Disappointingly, admission to the Alexander Hamilton museum was only $5.
“You know this would be a lot cooler if you charged $10,” I told the lady working the front desk at this two-story stone house on the Nevis waterfront. She squinted and looked confused.
“Because Hamilton is on the $10 bill,” I reminded her. She gave me a knowing little smirk.
“I know,” she said. “We just... we don’t really think about it that much.”
With the Broadway hit Hamilton, his native island could easily have turned itself into Hamiltonland, an 18th-century theme town saturated with tacky gift shops selling three-for-$10 “I got Hammed in Nevis” T-shirts. It could go all-in on the quiet notoriety it gets in the musical’s opening lines: “How does a bastard / orphan / son of a whore and a Scotsman / dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean / by providence, impoverished, in squalor / grow up to be a hero and a scholar?”