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BY MISS SEWARD. ft- i ilHttifett: PRINTED FOE MATHEWS AND LBIGH^ 18, STRAND. 1808. ■// . . i l SM l ifii Irn4 . .ri7n''f'-''f^''''-l> i • ilfMifiliiii ■^ © h' if ii A, IMntedby W. Clowe*, Northaoriieriud Coart, Stmi^ .'M... ■'"■'% ADVERTISEMENT. ,in- THE author of the following sheets feels it incumbent upon him to observe, that he has no ambition to appear as a man of letters ; he has only a simple narrative to relate, which will promote the sacred cause of truth, and exempt him from the frequent interrogations of his European and Trans- Atlantic friends. The object df this work is to elucidate a transaction, the most important that occurred during the progress of the American war. The fate of the author was so much blended with that of Major Andre, that he considers It necessary to connect them to- gether; as it will tend the more effectually a9 IV. ADVERTISEMENT. to explain many circumstances which vv'ould otherwise appear very obscure. In consequence of his agency in this interesting affair, his own life was placed in imminent danger; and the pens of the histoiian and the traveller have been unjustly and illiberally exercised on the subject. Although their ignorance and partiality are eminently conspicuous, the author con- ceives it a duty which he owes to his own character, to expose their fallacies; particularly, as there is no person who possesses the means of explaining this sub- ject more fully than himself. The business being of a political nature, on which much has been said, written, and conjectured, he is well aware that many of his readers will be more or less influenced by their former opinions ; coinciding with, or dissenting from his statement, agreeably '% ADVERTISEMENT. V. to their former prejudices. From these, however, he solicits a candid retrospect of their sentiments ; while others, to whom the subject is novel, he hopes, will derive satis- faction from his reflections on many of the causes that produced the event in ques- tion — an event, which occasioned the death of an amiable and gallant officer in the most ignominious and tragical manner — an event, that has occasioned more misery to the author, than the pangs of death. In the following pages the writer will make no other comments than those natu- rally arising from the facts that will be stated, and proved. Hence there v n\ be no grounds for the exercise of malignant cavil, or partial criticism ; and the inquirer after truth will be better able to draw his own inferences, and judge how far the nar- rative is worthy of credit. ■«• ■..- *'^^-' ■*> VI. ADVERTISEMENT. ^ The author feels it his duty to apologise for any unbecoming appearance of egotism ; for, as he was a party in the tragical drama, personification, in detailing it, becomes un* avoidable: yet he cannot but lament the painful task thus imposed on him, of vin- dicating his own reputation against the illiberal attack of the Marquis de Chastel- leux, (a general in the French service,, under the command of Count Rochambeau,) in his work stiled " Travels through North America^ in the Years 1781, 1782, and 1783;" and also in another publication, recently and accidentally placed in the hands of the narrator, and from whence he has taken the extract with which the narrative commences. After a perusal of this volume, the candid reader will judge how far the insidious writer of the extract, just men- ADVERTISEMENT. vn. tioned, from the *' Politic tl Magazine for February, 1781," has been influenced by truth or liberality; — the author will only generally remark that, from beginning to end, it is a base fabrication ; and that, in those days of heat, jealousy, and party, when men's minds were mutually inflamed — when the standard of Discord waved tri- umphant, and friend and relative armed in her cause, the licentiousness of the press was carried to an unwarrantable height, and no rank, or character, however elevated, was free from the venom of slander. • . f l»« ,iif -«t%iy \ ••'■aMfMN-- ■-,»*- .->» . -;*fc^'' ^ ,> - ■ i ii(iii^ii|w^ "ft iM>»**c**- *S^?*S^^-'!^-*r*- ^' hi^Mtitt-v v«t w ia6» .i :'^. t ^ r . t^T ,.^., ^*ir \f, ' !* 'Y'^'^'n *:^''' -•^f. ., •::;:;>>,. .-, ./»^:^ 5r*^Mb V NARRATIVE OF ;<' fkr THE CAUSES WHICH LED TO THE ii^!i: DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. Extract from the Political Magazine for Fdnvanfy 17SI. *' CIRCUM8TANCK8 RB8PECTINO THE BBTRATINO OV MAioa ANDRE. W HEN Major Andre went to consult with General Arnold, he was carried to the house of a Mr. Smith, brother to the Smith, lately appointed Chief Justice of New York, by General Robertson, and also brother to a Dr. Smith, who lately lived in Downing- street, Westminster, and who is said to have gone off the morning that the soldiers fired B IS NABRATIVE OF THE on the rioters, and whose negro woman was hanged for being concerned in the burnings. While Major Andre was communicating with General Arnold, he lived at the house of Smith, and wore Smith's clothes, and when he set out from Washington's camp. Smith attended him till within about twelve miles of Knightsbridge, where Andre told him he knew his way perfectly well. Just after Smith left him, he was taken, and, at that very time, he had on Smith's clothes. Washington has tried Smith for being con- cerned in what they call Arnold's conspi- racy ; but the trial has turned out a mere &rce ; for Smith has not suffered any punish- ment. The people at New York therefore believe, that Smith betrayed Andre to the rebels, and are of opinion that he never can clear up his character any where but at the gallows." . DEATH OF MAJOH ANDRE. 3 . THE gloom and melancholy in which my unhappy agency had involved me, as just described and misrepresented, ren- dered it necessary for me to travel ; and to adopt all rational means to obliterate the re- membrance of the miseries I had endured : — hence I carefully secluded myself from those associations that might have a ten- dency to renew my affliction of mind ; and it is from this cause that I have so long been ignorant of the calumnies propagated by the artful, the interested, and the de- signing, to injure my character; while the public have hitherto been precluded from obtaining a representation of facts. Before entering upon the narrative that forms the subject of the following pages, it will be necessary to observe, that in the time of the American War, a free communication between Canada and New York, by means of the Lake Champlain and Hudson's Ri- b9 4 NARRATIVE OF THE ver, was of the utmost importance, in order to facilitate the operations of the British arms in the meditated plan of subjugating the Colonies; it was equally the interest of America, from every principle of sound policy, to counteract this measure. A chain of mountains extending along the banks of this river upwards of twenty miles, between Stony Point and Slaughter's Land- ing, near New Windsor, prevented a re- gular ferry from being established, to pre- serve the communication between the eastern and southern states, for the con* veyancfe of supplies of provisions, and for the marching and counter-marching of the troops of the confederacy. It therefore became necessary that a fort should be erected for the above purpose, to check any naval force that might obstruct the passage of the boats employed at the ferries. .IJ \ •fJtx • • • ' For this purpose Fort Montgomery was DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 6 erected in 1776, and a strong boom laid across the river, guarded by two frigates; the Hudson being navigable for ships of war of 60 guns much higher than this fort, and, at springtides, for frigates near to Al- bany. In 1777 Fort Montgomery was at- tacked and carried by Sir Henry Clinton, who passed it in his attempt to &vour the descent of General Burgoyne from Canada, in the autumn of that year, and in all proba- bility a junction of these armies would have been effected, had the expedition been earlier adopted, as meditated by Sir Henry Clinton. The interception of a courier happened at that time in a manner so singular as to be worthy of attention ; and to describe which I shall make a short digression. '^ - The courier dispatched by General Bur- goyne to General Sir Henry Clinton, was charged to deliver to him a silver buUet, and to give it into the General's own hands. In 6 J NARRATIVE OF THE case of surprise, if challenged from whence he came, or suspected of being an enemy, he was ordered to swallow the bullet, which would prevent the message from being de- tected. Having reached as far as Fort Mont- gomery, near New York,* he made enquiry for General Clinton ; and finding, on being brought before him, that he was not the per- son described to him as the General to whom he was sent, but that he was Governort General George Clinton of the State of New York; he turned aside and swallowed the silver ball. Being ob- served by some of the attendants, he was im- mediately taken into custody; when being interrogated as to what business he had with General Clinton, and discovering some em- barrassment in his answers, it was proposed to administer an emetic, to ascertain what he had swallowed with such precipitation. The * When fhis transaction occurred, the narrator re- sided in the vicinity. , m DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. whence snemy, which ing de- :Mont- snquiry ►n being the per- owhom ERNORr F THE ed aside 3ing ob- was im- en being had with ome em- propvjsed I what he on. The larratoT re- idea was adopted, and the consequence was, that he threw up the silver ball ; which being unscrewed, was found to contain a letter from General Burgoyne to General Sir Hen- ry Clinton, the purport of which was to explain his forlorn situation, after the attack of General Arnold at the heights of Bremen. The courier was immediately hung as a spy. Upon the reduction of Fort Montgomery, the royal force proceeded up the Hudson, to the vicinity of Albanyt carrying fire and de- vastation before them. On both sides of the river the shores were undefended by moun- tains, opening to an extensive champaign- country, well inhabited by substantial far- mers, of whom two thirds were unfriendly to the dismemberment of the empire by the measure pf independence of Great Britain. The town of Kingston, beautifully situ- ated near the west bank of the Hudson river, lii i NARRATIVE or THE was laid in ashes by General Vaughan ; it had been the seat of government. The conven- tion of the State of New York had here formed their new constitution, and it was likewise here that Rose and Middagh, two leaders of the loyalists in that part of the county of Ulster, were executed, without a regular form of trial, for their adherence to the royal cause; this circumstance, with others of a similar nature, had rendered the place extremely obnoxious to the loyal fol- lowers of the British arms, and possibly might have occasioned its conflagration. A large body of loyalists were forming at this time on the eastern shore of the river to join the royal army, but the advanced state of the season prevented the continuance of the Bri- tish force in the river, and they were com- pelled to disperse on the advance of the American troops, on the surrender of Gene- ral Burgoyne in 1777. > U ! DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 9 The name given to this place hy the first Dutch settlers was Esopus : it is now called Kingston, and is celebrated in Chief Justice Smith's History of the province of New York, for affording the best flour and draft horses on the Continent of America, as well as a particular beer, in great request for its nutritious qualities. . " a .iq i.jw),i ' If the importance of obstructing the navi- gation of the Hudson existed merely in idea, previous to this event, the erecting of an in- surmountable barrier against the British navy became now indispensably necessary. Commissioners were therefore appointed to examine the passes of the high lands, and a: point of land projecting in the river on the west side, not far distant from Fort Montgo- mery, called West Point, was selected, firora the natural advantages presented, for this purpose ; not only from the strength of the 10 NARRATIVE OF THE m circumjacent ground, but from the narrow- ness of the Hudson, which here takes a short winding circuit east and west, uniformly different from its usual course of north and south. This defile was fortified by a stror;;^ boom thrown across the river, and a rrt'p'e of fortifications ascending to the highest Lvount, a natural platform, on which was erected the strongest work, called Fort Putnam; this was bomb-proof and unassailable, from its strength and elevated situation, being built on and composed of rocks, of which the place abounded. As this post was not to be flanked) it was of course deemed impreg- nable ; in the confidence arising from which, it was abundantly stored with every military means of defence that the country was capa- ble of affording at that stiire of the war, and made the grand ai erit 1 c ine mhm army. The communication above the garrison being thus secured, it was capable of being sup? DEATH Oi MAJOM ANDRE. 11 plied by water carriage with nil weij^hty ar- ticles, essfentially requisite as well tor defence as to render it a general magazine. This important pass was command*«<1 m the earlier part of the campaign of 1779 hy Major-General Howe, one of the oldest offi- cers in rank in the American service ; he was a particular favourite of General Wash- ington. General Howe had been previously in the British service ; was well versed in tactics, a rigid disciplinarian, and was ac- knowledged to be an engineer of the highest reputation. He had had the command of Fort Johnson at Cape Fear, in North Caro- lina. Possessing these qualifications, and hi» zeal in the service being evident, he was high in the confidence of General Washing- ton. General Howe, upon assuming the command, contributed by military art to that invincible defence formed by nature to ren- der West Point impregnable. Eighteen 19 NARRATIVE OF THE miles below West Point were erected the two forts of Verplank and Stony Point, (the first on the east, the last on the west side of the Hudson river); at the entrance of this range of mountain, a ferry had long before been in use, called King's Ferry, and which was protected now by these forts, which were esteemed the dependencies of West Point, and considered as the keif of the American Continent. I I General Howe being desirous of a more active command in the line of the main army, immediately under the direction of General Washington, the latter conferred the important trust of West Point to Gene- ral Arnold, who, being lame from the wounds received in the several actions in which he had gallantly shared, from the walls of Quebec to the plains of Saratoga, was thought from those circumstances, and his approved brave- ry, most worthy of succeeding GeneralHowe. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDHE. 13 The prowese and gallantry of General Ar- nold, evidenced in his rapid rise from the rank of a captain to a major-general, in the short space of three years, while it proved his merit, justified Washington's appoint- ment, for which he received the sanction of Congress, and the applause of the people. The invincible spirit which he and hi» hardy followers encountered in their march I through an inhospitable desert is inconceiv- able. They proceeded from the camp at Cambridge to Quebec, subjected to cold» hunger, and fatigue, (far surpassing in difii* culty and distress the march of Hannibal across the Alps,) reduced almost to starva- vation, and, however incredible it may seem, compelled occasionally to eat the leather of their shoes and boots ! During this distress, every man in his army recollected the general's patient and tmmmt MMHtaLu , 14 NARRATIVE OF THE pi m m indefetigable zeal at the siege of Quebec, where he received a wound; his prudent and well-conducted retreat through Canada, and gallant defence of the American fleet on Lake Chpiiplain ; the whole of his career in the reduction of the army under General Burgoyne, whose defeat was principally ascribed to Arnold's singular bravery, and his attack of the royal troops in Connecti- cut under General Tryon, against a far su- perior force; all these circumstances had raised his reputation to the highest eclat among his fellow -citizens, and insured him the most perfect confidence in the army and in Congress. Although his conduct at first drew upon him the resentment of the executive council of Pennsylvania, when in the com- mand of Philadelphia, and for awhile eclipsed his rising glory, yet a judicious court-mar- tial, after the most strict and impartial inves- iii DEATH OF MAJOR ANDBfe. \3 tig£^tion, acquitted him of every charge that could in the least impeach his integrity ; and General Washington, in confirmation of their decision, conferred on him the command of West Point as a mark of special favour and distinguished approbation, and earnestly pressed his assuming the command against New York, on the junction of the allied army under Count Rochambeau. At this period he visited my house with his family, on his way to his appointment. I opened my doors with hospitality for his reception, as I had done generally to the offi- cers of the army, and other genteel travellers, bemg always ready to shew such attentions, from the amplitude of the means I then pos- sessed. I spread my table with cheerfulness for his entertainment, ard conceived his ac- quaintance as an honourable acquisition. Little did I then conceive I was dispensing hospitality to a man whose defection from the fijitmmt 16 NARRATIVE OF THE cause he had so gallantly maintained after- wards astonished the whole world. ih My house was situated on the nearest route, where all commupications generally passed from the eastern and southern states across the ferry at Stony Point, ahout 18 miles below West Point. General Arnold's residence, while commanding the g-arrison, was at the house and farm of Colonel Beverly Robinson, who had relinquished them, &nd joined the royal army at New York. This residence was situated opposite to West Point, on the eastern side of the Hudson, a dreary situation, environed with moun- tains, and noway calculated for the residence of a lady of Mrs. Arnold's taste, she being well qualified, from a most amiable dispo- sition, and every engaging attraction, to be at once the example and ornament of the po- litest circles. Being M that time but recently returned from Charleston, South Carolina, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 17 nearest enerally rn states bout 18 Arnold's garrison, I Beverly em, and rk. This to West Hudson, ;h moun- residence jhe being )le dispo- on, to be of the po- jt recently Carolina, I '% with my family, Mrs. Smith was equally des- titute of the society which each had been accustomed to in their respective cities. The intercourse by land or water from West Point to Stony Point in the summer sea- son >vas easily attained ; they were therefore engaged in frequent visits to each other, and General Arnold was as frequently with me, in search of those culinary supplies, unat- tainable in his mountainous recesses. I felt myself happy in rendering him- every aid in my power, and cultivated his acquaintance from motives of security; for in my absence from the State of New York, my family in general were suspected of disaffection to the American cause ; my eldest brother, the late Chief Justice of Canada, having been ba- nished within the British lines at New York for his unequivocal attachment to the Eng- lish government ; another brother, who was generally deemed an enemy to the revolution, and myself, were also more than suspected I if '■ m. 18 NARRATIVE OF THE of being in the British interest, from the cir- cumstance of my being appointed, with two other gentlemen of the county of Orange, a Doctor Butwater and Colonel Sherrard, (by a very large majority of the electors of that county) to oppose in the convention of de- legates of the different counties of the pro- vince in 1776, the measure of Independence then recommended and adopted by Con- gress. Indeed, such was the jealousy of the times, that to be descended immediately from English parentage, or to possess any lukewarmness in the rash and intemperate measures that the demagogues of the mob chose to dictate, was sufficient to render the tenure of life, liberty, and propery, most pre- carious. 1; From the elevated situation I possessed, commanding an extensi ve view of the capa- cious Bay of Haverstraw, at this part of the river five miles wide, I frequently observed DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 19 flags of truce passing and repassing* ; and I took the libertyof requesting to know from General Arnold if there was any impropriety in the simple interrogation, whether the flags were for an exchange of prisoners by cartel? He answered generally, that in a short time the business of the flags would be explained. Soon afterwards, it was men- tioned at dinner by General Arnold, that the flags had brought letters from Colonel Be- verly Robinson, who, General Arnold said, was very anxious to make terms for the reco- very of his estates, that had been confiscated to the public use ; and that Colonel Ilobin- son was authorized to propose, through his medium, some preliminary grounds for an accommodation between Great Britain and America. Colonel Lamb of the Artillery, at West Point, an old and sagacious officer, who, with a number of other officers from the garrison, was present at dinner, immedi- * This was early in September, 1780. C 2 M 'I ! irii.! i W: Rl '! 20 NARRATIVE OF THE ately said, that any proposition of that kind ought with more propriety to be made to Congress, than to a General, only com- manding a district; General Arnold replied, that the communication must at first be made through some channel, and here the conversation ended. Some time afterwards General Arnold, in another visit, seemed more communicative ; he expressed his detestation of the French aliianc€y &om the perfidiousness of their na- tional character; ridiculed the solecism and inconsistency of an absolute monarch being the ally of a people contending for freedom, who kept his own subjects in the most des- potic and absolute slavery ; thought it was an unnatural union, of no duration, and that it was not made by France until she saw the Americans were able to defend themselves, which would be more to their own national honour and glory. General Arnold then DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. S mentioned that he had received another flag of truce, and that Colonel Beverly Robinson had anxiously solicited an interview, to be more explanatory of the propositions that were to produce, if acceded to by Congress, a general peace, and happily terminate the expence of blood and treasure, that were ruinous to both countries, in the prosecution of a war without an object. He said he conceived that the overtures made on the part of Great Britain by her commissioners, the Earl of Carlisle, Governor Johnson, and Mr. Eden, (now Lord Auckland) were founded in all sincerity and good FAITH, that they fully met the ultimatum that the generality of the Americans desired, but by what he could learn from Colonel Robinson, the present terms held out went much farther than the propositions of 1778, and he made no doubt that they would be the basis of an honourable peace ; this event, he said, he most cordially wished, being ii! i ii" 'ill J:l: "(■■;:; 99 NARRATIVE OF THE heartily tired of the war ; and he then com- plained of being ill used by Congress and the executive council of Pennsilvania, which Aac^ treated him with injustice^ in not sufficiently ESTIMATING HIS SERVICES*. I requested to know from General Arnold if he had informed General Washington of Colonel Robinson's applications, and what was the General's opinion of the business? He answered, that he had written to him for directions how to act, but that he was then gone to Connecticut or Rhode Island, on a visit to Count Roch ambeau, the comman- der in chief of the French troops, lately ar- * At the time of this interview, General Arnold was at my house; and, in the familiarity of conver- sation, he expressed himself as follows ;— <* Smith, here am I now, after having fought the battles of my country, and find myself with a ruined constitution, and this limb (holding up his wounded leg) now ren- dered useless to me. At the termination of this war, where can I seek for compensation for such damages as I have sustained } ii'M DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 23 rived from France. Soon after this conver- sation, I accompanied my family on a visit to Fish Kill, a settlement about 18 miles higher up the river from Robinson's house, where I left them ; and stopping at General Ar- nold's quarters on my return, agreeably to his particular request, he solicited me to conduct a flag of truce to the Vulture sloop of war, then lying in Haverstraw Bay, for the purpose of bringing Colonel Beverly Robinson to the intended interview. I was so deeply interested in the object of this meet- ing, as represented to me by General Arnold, and the success of it was so congenial to my wishes, that I made no hesitation to assure him of my cheerful concurrence ; and in a day or two afterwards. General Arnold came to my house at Haverstraw with the necessary passports for my mission to the Vulture. Having himself made the necessary ar- rangements, such as providing a boat froi)) > ! S4 NARRATIVE OF THE 111 ;.j| the quarter-master, Major Kcirs, at Stony Point, with every publicity, I was surprised that he should request me to go in the night. He begged of me to procure for him hands from among my tenants that had been used to the water. I stated to him the impropriety of conducting a flag in a manner which I deemed unprecedented; but he overruled my objection by assurances that it was pro- perly understood on board the Vulture, and that the business was of a nature not to be generully known for the present among the citizens. Having made the promise, I could not recede, and with much reluctance I consented to go ; but he had great diffi- culty to persuade my tenants to accompany me, as they were intimidated by the danger of the undertaking by night, nor would they have consented, although promised handsome pay, and menaced with confinement for their non-compUance, if I had not appeared wil- ling to countenance the measure, assuring DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 23 them it was, in my opinion, for the good of the country, which, upon the representations of General Arnold, were my real sentiments. Accordingly, after General Arnold had given the order for muffling the oars, that we might not be impeded by the boats that guarded the shores, a precaution necessary, as there was a regular water patrole, to pre- vent those disaffected to the American inte- rest, or Tories, as the friends to the royal cause were called, from carrying provisions or intelligence to the British ships occasion- ally lying in the river. This precaution, however, staggered the confidence of th6 eldest of the watermen, who bluntly told General Arnold that if the business was of a fair and upright nature, as he assured them it was, he saw no necessity for any disguise, or to seize the veil of night to execute that which might be as well transacted in broad day-hght. The watermen were simple, ho- li n i (|!iSl f :;,'! I •ill im i S6 NARRATIVE OF THE nest men, had been accustomed to their oc- cupation, and were my tenants, in whom I could place the utmost confidence ; and it afterwards appeared I was not deceived. General Arnold insisted on their pursuing the business, and assured them he had the command of the militia of the country for 60 miles round West Point hy order of Congress, and that he would give a countersign to the guard boats, that we might pass unmolested. The countersign given was Congress; thus arranged, no farther hesitation was made to gain the Vulture, then lying at the extre- mity of Haverstraw Bay. The night was serene, the tide favourable, and the the silent manner in which we passed the fort at Sto- ny Point, at the mouth of Haverstraw Creek, precluded any obstructions ; in short, although the distance was nearly 12 miles, we soon reached the ship. On our approach we were hailed by the centinel on deck, or- dered to bring to, and questioned whither 1?. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. rt leir oc- vhom I and it jceived. lursuing had the 'y for 60 ^.ongress, fw to the nolested, iss ; thus made to le extre- light was the silent rt at Sto» iverstraw in short, 12 miles, approach deck, or- 1 whither bound ? I answered, with a flag of truce to the Vulture sloop of war, upon which I was heartily assailed with a volley of oaths, all in the peculiarity of sea language, by the Officer commanding the watch on the quar- ter deck, and commanded instantly to haul alongside, or he would blow us out of the water. Upon corc'ng alongside, I was sa- luted with another discharge of the same nautical eloquence ; and orders were given to hoist the rebel rascal on board, which was prevented by my climbing up a rope fastened to the main chains, and so reaching the main deck. I was questioned as to my business, and how I could presume to come on board his Majesty's ship under colour of a flag of truce at night? To which I answered, I was so authorized by my papers, which I requested he would give to Captain Suthemnd, the commander of the ship, and Colonel Robin- son, as I knew they were on board; this request, however, seemed to have no eflect; ■■■It S3 NARRATIVE OF THE but he poured on me torrents of abuse, threatening to hang me at the yard-arm, as, he said, another rebel had been a few days before; being nevertheless unintimidated, and seeing Colonel Robinson and the Cap- tain, for whom I had letters, I raised my voice and said, he must be answerable for my being delayed : whether I was heard in the cabin or not I cannot say, but soon af- terwards a boy came on deck and said, " the captain orders the man below;" he con- ducted me into the cabin, where on my en- trance I saw a venerable looking gentleman, whom I recognised to be Colonel Beverly Robinson, dressed in a regimental uniform. He received me politely, desired me to be seated, and shortly introduced me to Cap- tain Sutherland, who lay ill in his birth. Colonel Beverly Robinson having perused the letter from General Arnold, apologized for retiring a few minutes, ordering some re- freshment, and left me to converse with ■i DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 29 Captain Sutherland, to whom I related my uncourtly reception on deck ; and his ami- able urbanity compensated me for the incivi- lity of his officer on deck. Having con- versed with Captain Sutherland for twenty minutes on indifferent subjects, Colonel Ro- binson returned, and introduced Mr. Ander- son to me, saying he was mentioned in General Arnold's letter, for whom he had sent a pass to come on shore, in case he Colonel Robinson should be unable to ac- company me. Colonel Robinson pleaded indisposition, and said Mr. Anderson could as effectually answer all the purposes by going on shore as himself; there seemed no reluctance on the part of Anderson to supply Colonel Robinson s place, and he appeared in a dress equipped for the purpose, wearing boots and a large blue great-coat. For my own part it made no difference to me who bore me company, so that the objept of my mission was fully answered, and the )■■ 111':'.' li 30 NARRATITE OF tHE great national ends obtained, which Arnold assured me would be the result of the affair. Mliii "1 1^ Mr. Anderson being ready, we left the ship, and were rowed in a short time to the western shore, to the place which General Arnold had appointed for the interview ; this was at the foot of a mountain called the Long Clove, near the low water mark, whither my servant had conducted General Arnold, on horseback, he being still lame from his wounds. Very little conversation passed between Mr. Anderson and myself, excepting trivial remarks about the tide, the weather, and matters of no concern! Mr. Anderson, from his youthful appearance and the softness of his manners, did not seem to me to be qua- lified for a business of such moment; his nature seemed fraught with the milk of hu- man kindness. :l m DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 31 ■m On my approach to the place of appoint- ment, I found General Arnold ready to re- ceive me; he was hid among Jirs. I men- tioned to him Colonel Beverly Robinson's reason for not accompanying me, and the delegation of a young gentleman, a Mr. An- derson, whom I had brought with me, and who was then with the watermen on the strand. He appeared much agitated, and expressed chagrin at the disappointment of not seeing Colonel Robinson. He desired me, however, to conduct Mr. Anderson to him, which being done, he requested me to remain with the hands at the boat. I went as directed, but felt greatly mortified at not being present at the interview, to which 1 conceived myself entitled from my rank in life, and the trouble I had taken to effect the meeting. A t length they continued such a time in conference, that I deemed it expe- dient to inform them of the approaching dawn of day. Shortly afterwards both came S2 NARRATIVE OF THE down to the boat, and General Arnold, with much earnestness, solicited me to return with Mr. Anderson to the Vulture; but I pointed out the impracticability of effecting his wish, from the great distance, and the fatigue of the hands. He then applied to the men, who declared themselves unable to gra- tify his wish, through want of strength to ac- compHsh it, and the ebb tide being against them. Convinced of the apparent impracti- cability of the attempt to reach the ship, and return before day without being discovered from either shore by the inhabitants, whose eyes were constantly watching the move- ments on the river, not only from the forts, but the surrounding shores, he relinquished his solicitations, and desired I would endea- vour to return the boat to the place from whence we first embarked : this, with much labour, and taking the circuit of the eddies, wais nearly effected, (as we left the boat at Crane*s Isl^iid) when our attention was I i)EATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 33 called to the cannonade from Gallows Point against the Vulture, which was compelled to fall down the river, and appeared to be set on fire; Colonel Livingston, however, must have been totally unacquainted with General Arnold's designs, or he never would hav^ fired at that time upon the ship* I will here again request the candid and liberal reader to judge whether any man in his senses would or would not have refused to carry Mr. Anderson back to the Vulture, if he knew the extent of General Arnold's plot, and the danger to which he was ex- posed in case of a discovery. If the purport of the interview had been fully accom- plished, why could not General ArnnlJ have given me a flag, to carry this gentleman on board the Vulture ? The fact is, he had not tecovered the trepidation into which he was thrown on Mr. Anderson's first landing, from what cause let the reader form his own -.*.■- I:' 'tli !i ) I i nl ■*:.: 34 NARRATIVE OF THE opinion. Julius Caesar did not discover more intrepidity than General Arnold, who, in the many actions in which he was engaged, never retired without some scar or wound, as honourable testimonies of bravery. On my return home, I found that Gene- ral Arnold and Mr. Anderson had arrived long before, Mr. Anderson having mounted the horse my servant had rode, when he fol- lowed General Arnold to the Long Clove, the place of Anderson's landing. He ap- peared vexed that the ship had been com- pelled to leave her position ; and, after taking breakfast, and my ague coming on, it being the day of its return, I was obliged to retire, as well on that account as to recover from the fatigues of the night; so that General Arnold and Mr. Anderson were left alone the far greater part of the day. The conversation at breakfast was principally about the arrival iiife'-- 35 DJEATH Ol" MAJOR ANDRE. of the fleet at New York, under the com- mand of Admiral Arbuthnot, the general health and spirit of the British army, and other desultory topics of no consequence. Towards the evening Arnold came to my house, and proposed that I should convey Mr. Anderson back to the Vulture, which had nearly regained her former situation; he saw, however, from the state of sickness under which I then laboured, with a fit of the ague upon me, that I was unable to gra- tify him; on which he proposed my accom- panying him part of his way on his return to New York, by land, as soon as my health would permit, on the removal of the ague fit; to which I made no objection, as, when better, it would be in my way to visit and bring my family home from Fish Kill, being obliged to cross the river for that purpose. He soon after returned, and told me a diffi- culty had occurred, of which he was not before apprised ; fbr that Anderson had come d2 36 NARRATIVE OF THE on shore in a military dress, which he had borrowed, from pride or vanity, from an Offi- cer of his acquaintance at New York ; that as it would be impossible for him to travel in that uniform, he requested the loan of one of my coats. Being nearly of my size, I lent him a coat : the other part of his dress, he said, did not require change. General Ar- nold then proposed returning to his com- mand at West Point, leaving Mr. Anderson very disconsolate with me. I endeavoured to amuse him by shewing him the prospect from the upper part of my house, from whence there was an extensive view over the capacious bay of Haverstraw, to the op- posite shore ; - he cast an anxious look to- wards the Vulture, and with a heavy sigh wished he w^s on board. I endeavoured to console him by the hope of his being at the White Plains, or New York, before her. Finding myself better, I promised to ac- company him on his way. I could not help DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRK. 37 remarking to him, that I thought the Gene- ral might have ordered a flag of truce from Stony Point, to have returned him to the Vulture, without the fatigue of his going to the White Plains, that appearing to mc a circuitous route, unless he had business to transact at that place of a public nature. From this time he seemed shy, and desirous to avoid much conversation ; he continued to urge preparations for his departure, and V arefully avoided being seen by persons that came to the house. Previous" to his quitting it, General Ar- nold had prepared a passport for him to go to the White Plains, and a flag of truce for me to go thither and return. Finding my- self better, and refreshed with the rest I had taken, I ordered my servant to get the horses in readiness, and we reached the ferry at Stony Point before it was dark, intending, if the weather should be fine, to proceed as I'M :.* 38 NARRATIVE 0[» TIIK far as Major Dela Van*a that night, at a place called Crum Pond, the distance ol* about eight or ten miles from the ferry, where I knew we should be well entertained, and take the dawn of the morning to pro* ceed with more satislaction. Between my house and the fort at Stony Point, our con- versation was principally about the taking and re-taking of that place ; I found my feU low-travcller very backward in giving any opinion, or saying much about it. We were met on tlie road by several officers belonging to this post, with whom we conversed very freely, and stopped at the sutler^s at the ferry to drink with them. When we anived on the opposite side, we rode up to the tent of Colonel Livingston, the commanding Officer at Verjilanks Point; I being well ac- quainted with him, he having served his clerkship and studied the law with my bror ther, the late Chief Justice of Canada, and being also a relation of Mrs.Smith ; he pressed DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 39 us to stay to supper with him, but this Mr. Anderson seemed desirous to decline. As we proceeded, I thought he grew more cheer- ful, and as our road became better, we rode on with an increased speed, and had reached about five or six miles when we were chal- lenged by a patrole party. On advancing, the commanding officer, a Captain Bull, demanded a countersign before we should pass, and drew his corps about us ; he enquired who we were, the reason of our travelling in the night, and from whence we came ? I told him who I was, and that we had pHssports from General Arnold, the commanding officer at West Point, which we had received from the general that day; that we were on the public service, on busi- ness of the highest import, and that he would be answerable for our detention one moment; he insisted on seeing the passports, and conducted us to a house in the vicinity where tfaere was a light on approaching the I ' # 40 NARRATIVE OF THE house Mr. Anderson seemed very uneasy; but I cheered him by saying our papers would carry us to any part of the country to which they were directed, and that no person dare presume to detain us. When we came to the light I presented the passports, which satis- fied the captain ; but he seemed better pleased when I told him I intended to quarter that night at Major De la Van's who, he said, was a staunch friend to the cause of his country, would treat us well, and render every aid in his power that tended to pro- mote the welfare of America ; he soon began to be more pleased, and in the most impre j- sive manner intreated us not to proceed one inch farther in the night, as it was very dan- gerous, for the Cow Boys had been out the preceding night, and had done much mischief, by carrying off cattle, and some of the inha- bitants as prisoners. Alarmed at this intelli- gence, I was hesitating what to do, when niy companion expressed his wish to pro* DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 41 ceed; but the captain suggested many pru- dential reasons why he would not advise our progress at night. He particularly re- marked that we had little chance of defend- ing ourselves against both parties then out, as he had heard them firing some little time before he met us. All this determined me to take the captain's advice, which seemed to direct the surest step for our safety. I accordingly returned a short distance, to look for night-quarters, and my companion re- luctantly followed. ; . '• Cow Boys was a name given to those who were in the British interest ; while the name of Skinners was the appellation of their op- ponents; the latter were a banditti, who in- discriminately plundered friend or foe ; and all those who were peaceable people and had property, w^ere subjected to their con- tributions : a good horse, a fat ox, a cow, or a pig, were the particular incentives for 49 NARRATIVE OF THE it i '^ plunder, outrage, inhuman barbarity, and even murder. This was the unhappy state of a district more than fifty-five miles in ex- tent, in one of the oldest and best settled counties in the government, where, literally, brother was against brother, and father against son, frequently imbruing their hands in each other's blood. All friendly intercourse was at an end, for each was jealous of the other, and no one slept safely in his bed. Many families hid themselvels at night in barns, wheat-ricks, corn-cribs, and stacks of hay ; and, on each returning day, blessed their good fortune that their houses had escaped the flames. Knowing these fects, from liv- ing so near the spot, and frequently seeing the unfortunate sufferers that fled from it, I was very thankful for Captain Bull's advice not to risk the ride by night, and cheerfully consented to adopt it. With no small difficulty we therefore re- # DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 43 turned several miles, and gained admittance into a house for the night ; while such was the caution and danger of admitting noctur- nal inmates, that we were obliged to take to bed or keep the family up, who would not retire until they saw us safely lodged. We slept in the same bed ; and I was often dis- turbed with the restless motions, and uneasi- ness of mind exhibited by my bed-fellow, ho on observing the first approach of day, summoned my servant to prepare the horses for our departure. He appeared in the morning as if he had not slept an hour during the night ; he at first was much dejected, but a pleasing change took place in his coun- tenance when summoned to mount his horse. The landlord, who was a very kind and civil man, (I think his name was M*Roy) refused to take any compensation for the trouble which we had given him. He, too, had been plundered of nearly all his horses anfi cattle. He therefore most devoutly '• # 44 NARRATIVE OF THE m m -n m ' t supplicated vengeance against the authors of the war, and wished himself back to the Highlands of Scotland. I stopped at his house on my return. M*Koy*8 blunt- ness pleased my companion ; he professed himself a loyal adherent to the crown. I'- Whs singular that the Scotch in the southerrj states were attached to the royal interest, but to the northward their principles were diametrically the reverse, some few instances excepted: tut to whatever party they ad- hered, they discovered the national character of invincible integrity to their trust. We rode very cheerfully towards Pine's bridge without interruption, or any event that excited apprehension; here I proposed to leave my companion; but I observed that the nearer we approached the bridge, the more his countenance brightened into a cheerful serenity, and he became very affa- ble ; in short, I now found him highly enter- # DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 45 taining; he was not only well informed in general history, but well acquainted with that of America, particularly New York, which he termed the residuary legatee of the British government, (for it took all the re- maining lands not granted to the proprietary and chartered provinces.) He had consulted the Muses as well as Mars, for he conversed freely on the belles lettres : music, painting, and poetry, seemed to be his delight. He displayed a judicious taste in the choice of the authors he had read, possessed great ele- gance of sentiment, and a most pleasing manner of conveying his ideas, by adopting the flowery colouring of poetical imagery. He lamented the causes which gave birth to and continued the war, and said if there ^as a correspondent temper oii the part of the Americans, with the prevaihng spirit of the British ministry, peace was an event not fer distant; he intimated that measures were then in agitation for the accomplishment of 1^ '« N 1N' i|/!!l • 46 NARRATIVE OF THE that desirable object, before France could establish her perfidious designs. He sin- cerely wished the fate of the war could alone be determined in the fair, open, field-contest, between as many British in number as those under the command of Count Rochambeau at Rhode Island, whose effective force he seemed clearly to understand ; he descanted on the richness of the scenery around us, and particularly admired, from every emi- nence, the grandeur of the Flighland moun- tains, bathing their lofty summits in the clouds from their seeming watery base at the north extremity of Haverstraw Bay. The pleasantry of converse, and mildness of the weather, so insensibly beguiled the time, that we at length found ourselves at the bridge before I thought we had got half the way; and I now had reason to think my fellow-traveller a different person from the character I had at first formed of him. i ■«,<■ I # DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 47 This bridge crosses Croton river, a branch of the Hudson ; here we halted, and at a low house on the right endeavoured to ob- t .in some breakfast, from an old matronly Dutch woman, and provender for the horses ; in this expectation, however, we were dis- appointed ; the Cow Boys or Skinners had been there the night before, and taken all the supplies of her cupboard, except some Indian meal, which she had mixed up with water, and boiled i. a consistency, by the Dutch called support. This, with *he ad- dition of some milk, from a single cow they had mercifully left her, was the only fare ;e could procure, and it being remarkably clean, (for which the Dutch of the country are deservedly celebrated) we made ^. good meal ; our appetites being keen from having been supperlessthe preceding night :— While at breLkrast I mentioned my determination to proceed no farther. Having discharged the bill to the woman, in the local money of 48 NARRATIVE OF IHE [I -,5 1 !« I W the county, my companion requested me to lend him some, and I cheerfully supplied him with the half of my pocket amount, although I was afiraid it was not current below that place ; the bridge being accounted the south boundary of the American lines. He was af- fected at parting, and offered me a valuable gold watch in remembrance of him, as a keep-sake, which I refused. The horse was furnished by General Arnold; the saddle and bridle were borrowed of me, with the promise that they should be returned, or the value of them paid to me. »-..!::. Having given him directions about the road he. was to take upon crossing the bridge, with a message to my brother, the chief justice, whom he knew, we parted. I pro- ceeded on my way to Fish Kill, taking Ge- neral Arnold's quarters at Robinson's house in my route: 1 mentioned to General Ar- nold the distance I accompanied Mr. Ander- ;ii "!t DEATH OF MAJOA ANDRE. 49 son, which gave him apparently much sa- tisfaction. His dinner being ready I partook of it, refreshed my horses, and in the even- ing proceeded to Fish Kill to my family. Here I found General Washington had ar- rived in the course of the afternoon, on his return from visiting Count Rochambeau, and I rupped in his company, with a large retinue, at General Scott's. The next day I went on business to Ploughkeepsie, and re- turned to Fish Kill the ensuing evening. It was on the 25th of September, about midnight, that the door cf the room wherein I lay in bed with Mrs. Smith, was forced open with great violence, and instantly the chamber was filled with soldiers, who approached the bed with fixed bayonets. 1 was then, without cere- mony, drawn out of bed by a French officer, named Govion, whom I recollected to have entertained at my house not long before, in the i?uite of the Marquis de la Fayette. He E 50 NARRATIVE OF THE commanded me instantly to dress myselfj and to accompany him to General Washing- ton, having an order from the general, he said, to arrest me. The house was the resi- dence of Colonel Hay, who had married my sister. The family was thrown into great confusion ; the female part especially were in the deepest distress; indeed, the shock so much affected Mrs. Smith, that she never fully recovered from it ; and , which added to my subsequent sufferings, was the cause of her death. I perceived that any opposition would be ineffectual ; Colonel Hay desired to know for what cause the arrest was made? to which Govion would give no satisfactory answer, I then desired the privilege of having my servant and one of my horses to go with him to General Washington, at Robinson's house, which he refused ; and I was immediately marched off, on foot, the distance of eighteen miles. At length on my arrival at Robinson's house, OEATH OF MAJOR ANDRfe. 61 i myself^ liVashing- neral, he \ the resi- i married Dwn into especially leed, the lith, that nd, which 3, was the that any ; Colonel cause the ion would en desired nt and one to General iSe, which ly marched teen miles. on*s house, I was paraded before the front door, under a guard. General Washington soon afterwards came into a piazza, and looked sternly and with much indignation at me ; my counte- tenance was the index of my mind, and the beautiful lines of Horace occurred to me, " Si fractus et illahiter orbis impavidum feriuntque ruina;^'* &c. On his retiring, I was ordered into aback room, and two cen- tinels placed at the door. After as much time had elapsed as I sup- posed was thought necessary to give me rest from my march, I was conducted into a room, where were standing General Wash- ington in the centre, and on each side Ge- neral Knox and the Marquis de la Fayette, with Washington's two aids-de-camp, Co- lonels Harrison and Hamilton. '1 I Provoked at the usage I received, I £ S m 6Q NARRATIVE OF THE addressed General Washington, and de- manded to know for what cause I was brought before him in so ignominious a manner? . — The general answered sternly, that I stood before him charged with the blackest treason against the citizens of the United States; that he was authorized, from the evidence in his possession, and from the authority vested in him by Congress, to hang me immediately as a traitor, and that nothing could save me but a candid confession who in the army, or among the citizens at large, were my accom- plices in the horrid and nefarious de- signs I had meditated, for the last ten days past. I answered, that no part of my conduct could justify the charge, as General Arnold, if present, would prove ; that what I had done of a public nature was by the direction DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 63 of that general, and, if wrong, he was ame- nable ; not me, for acting agreeably to his orders. He immediately replied, " Sir. do you know that Arnold has fled, and that Mr. Anderson, whom you have piloted through our lines, proves to be Major John Andre, the Adjutant-General of the British armv, now our prisoner ? I expect him here, un ler a guard of 100 horse, to meet his fate as a spy, and, unless you confess who were your accomphces, I shall suspend you both on yonder tree," pointing to a tree before the door. — He then ordered the guards to take me away. In a short time I was remanded into the room, and urged to a confession of accom- plices, with General Washington's declara- tion, that the evidence he possessed of my s^ NARRATIVE OF THE being a party, was sufficient to take away my life. I answered, that as a citizen I did not conceive myself amenable to a military ju- risdiction ; that I well recollected when he came forward from Philadelphia to take the command of the army at the camp at Cam- bridge, the provincial congress of New York addressed him for the purpose of preserving the rights of citizenship ; his reply to them was, that " when he assumed the character of the soldier, he did not forget that of the citizen; and that he looked forward with pleasure to that auspicious period, when the rights of his country being secured, he might retire to the sweets of peaceful tran- quillity under the protection of the law." I told him I could not conceive that any simple recommendatory resolve of Congress, to which he alluded, could abrogate a fun^ *;i:r :!?l^ DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 55 damental clause in the constitution of the state, of which I was a member, and which had, for the benefit of the subject, esta- bhshed the right of trial hy jury in all cases whatever; that it was a violation of that right, which congress had assigned, amongst others, for their separation from Great Bri- tain, and which had given birth to the pre- sent war. Enraged with the force of this reasoning, with vehement indignation he ordered the guards to re-confine me. Some time afterwards, Colonel Hamilton came to me, and compassionately, as he said, recommended me to declare all I knew respecting the business of which I was ac- cused, observing that many were mistrusted, who, if they confessed, would be in a worse situation ; but us he supposed this was not my case I had now a chance to save my 56 NARRATIVE OF THE life, and for the sake of my family I ought to preserve it, with many more expressions to the same effect, &c. General Washington then came into the room> and in the most imperative tone ques- tioned Colonel Hamilton why he was so long speaking to me ? The colonel replied, " General, I know Smith has meant well during his agency in this transaction, for in all our public meetings at New York his general demeanour spoke a spirit of modera- tion, nor could he be persuaded to any other opinion than that this contest between Great Britain and her colonies would be compro- mised, as in the business of the stamp and other acts of which we complained to the British government, in our petition by Go- vernor Penn ; his object and the principles of his family have been uniformly intent to reconcile the sons of Great Britain to their brethren in America, and in all social meet- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 57 I ought >ressions into the ne ques- was so replied, ant well n, for in iTork his modera- iny other en Great conipro- :amp and id to the I by Go- mnciples intent to to their ial meet- ings his language was, " United we flourish, divided we fall" 1 must therefore declare my mind in saying that he ought to be discharged." General Washington then looked sternly around, and said in a gentle tone of voice, " Colonel Hamilton, I am not yet satisfied ; take him into the back room; we must know something more about this business." I was then conducted into the recess from whence I had been brought ; and I entered it greatly pgitated by the extraordinary usage I had met with. I was about to take some refreshment, when one of the centinels, posted at the door, vowed that if I touched any of the biscuits that were in the room, he would shoot me dead. The fact was, that the room was a kind of butlery, in which Mrs. Arnold had placed her stores, and I was in . „■*'; 68 NARRATIVE OF THE f\^'•'.\i i •JsrJii 4i 1 3l;i^'ii! t' '(If? ^ ! ''?':;■ 1' ,1 vl L'SI the act of taking a piece of the biscuit, not iiaving had any sustenance from 12 o'clock th'T preceding day. I therefore began, among other reflections, to think Mr. Wash- ington, or some of the family, or suite, might have some tenderness to the rights of nature, in the discharge of those offices which it requires; especially, as both at New York and Belmont (the name of my residence) the laws of hospitality were v/ell attended to on the part of my family and myself towards General Washington. I was particularly intimate with the general's son-in-law Colonel Custos, when he was at King's College, New York, for his educa- tion, a foundation liberally patronized by his present Majesty, whose gracious bene- volence was so handsomely attested by Sir James Jay, in his narrative of his mission to England, to collect donations towards the support of that infent institution for the cultivation of science. He made his voyage DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 59 uit, not o'clock began, . Wash- r suite, ights of offices both at e of my rere v/ell nily and jton. I generaPs le was at is educa- lized by us bene- id by Sir mission i^ards the for the is voyage in the year 1764, the discharge of which duty is faithfully detailed by Sir James in his reply to Barlow Trecoticke, then alder- man of London. Sir James is a brother of John Jay, who was the first American am- bassador sent to the court of Spain, a gen- tleman of brilliant abilities, descended from a French family, who left France upon the revocation of the edict of Nantz, in the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, for their ad- herence to the protestanc religion. He was one of the framers of the constitution of the state of New York, and was, with Doctor Frankhn, at Paris, highly instrum ntal, as an A'nerican ambassador, in forming the French alliance with America. Mr. Jay entertained a bitter enmity against priests of all descriptions, and at length obtained his desire to have it ordained, as a fundamental principle in that constitution, that all priests, of whatever denomination, having the care of souls, should be excluded from all secu-« '%JiM^ r'"i 60 NARRATIVE OF THE i'.H r,\:t n %i li,!! lor or temporal power whatever; and to guard against all influeiKe that the catholics might have in society, a*jiy in tbf cojih/^u- nion of the church of Kjme, whether as emigrants coming into thf»t state, or otl»er- wise, should, before they held offices of trust, renounce the influence of all prin x i, powers, and potentates, by oath of abjuration. This gentleman was educated at King*s College, so named in compHment to his pre- sent Majesty; he has since been in Eng- land as ambassador ; he signed the commer- cial treaty, by the special direction of Con- gress, in President Jefferson's adn^iinistra- tion ; and on his return to New York he was, by the mercantile influence, elected governor of that state, the people knowing his attachment to the first principles of Ame- rican opposition to the claims of Great Bri- tain, to bind them by Lord Chatham's bill, called the Declaratory Act, " in all cases DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 61 whatever." This Mr. John Jay was a son- in-law of William Livingston, the governor of New Jersey, and author of the elegant p.>em cal^d '* Philosophic Solitude ;" was one of the committee of Congress who, with Colonel Livingston, drew up the ad- dress to the people of Great Britain, de- claring their reasons for the revolt of Ame- rica from Great Britain, in addition to the Suffolk resolves, as they are termed, prepa- ratory to the declaration of independence adopted by the United States ii^ the year 1776. This commercial treaty not suiting the French party, after Mr. Jay's triennial go- vernment expired, agreeably to the period limited by the constitution, he was removed from the seat of Government, on that ac- count, by the demagoq;ues of the people, and superseded by Governor George CUn- ton. Mr. Jay, disgusted with this treatment. 62 NARRATIVE OF THE .f 'i I • m has been heard to exclaim, as General Washington did, '* a republican is an UNGRATEFUL GOVERNMENT." BuonapartC thought so too, and hence all Europe are living witnesses, that tyranny, whenever it is let loose, will make gigantic strides. I made no reply to the centinel ; but re- mained nearly two hours in this confine- ment, when I heard the tramp of a number of horses near the place where I was con- fined, and, soon after, could clearly distin- guish the voice of the unfortunate Andre, and of General Washington and his suite, who soothed him with all the blandishments that his education and distinguished rank demanded ; he was courted with a smile in the face, when worse than a dagger was in- tended for his heart. I distinctly heard Co- lonel Hamilton say to a brother officer, who came out of the same room, that Major Andre was really an accomplished young DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 6'J man, and he was sorry for him, for the ge- neral was determined to ^i ing him. This expression affected me deeply, and reminded me of General Washington's declaration, that before the setting sun, on the arrival of Major Andre, both of us should be sus- pended ** on yonder tree." The justice of the measure, or the power of putting the threat into execution, did not for a moment give me any concern for my own personal safety. I knew he was enraged, nor had my replies to his questions been in any manner calculated to appease his anger. The sun was nearly down, and I listened attentively to hear my fate announced ; but all business seemed to be conducted in whispers. In the course of my exa- mination by General Washington, in an- swer to his question, " Whether I had any written correspondence with General Arnold ? I had answered in the affirmative, 64 NARRATIVE OF THE *,' M ■' and that his letters to me would prove the nature of my agency with him ; and I gave directions where to find the key of my desk, and the drawer where Major Andre's coat was deposited. Colonel Duer, of whom I shall speak hereafter, was a man in Washing- ton's confidence, and was entrusted to attend to the search of my papers. Nothing could be done until Duer's return; it was late in the day when he went, and he could not go and return, the distance of forty miles, in the space of time limited for my existence. I therefore reposed myself in confidence that I should have one night to collect my scat- tered thoughts ; and 1 resigned myself to the protection of Divine Providence. w It was nearly dark, when a very respect- able young gentleman entered the room, and politely desired me to accompany him. I was in hopes this was a prelude to my emancipation, and I requested the honour DEAtH OF MAJOR ANl)RE. C5 bf his name? he answered, " it is Wash- ington ;" I said, " I presume, Sir, you hold the rank of colonel ?" He told me he held no rank at all ; he then conducted me to the back part of Robinson's house, where there were two horses; desired me to mount one of them, and by his guidance, in a way I had never been, we soon reached the bank of the river opposite to West Point. Here I was delivered to the custody of a Captain Sheppard, of the New Jersey Continental Troops, and did not observe I had been guarded by a troop of horse until I was placed in the ferry boat, and saw them fol- low Mr. Washington up the mountain ; two boats followed us, composed of the guard. If I had had any inclination to throw myself overboard, I was so well guarded, tliat i am certain I should have been taken our, of the water ; for the main object of General Wash- ington in detaining and trying me, was to obtain the knowledge of General Arnold's confederates in the army, as well as in Con- F 66 AARKATIVE OF THE gresfl. In fact, this defection of Arnold had excited such a general suspicion, that no one dan' trust another; and nothing but execrations were heard from hut to hut. I landed on the West Point side of the river, and was conducted to a hut called the pro- vost guard-room, where I was delivered to the custody of an officer, whose name I do not recollect. It was now dark, and I was placed in a room in the hut without any light, and left to choose the softest board I could find for a bed. I now endeavoured to compose my mind, and attempted to sleep, when I was interrupted by the provost- martial, who entered with a pair of hand- cuffs ; he was accompanied by the Reverend John Mason, of the Scotch seceders* con- gregation at New York. The officer was proceeding to place these dehcate ruffles on my wrists, but was prevented by Mr. Ma- son, who offered to become my surety ; and DEATH OF MAJOR ANt>RE 67 I pledged my honour that I would not en- deavour to effect my escape, nor accept the assistance of others for such a purpose. Whether this prelude of terror was intended to intimidate me, I cannot pretend to say ; it however led me to suppose that very seri- ous measures were meditated against my life. The reverend gentleman, after commise- rating my unhappy situation, and expressing his extreme sorrow to find a branch of a family that he so highly respected, placed in so dangerous a predicament, assured me that his utmost exertions should not be wanting to alleviate the miseries of my con- finement, and that if I would candidly de-^ clare to him how I came to be in such a si- tuation, his utmost endeavours should be made with the commander in chief to pro- cure my enlargement. He professed to have considerable interest with General Washing- ton, and said that he was sent by him to interrogate me on the subject, and that if I F 2 68 NARRATIVE OF THE i'.!,!#-i': {>■ il would confess who were General Arnold's accomplices, he would intercede for my parole, to enable me to return to my family under a guard. 1 iie soothing and consola- tory conduct and conversation of this vene- rable gentleman would have induced me to comply with his soHcitation, had I known Arnold's plot, but there was not a creature whom 1 could suspect to be in his confi- dence except Colonel William Duer, whom I saw at his house at Philadelphia in the au- tumn of 1T78, when on my journey to Charlestown, South Carolina ; and respect- ing whom I had heard Arnold speak in terms of the highest commendation. f,' ^' I mentioned to Mr. Mason the substanc<^ of what I had declared to General Washing- ton, and he answered that the general was much concerned to detain as a prisoner a per- son for whom he had a high esteem, and from whom he had received marks of distin- '",JS DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 69 guished civility and hospitality; that the commander in chief was the more enraged at the defection of General Arnold than he could have been at the treasonable conduct of any general officer under his command, from the uncommonly spirited exertions he had made in the cause of his country; and therefore he was led to suspect all around him: that from some of his papers left be* hind, he appeared to have been engaged in secret peculations with the commissioners, as well as with the low suttlers of the gar- rison; and one, whom the commander in chief strongly suspected, had absconded. He also mentioned a letter of my own among his papers, soHciting the restitution of a large quantity of Indian corn, and wished to know upon what principle I made the de- mand, and whether I had at any time com- mercial dealings or contracts with General Arnold? I gave him the strongest assur- ances to the contrary, adding, that I merely 70 NARRATIVE OF THE Bit :t!l" ;«■? s.M 'I'lii applied for a return of that quantity of corn and forage that ^as forcibly seized by the commissaries to supply the extreme exigen- cies of the army, then upon the point of disbanding, for want of provisions. They had taken from the tenants of my family estate, ^nd other poor inhabitants, all the means of subsistence possessed by their fa- milies, and had given them certificates for the amount of such seizures, but for which, when presented to the commissary or paymaster- general, they had refused payment; stating, that if they were to pay the losses, the paper money of the continent would not be of the least service to them, the depreciation then being at seventy paper dollars for one of sil- ver, while congress had made the standard at forty. These poor people, therefore, ap- plied to me to advise some remedy, and I applied to M^or-General Robert Howe, then commanding West Point, explaining the pe- culiar hardship attending the situation of ii \i DEATH OF MAJUR ANDRE. 71 these distressed families. The general, as a man of humanity, {Sympathized with them, and desired me to collect their certificates, make up the amount, and when the maga- zines at West Point were filled, which he expected would be soon, part, or the whole, of what was seized, should be restored, agree- ably to the quantum specified in their respec- tive certificates. General Howe's removal from the command at West Point, and Ge- neral Arnold being appointed his successor, were therefore the circumstances that induced me to renew my application to him on this subject. The distress of the inhabitants was actually so great, that in order to obtain bread for their families, they were compelled to barter their cattle, and r hatever property they could collect, as no other means re- mained to keep them from starvation: this state of misery induced many famihes to remove to a distance into the country, and suffer their farms to lay waste. They were. '!' '. ■I :i|, i*:., 72 NARRATIVE OF THE in consequence, charged with being disaf^ fected to the American cause, and upon the least suspicion that they repined at their hard lot, they were dragged before a board of committee-men, generally composed cf the most violent Whigs of the country, and speculators upon the distresses of their fel- low-citizens ; and upon the evidence of some who were interested in the spoil, they were condemned as Tories, and adherents to the British interest. On these grounds, their names were entered into a book called the black-roll, and upon any subsequent assess- ment to raise money for taxes, bounties for soldiers, or other public demand, not having the means to discharge the quota assessed, they were, by warrant from a justice, dis- trained of whatever property they possessed, to satisfy the rapacious demand ; and, in many instances, they we»*e left naked, with their children, in the deepest state of misery. !•:« DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 73 But to return from this digression, I gave my reverend visitor all the satisfaction he could obtain from me, with many thanks for his consolatory advice. He promised, on his departure, to send me some provi- sions, and a blanket to rest on, an article which had not been furnished me, and he cheered me by declaring, that if w hat 1 had stated to him in my transactions with Ge- neral Arnold was founded on truth, he could not conceive my case to be desperate. He then observed, there was no knowing, from the irritation of the public mind, vv^hat might be said against me; advised me to speak little, iind cautiously, to any person who might ask me questions ; and, above all, he concluded by telling me to place my trust in the Almighty, who had promised to be with them who called upon him in trouble. He then left me, saying that he should «ee General Washington, and inform me of the result the ensuing day; but [ never saw nor ', ^ <^ i\ '^ r O ,.v 1^ is. \ ^ , ^1^ <> i3^ f/ 80 NARRATIVE OF THE V' w for my security, I was not at a loss to con- jecture what had become of them. I fbund^ however, when I demanded those letters on my trial, that they were not produced ; the person who took them was probably in hopes of my speedy execution ; and, in that case, he would have remained unquestioned about them. I asked Colonel Duer, some time afterwards, for information respecting thd money and letters, when he assured me that he saw no papers of the description alluded to. The world, howevei, has not mentioned his name with extreme delicacy; and he certainly prevented my friends from saving much property which was afterwards lost. •, :■. >;■ ... ■[•:_.:•'. I was re-mounted again by the officer who attended me, and soon re-joined the troop which had gone forward with Major Andre. ryiiii^>'> ■' '•■il.v ■■«■»> iiV.r- We crossed the brook which the Marquis pEATH OF MAJOR ANDRlfi. 81 de Chastelleux speaks of, when the hoN rors possessed him on passing the house of Smith, where the liberties of America were bought and sold. " I cannot help remark-^ ing," says he, ** on making this observation, that Smith is now confim i against justice.'' How rashly do some people judge by the current tale. Being a Frenchman, he was totally unacquainted with the spirit of the great Alfred, who, in ordaining the right of trial by jury, established the principle, that every man isi presumed innocent until he is proved guilty. sii.i^f v^ '.■ir- •a- w At the distance of ten miles, we were al- lowed to halt, and dine at the house of Mr. John Coe. ii 'iii'^ >■*» .' ji-.'i !'f:?,-*J-^ V i.- . .:^ -Majoir Tdmadge, who conunanded, h^re displayed uncommon kindness. After $^* curing Major Andre with vigilant videtiL I had the honour of his company, and o Mi r •• I i'/i I «2 NARRATIVE OF THE received many respectful attentions from him. ■ . After dinner we proceeded, by a circui- tous route, to Tappan, or Orange Town, and arrived there about dusk. We were pa- raded before the church; many of my quon- dam friends flocked round me, and from them I received the bitterest invectives. After the arrangements were made by Wash- mgton, Major Andre was comfortably lodged in a house belonging to Mr. Mabee of that village, and every attention was paid him, suitable to his rank and character. For my own part I was ordered into the " xh, and refreshment was sent me fh>m W a^jnington's table. Judge Heron, of that place^ an old femily friend, furnished me with a blanket to lie on, and a provost guard was placed at the church door, while two centinela kept watch within the church, to prevent my escape, with strict orders to see after me . •,* i)EAtH OF MAJOR AKDRE. 