THE TWO SPIES 
 
 NATHAN HALE AND JOHN ANDRfi 
 
 / 3 
 
 BY 
 
 BENSON J. LOSSING, LL. D. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH PEN-AND-INK SKETCHES BY H. ROSA 
 
 
 ANNA SEWARD'S MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 I, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET 
 
 1886
 
 COPYRIGHT. 1886, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPA.NY
 
 FO R ETALK. 
 
 THIS little volume contains a brief account of the most 
 i nportant events in the life-career of two notable spies in 
 our War for Independence, NATHAN HALE and JOHN ANDRE. 
 They were both young men, well educated, endowed with 
 genius and ability for conspicuous achievements, brave and 
 accomplished soldiers, pure and virtuous in private char- 
 ; cter, truthful, manly, refined in thoughts and manners, hand- 
 s >me in person, lovely in disposition, and beloved by all 
 ,vho knew them. 
 
 Yet they were spies ! 
 
 " Spies," says Vattel, " are generally condemned to capi- 
 tal punishment, and not unjustly, there being scarcely any 
 ther way of preventing the mischief which they may do. 
 r this reason a man of honor, who would not expose 
 1 imself to die by the hand of a common executioner, ever 
 declines serving as a spy. He considers it beneath him, 
 s it can seldom be done without some kind of treachery."' 
 May not a spy be a man of lofty honor, and act under 
 fie inspiration of disinterested patriotism? Stratagem, an 
 artifice or scheme for deceiving an enemy in war, is re- 
 arded as honorable, but is it not seldom exercised " with- 
 ut some kind of treachery " ?
 
 i v FORETALK. 
 
 It is the motive which gives true character to the deed. 
 When the motive is a purely mercenary one, the deed is 
 dishonorable ; when it is the lofty one of a desire to serve 
 one's country or his race, unselfishly, the act is certainly 
 honorable. Nathan Hale truthfully said, " Every kind of 
 service necessary for the public good becomes honorable 
 by being necessary, j 
 
 The motives of the two spies were expressed by them- 
 selves. Hale said: " I wish to be useful. If the exigencies 
 of my country demand a peculiar service, its claims to the 
 performance of that service are imperious)" Andr6 avowed 
 that in the enterprise in which he was engaged all he sought 
 " was military glory, the applause of his king and country, 
 and, perhaps, a brigadiership." 
 
 The last words uttered by Andre under the gibbet indi- 
 cated that his supreme thought at that moment was of him- 
 self. He said to the American officers present, " I request 
 you, gentlemen, that you will bear me witness to the world 
 that I die like a brave man." Hale's last words upon the 
 ladder indicated that his supreme thought at that moment 
 was of his country. He said, " I only regret that I have but 
 one life to lose for my country ! " 
 
 In 1856 a "Life of Captain Nathan Hale," by I. W, 
 Stuart, was published at Hartford, in a small volume of 230 
 pages. In 1861 "The Life and Career of Major John An- 
 dr6," by Winthrop Sargeant, was published at Boston in a 
 small octavo volume of nearly 500 pages. It is an exhaust- 
 ive work. To these two books I acknowledge much in- 
 debtedness. 
 
 The spirited pen-and-ink sketches which illustrate this 
 little volume were largely copied from original drawings by 
 the author; also from other original drawings and auto-
 
 FORE TALK. v 
 
 graphs. The two pictures, Cunningham destroying Hales 
 Letters, and The Tournament, are original designs by the 
 artist. 
 
 This volume contains the full text of Andre's " Cow- 
 Chase," and the famous " Monody on Major Andre," by 
 Miss Anna Seward, with a portrait and a brief biographical 
 sketch of the author ; also three characteristic letters writ- 
 ten by Andre to Miss Seward, when he was a youth of 
 eighteen. The " Monody," I believe, has never been pub- 
 lished in America. 
 
 B. J. L. 
 THE RIDGE, April, 1886.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 NATHAN HALE. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Hale's Birthplace and Parentage. The Hale Family . .3 
 
 Male's Youthhood and Education ........ 4 
 
 Dr. Munson's Recollections of him 5 
 
 Hale at Yale College and as a School-teacher 7 
 
 Patriotism of . . 8, 9 
 
 His Military Career at Boston and New York 9-12 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 The American Army at New York 12, 13 
 
 A Man for Secret Service sought 18 
 
 Hale's Idea of the Service ; he volunteers 14 
 
 His Career as a Spy 1 5-20 
 
 His Arrest 17 
 
 Taken to General Howe's Headquarters . . . . . . -19 
 
 Sentenced to be hanged without Trial. Great Fire in New York . . 20 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Hale at the Place of Execution .21 
 
 Cruelly treated by Cunningham, the Provost-Marshal . . . .22 
 
 His Last Words 23 
 
 Sympathy expressed ; his Execution ....... 24 
 
 Monumental Memorials of Hale ....... 25-27 
 
 Literary Contributions to his Memory 27-31 
 
 Tribute to Hale by Henry J. Raymond . . . . . . -31 
 
 Proposed Monument in Memory of Hale at New York . . . -33 
 Proposed Epitaph 34
 
 v iii CONTENTS. 
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Andre's Birth, Parentage, Education, and Family 37 
 
 His Acquaintance with Anna Seward and her Literary Friends . . 38 
 
 His Betrothal to Honora Sneyd 40 
 
 His Correspondence with Miss Seward 41 
 
 Enters the Army ........... 42 
 
 Presaging Omens % 42, 43 
 
 Andre goes to America 43 
 
 Made a Prisoner .'.... 44 
 
 At Philadelphia his Accomplishments and Captivating Manners . . 45 
 
 Lord Howe entertained 45 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Mischianza described by Andre 46-59 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Mischianza and the Character of General Howe criticised . 59, 60 
 The British fly from Philadelphia toward New York, General Clinton in 
 
 Command. Battle of Monmouth 60 
 
 Expedition to Rhode Island 61 
 
 Andre's Genius and Social Position 62 
 
 His Letter to Benedict Arnold's Wife . . . . . . -63 
 
 Arnold's Career in Philadelphia 63, 64 
 
 His Treasonable Correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton and Andre 64, 65 
 
 Andre a Spy in Charleston 66 
 
 Arnold's Premeditated Treason. Occasion of " The Cow-Chase " . .67 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 " The Cow-Chase " 68 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Gloomy State of Public Affairs. Proposed Personal Meeting between 
 
 Arnold and Andre 79 
 
 Arrangements for such a Meeting 79, 80 
 
 Andr6 at a Dinner- Party 80, 8 1 
 
 Goes to meet General Arnold 81 
 
 The Meeting " . 81, 82 
 
 They go to Smith's House .83
 
 CONTENTS. ix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Terms of Treasonable Service agreed upon. Andre compelled to 
 
 attempt a Return to New York by Land 84 
 
 Receives Papers from Arnold. His Journey. The Neutral Ground . 85 
 
 Andre arrested 86 
 
 Patriotism of his Captors 88 
 
 Their Reward . . . . . . . . . . -89 
 
 Andre discovered to be a Spy ......... 90 
 
 His Confession 91 
 
 His Letter to Washington 91 -93 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Washington returns from Hartford at a Critical Moment. Arnold re- 
 ceives Notice of Andre's Arrest 93 
 
 Painful Interview with his Wife. He escapes to the Vulture . . -94 
 Washington at Arnold's Quarters. Discovers Arnold's Treason. His 
 
 Calmness and Tenderness 96 
 
 Andre brought to Arnold's Quarters and sent to General Greene at 
 
 Tappaan ............ 97 
 
 His Free Conversation with Major Tallmadge . . . . 98 
 
 Effects of the News of his Capture 99 
 
 Tried by a Board of Officers and condemned as a Spy . . . .100 
 
 Efforts to save him . . . . . . . . . . . 101 
 
 His Choice of the Mode of Death . . . . . . . .102 
 
 His Execution ........... 103-105 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Almost Universal Sympathy felt for Andre 105, 106 
 
 Honored by his King 106 
 
 A Monument to his Memory in Westminster Abbey, described . 106-108 
 
 Andre's Remains removed to the Abbey 108 
 
 Memorials to mark the Place of his Execution .... 109-115 
 Memorial-Stone erected by Mr. Field at Tappaan .... 110-115 
 
 Mr. Field's Generous Proposition 110, 114, 118 
 
 Attempts to destroy the Field Memorial at Tappaan . . .117,118 
 
 An Indignation Meeting at Tappaan 119 
 
 A Monument to mark the Place where Andre was captured at Tarry- 
 town 119-121 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ANNA SEWARD 125 
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE 135 
 
 ANDRE'S LETTERS TO Miss SEWARD 152 
 
 INDEX 165
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NATHAN HALE'S BIRTHPLACE Frontispiece 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF MALE'S HANDWRITING 6 
 
 UNION GRAMMAR SCHOOL-HOUSE AT NEW LONDON 8 
 
 THE BEEKMAN MANSION 18 
 
 BEEKMAN'S GREENHOUSE 19 
 
 CUNNINGHAM DESTROYING HALE'S LETTERS . 22 
 
 THE HALE MONUMENT AT COVENTRY . 26 
 
 PORTRAIT OF JOHN ANDRE face 37 
 
 PORTRAIT OF HONORA SNEYD ... 39 
 
 THE MISCHIANZA TICKET . . -47 
 
 LADY'S HEAD-DRESS 48 
 
 THE JOUST AT THE TOURNAMENT 52 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF ARNOLD'S DISGUISED HANDWRITING . . . . . 65 
 FAC-SIMILE OF ANDRE'S DISGUISED HANDWRITING ..... 65 
 FAC-SIMILE OF THE LAST STANZA OF THE COW-CHASE . . . .78 
 
 THE SMITH HOUSE 82 
 
 FAS-SIMILE OF ARNOLD'S PASSPORT 87 
 
 PORTRAIT OF JOHN PAULDING 89 
 
 THE ROBINSON HOUSE ' . -95 
 
 "THE '76 STONE HOUSE ' 97 
 
 WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT TAPPAAN ...... too 
 
 PASSAGE FROM THE VULTURE 104 
 
 ANDRE'S MONUMENT IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY . . . / . . . 107 
 
 BOWLDER-MONUMENT 109 
 
 DEAN STANLEY'S AUTOGRAPH 112 
 
 MEMORIAL AT TAPPAAN 116 
 
 MEMORIAL AT TARRYTOWN 120 
 
 PORTRAIT OF ANNA SEWARD face 125
 
 STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, 
 
 Los Angeles. Cai 
 
 NATHAN HALE.
 
 NATHAN HALE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN a picturesque region of Tolland County, Connecticut, 
 
 twenty miles eastward of Hartford, situated upon an emi- 
 
 nei ce which commands a beautiful and extensive prospect 
 
 westward toward the State capital, there once stood, and 
 
 perhaps now stands, a pleasant farm-house, built of wood, 
 
 two stories in height.* In that house, on the 6th of 
 
 1755, a child was born whose name appears con- 
 
 s ( uous in our national history. It was a boy, and one 
 
 of twelve children, whose father, Richard Hale, had emi- 
 
 gv :ed in early life from Newberry, in Massachusetts, to 
 
 Coventry, and there married Elizabeth Strong, a charming 
 
 rrriden eighteen years of age. He was a descendant of 
 
 ert Hale, or Hales, who settled in Charlestown, in 1632, 
 
 who seems to have been a scion of the Hales of Kent, 
 
 for he bore their coat-of-arms three broad arrows feath- 
 
 t-rec. white, on a red field. 
 
 /^loth Richard and Elizabeth Hale were of the strictest 
 s< ( t of the Puritans of their jday. They revered the Bible 
 
 ?ee the frontispiece, copied from a drawing by J. W. Barber, of New Haven, 
 in r .o. 
 
 2
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 asXhe voice of God ; reverenced magistrates and gospel 
 ministers as his chosen servants ; regarded the strict observ- 
 ance of the Christian Sabbath as a binding obligation, and 
 family worship and grace before meals as imperative duties 
 and precious privileges.^ 
 
 The sixth child of Richard and Elizabeth Hale they 
 named NATHAN. He was feeble in body at the beginning 
 of his life, and gave very little promise of surviving the 
 period of infancy ; but tender motherly care carried him 
 safely over the critical second year, and he became a robust 
 child, physically and mentally. He grew up a lively, sweet- 
 tempered, and beautiful youth ; and these qualities marked 
 his young manhood. 
 
 Nathan Hale, the distinguished person alluded to, bright 
 and active, loved out-of-door pastimes, and communing with 
 Nature everywhere. He was conspicuous among his com- 
 panions for remarkable athletism. He would spring, with 
 apparent ease, out of one hogshead into smother, through a 
 series ; and he would place his hand upoa a fence as high as 
 his head, and spring over it at a bound with apparently little 
 effort. 
 
 Having an intense thirst for knowledge, young Hale was 
 very studious. His father designed him for the Christian 
 ministry, and he was fitted for college by the Rev. Dr. 
 Huntington, one of the most eminent Congregational di- 
 vines and scholars of his day, and then*"the pastor of the 
 parish in which Nathan was born. / 
 
 Young Hale entered Yale College when in the sixteenth 
 year of his age. His brother Enoch, the grandfather of 
 Rev. Edward Everett Hale, of Boston, and two years the 
 senior of Nathan, entered Yale at the same time. The 
 students then numbered about sixty. His course of col-
 
 NATHAN HALE. 5 
 
 lege-life was eminently praiseworthy ; and he was gradu- 
 ated with the highest honors in September, 1773. Popu- 
 lar with all the students, the tutors, and, the faculty, he 
 was always a welcome visitor in the best families of New 
 Haven. 
 
 In the autumn of 1848 I visited the venerable Eneas 
 Mimson, M. D., at New Haven. He had been assistant sur- 
 geon, under Dr. Thatcher, in the old War for Independence. 
 He knew young Hale well during the later period of his life 
 at Yale College, for he was then a frequent visitor at the 
 home of Dr. Munson's father. 
 
 " I was greatly impressed," said Dr. Munson, " with 
 Hale's scientific knowledge, evinced during his conversation 
 'with my father. I atfi sure he was equal to Andre in solid 
 acquirements, and/his taste for art and talents as an artist 
 were quite remarkable. /His personal appearance was as 
 notable. He was almost six feet in height, perfectly propor- 
 tioned, and in figure and deportment he was the most manly 
 man I have ever met. His chest was broad ; his muscles 
 were firm ; his face wore a most benign expression ; his com- 
 plexion was roseate ; his eyes were light blue and beamed 
 with intelligence ; his hair was soft and light brown in 
 color, and his speech was rather low, sweet, and musical, 
 His personal beauty and grace of manner were most charm- 
 ing. Why, all the girls in New Haven fell in love with 
 him," said Dr. Munson, "and wept tears of real sorrow 
 when they heard of his sad fate. In dress he was always 
 neat ; he was quick to lend a helping hand to a being in dis- 
 tress, brute or human ; was overflowing with good-humor, 
 e and was the idol of all his acquaintances/^ 
 
 Such was the verbal testimony or a personal acquaint- 
 ance of Nathan Hale as to his appearance and character
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 when he left Yale College.* Dr. Jared Sparks, who knew 
 several of Hale's intimate friends, writes of him : 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF HALE'S HAND-WRITINO. 
 
 x~ 
 
 y*'' Possessing genius, taste, and order, he became distin- 
 guished as a scholar ; and, endowed in an eminent degree 
 with those graces and gifts of Nature which add a charm to 
 youthful excellence, he gained universal esteem and confi- 
 dence. To high moral worth and irreproachable habits 
 were joined gentleness of manner, an ingenuous disposition, 
 
 * Dr. Munson allowed me to read the following letter written by Hale to his 
 father, from New London, late in September, 1774, and to make a fac-simile of 
 the last paragraph as seen above : 
 
 , "NEW LONDON, November 30, 1774. 
 
 ,/^SlR : I am very happily situated here. I love my employment ; find many 
 friends among strangers ; have time for scientific study, and seem to fill the place 
 assigned me with satisfaction. I have a school of more than thirty boys to instruct, 
 about half of them in Latin ; and my salary is satisfactory. During the summer I 
 had a morning class of young ladies about a score from five to seven o'clock ; so 
 you see my time is pretty fully occupied, profitably I hope to my pupils and to 
 their teacher. 
 
 " Please accept for yourself and Mrs. Munson the grateful thanks of one who 
 will always remember the kindness he ever experienced whenever he visited your 
 abode, f Your friend, NATHAN HALE."
 
 NATHAN HALE. f 
 
 and vigor of understanding. No young man of his years 
 put forth a fairer promise of future usefulness and celebrity ; 
 the fortunes of none were fostered more sincerely by the 
 generous good wishes of his associatevand the hopes and 
 encouraging presages of his superiors^} 
 
 Among Hale's classmates was (afterward Major) Benja- 
 min Tallmadge, who had charge of Andre soon after his 
 arrest. With William Robinson and Ezra Samson he was 
 engaged with Hale at their graduation, in a Latin syllogis- 
 tic dispute, followed by a debate on the question, " Whether 
 the education of daughters be not, without any just reason, 
 more neglected than that of the sons? " 
 
 rln this debate Hale was triumphant," wrote James Hill- 
 house, another of his classmates, who was a few months his 
 junior. " He was the champion of ' The Daughters/ and 
 most ably advocated their cause. You may be sure that he 
 received the plaudits of the ladies present/' 
 
 On leaving college, Hale engaged in school-teaching for 
 nearly two years. He first taught a select school at East 
 Haddam, on the left bank of the Connecticut River, then a 
 
 Zof much wealth. 
 1774 he was called to the position of preceptor in the 
 i Grammar-School at New London, an institution of 
 high grade, intended to furnish facilities for a thorough Eng- 
 lish education and the classical preparation necessary for 
 entering college. The school-building stood on State Street. 
 Young Hale was appointed its first preceptor after its or- 
 / ganization. It was a high compliment to his ability/' 
 
 Hale's connection with this school was most agreeable. 
 Everybody became warmly attached to him. His life moved 
 pn in a placid current, with scarcely a ripple upon its sur- 
 face. He assiduously cultivated science and letters, moved
 
 8 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 in the most refined society, and engaged in social pleasures 
 and religious repose. His future appeared full of joyful 
 promises. 
 
 _L ~ .7 ~ 
 
 | : i" ffl MM , 
 
 UNION GRAMMAR SCHOOL-HOUSE AT NEW LONDON. 
 
 Suddenly Avar's alarms dispelled Hale's dream of qui.ef-t 
 happiness. The news of the bloodshed at Lexington am : j 
 Concord aroused the continent New England in a special 
 manner. A messenger, riding express with the news, be 5 - 
 tween Boston and New York, brought it to New Londoi'i 
 late on the 2ist of April. It created intense excitement. /L 
 ,town meeting was called at the court-house at twilight;. 
 Among the speakers present whose words fired the hearts ^ 
 of the eager listeners was Nathan Hale. With impassioned 
 language and intense earnestness he exhorted the people to 
 take patriotic action at once. " Let us march immediately," 
 he cried, "and never lay down our arms until we have ob- 
 tained our independence!" This was the first public de- 
 mand for independence made at- the beginning of the grea^'t 
 struggle.
 
