CHAPTER XV.

Ineffectual Attempts to procure the Release of Major AndrÈ.--His

Execution.--The Captors of AndrÈ.--Joshua H. Smith.--Captain Nathan

Hale.

Notwithstanding the equity of the sentence against AndrÈ, and the

irresistible testimony upon which it was founded, his rank and character

excited so lively an interest in every breast, and there were so many

extenuating circumstances connected with the manner in which he had been

seduced into the snare, that the voice of humanity pleaded loudly in

his behalf, and the sternest advocate for justice could not regard his

impending fate without regret, or a wish that it might be averted. No

one was more deeply impressed with these feelings than Washington; and

his anxiety was the greater, as the final determination of punishment

or acquittal must rest with him. Washington never shrunk from a public

duty, yet his heart was humane, and his mind revolted at the thought

of being the agent in an act, which wounded his sensibility, although

impelled by the laws of war, a sense of right, and an approving

conscience. The treachery of Arnold had been so atrocious, so unexpected

and artfully contrived, and the example was so dangerous, that the most

signal punishment was necessary, not more as a retribution due to the

crime, and a terror to others, who might harbor similar designs, than as

a proof to the people, that their cause was not to be left to the mercy

of traitors, nor sacrificed with impunity.

In this view of the subject, the only one in which it could be regarded

by wisdom, prudence, or patriotism, there was but one possible mode

of saving AndrÈ; and that was to exchange him for Arnold, who should

himself be held responsible for the criminal transactions, which had

originated with him, and in which he had been the chief actor. That the

enemy would give him up was hardly to be expected, nor could a formal

proposition of that kind be advanced; yet there was no reason why the

opportunity should not be offered, or at least why it should not be

intimated to them, that in such an event AndrÈ would be released. To

effect this object the following plan was adopted.

Washington sent for Captain Aaron Ogden, whom he informed that he had

selected him to carry despatches to the British post at Paulus Hook,

which were to be conveyed thence across the river to New York. After

putting the packet of papers into his hands, and giving him some general

directions as to the mode of arranging the escort, so that it should

consist of men whose fidelity could be relied upon, and who should make

a good appearance, he told Ogden to call on the Marquis de Lafayette for

additional instructions.

This was on the 30th of September, the day after the examination of

AndrÈ, and the packet intrusted to Ogden contained his letter to Sir

Henry Clinton, and that mentioned above from Washington to the same

commander. Lafayette was at the head of the Light Infantry, who

were stationed in advance of the army towards the enemy's lines. He

instructed Ogden so to contrive his march, that he should arrive at

Paulus Hook so late in the day, that he would be asked to stay all

night. He was then to seek a favorable moment to communicate to the

commandant of the post, or some of the principal officers, as if

incidentally, the idea about exchanging AndrÈ for Arnold.

Thus prepared, Ogden set off with a suitable escort, and at a convenient

hour arrived at the outposts near Paulus Hook. He was there stopped, and

the officer proposed to detain him, till the despatches were sent in

and an answer returned. Captain Ogden assured him, that he had express

orders to deliver the packet into the hands of the principal officer

of the post, and upon this representation he was allowed to pass. The

commandant was courteous, received the packet, and immediately sent it

by an express across the river to New York.

Captain Ogden was politely asked to take supper with the officers; and

when the evening was far advanced and the boat did not come back, he was

invited to remain through the night. The conversation turned upon AndrÈ,

and the commandant inquired whether he thought Washington would consent

to his execution. Ogden replied, that he undoubtedly would, that the

army expected it, and the nature of the offence rendered it necessary;

and, whatever might be his private feelings, and however painful the

task, he would not hesitate to do his duty promptly, when required by

justice and the laws of war, and when the vital interests of his country

were at stake. The commandant asked, if there was no way of preventing

such a catastrophe. "Yes," replied Ogden, "it is in the power of Sir

Henry Clinton to do it. If he will deliver up Arnold into the hands

of the Americans, and take AndrÈ in exchange, the prisoner may have a

speedy rescue." Ogden was then asked whether he had authority for such

a declaration. "I have no such assurance from General Washington," said

he, "but I am prepared to say, that if such a proposal were to be made,

I believe it would be accepted, and Major AndrÈ set at liberty." Upon

this hint the officer left the company, crossed the river, had an

interview with Sir Henry Clinton, and returned before morning. He told

Captain Ogden, that such a thing could not be done; that to give up a

man, who had deserted from the enemy, and openly espoused the King's

cause, was such a violation of honor and every military principle, that

Sir Henry Clinton would not listen to the idea for a moment.

The despatch-boat came back, and Ogden prepared at the dawn of day

for his departure. On mustering his men, it was discovered, that the

sergeant of the escort was missing, and it was supposed he had deserted

to the enemy during the night. Having no time for search, Ogden hastened

to General Washington's camp, and delivered the packet he had brought. *

* This desertion of the sergeant was a stratagem of Washington unknown

to Captain Ogden at the time. A paper had been intercepted, in which was

found the name of one of the American major-generals, connected in such

a manner with other particulars, as to excite a suspicion, that he was

concerned in Arnold's treason. It was extremely important, that this

point should be ascertained; and the sergeant was prevailed upon to

desert, and act as a spy in New York to gain intelligence of a certain

kind, and from certain sources. The stratagem was successful, and the

intelligence sent out by the sergeant, in a very short time, proved

incontestably that the suspicion was entirely groundless. The

intercepted paper was probably designed by the enemy to fall into

General Washington's hands, and to create jealousy and discord among the

American officers.

