Jefferson and his Colleagues, A Chronicle of the Virginia Dynasty An American Cataline byJohnson, Allen
With the transfer of Louisiana, the United States entered upon
its first experience in governing an alien civilized people. At
first view there is something incongruous in the attempt of the
young Republic, founded upon the consent of the governed, to rule
over a people whose land had been annexed without their consent
and whose preferences in the matter of government had never been
consulted. The incongruity appears the more striking when it is
recalled that the author of the Declaration of Independence was
now charged with the duty of appointing all officers, civil and
military, in the new territory. King George III had never ruled
more autocratically over any of his North American colonies than
President Jefferson over Louisiana through Governor William
Claiborne and General James Wilkinson.
The leaders among the Creoles and better class of Americans
counted on a speedy escape from this autocratic government, which
was confessedly temporary. The terms of the treaty, indeed,
encouraged the hope that Louisiana would be admitted at once as a
State. The inhabitants of the ceded territory were to be
"incorporated into the Union." But Congress gave a different
interpretation to these words and dashed all hopes by the act of
1804, which, while it conceded a legislative council, made its
members and all officers appointive, and divided the province. A
delegation of Creoles went to Washington to protest against this
inconsiderate treatment. They bore a petition which contained
many stiletto-like thrusts at the President. What about those
elemental rights of representation and election which had figured
in the glorious contest for freedom? "Do political axioms on the
Atlantic become problems when transferred to the shores of the
Mississippi?" To such arguments Congress could not remain wholly
indifferent. The outcome was a third act (March 2, 1805) which
established the usual form of territorial government, an elective
legislature, a delegate in Congress, and a Governor appointed by
the President. To a people who had counted on statehood these
concessions were small pinchbeck. Their irritation was not
allayed, and it continued to focus upon Governor Claiborne, the
distrusted agent of a government which they neither liked nor
respected.
Strange currents and counter-currents ran through the life of
this distant province. Casa Calvo and Morales, the former Spanish
officials, continued to reside in the city, like spiders at the
center of a web of Spanish intrigue; and the threads of their web
extended to West Florida, where Governor Folch watched every
movement of Americans up and down the Mississippi, and to Texas,
where Salcedo, Captain-General of the Internal Provinces of
Mexico, waited for overt aggressions from land-hungry American
frontiersmen. All these Spanish agents knew that Monroe had left
Madrid empty-handed yet still asserting claims that were
ill-disguised threats; but none of them knew whether the
impending blow would fall upon West Florida or Texas. Then, too,
right under their eyes was the Mexican Association, formed for
the avowed purpose of collecting information about Mexico which
would be useful if the United States should become involved in
war with Spain. In the city, also, were adventurous individuals
ready for any daring move upon Mexico, where, according to
credible reports, a revolution was imminent. The conquest of
Mexico was the day-dream of many an adventurer. In his memoir
advising Bonaparte to take and hold Louisiana as an impenetrable
barrier to Mexico, Pontalba had said with strong conviction: "It
is the surest means of destroying forever the bold schemes with
which several individuals in the United States never cease
filling the newspapers, by designating Louisiana as the highroad
to the conquest of Mexico."
Into this web of intrigue walked the late Vice-President of the
United States, leisurely journeying through the Southwest in the
summer of 1805.
Aaron Burr is one of the enigmas of American politics. Something
of the mystery and romance that shroud the evil-doings of certain
Italian despots of the age of the Renaissance envelops him.
Despite the researches of historians, the tangled web of Burr's
conspiracy has never been unraveled. It remains the most
fascinating though, perhaps, the least important episode in
Jefferson's administration. Yet Burr himself repays study, for
his activities touch many sides of contemporary society and
illuminate many dark corners in American politics.
According to the principles of eugenics, Burr was well-born, and
by all the laws of this pseudo-science should have left an
honorable name behind him. His father was a Presbyterian
clergyman, sound in the faith, who presided over the infancy of
the College of New Jersey; his maternal grandfather was that
massive divine, Jonathan Edwards. After graduating at Princeton,
Burr began to study law but threw aside his law books on hearing
the news of Lexington. He served with distinction under Arnold
before Quebec, under Washington in the battle of Long Island, and
later at Monmouth, and retired with the rank of lieutenant
colonel in 1779. Before the close of the Revolution he had begun
the practice of law in New York, and had married the widow of a
British army officer; entering politics, he became in turn a
member of the State Assembly, Attorney-General, and United States
Senator. But a mere enumeration of such details does not tell the
story of Burr's life and character. Interwoven with the strands
of his public career is a bewildering succession of intrigues and
adventures in which women have a conspicuous part, for Burr was a
fascinating man and disarmed distrust by avoiding any false
assumption of virtue. His marriage, however, proved happy. He
adored his wife and fairly worshiped his strikingly beautiful
daughter Theodosia.
