I have been tickled by the recent identification of records of James Wilson at the Historical Society of Pennsvlvania as an early draft of the Constitution prepared during the Constitutional Convention in the Summer of 1787.  I think the find is slightly less electrifying than the initial ballyhoo suggests, but it's still a great thing.  Further study may reveal whether it truly unlocks some secret of the deliberations.

I take particular pleasure that the "find" focuses attention on Wilson, who was one of the three most important Framers during the Convention.  We have him to thank for the Electoral college and the three-fifths rule -- a couple of remarkable innovations, even if you don't care for them (and I don't).

The other two of the top three Framers?

• George Washington (for being there).
• John Rutledge (for having the greatest influence on the final Constitution).

What about James Madison, Gouverneur Morris, and Ben Franklin?  I'd put them at 4, 5, and 6.

Nattering on about Aaron Burr's 1807 treason trial this week, I was brought up short by a very simple question:  How many treason trials have there been in the United States?  I resolved to investigate the question, which yielded the following.

The Framers of the Constitution mistrusted treason prosecutions, seeing them as an easily abused tool of political oppression.  Accordingly, they defined treason very specifically in Article III, Section 3 of the Constitution:

Section 3. Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort. No Person shall be convicted of Treason unless on the Testimony of two Witnesses to the same overt Act, or on Confession in open Court. .

At Burr's trial, Chief Justice John Marshall adhered closely to this restrictive defiition of treason -- particularly the "two witness" rule -- which was important to Burr's acquittal.

So, who else has faced treason charges?  Mostly the obscure and the slightly known, with only one name I might have guessed.  But it's not that long a list, not much more than a dozen.  Here are a few of the leading figures.

• Abolitionish John Brown, 1859 -- This is a trick answer to the question, because Brown, who attempted to begin a slave uprising with his raid on the federal arsenal at Harper's Ferr, was actually tried for treason against the state of Virginia(!). 
• Thomas Dorr of Rhode Island, 1844 -- Leader of a movement for universal male suffrage, Dorr headed one of two rival governments of Rhode Island. The previous governor refused to step down after Dorr's election, then arrested Dorr, and tried and convicted him for treason against the state of Rhode Island.  The U.S. Supreme Court declined to intervene on behalf of Dorr, who was released after serviing a year of his sentence.
• Iva Ikuko Togun ("Tokyo Rose") -- A Japanese-American trapped in Japan when World War II began, Toguri was featured in propaganda broadcasts intended to sap the morale of American GIs.  Convicted of treason, she served only 7 years in prison and was pardoned by President Gerald Ford because of some trial testimony was tainted by misconduct by the government.
• Mildred Gillars ("Axis Sally") -- A propaganda broadcaster for Nazi Germany, Gillars was convicted of treason and served twelve years in prison.
• Whiskey Rebels of 1794 -- Farmers in western Pennsylvania rose in rage over a federal tax on whiskey, only to be suppressed by a federal army led by President Washington.  Two of the leaders were convicted of treason, but Washington pardoned both.
• John Fries, 1799 -- Another Pennsylvania tax rebel, Fries was convicted and then pardoned by President John Adams.
• Tomoya Kawakita, 1952 -- An interpreter for the Japanese during World War II, Kawakita was convicted of assisting the torture of American prisoners of war.  He is the last person convicted in an American treason trial.

It's striking that many of the people often referred to as traitors -- Benedict Arnold, John Walker Lindh, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, the leaders of the Southern Confederacy -- never faced treason charges, either for political reasons or because it was easier to convict them of other crimes.

One treason prosecution is still pending.  Adam Yahiye Gadahn (who was born Adam Pearlman in Oregon) has created several propaganda videos for Al-Quaeda.  He was indicted for treason in 2006 in a California federal court, but remains at large. 

The history of Haiti -- which has taken such a terrible turn tis week -- is intertwined with the story of Aaron Burr's western conspiracy.  The slave revolt and war for independence in Haiti in the 1790s and early 1800s intersected with Burr in two important ways.