The letters from AndrÈ and General Washington, and the proceedings of

the board of examination, were perused with much concern by Sir Henry

Clinton. He immediately assembled a council of general officers,

and laid these papers before them. After maturely considering their

contents, it was resolved that a deputation of three persons should

proceed to the nearest American outpost, furnished with evidence to

prove Major AndrÈ's innocence, and to impart information, which Sir

Henry Clinton thought would place the question in a different light from

that in which it had been viewed by the American board.

The persons delegated on this mission were General Robertson, Andrew

Elliot, and William Smith. They were accompanied by Beverly Robinson

as a witness in the case, and were fortified in their estimation, but

weakened in reality, by a long explanatory and threatening letter from

Arnold to General Washington. The commissioners went up the river in the

Greyhound Schooner, with a flag of truce, on the 1st of October. Notice

of the intended visit and its objects had been already communicated by

Sir Henry Clinton to Washington; and when the vessel anchored at Dobbs's

Ferry, General Greene was there, having been deputed by Washington

to hold the interview in his behalf. The person sent on shore by the

British commissioners brought word back, that General Robertson

only would be permitted to land, and that General Greene was then in

readiness to receive him.

The conference was opened by Robertson, who paid some compliments to the

American general, and expressed the satisfaction he had in treating with

him on an occasion so interesting to the two armies and to humanity.

Greene replied, that it was necessary for them to know at the outset

on what ground they stood; that he was not there in the character of

an officer; that he was allowed by General Washington to meet him as a

private gentleman, but that the case of an acknowledged spy admitted of

no discussion. Robertson said his design was to state facts, which he

hoped would have their due weight, in whatever character he might be

supposed to speak.

He then entered largely into the subject, endeavoring to show, first,

that AndrÈ landed under the sanction of a flag; secondly, that he acted

wholly by the directions of Arnold; from both of which positions it was

inferred, that he could not in any just sense of the word be regarded as

a spy. The facts having all been examined by the board of officers,

and been well understood, this new statement of them made no change

in Greene's opinion or impressions; and when Arnold's testimony was

introduced, he said the Americans would believe AndrÈ in preference

to Arnold. General Robertson said, that no military tribunal in Europe

would decide the case of AndrÈ to be that of a spy, and he proposed to

refer the question to Count de Rochambeau and General Knyphausen. Other

considerations were urged by him, not so much in the way of argument,

as on the score of reciprocal benefits and humanity. He added, that he

should confide in General Greene's candor to represent in the fairest

light to General Washington the arguments he had used; that he should

stay on board all night, and hoped in the morning to take back with him

Major AndrÈ, or an assurance of his safety.

In Robertson's despatch to Sir Henry Clinton, containing the particulars

of the conference, he said it was intimated to him by Greene, that, if

AndrÈ were set free, it would be expected that Arnold should be given

up. Robertson professed to have replied to this intimation only by a

look of indignant rebuke.

The letter from Arnold to General Washington, written to aid the

negotiation of the commissioners, was extraordinary, considering the

purpose it was intended to answer. After expressing his "grateful

acknowledgments and thanks" for the kindness shown to Mrs. Arnold, and

attempting to screen AndrÈ from blame by taking the responsibility of

his deeds upon himself, and declaring that he "had an undoubted right

to transact all those matters," he concludes in a style of hardened

impudence and malignity, that, even when coming from such a source, must

be regarded with astonishment.

"If, after this just and candid representation of Major Andre's case,"

said he, "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 their 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 within my power, that the respect

due to flags, and to the law of nations, may be better understood and

observed.

"If this warning should be disregarded, and he suffer, I call Heaven and

earth to witness, that your Excellency will be justly answerable for the

torrent of blood, that may be spilt in consequence."

It is hardly possible that this letter could have been seen by Sir Henry

Clinton, although written at his request, with the view of operating on

the judgment and clemency of Washington. Could any language, uttered by

any individual, have a more opposite tendency? Disgust and contempt were

the only emotions it could excite; and it was at least an evidence, that

neither the understanding nor the heart of the writer had been improved

by his political change. Hitherto he had discovered acuteness and

mental resource, but in this act his folly was commensurate with his

wickedness. At the same time he performed the farce of resigning his

commission, as an officer in the American service, and wrote to General

Washington, "I beg leave to assure your Excellency, that my attachment

to the true interests of my country is invariable, and that I am

actuated by the same principle, which has ever been the governing rule

of my conduct in this unhappy contest." Setting aside the hypocrisy

of this declaration, it is perhaps fair to interpret it in its literal

sense, and to believe, that he had always confounded patriotism with

selfishness, and the interests of his country with the aims of a

mercenary ambition.

The British commissioners waited till morning, as General Robertson had

proposed, and at an early hour they received a note from General Greene,

stating that he had communicated to Washington the substance of the

conference, but that it had produced no change in his opinion and

determination. This intelligence was astounding to Robertson; for he had

written to Sir Henry Clinton the evening before, that he was persuaded

AndrÈ would not be harmed. How he got this impression is not easily

discovered, since he represented General Greene as obstinately bent

on considering AndrÈ as a spy, and resisting all his arguments to the

contrary.

