cover his popularity by being a candidate for the governorship of New York, but was defeated by Morgan Lewis. In this contest Alexander Hamilton had put forth his utmost energies against Burr. Though the relations of these political leaders had remained outwardly friendly, they had long been rivals, and Hamilton had not hesitated to express in private his distrust of Burr, and to balk several of his ambitious projects. In the gubernatorial canvass Hamilton had written concerning his rival in a very severe manner, and some of his expressions having got into the newspapers, Burr immediately fastened upon them as ground for a challenge. A long correspondence ensued, in which Hamilton vainly sought to avoid extremities. At length the challenge was accepted, and the parties met on the bank of the Hudson, at Weehawken, N. J., at seven o'clock A. M., 7 July, 1804. At the first fire Hamilton fell mortally wounded. But Burr's shot was more fatal to himself than to his foe; he left that “field of honor” a ruined man. The tragedy aroused an unprecedented excitement, before which Burr felt it wise to fly. The coroner's inquest having returned a verdict of murder, he escaped to South Carolina and took refuge in the home of his daughter. Though an indictment for murder was obtained against him, the excitement subsided, and he was left unmolested. After a season he ventured to Washington, and completed his term of service as vice-president. Though his political prospects were now blasted and his name execrated, his bold and resolute spirit did not break. Courage and fortitude were the cardinal virtues of his moral code, and his restless mind was already employed with new and vast projects. Early in 1805 he turned his course toward the great west, then a new world. From Pittsburg he floated in a boat, specially built for him, down to New Orleans, stopping at many points, and often receiving enthusiastic attention. After some time spent in the southwest, he slowly returned to Washington, where he sought from the president an appointment suitable to his dignity. Foiled in this effort, he turned more earnestly to his mysterious western projects. His purpose seems to have been to collect a body of followers and conquer Texas — perhaps Mexico — establishing there a republic of which he should be the head. With this he associated the hope that the western states, ultimately falling away from the union, would cast in their lot with him, making New Orleans the capital of the new nation. As a rendezvous and refuge for his followers, he actually bought a vast tract of land on Washita river, for which the sum of $40,000 was to be paid. It was a wild scheme, and, if not technically treasonable, was so near to it as to make him a public enemy. Events had advanced rapidly, and Burr's plans were nearly ripe for execution, when the president, who had not been ignorant of what was maturing, issued a proclamation, 27 Oct., 1806, denouncing the enterprise and warning the people against it. The project immediately collapsed. On 14 Jan., 1807, Burr was arrested in Mississippi territory, and, having escaped, was again arrested in Alabama, whence he was conveyed to Richmond, Va. Here was held the memorable trial for treason, beginning 22 May, 1807, and lasting, with some interruptions, for six months. In the array of distinguished counsel, William Wirt was pre-eminent for the prosecution and Luther Martin for the defence. Burr himself took an active part in the case. On 1 Sept. the jury returned a verdict of not guilty on the indictment for treason, and some time afterward the prisoner was acquitted, on technical grounds, of the charge of misdemeanor. Though Burr was now free, his good name was not restored by the issue of the trial, and he soon sailed for England, still animated by new schemes and hopes. After various adventures in that country, he was expelled as an “embarrassing” person, and went to Sweden. Having spent some time in Copenhagen and various cities of Germany, he reached Paris in February, 1810. Here, kept under government surveillance, and refused permission to return to the United States, he was reduced to the severest pecuniary straits. Returning again to England, he was obliged to remain there in desperate extremities for a year and a half. At last he got away in the ship “Aurora,” and reached Boston in May, 1812. Disguised under the name of Arnot, as well as with wig, whiskers, and strange garments, the returning exile entered the city in a most humiliating plight. The government prosecutions still hung over his head, and some of his creditors had executions against him, which might throw him into a prison. He ventured to New York, however, reaching that place four years after leaving it. He soon opened an office in Nassau street, old friends rallied around him, and the future began to brighten somewhat, when he was stunned by the information that his only grandchild, Theodosia's son, aged eleven, was dead. A still more crushing blow soon came. The daughter, who was his idol, perished at sea while on a voyage from Charleston to New York in January, 1813. Burr was now fifty-seven years old. Shunned by society, though with a considerable practice, he lived on for twenty-three years. At the age of seventy-eight he married Madame Jumel, widow of a French merchant, who had a considerable fortune. The union soon proved unhappy, owing to Burr's reckless use of his wife's money, and they finally separated, though not divorced. In his last days Burr was dependent on the charity of a Scotch woman, a friend of former years, for a home. He died at Port Richmond, Staten Island, and his remains lie, according to his request, in the cemetery at Princeton, near those of his honored father and grandfather. In person, Burr was small, often being spoken of as “little Burr,” but his appearance and manners were fascinating. In his case the finest gifts of nature and fortune were spoiled by unsound moral principles and the absence of all genuine convictions. His habits were licentious. He was a master of intrigue, though to little purpose. He was a respectable lawyer and speaker, but lacked the qualities of a statesman. Dauntless resolution and cool self-possession never forsook him. On the morning of his duel with Hamilton he was found by a friend in a sound sleep. Though a skeptic, he was not a scoffer. In his last hours he said of the holy Scriptures: “They are the most perfect system of truth the world has ever seen.” —
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His daughter, Theodosia, b. in New York city in 1783; d. at sea in January, 1813, was one of the most highly accomplished and brilliant of American women. Her father, to whom she was an object of pride as well as passionate affection, devoted himself to informing her mind and training her character in accordance with his own ideal of womanhood. In her tenth year she read Horace and Terence in the original Latin, spoke French, and was studying the Greek grammar. He was as careful of her physical as of her mental education, and sought to develop the independence of thought and self-reliance that was universally discouraged at the time in the training of girls. After her mother's death,
