As they proceeded on their journey the report of the outcome of the trials in Richmond went ahead of them. It was a report of the miscarriage of justice painted in the lurid colors of the most extreme animosity of political partisanship.
The crisis came with the arrival of the party in Baltimore on November 3. That city was a hotbed of Republicanism and its frequent emotional outbursts already were conditioning it for the popular name of “Mobtown.” Handbills had been printed and distributed announcing the hour for the hanging in effigy of the Chief Justice, Burr, Blennerhassett, and Martin.
On learning of the proposed demonstration Burr, accompanied by Swartwout, discreetly embarked in a stagecoach for Philadelphia. Martin retired to his house where he enjoyed the protection of some of his law students and other friends who armed themselves and prepared to resist if the house were attacked.
Blennerhassett repaired to an inn where he was supposed to be guarded by the police—a doubtful security in the event of a public demonstration. At the frantic urging of the landlord he sought the greater safety of the attic and from a window looked down at the disorderly procession as it passed by the inn.
In the lead was a fife and drum corps playing “The Rogues’ March.” Behind it came a cart in which were the effigies of the aforesaid gentlemen on their way to be strung up on Gallow’s Hill. It was a motley array which the living models for the effigies did well to escape. Fortunately the demonstration ended without violence or bloodshed.
Burr was still under indictment in New Jersey and New York despite the fact that the death of Hamilton had occurred three years before. He did not therefore dare to show his face in public, but lived in New York City as a fugitive, cared for by devoted friends, until six months later he took passage for Europe under an assumed name.
He arrived in London in the middle of July and, because of his former distinction as well as his personal attractions, he was welcomed by such accomplished persons as Charles Lamb, William Godwin, and Jeremy Bentham. Burr was still obsessed with the idea of playing a vital part in the achievement of independence by the Spanish colonies in America. He gained an interview with the British statesmen Castlereagh and Canning and revealed a plan of action, but without obtaining either their interest or support. On the contrary, for whatever reason, the official attitude stiffened. His apartment was searched and his property seized. The property was returned but with it came an order to leave England. Some people saw in this the avenging hand of Jefferson.
Once more an exile, Burr wandered through Sweden, Denmark, and Germany, always out of funds, depending on the charity of friends, but still with enough of the old unconquerable spirit to set down in his diary a lively record of his various amours.
The Colonel at last reached Paris where he sought an interview with Napoleon in the hope once more of pushing his plans for exploiting the Spanish colonies. But the Emperor was too busy with his immediate problems in Europe to give ear to those of Burr. The latter’s situation was more desperate than ever. The only recourse left to the outcast was to return home. The American representatives in Paris, on orders from Washington, refused him a passport. By one of those odd coincidences so often encountered in life, one of the American representatives was Alexander MacRae who so short a time before had sought his conviction in Richmond.
In these trying days the Colonel, if he ever needed consolation, could still count on Theodosia. In fact the harder he was treated by the world the greater was her adulation. It reached its climax in a letter which she addressed to him in Europe: