Late in 1778 General Grey returned to England, when André took the

position of aide to General Clinton, with the rank of provincial major.

He evinced such eminent clerical and executive ability that early in

1779 he was made deputy adjutant-general of the British forces in

America.

The city of New York continued to be the headquarters of the British

army until the close of the war. Clinton made his quarters at No. 1

Broadway, a spacious house, with a garden extending to the Hudson

River. He also occupied the fine Beekman mansion at Turtle Bay as a

summer residence.

The British officers made the city a theatre of great gayety. They were

continually engaged in every kind of amusement, to while away their

time when not on active duty. In these amusements Major André was ever

conspicuous, especially in dramatic performances; and there he freely

indulged his love for good-natured satirical writing. He wrote much for

Rivington's "Gazette" in prose and verse--political squibs, satires,

and lampoons--the "rebels" and their doings being his chief theme.

It was at No. 1 Broadway that André wrote his best-known poem, "The

Cow-Chase," in imitation of "Chevy Chase." There he also wrote his most

elaborate prose composition, "A Dream." This he read aloud at a social

gathering, and it was published in Rivington's paper. In his position

on Clinton's staff he was able to exercise his ever-kindly disposition

toward the unfortunate, and never left unimproved an opportunity to do

so.

Major André was with Sir Henry Clinton on an expedition up the Hudson

in May, 1779, when the British captured the American post of Stony

Point, and Fort Lafayette, on Verplanck's Point, opposite. When the

batteries of Fort Lafayette were silenced, André was sent to receive

the surrender of the garrison and the works. A few weeks later he

wrote a friendly letter to Margaret Shippen (then the wife of General

Benedict Arnold), in whose family the major had been a great favorite

while in Philadelphia. The letter was dated "Headquarters, New York,

the 16th of August, 1779." He offered to do some "shopping" in New York

for Mrs. Arnold, saying:

"It would make me very happy to become useful to you here. You know

the _Mischianza_ made me a complete milliner. Should you not have

received supplies for your fullest equipment for that department, I

shall be glad to enter into the whole detail of cap-wire, needles,

gauze, etc., and to the best of my ability render you in these trifles

services from which I hope you would infer a zeal to be further

employed. I beg you would present my best respects to your sisters, to

the Miss Chews, and to Mrs. Shippen and Mrs. Chew.

"I have the honor to be, with the greatest regard, madam, your most

obedient and most humble servant,

"John André."

General Arnold had been made military governor of Philadelphia after

the American troops and Congress repossessed it. He lived most

extravagantly. He kept a coach-and-four, with a coachman in livery;

gave sumptuous dinner parties, and charmed the gayer portion of

Philadelphia society by his princely display. He was keenly watched by

men who knew his character well, or envied his success as a soldier,

and he was hated by persons in exalted positions for his many bad

qualities. Among the latter was General Joseph Reed, then President

of the Executive Council of Pennsylvania. Early in 1779 that Council

submitted to Congress charges against Arnold of being guilty of

malfeasance in office. Congress referred the charges to a committee of

inquiry, whose report exculpated the general from all criminality in

the matter charged against him.

Arnold promptly asked Congress to investigate the charges. He regarded

this report of the committee as a vindication of his character; but

he immediately urged Congress to act speedily upon the report.

Instead of doing so, the report was referred to a joint committee

of Congress and the Executive Council of Pennsylvania. They passed

a resolution to refer some of the charges to a court-martial, to be

appointed by Washington. When the charges were so referred, Arnold was

indignant, but was compelled to submit. He urged prompt action, but a

court-martial to try him was not convened until December following.

They gave their decision on the 26th of January, 1780. The accused was

acquitted of several of the charges, and of "all intentional wrong"

in the whole matter of the other charges; but it was decided that,

for "imprudent and improper conduct," he should be reprimanded by

the commander-in-chief. This was done in the most delicate manner by

Washington; but, as it implied a stigma upon his character, Arnold

was exceedingly indignant. This act doubtless stimulated him in his

treasonable undertaking, in which he appears to have been already

engaged for fully nine months. Dr. Sparks says: "He [Arnold] had

already made secret advances to the enemy under a feigned name,

intending to square his conduct according to circumstances; and

prepared, if the court decided against him, to seek revenge at any

hazard."

There appears to be clear evidence that overtures were first made by

the other side, probably by Beverly Robinson,[25] to whom is attributed

a letter given by Marbois, who was attached to the French legation at

Philadelphia.[26] Be that as it may, it is known that correspondence

between General Arnold and Sir Henry Clinton began so early as the

spring of 1779. Arnold wrote in a disguised hand, and under the

assumed name of "Gustavus." The tenor of the correspondence was of a

commercial character, so as to mislead others.

After the exchange of two or three letters, and with the impression

that "Gustavus" was an officer of high rank in the American army,

Clinton committed the task of carrying on the correspondence to Major

André, who wrote over the signature of "John Anderson," in a slightly

disguised hand. Not doubting that "Gustavus" was General Arnold, André

probably wrote the letter to Mrs. Arnold in August for the purpose of

making clear to her husband the name and character of "John Anderson"

by means of his handwriting:

[Illustration:

I am in behalf of Mi'm ---- and Co.

Sin your Obed. Hble Servant

Mr. John Anderson

Merchant Gustavus

Fac-simile of Arnold's Disguised Handwriting.]

[Illustration:

Let me entreat you Sir to favour a matter interesting to the parties

concerned.

John Anderson

Fac-simile of André's Disguised Handwriting.]

Major André was with Sir Henry Clinton at the siege and capture of

Charleston in the spring of 1780, and there is clear evidence that he

played the part of a spy in that tragedy. It is asserted that Edward

Shrewsberry, a respectable citizen of Charleston, but a suspected Tory,

was ill at his house on East Bay during the siege. His Whig brother,

who belonged to the American army, frequently visited him. He saw at

his Tory brother's house, on several occasions, a young man clad in

homespun, who was introduced to him as a Virginian, also belonging

to the patriot army. After the capitulation, and the British were

in possession of the city, the Continental soldier saw at the house

of his sick brother the same young man, but in different apparel,

who was introduced to him as Major André, of the British army. His

brother afterward confessed that the major and the homespun-clad young

"Virginian" were one and the same man. To another visitor this young

man in homespun was introduced by Shrewsberry as "a back-country

man who had brought down cattle for the garrison." He was afterward

informed that the cattle-driver was Major André.

If these assertions be true--and there is no reason for doubting their

truth--Major André did not hesitate, when an occasion offered, to play

the part of a spy for the benefit of his king and country. Six months

afterward, when circumstances had placed him in that position, and he

was a prisoner, he expressed, in a letter to Washington, a desire to

rescue himself from "an imputation of having assumed a mean character

for treacherous purposes or self-interest."

In the early autumn of 1780 Major André was made adjutant-general

of the British forces in America. He was then busy in consummating

the intrigue and conspiracy with Arnold. The time had arrived when

it had become necessary to bring matters to a head--to settle upon a

definite plan and time for action, terms, etc. Arnold had, at his own

earnest solicitation, been appointed to the command at West Point and

its dependencies in August, and had resolved to surrender that strong

post into the hands of the enemies of his country. It was an object of

covetous desire on the part of the British, for the possession of it

would open a free communication between New York and Canada, which they

had been endeavoring to secure ever since the invasion of Burgoyne in

1777. The subject of the surrender of West Point was the burden of the

correspondence between Arnold and André early in September.

At midsummer, 1780, an occasion drew from Major André's pen his most

notable satirical poem, in imitation, in structure and metre, of the

famous old British ballad, "Chevy Chase." It appears to have been

written for the twofold purpose of gratifying his own quick perception

of the ludicrous and to retaliate in kind the satirical attacks of

Whig writers upon him and his friends. The occasion was an expedition

in July against a block-house on the west bank of the Hudson, three

or four miles below Fort Lee, at the base of the Palisades, which was

occupied by a British picket of seventy men--loyal refugees--for the

protection of some wood-cutters and the neighboring Tories.

On Bergen Neck, not far from the block-house, were a large number of

cattle and horses within reach of the British foragers who might go

out from the fort at Paulus' Hook (now Jersey City). Washington sent

General Wayne with horse and foot--less than two thousand men--to

storm the block-house and to drive the cattle within the American

lines. Wayne sent the cavalry under Major Henry Lee ("Legion Harry,"

father of the late General Robert E. Lee, of the Confederate army),

to perform the latter duty, while he, with three regiments, marched

against the block-house with four pieces of light artillery. A brief

but sharp skirmish ensued. The assailants were compelled to retire,

and Wayne returned to camp with a large number of cattle driven by the

dragoons. The failure to capture the block-house was attributed to the

ineffectualness of the small cannons.

