James Wilkinson was born of good English stock on a farm near Benedict, in southern Maryland, in 1757. A medical career was planned for the boy and he was put under a relative to study for the profession. This was followed by formal training in Philadelphia. A brief adventure into medicine was interrupted by the outbreak of the Revolution when young Wilkinson was seized with patriotic zeal, volunteered in a rifle company, and marched off to join the American forces in Boston.

This transition from a medical to a military career proved permanent. Wilkinson’s genius for self-advancement soon manifested itself. He was an extrovert who did not believe in hiding his light under a bushel. There may have been some doubt among his comrades as to his enthusiasm for engaging in hand-to-hand combat or making a desperate last stand, but none whatever as to his ability in ingratiating himself with his superiors.

He was aide successively to General Nathanael Greene and General Benedict Arnold and took part with the latter in the campaign against Quebec. On that strenuous expedition he first made the acquaintance of Aaron Burr. Unlike Burr he did not enjoy the distinction of having a general die in his arms, but his services were sufficiently noteworthy to lead to a promotion to lieutenant colonel. The warrior’s next assignment was on the staff of General Horatio Gates who made him deputy adjutant general of the Army of the Northern Departments. It was then he first exhibited a fatal quality for appearing wherever intrigue was in the air. This instance was the Conway Cabal whose object was to cashier Washington and put Gates in his place. The Commander first got wind of it when Wilkinson, arriving in a garrulous mood at Lord Stirling’s headquarters, let out the contents of an incriminating letter from Conway to Gates. Wilkinson’s later version of the incident was that he deliberately made the disclosure. He was to develop an exceptional gift for shifting from the role of conspirator to patriot when the going got hot.

However deeply he may have been involved in the plot it did not interfere with his continued rise in the military. He was promoted to brigadier and appointed clothier-general of the American Army, but he neglected his work, drew a rebuke from Washington, and shortly thereafter resigned from the service.

Meanwhile Wilkinson had married Ann, daughter of John Biddle of Philadelphia, a merchant and innkeeper. His devotion to his wife was the one sincere and admirable feature of his life. He bought an estate in Pennsylvania and made a brief entry into local politics, serving as member of the State Assembly.

Like Burr, Wilkinson was extravagant, loved display, and lived beyond his means. In an age when heavy drinking was not uncommon his indulgence was sufficiently conspicuous to provoke comment. He was soon overwhelmed with debt and, following the example of many other men in the same predicament, decided to go west to recoup his fortunes. It was in Kentucky and the Southwest that he was destined to spend the rest of his life.

The Spaniards were then in possession of New Orleans, parts of the present Louisiana, the Floridas, Texas, and Mexico. They dreaded the crude American frontiersmen as the decadent Romans dreaded the Vandals and the Visigoths, expecting them at any time to swoop down, loot, destroy, and conquer. One of their defense measures was to seek out friends and informers among the Americans. In Wilkinson they found a willing collaborator. The Spaniards about this time closed the Mississippi to American goods coming down from the territories and the frontiersmen were indignant with the Spaniards—and with the indifference of their own government to their plight. It was then that the Spanish Plot took shape. Esteban Miro, Spanish Governor of Louisiana, fostered it by calling attention to the advantages to be gained by an establishment of a nation beyond the Alleghenies under the protection of Spain.

Wilkinson, one of the American leaders in the plot, saw the chance to turn Spanish fears to his account. He made two trips to New Orleans, ingratiated himself with Miro, and wrung from him a concession to deposit his goods at New Orleans and to enjoy other special commercial privileges. In return he swore allegiance to the Spanish crown and engaged to act as a secret agent. In the Spanish reports he was thereafter to be designated as “Number Thirteen.” It was a relationship Wilkinson was to maintain with Miro and his successors for more than a decade. The Spaniards agreed also to grant Wilkinson a pension of $2000 a year. But communications on the frontier were primitive; a pension payable in silver dollars did not always get through.

In spite of this new source of income Wilkinson’s extravagance kept him on the verge of bankruptcy. To add to his difficulties, the Spaniards reversed their policy and withdrew his trading privileges. Wilkinson was driven to selling most of his personal possessions. In this extremity he accepted a commission in the United States Army, took part as second in command in General Anthony Wayne’s invasion of the Wabash country, burned and pillaged with the best of them, and gained quite a reputation as an Indian fighter. At this time President Washington, making a summary of the general officers of the army, damned Wilkinson with faint praise, commenting that “little can be said of his abilities as an officer. He is lively, sensible, pompous and ambitious, but whether sober or not is unknown to me.”

