New-Haven, March, 1772.
By a poor candle, with poor eyes and a poorer brain, I sit down to introduce a long wished-for correspondence. You see how solicitous I am to preserve old connexions; or, rather, to begin new ones. Relationship, by the fashionable notions of those large towns, which usurp a right to lead and govern our opinions, is dwindled to a formal nothing—a mere shell of ceremony. Our ancestors, whose honesty and simplicity (though different from the wise refinements of modern politeness) were perhaps as deserving of imitation as the insincere coldness of the present generation,cousin'dit to the tenth degree of kindred. Though this was extending the matter to a pitch of extravagance, yet it was certainly founded upon a natural, rational principle. Who are so naturally our friends as those who are born such? I defy a New-Yorker, though callous'd over with city politeness, to be otherwise than pleased with a view of ancient hospitality to relations, when exercised by a person of good-breeding and a genteel education.
Now, say you, what has this to do with the introduction of a correspondence? You shall know directly, sir. TheEdwardseshave been always remarkable for this fondness for their relations. If you have the least inclination to prove yourself a true descendant of that respectable stock, you cannot fail of answering me very soon. This (were I disposed) I could demonstrate by algebra and syllogisms in a twinkling; but hope you will believe me without either. I never asked for many connexions in this way; and was never neglected but once, and that by a Jersey gentleman, to whom I wrote and received no answer. I hope the disease is not epidemical, and that you have not determined against any communication with the rest of the world. It was a mortification, I confess; for I am too proud to be denied a request, though unreasonable, as many of mine are—therefore, I insist upon an answer, at least, and as many more as you can find in your heart to give me; promising, in return, as many by tale, though without a large profit. I shall not warrant their quality.
Your sincere friend,
Newport, May 15th, 1772.
It is a little strange to me that I have not heard any thing of you since your examination. I don't know but you are dissatisfied, since you are so backward to write; however, I will, if possible, keep such thoughts out of my mind till I hear from you in particular. If you are let down a peg lower, you may tell me of it. If you are permitted to live in college, you may tell me of it; and if you are turned out, you may tell me of it. If you passed examination, and have a syllogism to speak at commencement,if you are able to make it, I suppose you may tell me of that likewise; or, if you are first in the class, you may tell me, if you will only do it softly; indeed, you may tell me any thing, for I profess to be your friend. Therefore, since you can trust me so far, I expect you will now write, and let me know a little how matters are at present in college. In particular, let me know the state of the society (Cliosophic); and if I owe any thing to it, do you pay it,and charge it to your humble servant.
I hope you will write the first opportunity, as I trust you have got some very good news to tell me concerning the college in general, and yourself in particular. I have nothing particular to write. It is very pleasant to me where I am at present.
The study of divinity is agreeable;—far more so than any other study whatever would be to me. I hope to see the time when you will feel it to be your duty to go into the same study with a desire for the ministry. Remember, that was the prayer of your dear father and mother, and is the prayer of your friends to this time—that you should step forth into his place, and make it manifest that you are a friend to Heaven, and that you have a taste for its glory. But this, you are sensible, can never be the case if you remain in a state of nature. Therefore, improve the present and future moments to the best of purposes, as knowing the time will soon be upon you when you will wish that in living you had lived right, and acted rationally and like an immortal.
Your friend,
In 1806-7 great excitement was produced, in consequence of Colonel Burr writing in cipher to General Wilkinson, In this particular he seems to have had peculiar notions. However innocent his correspondence, he was, apparently, desirous at all times of casting around it a veil of mystery. The same trait was conspicuous in his political movements and intercourse. This has been one of the weak points in Colonel Burr's character. He was considered a mysterious man; and what was not understood by the vulgar, was pronounced selfish or ambitious intrigue. Even his best friends were, often dissatisfied with him on this account. Acting upon this principle of mystery at every period of his life, he has corresponded with one or more individuals in cipher. While yet a student in college, the letters between his sister and himself are frequently written in cipher. So, also, much of his correspondence with his most intimate friend, Matthias Ogden, and with others in 1774 and 1775, is in cipher. Many of these letters, thus written, are now in existence. To those, therefore, acquainted with the character and peculiarities of Colonel Burr, the fact of his writing a letter in cipher would not be considered as any thing extraordinary; because it was a habit which he had adopted and pursued for more than thirty years preceding the period when this excitement was thus produced.
Before Burr left Princeton, and while lie was indulging himself in pleasures and amusements, he accidentally visited a billiard-table. He engaged in play, and, although he had never before seen the game, he was successful, and won about half a Joe. On returning home with his gains, he reflected on the incident with great mortification, and determined never again to play; which determination he adhered to through life. Colonel Burr not only abstained from playing at billiards, but with equal pertinacity he refused to play at any game for the purpose of acquiring money.
Although he had been somewhat tranquillized by his conversation with Dr. Witherspoon on the subject of the awakening in college in 1772, yet he was not entirely at ease. In consequence of which he came to a resolution not to enter upon the concerns of life until this point was more satisfactorily settled in his own mind. He concluded, therefore, to visit and consult the Rev. Joseph Bellamy, a venerable and devoted friend of his late father, and to whom he was known by reputation.
Joseph Bellamy, D.D., was an eminent preacher and theological writer of Connecticut, and intimate friend of Colonel Burr's relative, the famous Jonathan Edwards, with whose particular opinion he fully agreed. He was celebrated in his days, before the establishment of theological seminaries, as an instructor of young men preparing for the ministry. The late Governor Wolcott used to speak of him with the highest respect for his talent and moderation. He died in 1790.
In the autumn of 1773, Burr visited him at Bethlehem, in Connecticut, and was received by his aged friend in a most kind and affectionate manner. His advice, and the use of his library, were promptly tendered. Burr commenced a course of reading on religious topics, and was thus occupied from sixteen to eighteen hours a day. His habits were those of great abstinence, and a recluse. His conversations with the reverend divine were encouraged and indulged in with freedom, and his inquiries answered. Here he remained until the spring of 1774, when, to use his own language, he "came to the conclusion that the road to Heaven was open to all alike." He, however, from that time forward, avoided most studiously all disputation on the subject of religion.
An impression has been created that Côlonel Burr was placed by his guardian under Dr. Bellamy, for the purpose of studying divinity. This is an error. His visit to the Rev. Dr. was not the result of a conference or communication with any person whatever; but the volition of his own mind, and for the purpose already stated. In fact, after Burr entered college, his studies and his future pursuits in life appear to have been left entirely under his own control. Whether this arose from indolence on the part of his guardian, or from pertinacity in young Burr, is uncertain; perhaps a little of both, united with the great confidence which his uncle reposed in his judgment and talents.