The "Cow-Chase" was published in Rivington's "Gazette," the last canto

on the day of the author's arrest as a spy at Tarrytown. He made

copies of the poem for his friends. Of one of these, belonging to the

late Rev. Dr. Sprague, of Albany, I was permitted, in 1849, to make

the following copy of the poem given in the next chapter; also the

fac-simile given of the last stanza of the poem in the handwriting of

Major André.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 24: This poem, with explanatory notes, may be found in Frank

Moore's "Ballads of the Revolution."]

[Footnote 25: Beverly Robinson was a gentleman of fortune, a son-in-law

of Frederick Phillipse, proprietor of Phillipse Manor on the Hudson,

and a very active Tory.]

[Footnote 26: See a copy of this letter in the "Life and Career of John

André," by Winthrop Sargent, p. 447.]

CHAPTER IV.

COW-CHASE.

BY MAJOR JOHN ANDRÉ.

Elizabethtown, _August 1, 1780_.

CANTO I.

To drive the kine, one summer's morn,

The tanner[27] took his way:

The calf shall rue that is unborn

The jumbling of that day.

And Wayne descending steers shall know,

And tauntingly deride,

And call to mind, in ev'ry low,

The tanning of his hide.

Let Bergen cows still ruminate

Unconscious in the stall,

What mighty means were used to get,

And lose them after all.

For many heroes bold and brave

From New Bridge and Tapaan,

And those that drink Passaic's wave,

And those that eat soupaan;[28]

And sons of distant Delaware,

And still remoter Shannon,

And Major Lee with horses rare,

And Proctor with his cannon--

All wondrous proud in arms they came!

What hero could refuse

To tread the rugged path to fame,

Who had a pair of shoes?[29]

At six the host, with sweating buff,

Arrived at Freedom's Pole,[30]

When Wayne, who thought he'd time enough,

Thus speechified the whole:

"O ye whom glory doth unite,

Who Freedom's cause espouse,

Whether the wing that's doomed to fight,

Or that to drive the cows;

"Ere yet you tempt your further way,

Or into action come,

Hear, soldiers, what I have to say,

And take a pint of rum.[31]

"Intemperate valor then will string

Each nervous arm the better,

So all the land shall IO! sing,

And read the gen'ral's letter.[32]

"Know that some paltry refugees,

Whom I've a mind to fight,

Are playing h--l among the trees

That grow on yonder height!

"Their fort and block-house we'll level,

And deal a horrid slaughter;

We'll drive the scoundrels to the devil,

And ravish wife and daughter.

"I under cover of th' attack,

Whilst you are all at blows,

From English Neighb'rhood and Tinack

Will drive away the cows.

"For well you know the latter is

The serious operation,

And fighting with the refugees[33]

Is only--demonstration."

His daring words from all the crowd

Such great applause did gain,

That every man declared aloud

For serious work with--Wayne.

Then from the cask of rum once more

They took a heavy gill,

When one and all they loudly swore

They'd fight upon the hill.

But here--the Muse has not a strain

Befitting such great deeds:

"Hurra," they cried, "hurra for Wayne!"

And, shouting--did their needs.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 27: André seems to have been impressed with the idea that the

occupation of General Wayne, the leader of the expedition, was that of

a tanner in his early life.

A few foot-notes were made to the poem when it was published in

England. These are here placed in italics. The remainder are by the

author of this volume.]

[Footnote 28: _A hasty-pudding made of the meal of Indian corn._]

[Footnote 29: This is in allusion to the fact that many of the American

soldiers, at that time, were without shoes or stockings.]

[Footnote 30: _Freedom's, i.e., liberty-pole--a long stick stuck in the

ground._]

[Footnote 31: Rum was the usual kind of spirituous liquor that formed a

portion of the rations of the soldiers.]

[Footnote 32: In his letter to Congress (July 26, 1780) concerning this

expedition, Washington spoke of the American cannons being "too light

to penetrate the logs of which it [the block-house] was constructed."

He also attributed the great loss of the Americans in that attack to

the "intemperate valor" of the men. André exercised a poetical license

in putting these words into the mouth of Wayne before the occurrence.]

[Footnote 33: Loyalists expelled from the American lines.]

CANTO II.

Near his meridian pomp the sun

Had journeyed from th' horizon,

When fierce the dusky tribe moved on,

Of heroes drunk as poison.

The sounds confused, of boasting oaths,

Re-echoed through the wood:

Some vowed to sleep in dead men's clothes,

And some to swim in blood.

At Irvine's nod, 'twas fine to see

The left prepared to fight,

The while the drovers, Wayne and Lee

Drew off upon the right.

Which Irvine 'twas Fame don't relate,

Nor can the Muse assist her--

Whether 'twas he that cocks a hat,

Or he that gives a glister.

For greatly one was signalized,

That fought at Chestnut Hill,

And Canada immortalized

The vender of the pill.[34]

Yet the attendance upon Proctor

They both might have to boast of;

For there was business for the doctor,

And hats to be disposed of.

Let none uncandidly infer

That Stirling wanted spunk,

The self-made Peer[35] had sure been there,

But that the Peer was drunk.

But turn we to the Hudson's banks,

Where stood the modest train,

With purpose firm, though slender ranks,

Nor cared a pin for Wayne.

For then the unrelenting hand

Of rebel fury drove,

And tore from ev'ry genial hand

Of friendship and of love.

And some within a dungeon's gloom,

By mock tribunals laid,

Had waited long a cruel doom,

Impending o'er their head.

Here one bewails a brother's fate,

There one a sire demands,

Cut off, alas! before their date,

By ignominious hands.

And silvered grandsires here appeared

In deep distress serene,

Of reverend manners that declared

The better days they'd seen.

Oh! cursed rebellion, these are thine,

Thine are these tales of woe;

Shall at thy dire, insatiate shrine

Blood never cease to flow?

And now the foe began to lead

His forces to the attack;

Balls whistling unto balls succeed,

And make the block-house crack.

No shot could pass, if you will take

The gen'ral's word for true;[36]

But 'tis a d----le mistake,

For ev'ry shot went through.

The firmer as the rebels pressed,

The loyal heroes stand;

Virtue had nerved each honest breast,

And industry each hand.

In valor's frenzy, Hamilton[37]

Rode like a soldier big,

And Secretary Harrison[38]

With pen stuck in his wig.

But, lest chieftain Washington

Should mourn them in the mumps,[39]

The fate of Withington to shun,

They fought _behind_ the stumps.[40]

But ah! Thaddeus Posset, why

Should thy poor soul elope?

And why should Titus Hooper die--

Ah! die without a rope?

Apostate Murphy, thou to whom

Fair Shela ne'er was cruel;

_In death shalt hear her_ mourn thy doom,

"Och! would ye die, my jewel?"

Thee, Nathan Pumpkin, I lament,

Of melancholy fate;

The gray goose, stolen as he went,

In his heart's blood was wet.

Now, as the fight was further fought,

And balls began to thicken,

The fray assumed, the gen'rals thought,

The color of a licking.

Yet undismayed, the chiefs command,

And, to redeem the day,

Cry, "Soldiers, charge!" They hear, they stand--

They turn and run away!

CANTO III.

Not all delights the bloody spear,

Or horrid din of battle;

There are, I'm sure, who'd like to hear

A word about the rattle.

The chief whom we beheld of late

Near Schralenberg haranguing,

At Yan Van Poop's[41] unconscious sat

Of Irvine's hearty banging;

While valiant Lee, with courage wild,

Most bravely did oppose

The tears of women and of child,

Who begged he'd leave the cows.

But Wayne, of sympathizing heart,

Required a relief

Not all the blessings could impart

Of battle or of beef.

For now a prey to female charms,

His soul took more delight in

A lovely Hamadryad's[42] arms,

Than cow-driving or fighting.

A nymph, the refugees had drove

Far from her native tree,

Just happened to be on the move,

When up came Wayne and Lee.

She in mad Anthony's fierce eye

The hero saw portrayed,

And, all in tears, she took him by

The bridle of his jade.[43]

"Hear," said the nymph, "O great commander,

No human lamentations;

The trees you see them cutting yonder

Are all my near relations.

"And I, forlorn, implore thine aid

To free the sacred grove;

So shall thy prowess be repaid

With an immortal's love."

Now some, to prove she was a goddess,

Said this enchanting fair

Had late retired from the _Bodies_[44]

In all the pomp of war;

That drums and merry fifes had played

To honor her retreat,

And Cunningham[45] himself conveyed

The lady through the street.

Great Wayne, by soft compassion swayed,

To no inquiry stoops,

But takes the fair, afflicted maid

_Right_ into Yan Van Poop's.

So Roman Anthony, they say,

Disgraced the imperial banner,

And for a gypsy lost a day,

Like Anthony the tanner.

The Hamadryad had but half

Received redress from Wayne,

When drums and colors, cow and calf,

Came down the road amain.

All in a cloud of dust were seen

The sheep, the horse, the goat,

The gentle heifer, ass obscene,

The yearling, and the shoat.