Wayne learned of Wilkinson’s Spanish connections and warned the Government. When President Washington, toward the close of his administration, sent Andrew Ellicott out as commissioner to put into effect a treaty with Spain, he directed him to investigate Wilkinson. Ellicott did not at that time find reason to take the rumors seriously, but Wilkinson himself did. In alarm he wrote to Gayoso, governor of Natchez, “For the love of God and friendship enjoin great secrecy and caution in all our concerns. Never suffer my name to be written or spoken. The suspicion of Washington is wide awake.”

On the death of General Wayne in 1796 Wilkinson became senior officer in the army. Though John Adams, the incoming President, knew of Wayne’s charges against Wilkinson, he kept him on and gratified his suspicion with true New England frugality by holding him to the rank of brigadier.

Seeing how the political wind was blowing against the Federalists, Wilkinson set to work ingratiating himself with Thomas Jefferson. This turned out to be a highly profitable speculation. Thereafter he enjoyed the support and at least the professed confidence of Jefferson, yet it is hard to believe that a man of Jefferson’s sagacity did not at times entertain unpleasant doubts about his protÉgÉ.

When on December 20, 1803, pursuant to the terms of the Purchase, the United States took over Louisiana from the French, Wilkinson, as commanding general of the United States Army, shared with Governor William C.C. Claiborne, of the Mississippi Territory, the honor of representing the United States when the French Tricolor was lowered from the flag-staff in the Place d’Armes in New Orleans and the Stars and Stripes were hoisted in its place.

In 1804 Governor Don Vincente Folch of West Florida turned up in New Orleans. A nephew of old Miro, he had been a party to the intrigues with Wilkinson to which he referred as “the ancient history.” The two took the occasion to renew secret relations. Wilkinson, for a price, volunteered to recommend a course Spain might pursue to prevent the United States from profiting by the cession of Louisiana. Asserting that he had not received his pension for ten years he asked for $20,000 in arrears. Actually he is estimated to have received from the Spaniards $26,000 prior to 1796. Wilkinson also offered to supply Folch with a text of “reflections” and to ascertain and report on the plans and purposes of President Jefferson and his cabinet. Simultaneously, in his capacity as commander of the American forces, he was writing Secretary of War Dearborn that he was “collecting topographical information in all directions and at some expense which I am persuaded you will find highly interesting.” The reference to expense bore the unmistakable odor of a request for compensation.

Folch, for his part, replied that he did not have the money Wilkinson asked and suggested that he apply to the Marquis de Casa Calvo, the boundary commissioner, who was known to be possessed of a generous supply of cash. Calvo accepted Wilkinson’s offer but refused to bid higher than $12,000 for his “Reflections.” These, written and translated, advised Spain to hold on to the Floridas or exchange them for the west bank of the Mississippi, and meanwhile to fortify strongly the Texas and Florida borders. This from the man who, as commander of the United States Army, might soon be called upon to lead his men against those same fortifications! No wonder he begged the Marquis, upon his loyalty, honor, and friendship, to avoid the use of his name and instead employ the designation “Number Thirteen.”

In spite of his secret work for the Spaniards, and his duties as army commander, Wilkinson still found time for another job as Governor of the Louisiana Territory to which he was appointed by President Jefferson, and to curry favor with his benefactor by presenting him with a twenty page memorial describing the country between the Mississippi and the Rio Grande.

On a trip east in 1799 Wilkinson renewed his acquaintance with Aaron Burr whom he visited in New York. Burr was instrumental in placing Wilkinson’s son James in Princeton. In the spring of 1804 Wilkinson again came east. On his arrival in Washington he lent welcome color to the dreary newborn capital by leading a cavalcade through the streets, mounted on a blooded mare and magnificent in the uniform of a major general of his own designing, his stirrups and spurs of gold, his saddlecloth a leopard’s skin with dangling claws, his son and namesake James as military aide riding a respectful distance behind him.

Again Wilkinson sought Burr’s company, addressing a letter to him at Richmond Hill and asking a bed for the night “if it may be done without observation and intrusion.” Burr had broken with the Republicans by this time and Wilkinson evidently considered it unwise for President Jefferson’s protÉgÉ to be discovered on intimate terms with so prominent an enemy of the Administration. Burr just then was smarting under his defeat in the campaign for Governor of New York and his next step was uncertain. The possibilities of fame and fortune deriving from an invasion of the Spanish possessions could well have served as an engaging topic for gentlemen of their adventurous temperament and vivid imagination.

