Burr had a beautiful city house besides the one on the Hill, but he and Theo both preferred the country place, and they entertained there as lavishly as the Adamses before them.  Burr had a special affection for the French, and his house was always hospitably open to the expatriated aristocrats during the French Revolution.  Volney stopped with him, and Talleyrand, and Louis Philippe himself.  Among the Americans his most constant guests were Dr. Hosack, the Clintons, and, oddly enough, Alexander Hamilton!  Hamilton, one imagines, found Burr personally interesting, though he had small use for his politics, and warned people against him as being that dangerous combination:  a daring and adventurous spirit, quite without conservative principles or scruples.

Burr is described by one biographer as being “a well-dressed man, polite and confident, with hair powdered and tied in a queue.”  He stooped slightly, and did not move with the grace or ease one would have expected from so experienced a soldier, but he had “great authority of manner,” and was uniformly “courtly, witty and charming.”  During one of those legal battles in which he had only one rival (Hamilton) it was reported of him that “Burr conducted the trial with the dignity and impartiality of an angel but with the rigour of a devil!”

Gen. Prosper M. Wetmore, who adores his memory and can find extenuation for anything and everything he did, writes this charming tribute: 

“Born, as it seemed, to adorn society; rich in knowledge; brilliant and instructive in conversation; gifted with a charm of manner that was almost irresistible; he was the idol of all who came within the magic sphere of his friendship and his social influence.”

His enthusiastic historians fail to add that, though he does not seem to have been at all handsome, he was always profoundly fascinating to women.  It is doubtful (in spite of his second marriage at seventy odd) if he ever loved anyone very deeply after his wife Theodosia’s death, but it is very certain indeed that a great, great many loved him!

Richmond Hill was the scene of one exceedingly quaint incident during the very first year that Burr and his young daughter lived in it.

Burr was in Philadelphia on political business, and fourteen-year-old Theo was in charge in the great house on the Hill a mile and a half from New York.  Imagine any modern father leaving his little girl behind in a more or less remote country place with a small army of servants under her and full and absolute authority over them and herself!  But I take it that there are not many modern little girls like Theodosia Burr.  Certainly there are very few who could translate the American Constitution into French, and Theo did that while she was still a slip of a girl, merely to please her adored father!

Which is a digression.

In some way Burr had made the acquaintance of the celebrated Indian Chief of the Mohawks, Tha-yen-da-ne-gea.  He was intelligent, educated and really a distinguished orator, and Burr took a great fancy to him.  The Chief had adopted an American name,—­Joseph Brant,—­and had acquired quite a reputation.  He was en route for Washington, but anxious to see New York before he went.  So Burr sent him to Richmond Hill, and gave him a letter to present to Theo, saying that his daughter would take care of him!