And pack-horses with fowls came by,

Befeathered on each side,

Like Pegasus, the horse that I

And other poets ride.

Sublime upon the stirrups rose

The mighty Lee behind,

And drove the terror-smitten cows

Like chaff before the wind!

But sudden see the woods above

Pour down another corps,

All helter-skelter in a drove,

Like that I sung before.

Irvine and terror in the van

Came flying all abroad,

And cannon, colors, horse, and man,

Ran tumbling to the road.

Still as he fled, 'twas Irvine's cry,

And his example too:

"Run on, my merry men, all--for why?"

The shot will not go through.

Five refugees, 'tis true, were found

Stiff on the block-house floor;

But then, 'tis thought, the shot went round,

And in at the back door!

As when two kennels in the street,

Swelled with a recent rain,

In gushing streams together meet,

And seek the neighboring drain--

So meet these dung-born tribes in one,

As swift in their career,

And so to New Bridge they ran on,

But all the cows got clear.

Poor Parson Caldwell, all in wonder,

Saw the returning train,

And mourned to Wayne the lack of plunder,

For them to steal again.[46]

For 'twas his right to seize the spoil, and

To share with each commander,

As he had done at Staten Island

With frost-bit Alexander.[47]

In his dismay, the frantic priest

Began to grow prophetic,

You had swore, to see his lab'ring breast,

He'd taken an emetic!

"I view a future day," said he,

"Brighter than this day dark is,

And you shall see what you shall see,

Ha! ha! one pretty marquis;[48]

"And he shall come to Paulus Hook,[49]

And great achievements think on,

And make a bow and take a look,

Like Satan over Lincoln.

"And all the land around shall glory

To see the Frenchmen caper,

And pretty Susan[50] tell the story

In the next Chatham paper."

This solemn prophecy, of course,

Gave all much consolation;

Except to Wayne, who lost his horse

Upon the great occasion--

His horse that carried all his prog,

His military speeches,

His corn-stalk whisky for his grog--

Blue stockings and brown breeches.

And now I've closed my epic strain,

I tremble as I show it,

Lest this same warrio-drover, Wayne,

Should ever catch the poet.[51]

[Illustration:

And now I've clos'd my Epic strain,

I tremble as I shew it,

Lest this same warrio-drover Wayne

Should ever catch the Poet.

Finis

Fac-simile of the last Stanza of the Cow-Chase.]

CHAPTER V.

We have seen that Arnold, at his own earnest solicitation, had been

appointed to the command of West Point in August, 1780. It was then

known to Sir Henry Clinton that "Gustavus" was no other than General

Arnold. Everything was ripe for the consummation of the plot; both

parties were anxious for the end.

It was a gloomy hour in the history of the great struggle, aside from

the contemplated act of foul treason. Charleston had fallen in May, and

an American army there had been made prisoners. Gates had been defeated

near Camden in August, and another American army dispersed. The South

was in possession of the enemy; New Jersey was in nearly the same

condition, and on Manhattan Island lay a strong army of veteran British

soldiers. This was the moment sagaciously chosen by Arnold to strike a

fatal blow at the liberties of his country.

At the close of August Arnold wrote to André, in the usual disguise

of commercial phrases, demanding a personal interview at an American

outpost in Westchester County, the latter to come in the disguise of

"John Anderson," a bearer of intelligence from New York. But André was

not disposed to enter the American lines in disguise. A meeting of

André and Beverly Robinson with General Arnold, at Dobb's Ferry, on the

neutral ground, on September 11th, was arranged; but the interview was

prevented by providential interposition--an interposition in favor of

the American cause so conspicuously manifested in every stage of this

conspiracy.

Washington had made arrangements for a conference, at Hartford, on

the 20th of September, with the Count de Rochambeau, the commander

of the French forces, then at Newport, Rhode Island, who had come to

assist the Americans in their struggle. It was arranged between Arnold

and André that the surrender of West Point should take place during

Washington's absence. A personal interview for the purpose of settling

everything concerning the great transaction was absolutely necessary,

and a meeting of the complotters was appointed to take place on the

night of the 21st of September, on the west side of the Hudson, in a

lonely spot not far from the hamlet of Haverstraw.

Beverly Robinson and a few others were sharers in the great secret; and

there were vague rumors in the air that Major André was engaged in an

enterprise which, if successful, would end the war, and redound to his

honor and secure him great renown--a baronetcy and a brigadiership,

perhaps. It is said that Sir Henry Clinton promised these rewards to

his adjutant-general. In confirmation of the truth of this assertion,

an incident that occurred on the day when André left New York to meet

Arnold may here be cited.

On the 20th of September (1780) Colonel Williams, whose headquarters

were in the Kip mansion, at Kip's Bay, foot of (present) Thirty-fourth

Street, East River, gave a dinner-party to General Sir Henry Clinton

and his staff. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and there were exuberant

Tories around the banquet-table on that occasion. The spirits of Sir

Henry were specially buoyant, for he was anticipating a great victory

in the near future. His accomplished adjutant-general, Major André, was

with him.

When the band had ceased playing the favorite dinner air, "The Roast

Beef of Old England," many toasts were drunk. At length Colonel

Williams arose and said: "Sir Henry, our adjutant-general appears very

dull this afternoon. We all know what a brave soldier, what a genial

companion, what a charming song-bird he is; and yet music is, perhaps,

the least among his accomplishments. I call upon the adjutant-general

for a song." Colonel Williams then said, "Gentlemen, I offer the toast,

'Major John André, our worthy adjutant-general, the brave soldier and

accomplished gentleman.'"

The toast was greeted with great applause. Then André arose and said:

"Yes, Colonel Williams, I do feel rather serious this afternoon, and

I can give no particular reason for it. I will sing, however, as you

request me to." Then he sang, with great sweetness and much pathos, the

old familiar camp-song, beginning--

"Why, soldiers, why,

Should we be melancholy, boys?

Why, soldiers, why,

Whose business 'tis to die!

For should next campaign

Send us to Him who made us, boys,

We're free from pain;

But should we remain,

A bottle and kind landlady

Makes all well again."

With a trembling and husky voice the usually gay young soldier thanked

the company for the honor they had done him, when Sir Henry said: "A

word in addition, gentlemen, if you please. The major leaves the city

on duty to-night, which will most likely terminate in making plain John

André _Sir_ John André--for success must crown his efforts."

Major André left the hilarious company with a countenance saddened by

an indefinable presentiment of impending disaster, and departed on that

fatal mission involved in his complot with General Arnold.

André went up the Hudson that evening in the sloop-of-war _Vulture_,

twenty-four, to have the arranged personal interview with Arnold. He

was accompanied by Beverly Robinson. The vessel was anchored between

Teller's (now Croton) Point and Verplanck's Point, and lay there all

the next day. Arnold had agreed to send a boat to the _Vulture_ to

convey André to the shore at the appointed time. For that service he

had employed Joshua H. Smith, an intimate acquaintance and a gentleman

farmer, at whose house Mrs. Arnold had been entertained a few days

before, while on her way to join her husband at his headquarters.

Smith's house is yet standing, upon an eminence known as Treason Hill,

between Stony Point and Haverstraw. It overlooks a picturesque region,

with Haverstraw Bay in the foreground.

[Illustration: The Smith House.]

The place appointed for the meeting of the conspirators was at a lonely

spot in a thicket at the foot of Torn Mountain, near the west shore

of the Hudson, about two miles below Haverstraw. It was outside the

American lines. Smith appeared in a small boat, with two stout oarsmen,

at the side of the _Vulture_ at midnight. André was ready to accompany

him. He covered his scarlet uniform with a long blue surtout. Clinton

had instructed him to have nothing to do with papers of any kind, and

he went ashore empty-handed.

It was a little past midnight when André was landed on the beach at

the mouth of a little creek. He was conducted by Smith to Arnold's

place of concealment, and there in the dimmed starlight these notable

conspirators, who had long communed through mysterious epistles, met

face to face for the first time. At Arnold's request, Smith went back

to his boat to await the return of André, who was to be conveyed again

to the _Vulture_ before daybreak.

The interview was long protracted. It was not ended when the eastern

horizon began to kindle with the dawn. Both men were anxious to

complete the business at that time. Arnold had two horses with him,

one of them ridden by his servant. He now proposed that André should

mount his servant's horse and ride with him to Smith's house and there

complete the arrangement. The major reluctantly consented to do so,

with the understanding that he was to be conveyed to the _Vulture_ as

soon as possible.

As the two horsemen approached the little hamlet of Haverstraw they

were challenged by a sentinel. André was alarmed. He was, unwittingly,

within the American lines; but he had gone too far, however, to recede,

and they rode on together to Smith's house. By ten o'clock they

had finished their business, when Arnold, after handing André some

papers containing all needed information concerning the post to be

surrendered, departed in his barge for West Point.

