CHAPTER XXV THE CITY OF LUTETIA NIFTY years before the Christian Era, Julius FT gions, ravaged Ancient Gaul, and, after defeating Vercingetorix, encamped in and about the City of Lutetia of which he gives an account in his Commentaries. Eighteen hundred and fifty years thereafter, another great conqueror, the peer of Cæsar, made a great fête at Paris, the capital of the country of which he, Napoleon, was emperor, even as Cæsar had been emperor of Rome. History had repeated itself; or, rather, had reversed itself, for he had gone forth from the City of Paris, built on the site of the ancient City of Lutetia, and the victorious legions of France had, in their turn, ravaged the domain which had been the seat of the Roman Empire under Cæsar. On the evening of this festal day, the palace of St. Cloud was ablaze with light. The people of France, for Paris was France, were intoxicated with enthusiasm. During the day, the son of the Emperor had been christened and proclaimed King of Rome. Aaron Burr was one of the immense concourse of spectators that stood in the pouring rain and gazed upon the illuminated palace. He had been an enforced resident of Paris for twenty months, when, of his own free will, he would have limited his stay to a fortnight-possibly a month. Why had he remained so long? It is inconceivable that the French authorities should have insisted upon retaining within their borders a man who so ardently desired to leave them behind him. But it was not the fault of the French government that he was denied the desired passports. The opposition came from a different source. General John Armstrong who had been a classmate of Burr at Princeton and who was now United States Minister to France; Jonathan Russell, who was charge d'affaires at Paris; and Mr. McRae, Consul at Paris, who had been one of the counsel for the prosecution at Burr's trial for high treason, formed the trio which combined their forces and used every endeavor to prevent Burr's return to his native land. When one reflects, if he had been allowed to leave France when he desired, that his daughter Theodosia might have been spared to be with him and care for him in his declining years and that her own valuable life and that of her son might have been saved, the responsibility of these three political enemies of Burr for these sad occurrences becomes manifest. It should have caused them a lifelong regret, being an unnecessary sacrifice for which there could be no adequate requital in this world. To the average mind exile is a most unhappy condition. We imagine the poor outcast driven from home and friends and forced to seek an asylum in some foreign land, surrounded by people who speak a strange language and by customs with which he is not acquainted. He is overcome with homesickness, that Heimweh which the Germans consider the most acute mental suffering a human being can endure and live. No doubt the majority of those who, from casual reading, have learned that Aaron Burr was an exile in Europe for four years, have formed some such picture in their minds of his existence while abroad. But such mental conceptions are not always correct, and the pages of history, it must be confessed, do not always convey the whole truth. Fortunately, Aaron Burr left behind him the means of ascertaining just how he passed these four years of exile. To be sure, he was sorry, very sorry indeed to leave his beloved daughter Theodosia, her little son, and his daughter's husband to whom he was greatly attached, and between whom a feeling closely approaching that of love of father and son existed. Burr left many friends behind, but the real ties that it cost him pain to sever were those that bound him to his daughter and her child. But Burr was sanguine. Whatever misfortune might overtake him, he was hopeful of the future, and during his four years residence in Europe his constant thought was of his return and the joyful meeting to follow with his daughter and her child. In proof of this, the nine hundred printed pages of his diary while in Europe supply conclusive evidence. This diary was not written for publication. It was intended only for the perusal of his daughter, Theodosia. He says many times in. the course of it: "I will tell you all of this story when we meet and have our little chats together." It was designed as memoranda to guide him in giving more complete accounts of his travels when, safe at home with his daughter, they sat together during the long summer evenings or the still longer ones that come in winter; and he continually refers to these anticipated conversations. His enemies, of whom it may safely be said that he had legion, and those persons so little interested in him as to believe anything prejudicial that might be said of him, have constantly spoken and written of the fact that he was reduced to poverty while abroad, but they do not tell the whole truth; perhaps they do not know it. It will be magnanimous to assume that they did not know that some ten thousand dollars due him in the United States, and which he counted upon receiving from time to time while in Europe, were never paid. From this fact, Burr was often forced, as anyone in like circumstances might have been, to rely on the kindness or generosity of his friends; but it must be said to his credit that he never borrowed when he could pawn or sell anything of value that he possessed. To his further credit, it must be added that he indulged in no fine raiment for himself; he was abstemious in food and drink; he smoked a pipe because cigars were too expensive; he borrowed newspapers instead of buying them; he lay in bed on cold days to save coal or wood, and he never accepted an invitation to a dinner if he thought the party giving it had any idea of the reduced state of his finances. His extravagances were purchases of presents for Theodosia and her boy. nearly all of which, however, were sold or pawned in order to secure his passage-money home. A single incident will show the consummate philosophy of the man. One day, while in London, he found that his whole fortune consisted of two halfpence. He wrote in his diary that he was glad he had them instead of a single penny, for he could jingle the half-pence and they sounded more like money. To such a man, adversity might cause worriment, pain, and suffering, but it could implant no thorns to rankle and smart. If the tree of life supplied him with fruit, he was grateful therefor; if it gave him but buds and flowers he was thankful; if naught but leaves were denied him he was equally content; if these were beyond reach, the bark of the tree sufficed for his humble wants; if this last failed, he chewed the bitter roots of adversity sweetened by hopes of the future. And now, after four years of amusing and instructive travel coupled, to be sure, with some privations, this "poor, miserable outcast," to use the language of his enemies, who had been received everywhere with courtesy and honor by the nobility and by men of science, letters, and art, stood gazing at the palace of St. Cloud—but, he was thinking of his passports. One great pleasure had come to him in Paris which atoned for all the sufferings which he had undergone. He had met and been on terms of the closest social intimacy with Vanderlyn, the little New York boy whom he had christened the "Genius of the Roadside," and for whose early education in art he had supplied the funds. It is interesting to note the manner in which Burr finally secured his passports. One evening, at a social gathering, he had become acquainted with a Mlle. St. Clair. With the gallantry common to gentlemen of that time, he accompanied the lady to her lodgings and was invited to visit her. Several days afterwards, while making a call there, the conversation turned to pictures and sculpture, and she expressed a desire to view an exhibition of paintings by the great masters which was then being given at the Louvre. Burr endeavored to secure the desired ticket of admittance. He stated his wish to a friend, the Duc d'Alberg. The Duke gave him a letter to M. Denon who was the Director-General of the exposition at the Louvre. This meeting with Denon proved to be a most fortunate one. Denon gave him the ticket. Burr was on his way to deliver it to Mlle. St. Clair when he was met by an American named Griswold, then a resident of Paris. Mr. Griswold wished to take a party of ladies to the Louvre but he needed one more ticket. Burr, on learning this, gave him, without hesitation, the one that he had procured for Mlle. St. Clair. A few days later, he secured a second letter from the Duke to M. Denon, which the latter honored with another ticket. Denon invited him to dine with him, |