Returning to Washington Wilkinson satisfied his gregarious impulses by rubbing shoulders with Congressmen, especially those from the Southwest, and discussing the prospects of war with Spain, lamenting that it was not already being waged. “Mexico,” he commented, momentarily shifting his loyalty from Spain to the United States, “glitters in our eyes—the word is all we wait for.”

In July the duel between Hamilton and Burr was fought. In his flight from the New Jersey authorities Burr sought refuge in the home of Charles Biddle, a cousin of Ann Wilkinson and a warm friend of the General.

During the following winter in Washington, while Burr was closing out his term as Vice-President, he and Wilkinson saw much of each other. It was then that Wilkinson got his appointment as Governor of Louisiana. He picked as his secretary a Dr. Joseph Brown who had married the late Mrs. Burr’s sister. The Vice-President and the General spent much time together. It was said they were copying maps of the Floridas, New Orleans, and the Louisiana Territory.

Mention has been made that when, in the summer of 1805, Burr first journeyed to the West he met with Wilkinson at Fort Massac and St. Louis. As further evidence of their intimacy at this time Wilkinson gave Burr letters of introduction to Daniel Clark, a former partner and one of the wealthiest men in New Orleans, and to other friends there. Speaking of Burr in his letter to Clark, Wilkinson wrote: “To him I refer you for many things improper to letter, and which he will not say to any other.” In a letter to a Spanish friend he described Burr as a “brave, learned, eloquent, gallant, honorable, discreet gentleman, rich in the best affections of the human heart—in short a man who has filled the second place in the Government of the United States with dignity and admiration.”

To Senator John Adair, Kentucky leader, he penned an intriguing note in which he said, “He [Burr] understands your merits, and reckons on you. Prepare to visit me, and I will tell you all. We must have a peep at the unknown world beyond.”

Innocent though these letters may have been, the cryptic terms in which they were couched were enough to arouse suspicion. People were beginning to talk. In September Clark sent a warning to Wilkinson, cautiously expressed, for letters in those days were common property; no telling who might read one before it reached its destination. Said Clark: “Many absurd and evil reports are circulated here and have reached the ears of the officers of the late Spanish Government, respecting our Vice-President.... You are spoken of as his right hand man.... What in the name of heaven could give rise to such extravagancies? Were I sufficiently intimate with Mr. Burr and knew where to direct a line I should take the liberty of writing to him....

“The tale is a horrid one if well told. Kentucky, Tennessee, the State of Ohio, with part of Georgia and part of Carolina, are to be bribed with plunder of the Spanish countries west of us to separate from the Union; this is but part of the business. Heavens, what wonderful doings there will be in those days.... Amuse Mr. Burr with an account of it.” Clark’s letter as much as said that General Wilkinson and Burr would do well to hold their tongues. On Burr’s visit to Wilkinson in St. Louis after his return from New Orleans the relations between the two men appeared to be as cordial as ever. But newspapers were asking whether there was a conspiracy on foot to disrupt the Union. Then came Clark’s letter. Wilkinson grew disturbed. According to his later story, he then wrote to the Secretary of the Navy cautioning him to keep an eye on Burr. There is no evidence that such a letter was ever received by the Secretary. Nor, at that time, was there any indication that Burr was conscious of any change in Wilkinson’s cordial attitude. Thus matters stood during the winter of 1806 and into the summer when Burr set out for the West with the intention, in his own words, “Never to return.”

On his arrival in Pittsburgh Burr dispatched the two copies of his letter to Wilkinson, dated July 29. This was the incriminating document a copy of which President Jefferson sent to Congress along with his special message. It was the one on which the Government counted heavily in proving its charge of treason. Mention has been made that one copy went by sea to New Orleans in the hands of the German, Dr. Erich Bollman; the other by land in care of Samuel Swartwout, younger brother of John Swartwout, Burr’s political ally in New York. Swartwout was accompanied by another young man, Peter Ogden, nephew of Burr’s friend, former Senator Dayton of New Jersey. Dayton, now out of office, was deeply involved in the intrigue. Ogden carried a letter from Dayton to Wilkinson.

At this point the forces of Spain and the United States were drawn up opposite each other on the Sabine River which separated Texas from Louisiana. General Wilkinson headed the American force and was at his headquarters at Natchitoches in western Louisiana when, on October 8, Swartwout and Ogden arrived with the letters.

The contents of the cipher letter from Burr has been set forth. Though Burr may not yet have begun to doubt Wilkinson’s steadfastness, he and Dayton evidently felt that he needed prodding. With that in mind, Dayton wrote that he had it on good authority that Wilkinson was to be replaced at the next session of Congress. “Jefferson,” he declared, “will affect to yield reluctantly to the public sentiment, but yield he will; prepare yourself, therefore for it; you know the rest.” Then, further to stiffen the General’s morale, he added: “You are not the man to despair, or even disposed, especially when such prospects offer in another quarter. Are you ready? Wealth and glory. Louisiana and Mexico.”

Wilkinson spent the better part of the night decoding Burr’s letter and pondering his next step. By morning he had reached a decision, if he had not done so already. Timidity had prevailed over adventure and avarice. He would abandon Burr and cling to the Government. But he needed all the shrewdness and skill at his command to make the transition convincing and lend credence to the story he would tell. How would an innocent man behave? The General’s first act was to summon his subordinate, Col. Thomas Cushing, and inform him that Swartwout was Burr’s agent and that Burr was the head of a widespread conspiracy. He said he would make what terms he could with the Spaniards so that his hand might be free to deal with the conspirators.

But Wilkinson did not reveal his betrayal of Burr to Swartwout. For the next ten days he kept the young man at Natchitoches while he pumped him dry of information and considered his next move. By October 20 he had sufficiently mapped his course to write Jefferson that he had discovered that a powerful association, extending from New York through the western states, had been formed for the purpose of leading an expedition against Vera Cruz. Judging it inadvisable to name names at this stage he stated that it was “unknown under whose authority” the enterprise had been projected. This ten days after he had announced to Colonel Cushing that Burr was the man!

The following day, in another confidential dispatch, he reiterated that, “I am not only uninformed of the prime mover and ultimate objects of this daring enterprise, but am ignorant of the foundations on which it rests.” This letter professing complete ignorance was the one Burr asked the court to get from Jefferson through the subpoena duces tecum. No wonder.

Then in his heart-searching dilemma the General seized upon a fantastic scheme which he thought might enable him at one and the same time to demonstrate his loyalty to the Government without at the same time abandoning his friends. In a postscript he asked, “Might not some plan be adopted to correct the delirium of the associates and by a suitable appeal to their patriotism to engage them in the service of their country?”

If he supposed the Government would countenance an invasion of Spanish territory he was wrong. Jefferson’s policy just then was not one of war, but of negotiation by purchase.

Wilkinson’s immediate concern was that Jefferson might lose faith in him. Added to other rumors of his guilt was the open charge of the Kentucky newspaper, The Western World, that he was an “intriguer and pensioner of Spain, now associated with Aaron Burr in reviving the old Spanish conspiracy.” There was little chance that, with all its avenues of communication, the White House would not be informed of the articles running in The Western World. Wilkinson, with an initiative he seldom showed on the battlefield, decided to take the offensive and strike without waiting for Jefferson to inquire.

So in another letter to the President on the same day Wilkinson called attention to the attacks, stating that he had been “bespattered with obloquy and slandered with a degree of virulence and indecency surpassing all example.”

“I have at times been fearful,” he confessed, “your confidence might be shaken by the boldness of the calumnies leveled at me: but the reflection that I have not only enjoyed but merited the confidence of George Washington [which was far from the truth] and his administration ... and that the same illustrious character died my friend; and that the honest but wrong-headed President Adams approved my conduct in opposition to his ministers, combined with the consciousness that the wealth and power of the wide world could not for the moment divert my course from the path of honor, dissipated my apprehensions and determined me not to descend to the task of refuting by ... testimony and authentic documents every imputation alleged against me, from the most frivolous to the most sane; I therefore contented myself by directing my attorney to bring action for slander against the printers, to test their authorities in a court of law.” Fine words but, like the warning to the Secretary of the Navy there is no record that such a suit was ever brought.

Whatever his other shortcomings the General was not lacking in eloquence, especially when he was proclaiming his own virtues. He continued: “My ultimate views are limited to the acquisition of an honorable fame—I have ever condemned the sordid interest of the world, and estimate property by its immediate utility only.” This from a man in a position of high public trust who had not hesitated to sell out to a foreign government! He went on: “... and it is the highest ambition of my soul on a poor occasion, to spend my last breath in the cause of my country—a frail character, but a just one.” Finally a modest tribute to Mr. Jefferson: “To you I owe more than I will express, lest I should be suspected of adulation, which I detest.”