It had been arranged that Sir Henry Clinton should ascend the Hudson

with a strong force on the 25th, and attack the important post; and

Arnold, after making a show of resistance, should surrender it, with

all the men and munitions of war, on the plea of the weakness of the

garrison. A part of the plan was the seizure of Washington, who was to

return on the 27th. For this service the traitor was to receive from

the king the commission of brigadier-general in the royal army, and

fifty thousand dollars in gold. The surrender was not effected, but

Arnold received the commission, and nearly forty thousand dollars in

gold.

When the conspirators arrived at Smith's house at sunrise, André was

alarmed at the disappearance of the _Vulture_. She had been cannonaded

from Verplanck's Point, and compelled to drop down the river.

Just after the departure of Arnold, the _Vulture_ reappeared at her

anchorage of the night before. André urged Smith to take him to the

sloop immediately, but he declined, giving various reasons for his

conduct. He was really afraid to perform the service, and the British

adjutant-general was kept in a state of great anxiety on Treason Hill

until evening. Arnold had intimated that the major might be compelled

to cross the river and return to New York by land. To provide for any

contingency, he furnished passports, one to secure to André a safeguard

through the American posts to the neutral ground, and another to secure

such safety in passing down the river in a boat to Dobb's Ferry.

Smith decided that André must return by land. He tried to procure an

American uniform for the major's disguise, but could not, and his guest

was compelled to accept an old purple or crimson coat, trimmed with

threadbare gold lace, and a tarnished beaver hat belonging to Smith.

The rest of his suit was his military undress, nankeen small-clothes,

and white-topped boots. His long surtout with a cape covered all.

In violation of Clinton's positive orders, André took away the papers

which Arnold had given him. These he concealed in his stockings beneath

his feet. So equipped, and bearing Arnold's passports, André mounted a

black horse which the American general had provided for his use, and

at twilight, accompanied by Smith and his negro servant, he crossed

the river at the King's Ferry, went safely through the American works

at Verplanck's Point, and reluctantly spent the night at a farm-house

below the Croton River, within the American lines. The travelers slept

together. It was a weary and restless night for André. They arose early

and rode on some distance together. After breakfast they parted company

at Pine's bridge, André pushing on within the neutral ground. He was

induced to leave the road leading to the White Plains, which he had

been directed to take, and, turning westward at Chappaqua, he followed

another road nearer the river, which led him to Tarrytown. This was a

fatal mistake.

The neutral ground, extending from King's Bridge nearly to the

Croton River, was swarming with Tories. It was the region of great

manors, whose owners were loyalists, and their retainers were their

political followers. It was a most uncomfortable dwelling-place for

the comparatively few Whig inhabitants. It was infested with gangs of

marauders, who were called "cow-boys." They were constantly stealing

the cattle of the Whigs and driving them off to the British army in

New York. The patriotic inhabitants, especially the young men, armed

themselves in defense of their property.

On the morning of Friday, the 23d of September (1780), seven young men,

farmers and neighbors--John Paulding, Isaac Van Wart, David Williams,

John Yerks and three others--were out on a scout together. They seem

to have been a sort of guerrillas, acting independently in intercepting

marauders and arresting suspicious-looking travelers. Paulding had been

a prisoner in New York a short time before, and had escaped in the

disguise of a Hessian coat which a friend had procured for him. This

coat he now wore.

Three of the four young men above named were playing cards in a thicket

near the highway, half a mile from Tarrytown, at about nine o'clock in

the morning, when a well-dressed horseman approached on a black steed.

He was a stranger, and the young men concluded to stop him and inquire

about his errand. Paulding, who was the leader of the little band,

stepped out of the bushes with his musket, and ordered the traveler to

halt and give an account of himself. Seeing Paulding with a British

military coat on, and knowing that he was far below the American lines

and nearer those of the British, the horseman said to the three young

scouts:

"My lads, I hope you belong to our party."

"What party?" asked Paulding.

"The lower party--the British."

"We do," said Paulding.

Completely thrown off his guard, the traveler exclaimed with much

animation: "Thank God, I am once more among friends! I am a British

officer, out in the country on particular business, and hope you will

not detain me a minute."

"We are Americans," said Paulding, seizing the bridle of the horse,

"and you are our prisoner."

The traveler was shocked, but, assuming composure, he said, "I must do

anything to get along," and with apparent unconcern he pulled from his

pocket Arnold's passport, which read:

"Headquarters, Robinson's House, _September 22, 1780_.

Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass the guards to the White Plains, or

below if he chooses, he being on public business by my direction.

"B. Arnold, _Major-General_."

[Illustration:

Head Quarters Robinsons

House Sep.^t 22^d--1780

Permit M.r John Anderson to pass the Guards to the White Plains, or

below if He Chooses, He being on Public Business by my Direction

B. Arnold MGenl

Arnold's Passport]

The suspicions of the young men were now thoroughly aroused. Making the

traveler dismount, they searched every part of his clothing, but found

nothing of importance.

"Try his boots," said Van Wart.

They compelled him to sit upon a log by the road-side, and, pulling

off his boots, they discovered, by the bagging of his stocking-feet,

several papers. These Paulding, the only one of the young men who could

read, glanced over and exclaimed:

"My God! he is a spy!"

Major John André, adjutant-general of the British army, was their

prisoner, but they did not know it. They believed that he was a British

officer, as he himself at first announced. They questioned him closely

about the papers in his boots, but he became very reticent. He offered

them large bribes to induce them to let him pass. He offered them

his gold watch. They refused. "I will give you a hundred guineas and

any amount of dry goods," he said. They refused. "I will give you a

thousand guineas," he said, "and you can hold me as a hostage till one

of your number return with the money."

"We would not let you go for ten thousand guineas!" said Paulding, in a

loud voice. That decision settled the fate of André.

The prisoner then requested his captors to take him to the nearest

American post, and ask him no more questions. They complied. He was

seated on his horse, which one of them alternately led, while the

others marched alongside as guards.

Such was the story of André's capture, as related by the three young

men. Major André declared that the sole object of the captors in

arresting him was evidently plunder; that they searched every part

of him, even his saddle and his boots, for gold; and that, if he had

possessed sufficient in specie (he had only some Continental bills), he

might have easily persuaded them to let him go. But the preponderance

of contemporary testimony is in favor of the captors' story. Washington

wrote to Congress:

"Their conduct merits our warmest esteem, and I beg leave to add that I

think the public would do well to grant them a handsome gratuity. They

have prevented, in all probability, our suffering one of the severest

strokes that could have been meditated against us."

[Illustration: John Paulding

(From a Miniature in possession of the late James K. Paulding.)]

Congress complimented the captors on their fidelity and patriotism by a

resolution of thanks, ordered that an annuity of two hundred dollars in

specie should be paid to each out of the public treasury, and directed

the Board of War to have a silver medal of appropriate design struck

and given to each. These medals Washington presented to the captors

in person. Tradition tells us that André would undoubtedly have

been released but for the strong will and patriotic impulses of John

Paulding, then only twenty-two years of age.

André was delivered to Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson, then in command

of Sheldon's dragoons and a few Connecticut militia at North Salem.

That honest officer believed the captive to be what Arnold's passport

proclaimed him, simply "John Anderson," on public business by direction

of his general, and treated him very kindly as such. The prisoner

requested Jameson to inform Arnold that John Anderson was a captive,

in his custody. The honest, unsuspicious Jameson complied. He wrote to

Arnold to this effect, explaining how Anderson came to be a prisoner,

and concluded that the simplest way in the matter would be to send the

captive to Arnold with the letter! He detailed Lieutenant Allen and

four of the militia to take both to headquarters, and at the same time

sent the papers found in André's boot by express to Washington, who was

then on his way from Hartford.

André was delighted by the turn affairs had taken, for now there

appeared a way of escape for both Arnold and himself. The escort with

the prisoner were some distance on their way, when Major Benjamin

Tallmadge, a vigilant and active officer of the dragoons, returned

to Jameson's quarters after a brief absence. Learning all about the

capture and the nature of the papers found on the prisoner, he at once

pronounced him a spy and Arnold a traitor. He persuaded Jameson to

order the return of the prisoner, agreeing to bear all blame himself

for the act. The captive was brought back, but, unfortunately, Allen

proceeded alone with Jameson's letter to Arnold.

André was committed to the care of Lieutenant King, of the dragoons,

who was convinced, by the prisoner's manner and other tokens, that he

was no ordinary man. Finally, the captive requested King to walk with

him in a large yard attached to the house in which they were, when the

prisoner said, "I must make a confidant of somebody, and I know not a

more proper person than yourself, you have treated me so kindly." He

then made a full confession of his rank, and gave a brief narrative of

his career in America since his capture at St. Johns. Procuring writing

materials, he wrote the following letter to Washington:

"Salem, _the 24th September, 1780_.

"Sir: What I have as yet said concerning myself was in the justifiable

attempt to be extricated. I am too little accustomed to duplicity to

have succeeded.