89 closely. Under all this parade of terror, as many would have thought it, I felt myself in calm tranquillity, and a gleam of conso- lation glowed through my heart, from a per- fect conviction of having done no more than my duty. ' It will not be amiss here to turn back to General Arnold, and to account for the cap- ture of Major Andre. I left the latter at Pine's bridge, and had pointed out to him the road to the White Plains, whither his passport enabled him to go, or lower if he thought proper, he being on public busi- ness, as was mentioned in his pass ; but he thought the road by the way of Dobbs' ferry, having the river as his guide, would be much the nearest route, and, having a good horse, he boldly ventured to take that road; but he had not proceeded more than six miles, when he was stopped by three of the New York militia, John Paulding, David Williams, ■t'\ I 64 MARRATIYC OF THE ( ^ and Isaac Van Vert, who, with others, were on a scouting party, between tfaie out- poets of the two armies. These men stepped Major Andre at a place near Tarry Town, and seized his horse by the bridle in a narrow part of the road. Andre, instead of imme* diately producing his pass, asked where they belonged to^ They answered, *^ to below." Not suspecting deception, he replied, *' So dolt" AND DECLARING HIMSELF A BRI«- TISH OFFICER, INTREATED THAT mison, a continental officer, who had the command of about nine hundred men, mostly miHtia. When Major Andre was brought before him, he passed under the name of Anderson, choosing to hazard the greatest danger rather than let any discoveiy be made which could involve Arnold, before he had time to provide for his safety. With this view, to effect Arnold's escape, he re- quested that a Hne might be written to him, to acquaint him with Anderson*s detention, which Jamison granted. The papeis which d6 NARRATIVE OF THE were found in the msjor's pocket-book, were in Arnold's hand-writing, and contained ex- act returns of the state of the forces, ord- nance, and defences, at West Point and its dependencies, with the artillery orders, critical remarks on the works, an estimate of the number of men that were ordinarily on duty to defend them, and a copy of a state of affairs that had been laid before a council of war, by the commander in chief, on the 6th of the month. These papers were enclosed in a packet to General Wash- ington, accompanied with a letter from Ma- ^or Andre, avowing himself to be the adju- tant-general of the British army, and was forwarded by Jamison. Washington, at that time, was upon his return from Hart- ford, from his conference with Count Ro- chambeau, and the messenger missed him by taking a different road from that on which the general had gone. Through this accident, and the man being obliged to make DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 87 a circuit, the letter to Arnold, informing him of Anderson*s capture, reached him a short time before Washington's packet ar- rived at Robinson's house. Upon the re- ceipt of it, Arnold seized the messenger's horse, and instantly proceeded down a pre- cipice, almost perpendicular, to the river, where boats were always ready to pass to and from West Point ; he sprang into one, and directed the hands to row him down the river, and make for the Vulture ; but he had scarcely passed Stony and Verplank's Point, when Colonel Hamilton arrived at the latter, with orders to stop him ; for by the time Washington reached the house, the packet from Jamison had arrived. Major Andre had been three days in custody before Ar- nold's design was known in camp. Had it succeeded, the consequence would have been the termination of the war ; for on the lo«8 of West Point, the troops under Washington would have beep exposed, with ••! • y 8ft NARRATIVE OF THE 0' * the remainder of his ariAy, to the united attack of the royal forces by land and water, and general ruin to the American cause must have been the result, as Washington would have been taken with the garrison, a circumstance which appears from his letter to a friend on that occasion, couched in the following terms : — ** How far Arnold meant to involve me in the catastrophe of this place, does not appear by any indubitable evidence^ and I am rather inclined to think he did not wish to hazard the more important object, by attempting to combine two events, the lesser of which might have marred the greater." He goes on to say, " a combina- tion of extraordinary circumstances, an un- account'^ble depravation of mind in a man of the first abilities, and the virtue of three tnilitia-men, threw the adjutant-general of the British forces (with full proof of Arnold's intention) into our hands; and but for the egregious folly, or the bewildered condep^ DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. «9 tioD, of Lieutenant-Colonel Jamison, who seemed lost in astonishment, and not to have known what he was doing, I should have gotten Arnold." ' * i But I must return to the situation of Major Andre. On the 25th of September General Washington appointed a board of fourteen general officers, (amongst whom was the Marquis de la Fayette and Baron De Stuben,) with the assistance of the judge- advocate, Gene^l John Lawrence, of whom I have before spokien, to examine into,, and to report Major Andrews case, to form some judgment in what light he was to be con- sidered, and to what punishment, he 3vas hable. ;;5 Major Andre, nobly disdaining to shield himself under any evasive subterfuge, and solely anicious to place his character in the fairest point of view, so as to prevejit its I 90 NARRATTVK OF THE being discoloured by present or future cir- cumstances, voluntarily declared more than was required, and did not palliate any thing relating to himself; while with the most guarded caution, and the most scrupulous nicety and circumspection, he concealed whatever might criminate others. When indirectly questioned respecting myself, he generously answered, that he would fully declare his sentiments, as they would have more weight, from his own peculiar situation. The candour and magnanimity of his con- duct, united to the dignity of his deport•^ ment, while it struck his enemies with ad- miration, inspired an affecting tenderness for his situation throughout the American army. '■ On the S9th of September, the board of general officers met, when a number of ques- tions were proposed to him: the judge-ad- vocate, who was by birth an Englishman, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. f)l and a gentleman of the greatest sensibility, was agitated with the tenderest emotion towards him, requested him not to hasten his replies to the interrogatories, nor to suf- fer his feelings to he embarrassed from the peculiarity of his situation ; and if the ques- tions appeared to him to be worded with am- biguity, to demand a fair explanation of them, which should be granted. And here, before I proceed, I beg leave to mention, upon good authority, that it had been hinted to Major Andre by some of the officers who guarded him, or by some of Genertil Wash- ington's suite, that if he was demanded by Sir Henry Chnton in exchange, it was Ge- neral Washington's determination to relin- quish his prisoner. When Major Andre, on his capture, obtained leave to write to General Washington, he strongly urged that he could not by any means be considered as a spy ; these sentiments he maintained when brought to General Washington at Robert- 92 NARRATIVE OF THE d) i: iilH. 1 ■; ' m I son's house. From the conversation which took place between Washington, the Mar- quis de la Fayette, and Major Andre, which I could plainly hear in the room wherein I was confined, Major Andre urged, that he came on shore under the sanction o^* - pass- port or flag of truce, transmitted to him by General Arnold, who was, at the time of granting it, a major-general in the American army, and, of course, had sufficient autho- rity so to do, and " I clearly recollect the flag was sent to Colonel Beverly Robinson, Mr. John Anderson, or any other person they might authorize to return with me." As much dispute had arisen at the time in both the Royal and American armies, on the justice and propriety of executing a number of persons, whether they were as couriers, sanctioned by flags of truce, or came under the description of spies, it was generally conceived by the American army that the institution of this board of general DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 93 ■m I u officers was for the purpose of fixing some precise points to discriminate these charac- ters, rather than seriously to try the major. No precise charge was exhibited against him ; the intention of the board, it was sup- posed, would be governed by the interroga- tories before-4nentioned and the answers to them, in the decision of the major's case. Baron De Stuben, who was one of the board, opposed most of the general officers, in their opinion that Major Andre ought to be considered as a spy, upon the principle, agreeably to the law of nations, as esta- blished by Grotius and Puffendorf, who, as well as more modem authors on the sub- ject, declare, that an enemy, having once entered the lines of an enemy, or even the fortress of an enemy, or his garrison, under the sanction of a flag, the commanding offi- cer of that garrison or fortress being at the time authorized to grant such flag, his personal safety becomes guaranteed from 94 NARRATIVE OF THE 'i violation, the moment a treaty is entered into for the delivery of the garrison, whe- ther the surrender of the garrison was to be by treachery or otherwise. From these premises the conclusion is clear, that Major Andre came out under every fair and justifiable sanction, and un- questionably ought to have been returned upon the demand of Sir Henry CUnton, through the very humane interference of Lieutenant-General James Robertson, pur- posely appointed to solicit the release of the adjutant-general, who was accompanied to Dobbs' ferry by the governor of New York, by Lieutenant-Governor Elliott, and Chief Justice William Smith; that by their uniting the mihtary and civil pc .vers, as both civil and miUtary characters were at that period prisoners of war on both sides, any impedi- ment to an exchange might be the more rea- dily removed, and the horrors of war, as DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 93 much as possible, alleviated by a generous system of reciprocation. Such a system would have proved beneficial to the unhappy prisoners on either side, who were at that period deprived of th6se necessaries and con- solations most dear to man. What I men- tion as the then sentiments of the amiable, virtuous, and humane Baron De Stuben, were certain declarations which he made in company, when I was present, since the war, and deplored his having been over- ruled by a majority of the board, so contrary to his feelings of humanity, and sentiments of justice. Andre was fascinated by the alluring as- surances which prefaced the judge-advo- cate's address to him, as well as by the declarations given by the officers, servants, and other attendants of General Washington ; but he was no less confident from the firm g^round on which he stood, he being invitedon IM .ill. *', , ■hi 96 NARRATIVE OF THE shore by General Arnold, who ha^ the same power, in his own separate command, to ^ve him that invitation, agreeably to the resolve of Congress, as General Washington him- self; for surely no man had served his coun- try, not even Washington, with more intre- pidity, zeal, and fidelity ; nor had he gained more honourable applause, either in the army of the United States, or among the citizens at large. It may be said, that the business was of a traitorous nature, and of which Major Andre was well informed : but if we allow this to be the fact, it does not contra- vene the general system, " that stratagems are justifiable in war.*' If this were a crime, the criminality rested on the officer who made the defection, not on the gallant ma- jor who, in full uniform, in discharge of the duty due to his king and country, boldly went out to receive the terms and conditions of a retuining rebel to the allegiance of his sovereign ; and in which return he was ac- I DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 97 ore intre* lie gained I the army e citizens I business of which but if we ot contra- itraUgems a crime, icer who ilant ma- irg€of the , boldly londitions iCe of his [e was ac- tuated by a sense of his former infamy, when injured by those who had refused justice to his claims, for faithful service, in their be- half, 'which had procured him nothing but broken limbs,and a debilitated constitution. Here we see Major Andre, in the dis- charge of his duty, acting in obedience to his sovereign's proclamation, and the injunc- tions by his majesty's commissioners of 1778, engaged for pacification, namely, those amiable characters the Earl of Car- lisle, Governor Johnston, and the bene- volent and highly informed Lord Auck- land, late president of the Board of Trade and Plantations. But the Marquis De Chastelleux, while he pays many com- pliments to the adjutant-general, in his Tra- vels in 1780, 1781, 1782, and 1783, stiles him the imprudent Andre : on which I will only remark, that if the marquis was horror- stricken when passing over a small brook H 98 NARRATIVE OF THE ^1 m near to, and after leaving my house in the rear, plundered, forlorn, and destitute, by that devastating spirit that has depopulated half his own country, and decapitated the sovereign he then served, it would be curi- ous to know whether he thought he was pru- dent, to leave his own country, when in the service of his king, and enrol himself in the ranks of a faction, whose principles were more demoniac than those of the murdering Robespierre, or the insulting Corsican; and more sanguinary than Cromwell's. Major Andre, influenced by those sternly noble principles, which animate the breast of every virtuous freeman, thought no sacri- fice dearly bought that could rescue two countries, so blended by law, similarity of manner, habit, consanguinity, and religion, froQi the insidious rapacity of the Gallic yoke. The board of general officers having as< \h DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 99 in the te, by julated ted the ae curi- vas pru' sn in the af in the les were mrdering Corsican ; omweirs. se sternly the breast t no sacri- 38cue two nilarity of id religion, [he GaUic , having as- sembled, in apparently solemn sanctity, by reiteration of the same question in different words and modifications of language, at length extracted from the defenceless, friend- less x\ndre something like a declaration that he could not return on board the Vulture under the sanction of the flag that had brought him on shore, from whence they inferred, he did not conceive himself under the protection of that flag after he was once landed within the American lines; nor in- deed could he, from the reasons already stated, namely, the change of dress, which he declared, in his letter to Sir Henry Clin- ton, was imposed upon him, as well as the mode of return. He generously for* bore to assign to them the reasons which had induced General Arnold, and which Arnold had mentioned to him, to prefer returning him by land to New York, and also lest, by saying too much, he might criminate others, for whose preser- H S 100 NARRATIVE OF THE .f'ly P'h M ■ -1 vation he appeared more solicitous than for himself. No witnesses were adduced, nor could any be brought who had the slightest knowledge of the secret part of this transac- tion ; of course, none were called ; and the board of general officers proceeded, after making a statement of some facts, to wit, that he had quitted his uniform which he had worn under his surtout, for a coat given to me in exchange for one of my own, a crim- son broad cloth, vellum button holed, and bound with Prussian binding ; that he was furnished with a horse, and, under the as- sumed name of John Anderson, with a pass- port from General Arnold, was proceeding towards New York, when he was i^topped by John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van Vert, three of the New York militia, who, with others, were scouting between the out-posts of the two armies ; from which facts the board of general officers proceeded to declare, " That Major John DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 101 Andre, adjutant-general of the British army, ought to he considered cu a spy from the enemy, and that, agreeably to the law and usage of nations, it is their opinion he ought to suffer death. This adjudication was passed on the 25th of September ; Major Andre was captured on the 23d ; General Arnold made his escape on the 25th ; and on the 26th, Sir Henry Clinton wrote to General Washington to reclaim Major Andre. On the 30th, Ge- neral Washington answered General Clin- ton ; in his letter he says — " that though Major Andre was under such circumstances as would have justified the most summary proceeding against him, he had referred his case to the examination and decision of a board of general officers, whose report, founded on his free and voluntary confession of his letters, was inclosed." ; 102 NARRATIVE OF THE m Here I must remark, that the sentence of the board of general officers was by no means unanimous, and the letter from Ma- jor Andre, assigning his reasons, tchy he ought not to have been considered as a spy, was not transmitted by General Washington. I refer to the letter that the major wrote when under the custody of Colonel Jamison, which placed Major Andre's character and abilities in the most amiable point of view. This letter from General Washington was immediately answered by another from Sir Henry Clinton, containing a proposition to send General Robertson, with the gentle^ men I mentioned, and requested Washing- ton safely to conduct them to meet himself, or whomsoever he should appoint, to give him a statement of facts, and to explain Sir Henry's sentiments on the subject. " He urged it as a point of the highest concern to DEATH OFMAJOR ANDRE. 103 humanity, that General Washington should fully understand the whole state of the busi- ness, before he proceeded to carry the judg- ment of the board into execution." General Greene, who had presided at this board, was appointed to meet General Ro- bertson. He had discovered the severest malignity against Major Andre from the first hour of his capture, and, in conjunction with the Marquis de la Fayette, was deter- mined to take his life; while La Fayette publicly declared, that General Washington himself deserved the halter, if he did not apply it to the unfortunate Andre. Greene met General Robertson at Dobbs's ferry ; the other two gentlemen before-mentioned were not permitted to come on shore ; for the fact was, that their superior abilities, virtue, and integrity of character, were well known, and equally dreaded. It will not be amiss here to take some notice of the 104 NARRATIVE OF TH£ S i character, and the principles which assur- edly influenced the conduct of General Greene, though I am ready to give him all the advantage of *^ de mortuis nil nisi bonum^^' which applies here as well to Major Andre as himself, and also to many others in this tragical drama, who now, in the energetic language of Dr. Young, are " with the years beyond the flood." If* d Yet this general rule of tenderness to the frailties of human nature, adopted by philan- thropists, if attended to, respects the dead, while it injures the living, by preventing posterity from having the light of biogra- phical experience ; for surely it is wisdom to regulate life by the sage conduct of those whose career in the various parts of it has been stamped witli honourable apnJbrisv , or has been degraded by merited Uiiumy. It was a fixed system with General Washing- ton " to take the passions of men as nature DEATH OF MAJOR ^NDRE. 105 ch assur- General ^e him all n bonum,** ijor Andre lers in this ; energetic ;h the years ness to the 1 by philan- 8 the dead, preventing of biogra- wisdom to :t of those Its of it has Miuiiiy. It Washing- as nature liad given them, and thos^ principles ah » guide, which are generally the rule of ac- tion." General Greene was of the quaker per-uasioa, although a military man ; a lu- t'M'ioiis contradiction; for that sect are well 1 >wn to possess an aversion to arms; yet General Greene took to the field, and m ne of the American officers displayed a more martial spirit than himself, except Ge- neral Arnold. General Greene, from the first, viewed Arnold's rapid advancement and mihtary achievements with envy, and I have witnessed with no small concern, when in company with them both, that " splene- tic cordiality, ^^ as Sterne expresses the idea, which is the eternal companion of compe- titors, ambitious for renown. It was well known that General Greene's mind, previous to engaging in the service of his countr)', was distempered by one of the most painful domestic calamities, that could 106 NARRATIVE OF THE agonise the soul of a man of spirit. This ostensible misery had followed him to the camp at Orange Town; too many flagrant proofs had blunted the edge of those fine feelings known only to sympathetic spirits, drawn irresistibly by the silken ties of disin- terested affection; approved by reason, ce- mented by love; sanctioned by virtue, and applauded by angels: General Greene, in short, was chagrined by the comparative happiness which his competitor for fame en- joyed, iji obtaining the amiable Miss Ship- pen, of Philadelphia, of which city she was the ornament and pride. By every insinuating address he courted the favour of General Washington, who ap- pointed him to the presidency of this board of general officers, in preference to General Robert Howe, a gentleman and a philan- thropist, who was not calculated for con- niving at the murdering decree. Indeed, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 107 the defection of General Arnold was so great a surprise, that General Washington knew not in whom to confide, each of his officers being envious of the other, and sus- picions engendered by former jealousies spread abroad, while Pandora's poisonous box was opened for their reception: General Greene availed himself of every malignant, deadly mischief flowing from it, and im- proved the occasion to manifest his fatal de- terminations. This- general was therefore selected and appointed for the interview with General Robertson; who, by the clearest reasoning, demonstrated that Major Andre did not come under the character or descrip- tion of a spy, and proposed that General Knyphausen, of the auxiliary troops, in the service of his Britannic Majesty, on the one part, and General Count Rochambeau, as not so immediately interested, should be consulted, and their opinions taken on a subject so interesting to the cause of huma- i'l ! 4*5 ll I i yii,'"- i .jml ih !f*' Miry 108 NARRATIVE OF THE nity. General Robertson, indeed, made use of every argument to induce a re-consi- deration of Major Andre's case ; but the proposed reference was not acceded to by G eneral Washington. He quoted and proved many instances of Sir Henry CUnton's mer- ciful inchnation of mind, in cases where, upon similar applications. Sir Henry had softened the rigorous severities of war; and, in the most impressive language, urged the necessity of adopting a reciprocal disposition of amity, as most compatible with the ge- nuine spirit of real bravery; offering, on the discharge of Major Andre, to engage that any person whatever, in the custody of the opposite party, should be immediately restored to his liberty; adding, that Sir Henry Clinton entertained a high esteem for Major Andre, and wished an interchange of such civilities, as would lay himself un- der the most permanent obligations ; in short, every persuasion that could be urged, was DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 109 resorted to by General Robertson, that could excite the commiseration of any other man but General Greene, who even refused to deliver the purport of General Robertson's proposal of vesting the decision as recited, or of mentioning any of the arguments ad- duced by Robertson to General Washington. Such unfeeling apathy might, however, have been anticipated by those who knew the unfeeling principles by which that general was influenced. No gentleman, perhaps, possessed the powers of persuasion in a more eminent de- gree than Lieutenant-General Robertson. He was a Scotchman, a native of Fifeshire ; and with the firm integrity of his country- men, he united the experience of a veteran, in policy and military knowledge. His adroit and perspicuous answers, when ex- amined before the House of Commons^ were at once a display of his abilities as a no NARRATIVE OF TH£ lU t mi >'i^ ti soldier, and of his inflexible loyalty as a Briton. The wisdom of government was never more demonstrated than in his appoint^ ment to the chief civil authority as gover- nor of New York, that city having been Lieutenant-General Robertson's residence since the pacification of 1760. He was well known and equally beloved by the in- habitants of the province ; and when colonel of his majesty's l6th regiment of foot, dur- ing the troubles that agitated the minds of the inhabitants, in consequence of their dis- contents, arising from the stamp and other acts of parliament, which were deemed ob- noxious, he invariably was the mediator between the civil and military powers. Hence, by his wisdom and discreet deport- ment, a spirit of harmony was cultivated and maintained ; and there never was a go- vernor appointed by the crown, who more fully possessed the hearts of the people, ex- cept Governor Clinton, the father of Sir DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 111 Henry Clinton, the commander in chief, who was the idol of the province. This fact is mentioned in Chief Justice Smithes His- tory of New York. Lieutenant-General Robertson, with such abilities, of course, became the most eligible person for a mission of so humane and political a nature, uniting in his person the civil and military charac- ters, which well qualified him to effect the exchange in the proposal solicited by Sir Henry Clinton. By the long residence of General Robert- son in New York, he was well acquainted with the canting disposition and character of his Eastern neighbours, who, having inces- santly the sound of religion on the tongue, as a mask more effectually to deceive and surprise the unwary, are never really known until deception discovers their hypo- crisy. " " m ii fi J" Hi K*il! I'lii! lis NARRATIVE OF THE Upon General Robertson's departure from General Greene, he pathetically urged the re-consideration of the subject of their in- terview. But Greene being determined not to alter the decision of the board of general officers, of which he was president, did not relate to Washington the particulars of the interview, which, in the then state of Ge- neral Washington's mind, would have saved the life of Major Andre, or, at least, would have mitigated the punishment. For this apathetic and inhuman silence. Congress effectually remunerated Greene, by giving him a valuable plantation, in the state of Georgia, the meed of his indefatigable ser- vices, but which was, ultimately, his bane, and the cause of his premature death; for depending too much upon his hardy consti- tution, contrary to the advice of his friends, he would, to accomplish the duties, and acquire the simple character oi a planter, DEATH OF MAJOR ANORfi. U3 ure from rged the their in- lined not f general , did not rs of the te of Ge- ave saved 5t, would For this Congress by giving e state of igable ser- hisbane, death; for •dy coiisti- lis friends, uties, and a planter, venture out, and subject himself to the meridian blaze of the sun, in order to super- intend his negro labourers : in one of these perambulations he received the " coup de so- iiel" or, stroke of the sun, as the French West Indians term the effects which Euro- peans feel from too great an exertion, while subjected to the solar heat ; and fella victim to his own obstinacy, unrelented by some, and deplored by others ; for political attach- ments bore their preponderance in that un- happy, divided, and distracted country, till the last hour of the unfortunate war ; and even now they are far, very far, from ex- tinction. In the minds of some this general still lives, and is considered as the deputy* saviour of his country. Hosanna one hour, and crucify the next, was the prevailing prin- ciple atnong the Americans ! '' Sic transit gloria mundi/ " The malignity, virulence, and savage bar- I 114 NARRATIVE OF THE f ' ^. s* ■■ I' ]m •■.te "■l'l,T barity that, at the above-mentioned time, pervaded all ranks, classes, and denomina- tions, whether in the civil or military line, cannot be delineated in any terms but such as must agonise the heart of sensibility, and cause a blush on the cheek of civilised hu. manity ; and the baneful effects of which were not eradicated so late as the year 1801. When, at a place called Ninety Six, and at Augusta, in Georgia, in a large company, among the gentry of the country, where, it would be supposed, humanity would pre- vail, were it only through decency, and with a view to example, I heard them boast of having committed barbarities shocking to human nature. One instance was that of an old, grey-headed justice of the peace, who solemnly declared he had, during the war, shot, at different actions, and in cold blood, ninety-nine Tories, and felt unhappy he had not accomplished the complete hundred! Shocked at the ferocity of this sanguinary ]>EA^TH OF MAJOR ANDRE. lU I time, omina- ry line, at such ty, and ised hu- »f which jar 1801. [, and at :ompany, j^ where, ould pre- ncy, and [lem boast locking to that of an eace, who g the war, cold blood, ppy he had hundred I sanguinary 1 i J ■4 ■A monster, I pressed my friend and fellow-tra- veller to make a precipitate departure, al- though we had rode a great distance that day, and were both fatigued and hungry; he was of my opinion, and we therefore left the cannibal-justice to try some causes which, he said, would afford some sport, being only a few bastardies, rapes, and simi- lar trifles, as he termed them ; indeed, be- fore we got off, he went to the full firuition of his mirth, the bottle and the bible, inse- parable companions in that country, during their summary modes of adjudication ! We were, in fact, happy in escaping from the sight and association of beings abhorrent to human nature; and hastened towards Augusta, in Georgia. I cannot pass over a circumstance that happened at this latter place, which excited some merriment, as a contrast to the anecdote I have just re- lated. I 2 \i!' 116 NARRATIVE OF IHE hh S A Connecticut merchant is the denomi- nation applied individually to a set of people who, in the autumnal months, leave Con- necticut river, and, in small sloops, schoo- ners, or shallops, run down the continent, laden with onions, apples, cyder, potatoes, and sometimes New England rum and pork, having little more nautical skill than that ci' ascertaining the direction of the coast, keep- ing within soundings, and carefully avoiding the stream, which constantly runs from the Gulph of Mexico to the Bank** of New- foundland. One of these merchants had reached Savannah, the capital of Georgia, and finding the market glutted with what he called his corn customers, honest Na- than ♦ was advised to try his market at Au- * I hope the reader will not uuspect that I mean by this anecdote any reflections on the character of the (juakers — far from it. In this country, in particular, they are an ornament to their profession ; and, per- haps, the most consistent people, a» a body, that America can boast of. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 117 gusta, in Georgia, then the seat of govern- ment, under the administration of Governor Tellfair. The merchant's name was Nathan Putnam, a near relation of the celebrated General Putnam, who, with Doctor War- ren, of Boston, so vigorously defended Bun- ker's Hill, in 1775, against the British troops, in the Massachuset government. Merchant Putnam had applied to a Mr. Longstreet, a native of Prince Town, New Jersey, to pur- chase his cargo of combustibles, — a bargain was struck; but the merchant not having dehvered the combustibles within the time limited by the contract, a dispute arose; when Longstreet, who hated the New Eng- land people, whom he termed Yankies, was determined to seize the goods, as forfeited by the contract, and apply them to his own use ; he therefore armed a party to effect his purpose, who, having drunk very freely of the hard, strong cider, which is called wring-jaw-cider, from its being boiled down 1^ 118 NARRATIVE OF THE III I r !!!• pp I and distilled, they proceeded to seize mer* chant Putnam ; and the more effectually to gain their point, some of them declared he was the identical Benedict Arnold, who had confederated to give up West Point to the British, and had come there in disguise. It being in the twilight, and the merchant re- sembling in size and appearance the general alluded to, the report was instantly beheved, and the poor merchant being seized, in vain denied the charge, and appealed to many persons as to the identity of his person. They were actually proceeding to tar and roll him in a bed of feathers, and from thence to throw him into the Savannah * river, when he was fortunately known by his voice to a Colonel Dorsey, and with much difficulty recovered by the colonel, who had been at his father's house during the war, when in the continental service; while, being a quaker, he merely affirmed he was ^not the real Benedict Arnold, having served DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 119 under that general in his march from the camp at Camhridge to the walls of Quebec. The interference of Colonel Dorsey, how- ever, would have been of no avail, had he not been highly and deservedly respected, as a gentleman of liberality, courage, and influence. Hearing the tumultuous uproar, I was proceeding to enquire into the cause, when I was met by Colonel Dorsey, with whom I became acquainted in England soon after the American war, and who, knowing my precarious situation, was coming for- ward, from political reasons, to warn me of my danger; on our meeting, he strongly urged my departure, lest any suspicion should arise, which might prove injurious to my personal safety. Being acquainted with the governor's lady, whom I knew in 1774-, and having brought letters of recommendation to the governor, from his friends in Charleston, with whom ^'1 "'.i. w fhi". 120 NARRATIVE OF THE I had frequently dined in company with the people of the first distinction in the country; the legislature then sitting, and it being also the sitting of the supreme court of judica- ture for the state, accompanied with the usual commission of oyer and terminer, I was not intimidated by the gentlemen of the mobility ; in feet, I wished to hear the debates, and the new mode of adminis- tering justice. It was, however, a friendly caution on the part of Colonel Dorsey, and which I found, on adherence to it, of great utility to me, in travelling through the continent in general; and in this in- stance particularly, for the fracas just men- tioned had revived the malevolence of party ; and the whole history of General Arnold's defection from the American cause became again the subject of detail. I hive sat in public companies, have been on the road travelling, incognito, and heard myself al- most as severely execrated as an accomr DEATH OP MAJOR ANDRE. 121 pllce with General Arnold, and as much threatened, as he himself could possibly be, if he were to fail into their hands. Such incidents forcibly brought to my remem- brance an expression of General Washing- ton to my friend Colonel Hay, whwn I was under my trial for life, viz. " that we may as well hang him as not, for he can never be happy if acquitted." It is somewhat re- markable, that he never published the sen- tence of the court-martial which, for six weeks, was employed in my trial, thereby intending to fix a stigma that, he conceived, would embitter my future life. I am confi- dent that he anxiously meditated my de- struction ; but, being favoured by the law, and the hand of Divine Providence, which sustained me under my severe afflictions, I was enabled to offer a defence, that baffled every attempt to cause me to suffer the tra- gical fate of the lamented Andre: — Yet Washington would have attempted my de- 'i ^1 J ,m,' |! 122 NARRATIVE OF THE struction, had he not been dissuaded by General Greene, on account of the insuffici- ency of the evidence, and the influence of his lady, (of whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter,) as well as from a special regard which General Greene bore towards a favourite nephew, Lieutenant-Colonel William Livingston, of Colonel Webb's regiment of Continentals, who fought under his command at Rhode Island, in the year 1779; he therefore affectionately interested himself in my behalf. The very handsome manner in which General Greene spoke of this young and gallant officer, as well as of Colon j1 Henry B. Livingston, who were both in this action, did him great honour ; his eulogium being strictly true, • and much less than the objects of it, from all circum- stances, deserved. From the cool and intrepid conduct of General Greene at Rhode Island, at the pe- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 125 aded by insuffici- luence of occasion a special e towards t-Colonel I Webb's ght under I the year interested handsome spoke of well as of ho were it honour ; land much ill circum- londuct of I at the pe- riod above-mentioned, and the combinations and intrigues of Generals Gates, Miflin, and others, against General Washington, he became more closely attached to General Greene than any officer under his command, and was supposed instrumental in the dis- graceful act of superseding General Gates, by the appointment of General Greene to the command of the American southern army ; and from that period they seemed to be actuated by one common interest, which clearly accounts for that unison of design, which was evident in the conduct of the commander in chief and the president of the board instituted by the former, for'^the fate of the unfortunate adjutant-general. When General Robertson left General Greene at Dobbs's ferry, and returned to the gentlemen who accompanied him in the flag of truce, he was not without hopes that some remaining principle of humanity, or i;«''Wj 11 mi' !«' sMii|«r ^ 4 I'r 'i' 124 NARRATIVE OF THE spark of tenderness, which General Greene had discovered, when the purport of the in- terview was related to the chieftain, might excite a spirit of clemency towards many that might otherwise fall victims to rigorous severity,* in the further prosecution of the war. But he was mistaken ; for as he came resolved to withstand all entreaties of huma- nity, so he was determined not to suggest to his principal any matter that might excite remorse in his mind, but, on the contrary, like another lago, festered the wound that he had opened. A furious letter from Ge- neral Arnold, replete with threats in case Major Andre should suffer under the sen- tence of the board of general officers, charging General Washington with being answerable for all the bloodshed consequent on that event, increased the flame. This * A large number of the citizens of South Carolina had virtually forfeited their lives at this time, and yet were spared by Sir Henry Clinton. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 125 Greene the in- might s many rigorous n of the he came )f huma- uggest to ht excite contrary, >und that from Ge- ts in case the sen- 1 officers, vith being consequent ime. This Duth Carolina time, and yet letter added fuel to the rancourous enmity he entertained against his ancient rival, and tended rather to precipitate the deplored event, or, at least, to make it the more in- evitable ; while General Robertson was cen- sured for, what was termed, the absurdity of presenting it. From the 25th of September, the day of the appointment of the board of officers by General Washington, to the 5th of October, was passed in the transmission of flags on this unhappy subject, during which time Major Andre calmly composed his mii^d with philosophic, but rather with Christian fortitude, preparing for whatever might be the event of the negociation, which he un- derstood was making in his behalf: but he was at length informed that the die was cast, and his destiny irretrievsd^le, conformably to the usage of war annexed to his sentence. He then wrote to his most worthy friend ^^■^^1 i U '-'Mi /i*-* IF 1 • '1 t §■ 126 NARRATIVE OP THt and patron, Sir Henry Clinton, in language; which no pen could surpass ; and also a let" terto General Washington, replete with all the dignified sentiment of a man of honour, and with all the pathos of a man of the finest feelings, earnestly requesting that he might die as a soldier, and not as a male- factor; to which, however, no reply was made. The following is the letter last aU ludedto: &•' m [Si " Tappan, Oct. 1, 1780* (( Sir, " Buoyed above the terror of death, by the consciousness of a life devoted to ho- nourable 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 DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 127 anguagef [so a let- with all honour, II of the r that he a malfe- eply was r last al- 1, 1780- induce your excellency, and a military tri- bunal, to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a man of honour. " Let me hope, Sir, that if aught in my character impresses you with esteem to- wards me, if aught in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of policy, and not of re- sentment, I shall experience the operation of these feelings in your breast, by being in- formed that I am not to die on a gibbet. " I have the honour to be, your excellency's most obedient, and most humble servant, JOHN ANDRE, Adjutant-General to the British Army." surely During all this period, from the time of our being conducted from West Point, the 26th of September, to the 30th, I was closely guarded in the church of Tappan, or 128 NARRATIVE OF THE Orange Town, and there were ncrt^ panting those who gave me intimations of the plans that were formed against the hfe of Major Andre, as well ad the engines that were at work against myself; and I shall ever retain, in grateful remembrance, the tender and sympathising consolations, which I received from a very young gentleman of the name of Edwards, from Massachuset*s-Bay govern-^ ment, who often commanded the guard, under whose care I was confined. The most virtuous and worthy of the aged inhabitants of the county of Orange did not fail to visit me on this occasion; and particularly the good Judge Cove, of Kakiat, Judge Heron, and Abraham Thew, Esq. a man who had served his country with the most unexam- pled zeal and fidelity, during the Canadian war, which terminated in the peace of 1763, and who, as a reward for his prowess and gallantry, was so highly complimented by the friend of my femily, the late Lord DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 129 anting ! plans Major vere at retain, ler and Bceived lameof govern- guard, he most Eibitants to visit arly the J Heron, yho had jnexam- IJanadian peace of i prowess limented ate Lord Jeffery Amherst, whose memory will hve in the annals of military virtue and honour. - •, >. -' '■■-■-■■ ---.■■ My turn was now to commence, and, on the day appointed for my trial, the judge- advocate, by order of General Washington, who was prosecutor, exhibited ten separate charges against me, so artfully drawn up, that the proof of one would necessarily involve, as by inference, some testimony to support the other. Aware of the snare which was laid for me, I requested that the charges might be consolidated into one general ac- cusation. Accordingly, on the ensuing day, when the court was convened, this request was granted ; and I was ordered to answer to the following charge, with the usual ceremonial : — I *' You stand charged with aiding and as- sisting Benedict Arnold, late a major-general in our service, in a combinatioa with tlie 130 NARRATIVE OF THE Mil enemy, for the purpose of taking, seizing, and killing such of the loyal citizens and soldiers of these United States, as were in garrison at West Point, and its depen- dencies." •- III In answer to this charge, I objected to the legality, Or propriety, of being tried by a military tribunal ; for, as a citizen, I con- ceived myself only amenable to the civil authority of the state, to which I belonged, which had established the right of trial by jury in the constitution recently adopted, determining the liberties of the subjects within the state, and had ordained " That the right of trial by jury, in all cases wherein it had been formerly used in the colony of New York, should be, and remain, inviolate for ever/* I was answered by the court,^ that I was tried by a resolve of congress, passed in the year 1777» authorizing the commander in chief of the army, to hear and bEATH OF MAJOR ANDllE. 131 izmg, B and ere ia iepen- :ted X6 :ried by , 1 con- tie civil elonged, trial by adopted, subjects I "That wherein icolony of inviolate he court, congress, rizing the hear and try by court-martial, any of the citizenp of the United States, who should harbour or secret any of the subjects or soldiers of the King of Great Britain, kpowing them to be such, or should be instrumental in convey- ing intelligence to the enemy, and, if found guilty, should be condemned and executed as a traitor, assassin, and spy. To this I objected, that the resolve of Congress just alluded to, was possibly passed anterior to the adoption of the several constitutions of the United States, when there were no legal establishments, and was mtroduced to sup- ply the want of civil jurisdictions in that early stage of the war ; and that I could not conceive how a mere resolve of con- gress could abrogate a fundamental article in any of the civil constitutions of the United States ; for, if so, it made the mili- tary paramount to the civil authority, and would establish, if the court were to proceed on my trials a precedent dangerous to the K 3 l;*,*l.^» 133 NARRATIVE OF tHlfi eventually the indignat.on of my fellow LnJn destroying one of the establ^^ principles of liberty helonglngto the suhec. and the violation of the right of tnal by :..^, one of the principal reasons ass.gned by ongress for their separation from Great Britain in the declaration of independenc, Lell as .llowing the military an extent rrpowermcompatible with a free govern- ment. The court, however, after having with- . time for consultation, over- drawn some time lor ,u,ed n.y objections, and proceed^ to - „i„e the evidence m support of the prose, cutor's charge. The first that were produced, were the Marquis de la Fayette. General Knox, a^d Collls Harrison and Hamilton; the p«- in of whose testimony was, my declan- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 13S xcite ellow- lished iibject, rial by isigned Great ndetice, extent govem- ng with- in, over- d to exa- he pTOser were the Cnox, and ; the pur- \y declara^ tion to General Hamilton, when brought before him at Robinson's house from Fish Kill. In giving their evidence separately, they each deviated from the other, although they were all present at the time of exami- nation before the court-martial. General Knox and Colonel Hamilton came, in testimony, more pointed to the exact truth of what I had declared, especially the latter, whose evidence was perfectly correct, by which was anticipated what must have been otherwise extracted in croag-examination ; yet Hamilton artfully threw in a chain of reasoning, tending to prove my being in full knowledge of General Arnold's intentions. Harrison's testimony was imperfect on the most material points, as he detailed those parts that militated against me in support of the charge, and excluded those that fa- voured my life ; for, in all these ca^es, a man's declaration should be taken connec- 134 NARRATIVE OF THE tively, and not be detached ; otherwise, by selecting some parts, and rejecting others, in support of a charge, it must be evident that the most innocent man may be made to ^contradict, and even to condemn himself. 'ii The Marquis de la Fayette was most widely different in his testimony from the rest of these gentlemen; he delivered his evidence with acrimonious severity, and malignant bitterness: he asserted as part of my declaration to General Washington mat- ters that I could not have mentioned ; and had my life, or that of a hundred others, depended on his credibility before an igno- rant court-martial, all would have been for- feited. ' ' I had paid particular attention to the tes- timony of General Knox and Colonel Ha- milton, in my notes taken on their evidence ; and in my cross-examination pf the marquis, |i^;a:fl ^•. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 135 I applied their answers and remarks to his recollection, which did not a little embarrass him. I could plainly perceive the court- martial were sensible that he was mistaken ; and I most sincerely hope he erred from ig- norance of the true import of the English language. >i . The avowed enmity which the marquis entertained against General Arnold, induced him to take vengeance on all who were sup- posed to be in the least degree connected with him, and there were so many presump- tive circumstances which favoured my being of that complexion, that they in some mea- sure account for his vindictiveness. Prie- vious to this event, we had been on good terms; but he left the court-martial much chagrined, and I understood from one of General Washington's domestics, who daily brought me provisions, and who was a con- fidential servant of the general's, kl^dt the 136 NARRATIVE OF THE marquis, on all Occasions, when my name was mentioned, expressed himself with great asperity. .. ' * - The next evidences that were produced, were Samuel and Joseph Colquhoun, the boatmen, who rowed me on board the Vul- ture; the three mihtia-men, who captured Major Andre; and the ferry-men, who con- veyed us from S»ony to Verplank's Point. The two boatmen corroborated the sub- i^ance of what I had declared to General Washington, on my first arrest, with a num- ber of other circumstances, which were of Httle or no consequence, excepting their acknowledging their total inabihty of return- ing Major Andre to the Vulture, after land- ing him at the Long Clove, for bis confer- ence with General Arnold, through the ex- cessive fatigue they had undergone already, and from the change of the tide. 1 will only DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 137 here remark, that I was aware of this im- practicability, when I left the Vulture, and had soUcited the addition of two hands from the captain, which were refused, but from what motives I cannot determine, unless for the reasons I have already suggested, that there appeared no concert of design betweein the military and naval departments; and yet it has V-^^ appeared that the Vulture was statior ' ; n the bay of Haverstraw pur- posely to promote the measures that were in agitation. •■ ' '■ ' '■ ' ■ ■'» i-.^ • ■ * • :'i-'.>:.. These two men delivered their evidence with a plainness, perspicuity, and firmness, that seemed to have much weight with the court-martial, who examined them with critical scrutiny. After the judge-advocate had finished the examination, they were the most material evidences that could be ad- duced. I will just mention the disgraceful means that were used to impeach the inte- m W 1 S38 NARRATIVE OF THE tillf. «'^.'t'- grity of the eldest Samuel Colquhoun, from wh^ch circumstance it will appear in what a precarious situation my life was placed. i There is now a person in this kingdom, who was informed by Samuel Colquhoun, that while I was on my trial, he was taken into a field by some of Gener^^ Washington's officers, who read to him a paper purporting to be a declaration of the means which I had adopted, and which if he would attest against me on the trial, he should hsve a purse of gold, which was then offered to him, and a promise of support for life ; — Colqu- houn answered, that although he was ii poor man, he could not swear fidsely for money, which he should do if he attested the paper; and, if made rich by such means, he added, that he should be miserable for life. The next evider.ee adduced was Colonel Hay, who accompanied me from his house DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 139 at Fish »Kill to Robinson's house. 'v\hen under the guard of Colonel Govion, the amount of which was, my declaration to him of the nature of my agency with Ge- neral Arnold. His testimony differed very little in substance from the declaration made to General Washington, as related by the four first witnesses, (xeneral Knox, &c. > The next evidences were the ferrymen, who proved that I had conducted Major Andre across the posts of Stony and Ver- plank's Point, and mentioned some desuU tory conversation that had passed, but which, at this period, can be of no conse- quence ; they, however, deposed, that there appeared to them an intimacy between M<*^ jor Andre and myself, that was of a very long Gt&nding. ' These evidences were followed l^ the three miUtia-men, who had stopped and If 140 NARRATIVE OF tHE i *'i captured Major Andre, and with them were produced the papers which, they said, were fu i in Major Andre's boot : the names of these men were Paulding, Van Vert, and Williams. - Upon their being individually desired to depose what they knew, or could declare concerning me, they each said they had never seen me before ; but upon its being suggested that my name was mentioned in some of the papers found upon Major An- dre, the papers were read, and were to the following purpose :•— Artillery Orders, Sept. 5, 1780., Estimate of the Force at West Point, . and its Dependencies, Sept. 1780. Estimate of Men. to defend the Works at West Point, &c. Return of Ordnance at West Point, Sept. 1780. * . • . Remarks on the Works at West Point, i DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. Ul Copy of a State of Matters, laid before a Council of War, by his Excellency Ge- neral Washington, held the 6th of Sept. 1780. A letter, signed John Anderson, date^ the 7tii of September, 1780, to Colonel Sheldon, was also laid before the court- martial, which, the judge-advocate said, had been shewn to Major And** who ac- knowledged to have written it, and which was as follows : — , ^'New York, Sept. 1, 1780. "Sir, *' I am told my name is made known to you, and that I may hope your indulgence in permitting me to meet a friend near our posts, I will endeavo;>r to obtain permis- sion to go out with a flag, which is to be sent to Dobbs*s Ferry, on Monday next, the 11 th, when I shall be happy to meet Mr. G . Should I not be allowed to I Hi NARRATIVE OF THE go, the officer, who is to commanfd the esoort, between whom and tnyself no dis* tinction need be made, can speak on the affair ; let me intreat you, Sir^ to fevour a matter so interesting to the parties con- cerned, and which is of ^o private a nature, that the public on neither side can be in- jured by it. ■»» '■• J ; 1 1- ' *' I shall be happy, on my part, in doing any act of kindness to you in a family or property concern of a similar nature. " I trust I shall not be detained; but should any old grudge be a cause for it, I should rather risk that, than neglect the business in question^ or assume a myste- rious character to carry on an innocent af- fair ; and, as friends have advised, get your lines by stealth. ( ** I am, Sir, with all regard, your most humble servant, Col, Sheldon. JOHN ANDERSON." DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 143 ' In addition to the papers found on Major Andre, there was produced the pass, given to him by General Arnold, . to go to the White Plains, (which was a distance about half way between Pine's Fridge and New York, and to proceed, if he thought fit, as far as New York. *» There was also another paper, containing a list of a number of persons living in the vicinity of: the posts of Stony and Verplank'* Points; inthishstmy name was inserted, which was read to me, and I was called upon to declare for what purpose it wa9 placed among the preceding enclosures? A» I knew many of the persons mentioned, and that they were of very opposite political principles, I could give no decisive answer, and as it did not apply to me, I said I ccm- ceived none was necessary on my part, for no man was bound to say that legally which might condemn himself. I therefore left- 144 NARRATIVE OF THE the court-martial to place what construction they pleased on that paper, and, indeed, upon the whole of them, asserting at the time, that not being a military man, I knew nothing about their nature. When Major Andre was under his trial before the board of general officers, these papers were produced against him, as ap- pears from an extract of their proceedings, in a letter transmitted by General Washing- ton to Congress, and afterwards published by them under the signature of Charles Thompson, their secretary, agreeably to their order. li&Jf general ipon Ma- them by stters was meral Ro- latter, a» " A note I have firom General Greene leaves me in doubt if his memory had served htm to relate with exactness the substance of the conversation, that had passed between him and myself, on the subject of Major Andre. On an affair of so much conse- quence to my friend, to the two armies, and humanity, I would leave no possibility of a misunderstanding, and therefore take the liberty to put in writing the substance of 1r ' .;'«;^|-:^ Pit' i.:r NARRATIVE OF THE what I said to General Greene. I oiSered to pTOve by the evidence of Colonel Robin- son, and the officers of the Vulture, that Major Andre went on shore at General Ar- nold's desire, in a boat sent for Min in a flag of truce ; that he not only came on shore with the knowledge, and under the protec- tion of the general who commanded in the district, but that he took no step while on shore, but by the direction of General Ar- nold, as will appear from the inclosed letter from him to your excellency. Under these circumstances I could not, and hoped you would not, consider Major Andre as a spy, for any improper phrase in his letter to you. "The facts he relates correspond with the evidence I offer; but he admits a con- clusion that does not follow. The change of clothes was ordered by General Arnold, under whose direction he necessarily was, while within his command. DE4TH OF MAJOR AXDRE. 1^3 ffeyed lobin- , that ral Ar- n a flag 1 shore protec- d in the while on [leral Ar- sed letter ider these loped you as a spy, ;r to you. (( As General Greene and I did not agree in opinion, I wished that disinterested gen- tlemen, of knowledge of the laws of war and nations, might be asked their opinion on the subject, and mentioned Monsieur Knyp- hausen and General Rochambeau. " I related that a captain had been deli- vered to Sir Henry Clinton as a spy, and he undoubtedly was such, but that it being sig- nified to him that you was desirous the man should be exchanged, he ordered him to be exchanged. " I wished that an intercourse of such ci- vilities, as the rules of war admit of, might take off many of its horrors. I admitted that Major Andre had a great share of Sir Henry Chnton's esteem, and that he would be infinitely obliged by his liberation, and that, if he was permitted to return with me, m2 m 164 STARRATIVE OF THE I would engage to have any person you would be pleased to name set at liberty. m U 'ft Hi' #; " I added, that Sir Henry Clinton had never put to death any person for a breach of the rules of war, though he had, and now has, many in hii^, power. Under the present circumstances, much good may arise from humanity ; much ill from the want of it, if that could give any weight. I beg leave to add, that your favourable treatment of P»' t.jor Andre would be a favour I should ever be intent to return to any you hold dear. " My memory does not retain with the exactness 1 could wish, the words of the letter which General Greene shewed me, from Major Andre to your excellency : for Sir Henry Clinton^s satisfaction.. I beg you will order a copy of it to be sent to me at New York. M DEATH OF MAJOR ABTDIE. l(Si " I have the honoar to be your excel* lency's most obedicDt and most humble servant, « His Excellency J. ROBERTSON." General Washington. '* Notwithstanding this pathetic and affect^ ing letter, to which no answer was given, because, through the still glowing and per- secuting enmity of General Greene, it was dehvered too late, the sentence of the board of general officers remained unreversed. Major Andre, understanding that his fate was finally determined on, and being infonr/id of the mode of his death, addressed the let" ter to General Washington which I hd7 e already inserted*. This letter, however, was not answered ; • Vide Page 126. 166 NARRATIVE OF THE 'Vm^^tr '■A but General Washington confsulted the board of officers on the subject. Overcome with remorse and sorrow, mingled with esteem, they were all for granting this last request, until General Greene insisted that his crime was that of a common spy, and that the ser- vice and good of the American cause re- quired the most exemplary punishment. This he urged with such vehemence as in- duced a compliance in the rest ; for, said he, if he is shot, mankind will think there are circumstances in his case> which mtitied him to notice and indulgence. if™ At length the awful period arrived ; and on the morning of the 2d of October, this ufthappy victim of the errors of others, was led out to the place of execution. As he passed along, the American army were asto- nished at the dignity of his deportment, and the manly firmness, and complacency of countenance, which spoke the serene com- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 167 posure of his mind ; a glow of sympathy per- vaded the breast of the soldiers, and the tears of sensihihty were visible in every eye. He bowed himself, with a smile, to all he knew in his confinement. When he approached the fatal spot, and beheld the preparations, he .'itopped, and paused, as if absorbed in reflection ; then quickly turning to the offi- cer next him, he said — ^* What! must I die in this manner?" Being told it was so or- dered, he instantly said, ♦* I am reconciled, and submit to my fete, but deplore the mode; — it will be but a momentary pang;'* and with a calmness that, while it excited the admiration, melted the heart of every spectator, performed the last offices to him- self. He then requested that all around him would bear witness to the world, — " THAT HE DIED LIKE A BRAVE MAN ! " He perished universally esteemed and la- mented; indeed, a general sorrow at his m NARRATIVE OF THY fate pervaded all ranks of people through the continent of America. As he passed the church where I v/as con* fined, while under trial, he asked the mean- ing of the crowd around it ? and when told I was then upc ? my trial as an accomplice, he sighed, and said — " Poor man I he kmvn nothing of the real business,' i% Id General Washington, ip a letter to a friend, soon after the Major's execution, thus expresses himself: — * *' Andre has met his fate, and with that fortitude which was expected from an ac- complished man and a gallant officer ; but I am mistaken if Arnold is not undergoing at this time the torments of a mental hell,'* . ]Even Major Andre's enemies, if it were DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 169 possible so amiable a character could have any, were as high in his applause, as the general mass were terrible in their execra- tions against General Arnold, I cannot here omit some notice of the cha- racter given of Andre by Bushrod Washing- ton, in the life of his relative, the general ; for, as coming from an enemy, it ought to have a double effect to stamp the exceilen- cies of the accomphshed suflferer : — *' It would seem that art had been suc-^ cessfully employed in the embellishment of those fascinating qualities that nature had lavished on him. Possesred of a fine per- son and an excellent understanding, he had united the polish of a court, and the refine- ments given by education, to the heroism erf a soldier. When youth, adorned with siich rare accomplishments, is consigned prematurely to the grave, all our sensibilities P 170 NARRATIVE OF THE are roused, and for a moment human society seems to sustain a deprivation by the melan- choly stroke.'* Colonel Hamilton, who was aid-de-camp to General Washington, as I have already mentioned, and the same that was killed in fK duel by Colonel Burr, vice-president of the United States, whose name has been so often mentioned in the public papers, and who was lately tried for treason by order of President Jefferson, in a letter written at that time, says — "^t r i ** There was something singularly inte- resting in .the character and fortunes of An- dre. To an excellent understanding, well improved by education and travel, he united a peculiar elegance of mind and manners, and the advantage of a pleasing person. It is said he possessed a pretty taste for the fine arts, and had himself obtained some profici* DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 171 cncy in poetry, music, and painting. His knowledge appeared without ostentation; his sentiments were elevated, and inspired esteem, as they had a softness that concili- ated affection. His elocution was hand- some; his address easy, polite and insi- nuating. " By his merit he had acquired the unli- mited confidence of his general, and was making rapid progress in military rank and reputation ; but, in the height of his career, flushed with new hopes from the execution of a project the most beneficial to his party that could be devised, he is, at once, pre- cipitated from the summit of prosperity, and sees all the expectations of his ambi- tion blasted, and himself ruined. *' The character I have given of him is drawn partly firom what I saw of him my- self, jEuid partly from the best information. . ¥ ^^J 172 NARRATIVE OF TH I am aware that a man of real merit is never seen in so true a light, as through the me- dium of adversity; — the clouds that sur- round him.y are as so many shades, that set off his good qualities; misfortune cuts down little vanities that, in prosperous times, serve as so many spots in his virtues, and give a tone to humanity that makes his worth more amiable. His spectators, who enjoy a happier lot, are less prone to detract from it rbr »ugh envy, and are much dis- poseil Jiroagh compassion, to give him the credit he deserves, and, perhaps, to mag- nify it.'* Bushrod Washington, in his life of the general, goes on to say :— - " The general-officers lamented the sen- tence» which the usages of war compelled them to pronounce; and, perhaps, on no occasion of hj& life, did the commander in DEATirOF MAJOR ANDRE. 173 chief obey with more reluctance the stem mandates of duty and of policy : the sym- pathy excited among the American officer*' was as universal as it is unusual on su' 1 casions; anH proclaims alike the mer • him who suffered, and the humanity of those who countenanced the punishment." If we trace the history of military heroism as far back as the annals of imperial Rome, or that of Britain in any stage of its highest glory, we cannot find a superior constella- tion of admirable virtues in any man, not even in the Mountjoys, Veres, and Cecils. Major Andre testified that an English officer never forgets what he owe? to his country in every clime ; the wreaths that adorned the brows of the Talbots, Salisburys, Mow- brays, and a hundred other illustrious names of former ages, were acquired by British valour in British officers ; nor have the Ed- wards and Henrys who have swayed the IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I li laiM |2.5 .50 "^ 1^ 2.2 m 25 IIIU 11.6 % .^ > >^ > V ^ ^. y: ^> v /A HiotQgraphic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WfcSSTER.N.Y. 14SS0 (716)172-4503 174 NARRATIVE OF THE British sceptre, disdained the duties of sub- ordinate rank ; for example, Henry the Fifth in the glorious battle of Agincourt — and Edward the Third acquired, in the hos- tile field, those laurels that adorned him as an officer, and graced him as a monarch — and Major Andre, in the sacrifice he made of his life in the service of his sove- reign, far surpassed the brave Greek, who exclaimed — " What toils do I undergo, O Athenians! that 1 may merit your appro- bation." It was the courage, the virtue, and the generous contempt of ease, wealth, and danger, that gave English officers, in the days of Queen Elizabeth, the highest lustre in the eyes of Europe and their countiy men : a distinction, that neither birth nor titles can bestow; while the public approbation was not confined to the barren praise of fame, but more often productive of durable DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. \76 emolument ; and it is the glory of some of the noblest families in England, that merit in the field was rewarded by beauty at the court ; and both have concurred to transmit their distinguished bono jrs to posterity with undiminished lustre. 'ip^- The guardian and protector of the rights of Europe, the restorer of British liberty. King William the Third, was indebted not only for his throne, but his glory, to the virtue and courage of British officers ; and where they commanded he was never be- trayed or disappointed. ■' 1 The same spirit exhibited itself in a more splendid and glorious manner in the reign of Queen Anne — Churchill, Duke of Marlbo- rough, still lives unrivalled in history ; and need we go farther than the present day, when the glorious achievements of the im- "i.,"i. 176 KAARATIV£ OF THK mortal Nelson still animate each British breast? A grateful nation will cherish the memory of the brave; and our gracious sovereign, the brightest ornament of whose reign has been to reward distinguished merit, has caused a monument to be erected in West- minster Abbey, which, with the historic page both of England and America, will perpe- tuate the virtue and gallantry of Major Andre through ages yet unknown. Description of the Monument i '^estminstet Ahhey, for MAJOR JOHN ANDRE, designed by Robert Adam, Esq. Architect^ and executed in statuary Marble by Mr, P,M, Van Gelder, This monument is composed of a sarco- phagus, elevated on a pedestal, upon the .-*.v. ■<■»■: Si..^.. V # British (?». ! ■ -.-y, lemory ereign, gn has it, has West- ricpage perpe- •r Andre tminstet NDRE, rchitecti by Mu a satco- pon the ||iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiHHiiiiiiiiitiHniiiiii.iiiiiniiiiiiHiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!p liiinilllltllflHHIHUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII^ ■PBIIIIIliB III mmi w^''''^~^W^S!M!S 11 1 — - ■il m iiliiiiii 11 1 111 JtoUJdamt JreK\ TMr.MJtrjatlp. Skirt mtk^^X lanAm^^thJiskfi hyUtAtmit Ikln^haMf, DBAtB Of IfAJOR ANDREW 177 panncfl of which is engraved the following mscnption :— ^ ...rv. \k " >d efi MAJOR JOHN ANDRiS, ^' ^ il JJfll ' Who, ndiiBd by hli Merits at an «lurly PerUid . '"v'ii^ of his Life, to the Rank of AOtftJTANT.GBNKiUL OF THE BRITISH FORCES ^ l^AtHERICA, ' aad, cmptoycd in an ia|ort*iit hut hazardous Enterprise, . to his ZfoZ Jw hit King and Ceuntrjff on the sd of October, 178O, aged sg, uaif ersally beloved and esteemed by the Army in which he serred, and lamented even ,• ^ by his Foes. j^> His gracioos SoTereiga '^^ -'. \ KinooKomoKjir. ' has caused this 9(onvment to bo erected* On the front of the sarcophagus, General Washington is represented in his tent,\at the moment when he h^d received the report of the court-martial held oa Major Andre; \f. m N 17B KARBATltS OFtHltf i-^ %t the same time a flag of truce arrived from the British army, with a letter for General Washington to treat for the Major's life. But the fatal sentence being already passed, the flag was sent baqk without the hoped for clemency in his favour* , -.r-. . M^jor Andre received his condemnation with that fortitude and resolution which had always marked his character, and is repre- sented going with unshaken spirit to meet bis doom., - , i ,v . ^ j ♦ > On the top of the sarcophagus, a figure of Britannia rechned, laments the premature fate of so gallant an officer. The British Lion too, seems instinctively to mourn his untimely death. > . ' I .,• f;j ' r .■' . . iff': ',,' i '. ■ , l. tVi. -*■:■' \' " C, ' \ ' *■ ■ ', ■ •' ■■ *• ••■•' *' ' - Ancient nor modern history does not ex- hibit an instance, where an officer fell so universally lamented by adversaries and DEATH OF MAJOE ANDRE. 179 Mends ; ah irrefhigable proof of unsullied bonour, and superior merit. £ulogy cannot do sufficient justice to the deserts of this rarely-accomplished hero; and it must be some consolation to his sur- viving friends, that his and their foes drop the tear of sympathy, and mingle their sor- rows at the same shrine, made sacred to vir- tue and truth. Never can my memory cease to record the impassioned language of his countenance^ and the energy with which he expressed his wish to be on board the Vulture, when view- ing that ship froim an upper window of my house ; I knew not his inestimable merits : General Arnold, when he took my coat, said he was a young merchant, and from folly or pride had borrowed a British officer's coat from his acquaintance. No man's worth can be appreciated in the^ compass of a few V80 NARRATIVE or THE hours ; my feelings were much exercised a-t Major Andrews distress, so strongly depic^ tured in his countenance ; I thought he could have been returned, by a ilag from (general Arnold, by any of the officers at Stony Point, who were at that time under his immediate command ; and he was him- sslf on the spot, on his way to West Point; The arrangement for his return by land was made between them the morning after Major Andre came on shore, when I was confined to my bed with the s^ue ; and surely it was more consistent with propriety to employ a military man than a citizen ; when there was no impediment or contending mf^uence to have prevented- General Arnold's placing Major Andre in a state of perfect safety in half an hour. There appears to have been a fsital infatuation throughout the whole of this transaction. .: (,t *.-;' ^i,y. '■ The original interview wa» to have been DEATH OF MAJOn ANDRE. 181 ic- he rom } at nder tiim- oint. was 4ajoT ifined it was )loy a re was ice to )lacing ifety in been a i of this ■■Si ,ve been Keld between General Arnold and Major Andre at Dobbs*s ferry, on the east side of the river ; the Vulture had been stationed there for the purpose some time previous to her movjng up to Haverstraw Bay. Ge- neral Arnold had made several attempts to go on board himself; on two occasions he was near the ship, and was fired upon by her, and the barge that conveyed him nar* rowly escaped the shot ; this he declared to me on his return from pne of these excur- sions. Being disappointed, however, on this account, the meditated interview was proposed to take place in another way. The letter from Major Andre, of the 7th Sept. 1780, to Colonel Sheldon, before recited, and which was laid before the board of gene- ral-officers, states, that there had been a Correspondence between General Arnold and Major Andre, under the signatures of Gustavus and Anderson ; and Colonel Shel- don, who had not heard of Anderson before, 189 NARRATIVE OF THE when he inclosed this letter, is infonned bj General Arnold, in his answer, that he ex- pected a person by that name to come from New York, for the purpose of bringing him intelligence. These letters were found among General Arnold's papers, after his flight from Robinson's house. General Ar^ nold explains this business fully in his letter to General Washington, dated from New York, Oct. 1, 1780, an extract of which I hef e insert:— . " From your excellency's letter to Sir Henry Clinton, I find a board of general- officers have given it as their opinion, that Major Andre comes under the description of a spy ; my good opinion of the candour and justice of those gentlemen leads me to believe, that if they had been fully ac- quainted with every circumstance respecting Major Andre, they would by no means have considered him in the light of a spy, or even DBATII OF MAJOB ANDRE. 18a of a prisoner. In justice to him I think it my duty to declare, that he came from on board the Vulture, at my particular request^ by a flag sent on purpose for him by Joshua Smith, Esq. who had permission to go to Dobbs's ferry to carry letters, and for other purposes not mentioned, and to return ; Mr. Smith, at the same time, had my pri- vate directions to go on board the Vulture, and bring on shore Colonel Robinson, or Mr. John Anderson, which was the name I had requested Major Andre to assume ; at the same time I desired Mr. Smith to inform him, that he should have my protection, and a safe passport to return in the same boat, as soon as our business was com- pleted. As several accidents intervened to prevent his being sent on board, I gave him pfiy passport to return by land. Mjyor An- dre came on shore in his uniform, (without disguise,) which, with much reluctance, at my particular and pressing instance, ho ex- changed fof another coat. I furnished him % 18^ VTARRATIYE OP THE ivith a horse and saddle, and pointed out the rout by which he was to return ; and, as commanding officer in the department, I had an undoubted right to transact all these matters, which, if wrong, Major Andre ought by no means to suffer for them. From the above letter, as my name was confidentially mentioned by General Arnold, it would appear that I must have had some knowledge of the nature and extent of the pbjects meditated in this transaction, which, with the circumstance of lending my coat, were, with other collateral proofs, the strong- est presumptions offered against me on my trial ; on that account I was the more hardly pressed ; yet General Arnold, in a postscript to a letter he addressed to General Washing- ton, from on board the Vulture, the 25th of September, 1780, declares as follows :— "N. B. In justice to the gentlemen of my family, Colonel Varick, and Major Franks, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 18i 1 think myself in honour bound to declare^ that they, as well as Joshua Smith, Esq. (who I know is suspected,) are totally igno- rant of any transactions of mine, that they had reason to believe were injurious to the public." •'- ' ' Of this I shall take notice when I come to my defence. ' Major Andre's remains were interred in an open field, belonging to a Mr. Mabie, in the vicinity. .. The Greyhound schooner, flag of truce, which brought General Robertson's last let- ter to General Washington, dated on board the schooner on the 2d of October, the day Major Andre suflfered, carried to New York the melancholy account of that event. ' ^ No language can describe the mingled sen- 186 NARRATIVE OF TU£ ;./'f« i ;,!l:l?M. sations of horror, grief, sympathy, and re- venge, that agitated the whole garrison; a silent gloom overspread the general counte- nance ; the whole royal army, and citizens of the first distinction, went into mourn- ing. Sir Henry Clinton, (although stung with the deepest sorrow for the loss of so valuable an officer,) who best knew how to appreciate his merits, yet could not indulge that spirit of resentment, in exercising the dictates of passion or policy, by a retaliation on a number of Carolina prisoners, of the first distinction, who had forfeited their lives agreeable to the usage of war. In almost every instance, where humanity could be exercised, the lenity of Sir Henry Clinton was eminently conspici'ous, both in civil and in military matters. I cannot forbear to mention a circumstance that occurred at New York, while under his command. : — A man, on the island of New York, who DEATH OF MAJOR ANDJIE. 187 had cultivated a garden with great care and labour, finding that it was constantly robbed at night, either by citizens or soldiers, was determined to terrify the thief. Accordingly, when dusk, he placed himself under the shelter of some bushes ; — he saw a man cross his fence, and in the very act of taking his property, when he immediately fired a gun, without ball or shot, to drive him away ; this not having the desired effect, as he con> tinned his depredations, he immediately dis- charged another musket, well loaded, and shot him dead on the spot. The alarm brought the neighbours together, and the man surrendered himself into the hands of justice. There being no courts erected for criminal causes, Sir Henry Clinton ordered that, as the malefactor was rich, he should pay a heavy fine to the relations of the de- ceased, who were poor : the general thought it a better compensation than to take away the man's life. 188 17ARRATIVE OF THE There are many instances which I could mention, of the benignity of Sir Henry Clinton ; but the case of a Captain Robin- son, who was proved to be a spy, and seve- ral others, all of whom were released at the desire of General Washington, shew that it Was the invariable system of Sir Henry Clinton to prevent as much as possible the * ... horrors of war. ' 1*^H'H'' The solemn tragedy of the unfortunate Major Andre being closed, 1 shall proceed to relate what occurred on my own trial, and the various hardships I encountered through this unhappy transaction: I shall also add such other matters of fact, as will tend to throw light on the objects of this publication. ' '-'\ ' * It is worthy of remark, that Major An- dre's awful fate did not in the least seem to abate the fury of my persecution by Generah &EATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 189 Washington. Notwithstanding the decla* rations of both Arnold and Andre, my guards were doubled, I was more closely watched, and I was assured daily that, from the additional evidences that were to be pro- duced against me, I ought to prepare for the same fete as had befallen Major Andre. ' No ferther testimony was, however, of- fered at Tappan, or Orange Town ; for the day after the sacrifice of Major Andre« the 3d of October, the American army broke up their encampment, and marched to Pi- ram us; whether from an apprehension of being too near the British army, at that place no more than 20 miles, or that the country was sufficiently exhausted, I can- not pretend to determine ; the former, how- ever, was the general opinion, from the en- raged state of the royal troops. I wa» marched under the provost guard, on foot, very weak and languid, although my horsey 190 NARRATIVE OF THE ivas ready to convey me, with one of my i^rvants to attend me ; but he ivas not pev" mitted to go, and the horse was stolen that night. I was at first placed in a barn, with my giiard, but the night being wet and cold, I was, through the intreaty of a Colonel Lutterlough, a perfect stranger, suffered to' sit before the fire, in a good kitchen, at- tended by some of the guard. , .1 \o During the night, being in much pain^ arising from the fever and ague, which had not lef^ me since my first arrest, one of the guard appeared to sympathise very sincerely with me, and, in a whimper, offered to aid me in effecting my escape, if Ifound myself able to undertake the fatigue, towards the morning; being in no disposition of mind or body to accept the offer, and fearing it a trap to deceive me, I dechned the solicita- tion, and had reason afterwards to find my apprehensions true, for the fellow confessecT wl ■ DEATH OP MAJOR ANDRE. 191 to a person of strict veracity, that he was employed to lay the temptation in my way. ^ ■ • t ' • -'^ • ■• At Piramus were a number of genteel fa- milies, who had taken refuge therefrom New York, and who, knowing myself and con- nections, earnestly importuned General Washington to permit their sending me some provisions ; the same application was made at Tappan, by the family where the general resided, but the humane individuals re- ceived, at both places, a rude and an un- feeling denial. The army did not long continue here, but proceeded to a place called Totowa Bridge, near the celebrated Falls of Pissaick. Onr the road I had another offer from two of my guard, that if I would make the attempt ta escape at night, finding me better in health and spirits than I 'had been on the line of march, they would give me^ every assist-^ f' t ■1* .■'fc'-''3 lit }99 NARRATIVE OF THE ^ce. Being natives of that part of the country, they assured me that I should be sheltered by their friends, who, they as- serted, were attached to the King's interest. These people, I believe, were sincere ; and I knew that the far greater part of the inha- bitants in the vicinity were loyalists, and had taken the oath of allegiance to the king in the autumn of 1776: having, however, suffered so much already, ai^d knowing that no evidence could touch my life, unless by subornation, I was unwilling to incur any risks, and therefore declined their offer. It was near this place that Colonel Bay- lor, of the Virginia cavalry, was surprised, and the greater part of his troops either cut to pieces, or taken prisoners. The inhabi- tants of this district, from their known at« tachment to the British interest, were ac- cused of having piloted the royal troops to this attack, on account of their being plun- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 193 dered of their property by the soldiery under Colonel Baylor's command. About mid* way between Paramus and Passaick Falls, at this place, my guard was relieved and doubled. The second night after leaving Paramus, I was placed under a strong guard at a public house, near Totowa Bridge ; before this I was kept in the open air, and forced to lie on the ground, which LA>rd Stirling observing, as he rode by, mentioned the ill usage to General Washington, and requested, as a femily friend, that I might be sheltered ; this indulgence he rductantly consented to. I was well guarded at this house, having a captain with two centinels without, and one within the room of my confinements I was left to subsist in the best way I could; but this was not diffi»> cult, as I received supplies of cash from a source which I was then unacquainted with. At length I was here again brought beibce 194 NARRATIVE OF THE the court-martial, \vhen the following wit- nesses were produced, viz. Colonel Lamb, Mr. Jonathan Laurence, Major-General Howe, Captains Gardner and Hutchins, and Commodore Bowen, with several others. The general purport of their testimony was little more than presumptive evidence, except that of Colonel Lamb, who declared that he was present at General Arnold's table, when the subject of the flags was in« troduced in conversation ; and he confirmed what I have already related on that subject. Through the indisposition of one of the members of the court-martial, their sitting was postponed for several days. This cir- cumstance, with the comfort of having a bed to rest on, and the privilege of procuring in the interim my own food, gave me fresl) DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 195 ; wit- eneral chins, jeverai timony idence, ieclared Lraold's was in- nfirmed n that ; of the r sitting his cir- ag a bed uring in ■ne fresh spirits to encounter the hardships of my situation. On the recovery of the member who was indisposed, the court-martial sat every day for about a fortnight, but proceeded very slow in the examination of their witnesses ; it was conjectured by my friends that the delay was occasioned by the hope that some new matter of evidence would have arisen; and no efforts were wanting on the part of the prosecutor to bring all the testimony against me which he could procure. During this period, I received a very con- solatory message from my brother, the chief justice ; my wife and family were permitted to see me, but not without some hesitation on the part of General Washington, who even reprehended MajorrGeneral Howe: for his polite attention to them; the general, however, answered, that as she was a lady 02 196 KARRATIVEOFTHK of bis acquaintance, and a native nf Caro* lina, no power on earth should prevent him firom discharging those duties, which huma- nity and pohtenesa demanded. An elder brother of mine, in the profession of the hiw, was ordered fh>m camp, until the court- martial had gone through their evidence. I The examination of witnesses was pro- tracted to a fortnight after my detention at Totowa Bridge , and no farther evidence ap- pearing, I was allowed to call such as might assist in my defence, while a short time was allowed for me to draw it up. As my l(f^ wa^ at stake, and the interests ^tA\ that wer^ dear to me we.^ irtvohed m my fete, my family then com-^tifp; uf .i ten- der Wife and two young children, tny ener- gies were exerted to the utmost, and in the «; ?ce of Stwty-eight hours I presented t de- ffence t^ the court-martial, whieh fHlerf a DEATH OP MAJOP ANDRF 197 quire of pmper, closely written; J read it to them, and a large part of the army, in the presence of a great concourse of the inhabit ta. u 1 should have no objection to pre- s?nt it to the public, but on considering tha superior importance of the other parts of the narrative, I have no doubt that the reader will prefer its being dispensed with. On delivering the papers to the judge-advocate I was ordered to withdraw. The defence principally consisted in com- ments upon the judicial power before whom I was made amenable. The resolve of Con- gress which authorised my detention, was passed on the S7th of February, 1778 ; it states as follows,-^** that whatever inhabi- tant of these states shall kill^ or seize, or lake, any loyal citizen or citi2ens thereof, and convey him or them to any place within the pvwet of the enemy, or shall enter into any combination for such purpose, or at- 19s NARRATIVE OF THE It 'if 'I tempt to carry the same into execution, or hath assisted, or shall assist therein ; or shall, by giving intelligence, acting as a guide, or in any other manner whatever, aid the enemy in the perpetration thereof, he shall suffer death by the judgment of a court- martial, as a traitor, assassin, or spy, if the offence be committed within seventy miles of the head-quarters of the grand or other armies of these states where a general officer commands." |;( ' ; I contended that this mere resolve of con- gress could not abolish a fundamental prin- ciple established in any of the civil constitu- tions of states in the union ; that the exer- cise of the power vested by this resolution, deprived the subject of the right of trial by jury, the great bulwark of individual free- dom ; and that it was in direct contradiction to the declaration of the reasons which Con- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 199 gress assign for their separation from the power of Great Britain* I shewed from several couriter^-resolutions and solemn acts of congress, that this re- solve was suited to the then special occa- sion, and was not meant to obtain a general influence, but was "only at that time appli- cable to Pennsylvania, the British troops being in the possession of the capital of Philadelphia. And here it will not be inappropriate to mention the sentiments of Dr. Gordon » who, in a letter to his friend, on the sub- ject of the American revolution, after re- citing the resolution, says, " This resolu- tion has been introduced to shew you what a stretch of power congress have been guilty of: they have hereby suspended, in parti- cular cases, the judicial authority of the Massachusetts state, which is not the seat 200 NARRATIVE OP TH£ of war, and subjected certain criminals to a trial by court-martial, instead of leaving them to the laws of the state." — He goes on to exemplify as follows: " At Provi- denee a general-officer commands a small army at the distance of forty^iive miles from Boston.**-^The Doctor proceeds most justly to observe : " All bodies of fallible men possessed of, or claiming power, ought to be narrowly watched, or, from good or bad intentions, they will transgress the limits of their constitution, without a real necessity." This letter, reciting the resolve of congress, was dated from Boxbury, June 1, 1778. Urn] 'J hi It must appear strange to the world, that Congress should violate those rights of citi- zenship, Cor which their country was drenched in blood. This flagrant injustice WILL MARK THE SAVAGB FEROCITY WITH WHICH THEIR GENERAL SOUGHT MY LIFE, (not sufficiently glutted with that ■^ DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 201 of the accomplished Andre,) and ought to be a warning to posterity fiow they invest tyrant* with any sort of powers that they can with impunity abuse. Without any one as my counsel I was compelled to enter on my defence, which I did with the more cheerfulness, from the candid and impartial manner in which the trial was conducted by the judge-advocate, and the court-nuurtial in general, but more particularly the president. Colonel Henry Jackson, of the town of Boston, in the Mas> sachuset's State, In order to form a correct idea of the rea- soning ofieved in my de^nce, it will be ne- cessary here to repeat the charge, to shew the artful manner in which it was drawn upby the prosecutor, General Washington himseif: *' You stand charged for aiding and assist- ing Benedict Arnold, iate a major-general in ^■^. $02 NARRATIVE OF THU our service, in a combination w^ith the enemy, for the purpose of taking, seizing, and killing such of the loyal citizens and soldiers as were in garrison at West Point and its dependencies." 'p' I insisted, in my answer, upon the follow- ing general principles : — 1st. That General Arnold was actually a major-general in the American service at the very time I was engaged in the combi- nation specified in the charge, and that I could not have had any agency without his sanction and direction ; for General Arnold did not relinquish his commission until the 1st of October, 1780, the day previous to Major Andre's death, as will appear from his following letter to General Washington, when at New York : "Sir, " I take this opportunity to inform your DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 203 lemy, , and )ldiers nd its excellency, that I consider myself no longef acting under the commission of Congress, their last to me being among my papers at West Point; you, Sir, will make such use of it as you think proper. follow- ctually rvice at combi- that I LOUt his Arnold ntil the lous to ar from lington, " At the same time I beg leave to assure your excellency, that my attachment to the true interests of mi/ 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. " I have the honour to be, &c. B. ARNOLD." The testimony of the two Colquhouns proved that General Arnold himself gave the instructions for us to go on board the Vul- ture ; that he furnished the boat, directed the muffling the oars, offered the reward for their labour, and, in case of non-compliance. •m your S04 XABRATIYE OF THS .' '' :■■ ".a) t r'UJi . 'M^^^l i J, 't. threatened the punishment he w&s authorised to inflict. 9dly. That the charge, in the present in- stance, was a charge of treason against the United States ; treason being a crime of the high'^^it magnitude known in the law, the iaw demanded that it should be supported by the sttoogest testimony. Under this head I proved that the consti* tution of the State of New York had con« firmed all the acts of parliament, that had been in use by the colony of New York under the ancient government, previous to the declaration of independence in July, 1776« and, consequent^, the act of parlia- ment respecting treason, passed in the reign of Edward the Thihl, as it had heretofore been used and considered, was in fdH force, and «tpplicable to the case in question. DEATH OF Il£AJO& ANDRE. 905 This statute enacts, that each and every separate overt-act of treason shall be sup- ported by the testimony of two witnesses, agreeably to the sacred scriptures, " By the mouth of two witnesses every word shall be established.'' In contradiction of this statute, I proved that the whole of the evidence that had been offered, could amount to no more than pre- sumptive evidence. 3dly. I urged as an established maxim, that in every charge or indictment for high crimes or misdemeanors, the knowledge Of the party, charged with having committed the criminality, ^ouk) be so stated in the charge or indictment, and made out by the most clear and conclusive testimony. I demonstrated, from the particulars in the charge, that this was not the case, and •■^f y 206 NARRATIVE OF THE ^•1:4 ilj that not one of the witnesses had suggested the idea ; not even Colonel Hamilton, who attempted it by some artful reasonings upon what I had said in my examination before General Washington, on my being first brought before him. Colonel Harrison de- clared, that I delivered my declaration to General Washington with firmness and per- spicuity,^ and was unembarrassed until in- formed by the general, that Arnold had fled to the British standard; I then appeared, for a moment, astonished, it being the first intimation I had received of his flight. At that time I could scarcely believe General Washington's assertion, and frankly told him, that if there was any error or misma- nagement, he must look to General Arnold, I having acted solely by his direction, and had uniformly done what I conceived to be for the best interest of America. 4thly. I averred, that in all courts of jus- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 207 tice in particular, every man, however ac- cused, was always presumed innocent until he was proved guilty; and that the most wise and rigid administrators of justice upon the bench, and otherwise, had invariably determined, that where the cause was doubtful, the scale of justice should prepon- derate in favour of the accused, upon the principle already established, — that it was better that ninety-nine criminals should pass unpunished, than that one innocent man should unjustly suffer. 5thly I proved, from the authority and usage of all courts of justice, that where the party's declaration or confession is brought as evidence against himself, that the whole must be taken together, and not abstract- edly ; as, if otherwise, through the art of the accuser, the most innocent man might be made to contradict and condemn himself; and — 908 XARRATIVB OF THK 6thly. And lastly, I corroborated these general principles by authorities founded in reason and in law ; and the concurrent usage of civil policy in all Christian and enlightened nations. !'.: ■^'■.; !/.'_ lU^} place of my confinement. Previous to my ar- rival, some person had mentioned to the woman of the house, in which 1 was impri- soned, that I was condemned by the court- martial, on which the good housewife, in a furious rage, refused me admittance. The reader may conceive that I was not a little shocked with this instance of vulgar un- feelingness; another place was therefore found for my reception, in which I waited in suspense for several days, but consoled myself with the reflection that I had dis- charged my duty, to the extent of my abi- lity, for the benefit of my distressed family ; and composed my mind to support with re- signation and fortitude whatever might befal me. During this confinement, I had a visit from two of the court-martial, (a Major and a Captain,) accompanied by the Judge- Advo- <;ate : the court-martial consisted of a Co- ^1 *hi DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. ^11 lonel, Major, and twelve Captdins, princi- pally collected from the Connecticut line of the army, who, being General Arnold's countrymen, it was supposed, would be more enraged against me, if it had been proved that 1 was in his confederacy ; and I must confess that, at the time, I considered them in no other light than a packed jury : but no gentlemen could have acted with more candour and liberality, after the prin- cipal evidences were taken. The object of the Major's interview was to obtain from me an explanation of the rea- son why my name was inserted amongst those of the inhabitants, that were found upon Major Andre? This appeared to be a great stumbling-block to him, and which, as I have already observed, I could not re- move ; he left me, apparently much affected by my unhappy situation, and said, the p 9 ... i|,;,V 212 NARRATIVE OF THE court-martial would soon determine on my case. Some few days after, I had a visit from another of the court-martial, who, during the whole of my trial, sympathised much with me, and expressed himself greatly con- cerned, lest General Washini^ton should di- rect a re-consideration of the sentence that had been passed. r?.':.:.-'^ Although these hints tended to re-animate my hopes, they were not satisfactory, for I knew the malevolence of the prosecutor against my family, and was convinced that after having gone such lengths illegally and unconstitutionally, he would not readily relinquish his revenge, while there was the least colour of justice to gratify it. I was informed that there were those about his person, who were inclined to cherish in his DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 213 mind sentiments prejudicial to my hopes; and, among them, the infamous Colonel Bull, whose notorious character has already been exposed. I depended greatly upon the open and unreserved assertions of General Greene, the principal confidant of General Washington, who freejy gave his opinion, that if I was guilty, there was not sufficient testimony against me to touch my life ; and 1 knew also that my nephew, Colonel Wil- liam Livingston, was unwearied in his soli- citations with the general to interest him in my behalf, and to whom General Greene owed considerable obligations. Thus languishing under the various im- pressions of hope and fear, I seriously wished a termination to an existence that had be- come a burthen to me*; — my days were im- bittered by the thoughts of my afflicted family. — Even at this distance of time, my heart recoils at the recollection of those iw^ $14 NARRATIVE OF THE scenes of horror that tortured my imagination. It was conjectured by some, that General Washington had transmitted my case to con- gress for ultimate direction ; by others, that, as I had appealed to the civil authority, he appUed to the executive power of the state to which I belonged. 1 was lost in conjec- ture,— -when, on the morning of the 10th of November, I was roused from my stupor by an officer of the horse, who dehvered a note to the officer of the guard, under whose cus- tody I was, and then, turning tome, desired me to follow him immediately; 1 most cheer- fully obeyed, for any situation was better than the miserable state of suspense which I had so long endured. A troop of horse was recruiting at the door, and a led horse was brought to me, which 1 was commanded to mount. Wl^en we were at some distance from the house, I ventured to ask where we were DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 915 going ? The officer sternly replied, I should soon see. Tortowa bridge lies in a valley, and on reaching the summit of the eastern hill, 1 could perceive that he had taken a circuitous road towards the Hudson River. I now indulged myself with the hope that perhaps, 1 might once more, see my little family. We rode silently on, followed by our guides with drawn swords; various co- lourings of different impressions that stole across my mind, respecting my future des, tiny, perplexed me much; when 1 was roused from my reverie, by a stroke upon my horse, and a thundering oath that if 1 did not press on, we should not arrive at our jour- ney's end that night. I endeavoured to hasten the poor emaciated animal, but my efforts were unavailing, till the humane of- ficer dismounted, and gave me one of his spurs ; with this aid, we soon reached the skirts of Paramus, where we halted to re- fresh ourselves and horses, at a Dutchman^ g]6 NARRATIVE OF THE tavern, for by that name almost all the inns are called ; the landlord knew me, and was preparing to dress me a chicken, but my gruff companion swore in broken high- Dutch and English, that the peef and bork was good kanough for a damned dory. The landlord, however, soothed his choler, by offering him some cyder spirits, which in- stantly produced so wonderful an effect, that from a single draught, the swarthy gloom of his countenance assumed a milder aspect. Having dined, we instantly pro- ceeded ; my companion now became gar- rulo js, and in his broken elocution, dis- covered that he was a.Tennsylvanian soldier in the regiment of Young Losberg, who had deserted his colours. A few miles far- ther, we perceived the sign of a public house, and as I found the cyder spirit had so excelhmt an effect, I pressed him to take another libation to Bacchus, and to permit me to treat the troop, to which he DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 217 readily consented; but heavily did I re- enter the house, for it was here that the unfortunate Andre and myself had halted when under the charge of Major Talmadge, on our way to Tappan from West Point. My German commander now became quite fresh and lively, and disputed upon poli- tical subjects with the landlord, who told him he only differed from a hog, for want of bristles; to which my hero replied by calling him a Dory tog, (meaning a Tory dog J and dat he was worser dan turncoad Arnold. I supplied him abundantly with the country nectar, which detained him until near dark , I did this designedly, — as I began to suspect it was his orders to convey me to West Point ; in which conjecture I was not mistaken, — for when we had pro- ceeded a few miles farther, he informed me his orders were to that effect. My next plan was to linger on the way as much as I pos- sibly could, in order to make it late before m 218 NARRATIVE OP THE H^' we could arrive at King's Ferry, in the hope of continuing on the west side of the river, and enjoying the happiness of seeing my family, which were then at my brother's, two miles and a half from the ferry, and whose house we were obliged to pass. In this scheme I was materially aided by the weariness of the poor beast on which I rode ; and, from the double motive of pity to him, and the much stronger one of delay- ing our journey as much as possible, 1 made it, notwithstanding my companion's en- treaties, quite late before we reached my brother's, at Haverstraw. Here I met Co- lonel Burr, who was on a visit, and who, to my inexpressible satisfaction, prevailed upon my commander to halt for the night. Most of the family had retired to bed, but, upon the unexpected news of my arrival, they soon rose, and the happiness of again be- holding the beloved object of my heart, at once banished all my past sorrows. But my DEATH OF MAJOR ANDP.E. 219 joy was momentary — ^for the officer of my guard informed the family, he was ordered to proceed with me to West Point with all possible dispatch, and that whatever conver- sation we wished, must take place that night, as he was compelled to separate us by break of day. The better to secure me, he slept on a sofa in the same room with my family during the night, although Co- lonel Burr was my security, and carefully posted the guards around the doors and windows, giving them a countersign in case of alarm. This was a distressing scene to my poor partner in sorrow, for though she bore her affliction with an exemplary patience, yet she was so 'wercome with this military pa- rade as to be totally disqualified for much conversation, nor had I any to impart but of a nature too gloomy to afibrd her any comfort. m aso NARRATIVE OF TUt 'M.r ! -■n-:f' The morning soon came, and with it a heavy storm ; Colonel Burr endeavoured to persuade the officer, from the weak and lan- guid state I was in, to suffer me to remain until the tempest was abated, which he con- sented to do, if Colonel Burr would ask per- mission from Colonel James Livingston, at Verplank's Point, to whom 1 was to be sent. A messenger was accordingly dispatched for this purpose, who instantly returned with a message, that the request could not be granted, reprimanding the officer for his delay. Thus situated, I was compelled to leave my family in the utmost anxiety of mind. Being arrived at the ferry, I was placed in an open boat, and conveyed eigh- teen miles through a most violent storm, to Robinson^s house, the first scene of my sorrow ; I was detained here only till the storm abated, when I was sent across the river to the place where I was first con- fined, but apparently under a stronger guard DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 221 than before attended me. Upon my ar- rival here, a suspicion forcibly occurred to my mind, that as I was charged with con- federating to deliver this post into the hands of the British army, it might be General Washington's design to execute the sentence of the court-martial at that place, as more exemplary to the garrison, from the crime I was charged with having committed. I ex- perienced many inconveniences in this place, tor as it was a garrison where there was no market, I could obtain no provisions. I therefore addressed a line to General Heath, from Massachuset's, who commanded here, and informed him that i was in a starving condition : he immediately gave directions to the commissary for rations, such as they were, and by his aid-de-camp, a Major Ly- man, he informed me, that I was at liberty to write to my friends for whatever supplies I might want, previously submitting my letter to his inspection ; this I readily did. 22a NARRATIVE OF THE and was soon furnished with the articles that were requisite. Availing myself of this condescension on the part of General Heath, I wrote again to my friends, to supply me with clothing, bedding, and other necessaries, not attain- able in the garrison ; I took the liberty to express myself very freely on the severity of Colonel James Livingston's conduct, in tending me, when in a violent fever, through so severe a storm, a harshness which no policy could warrant, and which was even repugnant to humanity. After a day's detention of my letter, I was indulged with his answer to thp following effect, — *' that in my situation, language less spirited would be more becoming ; and that it would be as improper for him to transmit my letter, as it was unbecoming in me to write it." Being so often, and continuing so long under the apprehension of death, " per fas aut nefas,'^ DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 923 I had lost all fears of that event, and as a week had now elapsed, and my execution was still suspended, I began to alter my first opinion, and dismissed the apprehension that 1 was sent here for that purpose. Al- though unfortunate, I was not abject; I therefore wrote to the general a firm, decent, yet animated letter, requesting to know the cause of my being sent to West Point ; in- forming him that, as a citizen, I had been illegally tried by a court-martial, which had reported my case to General Washington ; I also desired to know the determination of that court-martial, if he was instructed or allowed by General Washington to afford me such information ; inclosing at the same time a printed copy of the constitution, to justify the validity of my assertion. Several days had now elapsed, and I had some indulgences allowed, which I had not heretofore received. This change in- £'i4 NARRATIVE OF THE spired some hope of emancipation ; when, contrary to my expectation, on the 18th of November, I was desired by a Captain Shep- pard, of the New Jersey Continental troop, to prepare in an hour's time to follow him ; and, within the time limited, he came, at- tended by his company, consisting of about fifty men. I marched with him, across the Highland Mountains, to a place called Smith's Clove, a valley, which took its name from my family, as possessing a greater part of the land it contained, as well as round its vicinity. Captain Sheppard, perceiving the very infirm state to which I was reduced, when we arrived at the settlement, very humanely proposed, that if I could procure a horse, he would indulge me with riding ; but as this accommodation could not be obtained at that place, I expressed a wish to be per- ^litted to pass three miles out of the main DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 22i Bthof Shep- troop, ' him; le, at- about 9SS the called )ok its greater well as e very when raanely horse, but as tained be per- le main road, to a farm belonging to my family, where a brother of mine resided, as I had no doubt I should there succeed in procuring horses ; to this he acceded ; and mentioned, that the place of my destination was known only to the Sheriff of the County of Orange, at Goshen, about thirty miles from West Point. The hospitality with which the captain and soldiers were treated on our arrival, an(l the unrestrained freedom they had taken with the strong cider of th« country, threw them entirely off their guard, and the servant whom I had been allowed to have with me at West Point, having been dismissed, to return to my family at Haverstraw, had in his way passed on before me, and intbrmed the tenants of the family estate of the situ- ation in which I was placed ; many of whom came to see me that /light, and, in their zeal to serve me, were very solicitous that I gf6 NARRATIVE OF THE h^t t! should avail myself of the opportunity which circumstances then presented me, to effect my escape. This district was celebrated for the attachment of the inhabitants in general to the British interest, who had frequently encouraged, and protected parties, from New York, in their mountainous recesses; and it was in this defile, that the celebrated Captain Moody, in May, 1781, intercepted an express from General Washington to con- gress, conununicating the result of his inter- view with the commanders of the land and naval forces of France, and which disclosed to Sir Henry Clinton, the design of General Washington to attack the seat of the British power. New York ; and enabled Sir Henry to take the necessary precautions, to prevent the combination, by strengthening the gar- rison ; in withdrawing from Lord Comwallis a part of the troops, then under his command at Williamsburg, in Virginia; and ordering his lordship to repass James River, and DEATH OP MAJOR ANDRE. 227 retire to Portsmouth, when possessed of every advantage. I make this digression, a^ the importance of the pisses of the High- lands was, and possibly may be again, the subject of mihtary contemplation. I must be allowed to add, that almost all the com- fnunications between Canada and New Yorjk passed through this place, there being a regujiar connection of the King's friends, where they could take their stages during the whole war, in the greatest safety. But to return to the narrative.— The debi? litated state of my health would not, had I been ii^jclined, have permitted me to accept the many offers of assistance to effect my escape ; nor could J have conceived myself hoDiour(^]y justified in adopting a measure of that kipd, after the humane and liberal inanner in which I had been used by Cap- taji) Sheppard, who not only mitigated the «evfirijty of ifty jfituatipn, by levery amiable q2 228 NARRAtlVE OF THE act of sympathy the next day, on the road to Goshen, by suffering me to ride there unguarded the greater part of the way ; but when I arrived, and the sheriff, into whose liands he had been directed to deUver my mittimus^ was preparing, in compliance with its command, to place me in the most safe and secure custody, he became my ad- vocate, inccrceded in my behalf for a relax- ation of his rigour, and declared the honour- able manner in which I had resfarded the confidence he had placed in me on the road. The mittimus^ under which I was com- mitted, was signed by or William Wil- liams, Gilbert Livingston, and Robert Harper, stiling themselves a committee of the commissioners for detecting conspi- racies, within the state of New York; this was as arbitrary an act of oppressive tyranny, and as unconstitutional, even upon their DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 229 : Toad there r ; but whose ;rer my pliance le most my ad- a relax- honour- ied the on the as com- Hm Wil- Robert nittee of conspi- ork; this e tyranny, pon their own principles, as the military tribunal from which I appeared to be discharged. A board of commissioners had been ap- pointed, in the first stages of the war, for the purpose of detecting conspiracies ; but after the constitution was framed, defining the liberties of the subject, and the legisla- ture o: I u' state had been convened, this board auyx all committees were abolished; being only tolerated until the regular govern- ment was organised. I was not in a situ- ation, however, to resist this stretch of ar- bitrary power ; and, not long after my new confinement, the grand jury of the county met in this place, it being the principal county town. Much art and industry were employed by the attorney-general, to induce the grand jury to find a bill of indictment against me; but the injustice and cruelty of attempting to place a man's life in danger twice for one and the same offence, was ^^0 ilARRATIVE OF THfi Spiritedly rejected by them ; of this I was informed by several members who composed the grand jury, who reprobated the measure as illegal, unconstitutional, and barbarous. After this attempt, many who had been re- fused access to me, were now admitted; my family were allowed to visit me, and to administer those supphes, and consolations, which the state of my health rendered indis- pensably necessary, from the length of my confinement, and the vicissitudes I had undergone. A short time after this, the jail was filled with those who professed themselves to be the King's friends ; Tories, and those who were prisoners of war; felons, and cha- racters of all colours and descriptions. This occasioned a special commission of oyer and terminer, or general jail delivery to be issued. The wretched state of the country operated only to increase its miseries, by DEATH OP MAJOR ANDRE. 231 the infliction of new and unhearcl«of punish- ments. At the session of that court, another attempt Was made with the grand jury, to persuade them to find d bill of indictment^ but ali their efforts were in vaini this grand jury, as well as their predecessors, were composed Of the first people of the county, attached to the ancient government, and heartil}^ wearied with the confusion and dis» tractions of the unsettled state of public affairs. The campaign of this year was now over, and never were congressional affairs in a more ruinous state. The general disposition of those who had been most activ** became liikewarn, and the disaffected to the eman- <;ipation of the empire by the measure of in- dependence daily increased, from a variety Of causes; and, among others, the introduc- tion of French troops was not the least ; for the remembrance of their <.ruelties in the 232 NARRATIVE OF THE Canadian war, was not obliteratecl from the *ninds of the most intelligent observers, who re'^ded the re-possession of Canada by that power : others, who were strenuous advo- cates of Independence, were driven to greater exertions from the declaration of the French monarch, — that the situation of El ;opean affairs would require all the exer- tions which that nation could make, for its own preservation ; and that all his strength was necessary to maintain the common cause, which might render America as much service at home as elsewhere; and congress was plainly informed, that after that cam- paign, they must expect from France no farther pecuniary, or military assistance. The address, also, of General Arnold to the inhabitants of America, after having abandoned the Republican cause, power- fullv influenced the minds of the citizens ; the facts it contained, in justification of his conduct, were unanswerable; and, as it DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 233 operated to create peculiar vengeance against those who were the king's friends, it had a singular effect in exasperating the leaders of opposition, against myself under the impression of my being charged as con- nected with him, in the unhappy transaction wherein Major Andre fell a sacrifice. For the sake of elucidation, I will here insert this address. , " New York, Oct. 7, 1780. *' I should forfeit, even in my own opinion, the place I have so long held in your's, if I could be indifferent to your approbation, and silent on the motives which induced me to join the King's army. " A very few words however, shall suffice on a subject so personal ; for to the thou- sands who suffer under the tyranny of the usurpers in the revolted provinces, as well 334 KARRATIVE OF THE as to the great multitude who have long wished for its subversion, this instance of my conduct can want no vindication ; and as to that class of men who are criminally protracting the war, from sinister views, at the expense of the public interest, I prefer their enmity to their applaus»< I am, there* fore, only concerned in this address, to ex-^ plain myself to such of my countrymen as want abilities or opportunities^ to detect the artifices by which they are duped. ** Having fought by your side wheri the love of our country animated our arms, 1 shall expect from your justice and catidour, what your deceivers with more art and less honesty, will find inconsistent with their views to admit, *' When I quittfed domestic happbess for the perils of the field, I conceived the rights of my country in danger, and that / DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 235 duty and honour called me to her defence. A redress of grievances was my only object, and aim ; however I acquiesced in a step which I thought precipitate ; the acclamation of independence : ti. justify this measure^ many plausible reasons were urged, which eould no longer exist, when Great Britain, with the open arms of a parent, offered to embrace us as children, and grant the wished-for redress. " And now that our worst enemies are in our bosom, I should change my principles if I cotispired with their designs ; yourselves being judges, was the war less just because our fellow subjects were our foes? You have felt the torture with which we have raised our arms against a brother. — God in- cline the guilty protractors of these unna* tural dissei.'sions to resign their ambition, and cease from their delusions in compassiv. a to kindred blood. 236 NARRATIVE OF THE . " I anticipate your question, was not tho war a defensive one, until the French joined in the combination ? I answer that I thought so. You will add, was it not af- terwards necessary till the separation of the British Empire was complete? By no means. — In contending for the welfare of my country, I am free to declare my opi- nion, that this end attained, all strife should have ceased. *' I lamented, therefore, the impolicy, ty* ranny, and injustice, which, with a sovereign contempt, the people of America, studiously neglected to take their collective sentiments on the British proposals of peace; and to negociate, under a suspension of arms, for an adjustment of differences; I lamented it as a dangerous sacrifice of the great in- terests of this country, to the partial views of a proud, ancient, and crafty foe. I had my suspicions of some imperfections in DEATHOFMAJOR ANDRE. S37 the councils, on proposals prior to the commission of 1778, but having then less to do in the cabinet than the field, (I will not pronounce peremptorily as some may, and perhaps justly, that congress have ex- iled them from the public eye) I continued to be guided in the negligent confidence of a soldier. But the whole world saw, and all America confessed, that the overtures of the second commission, exceeded our wishes, and expectations ; and if there was any suspicion of the national liberality, it arose from its excess. Do any believe that we were really at that time, entangled by an alliance with France ? Unfortunate delusion ! They have been duped by a virtuous credulity, in the incautious moments of intemperate passion, to give up their felicity, to serve a nation wanting both the will and power to protect us ; and aiming at the destruction both of 238 NARRATIVE OFTHK the mother country aiujl the proyincea. In the plainness of common sense, for I pre- tend not to casuistry, did the pretended treaty with the court of Versailles, amount to more than an overture to America? Certainly not: because no authority had been given by th£ people to conclude it, nor to this very hour have thiey authorised its ratification. The articles of confirmation remain still unsigned. " In the firm persuasion therefore, that the private judgment of an individual ci- tizen of this country, is as free from all con- ventional restraints since, as before, the insidious offers of France, I preferred those fi'om Great Britain ; thinking it infinitely wiser, and safer, to cast my confidence upon her justice and generosity, than trust a mo- narchy too feeble to establish your inde- pendency, so perilous to her distant domi- nions, the enemy of the protestant faith, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 239 and fraudulently avowing an afTection for the liberties of mankind, while she holds her native sons in vassalage and chains. *' I affect no disguise, and therefore frank iy declare, that in these principles, I had determined to retain my arms and command, for an opportunity to surrender them to Great Britain ; and in concerting the mea- sures for a purpose in my opinion, as grate- ful, as it would have been beneficial to my country, I was only solicitous to accom- plish an event of decisive importance, and to prevent as much as possible in the exe- cution of it, the effusion of blood. ** With the highest satisfaction, I bear tes- timony to my old fellow soldiers, and ci- tizens, that I find solid ground to rely upon the clemency of our sovereign, and abun- dant conviction, that it is the generous intention of Great Britain, not only to leave %\w f --L ■•.'-i.i 240 DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. the rights and privileges, of the colonies unimpaired, together with their perpetual exemption from taxation, but to super- add such farther benefits as may consist with the common prosperity of the empire ; in short, I fought for much less than the parent country is willing to grant to her colonies, or such as they can be able to receive and enjoy. ** Some may think I continued in the strug- gle of the unhappy days too long, and others that I quitted it too soon. — To the first I reply, that I did not see with their eyes, nor perhaps had so favourable a situ- ation to look from, and that by our common master I am willing to stand or fall. In behalf of the candid among the latter, some of whom I believe serve blindly, but ho- nestly, in the band I have left, I pray God to give them all the light requisite to consult their own safety before it is too late : M DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. S41 and with respect to the herd of censurers, whos eenmity to me. originates in their hatred to the principles by which I am now led to devote my life t& the reunion of the British Empire, and as the best and only means to dry up the streams of misery that have de- luged this country, they may be assured that conscious of the rectitude of my in- tentions, I shall treat their malice and ca- lumnies with contempt and neglect. . ' •u- B. ARNOLD. Besides this address to the inhabitants at large, General Arnold issued a proclamation to his late brethren in arms, wherein he says " You are promised liberty, but is there an individual in the ei\joyment of it, except your oppressors? Who among you dare speak, or write, what he thinks against the tyranny which has robbed you of your property, imprisons your persons, drags you forcibly to the field of battle, and is B t\m $42 VAftRATtVE OFtHfi h daily deluging y6ur country, with your blood? You are flattered with indepen- dance, as preferable to a redress of grievances; and to obtain that shadow you forego sub- stantial happiness, and involve yourselves in all the wretchedness of poverty. The rapacity of your own rulers has already ren- dered you incapable of supporting the pride of character they taught you to aim at, and must, inevitably, shortly belong to one or other of these great powers which their folly and wickedness have drawn into the conflict. What is America now ? a band of widows, orphans, and beggars ; and can you, who have been soldiers in the conti- nental army, can you, at this day want evi- d'^nce that the funds of your country are exhausted, or that the managers have ap- plied them to their own private use ? In cither dase, you surely no longer continue in this service with honour, and advantage; you have hitherto been their supporters in r DEAT3 OF MAJOR A}TpRE. 243 your epen- mces; ) sub- rselves The dy ren- e pride at, and one or h their nto the iband of and can e conti- vant evi- intry are lave ap- use ? In ntinue in ivantage ; porters in that cruelty, which, with an equal indiffe- rence to yours, as well as to the labour and blood of others, is devouring a nation that from the moment you quit their colours, will be redeemed from their tyranny. The effect of the address and proclama- tion was various. They gave infinite satis- faction to the moderate, and those who were the advocates for peace, in the reunion of the empire, while they opened the eyes of the uninfijrmed ; yet on the other hand, they stimulated the advocates for inde- pendence, to the most violent exertion ; and those who were th« unhappy victims of their power, felt all the force and influence of their vengeance. Many matters of the most interesting nature, respecting the state of public concerns, and congress, were never, at any period of the war, involved in such an entangled labyrinth of embarrass- ments. Two parties agitated the congress, r2 i-\\\:. % 244 KARRAtlVE OF THE the one adhered implicitly to the advice o General Washington, the other party were apprehensive of laying the foundation for a standing army, which they considered de- structive to the liberties of a free people, and were unwilling to give a sanction to its influence, by encreasing the military force in the number already enlisted to serve dur- ing the war. As with individuals, so political bodies, and states, when their affairs fall to the lowest ebb, they are either sunk into de- spondency, or are roused to more vigorous exertions ; and there cannot be a more true test of this observation in communities, than when their public measures are stained with a spirit of bitterness. Under the in- fluence of this principle, the legislature of the state of New York, passed an act con- verting the testimony which was necessary tQ convict in a charge of treason, to wit, by DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 24i two evidences, to each separate overt act : and by another clause, made the testimony in cases of felony sufficient to criminate in treason ; and to suffer the act to operate as well to the past, as all future treasons that might be committed ; contrary to ancient usage, and the established law of the land. The established principles upon which the Federal government acted in the consti- tution of general government of the United States, are as follows : and these articles of the constitution of America, were entered into by a convention of only nine of the states held at New York, end transmitted for their approbation, by General Washing- ton who was president of this convention, and from which I shall make a few ex- tracts. m •r Article i. Section 9. — The privileges of the habeas corpus shall ^iiot be suspended, unless 245 KARRATIYE OF THE when "m cases of rebellion, or !n"a;?ion, the public safety may require 'L No bill of attainder or expost fl^r^to law shall be na^^ed. Articls lit. Section 1, — The judicial power of the United States, shall be vested in one supreme court, and in such inferior courts, as the congress m< >y from time to time ordain and establish. The judges both of the supreme and infe- rior courts, shall hold their oiHces dur- ing good behaviour, and shall at stated times receive for their services a com- pensation, which shall not be dimi- nished during their continuance in office. Section 2. — The judicial power shall ex- tend to all cases in law, and equity, arising under this constitution, the laws of the United States and treaties DEATH OF MAJOR ANDJIE. 247 made, or which shall be made, under their authority; to all cases afTecting ambassadors, other public ministers, and consuls, to all cases of admiralty maritime jurisdiction : to controversies to which the United States may be a party, to controversies between two or more states, between a state and ci- tizens of another state, between citi- zens of different states ; between ci- tizens of the same state claiming lands, under grants of different states, or be- tween a state or citizens thereof, and foreign states, citizens or subjects. In al! cases affecting ambassadors, or other public ministers and consuls, and those in which a state shall be party, whe supreme court shall have original jurisdiction. In all the other cases be- fore-mentioned, the supreme court shall have appellate jurisdiction both as to I M I! 248 NARRATIVE OF THE law, ^nd fact, with such exceptions, and under such regulations, as congress shall make. The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury ; and such trial shall be held in the state, where the said crimes shall have been committed ; but when not committed in any state, the trial shall be at such place or places as the congress may by law have directed. Section 3. — Treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted of treason unless on the testimony of two wit* nesses to the same overt act, or con- fession in open court. The congress shall have power to declare the punishment of treason ; but no at- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 249 tainder of treason shall work corruption of blood, or forfeiture, except during the life of the person attainted. Article iv. Section 1. — Full faith and credit, shall be given in each state to the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other state ; and the congress may by general laws, prescribe the man- ner, in which such acts, records, and preceedings, shall be proved, and the effect thereof. Section 2.— The citizens of each state shall be entitled to all privileges and im- munities of citizens in the several states. A person charged in any state with trea- son, felony, or other crime, who shall fly from justice, and shall be found in another state, shall on demand of the executive authority of the state from which he fled, be delivered up, to be m .1 260 NARRATIVE OF TIIE removed to the state having jurisdic- tion of thccrime. The congress shall have power to dispose and make all needful rules, and regu- lations, respecting the territory, or other property belonging to the United States ; and nothing in this constitution, shall be so construed as to prejudice any claims of the United States, or of any particular state. ' Done in convention by the una- nimous consent of the states present, the seventeenth day of September, in the Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty-seven, and of the Independence of the United States of America, the twelfth. GEORGE WASHINGTON, President, I have taken the liberty of making the above extracts, as it plainly exhibits the in- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 251 justice and asperity exercised on this oc- casion, against myself, and wliicb was in some instances practised on others ; an in- justice so totally repugnant to the general principles from which the opposition to Great Britain first started, and to which they returned, as appears in the above-recited solemn acts, at the conclusion of the War. That which was law and the rule of right to-day, was renounced the succeeding, as policy dictated the application to the party interested on the occasion ; indeed it was difficult to know what the law really was. m On the conclusion of this campaign, tlie importance of West Point became more the object of attention, and General Washington the better to guard this Gibraltar of America, as it was not inaptly termed, removed his head quarters to New Windsor, in the vi- cinity ; so that from the window where I was confined, I had the daily mortification 259 NARRATIVE OF THE to see the troop of horse which conveyed mc from the camp of Totowa Bridge to Stony Point, pass and repass with some new un- happy victim to political rage, not without apprehension that some severe measures, in consequence of tampering with any new witnesses, might again place me under mi. litary tyranny. One morning as I was ru- minating on my miserable situation, I was roused by my goal door being suddenly forced open, and I was challenged by the sheriff to know if I had any hand in the business of aiding the Tory prisoners to affect their escape from the dungeon ? Alarmed at the question, and the infor* mation it communicated, I replied. That he well knew from my infirm state, it was impossible I could give them any assistance ; this he granted, but said, in reply, that although 1 oould render them no personal assistance,! might direct some of my agents to do it ? adding, th^ h^ would take care, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. Q5S I should have no further communicQtion .with any person, and that I might expect a military guard again very soon, to take charge of me. In this state of mental ap- prehension I was detained, for some time. 'H rjl The circumstance here alluded to was as follows : — There were a number of persons who were taken in arms, amounting to some hundreds, who were goin^to join the King's : troops in Canada ; these were residents of the Western settlements, where the country being thinly inhabited, they had no jails, or, at least, none large and strong enough to contain the number of persons that were cap- tured, and who were therefore brought to . this place for greater security. Among them were some of the most daring and hardy people, belonging to Colonel Brand and . Butler's corps of Whites and Indians ; fifty of these were crowded in a small cell, which had a window grated with strong bars of f vm i 234 NARRATIVE OF THE i»x)n, and a centinel to watch it. Notwith- standing his vigilance, however, some im. plements were conveyed to the prisoners, who, in the night, by gentle degrees, picked away the mortar from the heavy foundation- stones, and in the course of one night, made an aperture large enough to admit a man of almost any size to pass through, which they all did, and effected their escape. U To this event I was presumed to be an accomplice, and was consequently watched with more severity, as well as deprived of those occasional indulgences to which I had been accustomed. About this time the quarter sessions and county court sat, when I petitioned it for my discharge by proclamation, which was, heretofore, the law of the land, while, two courts having previously sat, I was clearly entitled to the prayer of the petition. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 2i5 The answer to it, however, was, that I could not be heard, nor the prayer of the petition granted, until the direction of the commissioners of conspiracy had been ob- tained. I will here beg leave to remark, that the warrant of my commitment to the sheriff, was for my safe custody, until discharged by due course of law. — Here, again, was another violation of the ancient system of law, and directly repugnant to the new con- stitution of the state. IS m \m Soon after this was another conspiracy found out, consisting of a number of per- sons, who were -supposed to be sent from New York, to persuade the blacks to desert from their masters, in this part of the country ; great numbers of whom, availing themselves of the British troops being in pos- session of Stony Point, which lay contiguous 266 NARRATIVE OF THE to the mountains of the Highlands, hdd plundered their masters, sought refuge in that part, and afterwards gone to New York, where they were emanci pated . A farmer, in the vicinity of the jail, having retaken one of these black rene^rdoes, who, through the channel described, was endeavouring to make himself as independent as his master, had confined him in it, in the hope of bring* ing him to a sense of his duty. He was (r nsidering the few advantages he had had of improving his mind,) possessed of singular endowments ; and had. safficient address to persuade his master, that if he would permit his hand -cuffs to be taken off, he would re- turn home with him, and faithfully re-enter into his service. The master, who felt dis- posed to relax in his severity, ordered the irons to be removed ; but wished to have some better proof of his sincerity than his mere word, and, therefore, still kept him in confinement, fearing, as he was a desperate i.jn DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 257 fellow, he might do him, or his family, some injury; for when re-taken, he was in com- pany with another, who had left the famous blockhouse, near Fort Lee, in Bergon woods, and, in revenge for former ill usage, had privately passed through the wood, and shot his master. This was the blockhouse so very unsuc> cessfully attacked by General Wayne, with the flower of the Continental troops, de* fended principally by negroes^ deserters from their masters, aod which was the subject of the severe satirical poem, railed the " Cow Chace,** written by the unfortunate Major Andre. The black man being thus indulged by his master, by degrees had greater liberties granted him, preparatory to his being taken home ; he was permitted to do menial offices for the jail-keeper, into whose confidence he s ,il3l^l m m M 2o8 NARRATIVE OF THE Cf-: had insinuated himself, and thereby was en- trusted with dehvering the provisions to the prisoners, and was the person who provided those, I have mentioned, with the tools, by which they effected their escape from the dungeon. Being among the number of unfortunate prisoners confined in that jail, I found this man, in the absence of my servant, very useful and attentive, in rendering me many little services, for which he would receive no remuneration, and which, being observed by the jailor, engendered a strong suspicion of my being a party in the plot ; but this sus- picion did not end here : it was industriously circulated that there were evidences who were prepared to prove it ; and I was cre- dibly informed that a deserter from the con- vention troops had actually sworn before a justice of the peace, that he overheard me advise this black man to make his escape as DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 259 sodn as he could, and that I had offered him money to help him on hisway to New York.; as well as to give him directions where he might be secreted on the road, and procure a guide through the mountains. Alarir ed at these infamous designs, I de- termined to lose no time in .contriving the means for my own security, by every opportunity that should offer. A few days after, another special court of oyer and ter- miner and general goal delivery was notified to sit, and the supreme court of judicature for the trial of causes, with an accompanying jurisdiction within a fortnight. I I therefore, sought the earliest opportu* nity to inform m> wife of my determination to effect my e<»cape : she did not long he- sitate to come to me from Haverstraw and confirm me in my resolution. S 2 M # 260 NARRATIVE OF THE »W'! There was a lady in the village who had given me assurances that if once I could find an opportunity to quit the jail, she would secure me until I could procure a guide to conduct me in safety to any place of sccuri ty . This lady had long sympathized in my distresses; she had suffered much by the war, particularly on account of the loss of her husband, whose life had been most unjustly taken away for his allegiance to his sovereign. Mrs. Smith in consequence, informed her of my deter- knination. Fortunately, a few days after, several persons came to see me, as well on business as from friendship, and they having interest with the deputy sheriff, persuaded him to suffer me to come-out of my place of confinement, and sit with them in the op* n court room, in order to transact some busi- ness of a pecuniary nature. A* the bottle was moving briskly round, I thought it a good opportunity t^^ iavouf DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE a6l my de&ign ; there were three in company j and two of them, who were rigid democrats, had become quite inebriated, while the other, my particular friend, was not much better. I affected to be in the same situation. It was now the evening of the 22'' of May and nearly dark ; Mrs. Smith, who had that day been permitted to sit with me in my place of confinement, was anxiously waiting to see if I could avail myself of a fiivourable opportunity ; she sent our servant to say she wished to speak to me, and would not detain me a moment. I apo- logised to my companions, who readily excused my absence, expecting my speedy return. When I came near the door of my prison, I suddenly turned, and, from a wink of my servant, went down a stair-case that was at the side of it, and without delay made to the outer door of the jail, which, not being bolted, I went out, and made all the haste I could, in my very weak state, to m4 % 262 NARRATIVE OF Tl^ 8 church-yard, not far distant, hoping to shelter myself behind the tomb-stones, until any search, that might take place, should be over ; I had not reached the spot more than ten minutes, when I saw the jailor quietly light my companions out, and wish them a good night ; they immediately mounted their horses, and rode gently away. I was astonished that no search was made after me, but knowing the address of Mrs. Smith, I presumed she had exercised her best management ; for, as soon as she was told by the servant of the course I had taken down the stairs, she sent him immediately to inform my companions, that I was too much disguised to rejoin them, and had laid down ; they, therefore, quietly came to the door, wished her a good night, and then mentioned the state they left me in to the jailor, who went up, locked the jail-door, ^nd supposed all was right. ■f- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 263 It now became dark, — and as the jail was fixed at the Point, where four roads met, I had to cross two of them to obtain the place of my appointment, and had nearly gained the second, when I heard the jail-door open, and shut very hard, and, soon after, the sound of persons, as if running with speed ; I knew that, by crossing a fence, I should soon gain a brook, which, at that season, was generally full of water; fear aided my steps, and having reached the stream, I boldly plunged in, gained the opposite bank, and leaning my head against it, could clearly distinguish the sound of people passing the road I had just crossed ; I continued in this state until after midnight, before I thought it prudent to move, for the court being to sit so soon, they generally brought to the town a great concourse of people, to be ia readiness for their different avocations, pre- paratory to trials, &c. At length I pro- ceeded to the house of my protectress, who, ml M A' 964 NARRATIVE OF THE •■•^:,• .V \ : i I* with a sister, were in waiting for my recep- tion, and who received me with tears of sym- pathy on seeing the wet and forlorn state I was in, without hat or shoes. They in- stantly warmed some strong cider with gin- ger for me ; after this refreshment they pro- vided me with a pair of blankets, and con- ducted me to a shed, as a place of security, where there was some straw, and advised ne to take rest — ^but the balmy friend v< af a stranger to my tortured mind, from the anxieties which agitated me for the safety of my amiable wife, who, I knew, from the extreme delicacy of her mind and frame, would suffer in her state of confine- ment, and be solicitous for my safety. She did, indeed, undergo much alarm ; but having a faithful servant with her, she kept him in conversation during the night, which greatly beguiled the time, and helped to mitigate the horrors of the place. When the jailor opened the door in the morningt m DEATH OF»|AJOR ANDRE. 265 the s'-rvant was ready to take up her small trunk ; my wife met him at the door, wished him a good morning, and, passinor t n with the servant, left him to look fc "^ the bed, .vhich she had formed to h ap- pearance of a person lying in it. Before he had discovered that the bird was flown, she was out of the jail; and proceeding directly to the clergyman of the town, threw herself upon his protection. He assured her that, while under his roof, he would prevent her from receiving any injury, though he might not be her surety against insult from the ig- norant rabble, nor could he say how far he might be implicated in law, but that he would exert himself to the utmost in her behalf, as a sincere friend to the family. This clergyman was a humane and good 'man; he was an orthodox Calvinist, a warm advocate for the independence of America, and, being the only clergyman in the town, if 4! IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (^ST-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 L&I2.8 |2.5 ■50 "^^ RIl^B ^ U& 12.0 12.2 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.V USSO (716)873-4503 v ;V 4 N? \ \ ,-*^. ^.>^ •<^ ^. \ 1^ 5> i66 NARRATIVE OF THR he, for the two last reasons, possessed great influence, and was therefore better able to protect Mrs. Smith, than any other person she could have applied to in her dilemma. She had scarcely taken refreshment, when she was followed by the sheriff. He had previously been to the inn, where, finding her carriage and horses, he seized them for confiscation; and her servant, the same that was in jail with her, informed him where his mistress was to be found, when all being secured, he came in quest of her. .His first address, on entering the clergy- man's house, was insolent in the highest de- gree ; he was, however, checked by her ve- nerable friend, and becoming more mode- rate, he declared that if she did not instantly inform him where her husband was, he would detain her until I was secured ; that he would have me, dead or alive ; that he had|iarties out on every road ; and that thos^ DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 26r who succeeded in my apprehension, would receive one hundred dollars for their trouble. Finding herself protected, Mrs. Smith boldly answered, that she had reason to believe I was by that time far out of his reach, that in what she had done she was well advised by the first counsel at law in the state, and defied the exercise of his power as a sheriff, in any thing he could or might do to her pre- judice. In much passion he then left her, charging the clergyman not to suffer her de- parture until he returned, saying, that the attorney-general was shortly to be in the town of Goshen, and that he should take his advice on the subject. The worthy clergyman, with the tenderest humanity, endeavoured to console Mrs, Smith in this embarrassed situation, and succeeded in persuading her to take some rest, which she had not long enjoyed, when ^he was disturbed by the sbtiriff, accom-* 968 NARRATIVE OF THE panied by the state's attorney ; they exerted their combined rhetoric to persuade her to reveal the place of refuge I had sought, and ivhat route I had taken ; finding this of no effect to gain any information, they added threats, and declared, they Would confine her in case of non-compliance; but all this proving ineffectual, they left her in the cus- tody of the clergyman, in the full expecta- tion of my apprehension. Knowing that I was in good hands, and that no further aid could be rendered on her part, Mrs. Smith availing herself v }e ab- sence of the sherifT, and to rid herself of any further importunity, hired a coach, and pro- ceeded to her family at Haverstraw. The whole of this procedure was detailed to me the ensuing evening, to my no small satis&ction, that matters had so far termi- nated well; though my joy was not un- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 969 mixed with pain at the reflection, that so amiable a woman had to encounter so much misery. The shock of my 6rat arrest, and near nine months imprisonment, together with the loss of almost all our property, affected Mrs. Smith to such a degree, as brought on a de- cline, which she never recovered ; and she might truly be said to have died a martyr to grief. if During my residence in this jail, I had many offers to procure my enlargement, but there was no one to be trusted. One un- fortunate prisoner, who endeavoured to escape, was betrayed by his guide, and carried before General Washington. Ano- ther, through the ignorance of his guide, mistaking his route, was taken upon the lines, and, as well as his conductor, was iro KARRATIVE OF TH* I brought back, tried, and sentenced to im« prisonment during the wan After MrSi Smith's dieparture, the most diligent search was made to discover me^ Parties were sent in different directions from the four roads that led from the jail ; but on their return without success, it was con- cluded) I must be secreted in the town, among the King's friends, who were by for the most numerous and respectable of the inhabitants. On the evening of the third day, before my good protectress had, any tint of the measure, a young lady came hastily to her, and informed her, that a few hours ago her fother's house had been searched, and she had heard the party say, they should next take the road where my good friend lived; she instantly came to me with the intelli^nce, and advised my leaving the place where I was for another more secure, DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 271 which was a hollow between two stacks of chimnies; this I did not approve of, as the place had a suspicious appearance, and seemed to me calculated for a hiding-place^ I therefore observed, that as it was near the, evening, I would go out to the woods, and return when dark ; I had scarcely mentioned my resolution, when the young lady called to her, and said the guards were very near the house, — -when instantly snatching up one of my blankets, I stept lightly down the stairs, she following with the other blan- ket; we heard the tramp of a number of steps in the piazza ; — I made immediately to the back-door, and crept under a small hen- coop ; she hastily threw her blanket over it, •r-and, turning round, met the party coming in at the front-door. My protectress being a suspected person, from the reasons I have already mentioned, her house was searched with great care ; and the young lady after wards informed me, that in the very hole 272 NARRATIVE OT THE where 8he wished me to secret myself, they thrust their bayonets and pikes ; so that had I been there, I must, inevitably, have been put to death ! The house being thoroughly searched, they proceeded to the barn, sta* bles, and even the pig-sty ; and passing the hen-coop, under which I was concealed, they were about to take off the blanket, when my protectress exclaimed, " For God's sake do not hurt my poor chickens ;" on which they went into the house, and I could hear them distinctly charge her with knowing where I was ; alarmed, lest her fears might overcome her fortitude, I immediately crept out, and made the best of my wieiy to an ad- joining wood, under the cover of darkness, which had commenced. Having reached the wood, I was involved in doubt what course to take ; to go back did not seem prudent, as on my return, some soldiers might be left as a guard; it DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. S73 they t had been ughly I, sta* ngthe ;ealed, ianket, God»9 I which Id hear flowing I might y crept an ad' rknesa, nvolved sp back return, uard; it now began to rain, and fortunately a large hollow tree offered me a shelter from its rage. A variety of conflicting passions agitated my miiid ; for that very night a per- son was to come and bring me clothing, and take me part of my way to New York, upwards of eighty miles. To omit profiting by this chance, I knew, would be impru- dent ; and the person I expected had pro- mised to assist me, and possessed my most unlimited confidence. At length it occurred to me that the lady, from whose house I had just escaped, had a relation about five miles distant: I knew him to be a kind, friendly man, to whom I could commit my- self with safety. Thither, therefore, I de- termined to proceed ; and when in the main road, I thought I could easily reach his house. I travelled all night ; it rained dur- ing the whole time ; and my feet being ten- der, from the distressing and unusual state in which I was placed^ I made but little ■'^i W»i 374 tfARtLAiiyt Of rut progressr, especially along a slaty and rocky country. When I had walked a consider- able dist^ce I h^ed, intending to wait for the dawn of day ; this advancing slowly, I seated myself on a rock, faint, fatigued, and lacerated with briars, and passed my time in lamenting the hard fate which my civility to a stranger had intailed upon me. On the approach of day I saw something like a house, and the appearance of light ; I advanced towards it:— the reader will here again form some faint idea of my sensations, when I found the spot was near the gibbet, and the house I had discerned was the jail, from whence I had escaped in the dark. I had lost my road; and in my bewildered state of mind, had the whole night been wandering back again, over the same ground!! Afflicted, dismayed, and almost exhausted, I had no other alternative than DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 273 nething f light ; vill here isations, e gibbet, the jail, dark. 1 jwildered ght been he same nd almost ative than to return to the place from whence I had last escaped— and now gave up all for lost ! It was, however, fortunate that I had not far to go, for day-light rapidly advanced ; and I omitted no time in regaining the good wo* man's house, having the main road before me; and being equally fortunate in not meeting a single traveller, or my forlorn appearance must have attracted notice, and, perhaps, have led to a discovery. I observed, on my approach, that there was light in the house, and once more as- suming courage, fortified by hope, I ventured to tap gently at a window from whence the light appeared, and, in a miiaute, the door was opened for my reception. My female friend informed me, that the party, who had been there the preceding day, were not satisfied with their first search, but insisted on making another by candle-light, which they did, and even commanded her to open t8 W 976 KAARATIVE OFTH£ every closet, chest, and trunk, declaring they had authority to confine her, unless she told them where I was, — and that one of them even went again to the chicken -coop, under which I had been concealed, and thrust his bayonet into various parts of it. She said it was well I overheard the conver- sation, and resolved to withdraw ; and she consoled me by saying, I now had nothing to fear, as they had gone away perfectly satisfied, I mentioned my attempt to reach the residence of her relation for shelter, and I had the pleasure to learn that there I should have been safe; but it was providential that I missed my way, for a large party of Conti- nental troops were encamped not far from his house, and I must have passed them before I could arrive at it. Combining all these circumstances, which appeared so providential, I was led, inde- pendent of the fetigue I had just passed DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 277 through) to take some rest in my former birth, with renewed ground to encourage hope. My friend had promised to be with me the following night, but when that came I was sorely disappointed. Through a chink in the place of my retreat, I could see the members of the court, judge, jury, and all, pass and repass; and, indeed, I was every moment in dread of being discovered, and brought back to my old quarters. In this situation I continued, however, five days, under the most painful apprehensions. At length my guide arrived ; he had been very prudently employed in reconnoitring the road, before he would venture to con- duct me. He appointed the ensuing even- ing for my escape, and came punctually, well armed and mounted, with a change of dress for myself, a complete disguise. I 278 NARRATIVE OP THE had no sooner equipped myself, than throw- ing a woman's cloak over me, he took me up behind him, on a strong horse:— -we went ten miles that night, without any in- terruption, meeting many persons we b'^th knew, with whom he conversed ; but they, supposing me to be a woman, some relation of my friend's, did not direct their discourse to me ; he was prepared, if they had done so, to tell them that the woman was deaf ! The name of the place, where we halted, # was Chester, and the man of the house was nicknamed the whisperer, from the circum- stance of his speaking so loud in common conversation, as to be heard at a very great distance. If he had addressed me, I should have been reduced to an auk ward dilemma ; as my pretended deafness would have been no subterfuge. However, he took no notice of me, a neglect for which I felt much obligation. DEATH OF MAJOR ANORE. 279 From the whisperer's we proceeded through a part of the Highland Mountains, passing Sterling and Ringwood iron-works, to the confines of Pumpton Plains, to the bouse of a man who was one of the king's warmest friends, and among the Dutch in- habitants, famed for being louble-jointed, as well as an ambidexter. We found the house ciowded with Continental troops ; my firiend observing the crowd, went in, leaving me at a small distance ; the landlord soon came out, and directed us to a small hovel, at the end of his farm, where he pro- mised he would come, and bring us refresh- ment ; he was not gone long, when he re- turned, and informed us we must change our route, for that the road we proposed going, across Pumpton Plains, was filled with troops going to and from camp, and advised my friend to go towards Pauls- hook, especially as he did not understand the Dutch language, the dialect spoken in 280 NARRATIVE OP THE that part. This we thought most advisable; and my friend took his departure, leaving me in the ambidexter's confidence and pro- tection. The succeeding night, the ambidexter came to me with a good horse, and another for himself; we had then to pass a narrow defile, between two mountains; and he men- tioned to me, that possibly we might at that place be challenged by a centinel, to whona he would answer, and that I might ride on briskly, there being no turning on the road, and he would soon overtake me. When we had gone about five miles, we were sud- denly challenged — " Who comes there ?'^ He answered, " Friends;" and rode up to the person. I gave my horse a free rein, and pressed on ; soon after I heard the dis- charge of a musket, and was overtaken by ambidexter, who, passing, called to me to come on as fast as possible ; he had not rode DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 281 fi mile, when, following close, I saw him turn up on the left, through the woods, in a narrow path, whither I followed. We soon dismounted ; and, after tying the horses to a tree in the valley, he led me through the roughest road imaginable, path inter- secting path, and, from an eminence, shewed me, when day appeared, Tatowa Bridge : he then left me, to go and seek a friend, who would be mine also. It was near night before he returned, accompanied by two men, who were to see me safe into Ponter*s Hook. They brought some provision, and a bottle of spirits, and observed, that they went weekly to New York with country produce, and requested to know what I would give them for their trouble ? I shewed them six moidores, which, I said, was all I then had, but would make up any sum they ^bought right, when we came to New York. Having previously paid ambidexter, I took my leave of him. He told my guides in / 282 NARRATIVE OF THE low Dutch, which I understood, that he was stopped on the road by the centinel, who attempted to seize the bridle of his horse, saying, " that is Smith that has passed," upon which ambidexter jerked the horse's head aside, and gave the centinel a severe blow on the arm, and then left him, to join me. Ambidexter (whom I have seen since, as well as the two men, my new pilots,) recommended me to their special care, assuring them he knew me, and say- ing, they would be well paid, if they con- veyed me safe. We lost no time in going down a steep hill, which brought us by a short cut to Totowa Bridge, My reflections and sensations in passing this bridge, which I had so often crossed to and from my trial, were painful, from the various ideas that successively passed in my mind. One of the men, turning to the other, said in Dutch, " he may now think DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 283 himself safe, for the damned rebels don't often pass that bridge, except in numbers ; for fear of accident, we will take the moun- tain-road." Here they stopped ; and then turning to me, one of them said, " Friend, we must now give you some directions. As we should be suspected if three of us were seen together, I will go first, nearly out of sight ; you follow next, but be sure you have me in view ; if you hear me sing loud, you must jump out of the road into the bushes ; then my partner, having his eye upon you, and seeing you do that, immedi- ately runs to me, knowing that some per- son is coming forward ; if they have seen but two persons on the road, and my partner supplies your place, the two persons are there still : — On the other hand, if he hears or sees any person coming after him, he sings, and you must do the same, go into the bushes, and he will run to supply your place ; I stand still ; and, on their coming, \ 284 NARRATIVE OF THE the two persons seen are my myself.^ •M Understanding them perfectly well, (though, perhaps, these cautionary arrange- ments may not be sufficiently clear to the reader,) we went on, and, in a few hours, reached Aquakinac, on the banks of the Passaic, or, as some call it. Second River, pver which is built Totowa Bridge. Here we entered the house of one of my pilots ; and only in two instances was I obliged to go out of the road, and this was caused by persons whom we met, but from none that overtook us. I was put into a private room, where I had every thing tha^ I could wish for. At length the happy period arrived, when I was to take the last stage of my journey; and on the evening of the 4th of June, 1782,. DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 285 my two pilots crossed this river in a small cedar canoe, or boat, to the opposite shore, whibh \v&s a salt meadow, sometimes over- flowed by the tide, which leaves a muddy slime, over which a hght boat may easily be drawn. We passed a large tract of mea- dow, some miles in length, before we came to another river, called Hackinsack River, on the opposite shore of which, near the foot of Snake Hill, we discovered a party of men, who hailed us ; — not answering, they fired several shot, but they fell far short of us. We now judged it prudent to hide the boat in the sedges, and retire, as they could not pass to us; this being done, we hid ourselves, — ^and, soon after, heard several voUies, appearing to us as if two parties had been attacking each other; this ceasing, we again ventured to the margin of the river, and observing no person on or near the op- posite shore, we boldly launched our bark, knowing that no parties but British would 286 Narrative op the venture to stay there long in broad day* light ; we crossed in safety, and soon reached the town of Bergen, where halting a few minutes for refreshment, we proceeded to Pryor*s Mills, near Paulshook, and were informed by the man of the house, that owing to fresh orders that had been given by Sir Henry Clinton, no person would be permitted to enter New York by that post. Situated as I was, I determined to apply to the centinel; he detained me and the pilots until his relief came, when I wrote a note to the commanding officer, who was fortu- nately colonel of the same regiment that Major Andre belonged to. While detained here. Captain Moody came in with a cap- tured mail of General Washington's dis- patches ; and, soon after, a serjeant and file arrived to carry us across the ferry. From my disguise, he would not believe me to be the person I avowed myself to be ; but as the mail was immediately to go to New •^ bEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 287 York, he promised to report me to the com- mander in chief: his secretary, however, gave me directions where to find my bro-* ther, the chief-justice, he being intimate with the family; and, in a short time after, I was permitted to cross with Captain Moody, and was paraded before head-quarters. My brother was a near neighbour to Sir Henry Clinton.; and his servant, seeing me, told my brother of my situation, who applied to Sir Henry in my behalf, and took me, to my no small joy, to his house. In a few weeks after my arrival, to add to my wretchedness, my family, deprived of their all, were banished to New York. I continued with my brother for several months, endeavouring to obtain some of my own houses, and others belonging to the family estate, which Lieu tenant-General Robertson, then being governor, put into my possession. I continued in the exercise $88 NARRATIVE OF THE ( of my profession, until the evacuation of New York by the British troops, when, through the assistance of Sir Guy Carlton, now Lord Dorchester, I was enabled to ob- tain my passage to England in the Ann, transport, of Whitby, in Yorkshire, under convoy of the Guiana, frigate, (as appears from his lordship's order to Thomas Aston Coffin, Esq. the present commissary-gene- ral, then paymaster of contingencies at New York, from the Audit-Office, Somerset Place,) and landed at Falmouth, in twenty- one days, from New York, which I left on the 5th of November, 1783. This ship re- turned a part of the first division of aux- iliary troops, commanded by Colonel Be- zenrodt, who charged me with dispatches to the Right Honourable Lord North ; and, on my arrival in London, I placed them in the hands of my friend and agent, Gray Elliott, Esq. then Keeper of Plantation Records, at Whitehall, who kindly procured accom- \\ 1)£ATH0FMAJ0R ANDRE. 389 modations for me in Surry-Street, in the Strand. I had not long arrived, before I received an afflicting account of the death of my wife, who, from the first shock, upon my being arrested by order of Washington, had been daily declining in health, which increased in consequence of my compulsive departure at the end of the war, and which terminated her existence on the 1st of January, 1784, with a truly broken heart ; leaving me, her disconsolate survivor, with two helpless chil- dren, after an intercourse of ten years* un- interrupted harmony — an exile, devoid of the soothing consolations of friendship. This last afflictive dispensation, added to the series of calamities I had heretofore endured, prostrated all the barriers philosophy had raised ; melancholy had enveloped my mind, and I was sinking in the glooms of despair, viewing every object through the most ap- u I K I 390 yARRATIVB OF THIS palHng medium; when, providentially, Sir Egerton Leigh, with whom I had the honour ot' an acquaintance in America, found my residence; by his polite and friendly as- siduities, I was roused from a stupor, that had, for the time, destroyed all rational re- flections. I was slowly recovering from this baneful reverie, when 1 was unexpectedly visited by General Arnold. The sudden in- trusion of the man who had occasioned my miseries, excited sensations that I cannot describe, and which I leave to the sugges- tions of a candid world. The reception which he experienced from me, (as publicly mentioned by Captain Roorback, of General Delancey's regiment of New York Loyal- ists,) shortened the interview. ' As I have often mentioned this general, whose conduct and character, whilst the ioemory of the American war exists, will be th^ subjec': of animadversion ; I will here re- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 99l late some circumstances in contradiction to the opinion generally entertained respecting him ; noi that I mean to advocate measures, M'hioU arc- alone justifiable from the secret motives which influenced theit operations ; but I wish that the candid reader may be enabled to form his own opinion from the contrast of the characters drawn. i In one of my first interviews with Gene- ral Arnold, he ludicrously mentioned that he had been stiled by some of the American army a jockey and horse-dealer ; this he denied to have been his original profession ; but declared, he was brought up to the business of an apothecary, which Old Thun- der-Rod, as tlie Americans call Doctor Franklin, (who derived such merit from ex- periments in electricity, collected from the hints of the immortal Sir Isaac Newton,) avers to be the fact , and that he was edu- cated for the profession by Dr. Lothrop, of V 2 292 NARRATIVE OF THE Connecticut, a gentleman of eminence, and estimable character; who, for the fidelity the general displayed during his apprentice- ship, retained him in his employ a consider- able time afterwards, as a mark of his esteem ; and, in remuneration for bis diligent ser- vices^ gave him a reward of £.600 sterling. Being of an active disposition, and detesting the languor of still life, he relinquished the business of an apothecary; and, having ac- quired a competent knowledge of navigation, he embarked his property in the trade usually carried on between the continent and the West Indian islands, reciprocally bene- ficial to each, with various loss and gain, until the disturbances between Great Bri- tain in 1774', when he stepped forward the champion of his country's cause; and for the zeal he discovered for its prosperity, was appointed a colonel by the legisiature of that government. Political disputes in- creasing, daily afforded, on the appeal to DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 293 :e, and fidelity entice- ►nsider- jsteem ; mt ser- sterling. etesting ihed the ving ac- /igation, le trade nent and y bene- nd gain, reat Bri- ward the and for •osperity, gisiaturc putes in- ppea'i to arms as the arbiter, full exercise for the na- tural activity of his disposition ; and early in the succeeding^ vear, he commanded a de- tachment of militia, to prevent the irrup- tions of the Canadians and Savages on Lake Champlain. His indefatigable exertions secured his success; in consideration of which Congress confirmed the appointment he received from the provincial authority. The intrepidity of his genius induced that body to invest him with the separate com- mand of a corps of troops, amounting to twelve hundred choice nien, with whom he was directed, on the 13th of November, 177«5, to cross the Wilderness, from the camp at Cambridge, for the invasion of Canada; and, notwithstanding the most fatiguing hardships, as I have already men- tioned, he arrived before the walls of Quebec on the 1 3th of November, regardless of the approaching inclement season, and sum- moned the town to surrender, with which ii' 'ffiil 1 I S94 NARRATIVE OF THE it would certainly have complied, from the lukewarmness of the Canadians in general, had not this requisition been incompatible with tLe duty and in"incible firmness of the brave and experienced officer who com- manded the garrison ; and on the ju?iction of General Montgomery, on the 1 5th of Decem- ber following, the siege wascommenced with spirit, and subsequently Quebec was stormed ; the issue of which,from the gallant and judi- cious defence made by the besieged, is well known; — Montgomery was killed-^-Arnold wounded, and most of the besiegers made prisoners of war; the clemency they re- ceived from Lord Dorchester— the lenient treatment, and the affecting advice, (instead of warlike rigour) he administered to the prisoners, on dismissing them peaceably to their respective homes, had the most con- ciliating effect, at once coinciding with the humanity, as well as bravery, of their dis- tinguished conqueror. ':i I DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 29i On the march of General Montgomery to join General Arnold, or by the detachment under Colonel Ethan Allen, the unfortunate Major Andre was captured, and sent as a prisoner, with his brother-officers, through a large extent of the Americnn continent, to Trenton, in New Jersey. I remember having seen him at the hospitable table of Colonel Hay, at Haverstraw, v;hose urba- nity was dispensed to all genteel travellers, but I did not recollect the least trace of his countenance when I received him from the Vulture sloop of war. This event enabled him to form some idea of the genius, temper, and political disposition of the American people ; and it was in this situation that he made the reference to his amiable friend's picture, which he stiled his talisman. But I must return from this digression to the character of General Arnold.— He as- sured me he was descended from a gent4e« r I 296 NARRATIVE OF THE man of the same name, who was one of the first Governors of Rhode Island, but his immediate progenitor, by occasion of many losses in trade, failed, some time before his death, leaving the general to the wide world friendless and unprotected. Determined to be the faher sua fortuniB, he lost no oppor- tunity that offered ; and when they did not take notice of him, he courted them by all honest exertions to advance his fortunes, holding in view the poet's sentiment : Honour and fume from no condition rise, ' Act well your part — there all the honour lies. The ingratitude and injustice of his coun- trymen, and the illiberal treatment his lady received from Mr. Read, the Governor of Pennsylvania, were among the reasons he assigned, in his declaration, for his defec- tion, and which he deemed sufficient to alienate his attachment from a cause wherein the private interest of a few leading indi- viduals seemed to him to be more the ob- DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 297 ject contemplated, in protracting the war, (after the overtures of the peace-commis- sioners of 1778 had done away all obstacles to a permanent re-union of the empire, upon the broad basis of reciprocal benefits,) than the good of his fellow-citizens, whom he saw plunged into the most forlorn misery, from which nothing but the relenting cle- mency and generosity of the British govern- ment could extricate them — and not the perfidious allurements of their impotent ally, who looked with a covetous eye to the re-possession of their former territory in Canada, from which they were averted by the vigilance of Washington, who pene- trated their designs, and wisely avoided miseries similar to those he experienced in Praddock's defeat. Mankind differ as much in their political as religious sentiments. It is a proof of an ingenuous mind to retract from error, the li M 298 NARRATIVE OF THE moment it is discovered. These sentiments General Arnold avowed as the cause of his change of views, and not the auri sacra /antes, with which, it is said, Doctor Frank- lin charged him; — ^but he, likewise, has met with his political enemies, who assert that, with bis coadjutor, Tom Paine, he disseminated those principles which deluged his country in blood. The philosopher, as well as the soldier, has paid the debt to Nature — peace to their manes! Political prejudices are, of all others, the most diffi- cult to be removed. There never was a contest that admitted more pretext for diver- sity of opinion : — General Arnold's conduct is reprobated by some, and as strongly ad- vocated by others ; not standing upon the same eminence of information, all men do not see with equal light; — both friends and enemies, however, concur in doing justice to General Arnold's merit, as a man of rare valour, and a gallant officer. bEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 299 timents ; of his 7 sacra Frank- (e, has [) assert ne, he leluged her, as iebt to Political St diffi. was a r diver- onduct gly ad- 3on the nen do ids and justice of rare To delineate the character of the unfor- tunate Major Andre — to view him in the vivacity of his fancy, the elegance of his taste, or the powers of his mind, in all the rich felicities of his genius, as a literary character, or his military capacity, in both maturing to the highest eclat, and to render tributary justice to his worth, requires ta- lents beyond common eulogy. The vir- tuous and liberal contemplate, with intel- lectual luxury, the meritorious dispositions of their fellow-citizens ; the principles of benevolence they possessed, expand and elevate our ideas of the human character, — and, while we analise their superior excel- lence, stimulate to copy their bright ex- ample, and direct our views to the Author of all that is estimable in man. The portrait of Major Andre presents the image of his mind, and is the index of the goodness of his heart. To those who knew 'i h 1,^ i ISj l^l ni H.ll m ,'300 NARRATIVE OF THE him, the animation of his countenance, the impressive force of his genius, the graceful- ness of his manner, the enlivening intelH- gence of his converse, is at once expressed and felt — he was rapid in his penetration, and expansive in his coniprehension — his intellectual resources, from the clearness of his conception and arrangement, were promptly at command; hence, with a na- tural desire to please, the attractions of his personal accomplishments gave a zest and charm to his conversation, and soon con- verted simple esteem into the dignity of friendship — urbanity, in its highest extent, was a qualification of the least intrinsic value he possessed — the scrupulous recti- tude of his mind, the truth and inviolable integrity of his heart, invariably governed by reason, and sanctioned by religion, regu- lated his principles of honour, and were conspicuous in the habits of his life — his social conviviality was uncontaminated by DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 301 intemperance, and levity or indecorum at no time sullied his wit or gaiety — his exten- sive knowledge of human nature, and com- mand of himself, qualified him as the soothing companion of the afflicted, to be serious with the elderly, sprightly with the gay, and facetious with the juvenile — by his learning he softened the austerities of phi- losophy; and his taste in selecting his amusements, gave an additional pleasure to their enjoyment — his beneficence was en- hanced by the prompt anticipation of the favour he meant to confer; and his denials were mitigated by a suavity of manner, that almost seemed a compliance of favour — to him might justly be api)lied the reputation given of Agricola by Tacitus, — " Quicqiiid ex Agricola. amavimus^ quicquid mirali sii- 7nus, tnanet mansur unique est in animis hominunu m ®s Whatever in Andre was the object of our It! 302 NARRATIVE OF THE love and admiration, remains ; and will re« main in the hearts of all who knew him. With such qualifications, added to the bril- liancy of his military talents, which invited the esteem and patronage of Sir Henry Clin- ton, (whose happiness was ever to reward merit,) who could be surprised that his vir- tues, and the gallant spirit with which he terminated his career, should deserve the monument erected to his memory — impe- riously extract the involuntary tear — and demand the panegyric of an enemy? — Or even inspire the elegant pencil of England's favourite Muse, to celebrate the deathless name of a British officer, whose prowess and talents will live in the memory of the brave, the generous, and the good, as long as the historic page shall record his unsul- lied fame? Britons know how to judge, appreciate, and grant the laureled meed, to decorate the DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 303 brow of genuine worth ; nor will there ever be wanting among the gallant race those who will cherish the memory, imitate the virtues, and sprinkle with the tributary tear the ashes of departed merit. — *' Non cane- mu8 surdis respondent et omnia silvice. I shall finally conclude this narrative with the following documents, which will satisfy many individuals to whom I am un- known, as to the sense which the Govern- ment at that time entertained of my unme- rited sufferings on their account, and which will also completely refute the gross calumny which, at the commencement of this volume, I quoted from a public magazine :— . f? i Certificates by Order of the Honourable Board of Commissioners for Auditing Public Accounts. . I hereby certify, that upon the examina • ii' i 30-^ NARRATIVE OF THBJ tion of the vouchers belonging to thef declared account of Colonel Roaer Morris, Inspector of Claims of Refu- gees at New York, it appears that Joshua H. Smith, Esq. was allowed a Dolhr per dieniy pursuant to the or- ders of their Excellencies Sir Henry Clinton, K. B. and Sir Guy Carlton, K. B. commanders in chief in North America, in the years 1781, and 1782. Audit-Office^ Somerset- Placet Oct. 26. \9B7. J. L. MALLET, Sec. And it also appears in the declared ac- count of Thomas Aston Coffin, Esq. as Paymaster of Contingencies at New York and Halifax, from the 1st of February, 1783, to the 24th of April, 1784, that Joshua H. Smith, Esq. was allowed at the rate of Seven Shillings per diem, from the 1st of January, to the 31st of March, 1733; and from lU DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE 305 Refu- , that owed le or- [lenry arlton, North 1782- iT, Sec. thence to the Slst of December follow- ing ; which last payment was to enable him to return to England, by order of the Commander in Chief, Sir Guy Carlton, K. B. Audit-Office, Somerset- 1. L. MALLET, Sec. Place, Jan. 1% 1903, CONCLUSION OF THE NARRATIVE. X m IS MONODY ON THE DEATH OF MAJOR JOHN ANDRE, BY MISS SEWARD. b ft n h 3'i I ill TO HIS EXCELLENCY SIR HENRY CLINTON, ■li KItlGHT OF THE BATH. Sir WITH the zeal of a religious enthusiast to his murdered saint, the author of this mournful eulogium consecrates it to the memory of Major Andre, who fell a martyr in the cause of his king and country, with the firm intrepidity of a Roman, and the amiable resignation of a Christian heru. Distant awe and reverence prevent her offering these effusions of gratitude to the beneficent and royal patron of the Andre family. May Mr. Andre's illustrious ge- neral, the guardian of his injured honour, his conspicuous and personal friend, deign ! fl />A^^. 310 to accept them from One, who was once happy in the friendship of the glorious SUFFEEER. Your Excellency's most obedient humble servant, ANNA SEWARD. 311 TO MISS SEWARD, m IMPROMPTU. AS Britain mourn'd, with all a mother's paiu, Two sons, two gallant sons, ignobly slain ! Mild Cook, by >iavage fury robb'd of breath. And martial Andre doom'd to baser death ! The Goddess, plung*d in grief too vast to speak, Hid in her robe her tear-disBgur*d cheek. \i The sacred Nine, with sympathetic care, Survey'd the noble mourner's dumb despair; While from their choir the sighs of pity broke, The Muse of Elegy thus warmly spoke; " Take injur'd parent, all we can bestow, ** To sooth thy heart, and litigate thy woe ! " I Speaking, to earth the kind enthusiast came. And veird her heavenly power with Seward's name: And that no vulgar eye might pierce the truth, Proclaim'd herself the friead of Andre's youth. u 312 In that fair semblance, with such plaintive fire. She struck the chords of her pathetic lyre : The weeping Goddess owns the blest relief. And fondly listens, with subsiding grief ; Her loveliest daughters lend a willing ear. Honouring the latent Muse with many a tear. Her bravest sons, who in their every vein Feel the strong pathos of the magic strain. Bless the inchanting lyre, by glory strung. Envying the dead, who are so sweetly sung. W. HAYLEY. ■~w 313 MONODY ■1 1 i J if 1' ON MAJOR ANDRE. I J_jOUD howls the storm ! the vex'd Atlantic roars ! Thy Genius, Britain, wanders on its shores ! Hears cries of horror wafted from afar, And groans of Anguish, mid the shrieks of War ! Hears the deep curses of the Great and Brave, Sigh in the wind, and murmur on the wave ! O'er his damp brow the sable crape he binds. And throws his * victor-garland to the winds ; Bids haggard Winter, in her drear sojourn, Tear the dim foliage from her drizzling urn ; With sickly yew unfragrant cypress twine, And hang the dusky wreath round Honour's shrine. Bids steel-clad Valour chace his dove-like Bride, Enfeebling Mercy, from his awful side ; i m * Victor-garland-^AWnditif to the conquest by Lord Corn* wallis. 314 Where long she sat, and check'd the ardent rein, As whirl'd his chariot o'er th' embattled plain ; Gilded with sunny smile her April tear, RaisM her white arm and Ktay'd th* uplifted spear , Then, in her place, bids Vengeance mount the car, And glut with gore th' insatiate Dogs of War !— With one pale hand the • bloody scroll he rears, And bids his Nations blot it with their tears ; And one, extended o'er th' Atlantic wave. Points to his Andre's ignominious grave! And shall the Muse, that marks the solemn scene, *• As busy Fancy lifts the veil between," Refuse to mingle in the awful train. Nor breathe with glowing zeal the votive strain ? From public fame shall admiration fire The boldest numbers of her raptur'd lyre To hymn a Stranger ? — and with ardent lay Lead the wild Mourner round Iriti^^pi^ifiorai, While Andre fades upon his dreary biei;, And t Jvlia's only tribplP^ii^r tear? .A * Bloody tcnU.~~The Comt-Martial decree, sigoed at Tappan, for Mayor Andre's execution. t Julia. — The name by which Mr. Andre addressed the Au> thor in his correspondence with her. 315 Dear, lovely Youth ! whose gentle virtues stole Thro* Friendship's softening medium on her soul ! Ah no ! — with every strong resistless plea, Rise the recorded days she paes'd with thee. While each dim shadow of o*erwhelming years, With Eagle-glance reverted. Memory clears. BelovM Companion of the fairest hours That rose for her in Joy's resplendent bow'rs. How gaily shone on thy bright Morn of Youth The Star of Pleasure, and the Sun of Truth ! Full from their source descended on thy mind £ach gen'rous virtue, and each taste reiin'd. Young Genius led thee to his varied fane. Bade thee ask * all his gifts, nor ask in vain ; Hence novel thoughts, in ev'ry lustre drest Of pointed wit, that diamond of the breast ; Hence glow'd thy fancy with poetic ray. Hence music warbled in thy sprightly lay ; * All his gifts.