In the spring of 1774, while he yet resided at Dr. Bellamy's, he contemplated studying law; but was undecided whether he should read with Pierpont Edwards, or with his brother-in-law, Tappan Reeve, and upon this subject he wrote his guardian, who replies, in a letter dated
"Stockbridge, February 11th, 1774.
"Whether you study law with Mr. Reeve or your uncle Pierpont is a matter of indifference with me. I would have you act your pleasure therein. I shall write to your uncle upon it, but yet treat it as a matter of doubt. Your board I shall settle with Dr. Bellamy myself. I will send you cash to pay for your horse very soon. You may expect it in the forepart of March. If I had known of this want of yours sooner, I would have paid it before this.
"Your affectionate uncle,
In May, 1774, he left the Rev. Mr. Bellamy's, and went to the house of his brother-in-law, Tappan Reeve, where his time was occupied in reading, principally history; but especially those portions of it which related to wars, and battles, and sieges, which tended to inflame his natural military ardour. The absorbing topics of taxation and the rights of the people were agitating the then British colonies from one extreme to the other. These subjects, therefore, could not pass unnoticed by a youth of the inquiring mind and ardent feelings of Burr. Constitutional law, and the relative rights of the crown and the colonists, were examined with all the acumen which he possessed, and he became a Whig from reflection and conviction, as well as from feeling.
At this period, Burr's most intimate and confidential correspondent was Matthias Ogden, of New-Jersey, subsequently Colonel Ogden, a gallant and distinguished revolutionary officer. He writes to Burr, dated
"Elizabethtown, August 9th, 1774.
"I received yours by Mr. Beach, dated Sunday. I am not a little pleased that you have the doctor (Bellamy) so completely under your thumb. Last Saturday I went a crabbing. Being in want of a thole-pin, I substituted a large jackknife in its stead, with the blade open and sticking up. It answered the purpose of rowing very well; but it seems that was not the only purpose it had to answer; for, after we had been some time on the flats, running on the mud, as the devil would have it, in getting into the boat I threw my leg directly across the edge of the knife, which left a decent mark of nearly four inches long, and more than one inch deep. It was then up anchor and away. Our first port was Dayton's ferry, where Dr. Bennet happened to be, but without his apparatus for sewing, to the no small disadvantage of me, who was to undergo the operation. Mrs. Dayton, however, furnished him with a large darning-needle, which, as soon as I felt going through my skin, I thought was more like a gimlet boring into me; but, with the help of a glass of wine, I grinned and bore it, until he took a few stitches in the wound. So much for crabbing.
"I was at New-York about a fortnight since, on my way to Jamaica, Long Island. The object of this journey you understand. I stayed at Mr. Willett's three days, and then went to Colonel Morris's, and spent two days there very agreeably. Nothing occurred worth relating, unless it be some transactions of the greatest fool I ever knew.
"Mr. Elliot, collector of New-York, Mr. and Mrs. Delancey and daughter, dined there on Sunday. Witherspoon [1] was led in with a large bag tied to his hair, that reached down to the waistband of his breeches, and a brass locket hanging from his neck below his stomach. He was turned round and round by each of the company: was asked where he got that very neat bag, and the valuable locket? He readily answered, they were a present from Lady Kitty, who was violently in love with him, and he expected to marry her in a short time. He is so credulous that any child might impose on him. I told him that I came from Lord Stirling's, and that he might write by me to Lady Kitty. Accordingly, he wrote a long letter and gave me, which I opened there, and, by desire of Colonel Morris, answered it, when I got to New-York, in Lady Kitty's name, informing him that he must tell Mr. Morris to provide himself with another tutor, as she intended marrying him without fail the first of September, which I suppose he will as sincerely believe as he does his existence.
"Yours affectionately,
Litchfield, August 17th, 1774.
Before I proceed any further, let me tell you that, a few days ago, a mob of several hundred persons gathered at Barrington, and tore down the house of a man who was suspected of being unfriendly to the liberties of the people; broke up the court, then sitting at that place, &c. As many of the rioters belonged to this colony, and the Superior Court was then sitting at this place, the sheriff was immediately despatched to apprehend the ringleaders. He returned yesterday with eight prisoners, who were takenwithout resistance. But this minute there is entering the town on horseback, with great regularity, about fifty men, armed each with a white club; and I observe others continually dropping in. I shall here leave a blank, to give you (perhaps in heroics) a few sketches of my unexampled valour, should they proceed to hostilities; and, should they not, I can then tell you what I would have done.
The abovementionedsneaks all gave bonds for their appearance, to stand a trial at the next court for committing a riot.
Yours affectionately,
On the 11th of September, 1774, he again writes Ogden:—
I wrote you last Thursday, and enclosed one of the songs you desired, which was all I could then obtain. Miss ——-, the fountain of melody, furnished me with it. I knew that she, and no one else, had the notes of the enclosed song. I told her I should be glad to copy them for a most accomplished young gentleman in the Jerseys. She engaged to bring them the first time she came in town, for she lives about two miles from here. I this day received it, precisely as you have it. You may depend upon its being the work of her own hands. If this don't deserve an acrostic, I don't know—sense, beauty, modesty, and music. Matter plenty.
Pray tell me whether your prayers are heard, and a good old saint, though a little in your way, is yet in Heaven. But remember, Matt., you can never be without plague, and when one gets out of the way, a worse, very often, supplies its place; so, I tell you again, be content, and hope for better times.
I am determined never to have any dealings with your friend Cupid until I know certainly how matters will turn out with you: for should some lucky devil step in between my friend and——, which kind Heaven grant may never be; in such a case, I say, I would choose to be untied, and then, you know, the wide world is before us.
Yours sincerely,
Burr again writes him, dated
Litchfield, February 2d, 1775.
I sent you a packet by N. Hazard, and from that time to this I have not had the most distant prospect of conveying a letter to you. However, I have written a number of scrawls, the substance of which you shall now have.
The times with me are pretty much as usual; not so full of action as I could wish; and I find this propensity to action is very apt to lead me into scrapes. T. B. has been here since I wrote you last; he came very unexpectedly. You will conclude we had some confab about Miss ——-. We had but little private chat, and the whole of that little was about her. He would now and then insinuate slyly what a clever circumstance it would be to have such a wife, with her fortune.
T. BURR, [2] by his kindness to me, has certainly laid me under obligations, which it would be the height of ingratitude in me ever to forget; but I cannot conceive it my duty to be in the least influenced by these in the present case. Were I to conform to his inclination, it could give him pleasure or pain only as the consequence was good or bad to me. The sequel might be such as would inevitably cause him the most bitter anguish; and, in all probability, would be such if I should consult his fancy instead of my judgment. And who can be a judge of these consequences but myself? But even supposing things could be so situated that, by gratifying him, I should certainly be the means of his enjoying some permanent satisfaction, and should subject myself to a bare probability of misery as permanent, would it not stagger the most generous soul to think of sacrificing a whole life's comfort to the caprice of a friend? But this is a case that can never happen, unless that friend has some mean and selfish motive, such as I know T. Burr has not. I can never believe that too great deference to the judgment of another, in these matters, can arise from any greatness of soul. It appears to me the genuine offspring of meanness. I suppose you are impatient for my reply to these importunities. I found my tongue and fancy too cramped to say much. However, I rallied my thoughts and set forth, as well as I was able, the inconveniences and uncertainty attending such an affair. I am determined to be very blunt the next time the matter is urged.
I have now and then an affair of petty gallantry, which might entertain you if you were acquainted with the different characters I have to deal with; but, without that, they would be very insipid.
I have lately engaged in a correspondence of a peculiar nature. I write once, and sometimes twice a week, to a lady who knows not that she ever received a line from me. The letters, on both sides, are mostly sentimental. Those of the lady are doubtless written with more sincerity, and less reserve, than if she knew I had any concern with them. Mr. ——- received a letter from Miss ——-. He is very little versed in letter-writing, and engaged, or rather permitted, me to answer it, not thinking thereby to embark in a regular correspondence, but supposing the matter would thus end. I have had many scruples of conscience about this affair, though I really entered into it not with any sinister view, but purely to oblige——. I should be glad to know your opinion of it. You will readily observe the advantage I have over ——-. He is of an unsuspicious make, and this gives me an opportunity (if I had any inclination) to insert things which might draw from her secrets she would choose I should be ignorant of. But I would suffer crucifixion rather than be guilty of such an unparalleled meanness. On the contrary, I have carefully avoided saying any thing which might have the least tendency to make her write what she would be unwilling I should see.
Adieu.
On the 12th of March, 1775, Burr writes Ogden:—
I have received your and Aaron's [3] letters. I was a little disappointed that you did not send an acrostic; but I still entertain some secret hope that the muse (who, you say, has taken her flight) will shortly return, and, by a new and stricter intimacy, more than repay the pains of this momentary absence. Your happiness, Matt., is really almost the only present thing I can contemplate with any satisfaction; though I, like other fools, view futurity with partiality enough to make it very desirable; but I must first throw reason aside, and leave fancy uncontrolled. In some of these happy freaks I have endeavoured to take as agreeable a sleigh-ride as you had to Goshen; but I find it impracticable, unless you will make one of the party; for my imagination, when most romantic, is not lively or delusive enough to paint an object that can, in my eyes, atone for your absence. From this you will conclude that the news you heard of me at Princeton is groundless. It is so far from being true, that scarce two persons can fix on the same lady to tease me with. However, I would not have you think that this diversity of opinion arises from the volatility of my constitution, or that I am in love with every new or pretty face I see. But, I hope, you know me too well to need a caution of this nature. I am very glad to hear of ——-'s downfall. But, with all that fellow's low-lived actions, I don't more sincerely despise him than I do certain other narrow-hearted scoundrels you have among you. Mean as he is, he appears to me to have (or rather to have had) more of something at bottom that bordered on honour, than some who will pass through life respected by many. I say this, not so much to raise him above the common standard of d—ls, as to sink them below it. My idea of a d—l is composed more of malice than of meanness.
Since I commenced this letter I have passed through a scene entirely new. Now, as novelty is the chief and almost only ingredient of happiness here below, you'll fancy I have had some lucky turn. I think it quite the reverse, I assure you. I have serious thoughts of leaving the matter here, that you may be on the rack of curiosity for a month or so. Would not this be truly satanic? What would be your conjectures in such a case? The first, Iguess, that I was sadly in love, and had met with some mortifying rebuff.
What would you say if I should tell you that ——- had absolutely professed love for me? Now I can see you with both hands up—eyes and mouth wide open; but don't be over scrupulous. Trust me, I tell you the whole truth. I cannot at present give you any further particulars about the matter, than that I felt foolish enough, and gave as cautious a turn to it as I could, for which I am destined to suffer her future hostility.
Last week I received a letter from T. Edwards, which I fear may prove fatal to the dear project of the 15th of April. He intends to be hereabout the middle of that month. Supposing he should come here the 13th of April, what could I do? Run off and leave him? Observe the uncertainty of all sublunary things. I, who a few months ago was as uncontrolled in my motions as the lawless meteors, am now (sad reverse!) at the beck of a person forty miles off. But all this lamentation, if well considered, is entirely groundless, for (between you and me) I intend to see you at Elizabethtown this spring. But even supposing I should fail in this—where is this sad reverse of fortune?—this lamentable change? Is it not a very easy matter to fix on another time, and write you word by T. Edwards?
I have struck up a correspondence with J. Bellamy (son to the famous divine of that name). He has very lately settled in the practice of the law at Norwich, a place about seventy miles S. E. of this. He is one of the cleverest fellows I have to deal with. Sensible, a person of real humour, and is an excellent judge of mankind, though he has not had opportunity of seeing much of the world. Adieu.
Norwich, March 14th, 1775.
To do justice to circumstances, which you know are of the greatest importance in order to form a true estimate of what a person either says or does, it is indispensably necessary for me to tell you that it not only rains very generously, but that it is as dark as it was before light was created. It would be ridiculous to suppose that you need information that nothing but the irresistible desire of writing could possibly keep me at home this evening.
I had received your February favour only just time to laugh at it once, when the melancholy news that Betsy Devotion, of Windham, was very dangerously sick, banished every joyous thought from my heart. This Betsy you may remember to have heard mentioned near the name of Natty Huntington, who died last December; and a very angel she was too, I assure you. You see I speak of her in thepastsense, for she has left us; and her friends are sure she is not less an angelnowthan she was ten days ago. Very certain I am, that if a natural sweetness of disposition can scale Heaven's walls, she went over like a bird. But I believe we must leaveherand all the rest of our departed friends to be sentenced by a higher Board.
"Transports last not in the human heart;But all with transports soon agree to part."
If nature, in spite of us, did not take care of herself, we could not but be perfectly wretched. Philosophy is the emptiest word in the dictionary. And you may observe, wherever you find them, that those persons who profess to place all their reliance upon it, under every affecting circumstance of life, do but make use of the term as a mask for an iron heart. "But" (as the devil said on another occasion) "put forth thine hand, and touch his bone, and his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face." They have as little fortitude as anybody when sufferings pinch home upon them.
Thus have I relieved a heart that perhaps felt a little too full; and if it is at the expense of myhead, I have nevertheless the consolation that it will be received only as the overflowings of my present feelings.
"When and where shall I see you again?" somebody once asked me. The Lord only knows. Perhaps at the election at Hartford. If we can meetthere—there will be time for notice. But, happen as it may, be assured that I am your most sincere friend,
"Stick my compliments in for him," says Hannah Phelps, a jolly girl of fourteen.
Elizabethtown, March 18th, 1775.