 NATHAN HALE. g 
 
 When the meeting adjourned, Hale, with others, enrolled 
 himself as a volunteer. (^ A company was soon formed. On 
 the following morning when the school assembled, he prayed 
 with his pupils, gave them good advice, bade each one of 
 them an affectionate farewell, and soon afterward departed 
 fo^Cambridge. He returned and resumed his duties at 
 the school, but it was not long before his intense desire to 
 serve his country caused him to enlist as a lieutenant of 
 a company in Colonel Charles Webb's regiment a body 
 raised by order of the General Assembly for home de- 
 fense, or, if necessary, for the protection of tae country 
 at large) 
 
 Late in September Hale marched with his regiment to 
 Cambridge, and participated in the siege of Boston. He 
 received the commission of captain early in January, and 
 was vigilant and brave at all times. The British were driven 
 from the New England capital in March (1776), and sailed 
 away to Halifax with a host of Tories, who fled from the 
 wrath of the Whigs whom they had oppressed. After the 
 British left Boston, the bulk of the American army pro- 
 ceeded to New York. So earnest and unselfish was Hale's 
 
 patriotismjthat. wvhen^ late in i77^_the men ojJ 
 pf g^ryice had expired 
 
 . 
 ' 
 
 Jiome, he offeredto give them his rnnnfh^jT^y if they 
 
 remain so m_ur;h longer-, jj 
 --- _ ^ 
 
 / Soon after Hale's arrival at New York, he successfully 
 performed a daring feat. A British sloop, laden with pro- 
 visions, was anchored in the East River under the protec- 
 tion of the guns of the man-of-war Asia sixty-four. General 
 Heath gave Hale permission to attempt the capture of the 
 supply-vessel. With a few picked men (probably of Glov- 
 er's brigade, who were largely seamen), as resolute as him-
 
 10 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 self, he proceeded in a whale-boat silently at midnight to the 
 side of the sloop, unobserved by the sentinel on the deck. 
 Hale and his men sprang on board, secured the sentinel, 
 confined the crew below the hatches, raised her anchor, 
 and took her into Coenties Slip just at the dawn of 
 Captain Hale was at the helm. The victors were gre| 
 with loud huzzas from a score of voices when the sloop 
 touched the wharf. The stores of provisions of the prize- 
 vessel were distributed among Hale's hungry fellow-sol- 
 diers^ 
 
 We ha\ e no information concerning Hale's movements 
 from the time of his capture of the supply-vessel until after 
 the battle of Long Island. He became captain of a company 
 of Connecticut Rangers in May a corps composed of choice 
 men picked from the different Connecticut regiments, and 
 placed under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas 
 Knowlton, who had distinguished himself in the battle of 
 Bunker's (Breed's) Hill. They were known as " Congress's 
 
 In two or three letters written by Hale to his brothers in 
 the earlier part of the summer, he mentions some hostile 
 movements, but there are no indications that he was en- 
 gaged in any of them. He seems not to have been in the 
 battle of Long Island or a participant in the famous retreat 
 of Washington across the East River, from Brooklyn, at the 
 close of August. /He was among the troops that remained 
 in New York when the British invaded Long Island (for he 
 was sick at that time), and joined the retreating forces in 
 their march toward Harlem Heights early in September/ 
 He first appears after that movement in the presence of 
 Washington, at the house of the opulent Quaker merchant, 
 Robert Murray, on Murray Hill, to receive instructions for
 
 NATHAN HALE. \\ 
 
 the performance of an important mission. What was the 
 nature of that mission ? Let us see : 
 
 The American army on Manhattan Island was in a most 
 perilous condition after the retreat from Long Island. It 
 was fearfully demoralized, and seemed to be on the point ot 
 dissolution. Despair had taken possession of the minds of 
 the militia. They deserted by companies and even by regi- 
 ments. Impatient of restraint, insubordination everywhere 
 prevailed. The soldiers clamored for pay ; the money-chest 
 was empty. They clamored for clothing and blankets, as 
 cold weather was approaching ; the commissary could not 
 respond. One third of the men were without tents, and one 
 fourth of them were on the sick-roll. Only fourteen thou- 
 sand men were fit for duty, and these were scattered in de- 
 tachments lying between each 'extremity of the island, a dis- 
 tance of a dozen miles or more. 
 
 The British army was then twenty-five thousand strong, 
 and lay in compact detachments along the shores of New 
 York Bay and the East River, from (present) Greenwood 
 Cemetery to Flushing and beyond. The soldiers were vet- 
 erans, and were flushed with the recent victory. They were 
 commanded by able generals. The army was supported by 
 a powerful naval force which studded with armed vessels 
 the waters that clasped Manhattan Island. Each arm of the 
 service was magnificently equipped with artillery, stores, 
 and munitions of war of every kind. 
 
 Such was the condition and relative position of the two 
 armies when, on the 7th of September, Washington called a 
 council of war to consider the important questions, What 
 shall be done ? Shall we defend or abandon New York ? 
 
 Washington had already asked Congress, " If we should 
 be obliged to abandon the town, ought it to stand as winter-
 
 12 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 quarters for the enemy ? " He was answered by a resolve 
 that, in case he should find it necessary that he should quit 
 New York, he should " have special care taken that no dam- 
 age be done to the city, Congress having no doubt of their 
 being able to recover it." It was resolved to remain and 
 defend the city. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 s 
 
 PERILS were- gathering thick and fast, and at another 
 council, held on the L2th, it was resolved to abandon the 
 city and take a position on .Harlem 1 1 eights. The sick were 
 sent over to New Jersey, and the public stores were takea' 
 to Dobb's Ferry, twenty miles up the Hudson River. Then 
 the main army moved northward, leaving in the city a 
 guard of four thousand men under General Putnam, with 
 orders to follow if necessary. 
 
 Washington made his headquarters at the house of Rob-' 
 ert Murray on the I4th. The position of the American 
 army now appeared more perilous than ever. Two ships- 
 of-war had passed up the East River. Others soon followed. 
 Scouts reported active movements among the British troops 
 everywhere, but could not penetrate, even by reasonable 
 conjecture, the designs of the enemy. It was of the utmost 
 importance to know something of their real intentions. 
 Washington wrote to General Heath, then stationed at 
 Kingsbridge : 
 
 /"'As everything, in a manner, depends upon obtaining in- 
 telligence of the enemy's motions, I do most earnestly en- 
 treat you and General Clinton to exert yourselves to accom- 
 plish this most desirable end. Leave no stone unturned, nor
 
 NATHAN HALE. ! 3 
 
 do not stick at expense, to bring this to pass, as I was never 
 more uneasy than on account of my want of knowledge on 
 this score. Keep constant lookout, with good glasses, on 
 some commanding heights that look well on to the other 
 shore. y 
 
 The vital questions pressing for answer were, Will they 
 make a direct attack upon the city? Will they land upon 
 the island, above the city, or at^Mojjisania beyond the Har- 
 lem River ? Will they attempt to cut off our communica- 
 tions with the main, by seizing the region along the Harlem 
 JRiyer or at Kingsbridge, by landing forces on the shores of 
 the East and Hudson Rivers, at Turtle Bay, or at Blooming- 
 dale, and, stretching a cordon of armed men from river to 
 river, cut off the four thousand troops left in the city ? _ 
 
 Washington, in his perplexity, called another council of 
 war at Murray's. He told his officers that he could not 
 procure the least information concerning the intentions of 
 the enemy, and asked the usual question of late, What shall 
 be done ? It was resolved to send, a competent person T in 
 disguise, into the British camps on Long Island to unveil 
 the momentous secret. It needed one skilled in military 
 and scientific knowledge and a good draughtsman ; a man 
 possessed of a quick eye, a cool head, unflinching courage ; 
 tact, caution, and sagacity a man on whose judgment and 
 fidelity implicit reliance might be placed. 
 
 Washington sent for Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton and 
 asked him to seek for a trustful man for the service, in his 
 own noted regiment or in some other. Knowlton summoned 
 a large number of officers to a conference at his quarters, 
 and, in the name of the commander-in-chief, invited a volun- 
 teer for the important service. They were surprised. There 
 was a long pause. Patriotism, ambition, a love of advent-
 
 I4 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 ure, and indignation, alternately took possession of their 
 feelings. It was an invitation to serve their country su- 
 premely by becoming a spy a character upon whom all 
 civilized nations place the ban of scorn and contumely ! 
 They recoiled from such a service, and there was a general 
 and even resentful refusal to comply with the request. 
 
 Late in the conference, when Knowlton had despaired of 
 finding a man competent and willing to undertake the peril- 
 ous mission, a young officer appeared, pale from the effects 
 of recent severe sickness. Knowlton repeated the invita- 
 tion, when, almost immediately, the voice of the young sol- 
 dier was heard uttering the momentous words, " I will un- 
 dertake it ! " It was the voice of Captain Nathan Hale. 
 
 Everybody was astonished. The whole company knew 
 Hale. They loved and admired him. They tried to dis- 
 suade him from his decision, setting forth the risk of sacri- 
 ficing all his good prospects in life and the fond hopes of his 
 parents and friends. They painted in darkest colors the igno- 
 miny and death to which he mighfbe exposed. His warmly 
 \ attached friend, William Hull (afterward a general in the 
 \ War of 1812), who was a member of his company and had 
 been a classmate at college, employed all the force of 
 friendship and the arts of persuasion to bend him from his 
 purpose, but in vain. With warmth and decision Hale 
 
 said : - ' 
 
 % 
 
 " Gentlemen, I think I owe to my country the accom- 
 plishment of an object so important and so much desired 
 by the commander of her armies, and I know no mode of 
 obtaining the information but by assuming a disguise and 
 passing into the enemy's camp. I am fully sensible of the 
 consequences of discovery and capture in such a situation. 
 But for a year I have been attached to the army, and have
 
 NATHAN HALE. 15 
 
 not rendered any material service, while receiving a com- 
 pensation for which I make no return. Yet I am not influ- 
 enced by any expectation of promotion or pecuniary reward. 
 I wish to be useful ; and every kind of service necessary for the 
 public good becomes honorable by being necessary. If the exigen- 
 cies of my country demand a peculiar service, its claims to 
 the performance of that service are imperious.",. 
 
 These manly, wise, and patriotic words this willingness 
 to sacrifice himself, if necessary, for the good of his country 
 silenced his brother officers. Accompanied by Knowlton, 
 he appeared before Washington the same afternoon, and 
 received instructions concerning his mission. His com- 
 mander also furnished him with a general order to the 
 owners of all American vessels in Long Island Sound to 
 convey him to any point on Long Island which he might 
 designate. 
 
 Hale left the camp on Harlem Heights the same evening, 
 accompanied by Sergeant Stephen Hempstead, a trust- 
 worthy member of his company, whom he engaged to go 
 with him as far as it would be prudent. He was also accom- 
 panied by his trusty servant, Ansel Wright. They found 
 no safe place to cross the Sound until they arrived at Nor- 
 walk, fifty miles from New York, owing to the presence of 
 small British cruisers in those waters. There Hale ex- 
 changed his regimentals for a citizen's dress of brown cloth 
 and a broad-brimmed round hat, and directed Hempstead 
 and Wright to tarry for him at Norwalk until his return, 
 which he supposed would be on the 2Oth. He directed a 
 boat to be sent for him on the morning of that day, and left 
 with Hempstead his uniform and his military commission 
 and other papers. 
 
 There are somewhat conflicting accounts concerning
 
 !6 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Hale's movements after he left Norwalk. All agree that he 
 was conveyed across the Sound to Huntington Bay, where 
 he landed ; that he assumed the character of a schoolmaster 
 and loyalist disgusted with the " rebel " cause, and that he 
 professed to be in quest of an engagement as a school- 
 teacher. It is known that he entered the British camps in 
 personal disguise and with the pretext of loyalty and the 
 character of a pedagogue ; that he was received with great 
 cordiality as a "good fellow " ; that he visited all the British 
 camps on Long Island, made observations openly, and draw- 
 ings and memoranda of fortifications, etc., secretly ; that he 
 passed over from Brooklyn to New York city and gathered 
 much information concerning affairs there, the British hav- 
 ing invaded Manhattan Island and secured possession of the 
 town since his departure ; * and that he returned to Long 
 Island and passed through the various camps to Huntington 
 Bay for the purpose of going back to Norwalk. 
 
 Tradition tells us that Hale was conveyed from Norwalk 
 to Huntington Bay on a sloop, and was landed from her 
 yawl two hours before daybreak in the neighborhood of a 
 place called " ThgJUedars." Near there a Widow Chiches- 
 ter, a stanch loyalist (called " Widow Chich "), kept a tav- 
 ern, which was the resort of all the Tories in that region. 
 Hale passed this dangerous place with safety before cock- 
 crowing, and at a farm-house a mile distant he was kindly 
 furnished with breakfast and a bfed for repose after his 
 night's toil. Then he made his way to the nearest British 
 
 On the day after Hale's departure, a strong British force crossed the East 
 River and landed at Kip's Bay at the foot of (present) Thirty-fourth Street, drove 
 off an American detachment stationed there, and formed a line almost across the isl- 
 and to Bloomingdale. On the i6th detachments of the two armies had a severe con- 
 test on Harlem Plains, in which the Americans were victorious, but at the cost of 
 the life of the gallant Colonel Knowlton. ,-
 
 NATHAN HALE. ij 
 
 camp, and was received' without suspicion of his real charac- 
 ter. Concerning his movements after that, until his return 
 from New York, tradition is silent. 
 
 Hale, on his return, had reached in safety the point on 
 the Long Island shore where he first landed, and prepared 
 to recross the sound at Norwalk the next morning, ^tie 
 wore shoes with loose inner soles. Between the soles he 
 had concealed the accurate drawings he had made of fortifi- 
 cations, etc., and also his memoranda, written in Latin on 
 thin paper^ He had given directions for the boat, from 
 which he had landed, to come for him on a designated 
 morning, which would be the next after his return. Satis- 
 fied that he was safe from harm, for he was remote from a 
 British post, and happy with the thought that his perilous 
 mission was ended successfully and that he should render 
 his country most important service, he awaited the coming 
 morning with patience and serenity of mind. 
 
 Feeling secure in his simple dress and disguised manner, 
 Hale entered the tavern of the Widow Chichester, at " The 
 Cedars." A number of persons were in the room. A mo- 
 ment afterward, a man, whose face seemed familiar to him, 
 suddenly departed and was not seen again. 
 
 Hale passed the night at the tavern, and at dawn went 
 out to look for the expected boat. To his great joy he saw 
 one moving toward the shore, with several men in it. Not 
 doubting they were his friends, he hastened toward the 
 beach, where, as the vessel touched the shore, he was 
 astounded by the sight of a barge bearing British marines. 
 He turned to flee, when a loud voice called, " Surrender or 
 die ! " Looking back he saw six men standing erect, with 
 muskets leveled at him. r^He was seized, taken into the 
 barge, and conveyed to the British guard-ship Halifax,
 
 i8 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Captain Quarnef which was anchored behind a point ot 
 wooded land of Lloyd's Neck. 
 
 It has been asserted that the man who so suddenly de- 
 parted from the room of the tavern at " The Cedars " when 
 Hale entered was a Tory cousin of his, a dissipated fellow, 
 who recognized his kinsman in disguise and betrayed him 
 into the hands of the enemy ; but there is no warrant for 
 such an accusation. 
 
 Hale's captors stripped and searched him, and found the 
 evidences of his being a spy in the papers concealed be- 
 tween the soles of his shoes. These formed as positive tes- 
 
 
 -^jsasa^i. ..' in' f ' 
 
 
 THE BEEKMAN MANSION. 
 
 timony as to his true character as did the papers found in 
 Andre's boot, which convicted the adjutant-general of the 
 British army of being a spy. 
 
 X^aptain Hale was taken in one of the boats of the Halt-
 
 NATHAN HALE. ! 9 
 
 fax to General Howe's headquarters, at the elegant mansion 
 of James Beekman, at Mount Pleasant, as the high bank of 
 the East River at Turtle Bay was called. The house was 
 situated at (present) Fifty-first Street and First Avenue. It 
 was then deserted by its stanch Whig owner. Around it 
 
 I- 
 
 .*M 
 
 BEEKMAN'S GREENHOUSE. 
 
 were beautiful lawns and blooming gardens ; and near it 
 was a greenhouse filled with exotic shrubbery and plants.* 
 In that greenhouse Hale was confined, under a strong 
 guard, on Saturday night, the 2ist of September. He had 
 
 * I made a sketch of the Beekman mansion in 1849, and of the greenhouse in 
 1852, a few days before it was demolished, with all the glories of the garden, at 
 Mount Pleasant ; for, at the behest of the Street Commissioner, streets were opened 
 through the whole Beekman domain. The site of the greenhouse was in the 
 center of (present) Fifty-second Street, a little east of First Avenue. It was erected 
 with the mansion in 1764. The mansion was occupied, during the war, as head- 
 quarters by Generals Howe, Clinton, and "Robertson. It was the residence of the 
 Brunswick General Riedesel and his family in the summer of 1780. General 
 Carleton occupied it in 1783. 
 3
 
 20 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 been taken before Howe, who, without trial, and upon the 
 evidence found in his shoes, condemned him to be hanged 
 early the next morning. Howe delivered him into the cus- 
 tody of William Cunningham, the notorious British provost- 
 marshal, with orders to execute him before sunrise the next 
 day. 
 
 /this severity, nay, absolute inhumanity, was doubtless 
 the result of great irritation of the minds of the British offi- 
 cers at that moment. They had looked upon the little city 
 of New York, containing twenty thousand inhabitants, as a 
 most comfortable place for their winter-quarters. On the 
 very morning when Hale was arrested (at a little past mid- 
 night), a fearful conflagration was accidentally begun at a low 
 tavern on the wharf near Whitehall Slip (now Staten Island 
 Ferry). Swiftly the flames spread, and were not quenched 
 until about five hundred buildings were consumed. The 
 British believed, and so declared, that the fire was the work 
 of Whig incendiaries, to deprive the army of comforts. The 
 city was yet ablaze while Hale was lying in Beekman's 
 greenhouse, awaiting his doom in the early morning./ 
 
 When Hale was taken before Howe, he frankly acknowl- 
 edged his rank and his purpose as a spy. He firmly but re- 
 spectfully told of his success in getting information in the 
 British camps, and. expressed his regret that he had not 
 been able to serve his country better. " I was present at 
 this interview," wrote a British officer, " and I observed that 
 the frankness, the manly bearing, and the evident disinter- 
 ested patriotism of the handsome young prisoner, sensibly 
 touched a tender chord of General Howe's nature ; but the 
 stern rules of war concerning such offenses would not allow 
 him to exercise even pity."
 