Burr throve in the atmosphere of intrigue. New York politics
afforded his proper milieu. How he ingratiated himself with
politicians of high and low degree; how he unlocked the doors to
political preferment; how he became one of the first bosses of
the city of New York; how he combined public service with private
interest; how he organized the voters--no documents disclose.
Only now and then the enveloping fog lifts, as, for example,
during the memorable election of 1800, when the ignorant voters
of the seventh ward, duly drilled and marshaled, carried the city
for the Republicans, and not even Colonel Hamilton, riding on his
white horse from precinct to precinct, could stay the rout. That
election carried New York for Jefferson and made Burr the logical
candidate of the party for Vice-President.
These political strokes betoken a brilliant if not always a
steady and reliable mind. Burr, it must be said, was not trusted
even by his political associates. It is significant that
Washington, a keen judge of men, refused to appoint Burr as
Minister to France to succeed Morris because he was not convinced
of his integrity. And Jefferson shared these misgivings, though
the exigencies of politics made him dissemble his feelings. It is
significant, also, that Burr was always surrounded by men of more
than doubtful intentions--place-hunters and self-seeking
politicians, who had the gambler's instinct.
As Vice-President, Burr could not hope to exert much influence
upon the Administration, since the office in itself conferred
little power and did not even, according to custom, make him a
member of the Cabinet; but as Republican boss of New York who had
done more than any one man to secure the election of the ticket
in 1800, he might reasonably expect Jefferson and his Virginia
associates to treat him with consideration in the distribution of
patronage. To his intense chagrin, he was ignored; not only
ignored but discredited, for Jefferson deliberately allied
himself with the Clintons and the Livingstons, the rival factions
in New York which were bent upon driving Burr from the party.
This treatment filled Burr's heart with malice; but he nursed his
wounds in secret and bided his time.
Realizing that he was politically bankrupt, Burr made a hazard of
new fortunes in 1804 by offering himself as candidate for
Governor of New York, an office then held by George Clinton.
Early in the year he had a remarkable interview with Jefferson in
which he observed that it was for the interest of the party for
him to retire, but that his retirement under existing
circumstances would be thought discreditable. He asked "some mark
of favor from me," Jefferson wrote in his journal, "which would
declare to the world that he retired with my confidence"--an
executive appointment, in short. This was tantamount to an offer
of peace or war. Jefferson declined to gratify him, and Burr then
began an intrigue with the Federalist leaders of New England.
The rise of a Republican party of challenging strength in New
England cast Federalist leaders into the deepest gloom. Already
troubled by the annexation of Louisiana, which seemed to them to
imperil the ascendancy of New England in the Union, they now saw
their own ascendancy in New England imperiled. Under the
depression of impending disaster, men like Senator Timothy
Pickering of Massachusetts and Roger Griswold of Connecticut
broached to their New England friends the possibility of a
withdrawal from the Union and the formation of a Northern
Confederacy. As the confederacy shaped itself in Pickering's
imagination, it would of necessity include New York; and the
chaotic conditions in New York politics at this time invited
intrigue. When, therefore, a group of Burr's friends in the
Legislature named him as their candidate for Governor, Pickering
and Griswold seized the moment to approach him with their
treasonable plans. They gave him to understand that as Governor
of New York he would naturally hold a strategic position and
could, if he would, take the lead in the secession of the
Northern States. Federalist support could be given to him in the
approaching election. They would be glad to know his views. But
the shifty Burr would not commit himself further than to promise
a satisfactory administration. Though the Federalist intriguers
would have been glad of more explicit assurances they counted on
his vengeful temper and hatred of the Virginia domination at
Washington to make him a pliable tool. They were willing to
commit the party openly to Burr and trust to events to bind him
to their cause.
Against this mad intrigue one clear-headed individual resolutely
set himself--not wholly from disinterested motives. Alexander
Hamilton had good reason to know Burr. He declared in private
conversation, and the remark speedily became public property,
that he looked upon Burr as a dangerous man who ought not to be
trusted with the reins of government. He pleaded with New York
Federalists not to commit the fatal blunder of endorsing Burr in
caucus, and he finally won his point; but he could not prevent
his partisans from supporting Burr at the polls.
