It was Nicholas Perkins who, informed of the presence of a mysterious stranger near Wakefield, in Washington County, Alabama, set out to investigate. His keen eye noted that the boots showing below the stranger’s pantaloons were much too fine for any ordinary countryman. Burr, on being challenged, acknowledged his identity and agreed to go with Perkins who turned him over to the military authorities at Fort Stoddart, an army post north of Mobile.
The commander was a young Virginian, Lieutenant Edmund Pendleton Gaines. Gaines engaged Perkins to deliver his prisoner to the Government in Washington. On March 5 the party set out. The first part of the journey, made on horseback, lay through the Cherokee Indian country in Alabama and Georgia. Heavy rain increased the discomfort of the travelers. Burr bore his hardships without a whimper and with but one incident of insubordination. As a lawyer he knew his arrest was highly questionable. South Carolina was the home of his son-in-law where he might perhaps find sympathy. So, while passing through the little settlement of Chester in that state, Burr leaped from his horse and shouted, “I am Aaron Burr, under military arrest, and claim the protection of the civil authorities.” Perkins, with his superior size and strength, calmly took him around the waist, sat him back on his horse, and the party proceeded. Thereafter, Burr traveled in a gig. That is, until the party shifted to a stagecoach shortly before reaching Richmond.
The original destination had been Washington. But at Fredericksburg, Virginia, Perkins received counterinstructions from President Jefferson to deliver his prisoner to the authorities in Richmond. So on their arrival at the Eagle Tavern, Perkins’ task was nearly ended.
That explains why and how a former Vice-President of the United States found himself in the toils of the law. The rumors of conspiracy that had spread throughout the country during the last two years had now been confirmed by the President of the United States. Burr’s guilt, declared that highest authority, was “beyond question.” And, but for the honor of Wilkinson the soldier and the fidelity of Wilkinson the good citizen, who acted in the nick of time, no telling where the country would be. Such was the official version.
No wonder the general public, in the face of the damning evidence, expected the ensuing trial to be a mere formality. No wonder a toast that became universally popular was drunk to “Aaron Burr—may his treachery to his country exalt him to the scaffold, and hemp be his escort to the republic of dust and ashes.”
The gallows might loom before him. Burr surveyed the prospect with his accustomed calm.
Chapter III
When fortune thus rudely delivered Burr at its gates Richmond was a thriving community of over 5,000 souls. Of these from a third to a half were colored slaves. The town, situated on the falls of the James River, enjoyed the distinction of being the seat of government of a commonwealth which, despite the loss of Kentucky, still extended from the Atlantic coast to the Ohio River and included the present West Virginia. It ranked as one of the important cities of the young nation along with Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Charleston, South Carolina.
Richmonders boasted that their city, like Rome, was built on seven hills. These overlooked the river on the north. The most conspicuous of them was the lofty promontory known as Capitol Hill on which stood the state capitol, an impressive structure with a columned portico facing the river and some hundred or more feet above it. Credit for the design was given to Jefferson who took as his model the Roman temple known as the Maison Carrée at Nismes, France.