 NATHAN HALE. 2 I 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LONG before daybreak of a Christian Sabbath, Nathan 
 Hale was marched to the place of execution, in the vicinity 
 of (present) (East Broadway and Market Street. He was 
 escorted by a file of soldiers, and there delivered to the pro- 
 vost-marshal. The young commander of a British detach- 
 ment lying near, told Captain William Hull that on Hale's 
 arrival he requested Cunningham to allow him to sit in his 
 (the officer's) marquee while waiting for the necessary prepa- 
 rations. The boon was granted. /Hale requested the pres- 
 ence of a chaplain ; it was denied. He asked for a Bible ; it 
 was refused. At the solicitation of the compassionate young 
 officer in whose tent Hale sat, he was allowed to write brief 
 letters to his mother, sisters, and the young maiden to whom 
 he was betrothed ; * but, when they were handed to the pro- 
 vost-marshal to cause them to be forwarded, that officer read 
 them. He grew furious as he perceived the noble spirit 
 which breathed in every sentence, and with coarse oaths 
 and foul epithets he tore them into shreds before the face of 
 his young victim. Hale gave Cunningham a withering 
 glance of scorn, and then resumed his usual calmness and 
 
 * Her name was Alice Adams. She was a native of Canterbury, Connecticut, 
 and was distinguished both for her intelligence and personal beauty. After Hale's 
 death she married Eleazar Ripley, who left her a widow, with one child, at the age 
 of eighteen years. The child died about a year after its father's death, and the 
 mother subsequently married William Lawrence, of Hartford, where she lived until 
 September, 1845, when she died at the age of eighty-eight years. She possessed a 
 miniature of Hale and many of his letters. The miniature and the letters disap- 
 peared many years ago, and there is no likeness of the young martyr extant. The 
 last words uttered by Hale's betrothed were, " Write to Nathan ! " Stuart's " Life 
 of Nathan Hale," p. 28.
 
 22 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 dignity of demeanor. The provost-marshal afterward said 
 that he .destroyed the epistles "that the rebels should never 
 know that they had a man who could die with such firm- 
 ness." 
 
 CUNNINGHAM DESTROYING MALE'S LETTERS. 
 
 It was in the morning twilight of a beautiful September 
 day that Hale was led out to execution. The gallows was
 
 NATHAN HALE. 23 
 
 the limb of an apple-tree in Colonel Rutgers's orchard.* 
 Even at that early hour quite a large number of men and 
 women had gathered to witness the sad scene. Cunning- 
 ham watched every arrangement with evident satisfaction ; 
 and, when everything was ready for the last scene in the 
 tragedy, he scoffingly demanded of his victim his " last 
 dying speech and confession ! " 
 
 The soul of the young martyr, patriot, and hero, who 
 was standing upon the fatal ladder f with his eyes turned 
 heavenward, was then in secret communion with his Maker, 
 and his mortal ears seemed closed to earthly sounds. He 
 did not notice the insulting words of the human fiend. A 
 moment afterward he looked benignly upon the evidently 
 sympathetic spectators, and with a calm, clear voice pro- 
 nounced the last words uttered by him : 
 
 " I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my 
 country ! " 
 
 * The place of Hale's execution has been a subject of conjecture. Some have 
 supposed that it occurred near the Beekman mansion, Howe's headquarters ; others, 
 that he was taken from the Provost Prison (now the Hall of Records), in the City 
 Hall Park, to the usual place of execution of state criminals, at the Barracks near 
 Chambers Street ; and others, on the farm of Colonel Rutgers, whose country man- 
 sion was near the East River at Pike and Monroe Streets. 
 
 In 1849 I visited the venerable Jeremiah Johnson, ex-Mayor of Brooklyn, who 
 was living at his farm-house not far from the Navy- Yard, then between the city of 
 Brooklyn and the village of Williamsburgh. Among other interesting facts concern- 
 ing the Revolution, of his own experience and observation, which he had treasured in 
 his memory, was that his father was present at the execution of Hale. Like other 
 Long Island farmers at that time, he went to New York occasionally with truck. 
 On the day of the great fire he was there, when himself and his team were pressed 
 into the service of the British. He was with the detachment on Colonel Rutgers's 
 farm at the time of the execution, and saw the martyr hanged upon the limb of an 
 apple-tree in Rutgers's orchard. It was at the west side, not far from the line of 
 (present) East Broadway. 
 
 f The method employed at military executions at that time was to place a ladder 
 against the gallows-beam or limb, cause the prisoner to ascend it a few feet, and, 
 at a given signal, turn the ladder and leave the victim suspended.
 
 24 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 The women wept ; some of them sobbed audibly. The 
 sublime and burning words of the victim about to be sacri- 
 ficed upon the altar of liberty, and the visible tokens of sym- 
 pathy among those who witnessed the scene, maddened the 
 coarse-natured and malignant provost-marshal.* He cried 
 out in a voice hoarse with anger, " Swing the rebel off ! " and 
 cursed the tearful women with foul imprecations, calling 
 them rebels and harlots! 
 
 (So ended, in an atmosphere of mingled Christian faith, 
 fortitude, and hope, and of savage barbarism and brutality, 
 the beautiful life-drama of Nathan Hale, the early martyr 
 for the cause of human freedom in the grand struggle for 
 the independence of our country. It is a cause for just re- 
 proach of our people that their history, poetry, oratory, and 
 art have, for more than a century, neglected to erect a fit- 
 ting memorial to his memory either in the literature of the 
 land he so loved that he freely gave his young life a sacrifice 
 for its salvation from bondage, or in bronze or marble. No- 
 where in our broad domain, stretching from sea to sea, 
 teeming with almost sixty million freemen, is there even a 
 mural tablet seen with the name of Nathan Hale upon it, 
 excepting a small monument in his native town, overlooking 
 
 * The pen of every writer who has noticed the career of William Cunningham, 
 the notorious provost-marshal of the British army in New York and Philadelphia, 
 has portrayed him as a most detestable character. To the credit of the commander 
 with whom he served, be it said that it is satisfactorily proven that he was employed 
 directly by the British ministry, and was independent of the authority of Howe and 
 Clinton. He was a large, burly, red-haired, red-faced Irishman, syUj^years of age, 
 addicted to strong drink to excess, and with most forbidding features. His cruel- 
 ties and crimes committed while in charge of prisoners of war in New York were 
 notorious and monstrous. Upon the scaffold in England, after the war, he con- 
 fessed that he had caused the death of fully two thousand prisoners under his 
 charge by starvation and otherwise. He put poison into their food at times, and 
 sold their rations for his own benefit, allowing the prisoners to starve !
 
 Los Angeles. Cat. 
 NATHAN HALE. 25 
 
 the graves of his kindred, in an obscure church-yard, which 
 was erected forty years ago.J} 
 
 The body of the martyr was laid in the earth near the 
 spot where his spirit left it. A British officer was sent to 
 acquaint Washington with his fate. A rude stone placed by 
 the side of the grave of his father, in the burial-ground of 
 the Congregational Church in his native town, for long 
 years revealed to passers-by the fact that it was in com- 
 memoration of " Nathan Hale, Esq., a captain in the army of 
 the United States, who was born June 6, 1755, received the 
 first honors of Yale College, September, 1773," and "re- 
 signed his life a sacrifice to his country's liberty at New 
 York^September 22, 1776, aged twenty-two." An entry of 
 his death was made upon the town records of Coventry. 
 
 Late in November, 1837 sixty-one years after his sacri- 
 fice the citizens of Coventry formed a " Hale Monument 
 Association " for the purpose of raising funds for the erec- 
 tion of a suitable memorial to the memory of the young 
 patriot. The association applied in vain to Congress for 
 aid. By fairs, tea-parties, private dramatic performances, 
 and other social appliances, carried on chiefly by the gentler 
 sex, and a grant of twelve hundred dollars by the State of 
 Connecticut, a sufficient sum was secured in 1846 to erect 
 the desired monument. 
 
 At one of the fairs, a poem, addressed to " The Daugh- 
 ters of Freedom," and printed on white satin, was offered 
 for sale, and was widely distributed. It contained the fol- 
 lowing verses : 
 
 " Ye come with hearts that oft have glowed 
 
 At his soul-stirring tale, 
 To wreath the deathless evergreen 
 Around the name of Hale.
 
 26 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 THE HALE MONUMENT AT COVENTRY.
 
 NATHAN HALE. 2 J 
 
 " Here his memorial stone shall rise 
 
 In freedom's hallowed shade, 
 Prouder than Andre's trophied tomb 
 'Mid mightiest monarchs laid." 
 
 The Hale memorial stands upon elevated ground near 
 the Congregational Church in South Coventry, and by the 
 side of the old burial-ground in which repose the remains of 
 his nearest kindred. Toward the north it overlooks the 
 beautiful Lake Waugumbaug, in the pellucid waters of which 
 Hale angled in his boyhood and early youth. 
 
 The monument was designed by Henry Austin, of New 
 Haven, and was erected under the superintendence of Solo- 
 mon Willard, the architect of the Bunker's Hill Monument. 
 It was completed in the summer of 1846, at a cost of three 
 thousand seven hundred and thirty-four dollars. The mate- 
 rial is Quincy granite. Its form is seen in the engraving. 
 The height is forty-five feet, and it is fourteen feet square at 
 its base. The pedestal bears on its four sides the following 
 inscriptions : 
 
 North side: "'CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, 1776." West 
 side: "Born at Coventry, June 6, 1755." East side : "Died 
 at New York, September 22, 1776." South side : " I REGRET 
 
 THAT I HAVE BUT ONE LIFE TO LOSE FOR MY COUNTRY." 
 
 \ The fate of young Hale produced universal sorrow in 
 the Continental army and among the patriotic people. In 
 the Whig newspapers of the day tributes to his worth as a 
 man and a patriot appeared in both prose and verse.* Dur- 
 
 * A ballad was written and published, soon after Hale's death, which was very 
 popular at the time. It was evidently written by one who was not well informed 
 as to the true history of the matter. Of his arrest the ballad says : 
 " Cooling shades of the night were coming apace, 
 
 The tattoo had beat, the tattoo had beat, 
 The noble one sprang from his dark lurking-place, 
 To make his retreat, to make his retreat.
 
 28 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 ing the War of 1812'-! 5, a little fort, erected upon Black 
 Rock, at the entrance to New Haven Harbor, on the site of 
 a smaller one, built during the Revolution, was named Fort 
 Hale, the first monument of stone that commemorated him. 
 It has long been in ruins. Then followed the simple struct- 
 ure built by his neighbors at Coventry. Brief notices of 
 the martyr have been given from time to time in occasional 
 poetic effusions and /in oratory. Timothy D wight, Hale's 
 tutor at Yale College, and afterward president ol that insli- 
 tution, wrote : 
 
 " Thus while fond Virtue wished in vain to save, 
 HALE, bright and generous, found a hapless grave ; 
 With genius' living flame his bosom glowed, 
 And Science lured him to her sweet abode. 
 In Worth's fair path his feet adventured far, 
 The pride of peace, the rising hope of war ; 
 In duty firm, in danger calm as even. 
 To friends unchanging, and sincere to Heaven. 
 How short his course, the prize how early won ! 
 While weeping Friendship mourns her favorite gone." 
 
 I. W. Stuart, in his little biography of Hale,* has pre- 
 served fragments of several poetic effusions. A short time 
 after Hale's death, an unknown personal friend of the mar- 
 tyr wrote a poem of one hundred and sixty lines, in which 
 he described the personal appearance of the young soldier 
 
 " He warily trod on the dry, rustling leaves 
 
 As he passed through the wood, as he passed through the wood, 
 And silently gained his rude launch on the shore, 
 
 As she played with the flood, as she played with the flood. 
 
 " The guards of the camp on that dark, dreary night 
 
 Had a murderous will, a murderous will ; 
 They took him and bore him afar from the shore, 
 To a hut on the hill, to a hut on the hill." 
 
 * " Life of Captain Nathan Hale, the Martyr Spy of the American Revolution." 
 By I. W. Stuart, Hartford, 1856.
 
 NATHAN HALE. 
 
 29 
 
 tall and with " a beauteous face." Of his qualities of temper 
 and conduct he wrote : 
 
 " Removed from envy, malice, pride, and strife, 
 He walked through goodness as he walked through life ; 
 A kinder brother Nature never knew, 
 A child more duteous or a friend more true." 
 
 Of Hale's motives in becoming a spy he wrote : 
 
 " Hate of oppression's arbitrary plan, 
 The love of freedom, and the rights of man ; 
 A strong desire to save from slavery's chain 
 The future millions of the Western main." 
 
 The poet follows him in his career until he enters upon 
 his perilous mission under instructions from Washington. 
 Of the final scene he wrote : 
 
 " Not Socrates or noble Russell died, 
 Or gentle Sidney, Britain's boast and pride, 
 Or gen'rous Moore, approached life's final goal, 
 With more composed, more firm and stable soul." 
 
 J. S. Babcock, of Coventry, wrote in the metre of Wolfe's 
 " Sir John Moore " : 
 
 " He fell in the spring of his early prime, 
 With his fair hopes all around him ; 
 He died for his birth-land a ' glorious crime ' 
 Ere the palm of his fame had crowned him. 
 
 " He fell in her darkness he lived not to see 
 
 The noon of her risen glory ; 
 
 But the name of the brave, in the hearts of the free, 
 Shall be twined in her deathless glory." 
 
 In a poem delivered before the Linonian Society of Yale 
 College, at its centennial anniversary in 1853, a society of 
 which Hale was a member, Francis M. Finch said, in allu- 
 sion to the martyr :
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " To drum-beat and heart-beat, 
 
 A soldier marches by ; 
 There is color on his cheek, 
 
 There is courage in his eye ; 
 Yet to drum-beat and heart-beat 
 In a moment he must die. 
 
 " By starlight and moonlight 
 He seeks the Briton's camp ; 
 
 He hears the rustling flag. 
 
 And that armed sentry's tramp ; 
 
 And the starlight and moonlight 
 His silent wanderings lamp. 
 
 " With slow tread, and still tread, 
 He scans the tented line ; 
 
 And he counts the battery-guns 
 By the gaunt and shadowy pine ; 
 
 And his slow tread and still tread 
 Gives no warning sign. 
 
 " The dark wave, the plumed wave, 
 It meets his eager glance, 
 
 And it sparkles 'neath the stars 
 Like the glimmer of a lance ; 
 
 A dark wave, a plumed wave, 
 On an emerald expanse. 
 
 " With calm brow, steady brow, 
 
 He listens to his doom ; 
 In his look there is no fear, 
 
 Nor a shadow trace of gloom ; 
 And with calm brow and steady brow 
 
 He robes him for the tomb. 
 
 " In the long night, the still night, 
 
 He kneels upon the sod ; 
 And the brutal guards withhold 
 
 E'en the solemn Word of God ! 
 In the long night, the still night, 
 He walks where Christ hath trod !
 
 NA THAN HALE, 3 1 
 
 'Neath the blue morn, the sunny morn, 
 
 He dies upon the tree ; 
 And he mourns that he can lose 
 
 But one life for Liberty ; 
 And in the blue morn, the sunny morn 
 
 His spirit-wings are free ! 
 
 " From fame-leaf and angel-leaf, 
 
 From monument and urn, 
 The sad of earth, the glad of heaven, 
 
 His tragic fate shall learn ; 
 And on fame-leaf and angel-leaf 
 
 The name of HALE shall burn ! " 
 
 At the dedication of a monument in 1853, erected on the 
 spot near Tarrytown where Andre was captured, the late 
 Henry J. Raymond, in an address on the occasion, said : 
 
 "At an early stage of the Revolution, NATHAN HALE, 
 captain in the American army, which he had entered, aban- 
 doning brilliant prospects of professional distinction for the 
 sole purpose of defending the liberties of his country gifted, 
 educated, ambitious the equal of Andre in talent, in worth, 
 in ajniable manners, and in every manly quality, and his su- 
 perior in that final test of character the motives by which 
 his acts were prompted and his life was guided laid aside ^> 
 every consideration personal to himself, and entered upon a 
 service of infinite hazard to life and honor, because Wash- 
 ington deemed it important to the sacred cause to which 
 both had been sacredly set apart. Like Andre, he was 
 found in the hostile camp ; like him, though without trial, 
 he was adjudged as a spy ; and, like him, he was con- 
 demned to death. 
 
 " And here the likeness ends. No consoling word, no 
 pitying or respectful look, cheered the dark hours of his 
 doom. He was met with insult at every turn. The sacred
 
 32 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 consolations of the minister of God were denied him ; the 
 Bible was taken from him ; with an excess of barbarity hard 
 to be paralleled in civilized war, his dying letters of farewell 
 to his mother and sisters were destroyed in his presence ; 
 and, uncheered by sympathy, mocked by brutal power, and 
 attended only by that sense of duty, incorruptible, undefiled, 
 which had ruled his life finding a fit farewell in the serene 
 and sublime regret that he had ' but one life to lose for his 
 country ' he went forth to meet the great darkness of an 
 ignominious death. 
 
 " The loving hearts of his early companions have erected 
 a neat monument to his memory in his native town ; but, 
 beyond that little circle, where stands his name recorded ? 
 While the majesty of England, in the person of her sover- 
 eign, sent an embassy across the sea to solicit the remains of 
 Andre at the hands of his foes, that they might be enshrined 
 in that sepulchre where she garners the relics of her mighty 
 and renowned sons 
 
 ' Splendid in their ashes, pompous in the grave,' 
 
 the children of Washington have left the body of HALE to 
 sleep in its unknown tomb, though it be on his native soil, 
 unhonored by any outward observance, unmarked by any 
 memorial stone. Monody, eulogy, monument of marble or 
 of brass, and of letters more enduring than all, have in his 
 own land and in ours given the name and fate of Andr6 to 
 the sorrowing remembrance of all time to come. American 
 genius has celebrated his praises, has sung of his virtues, 
 and exalted to heroic heights his prayer, manly but personal 
 to himself, for choice in the manner of death his dying 
 challenge to all men to witness the courage with which he 
 met his fate. But where, save on the cold page of history,
 
 NATHAN HALE. 
 
 33 
 
 stands the record of HALE ? Where is the hymn that speaks 
 to immortality, and tells of the added brightness and en- 
 hanced glory when his soul joined its noble host ? And 
 where sleep the American of Americans, that their hearts 
 are not stirred to solemn rapture at the thought of the sub- 
 lime love of country which buoyed him not alone ' above the 
 fear of death,' but far beyond all thought of himself, of his 
 fate and his fame, or of anything less than his country and 
 which shaped his dying breath into the sacred sentence 
 which trembled at the last upon his quivering lip ? " 
 
 . These eloquent words have a deeper significance to-day 
 than when they were uttered a generation ago. It is a just 
 reproach to a nation of nearly sixty million freemen, rich 
 and powerful beyond any other people on the globe, that the 
 memory of NATHAN HALE, their self-sacrificing benefactor 
 in purpose, and a true and noble martyr in the cause of the 
 liberty they enjoy, has been, until lately, absolutely neglected 
 by them ; that no " monody, eulogy, monument of marble or 
 of brass," dedicated to him by the public voice, appears any- 
 where in our broad land. But there are now abundant 
 promises that this reproach will be speedily removed. An 
 earnest effort was begun by the " Daily Telegraph," a morn- 
 ing journal of New York city, late in 1885, to procure funds 
 by half-dime or "nickel" subscriptions, sufficient to erect a 
 suitable monument to the memory of NATHAN HALE, in the 
 city of New York, where he suffered martyrdom. There is 
 also a project on foot for the erection of a statue of Hale in 
 the Connecticut State Capitol at Hartford. For this pur- 
 pose the State of Connecticut has appropriated five thou- 
 sand dollars. 
 
