Burr tarried at Massac, spinning subtle webs to entangle human flies.
He "lived along the line" of correspondence, keeping in touch with
former associates and recent acquaintances. In his ark, seated at a
rough table, he wrote to those he hoped to gain or feared to lose. He
did not neglect the Blennerhassetts, nor Arlington, nor the confiding
young law-students of Pittsburg. A lengthy letter was penned to the
Hon. John Smith, and, at the same sitting, a model _billet-doux_ to
Mrs. Rosemary. Other business was combined with this epistolary
industry, for, even before the stamp of the writer's seal was lifted
from the soft, red wafer on the widow's letter, a backwoods settler
came, by appointment, to close a bargain by which the flatboat
"Salome" was sold.
The somewhat damaged vessel was knocked to pieces by its new owner,
who used the timber to construct a shanty, a stable, and a pig-pen,
for his family and other live-stock. Before this degrading
transmutation was begun, the original proprietor of the now abandoned
craft removed to the commodious cabin of an elegant barge, provided by
the courtesy of Wilkinson. In this convenient vessel, navigated by a
select crew under command of a faithful sergeant, the sole passenger
embarked for New Orleans. In frequent conference with Wilkinson he had
amplified and enforced the arguments broached at the first interview.
On the day set for the statesman's departure, the two men spoke
together, very confidentially.
"Good-bye, Aaron; I augur well of your undertaking. The auspices are
favorable. We are engaged in a scheme full of danger, requiring
enterprise; but, if successful, fraught with fortune and glory."
"General, we are engaged, not in a scheme, but in a sublime exploit.
We are to create an ideal commonwealth. The materials are ready. I go
to take seizin of the grandest dominion on the curve of the globe.
Military force will be requisite to sustain civil polity. The names
Burr and Wilkinson are linked together in the chain of destiny.
Farewell, and God bless you. When I return, I will hasten to join you
at St. Louis, and give a full report of my stewardship."
With rhetoric like this, the parting guest closed his valedictory. His
barge was soon under way. Down the calm Ohio, down the solemn
Mississippi fared Aaron Burr, bound for the prodigal South. Swept
along by the urgent stream, his boat seemed the plaything of fate, and
the unstable element upon which it rode and rocked and trembled, he
likened to human life, fleeting, turbulent, treacherous, yet grandly
beautiful. Yielding to that mood in which the judgment and the will
are suspended, and the passive brain is played upon by every sight and
sound, he sat in an easy chair smoking, lost in sensuous languor, like
an Asian prince. He was, for the time, possessed by the sensation of
being royal. He enjoyed by anticipation the prerogatives of
sovereignty, the power, the luxury, the voluptuous pleasure. The
objects of his ambition appeared then how easy of attainment! To
accomplish seemed no more difficult than to desire. The stream was
running his way, and the wind was blowing his way. As surely as the
Mississippi goes to the Mexican Gulf, would destiny waft Burr to the
ocean of his desire. Imaginations so extravagant, courted in solitude
and fed by indolence, served to beguile the days of the long voyage
from Fort Massac to New Orleans.
At last the barge rounded into port, late in the afternoon of a
perfect summer day. Aaron the First, standing upon deck, was coming
unto his own; or rather, the city came floating out to meet her king.
The bending shore which gives the name Crescent City to the emporium
of the South, was lined with ships from every sea, and with
innumerable river craft. New Orleans was one of the richest marts on
the hemisphere. Burr stepped ashore and quickly ascended the levee.
Hundreds of pleasure-seekers swarmed the footpaths or rested on the
benches under the rows of orange trees which shaded the broad
causeway.
On turning his eyes towards the city, Burr experienced a thrill of
surprise. The prospect surpassed his pre-conceptions. In the subdued
glow of the setting sun, he saw all things touched with a visionary
splendour. Streets, roofs, belfries, the cathedral spire, and the flag
of the Union streaming far away above the fort, appeared objects in an
enchanted scene. Were the seven cities of Cibola clustered in one
golden capital?
The spell was broken by the practical promptings of common sense. Not
in possession, but only in pursuit of a treasury and a scepter, the
would-be monarch addressed himself to the solution of his complicated
problem. It was necessary to learn how the Louisianians regarded the
Federal government, how much prejudice they felt against the Atlantic
States, and whether they could be influenced to break away from the
Union and to organize a separate autonomy. Burr wished further to know
who and how many were disposed to wage war against the Spaniards with
the ulterior design of conquering Mexico. In order to learn the inside
facts he must gain the confidence of all, must make himself popular,
must fathom hearts and steal away brains. The final success of his
plans would depend on the good-will of the people. The good-will of
the people must be won by address--by social tact. Social tact was
Aaron Burr's art of arts. He deliberately set about the delicate
business of captivating a city that he might eventually capture it.