Since we last saw each other, the 15th of April has been my mark, but the receipt of yours of the 12th has blotted it from my memory, for which nothing could atone but the expectation of seeing you here nearly as soon.
I read with pleasure your love intrigues; your anonymous correspondence with Miss ——-, &.c., and, with as much seriousness, the part relative to ——, Thaddeus Burr's overtures, &c.
Steadily, Aaron. Money is alluring, and there is a pleasure in gratifying a friend; but let not a fortune buy your peace, nor sell your happiness. Neither be too much biased by a friend, or any one's advice, in a matter of so great consequence to yourself. Perhaps she is worthy your love, and, if I could think she was, I would not say a single thing to discourage you. Be cautious, Aaron; weigh the matter well. Should your generous heart be sold for naught, it would greatly hurt the peace of mine. Let not her sense, her education, her modesty, her graceful actions, or her wit, betray you. Has she a soul framed for love? For friendship? But why need I advise a person of better judgment than myself? It is not advice, my friend; it is only caution. You have a difficult part to act. If you reject, she curses: if you pity, she takes it for encouragement. Matters with me go on smoothly.
I am now making up a party to go to the Falls, to be ready against you come. My best regards to Mr. and Mrs. Reeve. I remain happy in the enjoyment of ——-'s love, and am,
Your unfeigned friend,
After the decease of President Burr, Lyman Hall was intrusted by the executors with the collection of sundry debts due to the estate. A removal, and his various avocations, prevented his performing that duty with the necessary promptitude. In consequence, the heirs were exposed to loss. A friend of the family, the Rev. James Caldwell, of New-Jersey, wrote him on the subject, and his answer is so honourable, that it is deemed only an act of justice to an upright man to record it here. It is another instance of the integrity in private life of those patriots that planned and accomplished the American Revolution. It will be seen that Mr. Hall was a member of the Congress of 1775 from the State of Georgia.
Philadelphia, 17th May, 1775.
Since I saw you, and afterwards Mr. Ogden, in Georgia, I have written to my attorneys and correspondents in Connecticut, to give me all the information they could obtain respecting the affairs and concerns of the late President Burr, left in my hands; which I had delivered over, before I left that colony in 1759, into the hands of Thaddeus Burr, of Fairfield; but no satisfactory answer can as yet be obtained. One debt, indeed, has been discovered, of about forty pounds New-York currency; but the bond on which it is due is as yet concealed.
On the whole, I find that it is not in my power to redeliver those securities for moneys which I was once in possession of; nor have I received the moneys due on those which were good; but am determined that I will make just satisfaction to the claimant heirs (orphans) of the late President Burr. It is, I know, my indispensable duty, and I have for that purpose brought a quantity of rice to this city, the avails of which, when sold, shall be appropriated to that use. I should be glad that you, or Mr. Ogden, the executor, could be here to transact the business, and, on a settlement, give me a power of attorney, properly authenticated, to recover any part of those moneys I can find due when I shall arrive in Connecticut, to which I propose going as soon as the Congress rises. As I am in Congress, I cannot see you directly; but, if liberty can be obtained, shall wait on you or Mr. Ogden, or both, in my way to New-York, in a few days; but I think Mr. Ogden, the executor, if it will suit, had better come here and settle it. I mention him because I suppose he is the proper person to discharge me, and give me a power of attorney.
I am, reverend sir,
With esteem, yours,
The Rev. JAS. CALDWELL,Elizabethtown
Footnotes:
1. A relative of President Witherspoon.
2. Uncle to Colonel Aaron Burr.
3. Subsequently Governor Ogden, of New Jersey, and brother of Matthias
In his retirement at the house of his brother-in-law (Judge Reeve), Burr was aroused by the shedding of his countrymen's blood at Lexington on the 19th of April, 1775. Immediately after that battle, he wrote a letter to his friend Ogden, requesting him to come on to Litchfield and arrange for joining the standard of their country. Ogden wrote for answer that he could not make the necessary arrangements. The battle of Bunker's Hill (on the 16th of June, 1775) followed in rapid succession; whereupon he started for Elizabethtown, New-Jersey, to meet Ogden, and aid him in preparations for the journey to Cambridge, where the American army was encamped.
Burr had been reading those portions of history which detailed the achievements of the greatest military men and tacticians of the age in which they lived. His idea of discipline and subordination was formed accordingly. With the most enthusiastic feelings, and under the influence of such opinions, Burr, in company with his friend Matthias Ogden, left Elizabethtown, in July, 1775, for Cambridge, with the intention of tendering their services in defence of American liberty. He had now entered his twentieth year, but, in appearance, was a mere stripling.
It has been seen that, whatever were Burr's pursuits or studies, his habits were those of intense application. He had already imbibed a military ardour equalled by few—surpassed by none. Panting for glory on the battle-field, information and improvement as a soldier were now the objects that absorbed all his thoughts. On his joining the army, however, he was sadly disappointed in his expectations. The whole was a scene of idleness, confusion, and dissipation. From the want of camp-police, the health of the men was impaired, and many sickened and died. Of the officers, some were ignorant of their duty, while others were fearful of enforcing a rigid discipline, lest it should give offence to those who were unaccustomed to restraint. Deep mortification and disappointment preyed upon the mind of young Burr.
The following original letters are found among the papers of Colonel Burr, and, as casting some light upon the history of those times, are deemed of sufficient interest (and not inapplicable) to be inserted in this work. The patriotic reply of General Montgomery is above all praise.
Philadelphia, June 23d, 1775.
The Congress, having determined it necessary to keep up an army for the defence of America at the charge of the United Colonies, have appointed the following general officers:—George Washington, Esq., commander-in-chief. Major-generals Ward, Lee, Schuyler, and Putnam. Brigadier-generals Pomeroy, Montgomery, yourself, Heath, Spencer, Thomas, Sullivan (of New-Hampshire), and one Green, of Rhode-Island.
I am sensible that, according to your former rank, you were entitled to the place of a major-general; and as one was to be appointed in Connecticut, I heartily recommended you to the Congress. I informed them of the arrangement made by our assembly, which I thought would be satisfactory to have them continue in the same order. But, as General Putnam's fame was spread abroad, and especially his successful enterprise at Noddle's Island, the account of which had just arrived, it gave him a preference in the opinion of the delegates in general, so that his appointment was unanimous among the colonies; but, from your known abilities and firm attachment to the American cause, we were very desirous of your continuance in the army, and hope you will accept of the appointment made by the Congress.
I think the pay of a brigadier is about one hundred and twenty-five dollars per month. I suppose a commission is sent to you by General Washington. We received intelligence yesterday of an engagement at Charlestown, but have not had the particulars. All the Connecticut troops are now taken into the continental army. I hope proper care will be taken to secure the colony against any sudden invasion, which must be at their own expense.
I have nothing further that I am at liberty to acquaint you with of the doings of the Congress but what have been made public. I would not have any thing published in the papers that I write, lest something may inadvertently escape me which ought not to be published. I should be glad if you would write to me every convenient opportunity, and inform me of such occurrences, and other matters, as you may think proper and useful for me to be acquainted with. The general officers were elected in the Congress, not by nomination, but by ballot.
I am, with great esteem,
Your humble servant,
DAVID WOOSTER, Esq.
Philadelphia, July 21st, 1775.
I am directed by the Congress to acquaint you of an arrangement in the Massachusetts department, and the reason which led to it, lest, by misunderstanding it, you might think yourself neglected.
When brigadiers-general were to be appointed, it was agreed that the first in nomination should be one of the Massachusetts generals. The gentlemen from that province recommended General Pomeroy, who was accordingly fixed upon; but, before his commission arrived at the camp, he had retired from the army. Under these circumstances the Congress thought it just to fill up the commission designed for Mr. Pomeroy with the name of General Thomas as first brigadier. You, consequently, hold the rank to which you were elected.
I sincerely hope this may not give you any displeasure, as I am confident no disrespect was intended.
Be pleased to accept my sincere wishes for your honour and happiness, and particularly in the discharge of the important trust which you have undertaken.
I am, with regard,
Dear sir, your most obedient servant,
General MONTGOMERY.
I have been honoured with your letter of the 21st inst. My acknowledgments are due for the attention shown me by the Congress.
I submit, with great cheerfullness, to any regulation they, in their prudence, shall judge expedient. Laying aside the punctilio of thesoldier, I shall endeavour to discharge my duty to society, considering myself only as thecitizen, reduced to the melancholy necessity of taking up arms for the public safety.
I am, &c., R. M.
Answer.
The preceding is endorsed, in the handwriting of General Montgomery, on the back of Mr. Duane's letter.
The laxity of the discipline which pervaded the camp at Cambridge, the inexperience of the officers, and the contests and petty squabbles about rank, all tended to excite great jealousy and discontent in the army. As yet, Burr was attached to no particular corps. He mingled indiscriminately with conflicting factions, until, disgusted with the scene which he daily witnessed, he was violently attacked with a nervous fever, by which he was confined to his bed.
One day he heard Ogden and some young men of the army conversing, in an apartment adjoining that in which he was lying, on the subject of an expedition. He called Ogden to his bedside, and inquired what was the nature of the expedition of which they were speaking. Ogden informed him that Colonel Arnold, with a detachment of ten or twelve hundred men, was about to proceed through the wilderness for the purpose of attacking Quebec. Burr instantly raised himself up in the bed, and declared that he would accompany them; and, so pertinacious was he on this point, that he immediately, although much enfeebled, commenced dressing himself. Ogden expostulated, and spoke of his debilitated state—referred to the hardships and privations that he must necessarily endure on such a march, &c. But all was unavailing. Young Burr was determined, and was immoveable. He forthwith selected four or five hale, hearty fellows, to whom he proposed that they should form a mess, and unite their destiny on the expedition through the wilderness. To this arrangement they cheerfully acceded. His friend Ogden, and others of his acquaintance, were conveyed in carriages from Cambridge to Newburyport, distant about sixty miles; but Burr, with his new associates in arms, on the 14th of September, 1775, shouldered their muskets, took their knapsacks upon their backs, and marched to the place of embarcation.
Litchfield, August 17th, 1775.
I was infinitely surprised to hear from you in the army. I can hardly tell you what sensations I did not feel at the time. Shall not attempt to describe them, though they deprived me of a night's sleep. But that was not spent altogether unhappily. My busybody,Fancy, led me a most romantic chase; in which, you may be sure, I visited your tent; beheld you (unnoticed) musing on your present circumstances, apparently agitated by every emotion which would naturally fill the heart of one who has come to the resolution to risk his life for his country's freedom. You will excuse my mentioning, that from a deep, absent meditation, partly expressed by half-pronounced soliloquies, I beheld you start up, clap your hand upon your sword, and look so fiercely, that it almost frightened me. The scene, on your discovering me, immediately changed to something more tender; but I won't waste paper.
If you should happen to find Dr. James Cogswell, who is in Colonel Spencer's regiment, please to give my best love to him, and tell him he is a lazy scoundrel.
It rains, my boy, excessively. Does it not drop through your tent?Write often to
To A. BURR.
As soon as the guardian and relatives of young Burr heard of his determination to accompany Arnold in his expedition against Quebec, they not only remonstrated, but they induced others, who were friendly to him, to adopt a similar course. While he remained at Cambridge, he received numerous letters on the subject. The two following are selected:—
Camp in Roxbury, 9th September, 1775.
I am extremely sorry to hear that you are determined on the new expedition to Quebec. I am sorry on my own account, as I promised myself much satisfaction and pleasure in your company: but I am not altogether selfish; I am right-justified sorry on yours. The expedition in which you are engaged is a very arduous one; and those who are engaged in it must unavoidably undergo great hardships. Your constitution (if I am not much mistaken) is very delicate, and not formed for the fatigues of the camp. The expedition, I am sensible, is a glorious one, and nothing but a persuasion of my inability to endure the hardships of it would have deterred me from engaging in it. If this excuse was sufficient for me, I am persuaded it is for you, and ought to influence you to abandon all thoughts of undertaking it. I have no friend so dear to me (and I love my friends) but that I am willing to sacrifice for the good of the grand—the important cause, in which we are engaged; but, to think of a friend's sacrificing himself, without any valuable end being answered by it, is painful beyond expression.You will die; I know you will die in the undertaking; it is impossible for you to endure the fatigue.I am so exercised about your going, that I should come and see you if I had not got the Scriptural excuse,—a wife, and cannot come.
My dear friend, you must not go: I cannot bear the thoughts of it.'Tis little less melancholy than following you to your grave.
Your affectionate friend,
Watertown, 11th September, 1775.
I cannot retire to rest till I have written you a few lines, to excuse my casting so many discouragements in the way of your journey to Quebec. At first I did not think it so hazardous; but, upon inquiring of those who had more knowledge of the country, thought it too fatiguing an undertaking for one of your years; and I find it altogether against the sentiments of your friends. I think you might be fairly excused, without the risk of being reported as timid, as the hopes of your family depend in a great degree upon you. I should have rejoiced to see you relinquish this expedition; but, as you are determined to pursue it, must beg you not to let any thing we have said to you depress your spirits, or damp your resolution, as it may otherwise have a fatal effect. We have held up the dark side of the picture, in order to deter you from going. You must now think only on the bright side, and make the least of every disagreeable circumstance attending your march. Let no difficulty discourage you. The enterprise is glorious, and, if it succeeds, will redound to the honour of those who have planned and executed it.