The defeat of Burr dashed the hopes of the Federalists of New
England; the bubble of a Northern Confederacy vanished. It dashed
also Burr's personal ambitions: he could no longer hope for
political rehabilitation in New York. And the man who a second
time had crossed his path and thwarted his purposes was his old
rival, Alexander Hamilton. It is said that Burr was not naturally
vindictive: perhaps no man is naturally vindictive. Certain it is
that bitter disappointment had now made Burr what Hamilton had
called him--"a dangerous man." He took the common course of men
of honor at this time; he demanded prompt and unqualified
acknowledgment or denial of the expression. Well aware of what
lay behind this demand, Hamilton replied deliberately with
half-conciliatory words, but he ended with the usual words of
those prepared to accept a challenge, "I can only regret the
circumstance, and must abide the consequences." A challenge
followed. We are told that Hamilton accepted to save his
political leadership and influence--strange illusion in one so
gifted! Yet public opinion had not yet condemned dueling, and men
must be judged against the background of their times.
On a summer morning (July 11, 1804) Burr and Hamilton crossed the
Hudson to Weehawken and there faced each other for the last time.
Hamilton withheld his fire; Burr aimed with murderous intent, and
Hamilton fell mortally wounded. The shot from Burr's pistol long
reverberated. It woke public conscience to the horror and
uselessness of dueling, and left Burr an outlaw from respectable
society, stunned by the recoil, and under indictment for murder.
Only in the South and West did men treat the incident lightly as
an affair of honor.
The political career of Burr was now closed. When he again met
the Senate face to face, he had been dropped by his own party in
favor of George Clinton, to whom he surrendered the
Vice-Presidency on March 5, 1805. His farewell address is
described as one of the most affecting ever spoken in the Senate.
Describing the scene to his daughter, Burr said that tears flowed
abundantly, but Burr must have described what he wished to see.
American politicians are not Homeric heroes, who weep on slight
provocation; and any inclination to pity Burr must have been
inhibited by the knowledge that he had made himself the
rallying-point of every dubious intrigue at the capital.
The list of Burr's intimates included Jonathan Dayton, whose term
as Senator had just ended, and who, like Burr, sought means of
promoting his fortunes, John Smith, Senator from Ohio, the
notorious Swartwouts of New York who were attached to Burr as
gangsters to their chief, and General James Wilkinson, governor
of the northern territory carved out of Louisiana and commander
of the western army with headquarters at St. Louis.
Wilkinson had a long record of duplicity, which was suspected but
never proved by his contemporaries. There was hardly a dubious
episode from the Revolution to this date with which he had not
been connected. He was implicated in the Conway cabal against
Washington; he was active in the separatist movement in Kentucky
during the Confederation; he entered into an irregular commercial
agreement with the Spanish authorities at New Orleans; he was
suspected--and rightly, as documents recently unearthed in Spain
prove--of having taken an oath of allegiance to Spain and of
being in the pay of Spain; he was also suspected--and
justly--of using his influence to bring about a separation of the
Western States from the Union; yet in 1791 he was given a
lieutenant-colonel's commission in the regular army and served
under St. Clair in the Northwest, and again as a
brigadier-general under Wayne. Even here the atmosphere of
intrigue enveloped him, and he was accused of inciting discontent
among the Kentucky troops and of trying to supplant Wayne. When
commissioners were trying to run the Southern boundary in
accordance with the treaty of 1795 with Spain, Wilkinson--still a
pensioner of Spain, as documents prove--attempted to delay the
survey. In the light of these revelations, Wilkinson appears as
an unscrupulous adventurer whose thirst for lucre made him
willing to betray either master--the Spaniard who pensioned him
or the American who gave him his command.
In the spring of 1805 Burr made a leisurely journey across the
mountains, by way of Pittsburgh, to New Orleans, where he had
friends and personal followers. The secretary of the territory
was one of his henchmen; a justice of the superior court was his
stepson; the Creole petitionists who had come to Washington to
secure self-government had been cordially received by Burr and
had a lively sense of gratitude. On his way down the Ohio, Burr
landed at Blennerhassett's Island, where an eccentric Irishman of
that name owned an estate. Harman Blennerhassett was to rue the
day that he entertained this fascinating guest. At Cincinnati he
was the guest of Senator Smith, and there he also met Dayton. At
Nashville he visited General Andrew Jackson, who was thrilled
with the prospect of war with Spain; at Fort Massac he spent four
days in close conference with General Wilkinson; and at New
Orleans he consorted with Daniel Clark, a rich merchant and the
most uncompromising opponent of Governor Claiborne, and with
members of the Mexican Association and every would-be adventurer
and filibuster. In November, Burr was again in Washington. What
was the purpose of this journey and what did it accomplish?
