THE COURTROOM EMPTIED IN AN INSTANT. MEN POURED OUT OF IT, some claiming that they would defend Burr against any who came to arrest him; others that they would find him and drag him back on the end of a noose. Each boast was as idle as the other, of course, for no-one knew where Burr might be.
A strong arm grasped my collar. Tyler was standing behind me looking grim.
‘Back to the camp,’ he hissed. ‘If Burr has gone, it’ll not be long before they come for us.’
I did not doubt he was right, though I wondered whether returning to our camp would be the best way to evade capture. There was no time to argue, though, for Tyler was already drawing me towards a pair of horses tethered to a nearby rail. Even then I might have broken away – I would far rather have taken my chances alone than with Burr’s known accomplice – but as I looked around for a break in the crowd I saw three high-crowned hats pushing a purposeful path towards us. They were still some distance away, yet there was something in their rigid formation which spoke of military discipline. I fancied I had seen the hats before at King’s Tavern.
Without further complaint, I untied the horse’s bridle, swung myself into its saddle, and kicked hard against its flanks. Glancing back, I saw the three men in the hats redouble their efforts to reach us, but the throng of spectators was too thick, and we were cantering away down the road to Natchez before they were free of it. Even so, I did not relax until we had put a full league between ourselves and Washington.
We returned our mounts to the stable in Natchez, and descended by a steep path to the landing. I suppose it was a mark of the town’s development that its docks were already as rough and dissolute as any seaport’s: gentle folk built their houses on the heights above the river, while a ramshackle village of taverns, whiskey-shops, gaming halls and brothels clustered under the bluffs below. Even in February, with the river trade much reduced by winter, these houses thrived with every sort of licentious activity. Songs of raucous merriment drifted out of their ill-fitting doors, and I felt a longing pang to be in a warm place with laughter and a willing lady squeezed against me.
Sadly, Tyler allowed no time for such indulgence. He hailed a boatman and engaged him to carry us up to the creek where our flotilla was moored. The wharf was busy, for a boatload of ironware from Pittsburgh was being unloaded, and we had to weave our way between the stevedores to reach our skiff. Intent on keeping my head from being staved in by the packing crates, I was not looking down, so the blow to my stomach seemed to come from nowhere. A small, dark figure had collided with me head-on, slamming the wind out of me. By the time I could draw breath to berate him for his negligence, he had slipped past me and vanished without trace.
No, I noticed – not entirely without trace. As I tucked in my shirt and straightened my neck-cloth, I saw that a small piece of paper had been pressed into my hand. I unfolded it.
If you are together, keep together, and I will join you two nights hence. In the meantime put all your arms in perfect order.
There was neither signature nor date. I showed it to Tyler, who read it quickly then immediately thrust it into his pocket, glancing about to see if we had been noticed.
‘That’s the colonel’s writing.’
‘He might find better ways to deliver his correspondence,’ I muttered, rubbing the bruise on my stomach.
‘Never mind that.’ Tyler stepped into the waiting skiff and took his place on the stern thwart. ‘We’ll tell no-one of this message, but keep the men together in the camp and wait for his return.’
‘Then what will we do?’
Tyler shrugged. ‘Burr will have some scheme or other.’
No doubt he would. And almost as certain, I would want no part in it.
For two days, our camp was turned upside down as every militiaman in the territory combed it for the fugitive. They searched our boats, our tents and even our supplies, as though Burr might have been secreted in a cask of salt beef. They did not find him. On the second day, a frustrated militia captain concluded his visit by nailing a piece of paper to a willow tree which grew beside our boats. In bold, hysterical print it proclaimed that Burr was a fugitive from justice, and that two thousand dollars would await any man who apprehended him. Which might have tempted me, if I’d known where Burr was to be found – and if Tyler had not kept a close eye on me.
The only other person who might have known Burr’s whereabouts was Catherine. She returned to our camp the morning after the trial, having apparently bade him goodbye on his flight, but would not speak of it: she retired to the sleeping cabin on Burr’s boat and bolted the door. Even under the shadow of mortal danger, her rebuff cut me, and though I damned myself for a fool I spent long hours pondering how I might seduce her affections back.
In truth, there was little else to consider. Attorney that he was, Burr had taken elaborate precautions to keep within the letter of the American law, but once he had fled he was beyond its protection (though naturally he would have protested otherwise). That left me at the foot of a two-thousand-mile river, in the depths of a foreign wilderness, without friends, without freedom, and without any thought of how I might escape. My mission to stop Burr’s invasion might have succeeded, though little thanks to my own efforts, yet in the broader spirit of my instructions I had conspicuously failed. I had no doubt that I would soon be arrested and held as evidence of a monstrous British conspiracy to disunite the states, a crime whose only fitting punishment must be war. If Hook and his men had not yet called at our camp, it could only be because they were preoccupied with finding Burr. Once he was caught, I had little doubt they would come for me, yet even that spectre failed to raise me to action. After all, where could I go?