May God give you health and strength equal to the fatigue of the march, and preserve you safe from every danger you may encounter. Make Quebec a safe retreat to the forces. I hope to have a particular description of Canada from you when you return.
Don't turn Catholic for the sake of the girls. Again I beg you to forget what I have said to discourage you. It proceeded from love to you, and not a desire of rendering you ridiculous. Adieu, my dear friend.
Yours,
A day or two after Burr's arrival at Newburyport, he was called upon by a messenger from his guardian, Timothy Edwards, with instructions to bring the young fugitive back. A letter from his uncle (T. Edwards) was delivered to him at the same time. Having read the letter, and heard the messenger's communication, he coolly addressed him, and asked, "How do you expect to take me back, if I should refuse to go? If you were to make any forcible attempt upon me, I would have you hung up in ten minutes." After a short pause the messenger presented a second letter from his guardian, and with it a small remittance in gold. It was couched in the most affectionate and tender language, importuning him to return; and depicting, in the darkest colours, the sufferings he must endure if he survived the attempt to reach Quebec. It affected young Burr very sensibly, insomuch that he shed tears. But his destiny was fixed. He wrote, however, a respectful letter to his uncle, explanatory of his reasons for accompanying the army, and expressive of his gratitude for the kindness he had experienced.
On or about the 20th of September, 1775, the troops under the command of Arnold embarked at Newburyport. This detachment was to penetrate Canada about ninety or one hundred miles below Montreal, proceeding by the Kennebec river, and thence through the wilderness between the St. Lawrence and the settled parts of Maine. In this route, precipitous mountains, deep and almost impenetrable swamps and morasses, were to be passed. Arnold, in a letter to General Washington, datedFort Weston, September 25th, 1775, says: "I design Chaudiere Pond as a general rendezvous, and from thence proceed in a body. I believe, from the best information I can procure, we shall be able to perform the journey in twenty days; the distance from this being about one hundred and eighty miles."
During the march through the wilderness, no regard whatever was paid to order or discipline. Every man was left to take care of himself, and make the best of his way through the woods. The sufferings of this detachment from wet, and cold, and hunger, were excessive. From the latter, however, Burr suffered less than any of his companions. His abstemious habits in regard to eating seemed peculiarly calculated for such an expedition. Both Burr and Ogden had been accustomed, in small boats, to aquatic excursions round Staten Island and in its vicinity. They were skilful helmsmen, and in this particular, in passing the rapids, were frequently useful. Notwithstanding this qualification, however, Burr, with some soldiers in a boat, was carried over a fall of nearly twenty feet. One man was drowned, and much of the baggage lost. The weather was cold, and it was with great difficulty that he reached the shore.
"Arnold, who, at the head of the two first divisions, still prosecuted his march, was thirty-two days traversing a hideous wilderness, without seeing a house or any thing human. The troops were under the necessity of hauling their bateaux up rapid streams; of taking them upon their shoulders, with all their provisions, across carrying-places; and of traversing, and frequently repassing, for the purpose of bringing their baggage, deep morasses, thick woods, and high mountains. These impediments, notwithstanding the zealous and wonderfully persevering exertions of his men, so protracted his march, that, though he had expected certainly to enter Canada about the middle of October, he did not reach the first settlements on the Chaudiere, which empties itself into the St. Lawrence near Quebec, until the third of November.
"On the high grounds which separate the waters of the Kennebec from those of the St. Lawrence, the scanty remnant of provisions was divided among the companies, each of which was directed, without attempting to preserve any connexion with another, to march with the utmost possible celerity into the inhabited country. While those who gained the front were yet thirty miles from the first poor and scattered habitations which composed that frontier of Canada, their last morsel of food was consumed. But, preceded by Arnold, who went forward for the purpose of procuring for them something which might satisfy the first demands of nature, the troops still persevered in their labours, with a vigour unimpaired by the hardships they had encountered, until they once more found themselves in regions frequented by human beings." [1]
On the arrival of Arnold's detachment at Chaudiere Pond, Burr was despatched with a verbal communication to General Montgomery. He disguised himself as a young Catholic priest. In this order of men he was willing to repose confidence. He knew that the French Catholics were not satisfied with their situation under the provincial government; but especially the priesthood. Feeling no apprehension for his own safety from treachery, he proceeded to a learned and reverend father of the church, to whom he communicated frankly who he was, and what was his object. Burr was master of the Latin language, and had an imperfect knowledge of the French. The priest was an educated man, so that a conversation was held with but little difficulty. He endeavoured to dissuade Burr from the enterprise. Spoke of it as impossible to accomplish. He represented the distance as great, and through an enemy's country. The boyish appearance of Burr induced the reverend divine to consider him a mere child. Discovering, however, the settled purpose of the young adventurer, the priest procured him a confidential guide and a cabriolet (for the ground was now covered with snow), and, thus prepared, he started on his journey. Without interruption, he was conducted in perfect safety from one religious family to another, until he arrived at Three Rivers. Here the guide became alarmed in consequence of some rumours as to the arrival of Arnold at the Chaudiere, and that he had despatched messengers to Montgomery to announce to him the fact. Under strong apprehensions, the guide refused to proceed any farther, and recommended to Burr to remain a few days until these rumours subsided. To this he was compelled to accede; and, for greater security, he was secreted three days in a convent at that place. At the expiration of this period he again set off, and reached Montgomery without further detention or accident.
On his arrival at headquarters, he explained to the general the character of the re-enforcement he was about to receive; the probable number of effective men, and the time at which their arrival might be anticipated. General Montgomery was so well pleased with the details which had been given him, and the manner in which young Burr had effected his journey after leaving Arnold, that he invited him (Burr) to reside at headquarters, assuring him that he should receive an appointment as one of his aids. At this time Montgomery was a brigadier, and not entitled to aids, only in virtue of his being commander-in-chief of the army. Previous to his death, however, he was appointed a major-general, but the information did not reach him.
As soon as Burr had joined the family of the general, he entered upon the duties of an aid; but no formal annunciation was made until the army arrived before Quebec, when his appointment was announced in general orders. Arnold arrived at Point Levi, opposite to Quebec, on the 9th of November, 1775. He paraded for some days on the heights near the town, and sent two flags to demand a surrender, but both were fired upon as rebels with whom no communication was to be held. The true reason, however, was, that Colonel M'Clean, the British commandant, a vigilant and experienced officer, knowing the weakness of his own garrison, deemed it impolitic, if not unsafe, to receive a flag from Arnold.