Nothing more could be done by the commissioners. That no measure

might be left untried, however, General Robertson wrote a letter to

Washington, containing a summary of the topics he had discussed at the

conference, and assigned as a reason for sending it, that he feared

General Greene's memory might have failed him in some particulars, and

he wished the merits of so important a case to be presented with all

the clearness and force it deserved. This letter could have produced

no effect, even if it had not arrived too late; for it touched upon

no points, which had not already been examined and decided. The

commissioners returned to New York.

While in confinement at Tappan, both before and after his sentence,

AndrÈ had shown the greatest composure, and the same serenity of temper

and winning gentleness of manners, that had been conspicuous in his

conversation and deportment from the time he was taken. His regimentals

had been brought from New York by his servant, after his arrival at

Tappan, and he appeared in the full dress of a British officer. Colonel

Hamilton, in his beautiful and pathetic letter to Colonel Laurens,

respecting the capture and death of AndrÈ, has described an incident in

his conduct on this occasion, which would add lustre to his name, even

if it were not adorned by genius, magnanimity, and honor.

"In one of the visits I made to him," said Hamilton, "(and I saw him

several times during his confinement,) he begged me to be the bearer of

a request to the General, for permission to send an open letter to Sir

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

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

to whatever may happen, conscious that misfortune, not guilt,

has brought it upon me. There is only one thing that disturbs my

tranquillity. Sir Henry Clinton has been too good to me; he has been

lavish of his kindness; I am bound to him by too many obligations, and

love him too well, to bear the thought that he should reproach himself,

or others should reproach him, on the supposition of my having conceived

myself obliged, by his instructions, to run the risk I did. I would not,

for the world, leave a sting in his mind that should embitter his future

days.' He could scarce finish the sentence, bursting into tears, in

spite of his efforts to suppress them, and with difficulty collected

himself enough afterwards to add, 'I wish to be permitted to assure

him, I did not act under this impression, but submitted to a necessity

imposed upon me, as contrary to my own inclination, as to his orders.'

His request was readily complied with, and he wrote the letter annexed,

with which I dare say you will be as much pleased as I am, both for the

sentiment and diction."

This letter was the same that has been inserted above, and its contents

accord in every respect with the delicacy of feeling and warmth of

gratitude here expressed towards his benefactor.

When the sentence of the board was announced to AndrÈ, he manifested

no surprise or concern, having evidently been prepared by his own

reflections for this result. He remarked only, that, since he was to

die, "there was still a choice in the mode, which would make a material

difference in his feelings." It was his wish to die the death of a

soldier, and he requested that he might be shot. The application was

renewed in a letter addressed to General Washington.

"Tappan, 1 October, 1780.

"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

me 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 towards 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 towards me, if aught in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of

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

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 ANDR…."

The indulgence here solicited, in terms as manly as they are persuasive

and touching, could not be granted consistently with the customs of war.

Such, at least, was the opinion of Washington and of the officers he

consulted. No answer was returned either to the first application or to

the letter, it being deemed more humane to evade a reply, than to cause

the painful sensations, which a positive refusal would inflict. *

* There is still in existence a curious memorial both of the person of

Major AndrÈ, and of his tranquillity and self-possession, during this

period of trial and solemn anticipation. In the midst of the sombre

thoughts, which must have thronged upon his mind, he resorted to the

art, which had given him so much delight, when all the opening prospects

of life were gilded with hope and gladness. The following is an extract

from a letter, written by Mr. Ebenezer Baldwin to the President of Yale

College, and dated at New Haven, August 8th, 1832.

"It affords me pleasure, as the agent of Mr. Jabez L. Tomlinson of

Stratford, and of Mr. Nathan Beers of this city, to request your

acceptance of the accompanying miniature of Major John AndrÈ. It is his

likeness seated at a table in his guard-room, and drawn by himself with

a pen, on the morning of the day fixed for his execution. Mr. Tomlinson

informs me, that a respite was granted until the next day, and that this

miniature was in the mean time presented to him (then acting as officer

of the guard) by Major AndrÈ himself Mr. Tomlinson was present when the

sketch was made, and says it was drawn without the aid of a glass. The

sketch subsequently passed into the hands of Mr. Beers, a fellow-officer

of Mr. Tomlinson on the station, and from thence was transferred to me.

It has been in my possession several years."

The original drawing is now in the Trumbull Gallery at Yale College.

It bears a strong resemblance to an engraved head of AndrÈ printed

in England, and the likeness may be presumed to approach as near to

accuracy, as is usual in miniatures of the same size; more especially

as AndrÈ was accustomed to draw similar sketches of himself for his

friends.

The time for the execution was at first fixed at five o'clock in the

afternoon of the day, on which Greene had the interview with Robertson,

and it was thus published in the general orders.

But the length of that negotiation caused the execution to be deferred

till the next day, October 2d, at twelve o'clock.

The particulars of this event will be here related in the language of

Dr. Thacher, who was an eye-witness and evidently a close observer, and

who has described what he saw with a precision and force, which bear the

stamp of accuracy and present a vivid picture of the scene.

