orium
of the South, was lined with ships from every sea, and with
innumerable river craft. New Orleans was one of the richest marts on
the hemisphere. Burr stepped ashore and quickly ascended the levee.
Hundreds of pleasure-seekers swarmed the footpaths or rested on the
benches under the rows of orange trees which shaded the broad
causeway.

On turning his eyes towards the city, Burr experienced a thrill of
surprise. The prospect surpassed his pre-conceptions. In the subdued
glow of the setting sun, he saw all things touched with a visionary
splendour. Streets, roofs, belfries, the cathedral spire, and the flag
of the Union streaming far away above the fort, appeared objects in an
enchanted scene. Were the seven cities of Cibola clustered in one
golden capital?

The spell was broken by the practical promptings of common sense. Not
in possession, but only in pursuit of a treasury and a scepter, the
would-be monarch addressed himself to the solution of his complicated
problem. It was necessary to learn how the Louisianians regarded the
Federal government, how much prejudice they felt against the Atlantic
States, and whether they could be influenced to break away from the
Union and to organize a separate autonomy. Burr wished further to know
who and how many were disposed to wage war against the Spaniards with
the ulterior design of conquering Mexico. In order to learn the inside
facts he must gain the confidence of all, must make himself popular,
must fathom hearts and steal away brains. The final success of his
plans would depend on the good-will of the people. The good-will of
the people must be won by address--by social tact. Social tact was
Aaron Burr's art of arts. He deliberately set about the delicate
business of captivating a city that he might eventually capture it.

Wilkinson had pressed upon him letters of introduction to the magnates
of the town. Neither letters nor formal receptions were needed to
introduce Aaron Burr to society. His manner was passport, entitling
him to cross all borders; his sympathy was cosmopolitan, his
toleration unlimited, his pleasure, to please others, his study
urbanity. Jews thought him a Hebrew, and Christians voted him
orthodox. The amiable but capricious creoles, easy to take offense,
yet blind in their devotion to those they confide in, swarmed to his
standard. The Roman Catholic bishop countenanced him, endorsed his
aims, and signalized an official friendliness by accompany