First, many French refugees from San Domingo (as Haiti was then called) went to New Orleans, where they accentuated the local residents' identification with France and their unhappiness with American rule after the Louisiana Purchase of 1803.  Burr counted on the Creoles of New Orleans to declare their independence and join him in establishing a new nation with Spanish lands in the Floridas, Texas, New Mexico, and Mexico.

Second, slaves in the United States, inspired by the stories from Haiti, attempted their own revolts, most notably "Gabriel's Rebellion" in Richmond, Virginia, in 1800.  After being arrested for treason in early 1807, Burr was held for trial in Richmond in the same prison where Gabriel was confined before he and many confederates were hanged.

In response to the tragedy in Haiti, the John Carter Brown Library in Providence, where I am on a fellowship this month and next, has put up an online exhibit of Haiti's early history.

A striking feature of Aaron Burr's life is the paucity of written material he left behind.  For a man who spent 20 years in public life during the nation's founding, the material left is slim indeed.  The Political Correspondence and Papers of Aaron Burr were published in 1983 and constitute only two volumes.  By way of comparison, the projects to publish papers of other founders have produced much more:

• James Madison -- 30 volumes and still working
• Thomas Jefferson -- 35 volumes and still working
• Alexander Hamilton -- 26 volumes (and done!)

The small yield for Burr is partly due to some very bad luck.  After his acquittal on treason charges in 1807, Burr left many of his papers with his daughter, Theodosia Burr Alston, for safekeeping while he traveled in Europe.  She brought those papers with her when she boarded a ship for New York in late 1812 to meet Burr on his return to America.  The ship, Theodosia, and Burr's papers were lost at sea.

Then Burr left his remaining papers in the care of Matthew Livingston Davis, a longtime acolyte.  It was a mistake.  Davis took it upon himself (perhaps at Burr's direction) to burn large chunks of the papers, particularly those relating to Burr's voluminous correspondence with various paramours.   Davis chopped up other letters, printing only fragments, and made a hash of the whole enterprise.

Davis' most astonishing act of literary violence was the publication of The Private Journal of Aaron Burr, which Burr had compiled during almost four years of wandering in Europe.  Davis took it upon himself to change Burr's journal wherever he wished, making thousands of changes, again removing many of the salacious (that is, interesting) bits.

Fortunately, a railroad tycoon at the turn of the last century (William Bixby) financed a scholarly effort at Washington University of St. Louis to print Burr's actual journal, and brought out 250 copies in a private printing.  Through the magic of the Internet, this full version is now available online.   

Yet there is a more basic reason why Burr's literary harvest is so paltry.  As remembered by Charles Burr Todd, presumed to have been Burr's illegitimate son and manager of Burr's law practice in his old age, Burr always "had a special regard for the maxim that 'things written remain,' and was very careful as to what he wrote." 

And so he wrote down rather little, to the frustration of those, such as I, who attempt to account for his actions many years later.

On January 4, 1810, Aaron Burr met with the poet Johan Goethe in Weimar, Germany.   They were rough contemporaries:  Goethe was 60; Burr 53.   But they were at very different stages in their lives. 

Goethe was a literary giant in 1810, renowned for The Sorrows of Young Werther, and still producing great poetry as he worked on his enduring masterpiece, Faust. 

Burr was an impoverished exile.  He won permanent notoriety when he killed Alexander Hamilton in their 1804 duel, while vice president of the United States.  After leaving office in early 1805, Burr attempted to lead an invasion of Mexico, or an insurrection of America's Western territories, or an ambitious settlement of Western lands -- depending on who you believe. 

Tried for treason in 1807 and acquitted, Burr traveled through Europe from 1808 to 1812, vainly trying to find a sponsor to underwrite an invasion and liberation of South America.  While in Europe, he met with many great figures of the time, striking up an intimate friendship with British philosopher Jeremy Bentham. 

During his European peregrinations, Burr took in all the sights.  Two days before his encounter with the great German poet, he viewed the houses where the Emperor Napoleon and Tsar Alexander I of Russia had stayed during 1806 negotiations.

Of his visit with Goethe, Burr wrote excitedly in his private journal, "This day would make two hundred pages if written out."  Alas, he never did write it out.