— y[r. Andre had coiiBpicuoui: talents for Poe- try, Music, and Painting. The Newspapers mentioned a satiric poem of his upon the Americans, which was supposed to have stimulated their barbarity towards him. Of his wit and viva- city, the letters subjoined to this work afford ample proof. They were addressed to the author by Mr. Andre when he was a youth of eighteen. 1 * I 316 And hence thy pencil, with his colours warm, Caught ev'ry grace, and copied ev'ry charm. Whose transient glories beam on Beauty's sheelc. And bid the glowing Ivory breathe and speak. Blest pencil ! by kind Fate ordain'd to save Honoea's semblance from * her early grave. Oh ! while on f Julia's arm it sweetly smiles. And each lorn thought, each long regpret -beguiles, Fondly she weeps the hand, which form'd the spell. Now shroudless mould'ring in its earthy cell ! But sure the Youth, whose ill-starr'd passion strove With all the pangs of inauspicious Love, Full oft' deplor'd the fatal Art, that stole The jocund freedom of its Master'u soul ! While with nice hand he mark'd the living grace. And matchless sweetness of Honora's Face, • Early grace,— Miss Honora S , to whom Mr. Andre's attachment was of such singular constancy, died in a coniump- tion a few months before he suffered death at Tappan. She had married another Gentleman four years after her engagement with Mr. Andre had been dissolved by parental authority. t Julia's arm. — Mr. Andre drew two miniature pictureo of Miss Honora S ■■ on his first acqnaintance with her at Bux- ton, in the year 1769, one {w himself, the other for the author of this poem. S17 Th* enamour'd Youth the faithful traces blest. That barb'd the dart of Beauty in his breast ; Around his neck th* enchanting Portrait hung, While a warm vow burst ardent from his tongue, That from his bosom no succeeding day, No chance should bear that Talisman away. 'Twas thus * Apelles bask'd in Beauty's blaze, And felt the mischief of the stedfast gaze ; Trac'd with disordered hand Campaspe's charms. And as their beams the kindling Canvas warms. Triumphant Love, with still superior art. Engraves their wonders on the Painter's heart. ll I' lit Dear lost Companion ! ever constant Youth ! That Fate had smil'd propitious on thy Truth ! Nor bound th' ensanguin'd laurel on that brow Where Love ordain'd his brightest wreath to glow ! Then Peace had led thee to her softest bow'rs. And Hymen strew'd thy path with all his flow'rs ; Drawn to thy roof, by Friendship's silver cord. Each social Joy had brighten'd at thy board; !! u * Two* thus Apelles,'— Trior is very elegant upon this circum- ■tanc« in an Ode to his friend Mr. Howard, the painter. ■^Jt'' S18 Science, and soft Affection's blended raj's Hud shone unclouded on thy lengthen'd days ; From hour to hour thy taste, with conscious pride, Had mark'd new talents in thy lovely Bride; Till thou hadst own*d the magic of her face Thy fair Honora's least engaging grace. Dear lost Honora ! o'er thy early bier Sorrowing the Muse still sheds her sacred tdir ! The blushing llose-bud in its vernal bed. By Zephyrs funn'd, by glist'ring Dew-drops fed, In June's i^ay morn that scents the ambient air, Was not more sweet, more innocent, or fair. Oh ! when such pairs their kindred Spirit find. When Sense and Virtue deck each spotless Mind, Hard is the doom that sliall the union break. And Fate's dark billow rises o'er the wreck. Now Prudence, in her cold and thrifty care, Frown'd on the Maid, and bade the Youth despair; For Pow'r Parental sternly saw, and strove . To tear the lily-bands of plighted Love ; Nor strove in vain ; — but while the Fair-One's sighs Disperse, like April-storms in sunny skies. The firmer Lover, with unswerving truth. To his first passion consecrates his Youth ; :i\9 Tho' four long years a night of absence prove, Vet riope'4 soft Star shone trembling on his Love;' Till *hov'ring Rumour chas'd the pleasing dream And veil'd with Haven-wing the silver beam. " Hon DBA lost ! my happy rival's Bride ! ** Swell ye full Sails ! and roll thou mighty Tide ! «* O'er the dark Waves forsaken Andre bear ** Amid the volleying Thunders of the War ! " To win bright Glory from my Country's Foes, ** E'en in this ice of Love, my bosom glows. ** Voluptuous London ! in whose gorgeous bow'rs " The frolic Pleasures lead the dancing Hours, *' From Orient-vales Sabean-odours bring, ** Nor ask her roses of Uie tardy Spring ; •♦ Where Painting burns the Grecian Meed to claim, ** From the high Temple of immortal Fame, *< Bears to the radiant Goal, with ardent pace, *' Her Kauffman's Beauty, and her Reynold's grace ; •' Where Music floats the glitt'ring roofs among, ** And with meand'ring cadence swells the song, ** While Sun-clad Poesy the Bard inspires, " And foils the Grecian Harps, the Latian Lyres.— • //onViHg ltumo«r.— The tidings of Honera'R IVfarriage. Upon that event Mr. Andre quitted his profession as a merchant, and joined our army in America. ll .1' m «".« • li Ji 220 tt " Ye softening Luxuries ! ye polish'd Arts ! Bend your enfeebling rays on tranquil hearts! I quit the Song, the Pencil, and the Lyre, White robes of Peace, and Pleasure's soft attire, To seize the sword, to mount the rapid car. In all the proud habiliments of War.— HoNORA lost ! I woo a sterner Bride, The arm'd Bellona calls me to her side ; Harsh is the music of our marriage strain ! It breathes in thunder from the western plain ! Wide o'er the wat'ry world its echoes roll. And rouse each latent ardor of my soul. And tho' unlike the soft melodious lay. That gaily wak'd Honora's nuptial day. Its deeper tones shall whisper, e'er they cease. More genuine transport, and more lasting peace ! ** Resolv'd I go ! — nor from that fatal bourn *' To these gay scenes shall Andre's step return ! " Set is the star of Love, that ought to guide ** His refluent Bark across the mighty Tide ! ** But while my Country's Foes, with impious hand, '* Hurl o'er the blasted plains the livid brand " Of dire Sedition ! Oh ! let Heav'n ordain " While Andre lives, he may not live in vain ! 321 ** Yet without one kind farewel, cou'd I roam ** Far from my weeping Friends, my peaceful home, " The best affections of my heart must cease, ** And gratitude be lost, with hope, and peace ! I! ** My lovely Sisters ! who were wont to twine ** Your souls' soft feeling with each wish of mine, •• Shall, when this breast beats high at Glory's call, ** From your mild eyes the show'rs of sorrow fall ?— ** The light of Excellence, that round you glows, ** Decks with reflected beam your Brother's brows ! *« Oh ! may his Fame, in some distinguish'd day, * Pour on that Excellence the brightest ray ! ^!: ** Dim clouds of Woe ! ye veil each sprightly grace " That us'd to sparkle in Maria's face. " My « tuneful Anna to her lute complains, «• But Grief's fond throbs arrest the parting strains. ** Fair as the silver blossom on the thorn, " Soft as the spirit of the vernal morn, ** Louisa, chace those trembling fears, that prove ** Th' ungovern'd terrors of a Sister's love. <* They bend thy sweet head, like yon lucid flow'r, , ** That shrinks and fades beneath the summer's show'i*. rl * Tun^l Anna.-~Mxt» Anne Andre has a poetical talent. Y 353 *• Oh ! smile, my Sisters, on this destined day, ** And with the radiant omen gild my way ! ** And thou, my Brother, gentle as the gale, ** Whose breath perfumes anew the blossom'd vale, ** Yet quick of spirit, as th' electric beam, " When from the clouds its darting lightnings stream, ** Soothe with incessant care our Mother's woes, '* And hush her anxious sighs to soft repose. *' And be ye sure, when distant far I stray ** To share the dangers of the arduous day, ** Your tender faithful amity shall rest " The *last doar record of my grateful breast. • ** Oh ! graceful Priestess at the fane of Truth, *' Friend of my soul ! and guardian of my youth ! *• Skiird to convert the duty to the choice, *• My gentle Mother !— in whose melting voice " The virtuous precept, that perpetual flow'd, ** With Music warbled, and with Beauty glow'd, ** Th} tears!— ah Heav'n! not drops of molten lead, ** Pour'd on thy hapless Son's devoted head, * Last dear record.—'** I have a Mother, and three Sisters, to ** whom the value of my commission wou'd be an object, as the *( loss of Grenada has much affected their income. It is need- " less to be more explicit on this subject, I know your Excel- " lency's goodness." S ee Major Andre's last letter to General Clinton, published in the Gazette. f ij 323 '* "WithTceener smart had each sensation torn \ ** They wake the nerve where agonies are born ! ** But oh! restrain me not !— thy tender strife, ** What wou'd it save ? — alas ! thy Andre's life ! ** Oh ! what a weary pilgrimage 'twill prove ** Strew'd with the thorns of disappointed love ! *' Ne'er can he break the charm, whose fond controul, " By habit rooted, lords it o'er his soul, *♦ If hr"^ he languish in inglorious ease, ** Whe -nee palls, and Pleasures cease to please. ** 'Tis Glory only, with her potent ray, *' Can chace the clouds that darken all his way. ** Then dry those pearly drops that wildly flow, ** Nor snatch the laurel from my youthful brow ! *• The Rebel-Standard blazes to the noon ! ** And Glory's path is bright before thy Son ! ** Then join thy voice ! and thou with Heav'n ordain ** While Andre lives, he may not live in vain ! " ■ : 1 LB n He says !— and sighing seeks the busy strand. Where anchor'd Navies wait the wish'd commaird. To the full gale the nearer billows roar. And proudly lash the circumscribing shore; While furious on the craggy coast they rave. All calm and lovely rolls the distant wave ; y2 r I 394 For onward, as th' unbounded waters spread'^ Deep sink the rocks in their capacious bed, And all their pointed terrors utmost force, But gently interrupts the billows' course. So on his present hour rude Passion preys! So smooth the prospect of his future days ! Unconscious of the storm, thai, grimly sleeps. To wreck its fury on th' unshelter'd deeps ! Now yielding waves divide before the prow. The white sails bend, the streaming pennants glow ; And swiftly waft him to the western plain, Where fierce Bellona rages o'er the slain. Firm in their strength opposing legions stand, Prepar'd to drench with blood the thirsty land. Now Carnage hurls her flaming bolts afar. And Desolation groans amid the war. As bleed the valiant, and the mighty yield. Death stalks, the only victor o'er the field. Foremost in all the horrors of the day. Impetuous* AKi>re leads the glorious way; * Impetuous Andre. ^g-li is in this passage only that fiction has been einpioyed through the narrative of the poem. Mr. Aad)-e 325 ( Tin, rashly bold, by numbers forc'd to yield. They drag him captive from the long-fought field. Around the Hero croud th' exulting bands. And seize the spoils of war with bloody hands ; Snatch the dark plumage from his awful crest, And tear the golden crescent from his breast ; The sword, the tube, that wings the death from far, And all the fatal implements of war ! Silent, unmov'd the gallant Youth survey'd The lavish spoils triumphant ruffians made. The idle ornnment, the useless spear. He little recks, but oh ! there is a fear 'Pants with quick throb, while yearning sorrows dart Thro' his chill frame, and tremble at his heart. •• What tho' Honora's voice no more shall charm! *♦ No more her beamy smile my bosom warm ! '• Yet from these eyes shall force for ever tear *• The sacred Image of that form so dear ?— ** Shade * of my Love ! tho' mute and cold thy charms, Ne'er hast thou blest my happy rival's arms ! was a prisoner in America, soon after his arrival there, but the author is unacquainted with the circumstances of th? action in which he was taken. ' * Shade looinini5 liouours in the tomb, Th' opprobrious tomb your harden'd hearts decreed, While all he ask'd was as the brave to bleed ! Nor other boon the glorious Youth implored. Save the cold mercy of the warrior-sword ! O dark, and pitiless ! your impious hate O'er-whelm'd the Hero in the Ruffian's fate ! Stojit with the * Feloncord the rosy breath ! And venom'd with diegrace the darts of Death ! Remorseless Washinrton ! the day shall come Of ileep repentance for this barb'rous doom ! When injur'd Andre's memory shall inspire A kindling army with resistless fire ; * Felon-cord — " As I suffer in the defence of my country, I ini'st consider this hour as the most glorious of my lif«>. — Re- member that I die as becomes a British Officer, while (he man- ner of my death must reflect disgrace on your Commander." See iVTajor Andre's Ust words, inserted in the Gutieral Evening Post, for Tuesday, November the I4th, 178O. 333 Cach falchiun sharpen that the Britons wield, And lead their fiercest Lion to the field ! t Then, when each hope of thine shall set in night. When dubious dread, and unavailing flight Impel your host, thy guilt-upltraided soul Shall wish untouched the sucred life you stole ! And when thy heart appall'd, and vanqui»h'd pride Shall vainly ask the mercy they Oeny'd, With horror shalt thou meet the fate they gave. Nor Pity gild the darkness of thy grave ! For Infamy, with livid hand shall shed Eternal mildew on the ruthless head! Less cruel far than thou, on Ilium's plain, Achilles, raging for Patroclus slain! When hapless Priam bends the aged knee. To deprecate the victor's dire decree. The nobler Greek, in meltin;^ pity spares The lifeless Hector to his Father's pray'rs. Fierce as he was ; — 'tis Cowards only kno\< Persisting vengeance o'er a fallen foj. ifPI'l U .if But no intreaty wakes the soft remorse, Oh murdered Andre I for thy sacred corse ; Vain were an army's, vain its Leader's sighs !- Damp in the earth on Hudson's shore it Ues ! 334 Unshrouded welters in the wint'ry storm, And gluts the riot of the *Tappan worm ! But Oh ! its dust, like Abel's blood, shall rise. And call for justice from the angry skies ! What tho' the Tyrants, with malignant pride. To thy pale corse each decent rite deny'd ! Thy graceful limbs in no kind covert laid. Nor with the Christian-Requiem soothM thy shade ! Yet on thy grass-green bier soft April-show'rs Shall earliest wake the sweet spontaneous flow'rs ! Bid the blue hare-bell, and the snow-drop there Hang their cold cup, and drop the pearly tear ! And oft, at pensive £ve*s ambiguous gloom, Imperial Honour, bending o'er thy tomb, W^ith solemn strains shall lull thy deep repose. And with his deathless laurels shade thy brows ! Lamented Youth ! while with inverted spear The British legions pour th' indignant tear ! Round the dropt arm the * funeral-scarf entwine, And in their hearts' deep core thy worth enshrine ; * Tappan. —The place where M^jor Andre was executed. Funeral-scarf.— Our whole army in America went into mo urn- ing for Major Andre, a distinguished tribute to his merit- ed 336 While my weak Muse, in fond attempt and vain, But feebly pours a perishable strain, Oh ! ye distinguish'd few ! whose glowing lays Bright Phoebus kindles with his purest rays. Snatch from its radiant source the living fire, And light with ♦Vestal flame your ANDRE'S HAL- LOWED PYRE ! * Vestal ftame. — ^The Vestal fire was kept perpetually burnings and originally kindled from the rays of the sun . m I J H; M LETTERS AttDREBBCD TO THE AUTHOR OF THE FOREGOING POEM, BT MAJOR ANDRE, WHEN HE WAS A YOUTH OF EIGHTEEN. c t t] tl e I t( h in re d: to fr th ar th ^'i LETTER I. Claptortf Oct. 3, I769. >l I From their agreeable excursion to Shrewsbury, my dearest friends are by this time returned to their thrice beloved Lichfield ; once again have they beheld those fortunate spires, the constant vritnesses of all their pains and. pleasures. I can well conceive the emotions of joy which their first appearance, from the neighbouring hills, excites after absence ; they seem to welcome you home, and invite you to reiterate those hours of happiness, of which they are a species of monument. I shall have an eternal love and reve- rence for them. Never shall I forget the joy that danced in Honora's eyes, when she first suewed them to me from Needwood Forest on our return with you from Buxton to Lichfield. I remember she called them the ladies of the valley their lightness and elegance deserve the title. Oh ! how I loved them from that instant ! My enthusiasm concerning X2 I i m 340 them is f {vriied further even than yowr's and HonorR'a, for every object fhat has a pyratnulal form, recall them to my recollection, with •'. sensation, that brings the tear of pleasure "u»co my eyes. Hov/ happy must you have been at Hlnewsbury .' i*5n!y that you tell me, alas ! that dear Honora wa:. not 80 i'vt;ll us you wished during your stay there. — I always iiope ihe best. My impatient spirit rejects every obtruding idea, which I have not fortitude to support. Doctor Darwin's skill, and your tender care will remove that sad pain in her side, which makes writing troublesome and injurious to her ; which robs her poor * Clier Jean of those precious pages, with which, he flatters himself, she would otherwise haye indulged him. So your happiness at Shrewsbury scorned to be in- debted to public amusements — Five Virgins — uriited in the soft bonds of friendship ! How I should have liked to have made the sixth ! But you surprize me by such an absolute exclusion of the Beaux; I cer- tainly thought that when five wi'^e virgins were watch- ♦ A name of kindness, by v.'Vucli Mr. Andre was often called by his mother and sisters, and geuerally adopted by tbe persons mentioned in these letters, > U Il# 341 ing at midnight, it muut have been in expectation of the bridegroom's coming, ffeare at this instant five virgins, writing round the same table— my three sis- ters, Mr. Ewer, and myself. I beg no reflections injurious to the honour of poor Cher Jean, My mo- ther is gone to pay a visit, and has left us in possession of the old coach ; but as for nag&, we can boast of only two long-tails, and my sisters say they are sorry cattle, being no other than my friend Ewer and my- self, who, to say truth, have enormous pig-tails. i = ?1 5 My dear Boissier is come to town \ he has brought a little of the soldier with him, but he is the same honest, warm, intelligent friend I always found him. He sacrifices the town diversions, since I will not par- take of them. We are jealous of your correspondents, who are so numerous. Yet, write to the Andres often, my dear Julia, for who are they that will value your letters quite so much as we value them ?— The least scrap of a letter will be received with the greatest joy ; write therefore, tho' it were only to give us the comfort of having a piece of paper which has recently passed thro' your hands ; Honora will put in a little po^t- cript, were it only to tell me that she is my very sin- 342 cere/rtend, who will neither give me love nor com- fort~>very short indeed, Honora, was thy last post- cript!— — But I am too presumptuous; I will not scratch out, but I unsay ; from the little there was I received more joy than I deserve. — This Cher Jean is an impertinent fellow, but he will grow discreet in time ; you must consider him as a poor novice of eigfi' teetti who, for all the sins he may commit, is suffici- ently punished in the (single evil of being 120 miles from Lichfield. My mother and sisters will go to Putney in a few days to stay some time ; we none of us like Clapton ; 7 need not care, for I am all day long in town ; but it is avoiding Scylla to fall into Charybdis. You paint to me the pleasant vale of Stow iu the richest antamnal colouring: in return I must tell you, that my zephyrs are wafted through cracks in the wainscot; for mur- muring streams I have dirty kennels ; for bleating flocks, grunting pigs; and squalling cats for birds that incessantly warble; I have said something of this sort in my letter to Miss Spearman, and am twinged with the idea of these epistles being confronted, and that I shall recai to your memory the fat Knight's love letters to Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page. 343 Julia, perhaps thou fanciest I am met' —Alas !— B ut I do not wish to make you as doleful as myself; und besides, when I would express the tender feelings of my soul, I have no language which does them any justice; if I had, I should regret that yon could not have it fresher, and that whatever one communicates by letter must go such a round-about way, before it, reaches one's correspondent ; from the writer's heart thro' his head, arm, hand, pen, ink, paper, over many a weary hill and dale, to the eye, head, and heart of the reader. 1 have often regretted our not possessing a sort of faculty which should enable our sensations, remarks, &c. to arise from their source in a sort of exhalation, and fall upon our paper in words and phrases properly adapted to express them, with- out passing through an imagination whose operations so often fail to second those of the heart. Then what a metamorphose should we see in people's stile ! How eloquent those who are truly attached! how stupid they who falsely profess affection ! Perhaps the former had never been able to express half their re- gard ; while the latter, by their flowers of rhetoric, had made us believe a thousand times more than they ever felt— but this is whimsical moralizing. 1 1 '! M !' 'il* I J III My sisters Peuserosos were dispersed on their ar- 344 rival ill towU} by the joy of seeing Louisa and their dear little brother Billy again, our kind and excellent uncle Giradot, and uncle Lewis Andre. I was glad to see them» but they complained, not without rea- son, of the gloom upon my countenance— Billy wept for joy that we were returned, while poor Cher Jean was ready to weep for sorrow. Louisa is grown &till handsomer since we left her. Our sisters, P.Jary and Anne, knowing your partiality to beauty, ar<; afraid that when they shall introduce her to you, she will put their noses out of joint. Billy is not old enough for me to be afraid of in the rival-way, else I should keep him aloof, for his heart is formed of those affectionate materials, so dear to the ingenuous taste of Julia and ker Honora. T sympathize in your resentment against the cano- nical Dons, who stumpify the heads of those good green * people, beneath whose friendly shade so many of your happiest hours have glided away: but they defy them : let them stumpify as much as they please, time will repair the mischief— their verdant arms will again extend, and iuvite you to their shelter. The evenings grow long ; 1 hope your conversation « The trees in the Cathedral walk ia Lichfield. M 34i roi-nd the fire will sometimes fall on the Andres; it will be a great comfort that they arc remembered. AVe chink our glasses to your healths at every meal ; here's to our LichHeldiiin friends, says Nanny;— Oh — h, says Mary ;— with all my soul, say I ;— Allons, cries my mother;— -and the draught seems nectar. The libation made, we begin our uncloying theme, and so beguile the gloomy evening. Mr. and Mrs. Seward will accept my most affection- ate respects. My male friend at Lichfield will join in your conversation on the Andres. Among the nume- rous good qualities he is possessed of, he certainly has gratitude, and then he cannot forget those who so sincerely love and esteem him ; I, in particular, shall always recall with pleasure the happy hours I have passed in his company ; my friendship for him, and for your family, has diffused itself, like the precious ointment from Aaron's beard, on every thing whic^t surrounds you, therefore I beg you would give m/ amities to the whole town. Persuade Honora to for- give the length and ardor of the inclosed, and believe me truly your affectionate and faithful friend, J. ANDRE. ? 1 \ t fi 946 LETTF.R IL London, October UJ, l76gf. FROM the midst of books, papers, bills, and other implements of gain, let me lift up my drowsy head a while to converse with dear Julia. And first, as I know she has a fervent wish to see me a quill-driver, I must tell her, that 1 begin, as people are wont to do, to look upon my future profession with great parti- ality. I no longer see it in so disadvantageous a light. Instead of figuring a merchant as a middle-aged man, with a bob wig, a rough beard, in snuff coloured clothes, grasping a guinea in his red hand; I conceive a comely young man, with a tolerable pig-tail, wield- ing a pen with all the noble fierceness of the Duke of Marlborough brandishing a truncheon upon a sign- post, surrounded with types and emblems, and cano- pied with cornucopijEs that disembogue their stores upon his head ; Mercuries reclin'd upon bales of goods; Genii playing with pens, ink, and paper; 547 while in perspcTtive, his gorgeous vessels " launched on ihe bosom of the silver Thames," are wafthig to distant lands the produce of this commercial nation. Thus ull the mercantile glories croud on my fancy, emblazoned in the most refulgent colouring of an ar- dent imagination ; borne on her soaring pinions I wing my flight to the time when Heaven shall have rrowned my labours with success and opulence. I see sump- tuous palaces rising to receive me; I see orphans, and widows, and painters, and fidlers, and poets, and builders, protected and encouraged ; und when the fabrick is pretty nearly finished by my shattered Pe- ricranium, I cast my eyes around, and find John Andre, by a small coal fire, in a gloomy compting- liouse in Warnford Court, • thing so little as what he has been making himself, and in all probability never to be much more than he is at present. But oh ! my dear Honora !— it is for thy dake only I wish for wealth. You say she was somewhat better at the time you wrote last. I must flatter myself that she will soon be without any remains of this threatening disease. It is seven o'clock— 'You and Honora, with two or three more select friends, are now probably encircling 348 your dressing-room fire-place. What would I not give to enlarge that circle ! The idea of a clean hearth, and a snug circle round it, formed by a few sincere friends^ transports me. You seem combined ' .gether against the inclemency of the weather, the hurry, bustle, ceremony, censoriousness, and envy of the world. The purity, the warmth, the kindly influence of fire, to all for whom it is kindled, is a good emblem of the friendship of such amiable muids as Julia's and her Honora's. Since I cannot be there in reality, pray imagine me with you ; admit me to your conversa- tion's ; think how I wish for the blessing of joining them ! and be persuaded that I take part in all your pleasures, in the dear hope, that e'er it be very long, your blazing hearth will burn again for me. Pray keep me a place; let the poker, tongs, or shovel, represent me : but you have Datch-tiles, which are infinitely better ; so let Moses, or Aaron, or Balaam's ass be my representative. But time calls me to Clapton. I quit you abruptly till to-morrow : when, if I do not tear the nonsense I have been writing, I may perhaps increase its quan- tity. Signora Cynthia is in clouded majesty. Sil- vered with her beams I am about to jog to Clapton m 349 upon my own stumps ; musing as I homeward plod my way— Ah ! need I name the subject of my con- templations ? Thursdat/. ti ^1 I had a sweet walk home last night, and found the Claptonians, with their fair guest, a Miss Mourgue, very well. My sisters send their amities, and will write in a few days. This morning I returned to town ; it has been the finest day imaginable ; a solemn mildness was diffused throughout the blue horizon ; its light was clear and distinct rather than dazzling ; the serene beams of the autumnal sun !-— Gilded hills, variegated woods, glittering spires, ruminating herds, bounding flocks, all combined to inchant the eyes, expand the heart, and ** chace all sorrow but despair." — In the midst of such a scene, no lesser grief can prevent our sym- pathy with nature ; a calmness, a benevolent disposi- tion seizes us with sweet insinuating power. The very brute creation seem sensible of these beauties ; there is a species of mild cheerfulness in the face of a larab, which I have but indifferently expressed in a corner of my paper, and a demure contented look in an ox, til I' ■ 3^0 which, in the tear of expressing still worse, I leave uuuttempled. Business calls me away ; I must dispatch my ktter ; yet what does it contain ? — No matter; you like any thing better than news. Indeed you never told me so, but I have an intuitive knowledge upon the sub- ject, from the sympathy which I have constantly per- ceived in the taste of Julia and Cher Jean, What is it to you or me If here in tlie city we have notliing but riot. If tlie Spital-field Weavers cuii't be kept quiet, If the weather is fine, or the streets should be dirty, v'l if Mr. Dick Wilson died aged of thirty ? — But if I was to hearken to the versifying grumbling I feel within me ! should .*ill my paper, and not have room left to intreat that you would plead my cause to Ilonora more eU»quently than the inclosed letter has the power of doing. Apropos of verses, you desire me to recollect my random description of the en- gaging appearance of the charming Mrs. — . Here it is at your service : Then rustling and bustling the Lady conies down. With a flaming red face, and a broad yellow gown. And a hobbling out-of-breuth gait, aud a &uwn. This, little French cousin of ours, Delarise, was my 351 flister Mary's play-fellow at Paris. His sprightlinesg engages my sisters extremely. Doubtless they talk much of him to you in their letters. How sorry I am to bid you adieu ! Oh let me not be forgot by the friends most dear to you at Lichfield ! Lichfield / Ah ! of what magic letters is that little word composed ! How graceful it looks when it is written ! Let nobody talk to me of its original mean- ing—" * The field of blood ! " Oh ! no such thing ! It is the field of joy ! «' The beautiful city, that lifts her fair head in the valley and says, I ow, and there is none beside me ! " Who says she is vain ? Julia will not say so, nor yet Honora, and least of all their UKi oted J. ANDKF, }. I 'I II ^ I • Field <{f blood. — Here is a small mistake— Licl'.f!*^id is not the field of blood, but " the field of dead bodi.s,' alluding to a battle fought between the Romans and the British Chri^jtiar.s in the Dioclesian persecution, when the latter were massacred. Three slain kings, with their burying-place, now Rarrowcop- bill, and the Cathedral in miniature, form the city-arms. Lich is still a word in use. The church-yard gates, through which funerals pass, are often called Lich-gates, vulgarly Light-gates. 55^ LETTER III. Clapton, November l, 1769. My ears still ring with the sounds of Oh Jack ! Oh Jack ! How do the dear Lichfieldians ? — What do they say ? — What are they about ? — What did you do while you were with them ? — Have patience, said I, good people ! and began my story, which they de- voured with as much joyful avidity as Adam did Ga- briel's tidings of Heaven. My mother and sisters are all very well, and delighted with their little French- man, who is a very agreeable lad. Surely yon applaud the fortitude with which I left you ! Did I not come off with flying colours ? It was a great effort, for, alas ! this recreant heart did not second the smiling courage of the countenance ; nor ii it yet as it ought to be, from the hopes it may reason- ably entertain of seeing you all again e'er the winter's dreary hours are past. Julia, my dear Julia, gild 1 1 left [t was lid not \ox it [lason- inter's gild 363 them with tidings of our beloved Honora ! Oh that you may be enabled to tell me that she regains her health, and her charming vivacity ! Your sympa- thizing heart partakes "11 the joys and painr of your friends. Never can 1 forget its kind oftices, which were of such moment to my peace ! Mine is formed for friendship, and I am blest in being able to place so loell the purest passion of an ingenuous mind ! How am I honoured in Mr. and Mrs. Seward's attach- ment to me ! Charming were the anticipations which beguiled the long tracts of hill, and dale, and plain, that divide London from Lichfield ! Witl> what de- light my eager eyes drank than first view of the dear spires ! What rapture did I not feel on entering your gates ! in flying up the hall steps ! in rushing into the dining-room ! in meeting the gladdeii'd eyes of dear Julia and her enchanting friend ! That instant con- vinced me of the truth of Rousseau's observation, *• th->t there are moments worth ages." Shall not those moments return ? Ah Julia ! the cold hauv' ot' ab- sence is heavy upon the heart of your poor Chei Jean ! He is forced to hammer into it perpetually every con- soling argument that the magic wand of Hope can conjure up ; viz. that every moment of industrious absence advances his journey, you know whither. I may sometimes make excursions to Lichfield, and A a It ¥ !' i ill 354' bask In the light of my Honora's eyes ! Sustain me Hope ! nothing on my part shall be wanting which may induce thee to /uljil thy blossoming promises. The happy social circle, Julia, Honora, Miss S n, MissB n, her brother, Mr. S e, Mr. Ri n, &c. &c. are now, perhaps, enlivening your dressing-room, the dear blue region, as llonora calls it, with the sensible observation, the tasteful criticism, or the elegant song ; dreading the iron- tongue of the nine o'clock bell, which disperses the beings, whom friendship and kindred virtues had drawn together. My imagination attaches itself to all, even the inanimate objects which surround Honora and her Julia ; that have beheld their graces and vir- tues expand and ripen ; my dear Honora's, from their infant bud. The sleepy Claptonian train are gone to bed, some- what wearied with their excursion to Enfield, whither they have this day carried th ir favourite little Freuch- man ; so great a favourite, the parting was quite tra- gical. I walked hither from town, as usual, to nighi ; no hour of the tweuty-four is so precious to me as that devoted to tiiis solitary walk. Oh, my friend ! I tkin far from possessing the patient frame of mind wb«' h I S56 some- hither reuoh- Ite tvA- lii^j^ht ; s that |l I sun ^ ill so continually invoke ! Why is Lichfield an hundred and twenty miles froin me ? There is no moderation in the distance ! Fifty or sixty miles had been a great deal too much, but then, there would have been less opposition from authority to my frequent visits ; I conjure you, supply the want of these blessings by frequent letters; I must not, will not ask them of Honora, since the use of the pen is forbid to her de- clining health ; I will content myself, as usual, with a postscript from her in your epistles. My sisters are charmed with the packet which arrived yesterday, and which they will answer soon. As yet I have said nothing of our journey. We met an entertaining Irish Gentleman at Dunchurch, and, being fellow-sufterers in cold and hunger, joined interests, ordered four horses, and stuffed three in a chaise. It is not to you, I need apologize for talking in raptures of an Higler, whom we met on our roi>.d. His cart had passed us, and was at a considerable dis- tance, when, looking back, he perceived that our chaise had stopped, and that the driver seemed mend- ing something. He ran up to him, and with a face full of honest anxiety, pity, good-nature, and every sweet affection under Heaven, asked him ;f lie wanted any thing ? that he had plenty of nails, ropes, &c. ▲ a2 366 in his cart. That wretch of a postillion made no other reply than, •* We want nothing Master." From the same impulse the good Irishman, Mr. Till, and myself, thrust our heads instantly out of the chaise, and tried to recompense to the honest creature this surly reply, by every kind and grateful acknowledg- ment, and by forcing upon him a little pecuniary tri- bute. My benevolence will be the warmer, while 1 live, for the treasured rememb-dnce of this Higler's countenance. I know you interest yourself in my destiny : I have now completely subdued my aversion to the profession of a merchant, and hope in time to acquire an incli> nation for it. Vet, God forbid I should ever love what I am to make the object of my attention ! that vile trash, which I care not for, but only as it may be the future means of procuring the blessing of my soul. Thus all my mercantile calculations go to the tune of dear Honora. When an impertinent consci- ousness whispers in my ear, that I am not of the right stuff for a merchant, I draw my Honora's picture from my bosom, and the sight of that dear Talisman so inspirits my industry, that no toil appears opw pressive. 357 The poetic task you set nie is in a sad method ; my head and heart are too full of other matters to be engrossed by a draggle-tail'd wench of the Heliconian puddle. I am going to try my interest in parliament ; how you stare ! it is to procure a frank. Be so good to give the inclosed to Honora ; it will speak to her ; and do you say every thing that is kind for me to every other distinguished friend of the dressing-room circle ; encourage them in their obliging desire of scribbling in your letters, but don't let them take Honora's cor- ner of the sheet. Adieu !— May you all possess that cheerfulness de- nied to you/ Cher Jean. I festr it hurts my mother to see my musing moods; but I can neither help nor overcome them. The near hopes of another excur- sion to Lichfield, could alone disperse every gloomy vapour of my imagination. Again, and yet again adieu ! J. ANDRE. m FINIS. Printed by W. Ctowesy Northumberland Covrt, Strand. TO THE BINDER. Portrait of Ai^dre to face the title-page. Map of North America to face page 1 of the Narrative. Monument of Major Andre to face page 176^ ERRATA. Page 2, line 8, for Knigbtsbridge read Kingsbridgc— p. 18, 1. 4, for Biitwater read Outwatcr — )>. 33, 1. 1, for Callows Point »-«?arf Tailor's Point — p. 39, 1. 8,/or Bull read Ball— p. 42, I. 18, for Bull's read Ball's— p. 61, 1. 8, for Colonel rearf Governor — p. 90, 1. 10,,/or as read when — p. 133, 1. 1,/or Hamilton reac?Wash- ington — p. 205,1. T^for contradiction reae/ confirmation— p. 213. 1. 3,/or Bull renrf Ducr—p 214,1. 17,/or recruiting read reraain- ing— p. 235, 1 4, ,/br acclamttion reacf declaration— p. 252,1. 14, for affect read effect— p. 257, I. 4, for Bergon read Bergen — p. 281, 1.8, /orTatowa read Totowa— p. 281, 1. 12, /or Ponter'» read Paul's. "^TTy-.^-'-.^^T'-BT «