stage rolled and jolted along the extremely bad road, Mr. L. and I went
prying about the whole area of the wood, poking our horses' noses into
every thicket and between any two pieces of rock, that we might be sure
not to miss our object, the driver smiling after us whenever he could
spare attention from his own not very easy task of getting his charge
along. With all my attention I could see no precipice, and was
concluding to follow the road without more vagaries, when Mr. L., who
was a little in advance, waved his whip as he stood beside his horse,
and said, "Here is the bridge!" I then perceived that we were nearly
over it, the piled rocks on either hand forming a barrier which prevents
a careless eye from perceiving the ravine which it spans. I turned to
the side of the road, and rose in my stirrup to look over; but I found
it would not do. I went on to the inn, deposited my horse, and returned
on foot to the bridge.
With all my efforts I could not look down steadily into what seemed the
bottomless abyss of foliage and shadow. From every point of the bridge I
tried, and all in vain. I was heated and extremely hungry, and much
vexed at my own weakness. The only way was to go down and look up;
though where the bottom could be was past my imagining, the view from
the top seeming to be of foliage below foliage for ever.
The way to the glen is through a field opposite the inn, and down a
steep, rough, rocky path, which leads under the bridge and a few yards
beyond it. I think the finest view of all is from this path, just before
reaching the bridge. The irregular arch of rock, spanning a chasm of 160
feet in height, and from sixty to ninety in width, is exquisitely tinted
with every shade of gray and brown; while trees encroach from the sides
and overhang from the top, between which and the arch there is an
additional depth of fifty-six feet. It was now early in July; the trees
were in their brightest and thickest foliage; and the tall beeches under
the arch contrasted their verdure with the gray rock, and received the
gilding of the sunshine as it slanted into the ravine, glittering in the
drip from the arch, and in the splashing and tumbling waters of Cedar
Creek, which ran by our feet. Swallows were flying about under the arch.
What others of their tribe can boast of such a home?
We crossed and recrossed the creek on stepping-stones, searching out
every spot to which any tradition belonged. Under the arch, thirty feet
from the water, the lower part of the letters G. W. may be seen carved in
the rock. When Washington was a young man, he climbed up hither, to
leave this record of his visit. There are other inscriptions of the same
kind, and above them a board, on which are painted the names of two
persons, who have thought it worth while thus to immortalize their feat
of climbing highest. But their glory was but transient after all. They
have been outstripped by a traveller whose achievement will probably
never be rivalled, for he would not have accomplished it if he could by
any means have declined the task. Never was a wonderful deed more
involuntarily performed. There is no disparagement to the gentleman in
saying this: it is only absolving him from the charge of foolhardiness.
This young man, named Blacklock, accompanied by two friends, visited the
Natural Bridge, and, being seized with the ambition appropriate to the
place, of writing his name highest, climbed the rock opposite to the
part selected by Washington, and carved his initials. Others had perhaps
seen what Mr. Blacklock overlooked, that it was a place easy to ascend,
but from which it is impossible to come down. He was forty feet or more
from the path; his footing was precarious; he was weary with holding on
while carving his name, and his head began to swim when he saw the
impossibility of getting down again. He called to his companions that
his only chance was to climb up upon the bridge without hesitation or
delay. They saw this, and with anguish agreed between themselves that
the chance was a very bare one. They cheered him, and advised him to
look neither up nor down. On he went, slanting upward from under the
arch, creeping round a projection on which no foothold is visible from
below, and then disappearing in a recess filled up with foliage. Long
and long they waited, watching for motion, and listening for crashing
among the trees. He must have been now 150 feet above them. At length
their eyes were so strained that they could see no more, and they had
almost lost all hope. There was little doubt that he had fallen while
behind the trees, where his body would never be found. They went up to
try the chance of looking for him from above. They found him lying
insensible on the bridge. He could just remember reaching the top, when
he immediately fainted. One would like to know whether the accident
left him a coward in respect of climbing, or whether it strengthened his
confidence in his nerves.