"The principal guard-officer, who was constantly in the room with the

prisoner, relates, that when the hour of his execution was announced

to him in the morning, he received it without emotion, and, while all

present were affected with silent gloom, he retained a firm countenance,

with calmness and composure of mind. Observing his servant enter the

room in tears, he exclaimed, 'Leave me till you can show yourself

more manly.' His breakfast being sent to him from the table of General

Washington, which had been done every day of his confinement, he partook

of it as usual, and having shaved and dressed himself, he placed his hat

on the table, and cheerfully said to the guard-officers, 'I am ready at

any moment, Gentlemen, to wait on you.' The fatal hour having arrived,

a large detachment of troops was paraded, and an immense concourse of

people assembled; almost all our general and field officers, excepting

his Excellency and his staff, were present on horseback; melancholy and

gloom pervaded all ranks; the scene was affecting and awful.

"I was so near during the solemn march to the fatal spot, as to observe

every movement and participate in every emotion, which the melancholy

scene was calculated to produce. Major AndrÈ walked from the stone

house, in which he had been confined, between two of our subaltern

officers, arm in arm; the eyes of the immense multitude were fixed on

him, who, rising superior to the fear of death, appeared as if conscious

of the dignified deportment which he displayed. He betrayed no want

of fortitude, but retained a complacent smile on his countenance, and

politely bowed to several gentlemen whom he knew, which was respectfully

returned. It was his earnest desire to be shot, as being the mode of

death most conformable to the feelings of a military man, and he had

indulged the hope that his request would be granted. At the

moment, therefore, when suddenly he came in view of the gallows, he

involuntarily started backward, and made a pause. 'Why this emotion,

Sir?' said an officer by his side. Instantly recovering his composure,

he said, 'I am reconciled to my death, but I detest the mode.'

"While waiting and standing near the gallows, I observed some degree

of trepidation; placing his foot on a stone, and rolling it over, and

choking in his throat, as if attempting to swallow. So soon, however, as

he perceived that things were in readiness, he stepped quickly into the

wagon, and at this moment he appeared to shrink, but instantly elevating

his head with firmness, he said, 'It will be but a momentary pang;' and

taking from his pocket two white handkerchiefs, the provost marshal with

one loosely pinioned his arms, and with the other, the victim, after

taking off his hat and stock, bandaged his own eyes with perfect

firmness, which melted the hearts, and moistened the cheeks, not only of

his servant, but of the throng of spectators. The rope being appended to

the gallows, he slipped the noose over his head, and adjusted it to his

neck, without the assistance of the executioner. Colonel Scammell now

informed him, that he had an opportunity to speak, if he desired it. He

raised the handkerchief from his eyes, and said, 'I pray you to bear

me witness, that I meet my fate like a brave man.' The wagon being now

removed from under him, he was suspended and instantly expired." *

* Thacher's Military Journal, p. 222.--In a more recent publication,

entitled Observations relating to the Execution of Major AndrÈ, first

printed in the New England Magazine, Dr. Thacher has added several

facts illustrative of that event. Appended to the same is an interesting

letter by Major Benjamin Russell, who was one of the inner guard, that

attended AndrÈ to the place of execution, and walked so near him as to

hear distinctly what he said. The outer guard consisted of about five

hundred men; the inner guard was only a captain's command.

Throughout the whole of this scene, from the time he left the house in

which he was guarded, till the last fatal moment, his demeanor was such

as to excite the respect, sympathy, and sorrow of every beholder. His

step was steady, his carriage easy and graceful, his countenance placid,

but thoughtful and firm, indicating a solemn sense of his impending

fate, and a resolution to meet it in a manner consistent with his

character and the previous tenor of his conduct. He was dressed in the

uniform of a British officer. When life had departed, the body was taken

down and interred within a few yards of the place of execution. The coat

and other regimentals were given to his servant, who faithfully attended

him to the last, and saw the grave close over his mortal remains.

Such was the death of a man, whose rare accomplishments had procured

for him the friendship and confidence of all to whom he was known, and

opened the happiest presages of a future career of renown and glory.

In ten short days his blooming hopes had been blighted, and his glowing

visions dispersed. But it was his singular fortune to die, not more

beloved by his friends, than lamented by his enemies, whose cause he had

sought to ruin, and by whose hands his life was justly taken. Time has

consecrated the feeling. There are few Americans, and few will there

ever be, who can look back upon the fate of AndrÈ without deep regret.

His name is embalmed in every generous heart; and they, who shall

condemn his great error and applaud the sentence of his judges, will

cherish a melancholy remembrance of the unfortunate victim, and grieve

that a life of so much promise, adorned with so many elevated and

estimable qualities, was destined to an untimely and ignominious end.

Soon after this event, when the facts had not yet become fully known or

duly weighed, a few British writers allowed themselves to remark with

much freedom and asperity respecting the part taken by Washington. They

said the sentence was harsh, if not unjustifiable; and that, admitting

it was right, humanity ought to have interposed and saved AndrÈ.

The foregoing details render it unnecessary to discuss these points,

either for the purpose of establishing truths, or of vindicating the

character of Washington. Let every reader reflect upon the prominent

transactions, and judge for himself. Nothing more is requisite. Was

AndrÈ a spy? This character he voluntarily acknowledged, both in his

first letter to General Washington, and in his examination before the

board of officers; that is, he confessed himself to have acted a part,

which no one could possibly act, who was not a spy. He landed secretly

in the night, he was concealed within the American lines, he changed his

dress and appeared in disguise, he assumed a false name, he was taken

while going to the enemy with papers containing intelligence.