It is far easier to tell what Burr did after this mysterious
western expedition than what he planned to do. There is danger of
reading too great consistency into his designs. At one moment, if
we may believe Anthony Merry, the British Minister, who lent an
ear to Burr's proposals, he was plotting a revolution which
should separate the Western States from the Union. To accomplish
this design he needed British funds and a British naval force.
Jonathan Dayton revealed to Yrujo much the same plot--which he
thought was worth thirty or forty thousand dollars to the Spanish
Government. To such urgent necessity for funds were the
conspirators driven. But Dayton added further details to the
story which may have been intended only to intimidate Yrujo. The
revolution effected by British aid, said Dayton gravely, an
expedition would be undertaken against Mexico. Subsequently
Dayton unfolded a still more remarkable tale. Burr had been
disappointed in the expectation of British aid, and he was now
bent upon "an almost insane plan," which was nothing less than
the seizure of the Government at Washington. With the government
funds thus obtained, and with the necessary frigates, the
conspirators would sail for New Orleans and proclaim the
independence of Louisiana and the Western States.
The kernel of truth in these accounts is not easily separated
from the chaff. The supposition that Burr seriously contemplated
a separation of the Western States from the Union may be
dismissed from consideration. The loyalty of the Mississippi
Valley at this time is beyond question; and Burr was too keen an
observer not to recognize the temper of the people with whom he
sojourned. But there is reason to believe that he and his
confederates may have planned an enterprise against Mexico, for
such a project was quite to the taste of Westerners who hated
Spain as ardently as they loved the Union. Circumstances favored
a filibustering expedition. The President's bellicose message of
December had prepared the people of the Mississippi Valley for
war; the Spanish plotters had been expelled from Louisiana;
Spanish forces had crossed the Sabine; American troops had been
sent to repel them if need be; the South American revolutionist
Miranda had sailed, with vessels fitted out in New York, to start
a revolt against Spanish rule in Caracas; every revolutionist in
New Orleans was on the qui vive. What better time could there be
to launch a filibustering expedition against Mexico? If it
succeeded and a republic were established, the American
Government might be expected to recognize a fait accompli.
The success of Burr's plans, whatever they may have been,
depended on his procuring funds; and it was doubtless the hope of
extracting aid from Blennerhassett that drew him to the island in
midsummer of 1806. Burr was accompanied by his daughter Theodosia
and her husband, Joseph Alston, a wealthy South Carolina planter,
who was either the dupe or the accomplice of Burr. Together they
persuaded the credulous Irishman to purchase a tract of land on
the Washita River in the heart of Louisiana, which would
ultimately net him a profit of a million dollars when Louisiana
became an independent state with Burr as ruler and England as
protector. They even assured Blennerhassett that he should go as
minister to England. He was so dazzled at the prospect that he
not only made the initial payment for the lands, but advanced all
his property for Burr's use on receiving a guaranty from Alston.
Having landed his fish, Burr set off down the river to visit
General Jackson at Nashville and to procure boats and supplies
for his expedition.
Meanwhile, Theodosia--the brilliant, fascinating Theodosia--and
her husband played the game at Blennerhassett's Island.
Blennerhassett's head was completely turned. He babbled most
indiscreetly about the approaching coup d'etat. Colonel Burr
would be king of Mexico, he told his gardener, and Mrs. Alston
would be queen when Colonel Burr died. Who could resist the
charms of this young princess? Blennerhassett and his wife were
impatient to exchange their little isle for marble halls in far
away Mexico.
But all was not going well with the future Emperor of Mexico.
Ugly rumors were afloat. The active preparations at
Blennerhassett's Island, the building of boats at various points
along the river, the enlistment of recruits, coupled with hints
of secession, disturbed such loyal citizens as the
District-Attorney at Frankfort, Kentucky. He took it upon himself
to warn the President, and then, in open court, charged Burr with
violating the laws of the United States by setting on foot a
military expedition against Mexico and with inciting citizens to
rebellion in the Western States. But at the meeting of the grand
jury Burr appeared surrounded by his friends and with young Henry
Clay for counsel. The grand jury refused to indict him and he
left the court in triumph. Some weeks later the District-Attorney
renewed his motion; but again Burr was discharged by the grand
jury, amid popular applause. Enthusiastic admirers in Frankfort
even gave a ball in his honor.