The first plan for the attack upon the British works was essentially different from that which was subsequently carried into execution. Various reasons have been assigned for this change. Judge Marshall says, "that while the general (Montgomery) was making the necessary preparations for the assault, the garrison received intelligence of his intention from a deserter. This circumstance induced him to change the plan of his attack, which had been originally to attempt both the upper and lower towns at the same time. The plan now resolved on was to divide the army into four parts; and while two of them, consisting of Canadians under Major Livingston, and a small party under Major Brown, were to distract the attention of the garrison by making two feints against the upper town of St. Johns and Cape Diamond, the other two, led, the one by Montgomery in person, and the other by Arnold, were to make real attacks on opposite sides of the lower town." [2]
Colonel Burr says, that a change of the plan of attack was produced, in a great measure, through the advice and influence of Mr. Antill, a resident in Canada, who had joined the army; and Mr. Price, a Montreal merchant of property and respectability, who had also come out and united his destiny with the cause of the colonies. Mr. Price, in particular, was strongly impressed with the opinion, that if the American troops could obtain possession of the lower town, the merchants and other wealthy inhabitants would have sufficient influence with the British commander-in-chief to induce him to surrender rather than jeopard the destruction of all their property. It was, as Colonel Burr thought, a most fatal delusion. But it is believed that the opinion was honestly entertained.
The first plan of the attack was agreed upon in a council, at which young Burr and his friend, Matthias Ogden, were present. The arrangement was to pass over the highest walls at Cape Diamond. Here there was a bastion. This was at a distance of about half a mile from any succour; but being considered, in some measure, impregnable, the least resistance might be anticipated in that quarter. Subsequent events tended to prove the soundness of this opinion. In pursuance of the second plan, Major Livingston, with a detachment under his command, made a feint upon Cape Diamond; but, for about half an hour, with all the noise and alarm that he and his men could create, he was unable to attract the slightest notice from the enemy, so completely unprepared were they at this point.
While the first was the favourite plan of attack, Burr requested General Montgomery to give him the command of a small forlorn hope, which request was granted, and forty men allotted to him. Ladders were prepared, and these men kept in constant drill, until they could ascend them (standing almost perpendicular), with their muskets and accoutrements, with nearly the same facility that they could mount an ordinary staircase. In the success of this plan of attack Burr had entire confidence; but, when it was changed, he entertained strong apprehensions of the result. He was in the habit, every night, of visiting and reconnoitring the ground about Cape Diamond, until he became perfectly familiarized with every inch adjacent to, or in the vicinity of, the intended point of assault.
When the attack was about to be commenced, Captain Burr, and other officers near General Montgomery, endeavoured to dissuade him from leading in the advance; remarking that, as commander-in-chief, it was not his place. But all argument was ineffectual and unavailing. The attack was made on the morning of the 31st of December, 1775, before daylight, in the midst of a violent snow-storm. The New-York troops were commanded by General Montgomery, who advanced along the St. Lawrence, by the way of Aunce de Mere, under Cape Diamond. The first barrier to be surmounted was at the Pot Ash. In front of it was a block-house and picket, in charge of some Canadians, who, after making a single fire, fled in confusion. On advancing to force the barrier, an accidental discharge of a piece of artillery from the British battery, when the American front was within forty paces of it, killed General Montgomery, Captain McPherson, one of his aids, Captain Cheeseman, and every other person in front, except Captain Burr and a French guide. General Montgomery was within a few feet of Captain Burr; and Colonel Trumbull, in a superb painting recently executed by him, descriptive of the assault upon Quebec, has drawn the general falling in the arms of his surviving aid-de-camp. Lieutenant Colonel Campbell, being the senior officer on the ground, assumed the command, and ordered a retreat.
Footnotes:
1. Marshall's Life of Washington
2. Marshall's Life of Washington, vol. i., p. 329.
To evince the high sense entertained by his country for the services of General Montgomery, Congress directed a monument to be erected, with an inscription sacred to his memory. They "Resolved, That, to express the veneration of the United Colonies for their late general, Richard Montgomery, and the deep sense they entertained of the many signal and important services of that gallant officer, who, after a series of successes, amid the most discouraging difficulties, fell, at length, in a gallant attack upon Quebec, the capital of Canada, and to transmit to future ages, as examples truly worthy of imitation, his patriotism, conduct, boldness of enterprise, insuperable perseverance, and contempt of danger and death, a monument be procured from Paris, or other part of France, with an inscription sacred to his memory, and expressive of his amiable character and heroic achievements; and that the continental treasurer be directed to advance a sum, not exceeding three hundred pounds sterling, to Dr. Benjamin Franklin, who is desired to see this resolution properly executed, for defraying the expenses thereof."
This resolve was carried into execution at Paris by that ingenious artist, M. Caffieres, sculptor to Louis XVI., king of France, under the direction of Dr. Benjamin Franklin. The monument is of white marble, of the most beautiful simplicity and inexpressible elegance, with emblematical devices, and the following truly classical inscription, worthy of the modest but great mind of Franklin.
This monument was erected in front of St. Paul's Church, in the city of New-York, in the spring of 1789.
General Arnold temporarily became commander-in-chief of the American army near Quebec, and was accordingly removed to headquarters. Young Burr was now called upon to perform the duties of brigade major. Arnold's plan was, by a close blockade, to starve out the enemy; but, from the weakness of his force, he soon discovered that this was impracticable; and he knew that, on the opening of the spring, he could not retain his present position, but must retreat. He therefore resolved to send in a flag of truce, and demand a surrender. He informed Captain Burr that he was about to send him with a communication to General Carlton, the British commander. Captain Burr required that he should be made acquainted with its contents. Arnold objected; whereupon Burr remarked that, if the general wished it, he would resign; but that he could not consent to be the bearer of the communication without possessing a knowledge of its character. At length, it was exhibited to him. It was demanding a surrender of the fortress, but in terms that Captain Burr considered unbecoming an American officer, and he so stated to the general; adding, that the bearer of such a message, if he were permitted to deliver it, would be treated by the British with contumely and contempt; and therefore declined the mission. Another officer was selected, and met the fate Burr anticipated. Shortly after (April 1st, 1776), General Wooster arrived from Montreal and took the command. He was succeeded by General Thomas about the 1st of May; and, on the 5th of May, it was determined in council to raise the blockade of Quebec, and that the sick and wounded should be immediately removed, with the artillery and stores, by boats, to Three Rivers, preparatory to a retreat.
Burr's perseverance and zeal during the march through the wilderness with Arnold, his subsequent boldness in joining Montgomery, and his intrepidity at the assault on Quebec, had acquired for him great reputation in the army, and had drawn towards him the attention of some of the most distinguished Whigs in the United Provinces. From every quarter he received highly complimentary letters. From a few of them extracts are made. Colonel Antill, a resident of Montreal, who had joined the American army, thus addresses him, five days after the fall of Montgomery:—
"La La Chine, 5th January, 1776.
"I have desired Mr. Price to deliver you my pistols, which you will keep until I see you. They are relics from my father's family, and therefore I cannot give them to you. The general (Wooster) has thought proper to send me to the Congress, where I shall have an opportunity of speaking of you as you deserve.