These facts were so well attested, that the British general, in his

extreme solicitude to rescue AndrÈ, did not attempt to evade or disprove

them. It was the drift of his argument to show, that, notwithstanding

their existence, AndrÈ could not properly be considered a spy, first,

because he went ashore under a flag of truce, and secondly, because

while on shore he was subject to the directions of an American general.

The first point was not accurate in any sense, either literally or

theoretically. It is true, Arnold had written a paper as a passport for

Smith, in which he mentioned a flag; but there was no flag, and it was

in the night, when flags are not sent except on extraordinary occasions.

Moreover the business was not such as could ever be sanctioned by

a flag, the whole design of which is to soften the rigors of war by

creating a mutual confidence between hostile armies, and thereby opening

a channel for reciprocal acts of humanity. The moment this signal of

peace is employed to abuse the confidence of an opposing party, by

seeking to inflict an injury under the mask of friendship, the act

becomes infamous. Hence the prostitution of a flag is regarded by

all civilized people as one of the basest crimes. It is surprising,

therefore, that the idea of a flag should have been put forward in any

shape as a favorable circumstance. No such hint came from AndrÈ. On

the contrary, when questioned upon the subject, he declared, in very

positive terms, that he was not under the sanction of a flag.

As to the second branch of the argument, there can be no doubt, that

after AndrÈ landed he was within the sphere of Arnold's command, and

acted in all respects either with his knowledge or by his direction. But

this did not alter the nature of his conduct. He was still in disguise,

with a false name, and carrying papers of a dangerous import to the

enemy. To say that he was an agent in maturing treason is not certainly

to make him the less a spy. So far from it, that, if possible, the

offence is aggravated by this coincidence of character and objects.

It was argued, that Arnold had a right, while in command, to give such

directions as he did to AndrÈ, and consequently that no law was violated

in obeying them. Upon the same principle it may be said, that Arnold had

a right to be a traitor, if he could bring his ends to pass by secret

means and without detection. The sophistry is too shallow to need a

refutation.

Although Sir Henry Clinton used these arguments in his endeavors

to procure a release of AndrÈ, yet he did not recur to them in the

narrative which he sent to the British government, nor complain

that they had been disregarded. He stated all the facts minutely, in

connexion with a copy of the correspondence, but without uttering

any censure against Washington or the board of officers, and without

intimating an opinion, that the sentence was unjust, or that AndrÈ could

be regarded in any other light than as a spy. Had his sentiments been

different, he would unquestionably have expressed them strongly on this

occasion, and thrown upon his enemies the full measure of blame, which

he conceived them to deserve.

In publishing this event likewise to the army in general orders, Sir

Henry Clinton maintained the same reserve, concerning the mode of

AndrÈ's death. "The unfortunate fate of this officer," said he, "calls

upon the Commander-in-chief to declare, that he ever considered Major

AndrÈ a gentleman of the highest integrity and honor, and incapable of

any base action or unworthy conduct." Nothing was added as to the manner

of his death, nor was it even insinuated, that it had been caused by the

vengeance, injustice, or any improper act of the enemy, in whose hands

he suffered.

These are proofs, and more might be adduced, that the opinions of Sir

Henry Clinton on this subject, namely, the light in which AndrÈ was to

be held, according to the invariable laws of war and of nations, were

essentially the same as those of General Washington. It is said by M.

de Marbois, that Washington secretly consulted Congress respecting

AndrÈ before he was examined. No formal deliberation was held upon the

subject, but Congress returned as an answer, that they perceived no

reason for arresting the course of justice.

The question, which is merely one of feeling and not of principle,

whether AndrÈ might not have been indulged in his last request to die a

military death, should be answered in reference to the state of things

at that crisis, and to the motives operating on Washington's mind.

Regarding the matter only in the abstract, there seems no very obvious

reason why such an indulgence should have been refused. Yet, as no trait

in Washington's character was more remarkable through life than his

humanity, this noble quality cannot be supposed to have forsaken him on

an occasion, which most deeply interested his feelings, and enlisted his

sympathies on the side of the sufferer. It must be recollected, that,

when AndrÈ was executed, Washington was entirely ignorant as to the

extent of the conspiracy and the persons engaged in it. His fears and

his suspicions were alive; and, both as an evidence that he deemed

AndrÈ's punishment just, and as a terror to others who might be

concerned in the plot, he believed it a duty to his office and his

country to let the law take its usual course. As the event turned out,

no ill consequences could have resulted from a compliance with the

request of AndrÈ. Could this have been foreseen by Washington, the

tenderness of his disposition, so often manifested, warrants us to

believe, that no effort on his part would have been spared to soothe the

dying moments of a brave and unfortunate man. *

* A monument was erected by order of the King, in Westminster Abbey, to

the memory of Major AndrÈ. His remains were taken up, in the year 1821,

by Mr. Buchanan, British Consul in New York, and removed to England.

They were deposited in Westminster Abbey near the monument. AndrÈ died

at the age of twenty-nine. As no metallic buttons were found in the

grave, when the disinterment took place, it was considered a proof, that

he was not buried in his regimentals. It was inferred, that he had been

stripped before burial; in what manner was uncertain. Dr. Thacher has

shown, in his Observations, that AndrÈ's regimentals were given to his

servant.

