child into the saddle, and marched on. Like many another man in American history, Burr felt at last the physical strength of the patient and long-suffering government which he had so persistently insulted, outraged, and betrayed.
Not until the end of March, 1807, did Burr reach Richmond; and in the mean while a whole session of Congress had passed, revolution after revolution had taken place in Europe, and a new series of political trials had begun for President Jefferson's troubled Administration. The conspiracy of Burr was a mere episode, which had little direct connection with foreign or domestic politics, and no active popular support in any quarter. The affairs of the country at large felt hardly a perceptible tremor in the midst of the excitement which convulsed New Orleans; and the general public obstinately refused to care what Burr was doing, or to believe that he was so insane as to expect a dissolution of the Union. In spite of the President's proclamation of Nov. 27, 1806, no special interest was roused, and even the Congress which met a few days later, Dec. 1, 1806, at first showed indifference to Burr and his affairs.
If this was a matter for blame, the fault certainly lay with the President, who had hitherto refused to whisper a suspicion either of Burr's loyalty or of the patriotism which Jefferson believed to characterize Louisiana, the Mississippi Territory, and Tennessee. Even the proclamation had treated Burr's enterprise as one directed wholly against Spain. The Annual