Notwithstanding these warnings of conspiracy, President Jefferson
exhibited a singular indifference and composure. To all alarmists
he made the same reply. The people of the West were loyal and
could be trusted. It was not until disquieting and ambiguous
messages from Wilkinson reached Washington-disquieting because
ambiguous--that the President was persuaded to act. On the 27th
of November, he issued a proclamation warning all good citizens
that sundry persons were conspiring against Spain and enjoining
all Federal officers to apprehend those engaged in the unlawful
enterprise. The appearance of this proclamation at Nashville
should have led to Burr's arrest, for he was still detained
there; but mysterious influences seemed to paralyze the arm of
the Government. On the 22d of December, Burr set off, with two
boats which Jackson had built and some supplies, down the
Cumberland. At the mouth of the river, he joined forces with
Blennerhassett, who had left his island in haste just as the Ohio
militia was about to descend upon him. The combined strength of
the flotilla was nine bateaux carrying less than sixty men. There
was still time to intercept the expedition at Fort Massac, but
again delays that have never been explained prevented the
President's proclamation from arriving in time; and Burr's little
fleet floated peacefully by down stream.
The scene now shifts to the lower Mississippi, and the heavy
villain of the melodrama appears on the stage in the uniform of a
United States military officer--General James Wilkinson. He had
been under orders since May 6, 1806, to repair to the Territory
of Orleans with as little delay as possible and to repel any
invasion east of the River Sabine; but it was now September and
he had only just reached Natchitoches, where the American
volunteers and militiamen from Louisiana and Mississippi were
concentrating. Much water had flowed under the bridge since Aaron
Burr visited New Orleans.
After President Jefferson's bellicose message of the previous
December, war with Spain seemed inevitable. And when Spanish
troops crossed the Sabine in July and took up their post only
seventeen miles from Natchitoches, Western Americans awaited only
the word to begin hostilities. The Orleans Gazette declared that
the time to repel Spanish aggression had come. The enemy must be
driven beyond the Sabine. "The route from Natchitoches to Mexico
is clear, plain, and open." The occasion was at hand "for
conferring on our oppressed Spanish brethren in Mexico those
inestimable blessings of freedom which we ourselves enjoy."
"Gallant Louisianians! Now is the time to distinguish yourselves
. . . . Should the generous efforts of our Government to
establish a free, independent Republican Empire in Mexico be
successful, how fortunate, how enviable would be the situation in
New Orleans!" The editor who sounded this clarion call was a
coadjutor of Burr. On the flood tide of a popular war against
Spain, they proposed to float their own expedition. Much depended
on General Wilkinson; but he had already written privately of
subverting the Spanish Government in Mexico, and carrying "our
conquests to California and the Isthmus of Darien."
With much swagger and braggadocio, Wilkinson advanced to the
center of the stage. He would drive the Spaniards over the
Sabine, though they outnumbered him three to one. "I believe, my
friend," he wrote, "I shall be obliged to fight and to flog
them." Magnificent stage thunder. But to Wilkinson's chagrin the
Spaniards withdrew of their own accord. Not a Spaniard remained
to contest his advance to the border. Yet, oddly enough, he
remained idle in camp. Why?
Some two weeks later, an emissary appeared at Natchitoches with a
letter from Burr dated the 29th of July, in cipher. What this
letter may have originally contained will probably never be
known, for only Wilkinson's version survives, and that underwent
frequent revision.[*] It is quite as remarkable for its omissions
as for anything that it contains. In it there is no mention of a
western uprising nor of a revolution in New Orleans; but only the
intimation that an attack is to be made upon Spanish possessions,
presumably Mexico, with possibly Baton Rouge as the immediate
objective. Whether or no this letter changed Wilkinson's plan, we
can only conjecture. Certain it is, however, that about this time
Wilkinson determined to denounce Burr and his associates and to
play a double game, posing on the one hand as the savior of his
country and on the other as a secret friend to Spain. After some
hesitation he wrote to President Jefferson warning him in general
terms of an expedition preparing against Vera Cruz but omitting
all mention of Burr. Subsequently he wrote a confidential letter
about this "deep, dark, and widespread conspiracy" which enmeshed
all classes and conditions in New Orleans and might bring seven
thousand men from the Ohio. The contents of Burr's mysterious
letter were to be communicated orally to the President by the
messenger who bore this precious warning. It was on the strength
of these communications that the President issued his
proclamation of the 27th of November.