The captors of AndrÈ were recommended by Washington to Congress, as

worthy not only of thanks but of a more substantial recompense from

the public. After expressing by a formal vote "a high sense of their

virtuous and patriotic conduct," Congress granted to each of them an

annual pension of two hundred dollars for life, and ordered a silver

medal to be struck and presented to each, bearing on one side the

inscription Fidelity, and on the other, Vincit Amor Patrice. These

medals were given to the individuals by General Washington, at

head-quarters, with some ceremony, and they were invited to dine with

him on that occasion. In writing to the President of Congress, he

said, "The recompense is ample; it is an evidence of the generosity of

Congress, a flattering tribute to the virtue of those citizens, and must

prove a powerful incitement to others to imitate their example." The

country participated in this opinion, and the conduct of the captors was

universally applauded.

In connexion with this statement, however, it is proper to add, that

doubts have been entertained as to the original motives and designs of

Paulding, Van Wart, and Williams. The representation made by AndrÈ to

Major Tallmadge and Mr. Bronson was, that he first discovered these

men playing at cards in the bushes near the road; that, after they had

stopped him, they ripped up the housings of his saddle and the cape of

his coat in search of money; but, finding none, one of the party said,

"He may have it in his boots;" then they then pulled off his boots, and

found the papers, which induced them to think he was a spy. Major AndrÈ

was of the opinion, that, if he could have given them a small sum of

money at first, they would have allowed him to pass without further

molestation; but he had no other money about his person, than the paper

bills given to him by Smith, and merely sufficient to pay his expenses

to the city.

So strong an impression did this account make upon the mind of Major

Tallmadge, and so fully was he convinced of its accuracy, and of the

dubious virtue of the captors, that, thirty-seven years afterwards, when

Paulding petitioned Congress for an increase of pension, he resisted

the petition, (being then a member of Congress,) on the ground that the

conduct of the petitioner did not deserve such a testimony of public

approbation and gratitude. *

* The subject was drawn into a discussion, and several replies were

made to Major Tallmadge. See a small volume entitled Vindication of the

Captors of Major AndrÈ, published in New York, 1817.

May there not be a middle line between these two extremes? Was it not

possible for the men to search for money, and still be true to their

country, which is the only point at issue? When they stopped the

traveller, the idea of a spy seems not to have occurred to them. They

took him for a merchant, or a person engaged in mercantile business,

not legally and openly, but in the manner practised by too many of the

borderers of the neutral ground. They would naturally expect him to have

money, and would search for it, especially after the confused manner in

which he had spoken of himself, and since, if he was an enemy and

had money, it would be theirs by the same prize-law, that afterwards

assigned to them the horse, saddle, bridle, and watch. Their virtue

cannot be impeached, therefore, merely on the score of their searching

for money, although this incident, it must be confessed, contributes no

special lustre to their motives or acts.

According to their testimony before the court at Smith's trial, they did

not suspect AndrÈ of being a spy, till his boots had been pulled off and

the papers discovered; nor is there any direct proof, that he offered

them money to release him till after that discovery. Williams then asked

him what he would give them to let him go, evidently having no other

aim, than to obtain further knowledge of his character. AndrÈ offered to

give any sum of money, or quantity of dry goods, that they would name.

Here was the trial of their virtue. Ten thousand guineas, they said,

should not tempt them to let him escape.

Major AndrÈ believed, that, when he made the offer, they would have

accepted it, if he could have given any security for the fulfilment of

his promise. As he could only pledge his word, and as either he or some

other person in his name must go into the city and bring out the money

and goods, they distrusted his ability to execute his engagement, and

feared that some cross accident would in the mean time lead them into

difficulty, and prevent their getting any thing. As the surest course,

or the one from which they were the most likely to obtain a reward, they

resolved to take him within the American lines, and deliver him up to an

officer.

Such was Andre's belief, and it was perhaps favored by appearances. But

all the prominent circumstances of the case are decidedly against it.

Whatever the captors thought of their prisoner, they could not have

imagined his real importance, nor foreseen the consequences that

followed. They looked upon him as a common spy, and supposed that they

would be suitably but not extravagantly rewarded for giving him up. If

they were influenced only by motives of gain, it is hardly possible

that they should not have been tempted by the golden offers of AndrÈ,

notwithstanding the uncertainty attending them, which could not be very

great, since he proposed to stay where he was, till one of them should

go into the city and bring out the money and other articles. Had they

known Andre's character, the affair would assume a different aspect;

but, as they did not, we must look for a higher determining principle,

than a mere pecuniary calculation.

The exact degree in which we are to expect patriotism and genuine public

virtue in men, who stand in the same class of society and follow the

same pursuits as the captors of AndrÈ, may be a question for casuistry

to settle. But it will require more than the casuist's art to prove,

that these men did not believe they were doing a valuable service to

their country, distinct from any ulterior consideration, in committing

to custody a person, whom they knew to be a spy, and who had offered

them a large bribe for his release. We need not scrutinize motives too

closely. The act was noble in itself, immensely important to the nation

in its effects, and worthy of all praise as an example. This meed of

justice let it receive from history, and from every citizen, who would

by his approbation encourage instances of generous self-sacrifice for

the public good.