Burr arrived, as he had promised, two nights after the trial. No-one saw him come. He came alone, slipping out of the surrounding forest at twilight, and was in our midst before any of the pickets had seen him. In an instant, every man and woman in the camp had surrounded him and was plying him with questions. Where had he been? What would he do? What would become of them? They were like disciples who had found their messiah returned to them, but Burr waved aside their concerns and scrambled up onto a boulder to address them for the last time. The last rays of sunset gilded his face with a serene countenance.
‘I guess you’ll all know by now that the court acquitted me, but I guess you’ll also know that it doesn’t signify a cent in this territory. Governor Mead and President Jefferson have gotten it into their minds to ruin me, and it seems there’s no court in the land where the law’ll stand up to them.’
‘We’ll stand up to them!’ shouted a man in the crowd. To my relief, no-one echoed the sentiment.
Burr shook his head. ‘We’ll give them no cause to condemn us. It’s me who they want; there’s no use you all being martyred in my cause. I’m releasing you from my service.’
A chorus of desultory lamentation sounded among his assembled followers. A few implored him to reconsider, to stand with them and teach the governor a lesson, but their pleas soon died out.
‘You’ve been loyal comrades, and you deserve better than you’ve had from me.’ With that at least I could agree. ‘I wish I could give you what you deserve, but my bills have been protested and my credit’s not so good right now.’
The sounds of regret in the crowd grew markedly less.
‘But I’ll give you what I’ve got.’ He gestured towards the little flotilla drawn up impotent on the sandbank. ‘Sell the boats, and as much of the stores as you don’t need, and divide the profits among yourselves. The muskets too, if you can find where they’re hid. I won’t be needing those where I’m going.’
‘Where’s that?’ asked one of the men.
‘It’s best you don’t know. Far from here. They’ll take me again if I stay around, so I guess I’ll flee from oppression.’
He looked around once more, an air of finality in his gaze. When he spoke again, his voice quavered with emotion.
‘You’ve been the finest army a soldier could wish to command. In another time, we might have done deeds to rank with Cortés and Pizarro, maybe even Caesar himself. All I can say is I hope it comes out for you as you deserve. God bless you.’
He jumped down from the boulder, out of the sunlight and into the hazy dusk gathering on the ground. The moment he did so his followers were all around him, besieging him with good wishes and pressing to shake his hand. Many looked grief-stricken – particularly the women, I noticed – and Blennerhassett’s cheeks glistened with tears. Was he mourning the ruin of the man who had captivated him, I wondered, or was he contemplating his own destruction? He had invested his reputation and a large part of his fortune in Burr’s scheme; now both were lost, and it would not be long before he himself was dragged into a courtroom for his part in the matter. If he’d had any sense, he’d have run there and then. If he was feeble enough still to adhere to the man who had led him to this disaster, that was his affair.
I had had enough. The lethargy and indecision which had gripped me were gone, as if Burr’s farewell had loosed me from his spell. Suddenly my way was clear: Burr had abandoned his scheme, and I need only escape unnoticed to bring my mission to an entirely favourable conclusion. I would go to New Orleans and take ship for England, and not trouble Nevell too much with the details of my ineffectual role in events. Between his gratitude and the damning letter I could hold over my uncle, I might even come out of the affair at considerable advantage.
I was in the day cabin of Burr’s erstwhile flagship, packing my few belongings into my chest, when I heard a footfall at the door. Burr was standing there, having somehow escaped the fawning throng, and if he felt dismay that I had acted so promptly on his dismissal he did not show it. Indeed, he seemed to approve.
‘You are putting your house in order, I see. That is very good. We must not leave any trace when we are gone.’
Something in his words roused my suspicion. ‘When we are gone?’
‘Of course,’ said Burr briskly. All trace of his valedictory melancholy had vanished. ‘We are not finished yet.’
It was not what I wished to hear. ‘But the men – the boats – the arms. You dismissed them.’
‘They are superfluous. Where we are going, we will have no need of boats.’
‘Where is that?’
Burr waved a proprietorial arm towards the south-east. ‘West Florida. Hundreds of Americans have settled there, but they live under the tyranny of the Spanish king.’ As so often, he had slipped effortlessly into his orator’s garb. ‘They are a powder keg, wanting only a spark to blast the Spaniards to Glory.’
Or more likely blow up in our face. ‘But what of your army?’ I asked again.
‘They have served their purpose. In truth, Jerrold, I do not believe they were well fitted to the task. We will recruit a new army among the settlers on the Tombigbee. They are stout souls who will not scruple from a fight. And of course, we will have your ships and sailors to reinforce our position. You will be able to summon them, I presume?’
Still dazed from the onslaught of this new madness, I suddenly saw my opportunity. ‘If I am to summon them, it would be best if I went through New Orleans. I could hire a boat, rendezvous with my fleet, and join you at the designated place.’ And be halfway across the Atlantic before Burr realized the betrayal – if his plan had not already ended in disaster.