So this reporter from the Washington Times -- yes, the Moonie newspaper -- makes a connection between the deals made for Senate votes on health care reform and those made for votes in the Andrew Johnson impeachment trial in 1868.

And he cites my book, in an article on Christmas Eve.

What a world!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Aaron Burr virtually never spoke ill of others.  That trait may partly explain the deep anger that drove him to challenge Alexander Hamilton to their famous duel in 1804 after Hamilton had slandered him for more than a decade. 

Nevertheless, there was one notable exception to Burr's practice:  his explosive denunciation (in private correspondence with his son-in-law) of James Monroe, upon Monroe's nomination as the Republican candidate for president in late 1815:

The man himself is one of the most improper and incompetent that could have been selected -- naturally dull and stupid -- extremely illiterate -- indecisive to a degree that would be incredible to one who did not know him -- pusillanimous and of course hypocritical -- has no opinion on any subject and will be always under the government of the worst men -- pretends, as I am told, to some knowledge of military matters, but never commanded a platoon nor was ever fit to command one -- "He served in the revolutionary War" -- that is, he acted a short time as aide de camp to Lord Stirling who was regularly drunk from morning to morning -- Monroe's whole duty was to fill his lordship's tankard and hear with indications of admiration his lordship's long stories about himself -- Such is Monroe's military experience . . . As a lawyer, Monroe was far below mediocrity -- He never rose to the honor of trying a cause of the value of an hundred pounds.

The lesson here is that it was best not to get Aaron Burr riled up. (I love the "of course hypocritical").  Of course! 

Burr certainly knew Monroe, having served as his second in the foreplay to a duel that never happened between Monroe and Hamilton in 1797.  Hamilton accused Monroe of having leaked to the press information about Hamilton's extramarital affair with Maria Reynolds.  (You're not the first, Tiger.)  Indeed, Burr is often credited with helping resolve that dispute short of bloodshed.

I recalled this passage when I recently caught a Book TV program featuring the author of a new biography of Monroe.  The author carried on for some time about how Monroe had won the Revolution, bought Louisiana, saved the Republic repeatedly, invented both chocolate and sex, and named the planets.  Perhaps a dissenting view will provide some balance.

Monroe doesn't look all that smart in the portrait.

In 1795, Burr advised his daughter Theodosia to retain her serenity at all costs.  If only he had followed his own advice nine years later when he challenged Alexander Hamilton to a duel!

Receive with calmness ever reproof, whether made kindly or unkindly, whether just or unjust.  Consider within yourself whether there has been no cause for it.  If it has been groundless and unjust, nevertheless bear it with composure. . . .[Y]ou will always feel better, much happier, for having borne with the serenity the spleen of anyone, than if you had returned spleen for spleen.

Or, in Hamilton's case, bullet for bullet.  Burr survived the duel, but his reputation did not.

Beginning in early January, I will take up two months of residence (most weekdays) in Providence, Rhode Island, thanks to the Hodson Trust-John Carter Brown Library Fellowship.  The fellowship is granted for those working on a book of American history before 1830 -- my current project on the Aaron Burr Conspiracy, which is under contract to Simon & Schuster, fits those parameters nicely. 

While in Providence, I will have access to the library's collections on early American history, including Hispanic-American materials which can be very helpful with the Burr story.  (One of his major goals was to raise hell with Spanish lands in Texas, Mexico, and West Florida.)  And I also will have help from Brown's reference librarians.

And, yes, there is no question that Providence can be a madhouse during January and February -- often referred to as the city's "high season" -- but I hope to be able to survive the tourist throngs.  I've already signed up to give lectures on Impeached to two Civil War Roundtables while I am in New England, and hope to look up some old friends and make some new ones.

But that's not the end of the beneficence of the Hodson Trust-John Carter Brown Fellowship, no sirree.  In June and July I will be in residence at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland, where my responsibility will be to finish my book.  Which is good, since the manuscript is due in New York in September.  And I hope to get back into cycling shape.  (Great flat rides around there; cycling buddies always welcome.) 

So, if you're in New England or on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, give me a shout.  The show is coming to a community near you!

On January 4, 1799, Aaron Burr wrote to his daughter Theodosia, then 16, about the advantages of good presentation in the world: