(Vol. viii., pp. 174. 604.)
The following extracts and cuttings from newspapers, relative to the
unfortunate Major Andre, may interest your correspondent SERVIENS. I
believe I have some others, which I will send when I can lay my hand upon
them. I inclose a pencil copy of the scarce print of a sketch from a
pen-and-ink drawing, made by Andre himself on Oct. 1, 1780, of his crossing
the river when he was taken:
"_Visit to the Grave of Andre._--We stopped at Piermont, on the widest
part of Tappan Bay, where the Hudson extends itself to the width of
three miles. On the opposite side, in full view from the hotel, is
Tarrytown, where poor Andre was captured. Tradition says that a very
large white-wood tree, under which he was taken, was struck by
lightning on the very day that news of Andre's death was received at
Tarrytown. As I sat gazing on the opposite woods, dark in the shadows
of moonlight, I thought upon how very slight a circumstance often
depends the fate of individuals and the destiny of nations. In the
autumn of 1780, a farmer chanced to be making cider at a mill on the
east bank of the Hudson, near that part of Haverstraw Bay called
'Mother's Lap.' Two young men, carrying muskets, as usual in those
troubled times, stopped for a draught of sweet cider, and seated
themselves on a log to wait for it. The farmer found them looking very
intently on some distant object, and inquired what they saw. 'Hush,
hush!' they replied; 'the red coats are yonder, just within the Lap,'
pointing to an English gun-boat, with twenty-four men, lying on their
oars. Behind the shelter of a rock, they fired into the boat, and
killed two persons. The British returned a random shot; but ignorant of
the number of their opponents, and seeing that it was useless to waste
ammunition on a hidden foe, they returned whence they came with all
possible speed. This boat had been sent to convey Major Andre to the
British sloop-of-war Vulture, then lying at anchor off Teller's Point.
Shortly after Andre arrived, and finding the boat gone, he, in
attempting to pass through the interior, was captured. Had not those
men stopped to drink sweet cider, it is probable that Andre would not
have been hung; the American revolution might have terminated in quite
a different fashion; men now deified as heroes might have been handed
down to posterity as traitors; our citizens might be proud of claiming
descent from Tories, and slavery have been abolished eight years ago,
by virtue of our being British Colonies. So much may depend on a
draught of cider! But would England herself have abolished slavery had
it not been for the impulse given to free principles by the American
revolution? Probably not. It is not easy to calculate the consequences
involved even in a draught of cider, for no fact stands alone; each has
infinite relations. A very pleasant ride at sunset brought us to Orange
Town, to the lone field where Major Andre was executed. It is planted
with potatoes, but the plough spares the spot on which was once his
gallows and his grave. A rude heap of stones, with the remains of a
dead fir tree in the midst, are all that mark it; but tree and stones
are covered with names. It is on an eminence commanding a view of the
country for miles. I gazed on the surrounding woods, and remembered
that on this selfsame spot, the beautiful and accomplished young man
walked back and forth, a few minutes preceding his execution, taking an
earnest farewell look of earth and sky. My heart was sad within me. Our
guide pointed to a house in full view, at half a mile's distance, which
he told us was at that time the head-quarters of General Washington. I
turned my back suddenly upon it. The last place on earth where I would
wish to think of Washington is at the grave of Andre. I know that
military men not only sanction but applaud the deed; and, reasoning
according to the maxims of war, I am well aware how much can be said in
his defence. That Washington considered it a duty, the discharge of
which was most painful to him, I doubt not. But, thank God, the
instincts of any childhood are unvitiated by any such maxims. From the
first hour I read of the deed, until the present day, I never did, and
never could, look upon it as otherwise than cool, deliberate murder.
