THE RIVALS: 
 
 O IT THE TI3VIES 
 
 OF 
 
 AAEON BUEE, 
 
 ALEXANDER HAMILTON 
 
 BY 
 
 HON. JERE. CLEMENS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BERNARD LILE" AND "MUSTANG GRAY. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 1860. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
C 
 
 COLONEL JOHN HEAD, 
 
 MY DEAR SIR: 
 
 IN dedicating this volume to you, I have not been influenced by 
 the high character and stern integrity of conduct which have 
 marked a long and useful life. Nor even by the consideration 
 that you are the father of that dear wife who has been to me a 
 solace and a support in every trial and every sorrow which have 
 come upon me. It is a tribute rather to domestic virtues to the 
 kind and genial nature which makes your fireside the abode of 
 happiness, and consecrates the domestic circle to home enjoyments. 
 
 In you, a green and healthy old age has followed a youth of 
 industry and virtue; while your heart, instead of hardening by 
 contact with the world, has grown more gentle with advancing 
 years, and CHARITY, the great virtue of the Apostle, abideth ever 
 more within it. May your days be long in the land, and may my 
 last years of life resemble yours. 
 
 JERE. CLEMENS. 
 1* 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IN the preparation of this work I did not confine myself to 
 the life of Aaron Burr, as written either by Davis or Parton. 
 Both are unjust to him Parton least so. But even he, while 
 writing with an evident desire to do justice, approaches the 
 subject with a degree of timid hesitation which proves that he 
 dreaded to encounter the tide of undeserved reprobation which 
 is yet beating against the tomb of the illustrious dead. The 
 work of Matthew L. Davis is a libel upon the man he professed 
 to honor, and whom he called his friend in life. I went beyond 
 these and collected many old pamphlets and documents relating 
 to Burr and Hamilton, and endeavored to extract from them 
 enough of the truth to enable me to form a just estimate of the 
 characters of both. That estimate once formed, the book was 
 made to correspond with it, the main historical facts alone 
 being preserved, while all the rest is the offspring of imagina 
 tion. 
 
 The history of the war proves conclusively that there was no 
 better soldier, or more devoted patriot, in the long list of revo 
 lutionary heroes, than Aaron Burr ; and all contemporary testi 
 mony agrees that no man ever lived of a more genial, hospitable, 
 and kindly nature. Yet this man, unsurpassed as a soldier, 
 unrivaled as a lawyer, pure, upright, and untarnished as a states 
 man, became, from the force of circumstances, the object of the 
 
 (Yin 
 
Vlil P B E F A C E. 
 
 bitterest calumnies that malice could invent or the blindest 
 prejudice could believe. Persecution dogged him to his grave; 
 and, although the life of a generation has passed away since 
 then, justice still hesitates to approach the spot where the bones 
 of the patriot-soldier repose. Under the garb of fiction, I have 
 endeavored to contribute my mite toward relieving his memory 
 from the unjust aspersions which imbittered his life. If I 
 accomplish nothing more than to induce a portion of the rising 
 generation to search the records of that life, I shall be amply 
 repaid for the labor it has cost. 
 
 Of Alexander Hamilton I have written nothing of which I 
 do not believe he was capable, after the fullest examination 
 of his own writings and those of others. That I have enter 
 tained strong prejudices against him from boyhood, is true; 
 that those prejudices may have influenced my judgment, is 
 possible ; but I tried to discard them, and look at his character 
 in the light of reason alone. The more I studied it, the more 
 I became convinced that the world never presented such a 
 combination of greatness and of meanness, of daring courage 
 and of vile malignity, of high aspirings and of low hypocrisy. 
 Shrewd, artful, and unscrupulous, there were no means he 
 would not employ to accomplish his ends no tool too base to 
 be used when its services were needful. Loose in his own 
 morals, even to licentiousness, he criticised those of Thomas 
 Jefferson with a severity no other antagonist ever equaled. 
 Slander was his favorite w r eapon, and no one stood in his way 
 who did not feel the venom of his tongue and pen. 
 
 All that part of the work now submitted to the public, which 
 is not history, is based upon these views of the characters 
 of the principal actors, and wherever I have trusted to imagin 
 ation, its flight has been restrained within the boundaries 
 of what I believed each to be capable. 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 The causes which led me to write this book, and the objects 
 I had in view, other than those stated, are of no concern to 
 the public. It has been composed, for the most part, in the 
 midst of many and pressing engagements, and the last part 
 of it was not even read over before it was sent to the pub 
 lishers ; but I ask no charity on that account. The critic is at 
 full liberty to exhaust his powers of satire upon it ; and, so far 
 from being offended at the freedom of his strictures, I will 
 thank him for pointing out defects which I may thus, learn to 
 amend in future. 
 
 It is my purpose to continue the story of Aaron Burr, from 
 the time of his duel with Hamilton to that of his death. The 
 last days of that remarkable man, it seems to me, present a 
 better field for romance than his earlier career. At all events, 
 it is one that is yet untrodden, and therefore possesses an 
 interest in itself which may cause the reader to overlook any 
 deficiency of plot or any faults of style that would otherwise 
 challenge his criticism. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
AAEON BURR. 
 
 BY FRANK LEE BENEDICT. 
 
 AT, come to the grave where they laid him to sleep, 
 And left him in shame s mocking silence so long; 
 
 The hard and the haughty may now pause to weep, 
 To pity his errors and call back the wrong. 
 
 The world s bitter scorn hath so heavily lain, 
 And cast down its night on his desolate tomb 
 
 At least let the broad-visioned Present refrain, 
 Nor scatter the ashes that lie in the gloom. 
 
 The spirit of vengeance hath followed the dead, 
 And deepened the shadows that slander hath cast ; 
 
 Ah ! sweep back the mists which have shrouded his bed ; 
 That the starlight may fall on his bosom at last. 
 
 Remember the anguish, the sorrow, the grief, 
 The long years of exile, of darkness and woe ; 
 
 The swift-fading sunlight, the glory so brief, 
 And weep o er the grandeur forsaken and low. 
 
 The genius that dazzled the eagle-like mind, 
 The passionate heart which still led them astray, 
 
 The greatest of earth in its mists wand ring blind, 
 The spirit of fire shackled down by the clay. 
 
 Oh, think of the age that came on in its night, 
 
 Aiid flung down its snow on his greatness o erthrown; 
 
 Wrecked, wrecked on the ocean no haven in sight, 
 His bark going down in the tempest alone. 
 
 Ah, leave him to slumber, nor, blind in your rage, 
 
 Still desecrate ashes which lie in repose; 
 But stamp a new record on history s page, 
 
 That tells of his virtues and numbers his woes. 
 
 Let the mosses that cling o er the waste of his grave, 
 Be types of the tribute which soften his name ; 
 
 Like the fragrance of blossoms that over him wave, 
 The thought of his sorrows shall brighten his fame. 
 
 The debt should be sacred! Oh, leave him to rest, 
 Nor trample in scorn on the prayer-hallowed sod; 
 
 The green turf is holy that covers his breast 
 Give his faults to the Past leave his soul to his God. 
 
 (xi) 
 
THE RIVALS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "A world lay moveless on wide ocean s breast 
 In sleep profound reposed the mighty West 
 An age of ages lonely, wild, immense, 
 The ginnt wonder of Omnipotence. 
 From sacred hills no fragrant incense rose ; 
 Vast, dreary deserts lowered on trackless snows, 
 And silence reigned, save when the savage yoll 
 Waked shuddering echo from her viewless cell." 
 
 IN the year 1486, a stranger appeared at the splendid 
 court of Ferdinand and Isabella. His garb was that of 
 one whose circumstances did not admit of any display, but 
 his bearing was as lofty as that of the proudest grandee 
 of Spain. Heroes themselves, and tracing back their de 
 scent from a long line of heroic ancestors, the nobles of 
 Spain were at that day the haughtiest in Europe ; yet the 
 poor sailor moved among them unawed and unabashed. 
 His patent of nobility was conferred by the Sovereign of 
 sovereigns. Genius stood by at his birth, and crowned 
 the infant in his cradle for immortality. The deep enthu 
 siasm of his character; the vast knowledge he had accu 
 mulated ; and, above all, the unmistakable sincerity of his 
 zeal for the church, captivated the pious queen, whose pre 
 judices were soon enlisted in behalf of the Genoese, and 
 whose clear judgment readily comprehended the possibility 
 of success in the mighty undertaking to which he had come 
 to urge the sovereigns of Aragon and Castile. The king 
 
 2 13 
 
14 THE RIVALS. 
 
 turned a colder ear to his pleading. Granada was still held 
 by the Moors, and the stars of the Crescent still floated 
 above the palace of the Alhambra. Anxious as the queen 
 was to aid in carrying out the conceptions of the great 
 navigator, she could find no sufficient answer to the argu 
 ments of her politic husband, who insisted that the safety 
 of their united kingdoms imperatively demanded the re- 
 conquest of Granada, and that the most acceptable service 
 they could render to God would be to drive the followers 
 of a false religion from the land they had obtained by 
 violence and desecrated by idolatry. Years went by. The 
 conquest of the Moors had been achieved, and the Prophet 
 was no longer worshiped in Granada. The long contest, 
 however, had exhausted the treasury, and the cautious 
 Ferdinand found in the poverty of the exchequer a new 
 answer to the solicitations of his queen. At length, the 
 high-hearted Isabella, fully alive to the glory of so grand 
 an enterprise, proposed to pledge her jewels to raise the 
 requisite amount. From the mortification of this step she 
 was saved by the generosity of one of her subjects. San- 
 tangel advanced the money, and on the 3d day of August, 
 1492, three little vessels set sail from the insignificant port 
 of Palos, upon a voyage whose stupendous results are 
 even yet undeveloped. On the night of the eleventh of 
 October, land was discovered, and on the twelfth, Christo 
 pher Columbus set foot upon an unknown world that had 
 for ages slumbered between the waters of the Atlantic and 
 the Pacific. 
 
 The brilliant success of the Genoese stimulated other 
 nations, and adventurer after adventurer crossed the seas 
 in search of undiscovered lands. The continent of North 
 America was repeatedly visited by the English, but no 
 permanent settlement was attempted until the year 1GOT, 
 when a colony was established at Jamestown. The 
 
THE RIVALS. 15 
 
 next settlement was at Plymouth in 1620, by a band of 
 pilgrims, numbering one hundred and one. Between these 
 emigrants and the Spanish conquerors further south there 
 was a wide difference of character, and a still wider differ-* 
 ence in the objects sought to be attained. The Spaniard 
 made his way by fire and sword. Impelled by the love of 
 gold, he set his armed heel on the naked breasts of mil 
 lions; desolated provinces, and annihilated empires without 
 pity or remorse. The English, on the other hand, came as 
 tillers of the soil. Actuated by a sincere and fervent piety, 
 they sought a home where persecution for opinion s sake 
 was unknown, and where they might bend the knee to God, 
 unshackled by these legal restraints, which, to them, seemed 
 little less than blasphemy. In the heart, as well as upon 
 the lips of every one, there abided a holy zeal for the reli 
 gion they had embraced, and for which they abandoned 
 the comforts and luxuries of civilized life for a dreary 
 abode in the dark wilderness of the West. Night and 
 morning their orisons ascended to Him who holds the winds 
 in the hollow of his hand. Night and morning they re 
 peated the solemn anthem, 
 
 "Be Thou our guard and guide ! 
 Forth from the spoiler s synagogue we go, 
 That we may worship where the torrents flow, 
 
 And where the whirlwinds ride." 
 
 Peaceful in their inclinations avaricious neither of gold 
 nor extended dominion, there was yet among them a read 
 iness to repel violence by violence, and a contemptuous dis 
 regard of danger in every form, that soon impressed upon 
 their savage neighbors the advantage of cultivating the 
 most friendly relations. Their descendants, born in the 
 wilderness, inherited the virtues of their sires, and acquired 
 from their pursuits a deeper aversion to restraint. Accus- 
 
16 THE RIVALS. 
 
 tomed to liberty, the slightest pressure of a yoke was in 
 tolerable, and they instinctively grasped their rifles at the 
 bare mention of an illegal exaction. Such was the origin, 
 and such the character of the men from whom the mate 
 rials of this story have been drawn. 
 
 Gradually they grew in numbers and in wealth. Art 
 and science brought their gifts to lay upon the altar of the 
 infant empire, and along the whole belt of the Atlantic 
 coast the dreary forest was metamorphosed into a smiling 
 garden. Hitherto neglected by the mother country, the 
 colonies now became a subject of earnest debate in the 
 Cabinet and Parliament of Britain. The interest thus 
 manifested would have been commendable if it had been 
 based upon a parental solicitude for these young commu 
 nities, instead of a sordid calculation of pounds, shillings, 
 and pence. The amount of taxation they were able to 
 bear, and the form in which these taxes should be imposed, 
 were the subjects of inquiry. As early as 1155 a resolu 
 tion passed the British Parliament, asserting the right to 
 lay stamp-duties in America. The right thus asserted was 
 permitted to slumber until 17G5, when it was for the first 
 time embodied in a law. The repeal of this statute in the 
 following year, and its re-enactment during the year after 
 wards, exhibit a degree of vacillation that must be attri 
 buted to a consciousness of wrong. Year after year the 
 disputes between Britain and her colonies became more 
 acrimonious, until the month of April, 1775, when the bat 
 tles of Lexington and Concord put an end to all hope of 
 a peaceful accommodation. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Amid the ancient forests of a land, 
 Wild, gloomy, vast, magnificently grand." 
 
 AT the period to which we have brought the reader, 
 there was a slender and delicate boy residing in the family 
 of his brother-in-law, in the town of Litchfield, Connec 
 ticut, almost wholly unknown beyond the circle of his im 
 mediate friends and relatives, and scarcely appreciated at 
 his jusit value even by them. Left an orphan while he was 
 yet in his nurse s arms, he became the inheritor of a con 
 siderable estate, and the baneful privilege of regulating his 
 conduct according to the bent of his own inclinations. At 
 the early age of sixteen, he graduated at Princeton Col 
 lege, in his native State, and soon afterwards devoted him 
 self to the study of history particularly those portions 
 which detailed the achievements of the great military com 
 manders who had from time to time played their busy parts 
 upon, the theater of the world. Even at that day he fore 
 saw that a period was at hand when his country would 
 need all the knowledge thus acquired, and shaped his 
 studies in accordance with the dictates of patriotism. Too 
 young to take any part in the discussions to which the 
 alarming enactments of the British Parliament gave rise, 
 he yet made himself familiar with all the points of the 
 controversy, and his resolution to peril life and fortune in 
 the cause of the colonists was the result of a deliberate 
 conviction that justice was on their side. The battle of 
 Lexington, followed in less than two months by that of 
 Bunker s Hill, hurried him away to Cambridge, where the 
 
 2* (It) 
 
18 THE RIVALS. 
 
 American army was then encamped. Possessing all the 
 theoretical knowledge necessary to make an accomplished 
 soldier, he was wholly without experience, and the high 
 idea he had formed of the order and discipline essential 
 in an army were grievously shocked by the license of the 
 raw militia, upon whom the colonies chiefly depended to 
 carry them successfully through a bloody contest with the 
 mightiest empire of Europe. AY hat such troops can ac 
 complish when animated by an ardent love of liberty is 
 even yet a mystery to the mere tactician ; and it is not to 
 be wondered at, that, at a time when regular armies alone 
 decided the fate of nations, a youth like Aaron Burr should 
 have indulged in gloomy forebodings, when forced to wit 
 ness the idleness, confusion, and dissipation that pervaded 
 every rank of the early Continental troops. Their courage, 
 their energy, and their patriotism he knew to be unquestion 
 able ; but, reasoning from the result of military operations 
 in former times, his heart sickened at the conviction that 
 these high qualities might serve no other purpose than to 
 give a bloodier character to the struggle. So great was 
 his mental disquietude at the total want of subordination 
 and training among the men, that shortly after his arrival 
 in camp he was stretched upon a sick bed, and for the first 
 time in his life suffered for the want of those physical comforts 
 that wealth is generally able to purchase for the invalid. 
 
 The career of the soldier is a hard one at best. The 
 daily drillings, long marches, incessant fatigue duties, and 
 often hunger and thirst, are but a portion of the evils 
 he has to encounter. When the body sinks, as it some 
 times must, under these heavy assaults, he is thrown into a 
 hospital, surrounded by a hundred groaning comrades, as 
 if to add to his sufferings, by compelling him to witness 
 the agonies of his friends. \Yhen an army is in the field, 
 these hospitals are nothing more than large tents, where 
 
THE RIVALS. 19 
 
 the men are placed upon beds of blankets, in long rows, 
 through which the surgeon passes once or twice a day, 
 making hasty prescriptions as he goes, that the hospital 
 steward administers or not according to his own conve 
 nience. There was enough in this beginning to have 
 damped the ardor of a less enthusiastic patriot; but so 
 far from any wavering in the cause in which he had em 
 barked, Burr seemed only to gather a fresher determina 
 tion to endure all, and peril all for his country. In a few 
 days he exhibited to his astonished comrades one of those 
 remarkable instances of the mastery of mind over matter 
 of the mental over the physical man, which sometimes 
 astonishes the disciple of -^Esculapius. Tossing on a 
 feverish bed, he overheard a conversation between two 
 officers of his acquaintance, from which he gathered the fact 
 that Benedict Arnold was preparing an expedition for the 
 invasion of Canada and the capture of Quebec. The 
 news acted like healing medicine on his debilitated frame, 
 and, rising from his bed, he announced his purpose to join 
 the expedition. Remonstrances were in vain. The com 
 mands, and then the entreaties of his uncle and guardian, 
 were alike in vain. All the kindly arguments of friends 
 and relations were answered in a spirit equally kind ; but 
 his determination was unshaken. 
 
 "You are not well enough to leave your room," urged 
 his physician. 
 
 "I will be to-morrow," was the reply. 
 
 He did leave it. By a mere effort of will he shook off 
 disease as a loose garment, and, enfeebled and emaciated 
 as he was, went forth to brave hardships and dangers 
 from which the stoutest frame and the boldest heart might 
 have shrunk without disgrace. 
 
 In the early days of the French Revolution, when courier 
 after courier was arriving at Paris with the news of some 
 
20 THE RIVALS. 
 
 fortress taken by the enemy or some battle lost, instead of 
 yielding to despondency, the National Assembly resolved 
 "that the armies of France shall win victories." The 
 nations of Europe laughed at the seeming folly of the re 
 solution, but their smiles were soon changed to tears. The 
 soldiery read it at first with astonishment, and then with 
 enthusiasm. They, too, resolved to win victories, and from 
 that day triumph after triumph gilded the banners of France 
 until a whole continent trembled at her frown. So in indi 
 vidual life, more- than half our battles for existence are won 
 by courage and determination alone. Many more victims 
 have been destroyed by fear, or rather weakness, than by 
 all the diseases, combined, to which the human system is 
 subject. There is an Eastern story which represents a 
 countryman meeting the Evil Spirit and entering into 
 conversation with him : 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked the countryman. 
 
 "I am going to the city," was the reply, "to destroy ten 
 thousand of its inhabitants." 
 
 Six months afterwards they again met. The country 
 man reproached him, saying: 
 
 " Thou lying Spirit, thou didst say thou wert going to 
 the city to destroy ten thousand of its inhabitants, whereas 
 thou didst slay sixty thousand." 
 
 "Not so, my friend," was the reply. "I killed my ten 
 thousand only. Fear destroyed the remainder." 
 
 The fable was founded upon a deep knowledge of the 
 wonderful organization of man. Hundreds, to whom me 
 dical science brought no relief, have risen from the brink 
 of the grave simply because they were determined not to 
 die. Aaron Burr, who had never been blessed with robust 
 health, and who was then suffering from the effects of recent 
 fever, took his place by the side of the rough frontier men, 
 to whom hardship had been a familar companion from in- 
 
THE RIVALS. 21 
 
 fancy, and the strongest among them was equaled in iron 
 endurance by the stripling boy. 
 
 On the twentieth of September, Arnold s command sailed 
 from Newburyport to the mouth of the Kennebec, where 
 they found a number of light batteaux prepared to aid 
 their ascent of the stream. River and forest were alike 
 unknown to the desperate adventurers. The hum of com 
 merce had never been heard upon the waters of the one, 
 nor the footprints of civilized man pressed the rich mold 
 that had been gathering for centuries beneath the dark 
 shadows of the other. Stretching far away to the St. 
 Lawrence were thicket and brake ; the stunted undergrowth, 
 and the lofty tree, presented their rough barriers to the 
 advance of the troops, and exacted a heavy toll in toil and 
 suffering from the worn and wearied soldiery. Onward, 
 stiil onward, through snow and ice; through the dense 
 shadows that the noonday sun had never brightened, that 
 patriot band pressed upon their desperate errand. After 
 a time the natural difficulties of a march through the pierc 
 ing sleet and the pathless forest were increased by another 
 and a mightier foe. Gaunt hunger brought its troops of 
 gnawing demons, to wither the strength and crush the 
 spirit that danger and fatigue had failed to conquer. Boat 
 after boat, containing the provisions and ammunition of 
 the little army, was lost among the unknown rapids and 
 dangerous obstructions of the stream. Hitherto the men 
 had marched along the bank, drawing occasional supplies 
 from the boats, but they had now reached a point where it 
 was necessary to strike into the forest ; and, as they were 
 destitute of a transportation train, the little provision that 
 was left was abandoned. The presence of so large a body 
 frightened the game to more distant haunts. The cold 
 and the snow had driven the feathered tribe to their shel 
 tered nests, and silence, deep and dread, brooded ov<>r the 
 
22 THE RIVALS. 
 
 gloomy wilderness. A few dogs had accompanied their 
 masters on the expedition. A few reptiles were discovered 
 on the march. This was their loathsome food, and when 
 it was exhausted, other expedients were resorted to. Amid 
 all these trials, the boy-volunteer, who had been raised in 
 the lap of luxury, accustomed to the most delicate fare 
 and to pillows of the softest down, bore up with a degree 
 of cheerful firmness which was long afterwards the subject 
 of wondering comment among his surviving comrades. 
 
 " Come," he said on one occasion to Matthias Ogden, 
 afterwards a colonel in the revolutionary array, "come, 
 Mat, to my camp-fire to-night and partake of my supper." 
 Supposing that he had really something to eat, Ogden 
 gladly accepted the invitation, and, at the appointed time, 
 was punctual in his attendance. He found Burr engaged 
 in boiling something in an old tin bucket, over a huge 
 wood fire, which, on inspection, turned out to be the top 
 of one of his boots. " Let us eat," he remarked, in a cheer 
 ful tone, when he judged the cooking process had been 
 sufficiently prolonged to extract whatever of substance the 
 tough leather contained. "We have both partaken of 
 more savory suppers, but no French cook will ever invent 
 a seasoning for his soup to equal the relish that starva 
 tion gives to this filthy slop." 
 
 On another occasion, while trudging along by the side 
 of a sturdy backwoodsman, cheering and encouraging the 
 men, who were drooping under the weight of privations 
 whose termination they could not see, he observed the eyes 
 of the soldier following his movements with wondering 
 astonishment. 
 
 "How does it happen, Mr. Burr," at length he said, 
 "that you are the most cheerful man among us, when a few 
 days ago I would have sworn that ten such striplings as 
 you are would have perished if called upon to endure one- 
 half I can undergo?" 
 
THE RIVALS. 23 
 
 "You would have been right, Crosby, in one respect at 
 least.- If we were required to dig trenches, throw up 
 breast-works, or perform any other duty demanding the 
 exercise of physical strength, I should sink from exhaus 
 tion before you would begin to feel the effects of fatigue. 
 From early boyhood I accustomed myself to long and 
 tiresome walks, and believing that it would facilitate the 
 acquisition of knowledge, I adopted and rigidly adhered 
 to the rule of living on the smallest possible quantity of 
 food ; so that the ills we are now suffering are precisely 
 those I am best fitted to bear. Let me add, too, that there 
 is a great deal in a firm resolution to drive away every ap 
 proach to despondency. Try it. I am sure the happiest 
 effects will follow." 
 
 "I have tried it," was the reply, "and it does not ease 
 the pangs of hunger." 
 
 That night Crosby complained of great drowsiness, and, 
 as soon as the fire was lighted, stretched himself on his 
 blanket before the cheerful blaze. There was nothing to 
 eat, and Burr soon followed his example. Sleep, the 
 sweet sleep which is almost always the reward of toil and 
 temperance, fell upon him. No fearful dream disturbed his 
 repose. No nightmare warned him that man s most dreaded 
 foe was crouching by his side. The morning reveille roused 
 him from his long repose, and he shuddered to find his arm 
 encircling a lifeless corpse. The strong man had passed 
 away. The sinewy frame had withered at the touch of 
 hunger ; and his boy-comrade, dragging the cold body a 
 little ways off, spread his blanket over it, heaped upon that 
 a mound of snow and ice, and left him to his cold and 
 lonely sleep in the gloomy woods. 
 
 Thus day after day rolled off, until, at the end of a little 
 more than seven weeks, the gaunt and famine-stricken rem 
 nant of that gallant troop caught sight of the battlements 
 
24 THE RIVALS. 
 
 of Quebec. They had performed a march unparalleled in 
 the annals of the world. One-half of their number had 
 perished by the way, and the hollow cheeks and sunken 
 eyes of the remainder told a terrible tale of suffering no 
 pen is adequate to record. 
 
 In sight of Quebec, Arnold made a careful inspection of 
 his command, and even that daring leader, who rushed to 
 battle as the tiger rushes to its bloody banquet, was forced 
 to abandon the idea of an immediate assault upon the 
 enemy s works with the spectral forms about him. To 
 communicate with General Montgomery, and obtain his 
 co-operation, was the only course. It would be honor 
 enough for that remnant of an army, originally only eleven 
 hundred strong, to maintain its position until succor ar 
 rived. 
 
 To open a communication with Montgomery, it was ne 
 cessary that the agent selected for that purpose should 
 traverse one hundred and twenty miles of a territory 
 peopled by foes whose vigilance was aroused, and whose 
 fears were excited to the utmost by the appearance of a 
 hostile army from a wilderness hitherto deemed impassable. 
 Aaron Burr was selected by his commander as the one best 
 fitted for the task. Heretofore he had given unmistakable 
 evidence of courage, firmness, and endurance. Now he 
 was called upon for the exercise of higher qualities self- 
 composure, tact, skill, and sagacity ; these, and these alone, 
 could avail him. Disguising himself in the coarse robes of 
 a Catholic priest, he went directly to a convent of the order 
 of St. Francis, and, knocking at the gates, demanded ad 
 mittance and shelter from the peltings of the pitiless storm 
 that was raging without. The shades of night had fallen 
 upon the earth; the air was filled with flakes of snow ; and 
 this, together with the cowl drawn closely about his head, 
 effectually concealed his features from the prying gaze of the 
 
THE RIVALS. 25 
 
 servitors who answered his summons at the gate. What 
 ever may be said of the Catholic clergy in other respects, 
 it is certain that the duties of hospitality are among the 
 last they have ever been known to neglect. The doors of 
 their religious houses, in all ages and in all countries, have 
 been open to the weary and heavy laden. Nowhere and 
 at no time have hunger and suffering appealed to them in 
 vain. The young priest, as he was supposed to be, was 
 ushered to the private room of the Superior, and all the 
 convent could supply of refreshments was ordered for his 
 use, before a question was asked as to his name, his busi 
 ness, or his destination. After the grateful meal was 
 concluded, and the attendants had left the apartment, the 
 Superior for the first time manifested a desire to learn 
 something more of his guest than that he was a tired and 
 a hungry man. 
 
 "You are very young, sir," he said, in a tone of inquiry, 
 "to have taken holy orders." 
 
 "It is a secret I purpose to confide to your keeping; and 
 I do so the more cheerfully from having been taught long 
 ago that he who trusts to the honor of a Catholic priest is 
 as safe as if his words were only breathed to the mountain 
 rock." 
 
 His gaze rested upon the features of the monk so in 
 tensely, while speaking, that it seemed as if he had power 
 to unvail the very thoughts within his bosom. The good 
 father felt the influence of that glance that in after years, on 
 the battle-field, at the bar, and in the fierce partisan conflicts 
 that followed the Revolution, never failed to awe an enemy 
 or to cheer a friend. Large, dark, and lustrous, there was 
 no passion that eye could not express, no mood it could not 
 subdue. When he chose, it was soft and melting as that of 
 the cooing dove. When angry passions stirred his soul, it 
 flashed with a lightning glare, before which the boldest 
 
 3 
 
26 THE RIVALS. 
 
 quailed. No secret was safe; no cunning was proof against 
 its magical power. Men s minds were to him an open book, 
 wherein he read whatever he wished to learn; and craft and 
 hypocrisy, with all their manifold arts, tried in vain to be 
 wilder or deceive him. The priest instinctively drew the 
 hood over his face, for none of us like to find that another 
 is becoming too familiar with our secret thoughts. 
 
 "You have," he answered, "been taught aright, my son. 
 All human errors, nay, all human crimes, save only that of 
 sacrilege, may find a safe depository in the humblest ser 
 vant of our holy church. Yet I do not understand how 
 this can be of any present interest to you. Your looks be 
 lie you greatly, if you have sinned so deeply as to doubt of 
 forgiveness." 
 
 "My crime, father, is not against divine, but against hu 
 man law. I am a soldier, not a priest. A traitor to the 
 English crown, and a sworn foe to its government. It rests 
 with you to determine how soon I may become a victim to 
 its tyranny. If you aid me, I hope to accomplish a great 
 mission. If you refuse, that mission may be terminated by 
 a halter." 
 
 The Superior was a Frenchman, and therefore a heredi 
 tary enemy to England. He was a Catholic, arid therefore 
 felt bound to wage an eternal war against the power that 
 had dealt such terrible blows at his church. He was a 
 man, and the genuine enthusiasm which sparkled in every 
 feature of Burr s face won its way to his heart, and from 
 that hour the young adventurer had a friend no misfortune 
 could drive from his side. Resting his head upon his hand, 
 it was several minutes before the monk made any response 
 to the frank communication he had received. 
 
 "I will serve you," at length he said, "to the extent of 
 my ability. But to render that service effectual, you must 
 trust me fully. Half confidences are almost always danger- 
 
THE RIVALS. 27 
 
 ous, and the parties to them not unfrequently find them 
 selves unintentionally playing at cross purposes." 
 
 " Such is my own judgment, father ; and if you will give 
 me your attention for one half-hour, you shall know all." 
 
 Burr then rapidly recounted the causes which led to the 
 American Revolution ; described the scene at Lexington, 
 and the battle "of Bunker Hill. In words of fire he related 
 the daring scheme that Arnold had formed of penetrating 
 the wilderness, and storming the heights of Quebec, at a 
 season of the year when the extreme cold would prevent 
 any reinforcements from reaching the garrison. The dan 
 gers and miseries over which the American force had thus 
 far triumphed were concisely stated, and he ended by in 
 forming his astonished auditor that he was charged with a 
 verbal message to Montgomery, without whose co-operr- 
 tion success was impossible and all that had been accom 
 plished would be worse than profitless. 
 
 It was a scene worthy the pencil of one of the great 
 Italian masters. The venerable priest, his form bent and 
 his locks whitened by the frosts of seventy winters, leaning 
 his elbows upon the table and listening in rapt attention to 
 the boy orator and soldier, while he gave voice to a peo 
 ple s wrongs, and proclaimed their unalterable purpose to 
 conquer, or perish in the attempt. The varied play of his 
 features gave evidence of the mingled feelings which were 
 struggling within him. The film of age passed from his 
 eye, and when the narrative ended, he struck his hand upon 
 the table with uncanonical energy and exclaimed, 
 
 You will conquer, my son ! Such men are ever victors. 
 A people animated by the love of liberty, and endowed 
 with the courage and energy you have already exhibited, 
 require little training to become invincible. The colonies 
 iire lost to Britain." 
 
 " I rejoice, father, to hear you speak so hopefully of our 
 
28 THE RIVALS. 
 
 cause. To the over-wise and the fearful it looks dark 
 enough. Do I trespass on forbidden ground by inquiring 
 if you have always been a priest ?" 
 
 "No. In my youth I bore arms in a cause less holy 
 than yours. The wild excitement of battle, the gloom of 
 defeat, and the fierce joy of victory, have been experienced 
 in turn ; and none of them are entirely forgotten, though 
 years of penitence and prayer have done much to blot out 
 their footprints. But it avails not to recur to such things 
 now. By morning I will find a messenger who shall bear 
 your tidings to General Montgomery." 
 
 "Pardon me, reverend sir, I must be that messenger my 
 self." 
 
 / You ! Why if you could elude the British scouts, who 
 >ill be sure to be on the watch to intercept any communi 
 cation between the two American commanders, you could 
 not bear the fatigue and exposure that must be undergone ; 
 and if you attempt it, your slight frame will wither before 
 half the distance is accomplished." 
 
 " You forget that I have just traversed five times that 
 distance through an unpeopled wilderness, and may well 
 consider the journey before me as a pleasure trip in com 
 parison. Remember, too, that my honor as a soldier is 
 involved. I have no right to transfer to another a duty 
 assigned to me. Whether he failed or succeeded, men 
 would call me coward, if they did not name me traitor. It 
 was not for such a purpose that I sought your convent. 
 Only give me the information you possess of the country, 
 the woods, and the people, and I shall go on my way with 
 a light heart and a grateful memory of your kindness." 
 
 Father Pierre made no immediate answer. He was ab 
 sorbed in thought. His lips moved, but no sound escaped 
 them. The furrows on his brow deepened, and it was evi 
 dent that his eye took in no object distinctly. His reverie 
 
THE RIVALS. 29 
 
 lasted so long that Burr began to be doubtful and impa 
 tient. He felt greatly relieved when at last the old man 
 said, 
 
 "I believe you are right. At least, I am sure that at 
 your age I should have reasoned as you do. Leave all 
 your preparations to me ; it is past the tenth hour, and you 
 must be stirring early. Here is your chamber." 
 
 So saying, he opened the door of a little room, appropri 
 ately denominated a closet, and pointing to a low couch, 
 which was almost its only furniture, bestowed upon the 
 youth his blessing, and left him to repose. Seating him 
 self at the table from which his guest had risen, he was 
 for some time engaged in self-communion. Then he 
 touched a small silver bell, and said to the servitor who 
 answered it, 
 
 "Tell Raoul that I would speak to him." 
 
 Yery soon a man between forty-five and fifty years of 
 age entered the room, and bent one knee respectfully to 
 the Superior. He was about the medium height, broad in 
 the chest, and round in the limbs. Years had taken away 
 the springy lightness of his step, but there was not the least 
 sign of decay in the manly form, that accorded well with 
 the bold and determined cast of his features. 
 
 "Rise, Raoul, and be seated. If I remember rightly, I 
 have heard you murmur at the treaty which ceded Canada 
 to England." 
 
 "I fought under Montcalm," replied the man, his eyes 
 glowing with the recollection, "and I hope it is no sin to 
 long for a time to come when France shall send us such 
 another leader to break the chain that galls us." 
 
 " France will send no leader here, my good Raoul ; but 
 the chain may be broken nevertheless. The English colo 
 nies on the seaboard have revolted. If Canada unites with 
 them, our ultimate triumph is certain." 
 
 3* 
 
30 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "Hope it not, father. Their raw levies and half-armed 
 militia will be swept away like chaff by the British regulars/ 
 
 "Your own experience should have taught you better 
 Raoul, for you have seen these same raw levies save a Brit 
 ish army from utter annihilation." 
 
 " So I did, in the woods and among the mountain glens. 
 On the open plain the result would have been widely differ 
 ent. George Washington and his rangers would not have 
 stood ten minutes before the same troops whose flight they 
 that day guarded." 
 
 "I doubt it; but let it be granted. What is there to 
 compel George Washington now to risk pitched battles on 
 open fields ? The mountain and the wood still offer their 
 protection, and if he is followed there, Braddock s story 
 may be rewritten on a bloodier page." 
 
 "I hope you are nearer to the mark than I am. I know 
 that whatever one strong arm can do to drive the British 
 lions from America, will be gladly tried. Point out the 
 way, and you will have no cause to murmur at my supine- 
 ness." 
 
 "There was a young priest who sought our halls for 
 shelter, to-night. Did you mark him well ?" 
 
 "I saw not his features, and only noted his feeble and 
 delicate appearance. It did not seem to me that he could 
 have borne the peltings of the storm much longer." 
 
 " Therein you are in error. That boy has just performed 
 a journey that would have taxed your strong frame to the 
 utmost. He is a soldier, attached to the troops now en 
 camped before Quebec, and bears dispatches to General 
 Montgomery. He needs a guide who, to courage and dis 
 cretion, adds a perfect knowledge of the country. There 
 is not a man in Canada so well fitted for the task as you 
 are, and I have sent for you to request that you will un 
 dertake it." 
 
THE RIVALS. 31 
 
 "Your reverence s lightest wish-is law to me. When my 
 comrades, deeming life extinct, left me stretched upon a 
 bloody plain, you had me carried from the field, and nursed 
 me as if I had been your brother, until health and strength 
 returned. When the wars ended, and the soldier, unfit for 
 civil employment, was thrown upon a selfish world, you 
 gave me shelter; you taught me how to earn my bread, and 
 saved me from becoming a mendicant. The hand and brain 
 of Raoul Audigier are therefore yours by a double title. 
 Whatever you command shall be done, if mortal man may 
 effect it." 
 
 "Perform this service well, Raoul, and I will hold you 
 acquitted of any debt you may suppose you owe me." 
 
 "No, father, no. This is a service in which my wishes 
 go with yours. Gladly on my own account will I pilot the 
 young American to Montreal. Gladly will I stand by him 
 in the battle s front. I have an old grudge against the 
 banner that floats above the walls of Quebec, and I would 
 give ten years of life to tear it down. You must think of 
 something else before we cry quits." 
 
 "Well, we will talk of that another time. Now leave 
 me, and make the needful preparations for your journey. 
 Before the dawn you must be on the road." 
 
 The Frenchman made a low bow of reverential respect, 
 and left the aged priest alone. Placing writing materials on 
 the table, he indited letter after letter until the convent 
 clock told the hour of three. Raoul was then aroused, who 
 proceeded to harness two strong ponies to one of the rough 
 wagons of the country, while the father awakened his 
 sleeping guest. 
 
 When everything was ready for Burr s departure, Father 
 Pierre placed in his hands the packet of letters he had 
 passed the night in writing. 
 
 "Here," he said, "are letters to every religious house on 
 
32 THE RIVALS. 
 
 your route If anything should befall you, and you need 
 assistance, apply without hesitation to the nearest one. It 
 will not be needful to repeat all you have communicated to 
 me, though you may do so safely. My letters will insure 
 you a hearty welcome, and whatever protection they can 
 give." 
 
 Burr was not ashamed, Protestant though he was, to 
 bend his knee to the frozen ground to receive the benedic 
 tion of the kind-hearted priest. It was earnestly bestowed 
 both upon Burr and his guide, and the two drove off over 
 the trackless snow at a pace which placed many miles be 
 tween them and the convent before the sun made his ap 
 pearance in the east. 
 
 The first care of our hero was to learn something of the 
 temper and character of his guide, whose features he had 
 not yet seen, and whose many robes of fur hid even the 
 outlines of his athletic form. A few brief questions led to 
 more general conversation, and Burr was surprised to find 
 that the man who now acted in a capacity scarcely removed 
 from that of servant was endowed with an intellect of high 
 order, improved and strengthened by education; to which 
 was added a knowledge of the world far deeper than he 
 himself could claim. He waited .impatiently for the ap 
 pearance of daylight, in order to judge how far the counte 
 nance of the man would remove or confirm the impression 
 his conversation had made. The snow-storm had ceased. 
 The wind no longer swept over the dreary waste, but the air 
 was filled with frost, and the rays of the bright stars which 
 penetrated to the cold earth seemed as if frozen by the 
 way, and hung like glittering icicles from the arched vault 
 above. Onward, through the deep snow, sped the tough 
 and wiry horses; and exultingly, in the still night air, 
 sounded the voice of Raoul Audigier, as he narrated the 
 wild adventures and the obstinate battles in which he had 
 
THE RIVALS. 33 
 
 borne a part, when the lilies of France waved over the 
 province of Canada and along the banks of the Ohio. 
 
 "It was in the year 55, before your birth, as I should 
 judge," he said, "when Braddock, at the head of a gallant 
 array, came to drive us from a little fort we had erected at the 
 junction of the Alleghany and the Monongahela. We had 
 early notice of his movements, and formed at leisure our 
 plans for interrupting his march. It was in the month of 
 July, and the sun came scorchingly down, even through the 
 leafy covert where we lay in ambush. Afar off we saw the 
 scarlet uniforms and bright muskets of the British regulars 
 flashing in the sunbeams, and over them the lion-banner 
 floating in stern and haughty defiance. My heart was 
 softer then than it has become, after undergoing the hard 
 knocks of more than twenty years, and although they 
 were foes, I felt a cold sensation creep over me as I 
 watched them moving unconsciously upon certain destruc 
 tion. There were no scouts in front, none upon the flanks ; 
 and, to crown the madness and folly of all his dispositions, 
 Braddock had placed the Virginia Rangers in the rear, and 
 assigned the advance to a body of light horse, utterly un 
 fit for service in the thick woods and among the mountain 
 glens. We were not over eight hundred and fifty strong, 
 and had gone out mainly for the purpose of delaying the 
 British march. When our commander, De Beaujeu, ob 
 served the order in which Braddock was approaching, he 
 could scarcely credit the evidence of his own senses. Very 
 soon two or three of our scouts came up from either flank 
 and made hurried reports. A glad smile lighted up his 
 features, and, turning to an officer who stood near, he said, 
 They have given us a victory, Bienville, when I only 
 hoped to give them a check. Reserve your fire until you 
 hear a rifleshot on the right. That gallant army is 
 doomed. 
 
34 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "A deep ravine to the right was lined by our Indian 
 allies, and there De Beaujeu hastened, to restrain their im 
 patience until the enemy were completely in the toils. 
 Steadily, ia firm order, the English veterans came on. 
 Nothing had occurred to arouse their suspicions, and al 
 though within thirty yards of us, they did not dream of a 
 lurking foe. The sharp crack of a rifle now rang through 
 the forest, and the officer who led the advance tumbled 
 from his horse. Before its echoes died away, a heavy vol 
 ley in front, and from either flank, was poured upon the 
 astonished soldiery, and a yell arose as wild and terrible as 
 if a thousand fiends had broken loose from the regions of 
 the damned. The advance guard was annihilated by that 
 destructive fire. Still Braddock pressed on at the head of 
 his main body, in the vain hope of closing with us and ter 
 minating the contest by the bayonet. In attempting to 
 deploy into line, they were thrown in confusion by the ine 
 qualities of the ground. At the same moment a leaden 
 hail was showered upon them from three sides at once, and 
 again the wild yell of the Indian warriors shook the forest 
 and reverberated among the mountains. Nobly and bravely 
 did England s soldiers that day maintain the high character 
 they had- acquired in many a stern encounter; but what 
 could human courage do against an unseen foe, whose 
 deadly volleys it was impossible to return? They were 
 broken at length rallied, re-formed again and again, only 
 to be again and again broken by the messengers of doom 
 that continually went forth from our secret covert. 
 
 " Up to this time it had been a massacre, rather than a bat 
 tle ; but now the rangers came up from the rear and threw 
 themselves between us and the bleeding ranks of the luckless 
 regulars. The face of affairs was instantly changed. They 
 understood the warfare of the woods as well as we did, and 
 were fettered by no foolish belief in the possibility of prac- 
 
THE RIVALS. 35 
 
 ticing the tactics of Europe in the wilds of America. 
 Promptly availing themselves of every sheltering object, 
 they returned our fire with fatal effect. De Beaujeu was 
 mortally wounded, and our advance so much checked, that 
 the shattered remnant of Braddock s army was enabled to 
 recross the Monongahela. But for Washington and his 
 Bangers, not one British soldier would have escaped to tell 
 the disastrous tale of that day s battle. As it was, they 
 lost all their baggage, artillery, and munitions, and our In 
 dian allies carried seven hundred and fifty scalps into Fort 
 Du Quesne, as additional trophies of victory." 
 
 In such conversation the time wore rapidly away. Burr 
 was conducted from convent to convent by his sagacious 
 guide, receiving at each one the warm greetings and lavish 
 hospitality of its inmates. At Three Rivers they observed 
 a number of persons gathered about the entrance to a pub 
 lic house, engaged in earnest conversation, which they did 
 not doubt had reference to Arnold s invasion. To attempt 
 to pass would be to create suspicion and insure detection. 
 Kaoul drove boldly up to the door and inquired the way to 
 the religious house at the place, of which he pretended to 
 be ignorant. The confident manner of the man, and the 
 priestly vestments of Burr, united to deceive them, and, 
 although a few of the group eyed them suspiciously, they 
 were permitted to proceed unmolested. 
 
 "We have had a narrow escape, monsieur," said the 
 guide, as soon as they were out of ear-shot. " For five 
 minutes I could distinctly feel the pressure. of a rope about 
 my neck." 
 
 "Was the danger really so great?" asked Burr. "I 
 thought from your^tone and manner that it was trivia./ 
 
 "When you have been knocked about the world, as I 
 have been, monsieur, you will learn that half of our suc 
 cess in life depends upon appearances. The philosopher 
 
36 THE RIVALS. 
 
 at his books the tiller of the soil, with no thought beyond 
 the profitable sale of his produce the soldier in the pres 
 ence of an enemy the statesman who struggles for power 
 and place even the priest at the altar, must sometimes 
 seem to be what they are not, or they will be certain to 
 encounter much disappointment. There is nothing more 
 dangerous than one of those tell-tale faces which reveal 
 our inmost thoughts as plainly as if they were written in 
 a book. If Father Pierre had suspected me of any such 
 weakness, he would never have trusted you under my guid 
 ance. I saw in yonder group the man whom, of all others, 
 I have most reason to hate. It has been ten years since 
 we met, and I have changed more than he has; but the 
 quivering of a lip, the flashing of an eye, or any other ap 
 pearance of unusual emotion, would have betrayed me, and 
 subjected us to an examination we might have found it dif 
 ficult to pass through." 
 
 "The examination would have been fruitless," said Burr; 
 "for I have nothing that would betray me. The letters 
 of Father Pierre are so worded as to remove rather than 
 excite suspicion. I have no dispatches or other papers of 
 any description." 
 
 "There is beneath that coarse robe," quietly responded 
 Raoul, " a brace of pistols, and a broad, two-edged dagger. 
 The Catholic clergy are not usually so well provided with 
 offensive arms." 
 
 "I am indeed armed as you say. How did you know it?" 
 
 " I should have done poor credit to my training, if, in 
 traveling so far, I had failed to discover the texture of your 
 under-garments, provided I had deemed it necessary to 
 possess myself of the information. In this case, however, 
 my knowledge was acquired by a more simple process. 
 You have been jolted against me at least a hundred times, 
 and I could not help feeling your arms. But here we are 
 
THE RIVALS. 37 
 
 at the convent gate, and here we must remain until to-mor 
 row. In the mean time, I will find out what danger is 
 ahead of us." 
 
 The possibility of a considerable detention at this place, 
 and the certainty that when he did go, he would be com 
 pelled to leave at an unusual hour and in a clandestine 
 manner, made it necessary, in the opinion of Burr, that the 
 object of his journey should be fully explained to the chief 
 of the establishment, and accordingly he at once solicited 
 the favor of a private interview. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 " See oh ! never more, my comrades, 
 Shall we see that falcon eye 
 Redden with its inward lightning, 
 As the hour of fight drew nigh ! 
 Never shall we hear the voice that, 
 Clearer than the trumpet s call, 
 Bade us strike for King and Country, 
 Bade us win the field, or fall!" 
 
 THE evening meal had long been concluded, and the 
 convent bells had chimed the hour of nine. Aaron Burr 
 was still in earnest conference with the Superior. A gentle 
 tap on the door announced the appearance of a visitor. 
 He was evidently expected, for the door immediately 
 opened, and the priest, pointing to a chair, anxiously in 
 quired of the new-comer what news he had gathered. 
 
 "The country is aroused and vigilant," briefly responded 
 the man, "and patrols of horse are scouring the roads." 
 
 "For what? Heard you for what, Julien?" 
 
 " There is a rumor of a rebel army encamped before 
 Quebec ; and it is said that rebel emissaries are traveling 
 in disguise to create disaffection among the people." 
 
 "This is worse," said the monk, thoughtfully; "much 
 worse than I expected. You may go, Julien," he con 
 tinued, after a pause, "and partake of some needful re 
 freshment but first send the guide Raoul hither." 
 
 "We have need of your advice, my son," said the monk, 
 
 when Audigier appeared in obedience to his summons. 
 
 "Julien reports that the country people are alarmed, and 
 
 horse patrols scouring the roads. You, who are a soldier 
 
 (38) 
 
THE RIVALS. 39 
 
 by profession, will understand what amount of danger is 
 to be anticipated, and what are the best means of avoid 
 ing it." 
 
 "I have been a soldier, father, and remembered so much 
 of my old calling as to go out myself on a scouting expe 
 dition this evening. Julien has not reported matters any 
 worse than they are." 
 
 " So I feared I so I feared ! What do you advise ?" 
 
 "It seems to me, father, there is but one thing we can 
 do safely, and that is, to remain within your walls until the 
 patrols have disappeared. They will not molest us here, 
 and I hope and believe they will soon get tired of riding 
 about in such bitter weather as this." 
 
 The monk fully agreed with the guide, but such an ar 
 rangement was exceedingly distasteful to Burr, and he pro 
 tested vehemently against it. Every hour lost now, he 
 argued, lessened the chances of a glorious termination to 
 the campaign. It gave the enemy time to recover from his 
 first panic, and, which was of more importance, enabled 
 him to add to and strengthen his fortifications. He con 
 tended that the patrols were likely to be just as vigilant 
 some days hence as now, and added, that he felt bound to 
 make the attempt to proceed, however great the danger. 
 The guide heard him without interruption, and then calmly 
 replied, 
 
 "I acknowledge the force of much you have said, Mon 
 sieur Burr. I know the importance of speedily reaching 
 Montreal, and it is because I do know it that I advise pre 
 sent delay. To proceed now will be to throw yourself into 
 the hands of the enemy; not probably, but certainly. We 
 might gain a few hours by starting at night, but the tracks 
 left in the snow would enable them to follow at speed, and 
 commanding as they could, and would, fresh horses at every 
 farm-house on the road, our escape would be impossible. 
 
40 THE RIVALS. 
 
 We must remain, monsieur, and if your anticipations of 
 the continued vigilance of the horsemen should prove cor 
 rect, we can take advantage of the first snow-storm which 
 will fill up the tracks behind us, and lessen the danger by 
 that much at least. I am persuaded, however, that much 
 more will be gained. The people of the country have no 
 heart for this business, and the British horse, who have 
 nothing more than vague suspicion to animate them, will 
 soon find, in the severity of the weather, a sufficient excuse 
 for leaving the road and betaking themselves to more com 
 fortable quarters." 
 
 The arguments of the guide were warmly seconded by 
 the priest, and Burr was compelled to submit to an 
 arrangement he could not alter. Having consented to 
 remain, he did not, as so many men would have done, see 
 fit to render it disagreeable to his host by an exhibition of 
 fretful impatience. On the contrary, during the three days 
 of his enforced detention he seemed to forget his warlike 
 mission entirely, and directed the conversation into chan 
 nels the most familiar and the most agreeable to his hear 
 ers. Upon subjects of philosophy and religion, he was at 
 home ; and the good fathers were astonished as much by 
 the subtlety of his reasoning as by the extent and variety 
 of his learning. 
 
 Every night Raoul communicated the information he 
 had gathered during the day. On the third evening, after 
 his usual report, he said, 
 
 " The coast is nearly clear, monsieur, and the clouds 
 betoken a snow-storm before midnight. If you will take 
 a few hours sleep I will have everything prepared to start 
 by the time it sets in." 
 
 Burr was so delighted at the prospect of being again in 
 motion, that sleep was banished from his eyelids. He had 
 no preparations to make beyond a careful examination of 
 
THE EIVALS. 41 
 
 his arms. These were secured in a belt beneath his monk s 
 robes, and then he began to pace the floor with a quick 
 and nervous tread. After awhile he seated himself in a 
 chair, and, taking up a Latin volume, tried to pass off the 
 time in reading. His efforts to confine his attention to the 
 book wer*e of no avail. The words seemed to run into one 
 another, and he became conscious that, although he had 
 turned over a dozen leaves or more, he could not recall a 
 Single expression, and was ignorant even of the subject 
 treated of in the book. Replacing it on the table, he 
 renewed his walk more rapidly than before. Soon his 
 steps grew slower. The furrows impatience had made 
 upon his brow disappeared. He had surrendered the 
 reins to fancy, and, in the buoyant hopefulness of youth, 
 had given form and substance to the dim and shadowy 
 events which peopled the future. Distinctly, as on a mari 
 ner s chart, he traced out his own career, and robed it with 
 a glory that never comes to bless the imagination of any 
 but the young and the inexperienced. He heard upon a 
 hundred battle-fields the stirring war-cry, " Give me liberty, 
 or give me death !" and sent back from his own lips an an 
 swering echo. Through scenes like these in the midst of 
 honors fairly won he rose from rank to rank, until he saw 
 himself the chosen leader of a band of patriot heroes, 
 whose strong arras had shivered the chains of tyranny, 
 and whose bold hearts had led them unflinching through 
 fire and blood to the loftiest triumph mortal courage may 
 achieve. Then a sweet change came over his dream. The 
 stern shouts of contending hosts, the clashing steel, and 
 the deep-toned thunder of the artillery are hushed, and in 
 their stead swell the triumphal anthems which hail a peo 
 ple s champion and proclaim a nation s birth. The ground 
 where lately the life-blood of the oppressor and the op 
 pressed was mingled in a crimson current, is strewed with 
 
 4* 
 
42 THE RIVALS. 
 
 flowers; the serried ranks of armed men are swept away; 
 old men and children throng around their deliverer, and, 
 more highly prized than all, 
 
 "From every casement comes the light 
 Of women s eyes, so soft and bright ! 
 Peering through the latticed bars, 
 A nearer, dearer, heaven of stars." 
 
 Farther, farther still, beyond the final triumph and its glad 
 rejoicings, did the visions of the young enthusiast travel. 
 He became the lawgiver of a ransomed continent, and 
 under his encouragement the lake, the stream, the mount 
 ain, and the plain were peopled by the mighty creations 
 of science. Art added its brilliant decorations ; music 
 and poetry poured their melodies into enraptured ears; 
 and, over all, genius spread its radiant wings, gilding that 
 favored spot of earth with the hues of heaven. 
 
 Oh, wisely has an impenetrable curtain been drawn 
 between us and the unknown road our footsteps are 
 doomed to pass ! Oh, wisely has it been decreed that no 
 craft, no skill, no exertion can tear it away ! Moving as 
 we move, receding as we advance, forever near, yet forever 
 beyond our reach, it hides alike the level greensward and 
 the quicksand, the triumph and the fall, which await us 
 to-morrow. 17 o avenging demon stood by the side of 
 Aaron Burr to reveal the destiny to come, and to strike 
 from fancy s grasp its enchanter s wand. He was but 
 twenty, and he could dream. It has been so ordered that 
 all of us, at that age, may dream if we will, and he is a 
 poor, weak fool, who cherishes not the good gift that Pro 
 vidence has bestowed. The narrow-minded devotee of 
 mammon may say, and truly, that the brightest vision 
 never purchased a loaf of bread or clothed a naked foot ; 
 but what would King David have said if he had been told 
 
THE RIVALS. 43 
 
 to still the swell of grandeur that almost shivered his harp- 
 strings in the cave of Adullam, when the bright dream of 
 his future greatness and glory flashed upon him ? Or, 
 what would old John Milton have answered, if he had been 
 told to chase off his visions of Lucifer s rebellion in hea 
 ven descend from his kindred home beyond the stars, and 
 grabble in the mire of earth for sixpence ? Tell the sol 
 dier that he must not dream of victories won in his coun 
 try s cause ; the lawyer, of friendless innocence vindicated 
 by his eloquence ; the gospel preacher, of lost souls re 
 stored to a bleeding Saviour s bosom, and the soldier 
 becomes a mercenary, the lawyer a pettifogging swindler, 
 and the preacher a heartless hypocrite. Dreams, however 
 wild, however extravagant,, are the gift of God himself, 
 sent in infinite mercy to cheer the darkest hours of the 
 desponding, and in infinite wisdom to stimulate the mind 
 of man to the grandest and the loftiest of its exertions. 
 Nothing great, nothing good, was ever yet accomplished 
 by him whose aspirations were bounded by the actual 
 whose efforts were limited by the probable. 
 
 Aaron Burr was still building castles in the air, when 
 Raoul, accompanied by the Father Superior, entered the 
 room to announce that the storm had set in, and the hour 
 for their departure had arrived. For the first ten miles 
 or more, their progress was slow. The snow, falling in 
 flakes as big as a man s hand, shut out all objects at the 
 distance of a few feet from the travelers, and rendered the 
 exercise of considerable caution necessary in picking their 
 road. The dreary night gave little encouragement to 
 conversation, and the silence was only broken by a brief 
 question now and then, and an equally brief reply. No 
 indication of a pursuit had been observed, and Burr was 
 beginning to flatter himself with the belief that the dan 
 ger was over, when, shortly after crossing a little stream 
 
44 THE RIVALS. 
 
 spanned by a covered bridge, his attention was attracted 
 by a lumbering noise behind them. 
 
 "What is that?" he asked quickly. 
 
 Raoul turned his head backward for a moment, and 
 then replied in a voice indicative neither of alarm nor 
 excitement, 
 
 " It is the sound of horses feet on the bridge. We are 
 followed, monsieur." 
 
 At the same time he applied the lash smartly to the 
 spirited ponies, who dashed off at a greatly accelerated 
 pace. Holding them steadily to their work, Raoul con 
 tinued, 
 
 "If they have followed us from Three Rivers they must 
 be skillful riders, or their horses will be blown before they 
 overtake us. Ours are as strong as when we left the con 
 vent, and will bear up many miles without flagging." 
 
 "Is it not possible," asked Burr, "that they may be 
 upon some other errand ?" 
 
 "Possible, certainly; though there are few errands 
 which would draw men from their comfortable beds on 
 such a night as this. It is of little moment, however, 
 whether they seek us, or whether they have other business. 
 We are upon the road under suspicious circumstances, in 
 a time of general suspicion, and that is enough to insure 
 our arrest if we are overtaken. May I ask, monsieur, 
 whether you propose in that event to surrender, or re 
 sist?" 
 
 "Resist, by all means!" was the quick and stern re 
 ply. "Resist, and to the death. I will not be taken 
 alive." 
 
 "I am delighted to hear you say so. The fact is, I 
 look upon death by a halter as altogether so vulgar and 
 disagreeable, that I am afraid I might have been inclined 
 to oppose your wishes if you had decided otherwise. It 
 
THE RIVALS. 45 
 
 is better though to avoid the alternative, if it can be done, 
 and, as the horses will require all ray attention, I must 
 request you to turn an occasional glance backward, in 
 order that we may get the earliest notice of their ap 
 proach." 
 
 Mile after mile was passed over, and still there was no 
 appearance of the pursuing party. Raoul well understood 
 that they might be in a few hundred yards of him never 
 theless, and he kept his horses at the fastest pace they could 
 bear without the risk of breaking down. The storm was 
 beginning to abate, and the first streaks of light dappled 
 the east, when Burr thought he discovered the dim outlines 
 of horsemen in the rear. 
 
 "They are coming," he said. "Had you not better in 
 crease our speed ?" 
 
 "No. They will overtake us at any rate. It must 
 come to a life and death struggle sooner or later, and we 
 shall gain some advantage by taking it coolly. Can you 
 make out how many there are?" 
 
 "I see but three." 
 
 " Three only ! There must have been more when they 
 started, and some have broken down by the way." 
 
 For two miles further the horses were kept at the same 
 steady pace. The day had grown brighter, and the snow 
 was falling less rapidly than it had been. 
 
 "They are gaining on us," said Burr, "but it is very 
 slowly. It will be an hour before they can overtake us, 
 even at our present rate of traveling." 
 
 "Do you see no more than three now, monsieur?" 
 
 "There are no more." 
 
 "Then the chances are all in our favor." 
 
 So saying, he reined the jaded horses to a slow trot, 
 dropped the buffalo robe from his shoulders, and divested 
 his hands of the thick fur gloves which incased them. 
 
46 THE EIVALS. 
 
 "Get your arms ready, monsieur, and use them promptly. 
 Not only our own lives, but the fate of Quebec depends upon 
 getting the first fire." 
 
 A few minutes only elapsed before the pursuers galloped 
 alongside and sternly ordered them to halt. Raoul com 
 plied, sullenly inquiring for what purpose peaceful travelers 
 were thus interrupted on their journey. 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur Audigier!" answered the leader of the 
 party, "it seems you have forgotten an old acquaintance. 
 You might have remembered Cornet (now Captain) Robert 
 Campbell, of His Majesty s Dragoons, and saved your 
 self the trouble of asking for his authority." 
 
 "I remember," said the Frenchman, with a knit brow 
 and a flashing eye, "that you shot down my brother by my 
 side, and that you treated me like a dog when I was a help 
 less prisoner under your charge ; but I did not know that 
 these acts gave you authority to arrest me, or my com 
 panion, on the highway. Where is your warrant?" 
 
 " Oh !" replied Campbell, drawing a pistol from his hol 
 ster, "it is seldom that I am unprepared with a sufficient 
 warrant for the arrest of a traitor and a spy." 
 
 Quick as lightning, Raoul thrust a hand in his bosom 
 in a moment a loud report shook the morning air, and Ro 
 bert Campbell fell without a groan to the ground. The 
 ball had touched his heart. Almost at the same time 
 Burr s pistol was discharged, desperately wounding another 
 of the dragoons. The remaining one seeing how it had 
 fared with his comrades, hastily returned the fire, and, 
 wheeling his horse, betook himself to flight. Two shots 
 were discharged after him, by one of which his horse was 
 so badly wounded that, at the distance of one hundred 
 yards, he stumbled and fell. 
 
 "That will do," said Raoul, coolly drawing on his 
 gloves. "Before he can procure assistance and put an- 
 
THE RIVALS. 4 
 
 other pack of blood-hounds on our trail we shall be far 
 enough beyond danger from pursuit." 
 
 It turned out as he predicted, and the remainder of the 
 journey was unvaried by accident or adventure. Enter 
 ing Montreal, Burr proceeded directly to the headquar 
 ters of General Montgomery, to make his report. That 
 gallant officer, charmed by the address and daring of the 
 young volunteer, conferred upon him the military rank of 
 captain, and assigned him a place on his own staff. 
 
 That the reader may clearly understand the events just 
 narrated, it may be necessary to explain that when Kaoul 
 Audigier drove off from the inn door at Three Rivers, he 
 was mistaken in supposing that he had not been recognized 
 by his old enemy, Captain Campbell. It is true, that indi 
 vidual could not at the moment recall his name, or the time 
 and place where they had met ; but both the face and the 
 voice were familiar to him, and he kept thinking and tax 
 ing his memory until the truth flashed upon him. By that 
 time Raoul and Burr were safe in the convent. Now Cap 
 tain Campbell had very little respect for either priests or 
 convents, and would not have hesitated to make an arrest 
 at the altar s foot, if the orders from his superiors had not 
 been distinct and positive, that no indignity whatever should 
 be offered to any of the religious communities, and that 
 great care should be observed not to offend the Catholic 
 population, and thus give them a pretext for joining in the 
 formidable rebellion which had broken out in the other 
 colonies of British America. He was satisfied that Raoul 
 was employed upon some errand hostile to English supre 
 macy, and fully believed that his companion was one of 
 those emissaries who, it was reported, had been sent out by 
 the Continental Congress to persuade the Canadians to 
 unite with them in throwing off the yoke of the mother 
 country. So thinking, he placed a watch on the roads, and 
 
48 THE RIVALS. 
 
 also succeeded in bribing one of the servitors of the con 
 vent to bring him all the information he could gather. 
 This was little enough. Burr was careful to keep the 
 object of his journey, and the place of his destination, a 
 secret from all but the Superior, and, as the time of his 
 starting was wholly uncertain, all that the traitor could do 
 was to promise that he would immediately communicate to 
 Captain Campbell any suspicious circumstances that came 
 to his knowledge. Accordingly, when Burr and Raoul 
 departed from the convent, he sought his employer at the 
 inn, where he found him snoring comfortably in bed. By 
 the time he was aroused, and four troopers (all that he 
 could immediately muster) were mounted, two good hours 
 were lost. This made it necessary to press the horses so 
 hard that before he came in sight of the fugitives two of 
 them were completely blown. 
 
 Robert Campbell, though little better than a ruffian in 
 heart or manners, was a man of dauntless courage, who had 
 fought his way up from the grade of a private soldier to his 
 present rank. He was accustomed to overcome difficulties, 
 and to pay little attention to odds or danger in the discharge 
 of his duties. The loss of one-half his force had no other 
 effect than to excite him to fury. Uttering bitter maledic 
 tions on the clumsy brutes, and bestowing some hearty 
 curses on the men themselves, who he charged with neglect 
 ing the proper care of their horses, he continued the pur 
 suit at the head of the remaining two, as indeed he would 
 have done alone, if they also had given out. In sight of 
 the wagon in which Burr and the guide were traveling, he 
 issued stern orders to kill Raoul at the first show of resist 
 ance, adding, 
 
 " If he is out on a treasonable errand he will be certain 
 to show fight. I know him of old." 
 
 Nothing but the prompt tactics of the pursued saved 
 
THE RIVALS. 49 
 
 them from the imminent danger, and enabled Burr to de 
 liver his message to Montgomery, in Montreal. 
 
 On the reception of that message, the dauntless Irish 
 man, undismayed by the excessive cold and the blinding 
 snow-storms of the season, put his army in motion, and, by 
 a succession of forced marches, in a few days joined Arnold 
 before Quebec. His young aid-de-camp had been daily 
 gaming ground in his confidence and esteem. His untiring 
 watchfulness, patient endurance, and exact performance of 
 every duty assigned him, completely won the heart of his 
 experienced commander, and at the first council of war 
 held after his junction with Arnold, Burr was present by 
 express invitation of the general. That council led to re 
 sults that will long be remembered in the annals of America. 
 It was determined to take the city by assault, and Aaron 
 Burr, at his own request, was appointed to the command 
 of the forlorn hope. 
 
 Under his supervision, ladders were made for the " storm- 
 ers," and the men, fully armed and equipped, were exer 
 cised in ascending and descending these ladders, until they 
 were able to execute the maneuver in perfect order and 
 with the greatest celerity. Each night Burr went himself 
 to inspect the fortifications and examine the ground over 
 which it had been determined to make the approach. So 
 incessant was his activity, that it became a common saying 
 among the soldiers that "little Burr" neve*r slept. Unfor 
 tunately, from some cause, the original plan of attack was 
 changed, and on the night of the 31st of December, 1775, 
 Montgomery formed his troops, now reduced from fatigue 
 and exposure to nine hundred men, in four divisions, for the 
 final assault. Two of these were not expected to do more 
 than distract the enemy s attention. The third was led by 
 Arnold. The general, in opposition to the wishes and 
 against the earnest remonstrances of his officers, insisted 
 
50 THE RIVALS. 
 
 on commanding the fourth division in person. At four 
 o clock on the morning of the first of January, the order 
 was given to advance, and the columns moved forward in 
 the midst of a snow-storm of unexampled severity. Mont 
 gomery marched in front, accompanied by his staff, and 
 Raoul Audigier as guide. The British were slumbering 
 in fancied security. The movement of the Americans had 
 been conducted so noiselessly that no one inside the fortifi 
 cations dreamed of their approach. The first row of pickets 
 was cleared away still no alarm was given. They neared 
 the second row and began to remove these also, before the 
 guard became aware of their presence. A hasty fire, that 
 did no damage to the assailants, was followed by the flight 
 of the guard ; and now, elated by the seeming certainty of 
 success, Montgomery raised the exulting shout "Quebec 
 is ours." But, alas! in this world the veriest accident, 
 the most trivial obstacle, not unfrequently changes the des 
 tinies of men and nations ! Huge masses of ice blocked 
 up the narrow gorge through which they were advancing, 
 and in removing these obstructions priceless minutes were 
 lost. Behind the second row of pickets there was a square 
 block-house defended by two twelve-pounders. In the con 
 fusion of their first surprise, the British soldiers fled from 
 the block-house without waiting to try the effect of their 
 cannon on the advancing column. The delay occasioned 
 by the necessity of removing the masses of ice gave a sailor 
 time to observe that they were unpursued. Returning to 
 ascertain the cause, he reached the block-house just as the 
 Americans were beginning again to advance. Before be 
 taking himself a second time to flight, he touched off one 
 of the heavily-loaded pieces. Fiercely through the night 
 air hissed the destroying grape-shot ! Forward fell the tall 
 form of Montgomery, and down sank two of his aids by 
 his side ! Crimson stains were scattered over the white 
 
THE RIVALS. 51 
 
 shroud that covered the earth, and dying groans added 
 their horrors to the wailings of the winter storm ! That 
 iron shower, sent forth by a trembling hand, aimless, and 
 without a defined object, had performed a fearful workl 
 Every man who had led the advance, except Burr and the 
 guide, was either dead, or soon to be so. Appalled at the 
 havoc before them, the troops, who were for the most part 
 raw and inexperienced, stopped and hesitated. In vain 
 Burr shouted to them to come on. In vain he urged, en 
 treated, and implored. In vain he assured them that one 
 effort one vigorous charge would surely carry the place. 
 What, they argued, could a boy like him know of war and 
 its chances. Their general was dead : there was no other 
 chieftain present in whom they had confidence. From 
 doubt they sunk to fear, and fled disgracefully from the 
 bloody scene. Alas ! if Arnold had been there to excite 
 them by his sublime fury, and shame them by his desperate 
 example, how different might have been his own fate ! How 
 changed the destiny of Canada ! But he, the hero then, 
 albeit the traitor afterwards, was thundering against an 
 impregnable height on another side of the town, and chaf 
 ing like a lioness deprived of her whelps, because, with 
 mortal means, he could not accomplish a feat beyond any 
 mortal strength. 
 
 Raoul Audigier was nearly choked by feelings of bitter 
 contempt as he marked the hesitation, and then the hasty 
 retreat of the Americans. To him it was perfectly appar 
 ent that one determined charge was all that was needed 
 to win the mighty prize they were throwing away in their 
 cowardly panic. He knew the ground and the defences 
 well, having served in the garrison when it was occupied 
 by the French, and was pursuaded that the remaining diffi- 
 cujties were light in comparison with those that had been 
 overcome. Ten minutes before his heart was beating 
 
52 T II E R I V A L S. 
 
 proudly in anticipation of tearing down the hated flag of 
 England from its lofty eminence. Now this confident hope 
 was rudely crushed at the very moment he believed its real 
 ization inevitable, and to his utter amazement he witnessed 
 the terror-stricken flight of armed men from a victory al 
 ready won. In a tone of mingled sarcasm and irony, he 
 addressed himself to the only companion who had not de 
 serted him, 
 
 "You and I might take this fortress, captain, but I doubt 
 our ability to hold it. There is no alternative, I believe, 
 save to follow the example of your gallant countrymen." 
 
 It was indeed high time to beat a retreat. The British 
 had returned to the block-house, and opened a heavy fire 
 on the fugitives. Burr, unwilling to leave his bleeding 
 commander to the insults of the foe, lifted the dead hero in 
 his arms, and trudged along through the deep snow with his 
 glorious burden. Close upon his heels passed the fierce 
 pursuers, but he clung to that inanimate body as the 
 mother clings to her sucking babe, until his strength was 
 exhausted and he literally sunk beneath its weight. 
 
 The hopes of the morning had been fearfully blasted, 
 and throughout that day dismay reigned over the Ameri 
 can camp. Arnold was wounded, and his men repulsed on 
 the other side of the town. In every quarter disaster had 
 befallen them, and the baffled troops shook off the restraints 
 of discipline, and gathered in gloomy knots to discuss and 
 lament their losses. 
 
 The contemptuous opinion Raoul Audigier had formed 
 of the republican soldiers was not improved by the demor 
 alization that followed their repulse. Toward evening 
 he approached the tent of Burr. 
 
 "I have come," he said, "to bid you good-by, captain, 
 and to wish you higher honors than you are likely to win 
 while associated with the rabble gang about you." 
 
THE RIVALS. 53 
 
 "This is sudden, and unexpected," answered Burr. "I 
 hoped that you would remain with us to the end." 
 
 "So I hoped myself, captain; but it cannot be. One 
 night s experience of the mettle of your troops is enough 
 for an old soldier like me. It is difficult at my age to learn 
 new lessons, and I don t think I could make much progress 
 in the art of running away an art in which your soldiers 
 have attained a degree of proficiency I have no ambition to 
 equal. In the next battle I should almost certainly be 
 killed. In a good cause and to subserve a useful end, that 
 is a fate at which I should not murmur ; but I object very 
 seriously to being called to the judgment bar in the com 
 pany of men whose wounds were all taken behind." 
 
 It was to no purpose Burr attempted to explain that the 
 flight of the Americans could not justly be attributed to 
 any want of personal courage or devotion to the cause ; 
 that it was one of those sudden and unaccountable panics 
 by which all new levies are liable to be afflicted, and for 
 which there was much excuse in the fall of their general, 
 and the absence of any commanding spirit to take his 
 place. He insisted that the same men would, the next 
 day, march up the same gorge, and brave five times the 
 danger freely and fearlessly, under Arnold s lead. 
 
 "I hope so, captain ; and for your sake I will try to be 
 lieve it. Still, there is no inducement for me to remain. 
 When last night s story is told, you may have well-wishers, 
 but you will have no partisans among our people. It is 
 this that stings so deeply, whenever I think of that das 
 tardly flight. If I had not witnessed it myself, I could 
 not have believed that men with beards upon their chins 
 could behave so wretchedly. Why, a band of peasants, 
 carrying no other weapons than flails and pitchforks, might 
 have exterminated the garrison, so completely were they 
 taken by surprise. As it is, whatever success may attend 
 
 5* 
 
54 THE RIVALS. 
 
 you elsewhere, the fate of Canada is sealed. God bless 
 you !" he continued, extending his hand. "I know you to 
 ""be a soldier, and a brave one. I grieve that I am not able 
 to say as much for your comrades. I shall seek the con 
 vent of Father Pierre / and, if the prayers of a good man 
 may avail you anything, I doubt not that his will follow 
 you wherever you go." 
 
 Burr grasped his offered hand. 
 
 "Good-by," he said, "my brave and faithful friend. I 
 respect your feelings too much to complain of the bitter 
 ness of your language. When next you hear of me, I 
 trust the tidings will be of happier import." 
 
 The command of the united forces devolved on Arnold, 
 and for weeks he lingered about Quebec, watching an op 
 portunity to strike another blow, and retrieve the losses he 
 had sustained. One of his first acts was to confer upon 
 Aaron Burr the appointment of brigade-major a distinc 
 tion he had so fairly won that it excited no murmur of dis 
 content from those over whom he had been preferred. In 
 deed, from every quarter the young officer was reaping a 
 harvest of golden opinions. At that period of the Amer 
 ican Revolution, there was not one whose prospects were 
 brighter ; not one whose name was more frequently on the 
 lips of the brave and the fair. Had Montgomery lived, 
 there is no doubt that chivalrous soldier would have ex 
 erted his great influence to procure for his favorite a com 
 mission equal to his merits. But, alas ! the hero-chief had 
 offered up his life as a sacrifice on the altar of liberty, and 
 the voice, so potent once, was hushed in death ! Appear 
 ances are as often deceptive in the career of a soldier as 
 elsewhere. At first it seemed that the death of the gen 
 eral, by spreading the renown, smoothed the way to the 
 advancement of the aid-de-camp. It was known that he 
 was in the front rank, by Montgomery s side when he fell. 
 
THE RIVALS. 55 
 
 It was known that he was the last in the retreat, and that 
 he had borne along with him the body of his commander, 
 notwithstanding the enemy were close at his heels. This 
 crowning act gave a wider circulation to the story of his 
 other achievements, and the general judgment marked him 
 as a man eminently fitted for a leader in the trying times to 
 come. The popular opinion thus freely expressed did not 
 fail to reach his ears, and give a brighter color to his hopes. 
 Alas 1 how little did he dream, in the intoxication of that 
 first draught from the fountain of fame, how many bitter 
 struggles, how many grievous disappointments, how many 
 gnawing cares, were before him ! The malignant demons 
 who crouched, grinning, along the pathway of coming 
 years, were hidden from his mental vision. The warm sun 
 of May poured its radiant beams around him. The fierce 
 tempests of December were unrevealed and uncared for. 
 There was before him no magic mirror on whose polished 
 surface appeared an old man, bent and broken by sorrow, 
 hunted down by unscrupulous power, stung by its reptile 
 minions, wandering an exile in a foreign land, subjected to 
 the capricious tyranny of a despot, his rights as an Ameri 
 can citizen denied, and suffering even for the bread neces 
 sary to sustain existence. He did not foresee that a day 
 would come when an American Consul, backed by an 
 American Minister, would refuse him the poor boon of a 
 passport to return to the graves of his ancestors, upon the 
 miserable pretext that he, the Soldier, the Lawyer, the 
 Senator, and lastly the Vice-President of the Republic, 
 was a fugitive from its justice ! The ambitious Greek, who 
 won an immortality of infamy by burning the temple at 
 Ephesus, has been outdone in later times. His crime was 
 untinctured with meanness. If it exhibits no other redeem 
 ing quality, it was at least daring in its sacrilege. He 
 aimed no dastard blow at a powerless man, and offered no 
 
56 THE RIVAL 8. 
 
 insult to the misfortunes of one he dared not look in the 
 face when his hands were untied. This was crawling down 
 to a depth of degradation that was reserved for Alexander 
 McRae and Jonathan Russell alone names that will be 
 execrated by the just and manly when that of Erostratus 
 is forgotten. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "Thus lived, thus died she: never more on her 
 Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not made 
 Through years or moons the inner weight to bear, 
 Which colder hearts endure till they are laid 
 By age in earth; her days and pleasures were 
 Brief, but delightful, such as had not stayed 
 Long with her destiny; but she sleeps well 
 By the sea-shore, whereon she loved to dwell." 
 
 THE failure of the assault on Quebec made the retreat 
 of the American forces inevitable. Arnold, hoping against 
 hope, delayed the movement to the latest moment of safety. 
 Spring was approaching, and with it a powerful army for 
 the relief of the garrison. He could wait no longer. At 
 Montreal he halted to rest and recruit his men. Here 
 Aaron Burr determined to return immediately to the field 
 of active service at home, and here he formed the acquaint 
 ance of a lady, who, by one of those mysterious dispensa 
 tions which we first wonder at, and then dismiss from our 
 minds as incomprehensible, became the innocent cause of 
 every calamity that saddened his after life. At this time 
 she was on a visit to her relatives in Canada. The break 
 ing out of the Revolution had found her there, and the 
 hostile disposition of the Indians had hitherto prevented 
 her from attempting to return. Learning that Major 
 Burr, at the head of some discharged soldiers, was about 
 leaving Montreal for New York, she eagerly availed 
 herself of this opportunity to return to her home. Thus 
 began an intimacy which brought many sorrows to 
 one, and terminated in the madness of the other. Just 
 eighteen years of age, beautiful as Helen when she first 
 
 (57) 
 
58 THE RIVALS. 
 
 listened to the whispered tale of Menelaus; enriched by 
 many accomplishments, and possessed of an intellect to 
 which the term genius most appropriately applies, it 
 would have been natural enough for the young soldier to 
 have surrendered heart and mind to the lovely being under 
 his charge. That he did not, may be attributed partly to 
 the absence of that inexplicable sympathy that all of us 
 have felt and none of us are able to describe ; and partly 
 to the fact that his country had just entered upon a war 
 of uncertain duration and equally uncertain results. The 
 next year, or the next month, according to the chances of 
 battle, might crown him a victor or conduct him to a 
 felon s doom. At such a time his thoughts were upon 
 bloody fields, not bridal raptures ; upon iron chains, not 
 rosy fetters. The hoarse drum and the piercing fife 
 echoed in his ears ; not the soft lute or the melting lyre. 
 The spells of beauty were counteracted by the incanta 
 tions of patriotism, and the dangerous association awak 
 ened no emotion stronger than friendship. Not so with 
 her. Young, ardent, full of hope and health and fervent 
 passion, she raised the fiery goblet to her lips and drained 
 it to the dregs. Adelaide Clifton loved; loved as they 
 love for whom the wide earth has no enjoyment that does 
 not center in the worshiped idol. That miserable com 
 pound of animal appetite, mental weakness, and childish 
 vanity, so often misnamed love, came not near the clear 
 mind and strong heart of the gifted girl. She loved 
 Aaron Burr, not because he told her she was beautiful; 
 not because he had pleased her vanity, and excited a kind 
 of sickly gratitude by extravagant eulogies of her many 
 perfections ; but because he was eminently endowed with 
 those high qualities which make their way to the heart 
 through the brain, and win esteem before they ask a more 
 tender regard. To a mind matured beyond his years, he 
 
THE KIVALS. 59 
 
 added the chivalrous bearing, the manly self-reliance, the 
 exquisite polish, and the habitual deference for the fairer 
 sex, of a knight of the olden time. To be intimately asso 
 ciated with such a man, and to become, on their rough 
 journey, the recipient of these delicate attentions that so 
 plainly distinguish the man and the gentleman from the 
 brute or the fop, was a trial beyond her strength, and she 
 discovered, almost without knowing how, that her heart had 
 gone out from her keeping.* Yet her sense of maiden deli 
 cacy was so strong, and her secret was so carefully guarded, 
 that he, with all his tact, with all his precocious knowledge 
 of human nature, never suspected her of cherishing a feel 
 ing that might become dangerous to her peace. Still less 
 did he imagine that in a few brief months his name would 
 be associated with hers in a tale of calumny that has come 
 down to the present day, and is still occasionally repro 
 duced by good-natured newspaper editors, from a com 
 mendable desire to gratify the public appetite for scandal. 
 Conscious of having said nothing, and done nothing, that 
 a courteous gentleman ought to have left unsaid or un 
 done, he could not see the necessity of dropping the 
 acquaintance of an intelligent friend, because she hap 
 pened to be also a beautiful woman. Accordingly, upon 
 the termination of their journey, he continued to visit her 
 almost daily, and thus gave color to the accusations that 
 in a short time blackened her character, and attached a 
 dishonorable brand to his own good name. 
 
 On his arrival in New York, Major Burr repaired to 
 the headquarters of the commander-in-chief, where he had 
 been previously informed a staff appointment awaited him. 
 His good conduct on the march through the wilderness, 
 and the dauntless courage he had subsequently manifested 
 under the walls of Quebec, had not escaped the attention 
 of that illustrious man, and the young soldier was promptly 
 
60 THE KIVALS. 
 
 rewarded by the tender of a situation in the general s own 
 military family. Thus far the success or failure of our 
 hero had depended upon himself alone. Thus far he had 
 encountered none but generous rivalries. Henceforth he 
 was fated to become the subject of envious intrigues and 
 malignant calumnies, to which there never was a man 
 whose character and temper made him a more unresisting 
 victim. Looking down with a lofty scorn both upon the 
 intriguer and the slanderer, he forgot that creeping things 
 are sometimes deadly, and permitted the reptiles that had 
 stung him to crawl away unharmed. Silence was the only 
 weapon he ever opposed to the most venomous secret as 
 sault, a silence which, however it may illustrate the 
 grand proportions of his nature, was yet fatal to his char 
 acter, and deadly in its effects upon his worldly pros 
 perity. More than mortal in his endurance, he paid the 
 penalty that all must pay for surpassing their kind. Rea 
 soning from their own fretful impatience under unjust 
 accusation, and judging others by themselves, the large 
 majority of mankind are apt to conclude that a calumny 
 unrepelled must be true, and to their minds silence only 
 proves the absence of available defense. It is not until 
 the victim has passed away, and much of passion and of 
 prejudice has died with him, that we begin to understand 
 how it is possible for a proud man, conscious of rectitude, 
 and despising from his inmost soul the loathsome charac 
 ter of his assailants, had rather take the chances of an 
 unjust condemnation than submit to the degrading neces 
 sity of establishing by proof his innocence of infamy!") 
 
 These were the alternatives presented to Aaron Burr, 
 lie chose the latter unwisely many will say but whether 
 wisely or unwisely, it was the conclusion of a mind never 
 thrown from its balance, and a heart that was never, in 
 its most unguarded moment, betrayed into littleness. If 
 
THE RIVALS. 61 
 
 he had known who was his enemy, who was the life and 
 soul of the conspiracy, it might have been different, since 
 it is certain that he could have had no excuse for a con 
 temptuous disregard of assaults from such a quarter. 
 The name of that enemy that rival has since become 
 inseparably blended with the history of a continent. A 
 West Indian by birth, a soldier by nature, possessing 
 talents of the highest order, a commanding person, and 
 a most agreeable address, there was no station to which 
 he might not aspire, as there was unquestionably none to 
 which his attainments were not equal. Happy would it 
 be for his own fame, and happier still for others with whom 
 he was associated, if the pen of history could rest here. 
 But with that brilliant intellect and manly bearing, was 
 blended a moral baseness that charity has no mantle broad 
 enough to cover. With him, Avery aim, eifiijuibject. every, 
 asjriiatiinn of life- oontorod in solf. A soldier of liberty, he 
 fought not to establish human rights, but to gather laurels 
 for his own insatiate brow. The intimate friend of Gen 
 eral Charles Lee, he deserted and betrayed him upon the 
 first appearance of a cloud above his horizon. Indebted 
 to George Washington for a thousand favors, he com 
 plained in private of the asperities of his temper, and 
 questioned his justice. The avowed partisan of John 
 Adams during his presidency, he yet denounced him in his 
 private correspondence as "unfit and incapable," and 
 habitually spoke of him to leading Federalists in terms of 
 harsh injustice. Boasting of his chivalry, he did not hesi 
 tate to pollute the marriage bed, and add to the crime of 
 debauchery the despicable infamy of betraying the woman 
 who had trusted him. Whatever might have been her 
 guilt, 
 
 "Her treachery was truth to him;" 
 6 
 
62 THE RIVALS. 
 
 and when he rewarded her erring affection by pointing her 
 out as a mark for the public scorn, he became himself an 
 object too low for scorn to reach. Jealous, vindictive, 
 unscrupulous; ready to employ any means, however vile, 
 or resort to any artifice, however disreputable, Alexander 
 Hamilton was a man whose enmity it was dangerous to 
 excite, whose friendship it was equally dangerous to trust. 
 ^Aaron Burr wasjilready rega_rded_byjhim as a formidable 
 rival in the race for glory, and this was sufficient of itself 
 to~~galn~~Tns~~eTrm^ To this 
 
 was soon" added the~Tevengeful venom of a rivalry of an 
 other kind. At the house of a friend he accidentally met 
 Adelaide Clifton. His judgment was taken captive by 
 the brilliancy of her conversation, and his West Indian 
 blood was turned to fire by her extraordinary beauty. 
 The acquaintance thus formed was not permitted to lan 
 guish. Every moment of relaxation from his military 
 duties was devoted to her. Day after day he was by her 
 side. Day after day he exerted to the utmost those fas 
 cinating powers that he had as yet found no woman able 
 to resist. That she was pleased with his society, and flat 
 tered by his attentions, admitted of no question, and her 
 practiced wooer spared no exertion to improve the favor 
 able position he had gained. Quietly and artfully he had 
 extracted from her a knowledge of her tastes, and her 
 favorite pursuits; of the books she read, the authors she 
 most admired ; the virtues most esteemed, and the vices 
 most abhorred. With the hand of a master he touched 
 the chords on which she had unconsciously taught him to 
 play. The evident pleasure and the close attention with 
 which she listened, raised flattering hopes in his bosom ; 
 and, ignorant that her heart was anothers, he exulted in 
 the conviction that every hour brought him nearer to the 
 accomplishment of his purpose. What was that purpose ? 
 
T II E R I V A L S. 63 
 
 Honorable marriage ? Oh, no ! He had learned, by dili 
 gent inquiry, that she was comparatively poor, and desti 
 tute of influential friends. It did not suit his ambitious 
 schemes to link himself, at such a time, to one who would 
 be a clog upon his advancement; or, if not an absolute 
 hinderance, at least incapable of pushing him up the ascent 
 he was beginning to climb. Yet while his ambition con 
 trolled his passion so far as to deprive it of all honorable 
 aims, it diminished none of its fiery intensity, and only 
 served to divert it into the channels of criminal gratification. 
 
 Weeks passed away. In the year 1776, there were 
 in the City of New York such things as gardens, and 
 flowers, and shady walks, in places that have since been 
 converted into the dusty thoroughfares of commerce. 
 
 Latterly, Alexander Hamilton had impatiently watched 
 for an opportunity to declare the passion that consumed 
 him, and his very soul was burning to hear the blushing 
 avowal of its return, that he doubted not would follow. 
 
 The opportunity he had longed for came at length, under 
 circumstances as favorable as he could desire. The hour 
 was twilight the time the dreamy month of May, when 
 the heart is always full, and the blood dances gladly through 
 the throbbing veins. The broad moon had just risen above 
 the horizon, bathing spire and cupola in its mellow rays 
 mingling sweetly with the opening bud and the blooming 
 flower, and clothing in robes of richer beauty the green 
 turf on which it rested. Seated in a bower of fragrant 
 honeysuckles, Adelaide Clifton was listening in rapt at 
 tention to the music of his eloquence. Turning from the 
 scenes about him, he transported her to the sea-girt isle in 
 which his infant eyes had first opened to the light of day, 
 and the happiest years of his youth flew over on sinless 
 wings. He painted for her a clime where frosts never 
 come, and the year knows no changes, except from the 
 
64 THE RIVALS. 
 
 balmy spring to the glorious summer; where the green 
 tree never sheds its leaves, and the rose that drops from its 
 stem, scorched and withered at noonday, is replaced before 
 morning by another, sweeter and lovelier, that the dews 
 of night have nourished into life; where the plumage of 
 the birds that throng the deep woods, and feast on the 
 luscious fruits of the tropics, are variegated as the rainbow, 
 and the rich music of their songs swells like a choral anthem 
 from the spirit-land ; where the maiden slumbers by bubbling 
 fountains, in gardens of perfume, until the evening shadows 
 have relieved the fiery sun, and the moon and the stars in 
 vite her forth to revel in the glorious beauties of heaven arid 
 dream of the wilder raptures of earth! All the pictures 
 his memory supplied of that luxurious clime, were placed 
 before her. Nor did he pause here. He knew the power of 
 sympathy over the female heart, and gradually led his willing 
 listener among the varied scenes that had grown familiar 
 to him in his adventurous life. He described the sea when 
 the tempest was unchained, and the strong bark shivered, 
 and the stout mast reeled and cracked at the whirlwind s 
 breath. He told her of nights upon the trackless deep, 
 when the heavens were hung with black, and not a star 
 looked down upon the inky flood ; of the wild roar of the 
 breakers as the doomed vessel dashed among their foamy 
 crests; of the despairing cries of the struggling victims; 
 and finally, of the delirious joy of the fortunate few whom 
 the waves had thrown, stunned and bruised, upon the sandy 
 beach ! 
 
 The genuine pathos of his narrative was heightened by 
 its truth, and its effect was the more marked because he 
 painted nothing that he had not seen, and gave voice to no 
 emotion that he had not felt. A stray moonbeam had 
 stolen through the trellised vines and rested on the cheek 
 of Adelaide Clifton. By its light Hamilton saw that 
 
THE HIVALS. 65 
 
 she was in tears tears for his sufferings, his perils, his 
 escape. 
 
 "How little do we know," he went on, without seeming 
 to notice them, "the changes that are before us! Eighteen 
 years had not darkened the down on my lip when I ex 
 changed the dreamy isle for the boisterous ocean ; the 
 luxurious couch for the hard bed on the rocky shore. 
 Other changes also came; and now, at an age when the 
 boy is scarcely merged in the man, the merchant s pen is 
 thrown aside for the warrior s arms. Perhaps the next 
 change will stretch me upon a bloody field, over which the 
 gorged vulture flaps his lazy wing. All beyond to-morrow 
 is unknown. Of one thing only can we be always sure. 
 Future joys may glide away like the cooling waters that 
 rose to the lips of Tantalus, whenever we attempt to taste 
 them ; but the present is ours. Ours, not only in the en 
 joyments it offers to-day, but in the memories it sends with 
 us to gladden the coming time. Grief and pain, sickness 
 and wounds, are robbed of their bitterness when there is 
 one blessed hour upon which we can look back and feel that 
 it is beyond the power of fate to deprive us of the raptures 
 it brought." 
 
 " It may be as you say, Captain Hamilton," she replied; 
 "but what are they to do for whom the past has no rap 
 tures ? whose eyes, turned back upon the vista of years, 
 rest only upon images of sorrow ?" 
 
 " To one whose years had really been so saddened, I 
 would say, look forward, forward evermore, and conquer 
 the gloom of yesterday by anticipating the brightness of 
 to-morrow. But why do you ask ? The question can be 
 of no interest to you." 
 
 "More," was the mournful rejoinder, "much more than 
 you, perhaps, imagine." 
 
 6* 
 
66 THE RIVALS. 
 
 Then, as if afraid of having disclosed more than she 
 wished to reveal, she added, 
 
 "Just now you yourself painted the future as unknown 
 and uncertain. What right have I to claim exemption from 
 the common lot? Why to me, more than others, should 
 the sunshine come unmingled with tears?" 
 
 "Because you are better, and fairer, and lovelier. Be 
 cause the Creator permitted you to stray from your home 
 among the angels, in mercy, not in anger. Because you 
 came to chase away the bitterness of earth, not to partake 
 of its sufferings." 
 
 "Captain Hamilton," she replied, "must pardon me for 
 doubting the soundness of an argument which he found it 
 necessary to clothe in such extravagance of flattery." 
 
 "Flattery!" he exclaimed. " Oh, Adelaide ! it is not 
 unfrequently the curse of men who feel as I do, to have the 
 feeblest expression of their sentiments mistaken for the 
 language of compliment. Flattery 1 Great God ! Does the 
 Persian dream of flattering the Sun when he kneels before 
 his fire -crowned altar, and, in the gorgeous poesy of the 
 East, hymns the praises of his burning idol? Yet in what 
 Persian breast ever throbbed a wilder idolatry than mine ? 
 From the first moment I beheld you, my soul went out from 
 my keeping. I did not love ; no, Adelaide, I worshiped ! 
 And when I wished to tell you of it when, again and 
 again, the strong impulse was upon me to ask you to listen, 
 I paused and hesitated, because it seemed to me that lan 
 guage had no words to syllable the intensity of that adora 
 tion. Even now," he continued, taking her hand in his, 
 " I am tortured by the dark fear that I have but poorly 
 made you comprehend how entirely every thought, and 
 feeling, and desire, save one, have been swallowed up. 
 How completely one word of yours will bless, how hope- 
 
THE RIVALS. 67 
 
 lessly one other word will blast, the morning of my exist 
 
 ence. 
 
 The hand he had seized remained for a moment in his 
 clasp. The fragile form of the lovely girl shrank and shiv 
 ered like the aspen when the north wind is blowing. A 
 flood of tears came to her relief; and, snatching her hand 
 hastily away, she exclaimed, in tones of earnest, deep, and 
 strong emotion, 
 
 " Forgive me! oh, forgive me, Captain Hamilton! for, 
 as Heaven is my witness, I never dreamed of this. I do 
 not cannot love you; and if I have done anything to 
 encourage your hopes, I have been deeply criminal. Pity 
 me, and forgive me !" 
 
 "There is nothing to forgive, Adelaide. I was a slave 
 before I had time to think of encouragement. Mine is a 
 love that would have blossomed alike under cheering smiles 
 or menacing frowns. It came unbidden it will abide with 
 me here; and when the curtain drops upon the stage of 
 life, it will travel with me through the countless ages of the 
 world to come. But you are too deeply agitated to listen 
 further now. In a few days I shall see you again. Until 
 then, I will try to drive off despair. Good night, and 
 may the angels send messengers of bliss to people your 
 dreams 1" 
 
 What were the feelings of that bold and gifted, though 
 eminently bad and dangerous man, as he traversed the streets 
 of the silent city ? Stung, wounded, almost maddened, by 
 the repulse he had met, he walked rapidly on, trying to think, 
 yet feeling that thought was impossible. Arrived at his 
 own quarters, he extinguished the light, and threw himself, 
 dressed as he was, upon the bed. 
 
 "At least," he said, when the chaos of his feelings had 
 assumed some degree of order, "at least I have made no 
 unnecessary or embarrassing disclosures. She thinks my 
 
68 THE KIVALS. 
 
 purposes were honorable, and, come what may, my charac 
 ter is safe." 
 
 From this villainous consolation, he turned to other 
 views of his situation. He ran over in his mind all that 
 had occurred since their first introduction. He recalled 
 every look, and tone, and gesture. He remembered the 
 minutest shade that had passed over her expressive counte 
 nance. He taxed his ingenuity to find some plausible 
 ground to hope that perseverance might still be rewarded 
 by success. It was in vain. The earnest truthfulness of 
 her words and manner her agitation her unconcealed 
 distress left no room to believe that the avowal of his 
 passion had excited any feelings but those of unmixed 
 pain. 
 
 "How," he inwardly asked, "could I have deceived my 
 self so egregiously? I would have sworn that she was 
 prepared for, and expected a declaration. Surely I have 
 not been such a fool and puppy as to imagine a preference 
 where none existed !" 
 
 Captain Hamilton was well aware that the most astute 
 and self-possessed of human beings are not unfrequently 
 enticed into grave errors by that little bewitching demon, 
 Yanity; and therefore he suspected himself of construing 
 mere evidences of friendship into manifestations of a warmer 
 regard. The more he reasoned, the more apparent did it 
 become to him that he had been unwittingly hugging a 
 charming delusion to his bosom. In his mortification at 
 the discovery, he passed to the opposite extreme, and bit 
 terly cursed his own stupid blindness. Captain Hamilton 
 did himself injustice ; a fact that we chronicle the more 
 readily, because it was not one to which he was often ad 
 dicted. Adelaide Clifton did prefer his society to that of 
 the men who were constantly about her, and she had taken 
 no pains to conceal it. A man less under the influence of 
 
THE RIVALS. 69 
 
 passion than he was, and therefore more capable of reason 
 ing clearly, might easily have mistaken the character of the 
 preference unquestionably exhibited, and have acted upon 
 that impression without subjecting himself to the suspicion 
 of inordinate vanity. 
 
 The character of Alexander Hamilton was too strong 
 and decided to admit of long indulgence in unavailing re 
 proaches. He did not yet despair of eventual success, and 
 his thoughts were occupied in endeavoring to devise some 
 means of extracting a triumph from apparent defeat. He 
 was conscious that a renewal of his suit at present would 
 be useless ; but he knew the value of perseverance, and 
 hoped that the high opinion she evidently entertained of 
 his character and acquirements might be improved and 
 strengthened, until love took the place of friendship, and, 
 in some unguarded moment, virtue fell a victim to passion. 
 
 Morning found him tossing upon a pillow that sleep had 
 not visited. At daybreak he went forth as usual to attend 
 to his military duties. He had fixed upon no plan, and 
 resolved for awhile to trust to the chapter of accidents. 
 For two days she did not see him. On the third he pur 
 posely called at an hour when he was almost certain of 
 meeting other visitors. He was desirous to avoid the 
 embarrassment of a tete-d-tete at the first interview after 
 the rejection of his suit, and selected his hour accordingly. 
 As he hoped and expected, he found that she was not 
 alone ; but her visitor was the last man on earth he desired 
 to meet in that presence, as he was certainly the one whose 
 rivalry he most dreaded both in love and in war. Per 
 fectly unconscious of the secret feelings of Hamilton, 
 Major Burr rose to greet him with easy courtesy, on his 
 entrance, and exhibited neither surprise nor curiosity at 
 the embarrassment he could not help remarking in his 
 manner. Adelaide Clifton was a little flurried and excited, 
 
70 THE RIVALS. 
 
 but Major Burr gave the conversation a direction that put 
 them both at ease. 
 
 At this time, and indeed throughout the revolution 
 ary war, the duties of General Washington, his cares and 
 anxieties, were by no means confined to the army. The 
 affairs of a whole continent were on his shoulders, and 
 every important resolution of Congress, upon every conceiv 
 able subject, was more or less influenced by his suggestions. 
 Under such circumstances he was necessarily compelled to 
 impose upon his aids a life of incessant labor. No leisure 
 was left them to pay visits of courtesy or friendship, and it 
 thus happened that Hamilton had not heretofore met Ma 
 jor Burr at the house where Miss Clifton was sojourning; 
 nor was he previously aware that there was any acquaint 
 ance between them. He now learned for the first time that 
 she had traveled from Canada under his protection. Jeal 
 ousy is a keen sharpener of the vision. Shakspeare tells us 
 
 that 
 
 "Trifles light as air, 
 Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
 As proofs of holy writ." 
 
 And that great master of the human heart might have 
 added, that these trifles are not always wrong indices to the 
 truth. Sometimes they must very often they may lead us 
 widely into error ; but there are other times when they invest 
 the judgment with the quickness and the certainty of intui 
 tion. His thoughts once directed into the right channel, 
 Hamilton perceived what Burr himself had never sus 
 pected. The cause of Miss Clifton s extraordinary distress 
 on hearing a declaration of love from his lips was now 
 easily understood. Giving to his rival no higher credit 
 for virtuous self-denial than he was conscious of possessing 
 himself, and believing that the same reasons that prevented 
 him from offering his hand to Adelaide Clifton in lawful 
 
THE RIVALS. 71 
 
 marriage would have the same influence over Major Burr, 
 Hamilton persuaded himself that the lovely girl had be 
 come a victim to the arts of a seducer, or, if not already 
 degraded, that her ruin could not long be delayed. The 
 wound inflicted by the persuasion of his rival s bad triumph 
 carried along with it a balm. It furnished an excuse for 
 relentless hostility. If anything should occur to expose 
 the vindictiveness of his hatred, he had only to point to 
 the murdered innocence of Adelaide Clifton for his justifi 
 cation. It was not pleasant to have the keen eye of Burr 
 resting upon him while such thoughts filled his mind ; and, 
 pleading indispensable business as an excuse, he rose to 
 take his departure. Burr also took his leave ; and Hamil 
 ton noticed with a pang that while his own adieus were 
 politely returned, she extended her hand to Burr, say 
 ing, 
 
 "You are so infrequent a visitor that I must bid you a 
 more earnest good-by." 
 
 For nearly the length of a square they walked on to 
 gether, conversing about the probable movements of the 
 enemy, and agreeing in the opinion that General Washing 
 ton would soon be compelled to evacuate the city. They 
 separated on terms of apparent cordiality Burr to return 
 to headquarters, Hamilton to mature the dark scheme that 
 was just beginning to assume a distinct form in his busy 
 brain. A perfect master of the arts of dissimulation, he 
 generally contrived to conceal from the public the terrible 
 passions by which he was often shaken. Few were aware 
 of the malignity habitually cherished by the polished gen 
 tleman and the dashing soldier, and none suspected the low 
 intrigues and the vile expedients to which he was capable 
 of resorting to injure an enemy or supplant a rival. 
 
 It was not many days after the last meeting between 
 Burr and Miss Clifton, before he perceived that the man- 
 
72 THE RIVALS. 
 
 ners of the commander-in-chief were growing cold and 
 distant. He felt this the more keenly because the position 
 he now held had been in a manner forced upon him. He 
 had been called into the general s military family in oppo 
 sition to his desires, and had only accepted the appoint 
 ment on account of the importunities of his friends. The 
 clerkly labors to which so much of his time was devoted 
 were not to his taste. He felt that he had the capacity to 
 perform other and higher services. He panted for a com 
 mission in the line, which would give him a wider field for 
 exertion. Still, however distasteful might be his present 
 duties, he was conscious of having discharged them well 
 and faithfully. He could imagine no cause for General 
 Washington s displeasure, and was far too high spirited to 
 make inquiries, or volunteer explanations unasked. By de 
 grees a report gained currency at headquarters that Gen 
 eral Washington was seriously offended by the scandal of 
 an amour in which, it was said, one of his staff had borne 
 a disreputable part. 
 
 No one was pointed out as the guilty individual, and 
 Burr took no notice of the report. Others did not exhibit 
 a like independence of character. Each one was anxious 
 to exculpate himself, and very soon it was settled that 
 Aaron Burr was the member of the staff to whom allusion 
 was made. His school-boy reputation for gallantry was 
 remembered, and recited with the usual embellishments and 
 exaggerations, and a hundred other circumstances, unim 
 portant in themselves, were so arranged as to give proba 
 bility to the charge. It was not an offense punishable by 
 military law, and it was probably on that account that the 
 general made no public inquiries. It may be, also, he ex 
 pected that the accused party, from a desire to retain the 
 good opinion of his commander, would seek an opportunity 
 to exculpate himself if possible, and not wait to be ques- 
 
THE KIVALS. 73 
 
 tioned or formally accused. Judging from what would 
 have been the conduct of ninety-nine men in a hundred, 
 this expectation was reasonable. In Burr s case it was un 
 reasonable : first, because he had never heard the accusa 
 tion until after he had been deeply wounded by the ex 
 treme, and to him unaccountable, coldness of the general. 
 In the second place, if he had heard it, he would have 
 scorned to enter the lists against an anonymous slanderer, 
 or engage in the task of repelling charges that could be 
 traced to no responsible source. Angry and indignant at 
 being suspected on such testimony, or rather on no testi 
 mony, he drew about him a mantle of haughty reserve 
 which had very much the air of defiance, and was certainly 
 so construed. His situation was thus rendered so disa 
 greeable that he resolved to leave the army, and wrote 
 Governor Hancock to that effect. 
 
 While things were in this state of quasi hostility be 
 tween him and the commander-in-chief, he happened to be 
 present when a communication was received from a com 
 mittee of Congress. Burr was standing immediately be 
 hind General Washington s chair. Accidentally turning 
 his head, and observing the position of his aid, the general 
 suspected that he had been reading the document over his 
 shoulder, and instantly demanded, 
 
 " How dare you, sir, venture upon the liberty of reading 
 a paper in my hands?" 
 
 Already goaded to the extreme limit of endurance, this 
 second insulting suspicion was more than the high-spirited 
 soldier could bear. Drawing up his slender form, and look 
 ing his commander full in the face, he sternly replied, 
 
 "When your Excellency puts to me such a question in 
 such a tone, the only reply that self-respect permits me to 
 make is, that Aaron Burr dares do anything 1" 
 
 Then, turning on his heel, he sought his own quarters, for 
 7 
 
74 THE RIVALS. 
 
 the purpose of drawing up and tendering his resignation. 
 There he found a letter from Governor Hancock, protest 
 ing against his leaving the service, and offering to procure 
 him a more agreeable situation on the staff of General Put 
 nam. Under the circumstances, Governor Hancock s prof 
 fer was gladly accepted, and Burr and the commander-in- 
 chief parted with feelings of mutual dislike that were never 
 eradicated. 
 
 The first blow, and a mighty one, had been struck. Dealt 
 by an unseen hand, it fell with crushing power on the vic 
 tim at which it was aimed. Hamilton had accurately cal 
 culated, from the known strictness of Washington s prin 
 ciples, that the surest method of bringing down his 
 displeasure upon any individual was to blacken his moral 
 character. His own base designs upon Adelaide Clifton 
 furnished him a hint that he was not slow to improve. It 
 is probable, also, that he really believed Burr s intercourse 
 with the fair girl had not been guiltless. But whether 
 such was his own belief or not, it was the chord he knew 
 would vibrate most harshly in the bosom of the coinmand- 
 er-in-chief ; and to that he addressed himself with a skill 
 that Talleyrand, at a later day, might have envied. Dark 
 hints and innuendoes were followed by more distinct 
 charges, and these were supported by an array of circum 
 stances that would have astonished Burr, if he had been 
 inclined to enter upon a defense of his character. This 
 course he refused to take, partly from personal pride, and 
 partly because another was implicated, whose sensibilities 
 must be deeply wounded by learning that her chastity had 
 become the subject of public discussion. 
 
 This honorable care for the feelings of an outraged wo 
 man turned out to be only a temporary mercy. No society 
 is free from the tale-bearer. Adelaide Clifton was not 
 long kept in ignorance that her name had become a hissing 
 
THE RIVALS. 75 
 
 and a reproach. Her delicate nerves were shattered" by 
 the shock. Reason tottered on its throne, and the lovely 
 and innocent one was borne back to her home a raving 
 maniac. In the paroxysms of her delirium, her burning 
 love for Aaron Burr found utterance. Sometimes she 
 would imagine he was seated by her side, and for hours she 
 would lavish endearing caresses upon some object that she 
 had mistaken for the idol madness had no power to drive 
 from her bosom. Then again, when fancy changed the 
 picture, and he appeared to her distempered mind cold or 
 unfaithful, agonizing sobs would choke her utterance, and 
 scalding tears blister her faded cheeks. Now she saw 
 him returning victorious from the battle-field, and proud 
 and lofty were the words that welcomed the coming of her 
 glorious hero. Now she was straying with him beneath 
 the mighty elms where she had played in childhood, and 
 recalling all the innocent memories that made it holy 
 ground to her. At last a sadder vision settled perma 
 nently on her mind : she imagined that he had been struck 
 down in his early youth, that she could see the crimson 
 stains upon the white shroud that covered him, and busied 
 herself in washing out the sorrowful tokens. They tore 
 her away from the stone bench she had mistaken for a 
 death-couch, and tried in vain to dispel the illusion. 
 Whenever their vigilance relaxed she flew to that one 
 spot, and throwing herself on her knees pressed a thou 
 sand kisses on its cold and senseless surface. Refusing all 
 sustenance, she gradually wasted away, until Death, in 
 mercy, touched her with his icy dart. 
 
 Not one word did she utter in her ravings to inculpate 
 Burr; yet the devilish ingenuity of malice seized upon her 
 most innocent avowals of affection, and tortured them into 
 damning evidence of his guilt. The dreadful wrong, 
 which had blighted the reason and withered the frame of 
 
76 THE RIVALS. 
 
 one of the loveliest of her sex, drew from the ruin it had 
 wrought new weapons for future mischief. The dark pen 
 alty of crime fell upon the innocent. The guilty contriver, 
 the unprincipled intriguer who had created this waste of 
 wretchedness, was unsuspected, and went unpunished, so far 
 as human penalties extend. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 " The devil sits in his easy chair, 
 
 Sipping his sulphur tea; 
 And gazing out with a pensive air, 
 Over the broad bitumen sea." 
 
 ON the staff of General Putnam, Aaron Burr was 
 relieved from the voluminous correspondence that had 
 proved so irksome while in the family of the commander- 
 in-chief. Here he found leisure to devote several hours 
 each day to the study of the military profession, at the 
 same time that his duties in the field were sufficiently active 
 to enable him to turn to practical account the lessons he 
 had learned in the closet. Here, too, he enjoyed a season 
 of comparative repose from the long struggle with calumny 
 that darkened his career from early manhood to the grave. 
 Honored by the warm friendship and unbounded confi 
 dence of his hero-chief, even envy shrunk from the exhi 
 bition of its spleen, and cautious malice paused in the 
 prosecution of its dark designs. But the venom of the 
 viper remained, though its power to wound was suspended. 
 Sleepless eyes were upon him. His acts were stored away 
 in retentive memories, to be drawn out and distorted by 
 practiced ingenuity, when the motives that governed and 
 the circumstances that justified them had become dim and 
 obscure by the lapse of time. Whether he was at that 
 day aware of the persevering hate that dogged his steps, 
 no one ever knew. Throughout his whole life he care 
 fully avoided an exposure of his own wounds, and, like the 
 Spartan youth who permitted the fox, concealed beneath 
 his garments, to gnaw out his vitals, he drew over each 
 
 7* (H) 
 
78 THE RIVALS. 
 
 festering sore a mantle, which hid it alike from the 
 pitying gaze of friends and the triumphant glance of ene 
 mies. In the many trials through which he passed, no 
 opponent ever had the satisfaction of seeing him writhe 
 or hearing him groan. During the first years of the 
 Revolution, his time and thoughts were so fully and so 
 absorbingly occupied that it is probable he was unsuspi 
 cious of any malign influences working for his destruction. 
 Those influences were never at rest. In the very midst 
 of the momentous events that crowded the arena toward 
 the close of 1776, new plans were formed and new con 
 spiracies were hatched. 
 
 The disastrous affair of the 27th of August was over, and 
 the Americans, hemmed in, in the city and island of New 
 York, were daily expecting an attack. The month of Sep 
 tember had set in cold and dreary, and the leaden sky ac 
 corded well with the cheerless city it overhung. In the 
 obscurity of twilight, two men were silently moving along the 
 "Broad Way" (as it was then called) of the City of New 
 York. Early as the hour was, the regulations rendered 
 necessary by the presence of an army expecting an assault, 
 together with the unseasonable severity of the weather, kept 
 the good people of Gotham within doors, and scarcely a 
 sound was heard along the almost deserted street, save the 
 occasional tramp of a patrol of soldiers, or the clatter of 
 horses hoofs, as some aid or orderly dashed along with or 
 ders for the different posts. Our pedestrians walked rapidly 
 on, hardly interchanging a syllable, until they arrived at 
 a hotel of some pretensions, and were ushered into an 
 apartment prepared in anticipation of their coming. One 
 of them was a tall man of forty or forty-five years of age, 
 rather spare made, but muscular and wiry. His forehead 
 was broad and massive, eyes dark gray, mouth large, and 
 lips firmly compressed. There was an air of power about 
 
THE RIVALS. 79 
 
 the whole appearance of the man. You felt that you 
 were in the presence of one who had a head to conceive, 
 a will to dare, and a hand to execute, whatever his interest 
 or his ambition might prompt. The other was Alexander 
 Hamilton. Directing some bottles of wine to be brought, 
 the elder of the two dismissed the obsequious host, and 
 both of them drew chairs to the fire, that was burning in 
 comfortable contrast to the chilly dampness without. 
 Hamilton was the first to speak. 
 
 "Well, Billings," he inquired, "what news do you 
 bring?" 
 
 "Bad enough, Captain Hamilton; the girl is dead." 
 
 "Dead!" exclaimed Hamilton, starting to his feet, and 
 grasping the arm of his companion with convulsive force. 
 "Dead! Is this true? for, mark me, man, it would be 
 safer to put your head in the hungry lion s mouth, than 
 to trifle with me on such a subject." 
 
 "I have not been in the habit," replied the other, his 
 hand slowly stealing beneath the folds of his vest, as if 
 there was something there to which his grasp was accus 
 tomed, and which he desired to clutch, more from habit 
 than from a belief that it would be necessary to use it, 
 "I have not been in the habit of calculating very nicely 
 what might be safe or unsafe, in my dealings with the 
 world ; nor am I much addicted to answering rude ques 
 tions while a ruder grasp is on my arm." 
 
 "This is folly!" muttered Hamilton, releasing his hold. 
 "I mean you no bodily injury. That pistol in your bosom 
 would be a poor protection if I did." 
 
 " May be so ; and I have certainly no wish to put it to 
 the test, though it has never failed me heretofore, and I 
 have no fears that it will fail me hereafter." 
 
 Hamilton resumed his seat in silence. Large drops of 
 perspiration gathered upon his brow, his lip quivered, 
 
80 T H E R I V A L S. 
 
 and his whole frame was convulsed by terrible emotions. 
 The fierce struggle endured for more than a minute, and 
 his voice was choked and husky, as he asked, 
 
 "Did you say Adelaide Clifton was dead? The young, 
 the beautiful, the good; gone, gone forever!" 
 
 "I told you the truth," was the reply; "but it added 
 so little to the sweetness of your temper, that I have no 
 inclination to repeat the story." 
 
 There was another self-struggle. It ended, and Alex 
 ander Hamilton was master of himself. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Billings; I have been foolish and 
 intemperate. If you knew all, you would excuse it." 
 
 " Possibly I may not know all of your share in the busi 
 ness ; ^ but I know more of my own than it is agreeable to 
 reflect upon in a still night and a lonely place. I know 
 that you invented the calumny, and that I circulated it; 
 and although neither of us could foresee the melancholy 
 result, we are none the less guilty of murder." 
 
 "Calumny! I tell you, Billings, that as God is my judge, 
 I believed it at the time. I believed, too, that the story 
 would never reach her ears", for I knew that she was about 
 starting for her home in Connecticut, and I hoped it would 
 die away except in quarters where we might think proper 
 to keep it alive." 
 
 "Then, Captain Hamilton, you have the advantage of 
 me decidedly ; for I never believed a syllable of it, nor did 
 I ever doubt but that some kind friend would communicate 
 to her all that was said, together with whatever additions 
 were necessary to fill up any little omissions in the pleasing 
 tale. But this is profitless. The question is not what de 
 gree of guilt attaches to either of us, but rather how we 
 are to turn untoward circumstances to the best account. 
 Before we begin the discussion, you must pardon the liberty 
 I am about to take in offering you some advico I am 
 
THE RIVALS. 81 
 
 nearly double your age, and there are few phases of the 
 human character I have not had occasion to study. The 
 first step toward success in life is self-control. Such out 
 breaks as you have been guilty of to-night are disagreeable 
 to your friends and dangerous to yourself. No man will 
 trust his fortunes in the same boat with yours, if they are 
 continually liable to be upset by ill-governed passions. In 
 the path of ambition you have deliberately chosen, you 
 must command your words, your looks, your actions. You 
 must be able to call a gay smile to your lips when neces 
 sary, although the devil is tugging with red-hot pincers at 
 your heart-strings. Avoid self-deception, for of all decep 
 tions it is the least profitable. Look at your acts in the 
 light of their consequences. Weigh those consequences 
 before the act is irrevocable, and not afterwards. If the 
 end to be attained is of sufficient importance to justify the 
 ruin of a dozen honest names, or the breaking of as many 
 gentle hearts why, ruin or break them ; but do it delib 
 erately, and do not fly into a rage with those who may be 
 serviceable, because you are conscious of having been a 
 very naughty boy. Exhibit as much temper as you please ; 
 the oftener the better, since it helps to build up a charac 
 ter for frankness ; but never exhibit it when you fed it, for 
 ninety-nine times in a hundred it will be foolish and im 
 prudent. Genuine feeling is a great drawback, affected 
 feeling a great advantage, to a rising man. Follow this 
 advice implicitly, and there is no eminence you may not 
 hope to attain. History furnishes more than one instance 
 in which a successful soldier, with worse prospects than 
 yours, has won the diadem of a king." 
 
 There was much in the cool and villainous counsel of 
 his confederate -not altogether unfamiliar to Alexander 
 Hamilton; the concluding sentence, too, pointed to a result 
 that he was beginning to contemplate as possible, and to 
 
82 THE RIVALS. 
 
 cherish with a good deal more pleasure than was becoming 
 in a republican soldier. Still he was irritated by the tone 
 of superior wisdom in which it was delivered; and there 
 was a touch of scorn in his reply, from which he did not 
 seek to divest it. 
 
 "Pray, Mr. Billings, how does it happen that you, who 
 know so well the paths to success, have yet missed them 
 so widely?" 
 
 "Your question is natural, and the sneer that accom 
 panied it was natural also ; though, let me tell you, it was 
 far from a wise one. It is one of the very indiscretions 
 against which I have been warning you. A revengeful 
 man would remember it to your prejudice, and some day do 
 you a mischief on account of it. I shall only register it 
 as the second folly of which you have been guilty in the 
 last half hour. And now, to answer your inquiry, I might 
 say that I had failed for the want of your genius, your 
 capacity, or your accomplishments, and your vanity would 
 accept the explanation. I choose to be more candid. In 
 my youth, there was no such revolution as this of the colo 
 nies in progress, or in contemplation. The opportunities 
 that you possess were therefore denied to me ; and this ex 
 planation would be as soothing to my vanity as the other 
 would be to yours. To another than yourself, it is all that 
 I would give ; but, as I have just warned you against self- 
 deception, I must not give you occasion to suspect me of 
 belying my own theory. 1 failed, because my knowledge 
 came after my character was gone. Put the devil him 
 self upon earth ; let it be known that he is the devil, and 
 he could not mislead a child. At the commencement of 
 my career, I was in possession of a fair fortune and a fair 
 character. Both were dissipated in gambling hells, and 
 other resorts of vice and immorality. What mattered it 
 that in the mean time I had acquired an amount of knowl- 
 
THE RIVALS. 88 
 
 edge and of self-control that would have been invaluable 
 a few years earlier ! The road to what men call honorable 
 ambition was barricaded against the broken-down gambler 
 and debauchee. Instead of a struggle for power and place, 
 my life became a struggle for bread ; and when at last I had 
 accumulated wealth, the means by which it was acquired 
 were so questionable, that I did not care to give occasion 
 for impertinent inquiries by placing my name before the 
 public. I believe it is not necessary to extend my confes 
 sion any further, unless you are curious to know my history, 
 from the period of leaving England up to the time of re 
 ceiving on board my ship the beautiful quadroon whose 
 black eyes your respected father erroneously supposed 
 might prove dangerous to the peace of his hopeful son." 
 
 Hamilton writhed like a wounded serpent under this 
 allusion to his earliest amour. 
 
 "Man!" he exclaimed "man or demon, you try me 
 too far ! If you must talk of the past, give me a history 
 of your own exploits among the buccaneers ?" 
 
 There was not the slightest change in the countenance 
 of the hardened man he addressed ; not a quiver in his 
 voice, as he replied, - 
 
 " I do not remember to have seen the name of Billings 
 in the list of buccaneers ; although, like other curious peo 
 ple, I read everything that was published about them. I 
 suppose, therefore, that your suspicions have originated 
 from some other circumstance. Will it be taxing your 
 kindness too much to inquire what it is?" 
 
 "No matter," said Hamilton, who had recovered his 
 composure. "It is no matter. We have both been wrong 
 in referring to things that had better be forgotten. Let 
 us now turn to the business that brought us here." 
 
 "Very well, if such is your wish; though as it is of in 
 terest to me to know how much, and what kind of suspicion 
 
84 THE RIVALS. 
 
 attaches to my name, I shall probably repeat the question 
 at another time." 
 
 An hour glided off; then another, and the two were still 
 in deep consultation. The drizzling rain without had 
 changed to a driving tempest, and the wind howled angrily 
 along the street. 
 
 "You will stay here to-night," said Billings, walking to 
 the window and listening for a moment to the storm. 
 
 "No. The British may make an attempt upon the city 
 at any moment, and I must be at my post. Our business is 
 arranged, and I can only tarry long enough to take a glass 
 of wine before I go." 
 
 "Your business is arranged, Captain Hamilton, and, to 
 some extent, mine also. In the future, as in the past, you 
 find that my co-operation is essential to your success. It 
 has been freely given, and I trust you will not consider me 
 unreasonable in desiring to be informed to what circum 
 stance I am indebted for the suspicion of piracy with which 
 you have honored me." 
 
 "You take up a hasty expression too seriously, Billings. 
 It were better to forget it." 
 
 "I am indebted to hasty expressions for getting on the 
 track of many a truth ; and, besides, I know you would not 
 hazard such an accusation, unless you fully believed you 
 could prove it." 
 
 "In public, certainly I would not; but it was made to 
 you alone, and at a time when you had pressed sorely on a 
 very tender place." 
 
 "Arid therefore the more likely to be earnest and sincere. 
 Come, Captain, let us have the story!" 
 
 "I tell you again, Billings, it is better to let it sleep 
 where it is. Neither you nor I have anything to gain by 
 raking up the ashes of the past." 
 
 "Let us understand each other," replied his comrade, in 
 
THE RIVALS. 85 
 
 a tone of calm but fixed resolution. "I have served you 
 zealously, and propose to serve you still more. Chiefly, I 
 admit, because I believe it my interest to do so. Some 
 times I think there is one crazy streak in this usually cloud 
 less brain of mine, and that is the firm belief that you are 
 destined to attain the highest place the new world has to 
 give. Ambition was not crushed in me by the early vices 
 that made its pursuit a folly, and I look forward to the 
 time when you will have honors and titles to bestow, as the 
 period of my own triumph and reward. You hold me, 
 therefore, by a strong chain but it may be broken. Aaron 
 Burr is not my rival in love, or in war. I have no personal 
 motive to lessen his just fame. I have no wrong to com 
 plain of no revenge to gratify. If the fancy should strike 
 me that my aims might as well be advanced by transferring 
 my services to him, I could crush you in an hour. In what 
 light would you be esteemed by the stern chief who leads 
 your armies, and from whom at present all honor flows, if 
 Carlota s story was whispered in his ears? Or, suppose I 
 should come down to a later day, and draw a picture of a 
 gallant soldier, blackened by calumny, and a gentle maiden 
 driven in madness to the grave, through your contrivances, 
 how would that severely just and upright man reward the 
 conduct of his subordinate ? With all his great, and, to 
 me, incomprehensible qualities, he is human at last, and the 
 weight of his displeasure would not be lessened by the re 
 flection that he had been your dupe." 
 
 At this point he paused, as if to mark the effect of his 
 words ; and Hamilton, striking the table with his clenched 
 hand, fiercely exclaimed, 
 
 "Go on, sir! Let me hear the full extent of your 
 threats!" 
 
 "I mean not to threaten; nor do I wish to excite your 
 anger. I only meant to show that perfect confidence be- 
 
86 THE RIVALS. 
 
 tween us is essential to the safety of both. When I am 
 certain that you hold in your hands, or believe you do, the 
 secret means of inflicting on me a deadly injury, I may well 
 suspect that you contemplate paying my services in that 
 coin, if my demands should become importunate. This 
 suspicion once fixed, would naturally lead me to strike the 
 first blow, and thus lessen your power, by destroying your 
 character. Remember that I have made no pretensions to 
 disinterested motives, nor would you have believed me if I 
 had. I serve you because I expect to obtain certain de 
 sirable objects through you. If you take away that mo 
 tive if you lead me to believe that you intend to use, and 
 then discard me, you will not only lose the services of a 
 valuable auxiliary, but gain the determined hostility of a 
 dangerous enemy. I do not think that you have any desire 
 to do either, and I am sure that a little reflection will con 
 vince you that it is reasonable and right to give me the 
 information I ask." 
 
 The changing features of Alexander Hamilton betrayed 
 the terrific emotions which agitated him, as his merciless 
 ally thus plainly depicted the nature of the bond between 
 them. Anger, doubt, and apprehension chased each other 
 over his mind. Now he was strongly tempted to draw his 
 dagger and silence forever the confederate who was rapidly 
 becoming his master. Indeed, nothing restrained him but 
 the conviction that a murder would as effectually blast his 
 prospects as any revelations Billings could make. lie saw 
 clearly enough that violence would do no good that con 
 ciliation must be resorted to and, humbling as it was to 
 his proud spirit, he commanded his temper so far as to 
 say, 
 
 " Methinks a grave lecturer on worldly wisdom might 
 have remembered that there are more agreeable ways of 
 extracting information from a man than by holding up 
 
T H E 11 1 V A L S. 8.7 
 
 threats of disgrace as a penalty for silence ; and it might 
 have occurred to Mr. Billings, that the bonds of friendship 
 are not strengthened by boasts of our capacity to harm one 
 another." 
 
 "From you, Captain Hamilton, I do not ask friendship, 
 as the world understands the word, and I should be prac 
 ticing a needless hypocrisy if I professed to feel it toward 
 you. We have a more enduring bond of union than the 
 fragile one of friendship. We are necessary to each other ; 
 and as we have no antipathies to reconcile, and no cause 
 of quarrel to bring one passion in conflict with another, 
 our alliance ought to be permanent. I respect your intel 
 lect, and admire your brilliant qualities. I am well aware 
 that some things I have said this night grated harshly on 
 your ear, and I beg you to believe that it was as disagree 
 able to me to speak them as to you to listen; but it is no 
 time to deal in dainty phrases, when matters of such mo 
 ment are under discussion. What I have said was under 
 the impression that it would remove every cause of misun 
 derstanding from our future intercourse. If it was disa 
 greeable, you may afford to bear it, for I assure you it will 
 never be repeated. I am no pertinacious pedagogue, who 
 insists upon beating his lessons into the brains of a pupil, 
 whether he is willing to receive them or not. You un 
 derstand me, I am sure, and will need no other explana 
 tions." 
 
 "I think not. You have been sufficiently candid and 
 explicit to prevent misapprehension." 
 
 "I so intended. It is always best to have a little rough 
 weather at the beginning of a voyage, than to encounter 
 opposing gales near its close. May I hope that you are 
 about to follow my example ?" 
 
 "I shall certainly no longer refuse a request so pertina 
 ciously preferred ; although it may give you some annoy- 
 
88 THE RIVALS. 
 
 ance, and can be of no profit. At the time you were en 
 gaged in traffic between N"ew York and the West Indies, 
 there was one Roland Williams, a porter in our house at 
 St. Croix. Believing the man might be serviceable, I 
 saved him from the consequences of more than one indis 
 cretion, for which he paid me with a kind of bull-dog 
 gratitude that is, he was ready enough to tear any one to 
 pieces at my bidding, though it was by no means sure that 
 his memory of the kindness was strong enough to prevent 
 him from setting his fangs in my own flesh, if irritated too 
 much. When Carlota was carried away in your vessel, I 
 was angry enough to contemplate a deadly revenge, and I 
 sought Williams s aid to carry it into effect. To my sur 
 prise he manifested some reluctance, and at length I drew 
 from him that he had been a pirate, and sailed under your 
 orders. Your real name, he said, was Wheeler, and he 
 believed that you had once been an officer in the British 
 army. You never returned to St. Croix during my resi 
 dence on the island, and before I met you again I had 
 abandoned my purposed vengeance for a thing in which, 
 after all, you might have been blameless. That is all. I 
 have no other proof, and never sought for any more." 
 "And this Williams, what became of him?" 
 "I do not know. I left him on the island. Perhaps he 
 is there yet. If it is desirable I can easily learn." 
 
 " It is unnecessary. If it should become important 
 hereafter I will trace him up myself. I do not remember 
 the name, and suppose it was an assumed one. It is pro 
 bable," he continued, "that we may not again have occa 
 sion to refer to bygone events ; and in order to remove every 
 possible cause of heart-burning, I desire to say that in the 
 matter of Carlota I was not, as you supposed, an agent em 
 ployed to thwart your wishes. I purchased her on specu 
 lation, for two hundred guineas, knowing nothing of your 
 
THE RIVAL S. 80 
 
 amour at the time. I sold her for three hundred, and the 
 last I heard of her she was happy, and contented with her 
 lot." 
 
 The conversation had reached a point where neither 
 seemed disposed to continue it, and, after a few words 
 of commonplace civility, Hamilton left the hotel, to re 
 pair to his post. James Billings seated himself before 
 the fire, and, leaning back in his arm-chair, mused long and 
 deeply upon his eventful life. The specters of the past 
 flitted rapidly but distinctly before him. One by one the 
 opportunities he had misapplied, the talents he had wasted, 
 the character he had thrown away, rose up before him ; but 
 he neither quailed nor trembled at their presence. Hard 
 as iron in his original nature, he had grown harder and 
 more stubborn with advancing years, and looked back not to 
 regret what was lost, but to calculate how much yet re 
 mained to be accomplished. No thought of repentance 
 and no twinge of remorse was permitted to sadden the 
 retrospect. Yesterday was to him nothing more than a 
 volume of instructions for to-morrow. Slowly and deliber 
 ately his thoughts traveled down to the present time. 
 
 "I am playing a doubtful game," he muttered, "for a 
 heavy stake. Hamilton is an unscrupulous, a bold, and a 
 shrewd man ; so far well. He is gifted with a high, if not 
 the highest, order of genius ; that is better. But his tem 
 per is as fiery as his own West Indian sun, and that may 
 spoil all. I have faith, however, that this fault may be 
 amended. At all events, I must cling to him. There is 
 not another man in the American army who has the small 
 est chance of rising to power, from whom I have anything 
 to expect. There are many, doubtless, to whom the men 
 tion of a diadem would be no unpleasing sound; but they 
 either want the iron inflexibility to grapple with the diffi- 
 
 8* 
 
DO THE RIVALS. 
 
 culties that throng the road to its attainment, or they are 
 troubled by weak scruples about the means to be employed, 
 or they are afflicted by childish dreams of the happiness to 
 be found in republican equality. There is not one who can 
 be trusted to develop schemes like mine ; for he who walks 
 in the paths to which I point should have an ambition as 
 boundless as Lucifer, a will as unchangeable as fate, and a 
 conscience as unimpressible as adamant. He should cast 
 from him honor, virtue, feeling, love of country, love of 
 everything but power. Does Hamilton possess these requi 
 sites? Perhaps not; but no other does; and he approxi 
 mates to the standard, if he does not exactly come up to its 
 measure. In this world we cannot have things as we wish, 
 and the deepest art is displayed in making the best use of 
 the materials at hand. He may fail, and some more fortu 
 nate soldier may succeed in converting his sword into a 
 scepter. In that case, I shall have played the wrong card, 
 and must mend it as I may. The rebellion may be crushed 
 out by Great Britain, and a scaffold become the common 
 doom of the chief adventurers. That chance is a remote 
 one, and, at any rate, it is one against which I cannot pro 
 vide. If successful, he may do as others have done before 
 him, and repay my services by consigning me to exile or a 
 dungeon. That is the least of my apprehensions ; not be 
 cause I have faith in his gratitude, or the gratitude of any 
 thing but dogs and elephants, but because it will be po or 
 management if I do not make myself indispensable to him, 
 no matter to what height he may climb. Let him attain the 
 goal of his ambition, and mine will be likewise won." 
 
 Here the dark schemer rose to his feet, placed his elbow 
 against the mantle-piece, rested his forehead in his open 
 hand, and seemed to gaze intently on the sparks that flew 
 upward from the blazing brands. After awhile he turned 
 to the table, poured out a glass of wine, which he sipped 
 
THE RIVALS. 91 
 
 at intervals until it was emptied, and, replacing the wine 
 glass on the table, resumed his former attitude. 
 
 "I may be traveling too fast," he said, beginning his self- 
 colloquy where he had left off. "I may under-estirnate the 
 danger to be apprehended from Hamilton s want of faith. 
 He treasured up that story of the pirate Williams too care 
 fully, and was altogether too reluctant to tell it. That was 
 a rod he was keeping in pickle for my benefit, in the event 
 that I grew restive ; and in truth it would have done more 
 to tame me than he is aware of, if Adelaide Clifton s brain 
 and heart had not been made of such sensitive material as 
 to wither at the breath of an improbable calumny. I do 
 not think he will use it now. I could retaliate fearfully by 
 revealing the cause of her melancholy fate. Yet it shows 
 he may prove treacherous when his safety allows it. Oth 
 ers, too, over whom he has no influence, may get wind of 
 the story. Williams must be hunted up. I must make a 
 journey to St. Croix, and happily the probable occupation 
 of this city by the British will leave me leisure enough. 
 Whatever Captain Hamilton may know, he shall not retain 
 the power to prove anything dangerous to my safety, if gold 
 or steel will suffice to silence his witness." 
 
 His mind once made up, James Billings wasted no more 
 thought upon the subject. Helping himself again to the 
 wine, he sought his couch and slept as soundly as if no dark 
 crime stained his past life, no present scheme troubled his 
 subtle brain. The habit of watchfulness created by a 
 lifetime of dangers, asserted its supremacy even in sleep, 
 and his very dreams were regulated at pleasure. No fear 
 ful groans, no incoherent expressions, no contortion of the 
 features, betrayed what was passing in that marble breast. 
 His body, like the mausoleum of the dead, gave no out 
 ward token of the gnawing worm or the decaying carcass. 
 Who can tell how much of this was insensibility? how 
 
92 T II E R I V A L S. 
 
 much was the mastery of a steady will over the body s 
 weakness and the mind s infirmities? According to the 
 creed of the moralist, torturing thoughts ought to have 
 been his companions in every hour of solitude. Perhaps 
 they were ; for he was no infidel, no believer in the dark 
 creed that whatever we do has been appointed beforehand ; 
 that no free will is granted us ; and no sin attaches to the 
 darkest of our crimes. He believed in the existence of a 
 God ; he believed in a hereafter ; and sought by no sophis 
 tical reasoning to escape the conviction that he was to be 
 judged there according to the "deeds done in the body. 
 His calmness may therefore have been nothing more than 
 the art of concealing well an art more easily acquired 
 than we are willing to believe. There is no greater mis 
 take than the commonly-received opinion that guilt will 
 show itself in the countenance. An inexperienced offender 
 who, in an unguarded moment, has been hurried into 
 crime, is indeed apt to permit the blush of shame to man 
 tle his cheek ; but it is the most uncertain of all the evi 
 dences of guilt, for that blush is just as likely to be called 
 up by indignation at a wrongful accusation as by confusion 
 at detection. The hardened criminal, who has long trod 
 the mazes of vice, defies your scrutiny and laughs at the 
 crack-brained theories of Lavater. There is a higher per 
 fection of wickedness still. There is an adamantine hard 
 ness of heart, which frightens away the wholesome though 
 painful reflections that are sent in mercy to turn the sinner 
 to repentance. It lives on unawed, unshaken, in the midst 
 of horrors that would blast a bosom less deeply cursed, and 
 smiles at pangs it never felt. For such spirits earth has no 
 punishment : their sentence is reserved for the world to come. 
 As we have said, James Billings was sleeping like an in 
 fant, although his mind had been for the last three hours 
 completely occupied by crimes committed or intended. He 
 
THE RIVALS. 93 
 
 had just informed his guilty confederate of the death of one 
 victim of their dark plottings, and agreed with him upon a 
 precisely similar scheme, which might have a precisely sim 
 ilar result. The story of the seduction of Adelaide Clifton 
 had produced so marked an effect upon the fortunes of Major 
 Burr, that it was supposed a like accusation, supported by 
 plausible circumstances, would completely and forever alien 
 ate the commander-in-chief from that dreaded rival. The 
 devil, they say, is always at hand to help his children at need, 
 and, unfortunately, Major Burr was again surrounded by cir 
 cumstances that materially aided the machinations of his 
 enemies. Such at least was the conclusion of James Bil 
 lings and Alexander Hamilton, after a careful survey of 
 the whole ground of operations, and mature consideration 
 of the consequences of every step to be taken. To ordi 
 nary minds it would have appeared that a stratagem once 
 successfully practiced could not safely be repeated. They 
 reasoned differently. They argued that the very fact that 
 Major Burr had once been accused of a similar offense, 
 would predispose the public mind to believe the new accu 
 sation; and they hoped, not unreasonably, that the scorn 
 ful silence with which lie had treated the former charge 
 would still be persevered in. Toward General Washington 
 especially, they calculated that Major Burr would maintain 
 a haughty reserve; and, in the w r orst aspect of the case, 
 they had provided a mode of escape for themselves, by 
 shifting the paternity of the story to other shoulders. No 
 specter rose up to warn them from the purposed wrong. 
 In a cozy room of a comfortable hotel, a dark and villain 
 ous plot was concocted ; and when the deed was done, the 
 two companions, in seeming unconcern, pledged each other 
 in a cup of rosy wine, and separated with careless words 
 upon their lips the one to mingle unabashed with the gal 
 lant defenders of a holy cause, the other to enjoy the dream 
 less sl^ep of peaceful innocence. 
 
CHAPTER YL 
 
 "Oh, love! what is it in this world of ours 
 Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah! why 
 With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, 
 And made thy best interpreter a sigh ? 
 As those who doat on odors pluck the flowers, 
 And place them in their breast but place to die 
 Thus, the frail beings we would fondly cherish, 
 Are laid within our bosoms but to perish." 
 
 BY one of those chances common in civil wars, Margaret 
 Moncrieffe, the daughter of a major in the British army, 
 had been separated from her father, and was detained as a 
 kind of hostage within the American lines. The proud, 
 spirited girl, irritated by the surveillance to which she 
 was subjected, annoyed by a suspicion, that had somehow 
 gained currency, that she was engaged in communications 
 with the enemy, and mortified by the want of pecuniary 
 means, determined to appeal directly to General Put 
 nam. The kind-hearted old soldier, appreciating her situa 
 tion, and sympathizing with her feelings, promptly for 
 warded an invitation to take up her residence in his family 
 until he could procure her permission to return to her 
 father s protection. At this period she was not more than 
 fourteen years of age, although a woman in physical, and 
 more than a woman in intellectual development. Divinely 
 beautiful, witty, and vivacious, she at once became the 
 charm of the general s family circle, and attracted crowds 
 of admirers to his doors. Domesticated in the same family, 
 her intercourse with Aaron Burr was necessarily frequent; 
 and, as day by day each discovered some new charm in the 
 (94) 
 
THE RIVALS. 95 
 
 other s society, it rapidly grew into intimacy, and then as 
 rapidly ripened into love, a love as yet unspoken, and, 
 perhaps, unacknowledged by either. It was her practice, 
 as she writes in her memoirs, to ascend, in the evening, to 
 the gallery on the top of the house, for the purpose of 
 watching, through a telescope, the "wooden walls of Old 
 England," whose frowning batteries threatened the repub 
 lican city. After awhile, that secluded spot was invested 
 with other attractions. It had become a trysting place. 
 The floating bulwarks that rose and fell with the briny 
 waves, and the white tents that dotted Staten Island, were 
 unheeded. A new and absorbing passion had subdued her 
 natural pride, and abated her natural confidence in British 
 prowess. She had learned to listen for the coming of a 
 rebel step, and hang with rapture upon a rebel s voice. It 
 was impossible that such an intercourse could long continue 
 without finding words to syllable the emotions that filled 
 the heart of each. Suddenly and unexpectedly to both, 
 the avowal came. For many minutes there had been 
 silence; for many minutes they had been holding com 
 munion with each other in the sacred stillness of thought. 
 Turning his gaze from the white waves of the Sound, it 
 rested on the heavenly beauty of the sweet creature by 
 his side. At the same moment her soft eyes were raised 
 lovingly to his. In that one glance was conveyed all the 
 burning passions teach; and the young lover, forgetting 
 that he belonged to his country forgetting that a wall of 
 adamant grew broad and strong between them forgetting 
 all the dictates of prudence threw himself madly at her 
 feet and uttered words which, like the poetry of David, 
 were "spangled with coals of fire." The deep blush which 
 spread over her cheeks, rich and rosy as the glorious paint 
 ing of the sun upon the morning sky, was a whole world 
 of bliss to him ; and the soft hand she laid in his, thrilled 
 
96 THE RIVALS. 
 
 through every fiber with electric force, and sent the wild 
 currents back upon the heart loaded with joy. No word 
 was uttered. No word was needed to the full fruition of 
 his hopes. One hand detained its willing prisoner, and 
 one, encircling her voluptuous waist, drew her toward him 
 unt,il their lips met and grew together. Oh, happy had it 
 been for both if in that hour the thunderbolt had fallen ! 
 Happy had it been if, linked in each other s arms, their 
 souls had taken flight while yet the bloom of innocence was 
 upon them, and neither guilt, nor care, nor torturing sor 
 row stained the opening bud or the springing tree ! Bet 
 ter would the grave have been for her, far better than the 
 guilty pleasures, succeeded by the vain regrets, that check 
 ered her after days I And better would it have been for 
 him to have passed away with his young laurels fresh upon 
 his brow, than to have run a career, splendid indeed at its 
 noon, but, like the hot sun of the tropics, scorching and 
 blasting in its brilliancy, and going down at last behind 
 clouds, and storms, and falling tears 1 
 
 But what did they care for to-morrow? What warning 
 could break the spell of that ungovernable transport? 
 They were riding in a frail and leaky boat, upon the foamy 
 crests of a tempest- shaken sea; but the angry voice of the 
 great deep was unheeded, and the shrieking breakers, as 
 they rushed madly to the iron-bound shore, sounded low 
 and soft as a mother s lullaby over her first-born infant s 
 sweet repose. And who could blame them for the mental 
 abandon of that delirious hour? Such moments come but 
 once, and not always once, in our pilgrimage below. Aaron 
 Burr and Margaret Moncrieffe caught the nectar as it rose, 
 and if death should follow the potent draught, it was a 
 death that came on balmy wings, and pointed his destroy 
 ing dart with rapturous joys. Side by side they sat upon 
 the rough bench that ran along the gallery their hands 
 
THE RIVALS. 97 
 
 clasped, their eyes bent down until the drooping lashes 
 rested on their cheeks, their lips mute and motionless, their 
 hearts full arid eloquent of unutterable joy. Who shall say 
 that days of sorrow, nights of mourning, or even long, 
 long years of anguish was too high a price for all they felt 
 in that unearthly trance ? 
 
 Twilight deepened into night before the spell was broken, 
 and they rose to return to the family circle. 
 
 "You will meet me here to-morrow ?" she said, in a tone 
 of gentle inquiry. 
 
 A warm clasp of the hand, and a murmured " Yes, sweet 
 one, yes !" was followed by another of those long, lingering 
 kisses that send the blood leaping in fiery currents through 
 the veins, and shed around the soul an incense so sweet 
 that we cannot believe that it was born to die. 
 
 Another day was added to the cycle of time. During 
 that day the mind of Aaron Burr had been like the wint^ 
 moon, over whose broad disk the clouds are chased in 
 broken columns by the hoarse and angry wind. Troubled 
 thoughts and fitful resolves, and now and then a clear, 
 bright ray of hope, were all confused and jumbled together. 
 As the chaos of his feelings subsided, the barriers to his 
 love, forgotten yesterday, became painfully apparent. He 
 had not thought of them heretofore, because he had in 
 dulged no purpose to avow his attachment; and vainly 
 trusted that the tongue could be ruled into silence when 
 the heart was bursting to be heard. A little more experi 
 ence of his own heart might have taught him that it would 
 be easier to dam up a torrent with sand, than to maintain 
 the cold silence he had imposed upon himself while linger 
 ing near the object of his passion. It is a pity that our 
 knowledge so often comes when it is too late to profit by 
 it. If we could only begin life with the same amount of 
 experience that is beat into us before its close, what a 
 
 9 
 
98 THE RIVALS. 
 
 world of mistakes and troubles would be avoided ! If we 
 could only know ourselves a little earlier, and a little bet 
 ter, earth might become a very attractive dwelling-place. 
 But we walk on, believing ourselves stronger and wiser 
 than we are, until some unexpected pitfall opens before us, 
 and away goes the man and his hopes forever. Aaron 
 Burr had been like a blind man wandering in a wilderness 
 of sweets, who forgets, until he feels its sting, that a viper 
 may nestle among the roses. He did not remember that, 
 no matter how beautiful,, and gifted, and virtuous, Mar 
 garet Moncrieffe might be, it was impossible for his love to 
 end in happiness; and it was not until that love was 
 spoken, and its return avowed, that all the objections to 
 it that had been floating vaguely and dimly before him, 
 assumed the form of sturdy, substantial realities, and chilled 
 his sanguine nature into despair. One day had sufficed to 
 reveal to him the hard and naked truth ; and when the hour 
 for the meeting of the lovers arrived, Margaret Monerieffe 
 stood alone in the gallery. Her heart bounded when at 
 last she heard his well-known step, and a glad smile illu 
 mined her countenance. Upon his visage no such joyful 
 expression rested. He approached her slowly, and, taking 
 her hand, pressed it to lips bloodless from agony, then 
 dropped it and said, 
 
 " We have been like unthinking children, Margaret, and 
 must pay the penalty for our folly. A lovely flower was 
 growing on the outmost verge of a precipice, and in our 
 eagerness to gather it we have fallen into the abyss below." 
 
 "What is the matter?" she exclaimed wildly. "Oh, 
 what terrible thing has happened ?" 
 
 "Terrible indeed!" he mournfully replied. "Yet it was 
 lovely and sweet in its coming. You and I have been 
 guilty of the deep sin of loving one another. You and 
 I, between whom there is a gulf as wide as hell, have 
 
THE RIVALS. VV 
 
 permitted our heart-strings to intertwine, and when they 
 tire torn asunder, as they must be, peace and happiness 
 will bleed themselves to death." 
 
 "But why should they be torn asunder ? Why may they 
 not remain intertwined forever?" 
 
 "Look there!" he said, pointing to Staten Island. 
 "With your naked eye you may discern the tents of 
 England s soldiery ; with the telescope you may mark the 
 very spot where floats the regimental banner of your 
 father. Think you that haughty officer will give his 
 daughter to one who is fighting with a halter about his 
 neck ? Who, if he wins, may be termed patriot ; but if 
 he loses, will certainly be bra nded as a traitor, and con 
 ducted to a traitor s doom ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! He is too just not to make allowances for 
 this unhappy quarrel ; and when he comes to know you 
 well, he will cheerfully sacrifice any remaining prejudices 
 to his daughter s happiness." 
 
 "Never, Margaret never! Besides, that is the least 
 obstacle in our way. To-morrow, or the next day, or any 
 day, may witness an assault on this city. When that time 
 comes, I shall be in the front rank of its defenders. If I 
 meet your father then, my sword will be directed at his 
 heart, as certainly as at that of the vilest mercenary 
 under his command. Could I approach you and ask this 
 hand while my own was still red with the blood of your 
 parent ? No, Margaret : we must part. It was madness 
 nay, worse, it was dishonor to go on as I have done, shut 
 ting my eyes to consequences an idiot might have foreseen. 
 To have crushed my own peace was bad enough ; to have 
 aimed a deadly blow at yours, is a sin no repentance can 
 atone." 
 
 The young girl listened in speechless woe. The rose fled 
 from her cheek, and a dull film gathered over the soft blue 
 
100 THE RIVALS. 
 
 eye that had just been eloquent with the happiness of re 
 quited love. But hope has its natural home in the bosom 
 of woman, and soon a cheering light flashed upon the ray- 
 less gloom of her despair. 
 
 " There are trials before us, my own love," she replied, in 
 a voice sweeter than the lyre of Orpheus. "Trials and 
 troubles and bitter hours ; but they are not so dreadful as 
 you think. This war must have an end; and when you 
 have passed through it, successful as I trust, and honored 
 as I know you will be, the vows of yesterday may meet 
 their fulfillment, and we shall bless the delay that prepared 
 for us a more entrancing gladness." 
 
 Her lover folded her passionately to his breast, and 
 imprinted a warm kiss on her polished brow. 
 
 "Bless you, sweet one, for those words of hope; and 
 bless you for the soft heart that spared the reproaches 
 I know I deserve 1 I will even do as you bid -me, and hope 
 to find trees of frankincense and beds of spices beyond the 
 gloomy present, to welcome the traveler who faints not by 
 the way." 
 
 Gradually the conversation changed to other themes. 
 The day-king traveled on his fiery path, and sunk to rest 
 behind the dark forest that stretched away toward the un 
 known regions of the West. The shadows of night fell 
 upon the earth, and the beauteous stars came forth as if 
 robed for a heavenly bridal. Still that lingering, loving 
 interview was prolonged. The cloud that had come be 
 tween them and the sun was for the time forgotten. In 
 the light of each other s eyes the darkness disappeared, and 
 fancy led them to a fairy -land, where the green pastures were 
 sleeping in a dreamy atmosphere, and the murmuring streams 
 leaped gayly from the hills. Each word was music, and 
 each sigh was eloquence to them. The honey-dew upon 
 the lip of love imparted a wilder ecstasy from each recur- 
 
THE RIVALS. 
 
 ring draught, and the broad earth supported on its bosom 
 no creatures so happy as that tempest-threatened pair. 
 
 All things human must have an end, and our sweetest 
 enjoyments are always shortest lived. Aaron Burr and 
 Margaret Moncrieffe were recalled from the paradise in 
 which they were roving, to the world of reality, by a sum 
 mons to join the family circle below. 
 
 "For your sake," he said, as they descended, "for your 
 sake, Margaret, General Putnam must know all." 
 
 "Be that my care," she replied. "The good old man 
 has exhibited for me the kindness of a father, and is enti 
 tled to a daughter s confidence in return. I love him as if 
 I were one in reality." 
 
 "And well does he deserve it; for a nobler, truer soul 
 never animated a human frame ; and that lion -heart which 
 would lead him on a hundred bayonets at his country s 
 call, is soft as that of the fluttering dove when weakness 
 or distress appeals to its assistance or its sympathy." 
 
 On entering the common sitting-room they found the wife 
 and daughters of General Putnam engaged in spinning flax 
 for the use of the soldiery. Turn not away, gentle reader, 
 from the homely spectacle ! It was a sight upon which 
 the angels might have looked with approving smiles. The 
 wife and daughters of a major-general laboring with their 
 own hands to clothe the half-naked recruits who had an 
 swered to the call of liberty. Xo wonder that soldiery 
 triumphed ! No wonder that when hunger and cold, disas 
 ter and defeat, were heaped upon them, their spirits rose 
 above the depressing weight, and with the blessed example 
 o-f female patriotism before them, they sprung to their 
 duties with a new and vigorous alacrity that eventually led 
 to a glorious victory ! 
 
 General Putnam was seated at a table, having an open 
 map before him, on which he had marked in pencil the 
 
 9* 
 
THE RIVALS. 
 
 position of the British troops. Various lines traced from 
 this point indicated that he had been studying their proba- 
 .ble movements, and endeavoring to anticipate the precise 
 place where the principal attack would be made. At his 
 invitation, Burr seated himself at the table, and was soon 
 as much absorbed as the general, in military speculations. 
 
 Margaret Moncrieffe had directed her steps to the part 
 of the room occupied by Mrs. Putnam and her daughters, 
 saying as she did so, 
 
 "I hope it is no treason to King George to assist in 
 your labors." 
 
 "Thee may be sure," replied the Quakeress, "that it is 
 no treason to the King of kings." 
 
 Several days went by, and Miss Moncrieffe had as yet 
 made no communication to General Putnam. The task 
 that seemed easy in the distance, grew more difficult when 
 she came to perform it. Sometimes he was busy ; some 
 times he looked perplexed by troubled thoughts, and she 
 did not like to disturb him. When a favorable opportunity 
 did present itself, her heart failed her, and she shrunk with 
 the instinctive bashfulness of a young girl from revealing 
 the secret of her first love, even to so kind and noble a 
 friend as she knew him to be. At last she determined to 
 adopt the less embarrassing plan of addressing him by let 
 ter. After many trials she succeeded in framing one to 
 her own satisfaction, which she placed, herself, in his 
 hands. It ran as follows : 
 
 " DEAR AND HONORED SIR : 
 
 " When I was a stranger, and you knew me only as the 
 daughter of your country s enemy, you took compassion 
 on my distress, invited me to your home when I had no 
 other, and received me as tenderly as if I had been a 
 favorite child. From you, therefore, I ought to have no 
 
THE RIVALS. 103 
 
 secrets ; and to you I feel that the circumstances in which 
 I am now placed should be frankly avowed. Under your 
 roof I met Major Burr. I will not tire you with details 
 that are without interest to any one except ourselves. It 
 is enough that we loved, and that it has been confessed 
 on both sides, notwithstanding the barriers that we are 
 well aware exist between us. Those barriers will readily 
 suggest themselves to your mind, and the object of this 
 note is to appeal to you for your advice, and your as- 
 "sistance in removing the difficulties that environ us. Do 
 not fear to pain me by any suggestions you may think fit 
 to make. "Whatever they are I know they will be just and 
 sincere, and I know, too, that they will be dictated by a 
 heart whose manly qualities are almost hallowed by the 
 delicate sensibilities with which they are intertwined. 
 
 "You will pardon me, I hope, if I cause you trouble or 
 annoyance, when you remember that it is your own good 
 ness that emboldens me to address you in the absence of 
 the parent who, under other circumstances, should alone 
 guide and direct my steps. 
 
 "Accept my warmest thanks for all that you have done 
 to render the abode of the prisoner delightful, and believe 
 that I shall ever remain your attached and grateful friend, 
 
 "MARGARET MONCRIEPFE." 
 
 Major Burr, who was ignorant of the mode of commu 
 nication adopted by Miss Moncrieffe, and, indeed, ignorant 
 that any communication had been made, was busy with the 
 regimental reports of the day, when General Putnam hur 
 riedly entered his apartment. 
 
 "What madness is this, major?" he exclaimed, extending 
 the letter he had just received as he spoke. "W r here, in 
 the name of all the saints, have your wits been wandering ?" 
 
 "It was madness, indeed !" replied Burr, sorrowfully, hi3 
 
104 THE RIVALS. 
 
 eyes merely glancing over the letter; "but a madness which 
 brings its own punishment. In an evil hour I forgot that 
 the galley slave is more free than I am, and dared to dream 
 of happiness amid the rattle of musketry and the clank of 
 chains. Even when the hour of waking came, a sweet 
 voice called back the illusion, and I was the slave of hope 
 once more. It is over now, and I shall prove none the 
 worse soldier since I have learned to look to a bloody bed 
 as a happy riddance of a troubled life." 
 
 "Nay, major, it is bad enough, but not so bad as that. 
 It would be unfeeling, and in my judgment, dishonorable, 
 to think of marriage with Miss Moncrieffe, while her father 
 and yourself hold commissions in opposing hosts. Nor do 
 I think it likely that his consent will be given at any time 
 to your union. In his eyes you are a traitor ; in his eyes 
 you will remain a traitor, although success may to others 
 convert the rebel into a hero. That is the worst side of 
 the picture. On the other hand, time and patience may do 
 a great deal toward bringing about the fulfillment of your 
 wishes. At all events, your life belongs to your country, 
 and must be cherished for her sake. The folly of which 
 you have been guilty will be converted into crime by a 
 reckless exposure of your life on the battle-field." 
 
 " I did not mean exactly that, sir. I only meant that I 
 might be less careful to preserve it. I rejoice that you 
 acquit me of anything worse than folly, and I assure you 
 that in all this I have been hurried on without knowing 
 what I did, and can scarcely be said to have been a free 
 agent." 
 
 "Why bless you, man, I know that as well as you do! 
 I know, also, that at your age I should have done the same 
 thing. If you will ask the old lady who sits at the head 
 of my table, she will tell you that there was a time when a 
 petticoat could have lured Israel Putnam to the devil." 
 
THE RIVALS. 105 
 
 The idea of putting such a question to the demure Qua 
 keress, over whose placid countenance no ripple of passion 
 ever seemed to have rolled, called a faint smile to the lips 
 of the aid-de-camp, and he replied, 
 
 "I am afraid I should lose ground in her estimation by 
 asking a question that implied her good lord had ever been 
 different from what he now is the most clear-headed and 
 practical, as well as the most upright of men." 
 
 "Pshaw! she knows better! She knows that I would 
 have jumped from a precipice at her bidding, or performed 
 any other equally absurd exploit. For that matter, she 
 knows I would do it yet ; and the chances are, that when I 
 tell her what a fool you have been, she replies, Thou wert 
 foolish thyself, Israel, in thy younger days, and must deal 
 tenderly with the maiden and the youth. But to return to 
 your own affairs. I hope you see the necessity of an im 
 mediate separation between Miss Moncrieffe and yourself. 
 I shall apply to General Washington to-day for an order 
 to change her residence; and I shall worry Congress until 
 they grant me permission to restore her to her father." 
 
 "And so," answered Burr, "I am to reproach myself for 
 making her captivity more irksome, by causing her removal 
 from a family where she has met a daughter s and a sister s 
 welcome. Truly, her acquaintance with me has been un 
 fortunate." 
 
 "Do not disturb yourself on that account. When she 
 leaves my roof I will see to it that she is conveyed to an 
 other as hospitable and as kind. Now you may go. I 
 give you leave of absence for twenty-four hours, and do 
 not wish to see your face within that time." 
 
 "Am I permitted to see Miss Moncrieffe ?" 
 
 " No. You have met often enough, and must not meet 
 again until Congress grants me permission to send her on 
 board a British man-of-war. I will say all that is needful, 
 
106 THE RIVALS. 
 
 and it will agitate her less, coming from me, than from 
 you." 
 
 Major Burr understood the motives of the general, and 
 acquiesced uncomplainingly in his decision. When he re 
 turned to his duties the next day, he learned, without sur 
 prise, that General Washington had issued an order for 
 the removal of Miss Moncrieffe to the family of General 
 Mifflin, at Kingsbridge. What reasons General Putnam 
 had for desiring the change, he kept to himself, and Gen 
 eral Washington did not seek to pry into them. The rank 
 of Miss Moncrieffe s father, however, and the course that 
 Congress had pursued toward her, gave her movements 
 an importance in the eyes of the public to which they were 
 not entitled, and speculation was rife as to the cause of her 
 sudden removal from New York. Finally, the majority 
 settled down in the opinion that she had been detected in 
 communicating information to the enemy an opinion that 
 General Putnam neither affirmed nor contradicted. To 
 the fertile brain of Alexander Hamilton it suggested an 
 other means of wounding his rival, and on the very night 
 that James Billings had brought him the news of Ade 
 laide Clifton s death, the infamous confederates concocted 
 another story of seduction, which soon obtained general 
 circulation, and the character of Aaron Burr as a libertine 
 became fixed for life. 
 
 It was no easy matter to obtain permission from Con 
 gress to restore Miss Moncrieffe to her father. 
 
 General Putnam, true to his promise, omitted no oppor 
 tunity of pressing the subject upon their attention, and 
 finally succeeded. When the order was received he handed 
 it to Major Burr, and said, 
 
 " You can go now to Kingsbridge, and carry this news. 
 I place no injunction upon you not to renew the vows you 
 have already uttered. In affairs of the heart it is often the 
 
THE RIVALS. 107 
 
 best course to leave the heart to its own guidance. Still, 
 it will be well for you to remember that the probability is, 
 you will never meet again that there is nothing more than 
 a bare possibility of your future union. Excite no other 
 hopes in her bosom, and cherish none in yours. Encourage 
 no correspondence, without her father s free consent. 
 Utter not one word to lessen her sense of duty to him. 
 Behave, in short, with that high honor which spurns con 
 cealment as an approach to meanness, and would rather 
 endure the tortures of the rack than the shame of deceiv 
 ing or misleading a loving and a trusting woman." 
 
 Major Burr warmly grasped the hard hand of the veteran 
 soldier the big tears came into his eyes, and his throbbing 
 heart almost choked his reply. 
 
 " God bless you, my more than friend ! Rightly and nobly 
 have you pointed out my pathway firmly and undauntedly 
 will I follow it, if my heart breaks in the effort." 
 
 "I do not doubt you," said the general, deeply affected. 
 " I do not doubt you, and if I did, I would not trust you 
 as I do. Go in," he continued, "to Mrs. Putnam and the 
 girls. They will have many messages to send." 
 
 Major Burr s arrangements were soon made. The jour 
 ney to Kingsbridge was a short one, and the distance was 
 materially lessened by the speed at whiqh he rode. Those 
 who have ever loved, will understand that other thoughts 
 than the gloomy ones of an early separation obtruded 
 themselves on his mind during the ride. He was about to 
 meet once more the object of his idolatry; to clasp her 
 warm hand in his ; to look down into the depths of her 
 blue eyes, and wonder from what world of loveliness their 
 beauties were borrowed. In imagination he was even now 
 inhaling the incense of her breath, and draining the nectar 
 of her lips. At such times the demons of doubt and un 
 certainty lose their power, and the dark clouds that, one 
 
108 THE RIVALS. 
 
 after another, they spread along the sky, are brushed away 
 by angels wings, or changed to rainbow beauty by the God 
 of Love. 
 
 They met, not as those meet within whose bosoms hope 
 has laid itself down to die ; but with the bounding glad 
 ness of those who clasp in their embraces all that is dear, 
 or cherished, or remembered of existence. For one brief 
 hour they breathed the air of Eden, and in its wild 
 delights forgot that but an hour interposed between them 
 and a separation that might be eternal. To them there 
 was no past ; no future ; nothing but an all-absorbing NOW. 
 They thought not of the world around them, and envied 
 not the heaven above, amid the thrilling joys of the heaven 
 below. Sweet privilege of youth ! why is it that you abide 
 with us no longer ? Why is it that the same sun that 
 lights your coming must also shine upon your grave ? Why 
 is it that the last notes of the rejoicing song that hails- 
 your birth are always mingled with the prelude to the 
 funeral wail that mourns your decay ? Alas ! before the 
 first green blade decked the bosom of earth, an immutable 
 decree went forth that whenever the Angel of Love folded 
 his wings on the footstool of God, he should be followed 
 by the Angel of Grief, and the raptures of one be succeeded 
 by the anguish of the other. The boon and the curse 
 travel always so nearly together, that the lightning is 
 visible before the sunshine disappears. To Aaron Burr 
 and Margaret Moncrieflfe it was the rosy daytime now, and 
 eagerly they gave themselves up to its sweet enjoyments, 
 even while the muttering thunder proclaimed that the 
 stormy night was approaching. ***** 
 
 The hour of final separation had arrived. 
 
 " Will you not go with me to the boat ?" she asked, "and 
 give me every possible moment of your society ?" 
 
 "No, Margaret. It would be torture to you and to me 
 
THE RIVALS. 109 
 
 to have the prying gaze of indifferent spectators fixed upon 
 us at such a time. Let us part where the throbbings of 
 the heart are unrepressed, and eye and tongue have full 
 permission to proclaim that we would not exchange our 
 love, hopeless as it seems, for all the countless spheres that 
 hang above this orb of ours." 
 
 "Nor," she added, "nor for a myriad ages of such poor 
 endearments as those with which the Eastern prophet peo 
 pled his paradise. Let it be ours to prove that there is a 
 love as deathless as eternity ; and if we meet no more until 
 the soul has put off the stained garment in which it is 
 clothed, there, there beyond the sky, in the heaven to 
 which one is called, or the hell to which it is doomed, let 
 us agree that the other shall follow and nestle by its side." 
 
 " So let it be, Margaret," he exclaimed, pressing her to 
 his heart. "So let it be. Our compact is sealed." 
 
 One burning kiss one long, long embrace, and then he 
 sprang to his horse and galloped furiously away. 
 
 They never met again. The lines of her life ran in tears 
 and in guilt. A father s command consigned her to the 
 arms of an unfeeling husband, and Nature vindicated its 
 outraged laws by making her the instrument of that hus 
 band s dishonor. Still in the depths of the infamy to which 
 she sunk, she clung to the memory of her early love, and 
 when her own hand recorded the events of her unhappy 
 life, every word that spoke of him was filled with passionate 
 fire. The mistress of a royal lover, the splendor that 
 gilded her lot could not bring forgetfulness to her heart ; 
 and when she came to die, the name of Aaron Burr was on 
 her lips. At that dread hour her fearful compact was re 
 membered, and her last breath was expended in uttering 
 the words, 
 
 "IN HEAVEN OR IN HELL WE WILL MEET AGAIN." 
 10 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "And is there blood upon my shield? 
 Maiden ! it well may be ! 
 
 We have sent the streams from our battle-field, 
 All darkened to the sea! 
 We have given the founts a stain, 
 Midst their woods of ancient pine 
 And the ground is wet but not with rain, 
 Deep-dyed but not with wine." 
 
 ON the twenty-third of August, General Putnam, on 
 account of the illness of General Greene, was assigned to 
 the command of the works on Long Island. Four days 
 afterwards, intelligence was received that the British army 
 was in motion. Aaron Burr, who, in that brief space of 
 time, had made an accurate survey of the ground who had 
 visited every post and outpost who had carefully inspected 
 the troops, and made himself acquainted with the state of 
 their mind at the near approach of an engagement, gave 
 it as his opinion that a battle would end in defeat. Pro 
 bably there was not a general officer in the army, from 
 Washington down, who did not hold the same opinion. 
 But General Wa^lm^tpj^_c^_Jthis^^gn_many other occa- 
 c "sons" 1 waQjSeredJbv_iha_p.ubIic ^sentimejitjrf the countryr 
 
 The_^r^atjn_ass of the people understood no results except 
 the_Qb.Yioii. ones of battles and of victories. They did ii(5t 
 understand that every hour gained by the American general 
 was a step toward freedom ; that the resources of the 
 enemy were daily diminishing ; that our own troops were 
 daily acquiring greater efficiency; and the minds of the 
 people daily approaching unanimity. The sturdy resistance 
 to the British arms at Bunker Hill had spread abroad an 
 extravagant notion of the prowess of raw militia, and men 
 (110) 
 
THE RIVALS. Ill 
 
 unreasonably looked for reports of victories where it was 
 no small honor to escape absolute destruction. In these 
 sentiments the majority of Congress unfortunately shared; 
 and General Washington wn,st,hns often Compelled tr> ri&k en 
 gagements that his own clear judgment told him could have 
 no_other_r.e.,sjilFlEan a useless waste of life. The attempt 
 to defend Long Island against a veteran army one-third 
 more numerous than his own, and deriving a powerful sup 
 port from the near neighborhood of their fleet, would 
 never have been made, if Congress and the country could 
 have been induced to leave the commander-in-chief to the 
 exercise of his own judgment in the conduct of the war. 
 