The guide showed us a small cedar, which projected from a shelf of the
rock about two hundred feet above our heads, and along whose stem a
young lady climbed several feet, so as to court destruction in a very
vain and foolish manner. If the support had failed, as might reasonably
have been expected, her immortality of reputation would not have been of
an enviable kind.
We remained in the ravine till we were all exhausted with hunger, but we
had to wait for dinner still another hour after arriving at the inn. By
way of passing the time, one gentleman of our party fainted, and had to
be laid along on the floor; which circumstance, I fancy, rather
accelerated the announcement of our meal. The moment it was over I
hastened to the bridge, and was pleased to find that, being no longer
fatigued and hungry, I could look into the abyss with perfect ease. I
lay down on the rocks, and studied the aspect of the ravine in its
afternoon lights and shadows from five different points of view. While
thus engaged I was called to see a handsome copper-headed snake, but it
had gained its hole before I could reach the spot. We ladies so much
preferred the view of the bridge from the glen to the view of the glen
from the bridge, that we went down for another hour before departing. It
looked most beautiful. The sunshine was slowly withdrawing from under
the arch, and leaving us in the shadows of evening, while all was
glowing like noon in the region to which we looked up from our lowly
seats, the stepping-stones in the midst of the gushing creek.
The Natural Bridge is nearly in the centre of Virginia, and about half
way between Fincastle and Lexington, which are about thirty-seven miles
apart. The main central road of Virginia runs over the bridge, so that
no excuse is left for travellers who neglect to visit this work, framed
by the strong hand of Nature,
"By wondrous art
Pontifical, a ridge of pendant rock
Over the vex'd abyss,"
vexed, not by the tumults of chaos, but by the screams of caverned
birds, the battles of snakes with their prey, and the chafing of waters
against opposing rocks.
COLONEL BURR.
"His extraordinary plans and expectations for himself might be of
such a nature as to depend on other persons for their
accomplishment, and might, therefore, be as extravagant as if other
persons alone had been their object."
--FOSTER'S _Essays_.
The romance of political adventure is generally found to flourish in the
regions of despotism; and it seems a matter of course that there can be
no room for conspiracy in a democratic republic, where each man is a
member of the government, and means are provided for the expression of
every kind of political opinion and desire. Yet the United States can
exhibit a case of conspiracy and a political adventurer such as might
rejoice the souls of the lovers of romance. Scattered notices of Colonel
Aaron Burr and of his supposed schemes are before the English public,
but no connected history which might be depended upon appeared during
his life. He died last year, and has left no relations; so that no
reason now exists why everything that can be learned about him should
not be made known.
In 1795, Aaron Burr had attained to eminence at the New-York Bar. He was
about the same age as Alexander Hamilton, who was born in 1757, and
their professional reputation and practice were about equal. Hamilton
was the leader of the federal party. He was, in countenance, eminently
handsome, in manner engaging, in temper amiable and affectionate, in
eloquence both persuasive and commanding; and his mind was so
comprehensive, and his powers of application and execution so great, as
to cause him to be considered by the federal party the greatest man
their country has produced. Burr was of democratic politics; he had a
fiercely ambitious temper, which he hid under a gentle and seductive
manner. He was usually so quiet and sedate that he might have been
thought indifferent but for the expression of his piercing black eyes.
His face was otherwise plain, and his figure and gait were stooping and
ungraceful. He assumed great authority of manner upon occasion. His
speaking at the bar was brief and to the purpose. His most remarkable
characteristic seems to have been his power of concealment. He not only
carried on a conspiracy before the nation's eyes which they to this day
cannot more or less understand, but lived long years with the tremendous
secret in his breast, and has gone down to the grave without affording
any solution of the mystery. It may be doubted whether, in all the long
private conversations he had with individuals, he ever committed
himself, otherwise than apparently, to anybody. He seems to have been
understood by Hamilton, however, from the beginning, and Hamilton never
concealed his opinion that Burr was an ambitious and dangerous man.
Jefferson put a generous trust in Burr, and for many years they were
intimate correspondents. It is very touching to read, after all that has
since happened, such letters as the following, written shortly after the
two men had been rival candidates for the presidentship, at a time of
unexampled party excitement:--
"TO COLONEL BURR.