Wilkinson had pressed upon him letters of introduction to the magnates
of the town. Neither letters nor formal receptions were needed to
introduce Aaron Burr to society. His manner was passport, entitling
him to cross all borders; his sympathy was cosmopolitan, his
toleration unlimited, his pleasure, to please others, his study
urbanity. Jews thought him a Hebrew, and Christians voted him
orthodox. The amiable but capricious creoles, easy to take offense,
yet blind in their devotion to those they confide in, swarmed to his
standard. The Roman Catholic bishop countenanced him, endorsed his
aims, and signalized an official friendliness by accompanying him on a
visit to the Ursuline Convent, and there the son of a Protestant
preacher chatted pleasantly with my lady prioress and her demure nuns.
Burr went everywhere, and wherever he went, he made discreet use of
his opportunity to inquire, to observe, to listen, to make friends and
proselytes. He felt the pulse of public sentiment. Never to any person
did he fully disclose his designs. Without argument or appeal, he
convinced, persuaded, and inflamed the victims of his corrupting
influence. To the avaricious his intimations promised riches; to the
luxurious, pleasure; to those disaffected towards the East, revolt and
secession.
Affairs in the Southwest were unsettled. Only a year and a half had
elapsed since Louisiana had passed into American hands. Jefferson's
land purchase was a current topic of conversation. Opinions differed,
and men hotly discussed the question whether, even if the President
had a constitutional right, he had a moral warrant for saddling upon
the young republic a wild domain, of doubtful value, sparsely
inhabited by Indians and already dedicated, by tradition, to the rule
of an alien, white population. The Spaniard and the Frenchman, sold
and transferred, by one power to another, could not be expected to
submit. The citizens had long yielded willing allegiance to his
Spanish majesty, the emblem of whose sovereignty had been hauled down,
to give place to the tri-color of France; and now that second banner
had disappeared. Though an American governor ruled the district, there
prevailed among the populace a hope and belief, that, after a brief
meteoric display, the red, white and blue, emblazoned with stars,
would fade and vanish from its proud height over the old fort, new
garrisoned by American soldiers. Spanish officers in disguise lingered
in the haunts of their former dignity and sway. They stirred up secret
dissension. They deemed themselves not extinguished, though eclipsed.
Discontent and resistance were in the air. War-clouds hung dark along
the Mexican and Floridan border, rumbling with ominous thunder.
Into this chaos of troubled politics, and conflicting interests, Aaron
Burr came exploring, vigilant to note and sedulous to question. The
sum of the impressions which he received confirmed him in the belief
that the people of the West and Southwest were ready and anxious to
separate their section from the Atlantic States; and he felt convinced
that it would be no trouble "to enlist recruits and make arrangements
for a private expedition against Mexico," especially in case of war
with Spain.
It was the middle of September when, true to his promise, Burr
appeared at St. Louis, in Wilkinson's quarters, to unfold the tale of
his triumph in New Orleans. In the course of his animated narrative,
he said:
"There is an infinite difference between floating down to New Orleans
in your delightful barge, and jogging homeward a thousand miles on
horseback. That interminable stretch of dreary wilderness from Natchez
to Nashville, along the Indian trail, over sandy wastes, through pine
woods, was intolerable. I was glad enough to reach Tennessee and old
Kentucky. The people of Frankfort treated me very handsomely, as did
those of Lexington. I paid my respects to the local idol, the young
Virginia orator and rising lawyer, Henry Clay. That man is a
prodigy--he will make his mark. I wish he were hand in hand with us,
like Jackson, and ready to embark his fortune at our prompting."
"So do I. Clay is a rising power, notwithstanding his conceit. He will
make a stir in Congress some of these days."
"That he will," said Burr, and proceeded with his story, at the close
of which he exclaimed,
"I wish you could attend one of the meetings of the Mexican Society in
New Orleans. Its object is to discuss means of emancipating Mexico.
You should hear, as I have heard, the outspoken discontents of the
creole population. They adore the institution of African slavery. They
hate New England. They will not buy even a Yankee clock if it is
adorned with an image of the Yankee Goddess of Liberty. But they are
_mine_, every mother's son of them, and what is more important, every
father's daughter of them. I took the city by storm, and the outlying
provinces belong to us. We have a people and, virtually, an army. The
moral conquest is complete. When the hour strikes for extending the
borders of our conceded realm, you are the chosen Cæsar."
"Can we depend on David Clarke's co-operation?"
"Why not? His interests are bound up in ours. We have a host of stanch
adherents, in all parts of the country and on the high sea, and in
Europe, soldiers, statesmen, capitalists. I need not name them to you.
All these are to be kept in mind and treated with due consideration.
Our enterprise is in its preliminary stage. The shrewd work of
enlisting recruits must be intrusted to carefully selected captains. I
have the ways and means clearly in my head. Every detail must be
worked out in practice."
"Burr, you are more circumspect than I gave you credit for being.
There is always danger in the dark. Have you entertained the
possibility of defection?"
"I have measured my ground, and calculated the curve of my leap. I
shall not fall into an abyss, or dash myself upon a rock. If we fail
to sever the Union, and do not succeed in the conquest of Mexico, I
have so masked our designs as to make them appear in the guise of
innocent land-speculations on the Wachita river."