The reader may be curious to know what became of Joshua H. Smith. We

left him at Tappan under guard. He was tried by a court-martial, which

was assembled the day after the examination of AndrÈ, and continued by

adjournments for about four weeks. Many witnesses were brought before

the court, among whom were Lafayette, Knox, Hamilton, Harrison, Colonel

Livingston, Colonel Hay, Captain Boyd, Paulding and Williams, and

the two boatmen, who went on board the Vulture. The testimony was

voluminous, as written out by the judge-advocate, and formed a mass of

facts developing many of the secret incidents of the conspiracy.

The charge presented against Smith ran in these words; "For aiding

and assisting Benedict Arnold, late major-general in our service, in a

combination with the enemy to take, kill, and seize such of the loyal

citizens or soldiers of these United States, as were in garrison at West

Point and its dependencies." Smith drew up in writing a long defence,

which he read to the court, and in which he first objected to its

jurisdiction, saying that, being a citizen and not a soldier, he could

not properly be subject to a military tribunal; he then summed up

the evidence with considerable ability, and argued his cause. He was

acquitted by the court.

That he had aided and assisted Arnold there was no doubt; this he

confessed before the trial; but it was not proved by the evidence, that

he had any knowledge of Arnold's traitorous designs. Considering the

part he performed, this was extraordinary; but the court were fully

justified in their decision. Some points in Smith's conduct, however,

were never cleared up, especially his refusing to go back with AndrÈ to

the Vulture. The reason he assigned was improbable, and his attempts at

an explanation only threw a deeper shade over his candor. Although no

one would be willing to condemn Smith, upon the testimony adduced to the

court, yet whoever reads it will be satisfied, that he could not have

fallen into such extreme stupidity, as not to suspect something wrong

in the business he was engaged in carrying on. Nor is it easy to imagine

how a man of his intelligence and character could have been made a

passive tool, even in the hands of so artful a hyprocrite as Arnold, for

effecting purposes obviously of great moment, concerning which he was

not allowed to have any knowledge.

These impressions are strengthened by Smith's book, which he published

many years afterwards in England, evidently with a copy before him of

all the written testimony produced to the court at his trial; and

in which he utters innumerable assertions widely different from the

testimony itself and from his original defence, mingled with severe and

bitter reflections upon several of the witnesses. *

* The book is entitled An Authentic Narrative of the Causes which led to

the Death of Major AndrÈ. London. 1808.--Whether from a defect of memory

in the author, or from whatever reason, needs not be inquired; but as

a work of history this volume is not worthy of the least credit, except

where the statements are confirmed by other authority.

But, after all, it would be unjust to charge Smith with positive guilt

without farther proof; as it is impossible to believe him entirely

innocent, without a more satisfactory explanation of his conduct than

has yet appeared.

The papers of the court-martial were read by Washington, and then

transmitted to Governor Clinton, that Smith might be tried by a civil

process under the laws of the State of New York, should such a course be

deemed advisable. He was sent to West Point and released from military

arrest, but he was immediately taken into custody by the civil authority

of the state, and confined in the jail at Goshen. After remaining there

several months without any trial, he found means to escape, and passed

through the country, sometimes disguised in a woman's dress, to Paulus

Hook and New York. At the close of the war he went to England.

Mrs. Arnold resolved to share the lot of her husband. She visited her

friends at Philadelphia, and joined him in New York about the middle of

November. In her travels through the country, she was everywhere treated

with a respect and forbearance hardly to have been expected in the

exasperated state of public feeling, which then prevailed; a proof,

that, although unfortunate in her alliance with a traitor, she was not

considered guilty of participating in his crimes. It is related by M.

de Marbois, as a remarkable instance of moderation in the people, that,

when on her journey she had stopped at a village to pass the night,

where the inhabitants were preparing to burn her husband in effigy,

they suspended the execution of their design till the next night, out

of delicacy to her sex and situation. It is also said, that, when she

entered her carriage in open day to go and join Arnold in the midst

of the enemies of his country, no symptoms were exhibited of the

detestation in which his name was held even by the lowest populace. This

was the more worthy of notice, as his effigy had recently been paraded

through the streets of Philadelphia with every mark of infamy, and every

demonstration of resentment and contempt.

The case of Captain Nathan Hale has been regarded as parallel to that of

Major AndrÈ. This young officer was a graduate of Yale College, and had

but recently closed his academic course when the war of the revolution

commenced. Possessing genius, taste, and ardor, he became distinguished

as a scholar; and, endowed in an eminent degree with those graces and

gifts of nature which add a charm to youthful excellence, he gained

universal esteem and confidence.

To high moral worth and irreproachable habits were joined gentleness of

manners, an ingenuous disposition, and vigor of understanding. No young

man of his years put forth a fairer promise of future usefulness and

celebrity; the fortunes of none were fostered more sincerely by the

generous good wishes of his associates, or the hopes and encouraging

presages of his superiors.

Being a patriot upon principle, and an enthusiast in a cause, which

appealed equally to his sense of justice and love of liberty, he was

among the first to take up arms in his country's defence. The news

of the battle of Lexington roused his martial spirit, and called him

immediately to the field. He obtained a commission in the army, and

marched with his company to Cambridge. His promptness, activity, and

assiduous attention to discipline, were early observed. He prevailed

upon his men to adopt a simple uniform, which improved their appearance,

attracted notice, and procured applause. The example was followed by

others, and its influence was beneficial. Nor were his hours wholly

absorbed by his military duties. A rigid economy of time enabled him to

gratify his zeal for study and mental culture.

