and acquitted, but they were going to take him again, and "he was going to flee from oppression." The men did as he advised; many of them "dispersed themselves through the territory and supplied it with school masters, singing masters, dancing masters, clerks, tavern keepers and doctors"-so Mr. Claiborne, the historian of Mississippi, lists the professions. Pathetic young men. As the result of a spurious note alleged to have been addressed to them by the Colonel after his final disappearance-although clumsily enough the date given was on a day prior to the convening of the Grand Jury-some of them were arrested at Natchez; but they were soon released, with the exception of Mr. Blennerhassett, Mr. Tyler, Mr. Floyd and a Mr. Ralston. These were held for trial, but in April they were in turn released, for good, as they no doubt imagined. To the very end, most of them had not the slightest idea what it was all about..

7

Colonel Burr returned to Windy Hill Manor; one of Colonel Osmun's best horses was waiting for him, and a friend, Chester Ashley, who was to go with him. They were bound for the coast, where the Colonel probably hoped to take ship. He was in disguise, "in a shabby suit of homespun with an old white hat flapped over his face," according to John Randolph who heard about it later.

They started, in the night, but the Colonel had to stop, wasting the precious moments, almost until daylight. At the door of Madeline Price's cottage at Half Way Hill, not far from Major Guion's, begging

her to follow him. One does not hesitate to record the tradition of a whole countryside, vouched for by Mr. Claiborne himself. It was a vine-covered

cottage, it seems, the residence of a once well-to-do widow; and her daughter, Madeline, was "a miracle of beauty, all that the old masters have pictured the divine Madonna." In the midst of all his troubles, the Colonel had found time to fall in love with her and "the maiden had given him her heart." He implored her, on that last night, to be his wife, to accompany him on his desperate journey, but she refused. He was "compelled to proceed, but promised to return, and carried with him the covenant and pledge of the beautiful Madeline. Fortunes and the homage of devoted hearts were laid at her feet; but the Maid of Half Way Hill remained true to her absent lover." But he never returned, and finally he wrote, releasing her from her promise; and in time she married, and departed from the cottage.

Madeline, the Maid of Half Way Hill.

8

It was hard going through the woods, the streams were swollen, and they lost their way. Late on the night of February 18, they stopped at a house in Wakefield, Washington County-now in Alabamato ask the road to Colonel Hinson's, to whom the man in the white hat had a letter of introduction. A very tall gentleman called Nicholas Perkins, a lawyer of that place, saw the eyes under the flapping white brim. And just as in the Argonne, on their flight to Varennes, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette found

the busybody Drouet to recognize them and gallop across county to intercept them at the next stage, so at Wakefield Colonel Burr found Nicholas Perkins.

Mr. Perkins summoned the Sheriff, Theodore Brightwell, and perhaps reminded him of the Governor's two thousand dollar reward of which he was aware. At all events, these two citizens followed after the riders, and overtook them at Colonel Hinson's eight miles away. The Colonel was not at home, but Mrs. Hinson was serving supper to the travellers. The Sheriff went in, but after a long while the Sheriff did not come out, and the crafty Mr. Perkins cantered off through the rain to Fort Stoddert, where he told his story to Lieutenant Gaines. A man in a white hat who looked like Aaron Burr was at Colonel Hinson's, and the Sheriff was not doing his duty. He, Nicholas Perkins, had done his duty. The Lieutenant, who had received the proclamations from New Orleans and from the President, proceeded to do what he conceived to be his.

Early the next morning, on February 19, he took a file of soldiers and rode back with Mr. Perkins towards Colonel Hinson's. Some four miles from the house they met three horsemen-Mr. Ashley, the man in the white hat and the Sheriff who was quite evidently acting as their guide, having been, it seemed, completely won over by the fugitives. In the name of the United States Government, Lieutenant Gaines demanded, was this Aaron Burr? The man in the white hat replied that he had no right to question him, but he finally admitted his identity. He was immediately placed under arrest, on the authority of the presidential proclamation which did

not mention Aaron Burr by name, and which was not directed against gentlemen riding quietly through the woods. Mr. Ashley and the Sheriff were not molested, and the cavalcade returned to Fort Stoddert.

"I was arrested a few days since," Colonel Burr wrote Charles Biddle, on February 22, "by a party of the United States troops. This proceeding

is the more extraordinary as the grand jury. acquitted me in the completest manner of all unlawful practices or designs. The report of this grand jury also censured the conduct of the government and for this reason I am told that the printers have not thought it discreet to publish that report entire. The pretence of having forfeited a recognizance, though sanctioned by the proclamation of the Governor, is utterly false. The details of the prosecutions against me cannot be given-they are beyond all example and in defiance of all law. What

I write must be inspected by an officer of the guard." And Captain Gaines-he had been promoted on February 28-was not so sure about his military arrest now. The people along the Tombigbee were criticizing his action, and protesting to the Government; and it was feared at the fort that Mr. Ashley would raise the countryside and effect a rescue. "They will assuredly find the inhabitants such as they could wish. the Captain reported to General Wilkinson on March 4. "The plans of Burr are now spoken of in terms of approbation, and Burr in terms of sympathy and regard. I am convinced if Burr had remained here a week longer the consequences would have been of the most serious nature.

. .