"Washington, February 1, 1801.
"Dear Sir--It was to be expected that the enemy would endeavour to
sow tares between us, that they might divide us and our friends.
Every consideration satisfies me that you will be on your guard
against this, as I assure you I am strongly. I hear of one
stratagem so imposing and so base, that it is proper I should
notice it to you. Mr. Munford, who is here, says he saw at New-York
before he left it an original letter of mine to Judge Breckinridge,
in which are sentiments highly injurious to you. He knows my
handwriting, and did not doubt that to be genuine. I enclose you a
copy, taken from a press copy of the only letter I ever wrote to
Judge Breckinridge in my life: the press copy itself has been shown
to several of our mutual friends here. Of consequence, the letter
seen by Mr. Munford must be a forgery; and, if it contains a
sentiment unfriendly or disrespectful to you, I affirm it solemnly
to be a forgery, as also if it varies from the copy enclosed. With
the common trash of slander I should not think of troubling you;
but the forgery of one's handwriting is too imposing to be
neglected. A mutual knowledge of each other furnishes us with the
best test of the contrivances which will be practised by the
enemies of both.
"Accept assurances of my high respect and esteem.
"TH. JEFFERSON."
In the presidential election of 1800 there were four candidates,
Jefferson, Burr, John Adams, and Pinckney. The votes were for Jefferson
73, for Burr 73, for Adams 65, for Pinckney 64. The numbers for
Jefferson and Burr being equal, the choice devolved upon the House of
Representatives, which voted to attend to no other business till the
election was settled, and not to adjourn till the decision was effected.
For seven days and nights the ballotting went on, every member being
present. Some who were ill or infirm were accommodated with beds and
couches, and one sick member was allowed to be attended by his wife.
Adams was, as president, on the spot, watching his impending political
annihilation. Jefferson was at hand, daily presiding in the Senate. Burr
was in the State of New-York, anxiously expecting tidings. The federal
party were in despair at having to choose between two republicans (as
the democratic party was at that day called). It is said that Hamilton
was consulted by his party, and that his advice was to choose Jefferson
rather than Burr: a piece of counsel which affected the everlasting
destinies of the country, and cost the counsellor his life. At the end
of the seven days Jefferson was elected president and Burr
vice-president, which office Burr held for a single term, four years.
In the winter of 1804 Burr was proposed at Albany as a candidate for the
office of Governor of the State of New-York. Hamilton, at a public
meeting of his party, strongly opposed the nomination, declaring that he
would never join in supporting such a candidate. About this time Dr.
Chas. D. Cooper wrote a letter, in which he said "General Hamilton
and ---- have declared in substance that they looked upon Mr. Burr as a
dangerous man, and one who ought not to be trusted with the reins of
government." "I could detail to you a still more despicable opinion
which General Hamilton has expressed of Mr. Burr." This letter was
published; and on the 18th of June, 1804, Burr sent a copy of it to
Hamilton, with a demand that the expressions it contained should be
acknowledged or denied. The correspondence which ensued is discreditable
to both parties. To use the expression of a great man, "Hamilton went
into it like a Capuchin." He knew that it was Burr's determination to
fix a deadly quarrel upon him; he knew that Burr was an unworthy
adversary; he disapproved of the practice of duelling, but he feared the
imputation of want of courage if he refused to meet his foe. He
therefore explained and corresponded with an amplitude and indecision
which expose his reputation to more danger from harsh judges than a
refusal to fight would have done. As for Burr, he was savage in his
pursuit of his enemy. He enlarged his accusations and demands as he saw
the irresolution of his victim; and I believe there is no doubt that,
though he was a good shot before, he employed the interval of twenty
days which elapsed before the duel took place in firing at a mark,
making no secret of the purpose of his practising.
This interval was occasioned by Hamilton's refusal to go out till the
Circuit Court, in the business of which he was engaged, should have
closed its sittings. The Court rose on Friday, the 6th of July, and Burr
received notice that General Hamilton would be ready at any time after
the following Sunday.