 The British attacking columns, on the morning of the 
 twenty-seventh of August, were fifteen thousand strong. 
 To oppose this formidable army General Putnam had an 
 available force of not more than five thousand untried men. 
 Courage and devotion may, and often do, accomplish 
 miracles, but when it is opposed by equal courage, superior 
 arms, superior discipline, and superior numbers, it is mad 
 ness to expect anything but disaster. In this light Major 
 Burr regarded it, and so expressed himself to General Put 
 nam, who, it is well known, perfectly agreed with his aid-de 
 camp. General Putnam, however, was too good a soldier 
 to question the decision of his superiors. He was ordered 
 to defend Long Island, and he would have made the at 
 tempt if only a single company had mustered beneath his 
 banner. Immediately on hearing that General Howe was 
 moving along the coast, he ordered Lord Stirling to meet 
 him; and sent General Sullivan to the heights above 
 Flat Bush, on the middle road. Lord Stirling promptly 
 engaged the left wing of the enemy under General Grant, 
 who, however, manifested no disposition to press the at 
 tack. This seeming hesitation, or supineness, soon had a 
 fearful solution. General Clinton, with Cornwallis and 
 
112 THE RIVALS. 
 
 Percy, had been ordered to make a circuit, and gain the 
 rear of Sullivan. When the sound of their guns an 
 nounced that this had been accomplished, Grant shook off 
 his apathy, and put forth his whole strength against Lord 
 Stirling. Borne back inch by inch, the gallant Stirling, at 
 the head of the Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Delaware regi 
 ments, struggled gloriously against overwhelming numbers, 
 until Lord Cornwallis fell upon his rear and poured a mur 
 derous volley into his already shattered ranks. Even then 
 he gathered the fragments of his corps together, and skill 
 fully availing himself of the advantages presented by a 
 marshy creek, retired slowly and in good order behind the 
 American intrenchments. While this was going on, 
 General Sullivan was assailed on the heights above Flat 
 Bush, by Clinton on one side, and De Heister on the other. 
 For three hours the dreadful conflict raged.. For three 
 hours the boom of cannon and the roar of musketry 
 gave evidence of the impetuous nature of the attack, and 
 the bloody obstinacy of the defense. Hemmed in on all 
 sides, his men cut down by scores at every discharge, the 
 dauntless Sullivan still continued the unequal combat, 
 renewed the disordered ranks of his troops, and infused 
 new fire into their flagging spirits. General Washington 
 had crossed over in the mean time, but he dared not weaken 
 himself by sending a man to Sullivan s assistance, and 
 could only watch, in powerless anguish, the butchery of 
 that gallant detachment. Red currents ran in rivulets 
 from the crimson hill, and mounds of mangled bodies were 
 piled upon its sides. Honor and patriotism could demand 
 no more. All that human courage could do had been 
 tried; and all that human endurance could bear had been 
 undergone. Slowly and reluctantly a white flag went up 
 from the Continental ranks. Sullenly they laid down their 
 arms and surrendered themselves prisoners of war. 
 
THE RIVALS. 113 
 
 Throughout that disastrous day, Major Burr was every 
 where present. Utterly devoid of fear if any man ever lived 
 of whom so much may be said a practiced horseman, 
 young, active, zealous, he carried the orders of the general 
 from point to point, dashing through the thickest hail of 
 bullets, and seeming, like Charles XII. , to exult in their 
 hissing music. The next day and the next, brought no 
 relaxation from his exertions. On the twenty - ninth, 
 General Washington resolved on retreating to the city. 
 Major Burr was engaged during the whole night in facil 
 itating the embarkation of the troops, and his untiring 
 assiduity was such as to attract the particular attention of 
 General McDougall, who did not fail afterwards to mani 
 fest his high appreciation of the soldierly qualities then 
 for the first time brought to his notice. 
 
 This memorable retreat has been reckoned one of Gen 
 eral Washington s highest claims to the title of a great 
 commander. In the presence of a victorious enemy, over 
 whelmingly superior in numbers and in guns, whose parties 
 were advanced to within six hundred yards of his lines, he 
 transported his whole army, numbering altogether about 
 nine thousand men, all his military stores, and nearly all 
 his provisions and artillery to New York in a single night, 
 in such perfect order and silence, that the enemy obtained 
 no notice of his movements until the last boat was cross 
 ing. The high praise to which General Washington is 
 undoubtedly entitled for this successful military maneuver, 
 must be shared by his subordinates, since it was one of 
 those movements in which the highest skill of the com 
 mander may be put at naught by the cowardice or the 
 stupidity of an inferior. The slightest misunderstanding 
 of an order, the least delay, or even the accidental dis 
 charge of a single musket, would have caused an alarm 
 that must have been attended by the most deplorable 
 
 10* 
 
114 THE RIVALS. 
 
 consequences. The conspicuous coolness, the quick in 
 telligence, and the unwearied exertions of Aaron Burr, 
 contributed more than that of any other officer of his 
 grade to the happy result, and won for him a crown of 
 laurels that will never fade until the early history of the 
 Republic is unread, and its early struggles forgotten. 
 
 After the retreat from Long Island, the wildest terror 
 pervaded the City of New York. The horrors of a bom 
 bardment were daily and nightly before their eyes. Nor, 
 it must be confessed, were these terrors confined to the 
 citizens. They extended to the army, and spread through 
 every rank. Desertions became so frequent that General 
 Washington, in one of his letters to Congress, described 
 them as going off "almost by whole regiments, by half 
 ones, and by companies at a time." The insubordination 
 and want of discipline of those that remained were also 
 the subject of frequent and bitter complaint. Despairing 
 of defending the city with such troops, he began his pre 
 parations for an evacuation that he foresaw would soon be 
 forced upon him. The stores and baggage least wanted 
 were removed beyond Kingsbridge. Nine thousand men 
 were stationed at Mount Washington and Kingsbridge. 
 Five thousand, under the command of General Putnam, 
 occupied the city; and the residue were posted in the 
 intermediate space, in good supporting distance of either 
 division. 
 
 The British, although completely successful in the affair 
 of the twenty-seventh of August, had suffered severely, 
 and manifested no impatience to bring on another engage 
 ment. It was not until the fifteenth of September, that 
 General Clinton landed at Kip s Bay. The scene that fol 
 lowed was the most disgraceful that occurred during the 
 whole period of the Revolution. Our men were shaking 
 with dread before a gun was fired, and fled in irremediable 
 
THE RIVALS. 115 
 
 confusion at the first appearance of the foe. In the rear 
 of the flying troops, Major Burr found Captain Hamilton, 
 vainly endeavoring to restore something like order, and as 
 vainly appealing to them, in the names of patriotism and 
 manliness, to turn and redeem themselves from everlasting 
 disgrace. Addressing himself to Burr, he said, in a tone 
 of despair, 
 
 "The day is lost, major, and our honor is lost with it!" 
 
 "Not yet," was the reply. "Something may still be 
 done." 
 
 Gallantly and manfully these two struggled side by side. 
 Freely and boldly they exposed their persons to the hottest 
 of the British fire, and desperately charged almost alone 
 upon the British bayonets. Their threats, their entreaties, 
 their animating example were thrown away upon the 
 panic-stricken men. The shameless race was continued, 
 until the fugitives were sheltered behind the works at 
 Harlaem. 
 
 Happy would it have been for Aaron Burr and Alexan 
 der Hamilton, if none but the glorious rivalry of that day 
 had ever darkened their lives ! On that field, in the midst 
 of the dangers and distractions of a routed army, both 
 gathered a rich harvest of renown ; which, to the one was 
 destined to be barren of its legitimate fruits, and was 
 stained by despicable meanness in the other. 
 
 After the retreat, or rather flight, had become irretriev 
 able, Hamilton devoted his attention exclusively to his own 
 company of artillery, and, by the exhibition of remarkable 
 skill and courage, succeeded in leading them from the field 
 with the loss of but a single gun. In riding toward Har 
 lem, Burr discovered a brigade, who, under the impression 
 that their retreat was cut off, had thrown themselves into a 
 mud fort, and determined to defend it to the last. On 
 learning the determination, of General Knox, who com- 
 
116 THE RIVALS. 
 
 manded the brigade, Major Burr protested vehemently 
 against it; assured him that he knew all the by-paths 
 through the country, and that he could and would guide 
 them safely to the main army. His offer was accepted, 
 and the young aid-de-carap, himself riding in advance, led 
 them to Harluem, unmolested, except by one small detach 
 ment, that was quickly dispersed. 
 
 If Major Burr had lived in the days of the Roman 
 republic, this achievement would have won for him the 
 highest honor to which a Roman soldier could aspire 
 *he Corona Civica, awarded to him who saved the life of a 
 dtizen an honor so highly esteemed that afterwards, when 
 the republic was converted into a despotism, and the senate 
 ha d exhausted its ingenuity in inventing honors for Augus 
 tus, they crowned the whole by decreeing that the Corona 
 Civica should be forever suspended from the top of his 
 house. The degree of credit to be ascribed to Burr s con 
 duct on this occasion may be correctly estimated when it is 
 remembered that of a brigade of twenty-seven hundred 
 men who surrendered at Fort Washington a short time 
 afterwards, only five hundred, or less than one-fifth, sur 
 vived the ill treatment they received in the prison ships of 
 England. Partly on account of the unfortunate differences 
 between him and the commander-in-chief, and partly on 
 account of the malign influences that followed him wherever 
 he went, he never reaped from this brilliant achievement 
 any substantial advantages. 
 
 That night General Howe camped in front of the Amer 
 icans, his right resting on the East River, his left on the 
 Hudson. The next day our troops had recovered from 
 their panic, and, in a sharp action of four or five hours 
 duration, obtained a decided advantage over the British. 
 The spirited conduct of the men in this affair, so different 
 from that of the day before, surprised General Howe, and 
 
THE RIVALS. 11*7 
 
 deterred him from making a general assault on Washing 
 ton s position. It did more ; it inspired him with so much 
 caution, that for three weeks he lay almost wholly inactive 
 in sight of his enemy. 
 
 James Billings had followed the retreating army from 
 New York, and on the third day after the occupation of 
 Harlaem, he was seated on one of the guns of Hamilton s 
 battery, apparently watching through a telescope the 
 movements of the enemy. It was not long before he was 
 joined by that officer, who inquired, 
 
 " Why did you not come to my tent, Billings, .. instead of 
 asking an interview here ?" 
 
 "Canvas walls," was the cool reply, "are liable to two 
 very serious objections: they obstruct sight, and do not 
 obstruct sound. It might be inconvenient to have our con 
 versation overheard and repeated by a lounging soldier at 
 the back of your tent. I prefer the open air, where you 
 are certain that no one can come near enough to listen 
 without your knowledge." 
 
 "A tent is indeed a poor place for the discussion of pri 
 vate matters, and I should not have suggested it if I had 
 supposed you had anything of importance to communicate 
 so soon." 
 
 "Nor have I much to tell, if you allude to our plans in 
 reference to Major Burr. Most men have been too busy 
 since our last interview to waste time in listening to stories 
 of private scandal ; yet I have not been altogether idle. I 
 have already whispered a pretty little story of the seduc 
 tion of Miss Moncrieffe, in a quarter where it will be sure 
 to reach the general. By the way, captain, do you know 
 I have a shrewd suspicion that we are much nearer the 
 truth this time than we were before ?" 
 "Why so? What have you seen ?" 
 "Nothing myself; but servants will talk, you know, and 
 
118 THE RIVALS. 
 
 both General Putnam s and General Mifflin s speak of 
 longer interviews and more tender partings than were to 
 have been expected between the daughter of a British 
 major and a rebel in arms against his king." 
 
 "I do not believe it. Mrs. Putnam would have turned 
 them both out of the house at the first appearance of 
 impropriety, much less of criminal intercourse." 
 
 "Well, I do believe it; but as it will equally favor our 
 schemes whether he is really guilty or we only make him ap 
 pear so, it is not worth while to discuss the truth of the case. 
 Besides, I do not want to have my belief in his present 
 guilt dispelled. After having been actively instrumental in 
 circulating one false story of the kind, it is a comfort to 
 think that I have discovered a true one at last." 
 
 The color faded from the cheek of Hamilton, and his 
 voice trembled, as he replied, 
 
 " Let me beg of you, Mr. Billings, not to refer again to 
 Adelaide Clifton. That tragedy has been played out, and 
 I would rather hear no allusion to it, particularly in your 
 cold and devilish tones. As to Major Burr, I am half 
 inclined to abandon my plans against him. When he came 
 to my side the other day, and generously assisted me in 
 arresting the flight of my panic-stricken men when I heard 
 his earnest appeals to them not to abandon their guns, and 
 saw him desperately expose his life to save me from that 
 deep disgrace, the memory of the wrongs I had done him 
 smote me like a bolt of iron ; and the thought has ever 
 since haunted me that it would be the better, as it is the 
 more manly policy, to discard all underhand intrigues, and 
 trust to superior energy or superior fortune in the race 
 between us." 
 
 "There is a little question to be settled, Captain Hamil 
 ton, before taking that resolution, which I should be sorry 
 to think you had entirely overlooked." 
 
THE RIVALS. 119 
 
 Pray what is that?" 
 
 How far you have a right to engage men in schemes 
 for your benefit, and then abandon them to the mercy of 
 enemies they have made on your account." 
 
 "If I remember rightly, you had the frankness to inform 
 me that your services were rendered chiefly with a view to 
 your own advancement." 
 
 " Certainly ! I am not so fond of tortuous paths as to 
 tread them without the hope of reward. Still, you must 
 not forget that it was yourself who devised a plan for the 
 destruction of a dangerous rival. In the execution of that 
 plan you sought my assistance. When your views were 
 unfolded to me, I concurred in your opinion, and labored 
 faithfully according to your directions. I had no other 
 interest in it than that of binding you to me by such ties 
 that hereafter you could not decently refuse any reasonable 
 request I might make. You showed me a means of accom 
 plishing the object I had at heart, and I adopted it. If 
 you had shown me any other, it would have been the same. 
 Of my motives I make no concealment. I was willing to 
 work for you now, and take the chances of your paying 
 me hereafter. A part of my work, the most disagreeable 
 and the most dangerous part too, is done. Your bond to 
 ne is uncanceled, and you have no right to lessen my 
 iecurity for its future payment." 
 
 " Suppose I admit the force of your reasoning, how will 
 you prove that I jeopard your interests by refraining from 
 further acts of hostility to Major Burr ?" 
 
 " It needs no proof. The proposition is self-evident. 
 You may remember the fable of the serpent which stung a 
 child and killed it. The father endeavored to destroy the 
 reptile, but only succeeded in striking off a part of its 
 tail. Afterwards a reconciliation took place, and the two 
 engaged in friendly conversation. The man pressed the 
 
120 THE RIVALS. 
 
 serpent to come out from his hole ; an invitation his snake- 
 ship politely declined. Why not come out V asked the 
 man. Are we not friends? Oh, yes! but your dead 
 child and my shortened tail are not; and we should quarrel 
 on their account. You are in the condition of the ser 
 pent. There is that between you and Aaron Burr that 
 makes a truce impossible, and if you leave your hiding- 
 place before you have an opportunity to sting him, you are 
 lost." 
 
 Something, not exactly a sneer, nor yet a smile a com 
 pound expression of anger and mortification, curled the 
 lip of Hamilton, and imparted a tone of bitterness to his 
 reply, 
 
 "1 presume you do not expect me to thank you for 
 the compliment deducible from your story, and its applica 
 tion. That Major Burr is a true man I know ; that he 
 is a man of genius all report agrees; yet I did not know 
 that you held him in such high esteem, or regarded me as 
 so deficient in like qualities, as to render an open contest 
 between us one of certain defeat to me. You will pardon 
 me, I trust, if my vanity prevents me from looking at the 
 picture in the same light that you do. I am loth to be 
 lieve that I may not couch a larice at his breast on terms 
 of equality." 
 
 "Six months ago you might have done so; but within 
 that time events have transpired that put you at perilous 
 disadvantage. What would become of your open rivalry, 
 if he should discover and proclaim your agency in bringing 
 about the quarrel between himself and the Commander-in- 
 chief? I will not refer to other matters, as they are disa 
 greeable to you. That alone would be sufficient to blast 
 you in the estimation of your comrades and your supe 
 riors. What security can you have that he does not make 
 the discovery ? Or suppose he does not, you will be for- 
 
THE RIVALS. 121 
 
 ever haunted by the fear of detection. Your resolutions 
 will be vacillating, and your efforts will be timid. Can 
 you doubt what use a bold and sagacious adversary would 
 make of such advantages ? Be assured that if you mean 
 to run out the race of ambition in which you have entered, 
 you must crush Aaron Burr without his knowing the hand 
 that deals the blow. For you there is no return ; and 
 hesitation is destruction. The ambitious aspirant can hope 
 for no forgiveness when his errors are exposed ; for the 
 only evidence of amendment that will be received is an 
 abandonment of the designs he has cherished. You have, 
 indeed, the alternative of retiring to private life, or of 
 contenting yourself in a subordinate position. When you 
 are no longer in the way, men may overlook your former 
 indiscretions, and extend to you the charity of forgetful- 
 ness. If you have made up your mind to this course, it is 
 but fair that you should take upon yourself the blame for 
 what has passed, and leave me unimpeded by any other 
 enmities than those with which you found me. If, on the 
 other hand, you are resolved not to abandon your hopes 
 of power and greatness, there is no alternative except a 
 steady persistence in the plans we have adopted. Major 
 Burr must be kept too busy in repelling new accusations to 
 allow him leisure for minute inquiries into the sources of 
 old ones. In my judgment, this will be easy; for I repeat, 
 that I believe he is guilty this time, and in his efforts to 
 hide the real crime, he will be very apt to overlook the 
 false accusation." 
 
 "And I repeat," answered Hamilton, "that I do not, 
 and cannot believe him guilty ; though to you, who are a 
 doubter of the existence of virtue, my reasons may appear 
 ridiculous. He is too highly esteemed by General Putnam, 
 and too warmly loved by his wife, to have committed an act 
 of such flagrant immorality beneath their roof. I cannot 
 
 11 
 
122 THE RIVALS. 
 
 be mistaken. He is as certainly innocent as I am. There 
 may have been some love passages between them, for she 
 is a girl well calculated to inspire the utmost madness of 
 passion ; but if so, they were of an honorable nature, and 
 both General Putnam and his wife have been apprised of 
 whatever has taken place." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Billings, in a tone of more surprise 
 than he was wont to exhibit: " ah ! I had not thought of 
 that. It is possible," he continued, after a pause, "that you 
 have hit the right nail on the head ! Upon reflection, I 
 am inclined to think you have. That foolish girl, to whom 
 I paid fifty dollars for watching Miss Moiicrieffe and re 
 porting her acts, has been giving me her inferences, and 
 calling them facts ; and I, like an idiot, swallowed her 
 story without investigation, because I wanted to believe it. 
 Another such a blunder will woefully lessen my self-confi 
 dence, though, in this case thank the stars, or the devil, or 
 whatever goblin or sprite had a finger in the business 
 the mistake is of no great consequence. He will be quite 
 as anxious to protect the fame of his intended wife as he 
 would have been to hide the errors of his victim. Either 
 will give him food foT anxious thought ; and the best of it 
 is, that he will be so hampered by pride and delicacy in the 
 one case, or by the consciousness of guilt in the other, 
 that he will take no notice of the report unless it is forced 
 upon him so publicly as to be unavoidable. You have the 
 trumps in your own hand, Captain Hamilton, and if you 
 do not win the game, the fault will be yours." 
 
 "There is one view of the case which does not seem to 
 have occurred to you, Mr. Billings, that strikes me as wor 
 thy of consideration. Is it not possible that, to win the 
 daughter s hand, he may seek to recommend himself to the 
 father s favor, by turning traitor to his country ? Such 
 things have happened in times not very remote from ours." 
 
THE RIVALS. 123 
 
 "No, captain ; I thought of that, and dismissed the idea 
 as altogether improbable. It is possible, to be sure, that 
 a man in love may make an infernal fool of himself in 
 every conceivable way, and Major Burr would save us a 
 great deal of trouble by proving himself no exception to 
 the rule ; but he will not do it. It is my habit to study 
 attentively the character and dispositions of those who 
 occupy to me the relations of friend or foe. Major Burr, 
 though properly neither the one nor the other, is in my way, 
 and has not escaped my scrutiny. His heart is in the 
 American cause. He does not adhere to it, as you and I 
 do, because he believes it will triumph in the end. He is 
 bound to it by birth, by kindred, by education, and by 
 association. He comes of the old Puritan stock who first 
 settled the wilderness ; and the bones of his ancestors, for 
 generations back, are moldering beneath this soil. It is 
 my fixed opinion that if he were suspended over the pit of 
 hell, and you were to offer him the alternative of betraying 
 his country or dropping into the burning lake, he would 
 choose the latter. I know you are thinking that, admit 
 ting this to be so, it does not negative your suggestion, 
 since it would be easier to take this sudden and desperate 
 resolve than to resist the daily and hourly pleading of the 
 passions, when a beautiful woman is the lure. Applied to 
 a nature like yours, the reasoning is undoubtedly correct. 
 Major Burr is of a different stamp. In him patriotism is 
 stronger than love ; and if the gifted beauty from whom 
 Socrates took lessons, and of whom Pericles was first the 
 pupil and then the slave, could again revisit the earth, the 
 eloquence which captivated the philosopher, and the charms 
 which enraptured the warrior-statesman would be wasted 
 in the effort to win him to the side of England. I use 
 strong language, for I wish to impress upon you my earnest 
 conviction of the truth of what I utter. We must make 
 
124 THE RIVALS. 
 
 our calculations upon winning the game without any assist 
 ance from him." 
 
 . "You are assuming more than half the argument," 
 responded Captain Hamilton. "You are taking it for 
 granted that I intend to play out that game; whereas I 
 have informed you that I am strongly inclined to throw 
 up my hand and begin afresh." 
 
 "I did not think you serious, particularly as I have 
 heard from you no denial of my right to be consulted 
 about a matter which so materially affects my interests." 
 
 "I do deny it, and insist that I alone am the rightful 
 judge of the course it becomes me to take." 
 
 "You are in error, Captain Hamilton, and your position 
 will not bear argument, if I were disposed to urge it. It 
 would do me no good, however, and afford me no pleasure 
 to convince you against your will. I prefer that your 
 decision should be made according to your own sense of 
 what is due to me and to yourself, only insisting that as I 
 have no fancy for the game of blind man s buff, you will 
 not leave me to grope in the dark, but inform me distinctly 
 what your determination is." 
 
 The perfect coolness of the practiced villain, the total 
 absence of every expression of regret, anger, or astonish 
 ment, and his studied avoidance of every word that implied 
 a threat, had a meaning for Alexander Hamilton that was 
 perfectly terrible. Until recently, he had looked upon 
 James Billings merely as an unscrupulous knave, who 
 might be used when necessary, and bullied or bought into 
 silence when his services were no longer needed. After 
 he was too deeply committed to recede, he discovered that 
 he was, to a great extent, in the power of a man of vast 
 mental resources, of greath wealth, (how great no one 
 knew ;) without a touch of fear, or pity, or remorse ; full of 
 ambitious schemes, as yet but dimly disclosed ; prepared 
 
THE RIVALS. 125 
 
 to commit any human crime that promoted his views, and 
 reckless of any human suffering that might follow his acts. 
 Knowing this man as he did ; knowing that with him 
 there was no middle ground that he must be either an 
 ally or an enemy; knowing, further, that in less than one 
 hour from the date of a rupture between them, he would 
 be plotting his destruction, as earnestly as he was now 
 scheming for his advancement, and remembering how 
 much that was black and damning he could reveal, Cap 
 tain Hamilton, bold as he was, felt his heart sink within 
 him, and his good resolutions took to themselves wings 
 and flew away. 
 
 Oh, it is a bitter, bitter draught, when the haughty son 
 of genius finds that by one misstep, one plunge into crime, 
 a thing to which he had ascribed no more than a reptile s 
 consequence has obtained the mastery over his actions, 
 and whenever his better nature turns in horror from the 
 crimes to which he is urged, there stands the relentless 
 demon beckoning forward with one hand, while the other 
 points to an abyss of infamy behind ! Whenever, too, his 
 guardian angel whispers "Return repent," its low tone 
 is drowned by a louder voice, which says "One step more, 
 and you are safe : one more deed of shame is all that is 
 needed. There, beyond that one deed, lie power, and 
 wealth, and honor. Courage, and they are yours 1 To 
 turn back is weakness worse than weakness; it is self- 
 destruction ! You cannot recall the past, and you have 
 done so much, that the little more required will scarcely 
 add a feather s weight to your guilt!" And so he goes 
 on from crime to crime, under the delusive belief that each 
 one is the last ; that each one is all that intervenes between 
 him and the prize he is losing his soul to win. Hamilton 
 reasoned as thousands had done before him, and fell, as 
 they did, into a moral hell, which is robbed of none of its 
 
 11* 
 
126 THE RIVALS. 
 
 tortures by the gilding of worldly success. His reply was 
 an index to the thoughts that oppressed him. 
 
 "I have no alternative, I suppose, but to yield to your 
 wishes, or to blow out your brains." 
 
 "And the last alternative is one that I trust Captain 
 Hamilton instantly dismissed, since these same brains may 
 be serviceably employed in the promotion .of his interests." 
 
 "I did dismiss it. Why or wherefore is immaterial. 
 My resolution is taken to go on as we agreed at our last 
 interview in the city. As I understand that you have 
 nothing particular to communicate in reference to that 
 matter, it is best to drop the subject." 
 
 "I had no idea when I broached it, that it would lead 
 to so much conversation between us ; still, I do not like to 
 leave anything unfinished ; and I confess to some curiosity 
 to know what pleasant vision you were indulging a short 
 time since, in connection with my sudden decease." 
 
 "Mr. Billings, you spared me the mortification of list 
 ening to a threat from you, and I would willingly have 
 exercised a like forbearance. If anything should sound 
 unpleasant in what I am going to say, remember that 
 your inquiry extracted it. The vision I was indulging is 
 one that will remain near me hereafter. The day that I 
 resolve to break off our connection, will be the last of your 
 life. You have the power to injure me deeply, and when 
 ever I suspect that you are about to use it, (and I shall 
 suspect it the moment we quarrel,) I will slay you as cer 
 tain as there is a God in heaven I" 
 
 The words were hissed through his closed teeth, and the 
 bloodless lips scarcely moved when the sound escaped 
 them. The superhuman self-control of Billings failed him 
 for once, and his eye quailed before the glance of fire that 
 was fixed upon him. It required a strong effort to recover 
 from his confusion, and reply in his usual voice. 
 
THE RIVALS. 127 
 
 "That is a bond between us I had not thought of. By 
 the Lord, there are few friendships so well cemented as 
 ours ! A quarrel is death to both. Well, I do not lament 
 the little wrangling that has brought us to so clear an 
 understanding, and I predict that our work will be better 
 and more harmoniously done, since it is manifest that a 
 failure on either side will be followed by consequences so 
 serious. We will, if you please, consider this long episode 
 at an end. I sought you to say that I am going to-night 
 to the City of New York, and from there I must take a 
 journey southward. It will probably be two months or 
 more before you see me again. In the mean time it will 
 be best to let the little seed I have planted grow untended. 
 Indeed, if General Howe is a soldier of as much capacity 
 as he is represented, he will leave you no leisure to attend 
 to private matters. At the head of his force, he ought to 
 drive General Washington from the State of New York 
 in two days. The Americans can make no efficient stand 
 until he is drawn inland, beyond the reach of aid from his 
 shipping, and is weakened by the garrisons he must leave 
 behind. I may have occasion to write to you, and if so, 
 take it for granted that there is not one word of truth in 
 the visible contents. When you are alone, hold it over a 
 hot fire, and whatever then appears upon the third page 
 you may rely on." 
 
 " Going to the city, did you say ? That is impossible ; 
 the enemy s lines extend from river to river." 
 
 "Nevertheless I must make the attempt; and I have 
 accomplished more difficult feats before now. Take this 
 glass," he continued, "and examine that skirt of timber to 
 the left. I thought I detected the glitter of scarlet uni 
 forms among the autumn leaves." 
 
 Hamilton took the glass, and, after a brief survey of the 
 ground, closed it again, saying, 
 
128 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "It is nothing but a post of videttes." 
 
 "I know it," replied Billings; "but look again. There 
 is a lot of officers coming this way, and there is no occasion 
 for letting them know that our conversation has had refer 
 ence to anything else than the perfection, or imperfection 
 of General Howe s dispositions. Give me the glass." 
 
 Taking the instrument, he adjusted it to his eye, and ran 
 it along the whole length of the British line. 
 
 "General Howe," he said, just as the officers to whom 
 he had alluded approached the spot, "General Howe seems 
 to like your company so well, that he is preparing to make 
 a permanent encampment in your neighborhood. You have 
 reason to thank your stars that England did not send out a 
 more energetic commander." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked one of the younger offi 
 cers. "Do you think General Howe ought to make an 
 attack on these fortified heights ?" 
 
 " I am not a military man. and my opinion is not entitled 
 to much consideration. General Howe, doubtless, knows 
 his own business better than I do ; but if I was at the head 
 of yonder army of red-coats, I think these fortified heights 
 would be mine before the rising of to-morrow s sun, and 
 George Washington a captive or a fugitive. In my judg 
 ment, General Howe is over-cautious." 
 
 "You speak like a fool!" replied the officer, hotly. 
 "An army of fifteen thousand freemen, behind these works, 
 is more than a match for treble that number of hireling 
 mercenaries." 
 
 "I deserve the rebuke," answered Billings, with a bland 
 smile, "for venturing an opinion on a subject of which, I 
 confess, I am ignorant. I shall not hereafter question the 
 ability of the American army to perform miracles. Indeed, 
 J was myself a witness to an achievement of theirs which 
 has few recorded parallels. To my certain knowledge, on 
 
THE RIVALS. 129 
 
 the fifteenth of this present month, they made the distance 
 from New York to Harleem at an average speed of about 
 twelve miles to the hour, and in such remarkable order, 
 that not a single colonel was able to find his regiment, and 
 very few captains possessed a more accurate knowledge of 
 the whereabouts of their companies. Gentlemen, I bid you 
 good day !" 
 
 At the conclusion of this bitter speech, James Billings 
 made a polite bow, and walked deliberately away. 
 
 "Who is he, Hamilton?" asked two or three of the 
 astonished officers at once. 
 
 "Some years ago," he replied, "I knew him as a trader 
 between New York and the West Indies. Afterwards, I 
 understood that he had accumulated a fortune and retired 
 from business. What are his present pursuits I do not 
 know. I do know, however, that he is a zealous and effi 
 cient friend of the patriot cause." 
 
 "I should have taken him for a soldier," answered 
 General Lee, who was among the group. "His voice has 
 the ring of tried metal, and I will stake more than I could 
 well afford to lose, that it has been heard above the sound 
 of clashing steel before this war began." 
 
 " I knew him only as a merchant," said Hamilton, " and 
 never heard him allude to any other service in which he 
 had been engaged. Your conjecture may be correct, 
 though I think it improbable. He was too familiar with 
 the details of the mercantile business not to have passed 
 many years in acquiring a knowledge of that hazardous 
 calling." 
 
 Captain Hamilton had, in reality, no certain knowledge 
 of the former occupations of James Billings. He knew 
 enough to be assured that they had not been of the most 
 reputable kind, and this made him desirous of appearing 
 more ignorant than he was. Not knowing to what the 
 
130 THE RIVALS. 
 
 present conversation might lead, lie hastened to change it 
 by abruptly inquiring, "What do you think of our posi 
 tion, general ? Can we hold it?" 
 
 This question led, as he expected and desired, to an ani 
 mated discussion, in the heat of which James Billings and 
 his biting retort were forgotten. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Whate er that thought, still unexpressed, 
 Dwells the sad secret in his breast; 
 The pride his haughty brow reveals, 
 All other passion well conceals." 
 
 THE retreat from New York was the beginning of a 
 series of disasters that almost annihilated the American 
 army, and spread among the people a feeling of dis 
 may so general that the most hopeful trembled for the 
 result. That was emphatically the time "that tried men s 
 souls." Every messenger that galloped through the coun 
 try carried tidings of woe. Congress fled in terror from 
 Philadelphia. The tears of the wife mingled with the 
 blood of the husband ; and the wail of the orphan rose 
 above the unburied corpse of the father. General Wash 
 ington, at the head of a miserable remnant of four thou 
 sand men, was driven through New Jersey, and beyond the 
 Delaware. Still, undismayed, he kept the field with his 
 little band, and sent General Putnam to Philadelphia, 
 (then the largest city in America,) to make such prepara 
 tions for defense as the time allowed. In the active dis 
 charge of the numerous duties that devolved upon him as 
 the aid-de-camp of General Putnam, the days and nights 
 of Major Burr were fully occupied. General Washington 
 had ordered a line of intrenchments and redoubts to be 
 thrown up from the Delaware to the Schuylkill. The pro 
 per performance of this service required a degree of scien 
 tific knowledge that General Putnam did not possess, and 
 he was compelled to trust a great deal to his aid-de-camp. 
 
 (131) 
 
132 THE RIVALS. 
 
 His confidence was not misplaced. Major Burr was every 
 where present, carrying orders, giving directions to the 
 workmen, and encouraging them in their labors. His 
 slender frame was proof against fatigue, and his buoyant 
 spirits neither permitted despondency in himself nor in 
 others. The difficulties to be overcome were greatly in 
 creased, from the fact that the command consisted almost 
 entirely of militia. General Washington could spare no 
 others. He had need of all the regular troops he could 
 muster for the brilliant winter campaign he was then con 
 templating, and which, beginning with the battle of Tren 
 ton, in three weeks resulted in relieving Philadelphia, in 
 the recapture of every post the enemy had taken along the 
 Delaware, and in the reconquest of almost the whole of 
 the Jerseys, A campaign so astonishing, that an Italian 
 historian declares it was "regarded with wonder by all 
 nations, as well as the Americans." 
 
 From the gloom of despondency the spirits of the army 
 and the people rose to the highest pitch of exulting hope. 
 Philadelphia was no longer in immediate danger ; and in 
 the new disposition of his forces, General Washington 
 transferred General Putnam to Princeton, in New Jersey. 
 At this place Aaron Burr was born, and here his childhood 
 was nursed ; at this place his father and his mother were 
 buried ; at this place his education had been acquired. A 
 few years before, he had gone out from its college walls 
 happy and contented, with no want to oppress him, no 
 sorrow to harass, no wrong to madden. Happy in the 
 possession of his books, happy in the friendship of his as 
 sociates, happier still in the kindness of his relatives, a life 
 of sunny brightness spread itself out before the student. 
 He came back to it a boy still in appearance, but in ac 
 complishments a soldier of proved ability; and in heart a 
 worn and sorrow-stricken man. He stood alone between 
 
THE RIVALS. 133 
 
 the graves of his honored parents, and let his mind run 
 back upon the family history. For three generations it 
 had furnished the most celebrated lawyers, clergymen, and 
 statesmen of the provinces. His father was eminent as 
 the President of Princeton College, and still more eminent 
 as a pulpit orator. His mother was the most accomplished 
 woman of her time, and the daughter of that Jonathan 
 Edwards who is still pointed to with pride, and whose 
 memory is still cherished with fond affection by every 
 genuine son of New England. On both sides, every drop 
 of blood that flowed in his veins came from a fountain of 
 unsullied purity ; and in the long retrospect there was not 
 one act to call a blush of shame to the cheek of their 
 descendant. From these proud and pleasing recollections, 
 he came down to his own less enviable lot. 
 
 "Not upon me," he said, "can the curse have fallen, 
 that the sins of the parent shall be visited upon the chil 
 dren, even unto the third generation ; for the three gener 
 ations have gone by, and each one has been marked by the 
 upheavings of a piety as fervent as that of Isaiah when the 
 Seraphim had touched his lips with a living coal. Why 
 did I not follow in their footsteps ? Why did I not take 
 up the weapons of the church, and do battle for the re 
 demption of souls, rather than engage in the less ennobling 
 strife whose fruits, however sweet, are mortal still; and 
 whose victories, however great, are unsung in that eternal 
 world in which at last the spirit finds its resting-place ? 
 What healing balsam can the world s brief triumphs pour 
 on the riven fibers of the heart ? From glory s fountain no 
 Lethean waters roll over buried hopes and blasted joys. 
 The higher we climb, the more we become like the Alpine 
 glacier, from which the sun s beams are thrown in frozen 
 radiance, and whose very brightness reveals more distinctly 
 the gaps and rents that warring storms have made. 
 
 12 
 
134 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "Not to earthl} 7 honors did the venerated dead beneath 
 me look for consolation and support. Not there did the 
 father, the grandfather, and the great-grandfather turn 
 when the trials that afflict the upright as well as the unde 
 serving came upon them. Their thoughts turned upward 
 in adversity, and to them crushed affections became a bless 
 ing, even as the bruised petals of the rose exhale a sweeter 
 odor than its opening bloom gave out. To these pleasant 
 fields I also was invited. Was it my fault that I accepted 
 not the invitation ? Surely it was in my nature to labor as 
 they labored, and to worship as they worshiped ! From 
 my earliest boyhood the Bible has been to me the book of 
 books. Its grand conceptions, its lofty poetry, and its 
 pure morality, apart from the memory of its inspiration, 
 clothed it in raiment of light ; and, one after another, my 
 soul drank in its beauties from the bearded majesty of 
 Moses to the vailed mystery of Malachi; from the fiery 
 eloquence of Paul to the tearful history of John. There 
 was nothing repugnant to my taste in the profession my 
 fathers followed. No habit of idleness to deter no love 
 of dissipation to draw me from the Christian s walks. Nor 
 were there wanting warm-hearted friends to remind me of 
 their useful lives, and urge me to follow their blameless 
 example. Yet I turned from it to wander through the 
 mazes of a labyrinth that leads I know not where, but 
 which I do know is infested by a poisonous malaria, in 
 whose presence peace and happiness have withered and 
 died. Was the choice mine ? or was it the fulfillment of 
 an eternal decree hung up in heaven centuries ago ? or 
 have I fallen upon the times when the Evil One, his thou 
 sand years of bondage over, is permitted to revisit the 
 earth and lure the creature from the service of his Cre 
 ator ? Oh ! much of this must remain unknown until the 
 soul stands up before the illuminated record that is its ac- 
 
THE RIVALS. 135 
 
 cuser, its advocate, its witness, and its judge. Until that 
 dread hour, let me be contented with the knowledge that the 
 road to redemption not unfrequently runs through tears. 
 
 "In the first flush of youth, life and fortune were freely 
 offered to my country. Another sacrifice was demanded ; 
 and even as Abraham journeyed to the mountains of Mo- 
 riah with the child of his old age, did I bear an offering a 
 thousand times more precious than his, and cast it down 
 upon her altars. But unlike him, there was no voice to 
 stay my hand no ram, entangled in the bushes, for a sub 
 stitute. The duty is fulfilled ; the suffering remains. Yet 
 to suffer well is to triumph ; and, come what may, no tear 
 sjiall jroll over my cheek no murmur escape my lips." 
 
 The self-promise then made was faithfully redeemed. In 
 prosperity and adversity ; at the height of power ; in pov 
 erty and exile, that mighty heart was true to itself. True 
 always. True and unfaltering to the last. 
 
 Tip to this time his enemies had accomplished a great 
 deal, though not all they expected. Morally they had 
 effectually degraded him in the eyes of the commander-in- 
 chief; but they had not blinded him to Major Burr s 
 military merits. They had strong hopes that when the 
 army came to be reorganized, and Washington (upon whom 
 Congress had conferred dictatorial powers) should come 
 to make his official appointments, Burr would be over 
 looked. It was impossible for meaner natures to under 
 stand fully the character of that illustrious man. They 
 made the mistake of supposing that his private prejudices 
 would influence his appointments, whereas patriotism and 
 military capacity were his requisites, and in these his judg 
 ment was rarely at fault. The very persecution to which 
 Burr had been subjected was in this aspect an advantage to 
 him. The eye of the general was drawn more particularly 
 to him, and he was less inclined to judge his conduct from 
 
136 THE RIVALS. 
 
 the reports of others. Major Burr himself, knowing the 
 prejudice against him at headquarters, anticipated no 
 appointment. He judged wrongly ; as others did. 
 
 In July, 17*77, General Washington inclosed him the 
 commission of lieutenant-colonel in the Continental army; 
 an honor never before or since conferred upon a man of his 
 age, unless General La Fayette can be regarded as an excep 
 tion. His new appointment removed him from the family 
 of General Putnam, whose unfaltering friendship and manly 
 sympathy had cheered the darkest hours of his life. The 
 parting on both sides was marked by feelings of warm and 
 earnest regard. 
 
 " Good-by, my boy," faltered out the general, wringing 
 Burr s slender hand in his own hard and horny grasp. 
 " Your colonel is one of the best of men, and purest of 
 patriots. He is no soldier, and only accepted the command 
 because his refusal would have been an injury to the patriot 
 cause. If you please him, as I know you will, he will soon 
 turn over the regiment to your exclusive control, and I ex 
 pect to hear such accounts of you as will make me feel 
 proud of the interest I have taken in your advancement." 
 
 "Thank you, general, for this and for all your kindness. 
 If you hear aught of Aaron Burr that does not give you 
 pleasure, it will be that he has fallen in the battle s front, 
 in the full and faithful discharge of his duty to his country." 
 
 Returning the warm pressure of the friendly hand, Colo 
 nel Burr mounted his horse and rode off to join his regi 
 ment. In those days a regiment consisted of an indefinite 
 number of men, according to the success that attended its 
 recruiting officers. Malcolm s regiment, to which Colonel 
 Burr was assigned, was encamped on the Ramapo, and 
 contained only about three hundred effective men. Nothing 
 was easier than for a finished man of the world, and a born 
 soldier like Burr, to obtain a complete ascendency over the 
 
THE RIVALS. 137 
 
 mind of a man conscious of his own deficiencies, and sin 
 cerely desirous, on Ms country s account, that the command 
 should be confided to more competent hands. In a few 
 weeks, he became so perfectly satisfied that everything 
 might be trusted to his lieutenant-colonel, that he withdrew 
 entirely from the regiment, and never once interfered with 
 its discipline or led it into battle while Colonel Burr con 
 tinued in the service. 
 
 The rule of Malcolm had been an easy one; and Colonel 
 Burr was surrounded by difficulties at the outset that called 
 forth all his energies. The men were raw and inexperi 
 enced. The junior officers, taken mostly from the city, 
 were destitute of military knowledge, and effeminate in 
 their habits. Transferred at once from the indulgent sway 
 of Malcolm to the rigid discipline of a man who was 
 "every inch a soldier," and expected every one under his 
 command to become like himself, the change operated, as 
 such changes almost always do, most favorably upon the 
 men, and unfavorably upon the officers. The soldiers sub 
 mitted cheerfully to the long drills, the severe inspections* 
 and the strict enforcement of every military regulation, when 
 they saw that their officers were subjected to the same 
 treatment. They respected the commander who was not 
 above inspecting every pound of their rations and every 
 article of their clothing, in order to convince himself that 
 they were not imposed upon in either respect; and they 
 absolutely loved him when they saw him making daily visits 
 to the hospital, to examine the condition of the sick and 
 afford them every comfort it was possible to obtain. This 
 great step gained, he turned his attention to the officers, 
 whose murmurs he had hitherto pretended not to hear. 
 They were now subjected to a rigid examination, and at its 
 conclusion he very quietly ordered a portion of them home, 
 intimating that they had chosen the wrong profession, and 
 
 12* 
 
138 THE RIVALS. 
 
 had better remain there. This bold step was illegal, and 
 he knew it; but it was demanded by the necessities of the 
 times; and General Conway, under whose command he 
 then was, cordially approved it. Thenceforward his task 
 was easy. The remaining officers and the men went about 
 their duties with a determination to perform them well. 
 His ranks filled up, order reigned, and he had the satisfac 
 tion of writing to General Putnam that there was not a 
 better disciplined regiment in the service. 
 
 Just as he had brought his soldiery to this satisfactory 
 state of efficiency, a rumor reached him that a British force, 
 two thousand strong, had marched out of ]^ew York and 
 were within thirty miles of his position. Rejoiced at the 
 opportunity thus offered of rendering a signal service to 
 the cause, he put his men in motion to meet them. On the 
 march he was met by an express from General Putnam, 
 advising him to remove the public stores in his possession, 
 and retreat to the mountains. 
 
 As the dispatch was in the form of advice, and con 
 tained no positive order, Colonel Burr determined to disre 
 gard it. A hard march of sixteen miles brought him by 
 sundown to Paramus, where a body of militia had assem 
 bled, who, in their ignorance of military matters, were 
 wasting time and labor in building a breastwork of fence- 
 rails. Uniting his own troops with the militia, and putting 
 a stop to the useless work in which they were engaged, he 
 posted the whole command in an advantageous position, 
 gave strict injunctions to guard against surprise, and pro 
 ceeded himself, at the head of seventeen picked men, to 
 ascertain the numbers and position of the enemy. About 
 ten o clock at night he learned from a countryman that he 
 was within a mile of their picket guard. His men by this 
 time were so much wearied that he thought it best to give 
 them some repose, and, leading them into a thick wood, he 
 
THE RIVALS. 139 
 
 left them there and proceeded alone to reconnoiter. He 
 soon discovered that the information received from the 
 countryman was correct, and farther, that the picket of the 
 enemy, entirely unapprehensive of danger, were fast asleep, 
 and guarded by two sentries only. The British, uncon 
 scious of the near neighborhood a of a hostile force, had laid 
 down to sleep, leaving their camp fires burning. By crawl 
 ing close up to the sentries, and bringing their bodies 
 between him and the blazing fires, he was able to mark 
 exactly their position, and to obtain a very correct knowl 
 edge of the numbers of the sleeping guard. His observa 
 tions satisfied him that the picket might easily be captured 
 or destroyed. Quickly returning to his own men, who had 
 fallen asleep, overcome by fatigue, he roused them from 
 their slumbers, and, briefly explaining his object, ordered 
 them to follow in perfect silence. Notwithstanding all the 
 celerity he could exert, by the time they arrived at the 
 picket camp the fires had burned so low that the forms of 
 the sentries could not be distinguished. Still he was sure 
 he had marked the place too well to be mistaken. A whis 
 pered order was passed along the line, and, throwing him 
 self on the ground, after the Indian fashion, he crawled 
 toward his object. The rustling of a bush within five paces 
 of him, attracted the attention of one of the sentries; his 
 musket was brought suddenly down, and the stern challenge, 
 " who goes there ?" echoed through the woods. The an 
 swer was a leaden messenger from Burr s pistol, and the 
 unfortunate soldier sank to rest upon his post. Almost at 
 the same moment the order to "charge" rang loud and 
 clear from his lips. Before the drowsy Britons gained 
 their feet, the Americans were among them. In their 
 astonishment, there was no thought of resistance. Only 
 one man attempted to use his arms. He was bayoneted on 
 the spot, and the remainder twenty-seven privates, two 
 
140 THE RIVALS. 
 
 non-commissioned and one commissioned officer surren 
 dered themselves prisoners of war. 
 
 Dispatch is the soul of military operations. The great 
 Napoleon, after his Italian campaigns, declared that he 
 had beaten the overwhelming numbers that were sent 
 against him solely because their generals did not under 
 stand the value of minutes. Nothing was ever lost by 
 Aaron Burr for the want of activity. He did not even 
 wait to see that all his prisoners were secured, before send 
 ing off a messenger to bring up the forces he had left at 
 Paramus. He had not closed his eyes for more than 
 thirty -six hours, yet he allowed himself no repose. 
 Through the moiling, messengers were dispatched to dif 
 ferent neighborhoods to bring up all the militia that could 
 be gathered. These messengers spread the tidings of his 
 partial success. It was of course magnified into a splen 
 did victory, and before nightfall he had concentrated an 
 imposing force, with which he resolved to give battle to 
 the invading troops. The enemy, however, alarmed by 
 exaggerated reports, did not wait his approach, but aban 
 doned the plunder they had collected, and beat a hasty 
 retreat. Colonel Burr, intent upon bringing them to an 
 engagement, gave directions for an energetic pursuit. To 
 his great mortification, he was stopped by an express from 
 headquarters, ordering him to march at once to. the main 
 army in Pennsylvania, where General Washington was 
 sorely pressed by Sir William Howe. 
 
 The defeat of Brandywirie had been followed by the 
 bloody repulse of Germantown. Red Bank and Fort Mif- 
 flin had been taken. The British army was in possession 
 of Philadelphia, and the Delaware was open to the British 
 shipping, when Colonel Burr joined the main army of the 
 Americans, twelve miles above Philadelphia. To com 
 pensate for these losses, Burgoyne s fine army of ten thou 
 
THE RIVALS. 141 
 
 sand veteran troops had been destroyed or captured by 
 Gates, and thirty-five brass field-pieces were thereby added 
 to the American means of defense. On the whole, the 
 commander-in-chief had reason to be satisfied. He had 
 lost the finest city on the continent it is true, and had been 
 beaten in some bloody encounters. But that was all. His 
 strength was undiminished, and his resources were greater 
 than they were twelve months before. On the other hand, 
 the loss of Burgoyne s army was almost irreparable to 
 England. Sir William Howe, the victor, drew his men 
 into winter quarters, gloomy and discontented. Wash 
 ington, the defeated, calmly and hopefully erected a little 
 city of huts on the banks of the Schuylkill, and exerted 
 every nerve to straiten and harass his enemy. 
 
 In this poor apology for winter quarters, where the men, 
 almost destitute of shoes and blankets, shivered through a 
 dreadful winter, the intrigues against Colonel Burr were 
 renewed. Alexander Hamilton was now upon the staff of 
 General Washington, and had completely gained his con 
 fidence. In the preceding two months he had been sent 
 to the Northern army under Gates to hurry forward rein 
 forcements to the main body. In the discharge of this 
 duty, which he performed zealously and well, he took 
 occasion to further his own private ends. General Put 
 nam s warm friendship for Colonel Burr was known and 
 dreaded. In his correspondence with General Wash 
 ington, the arch-intriguer let slip no opportunity of dis 
 paraging the old soldier whom all America now delights 
 to honor. It was his remorseless policy to weaken every 
 hand that might be raised in Colonel Burr s defense, and, 
 iu pursuance of that policy, he did not hesitate to avail 
 himself of the confidential relations existing between him 
 self and the commander-in-chief, to bring the most serious 
 private accusations against one of the boldest and purest 
 
142 THE RIVALS. 
 
 of the revolutionary leaders. He charged him with having 
 neglected or deranged everything in the department under 
 his command ; and, knowing General Washington s sensi 
 tiveness on that point, he more than intimated that General 
 Putnam was concocting a plan for the surprise of New 
 York, without the sanction, and for the purpose of over 
 clouding the glory of the commander-in-chief. He neg 
 lected nothing, in short, which could create distrust of the 
 officer whose influence he dreaded more perhaps than that 
 of any other soldier in the army of the United States. 
 Nor was he entirely unsuccessful. He did not, indeed, 
 accomplish all he desired, but he did raise suspicions in 
 the mind of Washington which were never completely 
 removed, and the intercourse between the two generals 
 was thenceforth marked by less cordiality than ought to 
 have existed between men so distinguished for patriotic 
 devotion to liberty and the country. 
 
 Upon Hamilton s return from the North, he found James 
 Billings in the American camp. That bold, bad man, had 
 made liberal advances to purchase supplies for the army, 
 and his patriotism was so highly esteemed that he easily 
 procured permission to put up for himself a house of 
 superior accommodations within the lines of Valley Forge. 
 At this house Colonel Hamilton sought his confederate 
 on the night of the 25th of December, 1777. A blazing 
 wood fire sent forth its genial warmth from the ample 
 hearth-stone; bottles and glasses were placed upon a 
 table drawn conveniently between the two occupants of 
 the room. As yet the conversation seemed to have been 
 on indifferent topics, but Billings now sought to direct 
 it into more serious channels. 
 
 "You have not employed your time badly since I left. 
 To have risen to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, is a great 
 
THE 11IVALS. 143 
 
 deal j to have secured the confidence of Washington, a 
 great deal more !" 
 
 " I have indeed risen as rapidly as I had any reason to 
 expect ; and in one sense my position is more favorable ; 
 but these staff duties, while they bring me into constant 
 communication with the commander-iu-chief, and are so 
 far favorable, have yet their drawbacks. No opportunities 
 for individual distinction are presented to me. I must 
 move always in the shadow of another." 
 
 "True, if you hold it always! but what is there, when 
 your plans are sufficiently ripened, to prevent you from 
 seeking employment in the line ?" 
 
 " Much ! Much more than any one unacquainted with 
 the ever-watchful jealousies of our officers can compre 
 hend. General Washington, from undue respect for the 
 complaints of line officers, has adopted a rule not to give 
 appointments to staff officers that may interfere with their 
 claims to rank. I fear he is immovable, but something 
 may be done." 
 
 "Yes ! anything everything may be done by a man who 
 works pertinaciously and intelligently. At present your 
 best place is exactly where you are. When your plans 
 are ripe, sever the knot which binds you to Washington, 
 if you cannot untie it, and take your destiny in your own 
 keeping." 
 
 " Such is my purpose, though I foresee many difficulties 
 in the way of its accomplishment." 
 
 "There are difficulties between us and every earthly prize 
 which is worth the winning. If we stop to count them we 
 shall never attain our objects. Conquer them as they rise, 
 and do not tremble at their anticipated coming." 
 
 "I am not much given to trembling, either at shadows 
 or realities ; yet methinks it is good soldiership to antici 
 pate and prepare for all that may happen. There is 
 
144 THE RIVALS. 
 
 nothing lost by erecting bulwarks to keep out a danger 
 which we know must come some day, and may come 
 early." 
 
 "Granted, if it brings no despondency, no cessation 
 of effort. But what difficulties do you anticipate other 
 than the jealousies you have named ?" 
 
 "I may have to leave General Washington in such a way 
 as to forfeit his friendship." 
 
 "Trust to a stray bullet to carry him off before that time 
 comes, or, at least, before you become a sufferer from the 
 loss of his regard. If fortune should fail you in that 
 respect, trust to me. I have neither scruples nor remorse, 
 and this hand has seldom stricken a blow which needed 
 repetition. It may prove your best reliance at last." 
 
 Colonel Hamilton was startled by the tone and manner, 
 as much as by the words, of his fiend-like confederate. The 
 blood forsook his cheek, his hand trembled, and his hair 
 stood erect, at the bare thought of the dark and terrible 
 deed to which his companion so distinctly pointed. His 
 voice had a strange hoarseness as he asked, 
 
 "What do you what can you mean ?" 
 
 "You are nervous, my dear colonel; take a glass of 
 wine, and I will answer your inquiry." 
 
 His own glass was filled to the brim. Draining it slowly 
 like a man who enjoys what he is drinking, he replaced it 
 on the table and continued, 
 
 "I mean, that if General Washington was, to-day, the 
 only obstacle to the success of your plans, and his removal 
 would crown you king of this fair domain, it should be my 
 care to remove that obstacle. What I would do to-day it is 
 tolerably certain that I shall have the will to do to-morrow, 
 or any succeeding day. If he lives, the time will come, in 
 all probability, when it must be done, though I believe that 
 time is yet afar off. According to my calculation, John 
 
THE RIVALS. 145 
 
 Bull s obstinacy will prolong this war for ten years to 
 come. The last two years of hostilities will be the proper 
 period for the accomplishment of your ends, and mine. 
 Let him go on until an empire is just ready to fall into his 
 grasp, and then" he paused and drew his breath hard 
 before he concluded "my last service will be performed." 
 
 Astonished, shocked, almost terror stricken at the dread 
 ful villainy so remorselessly contemplated, and so daringly 
 avowed, Hamilton walked to the door and threw it open 
 to let the freezing night air blow upon his burning brow. 
 His throat was parched, his lips dry and hard ; and, return 
 ing again to his seat, he swallowed two glasses of generous 
 wine in quick succession. 
 
 "For God s sake, Billings," he gasped, "never allude to 
 this subject again !" 
 
 "I do not intend to do so," was the cool rejoinder. "It 
 is enough to talk of such a matter once." 
 
 "Too much I" almost groaned Hamilton in reply. 
 
 James Billings took no notice of the agitated manner 
 of his companion, but refilled his glass and drank it off 
 deliberately, occasionally holding it before the light to 
 admire its color. 
 
 "I find," at length he said, "that Colonel Burr is highly 
 esteemed as a military man, and that he is rapidly growing 
 into favor alike with officers and soldiers. Would it not 
 be well to turn your attention to that point, and cripple 
 him before he obtains too strong a hold on the affections 
 of the army?" 
 
 " My attention has been directed to it, and I have done 
 what I could to keep him back without seeming to desire 
 it. But somehow he has the faculty to make, or the good 
 fortune to find, opportunities for distinction where no one 
 else could. Even now, he is applying for permission to 
 
 13 
 
146 THE RIVALS. 
 
 lead an expedition against Staten Island, which will be 
 almost sure to add greatly to his reputation as a soldier." 
 
 "Thwart him. You can surely find means enough. The 
 men are destitute of shoes and blankets. The weather is 
 terrible; and two days exposure, you might plausibly 
 argue, would cut off more than a battle." 
 
 " I thought of that ; but he proposes to take only two 
 hundred of his own best appointed men, and rely upon 
 raising the people of the country in sufficient numbers for 
 his purpose. Besides, I really think the expedition will do 
 great good to the republican cause." 
 
