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".