"I beg your Excellency will be persuaded that no alteration in the

temper of my mind, or apprehension for my safety, induces me to take

the step of addressing you, but that it is to rescue myself from an

imputation of having assumed a mean character for treacherous purposes

or self-interest, a conduct incompatible with the principles which

actuate me, as well as my condition in life. It is to vindicate my

fame that I speak, and not to solicit security. The person in your

possession is Major John André, adjutant-general in the British army.

"The influence of one commander with another in the army of his

adversary is an advantage taken in war. A correspondence for this

purpose I held, as confidential, in the present instance, with his

Excellency Sir Henry Clinton.

"To favor it, I agreed to meet upon ground not within the posts of

either army a person who was to give me intelligence. I came up in the

_Vulture_ man-of-war for this effect, and was fetched by a boat from

the shore to the beach; being there, I was told that the approach of

day would prevent my return, and that I must be concealed until the

next night. I was in my regimentals, and had fairly risked my person.

"Against my stipulation and without my knowledge beforehand, I was

conducted within one of your posts. Your Excellency will conceive my

sensation on this occasion, and will imagine how much more I must have

been affected, by a refusal to reconduct me back the next night as I

had been brought. Thus become a prisoner, I had to concert my escape.

I quitted my uniform, and was passed another way in the night, without

the American posts to neutral ground, and informed I was beyond

all armed parties, and left to press for New York. I was taken at

Tarrytown by some volunteers. Thus, as I have had the honor to relate,

was I betrayed (being adjutant-general of the British army) into the

vile condition of an enemy in disguise within your posts.

"Having avowed myself a British officer, I have nothing to reveal but

what relates to myself, which is true, on the honor of an officer

and a gentleman. The request I have to make to your Excellency, and

I am conscious I address myself well, that in any rigor feeling

may dictate, a decency of conduct toward me may mark, that, though

unfortunate, I am branded with nothing dishonorable, as no motive

could be mine but the service of my King, and as I was an involuntary

impostor.

"Another request is, that I may be permitted to write an open letter

to Sir Henry Clinton, and another to a friend for clothes and linen.

"I take the liberty to mention the condition of some gentlemen at

Charlestown, who, being either on parole or under protection, were

engaged in a conspiracy against us. Though their situation is not

exactly similar, they are objects who may be set in exchange for me,

or are persons whom the treatment I receive may affect.

"It is no less, sir, in a confidence in the generosity of your mind,

than on account of your superior station, that I have chosen to

importune you with this letter.

"I have the honor to be, with great respect, sir, your Excellency's

most obedient and most humble servant,

"John André, _Adjutant-General_.

"His Excellency General WASHINGTON."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 34: _One of the Irvines was a hatter; the other was a

physician._ It was probably the latter--Dr. William Irvine--who

was in this expedition, for he was then in command of the Second

Pennsylvania Regiment. He had been a captain in Canada about two years.

Brigadier-General Irvine was made a prisoner at Chestnut Hill, near

Philadelphia, in December, 1777.]

[Footnote 35: William Alexander, Lord Stirling, was a general in the

Continental army. He had been frustrated in obtaining a Scottish estate

and peerage to which he was clearly entitled. He assumed the title as a

right.]

[Footnote 36: General Wayne reported that, owing to the lightness

of his field-pieces, the shot did not penetrate the logs of the

block-house.]

[Footnote 37: _Vide Lee's trial._ General Charles Lee, in his testimony

at his trial by court-martial, after the battle of Monmouth, spoke of

"Colonel Hamilton flourishing his sword" after delivering a message

from Washington on the battle-field, and saying, "'I will stay, and we

will all die here on this spot.' I could not but be surprised," said

Lee, "at his expression, but observed him much fluttered, and in a sort

of frenzy of valor."]

[Footnote 38: Richard Harrison, Washington's secretary.]

[Footnote 39: _A disorder prevalent in the rebel lines._]

[Footnote 40: _The merit of these lines, which is doubtless very great,

can only be felt by true connoisseurs conversant in ancient song._ In

"Chevy Chase" occurs the stanza:

"For Witherington needs must I wayle,

As one in doleful dumps;

For when his legges were smitten off,

He fought upon his stumps."]

[Footnote 41: _Who kept a dram-shop._]

[Footnote 42: _A deity of the woods._]

[Footnote 43: _A New England name for a horse, mare, or gelding._]

[Footnote 44: _A cant appellation given among the soldiers to the corps

that has the honor to guard his Majesty's person_--a body-guard.]

[Footnote 45: William Cunningham, the veteran provost-marshal at New

York.]

[Footnote 46: Rev. James Caldwell, an earnest Whig of New Jersey, and

pastor of a church at Connecticut Farms. His wife had been shot by

a newly enlisted soldier in her own house, when the British, under

Knyphausen, made a raid upon Springfield in 1778.]

[Footnote 47: _Calling himself, because he was ordered not to do it,

Earl of Stirling, though no sterling earl._ (See foot-note, page 71.)

In a winter expedition to Staten Island a larger proportion of his

soldiers were frost-bitten.]

[Footnote 48: _Lafayette._]

[Footnote 49: Now Jersey City, where the British had a redoubt. This

Major Henry Lee surprised, in August, 1779, and carried away one

hundred and fifty-nine of the garrison prisoners.]

[Footnote 50: Mrs. Susannah Livingston, a daughter of Governor William

Livingston, of New Jersey, who was suspected of political authorship.]

[Footnote 51: It so happened that when André was taken to Tappaan he

was delivered to the custody of Wayne. The latter was not a member of

the board of inquiry. Frank Moore says that, under André's signature to

a MS. copy of the "Cow-Chase," some one wrote:

"When the epic strain was sung,

The poet by the neck was hung,

And to his cost he finds, too late,

The 'dung-born tribe' decides his fate."]

CHAPTER VI.

Washington lodged at Fishkill, eighteen miles from West Point, on the

night of September 24th, and early the next morning (the day appointed

for Clinton to ascend the river and receive the surrender of the

post in the Highlands) he and his companions reached the vicinity of

Arnold's quarters, where they intended to breakfast. He and two or

three officers turned aside to inspect a redoubt, while Lafayette,

Hamilton, and other young officers, rode forward with a message from

their chief to Mrs. Arnold, bidding her not to delay breakfast on his

account.

While these officers were at table with Arnold and his wife, a courier

arrived with a letter to the general. It was Jameson's letter, brought

by Allen, telling Arnold of the arrest of "John Anderson," and the

sending of the papers found in his boots to Washington. Arnold glanced

at the letter, sat a few minutes in general conversation, and then

asked to be excused. His wife perceived anxiety in his countenance,

and, leaving the table, followed him out of the room. He commanded

Allen not to mention that he had brought a letter from Jameson;

ordered a horse to be saddled and brought to the door immediately, and

ascending to his wife's chamber, to which she had retired, he told her

in a few hurried words of his perilous situation, and that his life

depended upon his instant flight and reaching the British lines in

safety.

This awful message smote the young wife and mother fearfully. She

screamed and fell at his feet in a swoon. He had not a moment to lose.

Leaving her in the care of her maid, he kissed their sleeping babe and

hurried to the breakfast-room. Telling the guests that his wife had

been taken ill suddenly, and that he was called in haste over to West

Point and would return presently, he mounted the horse at the door,

dashed down the bridle-path to the river half a mile distant, snatched

his pistols from the holsters as he dismounted, and, summoning the crew

of his barge, he entered it and ordered them to pull into the middle of

the stream and row swiftly down the river, for he bore a flag to the

_Vulture_, and must return soon to meet General Washington.

Arnold sat in the prow of his barge. When they came in sight of the

_Vulture_ he raised a white handkerchief upon a walking-stick. They

soon reached the vessel. Arnold ascended to her deck, where he met

Colonel Robinson, and briefly related to him the unhappy state of

affairs. He tried, in vain, to lure the crew of his barge into the

king's service. "If General Arnold likes the King of England, let him

serve him; _we_ love our country, and mean to live or die in support of

her cause," indignantly exclaimed James Larvey, the coxswain. "So will

we," said his companions. They were sent on shore at Teller's Point by

the same flag. Arnold sent a letter to Washington, covering one to his

wife. He assured the commander-in-chief that his wife was innocent of

all knowledge of his act, and entreated him to extend his protection

to her and her child. He also exonerated his military family from all

participation in his designs.

By the same flag Colonel Robinson wrote to Washington, asserting that,

under the circumstances which led to André's arrest, he could not

detain him without "the greatest violation of flags and contrary to the

usage of all nations"; and, assuming that the American commander would

see the matter in the same light, he desired that he would order Major

André to be "set at liberty, and allowed to return immediately."

[Illustration: The Robinson House.--(From a Sketch by the Author in

1849.)]

The _Vulture_ returned to New York the same evening, and early the

next morning Arnold conveyed to General Clinton the first intelligence

of the capture of Major André. Let us go back to Arnold's quarters at

Robinson's house, in the Highlands.