At length the theatre of action was changed, and the army was removed

to the southward. The battle of Long Island was fought, and the American

forces were drawn together in the city of New York. At this moment it

was extremely important for Washington to know the situation of

the British army on the heights of Brooklyn, its numbers, and the

indications as to its future movements. Having confidence in the

discretion and judgment of the gallant Colonel Knowlton, who commanded

a Connecticut regiment of infantry, he explained his wishes to that

officer, and requested him to ascertain if any suitable person could be

found in his regiment, who would undertake so hazardous and responsible

a service. It was essential, that he should be a man of capacity,

address, and military knowledge.

Colonel Knowlton assembled several of his officers, stated to them

the views and desires of the General, and left the subject to their

reflections, without proposing the enterprise to any individual. The

officers then separated. Captain Hale considered deliberately what

had been said, and finding himself by a sense of duty inclined to the

undertaking, he called at the quarters of his intimate friend, Captain

Hull (afterwards General Hull), and asked his opinion. Hull endeavored

to dissuade him from the service, as not befitting his rank in the army,

and as being of a kind for which his openness of character disqualified

him; adding that no glory could accrue from success, and a detection

would inevitably be followed by an ignominious death.

Captain Hale replied, that all these considerations had been duly

weighed, that "every kind of service necessary to the public good was

honorable by being necessary," that he did not accept a commission for

the sake of fame alone or personal advancement, that he had been for

some time in the army without being able to render any signal aid to the

cause of his country, and that he felt impelled by high motives of duty

not to shrink from the opportunity now presented.

The arguments of his friend were unavailing, and Captain Hale passed

over to Long Island in disguise. He had gained the desired information,

and was just on the point of stepping into a boat to return to the

city of New York, when he was arrested and taken before the British

commander. Like AndrÈ, he had assumed a character, which he could not

sustain; he was "too little accustomed to duplicity to succeed."

The proof against him was so conclusive, that he made no effort at

self-defence, but frankly confessed his objects; and, again like AndrÈ,

without further remarks "left the facts to operate with his judges." He

was sentenced to be executed as a spy, and was accordingly hanged the

next morning.

The sentence was conformable to the laws of war, and the prisoner was

prepared to meet it with a fortitude becoming his character. But the

circumstances of his death aggravated his sufferings, and placed him in

a situation widely different from that of AndrÈ. The facts were narrated

to General Hull by an officer of the British commissary department, who

was present at the execution, and deeply moved by the conduct and

fate of the unfortunate victim, and the treatment he received. The

provost-martial, to whose charge he was consigned, was a refugee,

and behaved towards him in the most unfeeling manner; refusing the

attendance of a clergyman and the use of a bible, and destroying the

letters he had written to his mother and friends.

In the midst of these barbarities, Hale was calm, collected, firm;

pitying the malice that could insult a fallen foe and dying man,

but displaying to the last his native elevation of soul, dignity

of deportment, and an undaunted courage. Alone, unfriended, without

consolation or sympathy, he closed his mortal career with the

declaration, "that he only lamented he had but one life to lose for his

country." When AndrÈ stood upon the scaffold, he called on all around

him to bear witness, that he died like a brave man. The dying words of

Hale embodied a nobler and more sublime sentiment; breathing a spirit of

satisfaction, that, although brought to an untimely end, it was his lot

to die a martyr in his country's cause. The whole tenor of his conduct,

and this declaration itself, were such proofs of his bravery, that it

required not to be more audibly proclaimed. The following tribute is

from the muse of Dr. Dwight.

"Thus, while fond virtue wished in vain to save, Hale, bright and

generous, found a hapless grave; With genius' living flame his bosom

glowed, And science charmed him to her sweet abode; In worth's fair path

his feet adventured far, The pride of peace, the rising grace of war."

There was a striking similarity between the character and acts of Hale

and AndrÈ, but in one essential point of difference the former appears

to much the greater advantage. Hale was promised no reward, nor did he

expect any. It was necessary, that the service should be undertaken from

purely virtuous motives, without a hope of gain or of honor; because it

was of a nature not to be executed by the common class of spies, who

are influenced by pecuniary considerations; and promotion could not

be offered as an inducement, since that would be a temptation for an

officer to hazard his life as a spy, which a commander could not with

propriety hold out. Viewed in any light, the act must be allowed to bear

unequivocal marks of patriotic disinterestedness and self-devotion.

But AndrÈ had a glorious prize before him; the chance of distinguishing

himself in a military enterprise, honors, renown, and every allurement,

that could flatter hope and stimulate ambition. To say the least, his

personal advantages were to be commensurate with the benefit to his

country.

But whatever may have been the parallel between these two individuals

while living, it ceased with their death. A monument was raised

and consecrated to the memory of AndrÈ by the bounty of a grateful

sovereign. His ashes have been removed from their obscure resting-place,

transported across the ocean, and deposited with the remains of the

illustrious dead in Westminster Abbey. Where is the memento of the

virtues, the patriotic sacrifice, the early fate of Hale? It is not

inscribed in marble; it is hardly recorded in books. Let it be the more

deeply cherished in the hearts of his countrymen.

Life and Treason of Benedict Arnold · 第 15 / 17 章