On Wednesday morning, the 11th, the parties crossed the Hudson to the
Jersey shore, arriving on the ground at seven o'clock. Burr was attended
by Mr. Van Ness and a surgeon; Hamilton by Mr. Pendleton and Dr. Hosack.
It was Hamilton's intention not to fire; but when his adversary's ball
struck him on the right side, he raised himself involuntarily on his
toes, and turned a little to the left, his pistol going off with the
movement. He observed to his physician, "This is a mortal wound,
doctor," and then became insensible. He revived, however, in the boat,
in the course of removal home, and cautioned his attendants about the
pistol, which he was not aware of having discharged. He lived in great
agony till two o'clock of the following day.
He left a paper which contained his statement of reasons for meeting
Burr, notwithstanding his conscientious disapproval of the practice of
duelling, and his particular desire to avoid an encounter with such an
adversary, and in such a cause as the present. In this paper he declares
his resolution to reserve and throw away his first fire, and perhaps his
second. His reasons for fighting are now, I believe, generally agreed to
be unsatisfactory. As to the effect of his determination to spare his
adversary, I never could learn that Colonel Burr expressed the slightest
regret for the pertinacity with which he hunted such an enemy--merely a
political foe--to death. Neither did he appear to feel the execration
with which he was regarded in the region of which Hamilton had been the
pride and ornament.
To avoid the legal consequences of his deed he wandered into the West,
and remained so long in retreat that some passing wonder was excited as
to what he could be doing there. He was ensnaring more victims.
In the Ohio river, a few miles below Marietta, there is a beautiful
island, finely wooded, but now presenting a dismal picture of ruin. This
island was purchased, about thirty-five years ago, by an Irish
gentleman, named Herman Blennerhassett, whose name the island has since
borne. This gentleman took his beautiful and attached wife to his new
property, and their united tastes made it such an abode as was never
before and has never since been seen in the United States. Shrubberies,
conservatories, and gardens ornamented the island, and within doors
there was a fine library, philosophical apparatus, and music-room. Burr
seems to have been introduced to this family by some mutual friends at
the East, and to have been received as a common acquaintance at first.
The intimacy grew; and the oftener he went to Blennerhassett's Island,
and the longer he stayed, the deeper was the gloom which overspread the
unfortunate family. Blennerhassett himself seems to have withdrawn his
interest from his children, his books, his pursuits, as Burr obtained
influence over his mind, and poisoned it with some dishonest ambition.
The wife's countenance grew sad and her manners constrained. It is not
known how far she was made acquainted with what was passing between her
husband and Burr.
The object of Burr's conspiracy remains as much a mystery as ever, while
there is no doubt whatever of its existence. Some suppose that he
intended to possess himself of Mexico, an enterprise less absurd than at
first sight it appears. There was great hatred towards the Mexicans at
that period, the period of agitation about the acquisition of Louisiana;
thousands of citizens were ready to march down upon Mexico on any
pretence; and it is certain that Burr was so amply provided with funds
from some unknown quarter, that he had active adherents carrying on his
business from the borders of Maine all down the course of the great
Western rivers. Another supposition is, that he designed the plunder of
New-Orleans in the event of a war with Spain. A more probable one is
that he proposed to found a great Western Empire, with the aid of Spain,
making himself its emperor, and drawing off the allegiance of all the
countries west of the Alleghanies; and, finally, that, as a cover to and
final substitute for other designs, he meant to effect the colonization
of the banks of the river Washita. Such are the various objects assigned
as the end of Burr's movements: but all that is known is that he engaged
a number of men in his service--supposed to be not less than a
thousand--under an assurance that the service required of them was one
approved by the government; that he endeavoured to persuade Latrobe, the
architect, to engage five hundred more labourers on pretext of their
working on the Ohio canal, in which it turned out that he had no
interest; that a guard was mounted round Blennerhassett's Island; that
boats, manned and furnished with arms, set forth from the island on the
night of the 10th of December, 1806; that they were joined by Burr, with
a re-enforcement, at the mouth of the Cumberland; and that they all
proceeded down the Mississippi together.