Washington arrived at Arnold's quarters an hour after the traitor's

flight. Informed of the illness of Mrs. Arnold, and that her husband

had gone over to West Point, the chief took a hurried breakfast and

proceeded thither with all his staff, excepting Colonel Hamilton. As

they touched the west shore of the river they were surprised at not

receiving the usual cannon-salute.

"Is not General Arnold here?" Washington asked Colonel Lamb.

"No, sir," Lamb replied; "he has not been here for two days, nor have I

heard from him in that time."

Meanwhile Hamilton, as Washington's private secretary, had received

and examined the papers taken from André's stocking; also the letters

of Jameson, and that of the prisoner to Washington revealing the

conspiracy. Hamilton immediately sought his chief. He met him on his

way up from the river, and told him of his discovery of Arnold's

treason and of his flight to the _Vulture_. Men were dispatched to

Verplanck's Point to intercept him, but they arrived too late. An order

was sent to Colonel Jameson to forward André to West Point immediately.

He said to Lafayette and Knox, sadly:

"Arnold is a traitor! Whom can we trust now?" The whole plot was

revealed, and the danger impending over the post was made manifest.

Yet Washington gave no outward sign of excitement. He sent couriers in

all directions with orders for the strengthening of every redoubt, and

ordered Greene to put the army at Tappaan in readiness to move toward

West Point at a moment's warning. But it was soon evident that the

danger was overpast. Informed of Mrs. Arnold's sad condition, he said

to one of his aides, "Go to her and inform her that, though my duty

required that no means should be neglected to arrest General Arnold, I

have great pleasure in acquainting _her_ that he is now safe on board a

British vessel of war."

André was brought to the Robinson house early on the 26th (September,

1780). He had been aroused from slumber at midnight to begin a dreary

journey in a falling rain, under a strong escort led by Lieutenant

King. On the way they were joined by Major Tallmadge and one or two

other officers. Tallmadge was made the special custodian of the

prisoner from that time until his execution; and on the evening of the

26th André was conveyed to West Point.

General Greene was in chief command of the American army during

Washington's absence. Its headquarters were at Tappaan (usually called

Orangetown), a short distance from the west shore of the Hudson.

Washington sent secret orders to Greene to receive the prisoner.

[Illustration: "The '76 Stone House."]

On the morning of the 28th André, with a strong escort, went down the

river in a barge, landed at the King's Ferry, and journeyed to Tappaan

on horseback. There he was lodged in a substantial stone dwelling

belonging to Mr. Maybie, known, in our day, as a tavern, by the name

of "The '76 Stone House."

On this journey of a day, Tallmadge and André, who were about equal in

age, had much free conversation. The prisoner's custodian, like every

one else, was fascinated by the young soldier, and was deeply impressed

with sympathy for him. In reply to a question by Tallmadge, André said

that, in the enterprise in which he was engaged, all he sought was

_military glory, the applause of his king and his country, and perhaps

a brigadiership_. He asked Tallmadge in what light he would be regarded

by General Washington and a military tribunal. Tallmadge tried to evade

an answer, but, being pressed, he said:

"I had a much-loved classmate in Yale College by the name of Nathan

Hale, who entered the army in 1775. Immediately after the battle of

Long Island, General Washington wanted information respecting the

strength, position, and probable movements of the enemy. Captain Hale

tendered his services, went over to Brooklyn, and was taken just as he

was passing the outposts of the enemy on his return. _Do you remember

the sequel of the story?_" "Yes," said André, "he was hanged as a

spy. But you surely do not consider his case and mine alike." "Yes,

precisely similar; and similar will be your fate," said Tallmadge.

In general orders on the 26th Greene proclaimed, "Treason of the

blackest dye was discovered yesterday." He then gave a general account

of the affair to the army and the people. It created wide-spread

indignation and alarm, but the latter feeling was tempered by the

concluding words of the order: "Arnold has made his escape to the

enemy; but Major André, the adjutant-general of the British army, who

came out as a spy to negotiate the business, is our prisoner."

The news of the capture of André, and this ominous general order,

produced intense excitement in both armies, and especially within the

British lines. The evident sympathy of Washington and some of his

officers for the prisoner when he was brought to Tappaan, created much

feeling in the American army. Some of the officers declared that if

they were not to be protected against such treacherous conduct, and

this spy be pardoned, it was time to leave the army. In a manuscript

account of the affair now before me, written by Elias Boudinot, LL. D.,

the eminent American commissary of prisoners, he observed:

"Though these were their sentiments, they were only murmured from tent

to tent. A few days convinced them that they had a commander-in-chief

who knew how to make his compassion for the unfortunate and his duty to

those who depended upon him for protection to harmonize and influence

his conduct. He treated Major André with the greatest tenderness, while

he carried the sentence of the council into execution according to the

laws of war. At New York, when the first account of André's capture and

condemnation arrived, the officers and citizens laughed at the idea

that the 'rebels' would dare to execute the adjutant-general of the

British army; but, if it should take place, vengeance in every form

should be taken sevenfold. But, when it was known that André was no

more, General Clinton shut himself up for three days, and every one at

the Coffee-House and other public places hung their heads, and scarcely

an observation relative to it escaped their lips."

[Illustration: Washington's Headquarters at Tappaan.]

Washington had returned to his headquarters at Tappaan,[52] and

ordered a meeting of a board of officers on the 29th, to make

careful inquiries and report their opinion "of the light in which he

[the prisoner] ought to be considered, and what punishment ought to

be inflicted." The board consisted of six major-generals and eight

brigadier-generals. The court of inquiry was held in the Dutch church

at Tappaan. General Greene presided. When André was brought before his

judges, he gave a detailed statement of the facts, and did not deny any

of the specifications presented by the judge-advocate, John Laurance.

After careful deliberation the board reported that the prisoner "ought

to be considered as a spy from the enemy, and that, agreeably to the

law and usages of nations, it is their opinion he ought to suffer

death." "André met the result," wrote Colonel Hamilton, "with manly

firmness. 'I foresee my fate,' he said, 'and though I pretend not

to play the hero, or be indifferent to life, yet I am reconciled to

whatever may happen, conscious that misfortune, not guilt, has brought

it upon me.'"

Washington approved the finding of the court of inquiry, and sentenced

André to be hung as a spy on the first day of October, at five o'clock

in the afternoon. He sent an account of the proceedings of the court

and a letter from André to Sir Henry Clinton.[53]

Meanwhile great exertions had been made to save André from his sad

fate. General Clinton wrote to Washington (September 26th) that André

was not a legal spy, for a flag of truce had been sent to receive him,

and passports were granted for his return. On receiving the papers

from Washington, Sir Henry wrote a second letter to the American

chief commander, expressing the opinion that the board "had not been

rightly informed of all the circumstances," and asked a postponement

of the execution until a conference might be held. The request was

granted. The execution was postponed one day. General Greene met

General Robertson and others at Dobb's Ferry, not as an officer, but as

a private gentleman, but nothing occurred to warrant a change in the

opinion of the board of inquiry and the decision of Washington.[54]

The Americans would gladly have saved the life of André could Arnold

have been given up to them. Efforts to that end were made. Unofficial

overtures were made to Clinton to exchange Arnold for André, but honor

forbade the act. All efforts in this direction failed.

On the morning of October 1st, the day on which André expected to die,

he wrote the following touching note to Washington:

"Sir: Buoyed above the terror of death by the consciousness of a life

devoted to honorable pursuits, and stained with no action that can

give remorse, I trust that the request I make to your Excellency at

this serious period, and which is to soften my last moments, will not

be rejected.

"Sympathy toward a soldier will surely induce your Excellency and a

military tribunal to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a

man of honor.

"Let me hope, sir, that if aught in my character impresses you with

esteem toward me, if aught in my misfortune marks me as the victim

of policy and not of resentment, I shall experience the operation of

those feelings in your breast by being informed that I am not to die

on a gibbet.

"I have the honor to be your Excellency's most obedient and most

humble servant,

John André."

Colonel Hamilton urged Washington to comply with André's request, but

the commander could not grant it. Unwilling to wound the feelings of

the prisoner by a refusal, he did not reply to the note.

On the preceding evening André wrote letters to his mother, sisters,

Miss Seward, and other friends, and made a pen-and-ink sketch of

himself sitting at a table with a pen in his hand. On the following

morning he made a rude sketch, with pen and ink, depicting the scene

of his passage from the _Vulture_ to the shore, when he went to meet

Arnold.[55]

At noon on the 2d day of October, 1780, Major André was executed upon

an eminence near Tappaan village, in the presence of a vast concourse

of people. He was dressed in full military costume and white top-boots.

He was taken to the gallows--a cross-piece between two moderate-sized

trees--by a procession of nearly all the field-officers, excepting

Washington and his staff, who remained at headquarters. General

Greene led the cavalcade, which passed between two files of soldiers,

extending from the prison up to the fatal spot. The prisoner's step was

firm, and he did not falter until he saw the gallows, and knew he was

to be hanged as a felon and not shot as a soldier. His hesitation was

only for a moment.