 "It will do you no good; and the cause is progressing 
 toward a triumphant conclusion quite as fast as your interest 
 or mine demands. If I could have my will, Burgoyne s 
 army would now be comfortably quartered in New York." 
 
 "It would be a death-blow to the independence of 
 America." 
 
 " Not at all. It would only put it off a year or two 
 longer. If you cannot stop this purposed expedition alto 
 gether, why send it forward, but send it with an officer of 
 superior rank to monopolize the glory." 
 
 "Burr would not go. I would not consent to act as 
 second in an expedition I had planned myself, and I am 
 sure he will not." 
 
 "Let him stay then. His refusal to go may be turned 
 against him. At all events, it accomplishes your object." 
 
 "I will think of it," replied Hamilton, "and act accord 
 ing^ circumstances." 
 
 " I see no objection to that course, provided that at the 
 same time you make up your mind to act according to cir 
 cumstances, you make it up also to have a finger in shap 
 ing the circumstances. To inflict a telling blow on Colonel 
 Burr justifies some risk. He has all the qualities to make 
 a rival dangerous, as I have before had occasion to remind 
 
THE RIVALS. 147 
 
 you. With a strong and powerful intellect, a mind stored 
 with much and varied learning, accomplished beyond most 
 men of his day, utterly fearless, and deeply ambitious, he 
 is a man to be watched ami feared ; and whenever a single 
 feather can be drawn from his pinions, the opportunity 
 should not be allowed to pass unimproved. No other 
 young officer has any chance against you, and as for the 
 older ones, history, if it teaches anything, teaches us that 
 the first leaders of a successful revolution rarely ever reap 
 its highest rewards. Who would have dreamed at the 
 beginning of the English civil wars, that the rough and 
 ungainly Colonel of the Ironsides would be the foremost 
 man in the kingdom at its close ?" 
 
 No immediate reply was made, and the conversation, 
 when it was resumed, turned to other subjects. It was 
 near midnight when Colonel Hamilton rose to depart. 
 
 "By the way," he said, taking his overcoat in his hand, 
 "we have been so deeply interested that I forgot to ask 
 where you had been since our parting." 
 
 " To St. Croix. I wished to ascertain if that fellow 
 Williams, of whom you once spoke to me, was really any 
 one whom I had ever known, and I preferred making the 
 journey myself to trusting to another who might be intimi 
 dated, or make mistakes, or accept bribes from other hands 
 than mine." 
 
 " Did you find him ; and did you know him ?" 
 " I saw him, but too late to learn anything from him. 
 As ill luck would have it, the very day after my arrival, 
 he was found dead in a thicket of mangos ; and, up to 
 the time of my departure, which you may be assured was 
 not unnecessarily delayed, his murderer had not been dis 
 covered." 
 
 Colonel Hamilton drew on his coat rather hastily bade 
 his companion " good night," and in another moment was 
 
148 THE RIVALS. 
 
 tramping over the frozen snow in the direction of his own 
 quarters. 
 
 " That will do," muttered Billings, closing the door, and 
 returning to the fire. " He knows well enough who struck 
 that blow, and will feel that he has one hold less upon me. 
 He must be desperate, indeed, before he resorts to that 
 other alternative which he hissed in my ear on the heights 
 of Harlaem." 
 
 James Billings habitually slept but little, and that little 
 at whatever time proved most convenient. He rarely dis 
 missed any of the many problems which, at different pe 
 riods, thronged his busy brain, before he had worked out a 
 satisfactory solution. It was his habit, always before seek 
 ing repose, to think over any conversation of interest in 
 which he had been engaged, and to calculate how far he 
 had succeeded in making the impression he desired. At 
 such times his thoughts almost invariably took the form of 
 words, and he appeared to derive increased self-satisfaction 
 from the sound of his own voice. On the present occasion 
 he drew off his boots, incased his feet in a pair of morocco 
 slippers, lighted a fragrant Havana, and settled himself 
 comfortably down to think aloud. 
 
 " For a man of sense," so ran his thoughts, " for a man 
 of sense, and very few troublesome scruples, Hamilton was 
 startled more than could have been expected when I hinted 
 at the indispensable necessity of putting George Washing 
 ton out of the way when our plans were ripe, or nearly so. 
 I am glad I mentioned it so soon. He must grow familiar 
 with the idea before the time comes for putting it into exe 
 cution. He has gone off now believing it impossible that 
 his consent can ever be given to my suggestion ; but I have 
 read the book of human nature too attentively to be de 
 ceived in such a case. It is one of those ideas which, 
 when they once obtain an entrance into a man s head, will 
 
THE RIVALS. 149 
 
 come back, no matter how often they may be driven away, 
 and every time they present a less forbidding aspect. There 
 will be no necessity for me to refer to it again. It will 
 force itself upon his attention, and, in process of time, he 
 will come to regard it as a very dear and familiar friend, 
 whose society, instead of creating uneasiness, is of exceed 
 ing comfort in dark and cloudy weather. On that score I 
 have no fears, notwithstanding his seeming horror at the 
 proposition ; and the net I have been so industriously weav 
 ing, in that part at least is sound. My chief apprehension 
 is the want of time. Our hopes will be as effectually blasted 
 by an early termination of the war, as by England s recon- 
 quest of her provinces. Brother Jonathan comes of a stiff- 
 necked race, who have, before now, taken off the heads of 
 legitimate sovereigns, and he is of a temper to follow the 
 ancestral example, if any premature usurper should attempt 
 to fetter his limbs before he is completely wearied and dis 
 gusted by successive years of lawlessness and blood. In 
 that case only will he consent to exchange his dreams of 
 freedom for the government of a prince, albeit that prince 
 should be of his own selection. We are getting along too 
 fast now, and I must contrive to put some clog upon the 
 wheels. An occasional hint to Sir William Howe, such 
 as may enable him to gain partial successes, will do the 
 business and, by the Lord, he shall have it ! This Staten 
 Island expedition offers a good chance for a beginning. 
 If Colonel Burr commands it, a double purpose may be 
 gained by preparing the British to meet him. If he does 
 not, there is still the chance of affixing more or less odium 
 upon him as the original proposer of an adventure which 
 has ended in disaster and defeat. The game seems to me 
 easy enough. All that is needful is so to regulate my in 
 formation, that it will not serve the British commander any 
 further than just enough to keep up his hopes, by enabling 
 
 13* 
 
150 THE RIVALS. 
 
 him to gain immaterial triumphs. The thing, on its face, 
 is plain and simple ; but we never can foresee all the con 
 sequences of such maneuvers, reflect upon them as care 
 fully as we may. It is a ticklish business, and few could 
 be trusted with its management; but there is no great 
 probability of my losing anything from a want of skill or 
 nerve, in playing my hand to the best advantage. At all 
 events, I shall make the experiment. Hamilton need not 
 know anything about it. Indeed, he must not. He would 
 be interposing troublesome objections, and would withhold 
 information that he will communicate freely, so long as he 
 does not know to what use I intend to put it." 
 
 Having decided upon his course, James Billings dis 
 missed the subject from his mind, and sought his couch 
 with a brow whose unruffled smoothness betrayed no sign 
 of the dark schemes which had been working within 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Full in thine eye is waved the glittering blade, 
 Close to thy throat the pointed bayonet laid, 
 The level d muskets circle round thy breast, 
 In hands as steeled to do the deadly rest." 
 
 THE suggestion of Billings was not lost upon Hamilton ; 
 and in a few days Colonel Burr received notice that his 
 application for permission to make an attack upon Staten 
 Island had been rejected. Afterwards the mind of the 
 commander-in-chief appeared to undergo a change, and 
 Lord Stirling was sent to perform the service Burr had 
 suggested. Notice of Lord Stirling s designs was commu 
 nicated to the British commander, through whose agency 
 the reader will be at no loss to determine, and the enter 
 prise in consequence proved to be a failure. Colonel Burr, 
 thus cut off from one road to distinction, soon found 
 another. The cool courage and untiring energy which he 
 had exhibited on the night of Washington s retreat from 
 Long Island had not been overlooked or forgotten, and to 
 that he owed his appointment to a situation where such 
 qualities were indispensable in the commanding officer. 
 Ten miles from the main camp at Yalley Forge, there was 
 a pass called the Gulf. If the enemy should leave the city 
 at any time during the winter, to attack him, it was from 
 this point that Washington expected to receive the earliest 
 notice of his movements. Accordingly, he posted a strong 
 body of militia at the pass, instructing the officer in com 
 mand to keep patrols and spies continually on the alert, so 
 that he might be instantly apprised of any movement in 
 force Sir William Howe might attempt to make. The 
 
 (151) 
 
152 THE RIVALS. 
 
 optics of these militia men were unfortunately endowed with 
 magnifying properties whenever they were required to look 
 at a "red-coat," and the consequence was, that to their 
 vision every little foraging party assumed the proportions 
 of an army, and the commander-in-chief was continually 
 annoyed by false alarms, some of which caused him to draw 
 out his whole force, and expose them needlessly to the 
 bitter blasts of winter. After various attempts to correct 
 the evil, General McDougall advised him to send Colonel 
 Burr to the Gulf, and withdraw all the officers superior to 
 him in rank, so that the whole direction of matters should 
 devolve on him. This advice accorded so well with Wash 
 ington s own estimate of Burr s fitness for the place that it 
 was promptly adopted, and orders were at once issued to 
 carry it into effect. It is probable that Hamilton made no 
 objection to the arrangement, since it seemed to furnish 
 his rival with little chance for increased distinction. 
 
 Placed again in an independent command, untrammeled 
 by other than mere general orders, Colonel Burr devoted 
 himself to the duties that devolved upon him. His activity 
 knew no pause. His vigilance never slumbered. He was 
 always in the right place, exactly at the right time. 
 
 Knowing full well the importance of discipline at all 
 times, and particularly under such circumstances, his first 
 care was to establish a rigid system, which he enforced with 
 unflinching determination. Heretofore the excesses of the 
 militia had been winked at, under the impression that there 
 were no other means of keeping them in the service. The 
 consequence was, that they had become more formidable to 
 the people of the country than to the enemy. Colonel Burr 
 believed that they could be reduced to as strict subordina 
 tion as regular troops, and he determined that they should 
 be. No drill was omitted on account of the severity of the 
 weather, as had previously been the custom. No excuse 
 
THE RIVALS. 153 
 
 was accepted for the non-performance of any duty, and no 
 criminal was allowed to go unpunished. The men, long 
 accustomed to the license of freebooters, broke into open 
 murmurs, which grew louder daily, as one after another 
 suffered the penalties incurred by their predatory habits. 
 About this time, James Billings rode over to the Gulf, and 
 was observed during the day in close conversation with a 
 stalwart soldier who had been severely punished for some 
 misdemeanor the preceding day. When they parted, the 
 soldier s pocket was heavier by several pieces of gold, 
 though what had been agreed upon between them could 
 only be inferred from the events which followed. As soon 
 as night came, the soldier, urged on by the strong incen 
 tives of gain and revenge, cautiously passed from hut to 
 hut, stirring up the worst men at the post, reminding them 
 of the punishments they had received, and pointing out to 
 them that there was no hope of any relaxation of the stern 
 rules to which they were subjected, except in the death of 
 their present commander. In that army, as in every other, 
 there were abundance of men ready for any deed of violence, 
 upon even less provocation than that which they chose to 
 consider had been offered ; and, during that night and the 
 next day, the conspiracy came to a head. For the purpose 
 of dividing the responsibility, it was determined that when 
 the colonel made his appearance at the evening parade, a 
 dozen muskets should be discharged at him at once. As 
 the hour approached, one of the number grew nervous, and 
 disclosed the plot. To arrest and place the mutineers in 
 irons, was an obvious mode of avoiding the danger; but 
 Colonel Burr regarded this as a temporary expedient, 
 which, however it might succeed at the time, would have 
 little effect in preventing other mutinies in the future. He 
 wished to give them a more impressive lesson. With this 
 v iew, he caused all the suspected soldiers to be detailed for 
 
154 "THE RIVALS. 
 
 fatigue duty, and while they were thus engaged, secretly 
 drew the charges from their muskets. When the hour for 
 evening parade came, instead of approaching them in front, 
 he came up on the right flank and walked slowly down the 
 line, eying each man intently as he passed. About the 
 center of the line, the chief mutineer stepped from the 
 ranks, leveled his musket, and shouting, " Now, boys, is our 
 time !" pulled the trigger. The unloaded gun merely flashed 
 in the pan, and, quick as lightning, the saber of Colonel Burr 
 descended upon the right arm of the mutineer, cleaving 
 entirely through the bone, and severing the limb completely 
 from the body. The musket dropped to the ground, and 
 the baffled murderer mechanically obeyed the stern order, 
 "Back, sir, to your place in the line !" Not another word, 
 was spoken. Colonel Burr continued his walk to the 
 extreme left; and then, taking his place in front, went 
 through with the dress parade as if nothing had occurred. 
 From that hour the spirit of disaffection was at an end. 
 Complaints from the country people ceased entirely. That 
 lawless militia were converted into the most orderly soldiers 
 of the army, and not a single false alarm was borne to 
 Yalley Forge. 
 
 Some expressions dropped by Billings on the day of the 
 mutiny, induced Hamilton to suspect that he had been en 
 gaged in fomenting the discontent of the soldiery, and after 
 the failure of the attempt to assassinate Colonel Burr, he 
 sought his house for the purpose of ascertaining how far his 
 conjectures were right. He found that worthy surrounded 
 by the comforts we have described on a former occasion. 
 
 "I did not expect," he said, rising to greet his visitor, 
 "the honor of your company to-night; but it is always 
 agreeable. Take a glass of wine, and let me know whether 
 you have merely called on a friendly visit, or whether there 
 is anything you want done." 
 
THE RIVALS. 155 
 
 "There is something," replied Hamilton, "that I wish 
 undone; and I have strong misgivings that you had a 
 greater agency in it than was prudent for you or service 
 able to me." 
 
 Now James Billings did not have the least doubt on his 
 mind that Hamilton alluded to the unsuccessful attempt to 
 murder Aaron Burr ; but he wanted a moment for reflec 
 tion, and, to obtain that, he leisurely took a cigar from the 
 box on the table, deliberately bit off the twisted end, and 
 lighted it before he replied. 
 
 "I shall be sorry if anything disagreeable to you has 
 occurred ; and more so, if I have had a hand in it. Pray, 
 what is it? I have heard nothing important." 
 
 " You have heard, I suppose, of the mutiny at the Gulf, 
 and of Jackson s attempt to shoot Colonel Burr." 
 
 "Of course! I could not help hearing what has been 
 the common camp talk for a whole day. It has afforded 
 to our little city of huts so delightful a theme of gossip, 
 that I verily believe one-half of them forgot they were 
 shoeless, and the other half ceased to complain of the 
 thread-bare blankets which covered them." 
 
 "This matter is serious, Billings, and I pray you to drop 
 that sneering tone, and let me know what agency you had 
 in it." 
 
 "You are entitled to my confidence, Colonel Hamilton, 
 and you shall have it. My agency was very limited. It 
 began without any intervention on my part I found 
 Jackson in the mood to rid you of a troublesome rival, 
 and I barely intimated that so long as I could assist him 
 he should be no sufferer by his unsolicited kindness. The 
 murder of Colonel Burr was not mentioned by either of 
 us; though, to be entirely frank with you, I was sure he 
 had that pleasant idea in his head. We only spoke of his 
 tyranny, and of the comfort that would result to the sol- 
 
156 THE RIVALS. 
 
 diers at the Gulf if such a disturbance could be created as 
 would induce the general to recall him. In everything 
 else the blundering fool acted on his own responsibility, 
 and richly deserves the punishment he received, not so 
 much for the crime he meditated, as for the folly of snap 
 ping an unloaded musket at the bosom of a man who had 
 a drawn saber in his hand and no little skill in the use of 
 the weapon." 
 
 " I wish the blow had fallen on his head, instead of his 
 arm," replied Hamilton. "You have given him a fearful 
 power over you ; and who can tell what moment he may 
 use it ? Men become excellent subjects for remorse when 
 wounds and pain have reduced them to the weakness of 
 children." 
 
 " He has no power over me whatever. If every word 
 I uttered was written down, and submitted to a court-mar 
 tial, it would be impossible for them to find me guilty of 
 anything but an imprudent expression of sympathy in a 
 case which I, being a citizen unacquainted with military 
 regulations, could not be expected to understand fully." 
 
 As he uttered these words, a scornful smile curled the 
 lips of that daring man, and a momentary fierceness flashed 
 from his eyes, which belied his assumed ignorance of the 
 law of arms, and told plainly enough that in his own soul 
 he despised the plea he was urging. 
 
 Hamilton noticed it, but made no comment, and went 
 on as if it had been unobserved. 
 
 "You might be mistaken in that. There are officers in 
 this army who believe that you have seen more of a sol 
 dier s life, and know more that pertains to his duty, than 
 you seem disposed to acknowledge. I heard General Lee 
 offer to lay a heavy wager that such was the case." 
 
 "General Lee is a vain, imperious, headstrong fool, who 
 fancies that he knows more than George Washington and 
 
THE RIVALS. 157 
 
 all his general officers combined; and who, acting under 
 this belief, will be certain to get himself into serious trou 
 ble before long. My advice to you is to cut loose from his 
 friendship as early and as rudely as possible." 
 
 "Well, it is unnecessary to discuss General Lee s char 
 acter at present. From your statement, I am satisfied that 
 the danger Colonel Burr has escaped was of your contriv 
 ance, and I must tell you that your mode of proceeding 
 is rather too decided to meet my approbation. I insist that 
 hereafter you keep clear of treasonable plots; that you 
 leave Colonel Burr to take his chances from the bullets of 
 the enemy, and that you do not again run the risk of com 
 promising me by a like act of damnable villainy." 
 
 "Your language is strong, colonel; but, as my little 
 scheme proved a failure, I deserve to hear it so charac 
 terized, As for the future, rest easy. I do not expect to 
 be favored with such another opportunity ; and, if I am, 
 your strong repugnance will be sufficient to prevent me 
 from using it. There can be no harm in adding, however, 
 that in my judgment you are wrong, and I would rather 
 have lost a finger than to have made the promise you have 
 now drawn from me." 
 
 Hamilton mused- for some moments, and then said, 
 
 "I should like to know, Billings, what cause you have 
 to hate Colonel Burr so cordially?" 
 
 "Not a particle," was the easy and unembarrassed reply. 
 " Colonel Burr is in my way, and I pursue him precisely as 
 I would a wolf or any other dangerous animal. I never 
 heard of him until after the assault on Quebec. You 
 pointed him out to me as a formidable antagonist. Until 
 then, I had no interest in the man. After that, I studied 
 his character, traced out his history and that of his family ; 
 marked his conduct, and weighed his ability. I found 
 that you had not over-estimated him, and made up my 
 14 
 
158 THE RIVALS. 
 
 mind to destroy him at any cost On the occasion of his 
 rupture with the commander-in-chief, I hoped that he 
 would become disgusted, and abandon the army. If he 
 had done so, I would have dismissed him from my mind, 
 or at least ceased to remember him as an enemy. He pre 
 ferred to adopt another course, which left me no alterna 
 tive but to consider him still as an obstruction in my path 
 way, or in yours, which is the same. Again, I hoped that 
 in the distribution of field-commissions he would be over 
 looked; that also failed. Then I found the hand of a 
 desperate mutineer armed against his life, and added a 
 few arguments to strengthen his purpose. Here, too, I 
 encountered disappointment. And now, you, who are the 
 last man in the world who ought to interfere for his protec 
 tion, have tied me by a promise not to repeat the attempt. 
 If I was such an idiot as to believe in any destiny except that 
 which is shaped out by a firm will and unbending purpose, 
 I should be inclined to give up the struggle in despair." 
 
 " There is no necessity for giving up the struggle, and 
 no necessity for personal violence either. Events that can 
 not be safely hurried, must be waited on ; and there never 
 was a case to which this truism more forcibly applied." 
 
 "Such, I know, has been your policy from the begin 
 ning. Mine was sharp and sudden. It failed, as men s 
 schemes are apt to fail who trust to third persons for their 
 execution. It is but fair that yours should have a full 
 trial; and I repeat that I will not again interfere without 
 your knowledge and consent. But come, my throat is dry, 
 and I feel strangely depressed to-night. Let us try what 
 effect this good wine will have upon the spirits. We can 
 talk of business another time." 
 
 For an hour the wine circulated freely, and when Ham 
 ilton rose to depart, not a trace of anxiety was visible on 
 the countenance of either. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 "Hark! the trumpet s blast is ringing, 
 And banners wave along the coast; 
 Freedom to the field is bringing 
 
 The remnant of her shattered host." 
 
 THE terrible winter of 1777-78 at length wore away 
 The season for active operations had arrived, yet both par 
 ties seemed willing to repose a little longer on their arms. 
 The occupation of Philadelphia had proved to the British 
 almost as fatal as that of Capua to Hannibal. Sir Wil 
 liam Howe had captured the city at the expense of much 
 toil arid blood ; but in so doing, he had gained no substan 
 tial military advantage. It had indeed supplied him with 
 comfortable winter quarters for his men, but this advantage 
 was more than counterbalanced by the evils which accom 
 panied it. The dissipation which it is impossible to 
 prevent among the conquerors in a conquered city, had 
 enervated a large portion of his men, and others made 
 acquaintances and formed attachments which caused them 
 to desert by the hundred. Dr. Franklin never exhibited a 
 deeper knowledge of human nature than in his reply to the 
 French Minister at Paris, who informed him that General 
 Howe had taken Philadelphia. "Say, rather," replied the 
 doctor, "that Philadelphia has taken him." The predic 
 tion was verified. One winter in the city sufficed to de 
 moralize the best army that England had as yet landed 
 on our shores. 
 
 In the spring of 1778, General Howe, wisely deeming 
 that British laurels were of rare growth on American soil, 
 
 (159) 
 
160 THE RIVALS. 
 
 solicited permission from his government to surrender the 
 chief command in America, and return to England. His 
 request was complied with, and Sir Henry Clinton ap 
 pointed in his stead. The new commander soon became 
 aware of the evils resulting from the hard-won conquest of 
 his predecessor, and, as he could perceive no countervailing 
 advantage from its occupation as a military post, he determ 
 ined to abandon it. This was a maneuver that General 
 Washington had no idea of permitting him to execute in 
 peace. His scouts were constantly on the alert, and when, 
 on the eighteenth of June, the enemy crossed the river and 
 began his retreat, the American army was almost instantly 
 in motion. The march of the British was necessarily re 
 tarded by the long train of wagons and pack-horses which 
 they had collected for the transportation of their plunder, 
 while the troops of Washington were light, and unencum 
 bered by anything except their arms. A knowledge of 
 this enabled the American commander to calculate with 
 great certainty the time and place where the enemy must 
 be overtaken, and his dispositions- were made accordingly. 
 Morgan s Rifles were ordered to gain their right flank; 
 Maxwell s brigade their left; and fifteen hundred picked 
 men, under General Scott, to overtake and gall their rear. 
 Before inching Monrnouth Court House, Sir Henry 
 Clinton became aware that he must soon be overtaken, 
 and, like a consummate soldier, as he was, immediately 
 changed the disposition of his troops, placing his baggage 
 train in front and his most reliable veterans in the rear. 
 That night, (June twenty-seventh,) he encamped in a 
 strong position, protected by impenetrable marshes on 
 either flank. Though fully aware of the strength of the 
 enemy s position, at five o clock on the morning of the 
 twenty-eighth, General Washington, who was in the roar 
 of his own army, sent orders to General Lee to begin 
 
THE RIVALS. 1G1 
 
 the attack; but that officer, from some unaccountable 
 cause, certainly not from a want of courage, instead 
 of an attack, began a disorderly and hazardous retreat. 
 A message from La Fayette brought Washington himself 
 to the front. Those who saw him on that occasion de 
 scribe him as animated by a passion that it was fearful 
 to behold. Every muscle of his usually serene and placid 
 countenance was alive and working. His eye burned with 
 a fire that was absolutely scorching, and his voice rang 
 louder than the trumpet that sounded the charge. Fiercely 
 he demanded of General Lee the cause of "this ill-timed 
 prudence ;" fiercely he rode among the men and ordered 
 them to halt, face about, and meet the now exultant and 
 pursuing foe. His presence acted like magic, and soon, 
 along the whole line, the roar of artillery, and the regular, 
 sustained volleys of musketry, told that the retreat was at 
 an end. 
 
 Most of the details of that glorious day have been em 
 balmed in more enduring histories than this, and the course 
 of our narrative only requires special notice of the opera 
 tions of the left flank, where Lord Stirling commanded, and 
 under whom fought Aaron Burr. 
 
 Anticipating a general engagement, Colonel Burr had 
 employed nearly the whole of the preceding^, light recon- 
 noitering the ground in his front. The sickness or absence 
 of his superiors had devolved upon him the command of 
 one of Stirling s brigades, which was, early in the action,, 
 opposed to a superior British force. Steadily and firmly 
 the veterans of England came on. With equal firmness 
 the Continentals, under their youthful commander, awaited 
 their approach. At the distance of fifty yards the British 
 order to "charge" was given an order which was imme 
 diately answered by that stern shout of the hardy Islanders 
 which has spread terror through the ranks of their foes in 
 
 14* 
 
162 THE RIVALS. 
 
 every quarter of the globe ; but now they were faced by 
 men of kindred blood, and the response was a murderous 
 volley, which checked their career and made wide gaps in 
 their bristling line. Another, and another, succeeded ; and 
 then, in turn, the clear voice of Aaron Burr was heard 
 above the noises of the battle, "Forward, and sweep 
 them from the field !" Disordered as the British were by 
 the heavy fires of musketry, they met the onset with all 
 the proverbial courage and stubbornness of the race. 
 Burr s second in command was killed by his side, and his 
 own horse shot under him, before the enemy were borne 
 back, rather than driven back to a morass, where they 
 promptly reformed behind a supporting force. 
 
 The issue of the direct attack in front had impressed 
 upon the British officers a useful lesson, and they now en 
 deavored, by skillful maneuvering, to gain his left flank. 
 Here again they were met, and again they were foiled. 
 Throughout the whole of that oppressive day combat suc 
 ceeded combat, and when night put an end to the battle, 
 Colonel Burr threw himself upon the ground where he had 
 fought, in the midst of his men, with the dying and the 
 dead around him, and impatiently awaited the reappear 
 ance of daylight, to renew the engagement. Sir Henry 
 Clinton, however, had fared too badly during the day to 
 willingly risk another struggle. If Washington s order 
 had been obeyed by Lee in the early morning, he must 
 have been totally routed ; as it was, his losses were terri 
 ble ; and, now that his baggage train had gained a day s 
 march, every prudential consideration urged him to decamp, 
 secretly, during the night, and follow after them. The 
 morning of the twenty-ninth revealed to the Americans a 
 camp occupied by none but those whose wounds had con 
 verted them from enemies into objects of compassion. 
 
 The unremitted exertions of Colonel Burr on the Held 
 
THE RIVALS. 163 
 
 of Monmouth, bis exposure to the burning sun at noon 
 day, and the chilling dews at night, were too much for his 
 delicate organization, and he rose from the ground on the 
 morning after the battle, so cramped and stiffened, that he 
 was unable to mount his horse without assistance. Yet 
 his physical sufferings brought no abatement of his patri 
 otic zeal. He refused to let his name be entered on the 
 sick report, and cheerfully, in obedience to the orders of 
 Washington, marched to the neighborhood of New York, 
 to watch the motions and obtain information of the inten 
 tions of the enemy. This duty was discharged to the en 
 tire satisfaction of the commander-in-chief ; and when his 
 services in that vicinity were no longer needed, he was 
 ordered to proceed with his regiment to West Point. At 
 West Point, the disease contracted at Monmouth reap 
 peared in an aggravated form. He had taxed his physical 
 powers beyond their strength, and was compelled to seek 
 repose. A few weeks, passed among his old friends in 
 Elizabethtown, improved his health so much that he was 
 induced to believe a respite from labor, until the opening of 
 the next campaign, would restore it entirely. The near 
 approach of winter, and consequent suspension of active 
 operations, took away much of his reluctance to ask for a 
 furlough ; and on the twenty-fourth of October he wrote to 
 General Washington, giving an exact account of the state 
 of his health, and requesting leave to retire from pay and 
 duty until the coming spring. General Washington, always 
 severely just and upright, did not look at the subject in the 
 same light that Colonel Burr did. He thought Burr s 
 fears of the malicious insinuations of enemies groundless, 
 and believed his feelings of delicacy at receiving pay during 
 a period of temporary inactivity overstrained. He thought 
 that an officer was as much entitled to pay during the 
 period necessary for the restoration of his health, broken in 
 
1G4 THE RIVALS. 
 
 the service of his country, as when he was actually in the 
 field, and he could not understand how that country could 
 withhold compensation, under the circumstances, without 
 discredit to itself. Jealous of the honor of the Republic, 
 and decided in his own opinion of the right, he replied to 
 Colonel Burr s application in a letter whose pointed brevity 
 is eloquent of the straightforward justice of the man : 
 
 " HEADQUARTERS, FREDERICKRBURG, ^ 
 
 j 
 
 Oct., 1H8. 
 " DEAR SIR : 
 
 "I have your favor of the twenty-fourth. You, in my 
 opinion, carry your ideas of delicacy too far, when you pro 
 pose to drop your pay while the recovery of your health 
 requires your absence from the service. It is not custom 
 ary, and it would be unjust. You therefore have leave to 
 retire until your health is so far re-established as to enable 
 you to do your duty. Be pleased to give the colonel 
 notice of this, that he may know where to call upon you, 
 should any unforeseen emergency require it. 
 "I am your obedient servant, 
 
 " G. WASHINGTON." 
 
 Burr s military conduct had thus far escaped the misrep 
 resentations of envy ; but he was painfully conscious that 
 he had been sorely wounded in other respects, by false and 
 malignant accusations. Notwithstanding the unbroken 
 silence he maintained, no man ever suffered more under the 
 lash of calumny. He shrunk from the venom of an evil 
 tongue as timidly as a blushing girl. He did not know how 
 soon the accuser might enter the sanctuary of his military 
 life, and he trembled at the bare idea. Determined not to 
 furnish the slightest- excuse for ill-natured comments, he 
 refused to accept the proffered leave of absence except 
 upon his own terms, and immediately repaired to his post. 
 
THE RIVALS. 165 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, exasperated by his losses, and believ 
 ing that a conciliatory policy would only add to the arro 
 gance of rebels who had arms in their hands, determined 
 henceforth to carry on the war upon a system of cruelty and 
 plunder disgraceful to himself and to the country which 
 employed him. Baylor s dragoons were surprised at night, 
 near Tappan, and indiscriminately slaughtered. Pulaski s 
 legion met a similar fate at Egg Harbor. Nor were these 
 barbarities confined to men who had taken up arms in the 
 cause of the colonies. Peaceful citizens were remorselessly 
 butchered, helpless females were outraged, and little children 
 driven out houseless in the wintry weather. No part of the 
 country witnessed more of these horrors than Westchester 
 County, in the State of New York. From the very begin 
 ning of the war, the divisions among its inhabitants had 
 caused it to be overrun now by Whigs, now by Tories, and 
 now by armed banditti who served whatever party prom 
 ised at the time the greatest amount of plunder and the 
 greatest license to cruelty. Scenes of rapine and lawless vio 
 lence increased to such a degree, toward the close of 1778, 
 that, in the language of an eye-witness, "no man went to his 
 bed but under the apprehension of having his house plundered 
 or burned, and himself or family massacred before morning. 7 
 The British forces in New York made frequent incursions 
 into the country, and it was at all times overrun by their 
 spies and emissaries. To counteract these evils and punish 
 these outrages, various American officers had at different 
 times been stationed upon the lines of Westchester; but all 
 had been either outwitted and cut up by the enemy, or had 
 imbibed the universal proclivity for plunder and murder, and 
 become themselves no better than marauders. General 
 McDougall, who had taken command of the district of 
 country of which Westchester constituted a part, resolved 
 that this state of things should come to an end that the 
 
U>tj THE RIVALS. 
 
 plundering parties from New York should be met and driven 
 back that the inhabitants who remained peacefully at home 
 should be protected, and the British emissaries detected 
 and punished. In seeking for an officer upon whom he 
 could fully rely to carry out his energetic purposes, he dis 
 regarded the claims of rank, and, overlooking several others 
 who imagined they were entitled to a preference, he called 
 Colonel Burr from Haverstraw, where he was then stationed, 
 and appointed him to the command of the lines from the 
 Hudson to the Sound, a distance of fourteen miles his 
 headquarters being at White Plains, near the center. In 
 his orders, General McDougall gave still further proof of 
 his unbounded confidence in the valor, the discretion, the 
 activity, the humanity, and the justice of Colonel Burr. 
 After enumerating many things to which he wished par 
 ticular attention should be paid, he added, in reference to 
 all doubtful cases, I authorize you to be sole judge. Thus, 
 at the age of twenty-three, Colonel Burr was vested with 
 almost unlimited powers in the command of one of the 
 most important points in America. After events vindicated 
 the choice of his general, and proved that the confidence 
 reposed in him was not misplaced. 
 
 On the day of his arrival at his future headquarters, he 
 found his predecessor preparing to set out on an expedition 
 whose ostensible object was to watch the movements of the 
 enemy near New Rochelle. Ill advised and injudicious as 
 Colonel Burr regarded this enterprise, he did not feel 
 authorized to interfere, further than to enjoin upon Colonel 
 Littlefield a strict regard for the rights of property, and a 
 careful observance of military discipline on the march. 
 The scouting party were gone the whole night, and the next 
 morning, after Colonel Burr had formally assumed the com 
 mand, he was mortified by seeing them come into the post 
 loaded with plunder. The license of the times and of the 
 
THE RIVALS. 167 
 
 place had made robbery so much a matter of course, that* 
 there was no attempt at concealment. The stolen articles 
 were openly deposited in a heap, to wait an equitable dis 
 tribution among the robbers. At this sight Colonel Burr s 
 feelings of delicacy toward his predecessor vanished. The 
 whole property brought in was unhesitatingly seized, and 
 placed under a guard of his own selection. Regarding the 
 commanding officer as really the most guilty of the party, 
 he inflicted no punishment upon the men, but instituted 
 searching inquiries to ascertain from whom the property 
 was taken ; and when this was done, he ordered its imme 
 diate restoration to the real owners, without any discrim 
 ination between Whigs and Tories. At the same time, 
 he distinctly intimated to officers and men that a license to 
 rob was not to be found in the military code, as he under 
 stood it, and clearly informed them that offenders in that 
 line would hereafter be subjected to condign punishment. 
 Nor was he content to pause here. During that day he 
 rode to every post, repeating his orders and instructions at 
 each one, and giving assurances of protection to the peace 
 ful inhabitants as he went. 
 
 There were among the troops on the lines of West- 
 chester some who had served under or near Colonel Burr 
 in former campaigns. These old soldiers knew that he 
 meant what he said, and would perform to the letter what 
 ever he promised or threatened, and not only dismissed all 
 idea of indulging in any further license themselves, but 
 prepared to aid their commander in his efforts to repress it 
 in others. The people of the country, however, had heard 
 so many solemn promises of the same kind, and had been 
 so often deceived, that they distrusted his professions, and 
 doubted his ability, if he had the will, to protect them ; 
 while the militia, who composed the larger part of his 
 force, had long been so much accustomed to have their own 
 
168 THE RIVALS. 
 
 way, that they looked almost in derision upon any attempt 
 to restrain them from the exercise of their favorite pursuits. 
 Colonel Burr was perfectly aware of the fears of the peo 
 ple and the incredulity of the militia, and calmly awaited 
 a fair opportunity to remove both. 
 
 In the mean time, in order to prevent the intrusion of the 
 enemy s spies, he issued an order that no person from below 
 should pass his lines on any pretext whatever. Their com 
 plaints, if they had any, and their communications, what 
 ever they might be, were to be deposited at the posts, and 
 trusty persons were designated at each one to receive and 
 forward them to headquarters. His next care was to make 
 a careful reconnoissance of the country, which induced him 
 to alter his posts and advance some of them three miles 
 nearer the enemy. Nothing was neglected, and to every 
 thing he gave his personal attention. About this time 
 an opportunity occurred to impress the men and the citizens 
 with the full conviction of his unflinching determination to 
 protect the defenseless, and restore peace and order to a 
 rent and bleeding community. A man by the name of 
 Gedney was robbed by a party of militia, and his family 
 grossly insulted. The finale of the affair is thus narrated 
 by Colonel Burr s biographer : 
 
 "By what means he detected them was unknown; but, 
 before twenty-four hours had elapsed, every man of the 
 party had been secured, and a great part of the stolen pro 
 perty recovered. Upon referring to his register, Colonel 
 Burr found that Gedney was a Tory; but he was known to 
 have taken no active part against the patriots, and Burr 
 had promised that all such should be protected. He 
 therefore caused the robbers to be drawn up in the pres 
 ence of the troops, laden with their booty, and then had 
 them conducted by a company of soldiers to Geduey s 
 house. There he required them, first, to restore the stolen 
 
THE RIVALS. 169 
 
 goods; next, to pay in money for such as had been lost or 
 damaged; thirdly, he compelled each man to present 
 Gedney with a sum of money as a compensation for his 
 fright and loss of time ; fourthly, he had each robber tied 
 up and flogged ten lashes; lastly, he r made each of them 
 ask pardon of the old man, and promise good behavior for 
 the future. All these things were done with the utmost 
 deliberation and exactness, and the effects produced by 
 them were magical. Not another house was plundered, 
 not another family was alarmed, while Colonel Burr com 
 manded the Westchester lines. The mystery and swift 
 ness of the detection, the rigor and fairness with which the 
 marauders were treated, overawed the men whom three 
 campaigns of lawless warfare had corrupted, and restored 
 confidence to the people who had passed their lives in 
 terror." 
 
 Colonel Burr was not yet ready for active operations 
 against the enemy. He wished first to accustom his men 
 to the restraints of a wholesome discipline, as well as to 
 make his own position perfectly secure in every respect. 
 For this latter purpose he established a system of sleepless 
 vigilance, and organized a corps of patrols and videttes so 
 effective that it was impossible for a party of British troops 
 to move in any direction without his immediate knowledge. 
 In this he was greatly aided by the country people, who, 
 satisfied that they had at last found a protector, repaid 
 him tenfold by freely and promptly communicating every 
 species of information that might aid his operations. 
 
 In numerous encounters with small parties of the enemy, 
 Colonel Burr had a fair opportunity of testing the mettle 
 of his men, and he was gratified by observing that they 
 feared no danger and counted no odds when he was their 
 leader. As soon as he was fully satisfied that they could 
 be relied on in any emergency, he resolved to employ them 
 
 15 
 
170 THE RIVALS. 
 
 on a more dangerous serrice than any in which they had 
 yet been engaged. In the lower part of the county the 
 British had erected a block-house as a rallying point for 
 their foraging and plundering parties; this, again, was pro 
 tected by a strong body of several thousand troops, posted 
 some two or three miles off. To destroy this block-house 
 would be to deprive them of a safe and convenient place of 
 retreat, and increase the danger of their forays to such an 
 extent as to make it probable they would be abandoned 
 altogether. He had, according to his custom, carefully in 
 spected the work and the grounds about it, and only waited 
 for a dark and rainy night to put in execution the plan he 
 had formed. It was not long before the weather proved 
 as propitious as he could desire, and, selecting forty men, 
 properly equipped and instructed, just after nightfall he 
 began his march for the scene of action. At two o clock 
 in the morning he arrived in the vicinity of the block 
 house. Here he divided his force into two parties the one 
 commanded by Captain Black, to whom his instructions 
 had been previously communicated, and the other by him 
 self. The garrison was buried in sleep, and the shivering 
 sentinels were more intent upon protecting themselves from 
 the bitter blasts of a northern winter than in looking out 
 for an enemy of whose presence they did not dream. Sud 
 denly the thick darkness was illuminated by flashes of 
 light, and loud and clear rang a voice upon the night air, 
 Charge, and smoke the murdering bandits from their 
 den !" There was a simultaneous rush, short ladders were 
 planted against the block-house, showers of hand-grenades 
 were poured through the port-holes, and the drowsy garri 
 son started from their slumbers to find themselves sur 
 rounded on all sides by fire. The assault had been too 
 sudden and too well planned to admit of resistance, and 
 the British soldiers, instead of flying to their arms, yelled 
 
THE RIVALS. 171 
 
 lustily for quarter. This was at once granted, the prison 
 ers secured, and a rapid retreat commenced. The ruddy 
 hue painted upon the heavens by the burning block-house 
 gave early notice at the British camp of the danger of 
 their friends, and a strong body of horse, followed by an 
 other of infantry, was dispatched without delay to their 
 assistance. But \ong before they could reach the scene, 
 their enterprising foe, with all his prisoners, was safe be 
 yond the reach of pursuit. A heap of burning coals and 
 blackened stones greeted their arrival, but no human being 
 was left to point out the pathway of the destroyer. 
 
 The next day Colonel Burr sent up his prisoners to Gen 
 eral McDougall, and received in. return the warm plaudits 
 of his veteran commander. To the common soldiers he had 
 now become an idol. His unwearied exertions to procure 
 them shoes, blankets, and other comforts, his tender solici 
 tude for the sick and wounded, the unvarying urbanity of 
 his deportment, and his perfect readiness to endure what 
 ever he required others to undergo, created an enthusiastic 
 love for his person that was only surpassed by their un 
 bounded confidence in his- military abilities. The very 
 strictness of the discipline he enforced made his other 
 qualities stand prominently out on the canvas, and they 
 respected and loved him the more from the fact that they 
 dared not trifle with his orders. Brave men they could 
 find anywhere humane men, though not so abundant, were 
 yet no rarity ; it was the union of courage and humanity, 
 animated by tireless activity, and regulated by the highest 
 intelligence, that seized upon their affections, and, to their 
 eyes, invested the young officer with the attributes of a 
 demigod. 
 
 The capture of the block-house was soon follo.wed by 
 an enterprise upon a larger scale. Governor Tryon, of 
 house-burning memory, came out of New York at the 
 
172 THE RIVALS. 
 
 head of two thousand men. His main object was to de 
 stroy certain salt-works on Long Island Sound, but coupled 
 with this he had it in view to drive off cattle, and indulge 
 his men generally in their favorite recreations of robbery 
 and murder. Colonel Burr, though far inferior in the num 
 ber of men he could prudently withdraw from their posts, 
 determined to make the governor pay for his amusement. 
 A messenger was accordingly dispatched to General Put 
 nam, who was nearer to the enemy than himself, advising 
 that officer of his intention to get into Tryon s rear and 
 compel him to give battle or surrender. At the same time 
 he earnestly requested the general to make such demon 
 strations in front as would draw Tryon s attention from his 
 own movements, and facilitate the object he had in view. 
 By means of false information, the British succeeded in 
 misleading General Putnam as to the object and direction 
 of their march, and, instead of complying with the request 
 of Colonel Burr, he sent back his courier to communicate to 
 Burr the supposed fact that Tryon had turned off toward 
 Connecticut. Changing the direction of his own column, 
 Burr followed, as he imagined, in pursuit ; but he had not 
 gone far before he ascertained certainly that General Putnam 
 had been imposed upon. Without a moment s hesitation 
 the faces of his men were again turned toward the Sound. 
 About nightfall, after a long and fatiguing march, he came 
 up with the British rear. Inferior in numbers, and wearied 
 as his own men were, he allowed no time for repose, but at 
 once led them on to the attack. The conflict was short. 
 Governor Tryon was thoroughly alarmed by the boldness 
 and impetuosity of the onset, and thought more of escaping 
 than of fighting. In haste and disarray he retired from 
 the field, abandoning all the plunder he had collected, and 
 leaving many prisoners in the hands of the conqueror. 
 The military career of Colonel Burr was now drawing 
 
THE RIVALS. 173 
 
 to a close. The disease contracted by his exposure on the 
 field of Monmouth had terminated in a confirmed and set 
 tled malady, under the debilitating effects of which he was 
 rapidly sinking. Heretofore the regularity and abstemious 
 ness of his habits had been of essential service in enabling 
 him to undergo the hardships he imposed upon himself, 
 but constant exposure, in spite of all the precautions of 
 prudence, did its work at last. The opening of spring, to 
 which he had looked for his probable restoration to health, 
 brought with it increased debility, and he became painfully 
 conscious that he was no longer able to discharge his duty 
 in the manner to which he had been accustomed, and in 
 which he would alone consent to discharge it. On the 
 10th of March, 17 19, with deep regret, and after long 
 hesitation, he transmitted his resignation to the coni- 
 mander-in-chief. 
 
 No one ever left the service of his country under circum 
 stances more creditable to him, as an officer and as a man, 
 than did Colonel Burr. He found upon the lines of West- 
 chester a discontented, disorderly and demoralized rabble, 
 who hid behind their intrenchments at every appearance 
 of a British force; who made no distinction, in their ma 
 rauding expeditions, between friend or foe ; and plundered, 
 indiscriminately, the unoffending and the guilty. In a short 
 time he converted them into a well behaved, disciplined, 
 almost invincible corps. Not once did the enemy approach 
 his lines without being met and repulsed ; not one soldier 
 deserted his standard; not one was made prisoner during 
 the whole period of his command. It was his pride to teach 
 them that a soldier, with arms in his hands, had no apol 
 ogy for surrendering. He found a distracted and bleeding 
 people, shivering at every blast, and trembling at every un 
 usual noise, in fearful expectation that the robber and the 
 
 15* 
 
174 THE RIVALS. 
 
 spoiler had come to take away the little they had left 
 hating the Continentals as cordially as the red-coats, since 
 both oppressed them alike, and murdering with equal satis 
 faction the one or the other, whenever a safe opportunity 
 occurred. He left them secure in their persons and pro 
 perty sleeping as peacefully within hearing of the enemy s 
 guns as if they were a hundred miles removed devoted 
 to the Republican cause, and zealously exerting themselves 
 to promote it. He found the country overrun by British 
 emissaries and British spies, who kept the British general 
 in New York continually advised of every movement of the 
 Americans above, and enabled him to strike whenever and 
 wherever our troops were least prepared to receive him. 
 These emissaries were detected and punished with such 
 unerring certainty, that, in a brief while, no reward could 
 induce one of them to venture beyond the British posts. 
 The enemy s sources of information were thus entirely cut 
 off, and they were kept in such total ignorance that they 
 dared not hazard a movement of the least importance. 
 To show the difficulties over which Colonel Burr had tri 
 umphed, it is only necessary to state that Major Hall, an 
 excellent officer, who succeeded him in the command, was 
 compelled, in less than one month, to fall back many miles, 
 to be in supporting distance of the army in the Highlands. 
 Colonel Thompson, who was sent to command the same 
 lines, was surprised, taken prisoner, and his forces dis 
 persed or captured. Colonel Greene was also surprised, 
 himself and Major Flagg killed, and the greater part of 
 his troops taken prisoners. No one could maintain the 
 position before Colonel Burr took the command no one 
 did maintain it afterwards. The laurels gathered on this, 
 the last field of his military labors, abided with him through 
 life, and, in the darkest period of his fortunes, one of the 
 bitterest of his revilers was forced to testify that a soldier 
 
THE RIVALS. 175 
 
 could nowhere find a leader who would be more certain to 
 conduct him to honor and renown. 
 
 General Washington reluctantly accepted his resigna 
 tion. No one valued Colonel Burr as an officer more 
 highly than he did, and it is well known that he regarded 
 his retirement as a public calamity. His letter, accepting 
 the resignation, contains expressions which the perfect sin 
 cerity of the man invests with a meaning not usual in such 
 correspondence. It is dated at Middlebrook, April 3d, 
 1179, and, after briefly stating his acceptance of his res 
 ignation, conveys to Colonel Burr the expression of the 
 general s deep sorrow for the cause which rendered that 
 resignation necessary, and his equally deep regret that 
 the country was to be deprived of the services of such an 
 officer at such a time. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 "Alas! the love of woman! it is known 
 
 To be a lovely and a fearful thing 
 For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, 
 
 And if r tis lost, life hath no more to bring 
 To them but mockeries of the past alone." 
 
 COLONEL BURR was now free. Pour years service in 
 the armies of his country had broken his health and seri 
 ously impaired his fortune. Liberal to profusion, his purse 
 was always open to his fellow-soldiers, and those were times 
 when the most fastidious were frequently compelled to ask 
 and accept pecuniary favors. In many cases he advanced 
 sums of money to his acquaintances when he could not 
 have had the most distant hope of repayment. He was 
 now poor, his constitution shattered, and the pathway to 
 military renown closed against him ; but the heaviest blow 
 was yet to come. A few days before his final departure 
 from the lines of Westchester, an officer came in with a flag, 
 to treat for the exchange of prisoners. Through that 
 medium he received a letter from Margaret Moncrieffe. 
 
 11 1 know not when this will reach you," she wrote, "or, 
 indeed, whether your eyes will ever rest upon these pages ; 
 but I should go mad if I did not make the attempt to con 
 vey to you some knowledge of what I feel and suffer. For 
 many months I have submitted to the cruel silence imposed 
 upon us. For many months I have submitted to the harsh 
 injunction that bade me hold no intercourse with my father s 
 enemy, however little that father was entitled to a daugh 
 ter s obedience. Even now that silence would remain 
 (W) 
 
THE RIVALS. 177 
 
 unbroken, if an unnatural tyranny over the affections had 
 not doomed me to become the bride of another. In sur 
 rendering everything else, I reserved to myself the sad 
 luxury of addressing a farewell letter to the idolized being 
 to whom my virgin vows were plighted, and who now holds 
 supreme dominion over my heart. I did not wish you to 
 learn first, through the veracious report of a bribed news 
 paper, that on such a day Margaret Moncrieffe became a 
 happy bride. It will come to you in due time, though the 
 hour for the sacrifice has not yet been decided ; but it soon 
 will be, and soon after that you may expect to read the 
 fulsome announcement of a marriage in high life. I 
 shall be represented, no doubt, as young and lovely, my 
 cheek blooming, and my heart overflowing with happiness. 
 The jewels that adorn, and the flowers that decorate me 
 for the occasion, will claim a place in the description, and, 
 perhaps, suggest a simile to enliven it. When you read 
 the sickening details, distrust them all, except the bitter 
 truth that I have offered up myself as a victim to gratify 
 parental pride and parental avarice. Believe, that at the 
 very moment I take upon me the solemn obligations of a 
 wife, my soul will be dwelling with you. That, though the 
 fitting words may be spoken, and the trembling form sus 
 tain itself unsupported, even at the altar s foot, the gor 
 geous pageant, the decorated cathedral, and the mitred 
 abbot who performs the ceremony will be unheeded, and 
 far away over the broad Atlantic will rise up the plain 
 and humble dwelling beneath whose shelter we first met, 
 and in the verandah upon whose roof we poured into each 
 other s ears those burning sentences that will live through 
 the long eternity of ages in which the soul is destined to 
 suffer or rejoice. The body may be purchased, bargained, 
 bartered for, like cattle in the market ; or it may be driven 
 unresisting as a lamb to the shambles ; but the heart ac- 
 
178 THE RIVALS. 
 
 knowledges no transfer of title, and scorns alike the gold 
 of the trader and the power of the tyrant. That heart 
 is yours, and oh, what a mockery will be the marriage rite 
 that binds me to another! How deep and damning its 
 perjury ! How loathsome its fruits ! Do you shudder, my 
 own love, at the dismal horrors before me? I, too, shud 
 dered once, but I have looked upon them until I am calm 
 calm as the lost wretch who knows that he has descended 
 to the lowest deep and quivered through the deadliest 
 agony. I have even ceased to look forward into the future, 
 and speculate upon the consequences that may flow from 
 the gnawing misery of being chained to a husband I detest. 
 Hope was hidden in the bottom of Pandora s box, and 
 when the thousand ills that it contained flew shrieking 
 from its open lid, the gentle goddess followed on glittering 
 wings and dropped a charm for every woe. More terrible 
 than hers, my marriage gift contains no promised gladness 
 to relieve its present sorrow. What have I to expect on 
 earth when every chord that thrills to the touch of joy is 
 broken? and how dare I look for consolation to the 
 Heaven whose holiest laws I have profaned ? Profaned at 
 the bidding of an earthly parent trampled under foot, that 
 the poor customs of society might be unbroken. Yet I, 
 who feel and writhe under I, who know the dark penalties 
 that wait on obedience to the unnatural demand, have not 
 the resolution to burst the shackles that encircle me and 
 firmly assert the body s right to follow where the heart has 
 gone before. 
 
 "Pity me, for "I am very weak! Forgive me, for I am 
 very wretched ! And oh, do not scorn me, no matter what 
 tale may be borne to your distant home of the vileness of 
 one who loved, who loves, and who will love you with 
 a fervor compared to which idolatry is cold and tame ! 
 With you by my side, I should be contented as the tenant 
 
THE RIVALS. 
 
 179* 
 
 of the humblest hut in America. The toils and hardships 
 that the poorest undergo would be sweet ; and, in the serenity 
 of conscious happiness, I could look down upon a crowned 
 empress, and proudly refuse to exchange my lot for hers. 
 As your wife, I should be gentle, and loving, and good ; 
 humbly returning thanks to Almighty God for the bless 
 ings showered upon me, and hopefully looking forward to 
 the future as a state of blissful regeneration. What I may 
 be now, let those answer who have made dissipation a 
 necessity, and excitement of every kind a respite from tor 
 ture. But whatever may be my fate, let me at least have 
 the consolation of knowing that you are going on undaunt 
 edly to the fulfillment of a glorious destiny. Up to this 
 time every returning ship has brought tidings of your grow 
 ing fame tidings that to me were more welcome than gales 
 freighted with the spices of Arabia. Let your remembrance 
 of me nerve you to sterner exertion, rather than sink you 
 to despondency. Courage and genius never had a nobler 
 field. Press on in your high career ; and when trampled 
 millions shake their chains in glad rejoicings at your suc 
 cess, I shall feel that I did right to worship the hero whose 
 sword struck the living waters of freedom from the rock of 
 tyranny, and vindicated man s inherent right to live, to 
 labor, to love, and to adore, when, and where, and how, the 
 soul in its untrammeled intelligence should direct. 
 
 " Farewell ! In this cold world we shall never meet again. 
 I do not tell you to forget me, for I know that is impossi 
 ble. No matter what grief may overshadow me, no matter 
 what sin or shame may degrade me, I know that you will 
 love me, and every prayer that ascends for your own re 
 demption will be mingled with a fervent aspiration for the 
 wretched girl who loved both wisely and well, and yet 
 loved where it was worse than death to worship." 
 
 Alone in his barrack-room, Aaron Burr read and reread 
 
180 THE RIVALS. 
 
 the wild and despairing confession of the wronged and in 
 jured girl. The big tears gathered in his eyes and rolled 
 slowly, very slowly, down his wasted cheek. 
 
 "Poor Margaret!" he said, "ours has been a stormy 
 love rocked by wintry winds in its cradle, and scorched by 
 blasting lightnings in its prime. Who would have dreamed 
 that the meeting of two hearts so young, so loving, so fitted 
 for each other, could have engendered the mighty woes that 
 have scarred and blackened both ! What had we done to 
 be marked out as the victims of a curse more terrible than 
 that which the rebellious angels dragged down on them 
 selves ? We met each other, and we loved. If that meet 
 ing were a sin, it was not ours. We did not plan it. I 
 knew not of your existence, and if you had ever heard my 
 name, it was coupled with the epithet of traitor. Well do 
 I remember the first time I saw you ! Well do I remember 
 how you nestled to the protecting side of Mrs. Putnam, and 
 glanced at my uniform as at a badge of infamy. The flush 
 of health and the bloom of innocence were on your cheek, 
 and when that short visit ended, I was a captive for eternity. 
 Was that guilt? It was not so esteemed in Paradise, when 
 the enraptured Adam waked from his long repose and knelt 
 in trembling ecstasy at the feet of his new-made Eve. It 
 was not so esteemed when Jesus, on his pilgrimage of atone 
 ment, whispered forgiveness in the ears of Mary Magdalene, 
 because she loved much. Why should the same thing 
 which wiped out the remembrance of her sins bring sorrow 
 and tears to us? Oh, how little do we know! how less than 
 little do we understand of the purpose that placed us here, 
 and drags us on, blind and powerless, through the fretful 
 years of a troubled existence ! How poor and weak is that 
 free will of which we boast! how dim and undefined the 
 narrow boundaries of its power ! Blown about by every 
 passion, yielding to every temptation the sport of circum- 
 
THE KIVALS. 181 
 
 stance and the tool of chance what is left to our own 
 choice? what is regulated as we could wish: Free 
 will, indeed! Is Margaret Moncrieffe free -when she 
 knowingly crushes every bloom of happiness and walks 
 with open eyes to a living grave ? Was I free in that 
 hour when I forgot that she was the daughter of my coun 
 try s foe, and knelt and worshiped at her feet ? Am I free 
 now ? Can I tear her image from my heart of hearts ? for 
 get her love ; forget her grief; forget what she has already 
 borne ; and steel myself against that which she must still 
 endure ? Can I do this, and live ? Oh, no ! I can bear 
 disease, and pain, and poverty, and foul suspicion ; I can 
 struggle on even under the maddening knowledge that her 
 head is pillowed on another breast than mine ; but I can 
 not bear to forget I dare not cease to love. I know not 
 what is before me ; but I know that when I am called upon 
 to embark in the shadowy ship that waits for passenger 
 souls by the shore of time, I shall carry with me a love that 
 has known no change or abatement from that moment when 
 our lips burning vows were sealed and sanctified by our 
 hearts enraptured assent. I shall go on, silent and uncom 
 plaining, and seemingly contented as the other worms about 
 me ; but there will be an inward longing, a slakeless thirst, 
 for which ambition has no cure and excitement no relief; 
 a hopeless gangrene of the soul, rotting and festering until 
 the confines of life are reached and the freed spirit shakes 
 off the dust but not the memories of earth. 
 