 Let the conscience of our people, inspired by gratitude 
 and patriotism, be fairly awakened to the propriety of the
 
 34 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 undertaking, and funds will speedily be forthcoming suffi- 
 cient to erect a magnificent monument in memory of 
 NATHAN HALE, in the city where he died for his country. 
 I recommend, as a portion of the inscription upon the monu- 
 ment, the subjoined epitaph, written fully thirty years ago, 
 by George Gibbs, the ripe scholar and antiquary, who was at 
 one time the librarian of the New York Historical Society :* 
 
 " STRANGER, BENEATH THIS STONE 
 LIES THE DUST OF 
 
 A SPY, 
 WHO PERISHED UPON THE GIBBET ; 
 
 YET 
 THE STORIED MARBLES OF THE GREAT, 
 
 THE SHRINES OF HEROES, 
 ENTOMBED NOT ONE MORE WORTHY OF 
 
 HONOR 
 
 THAN HIM WHO HERE 
 SLEEPS HIS LAST SLEEP. 
 
 NATIONS 
 BOW WITH REVERENCE BEFORE THE DUST 
 
 OF HIM WHO DIES 
 
 A GLORIOUS DEATH, 
 
 URGED ON BY THE SOUND OF THE 
 
 TRUMPET 
 
 AND THE SHOUTS OF 
 
 ADMIRING THOUSANDS. 
 
 BUT WHAT REVERENCE, WHAT HONOR, 
 
 IS NOT DUE TO ONE 
 
 WHO FOR HIS COUNTRY ENCOUNTERED 
 
 EVEN AN INFAMOUS DEATH, 
 
 SOOTHED BY NO SYMPATHY, 
 
 ANIMATED BY NO PRAISE ! 
 
 * A statue in plaster, modeled from a description of Hale's features and person, 
 has been made by E. S. Wood, sculptor. It represents an athletic young man, with 
 his coat and vest removed, his neck and upper portion of his chest bared by the 
 turning down of the collar of his ruffled shirt, and holding in his right hand, which 
 is resting upon his hip, the rope with which he is about to be suspended from the 
 tree. The face of the martyr is an excellent ideal of the character of the young 
 hero.
 
 JOHN ANDRE
 
 .<
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IT is not known whether the place of JOHN ANDRE'S na- 
 tivity was in London or elsewhere in England. His father 
 was a S \vitzer, born in Geneva. He was a merchant in 
 London, where he married a pretty French maiden named 
 Girardot, a native of that city, who in the year 1751 be- 
 came the mother of the famous British spy. 
 
 Of Andre's childhood and early youth very little is 
 known, even of the scenes of his primary education. Later, 
 we find him at the University in Geneva ; and, when he 
 was approaching young manhood, he was distinguished for 
 many accomplishments and solid acquirements. He had 
 mastered several European languages, and was an expert 
 mathematician. He was versed in military science, and had 
 a wide acquaintance with belles-lettres literature. He was an 
 adept in music, dancing, and the arts of design, and was spe- 
 cially commended for his military drawings. 
 
 Andre had a taste and a desire for military life ; but, 
 before he was seventeen years of age, he was called home 
 to take a place in his father's counting-room. At that time 
 his family lived at the Manor House, Clapton, where his 
 father died in the spring of 1769. The family then consisted 
 of the widow, two sons, and three daughters. Of these John 
 was the oldest and Anna was the youngest the " tuneful
 
 3 8 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Anna," as Miss Seward calls her in her " Monody," because 
 of her poetic genius. 
 
 John, though so young, was now a chief manager of his 
 father's business and the head of his mother's household. 
 The summer of 1769 was spent by the family at little vil- 
 lages in the interior of England, in the picturesque region 
 of Lichfield, a famous cathedral town, in which Dr. Johnson 
 was born, and at its grammar-school he and Addison and 
 Garrick received their earlier education. 
 
 In that delightful neighborhood young Andr6 formed an 
 acquaintance with Miss Anna Seward, the bright and charm- 
 ing daughter of Rev. Thomas Seward, canon -resident of 
 Lichfield Cathedral, who lived in the bishop's palace. His 
 daughter, then twenty-two years of age, was already distin- 
 guished as a poet. Her home was the gathering-place of 
 the local literary celebrities of that day Dr. Erasmus Dar- 
 win, author of " The Botanic Garden," and grandfather 
 of the champion of the doctrine of evolution in our day ; 
 Thomas Hayley, author of " The Triumphs of Temper " ; 
 Sir Brooke Boothby, who wrote "Fables and Satires"; 
 Richard Lovell Edgeworth, a "gay Lothario," with some 
 literary pretensions ; Thomas Day, an eccentric philosopher, 
 who wrote the story of " Sandford and Merton," once as 
 popular as " Robinson Crusoe " ; the blind and ill-humored 
 Miss Anna Williams, the biographer of the Emperor Julian ; 
 and other residents or occasional sojourners. 
 
 Miss Seward was the central figure in this literary circle. 
 Her personal beauty, vivacity, wit, and charming conver- 
 sational powers, were very fascinating. Into that galaxy 
 John Andr6 was introduced and gave it additional luster. 
 
 The young London merchant also became acquainted 
 with another maiden near his own age. She is represented
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 39 
 
 as exceedingly lovely in person and character. Her eyes 
 were blue, her hair was of a golden color, and her complex- 
 ion was brilliant, heightened in its charms, perhaps, by a 
 hectic glow upon her cheek the sad prophecy of the early 
 
 HONORA SNEYD. (From a painting by Romney.)* 
 
 fading of youthful beauty and of life. The maiden was 
 Honora Sneyd, an inmate of the family of Canon Seward, 
 and the loved companion of Anna. 
 
 Andre was then eighteen years of age ; a handsome, 
 slender, graceful, and vivacious youth, with features as deli- 
 
 * In a letter to the Right Honorable Lady Butler, dated Lichfield, June 4. 1798, 
 Miss Seward speaks of the picture as follows : " Honora Sneyd, after she became
 
 40 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 cate as those of a girl, and accomplished beyond most young 
 men of his time. He was five feet nine inches in height, 
 dark complexion, dark eyes, brown hair, with a somewhat 
 serious and tender expression. His manners were easy and 
 insinuating. The young couple fell desperately in love with 
 each other at their first meeting. 
 
 Anna was delighted, and she fostered the passion. The 
 lovers were betrothed before the summer was over ; but 
 " Love's young dream " was disturbed. The father of Miss 
 Sneyd and the mother of Andr6 decided that both were too 
 young for wedlock then, and it was agreed that at least two 
 years should intervene between betrothal and nuptials. It 
 was also deemed proper that they should be kept apart as 
 much as possible during that period, in order to test the 
 strength and reality of their attachment, and for other pru- 
 dential reasons. 
 
 With this understanding Andr6 returned to his desk 
 in London, a hundred and twenty miles away. He had 
 sketched two miniatures of Miss Sneyd. One he gave to 
 Anna Seward, the other he placed in a locket and carried 
 it in his bosom. He also arranged for a correspondence 
 between Miss Seward and himself, of which Honora was to 
 be the chief burden. Three of these letters have been pre- 
 served, and are printed in this volume. " His epistolary 
 writings," says Dr. Sparks, " so far as specimens of them 
 have been preserved, show a delicacy of sentiment, a play- 
 
 Mrs. Edgeworth, sat to Smart, at that time a celebrated miniature-painter. He 
 totally missed the likeness which Major Andre had, from his then inexperience in 
 the art, so faintly and with so little justice to her beauty, caught. Romney acci- 
 dentally, and without ever having beheld her, produced it completely. Yes, he 
 drew, to represent the Serena of the ' Triumph of Temper,' his own abstract idea 
 of perfect loveliness, and the form of the face of Honora Sneyd rose beneath his 
 pencil." Serena is represented reading by candle-light.
 
 Los Angeles. Cal. 
 JOHN ANDRE. 4I 
 
 fulness of imagination, and an ease of style, which could 
 proceed only from native refinement and a high degree of 
 culture." 
 
 Andre had an aversion to mercantile pursuits, and had 
 told his Lichfield friends that he greatly preferred the mili- 
 tary profession. Miss Seward urged him to stick to his 
 desk, as -the only sure promise of a competence which would 
 enable him to marry Honora. Her persuasion prevailed, 
 and he resolved to remain a merchant, for a time at least. 
 In one of his letters to her he wrote : 
 
 " I know you will 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 inclination for 
 it. ... When an impertinent consciousness 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 seems 
 oppressive." 
 
 This correspondence was kept up several months, but 
 Andre's suit did not prosper. Distance, separation, and 
 various circumstances cooled the ardor of Miss Sneyd's love 
 for her young admirer, and correspondence between them 
 ceased. She had other suitors ; and, in 1773, she mar- 
 ried Richard Lovell Edgeworth, a gay young widower of 
 twenty-five, who possessed a handsome fortune in the form 
 of a fine estate in Ireland. Honora be'came the mother of 
 Maria Edgeworth, the novelist. She died of consumption 
 a few years afterward. In compliance with her dying re- 
 quest, her husband married her sister Elizabeth for his third 
 wife. 
 
 Andre remained faithful to his first love, and carried 
 Honora's miniature in his bosom until he died. He aban-
 
 4 2 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 doned the mercantile business in 1771, joined the royal army 
 with the commission of lieutenant in 1772, and went over to 
 Germany. He joined his regiment the Royal English 
 Fusileers in Canada, late in 1774, having made a farewell 
 visit to his stanch friend Miss Seward before he sailed for 
 America. During that visit a singular circumstance oc- 
 curred. Miss Seward took Andre a little distance from 
 Lichfield to call upon two literary friends, Mr. Cunning- 
 ham, and a curate, the Rev. Mr. Newton. She had apprised 
 them of the intended visit. 
 
 Mr. Cunningham afterward related to Miss Seward a sin- 
 gular dream he had on the night before this visit. He was 
 in a great forest. A horseman approached at full speed. As 
 he drew near, three men suddenly sprang from their conceal- 
 ment in bushes, seized the rider, and took him away. The 
 appearance of the captive's face was deeply impressed upon 
 the dreamer's memory. He awoke, fell asleep again, and 
 dreamed. He was now in a vast crowd of people, near a 
 great city. The man whom he saw captured in the forest 
 was now brought forth and hanged. This dream was related 
 to the curate the next morning, and when, a while afterward, 
 Miss Seward with her friend arrived, Mr. Cunningham rec- 
 ognized in Andre the person he saw captured and hanged. 
 
 Other presaging visions concerning Andre's fate have 
 been related, some of them being undoubtedly pure fiction. 
 For example : Soon after the evacuation of Philadelphia by 
 the British in 1778, and the Americans had taken posses- 
 sion of the city, some of the Continental officers gave a 
 dinner-party to Washington at a spacious mansion in the 
 suburbs, once belonging to one of the Penn family. At that 
 banquet were two ladies who had known Major Andr6 dur- 
 ing the British occupation, and had dined with him at this
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 43 
 
 Penn mansion. As they were passing through a grove near 
 the house on that occasion, they both saw at the same mo- 
 ment the body of a man suspended from a limb, and recog- 
 nized his features as those of Andre. They spoke of the 
 vision at the table, and were laughed at ; even Washington 
 joining in the merriment. This ghost-story may be thus 
 disposed of : Washington was not in Philadelphia at any 
 time in the year 1778. At the time above mentioned he was 
 chasing Sir Henry Clinton across New Jersey. 
 
 The following account appears to be well authenticated : 
 A feminine friend of Miss Mary Hannah, a sister of Andre, 
 shared a bed with her one night at about the time of her 
 brother's execution. The friend was awakened by the loud 
 sobs of Miss Andre, who said she had seen her brother made 
 a prisoner. Her friend soothed her into quiet, and both fell 
 asleep. Soon Miss Andr6 again awoke her friend, and said 
 she had again seen her brother on trial as a spy. She de- 
 scribed the scene with great particularity. Again she was 
 quieted, and both fell asleep. Again she aroused her friend 
 by screaming, " They are hanging him ! " They both made 
 a memorandum of the affair. The next mail brought the sad 
 news of Andre's execution at about the time when his sister, 
 Mary Hannah, saw him in her vision. 
 
 Lieutenant Andre journeyed from England to Quebec, 
 by way of Philadelphia. Why did he take this roundabout 
 course? He arrived at Philadelphia in September (1774), 
 just after the first Continental Congress began its session 
 there. His abilities as a keen observer of men and things 
 were well known to General Carleton, the Governor of 
 Canada, who arrived at Quebec from England while Andre 
 was in Philadelphia. May not that astute officer have di- 
 rected Andre, before he left England, to go to Philadelphia
 
 44 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 as a spy, to learn what he could of the condition of public 
 affairs, and the temper of the people in the disturbed colo- 
 nies, and especially the designs of the Continental Congress? 
 From Philadelphia he went to New York and Boston, and 
 thence by water to Quebec, everywhere traveling, without 
 recognition, in citizen's dress. He undoubtedly carried to 
 Carleton much valuable information which that wide-awake 
 officer desired to know. Andre" arrived at Quebec early in 
 November. 
 
 A year later Lieutenant Andr6 was made a prisoner of 
 war when Montgomery captured the fort at St. Johns, on 
 the Sorel. " I have been taken a prisoner by the Americans," 
 Andr6 wrote to Miss Seward, " and stripped of everything 
 except the picture of Honora, which I concealed in my 
 mouth. Preserving this, I yet think myself fortunate." He 
 and his fellow-prisoners were taken first to Connecticut, and 
 then to Lancaster and Carlisle in Pennsylvania. There he 
 made many friends by his urbanity, his refined tastes, and 
 his accomplishments. He taught the children of citizens 
 the art of drawing in a free and easy style ; and he was a 
 welcome guest in the higher social circles, was made a par- 
 ticipant in all their pleasure-parties, and so added to their 
 own enjoyments. 
 
 Toward the close of 1776 Andr6 was exchanged and 
 joined the British army in New York, then commanded by 
 General Howe. To that officer he presented a memoir on 
 the existing war, which was very favorably received. He had 
 kept a journal ever since he came to America, in which both 
 pen and pencil were jointly employed in the delineation and 
 description of everything of interest which came under his 
 observation, and this furnished him with much material for 
 his memoir. Howe was delighted with his young soldier,
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 45 
 
 and as soon as a vacancy occurred he gave him the position 
 of aide on the staff of General Grey, with the rank of cap- 
 tain. He was now fairly in the line of promotion which his 
 signal abilities entitled him to receive. 
 
 Andre served with distinction as a staff-officer. He was 
 the soul of the military social circle during the occupation 
 of Philadelphia by the British army in the winter and spring 
 of 1778. His pen, his pencil, and his brush, were continually 
 busy in satirizing and caricaturing the " rebel " officers, or 
 in dramatic exhibitions. He was a leader in all the social 
 amusements of the army, the chief of which were theatrical 
 performances. In these Andre was dramatist, actor, song- 
 writer, and manager. He wrote prologues and localized 
 plays, and was the chief manager of weekly balls. In a 
 word, he was leader in setting on foot scenes of gayety and 
 extravagance that were long remembered and lamented. 
 Andre occupied the house of Dr. Franklin for several 
 months. He carried away some valuable books. 
 
 Many of the young officers were scions of the British 
 nobility, and possessed ample means for the gratification of 
 any desire. The infection of demoralization that spread 
 through the army and society was fearful. The army suf- 
 fered much. Dr. Franklin said, " Howe did not take Phila- 
 delphia Philadelphia took Howe." Cupid scattered his 
 darts so widely and with such effect among the soldiers, 
 that in the flight of the British army across New Jersey, on 
 the evacuation of Philadelphia, fully six hundred soldiers 
 deserted and returned to their sweethearts and lately mar- 
 ried wives. 
 
 Many of the fair daughters of the Philadelphia loyalists 
 were captivated by the young British officers. Among the 
 latter was not one more fascinating than Major Andre, and
 
 46 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 no one was more welcome into the best society. He formed 
 warm friendships with several leading families ; among 
 others, that of Edward Shippen, one of the wealthiest and 
 most cultivated citizens, whose youngest daughter married 
 General Benedict Arnold. 
 
 Late in May, 1778, General Howe surrendered the com- 
 mand of the army into the hands of Sir Henry Clinton, and 
 prepared to return to England. The officers of the army, 
 who were very much attached to him, resolved to give him 
 a spectacular parting entertainment which should eclipse in 
 novelty and splendor anything ever seen in America. In the 
 conception and preparation of the entertainment the genius 
 of Andr6, in all its phases, was brought into requisition. He 
 designed the decorations, the costumes to be worn, even 
 the ticket of admission to the show. The entertainment was 
 called Mischianza a medley. It was given at the country- 
 seat of Thomas Wharton, a Philadelphia Quaker a fine, 
 stately mansion, with spacious grounds around it, standing 
 near the present navy-yard. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN a letter to his friend Miss Seward, dated Philadelphia, 
 May 23, 1778, Major Andr6 gave the following account of 
 the great fte in honor of General Howe : 
 
 " That our sentiments might be the more unreservedly 
 and unequivocally known, it was resolved among us that 
 we should give him as splendid an entertainment as the 
 shortness of the time and our present situation would allow 
 us. For the expenses the whole army would most cheer- 
 fully have contributed ; but it was requisite to draw the
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 47 
 
 line somewhere, and twenty-two field-officers joined in a 
 subscription adequate to a plan they meant to adopt. I 
 know your curiosity will be raised on this occasion ; I shall, 
 therefore, give you as particular an account of our Mischi- 
 anza* as I have been able to collect. 
 
 " From the name you will perceive that it was made up 
 from a variety of entertainments. Four of the gentlemen 
 subscribers were appointed managers Sir John Wrottesley, 
 Colonel O'Hara, Major Gardiner, and Montressor, the chief 
 
 THE MISCHIANZA TICKET. (Drawn by Major Andre.) t 
 
 engineer. On the tickets of admission which they gave out 
 for Monday, the iSth, was engraved, in a shield, a view 
 of the sea, with the setting sun, and in a wreath the words 
 
 * This account was printed in the " Lady's Magazine," with which Miss Seward 
 had a literary connection, in August, 1778. 
 f This is one half the size of the original.
 
