in a comment recently, so I'm sorry if you've seen this paragraph already): I've been reading bits of the Reynolds Pamphlet, Alexander Hamilton's ninety-five-page 'look, I've been accused of corruption because of weird payments I've made to this guy, but actually I've just been sleeping with his wife and paying him for it' confession. My favourite part, when Hamilton recounts explaining in private to three members of Congress that, no, he hasn't been up to any dodgy financial business, he's just been adultering: 'One or more of the gentlemen was struck with so much conviction, before I had gotten through the communication, that they delicately urged me to discontinue it as unnecessary. I insisted upon going through the whole and did so.' I love the idea that these guys were going 'no, no, we believe you, you can stop talking' and Hamilton went 'NO, YOU ASKED AND NOW YOU'RE ABOUT TO HEAR ABOUT MY AFFAIR IN EXCRUCIATING DETAIL.'
I want a sitcom where Hamilton and Burr live together. Hamilton won't ever shut up! Burr thinks that guns are the solution to everything! Wait, no, that would end horribly.
Also in the Reynolds Pamphlet: a month after discovering Hamilton's affair with his wife, James Reynolds wrote a letter to Hamilton saying 'look, my wife wants to see you, can you come over and bang her, I MEAN DEFINITELY NOT BANG HER, OBVIOUSLY I WOULDN'T DREAM THAT YOU MIGHT BE COMING OVER TO BANG HER, incidentally hey why not give me some money?'
Hamilton writes of this, 'On the 17th of January, I received the letter No. V. by which Reynolds invites me to renew my visits to his wife. He had before requested that I would see her no more. The motive to this step appears in the conclusion of the letter ... If I recollect rightly, I did not immediately accept the invitation, nor 'till after I had received several very importunate letters from Mrs. Reynolds.'
Well done, Hamilton; we're all very impressed by your self-control.