But Burr would not be persuaded. ‘You cannot do that. Wilkinson is in New Orleans, and his fist is clenched tight around the city. He has declared martial law, terrorized the populace and arrested several of my allies. He knows that his complicity in my schemes is widely suspected, and he will not rest until every ounce of evidence is destroyed. If you passed through there he would surely hear of it; he would imprison you and turn you over to Jefferson, or worse. I need not tell you what that would mean for our respective countries.’
I no longer cared much what happened to my country, or his, but I cared a great deal what happened to Martin Jerrold. The force of Burr’s argument unnerved me. There did not seem to be any advantageous path, though I was certain that following him would be the worse option.
Before I could order my thoughts, Burr continued, ‘It will be much better if you are with me. Your presence will assure the Florida settlers that we are in earnest, and you will be able to communicate my exact position to your frigates. Will you be able to find them?’
‘They are keeping station at the line of twenty-eight degrees north latitude,’ I murmured. ‘I can find them there. But—’
‘Then it is agreed. Our time is short. It is a hundred and fifty miles as the crow flies to the Tombigbee, and we will needs be quick with our enemies close behind. We will move by night, and travel by Indian paths. I will disappear for a few hours now – I dare not stay too long in this camp, and there are arrangements I must make – but I will return for you at midnight. Meet me by the boulder where I gave my address. Until then, au revoir.’
He vanished out of the door. It was the last time I saw him on that doomed venture, though sadly not the last time our paths met, and it remains my abiding memory of him: a jaunty figure, striding away to hopeless dreams of conquest with a smile on his face. I later heard it said of him that he was as far from a fool as could be, yet as easily fooled as any man. Most of all, I think, he fooled himself.
None of which was in my thoughts as I stood in that cabin, watching the light fade outside. Burr would return at midnight; I would have to be away by then or I would surely find myself dragged still deeper into the mire of his conspiracy. I threw the last of my clothes into the chest, then rummaged in the boat’s cupboards until I found a case of Burr’s pistols. I had not forgotten his warning that Wilkinson awaited me in New Orleans, that I might well anticipate Captain Hook’s work by delivering myself to my enemies on their own doorstep.
‘What are you doing, Martin?’
I turned. The door to the sleeping cabin had been opened, and Catherine was standing just behind me dressed in coat, cap and boots. Her face, always pale, now seemed more fragile, and there were dark smudges below her eyes which no amount of powder could hide.
‘I am going to New Orleans,’ I said, uncertain how much I could trust her. ‘I, ah, have an errand for Colonel Burr.’
‘That is a lie.’ She said it without emotion, as though it were perfectly natural. ‘He wishes you to accompany him to West Florida – I heard him say so.’
So I was a liar and she a spy. ‘What of it?’
‘He has asked me to go to Florida too.’
‘Then go.’ I spoke harshly, from a keen sense of the injustice she had done me.
‘I do not want to.’ She took a step towards me and laid a tentative hand on my arm. ‘Martin, I have been a foolish little creature, I confess it. Colonel Burr was all compliments and kindnesses to me, and I felt so alone in this wilderness that I succumbed to him when I ought not have. I regret it, Martin, truly I do. Ascribe it to my age, or my sex, or my ingenuousness, but forgive me, I beg you.’
I stared at her in astonishment. For weeks I had dreamed of hearing these words, had imagined myself putting a consoling arm around her, before slipping into her skirts to prove I bore no grudge. But now that the apology had actually come I did not know what to make of it.
‘Colonel Burr is a devious, deceitful little man who will promise anything to have his way.’ She could no longer restrain herself; she flung herself into my arms and rested her head against me, sobbing into my shirt. ‘I have wronged you, Martin; pray do not punish me more than I deserve. If you are leaving, take me with you.’
Somewhere in the back of my thoughts I remembered her words on Blennerhassett Island, the ardour she had professed for adventure. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing the scales fall from her eyes. But that was of no moment. I still did not know whether to forgive her, to trust her or even to believe her, but when a beautiful woman has her arms clasped around your waist and is thrusting her bosoms against your ribs, measured judgements are impossible.
‘Come with me, then,’ I said. ‘I am going to New Orleans, and thence by ship to England.’
She stretched up and kissed me on the lips. ‘How I long to see it, my love.’
In that at least I did not doubt her sincerity. She threw her few effects into my box, and then together we hauled it out of the boat. I did not want to arrive in New Orleans in Burr’s flagship. Instead, I cast around the camp and quickly found half a dozen men only too keen to leave Burr’s army before the militia returned. They needed little persuasion that New Orleans would prove the perfect place to forget their associations with Burr, and readily enlisted as crew for my flatboat. Only one showed any qualms.
‘But it ain’t your boat to take,’ he objected.
‘Of course it is. Colonel Burr owes us for our service and our loyalty; he has already told us to sell the boats in lieu of that debt. Taking it to New Orleans only ensures we’ll get a higher price.’
‘And we’ll all take equal shares?’
‘Naturally.’
There was no attempt to keep us from leaving. We hauled the boat off the sandbank into the creek, and soon felt the tug of the Mississippi speeding us forward. On we went – away from Burr, away from Natchez, away from the heart of that wild continent –down the final stages of the river towards the sea.