 4 8 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 ' Luceo discedens, aucto splendore resurgam! At top was the 
 general's crest, with 'vive/ va.le! ' All round the shield ran a 
 vignette, and various military trophies filled up the ground.* 
 " A grand regatta began the entertainment. It consisted 
 of three divisions. In the first place was the Ferret galley, 
 having on board several general officers and a number of 
 ladies. In the center was the Hussar gal- 
 ley, with Sir William and Lord Howe, 
 Sir Henry Clinton, the officers of their 
 suite, and some ladies. The Cornwallis 
 galley brought up the rear, having on 
 board General Knyphausen and his 
 suite, the British generals, and a party 
 of ladies. On each quarter of these gal- 
 leys, and forming their division, were 
 five flat-boats, lined with green cloth, 
 and filled with ladies and gentlemen. 
 In front of the whole were three flat- 
 boats, with a band of music in each. 
 Six barges rowed about each flank, to 
 keep off the swarm of boats that cov- 
 ered the river from side to side. The 
 galleys were dressed out in a variety of colors and streamers, 
 and on each flat-boat was displayed the flag of its own divis- 
 ion. In the stream opposite the center of the city the Fanny, 
 
 * I copied this ticket from one of the originals in the Franklin Library, at Phila- 
 delphia, in 1848. It is attached, with drawings of a head-dress for the Mischianza, 
 and a portrait of Captain Cathcart, a son of Lord Cathcart, to his manuscript 
 " Annals of Philadelphia," deposited with this institution by the late John F. 
 Watson, Esq. The designs for the ticket and the other sketches were made by 
 Andre ; and a silhouette of Sir John Wrottesley, one of the managers, was cut by 
 Andre". They were presented to Mr. Watson by Miss Craig, a participant in the 
 fete. She was the chosen lady of the Second Knight of the Blended Rose. An- 
 dre's drawings for the costumes of the Ladies of the Blended Rose and Burning 
 
 LADY'S HEAD-DRESS. 
 (Drawn by Major Andre.)
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 49 
 
 armed ship, magnificently decorated, was placed at anchor ; 
 and at some distance ahead lay his Majesty's ship Roebuck, 
 with the admiral's flag hoisted at the foretopmast-head. The 
 transport ships, extending in a line the whole length of the 
 town, appeared with colors flying and crowded with spec- 
 tators, as were also the openings of the several wharves on 
 the shore, exhibiting the most picturesque and enlivening 
 scene the eye could desire. The rendezvous was at Knight's 
 wharf, at the north end of the city."* 
 
 After giving an account of the aquatic procession down 
 the river, Andre continues : 
 
 " The landing-place was the Old Fort, a little to the south- 
 ward of the town,f fronting the building prepared for the 
 reception of the company, about four hundred yards from 
 the water by a gentle ascent. As soon as the general's barge 
 was seen to push for the shore, a salute of seventeen guns 
 was fired from the Roebuck, and, after some interval, by the 
 same number by the Vigilant. The company, as they dis- 
 embarked, arranged themselves into a line of procession, 
 and advanced through an avenue formed by the two files 
 of grenadiers, and a line of light horse supporting each file. 
 This avenue led to a square lawn of two hundred and fifty 
 yards on each side, lined with troops, and properly prepared 
 for the exhibition of a tilt and tournament, according to the 
 customs and ordinances of ancient chivalry. We proceeded 
 
 Mountain are preserved. The form was a polonaise, or a flowing robe of white 
 silk, with a spangled pink sash and spangled shoes and stockings ; a veil spangled 
 and trimmed with silver lace, and a towering head-dress of pearls and jewels. The 
 Ladies of the Burning Mountain had their polonaises and white sashes bound with 
 black. The engraving shows the style of the head-dress, copied from Andre's 
 drawing. 
 
 * A little above Vine Street. 
 
 f A little below the present navy-yard.
 
 50 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 through the center of the square. The music, consisting of 
 all the bands of the army, moved in front. The managers, 
 with favors of white and blue ribbons on their breasts, fol- 
 lowed next in order. The general, admiral, and the rest of 
 the company, succeeded promiscuously. 
 
 " In front of the building, bounding the view through a 
 vista formed by two triumphal arches, erected at proper 
 intervals in a line with the landing-place, two pavilions, 
 with rows of benches rising one above another, and serving 
 as the wings of the first triumphal arch, received the ladies, 
 while the gentlemen ranged themselves in convenient order 
 on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were placed 
 seven of the principal young ladies of the country, dressed 
 in Turkish habits, and wearing on their turbans the favors 
 with which they meant to reward the several knights who 
 were to contend in their honor. These arrangements were 
 scarcely made, when the sound of trumpets was heard at a 
 distance ; and a band of knights, dressed in ancient habits 
 of white and red silk, and mounted on gray horses, richly 
 caparisoned in trappings of the same colors, entered the 
 lists, attended by their esquires on foot, in suitable apparel, 
 in the following order : 
 
 " Four trumpeters, properly habited, their trumpets dec- 
 orated with small pendent banners. A herald in his robes of 
 ceremony ; on his tunic was the device of his band, two roses 
 intertwined, with the motto ' We droop when separated' 
 
 " Lord Cathcart, superbly mounted on a managed horse, 
 appeared as chief of these knights ; two young black slaves, 
 with sashes and drawers of blue and white silk, wearing 
 large silver clasps round their necks and arms, their breasts 
 and shoulders bare, held his stirrups. On his right hand 
 walked Captain Harard, and on his left Captain Brownlow,
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 5I 
 
 and his two esquires, the one bearing his lance, the other his 
 shield. His device was Cupid riding on a lion ; the motto 
 ' Surmounted by Love' His lordship appeared in honor of 
 Miss Auchmuty.* 
 
 " Then came in order the knights of his band, each at- 
 tended by his 'squire, bearing his lance and shield. 
 
 " First knight, Hon. Captain Cathcart,f in honor of Miss 
 N. White. 'Squire, Captain Peters. Device, a heart and 
 sword ; motto ' Love and Honor' 
 
 " Second knight, Lieutenant Bygrove, in honor of Miss 
 Craig. 'Squire, Lieutenant Nichols. Device, Cupid tracing 
 a circle ; motto ' Without End.' 
 
 " Third knight, Captain Andre", in honor of Miss P. 
 Chew.J 'Squire, Lieutenant Andre.* Device, two game- 
 cocks fighting ; motto ' No rival' 
 
 " Fourth knight, Captain Horneck, in honor of Miss N. 
 Redmond. 'Squire, Lieutenant Talbot. Device, a burning 
 heart ; motto ' Absence can not extinguish' 
 
 * Miss Auchmuty was the only English maiden present. She was about to be- 
 come the bride of Captain Montressor, the chief engineer. Watson says there 
 were not more than fifty unmarried American ladies present ; the rest were all 
 married. 
 
 f Captain Cathcart, the son of Lord Cathcart, married a daughter of Andrew 
 Eliot, once a collector of customs at Philadelphia. The young officer had been 
 making love most vehemently to Miss Eliot all winter. She was pretty, lively, and 
 well educated. The captain wrote her many letters, avowing his love for her, but 
 much of his conduct seems to have been mere coquetry. Miss Eliot was in earnest, 
 and received his attentions and his letters as genuine tokens of his love. When it 
 became evident that he meant to deceive her, her father laid his letters before Sir 
 Henry Clinton, of whose military family young Cathcart was a member. Clinton 
 advised the young man to marry Miss Eliot. Cathcart wished to postpone it until 
 the end of the war. Clinton told him he had gone so far that he must marry her 
 speedily or leave his family. They were married in April, 1779. She was after- 
 ward " Lady Cathcart," and appeared at court when her husband became an earl. 
 
 \ A daughter of Chief-Justice Chew. 
 
 * A brother of Captain Andre, then nineteen years of age. After Andre's death, 
 he was knighted by the king.
 
 52 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " Fifth knight, Captain Mathews, in honor of Miss Bond. 
 'Squire, Lieutenant Hamilton. Device, a winged heart ; 
 motto ' Each fair by turns' 
 
 " Sixth knight, Lieutenant Sloper, in honor of Miss M. 
 Shippen.* 'Squire, Lieutenant Brown. Device, a heart and 
 sword ; motto ' Honor and the fair.' ' 
 
 THE JOUST AT THE TOURNAMENT. 
 
 After they had made the circuit of the square, and sa- 
 luted the ladies as they passed before the pavilion, they 
 ranged themselves in a line with that in which were the 
 
 * Afterward the wife of Benedict Arnold.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 53 
 
 ladies of their device ; and their herald (Mr. Beaumont) ad- 
 vancing into the center of the square, after a flourish of 
 trumpets, proclaimed the following challenge : 
 
 " The Knights of the Blended Rose, by me, their herald, 
 proclaim and assert that the Ladies of the Blended Rose 
 excel in wit, beauty, and every accomplishment, those of the 
 whole world ; and should any knight or knights be so hardy 
 as to dispute or deny it, they are ready to enter the lists with 
 them, and maintain their assertions by deeds of arms, accord- 
 ing to the laws of ancient chivalry^" 
 
 At the third repetition of this challenge, the sound of 
 trumpets was heard from the opposite side of the square ; 
 and another herald, with four trumpeters, dressed in black- 
 and-orange, galloped into the lists. He was met by the 
 Herald of the Blended Rose, and, after a short parley, they 
 both advanced in front of the pavilions, when the black her- 
 ald (Lieutenant Moore) ordered his trumpets to sound, and 
 thus proclaimed defiance to the challenge in the following 
 words : 
 
 " The Knights of the Burning Mountain present them- 
 selves here, not to contest by words, but to disprove by 
 deeds, the vainglorious assertions of the Knights of the 
 Blended Rose, and enter these lists to maintain that the 
 Ladies of the Burning Mountain are not excelled in beauty, 
 virtue, or accomplishments, by any in the universe." 
 
 He then returned to the part of the barrier through 
 which he had entered, and shortly afterward the Black 
 Knights, attended by their 'squires, rode into the lists in the 
 following order : 
 
 " Four trumpeters preceding the herald, on whose tunic 
 was represented a mountain sending forth flames ; motto 
 ' / burn forever'
 
 54 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " Captain Watson, of the Guards, as chief, dressed in a 
 magnificent suit of black-and-orange silk, and mounted on a 
 black managed horse, with trappings of the same color with 
 his own dress, appeared in honor of Miss Franks. He was 
 attended in the same manner with Lord Cathcart. Captain 
 Scott bore his lance and Lieutenant Lytton his shield. The 
 device, a heart, with a wreath of flowers ; motto ' Love and 
 glory: 
 
 " First knight, Lieutenant Underwood, in honor of Miss 
 S. Shippen. 'Squire, Ensign Haserkam. Device, a pelican 
 feeding her young ; motto ' For those I love' 
 
 " Second knight, Lieutenant Wingard, in honor of Miss 
 R. P. Shippen. 'Squire, Captain Boscawen. Device, a bay- 
 leaf ; motto ' Unchangeable.' 
 
 " Third knight, Lieutenant Deleval, in honor of Miss B. 
 Bond. 'Squire, Captain Thorne. Device, a heart, aimed at 
 by several arrows, and struck by one ; motto ' Only one 
 pierces me' 
 
 " Fourth knight, Monsieur Montluissent (Lieutenant of 
 the Hessian Chasseurs), in honor of Miss B. Redman. 
 'Squire, Captain Campbell. Device, a sunflower turning 
 toward the sun ; motto l je vise a vous.' 
 
 " Fifth knight, Lieutenant Hobart, in honor of Miss S. 
 Chew. 'Squire, Lieutenant Briscoe. Device, Cupid pierc- 
 ing a coat-of-mail with his arrow ; motto ' Proof to all but 
 love.' 
 
 " Sixth knight, Brigade-Major Tarleton, in honor of Miss 
 W. Smith. 'Squire, Captain Heart. Device, a light dra- 
 goon ; motto' Swift, vigilant, and bold.' 
 
 "After they had rode round the lists, and made their 
 obeisance to the ladies, they drew up, fronting the White 
 Knights ; and the chief of them having thrown down his
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 55 
 
 gauntlet, the Chief of the Black Knights directed his esquire 
 to take it up. The knights then received their lances from 
 their esquires, fixed their shields on their left arms, and, mak- 
 ing a general salute to each other by a very graceful move- 
 ment of their lances, turned round to take their career, and, 
 encountering in full gallop, shivered their spears. In the 
 second and third encounter they discharged their pistols. 
 In the fourth they fought with swords. At length the two 
 chiefs, spurring forward into the center, engaged furiously in 
 single combat, till the marshal of the field (Major Gwyne) 
 rushed in between the chiefs and declared that the Fair 
 Damsels of the Blended Rose and Burning Mountain were 
 perfectly satisfied with the proofs of love and the signal 
 feats of valor given by their respective knights ; and com- 
 manded them, as they prized the future favors of their mis- 
 tresses, that they would instantly desist from further combat. 
 Obedience being paid by the chiefs to the order, they joined 
 their respective bands. The White Knights and their at- 
 tendants filed off to the left, the Black Knights to the right, 
 and, after passing each other at the lower side of the quad- 
 rangle, moved up alternately till they approached the pavil- 
 ion of the ladies, where they gave a general salute. 
 
 " A passage being now opened between the pavilions, the 
 knights, preceded by their 'squires and the bands of music, 
 rode through the first triumphal arch and arranged them- 
 selves to the right and left. This arch was erected in honor 
 of Lord Howe. It presented two fronts, in the Tuscan or- 
 der ; the pediment was adorned with various naval trophies, 
 and at the top was a figure of Neptune, with a trident in his 
 right hand. In a niche on each side stood a sailor with a 
 drawn cutlass. Three plumes of feathers were placed on 
 the summit of each wing, and on the entablature was this
 
 56 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 inscription : ' Laus illi debetur, et a me gratia major' The 
 interval between the two arches was an avenue three hun- 
 dred feet long and thirty-four broad. It was lined on each 
 side with a file of troops ; and the colors of all the army, 
 planted at proper distances, had a beautiful effect in diversi- 
 fying the scene. 
 
 " Between these colors the knights and 'squires took 
 their stations. The bands continued to play several pieces 
 of martial music. The company moved forward in pro- 
 cession, with the ladies in the Turkish habits in front : as 
 these passed they were saluted by their knights, who then 
 dismounted and joined them ; and in this order we were all 
 conducted into a garden that fronted the house, through the 
 second triumphal arch dedicated to the general. This arch 
 was also built in the Tuscan order. On the interior part of 
 the pediment were painted a Plume of Feathers and various 
 military trophies. At the top stood the figure of Fame, and 
 on the entablature these words ' /, bone, quo virtue tua Ic 
 vocet ; I pede fausto! On the right-hand pillar was placed a 
 bomb-shell, and on the left a flaming heart. The front next 
 the house was adorned with preparations for a fire-work. 
 
 " From the garden we ascended a flight of steps covered 
 with carpets, which led into a spacious hall ; the panels, 
 painted in imitation of Sienna marble,* inclosing portions 
 of white marble ; the surbase and all below were black. In 
 this hall, and in the adjoining apartments, were prepared 
 tea, lemonade, and other cooling liquors, to which the com- 
 
 * The painting was done in distemper upon canvas, in the manner of theatrical 
 scene-painting. Andre was assisted in his art-work by Captain Oliver De Lancey, 
 of New York, an energetic leader of loyalists. He married a daughter of David 
 Franks. She was active in the Mischianza affair. Her sister married Colonel 
 Johnson, of the British army, who was in command at Stony Point, on the Hudson, 
 when it was captured by General Wayne in the summer of 1779.
 
 JOHN ANDR& 57 
 
 pany seated themselves ; during which time the knights 
 came in, and on the knee received their favors from their 
 respective ladies. One of these rooms was afterward appro- 
 priated to the use of the Pharaoh table. As you entered it 
 you saw, in a panel over the chimney, a cornucopia, exuber- 
 antly filled with flowers of the richest colors. Over the 
 door, as you went out, another presented itself, shrunk, re- 
 versed, and emptied. 
 
 " From these apartments we were conducted up to a ball- 
 room, decorated in a light, elegant style of painting. The 
 ground was a pale blue, paneled with a small gold bead, and 
 in the interior filled with dropping festoons of flowers in 
 their natural colors. Below the surface the ground was of 
 rose-pink, with drapery festooned in blue. These decora- 
 tions were heightened by eighty-five mirrors, decked with 
 rose-pink silk ribbons and artificial flowers ; and in the inter- 
 mediate spaces were thirty-four branches with wax-lights, 
 ornamented in a similar manner. On the same floor were 
 four drawing-rooms, with sideboards of refreshments, deco- 
 rated and lighted in the same style and taste as the ball- 
 room. 
 
 " The ball was opened by the knights and their ladies, 
 and the dances continued till ten o'clock, when the windows 
 were thrown open, and a magnificent bouquet of rockets be- 
 gan the fire-works. These were planned by Captain Mon- 
 tressor, the chief-engineer, and consisted of twenty different 
 exhibitions, displayed under his directions with the happiest 
 success and in the highest style of beauty. Toward the con- 
 clusion the interior part of the triumphal arch was illumi- 
 nated amid an uninterrupted flight of rockets and bursting 
 balloons. The military trophies on each side assumed a va- 
 riety of transparent colors. The shell and flaming heart on
 
 58 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 the wings sent forth Chinese fountains, succeded by fire- 
 works. Fame appeared at the top, spangled with stars, 
 and from her trumpet blowing the following device in 
 letters of light : ' Les lauriers sont immortels.' A sauteur 
 of rockets bursting from the pediment concluded the feu 
 d'artifice. 
 
 " At twelve supper was announced, and large folding- 
 doors, hitherto artfully concealed, being suddenly thrown 
 open, discovered a magnificent saloon of two hundred and 
 ten feet by forty, and twenty-two in height, with three al- 
 coves on each side, which served for sideboards. The ceil- 
 ing was the segment of a circle, and the sides were painted 
 of a light straw-color, with vine-leaves and festoon-flowers, 
 some in a bright and some in a darkish green. Fifty-six large 
 pier-glasses, ornamented with green silk, artificial flowers, 
 and ribbons ; a hundred branches with three lights in each, 
 trimmed in the same manner as the mirrors ; eighteen lus- 
 ters, each with twenty-four lights, suspended from the ceil- 
 ing, and ornamented as the branches ; three hundred wax- 
 tapers disposed along the supper-tables ; four hundred and 
 thirty covers; twelve hundred dishes; twenty- four black 
 slaves, in Oriental dresses, with silver collars and bracelets, 
 ranged in two lines and bending to the ground as the gen- 
 eral and admiral approached the saloon all these, forming 
 together the most brilliant assemblage of gay objects, and 
 appearing at once as we entered by an easy ascent, exhibited 
 a coup d'ceil beyond description magnificent. 
 
 " Toward the end of the supper the Herald of the 
 Blended Rose, in his habit of ceremony, attended by his 
 trumpeters, entered the saloon, and proclaimed the king's 
 health, the queen and royal family, the army and navy, with 
 their respective commanders, the knights and their ladies,
 
 JOHN ANDR&. 5 9 
 
 and the ladies in general. Each of these toasts was fol- 
 lowed by a flourish of music. After supper we returned 
 to the ball-room and continued to dance until four o'clock." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE Mischianza was severely criticised in Great Britain 
 and America, as an undeserved compliment to an incom- 
 petent officer. Howe was an indolent procrastinator, and 
 fond of sensual indulgence ; and he had not only effected 
 nothing of importance for his country in America, but had 
 hindered more competent men. He was charged by Gal- 
 loway, a Philadelphia Tory then in London, with "a vanity 
 and presumption unparalleled in history, after his indolence 
 and wretched blunders," in accepting from a few officers " a 
 triumph more magnificent than would have become the con- 
 queror of America, without the consent of his sovereign or 
 approbation of his country." 
 
 It is asserted that at Philadelphia Howe was openly 
 licentious, kept a mistress, loved his bottle inordinately, and 
 engaged secretly in business transactions for his own gain, 
 similar to those with which Benedict Arnold was charged, 
 and caused him to be reprimanded by order of Congress. 
 Horace Walpole said, " He returned to England richer in 
 money than in laurels." Another said, " The only bays he 
 possessed were those that drew his carriage " ; and still an- 
 other, that " he has given America to the Americans." And 
 yet staid men, as well as romantic enthusiasts like Andre, did 
 not hesitate to award him honors which only great heroes 
 and most virtuous men deserve. Andre even wrote a ful- 
 some poetic address to be read to Howe during the fite.
 
 60 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 The general exercised good sense by forbidding its utter- 
 ance. 
 
 The extreme folly of the MiscJiianza, under the peculiar 
 circumstances, was deplored by sensible men in and out of 
 the army. When an old British major of artillery, in Phila- 
 delphia, was asked by a young person what was the distinc- 
 tion between the " Knights of the Burning Mountain " and 
 the " Knights of the Blended Rose," the veteran replied : 
 " The ' Knights of the Burning Mountain ' are torn-fools, and 
 the ' Knights of the Blended Rose ' are damned fools ! I know 
 of no other distinction between them." The old soldier, 
 though a Briton, greatly admired Washington. Placing a 
 hand upon each knee, he added, in a tone of deep mortifica- 
 tion, " What will Washington think of this?" 
 
 Just one month after this grand show at Philadelphia, a far 
 grander and more important spectacle was exhibited at that 
 city. It was the sudden flight of the whole British army from 
 the town, across the Delaware and over New Jersey, eagerly 
 pressing toward New York ; also the speedy entrance of Con- 
 tinental troops into Philadelphia, and the return of Congress. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, now in chief command of the British 
 army, was making preparations for a vigorous campaign, 
 when orders came from the ministers to evacuate Phila- 
 delphia at once, to prevent a blockade of the army and navy 
 on the Delaware by a French fleet under D'Estaing, then on 
 its way to America. Clinton obeyed. Washington, with his 
 recuperated army at Valley Forge, pursued and overtook 
 the fugitives near Monmouth Court-House. There, on a 
 very hot Sunday in June (28th), a sanguinary but indecisive 
 battle was fought. That night Clinton secretly stole away 
 with his whole force (while the wearied Americans slept on 
 their arms), and escaped to New York.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 6 1 
 
 Lord Howe had scarcely left the Capes of the Delaware, 
 when D'Estaing appeared. Howe sailed for New York, 
 and anchored his fleet in Raritan Bay. D'Estaing's larger 
 vessels could not enter the shallow waters of the bay, and 
 sailed away for Rhode Island, to assist American troops in 
 expelling the British from that domain. A storm dispersed 
 the two fleets. The attempt at expulsion was a failure. 
 Clinton sailed "with four thousand troops to strengthen Brit- 
 ish power on Rhode Island. Thence he sent General Grey 
 on a marauding expedition to New Bedford and its vicinity, 
 Andre accompanied him, and afterward wrote an amusing 
 poem, to the tune of " Yankee Doodle," entitled " Yankee 
 Doodle's Expedition to Rhode Island."* He also wrote a 
 poem, in eighteen stanzas, giving an amusing account of a 
 duel between Christopher Gadsden, of South Carolina, and 
 General Robert Howe, of the Continental army. This poem 
 may be found in Sargent's " Life and Career of Major An- 
 dre. " Other poems, evidently from Andre's pen, ridiculing 
 the " rebels," frequently appeared in Rivington's " Royal 
 Gazette," until the tragedy that ended his life in the fall 
 of 1780. 
 
 Late in 1778 General Grey returned to England, when 
 Andre took the position of aide to General Clinton, with 
 the rank of provincial major. He evinced such eminent 
 clerical and executive ability that early in 1779 he was 
 made deputy adjutant -general of the British forces in 
 America. 
 
 The city of New York continued to be the headquarters 
 of the British army until the close of the war. Clinton made 
 his quarters at No. i Broadway, a spacious house, with a 
 
 * This poem, with explanatory notes, may be found in Frank Moore's " Ballads 
 of the Revolution."
 
 6 2 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 garden extending to the Hudson River. He also occupied 
 the fine Beekman mansion at Turtle Bay as a summer resi- 
 dence. 
 
 The British officers made the city a theatre of great 
 gayety. They were continually engaged in every kind of 
 amusement, to while away their time when not on active 
 duty. In these amusements Major Andr6 was ever con- 
 spicuous, especially in dramatic performances ; and there he 
 freely indulged his love for good-natured satirical writing. 
 He wrote much for Rivington's " Gazette " in prose and 
 verse political squibs, satires, and lampoons the " rebels " 
 and their doings being his chief theme. 
 
 It was at No. i Broadway that Andre wrote his best- 
 known poem, "The Cow-Chase," in imitation of "Chevy 
 Chase." There he also wrote his most elaborate prose com- 
 position, " A Dream." This he read aloud at a social gath- 
 ering, and it was published in Rivington's paper. In his 
 position on Clinton's staff he was able to exercise his ever- 
 kindly disposition toward the unfortunate, and never left 
 unimproved an opportunity to do so. 
 
 Major Andr was with Sir Henry Clinton on an expe- 
 dition up the Hudson in May, 1779, when the British capt- 
 ured the American post of Stony Point, and Fort Lafayette, 
 on Verplanck's Point, opposite. When the batteries of Fort 
 Lafayette were silenced, Andr6 was sent to receive the sur- 
 render of the garrison and the works. A few weeks later he 
 wrote a friendly letter to Margaret Shippen (then the wife 
 of General Benedict Arnold), in whose family the major had 
 been a great favorite while in Philadelphia. The letter 
 was dated " Headquarters, New York, the i6th of August, 
 1779." He offered to do some "shopping "in New York 
 for Mrs. Arnold, saying :
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 63 
 
 " It would make me very happy to become useful to you 
 here. You know the Mischianza made me a complete mil- 
 liner. Should you not have received supplies for your full- 
 est equipment for that department, I shall be glad to enter 
 into the whole detail of cap-wire, needles, gauze, etc., and to 
 the best of my ability render you in these trifles services 
 from which I hope you would infer a zeal to be further em- 
 ployed. I beg you would present my best respects to your 
 sisters, to the Miss Chews, and to Mrs. Shippen and Mrs. 
 Chew. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, with the greatest regard, 
 madam, your most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 "JOHN ANDRE." 
 
 General Arnold had been made military governor of 
 Philadelphia after the American troops and Congress repos- 
 sessed it. He lived most extravagantly. He kept a coach- 
 and-four, with a coachman in livery ; gave sumptuous din- 
 ner parties, and charmed the gayer portion of Philadelphia 
 society by his princely display. He was keenly watched 
 by men who knew his character well, or envied his suc- 
 cess as a soldier, and he was hated by persons in exalted 
 positions for his many bad qualities. Among the latter was 
 General Joseph Reed, then President of the Executive Coun- 
 cil of Pennsylvania. Early in 1779 that Council submitted 
 to Congress charges against Arnold of being guilty of mal- 
 feasance in office. Congress referred the charges to a com- 
 mittee of inquiry, whose report exculpated the general from 
 all criminality in the matter charged against him. 
 
 Arnold promptly asked Congress to investigate the 
 charges. He regarded this report of the committee as a 
 vindication of his character ; but he immediately urged
 
 64 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Congress to act speedily upon the report. Instead of doing 
 so, the report was referred to a joint committee of Congress 
 and the Executive Council of Pennsylvania. They passed a 
 resolution to refer some of the charges to a court-martial, to 
 be appointed by Washington. When the charges were so 
 referred, Arnold was indignant, but was compelled to sub- 
 mit. He urged prompt action, but a court-martial to try 
 him was not convened until December following. They 
 gave their decision on the 26th of January, 1780. The ac- 
 cused was acquitted of several of the charges, and of " all 
 intentional wrong" in the whole matter of the other charges; 
 but it was decided that, for " imprudent and improper con- 
 duct," he should be reprimanded by the commander-in-chief. 
 This was done in the most delicate manner by Washington ; 
 but, as it implied a stigma upon his character, Arnold was 
 exceedingly indignant. This act doubtless stimulated him 
 in his treasonable undertaking, in which he appears to have 
 been already engaged for fully nine months. Dr. Sparks 
 says : " He [Arnold] had already made secret advances to 
 the enemy under a feigned name, intending to square his 
 conduct according to circumstances ; and prepared, if the 
 court decided against him, to seek revenge at any hazard." 
 
 There appears to be clear evidence that overtures were 
 first made by the other side, probably by Beverly Robinson,* 
 to whom is attributed a letter given by Marbois, who was 
 attached to the French legation at Philadelphia. f Be that 
 as it may, it is known that correspondence between General 
 Arnold and Sir Henry Clinton began so early as the spring 
 
 * Beverly Robinson was a gentleman of fortune, a son-in-law of Frederick Phil- 
 lipse, proprietor of Phillipse Manor on the Hudson, and a very active Tory. 
 
 t See a copy of this letter in the " Life and Career of John Andre," by Win- 
 throp Sargent, p. 447.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 65 
 
 of 1779. Arnold wrote in a disguised hand, and under the 
 assumed name of " Gustavus." The tenor of the correspond- 
 ence was of a commercial character, so as to mislead others. 
 After the exchange of two or three letters, and with the 
 impression that " Gustavus " was an officer of high rank in 
 the American army, Clinton committed the task of carrying 
 
 - 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF ARNOLD'S DISGUISED HANDWRITING. 
 
 on the correspondence to Major Andre, who wrote over the 
 signature of " John Anderson," in a slightly disguised hand^' 
 Not doubting that " Gustavus " was General Arnold, Andre 
 probably wrote the letter to Mrs. Arnold in August for the 
 
 ^t*7^s>z^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF ANDRE'S DISGUISED HANDWRITING. 
 
 purpose of making clear to her husband the name and char- 
 acter of " John Anderson " by means of his handwriting : 
 Major Andr6 was with Sir Henry Clinton at the siege
 
 66 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 and capture of Charleston in the spring of 1780, and there 
 is clear evidence that he played the part of a spy in that 
 tragedy. It is asserted that Edward Shrewsberry, a respect- 
 able citizen of Charleston, but a suspected Tory, was ill at 
 his house on East Bay during the siege. His Whig brother, 
 who belonged to the American army, frequently visited 
 him. He saw at his Tory brother's house, on several occa- 
 sions, a young man clad in homespun, who was introduced 
 to him as a Virginian, also belonging to the patriot army. 
 After the capitulation, and the British were in possession of 
 the city, the Continental soldier saw at the house of his sick 
 brother the same young man, but in different apparel, who 
 was introduced to him as Major Andre\ of the British army. 
 His brother afterward confessed that the major and the 
 homespun-clad young " Virginian " were one and the same 
 man. To another visitor this young man in homespun was 
 introduced by Shrewsberry as " a back-country man who 
 had brought down cattle for the garrison." He was after- 
 ward informed that the cattle-driver was Major Andr6. 
 
 If these assertions be true and there is no reason for 
 doubting their truth Major Andre did not hesitate, when 
 an occasion offered, to play the part of a spy for the benefit 
 of his king and country. Six months afterward, when cir- 
 cumstances had placed him in that position, and he was a 
 prisoner, he expressed, in a tetter to Washington, a desire to 
 rescue himself from " an imputation of having assumed a 
 mean character for treacherous purposes or self-interest." 
 
 In the early autumn of 1780 Major Andre was made adju- 
 tant-general of the British forces in America. He was then 
 busy in consummating the intrigue and conspiracy with Ar- 
 nold. The time had arrived when it had become necessary 
 to bring matters to a head to settle upon a definite plan and
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 67 
 
 time for action, terms, etc. Arnold had, at his own earnest 
 solicitation, been appointed to the command at West Point 
 and its dependencies in August, and had resolved to sur- 
 render that strong post into the hands of the enemies of his 
 country. It was an object of covetous desire on the part of 
 the British, for the possession of it would open a free com- 
 munication between New York and Canada, which they had 
 been endeavoring to secure ever since the invasion of Bur- 
 goyne in 1777. The subject of the surrender of West Point 
 was the burden of the correspondence between Arnold and 
 Andre early in September. 
 
 At midsummer, 1780, an occasion drew from Major An- 
 dre's pen his most notable satirical poem, in imitation, in 
 structure and metre, of the famous old British ballad, 
 " Chevy Chase." It appears to have been written for the 
 twofold purpose of gratifying his own quick perception of 
 the ludicrous and to retaliate in kind the satirical attacks 
 of Whig writers upon him and his friends. The occasion 
 was an expedition in July against a block -house on the 
 west bank of the Hudson, three or four miles below Fort 
 Lee, at the base of the Palisades, which was occupied by a 
 British picket of seventy men loyal refugees for the pro- 
 tection of some wood-cutters and the neighboring Tories. 
 
 On Bergen Neck, not far from the block-house, were a 
 large number of cattle and horses within reach of the Brit- 
 ish foragers who might go out from the fort at Paulus' Hook 
 (now Jersey City). Washington sent General Wayne with 
 horse and foot less than two thousand men to storm the 
 block-house and to drive the cattle within the American 
 lines. Wayne sent the cavalry under Major Henry Lee 
 (" Legion Harry," father of the late General Robert E. Lee, 
 of the Confederate army), to perform the latter duty, while
 
 68 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 he, with three regiments, marched against the block-house 
 with four pieces of light artillery. A brief but sharp skirmish 
 ensued. The assailants were compelled to retire, and Wavne 
 returned to camp with a large number of cattle driven by 
 the dragoons. The failure to capture the block-house was 
 attributed to the ineffectualness of the small cannons. 
 
 The " Cow-Chase " was published in Rivington's " Ga- 
 zette," the last canto on the day of the author's arrest as a 
 spy at Tarrytown. He made copies of the poem for his 
 friends. Of one of these, belonging to the late Rev. Dr. 
 Sprague, of Albany, I was permitted, in 1 849, to -make the 
 following copy of the poem given in the next Chapter ; also 
 the fac-simile given of the last stanza of the poem in the 
 handwriting of Major Andr6. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 COW-CHASE. 
 
 BY MAJOR JOHN ANDR& 
 
 ELIZABETHTOWN, August i, 1780. 
 CANTO I. 
 
 To drive the kine. one summer's morn, 
 
 The tanner * took his way : 
 The calf shall rue that is unborn 
 
 The jumbling of that day. 
 
 And Wayne descending steers shall know, 
 
 And tauntingly deride, 
 And call to mind, in ev'ry low, 
 
 The tanning of his hide. 
 
 * Andre seems to have been impressed with the idea that the occupation of 
 General Wayne, the leader of the expedition, was that of a tanner in his early life. 
 
 A few foot-notes were made to the poem when it was published in England. 
 These are here placed in italics. The remainder are by the author of this volume.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 Let Bergen cows still ruminate 
 
 Unconscious in the stall, 
 What mighty means were used to get, 
 
 And lose them after all. 
 
 For many heroes bold and brave 
 
 From New Bridge and Tapaan, 
 And those that drink Passaic's wave, 
 
 And those that eat soupaan ; * 
 
 And sons of distant Delaware, 
 
 And still remoter Shannon, 
 And Major Lee with horses rare, 
 
 And Proctor with his cannon 
 
 All wondrous proud in arms they came ! 
 
 What hero could refuse 
 To tread the rugged path to fame, 
 
 Who had a pair of shoes ? t 
 
 At six the host, with sweating buff, 
 
 Arrived at Freedom's Pole, \ 
 When Wayne, who thought he'd time enough, 
 
 Thus speechified the whole : 
 
 " O ye whom glory doth unite, 
 
 Who Freedom's cause espouse, 
 Whether the wing that's doomed to fight, 
 Or that to drive the cows ; 
 
 " Ere yet you tempt your further way, 
 
 Or into action come, 
 Hear, soldiers, what I have to say, 
 And take a pint of rum.* 
 
 " Intemperate valor then will string 
 Each nervous arm the better, 
 
 * A hasty-pudding made of the meal of Indian corn. 
 
 t This is in allusion to the fact that many of the American soldiers, at that 
 time, were without shoes or stockings. - 
 
 t Freedom's, i. e., liberty-pole a long stick stuck in the ground. 
 
 * Rum was the usual kind of spirituous liquor that formed a portion of the 
 rations of the soldiers.
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 So all the land shall IO ! sing, 
 And read the gen'ral's letter. * 
 
 ' Know that some paltry refugees, 
 
 Whom I've a mind to fight, 
 Are playing h 1 among the trees 
 That grow on yonder height ! 
 
 ' Their fort and block-house we'll level, 
 
 And deal a horrid slaughter ; 
 We'll drive the scoundrels to the devil, 
 And ravish wife and daughter. 
 
 ' I under cover of th' attack, 
 
 Whilst you are all at blows, 
 From English Neighb'rhood and Tinack 
 Will drive away the cows. 
 
 For well you know the latter is 
 
 The serious operation, 
 And fighting with the refugees t 
 
 Is only demonstration." 
 
 His daring words from all the crowd 
 Such great applause did gain, 
 
 That every man declared aloud 
 For serious work with Wayne. 
 
 Then from the cask of rum once more 
 
 They took a heavy gill, 
 When one and all they loudly swore 
 
 They'd fight upon the hill. 
 
 But here the Muse has not a strain 
 
 Befitting such great deeds : 
 " Hurra," they cried, " hurra for Wayne ! ' 
 
 And, shouting did their needs. 
 
 * In his letter to Congress (July 26, 1780) concerning this expedition, Washing- 
 ton spoke of the American cannons being " too light to penetrate the logs of which 
 it [the block-house] was constructed." He also attributed the great loss of the 
 Americans in that attack to the " intemperate valor " of the men. Andre exercised 
 a poetical license in putting these words into the mouth of Wayne before the 
 occurrence. 
 
 \ Loyalists expelled from the American lines.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 7! 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 Near his meridian pomp the sun 
 
 Had journeyed from th' horizon, 
 When fierce the dusky tribe moved on, 
 
 Of heroes drunk as poison. 
 
 The sounds confused, of boasting oaths, 
 
 Re-echoed through the wood : 
 Some vowed to sleep in dead men's clothes, 
 
 And some to swim in blood. 
 
 At Irvine's nod, 'twas fine to see 
 
 The left prepared to fight, 
 The while the drovers, Wayne and Lee 
 
 Drew off upon the right. 
 
 Which Irvine 'twas Fame don't relate, 
 
 Nor can the Muse assist her 
 Whether 'twas he that cocks a hat, 
 
 Or he that gives a glister. 
 
 For greatly one was signalized, 
 
 That fought at Chestnut Hill, 
 And Canada immortalized 
 
 The vender of the pill.* 
 
 Yet the attendance upon Proctor 
 
 They both might have to boast of ; 
 For there was business for the doctor, 
 
 And hats to be disposed of. 
 
 Let none uncandidly infer 
 
 That Stirling wanted spunk, 
 The self-made Peert had sure been there, 
 
 But that the Peer was drunk. 
 
 * One of the Irvines was a hatter, the other was a physician. It was probably 
 the latter Dr. William Irvine who was in this expedition, for he was then in com- 
 mand of the Second Pennsylvania Regiment. He had been a captain in Canada 
 about two years. Brigadier-General Irvine was made a prisoner at Chestnut Hill, 
 near Philadelphia, in December, 1777. 
 
 f William Alexander, Lord Stirling, was a general in the Continental army. 
 He had been frustrated in obtaining a Scottish estate and peerage to which he was 
 clearly entitled. He assumed the title as a right.
 
 72 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 But turn we to the Hudson's banks, 
 
 Where stood the modest train, 
 With purpose firm, though slender ranks, 
 
 Nor cared a pin for Wayne. 
 
 For then the unrelenting hand 
 
 Of rebel fury drove, 
 And tore from ev'ry genial hand 
 
 Of friendship and of love. 
 
 And some within a dungeon's gloom, 
 
 By mock tribunals laid, 
 Had waited long a cruel doom, 
 
 Impending o'er their head. 
 
 Here one bewails a brother's fate, 
 
 There one a sire demands, 
 Cut off, alas ! before their date, 
 
 By ignominious hands. 
 
 And silvered grandsires here appeared 
 
 In deep distress serene, 
 Of reverend manners that declared 
 
 The better days they'd seen. 
 
 Oh ! cursed rebellion, these are thine, 
 
 Thine are these tales of woe ; 
 Shall at thy dire, insatiate shrine 
 
 Blood never cease to flow ? 
 
 And now the foe began to lead 
 
 His forces to the attack ; 
 Balls whistling unto balls succeed, 
 
 And make the block-house crack. 
 
 No shot could pass, if you will take 
 
 The gen'ral's word for true ; * 
 But 'tis a d le mistake, 
 
 For ev'ry shot went through. 
 
 * General Wayne reported that, owing to the lightness of his field-pieces, the 
 shot did not penetrate the logs of the block-house.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 The firmer as the rebels pressed, 
 
 The loyal heroes stand ; 
 Virtue had nerved each honest breast, 
 
 And industry each hand. 
 
 In valor's frenzy, Hamilton * 
 
 Rode like a soldier big, 
 And Secretary Harrison t 
 
 With pen stuck in his wig. 
 
 But, lest chieftain Washington 
 Should mourn them in the mumps,! 
 
 The fate of Withington to shun, 
 They fought behind the stumps. * 
 
 But ah ! Thaddeus Posset, why 
 
 Should thy poor soul elope ? 
 And why should Titus Hooper die 
 
 Ah ! die without a rope ? 
 
 Apostate Murphy, thou to whom 
 
 Fair Shela ne'er was cruel ; 
 In death shalt hear her mourn thy doom, 
 
 " Och ! would ye die, my jewel ? " 
 
 Thee, Nathan Pumpkin, I lament, 
 
 Of melancholy fate ; 
 The gray goose, stolen as he went, 
 
 In his heart's blood was wet. 
 
 * Vide Lee's trial. General Charles Lee, in his testimony at his trial by court- 
 martial, after the battle of Monmouth, spoke of " Colonel Hamilton flourishing his 
 sword " after delivering a message from Washington on the battle-field, and say- 
 ing, " ' I will stay, and we will all die here on this spot.' I could not but be sur- 
 prised," said Lee, " at his expression, but observed him much fluttered, and in a 
 sort of frenzy of valor." 
 
 f Richard Harrison, Washington's secretary. 
 \ A disorder prevalent in the rebel lines. 
 
 * The merit of these lines, -which is doubtless very great, can only be felt by true 
 connoisseurs conversant in ancient song. In " Chevy Chase " occurs the stanza : 
 
 " For Witherington needs must I wayle, 
 
 As one in doleful dumps ; 
 For when his legges were smitten off, 
 He fought upon his stumps."
 
 74 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Now, as the fight was further fought, 
 
 And balls began to thicken, 
 The fray assumed, the gen'rals thought, 
 
 The color of a licking. 
 
 Yet undismayed, the chiefs command, 
 
 And, to redeem the day, 
 Cry, " Soldiers, charge ! " They hear, they stand- 
 
 They turn and run away ! 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Not all delights the bloody spear, 
 
 Or horrid din of battle ; 
 There are, I'm sure, who'd like to hear 
 
 A word about the rattle. 
 
 The chief whom we beheld of late 
 
 Near Schralenberg haranguing, 
 At Yan Van Poop's * unconscious sat 
 
 Of Irvine's hearty banging ; 
 
 While valiant Lee, with courage wild, 
 
 Most bravely did oppose 
 The tears of women and of child, 
 
 Who begged he'd leave the cows. 
 
 But Wayne, of sympathizing heart, 
 
 Required a relief 
 Not all the blessings could impart 
 
 Of battle or of beef. 
 
 For now a prey to female charms, 
 
 His soul took more delight in 
 A lovely Hamadryad 'st arms, 
 
 Than cow-driving or fighting. 
 
 A nymph, the refugees had drove 
 
 Far from her native tree, 
 Just happened to be on the move, 
 
 When up came Wayne and Lee. 
 
 * Who kept a dram-shot>. \ A deity of tJie woods.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 75 
 
 She in mad Anthony's fierce eye 
 
 The hero saw portrayed, 
 And, all in tears, she took him by 
 
 The bridle of his jade.* 
 
 " Hear," said the nymph, " O great commander, 
 
 No human lamentations ; 
 The trees you see them cutting yonder 
 
 Are all my near relations. 
 
 " And I, forlorn, implore thine aid 
 
 To free the sacred grove ; 
 So shall thy prowess be repaid 
 
 With an immortal's love." 
 
 Now some, to prove she was a goddess, 
 
 Said this enchanting fair 
 Had late retired from the Bodies\ 
 
 In all the pomp of war ; 
 
 That drums and merry fifes had played 
 
 To honor her retreat, 
 And Cunningham J himself conveyed 
 
 The lady through the street. 
 
 Great Wayne, by soft compassion swayed, 
 
 To no inquiry stoops, 
 But takes the fair, afflicted maid 
 
 Right into Yan Van Poop's. 
 
 So Roman Anthony, they say, 
 
 Disgraced the imperial banner, 
 And for a gypsy lost a day, 
 
 Like Anthony the tanner. 
 
 The Hamadryad had but half 
 
 Received redress from Wayne, 
 When drums and colors, cow and calf, 
 
 Came down the road amain. 
 
 * A New England name for a horse, mare, or gelding. 
 
 f A cant appellation given among the soldiers to the corps that has the honor to 
 guard his Majesty's person a body-guard, 
 
 \ William Cunningham, the veteran provost-marshal at New York.
 
 76 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 All in a cloud of dust were seen 
 The sheep, the horse, the goat, 
 
 The gentle heifer, ass obscene, 
 The yearling, and the shoat. 
 
 And pack-horses with fowls came by, 
 
 Befeathered on each side, 
 Like Pegasus, the horse that I , 
 
 And other poets ride. 
 
 Sublime upon the stirrups rose 
 
 The mighty Lee behind, 
 And drove the terror-smitten cows 
 
 Like chaff before the wind ! 
 
 But sudden see the woods above 
 
 Pour down another corps, 
 All helter-skelter in a drove, 
 
 Like that I sung before. 
 
 Irvine and terror in the van 
 
 Came flying all abroad, 
 And cannon, colors, horse, and man, 
 
 Ran tumbling to the road. 
 
 Still as he fled, 'twas Irvine's cry, 
 
 And his example too : 
 " Run on, my merry men, all for why ? " 
 
 The shot will not go through. 
 
 Five refugees, 'tis true, were found 
 Stiff on the block-house floor ; 
 
 But then, 'tis thought, the shot went round, 
 And in at the back door ! 
 
 As when two kennels in the street, 
 Swelled with a recent rain, 
 
 In gushing streams together meet, 
 And seek the neighboring drain 
 
 So meet these dung-born tribes in one, 
 
 As swift in their career, 
 And so to New Bridge they ran on, 
 
 But all the cows got clear.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 Poor Parson Caldwell, all in wonder, 
 
 Saw the returning train, 
 And mourned to Wayne the lack of plunder, 
 
 For them to steal again.* 
 
 For 'twas his right to seize the spoil, and 
 To share with each commander, 
 
 As he had done at Staten Island 
 With frost-bit Alexander.f 
 
 In his dismay, the frantic priest 
 
 Began to grow prophetic, 
 You had swore, to see his lab'ring breast, 
 
 He'd taken an emetic ! 
 
 " I view a future day," said he, 
 " Brighter than this day dark is, 
 
 And you shall see what you shall see, 
 Ha ! ha ! one pretty marquis ; J 
 
 " And he shall come to Paulus Hook,* 
 And great achievements think on, 
 
 And make a bow and take a look, 
 Like Satan over Lincoln. 
 
 " And all the land around shall glory 
 
 To see the Frenchmen caper, 
 And pretty Susan || tell the story 
 
 In the next Chatham paper." 
 
 * Rev. James Caldwell, an earnest Whig of New Jersey, and pastor of a church 
 at Connecticut Farms. His wife had been shot by a newly enlisted soldier in her 
 own house, when the British, under Knyphausen, made a raid upon Springfield 
 in 1778. 
 
 f Calling himself, becattse he was ordered not to do it, Earl of Stirling, though 
 no sterling earl. (See foot-note, page 71.) In a winter expedition to Staten Island 
 a larger proportion of his soldiers were frost-bitten. 
 
 f Lafayette. 
 
 * Now Jersey City, where the British had a redoubt. This Major Henry Lee 
 surprised, in August, 1779, an d carried away one hundred and fifty-nine of the gar- 
 rison prisoners. 
 
 I Mrs. Susannah Livingston, a daughter of Governor William Livingston, of 
 New Jersey, who was suspected of political authorship.
 
 78 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 This solemn prophecy, of course, 
 Gave all much consolation ; 
 
 Except to Wayne, who lost his horse 
 Upon the great occasion 
 
 His horse that carried all his prog, 
 
 His military speeches, 
 His corn-stalk whisky for his grog 
 
 Blue stockings and brown breeches. 
 
 And now I've closed my epic strain, 
 I tremble as I show it, 
 
 Lest this same warrio-drover, Wayne, 
 Should ever catch the poet.* 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF THE LAST STANZA OF THE COW-CHASE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 \\ 
 
 WE have seen that Arnold, at his own earnest solici- 
 tation, had been appointed to the command of West Point 
 in August, 1780. It was then known to Sir Henry Clinton 
 
 * It so happened that when Andre was taken to Tappaan he was delivered to the 
 custody of Wayne. The latter was not a member of the board of inquiry. Frank 
 Moore says that, under Andrews signature to a MS. copy of the " Cow-Chase," some 
 one wrote : 
 
 " When the epic strain was sung, 
 The poet by the neck was hung, 
 And to his cost he finds, too late, 
 The ' dung-born tribe ' decides his fate."
 
 JOHN ANDR&. 79 
 
 that " Gustavus " was no other than General Arnold. Every- 
 thing was ripe for the consummation of the plot ; both par- 
 ties were anxious for the end. 
 
 It was a gloomy hour in the history of the great struggle, 
 aside from the contemplated act of foul treason. Charleston 
 had fallen in May, and an American army there had been 
 made prisoners. Gates had been defeated near Camden in 
 August, and another American army dispersed. The South 
 was in possession of the enemy ; New Jersey was in nearly 
 the same condition, and on Manhattan Island lay a strong 
 army of veteran British soldiers. This was the moment 
 sagaciously chosen by Arnold to strike a fatal blow at the 
 liberties of his country. 
 
 At the close of August Arnold wrote to Andre, in the 
 usual disguise of commercial phrases, demanding a personal 
 interview at an American outpost in Westchester County, 
 the latter to come in the disguise of " John Anderson," a 
 bearer of intelligence from New York. But Andr6 was not 
 disposed to enter the American lines in disguise. A meeting 
 of Andre" and Beverly Robinson with General Arnold, at 
 Dobb's Ferry, on the neutral ground, on September nth, 
 was arranged ; but the interview was prevented by provi- 
 dential interposition an interposition in favor of the Ameri- 
 can cause so conspicuously manifested in every stage of this 
 conspiracy. 
 
 Washington had made arrangements for a conference, at 
 Hartford, on the 2oth of September, with the Count de Ro- 
 chambeau, the commander of the French forces, then at 
 Newport, Rhode Island, who had come to assist the Ameri- 
 cans in their struggle. It was arranged between Arnold and 
 Andre that the surrender of West Point should take place 
 duri ig Washington's absence. A personal interview for the
 
 80 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 purpose of settling everything concerning the great transac- 
 tion was absolutely necessary, and a meeting of the complot- 
 ters was appointed to take place on the night of the 2ist of 
 September, on the west side of the Hudson, in a lonely spot 
 not far from the hamlet of Haverstraw. 
 
 Beverly Robinson and a few others were sharers in the 
 great secret ; and there were vague rumors in the air that 
 Major Andre was engaged in an enterprise which, if success- 
 ful, would end the war, and redound to his honor and secure 
 him great renown a baronetcy and a brigadiership, per- 
 haps. It is said that Sir Henry Clinton promised these re- 
 wards to his adjutant-general. In confirmation of the truth 
 of this assertion, an incident that occurred on the day when 
 Andre left New York to meet Arnold may here be cited. 
 
 On the 2Oth of September (1780) Colonel Williams, whose 
 headquarters were in the Kip mansion, at Kip's Bay, foot of 
 (present) Thirty-fourth Street, East River, gave a dinner- 
 party to General Sir Henry Clinton and his staff. It was a 
 beautiful, sunny day, and there were exuberant Tories around 
 the banquet-table on that occasion. The spirits of Sir Henry 
 were specially buoyant, for he was anticipating a great vic- 
 tory in the near- hture. His accomplished adjutant-general, 
 Major Andre\ was with him. 
 
 When the bu.id had ceased playing the favorite dinner 
 air, " The Roast Beef of Old England," many toasts were 
 drunk. At length Colonel Williams arose and said : " Sir 
 Henry, our adjutant-general appears very dull this after- 
 noon. We all know what a brave soldier, what a genial 
 companion, what a charming song-bird he is ; and yet music 
 is, perhaps, the least among his accomplishments. I call 
 upon the adjutant-general for a song." Colonel Wil'iams 
 then said, " Gentlemen, I offer the toast, ' Major John Andr6,
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 8 1 
 
 our worthy adjutant-general, the brave soldier and accom- 
 plished gentleman.' ' 
 
 The toast was greeted with great applause. Then Andre 
 arose and said : " Yes, Colonel Williams, I do feel rather se- 
 rious this afternoon, and I can give no particular reason for 
 it. I will sing, however, as you request me to." Then he 
 sang, with great sweetness and much pathos, the old familiar 
 camp-song, beginning 
 
 " Why, soldiers, why, 
 Should we be melancholy, boys ? 
 Why, soldiers, why, 
 Whose business 'tis to die ! 
 For should next campaign 
 Send us to Him who made us, boys, 
 We're free from pain ; 
 But should we remain, 
 A bottle and kind landlady 
 Makes all well again." 
 
 With a trembling and husky voice the usually gay young 
 soldier thanked the company for the honor they. had done 
 him, when Sir Henry said : " A word in addition, gentlemen, 
 if you please. The major leaves the city on duty to-night, 
 .which will most likely terminate in makir ^ plain John An- 
 dre Sir John Andre for success must crown his efforts." 
 
 Major Andre left the hilarious compaoy with a counte- 
 nance saddened by an indefinable presentiment of impend- 
 ing disaster, and departed on that fatal mission involved in 
 his complot with General Arnold. 
 
 Andre went up the Hudson that evening in the sloop- 
 of-war Vulture, twenty-four, to have the arranged personal 
 interview with Arnold. He was accompanied by Beverly 
 Robinson. The vessel was anchored between Teller's (now 
 Croton) Point and Verplanck's Point, and lay there all the
 
 82 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 next day. Arnold had agreed to send a boat to the Vulture 
 to convey Andr6 to the shore at the appointed time. For 
 that service he had employed Joshua H. Smith, an intimate 
 acquaintance and a gentleman farmer, at whose house Mrs. 
 Arnold had been entertained a few days before, while on her 
 way to join her husband at his headquarters. Smith's house 
 is yet standing, upon an eminence known as Treason Hill, 
 between Stony Point and Haverstraw. It overlooks a pict- 
 uresque region, with Haverstraw Bay in the foreground. 
 
 THE SMITH HOUSE. 
 
 The place appointed for the meeting of the conspirators 
 was at a lonely spot in a thicket at the foot of Torn Mount- 
 ain, near the west shore of the Hudson, about two miles 
 below Haverstraw. It was outside the American lines. 
 Smith appeared in a small boat, with two stout oarsmen, 
 at the side of the Vulture at midnight. Andre was ready to 
 accompany him. He covered his scarlet uniform with a
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 83 
 
 long blue surtout. Clinton had instructed him to have 
 nothing to do with papers of any kind, and he went ashore 
 empty-handed. 
 
 It was a little past midnight when Andre was landed on 
 the beach at the mouth of a little creek. He was conducted 
 by Smith to Arnold's place of concealment, and there in 
 the dimmed starlight these notable conspirators, who had 
 long communed through mysterious epistles, met face to 
 face for the first time. At Arnold's request, Smith went 
 back to his boat to await the return of Andr6, who was to 
 be conveyed again to the Vulture before daybreak. 
 
 The interview was long protracted. It was not ended 
 when the eastern horizon began to kindle with the dawn. 
 Both men were anxious to complete the business at that time. 
 Arnold had two horses with him, one of them ridden by his 
 servant. He now proposed that Andre should mount his 
 servant's horse and ride with him to Smith's house and" 
 there complete the arrangement. The major reluctantly 
 consented to do so, with the understanding that he was to 
 be conveyed to the Vulture as soon as possible. 
 