Wilkinson need not have worried about Jefferson. Almost a year before the President had had very definite warning from District Attorney Daveiss who wrote him that he was convinced Wilkinson “has been for years, and now is a pensioner of Spain.” Jefferson showed the letter to Gallatin, Madison, and Dearborn, but took no further action for reasons that later were made clear by his cabinet officers.

By November the General had effected a treaty with the Spaniards. His lieutenant, Colonel Cushing, was marching to the defense of New Orleans and Wilkinson was in the throes of patriotic emotion. To Cushing he wrote, “My God! What a situation has the country reached. Let us save it if we can.... Hurry, hurry after me, and, if necessary, let us be buried together in the ruins of the place we shall defend!”

Now that the die had been cast Wilkinson exerted every effort to lend authenticity to his declarations. To Governor Claiborne of New Orleans he dashed off a startling message of warning: “You are surrounded by dangers of which you dream not, and the destruction of the American Government is seriously menaced. The storm will probably burst in New Orleans, where I shall meet it and triumph or perish.”

The Governor must have been impressed by the similarity between this message and the one he had previously received from Andrew Jackson. The one striking difference was that in Jackson’s message the warning had been to watch not Burr or unknown conspirators, but Wilkinson. Then the man who had designated himself to save the nation in its hour of peril took up his pen and indited another dispatch to President Jefferson in his most florid style. He wrote:

“This is a deep, dark and widespread conspiracy, embracing the young and the old, the Democrat and the Federalist, the native and the foreigner, the patriot of ’76 and the exotic of yesterday, the opulent and the needy, the ins and the outs.” But let not the President despair. Wilkinson was there and “... nothing shall be omitted which can be accomplished by indefatigable industry, incessant vigilance and hardy courage; and I gasconade not when I tell you that in such a cause, I shall glory to give my life to the service of my country; for I verily believe such an event is probable.”

Wilkinson informed the President that 7000 men were descending the Ohio River, bringing the sympathies and good wishes of that country. This exaggerated estimate no doubt was intended to justify his declaring martial law when he should arrive in New Orleans.

As emotionally aroused as Wilkinson appeared to be, he still was sufficiently the hard-headed businessman to devise as clever a bit of scheming as can be found in his long and illustrious career of intrigue. While at Natchitoches he had taken on as military aide one Walter Burling, a local planter. Burling asked Wilkinson’s permission to enter Spanish territory to buy mules. Wilkinson assented, then told Burling he had long wanted details of the route from the United States to Mexico City and directed him to use the trip as an excuse for reconnaissance, and to return by water. Wilkinson then gave Burling a letter to JosÉ de Iturrigary, Spanish Viceroy at Mexico City, in which he related the intentions of Burr against Mexico. He laid great stress on the measures he had taken at the risk of his life, fame, and fortune to save the Spanish possession. His services he valued at $121,000. Simultaneously he wrote to President Jefferson asking reimbursement for Burling’s trip, the cost of which he put at $1500. Thus with a single stone he hoped to kill not two birds but three. His finesse was not entirely successful. Burling made the trip and returned safely with information about the route. Iturrigary thanked him for his pains but refused payment saying he already knew about Burr’s plans. Jefferson, however, obliged with the $1500.

On November 25 the General arrived in New Orleans. He acted vigorously in calling out the militia, repairing the fortifications, and impressing seamen. Then he set in motion a veritable reign of terror. When Bollman delivered his letter from Burr, Wilkinson seized him and threw him into jail. He tried to frighten Governor Claiborne into declaring martial law by asserting that if drastic measures were not taken to meet the danger “the fair fabric of our independence, purchased by the best blood of the country, will be prostrated and the Goddess of Liberty will take her flight from the globe forever.”

Following their exoneration by the Kentucky grand jury Burr and Adair proceeded to Nashville where they parted company. Burr boarded his flatboats while Adair set out on horseback for New Orleans. Many believed Adair was second in command to Burr. Oblivious of their past intimacy, dating from the Indian campaign, and no doubt in a desperate effort to erase the damning fact that he had introduced Adair to Burr, Wilkinson had Adair arrested on his arrival in New Orleans. Then he shipped Adair, Bollman, Swartwout, and Ogden under arrest by sea, with Baltimore and Washington as their destinations, to be dealt with by the Government. He set up a system of secret police to search for evidence, confiscated correspondence, and arranged with the postmaster to rifle the mails. When Governor Claiborne refused to be bullied into declaring martial law Wilkinson declared it himself. But when he tried to force the Louisiana Legislature to suspend the writ of habeas corpus the members rebelled, protesting that such action would be a violation of the Federal Constitution.