The government had become aware of secret meetings between Burr, the
Spanish Yruyo, and Dr. Bollman, one of the liberators of Lafayette; and
the proper time was seized for putting forth proclamations which
undeceived the people with regard to Burr's movements, and caused them
to rise against him wherever he had been acting. Orders to capture him
and his party, and, if necessary, to destroy his boats, were eagerly
received. Burr did not venture to New-Orleans. He caused himself to be
put ashore in the territory of Mississippi, and thence found his way,
attended by only one person, to the banks of the Tombigbee, which he
reached on the 19th of February, 1807. At eleven at night the wanderers
passed a settlement called Washington Courthouse: Burr preceded his
companion by some yards, and passed on quietly; but his companion
inquired of a man standing at the door of a public house about the
dwelling of a Major Hinson, and, on receiving his answer, joined Burr.
The person inquired of went to Hinson's with the sheriff, and had his
suspicions so confirmed, that he proceeded to Fort Stoddart, and brought
back an officer and four soldiers, who took Burr into custody. He was
lodged, a prisoner, at Richmond, Virginia, by the end of March.
Burr had previously been brought to trial in Kentucky, on an accusation
of illegal secret practices in that state. He was defended and brought
off by Mr. Clay and Colonel Allen, who were persuaded of his innocence,
and refused a fee. Mr. Clay was for long after his advocate in public
and in private, and asked him, for friendly purposes, for a full
declaration that he was innocent, which Burr gave unhesitatingly and
explicitly, and the note is now among Jefferson's papers. When, some
time subsequently, a letter of Burr's in cipher came to light, Mr. Clay
found how he had been deceived; but his advocacy was, for the time, of
great benefit to Burr.
On the 17th of August Burr was brought to trial at Richmond before
Chief-justice Marshall. He was charged with having excited insurrection,
rebellion, and war, on the 10th of December, 1806, at Blennerhassett's
Island, in Virginia. Secondly, the same charge was repeated, with the
addition of a traitorous intention of taking possession of the city of
New-Orleans with force and arms. The evidence established everything but
the precise charge. The presence of Burr in the island was proved, and
his levies of men and provisions on the banks of the Ohio. The presence
of armed men in the island and the expedition of the 10th of December
were also proved, but not any meeting of these men with Burr. The proof
of the overt act completely failed. He was then tried at the same court
on an indictment for misdemeanour, and acquitted. He was then ordered to
be committed to answer an indictment in the State of Ohio. He was
admitted to bail, and it does not appear that the State of Ohio meddled
with him at all.
Bollman was one of the witnesses on the side of the prosecution. His
certificate of pardon was offered to him in court by the counsel for the
prosecution. He refused to accept it, but was sworn, and his evidence
received.
It is impossible to suppose any bias on the part of the court in favour
of the prisoner. His acquittal seems to have arisen from unskilfulness
in deducing the charges from the evidence, and to the trial having taken
place before all the requisite evidence could be gathered from distant
regions.
Blennerhassett and others were tried on the same charges as Burr; but
what became of them I do not remember, farther than that Blennerhassett
was utterly ruined and disgraced.
Burr repaired to England. His connexion with Bentham appears wholly
unaccountable. The story is that he was in a bookseller's shop one day
when Bentham entered, and fixed his observation; that he wrote a letter
to Bentham as soon as he was gone, expressive of his high admiration of
his works; that Bentham admitted him to an interview, invited him to
stay with him, and urged the prolongation of his visit from time to
time, till it ended in being a sojourn of two years. It is difficult to
conceive how an agreeable intercourse could be kept up for so long a
time between the single-minded philosopher and the crafty yet boastful,
the vindictive yet smooth political adventurer.
In October, 1808, Jefferson wrote to a friend,
"Burr is in London, and is giving out to his friends that that
government offers him two millions of dollars the moment he can raise an
ensign of rebellion as big as a handkerchief. Some of his partisans will
believe this because they wish it. But those who know him best will not
believe it the more because he says it."[2] He returned to America in
1812, being sent away from England on account of his too frequent and
very suspicious political correspondence with France.