That the theory and practice of war commends the transaction, only
serves to prove the infernal nature of war itself.... A few years ago,
the Duke of York requested the British Consul to send the remains of
Major Andre to England. At that time two thriving firs were found near
the grave, and a peach-tree; which a lady in the neighbourhood had
planted there, in the kindness of her heart. The farmers who came to
witness the interesting ceremony generally evinced the most respectful
tenderness for the memory of the unfortunate dead, and many of the
children wept. A few idlers, educated by militia trainings and Fourth
of July declaration, began to murmur that the memory of General
Washington was insulted by any respect shown to the remains of Andre;
but the offer of a treat lured them to the tavern, where they soon
became too drunk to guard the character of Washington. It was a
beautiful day, and these disturbing spirits being removed, the
impressive ceremony proceeded in solemn silence. {644} The coffin was
in good preservation, and contained all the bones, with a small
quantity of dust. The roots of the peach-tree had entirely interwoven
the skull with their fine network. His hair, so much praised for its
uncommon beauty, was tied, on the day of his execution, according to
the fashion of the times. When his grave was opened, half a century
afterwards, the riband was found in perfect preservation, and sent to
his sister in England. When it was known that the sarcophagus
containing his remains had arrived in New York, for London, many ladies
sent garlands and emblematic devices, to be wreathed around it, in
memory of the 'beloved and lamented Andre.' In their compassionate
hearts, the teachings of nature were unperverted by maxims of war, or
that selfish jealousy which dignifies itself with the name of
patriotism. Blessed be God, that custom forbids women to electioneer or
fight. May the sentiment remain till war and politics have passed away!
Had not women and children been kept free from their polluting
influence, the medium of communication between earth and heaven would
have been completely cut off. At the foot of the eminence where the
gallows had been erected, we found an old Dutch farm-house, occupied by
a man who witnessed the execution, and whose father often sold peaches
to the unhappy prisoner. He confirmed the account of Andre's uncommon
personal beauty, and had a vivid remembrance of the pale but calm
heroism with which he met his untimely death."--From Miss Child's
_Letters from New York_.
"_Andre._--At the little town of Tappan, the unfortunate Major Andre,
condemned by the council of war as a spy, was executed and buried. His
remains were disinterred a few years ago, by order of the English
Government, carried to England, and, if I mistake not, deposited in
Westminster Abbey; whilst the remains of General Frazer, who fell like
a hero, at the head of the King's troops, lie without a monument in the
old redoubt near Still Water. The tree that grew over Andre's grave was
likewise sent to England; and, as I was told, planted in the King's
Garden, behind Carlton Palace."--Duke of Weimar's _Travels_.
"_Disinterment of Major Andre_.--This event took place at Tappan on
Friday, 10th inst., at one p. m., amidst a considerable concourse of
ladies and gentlemen that assembled to witness this interesting
ceremony. The British Consul, with several gentlemen, accompanied by
the proprietor of the ground and his labourers, commenced their
operations at eleven o'clock, by removing the heap of loose stones that
surrounded and partly covered the grave. Great caution was observed in
taking up a small peach-tree that was growing out of the grave, as the
Consul stated his intention of sending it to his Majesty, to be placed
in one of the Royal Gardens. Considerable anxiety was felt lest the
coffin could not be found, as various rumours existed of its having
been removed many years ago. However, when at the depth of three feet,
the labourers came to it. The lid was broken in the centre, and had
partly fallen in, but was kept up by resting on the skull. The lid
being raised, the skeleton of the brave Andre appeared entire; bone to
bone, each in its place, without a vestige of any other part of his
remains, save some of his hair, which appeared in small tufts; and the
only part of his dress was the leather string which tied it.
"As soon as the curiosity of the spectators was gratified, a large
circle was formed; when Mr. Eggleso, the undertaker, with his
assistants, uncovered the sarcophagus, into which the remains were
carefully removed. This superb depository, in imitation of those used
in Europe for the remains of the illustrious dead, was made by Mr.
Eggleso, of Broadway, of mahogany; the pannels covered with rich
crimson velvet, surrounded by a gold bordering; the rings of deep
burnished gold; the pannel also crimson velvet, edged with gold; the
inside lined with black velvet; the whole supported by four gilt balls.
"The sarcophagus, with the remains, has been removed on board his
Majesty's packet; where, it is understood, as soon as some repairs on
board are completed, an opportunity will be afforded of viewing
it."--From the _New York Evening Post_ of Aug. 11.
"The remains of the lamented Major Andre have (as our readers already
know) been lately removed from the spot where they were originally
interred in the year 1780, at Tappan, New York, and brought to England
in the Phaeton frigate by order of his Royal Highness the Duke of York.
Yesterday the sarcophagus was deposited in front of the cenotaph in
Westminster Abbey, which was erected by his late Majesty to the memory
of this gallant officer. The reinterment took place in the most private
manner, the Dean of Westminster superintending in person, Major-Gen.
Sir Herbert Taylor attending on the part of his Royal Highness the
Commander-in-Chief and Mr. Locker, Secretary to Greenwich Hospital, on
behalf of the three surviving sisters of the deceased."--From newspaper
of which the name and date have not been preserved.