 " Pity meP you say, Margaret. God knows, I have deep 
 need of sympathy for myself! but not so great as yours; 
 and all that an overburdened heart has to bestow is freely, 
 fully given. Do not scorn me ! Not I ! though you were 
 stained all over with crimes and vices as black as those that 
 disgraced the foulest daughter of the Medici. I should 
 only mourn that man had the power to convert an angel 
 
 16 
 
182 THE RIVALS. 
 
 of light into an erring, wicked thing ; and shudder at the 
 inscrutable justice that slumbers while the ministers of hell 
 are torturing a child of God into crime. Scorn you ! What 
 right has any mortal man to wear that word upon his lips ? 
 Tempt him in the height of his power and the pride of his 
 wealth, offer him some glittering bauble that he thinks 
 beyond his reach, and his boasted integrity dies in a night- 
 Crush out his affections, bruise him, trample on him, and 
 what does he become ? A vile and loathsome thing, wal 
 lowing in crime and fattening on corruption. How dare 
 he talk of scorn for the sins of another, whose own are 
 mountain high, and whom it needs but a breath of tempta 
 tion to bloat with infamy ! Yet it may well be, Margaret, 
 that you will feel that sting from those who are more guilty 
 than you are. It may well be that the tyranny of opinion 
 will drive you from indiscretion into crime, and then judge 
 you according to that hollow-hearted humanity which looks 
 only at the fruits, and makes no allowance for the seasons 
 that produce them. Yours is a terrible ordeal. God grant 
 that you may pass through it not utterly blasted ! But 
 whether pride and power, or shame and sin shall cluster 
 about you, there is one heart which will cling to you, and 
 throb, through every mutation of fortune and of fame, with 
 a love as undying as your own." 
 
 The solitary candle on his camp table flickered in the 
 socket a few fitful flashes, and it was gone ; the red light 
 of the fire burned low and dim ; but there he sat, rigid and 
 stony, until the sound of the morning reveille roused him 
 ,o life and consciousness again. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " It was a dream y mountain land, 
 
 Where lawless men a refuge found; 
 And Murder, with his purple hand, 
 Eeign d sovereign o er the bloody ground." 
 
 FROM the lines o Westchester Colonel Burr repaired 
 to Newburg, where he remained for some time the honored 
 guest of General McDougall. Oppressed by mental anxiety 
 even more than by physical suffering, he lingered for weeks 
 on the very verge of the grave. At last his temperate 
 habits triumphed, and the healthy current began to creep 
 slowly back to his shrunken veins. In the month of June 
 the British, in large force, made threatening demonstra 
 tions against West Point, and General McDougall, justly 
 alarmed for the safety of the place, sought by every means 
 to open communications with General Washington ; but 
 this was a work of no ordinary difficulty, for the British 
 had so posted bodies of Tories on the roads and among the 
 mountain passes as to render the destruction of any small 
 party or the capture of a single messenger almost certain. 
 General McDougall made repeated efforts to convey intel 
 ligence to the commander-in-chief, but all proved abortive. 
 When these facts came to Colonel Burr s knowledge, feeble 
 and emaciated as he was, he volunteered to undertake what 
 so many had failed to accomplish. The general at first 
 remonstrated, but finally yielded to Burr s urgent solicita 
 tions, and, giving him only verbal instructions, dispatched 
 him on his journey. Well armed, and mounted on a good 
 strong horse, he set out early in the morning on his dan- 
 
 (183) 
 
184 THE RIVALS. 
 
 gerous mission. Toward nightfall, when approaching one 
 of the most difficult passes of the mountain, he observed a 
 man step from the bushes a few yards in advance of him 
 and turn leisurely up the road, giving, apparently, little 
 heed to the horseman of whose presence he could not fail 
 to be aware. He was dressed in the common garb of the 
 country, and carried no visible weapon of any kind. Those 
 were days when prudent men seldom went abroad unarmed ; 
 but Burr inwardly thought that if any one was justifiable 
 in neglecting that precaution, it was the powerful figure 
 before him. Not more than five feet six inches in height, 
 his shoulders were of herculean breadth, and over his 
 ample chest the bones were laid in thick, curved plates 
 that would have bid defiance to the hug of a Norwegian 
 bear. His thigh was so long as almost to amount to de 
 formity, and over it was twisted a net-work of muscles as 
 hard and much more elastic than steel. The short space 
 between the knee and the ankle-joint was almost entirely 
 filled by the swelling calf; and the broad feet looked like 
 pedestals to a mighty statue. He raised his head when 
 Colonel Burr rode up alongside, and exhibited a counte 
 nance that would have been singularly pleasing but for the 
 fierce light which flashed from his dark-hazel eyes. 
 
 "Good evening!" he said in a natural, unaffected tone. 
 Do you travel far on this road ?" 
 
 "Perhaps so," was the reply. "Perhaps not." 
 "Shy, eh ! Shy and skittish ! That looks bad." 
 "Why so? These are not times, nor is this a country 
 in which a man can safely tell his secrets to every person 
 he may chance to meet on the highway." 
 
 "Well, there is some truth in that; and it was none of 
 my business, anyhow." 
 
 But although thus disclaiming any interest in the motions 
 of his companion, the sturdy footman kept within grasp of 
 
THE RIVALS. 185 
 
 the bridle-rein, quickening or slackening his pace to suit 
 the gait of the animal. Burr could not fail to notice that, 
 move as he would, the relative distance between them was 
 always the same. His quick eye, too, had detected the 
 butt of a heavy pistol beneath the coarse frock-coat worn 
 by the countryman, and he doubted not that other weapons 
 were concealed by the same friendly cover. Believing from 
 these indications that the purposes of his new acquaint 
 ance were in nowise friendly, he thought it more advisable 
 to bring on the struggle at once than to allow his adversary 
 the selection of his own time and place. 
 
 "What is that?" he suddenly asked, pointing to a 
 stunted beach-tree on the mountain side. The man turned 
 his head for a moment, and only for a moment, but it was 
 enough. The steed was reined sharply back, and, snatch 
 ing a pistol from his holsters, Burr leveled it full at the 
 head of his pertinacious companion, at the same time 
 sternly demanding, 
 
 "Who are you? and for what are you dogging my 
 steps ?" 
 
 The pistol was double charged ; it was held by a hand 
 never known to tremble in the hour of "danger ; the least 
 motion of his arm, the scraping even of a foot, and the 
 giant pedestrian would have been launched into eternity. 
 His eye caught that of Burr as he turned, and his own 
 fierce gaze sank under the overwhelming power of that 
 steady look which no living thing ever encountered un 
 moved. It was not anger that flashed from those large 
 orbs, nor courage, nor determination merely, but all these 
 combined ; and added to them was a nameless spell which 
 carried with it an irresistible conviction that whatever they 
 threatened was certain to be performed. You felt that 
 it was the glance of doom that there were no chances to 
 
 16* 
 
186 THE RIVALS. 
 
 take, no wavering, no hesitation to hope for. You saw 
 that the man s whole soul was aroused, that all his ener 
 gies were alive and active, and you knew that it would be 
 as safe to play with the lightning s forked dart. The bold, 
 strong animal quailed in the presence of a master-spirit, 
 and, in a tone resembling the whining growl of a chained 
 and conquered bear, he answered, 
 
 "My name is Alexis Durand." 
 
 "That is little to the purpose. Answer me truly, or, 
 by the Mother of God, your lease of life will be a short 
 one. Are you not one of Tryon s Tories ?" 
 
 "I have no choice, I suppose, but to own it, I am." 
 
 "That is enough. I can make out the remainder with 
 out your help. Unbutton that coat." 
 
 The order was sullenly obeyed, and the open garment 
 revealed a belt containing two pistols and one of the broad 
 hunting knives of the day. By successive orders Colonel 
 Burr compelled him to draw out first one pistol, then the 
 other, and then the knife, and drop them at his feet. This 
 done, he marched him forward five paces, counting the steps 
 and following as he advanced ; then he made him lie down 
 on his face until he leaped from his horse and secured the 
 arms. This done, he again mounted his horse and ordered 
 the Tory to rise. 
 
 "Where is your troop now?" 
 
 "Three miles ahead, in the woods at the back of Jordan s 
 house." 
 
 "Who is Jordan?" 
 
 "He is a Tory, and keeps the only public house on the 
 road." 
 
 "That at least tallies with my own information; and 
 pray, remember in your answers, that I did not come here 
 in entire ignorance of anything it concerns me to know. I 
 shall most certainly detect you in any attempt to deceive 
 
THE RIVALS. 187 
 
 me, and then your fate is sealed. Will any of your troop 
 be prowling about before dark?" 
 
 " Not on this side. I was sent to watch here." 
 
 Burr mused a moment, and then said, 
 
 "Now, Mr. Alexis Durand, I propose to sup this night 
 at Jordan s, and as I do not like solitary meals, I shall take 
 you along for company. As much, however, as I love the 
 society of a single friend, I object decidedly to larger par 
 ties, and if any unpleasant intruders should join us, or any 
 other circumstance should occur to mar the festivities of 
 the evening, my dissatisfaction will be instantly manifested 
 by sending a brace of bullets through your skull. You 
 understand me, I hope. Now, forward, march !" 
 
 They had proceeded in this way for a little more than 
 half a mile, when they came to a place where a bridle-path 
 led off from the main road through the woods. Here his 
 prisoner indicated a wish to halt, and Burr, reining up, 
 inquired what he wanted. 
 
 "I should like to ask you a question, sir, that I hope you 
 will not refuse to answer. I know I am in your power, 
 and you may do as you will; but I swear by all that is holy 
 that it shall do you no harm, to tell me truly whether or 
 not you are Colonel Burr?" 
 
 "I do not think I should attach much importance to your 
 oath, if I did not myself feel certain that it can make no 
 difference whether you know me or not I was Colonel 
 Burr, but I have resigned my commission and left the 
 army." 
 
 " Then for God s sake go no farther on this road." 
 
 " Why, you told me just now that it was free as far as 
 Jordan s house." 
 
 " So it is ; but your horse would not be in the stable five 
 minutes before it would be known by those who will com 
 pass earth and hell to spill your blood." 
 
188 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "Your care for my blood," answered Burr coldly, "has 
 wonderfully improved in the last hour. Methinks it is not 
 very long since you had some such purpose as murder in 
 your own head." 
 
 "I did not know you then, and I suspected you of being 
 a spy of General McDougall." 
 
 "And now that you do know me, I cannot understand 
 what has produced so marked a change in your praise 
 worthy intentions. I am not generally held in high esteem 
 by my country s foes." 
 
 " You saved my father s house from being burned ; you set 
 a watch over it, to protect my mother from insult ; and you 
 fed her starving little ones when you knew us to be friends 
 to King George and enemies to Congress. I am the son 
 of John Durand, of Westchester. Have you forgotten 
 him?" 
 
 " No, my good fellow, I remember him well. I remem 
 ber, also, since you have brought it to my mind, that his 
 eldest son was accounted a confirmed robber and murderer, 
 and while I protected your father and mother as an act of 
 justice, and fed your little brothers and sisters as an act of 
 humanity, I should have taken singular pleasure in hanging 
 you to the first tree that offered." 
 
 " I did not begin it, and it is not my fault if there has 
 been a long and bloody account run up between me and 
 those who drove me to take up arms when I was willing to 
 remain in peace with the old folks at home. But, there is 
 no time to talk it over now. The sun is going down. 
 Will you trust me, and follow me ? Believe me, there is no 
 other escape from death. 1 " 
 
 " I will trust you," answered Burr, without the least hesi 
 tation. "Lead on. I think you mean well, and if you do 
 not, my hand will be as steady and my aim as certain in 
 one place as another." 
 
THE RIVALS. 189 
 
 Durand turned into the bridle-path, and walked rapidly 
 on until they were ei.tirely out of sight or hearing from the 
 highway. Here again he paused until Burr rode up to his 
 side. 
 
 "I am taking you," he said, "to the house of a friend 
 of mine, who is, of course, in British pay. There will be 
 no use in telling him anything we can help, and therefore I 
 should like to ask another question or two. Where are you 
 going?" 
 
 "To General Washington s headquarters." 
 
 "So I expected. Do you bear dispatches?" 
 
 "iSTo. I have only verbal messages." 
 
 " That is safer and better. Bill Jenkins s cabin is in less 
 than a mile of us ; there you can have your horse fed, get 
 your own supper, and some hours sleep. After that, I will 
 myself guide you safe beyond danger. I shall call you Mr. 
 Jones, for although I do not fear any treachery from Bill, 
 it is not wise to tempt him too far. Give me my arms ; an 
 angel from heaven could not make me hurt you now, and 
 besides averting Bill s suspicions, it may be necessary to use 
 them in your defense." 
 
 Colonel Burr promptly complied with his request, rightly 
 judging that he had already trusted him too far to hesi 
 tate about any additional confidence. Durand placed the 
 weapons in his belt, and again moved forward with a quick 
 and nervous step. A few minutes brought them to a clear 
 ing on a level bench of the mountain, surrounded by a high, 
 strong fence, in which were three or four cabins, irregularly 
 placed, and built so nearly alike that it was difficult to 
 decide which was designed for the use of man and which 
 for the cattle and poultry that lowed and cackled within. 
 The owner of the premises, who was engaged in the unmas- 
 culine task of milking a cow, had a villainous, bandit look, 
 and the natural repulsiveness of his countenance was 
 
190 THE EIVALS. 
 
 increased by an ugly scar, extending from above the left eye 
 across the nose to the right cheek. He put down his milk- 
 pail, and walked to the gate at the summons of Durand, 
 silencing, as he did so, two fierce wolf-hounds, who were 
 growling and barking furiously at the intruders. 
 
 " This, Bill, is my friend, Mr. Jones," said Durand, after 
 shaking the outlaw by the hand. " He wants some supper 
 and a night s lodging, and I have brought him here, know 
 ing that you would give him a hearty welcome for my 
 sake." 
 
 "To be sure!" answered Jenkins, extending his horny 
 hand to Burr. " I m glad to see you, sir, and though I 
 haven t got much, you re welcome to what s here. Aleck," 
 he continued, "take your friend into the house, and build 
 a fire. He looks sick and weakly, and these mountain 
 dews are mighty chilly. I will take care of his horse." 
 
 "Rub him down well, Bill," replied Durand, "for he will 
 have to travel hard in the morning. Take your time, I 
 will get supper for you." 
 
 Jenkins led off the horse, and Durand entered the house 
 followed by Burr. It was a square one-story log-cabin, 
 covered with boards. Over the joists, for* about one-half 
 the length of the room, loose boards were laid, forming a 
 kind of upper room, which was reached by a rough ladder, 
 and was used as a general depository for any and every 
 thing that the owner desired to put out of the way. The 
 floor was of dirt. Over the fire-place, suspended in racks 
 made of forked sticks, were a long rifle, a British musket, 
 and three or four pistols of different size and make, show 
 ing that they were never intended to match, and indicating 
 pretty plainly that the mode of their acquisition had not 
 been entirely honest. In fact, they had been picked up 
 here and there in the different forays of the present owner, 
 and to some of them tales of murder, as well as robbery, 
 
THE RIVALS. 191 
 
 attached. One chair and four or five stools were scattered 
 about. In the center was a rude, square table. In one cor 
 ner a rough bed, and in the other a pile of blankets, coun 
 terpanes, and a miscellaneous collection of other bedclothes, 
 which never came there through fair traffic. By the door 
 there was a shelf for a water-pail, and near the chimney 
 stood a large cupboard made of pine plank, and fastened 
 by a wooden button. There was no window, and no other 
 furniture. Durand had brought in a dry board, which he 
 split to pieces over a large stone that did duty as an 
 andiron, and, raking the embers together, soon succeeded 
 in blowing them into a flame. While he was thus engaged, 
 Colonel Burr had been noting everything in the house, and 
 he now asked, 
 
 Does your friend live here alone ?" 
 
 " Not exactly. I am with him a good deal myself; but, 
 if you mean to ask whether he has a family, I answer no. 
 Men like us have no use for women folks about the house. 
 It is bad enough to be harried and burned out when we are 
 alone, without being maddened by hearing the women 
 screaming, and the children squalling besides." 
 
 "True," answered Burr, "and there has been too mucb 
 of that on both sides, in this unhappy war. God knows I 
 tried to put a stop to it wherever I held command 1" 
 
 "You did, sir ; and you owe it to that that you are now 
 safe and sound beneath an outlaw s roof, instead of being 
 bound and bleeding in the hands of men who are deaf to 
 the prayers of mercy. You thought you had me in your 
 power, sir; and while we were upon the highway may be 
 you did ; but the moment you had passed Jordan s gate, 
 nay, in the very act of getting from your horse, if your 
 eye had turned from me one instant, you would have been 
 lost. A blow given with half the strength of this arm 
 would crush your ribs like rotten pipe-stems, and it is cer- 
 
192 THE RIVALS. 
 
 tain that I should have found some chance to deal that 
 blow. It was your eye, sir, that saved you. I remem 
 bered my mother s description, and I knew you by that." 
 
 "I am thankful the trial was spared us; though I am 
 not so certain that you, an unarmed man, could have made 
 me a prisoner when fully armed and on my guard. We will 
 let that pass, however, for the present, and, as I have been 
 trusting you more than prudence dictates, while you have 
 given me no information of your plans and intentions, you 
 will excuse me for questioning you upon some things which 
 it imports me much to know." 
 
 "Ask me nothing, if you please sir," said Durand, inter 
 rupting him. " I know where you want to go, and I intend 
 to conduct you there in safety or die in the attempt ; but 
 I shall be no more a friend to George Washington and his 
 cause, when that is done, than I am now. At the same 
 time I serve you for protecting my mother and her children, 
 I remember that it was against your friends that protection 
 was necessary,- and I have no idea of sparing the whole 
 brood of a wolf-bitch because I have found a noble hound 
 among them. Do not ask me anything, therefore, and do 
 not tell me anything. Draw that chair nearer to the fire ; 
 it is always cold up here at night. I must get about 
 supper." 
 
 The meal, and the manner of preparing it, was one for 
 which Burr s experience, notwithstanding his military life, 
 furnished no parallel. Taking down a small iron kettle, 
 which was suspended from a cross-piece in the chimney, 
 he filled it with water and hung it immediately over the 
 blazing fire; then opening the cupboard, he took there 
 from the cold leg of a goat, which he cut into mince-meat; 
 some slices from a side of bacon were added ; two pods of 
 red-pepper, and an onion chopped fine, some hard biscuit 
 broken to pieces, and a handful of Irish potatoes, peeled 
 
THE RIVALS. 193 
 
 and sliced thin. All these were stirred together, plentifully 
 sprinkled with salt, and poured into the now boiling water. 
 
 By this time, Jenkins had returned. Producing a lamp, 
 and drawing a stone jug from underneath his bed, he invited 
 his guests to partake of some "real old Jamaica" an in 
 vitation to which Durand did double honor; and Colonel 
 Burr, fatigued by his ride, swallowed a larger quantity of 
 the potent spirit, according to his own acknowledgment, 
 than he ever did at any other time in his life. 
 
 Those who know nothing of life, except what they have 
 learned in peaceful times, and with carpeted floors beneath 
 their feet, will find little in the foregoing description to 
 please them, and will probably shudder at what is to fol 
 low. Three tin plates, or rather pans, were placed on the 
 table by Jenkins ; as many iron spoons, tin cups, knives, 
 and forks, some hard bread and cheese, a pitcher of milk, 
 and a gourd filled with salt. The kettle was then removed 
 from the fire, and, hot and boiling as it was, placed in the 
 center of the table, so that each one could help himself; 
 and the three, without ceremony, sat down to a meal that 
 a hungry man would have pronounced savory anywhere. 
 In his old age, Colonel Burr declared that it^was the 
 sweetest dish he had ever tasted. 
 
 Durand was the first to rise from the table. "You must 
 excuse me, Bill," he said; "I am going to the camp and 
 will not be back until after midnight. Finish your supper, 
 put plenty of wood on the fire, and go to sleep. The 
 sooner the better for my friend Jones. Close the door and 
 bar the gate ; do not open either for man or devil, until I 
 return. Call the dogs into the house ; they will help you 
 bravely at a pinch." 
 
 "What if any of our boys should come along?" in 
 quired Jenkins. "How can I turn them off?" 
 
 "They will not; but if they should, pretend not to 
 
 n 
 
194 THE RIVALS. 
 
 know them, and shoot the first one that crosses the fence. 
 Mark me," he continued, observing the astonished stare of 
 his companion, "if Governor Tryou himself knocks at this 
 door to-night his welcome must be a rifle-ball. I will 
 explain to-morrow. Good night 1" 
 
 With these words he stepped from the door, and was 
 soon lost among the bushes which grew in rank luxuriance 
 along the mountain side. 
 
 What were the sensations of Colonel Burr when thus 
 left alone with the ill-favored man of crime, beneath whose 
 roof he was so strangely sheltered? To fear he was a 
 stranger ; but was there no doubt, no mistrust, no anxiety ? 
 Not a particle. If there had been any purpose to harm 
 him, he knew that purpose could have been accomplished a 
 hundred times over. For hours he had been in their 
 power. There was no necessity for treacherous scheming 
 to effect either his death or capture. Calm and self- 
 collected always, the probability is that these reflections 
 passed through his mind more like the flashes of instinct 
 than the teachings of reason. Durand s good faith he 
 could not question, and Jenkins had not given him the 
 slightest cause to harbor suspicion. Thus far he had done 
 precisely what his comrade had told him, and done it in 
 such a way as to make it certain that no sinister design 
 troubled his brain. Nothing of this was lost upon Colonel 
 Burr, and after Durand s departure he took his seat com 
 posedly by the fire, and began caressing one of the large 
 wolf-hounds who was gnawing a bone at his feet, while 
 Jenkins was bringing in some additional logs to heap in 
 the chimney. After this, the outlaw placed two strong 
 bars across the door, and, taking a seat, entered into 
 friendly chat with his guest upon subjects that offered no 
 chance for party disagreement. At that period of the 
 American Ilevolution it was not always safe to ask, much 
 
THE RIVALS. 195 
 
 less to answer, questions, and Jenkins was too well aware 
 of the fact to trouble his visitor with impertinent queries ; 
 but what he did say was friendly, and his manner was 
 wholly unembarrassed. Even the dogs seemed to under 
 stand that the stranger was to receive none but kindly 
 treatment, for one of them, when he had finished his bone, 
 laid his huge head upon Colonel Burr s knee, and looked 
 wistfully up into his face as if soliciting a caress. Colonel 
 Burr was passionately fond of a good dog, and an excel 
 lent judge of his points. The deep chest and sinewy loin 
 of the noble animal supplied him with a subject for con 
 versation until Jenkins rose, and, saying it was time they 
 should go to sleep, spread blanket after blanket, and coun 
 terpane after counterpane, on the floor, until he had made a 
 pallet" as soft as a bed of down, upon which he invited 
 Burr to lie down and rest until Durand s return. He then 
 sought his own couch, and the dogs unceremoniously dis 
 posed of themselves at Burr feet. 
 
 It was long past midnight when Colonel Burr was 
 roused by a fierce growl from his four-footed sentinels. 
 The same sound awoke Jenkins, who, springing from his 
 bed, silenced the dogs by a stern whisper, " Hush, Brute ! 
 lie down, Cash !" and walking to the door, laid his head 
 against it to listen. The sound of a horse s feet was 
 heard approaching over the rocky path, and soon after 
 wards Alexis Durand shouted at the gate, " Open, Bill ; it 
 is me !" 
 
 "When the door was opened and Durand entered, Burr 
 discovered that he had added a rifle, together with a 
 bullet-pouch and a powder-horn, to his equipments. His 
 manner, too, was hurried like that of a man whom some 
 danger threatened and who was impatient to be gone. 
 
 "It is later," he said, "than I expected it would be 
 before my return. I had trouble to get away, and we may 
 
196 THE RIVALS. 
 
 meet with more on the road. Get Mr. Jones s horse, Bill ; 
 we have no time to tarry here I" 
 
 The horse was brought, and, after bidding Jenkins a 
 cordial "good-by," the two mounted and rode down the 
 mountain in a direction nearly at right angles with the 
 road. From the many turnings and zigzags made by his 
 guide, Colonel Burr soon lost all idea of the direction they 
 were traveling. Now they were winding among huge 
 masses of white, rugged rocks ; now the bed of a mount 
 ain torrent crossed their way; now a deep ravine, black 
 and gloomy, barred their passage ; anon they were skirting 
 the base of a frowning precipice, and again climbing a 
 steep ascent, which rose sharp and sudden before them. 
 Colonel Burr could discover no sign of a path, but his 
 conductor rode on, avoiding or surmounting obstacles with 
 an unerring certainty that proved his perfect knowledge 
 of every inch of the ground. Toward daylight they de 
 scended into the plain, and just as the sun was rising they 
 emerged from a thick wood in full view of a broad and 
 beaten road. Here Durand reined up. 
 
 "You are safe, Colonel Burr beyond the danger of 
 interruption from our scouts. That road leads to George 
 Washington s headquarters, and you are now within a few 
 miles of his outposts." 
 
 Burr turned toward his preserver and said, in a voice 
 shaken by emotions he did not attempt to suppress, 
 
 " Mr. Durand, you have rendered me a great service, 
 and I thank you from my heart. Not, however, for the 
 life you have probably saved, for of that I take little heed ; 
 but it concerned my honor that the message I bear should 
 be safely delivered. Is there nothing I can do to repay 
 you ?" 
 
 " I was paid in advance. The man who saved my mother 
 
THE RIVALS. 197 
 
 from insult has a right to work me in a chain-gang, if he 
 chooses." 
 
 "That was an act of common humanity, for which I 
 deserve no particular credit." 
 
 "It was a rare one, sir, in those times ; and when I forget 
 it, I hope the thunder may strike me. We Tories are human 
 beings, although your Whig friends seldom treat us as 
 such. We have had much to make us bloody, and lawless, 
 and revengeful ; and we have therefore done much at which 
 good men must shudder ; still, we are better than you give 
 us credic for being, and gratitude is not an obsolete word 
 among us." 
 
 "Of that I have ample proof. I wish you would let me 
 show my own, by procuring for you a full pardon for all 
 past offenses, with permission to remain peacefully at home, 
 or join the American standard, as you may prefer." 
 
 "You speak in kindness, colonel, and I hope you will 
 not think I meet it rudely in saying that this good rifle is 
 all the pardon I need. As for joining the American 
 standard, I may think of that when I forget the wrongs I 
 have suffered at American hands." 
 
 "That there has been wrong on both sides, I know; but 
 surely those who are in arms against their country could 
 not expect to be treated very leniently." 
 
 "Your historians, colonel, will tell one story, and ours 
 another. If you succeed, yours will be believed if we 
 triumph, you will be the traitors. The judgment of pos 
 terity, therefore, upon our motives, will be worth just noth 
 ing at all ; but if an account of the facts could be written 
 precisely as they are, an impartial jury would say that we 
 have been at least as much sinned against as sinning. Take, 
 for instance, the case of Bill Jenkins, under whose roof you 
 slept last night. At the beginning of these troubles, he 
 was just married, and there was not a-more quiet, orderly, 
 
 n* 
 
198 THE RIVALS. 
 
 industrious young man in the Colony of New York. He 
 believed, honestly and conscientiously, that King George 
 was entitled to his allegiance, and refused to join the rebell 
 ion. This subjected him to insult, and, after awhile, to 
 worse. He was dragged from his bed at night, tied to a 
 tree, and lashed like a condemned thief, until the blood ran 
 down to his heels. His young wife, who was far gone in 
 pregnancy, looked on the horrible scene till she fainted, and 
 died the next day, in giving premature birth to the child 
 she bore. Do you wonder that from that day Bill Jenkins 
 became a house-burner and a murderer? Do you wonder 
 that he forgot to distinguish between those who had wronged 
 him and the party to which they belonged, and inflicted 
 vengeance on all alike ?" 
 
 "No ; but his is an extreme case ; there are very few who 
 have his excuse." 
 
 "Not many, perhaps, who have suffered so much; but all 
 of us have suffered in some way, and all of us have more 
 or less to avenge." 
 
 "Your way of stating the case is a strong one, Mr. 
 Duraiid, when addressed to the ignorant and the unreflect 
 ing; but a man of your education and intelligence must 
 understand that this is not a personal quarrel. It is a ques 
 tion of freedom of freedom for the whole land, and for our 
 whole posterity. There may be a dozen, or ten dozen, or 
 ten thousand bad men among us, who commit wrongs and 
 outrages upon their fellow-men, in the mere wantonness of 
 cruelty; but that does not affect the justice of the cause 
 any more than the bad conduct of a thousand hypocrites 
 impairs the sanctity of the Christian religion. You have 
 no more right to take up arms against your country, because 
 a Whig has robbed your house, than you have to desert the 
 cause of Christ, because a professing Christian has cheated 
 you in trade. You must remember, too, that the things of 
 
THE KIVALS. 199 
 
 which you complain were, in a great measure, brought upon 
 yourselves. If you had taken sides, in the beginning, 
 openly and boldly, for your country, you would not have 
 been molested. It is no answer, to say that you honestly 
 believed your country to be in the wrong. It is not a case 
 for reasoning about right or wrong. If you saw a strong 
 man beating your mother, I do not think you would trouble 
 yourself to inquire what provocation she had given him. 
 So, in this case, your country is engaged in an unequal 
 war, and whether she is right or whether she is wrong, the 
 arms, hearts, and swords of her sons are her legitimate pro 
 perty. Before the war began, it was your privilege to use 
 argument, reason, and persuasion, if you chose, to prevent 
 it from breaking out ; but when it did come, when the blood 
 of your neighbors and friends was poured out like water 
 upon their native fields, patriotism, honor, duty, manliness, 
 all demanded that you should raise your hand on the side 
 of the oppressed." 
 
 "We have no time now to argue the point, colonel, and 
 we should probably be as far from agreeing, at the end of 
 the discussion, as we are at this time. It is not safe for me 
 to linger here. Good-by, and if ever you should meet my 
 mother, tell her that her son obeyed her commands and paid 
 a part of her debt. Tell her also that I shall keep on pay 
 ing it, whenever a proper occasion arises;" 
 
 "At least," said Colonel Burr, extending a large seal ring 
 as he spoke, " at least accept this, and promise me that if ever 
 you get into trouble you will not fail to let me know it." 
 
 "Gladly do I accept the ring," replied Durand; "but as 
 for the promise of applying to you in any coming trouble 
 that may overtake me, you must pardon me for not giving 
 it. It will depend on circumstances, and of those circum 
 stances I must be the judge." 
 
 Colonel Burr extended his hand the sturdy outlaw 
 
200 THE RIVALS. 
 
 almost crushed it in his iron grasp ; then, drawing his 
 sleeve across his eyes, as if to wipe away something misty 
 that had gathered there, he turned his horse into the wood 
 and rode rapidly back toward the Highlands. 
 
 Colonel Burr had not ridden far, after parting with Du- 
 rand, before he met a patrol of American horse, by whom 
 he was conducted to the presence of the coinmander-in- 
 chief. The message he delivered from General McDougall, 
 and his own remarks and observations upon the state of 
 affairs around New York, were considered so important 
 that General Washington immediately marched the largest 
 part of his army to the Highlands, and established his own 
 headquarters at New Windsor, within a few miles of West 
 Point. 
 
 The excitement 1 which sustained him under the fatigues 
 of his perilous journey was over, and the reaction proved 
 too much for Colonel Burr s feeble health. He was again 
 prostrated, and, in that condition, was removed to New 
 Haven, where, it was thought, he would have the benefit 
 of better quarters and more regular medical attendance. 
 He was lying at this place upon a bed of sickness when 
 his old enemy, Governor Tryon, at the head of twenty-five 
 hundred men, sailed out of New York, on one of his usual 
 plundering and burning expeditions. His first landing was 
 near New Haven, and the frightened citizens, to whom his 
 former merciless exploits were familiar, fled in all directions 
 to the country. Vehicles of every imaginable description 
 crowded the roads, and women and children ran screaming 
 by the side of their household goods. Immediately upon 
 receiving intelligence of Tryon s landing, Colonel Burr rose 
 from his sick couch, dressed himself, and repaired to a part 
 of the town where he understood the militia were gathering 
 for the purpose of making* some show of resistance. He 
 found them assembled together, indeed, but utterly panic- 
 
THE BIVALS. 201 
 
 stricken, and entertaining about as much idea of giving bat 
 tle to the enemy as a drove of sheep might be expected to 
 entertain in the presence of a gang of ferocious wolves. 
 Excited and indignant, he addressed them in the fervent 
 language of patriotism, urging them to defend their fire 
 sides and their altars from an insulting foe, and pointing 
 out how much better it was to die nobly in a good cause 
 than to live degraded and debased. The men, however, 
 were too much under the influence of fear to heed, or even 
 listen to his stirring appeals. A few gathered around him, 
 but the greater part began to slink away. Just as he was 
 about giving up in despair the attempt to infuse some 
 degree of manliness into their bosoms, he was informed 
 that the students were forming themselves into military com 
 panies on the college green, and thither he rode, followed by 
 a few of the militia, who had imbibed a portion of his own 
 courage. Addressing the boys in a few energetic words of 
 encouragement and commendation, he proclaimed his name 
 and former rank, and offered to lead them against the enemy. 
 The little fellows answered with three hearty cheers, and, 
 wheeling into column, marched out to meet the forces of 
 Governor Tryon. Shamed into courage by this gallant ex 
 ample, numbers of the militia joined them as they marched 
 along, and by the time the enemy came in sight Colonel 
 Burr was able to display so considerable a force that, after 
 trying the effects of a few shots, Governor Tryon fell back 
 to wait for his artillery, which he had left behind, in the 
 belief that no resistance would be offered. By a skillful 
 disposition of his little force, Colonel Burr succeeded in 
 keeping the British at bay for hours, and thus enabled the 
 citizens to remove their valuables beyond the reach of the 
 marauders. The arrival of the artillery, of course, com 
 pelled him to retreat, but it was done in excellent order, 
 and his regiment of boys was safely conducted from the 
 
202 THE RIVALS. 
 
 town. In after years there was no achievement of his life 
 upon which he dwelt with more pleasure ; and even in ex 
 treme old age his eye would sparkle at the mention of New 
 Haven College. But it cost him dear at the time. He was 
 carried from his horse to a sick chamber, and continued, 
 for months, a bed-ridden invalid. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 "Things done well, 
 
 And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; 
 Things done without example, in their issue 
 Are to be feared." 
 
 WHEN the resignation of Colonel Burr was received at 
 headquarters, Alexander Hamilton could scarcely conceal 
 his joy ; and as soon as he could seize an opportunity he 
 went to communicate the glad tidings to Billings. That 
 dark schemer had remained almost constantly with the 
 main army. The principal part of his property was in 
 the City of New York, and while that city was in posses 
 sion of the British and his own residence occupied, as it 
 was, by a British officer, he had a plausible excuse for 
 remaining in the field. His presence had long ceased to 
 excite comment. In fact he was not only heartily wel 
 come, but his abandonment of the army would have been 
 looked upon as a calamity, for no man ever knew better 
 how to make himself popular than James Billings, when 
 he chose to exert himself for that purpose. Professing to 
 have no home but that where the soldiers of his country 
 were found, he provided himself with a tent and wagon 
 of his own, and whenever the -army moved he moved 
 with it. His command of money often enabled him to 
 furnish luxuries to the sick or wounded officers, which were 
 very grateful to them, and were always remembered to his 
 advantage. If the army remained for any length of time 
 in one place, he generally contrived to secure a house, 
 where his judicious hospitalities won for him golden opin- 
 
 (203) 
 
204 THE RIVALS. 
 
 ions from all ranks and classes of the soldiery. Besides, it 
 was known that he had rendered important services to the 
 cause of the struggling colonists ; and he obtained credit 
 for a great deal more than was actually due him. Some 
 times he would be gone for weeks no one knew where, and 
 few inquired. During his absence, he would turn over his 
 field equipment to some necessitous officer, who was in this 
 way enabled to enjoy a season of comfort that did not often 
 fall to his lot, and who immediately became the devoted 
 friend of the man to whom he was thus indebted. On two 
 or three occasions, he had seized a musket and fought 
 bravely in the ranks by the side of private soldiers ; acquir 
 ing a reputation, by so doing, for personal courage as high 
 as that which was accorded him for patriotism and liberality. 
 In every respect Mr. Billings was a popular and a trusted 
 man. Toward Colonel Hamilton, in public, his manner 
 was always scrupulously polite, and no one suspected the 
 closeness of the intimacy between them. Their interviews 
 were never frequent, and were generally contrived at times 
 to excite the least observation. On the present occasion, 
 Colonel Hamilton approached him during the day and 
 said, 
 
 "If you are alone, Billings, and we can be undisturbed, 
 I will come and sup with you to-night." 
 
 "I am alone, or can easily be so. At what hour shall I 
 expect you ?" 
 
 "Eight o clock, if that hour suits you." 
 
 "Very well; until then, adieu." And he turned with an 
 easy, unembarrassed manner, to greet several officers who 
 came up at the moment. 
 
 Colonel Hamilton s impatience carried him to Billings s 
 door a full half hour before the appointed time. That 
 worthy, who was something of an epicure, was busy in 
 giving instructions to his cook how to prepare his favorite 
 
THE RIVALS. 205 
 
 dishes. The entrance of his guest interrupted this agree- 
 able occupation, and, dismissing the man, he courteously 
 invited Hamilton, according to the custom of the times, to 
 join him in a glass of Madeira. 
 
 Those who live in camps cannot be very fastidious, and 
 Mr. Billings was forced to be contented with one apart 
 ment for dining-room, sitting-room, and bed-room. In this 
 apartment, before supper, the servant was engaged in 
 making preparations for the evening meal, and conversa 
 tion of a confidential nature was therefore impossible. 
 After it was concluded, and the two were left to them 
 selves, Hamilton opened his budget of news, adding at the 
 close, 
 
 "You see now that I was right in protesting against 
 personal violence. We are rid of him. No one is to 
 blame. We have no cause for self-reproach, and will be 
 annoyed by no fears of a disgraceful exposure." 
 
 Billings made no comment on this self-gratulatory ad 
 dress, merely inquiring, 
 
 "Has the resignation been accepted?" 
 
 " No ; but it will be. Such things are matters of course." 
 
 " Study well the letter of acceptance before you send it. 
 Let it be perfectly courteous ; but at the same time avoid 
 strong expressions of regret, or strong commendation of 
 his past services." 
 
 "I will, if I write it; but the general frequently writes 
 such letters himself, merely directing me to copy. In that 
 case I can do nothing." 
 
 " It would not be prudent certainly to show much feel 
 ing about it, and it may never be of the least importance. 
 Still, I would like to see that letter before it goes." 
 
 " I will gratify you if I can ; though I do not under 
 stand why you should consider it of the least consequence. 
 He is out of the army- he is out of my way, and I do not 
 
 IS 
 
206 THE RIVALS. 
 
 care a farthing how much men may praise him for what he 
 has done." 
 
 " He is at present out of the army and out of your way ; 
 but it is by no means certain that he will stay so. At the 
 expiration of a year, or less, his health may be restored, 
 and he may then come back into the army and into your 
 way too. I have studied his character to little purpose, if 
 he will long rest contented in the walks of civil life when 
 the clash of arms is sounding in his ears." 
 
 "You are mistaken, Billings. He cannot come back 
 without entering below those who are now his juniors, and 
 his proud spirit will never consent to that." 
 
 "I hope so; but I doubt. I have understood that he 
 did accept the appointment of lieutenant-colonel when the 
 date of that appointment placed him below some who were 
 his juniors the preceding campaign. What he has done 
 once he may do again. At all events, you ought to be 
 careful to do nothing to facilitate his re-entrance into mili 
 tary life. Keep him out by all means. The rewards that 
 will follow success in this contest must be reaped by the 
 sword, or all the teachings of history are false. Let us 
 turn, however, to a question of more immediate concern; 
 I mean the influence this resignation ought to have on 
 your own course. Have you thought of that? Do you 
 propose to remain in your present position, or to exchange 
 it for another?" 
 
 " I have not had time to mature my plans. My judgment, 
 though, inclines me now, as heretofore, to seek employment 
 in the line." 
 
 "My opinion has long been made up on that point. It 
 must be done some day, and the sooner the better." 
 
 "I wish from my heart that it could be done to-morrow ; 
 but I foresee that it will be a work of time. The difficul 
 ties I mentioned on a former occasion have been increased. 
 
THE RIVALS. 207 
 
 I have become necessary to General Washington, and, in 
 addition to the jealousies of the line officers, I shall also 
 have to overcome his reluctance to part with me." 
 
 "There is an obvious mode of getting over that difficulty. 
 Quarrel with him upon some point of etiquette which 
 involves no feeling and will leave no sting behind." 
 
 "It may be a long time before any such chance will 
 occur; and just now it would do no good, for he is fixed in 
 his determination not to give staff officers commands equal 
 to their staff rank in the line. I will have a better chance 
 of weakening, if not reversing, this determination by 
 remaining near his person." 
 
 " That is desirable, if it can be done ; though in your 
 place, I would not wait long in the hope of bringing it 
 about. Where you are, promotion is next to impossible, 
 and it is better for you to accept a place below your juniors 
 than to continue in the staff. In the line, the whole field 
 is open before you. Skill and courage are there certain of 
 their rewards; and now that Colonel Burr has retired from 
 the service, I know no competitor of whom you have rea 
 son to fear. You are a better soldier to-day than any gen 
 eral officer in the army, and George Washington knows 
 it ; but Congress and the country do not know it, and will 
 not know it, so long as you are tied to the person of the com- 
 mander-in-chief and are allowed to win no fame except such 
 as is reflected from him. It is better, I repeat, to take any 
 command you can get in the infantry, and trust to your own 
 exertions to rise from it. That you will rise, I know ; and 
 every step makes the ascent easier and more rapid." 
 
 "I did not suspect you, Billings, of calling my vanity to 
 your aid. Your advice is sound enough to commend itself 
 without such assistance, and I shall watch for an opportu 
 nity to act upon it, as impatiently as yourself. My action, 
 however, must not be unduly hurried. It is a maneuver 
 
208 THE RIVALS. 
 
 which requires skill and caution, and in such cases time and 
 chance are often our best friends." 
 
 "Very good friends they are, if properly improved; and 
 I know of no one better qualiiied than yourself to make the 
 most of them." 
 
 There was a pause of some minutes in the conversation, 
 which Billings employed in helping himself to a glass of 
 Madeira. 
 
 "Is there any late news from France?" he inquired, 
 observing that Hamilton manifested no inclination to recur 
 to the former topic. 
 
 "Nothing but what you have heard. The treaty is 
 ratified, and we are soon to have a French fleet upon our 
 coast and a French army fighting by our side." 
 
 "And I sincerely wish," exclaimed Billings, "that fleet may 
 find its way to the bottom of the Atlantic before it touches 
 these shores. His most Catholic Majesty has thrust his 
 spoon into a dish where he is not wanted. There is no 
 more porridge than will suffice for our own stomachs, and 
 I pray earnestly that he may get well scalded for his imper 
 tinence." 
 
 "I cannot agree with you, Billings. This alliance was 
 all important. It secures our independence beyond cavil or 
 dispute. " 
 
 " It was secured without it. England had but one chance 
 from the beginning to reconquer these colonies, and that 
 was thrown away by the foolish statesman who controlled 
 her councils. If she had poured an overwhelming force 
 upon us before the Declaration of Independence ; if she had 
 landed an army at Boston, another at New York, and another 
 at Charleston, and marched from each place directly into the 
 country, one-half of the people would have joined her 
 standard, and the other half would have been subdued in a 
 twelvemonth. As it was, they sent over an insignificant 
 
THE RIVALS. 209 
 
 force, which has been confined to the sea-coast, because 
 they dared not move beyond supporting distance of their 
 ships, and even there have been compelled to huddle to 
 gether, lest they should be cut to pieces in detail. The neces 
 sary result of such a policy has been to give the republicans 
 full time to overawe the loyalists, to dissipate their dread of 
 British prowess, and inspire them with a confidence in them 
 selves which makes reconquest an impossibility. The first 
 two years of the war achieved the independence of America. 
 After that, it was merely a question how long British obsti 
 nacy would persist in a hopeless attempt at subjugation. 
 I hoped and believed that it would be ten or twelve years, 
 and in that time I calculated that the free necks of the 
 colonists would be pretty well prepared to receive the yoke 
 of a military leader, under some title, no matter what, so 
 he had the power of an emperor. Now this interference 
 of France disturbs those calculations, and leaves me at sea, 
 without a chart or compass to guide me. John Bull s 
 game is proverbial. He may become incensed at the inter 
 meddling of his old enemy, and rouse himself to more 
 strenuous exertions ; but, on the other hand, there is a 
 chance of his being alarmed at the probability of America 
 becoming a dependency of France, and he may thus be 
 induced to conclude a treaty with his revolted subjects as 
 soon as decency will permit a result that would put an 
 effectual extinguisher upon your hopes and upon mine. I 
 could see my way clearly before ; I cannot do so now. The 
 probabilities are so nearly balanced that it. is difficult to de 
 cide which scale preponderates ; and therefore I pray that 
 the French fleet may be met on the ocean, and sunk or 
 captured, whenever it sails. A great naval victory will so 
 stimulate the national pride of England, that Parliament 
 will vote liberal supplies to carry on the war, and ministers 
 dare not run counter to the national repugnance of the 
 
 18* 
 
210 THE RIVALS. 
 
 people to surrender these rich provinces to the fostering 
 care of King Louis. Every time they beat the French, by 
 land or sea, the fortunes of Alexander Hamilton will wear 
 a brighter verdure." 
 
 " There is another side to the argument," replied Hamil 
 ton, "to which you do not seem to attach sufficient import 
 ance. The same success that encourages them will depress 
 the spirits of our army and people, and dispose them to 
 return to their alllegiance upon terms of simple forgive 
 ness for the past. You will admit that this would be more 
 fatal to our hopes than the case you have supposed." 
 
 "I wish, Colonel Hamilton," answered Billings, earn 
 estly, "that you would study the history of this people 
 more carefully than you have done, and make yourself bet 
 ter acquainted with their character. The three tides of 
 emigration, which have at different periods swelled the 
 number of inhabitants on this continent, were all singu 
 larly alike in one remarkable trait. Obstinacy was the 
 leading feature in the character of all of them. First, 
 there came the old Puritans, who, rather than comply with 
 certain immaterial forms of public worship, abandoned 
 home and kindred for a residence among savages and wild 
 beasts. The questions whether a man should repeat his 
 prayers standing or kneeling, whether he should read them 
 from a book or utter them extemporaneously from the 
 lips, whether a minister should or should not wear a gown 
 of a particular fashion, and the dozen other equally im 
 portant points of disagreement between the established 
 church and the dissenters, all seem to my mind unspeak 
 ably absurd. Not so thought the puritans. Thgy frn^ 
 marked out a particular road to heaven, and were de 
 termined to travelno^othcrT^ A creature possessed of as 
 "much reason as a mad bull, ought to have understood that 
 it made no difference through what avenue the soul op- 
 
THE RIVALS. 211 
 
 preached the kingdom of eternal rest. It was foolish to 
 require them to follow a particular form of worship ; but 
 since that form could in nowise affect their future welfare, 
 it was the part of plain common sense to yield obedience 
 to the law. These stern zealots would not look at the 
 subject in any such reasonable or peaceful light. They 
 loved opposition for its own sake, and clung to their preju 
 dices the more tenaciously because they were illegal. It 
 was from this stock headstrong, obstinate, unyielding, 
 and unreasonable that the first colonists sprung. Their 
 next accession was immediately after the civil wars in 
 England. Oliver Cromwell had swept legitimate monarchy 
 from the land, and unceremoniously shortened a crowned 
 king by a head. The followers of that king, who held out 
 longest, who were the most determined and unflinching in 
 his support, whom defeat, confiscation, and the military 
 execution of their friends, had failed to dismay, refused to 
 accept the offered amnesty of the great usurper, and came 
 over here, where they were at least removed from his per 
 sonal presence. Unlike the Puritans in almost everything 
 else, they had the same obstinate devotion to their own 
 opinions, and the same readiness to suffer martyrdom for a 
 punctilio. When Cromwell was taken away on that tem 
 pestuous night which was a fitting close to his wild and 
 stormy career, the sternest of the regicides, who never 
 could be brought to acknowledge the lawful rule of the 
 house of Stuart, abandoned England and hastened hither 
 to add a new stock of obstinacy to a market already more 
 than sufficiently supplied with that commodity. The char 
 acteristics of the ancestry have not been softened in their 
 descendants by the dangers and difficulties in the midst of 
 which they have been nursed. The spirits of such a peo 
 ple cannot be broken. Their towns may be taken, their 
 armies may be beaten, but they will gather head again, 
 
212 TIIK RIVALS. 
 
 and, in (lie end, tiro out a foe of more than ton times their 
 numerical strength. It is immaterial to them whether they 
 light for an abstract principle or against the most palpa 
 ble and galling oppression. They have no idea of surren 
 dering a principle because it is of no practical importance, 
 and still less of retracting anything which they have once 
 uttered. They have declared that "these Colonies are, 
 and of right ought to be, free and independent States," 
 and they will stick to the declaration until Kngland is 
 compelled to acknowledge it by pecuniary exhaustion. 
 Bear these things constantly in mind. We do not want 
 assistance. If your position should enable you to dis 
 courage our French allies, in any way, in God s name, do 
 it ! Create jealousies between them and our troops, offend 
 their punctilious .pride, and send them back to France in 
 disgust, if possible. You and 1 were not born in this 
 country; neither of us is tied to it by kindred or by 
 ancestral remembrances; neither of us is aflliotod by Uto 
 pian dreams of philanthropy; we are laboring for our own 
 advancement; the means, though dillicult, are perfectly 
 obvious. When things do not work to suit us, we must 
 make them; this is no time for doubts or scruples; you 
 have extended your hand to grasp a scepter, and I have 
 staked my all upon your success. A failure after so fair a 
 beginning would be doubly mortifying, and fail we must if 
 this French alliance brings about a speedy peace. If the 
 \yar ends in one year or two years from this date, George 
 Washington may place a diadem on his head ; but it is 
 doubtful whether it would not be torn even from his brow, 
 and it is certain that if any one else makes the effort, his 
 reward will be a gibbet instead of a throne. To remove 
 him now would be of no avail. The army must first get 
 accustomed to the sound of another name. They must be 
 taught that another can pilot them through storms as well 
 
THE RIVALS. 
 
 as lie. They must be prepared to look to that other as an 
 unquestionable hauler in the event of his death; and to 
 accomplish these things time in indispensable, A pro 
 tracted struggle is not merely desirable, but absolutely 
 essential on another aceount it is necessary that the peo 
 ple should become so satiated with blood, so weary of 
 plunder and house burning, that they will be reluctant to 
 engage in a new contest, and quietly acquiesce in whatever 
 choice the army may make. You see I deal plainly, and 
 keep nothing back. Situated as we are, we must not only 
 work for the same end, but the means must be also the 
 same. Kach one must know all that the oilier proposes to 
 do, and the way in which he proposes to do it." 
 
 "1 admit," replied Hamilton, "the general soundness of 
 your reasoning, and I have as little disposition as you have 
 to bring the war to a hasty conclusion ; but I have not 
 been, and I am not now, so sanguine of the result. Eng 
 land has not yet put forth a tithe of her strength. She 
 has undervalued the importance of the rebellion from the 
 beginning, and throughout the contest she has relied too 
 much upon Tory assistance. When her eyes are opened to 
 these faults and the wonder is they have not been opened 
 before now we shall have an army upon our shores sufli- 
 ciently powerful to make the assistance of a French force 
 very welcome, if not absolutely necessary to the accomplish 
 ment of our independence. The difference between us is, that 
 you underestimate the resources of Great Britain, and over 
 value the capacity of the colonies for resistance. Jn my 
 judgment, we shall stand in need of allies before our inde 
 pendence is acknowledged, and therefore I have been dis 
 posed to extend a cordial welcome to the French." 
 
 " It is an error, Colonel Hamilton," said Billings, em 
 phatically, "a grievous error. I give Great Britain credit 
 for vast resources, for immense energy, perseverance; and 
 
214 THE RIVALS. 
 
 skill in the art of war. I believe there is no power on the 
 globe that is able, single handed, to stand against her. I 
 have admitted that there was a time and a way in which 
 she might have reconquered these provinces. I know that 
 she can still spread desolation and ruin over every portion 
 of the land; but, believe me, Colonel Hamilton, she can 
 do no more. The people of America are now perfectly 
 united ; the few straggling Tories in British pay are too 
 insignificant to be counted ; the country is too extensive to 
 be overawed by garrison towns ; it will, therefore, require 
 as great a force to keep it as to subdue it ; and that is a 
 drain no nation can bear or will bear. Depend upon it, 
 we have nothing to fear from the success of England. Our 
 danger lies in the opposite direction ; we may triumph too 
 soon." 
 
 The strong, direct, and positive reasoning of his com 
 panion made a powerful impression on the mind of Alex 
 ander Hamilton. He turned the argument over and over 
 again in his mind, and could discover no flaw in it. It was 
 a strong case, strongly put by a strong-minded man. The 
 facts were undeniable, and the argument founded upon them 
 unanswerable. His own experience during the war had dis 
 sipated many of his previously conceived opinions of Brit 
 ish invincibility. He had seen untrained militia stand up 
 for hours against the utmost might of England s veteran 
 soldiery. True, that militia would sometimes run away when 
 there was no excuse for flight ; but they would not run far. 
 The first hill or the first wood was a rallying point. They 
 did not scatter, and desert their standards. In an incon 
 ceivably short space of time they collected together again, 
 and, perhaps the very next day, would fearlessly offer bat 
 tle to the foe before whom they had fled ; nor did it unfre- 
 quently happen, on such occasions, that they succeeded in 
 compelling that foe to retreat in turn. He had seen these 
 
THE KIVALS. 215 
 
 same men undergo hardships and privations that no regu 
 lar army could have borne without becoming thoroughly 
 demoralized, and he knew that a little more service and a 
 little more training would make them equal to the best 
 troops in the world. He was thus predisposed to give full 
 weight to the views urged by his confederate ; and after 
 events proved that he was not unmindful of the sagacious 
 though villainous counsel that night poured into his ears. 
 
 He did quarrel with General Washington upon a trivial 
 pretext, and rejected the overtures of the general to accom 
 modate the difficulty. At the same time he took care that 
 the quarrel should assume the form of a mere difference 
 upon a point of etiquette, and managed to retain the good 
 opinion of the commander-in-chief even while declining to 
 serve longer on his staff. In a private letter to General 
 Schuyler, after relating the fact of the rupture between the 
 commander-in-chief and himself, and his own refusal to 
 listen to overtures for an accommodation, he wrote, 
 
 " I must assure you, my dear sir, it was not the effect of 
 resentment ; it was the deliberate result of maxims I had 
 long formed for the government of my own conduct." 
 
 In the same letter he speaks of General Washington in 
 terms which plainly show that he was preparing the way to 
 undermine his reputation and destroy his influence. 
 
 "The general," he says, "is a very honest man. His 
 competitors have slender abilities, and less integrity. His 
 popularity has often been essential to the safety of Amer 
 ica, and is still of great importance to it. These consid 
 erations have influenced my past conduct respecting him, 
 and will influence my future. I think it necessary that he 
 should be supported." 
 
 The comments of Mr. James Billings on that letter, 
 doubtless ran in the following manner : 
 
 "The general is a very honest man. But that is all. 
 