A baggage-wagon, bearing a plain pine coffin, had been driven under

the gallows. A grave had been dug near by. Into the wagon the prisoner

stepped and, taking the rope from the hangman, adjusted it to his neck,

and tied a white handkerchief over his eyes. Then Adjutant-General

Scammell read the order for the execution in a clear voice, and at

its conclusion told André that he might speak if he desired it. The

prisoner lifted the handkerchief from his eyes and, bowing courteously

to General Greene and his officers, said in firm voice, "All I request

of you, gentlemen, is that, while I acknowledge the propriety of my

sentence, you will bear me witness that I die like a brave man." In an

undertone he murmured, "It will be but a momentary pang." The wagon was

driven swiftly from under him, and in a few minutes he ceased to exist.

[Illustration: Passage from the Vulture.--(Fac-simile of a Pen-and-ink

Sketch by André.)]

"Thus died in the bloom of life," wrote Dr. Thacher, a surgeon of the

Continental army, who was present, "the accomplished Major André, the

pride of the royal army and the valued friend of Sir Henry Clinton."

The same authority wrote that André's regimentals, which had been

brought up to Tappaan by his servant, were handed to that servant, and

he was buried near one of the trees which formed the gibbet.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 52: This building is yet standing, and is in nearly the same

condition as it was in 1780, at which time it belonged to John de

Windt, a native of the Island of St. Thomas. By a peculiar arrangement

of bricks in its front wall, the date of its construction--1700--may

be seen. In a large room which Washington occupied as his office, and

where André's death-warrant was signed, the spacious fireplace was

surrounded by Dutch pictorial tiles, when I visited and made the above

sketch, in 1849.]

[Footnote 53: This letter evinced great tenderness of feeling toward

his commander. He declared that the events connected with his coming

within the American lines were contrary to his own intentions, and

avowed the object of his letter to be to remove from Sir Henry's mind

any suspicion that he (André) imagined he was bound by his Excellency's

orders to expose himself to what had happened.]

[Footnote 54: General Robertson bore a letter from Arnold to

Washington, which he reserved until all oral arguments had failed,

when he read it to the gentlemen of the conference. Had there been

a chance for coming to an understanding in regard to André before,

this impudent letter from the traitor would have destroyed it. Arnold

said: "If, after this just and candid opinion of Major André's case,

the board of general officers adhere to their former opinion, I shall

suppose it dictated by passion and resentment; and, if that gentleman

should suffer the severity of the sentence, I shall think myself bound

by every tie of duty and honor to retaliate on such unhappy persons of

your army as may fall in my power, that the respect due to flags and

the law of nations may be better understood and observed."]

[Footnote 55: The size of the original drawing from which the above

sketch was made is twelve by seven inches. It will be observed that

André has but one oarsman, instead of two, as was the case. The

drawing was found on his table by his servant after the execution, and

delivered by him at New York to Lieutenant-Colonel Crosby of André's

regiment (the Twenty-second), and who, on his return to England,

caused a _fac-simile_ of it to be produced by the mezzotint process of

engraving.]

CHAPTER VII.

Almost universal sympathy was felt and expressed for Major André.

He was undoubtedly an involuntary spy. The court of inquiry which

decided his fate came to their conclusions with regret; but duty, the

law of nations, and the exigencies of war, compelled them to give

such a verdict as they did. Washington signed his death-warrant with

reluctance and with much emotion. All the American officers were moved

by deep sympathy for him. Some of the younger officers--Lafayette,

Hamilton, Tallmadge, and others--were enamored with him, and became

attached to him. "From the few days of intimate intercourse I had with

him," wrote Tallmadge, "I became so deeply attached to Major André

that I could remember no instance when my affections were so fully

absorbed by any man." The multitude who saw the execution were deeply

moved with compassion. Dr. Thacher says the tears of thousands fell on

that occasion. The event made a deep impression upon both armies. The

king specially honored the memory of André by ordering a notable mural

monument to be erected in Westminster Abbey, near the "Poets' Corner."

A picture of this monument is seen in the engraving.[56] The memorial

was executed in statuary marble, and is about seven and a half feet

in height. It represents a sarcophagus with a device in low relief,

and elevated upon a paneled pedestal, upon which are appropriate

inscriptions.[57] On the sarcophagus is a representation of Washington

and his officers in his tent at the moment when he received the report

of the court of inquiry; at the same time a messenger has arrived with

the letter of André to Washington asking for a soldier's death. On the

right is a guard of Continental soldiers, and a tree on which André

was executed. Two men are preparing the prisoner for execution, while

at the foot of the tree sit Mercy and Innocence. On the top of the

sarcophagus is the British lion, and the figure of Britannia, who is

lamenting the fate of André. The king settled a pension upon the family

of André, and, to wipe out the imputed stain produced by his death as a

spy, the honor of knighthood was conferred upon his brother.

[Illustration: André's Monument in Westminster Abbey.]

As related in the inscription on the pedestal of André's monument,

given in a foot-note, Mr. Buchanan caused his remains to be disinterred

and sent to England. Two small cedar-trees were growing near the grave

wherein lay his remains. A portion of one of these was sent with the

remains, and, at the suggestion of the consul, the duke caused a

snuff-box to be made of it for the Rev. Mr. Demorest, of Tappaan, who

gave Mr. Buchanan much assistance in his undertaking. It was elegant in

design, was lined with gold, and was inscribed with the words:

"From his Royal Highness the Duke of York, to mark his sense of the

Rev. John Demorest's liberal attention upon the occasion of the removal

of the remains of the late Major André, at Tappaan, on the 10th of

August, 1821."

The surviving sisters of André sent a silver cup to Mr. Demorest, with

a suitable inscription; also an inkstand to the British consul.

Two monuments have been erected at different times on the spot where

André was executed, each with the sole purpose of commemorating this

very important event in our national history, and to mark the exact

locality of its occurrence. One of these monuments was set up by James

Lee,[58] a public-spirited New York merchant, nearly forty years ago.

It consisted of a small bowlder, upon the upper surface of which were

cut the words, "André was executed October 2, 1780." It was on the

right side of a lane which ran from the highway from Tappaan village to

old Tappaan, on the westerly side of a large peach-orchard, and about

a mile from Washington's headquarters. I visited the spot in 1849, and

made a drawing of this simple memorial-stone for my "Pictorial Field

Book of the Revolution." In a foot-note of that work (vol. i, p. 772)

I said, "A more elegant and durable monument should be erected on the

spot."

[Illustration: Bowlder-Monument.]

A "more elegant and durable monument" was placed on the same spot a few

years ago by another public-spirited New York merchant, Mr. Cyrus W.

Field, and bears an inscription written by the late Rev. Arthur Penrhyn

Stanley, the Dean of Westminster. When that eminent divine and earnest

friend of our country and admirer of our free institutions was about

to visit the United States in 1878, he made a list of the objects and

localities which he desired to see while here. Among these was the

place of André's execution.

While Dean Stanley was visiting Mr. Field at his country residence on

the eastern bank of the Hudson, nearly opposite Tappaan, he with his

two traveling companions and their host crossed the river, and, with

one or two citizens of Tappaan, visited places of historic interest

in the vicinity. They found that nothing marked the place of André's

execution, and that it had even been a subject of controversy. The

bowlder-monument had been removed several years before. The dean

expressed his surprise and regret that no object indicated the

locality of such an important historical event, when Mr. Field said

he would erect a memorial-stone there at his own expense upon certain

conditions. A few days afterward (October, 1878) he wrote to a citizen

of Tappaan:

"I am perfectly willing to erect a monument on 'André Hill' [so named

by the people in commemoration of the event which occurred there], and

the dean will write an inscription, if the people who own the land will

make a grant of about twenty square feet for the purpose."

So soon as it became known that Mr. Field proposed to erect a

memorial-stone at Tappaan, a correspondent of a New York morning

journal denounced the intention, upon the wholly erroneous assumption

that it was to be a "monument in honor of Major André, the British

spy." Other correspondents, equally uninformed, followed with

denunciations. A storm of apparently indignant protests, or worse,

ensued; and one writer, lacking courage to give his name, made a threat

that, if Mr. Field should set up a memorial-stone upon the place where

André was executed, "ten thousand men" were ready to pull it down and

cast it into the river! These writers, many of whom concealed their

real names, created considerable feeling in the public mind unfavorable

to the project, and elicited a multitude of appeals to the patriotism

and the prejudices of the American people, to oppose what?--a phantom!

This intemperate and unwise correspondence continued several weeks.