As it grew apparent that the threat of invasion had been greatly exaggerated and that the imminent peril of the city was largely a figment of Wilkinson’s fevered imagination, the New Orleans public rose in revolt against this assumption of power and disregard of their rights.

In Washington President Jefferson was receiving news of Wilkinson’s operations and measuring the nation’s reactions. He grew alarmed. In a carefully worded letter to the General he alluded to Wilkinson’s mistaken notion that 7000 men were descending the Mississippi with Burr for an assault on New Orleans. This total, Jefferson surmised, must have been based on the estimate of the number of men who could be raised in the western country for an invasion of Mexico under the authority of the Government. But, suggested the President, evidently the General had not taken into account that the instant his proclamation reached the West and made it known that the Government did not sanction the expedition, all honest men deserted Burr and left him with only a handful.

The President then tactfully cautioned the General against making wholesale arrests. His sending Bollman and Swartwout to Washington, he said, was supported by public opinion. So would be the sending of Burr, Blennerhassett, and Comfort Tyler, if they were apprehended. “I hope,” added the President, “you will not extend this deportation to persons against whom there is only suspicion, or shades of offense not strongly marked. I fear public sentiment would desert you, because seeing no danger here, violations of law are felt with strength. I have thought it just to give you these views of the sentiment here, as they may enlighten your path.”

No doubt, continued Mr. Jefferson, Wilkinson had seen the malicious insinuations in the newspapers against him. But the President of the United States protested that he still had faith: “I can assure you that your conduct, as now known, has placed you on ground extremely favorable with the public.”

Shortly thereafter a Major Bruff of the Artillery arrived in Washington from St. Louis. He went straight to Secretary of War Dearborn and directly accused Wilkinson of spying for the Spaniards and committing treason with Burr. Dearborn heard Bruff out and then replied calmly that there had been a time when the General had not stood well with the Executive, but his energetic measures at New Orleans had regained him executive confidence and the President would sustain him. Bruff then appealed to Attorney General Caesar Rodney who gave him a realistic and revealing answer. “What would be the result,” Rodney asked, “if all your charges against General Wilkinson should be proven? Why just what the Federalist and all the enemies of the present administration wish—it would turn the indignation of the people from Burr on Wilkinson. Burr would escape and Wilkinson take his place.”

There could not have been a clearer exposition of the predicament in which Jefferson found himself. He had declared Wilkinson to be the savior of the nation. To confess now that Wilkinson was a knave would convict himself of gross negligence in entrusting the safety of the western country to such a man.

As the time for Wilkinson’s presence in Richmond approached, and as he foresaw the attack that was sure to be made on his integrity, the General recognized the importance of clearing himself of the charges of being a secret agent of Spain. He therefore appealed directly to his old friend Governor Folch of West Florida, telling him he was being slandered because of certain alleged Spanish intrigues of a criminal nature and asking him to state whether he, Wilkinson, had ever received a pension from the Spanish government.

The Spanish government may on occasion have been remiss about paying the pension in full and on time, but Folch now met nobly every obligation his government owed the General. In a private letter to Wilkinson whom he addressed as “my dear friend” he assured him he had sent all the documents that pertained to “the ancient history” to Havana, “persuaded that before the United States are in a situation to conquer that capital, you and I and Jefferson, Madison and all the secretaries ... will have made many days’ journey into the other world.” Folch reminded Wilkinson that he had been in Louisiana since 1783 and had enjoyed confidential relations with his uncle, Governor Miro, and declared that no document showing Wilkinson to have been a secret agent in the pay of Spain existed in the records. Then in a public letter he came out handsomely with the statement that “his [Wilkinson’s] qualities as an honest man and one faithful to his country entitle him to your particular attention and regard and we judge him to be worthy of the commission he holds.”

Such was Folch’s exoneration of Wilkinson when only a few weeks before, as Burr and his men were traveling down the Mississippi toward Spanish territory, Yrujo, Spanish minister to the United States, was assuring Don Cevallos, Spanish Foreign Minister, that the governors of the Floridas were being informed of what was going on through Folch’s connection with Wilkinson.

In assuring Wilkinson that his conduct had “placed him on ground favorable with the public” Mr. Jefferson could not have included that sizable portion of it that just then regarded Wilkinson as a brother in crime with Burr, who at the last minute had lost his nerve and betrayed his partner in a valiant attempt to save himself.

Thus was the stage set for the entry of the Government’s star witness.