[* What is usually accepted as the correct version is printed by
McCaleb in his "Aaron Burr Conspiracy," pp. 74 and 75, and by
Henry Adams in his "History of the United States," vol. III, pp.
253-4.]
While Wilkinson was inditing these misleading missives to the
President, he was preparing the way for his entry at New Orleans.
To the perplexed and alarmed Governor he wrote: "You are
surrounded by dangers of which you dream not, and the destruction
of the American Government is seriously menaced. The storm will
probably burst in New Orleans, where I shall meet it, and triumph
or perish!" Just five days later he wrote a letter to the Viceroy
of Mexico which proves him beyond doubt the most contemptible
rascal who ever wore an American uniform. "A storm, a
revolutionary tempest, an infernal plot threatens the destruction
of the empire," he wrote; the first object of attack would be New
Orleans, then Vera Cruz, then Mexico City; scenes of violence and
pillage would follow; let His Excellency be on his guard. To ward
off these calamities, "I will hurl myself like a Leonidas into
the breach." But let His Excellency remember what risks the
writer of this letter incurs, "by offering without orders this
communication to a foreign power," and let him reimburse the
bearer of this letter to the amount of 121,000 pesos which will
be spent to shatter the plans of these bandits from the Ohio.
The arrival of Wilkinson in New Orleans was awaited by friends
and foes, with bated breath. The conspirators had as yet no
intimation of his intentions: Governor Claiborne was torn by
suspicion of this would-be savior, for at the very time he was
reading Wilkinson's gasconade he received a cryptic letter from
Andrew Jackson which ran, "keep a watchful eye on our General and
beware of an attack as well from your own country as Spain!" If
Claiborne could not trust "our General," whom could he trust!
The stage was now set for the last act in the drama. Wilkinson
arrived in the city, deliberately set Claiborne aside, and
established a species of martial law, not without opposition. To
justify his course Wilkinson swore to an affidavit based on
Burr's letter of the 29th of July and proceeded with. his
arbitrary arrests. One by one Burr's confederates were taken into
custody. The city was kept in a state of alarm; Burr's armed
thousands were said to be on the way; the negroes were to be
incited to revolt. Only the actual appearance of Burr's
expedition or some extraordinary happening could maintain this
high pitch of popular excitement and save Wilkinson from becoming
the ridiculous victim of his own folly.
On the 10th of January (1807), after an uneventful voyage down
the Mississippi, Burr's flotilla reached the mouth of Bayou
Pierre, some thirty miles above Natchez. Here at length was the
huge armada which was to shatter the Union--nine boats and sixty
men! Tension began to give way. People began to recover their
sense of humor. Wilkinson was never in greater danger in his
life, for he was about to appear ridiculous. It was at Bayou
Pierre that Burr going ashore learned that Wilkinson had betrayed
him. His first instinct was to flee, for if he should proceed to
New Orleans he would fall into Wilkinson's hands and doubtless be
court-martialed and shot; but if he tarried, he would be arrested
and sent to Washington. Indecision and despair seized him; and
while Blennerhassett and other devoted followers waited for their
emperor to declare his intention, he found himself facing the
acting-governor of the Mississippi Territory with a warrant for
his arrest. To the chagrin of his fellow conspirators, Burr
surrendered tamely, even pusillanimously.
The end of the drama was near at hand. Burr was brought before a
grand jury, and though he once more escaped indictment, he was
put under bonds, quite illegally he thought, to appear when
summoned. On the 1st of February he abandoned his followers to
the tender mercies of the law and fled in disguise into the
wilderness. A month later he was arrested near the Spanish border
above Mobile by Lieutenant Gaines, in command at Fort Stoddert,
and taken to Richmond. The trial that followed did not prove
Burr's guilt, but it did prove Thomas Jefferson's credulity and
cast grave doubts on James Wilkinson's loyalty.[*] Burr was
acquitted of the charge of treason in court, but he remained
under popular indictment, and his memory has never been wholly
cleared of the suspicion of treason.
[* An account of the trial of Burr will be found in "John Marshall
and the Constitution" by Edward S. Corwin, in "The Chronicles of
America".]