"Yours,
On the 4th of January, General Wooster writes from Montreal to GeneralArnold:—
"Give my love to Burr, and desire him to remain with Colonel Clinton for the present. [1] Not only him, but all those brave officers who have so nobly distinguished themselves. I shall ever remember with gratitude and the highest degree of approbation, and shall not fail to represent them accordingly.
From a college-chum of great merit, he received a letter, dated
"Philadelphia, January 24th, 1776.
"I am informed a gentleman is just setting off for Quebec, and snatch the opportunity of at once condóling with you for the loss of your brave general, and congratulating you on the credit you have gained in that action. 'Tis said you behaved well—you behaved gallantly. I never doubted but you would distinguish yourself, and your praise is now in every man's mouth. It has been my theme of late. I will not say I was perfectly disinterested in the encomiums I bestowed. You were a son of Nassau Hall, and reflected honour on the place ofmyeducation. You were my classmate and friend, and reflected honour on me. I make no doubt but your promotion will be taken care of. The gentlemen of the Congress speak highly of you.
"Your affectionate,
"WILLIAM BRADFORD, Jun."
Judge Tappan Reeve writes—
"Stockbridge, January 27th, 1776.
"Amid the lamentations of a country for the loss of a brave, enterprising general, your escape from such imminent danger, to which you have been exposed, has afforded us the greatest satisfaction. The news of the unfortunate attack upon Quebec arrived among us on the 13th of this month. I concealed it from your sister until the 18th, when she found it out; but, in less than half an hour, I received letters from Albany, acquainting me that you were in safety, and had gained great honour by your intrepid conduct. It gave us a kind of happiness that I should be very loath ever again to enjoy; for it never can be the case until you have again been exposed to the like danger, and have again escaped it, which I hope may never happen. To know that you were in safety gave great pleasure. It was heightened by hearing that your conduct was brave. Could you have been crowned with success, it would have been complete.
"It was happy for us that we did not know that you were an aid-de-camp, until we heard of your welfare; for we heard that Montgomery and his aid-de-camps were killed, without knowing who his aid-de-camps were.
"Your sister enjoys a middling state of health. She has many anxious hours upon your account; but she tells me that, as she believes you may serve your country in the business in which you are now employed, she is contented that you should remain in the army. It must be an exalted public spirit that could produce such an effect upon a sister as affectionate as yours.
"Adieu.
His friend, Jonathan Bellamy, writes, "Norwich, March 3d, 1776.
"Be you yet alive? I have been infinitely distressed for you; but I hope it is now as safe with you as glorious. Doctor Jim Cogswell has left the army. A few days ago I received a letter from him. 'I doubt not,' he says, 'you have most sensible pleasure in the applauses bestowed on our friend Burr; when I hear of his gallant behaviour, I feel exquisite delight.'
"Curse on this vile distance between us. I am restless to tell you every thing; but uncertainty whether you would ever hear it bids me be silent, till, in some future happy meeting, I may hold you to my bosom, and impart to you every emotion of my heart.
"Yours sincerely,
Immediately after the repulse of the Americans at Quebec, his friend Ogden returned to New-Jersey, but spent much of his time with the army in the city of New-York. He writes to Burr, dated
New-York, 20th March, 1776.
Some weeks have elapsed since I saw Walker and Price. To-day I met with Hopkins at this place. My first inquiry was for letters from you. I mean not to upbraid you. This is the third time of my writing since I left you. I shall continue it, with the hope of giving you some small satisfaction. Miss Dayton is well, and will soon be mine. Barber is appointed major in the third Jersey battalion, of which Dayton is colonel, and Walton White lieutenant-colonel. Hancock was particular in his inquiry after you, and was disappointed in not receiving a line from you. I was kindly received on my arrival at Philadelphia. The Congress have since appointed me lieutenant-colonel in the first Jersey battalion, in the room of Lieutenant-colonel Winds, who has the regiment in the stead of Lord Stirling, who is advanced to a brigadier-general.
Colonel Allen, who hands you this, is much of a gentleman, and worthy your attention. Melcher has hobbled himself. Inquire of Colonel Allen. General Thompson commands. To-morrow my appointment will be announced in general orders, whereupon I shall join my regiment, but shall obtain leave of absence for a week or two. Elizabethtown swarms with girls, among which is Miss Noel. I have not seen Miss Ricketts.
When I was in Philadelphia, Colonel Reed expressed a desire of serving me. He said there was a vacancy in General Washington's family, and doubted not his recommendation would procure it for me. I declined it, hoping to get a more active office, but desired he would procure it for you. If any thing offers at Quebec, accept it, as it will not hinder your appointment here. Washington is expected in New-York, when I shall have a better chance of bringing it about. The pay and rank are equal to a full major. I shall write you by Price. Miss Dayton is particular in her inquiries after you.
Yours sincerely,
In the spring of 1776, the army moved from Montreal to the mouth of the Sorel. Major Burr yet remained with it. While at Montreal, he became disgusted with General Arnold, on account of his meanness and other bad qualities. On the march through the wilderness, he was far from being satisfied with the general. Burr thought he provided too carefully for himself; and that he did not sufficiently share the fatigues and privations of the march in common with the troops. Immediately after arriving at the Sorel, he informed the general of his desire to visit his friends, and to ascertain what was doing, as he wished more active employment. General Arnold objected somewhat petulantly. Burr remarked courteously, but firmly, "Sir, I have a boat in readiness. I have employed four discharged soldiers to row me, and I start to-morrow morning at six o'clock." He then designated the point at which he should embark. Arnold forbade his departure, whereupon Burr reiterated his determination.
The next morning, at the specified hour, he repaired to his boat, and shortly after discovered the general approaching. "Why, Major Burr," says he, "you are not going?"—"I am, sir," replied the major. "But you know, sir, it is contrary to my wish and against my orders."—"I know, sir, that you have thepowerof stopping me, but nothing short of force shall do it." The general then changed his tone and manner, and endeavoured to dissuade; but, after a few minutes' conversation, Burr wished him great success, then embarked, and took his departure without interruption.
On the Sorel an incident occurred which gave some alarm to the voyagers. Burr had taken into his boat, as a kind of companion, a young merchant. On the borders of the river they suddenly discovered a large brick house, with wings, having loopholes to fire through, and in view, at the door, stood an Indian warrior, in full costume. The oarsmen were for attempting to retreat. Burr said it was too late, as they were within the reach of the Indians' rifles. The passenger was about to stop the men from rowing, when Burr threatened to shoot him if he interfered. The inquiry was then made—"What are we to do?" The major replied, "Row for the shore and land; I will go up to the house, and we shall soon learn what they are." By this time several other Indians had made their appearance. On reaching the shore, Burr took his sword and proceeded to meet the red men. An explanation ensued, and it was ascertained that they were friendly. The stores were landed from the boat, and a merrimaking followed.