There were calm defenders of Mr. Field's motives in proposing to

erect a monument, by persons who were well informed and had a clear

perception of the intent and importance of such an act. The discussion

was fruitful of some good. It had the salutary effect of calling public

attention to the claims of _Nathan Hale_, the notable martyr spy of the

Revolution, to a memorial tribute--a public recognition of his virtues

and his deeds--which had been so long deferred by our people. These

claims were now earnestly advocated, not only by Mr. Field's critics,

but by patriotic citizens. Considerable sums of money were offered for

the laudable purpose of erecting a suitable monument in the city of New

York to the memory of Hale. Several persons offered one hundred dollars

each.

Before the visit of Mr. Field and the dean, Mr. Henry Whittemore,

a public-spirited citizen of Tappan, and Secretary of the Rockland

County Historical Society, had found four living men who were present

at the disinterment of André's remains in 1821. With these men he

went to "André Hill," where they identified the place of the spy's

grave.[59] The requisite plot of ground was secured by Mr. Field, who

was compelled to buy many surrounding acres at an exorbitant price.

Then, relying upon the good sense, the intelligence, and the patriotism

of the American people for a just appreciation of his motives, he

proceeded to have a memorial-stone prepared.

Soon after Dean Stanley returned home he wrote the promised

inscription, and, in a letter to Mr. Whittemore (January, 1879), he

said:

[Illustration:

A wreath of autumnal leaves from the Hudson I had placed on the

monument in the abbey-- attracts universal admiration.

I remain,

yours gratefully,

A.P. Stanley

Dean Stanley's Autograph.]

"I have sent to Mr. Cyrus W. Field the inscription suggested. Perhaps

you will kindly see that the facts are correctly stated. It is

desirable that the inscription should contain neither an attack nor a

defense of André, but only an expression of sympathy with him in his

tragical fate, and with Washington for the difficult circumstances in

which the judges were placed.

"A wreath of autumn leaves from the Hudson I had placed on the

monument in the abbey attracts universal attention. I have also the

silver medals of Washington's headquarters, and the old Dutch church

at Tappaan.

"I remain, yours gratefully,

"_A.P. Stanley_."[60]

On the 2d of October, 1879, the ninety-ninth anniversary of the

execution of André, the monument prepared by Mr. Field's order, and

placed over the spot where the spy was buried, was uncovered in the

presence of representatives of the Historical Societies of New York,

and Rockland County, of officers of the army of the United States, of

the newspaper press and other gentlemen, and a few ladies. At noon, the

hour of the day when André was executed, Mr. Field directed the workmen

to uncover the memorial. There was no pomp or ceremony on the occasion.

Not a speech was uttered, nor a token of applause given.

From "André Hill" the company went with Mr. Whittemore to his home in

Washington's headquarters and the room in which André's death-warrant

was signed. While there the neglect of the memory of Nathan Hale, shown

by the American people, was spoken of, when Mr. Field said:

"Gentlemen, if I may be granted permission, I will erect a monument in

memory of Nathan Hale on the spot where he suffered death in the city

of New York, if the place may be found."

Several years ago Mr. Field made a similar offer to the New York

Historical Society.[61] More than thirty years before, he was a

contributor to the fund raised to erect the modest monument in memory

of Hale at South Coventry, delineated on page 26; and he was next to

the largest contributor to the fund for procuring the bronze statue

of a captor of André that surmounts the monument at Tarrytown, which

commemorates that important event.

The memorial-stone erected at Tappaan is composed of a shaft of Quincy

gray granite, standing upon a pedestal of the same material. The whole

structure is about nine feet in height from the ground to the apex. It

is perfectly chaste in design. There is no ornamentation. The granite

is highly polished. It stands upon an elevation, about two miles from

the Hudson River, and thirty yards from the boundary-line between New

York and New Jersey, and overlooks a beautiful country.[62] On its west

side it bears the following inscription, written by Dean Stanley:

"HERE DIED, OCTOBER 2, 1780,

MAJOR JOHN ANDRÉ, OF THE BRITISH ARMY,

WHO, ENTERING THE AMERICAN LINES

ON A SECRET MISSION TO BENEDICT ARNOLD,

FOR THE SURRENDER OF WEST POINT,

WAS TAKEN PRISONER, TRIED AND CONDEMNED AS A SPY.

HIS DEATH,

THOUGH ACCORDING TO THE STERN RULE OF WAR,

MOVED EVEN HIS ENEMIES TO PITY;

AND BOTH ARMIES MOURNED THE FATE

OF ONE SO YOUNG AND SO BRAVE.

IN 1821 HIS REMAINS WERE REMOVED TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

A HUNDRED YEARS AFTER THE EXECUTION

THIS STONE WAS PLACED ABOVE THE SPOT WHERE HE LAY,

BY A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES, AGAINST WHICH HE FOUGHT,

NOT TO PERPETUATE THE RECORD OF STRIFE,

BUT IN TOKEN OF THOSE BETTER FEELINGS

WHICH HAVE SINCE UNITED TWO NATIONS,

ONE IN RACE, IN LANGUAGE, AND IN RELIGION,

WITH THE HOPE THAT THIS FRIENDLY UNION

WILL NEVER BE BROKEN."

On the north face:

"HE WAS MORE UNFORTUNATE THAN CRIMINAL."

"AN ACCOMPLISHED MAN AND GALLANT OFFICER."

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

The first of these two lines was quoted from a letter of Washington to

Count de Rochambeau, October 10, 1780. (See Sparks's "Life and Writings

of Washington," vol. vii, p. 241.) The second line is from the sentence

of a letter written by Washington to Colonel John Laurens on the 13th

of October. (See Sparks, vol. vii, p. 256.)

On the north face of the stone are the words:

"SUNT LACRYMÆ RERUM ET MENTEM MORTALIA TANGUNT."

The east front was left blank for another inscription.

[Illustration: Memorial at Tappaan.]

Such, in a few sentences, is the story of the erection of the

memorial-stone at Tappaan by Mr. Field. The idea was the product of

spontaneous thought, elicited by a special occasion. The sole object

to be attained is the laudable and patriotic one of perpetuating, by a

visible record, the memory of one of the most important events in our

history, at the place of its occurrence. That event has two prominent

aspects, namely: the courage, patriotism, faith in the American

people, and the unswerving fidelity in the discharge of a momentous

trust, of our beloved Washington and his officers, in the face of most

extraordinary temptations to do otherwise; and the execution as a spy

of the adjutant-general of the British army, while that army, twenty

thousand strong, was lying only a few miles distant, and supported by

powerful ships of war.

These were the events to be commemorated by this memorial-stone, and

not the name or character of any individual. It was no more a monument

"in honor of Major André, the British spy," than was the monument

of white marble, twenty-five feet in height, which was erected by

patriotic men, in 1853, to mark the spot at Tarrytown where the spy

was captured, or the naming of the rivulet near which it stands "André

Brook." Surely every intelligent and right-minded American, clearly

comprehending the truth of the whole matter, will award to Mr. Field

the meed of praise for his generous and patriotic deed.

An attempt was made on the night of November 3, 1885, to destroy the

beautiful memorial-stone at Tappaan by an explosion of dynamite. The

pedestal was shattered into pieces, but the shaft was only shaken

from its perpendicular position. This crime was the logical result

of persistent misrepresentation of the character and intent of the

memorial in some of the newspapers. Twice before, attempts had been

made to destroy it; the first time by a defacement of the inscription

by a misguided person who, on a dark night, battered the letters, many

of them almost beyond recognition. The destroyer[63] left a small

American flag hanging over the monument from a stick, supported by a

pile of stones, upon the apex; also the following lines, the product,

evidently, of one moved by a spirit of conscious untruthfulness, or of

profound ignorance of the character of the object assailed:

"Too long hath stood the traitor's shaft,

A monument to shame,

Built up to praise the traitor's craft,

To sanctify ill fame.

Are freemen bound to still forbear,

And meekly still implore,

When conquered foes their altars rear

Within our very door.

"This vulgar and insulting stone

Would honor for all time,

Not sneaking André's death alone,

But black Ben Arnold's crime.

And they, who thus can glorify

The traitor and his deeds,

Themselves high treason would employ

If 'twould fulfill their needs.

"Americans! resolve, proclaim

That on our own dear land,

Never, while the people reign,

Shall treason's statue stand!

And he who dares erect it next,

On fair Columbia's breast,

With furtive or with false pretext,

Shall dangle from its crest!"

The second attempt to destroy the memorial-stone was made on a dark

night. Nitro-glycerine or dynamite was used for the purpose. The

explosion was heard for miles around. The perpetrator of the deed was

not discovered. The stones of the pedestal were shattered, but the

shaft remained in an upright position.

Mr. Field had the damages to the memorial repaired. He designed to have

the acres around it fashioned into a handsome little park. He also

proposed to erect within the grounds a fire-proof building for the use

of the Rockland County Historical and Forestry Society as a depository

of historical and other relics of that county, the building to be

presented to the society, and the park to the citizens of Tappaan, as a

free gift. The outrage of November 3, 1885, may frustrate this generous

plan.