The Osceola times., 1881-07-16
AARON BURR.
\ Walt to the Place where He Closed His
Unhappy Life.

G. Townsend In y. Y. Tribune.
A few months ago took the ferry
boat TO the north or rather the northwest
shore Of Staten Island, and landed at the
village Immediately opposite Bergen
Point, called Port Richmond, SO named
because it is the water landing to old
Richmond court house, az the center of
the island. There is not more animat-
ed spot in the water scenery OF New
York bay than this. Ii shows both the
bay Of New York and Newark bay, the
the latter receiving the commerce of
Newark City aud of the llackenSacS
marshes, and of the Jersey inlets as far
down as the Raritan river. They all
pass out between Port Richmond sud
Bergen point, through the Kill Won
Kull, which is only half mile wide. A
sick man could sit all day long at his
window by this water, watching tugs,
prope,lers. pleasure steamers, sloops and
schooners, oyster crafts. RATS and barge
tows, garbage fleets, yachts and excur-
sion arks filed with music aud dancing,
go past like professions in mirror.
Ii was TO Port Richmond that Colonel
Burrex-Senator and Vice President of
the United States, ex-Attorney General
of the State of New York, ex-candidate
for Governor Of New York and for Min
lister to France, and once almost Presi-
dent of the United States, was brought
present time OF year upon a litter, TO
die. The hotel, now called the Cont
mental, stands nearly as it did at that
moment, right in your face ~ you turn
from the water at Port Richmond and
only few hundred feet distant-a yel-
lowish brown hotel with a gambrel roof
and six tall, spare, thick wooden columns
rising to the caves and inclosing in their
piazza three stories. Ascending the
steps To this piazza a broad door and hall
are right opposite the middle OF it, and a
broad flight of naked steps rises to the
second floor and similar hall there,
and the room to the left, as you look up
from the ground, is the room where
Aaron Burr died. Under it is the bar
room now. The chamber is a square
room, with little carved bits Of carpen-
tering about the chimney side, and it is
Of respectable size, quite bedroom par
lor. Mr.. Burr was borne to it on litter
from the steamboat, an old, helpless
individual, prosecuted by bodily decay
and creditors, and the fear of dying in
the street.
He had lost the confidence of man,
woman and child. Politics had spewed
him out thirty wears before. Family
circles had tried him too often. Women
had found that he would not only kiss
but tell. Clients found that he would
sell theft confidence to the other side.
Aud yet forsaken, friendless and unpit
led, such was the mystery Of this misera-
BILE little man that bali the world said
the President of the United State, then
running for the office before the people,
was the son of Aaron Burr. The religi
GUS world remembered that the greatest
logician and theoloaian since Paul had
been this outcast's grandfather. The ed
ucated class knew that the founder of
Princeton college had been Aaron Bur's
father. Lawyers knew that his sisters
husband had founded the first law school
in the New Void. Once his daughter
had led the fashion and beauty of Wash
ington society and married one of the
richest planters OF the South. He was
about to die in sight of his birthplace at
Newark and Of his orphan home at Eliz'
abeth, where his father and grandfather
had ministered, and whence he had en-
tered the revolutionary army. These
two towns of New Jersey are in plain
sight, ard Elizabeth is only about mile
distant. Fifty years before being brought
to Staten island to die, young Burr,
while on the Washington staff, had pro-
posed TO the General to head an expo
dition against Staten island, every lane
andcornG ofwhich he knew ,havingmade
Is hills his rambling ground from the
fiat. mosquito>ridden plains Of Elizabeth.
1t was perhaps his plsymate's son, Judge
Edwards, resident of Staten Island,
who was almost his only visitor at the
inn. That island of Tories was now
about to receive the last mould and liv-
ing shadow of Aaron Burr.