216 THE RIVALS. 
 
 He is not at all remarkable for either natural or acquired 
 abilities. His competitors are fools and knaves. Therefore 
 it is best to keep him in command until I am in a situa 
 tion to supplant him. His popularity has helped the cause 
 of America, and may still aid it; that is, he has somehow 
 gained the confidence of the country, and, though a man 
 of no abilities, we must put up with him for the present. 
 When his popularity ceases to be useful, we will throw 
 him overboard. I think it necessary that he should be 
 supported because by maintaining his authority I keep 
 down rivalries until I am prepared to meet them. " 
 
 Considering the brevity of the foregoing extract, it 
 would-be difficult to find anything in the English language 
 to equal it in the perfection of "damning with faint praise" 
 the man to whom he owed everything up to that time, and 
 whom he was not afterwards ashamed to importune for 
 great and unmerited favors. 
 
 Nor was Hamilton s conduct toward General Washington 
 the only evidence that the words of James Billings had not 
 been permitted to fall unheeded to the ground. When 
 the Count D Estaing arrived on our coast with a powerful 
 fleet, General Washington sent Colonel Hamilton on board 
 Ms flag-ship to concert a plan of attack upon the British 
 troops stationed at Newport, in Rhode Island. On his 
 return, Billings extracted from him a full account of the 
 intended expedition. In the camp at Valley Forge he 
 had opened communications with Sir Henry Clinton, and 
 from time to time had contrived to give that officer much 
 information that tended greatly to prolong the war. His 
 absences from the camp had reference to this object. Too 
 cautious to trust a third person in the conduct of such mo 
 mentous affairs, he went himself in disgui.se to the British 
 lines whenever the object was of sufficient magnitude to 
 justify the risk. His communications had enabled Sir 
 
THE RIVALS. 217 
 
 Henry Clinton to obtain several advantages, unimportant 
 so far as they affected the general result, but calculated to 
 keep up the spirits of the English troops, and encourage 
 the ministry at home to persevere in their efforts to subdue 
 the colonies. Beyond this, James Billings had no intention 
 to go. If he had possessed the power to betray and 
 destroy the whole American army at once, all the gold of 
 England could not have bribed him to the act. Not that 
 he had one moral or patriotic scruple to restrain him ; but 
 he looked to the eventual success of the colonies as the 
 means of realizing the ambitious dreams of his earlier 
 years. Gold had no attraction for him compared with the 
 gratification of resuming his original name, gilded by titles 
 that would hide the memory of the disgrace he had brought 
 upon it. To Sir Henry Clinton he was known only as a 
 common and mercenary informer, and the British com 
 mander was sometimes startled by the profound sagacity 
 and stern energy of the man who he believed was playing 
 the dangerous part of a spy for an insignificant bribe. 
 Once or twice these evidences of superiority inclined him to 
 think that a double game was being played upon him. The 
 accuracy of the information he received, however, removed 
 his doubts, and he was left to wonder that a man so much 
 above his fellows in mental acquirements should be so far 
 sunk below them by a sordid love of money as to sell him 
 self to his country s invaders. Billings, on his part, was 
 gradually acquiring a knowledge of all Sir Henry s weak 
 points, and storing up a fund of information which he in 
 tended to turn to valuable account at a future day. Here 
 tofore he had caused the capture of a few American posts 
 and the surprise of a few detachments, well knowing that 
 it would have no permanent effect upon General Washing 
 ton s strength. 
 
 The arrival of the French fleet alarmed his fears, as we 
 19 
 
218 THE RIVALS. 
 
 have seen, and he resolved to spare no effort to insure its 
 destruction. Having obtained from Colonel Hamilton an 
 accurate account of the number and armament of the ves 
 sels, and also of the numbers and description of the land 
 forces destined to co-operate with them, he disappeared 
 from the American camp, upon the pretext of making a 
 journey to Philadelphia to collect certain moneys alleged 
 to be due him, and of which he pretended to be in great 
 need. In about two weeks he returned, and soon after 
 wards came the news of the total failure of the Rhode 
 Island expedition; Sir Henry Clinton having obtained in 
 formation from some quarter which enabled him to defeat 
 it entirely. 
 
 Colonel Hamilton was in total ignorance of his confed 
 erate s correspondence with the enemy. The experiment 
 was too hazardous, and its results too uncertain, to have 
 commanded his assent under any circumstances. Billings 
 knew that upon this point he was inflexible, and dared not 
 trust him with the slightest intimation of his own secret 
 operations. He took the whole responsibility upon him 
 self, trusting to his own matchless skill and impudence 
 to escape detection or even suspicion. While, however, 
 Colonel Hamilton would have been grievously offended and 
 indignant if advised of the part that Billings had acted, 
 the results were such as he regarded with great compla 
 cency. There is no proof that he had any agency in pro 
 moting the jealousies and heart-burnings which broke out 
 between the American and French officers immediately after 
 the failure of the Rhode Island expedition. In this matter, 
 chance may have favored him. It was natural that de 
 feated men should seek to shift the blame from themselves 
 to their allies, and he may have done no more than refrain 
 from efforts to heal a breach which gave to General Wash 
 ington the greatest concern. But if he was passive at that 
 
THE RIVALS. 219 
 
 time, he did not remain so afterwards. His jealousy of 
 French influence, and detraction of everything French, 
 grew into a mania that continued to afflict him during the 
 remainder of his life. For the present, he was relieved 
 from their association. Count D Estaing, disgusted by his 
 ill success, and exasperated by the quarrels between his 
 officers and his allies, sailed for the South, where, in con 
 junction with an American force, he made an assault on 
 Savannah, and suffered a bloody repulse. Concluding from 
 the failure of these two attempts that the Western hemi 
 sphere was not exactly the theater upon which he was best 
 calculated to shine, he turned the prows of his ships toward 
 the East, and never again honored us with his presence. 
 ^A.fter Colonel Burr s resignation, the jealousy of Ham 
 ilton slumbered for years. During a great part of the 
 time, Burr was an invalid. He never re-entered the 
 army; and as they seldom came in contact, there was 
 nothing upon which a rivalry could feed. That period of 
 his life, therefore, does not come properly within the scope 
 of this history, and must be briefly disposed of. 
 
 After his withdrawal from the staff of General Wash 
 ington, Colonel Hamilton urgently solicited a commission in 
 the line, which was for some time refused. His wishes were 
 at last complied with, and he again entered the army and 
 served throughout the war, distinguished by courage and 
 eminent ability. At the siege of Yorktown he added still 
 more to his brilliant reputation as a soldier, and stained his 
 character as a man by claiming credit for humanity at the 
 expense of both Washington and LaFayette. This claim, 
 as it afterwards appeared in a "Biography of Mr. Ham 
 ilton," is worthy of preservation, if for no other purpose 
 than to show to what a degree of baseness a man un 
 doubtedly possessed of many great qualities could descend, 
 and how reckless he was of the reputation of others when 
 
220 THE RIVALS. 
 
 his own might be enhanced by detracting from their just 
 claims to public admiration. 
 
 "Previous to the assault," says the Biography in ques 
 tion, "the Marquis de la Fayette proposed to General 
 Washington to put to death all the British troops that 
 should be found within the redoubts, as a retaliation for 
 several acts of barbarity committed by the royal army. 
 The steady and nervous mind of Washington, which was 
 never known to yield to the virtuous prejudice of compas 
 sion, gave his assent to the bloody order ; but Mr. Ham 
 ilton, (the tenderness of whose feelings has led him into 
 error,) after the redoubts were subdued, took the conquered 
 under his protection, and proved to his enemies that Amer 
 ica knew how to fight but not to murder." 
 
 With this veracious extract, we close the record of Alex 
 ander Hamilton, until we again find him the rival and the 
 unscrupulous traducer of Aaron Burr. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 " The wilder passions work their own decay, 
 While gentle love woos kindred love to stay." 
 
 STRETCHED upon a sick couch, Aaron Burr had ample 
 leisure to reflect upon the past and the future. His affec 
 tions crushed, his constitution shattered, his fortune gone, 
 and his hopes of military preferment at an end, what was 
 there to save him from the numbing effects of despair? 
 Nothing but the inborn energy of a soul that no human 
 calamity could subdue. Weary months rolled away, and 
 the invalid began slowly to regain a portion of his 
 strength. He had so far recovered as to be able to take 
 exercise on horseback, when, in the summer of 1780, he 
 returned to his native State of New Jersey, in the hope 
 that its old remembered scenes would help to invigorate 
 his frame and bring back the pulses of health. Here he 
 became intimate with the family of Mrs. Theodosia Pre- 
 vost, the widow of Colonel Prevost of the British army, 
 who had died some years before, while serving in the West 
 Indies. 
 
 At the beginning of the revolutionary war Mrs. Prevost 
 was residing at Paramus, in New Jersey, with her two lit 
 tle sons and a younger sister, Miss De Yisme. Her hus 
 band was then living, and serving in the British army, and 
 it might have been supposed that his high rank would 
 have made her peculiarly the object of suspicion in times 
 when suspicion was a virtue ; but the perfect propriety of 
 Mrs. Prevost s conduct not only preserved her from moles- 
 
 19* (221) 
 
222 THE RIVALS. 
 
 tation or annoyance, but made her house the favorite resort 
 of the American officers who happened to be stationed in 
 the neighborhood. Colonel James Monroe, afterwards 
 President of the United States, was among her warmest 
 friends and admirers. At what time Colonel Burr formed 
 her acquaintance is uncertain. It is probable that it was 
 in the year 1777, when he marched from the Ramapo to 
 Paramus to repel a British incursion from New York. 
 He is only known to have visited her twice during his 
 command of the Westchester lines. Miss De Yisme was 
 then, and long afterwards, supposed to be the attraction 
 which drew him to her dwelling. In the letters of his 
 friends, addressed to him at different times, while Mrs. 
 Prevost was always mentioned in terms of high regard, 
 there is no intimation of the least suspicion that he could 
 contemplate matrimony with her. All their allusions of 
 this nature are to her young sister. Mrs. Prevost was, at 
 least, ten years his senior ; she had two children ; she never 
 had been beautiful, and was disfigured by a slight scar 
 across the forehead. She had no fortune to compensate 
 for these disadvantages, and no one supposed that a young 
 man whose position and connections entitled him to seek 
 the alliance of any family in the colonies could contem 
 plate a marriage which, to others, seemed so unsuitable and 
 impolitic. They little knew the motives which actuated 
 him. Close in his own bosom was hidden the memory of 
 his early love. General Putnam was his only confidant, 
 and he alone might have formed a reasonable conjecture as 
 to the moving springs of his conduct. His dreams of rap 
 ture were over. In looking around for a wife, love never 
 entered into his calculations. That he knew he would 
 never feel again. He sought, rather, an intelligent friend, 
 in whose society his life might glide peacefully and tran 
 quilly along, undisturbed by petty bickerings and unembit- 
 
THE RIVALS. 223 
 
 tered by passionate exactions that he knew himself unable 
 to. satisfy. In Mrs. Prevost these requisites were combined 
 in a remarkable degree. Although neither young nor beau 
 tiful, she was intelligent and refined. Well versed in the 
 literature of her own and other lands, her conversation 
 was always instructive; and her criticisms, regulated by 
 sound judgment and discriminating taste, never failed to 
 give her hearers a more correct appreciation of the merits 
 of the volume or the author under discussion. Her edu 
 cation was such as could not be acquired in America at 
 that day ; and her associations, previous and subsequent to 
 her marriage with Colonel Prevost, had been with the most 
 intelligent and refined portions of English society. To 
 these were added a sweetness of temper and a fascination 
 of manner never surpassed. Colonel Burr, who was him- 
 self remarkable for the graceful ease of his deportment, 
 often declared that he was indebted to her for all his 
 superiority to other men in that respect. Such a woman 
 .was precisely the companion he sought. He made no 
 avowals of passion. His courtship was conducted upon 
 pure and unmixed principles of respect and esteem. Sen 
 timent was a forbidden luxury, and their whole intercourse 
 was such as might have been expected between friends of 
 the same sex. Much of the time passed in her society was 
 devoted to the study of the French language, in which she 
 was a proficient, and of which he knew but little; and at 
 such times the lover was completely merged in the pupil. 
 At other times he would read to her long passages from his 
 favorite authors, to elicit her comments, which he combated 
 earnestly when they differed from his own preconceived 
 opinions ; though the discussion generally ended by his 
 acknowledging the superiority of her taste, and the cor 
 rectness of her appreciation of the beauties or the faults 
 she pointed out. With them there were no moonlight 
 
224 THE RIVALS. 
 
 rambles, no long communings in leafy bowers, where sighs 
 become a language and silence itself is eloquence. Their 
 walks and rides were regulated by a matter-of-fact regard 
 for health ; and if they talked of the moon and stars at all, 
 it was to discuss the discoveries of different astronomers, 
 and compare their relative merits. It was, in short, the 
 purely intellectual intercourse of gifted and cultivated 
 minds; pleasing to both, instructive to both, and unalloyed 
 by fiery passions in either. It did not interfere in the 
 slightest degree with the plans he was forming for begin 
 ning a new career in life, and neither hastened nor retarded 
 his efforts. These plans were submitted to her as a matter 
 of course, and met her cordial approval. 
 
 His reckless generosity had made such inroads upon his 
 fortune, that barely enough remained to enable him to 
 acquire a profession in which his exertions would suffice 
 for a support. He had no time to lose, and as soon as his 
 health permitted, he entered the office of Judge Patterson, 
 of New Jersey, as a student of law. The regular, methodi 
 cal mode of instruction adopted by the judge did not accord 
 with Colonel Burr s anxiety to hurry into the practice of 
 his profession; and in the spring of 1781 he left him to 
 reside at Haverstraw, in the family of Thomas Smith, an 
 eminent practitioner of New York. Here he devoted him 
 self to study with an assiduity that few men ever brought 
 to bear upon the dry details of that uninteresting science. 
 It was not an unusual occurrence for him to pass twenty 
 of the twenty-four hours among his books, noting down the 
 doubtful and obscure points, and the next day submitting 
 them to his instructor for solution. His close application 
 to the law did not prevent him from writing regularly to 
 Mrs. Prevost. Their letters, like their conversation, were 
 entirely devoid of those soft extravagancies which give 
 such a charm to the correspondence of acknowledged 
 
THE RIVALS. 225 
 
 lovers. They were full of keen criticisms of Yoltaire, 
 Chesterfield, Kousseau, and other eminent writers; but 
 they contained no burning avowals of aifection ; none of 
 the gushing tenderness that sounds so sweetly in the ear 
 of beauty and comes so naturally from a heart that is full 
 of the gladness of requited love. Some tenderness there 
 certainly was, but it was the tenderness of friendship; 
 beyond that, their correspondence was a communion of the 
 intellect alone, and it was so understood by both. 
 
 After six months of incessant application, Colonel Burr 
 repaired to Albany, to apply for admission to the bar. 
 Here he was encountered by a difficulty which, to a man 
 less fruitful in resources, would have proved insurmount 
 able. He was informed that a rule of the court required 
 candidates for admission to have passed three years in the 
 study of the profession before examination. To this he 
 answered, that he had begun to read law before the Revo 
 lution; that he had abandoned his books to take up the 
 sword in his country s defense ; that when ill health drove 
 him from the military service, he had resumed his studies ; 
 that the rule did not require a continuous application ; and 
 that in point of fact it was more than six years since his 
 legal reading actually commenced. His arguments did not 
 satisfy the members of the bar; but, resolving not to be 
 thwarted, he turned his attention to the presiding judge. 
 To him he repeated all that had proved unavailing with 
 others, and added that it was an extreme ha,rdship to 
 deprive a man of privileges he had only lost through devo 
 tion to his country, besides being an example that must 
 work injury to the public service. The judge was so far 
 influenced by his persuasions that he agreed he might 
 make a motion for his own admission, and if, on examina 
 tion, it appeared that he was otherwise qualified, the rule 
 should be set aside in his behalf. The motion was made. 
 
226 THE RIVALS. 
 
 He passed triumphantly through a severe and prolonged 
 examination, and in January, 1782, was licensed as an 
 attorney. 
 
 Thus, at the age of twenty-six, he entered upon a new field 
 of action, demanding totally different habits, and calling into 
 play totally different qualities than those through the exercise 
 of which he had heretofore won distinction and renown. In 
 other respects, however, his debut was made under circum 
 stances more favorable than usually attend the young prac 
 titioner. The legal disqualification of the Tory lawyers 
 had so thinned the profession as to make competition 
 merely nominal. He had a wide reputation as a patriot 
 soldier, and an extensive acquaintance with that class of 
 men most certain to be useful to a professional man. The 
 interruptions and delays incident to the war had caused 
 an immense accumulation of business, and almost from the 
 very first his practice was large and exceedingly lucrative. 
 As a practitioner he never had a superior. There were 
 others more profoundly read in the law; there were others 
 more eloquent and more imposing in their address; but 
 in the skillful management of a cause, in careful prepara 
 tion beforehand, in the readiness with which he seized 
 upon every advantage against an adversary, and the con 
 summate tact with which he guarded every weak point on 
 his own side, he was without an equal and without a rival. 
 Throughout his long practice he never lost a case in which 
 he had been consulted before the suit was instituted. His 
 soldier life had taught him the advantages of watchfulness, 
 and no adversary ever took him by surprise. 
 
 Soon after obtaining his license, Colonel Burr opened 
 an office in Albany, and the first few months of his prac 
 tice were so satisfactory that he determined upon con 
 summating his marriage with Mrs. Prevost without delay. 
 The arrangements were all made by letter. The style of 
 
THE RIVALS. 227 
 
 that correspondence had nothing in it to recommend it to 
 a love-sick couple of the present day, or of that day either. 
 Everything was written in a matter-of-fact, business-like 
 way, that was horridly unromantic. Generally he assumed 
 the positive and decided tone of the husband never that 
 of the yielding and complaisant lover. At one time he 
 tells her to "deal less in sentiment, and more in ideas." 
 He complains that her letters are too long. Again he 
 says, "don t torment me with compliments." Another 
 letter is devoted to a dissertation on the advantages of a 
 Franklin stove, and he goes on to suggest the room in 
 which she should place it. There were no raptures none 
 of the fond and endearing expressions so natural and so 
 becoming in two persons who are about to commit to each 
 other s keeping the holiest of earthly trusts. Both had 
 loved once, and both had indulged in all the extravagance 
 to which it gives birth. They knew that such love never 
 comes again. Like the bloom on the peach, it will bear 
 no second handling. Dismissing, therefore, all expectation 
 of joys they knew were beyond their reach, they had calmly 
 and deliberately concluded that the happiness, the tran 
 quillity, and the intellectual pleasures of each, would be 
 promoted by their union ; and they walked to the marriage 
 altar under the guidance of an enlightened self-interest, 
 which, after all, is perhaps the surest guaranty of a peace 
 ful and contented life. On the 2d of July, 1782, they were 
 united in marriage by the Rev. David Bogart, of the Re 
 formed Dutch Church. As a woman of the world, and 
 the mistress of aa establishment, Mrs. Burr was unrivaled, 
 and their house soon became noted for its profuse arid 
 elegant hospitality. 
 
 Colonel Burr continued to reside at Albany until the 
 treaty which acknowledged the independence of the United 
 States was signed, and it was there that his only child, 
 
228 THE KIVALS. 
 
 Theodosia, was born. With the birth of that child an 
 entire change came over the man. Upon her he lavished 
 all the overflowing fondness of his nature. The passion 
 ate tenderness which had been so long pent up in his bo 
 som showered itself upon the rosy-cheeked child, and the 
 babe became to him an idol, in its cradle. Its mother, too, 
 shared in the newly-awakened sentiment. From that day 
 he became a lover. His letters, when absent from home, 
 were more thickly interspersed with words of endearment, 
 and he no longer checked her most loving expressions. 
 Eight years after marriage, her letters and his replies are 
 full of a warm and glowing affection, to which they were 
 strangers in the days of their courtship. In reply to one 
 of his letters, she says : " Your letters always afford me a 
 singular satisfaction ; a sensation entirely my own; this was 
 peculiarly so. My Aaron, it was replete with tenderness. 
 I read and re-read, till afraid I should get it by rote, and 
 mingle it with common ideas. Profane the sacred pledge ! 
 No, it shall not be. I will economize the boon." 
 
 In acknowledging the receipt of another letter, she 
 writes: "What language can express the joy, the grati 
 tude of Theodosia ?******* Her Aaron safe ; 
 mistress of the heart she adores; can she ask more ? has 
 Heaven more to grant ?" 
 
 Before marriage he had warned her not to deal in senti 
 ment; now his soul was athirst for sentiment. "This 
 morning," he writes on one occasion, "this morning came 
 your kind, your affectionate, your truly welcome letter of 
 Monday evening. Where did it loiter so long ?" 
 
 Again he writes: "I continually plan my return with 
 childish impatience, and fancy a thousand incidents which 
 render it more interesting." 
 
 In another letter, he says: "Be assured (I hope the 
 
THE RIVALS. 229 
 
 assurance is needless) that whatever diminishes your hap 
 piness equally impairs mine." 
 
 Before this time he had removed his office to the City of 
 New York, and established his residence at Richmond Hill, 
 which had been the headquarters of General Washington 
 during the early part of the revolutionary war. His repu 
 tation as a lawyer had preceded him, and he was at once 
 immersed in business. No engagement, however, was ever 
 permitted to interfere with his duties as a husband and a 
 father. No cares or anxieties ever came near the Eden of 
 his home. The two sons of his wife, by her former hus 
 band, were considered and treated as his own; and as soon 
 as the little Theodosia could utter a syllable, her education 
 commenced. Courage, fortitude, self-reliance, and energy 
 were instilled into her mind, and formed a part of her char 
 acter before she knew the meaning of the words. His 
 letters to his daughter, as she grew older, impress the re 
 ligious reader with the conviction that he laid too much 
 stress upon intellectual culture, and far too little upon that 
 moral training without which intellect becomes a curse. 
 Happily for her she had a mother who, to rare good sense 
 added the merit of genuine piety ; and, while the father be 
 stowed his whole attention upon the head, she planted seeds 
 in the heart, which, in good time, brought forth fruits of 
 unsurpassed purity and sweetness. But whatever may have 
 been the errors that developed themselves in the progress 
 of Colonel Burr s system of education, he began right. 
 He made the practice of virtue easy, by implanting in the 
 character those qualities which enable us to reject, at will, 
 whatever is vicious or hurtful. His daughter grew to 
 womanhood a model that the best of her sex might study 
 with advantage. 
 
 Colonel Burr s income from his practice was such as to 
 enable him to indulge to his heart s content the boundless 
 
 20 
 
230 THE EIVALS. 
 
 hospitality in which he delighted. The troubles in France 
 had driven many of her distinguished citizens into exile ; 
 and, entertaining a grateful sense of the services rendered 
 to us by the French people during our revolutionary strug 
 gle, he extended to them a cordial invitation to make his 
 mansion their home. Talleyrand, Volney, Louis Philippe, 
 and others were his guests. In his family they enjoyed the 
 satisfaction of meeting persons who could converse in their 
 own tongue, thus relieving them from the awkwardness of 
 broken English, and making them feel more completely at 
 home. The little Theodosia became the pet of the man 
 who afterwards, as the minister of Napoleon, swayed the 
 destinies of the world. Volney forgot to meditate upon 
 the ruins of empires, when he twined her silken tresses 
 around his finger ; and Louis Philippe ceased to sigh over 
 the ruined fortunes of his family, or to pant for the throne 
 he was destined to fill, when she climbed with childish 
 familiarity upon his knee, and her joyous smile fell like a 
 sunbeam upon him. 
 
 Dispensing a princely hospitality, surrounded by a loved 
 and loving family, together with a wide circle of devoted 
 friends, blessed in all his relations, the life of Colonel Burr 
 at this period presented a picture of enviable happiness, 
 far beyond the common lot of humanity. Thus far he had 
 avoided the maelstrom of politics. Once or twice he had 
 been elected to the General Assembly of the State, but he 
 + ok so little interest in its proceedings, and appeared to 
 be so wholly unambitious of political distinction, that the 
 impression very generally prevailed that he was unfitted to 
 shine in parliamentary discussions. He would at any time 
 desert the legislative hall for the court of justice, and 
 leave the interests of the State to other hands while he was 
 pleading the cause of a client. This inactivity and careless 
 inattention in a man so remarkable for restless energy in 
 
THE RIVALS. 231 
 
 whatever he undertook, was attributable to two causes. In 
 the first place, all the time he could, or rather would, spare 
 from his domestic enjoyments was absorbed by his profes 
 sional engagements. In the second place, there was no 
 theater then open for a man conscious of high capacity 
 and unfailing resources. The United States were lingering 
 out a sickly existence under the old Articles of Confedera 
 tion. There was no national power; no national center; 
 no enduring bond of Union; no broad and expansive na 
 tional policy, in the development of which a genuine states 
 man could make a name for his country and win immor 
 tality for himself. Sovereignty was distributed among thir 
 teen independent States, who had no common head each 
 one of which imagined that its interests were limited by its 
 State lines, and all of which looked upon their sister States 
 in the light of commercial, rivals, whose prosperity was just 
 that much subtracted from their own wealth and import 
 ance. The admiration of foreign powers for the noble 
 struggle that established our independence was fast chang 
 ing into contempt for the imbecility that characterized our 
 attempts at self-government, and tyrants were congratulat 
 ing themselves that a new argument was about to be fur 
 nished to the world in support of the inborn right of kings 
 to trample upon the necks of their fellow-men. 
 
 During the whole of this gloomy period Aaron Burr 
 confined himself exclusively to the law. He took no part 
 in the public discussions which grew out of the bickerings 
 among the States. He attended none of the public m_i- 
 ings which were called to decide upon the right of ^one 
 State to pass navigation laws, or of another to tax the 
 commerce of her sister States, or of another to raise and 
 keep up a standing army, or of another to carry on war 
 upon its own responsibility. With all such questions he 
 was thoroughly disgusted, and he kept entirely aloof from 
 
232 THE RIVALS. 
 
 the places where they were discussed. The court-house 
 was his theater, and it is upon the records of the courts 
 alone that his name appears. Happy would it have been 
 for him if he had maintained throughout life the same 
 indifference to political honors, and the same disgust of 
 political wrangles 1 
 
CHAPTER XY. 
 
 "Strange partings hath this world; and yet 
 Stranger meetings." 
 
 DURING the period referred to in the last chapter, one 
 evening as Colonel Burr was about closing his office to 
 repair to his residence at Richmond Hill, he was accosted 
 by a shabbily-dressed man, who inquired if his name was 
 Burr. Upon receiving an affirmative answer, he said that 
 he had called to see him on business of urgent importance, 
 and asked permission to close the door. 
 
 " I never attend to business at this hour," replied Colonel 
 Burr. "It is the time at which I always return to my 
 family. You must call again to-morrow." 
 
 "I may not be able to call to-morrow, and my mission 
 must be discharged now." 
 
 At the same time he raised a broad slouched hat from 
 his head, and exhibited a strongly-marked countenance, 
 rendered still more striking by a deep scar from the left 
 eye to the right cheek. 
 
 "Do you know me ?" he asked, after allowing Colonel 
 Burr a short time to peruse his features. 
 
 "Yours is not a face to be easily forgotten," was the 
 reply, "even if I had less cause to remember it. Your 
 name is Jenkins ; and it was at your cabin, in the High 
 lands, that I was sheltered in times less peaceful than 
 these." 
 
 "Your memory is a good one almost as good as if you 
 had some cause to hate me. Do you recollect also the 
 man who brought you there ?" 
 
 13* C233) 
 
2M THE RIVALS. 
 
 "Alexis Durand my preserver? Assuredly 1 do." 
 
 Ah ! 1 see he knew you better than I did. I thought 
 you were like the world in general, and in your prosperity 
 would forget, or scorn to recognize, two poor Tories who 
 had helped you at a pinch. He said no. He was right 
 and I was wrong." 
 
 "Did he send you here?" 
 
 "He did; and here is a token that he said you would 
 remember," replied Jenkins, at the same time extending 
 the large seal ring which Colonel Burr had presented to 
 Durand when they parted in 1779. "He is in trouble," 
 continued Jenkins, "and it is on his business that I wish to 
 talk with you. " 
 
 "This must be attended to," said Burr, after assuring 
 himself that the ring was the same. " Sit down and wait 
 a minute." 
 
 Colonel Burr walked to the door and soon returned with 
 a messenger, to whom he delivered a hasty note to his 
 wife ; then, locking the door, he said briefly, 
 
 "Now, Mr. Jenkins, what can I do for Durand?" 
 
 "He wants to see you himself." 
 
 " Then why did he not come with you ?" 
 
 "Because he is locked up between four stone walls, with 
 a pair of iron bracelets on his wrists, and another on his 
 ankles." 
 
 "In prison! For what?" 
 
 "For what he is as innocent of as you are. For 
 murder." 
 
 "For murder! How do you know he is innocent, Jen 
 kins ? It was said, in days gone by, that he valued human 
 life at a cheap rate, and those who remember him then will 
 believe the present charge on slender proof." 
 
 " That is the worst of it, sir. No one can deny that his 
 hand is redder than it is prudent to talk about now, and 
 
THE RIVALS. 235 
 
 though he has been pardoned for that, the men who are to 
 try him may hang him upon the old account, when he is 
 innocent of the new offense; for he is innocent, sir; 
 though you must learn the rest from him. I can tell 
 you no more." 
 
 "Let us go to him then. I must see him at once." 
 
 "I am sorry to let you go alone, colonel, but it is not 
 safe for me to be seen too often near the city prison. I 
 risked it once to-day on Durand s account, but 1 do not 
 care to risk it again. The fact is, I am not on the best 
 terms with the officers of the law, and do not care to 
 encounter them unnecessarily." 
 
 "I understand ; but I may need you, and I wish to know 
 where you are to be found." 
 
 "That is uncertain. I will come to your house to-mor 
 row night at ten o clock, if that will suit you ; and if you 
 think then that you will have any farther business with me, 
 I will leave an address which will enable you to find me at 
 pleasure." 
 
 After a moment s thought, Burr replied : " That will 
 do. Here," he continued, extending a handful of gold to 
 Jenkins, "take this and provide yourself with a better suit 
 of clothes." 
 
 Jenkins took the money reluctantly, saying, "Necessity, 
 colonel, knows no law. I ought not to take this money, 
 but I cannot serve you as you will expect unless I do ; 
 and, besides, as it will be necessary for me to keep very 
 quiet for a time, I may need it for bread." 
 
 "Keep it, man, without scruple. The shelter of your 
 roof was once worth more than a hundred times the sum 
 to me. I am still largely in your debt." 
 
 When Jenkins departed, Colonel Burr locked his office 
 and walked directly to the city prison. It was past the 
 usual hour for the admission of visitors, but the jailer 
 
236 THE RIVALS. 
 
 abated his rule in favor of a practitioner of such well- 
 known eminence, and conducted him to the cell of Alexis 
 Durand. 
 
 "I am sorry to see you in this plight," said Burr, taking 
 the manacled hand of the prisoner. "I hope you have 
 done nothing to deserve it." 
 
 "It is very kind of you, colonel," replied Durand, in 
 closing the hand of his visitor in a grasp as hard as the 
 iron which fettered his own. " It is very kind of you to 
 come within these gloomy walls to comfort a friendless 
 man;, but I always said that you had the best heart 
 of any man who ever served in George Washington s 
 army. " 
 
 " Thank you for your good opinion. Jenkins informed 
 me th t you were arrested on a charge of murder, of which, 
 he insists, you are innocent. In that case I want you to 
 begin at the beginning and tell me everything, omitting 
 nothing because it may seem unimportant to you. I must 
 judge of that, and, to judge correctly, I must know the 
 whol- " 
 
 "V ell, sir, after I had put you in the Middlebrook road, 
 I went back to my comrades and served the king faithfully 
 until -ie end of the war. I had been too active a foe to 
 hope 4 br speedy forgiveness ; and Jenkins was more obnox 
 ious to the victorious Whigs than I was, for he had plun 
 dered, burned, and hung without mercy, whereas I had 
 only killed in open fight. Both, however, were in peril, 
 and we agreed to repair to New York, enlist in the British 
 army, and go with it to Europe. Unfortunately, we arrived 
 too late. They had been gone three days when we reached 
 here. There was no alternative but to make our way back 
 to the Highlands, where we lay hid for months, sometimes 
 sleeping in Jenkins s cabin, and sometimes in the hollows 
 and lonely glens, with which we were well acquainted. 
 
THE RIVALS. 237 
 
 Occasionally we would venture down to the houses of 
 known Tories, who lived unmolested in the country because 
 they had not taken up arras during the war, and from them 
 we obtained clothing and provisions. In this way months 
 went over. Our fears had subsided to some extent, and 
 we now lived constantly in the cabin, trusting to its remote 
 situation to escape observation ; or, if that failed, to our 
 own watchfulness to guard against surprise. One night 
 we were alarmed by the barking of the dogs, and had 
 barely time to escape to the bushes before the house was 
 surrounded by armed men, who, finding that the inmates 
 had fled, first stripped it of everything it contained and 
 then burned it to the ground. I was hid behind the rocks 
 within one hundred yards of the spot ; my rifle was in my 
 hand ; their forms were distinctly marked against th( ; blaz 
 ing fire and yet I did not shoot. There was a time when 
 all of them would not have left that burning pile alive. It 
 was a sore temptation, but I let them escape, because I 
 had hopes of being permitted to live in peace in th , pur 
 suit of some honest calling, and I did not wish to incur 
 other disabilities than those which were already hp ging 
 over me. I do not know who was the prime mover -n the 
 business, though I have latterly suspected the ma^ who 
 will appear as the principal witness against nie." 
 
 "What was his name ?" asked Colonel Burr, for the first 
 time interrupting the speaker. 
 
 "John Roberts. I have no proof against him, and 
 therefore I have twice kept Bill Jenkins s knife from his 
 throat. He had been a Tory, but took time by the fore 
 lock, and made his peace with General McDougall before 
 the troubles were over." 
 
 "When was that?" 
 
 "About the last of 1780. He was a Westchester man." 
 
 "I remember him. Go on." 
 
238 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "He knew that Jenkins and I had both saved some 
 mon-ey. He knew that we would not keep it in the cabin, 
 or in any other place where it could be easily found. He 
 pretended great friendship for us, and several times sold us 
 provisions. * If we were captured, he probably thought he 
 could obtain our secret from us, pocket the money, and 
 leave us to hang. This, though, is suspicion only. I have 
 no proof, as I said before." 
 
 Colonel Burr made a memorandum in his pocket-book, 
 and again requested Durand to proceed. 
 
 " We remained in the mountains two days, then dug up 
 our money and walked to this city, where we had few 
 acquaintances, and where we thought we would be lost in 
 the crowd of strangers who were flocking here. We took 
 lodgings in a cheap boarding-house close to the water s 
 edge, and in the course of a month I bought a wherry 
 and began the trade of a waterman. Jenkins at first 
 worked with me, and we did very well. At last he became 
 acquainted with a gang of desperate men, and took to 
 worse courses. He changed his boarding-house, and left 
 me. I continued at the business, saving a little each 
 month, and gradually growing contented with my lot. In 
 the mean time I had obtained a pardon for the part I had 
 taken in the war, and had no cause for uneasiness, except 
 on Jenkins s account. His murdered wife was my sister, 
 and from that fatal hour I had clung to him as brother 
 rarely cleaves to brother. I hunted him up, and tried to 
 drag him from the dens of infamy he frequented. He 
 would not hear me. I then learned that John Roberts 
 had also come to New York, and was one of his associates, 
 though Bill seemed to have an instinctive hatred of the 
 man. I don t know what made him suspect him, but lie 
 came to me one day and said that Roberts was the man 
 who brought upon us the party who burned our cabin, and 
 
THE RIVALS. 239 
 
 that he intended to kill him for it. It took long and urgent 
 persuasion to induce him to abandon his intention. At 
 another time he came to me and said that Roberts must 
 not live. Again I interposed and saved him. This brings 
 me down to the time of the murder; and here I suppose 
 you wish me to be more particular." 
 
 "Tell it exactly in your own way, and give me your 
 observations precisely as they occurred to you at the time 
 and since. Omit nothing." 
 
 " I lodged in the house of a German, whose name was 
 Franz Klink. It was a two-story house fronting the water, 
 with two rooms below and two above. In the front room 
 below he sold vegetables and groceries of the various kinds 
 used by sailors. The back room was his eating-room, and 
 back of that again was a shed-room, used as a kitchen. He 
 slept in the front room up stairs, and I in the rear. The 
 woman who cooked for us always went home to sleep. 
 There was no other person about the house, which was 
 seldom kept open later than nine o clock at night. When 
 it was necessary for me to be out later than that hour, he 
 gave me the key of the shed-room, and I entered through 
 the back yard, which was also used as a lumber yard. Just 
 one week ago John Roberts came to see me. It was not 
 dark, though I was lying down, for I had been hard at 
 work, and was very tired. He told me that a man had 
 been knocked down and robbed the night before ; that Bill 
 Jenkins was suspected, and that, in consequence, he was 
 lying hid in a house he mentioned, in another part of the 
 city. He said that Bill had sent him for me, and men 
 tioned ten o clock as the hour at which he would expect 
 me. Before I had time to question him further, Franz 
 came up with a light, and, saying that supper was ready, 
 invited Roberts to join us. He declined, and added that 
 he would wait there until I had finished my meal. When 
 
240 THE RIVALS. 
 
 I came back, he was lying carelessly across the foot of my 
 bed. I suggested to him that it was unnecessary to wait 
 until ten o clock, and proposed that we should go and see 
 Jenkins together. He replied that he had some business 
 which he must attend to before that hour; moreover, that 
 it would be useless to go sooner, because there would be a 
 number of loungers about the premises, and the landlord 
 would not admit me to the private part of the house. Then, 
 giving me a password, and directions how to find the house, 
 he took his hat to go. I went down stairs with him, and, 
 having still several hours on my hands, I took a seat on the 
 counter and entered into conversation with Franz. Cus 
 tomers were coming in, making small purchases, and going 
 out. Some of these I knew, and talked to them about the 
 news of the day and other indifferent matters. Toward 
 ten o clock, I told Franz that I was going out, and, borrow 
 ing a stout club that he usually kept behind the counter, I 
 took the key of the back shed and left the house. As I 
 did so, a man with the collar of his coat turned up, and 
 buttoned close about his ears, walked quickly by me. From 
 his form and gait, I took him to be Roberts and called him 
 by name. He did not answer, and, supposing that I was 
 mistaken, I walked on. It took me some time, wandering 
 about in a filthy, suspicious locality, to find the house to 
 which I had been directed. Upon knocking at the door, 
 and giving the password, I was admitted to a room in 
 which there were four or five men and as many women, 
 evidently of the worst description, some of whom were 
 smoking and others drinking ale. Not perceiving Jenkins 
 among them, I took the landlord aside and inquired where 
 he was. He replied that he had gone out about- an hour 
 before, and left word that if any one called for him, he 
 must wait until his return. When this reply was made, I 
 knew that the man was lying, or that Roberts had lied. 
 
THE RIVALS. 241 
 
 One or the other was certain, for I could not be persuaded 
 that Bill Jenkins would leave the house, after sending for 
 me, before I came. Nevertheless, as I did not know what 
 else to do, I concluded to wait, and, calling for a cracker 
 and a mug of ale, I made myself apparently at home, pay 
 ing no attention to the scrutinizing glances with which I was 
 conscious the other inmates of the room were regarding me. 
 "I had no means of ascertaining the exact time, but I 
 arn satisfied it was after eleven o clock when I rose, and, 
 saying that I could wait no longer, paid my score and 
 prepared to depart. The landlord urged me to stay, in 
 sisting that Jenkins would certainly be back in half an 
 hour. I cared nothing for the half hour, and would have 
 waited cheerfully, if I had not been sure he was deceiving 
 me. In such cases it is always the safest plan to do 
 directly the reverse of what the deceiver wishes. He 
 wanted me to stay for some purpose of his own, and for 
 that very reason I determined not to stay. I had an 
 undefined apprehension that mischief was afoot, and re 
 turned rapidly to my lodging. On approaching the house 
 through the back alley, I observed that my window was 
 up. It had no shutter, and was fastened by a large nail 
 driven above it. I remembered to have seen the nail in 
 its place that day at dinner time. Against the shed-room 
 I have described there was a pile of lumber reaching 
 nearly to the roof. Upon that roof my window opened, 
 and by climbing on the lumber it could be easily reached. 
 Thinking that there might be thieves within, I climbed up 
 to the window and listened. Everything was still. At 
 length I heard what I thought was a faint groan in the 
 other cpom. I entered, and striking a light went into the 
 bedroom of Franz. He was lying on the floor, in his night- 
 clothes, dead. The groan I had heard no doubt was his 
 last gasp. A large stream of blood ran from the body, 
 
 21 
 
242 TUE RIVALS. 
 
 and was trickling slowly down the stairway. I knelt down 
 by his side to feel his pulse, when I discovered that, besides 
 a deep wound in his side, his skull was broken. To be 
 certain that the murderers were not still concealed in the 
 house, I went to search the lower rooms. I found them in 
 their usual state, except that the money-drawer was broken 
 open and its contents abstracted. I returned to the room 
 where the dead man was lying, and looked around for some 
 trace of the murderer. At this time I heard a knocking 
 at the front door, and, in the agitation of the moment, let 
 the candle fall. I have seen blood shed in many \vays. I 
 have slept among the dead upon the battle-field as soundly 
 as a king in his palace, and I would not have believed that 
 these strong nerves could be so shaken by the sight of one 
 pale corpse and one purple stream. It was over in a 
 moment, and I snatched up the candle to relight it. It 
 was too late. The door was broken open, and two men 
 with lanterns rushed in. At the same time two more 
 appeared at the still open window. To their eager ques 
 tions of who did the deed, I could only answer I did not 
 know. My statement went for nothing, and I was hurried 
 off to prison as the murderer. If I had been, colonel, 
 those four men would never have dragged me ten steps 
 from the door of that house. I could have crushed every 
 bone in all of them ; and, if I had been guilty, I would have 
 done so. But I knew I was innocent, and did not choose 
 to make evidence against myself by resistance. 
 
 " The next day, when I was allowed to tell my story, I 
 was afraid of implicating Jenkins, and said nothing about 
 the cause which took me out, merely relating what occurred 
 after I discovered the window open. I understand that 
 Roberts swore, before the coroner, that he called on me 
 that night to claim the payment of a sum of money I owed 
 him, and that I put it off, promising to pay on the morrow 
 
THE RIVALS. 243 
 
 He swore that he met me that night armed with a heavy 
 club, and having my coat collar turned up, so as to hide 
 my face ; that he spoke to me, and I did not answer ; that 
 his suspicions were excited, and he followed me cautiously; 
 that he saw me enter the back yard and climb in at the 
 window; that he first supposed I had been out for some 
 purpose which I desired to hide from Franz, and had there 
 fore adopted this mode of entrance ; that he was about 
 going away when he heard a blow and a heavy fall ; that 
 he then became alarmed and ran off for a watchman, who 
 called two others to his assistance, and they proceeded 
 together to the house; that on observing the light, they 
 divided, Roberts and another going into the back yard to 
 prevent escape; that I extinguished the light at the first 
 sound of knocking on the front door ; that on entering the 
 house, they found just such a club as he had seen me carry 
 ing, lying by the dead man s side all covered with blood; 
 that my knife, bloody from point to hilt, was discovered on 
 the mantle-piece in my room ; that my clothes and hands 
 were bloody, and that there were marks of bloody fingers 
 on the money drawer. Upon searching my person they 
 found the key of the shed-room in my pocket, and in my 
 chest a quantity of small change, such as Franz would be 
 likely to receive from his customers. A good deal of this 
 was true, and was corroborated by others. All that was 
 true I could easily explain, but I had no proof to sustain 
 my statement. The money was mine. It had been paid 
 to me for boat fare, and was therefore mostly in small 
 change. The club I had dropped in the pool of blood 
 when I knelt down by the body to ascertain if life was 
 extinct; My hands and clothes were bloodied at the same 
 time. In examining the drawer to see what had been taken 
 out, I had no doubt left the prints of my fingers upon it. 
 The knife was a large hunting-knife I had worn during 
 
244 THE RIVALS. 
 
 the war, and had been lying upon the mantle-piece for 
 months." 
 
 "Have you no suspicion," asked Burr, "who it was that 
 committed the murder?" 
 
 "I know who did it, colonel, as well as if I had seen the 
 blow struck ; but I can prove nothing, and it will do me 
 no good." 
 
 "You may be mistaken. At all events tell me who you 
 suspect ?" 
 
 "John Roberts. Bill Jenkins had not seen him for days, 
 and did not send him for me. He had planned the robbery 
 before he came, and his visit had a double object; first, to 
 get me out of the way, for he well knew that it was not the 
 safest thing in the world to enter a house where I was 
 sleeping, for any such purpose. His other object was to 
 survey the premises. When I went down to supper, he 
 removed the nail from the window and put my knife in his 
 bosom. He then loitered about in the neighborhood until 
 he saw me depart. The landlord of the house to which 
 he sent me was unquestionably his confederate, and had 
 instructions to detain me as long as he could. It was 
 possible he might fail in this, and therefore it was import 
 ant for Roberts to accomplish his purpose quickly. My 
 opinion is, that he made his entrance a little too soon; that 
 his fears of my return hurried him, and he did not wait until 
 Franz was sound asleep. I am not sure that he meant to 
 commit murder if he could avoid it, but he went prepared 
 for it. He may only have meant to creep through the room, 
 go down the stairs, rob the house, and pass out of the front 
 door into the street. He must have made some noise, and 
 when Franz jumped up to ascertain the cause, he felled 
 him with a bludgeon and stabbed him after he was down. 
 After that, he robbed the house, placed my bloody knife 
 upon the mantle-piece, escaped through the window, and 
 
THE RIVALS. 245 
 
 hid among the piles of lumber until he saw me enter, when 
 he gave the alarm and had me arrested under circum 
 stances which he thought would hang me, and which, I 
 admit, are strangely against me. 
 
 "You will not think it strange, colonel, that I should be 
 so positive and precise when you remember that I served 
 for years as a partisan soldier in a country where dark 
 deeds were as frequent as recurring suns. I have tracked 
 out many a one with a smaller clue at the beginning than 
 this ; and if I was free for one week, I would prove John 
 Koberts s guilt, or consent to hang in his place." 
 
 "That is impossible," replied Burr. "We must trust to 
 what I can do towards untangling this dangerous web; and 
 be assured that I am no novice in the art. Give me the 
 street and number of your lodging-house, and also that of 
 the house to which you were sent by Roberts." 
 
 When he had made a note of the numbers, he said: "It 
 will be three weeks before your trial can come on. In that 
 time a great deal may be done. Keep up your spirits. I 
 shall come again in a few days, and hope to bring you 
 cheering tidings." 
 
 To the jailor he said, on leaving, "Treat your prisoner 
 with as much lenity as your duty will permit, and allow him 
 all the comforts you can. I will see that you are recom 
 pensed." 
 
 The obsequious official readily promised all that the 
 great lawyer requested ; and in another hour Aaron Burr 
 was mingling with a gay company in his own drawing- 
 room, playing the part of the courteous host with the pol 
 ished ease of a thorough man of the world, and exhibiting 
 in his countenance not a single trace of the annoying cares 
 that beset his professional life. 
 
 To the lawyer society is always unjust. The mechanic 
 who pushes his plane from sunrise to sunset, and receives 
 
 21* 
 
246 THE RIVALS. 
 
 at night a miserable pittance for his labor, is too apt to 
 murmur when the carriage of the lawyer rolls by him, and 
 his heart is too apt to swell with envy for the wealth 
 which, he thinks, has been so easily acquired. If he could 
 get down into that lawyer s heart and witness the cares and 
 anxieties that have gathered there ; if he could follow him 
 to his private chamber, and watch him, as hour after hour, 
 by the lamp s pale light, he taxes his brain to solve some 
 knotty question, upon which the property, the liberty, or 
 the life of a fellow-being depends; if he could see him 
 lying down, hot and feverish, at cock-crow, not to rest, but 
 to go over again in sleep the mental labors which have em 
 bittered the long day and the longer night, and rise at last, 
 worn and wearied, from his comfortless repose, to renew the 
 exhausting struggle, until nature rebels against the exorbi 
 tant tax, and disease comes in to hurry the neglected body 
 to the grave ; if he could witness all this, pity would take 
 the place of envy, and the bread he has earned by the sweat 
 of his brow become doubly sweet from the comparison. 
 
 To Colonel Burr the cares of the profession were pecu 
 liarly trying. His ardent nature made every cause his 
 own, and in every case he labored as if his life depended 
 upon the result. Yet it was only in his solitary hours that 
 these anxieties were manifest. When he passed from the 
 study to the drawing-room the furrowed brow was left be 
 hind him, and he assumed an appearance of gladness that 
 was often foreign to his heart, because he knew it would be 
 a source of gladness to others. The night of his interview 
 with Durand, he was gayer and more brilliant than usual ; 
 but when his guests departed and his family retired to rest, 
 he paced the floor for hours in anxious thought. Higher 
 motives than professional pride were at work. He owed his 
 life to that man s grateful remembrance of a kindness ; and, 
 apart from this, there was a straightforward manliness about 
 
THE RIVALS. 217 
 
 Durand, there was something so touchingly beautiful in his 
 affection for his mother, and in his self-sacrificing friendship 
 for his unfortunate brother-in-law, that would at any time 
 have commanded the warmest sympathies of Colonel Burr, 
 particularly when he believed that he had been wrongfully 
 and maliciously accused of a crime for which there is no 
 atonement but death. It was past four o clock when he re 
 tired to rest, and before seven he was on his way to the city. 
 His first care was to examine the house where Franz Klink 
 had been killed. The blood had not been washed up, and 
 everything remained as it was on the night of the murder. 
 On the floor there was a large spot of grease, which seemed 
 to have been made by the falling of a tallow candle, and 
 this so far corroborated Durand s story. He next walked 
 to the house to which Durand had been decoyed, noting 
 the time it required to go from one to the other. It was 
 a low ale shop, and the proprietor manifested considera 
 ble surprise at the appearance of a guest so much better 
 dressed than any who were in the habit of crossing his 
 door-sill. Colonel Burr s chief object was to look at the 
 house, to see the man, and form some estimate of his char 
 acter. A few adroit remarks removed his distrust, and 
 when the man supposed that he was entirely absorbed in 
 the contemplation of the merits of the ale he was sipping 
 after the manner of a connoisseur in the article, Colonel 
 Burr turned to him suddenly, and said, 
 
 " What about this murder, of which people have been 
 talking so much the past week ?" 
 
 The man turned deadly pale, and stammered out, "I I 
 don t know anything about it. What made you think I 
 did?" 
 
 " Nothing; only I heard that it was done about here." 
 
 "No, sir, it was not. It was two squares and a half 
 from this." 
 
248 THE RIVALS. 
 
 "Well, I heard differently. I heard, too, that one 
 John Roberts was arrested as the murderer. Do you 
 know him ?" 
 
 "No; and he was not the man. It was a fellow by the 
 name of Durand, who is said to have been a Tory in the 
 Revolution." 
 
 " Indeed ! Then I think I know him. Was he a low 
 man, with broad shoulders, a tremendous chest, and bright 
 black eyes ?" 
 
 "That s the very fellow." 
 
 "Did he visit your house often?" 
 
 " Never but once, and that was the night he done the 
 murder or is said to have done it." 
 
 " I think you said you were not acquainted with Rob 
 erts." 
 
 This time the eye of Colonel Burr was turned upon him 
 with one of those piercing looks no guilty man ever met 
 without quailing. The cheek of the wretch turned purple, 
 then ashy pale, then purple again. In a tone in which 
 apprehension predominated over assumed indignation, he 
 hesitatingly replied, "No, sir. That is, I am not to say 
 acquainted with him. I know him when I see him, and 
 he has may be sometimes taken a mug of ale in my house. 
 But what is that to you ? and what do you mean by ques 
 tioning me so closely ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing," replied Colonel Burr, who had learned 
 all he expected; "only I am a lawyer, and may be em 
 ployed in the case." 
 
 So saying, he threw a silver coin on the counter, and 
 walked away before the astonished proprietor could ask 
 another question. 
 
 His steps were now directed to the sheriff s office, where 
 he examined the club which Durand admitted he had car 
 ried on the night of the murder. It was very bloody, but 
 
THE RIVALS. 249 
 
 none of the dead man s hair was sticking to it, nor was 
 there any evidence, except the blood, of its having been so 
 fatally nsed. The bloody hunting-knife was also there, and 
 he recognized it as the same Durand had worn in 1779. 
 The scabbard was missing. On inquiry, he ascertained the 
 important fact that it was not upon Durand s person at 
 the time of the arrest, nor could it be found in the house 
 after the most careful search. From the watchman he 
 learned that, when Roberts first came to him, he stated 
 that Franz Klink had been robbed and murdered. Colonel 
 Burr made no comment upon the singular fact that he 
 should have known a robbery and murder had been com 
 mitted, when, according to his own statement, he had not 
 been in the house, had heard no cry, and was only alarmed 
 by an unusual sound. He gathered nothing else of im 
 portance, and returned to his office to digest the informa 
 tion he had acquired and to devise the means of obtaining 
 more. 
 
CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 " My -wrath is wreaked the deed is done I 
 And now I go, but go alone." 
 
 IT was ten o clock on a cold October night. Colonel 
 Burr was waiting at his own house for the appearance of 
 Bill Jenkins, who had promised to meet him at that hour. 
 Throughout the day his mind had been entirely occupied 
 by the dangerous situation of Durand. The observations 
 he had made were conclusive to him of the innocence of the 
 accused, but he well knew they would weigh nothing with a 
 court and jury unless supported by other evidence that he 
 did not see the means of procuring. A good deal would 
 depend upon Jenkins, and he feared that individual stood 
 in too much peril of the law himself to be of any great 
 assistance. He rose to his feet and walked to the door 
 when a knock announced the arrival of his expected 
 visitor, having purposely dismissed the servants in order 
 that their conference should be undisturbed in any manner 
 whatever. When he ushered his guest into the room, he 
 could not help expressing the surprise he felt at the com 
 pleteness of the transformation he witnessed. Jenkins was 
 dressed with punctilious neatness ; the awkward, lounging 
 gait usual to him had disappeared ; and, to complete the 
 disguise, the broad scar that disfigured his face was so artist 
 ically filled up with some kind of paste as to be almost 
 invisible. 
 
 "Upon my word, Mr. Jenkins," remarked Colonel Burr ; 
 "you are wonderfully changed for the better. I do not 
 (250) 
 
THE HIVALS. 251 
 
 think I should have recognized you upon the street, and I 
 am not apt to forget a face I have once seen." 
 
 " It is an art that I have been compelled to practice 
 often enough to become a proficient; but I did not design 
 to do more to-night than present such an appearance as 
 would not frighten your family if I should chance to meet 
 them. I proposed also to claim your hospitality for the 
 night, and when I go away in the morning I did not wish 
 that people should think you had given shelter to a 
 beggar." 
 
 "Beggar or no beggar," replied Colonel Burr, "the 
 man who sheltered me in the time of my greatest need 
 shall not go away from my roof while he wishes to remain, 
 no matter what people may think upon the subject. I can 
 not offer you," he continued, "such potent liquor as you 
 once gave me. Here is some Madeira, however, which 
 good judges have pronounced excellent. Be good enough 
 to help yourself as freely and as often as you desire it, for 
 I have many questions to ask ; and as you are probably not 
 as much accustomed to doing without sleep as I am, you 
 may need some stimulant before I get through." 
 
 "Thank you, colonel. I will do full justice to the wine, 
 though I cannot plead any physical necessity for it. The 
 loss of sleep is no inconvenience to a man of my habits." 
 
 At the same time he approached the side-table, and, 
 pouring out a full glass of the generous liquid, swallowed 
 it at a draught. 
 
 "Now, colonel, I am ready. Begin your questions." 
 
 "Draw your chair nearer to the fire, and tell me in the 
 first place who killed Franz Klink !" 
 
 "Didn t Aleck tell you?" 
 
 "He told me who he thought did it, but I want to know 
 who you think it was, and your reasons for that opinion. 
 
 "John Roberts is the man. It must have been him or 
 
252 THE RIVALS. 
 
 Aleck Durand ; and it is impossible that Aleck could have 
 killed a man for his money. I have known him from in 
 fancy, and I know it ; though that will not do him any 
 good, I suppose, on his trial." 
 
 " Never mind what you think will or will not do him 
 good. Give me your reasons, all of your reasons, and let 
 me judge what will benefit him, and how it may do so." 
 
 "Well, then, to go on. I did not send Roberts for 
 Aleck on that night, or any other night. I was not in 
 hiding for a supposed robbery ; none had been committed. 
 I had not been in Sam Larkins s house for a month. I 
 had twice made up my mind to bury my knife between 
 Roberts s ribs, and had been persuaded by Aleck into a 
 promise not to do it. I would not, therefore, go near a 
 house where I was almost certain to meet Roberts, for 
 fear of being tempted to break my promise. Roberts and 
 Lnrkins were old cronies; they planned the murder, and, 
 knowing Aleck s uneasiness about me, they easily made up 
 a story that they knew would draw him from home. Aleck 
 thinks they did not mean to kill at the beginning, but only 
 to rob. He is mistaken. The murder was deliberately 
 planned as well as the robbery ; and one of its objects was 
 to throw suspicion on him, and have him hung if possible. 
 What other motives influenced them I can t guess, but 
 that was one. They calculated that Aleck was so well 
 known as a Tory, that a jury would be ready to believe 
 anything against him; and they judged that very slight 
 circumstances would suffice to hang a man whom they 
 supposed to be entirely destitute of friends among the 
 Whigs." 
 
 "Do you know anything else going to establish the guilt 
 of Roberts?" 
 
 "Before the murder he was hard pushed for money. 
 Since then, although he has not exhibited any large sum, 
 
THE RIVALS. 253 
 
 he has paid his way wherever he went a thing he never 
 did before. It is said, too, that immediately after the 
 watchmen entered the house Roberts seized hold of the 
 dead body, upon pretense of placing it on the bed. Now 
 it is my opinion that he either knew there were blood-stains 
 upon him, or feared there were, and he took the corpse in 
 his arms to have a plausible way of accounting for them if 
 they should be discovered. I do not think of anything 
 else in particular. From my general knowledge of the 
 man I know he is capable of all manner of wickedness. 
 He has himself made a sworn statement, from which it is 
 perfectly evident that if Durand is not the murderer, he is. 
 That is enough for me, and I do not despair of producing 
 proof, in some way, that will convince others as well as 
 myself. It would help the case mightily if we could get 
 hold of the club with which Franz Klink was knocked 
 down ; and, as I could not go about Larkins s house my 
 self, I have put one on the trail who will find out all that 
 can be discovered. They are old birds, however, and will 
 leave few traces of their handiwork." 
 
 Colonel Burr s opinion did not essentially differ from 
 that of Jenkins, although he continued until a late hour 
 of the night to question him closely and minutely upon 
 every event of his own and Roberta s life. It pleased him 
 to learn, that although Jenkins s conduct since the war 
 had not been blameless, and his habits were still far from 
 being such as a moralist could commend, yet he had com 
 mitted no crime which subjected him to the penalties of 
 the law, and the only danger he incurred was the remote 
 one of a prosecution for offenses of which he had been 
 guilty prior to the treaty of peace. He assured Jenkins 
 that he need not be alarmed on account of what he had 
 done during the lawless times of the Revolution; and 
 added, that if any malicious person should institute a 
 
 22 
 
254 THE RIVALS. 
 
 prosecution, he bad no doubt of being able to obtain his 
 pardon. 
 
 "I thank you, colonel, for your offer," was the reply, 
 " as much as if I intended to accept it. The Whigs made 
 me an outlaw, and I do not feel like asking a pardon at 
 their hands. I am going West, as soon as Aleck Durand 
 gets out of this scrape, among a people where I shall not 
 need it. In Kentucky the Indians are troublesome enough 
 to make the addition of a good rifle, a stout heart, and a 
 tolerably strong arm very welcome ; and I am mistaken if 
 they require from me any other passport. To a man who 
 expects no rest, and fears no danger, a life in the woods 
 possesses attractions not to be resisted." 
 
 "If such is your fixed purpose," said Colonel Burr, "I 
 will not argue against it. Indeed, I think it the best thing 
 you can do. Durand must be acquitted in the first place, 
 however, and you must not let your fear of a prosecution 
 prevent you from going wherever it may be necessary to 
 hunt up evidence in his behalf. I will answer for your 
 safety." 
 
 "The assurance is unnecessary. Tell me where you 
 want me to go, and what you want me to do, to help Aleck 
 Durand, and it shall be done, if I hang in one hour after 
 wards." 
 
 "I believe you," said Burr, earnestly. "I believe you 
 fully." Then, after a pause, he added: "It is now late, 
 let me show you to a bed. Remember, that as fast as you 
 gather information, no matter whether you deem it import 
 ant or not, you are to come to me." 
 
 A light was still burning in Colonel Burr s study long 
 after he had shown Jenkins to his bedroom. According 
 to his usual custom he was arranging and classifying the 
 facts and circumstances which had come to his knowledge, 
 and applying to them the law of circumstantial evidence. 
 
THE RIVALS. 255 
 
 For him there was no hour of repose while anything 
 remained to be done. 
 
 The next day he called upon Durand, and again ques 
 tioned him not only upon the events of the murder, but 
 upon many things which apparently had no connection 
 with it. By the time the day of trial arrived, he was armed 
 at all points; prepared to meet every possible attack, arid 
 to take advantage of every possible fault in his adversary s 
 management of the case. The watchman who was first 
 introduced as - a witness on the part of the prosecution had 
 to undergo a searching cross-examination, from which, 
 however, there appeared little likelihood of obtaining any 
 advantage, for the witness was clearly an honest man who 
 had nothing to conceal, and no motive for telling anything 
 but the truth. Colonel Burr drew from him the fact that 
 Roberts had been the first one to discover the knife on the 
 mantle-piece ; that the scabbard was missing, and had not 
 been found upon the person of the prisoner, or in the 
 house ; and finally, that the club picked up by the dead 
 body had on it no appearance of hair, although the 
 deceased wore a thick coat of curly hair, a large lock of 
 which had been driven by the force of the blow into the 
 wound on his head. He admitted that detecting, as he 
 supposed, Alexis Durand almost in the very fact, he made 
 no examination to ascertain how far it was possible for any 
 other person to have been the guilty party. The two suc 
 ceeding witnesses gave almost the same version as the first. 
 The surgeon who had been called in to examine the dead 
 body was next placed upon the witness stand. He described 
 the wounds, and gave it as his opinion that either would 
 have produced death. He was satisfied the wound in the 
 side was made by the knife exhibited in court, and believed 
 that on the hea,d might have been made by the club, 
 although the edges had the appearance of being more 
 
256 THE RIVALS. 
 
 sharply cue than is generally the case where a smooth, 
 round instrument is used. At this point, Colonel Burr 
 drew from his desk an eight-square oak club, about two 
 feet in length, with a leathern strap through one end, and 
 heavily loaded at the other. 
 
 "Examine this club, doctor," he said, handing the wit 
 ness the murderous weapon as he spoke, "and tell the jury 
 which of the two would be most likely to make such a 
 wound as you describe." 
 
 "Either might do it; but, if I had been shown the two 
 clubs together immediately after the examination, I should 
 have said that the blow was given with the short one." 
 
 This decided testimony was strengthened rather than 
 shaken by the further examination of the prosecuting 
 attorney. The attention of the jury was also called to 
 the fact that the club had the appearance of having been 
 washed at the heavy end, and in one or two places scrubbed 
 with sand-paper. 
 
 John Roberts was the next witness called. He had been 
 purposely reserved for the last, in order that the deepest 
 impression might be made upon the minds of the jury at 
 the close of the prosecution. Colonel Burr observed that 
 his cheek grew a shade paler when his eye rested on the 
 loaded club. He had not expected to see that instrument 
 there, and knew not what it portended. As soon as he 
 began to give in his testimony, Colonel Burr s eye was fixed 
 upon him with a steady and unremitting gaze. At first he 
 bore it with considerable fortitude, but after awhile he 
 hesitated, stammered, and then trembled visibly. No mat 
 ter how he turned, no matter which way he looked, that 
 searching eye was never removed from his person seeming 
 to penetrate to his inmost soul, and read the darkest secrets 
 of his guilty breast. In vain he tried to avoid it ; in vain 
 he tried to confine his own looks to the court and jury, or 
 
THE RIVALS. 257 
 
 to the prosecuting attorney. In spite of himself his glances 
 would wander to those large and burning orbs that fasci 
 nated while they terrified, and compelled attention when 
 attention was torture. His evidence was in substance the 
 same as he had given before the coroner, but his manner 
 of testifying detracted greatly from its effect, and the 
 marked change from the confident air with which he had 
 entered the court-room, to the unaccountable terrors that 
 shook him before the close of the examination, left a most 
 unfavorable impression upon the minds of the jury. Colonel 
 Burr noticed the effect that had been produced, and en 
 deavored to enhance it by an appearance of extreme fair 
 ness in his cross-examination. For some time the questions 
 he put were so immaterial, and his manner was so careless, 
 that Roberts regained confidence, and once more looked 
 about him with an unabashed air. After awhile, Colonel 
 Burr inquired in a mild and even tone, 
 
 " What is your trade or occupation ?" 
 
 " I am a laborer," answered Roberts. 
 
 "What kind of laborer ?" 
 
 " I work on such jobs as I can get ; generally loading and 
 unloading vessels." 
 
 " Let me see your hand." 
 
 It was dirty enough, but smooth and soft, with none of 
 the horny hardness always apparent in the hand of the 
 working-man. Colonel Burr quietly called the attention 
 of the jury to the fact, and resumed his cross-examination. 
 
 "Did you ever see this club before ?" he asked, handing 
 the loaded club to Roberts. 
 
 " I don t know. I have seen a good many clubs like it, 
 and that may have been among them." 
 
 "Did you ever own one like it?" 
 
 "No; I never did." 
 
 The manner of the interrogator now changed entirely. 
 22* 
 
258 THE RIVALS. 
 
 His voice was stern, and again that look of unearthly pen 
 etration was fixed upon his victim. 
 
 "Did you not carry just such a club as this on the night 
 Franz Klink was murdered?" 
 
 "No, sir," stammered Roberts, trembling in every limb. 
 "I never carried such a club in my life." 
 
 "That will do, Mr. Roberts. You can stand aside." 
 
 The court, the jury, and the prosecuting attorney were 
 all alike surprised at this sudden dismissal of the principal 
 witness against the prisoner, after so slight a cross-exam 
 ination ; but Colonel Burr had obtained what he wanted. 
 
 In his examination of a witness he never asked questions 
 for the sake of asking them. He never took chances. He 
 had a fixed object, and when it was attained, he knew when 
 to stop. He did not choose to run the risk of drawing out 
 something unfavorable to his client, either to show his own 
 dexterity, or in the mere hope of obtaining something that 
 would benefit him. Besides, he was satisfied that a prac 
 ticed and hardened villain like Roberts would come into 
 the court-house perfectly fortified on all the main points 
 of his testimony, and that the only result of a prolonged 
 cross-examination would be to give that testimony greater 
 strength. He therefore confined himself to questions which 
 could not have been foreseen and prepared for. 
 
 For the defense it was proved that Alexis Durand, ever 
 since his arrival in New York, had maintained the charac 
 ter of an industrious, sober, and peaceable man. It was 
 proved that, from his occupation as a boatman, he generally 
 received exactly the description of money which was found 
 in his chest; that he had never been known to want money ; 
 that he was on the best terms with his landlord, who fre 
 quently left the shop for hours in his charge ; that they 
 had slept alone in the same house for months, and that 
 Durand had free access both to the sleeping-room of Franz 
 
THE RIVALS. 259 
 
 and the store-room below. Finally, Colonel Burr called to 
 the stand a man by the name of Thomas Winters, who 
 testified that he knew Durand slightly, and Roberts inti 
 mately. To v a question as to what Roberts did to earn a 
 support, he answered: " Nothing, as I knows on, except 
 gamble, and such like." 
 
 In answer to other questions, he said that he was in 
 Larkins s house on the night of the murder; that it was 
 usual at that house to close the doors before ten o clock, 
 but the initiated, by giving a certain password, could enter 
 at any hour ; that Durand came in some time after the doors 
 were closed, and he overheard him ask the landlord for 
 Bill Jenkins ; that Larkins replied he had gone out, and 
 directed that any one who asked for him should be told to 
 wait, when, to the certain knowledge of the witness, Jen 
 kins had not been in the house for days ; that Durand did 
 wait for a considerable time, but at last became impatient, 
 and determined to go, Larkins still urging him to wait 
 longer. Witness stated that Jenkins was a friend of his, 
 and that after Durand had left, he concluded to follow him 
 and tell him where Jenkins was ; that he walked very fast, 
 without, however, overtaking Durand; that, at the corner 
 nearest the house of Klink, he heard Roberts give the 
 alarm to the watchmen ; that, in his opinion, it was impos 
 sible for Durand to have reached home, committed the 
 murder, and rifled the bouse, within the time he left Lark 
 ins s house and the time he heard Roberts give the alarm. 
 He further testified that the loaded club, exhibited in court, 
 had been taken by him from a room in Larkins s house oc 
 cupied by John Roberts ; that it usually hung on a nail by 
 the door ; that he had seen it there several times when he 
 went to Roberts s room to play at cards, and that two days 
 ago he had taken it away, unobserved, at the request of 
 Jenkins, for the purpose or exhibiting it on this trial. 
 
260 THE RIVALS. 
 
 The testimony of this witness was so clear and straight 
 forward, and he maintained, in spite of a severe cross- 
 examination, so much the air of an honest man, that, 
 although he acknowledged himself to be much of a scamp, 
 and a good deal addicted to low and disreputable vices, 
 the court and the jury were inclined to give him full credit; 
 and the pains the prosecuting attorney took to invalidate 
 his evidence proved that he regarded it as exceedingly 
 dangerous to his case. 
 
 It was late at night when Colonel Burr rose to address 
 the jury. He began by a dissertation on the nature of 
 circumstantial evidence ; admitted that the law held it suffi 
 cient to a conviction for the crime of murder, but contended 
 that certain rules were laid down for its government, all 
 of which it was incumbent on the prosecution to show had 
 been fully complied with. If any one link should be found 
 wanting, the offense was not proved, and the prisoner must 
 be acquitted. The first rule the groundwork upon which 
 everything rested was, that the circumstances themselves 
 should be fully established. Not by a mere preponderance 
 of evidence, but by the clear and positive testimony of at 
 least one unimpeached witness. Where a material circum 
 stance depended upon one witness only, that witness must 
 be supported by collateral aid, especially if his former char 
 acter, contradictory statements, suspicious manner of testi 
 fying, or any other cause, raised a doubt of his credibility. 
 
 After dwelling upon this point until he had sufficiently 
 impressed it upon the minds of the jury, he asked: "Have 
 the circumstances in this case been established according 
 to the requirements of the law ?" Some of them, he ad 
 mitted, had been. He went over the testimony of the 
 watchmen, conceded that it had been given like honest 
 men, and he believed their statements to be true. But 
 what was it? Unsupported by Roberts, it did nothing 
 
THE RIVALS. 261 
 
 more than raise a bare presumption of guilt; it fell far, 
 very far short of excluding, to a moral certainty, every 
 hypothesis but the one that the prisoner was guilty. The 
 whole case, he contended, depended at last upon Roberts s 
 evidence alone. Was he supported by collateral aid ? No. 
 Was there nothing to throw a doubt upon the credibility 
 of the man ? There was not only enough for that pur 
 pose, but enough to prove beyond all cavil that he was a 
 base and willful perjurer. He had sworn that he was a 
 day-laborer, while his hand gave conclusive evidence that 
 it had long been free from, if it had ever known, the hard 
 ening effects of honest toil. He was directly contradicted 
 also by Winters, who knew him well, who had been his 
 associate, and who confessed, to his own shame, that he 
 had participated in his pursuits. He swore that Roberts 
 was a gambler, and followed no other business. 
 
 Colonel Burr then alluded to Roberts s denial of ever 
 having seen the loaded club, when it was in proof that 
 it was taken from his room ; that it habitually hung 
 there, and could have belonged to no one else. The jury, 
 he said, must be satisfied that in relation to this fact, as in 
 relation to that of being a day-laborer, the witness had 
 sworn falsely, and common sense, as well as common law, 
 demanded the rejection of his whole testimony. In two 
 plain matters of fact, where there was not the least room 
 for an honest mistake, he had committed unmistakable per 
 jury. It was not necessary, therefore, to refer to the im 
 probability of the story itself, to his unexplained wander 
 ing about the streets at such an hour, or to the guilty 
 terrors which shook his frame while the damning perjury 
 escaped his lips. The positive testimony, apart from all 
 these circumstances of doubt and suspicion, incontroverti- 
 bly established perjury upon him; and the juror who could 
 take away the life of a fellow-being upon the evidence of 
 
262 THE RIVALS. 
 
 such a man, must be dead to all the best instincts of 
 humanity. When that evidence was discarded, what re 
 mained? Nothing upon which a verdict of "guilty" could 
 be based. Everything else might be true, and yet the 
 prisoner might be as innocent as the court or any one of 
 the jury now sitting in judgment upon him. To illustrate 
 his meaning, he supposed a case. Aided by the communi 
 cations Durand had made to him, his supposed case was 
 precisely in accordance with the facts ; and this he put to 
 the jury so strongly and clearly, that they could not refrain 
 from nodding assent as he progressed. He dwelt upon the 
 fact, sworn to by Winters, that the prisoner could not have 
 committed the murder and accomplished the robbery within 
 the time that elapsed from his leaving Larkins s house and 
 that when he heard the alarm given to the watchmen, and 
 insisted that he had done much more than was necessary 
 to insure the acquittal of his client. According to the law 
 it was sufficient to raise a doubt of his guilt ; he had gone 
 beyond the requirements of the law, and demonstrated his 
 innocence. He had said enough for his client s defense, 
 but not enough for public justice. A foul and bloody mur 
 der had been committed ; it was the work of human hands, 
 and he proposed to track the felon through all the cunning 
 devices by which he had sought to escape from the penal 
 ties prescribed for the punishment of his horrid crime. 
 
 Here Colonel Burr turned his full front to the witness 
 Roberts, who was leaning against one of the columns of 
 the court-room. 
 
 There must have been, he continued, a guilty agent. 
 That agent must have had some motive or inducement to 
 commit the crime, and also the means to accomplish his 
 purpose. He here recapitulated the testimony, showing 
 the total absence of motive on the part of Durand, and 
 the presence of that motive in Roberts. According to 
 
THE RIVALS. 263 
 
 Roberts s own statement, lie had called upon Durand for 
 the purpose of collecting a debt, whereas the proof showed 
 that Durand was an industrious, laboring man, engaged in 
 a business whose profits more than supplied his wants, 
 while Roberts was notoriously penniless. The story of in 
 debtedness was therefore too improbable for belief. All 
 the other facts and circumstances which weighed against 
 the witness were stated with the concise clearness for 
 which the orator was so remarkable. Throughout he had 
 watched the- jury with the keen scrutiny of a man accus 
 tomed to study every varying shade of the human counte 
 nance ; and when he saw that their interest was excited to 
 the highest point, he suddenly seized a candle in each 
 hand, held them aloft over his head, and, advancing to 
 Roberts, his eyes burning like living coals, and his voice 
 ringing as if ordering a charge on the battle-field, he 
 shouted, "Behold the murderer!" 
 
 The effect was electrical. The jury, by a common im 
 pulse, rose to their feet. Roberts shook and trembled as 
 if the doom of death was sounding in his ears. Gradually 
 his knees gave way, and he sunk down helpless at the base 
 of the column. For more than a minute a silence deep 
 and dread reigned throughout the court-room judge, jury, 
 and spectators were gazing in speechless amazement upon 
 the cowering wretch. It was broken by Colonel Burr. In 
 a clear and sonorous voice, he exclaimed : " There, gentle 
 men, is Nature s testimony! There is a confession written 
 by the finger of God himself! Now write your verdict!" 
 
 There was another pause ; another period of awful sus 
 pense, and men drew their breath with a feeling of intense 
 relief when the orator slowly replaced the candles on the 
 table and resumed his seat. 
 
 He had not spoken more than three-quarters of an hour. 
 He had not touched more than half the available points 
 
264 THE RIVALS. 
 
 for the defense. A less experienced pleader would have 
 gone on, and probably ruined a cause already gained, by 
 attempting to make it doubly certain. Colonel Burr knew 
 better. He was an adept in the most useful of all knowl 
 edge to a lawyer. He knew when to stop. He had 
 strained the minds of the jury to the highest pitch of ex 
 citement, and he knew that under the reaction which must 
 follow, the concluding argument of the attorney-general 
 would fall upon dull and listless ears. That officer was 
 himself embarrassed by a painful consciousness of the same 
 fact ; and the jury, at the conclusion of his address, returned 
 a verdict of "not guilty," without leaving the box. The 
 court, of its own motion, immediately ordered the arrest 
 of Roberts, and his committal to await the action of a 
 grand jury. 
 
 It was some time before the immense throng who had 
 gathered to witness the result of the trial would disperse; 
 and the officer in charge of Roberts was standing near the 
 door impatiently waiting an opportunity to get his prisoner 
 into a carriage. A tall man, wearing a mustache and im 
 mense whiskers, who had given earnest attention to every 
 stage of the trial, was observed slowly edging his way 
 through the throng toward the spot were Roberts was 
 standing. A broad-brimmed slouched hat concealed the 
 upper part of his face, and a horseman s cloak clasped 
 around the neck performed the same service for his body. 
 Watching for a favorable moment, when the crowd around 
 and in front of him had considerably thinned, he seized the 
 arm of the prisoner and said, in a hoarse whisper, 
 
 "John Roberts do you know me?" 
 
 There was no response ; but a sudden start and an equally 
 sudden change of countenance told plainly enough that he 
 was recognized. Instantly a broad steel blade glittered in 
 the candlelight a low, dull sound followed its descent; the 
 
THE RIVALS. 265 
 
 officer whose hand was upon Roberts s arm felt him shud 
 der, and heard him faintly murmur, "I am a dead man." 
 Without another word he sank bleeding on the floor. 
 Before those immediately around comprehended the terri 
 ble deed which had been committed, the murderer bounded 
 from the door, and was lost amid the crowd. 
 
 It was later than usual the next day when Colonel Burr 
 repaired to his office. Durand had been for some time 
 waiting his arrival. After the first salutations were over, 
 he said, 
 
 "I am going beyond the mountains, colonel, and have 
 come to say good-by." 
 
 "Going beyond the mountains! For what? The evi 
 dence of yesterday showed that you were engaged in a 
 prosperous business, and you surely cannot think that it 
 will be lessened by the events of the trial ?" 
 
 " No, it is not that. The fact is, the business never suited 
 me. I can work, and have worked, rather than starve or 
 beg; but during seven years service in the wars a man 
 will acquire habits and tastes not easily shaken off. I am 
 weary and lonesome here in the city, and long to be in 
 the free woods, with a knife in my belt and a rifle on my 
 shoulder." 
 
 Colonel Burr was not deceived by the apparently natural 
 reason assigned by Durand for this sudden determination. 
 He remembered what Jenkins had said of a similar pur 
 pose, -and at once connected them together. He had 
 scarcely any doubt as to who had stabbed Roberts in the 
 court-room, and felt that it would be useless to dissuade 
 Durand from his purpose. 
 
 " It seems to me that you have other reasons," he replied ; 
 "but I have no right to pry into your secrets, and if your 
 mind is made up upon grounds that you consider sufficient, 
 
 23 
 
266 THE RIVALS. 
 
 I will not attempt to change it. Can I do anything for 
 you before you go ?" 
 
 "Nothing that I can think of. My money has been returned 
 to me, and I have more than enough to buy two good rifles 
 and such other articles as will be needful in a life among 
 the savages. You must not think, colonel, that I have any 
 secrets I wish to hide from you. There is something on 
 my mind that I doubt whether I ought to tell you ; not on 
 my account, but your own. Nor is it exactly my secret 
 either, though to a certain extent I am involved in it." 
 
 "I expect I can guess it. Indeed, I know enough to 
 be assured I can. You need not, therefore, say anything 
 about it." 
 
 "In that case you must know all. You might guess too 
 much or too little, and think less of me, or of one who is 
 very dear to me, than I would have you do. It was Bill 
 Jenkins who killed Roberts last night while in the hands 
 of an officer of the law. I left the court-room, you remem 
 ber, as soon as the verdict was rendered, and went directly 
 to a tavern to procure refreshments and a night s lodging. 
 Not long after I got there, the news of Roberts s murder 
 came. My mind misgave me, and I determined to hunt 
 up Bill Jenkins. While in prison he had given me a clew 
 to all his haunts, and I had no doubt of finding him. The 
 only difficulty lay in getting on the street without attract 
 ing observation. I was known at the tavern, and the whole 
 trial had been so remarkable, that I was an object of 
 curiosity to every one who came in. The front room was 
 crowded, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, and if 
 I went out it would be sure to excite remark. I had pro 
 longed my supper, although I had but little appetite, in 
 the hope that they would disperse. Some did go, but 
 many remained. I had ordered a fire to be lighted in my 
 room, and was just about requesting the landlord to show 
 
THE RIVALS. 267 
 
 me to it, when Jenkins himself walked in. I had observed 
 him in the court-room, so disguised that no eye but mine 
 could have detected him. His dress was now entirely dif 
 ferent. The whiskers, mustache, and wig were gone the 
 slouched hat and horseman s cloak had also disappeared. 
 His manner was easy and unembarrassed, and he congratu 
 lated me upon my acquittal in a voice so perfectly natural, 
 that no one, who did not know him as I did, would have 
 believed it possible for him to have been .an actor in the 
 bloody scene which had just transpired. He called for a 
 glass of rum at the bar, invited me and others to join him, 
 and behaved exactly as a man innocent of any offense, and 
 rejoiced at the escape of a friend from a great danger, 
 would be expected to behave. After he had taken another 
 drink, he said aloud, in the hearing of those present, that 
 he had come to pass the first night of my liberty with me, 
 and suggested that as I must have been kept awake by 
 anxiety for several preceding nights, we had better re 
 tire. On entering my room, he locked the door, and care 
 fully sounded the walls to be certain that he could not be 
 overheard by the sleepers in the adjoining rooms. Then, 
 approaching where I stood before the fire, he said, in a 
 fierce whisper, 
 
 " I have done it, Aleck. I struck down the damned 
 villain in the hall of justice, and I would have done it if 
 his arms had been clasped around the holy altar. 
 
 " lam sorry for it, Bill, I replied. It was a great 
 crime, rashly and unnecessarily committed. He would have 
 been hung, at any rate, for the murder of Franz Klink. 
 
 " It was for that very reason I did it. I had no idea of 
 being cheated out of my vengeance by process of law. I 
 could have forgiven him for burning us out of our cabin in 
 the Highlands ; I could have forgiven him at least I 
 would not have stricken him for seeking your death by 
 
268 THE RIVALS. 
 
 false swearing. If he had done nothing else, I would have 
 been content to leave him in the hands of the law; but 
 there is more to hear. You remember that he did not 
 join us until the cause of the colonists was at the lowest 
 ebb. The British had taken New York and chased George 
 Washington through the Jerseys. Before that he had 
 been a rampant Whig. While you were in prison, I was 
 charged by Colonel Burr to watch him narrowly, and to 
 engage others whom he would not suspect to do the same 
 thing. I knew that Winters hated him, for he had been 
 robbed by Roberts and Larkins at cards, and I put him 
 upon the trail. A week ago he communicated to Colonel 
 Burr nearly all he swore on the trial, and was instructed 
 by him to continue on the watch. Colonel Burr also sup 
 plied him with money to enable him to frequent Roberts s 
 places of resort. Winters either caught him, accidentally, 
 under the influence of liquor, or succeeded in making him 
 so, and while in that state turned the conversation upon 
 Klink s murder. He was not so far gone, however, as to 
 be thrown off his guard in reference to so dangerous a sub 
 ject, and persisted in pretty much the same story he had 
 sworn to before the coroner. Winters then mentioned my 
 name. He says he had no particular object, other than to 
 keep Roberts talking, and, for this purpose, he asked if it 
 might not be possible that I had helped you to murder 
 Franz. To this Roberts answered no, but that I ought to 
 be hung for twenty other things; and went on to say that 
 I carried the mark of his lashes on my back, and that some 
 day he would put a halter around my neck. When Winters 
 told me this, it was like a flash of lightning suddenly illu 
 minating a dark and murky night, and I could at once 
 account for the instinctive longing I had felt for years to 
 bury my knife in his heart. Even when we were serving 
 King George in the same company, I am certain I should 
 
THE RIVALS. 269 
 
 have killed him if we had been left alone together for a 
 single day. I hated him, and my heart told me I had 
 cause, though I had no other proof. It was all as clear 
 to me as daylight now, and I wondered I had not made 
 the discovery before. I remembered, as distinctly as if it 
 were yesterday, his form and voice among that pack of 
 disguised hell hounds who marked my back with scars 
 that I shall carry to the grave, and murdered my young 
 wife and her unborn babe. I started on the instant to hunt 
 him up. Luckily I did not find him that day, and when 
 the fire in my brain had lost a portion of its fury, I remem 
 bered that if I killed him then, it would be charged that 
 you had instigated me to the deed in order to get rid of his 
 evidence on your trial. Two nights ago I met him unex 
 pectedly ; we were alone ; my hand was on the hilt of the 
 same knife which this night made its way to his heart. I 
 did not kill him, but I hissed in his ear that his hour was 
 approaching, and when next we met the arch fiend himself 
 should not save him. For fear he would have me arrested 
 I hired a disguise, and gave out that I had left the city. 
 Even Winters really supposed that I was gone. I passed 
 him on the street, and spoke to him in bar-rooms, and he 
 did not know me. I went to the court-house to-day, re 
 solved that Roberts should never leave it alive. I could 
 not anticipate his arrest, and when it was done, I trembled 
 lest he should escape me. The crowd did me good service 
 in compelling the officer to stop where he did, and now I 
 can sleep in peace. 
 
 "And he did sleep," continued Durand, "as sweetly as an 
 infant in its cradle, though I paced the floor until daylight. 
 When he awoke, our plans were soon formed, and he is now 
 on his way to Kentucky. I could not go until I had seen 
 you and thanked you for your generous exertions in behalf 
 of a man who is so poorly able to reward you for it." 
 
 23* 
 
270 THE RIVALS. 
 
 " Upon that score," replied Colonel Burr, " we are barely 
 even. It is life for life. When do you go ?" 
 
 " To-night. Jenkins, so far as I know, is unsuspected 
 now, but he may be; and I do not choose that people 
 should be able to get upon his trail by tracking mine. I go 
 alone, and under cover of the darkness. It will be ten or 
 twelve days, and far from here, before I join him. I do not 
 ask you not to betray us I know you will not; and only 
 hesitated about telling you, because I feared that if it should 
 become known, men might charge you with aiding the 
 escape of a murderer. When I discovered that you already 
 knew the criminal, I could not bear for you to suspect that 
 he had committed the crime for no other reason than because 
 Roberts had sought my life. And now, Colonel," he con 
 tinued, while large tears rolled from eyes to which tears 
 were strangers, and his giant frame shivered like that of 
 a child in an ague fit, "kindest, noblest, truest, best of 
 men, good-by forever. In this world we shall never meet 
 again ; but if I forget you for one day amid all my wan 
 derings and perils, may the lightnings of heaven blast me 
 where I stand." 
 
 He was mistaken. They did meet years afterwards upon 
 the banks of the beautiful Ohio, when strange changes had 
 come over the fortunes of both. 
 
CHAPTER XYIL 
 
 " I had borne it it hurt me but I bore it. 
 Till this lest running over of the cup 
 Of bitterness." 
 
 THE treaty between England, France, and the United 
 States, by which the Independence of the latter was ac 
 knowledged, withered the daring hopes of Alexander Ham 
 ilton, and utterly blasted the wily schemes of his unscrupu 
 lous confederate, Billings. That shrewd and dangerous 
 man at once understood that all hope was at an end ; yet 
 he neither cowered nor complained. To all outward ap 
 pearance his bearing was the same ; but notwithstanding the 
 seeming calmness of the surface, a serpent had wreathed 
 itself about his heart, whose sting drove him on, and on, 
 in quest of new excitements, new plots, and new conspira 
 cies. In two years afterwards he set sail for France, and it 
 was long before he was again heard of in America. 
 
 Alexander Hamilton was perhaps as deeply wounded 
 and disappointed as Billings, but for him a theater was still 
 open in the new world, of which he resolved to make the 
 most. When the army was disbanded, he turned his atten 
 tion, like Aaron Burr, to the profession of the law. Like 
 him he studied hard, and like him he rose rapidly. It was 
 at the bar, after years of separation, that the rivals met 
 once more. Here the struggle between them was resumed, 
 but their rivalry now was divested of the bitterness of for 
 mer years. It was a war of two giant intellects, in which 
 neither could stoop to envy, because envy would have been 
 an acknowledgment of inferiority. Things continued in 
 
 (271) 
 
272 THE RIVALS. 
 
 this state until politics came in to imbitter their relations. 
 In the division of parties Aaron Burr took the popular, or 
 Democratic side Alexander Hamilton the Federal ; still 
 their intercourse was personally kind and respectful, until 
 the year 1*790, when Alexander Hamilton was Secretary of 
 the Treasury, and his father-in-law, General Schuyler, was 
 a candidate for re-election to the United States Senate, 
 from the State of New York. Aaron Burr became a can 
 didate in opposition to him, and in January, 1191, was 
 elected over the combined influence of Hamilton and 
 Schuyler. From that day the old enmity in the bosom of 
 Alexander Hamilton sprung into a new and more venomous 
 life. Whatever Burr advocated, Hamilton opposed ; where- 
 ever Burr sought to climb, he found Hamilton in his way. 
 It was impossible that Colonel Burr could misunderstand 
 the extent and bitterness of this opposition ; but then, as in 
 the past and throughout his after life, he locked his secrets 
 in his own bosom, and made no complaint. 
 
 The career of Colonel Burr in the Senate is too well 
 known to require repetition here. In the third year of his 
 service a great calamity overtook him. The wife who had 
 been to him the best of friends and counselors was called 
 away, and he was left with none but the little Theodosia to 
 enliven his home and soothe him amid the perplexing cares 
 which were gathering thick around him. This blow he bore 
 with his accustomed fortitude ; and the only indication the 
 public had of the intensity of his sufferings, was the restless 
 eagerness with which he plunged into politics. 
 
 Before the expiration of his term, the State of New 
 York had become thoroughly Federal, and General Philip 
 Schuyler was elected to succeed him. To reverse this state 
 of things, and bring New York into the Democratic fold, 
 was now the cherished object of his life. To this end he 
 devoted all his vast talents and all his tireless energy. He 
 
THE RIVALS. 273 
 
 succeeded, after a contest unparalleled in the annals of the 
 Republic, and in the year 1800 he was nominated as the 
 Democratic candidate for Vice-President, on the same 
 ticket with Thomas Jefferson. This nomination, so grati 
 fying at the time, was the fruitful source of all the woes 
 that afflicted his after years. The result of the election 
 was : Jefferson 73, Burr 73, Adams 65, Pinckney 64, Jay 1. 
 Under the Constitution as it then stood, an election by the 
 House of Representatives became indispensable to decide 
 which of the two highest on the list (Jefferson or Burr) 
 should hold the office of President, and which the office of 
 Yice-President of the United States. Here was a field of 
 operations exactly suited to the genius of Alexander Ham 
 ilton, and his conduct during that period was such as to 
 fully justify old John Adams in the declaration that he was 
 the most unprincipled intriguer in America. He writes to 
 leading Federalists to hold out the bait of their support to 
 Burr, but warns them at the same time that that support 
 must not be given to him in reality. He tells them that 
 Jefferson is a libertine in morals, a radical in politics, and 
 an infidel in religion ; but adds that Burr is the more dan 
 gerous man, and, if elected to the Presidency, that he would 
 conduct the government a la Bonaparte. By such low 
 and despicable arts as these he sought the ruin of the rival 
 whose power he had felt, and whose future influence upon 
 the politics of the nation he most dreaded. Colonel Burr 
 did not fall into the trap, and yet he suffered all the conse 
 quences that could have followed if he had yielded fully to 
 the temptation. The mind of Jefferson was by some means 
 poisoned against him, and no amount of evidence was suffi 
 cient to remove the prejudices then imbibed. In looking 
 back upon the history of that memorable contest, it is diffi 
 cult to conceive how the belief ever could have obtained that 
 Colonel Burr was willingly the rival of Mr. Jefferson. Yet 
 
274 THE RIVALS. 
 
 it did prevail very widely, and none were more fixed in that 
 opinion than Mr. Jefferson himself. It was this belief 
 which in after years led him into the gravest error of his 
 life, and left upon his character the deepest stain it bears. 
 
 When the result was almost certainly known, although 
 the returns were not fully received, Colonel Burr addressed 
 a letter to Samuel Smith, a member of the House of Rep 
 resentatives from Maryland, and a devoted friend of Mr. 
 Jefferson. To have sought an election by the House, after 
 the publication of that letter, would have been an act of 
 folly, from which an idiot would have shrunk. He says to 
 General Smith : 
 
 " It is highly probable that I shall have an equal number 
 of votes with Mr. Jefferson ; but, if such should be the 
 result, every man who knows me ought to know that I 
 would utterly disclaim all competition. Be assured that 
 the Federal party can entertain no wish for such an ex 
 change. As to my friends, they would dishonor my views 
 and insult my feelings by a suspicion that I would submit 
 to be instrumental in counteracting the wishes and the 
 expectations of the United States. And I now constitute 
 you my proxy to declare these sentiments if the occasion 
 should require." 
 
 Notwithstanding the emphatic and earnest disclaimer 
 contained in this letter of all intention to engage in a con 
 test with Mr. Jefferson, the Federal party, for their own 
 purposes, determined to run him. Nothing could have 
 been further from the mind of Alexander Hamilton than a 
 desire to promote the election of his rival, yet nothing 
 could have been more gratifying to him than to see him 
 engaged in a contest which, terminate as it might, was sure 
 to blacken his character and destroy his popularity with 
 the nation. To this end all his powers of intrigue were 
 directed, and he succeeded but too well in the object he 
 
THE RIVALS. 275 
 
 had in view. Colonel Burr was no candidate, sought no 
 support, and emphatically disclaimed all desire .to receive 
 it. That support was forced upon him, and then he was 
 held responsible for what he had done all in his power to 
 prevent. The world s history does not present an instance 
 of more glaring injustice, nor is there one, in the long list 
 of statesmen who fill its pages, in whose person the blind 
 ness of partisan zeal and the merciless nature of partisan 
 persecution is more completely illustrated. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson was finally elected. His mind was then 
 just in that state when the fires of rancorous hate are most 
 easily kindled, and there were those about him who did not 
 fail to apply the match. Aaron Burr soon became a 
 marked man,, and when it was known that his political 
 destruction had been resolved upon by the President, ten 
 thousand tongues and pens were found ready to assail him. 
 The storm he could not avert; but he neither bent before 
 it, nor cowered at its fury. Calm, and seemingly uncon 
 scious of the active malignity of his enemies, he went on 
 to discharge the duties of his high office, with a grace, a 
 dignity, and an ability which has never since been equaled. 
 But Colonel Burr was not idle, nor had he the least idea 
 of falling an unresisting victim. The Yice-Presidency, for 
 a second term, he knew was beyond his grasp. Mr. Jef 
 ferson was all powerful at the time, and in that quarter 
 Colonel Burr had no hope. That he would be left off the 
 ticket he never for a moment doubted. Under these cir 
 cumstances, he resolved to pursue the course he had pur 
 sued with so much success on a former occasion, and appeal 
 directly to the people of New York. A gubernatorial 
 election was coming on, and in February, 1804, he an 
 nounced himself as an independent candidate for the office. 
 The whole weight of the administration was at once thrown 
 against him, and all of Hamilton s talents for intrigue were 
 
276 THE RIVALS. 
 
 actively and incessantly employed to insure his defeat. It 
 was a strange union Jefferson and Hamilton but hate 
 accepts the services of any ally, and both of them hated 
 and dreaded Burr too much to stand on scruples. By 
 their joint efforts he was defeated ; and he thus saw go out 
 his last hope of political advancement. 
 
 A few weeks after the election, on a balmy night in June, 
 when Colonel Burr was in his own house, surrounded by a 
 select company of friends, as gay and apparently as happy 
 as if nothing had occurred to annoy him, the following 
 note was put into his hands : 
 
 " One who has much to communicate to you in reference 
 to the past, which it concerns you to know, is now 
 stretched upon a bed of death, and earnestly requests that 
 you will come to him as soon as may be." 
 
 There was no signature, and, making a polite excuse to 
 his friends, Burr followed the servant from the room to 
 inquire who had brought the note. He was told that the 
 messenger was at the door. 
 
 "Then show him into the library." 
 
 When the man entered, he asked, 
 
 "Who gave you this note?" 
 
 "A man who is dying in my house. I don t know his 
 name." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 "The keeper of a boarding-house on Street, and a 
 
 friend of yours." 
 
 After satisfying himself upon some other points, Colonel 
 Burr said, 
 
 "Tell the gentleman I will call to-night." 
 
 "He told me to bring you with me." 
 
 "That is impossible. I have company; but say to him 
 I will be there before midnight." 
 
THE RIVALS. 27? 
 
 The messenger departed, and Colonel Burr returned to 
 his parlor without a trace of anxiety on his brow. His 
 friends soon dispersed ; and about eleven o clock he knocked 
 at the door of the house to which he had been directed. 
 It was opened with a promptness which proved he had 
 been waited for, and he was ushered at once into the sick 
 man s room. He found him stretched upon a low bed 
 stead, with a table drawn near, on which a tallow candle 
 was burning dimly, and some phials of medicine were so 
 placed as to be in reach of his hand. The invalid beck 
 oned his visitor to approach, and said, in a feeble voice, 
 
 "Take away the table and draw a chair close to my 
 side, for my voice is very feeble, and I have much to say." 
 
 Burr did as he was directed. 
 
 "Do you know me?" 
 
 "No. I do not remember that we ever met. If we 
 did, it must have been casually." 
 
 "Far from it. I am James Billings." 
 
 A sudden flush passed over the face of Burr, and he felt 
 something like a pang shoot through his heart; but his 
 voice was steady and unaltered. 
 
 " I remember such a man in the camp at Yalley Forge 
 a friend of Alexander Hamilton; but you are greatly 
 altered since then ?" 
 
 "His confederate, not his friend. In such bosoms as 
 his and mine, friendship never dwells." 
 
 He pressed his hand to his brow for a moment, and con 
 tinued, 
 
 "Listen, and do not interrupt me. The shadows of 
 death are gathering fast around me, and I have no time to 
 waste. When I am through, if I have the strength, I will 
 answer any question you may desire to ask." 
 
 Then, in a low but distinct voice, he commenced his nar 
 rative. He went over the whole of the dreadful story of 
 24 
 
278 THE RIVALS. 
 
 Adelaide Clifton s insanity and death. He revealed the 
 source of the vile slanders which had blackened the fame 
 of Margaret Moncrieffe. He told of the unscrupulous and 
 too successful efforts that had been made to prejudice the 
 mind of the commander-in-chief against his listener; of 
 the jealous vigilance with which every step of his military 
 progress had been watched; of Hamilton s daring hopes, 
 and their final frustration by the treaty of peace. The 
 whole dark story was revealed with a distinctness and 
 clearness which left no doubt upon the mind of Burr that 
 every word he uttered was true to the letter. At first he 
 tried to call up facts and circumstances within his own 
 recollection which would confirm or shake the statements 
 of the dying man; but this soon ceased, and his whole 
 attention was given to the dreadful narrative as it pro 
 gressed. Imperturbable as he generally was accustomed 
 as he had been to suppress every sign of emotion, this was 
 too much for even his iron will. It recalled all the mem 
 ories of the long gone past whatever was dark and bitter 
 in his early career rose up before him, and stung him into 
 madness. Leaning both elbows upon the bed, he buried 
 his face in his hands, while his whole frame shook with the 
 mingled emotions which were struggling in his bosom. 
 That passed away, and raising his head slowly, he in 
 quired, r 
 
 "May I ask, Mr. Billings, what has induced you to 
 make these revelations now ? Is it from remorse, or in the 
 hope of making some atonement to me ?" 
 
 " Neither, Colonel Burr neither. I am not one of those 
 weak things who shrink and tremble in presence of the 
 shadows their own actions have called about them; and to 
 you I know that atonement is impossible. If it be in my 
 nature to feel contrition, the thirst for vengeance has 
 driven it away. I would have Alexander Hamilton dis- 
 
THE EIVALS. 279 
 
 graced and degraded. In that table drawer you will find 
 a packet containing evidence enough to damn him forever 
 in the minds of his fellow-men. To you I confide it, 
 as the man he has most injured, and now most cordially 
 hates." 
 
 The hard breathing of the sick man told that he was 
 terribly agitated, and Colonel Burr paused some minutes 
 before he said, 
 
 "Vengeance I Why, what has he done to you ?" 
 " Stung my pride. Refused to recognize me in public 
 as an acquaintance, and insulted me by the offer of pecu 
 niary assistance in private. But ask me no questions. Let 
 me tell the story without interruption. After that fatal 
 peace, I saw that America was no theater for me, and I 
 embarked for France. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the 
 part I played in the bloody drama which was soon after 
 enacted in the land of olives and of vines. It suited me, 
 or rather it suited the fierce devil who reigned supreme 
 within me, and few hands were redder than mine, in a coun 
 try where all were red. At length my broken health and 
 shattered constitution, together with the loss of nearly all 
 my fortune, compelled me to seek repose. I returned to 
 America, not doubting that the friendship of Hamilton, 
 who, I was aware, had risen high in the State, and the ser 
 vices I had rendered the American army, or at least was 
 believed to have rendered it during the Revolution, would 
 insure me respect, and a certain amount of consideration 
 during the few years that would intervene before I was 
 consigned to the grave I saw open before me. I sought 
 him out, and told my story and my expectations. He 
 promptly declared that he could not receive me as an asso 
 ciate, or even recognize me as an acquaintance in public ; 
 that I was a stranger ; my services during the Revolution 
 forgotten ; and, if he was seen with me, it would lead to 
 
280 THE RIVALS. 
 
 inquiry, and subject him to questions painful to him and 
 difficult to answer; but, he added, if I had need of pecu 
 niary relief, he was willing to relieve my necessities. I 
 turned away and left him. I uttered no threat gave no 
 warning. It is my habit to strike first, and let the blow 
 prove its own warning. I intended to reveal everything 
 to you at once, but you were so much engaged in the 
 election then pending, I could find no fitting opportunity. 
 In the mean time I was stricken down by the disease that 
 in a few hours more will terminate my existence. As long 
 as there was a possibility of recovery I waited, and I did 
 not send for you until I knew the sands in my glass were 
 nearly exhausted. I have more to say, but no time to say 
 it. 1 have not ten minutes to live let me see you secure 
 the papers before I go." 
 
 Colonel Burr opened the drawer, and, taking out a care 
 fully sealed packet addressed to himself, placed it in his 
 pocket. A light, almost a smile of satisfaction, played 
 for an instant over the features of James Billings ; then 
 came a long-drawn sigh, a gasp, a shudder, and his spirit 
 winged its flight to the judgment bar of God. 
 
 Thus, with no one near him but the man he had so deeply 
 wronged, that bold, gifted, and hardened villain passed away. 
 True to the bloody instincts of his nature, his last thought 
 was vengeance his last feeling that of satisfaction at the 
 prospect of its accomplishment. 
 
 Calling some of the inmates of the house into the dead 
 man s chamber, Colonel Burr took his departure and walked 
 rapidly to his own residence. There he opened, with eager 
 hands, the packet which had been placed in his possession, 
 and read over, one by one, the papers it contained. Morn 
 ing found him still engaged in his absorbing occupation. 
 At breakfast, he contented himself with a single cup of 
 coffee j and, directing the servant to deny admittance to any 
 
THE RIVALS. 281 
 
 visitor who might call, again sought his library. With 
 hurried steps he paced the floor, his hand sometimes pressed 
 upon his forehead and sometimes thrust into his bosom, as 
 if he sought to still the throbbings of his beating heart. 
 "Great God!" he muttered, "has this cold-blooded devil 
 been for so many years blasting my prospects, blackening 
 my character, and murdering my hopes, while I, fool, dolt, 
 idiot, that I have been, have gone on in blind ignorance of 
 his machinations ? You, too, Margaret young, gifted, beau 
 tiful, and pure then you, too, he dared to approach, and 
 cover all over with the slime of calumny. And poor Ade 
 laide, his first victim, whom he consigned to a mad-house, 
 in the freshness of her youth and beauty, and who now fills 
 a lunatic s grave. Oh, God ! it is an account of crime and 
 horrors for which one life will be poor payment indeed !" 
 
 Again he paced the room in silence. Then he paused 
 in the middle of the floor, with his eyes fixed upon the car 
 pet. The furrows of agony had disappeared from his coun 
 tenance, and he wore the air of a man who was intensely 
 studying some difficult problem. Soon his thoughts took 
 the form of words. 
 
 "Yet how, how am I to reach him ? How hold him to 
 account, without revealing things it would madden me for 
 the world to know ?" 
 
 He raised his head as he spoke, and his eye rested upon 
 a paper which was lying on the table. Eagerly he ad 
 vanced, and picked it up. He had accidentally seen the 
 name of Hamilton, and now he read: "General Hamilton 
 and Judge Kent have declared, in substance, that they 
 looked upon Mr. Burr to be 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." 
 
 With a sigh of satisfaction and relief he folded the paper 
 24* 
 
282 THE RIVALS. 
 
 carefully, locked it in a drawer with the packet he had 
 received from Billings; and, repeating: "That will do, that, 
 will do 1" retired to his own chamber to sleep. To sleep ! 
 Yes, he did sleep soundly for hours. When he awoke, be 
 partook of a hearty meal, for one of his abstemious habits, 
 and, immediately afterwards, sent for his friend, Mr. Yan 
 Ness, to call the next morning and bear to the general 
 a hostile message. Accordingly, the next day, Mr. Yan 
 Ness placed in the hands of General Hamilton a note from 
 Colonel Burr, reciting the offensive passages, and conclud 
 ing with a demand for "a prompt and unqualified acknowl 
 edgment or denial" of that which was imputed to him. 
 Hamilton was taken completely by surprise. He had used, 
 on many occasions, harsher phrases, and they had been per 
 mitted to pass unnoticed. He hesitated, pleaded important 
 business, and it was not until two days afterwards that he 
 addressed a long communication to Colonel Burr, whose 
 obvious purport was to evade the responsibility of either 
 denial or acknowledgment of the language imputed to him. 
 
 Colonel Burr promptly responded that the letter was 
 unsatisfactory; that he could find in it "nothing of that 
 sincerity and delicacy" which Hamilton professed to value, 
 and concluded: "Your letter has furnished me with new 
 reasons for requiring a definite reply." 
 
 To this General Hamilton returned no written reply, but 
 submitted to Mr. Yan Ness certain propositions as a basis 
 of adjustment. Colonel Burr prepared a letter of instruc 
 tions to govern Mr. "Van Ness in the negotiations; but, 
 wearied by the delays which had already occurred, and 
 fearful that other delays might be interposed, he resolved 
 upon a step that he knew must make a meeting inevitable. 
 About nine o clock at night, after muffling his face so as to 
 prevent recognition, he walked to General Hamilton s house. 
 
 To a question as to whether General Hamilton was in, 
 
THE RIVALS. 283 
 
 the servant who opened the door answered in the affirma 
 tive. 
 
 "Tell him," said Burr, "that a gentleman wishes to see 
 him for one moment upon urgent business, and as I have no 
 time to spare, he will greatly oblige me by walking to the 
 door." 
 
 General Hamilton immediately came out, and Colonel 
 Burr, pulling the door after him so as to exclude the light, 
 and prevent any one within from overhearing their conver 
 sation, said in his natural voice, 
 
 " General Hamilton, do you know me ?" 
 
 "Colonel Burr!" replied Hamilton, in surprise. 
 
 "Yes, sir; and I have called to tell you that I did not 
 seek satisfaction from you on account of the petty slanders 
 contained in the pamphlet of Dr. Cooper, however fully you 
 may have authorized their publication. But a few nights 
 ago I sat by the death-couch of James Billings, and heard 
 him go over the whole secret history of the past. He told 
 how Adelaide Clifton was maddened and murdered ; how 
 the reputation of Margaret Moncrieffe had withered under 
 the baleful influence of your poisonous breath ; how you 
 had pursued me with causeless, bitter, and remorseless hate ; 
 and he placed in my hand documents to prove the truth of 
 his story. I did not choose to make these the ground of a 
 message to you, because I did not wish to furnish the gos 
 siping world with all the revolting particulars of that tale 
 of horrors. I sought, and found another pretext. And 
 now, sir, you will understand how useless it is to submit 
 propositions of adjustment, and what consequences will be 
 likely to flow to yourself from a refusal to accede to my de 
 mand. Good night, sir. I hope to meet you once more, 
 and but once." 
 
 He turned and walked away. Hamilton stood as if petri 
 fied. It was long before he shook off the numbing torpor 
 
284 THE RIVALS. 
 
 that seized upon every limb ; and when he re-entered his 
 own door, the presage of coming doom weighed heavily 
 upon him. 
 
 After this some correspondence was carried on between 
 the parties, but it was evident it could have but one term 
 ination. It was ended by a peremptory challenge from 
 Colonel Burr, and its acceptance by Hamilton. The day 
 of the final meeting was, however, postponed, at the request 
 of General Hamilton, to enable him to settle up his busi 
 ness and make such preparations as he deemed needful in 
 the event of his fall. The consciousness of the deep 
 wrongs he had inflicted upon Colonel Burr through a long 
 series of years had its effect even upon his daring nature, 
 and he seems from the first to have had a presentiment that 
 his last hour was approaching. Weehawken was the place 
 selected for the fatal encounter ; and, according to previous 
 arrangement, Colonel Burr and his second were first on the 
 ground. 
 
 When Hamilton arrived he found his antagonist, with 
 his coat off, carelessly breaking branches from the under 
 wood. The two principals exchanged salutations; but 
 Burr observed that the eye of Hamilton fell when it met 
 his own, which was glowing with all the deadly hatred that 
 years of outrage, calumny, and wrong had engendered. 
 Hamilton won both the choice of positions and the word. 
 The pistols were loaded, the two men stepped to their 
 places, announced themselves ready, and the word was 
 given. Both pistols were discharged nearly together. 
 Burr s a little before his adversary s. Hamilton sprang 
 convulsively up, and then fell heavily forward on his face. 
 His second raised him, and the surgeon was immediately 
 by his side. To him he said: "This is a mortal wound;" 
 and sank into insensibility. 
 
 Colonel Burr, who was unhurt, was led away to the boat 
 
THE KIVALS. 285 
 
 by Mr. Van Ness, and the two rowed at once to Richmond 
 Hill. 
 
 Thus, under the heights of Weehawken, the long rivalry 
 of Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton had its bloody 
 ending. 
 
 Justice is seldom weighed by human judgment in equal 
 scales. The victor, on that fatal day, labored under peculiar 
 disadvantages. The foul wrongs which Hamilton had com 
 mitted, the deep duplicity of his character, and the bitter 
 malignity of his nature were known only to his slayer, and 
 that slayer was one from whose lips no secret ever passed. 
 The natural feeling excited in a great party by the loss of 
 its leader, was enhanced by sympathy for the family of the 
 dead, and fostered by reckless misrepresentations of the 
 living. Calm and self possessed, Aaron Burr breasted the 
 storm. He might have forgiven his own grievances, he 
 might have hesitated to dye his hand in human blood for 
 any injury done to himself; but the murderer of Adelaide 
 Clifton and the slanderer of Margaret Moncriefife was en 
 titled to no mercy, and his fate called forth no regrets. 
 Long years afterwards he stood upon the spot where Ham 
 ilton fell. Time had bowed his form and dimmed his eye; 
 but when the recollections of the 10th of July, 1804, came 
 over him, his body swelled beyond the proportions of age, 
 and his eye burned with all the fire of his early days. 
 
 "He wronged me," he said, "and I forgave him! He 
 wronged her, and I slew him ! If twenty lives had centred 
 in his single body, it would have been a poor atonement ! 
 When I saw him fall headlong to the ground, a weight 
 seemed lifted from my breast, and a peaceful tranquillity 
 settled there I never could have known while the same 
 earth sustained us both. He has gone long ago to render 
 his account at that judgment bar before which I too must 
 soon appear. Face to face, in presence of the God who 
 
286 THE RIVALS. 
 
 must pronounce our several dooms, I shall say that he de* 
 served the death he received at my hands; and never, for 
 one moment, has a thought of repentance obtruded itself 
 upon my soul !" 
 
 Reader, the story of the "RIVALS" is at an end. If it 
 meets with your favor, before long another will follow it, 
 recording the after history of that remarkable man whose 
 whole life was blackened by calumny and imbittered by 
 persecution, and around whose grave still linger the harpies 
 whose presence is pollution, and whose touch is corrup 
 tion. 
 
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