 As the two horsemen approached the little hamlet of 
 Haverstraw they were challenged by a sentinel. Andre 
 was alarmed. He was, unwittingly, within the American 
 lines ; but he had gone too far, however, to recede, and they 
 rode on together to Smith's house. By ten o'clock they had 
 finished their business, when Arnold, after handing Andre 
 some papers containing all needed information concerning 
 the post to be surrendered, departed in his barge for West 
 Point. 
 
 It had been arranged that Sir Henry Clinton should 
 ascend the Hudson with a strong force on the 25th, and 
 attack the important post; and Arnold, after making a show
 
 84 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 of resistance, should surrender it, with all the men and muni- 
 tions of war, on the plea of the weakness of the garrison. A 
 part of the plan was the seizure of Washington, who was to 
 return on the 27th. For this service the traitor was to re- 
 ceive from the king the commission of brigadier-general in 
 the royal army, and fifty thousand dollars in gold. The sur- 
 render was not effected, but Arnold received the commis- 
 sion, and nearly forty thousand dollars in gold. 
 
 When the conspirators arrived at Smith's house at sun- 
 rise, Andre 1 was alarmed at the disappearance of the Vulture. 
 She had been cannonaded from Verplanck's Point, and com- 
 pelled to drop down the river. 
 
 Just after the departure of Arnold, the Vulture reap- 
 peared at her anchorage of the night before. Andre urged 
 Smith to take him to the sloop immediately, but he declined, 
 giving various reasons for his conduct. He was really afraid 
 to perform the service, and the British adjutant-general was 
 kept in a state of great anxiety on Treason Hill until even- 
 ing. Arnold had intimated that the major might be com- 
 pelled to cross the river and return to New York by land. 
 To provide for any contingency, he furnished passports, one 
 to secure to Andr6 a safeguard through the American posts 
 to the neutral ground, and another to secure such safety in 
 passing down the river in a boat to Dobb's Ferry. 
 
 Smith decided that Andre must return by land. He 
 tried to procure an American uniform for the major's dis- 
 guise, but could not, and his guest was compelled to accept 
 an old purple or crimson coat, trimmed with threadbare 
 gold lace, and a tarnished beaver hat belonging to Smith. 
 The rest of his suit was his military undress, nankeen small- 
 clothes, and white-topped boots. His long surtout with 
 a cape covered all.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 85 
 
 In violation of Clinton's positive orders, Andre took 
 away the papers which Arnold had given him. These he 
 concealed in his stockings beneath his feet. So equipped, 
 and bearing Arnold's passports, Andre mounted a black 
 horse which the American general had provided for his use, 
 and at twilight, accompanied by Smith and his negro ser- 
 vant, he crossed the river at the King's Ferry, went safely 
 through the American works at Verplanck's Point, and re- 
 luctantly spent the night at a farm-house below the Croton 
 River, within the American lines. The travelers slept to- 
 gether. It was a weary and restless night for Andr6. They 
 arose early and rode on some distance together. After 
 breakfast they parted company at Pine's bridge, Andre 
 pushing on within the neutral ground. He was induced to 
 leave the road leading to the White Plains, which he had 
 been directed to take, and, turning westward at Chappaqua, 
 he followed another road nearer the river, which led him to 
 Tarrytown. This was a fatal mistake. 
 
 The neutral ground, extending from King's Bridge nearly 
 to the Croton River, was swarming with Tories. It was the 
 region of great manors, whose owners were loyalists, and 
 their retainers were their political followers. It was a most 
 uncomfortable dwelling-place for the comparatively few 
 Whig inhabitants. It was infested with gangs of marauders, 
 who were called " cow-boys." They were constantly steal- 
 ing the cattle of the Whigs and driving them off to the 
 British army in New York. The patriotic inhabitants, espe- 
 cially the young men, armed themselves in defense of their 
 property. 
 
 On the morning of Friday, the 23d of September (1780), 
 seven young men, farmers and neighbors John Paulding, 
 Isaac Van Wart, David Williams, John Yerks and three
 
 86 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 others were out on a scout together. They seem to have 
 been a sort of guerrillas, acting independently in intercept- 
 ing marauders and arresting suspicious-looking travelers. 
 Paulding had been a prisoner in New York a short time 
 before, and had escaped in the disguise of a Hessian coat 
 which a f^end had procured for him. This coat he now 
 wore. 
 
 Three of the four young men above named were playing 
 cards in a thicket near the highway, half a mile from Tarry- 
 town, at about nine o'clock in the morning, when a well- 
 dressed horseman approached on a black steed. He was a 
 stranger, and the young men concluded 1 " to stop him and in- 
 quire about his errand. Paulding, who was the leader of 
 the little band, stepped out of the bushes with his musket, 
 and ordered the traveler to halt and give an account of him- 
 self. Seeing Paulding with a British military coat on, and 
 knowing that he was far below the American lines and 
 nearer those of the British, the horseman said to the three 
 young scouts : 
 
 " My lads, I hope you belong to our party." 
 
 " What party ? " asked Paulding. 
 
 " The lower party the British." 
 
 " We do," said Paulding. 
 
 Completely thrown off his guard, the traveler exclaimed 
 with much animation : " Thank God, I am once more 
 among friends ! I am a British officer, out in the country 
 on particular business, and hope you will not detain me a 
 minute." 
 
 " We are Americans," said Paulding, seizing the bridle 
 of the horse, " and you are our prisoner." 
 
 The traveler was shocked, but, assuming composure, he 
 said, " I must do anything to get along," and with apparent
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 87 
 
 unconcern he pulled from his pocket Arnold's passport, 
 which read : 
 
 " HEADQUARTERS, ROBINSON'S HOUSE, September 22, 1780. 
 " Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass the guards to the 
 White Plains, or below if he chooses, he being on public 
 business by my direction. 
 
 " B. ARNOLD, Major-General." 
 
 ARNOLD'S PASSPORT. 
 
 The suspicions of the young men were now thoroughly 
 aroused. Making the traveler dismount, they searched 
 every part of hrs clothing, but found nothing of importance. 
 
 " Try his boots," said Van Wart. 
 
 They compelled him to sit upon a log by the road-side, 
 and, pulling off his boots, they discovered, by the bagging
 
 88 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 of his stocking-feet, several papers. These Paulding, the 
 only one of the young men who could read, glanced over 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 " My God ! he is a spy ! " 
 
 Major John Andre, adjutant-general of the British 
 army, was their prisoner, but they did not know it. They 
 believed that he was a British officer, as he himself at first 
 announced. They questioned him closely about the papers 
 in his boots, but he became very reticent. He offered them 
 large bribes to induce them to let him pass. He offered 
 them his gold watch. They refused. " I will give you a 
 hundred guineas and any amount of dry goods," he said. 
 They refused. " I will give you a thousand guineas," he 
 said, " and you can hold me as a hostage till one of your 
 number return with the money." 
 
 " We would not let you go for ten thousand guineas ! " 
 said Paulding, in a loud voice. That decision settled the fate 
 of Andr6. 
 
 The prisoner then requested his captors to take him to 
 the nearest American post, and ask him no more questions. 
 They complied. He was seated on his horse, which one of 
 them alternately led, while the others marched alongside as 
 guards. 
 
 Such was the story of Andre's capture, as related by the 
 three young men. Major Andre declared that the sole 
 object of the captors in arresting him was evidently plun- 
 der; that they searched every part of him, even his saddle 
 and his boots, for gold ; and that, if he had possessed suffi- 
 cient in specie (he had only some Continental bills), he might 
 have easily persuaded them to let him go. But the prepon- 
 derance of contemporary testimony is in favor of the cap- 
 tors' story. Washington wrote to Congress :
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 89 
 
 " Their conduct merits our warmest esteem, and I beg 
 leave to add that I think the public would do well to grant 
 them a handsome gratuity. They have prevented, in all 
 probability, our suffering one of the severest strokes that 
 could have been meditated against us." 
 
 Congress complimented the captors on their fidelity and 
 patriotism by a resolution of thanks, ordered that an annuity 
 of two hundred dollars in specie should be paid to each out 
 of the public treasury, and directed the Board of War to 
 
 ofi 
 
 (From a Miniature in possession of the late James K. Paulding.) 
 
 have a silver medal of appropriate design struck and given 
 to each. These medals Washington presented to the cap- 
 tors in person. Tradition tells us that Andre would un-
 
 90 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 doubtedly have been released but for the strong will and 
 patriotic impulses of John Paulding, then only twenty -two 
 years of age. 
 
 Andre was delivered to Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson, 
 then in command of Sheldon's dragoons and a few Connecti- 
 cut militia at North Salem. That honest officer believed 
 the captive to be what Arnold's passport proclaimed him, 
 simply " John Anderson," on public business by direction of 
 his general, and treated him very kindly as such. The pris- 
 oner requested Jameson to inform Arnold that John An- 
 derson was a captive, in his custody. The honest, unsus- 
 picious Jameson complied. He wrote to Arnold to this 
 effect, explaining how Anderson came to be a prisoner, and 
 concluded that the simplest way in the matter would be to 
 send the captive to Arnold with the letter! He detailed 
 Lieutenant Allen and four of the militia to take both to 
 headquarters, and at the same time sent the papers found in 
 Andre's boot by express to Washington, who was then on 
 his way from Hartford. 
 
 Andre" was delighted by the turn affairs had taken, for 
 now there appeared a way of escape for both Arnold and 
 himself. The escort with the prisoner were some distance 
 on their way, when Major Benjamin Tallmadge, a vigilant 
 and active officer of the dragoons, returned to Jameson's 
 quarters after a brief absence. Learning all about the 
 capture and the nature of the papers found on the prisoner, 
 he at once pronounced him a spy and Arnold a traitor. 
 He persuaded Jameson to order the return of the prisoner, 
 agreeing to bear all blame himself for the act. The cap- 
 tive was brought back, but, unfortunately, Allen proceeded 
 alone with Jameson's letter to Arnold. 
 
 Andre was committed to the care of Lieutenant King, of
 
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 9 ! 
 
 the dragoons, who was convinced, by the prisoner's manner 
 and other tokens, that he was no ordinary man. Finally, the 
 captive requested King to walk with him in a large yard 
 attached to the house in which they were, when the pris- 
 oner said, " I must make a confidant of somebody, and I 
 know not a more proper person than yourself, you have 
 treated me so kindly." He then made a full confession of 
 his rank, and gave a brief narrative of his career in America 
 since his capture at St. Johns. Procuring writing materials, 
 he wrote the following letter to Washington : 
 
 " SALEM, the 24th September, 1780. 
 
 " SIR : What I have as yet said concerning myself was in 
 the justifiable attempt to be extricated. I am too little accus- 
 tomed to duplicity to have succeeded. 
 
 " I beg your Excellency will be persuaded that no alter- 
 ation in the temper of my mind, or apprehension for my safe- 
 ty, induces me to take the step of addressing you, but that it 
 is to rescue myself from an imputation of having assumed a 
 mean character for treacherous purposes or self-interest, a 
 conduct incompatible with the principles which actuate me, 
 as well as my condition in life. It is to vindicate my fame 
 that I speak, and not to solicit security. The person in your 
 possession is Major John Andre, adjutant-general in the Brit- 
 ish army. 
 
 " The influence of one commander with another in the 
 army of his adversary is an advantage taken in war. A cor- 
 respondence for this purpose I held, as confidential, in the 
 present instance, with his Excellency Sir Henry Clinton. 
 
 " To favor it, I agreed to meet upon ground not within 
 the posts of either army a person who was to give me intel- 
 ligence. I came up in the Vulture man-of-war for this effect,
 
 92 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 and was fetched by a boat from the shore to the beach ; be- 
 ing there, I was told that the approach of day would prevent 
 my return, and that I must be concealed until the next night. 
 I was in my regimentals, and had fairly risked my person. 
 
 " Against my stipulation and without my knowledge be- 
 forehand, I was conducted within one of your posts. Your 
 Excellency will conceive my sensation on this occasion, and 
 will imagine how much more I must have been affected, by 
 a refusal to reconduct me back the next night as I had been 
 brought. Thus become a prisoner, I had to concert my 
 escape. I quitted my uniform, and was passed another way 
 in the night, without the American posts to neutral ground, 
 and informed I was beyond all armed parties, and left to 
 press for New York. I was taken at Tarrytown by some 
 volunteers. Thus, as I have had the honor to relate, was I 
 betrayed (being adjutant-general of the British army) into 
 the vile condition of an enemy in disguise within your posts. 
 
 " Having avowed myself a British officer, I have nothing 
 to reveal but what relates to myself, which is true, on the 
 honor of an officer and a gentleman. The request I have to 
 make to your Excellency, and I am conscious I address myself 
 well, that in any rigor feeling may dictate, a decency of con- 
 duct toward me may mark, that, though unfortunate, I am 
 branded with nothing dishonorable, as no motive could be 
 mine but the service of my King, and as I was an involuntary 
 impostor. 
 
 " Another request is, that I may be permitted to write 
 an open letter to Sir Henry Clinton, and another to a friend 
 for clothes and linen. 
 
 " I take the liberty to mention the condition of some 
 gentlemen at Charlestown, who, being either on parole or 
 under protection, were engaged in a conspiracy against us.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 93 
 
 Though their situation is not exactly similar, they are ob- 
 jects who may be set in exchange for me, or are persons 
 whom the treatment I receive may affect. 
 
 " It is no less, sir, in a confidence in the generosity of 
 your mind, than on account of your superior station, that I 
 have chosen to importune you with this letter. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, with great respect, sir, your 
 Excellency's most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 " JOHN ANDRE, Adjutant-General. 
 
 " His Excellency General WASHINGTON." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WASHINGTON lodged at Fishkill, eighteen miles from 
 West Point, on the night of September 24th, and early the 
 next morning (the day appointed for Clinton to ascend the 
 river and receive the surrender of the post in the Highlands) 
 he and his companions reached the vicinity of Arnold's quar- 
 ters, where they intended to breakfast. He and two or three 
 officers turned aside to inspect a redoubt, while Lafayette, 
 Hamilton, and other young officers, rode forward with a 
 message from their chief to Mrs. Arnold, bidding her not to 
 delay breakfast on his account. 
 
 While these officers were at table with Arnold and his 
 wife, a courier arrived with a letter to the general. It was 
 Jameson's letter, brought by Allen, telling Arnold of the 
 arrest of " John Anderson," and the sending of the papers 
 found in his boots to Washington. Arnold glanced at the 
 letter, sat a few minutes in general conversation, and then 
 asked to be excused. His wife perceived anxiety in his 
 countenance, and, leaving the table, followed him out of
 
 94 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 the room. He commanded Allen not to mention that he 
 had brought a letter from Jameson ; ordered a horse to be 
 saddled and brought to the door immediately, and ascend- 
 ing to his wife's chamber, to which she had retired, he told 
 her in a few hurried words of his perilous situation, and that 
 his life depended upon his instant flight and reaching the 
 British lines in safety. 
 
 This awful message smote the young wife and mother 
 fearfully. She screamed and fell at his feet in a swoon. He 
 had not a moment to lose. Leaving her in the care of her 
 maid, he kissed their sleeping babe and hurried to the break- 
 fast-room. Telling the guests that his wife had been taken 
 ill suddenly, and that he was called in haste over to West 
 Point and would return presently, he mounted the horse at 
 the door, dashed down the bridle-path to the river half a 
 mile distant, snatched his pistols from the holsters as he dis- 
 mounted, and, summoning the crew of his barge, he entered 
 it and ordered them to pull into the middle of the stream 
 and row swiftly down the river, for he bore a flag to the 
 Vulture, and must return soon to meet General Washington. 
 
 Arnold sat in the prow of his barge. When they came 
 in sight of the Vulture he raised a white handkerchief upon 
 a walking-stick. They soon reached the vessel. Arnold as- 
 cended to her deck, where he met Colonel Robinson, and 
 briefly related to him the unhappy state of affairs. He tried, 
 in vain, to lure the crew of his barge into the king's service. 
 " If General Arnold likes the King of England, let him serve 
 him ; we love our country, and mean to live or die in sup- 
 port of her cause," indignantly exclaimed James Larvey, the 
 coxswain. " So will we," said his companions. They were 
 sent on shore at Teller's Point by the same flag. Arnold 
 sent a letter to Washington, covering-one to his wife. He as-
 
 JOHN ANDRE: 
 
 95 
 
 sured the commander-in-chief that his wife was innocent of 
 all knowledge of his act, and entreated him to extend his 
 protection to her and her child. He also exonerated his 
 military family from all participation in his designs. 
 
 By the same flag Colonel Robinson wrote to Washing- 
 ton, asserting that, under the circumstances which led to 
 Andre's arrest, he could not detain him without " the great- 
 est violation of flags and contrary to the usage of all na- 
 tions" ; and, assuming that the American commander would 
 see the matter in the same light, he desired that he would 
 order Major Andre to be " set at liberty, and allowed to 
 return immediately." 
 
 The Vulture returned to New York the same evening, 
 and early the next morning Arnold conveyed to General 
 
 THE ROBINSON HOUSE. (From a Sketch by the Author in 1849.) 
 
 Clinton the first intelligence of the capture of Major Andre. 
 Let us go back to Arnold's quarters at Robinson's house, in 
 the Highlands. 
 
 Washington arrived, at Arnold's quarters an hour after
 
 96 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 the traitor's flight. Informed of the illness of Mrs. Arnold, 
 and that her husband had gone over to West Point, the 
 chief took a hurried breakfast and proceeded thither with 
 all his staff, excepting Colonel Hamilton. As they touched 
 the west shore of the river they were surprised at not re- 
 ceiving the usual cannon-salute. 
 
 " Is not General Arnold here ? " Washington asked Colo- 
 nel Lamb. 
 
 " No, sir," Lamb replied ; " he has not been here for two 
 days, nor have I heard from him in that time." 
 
 Meanwhile Hamilton, as Washington's private secretary, 
 had received and examined the papers taken from Andre's 
 stocking ; also the letters of Jameson, and that of the pris- 
 oner to Washington revealing the conspiracy. Hamilton 
 immediately sought his chief. He met him on his way up 
 from the river, and told him of his discovery of Arnold's 
 treason and of his flight to the Vulture. Men were dis- 
 patched to Verplanck's Point to intercept him, but they 
 arrived too late. An order was sent to Colonel Jameson 
 to forward Andr6 to West Point immediately. He said to 
 Lafayette and Knox, sadly : 
 
 " Arnold is a traitor ! Whom can we trust now ? " The 
 whole plot was revealed, and the danger impending over 
 the post was made manifest. 
 
 Yet Washington gave no outward sign of excitement. He 
 sent couriers in all directions with ordejs for the strength- 
 ening of every redoubt, and ordered Greene to put the army 
 at Tappaan in readiness to move toward West Point at a 
 moment's warning. But it was soon evident that the danger 
 was overpast. Informed of Mrs. Arnold's sad condition, he 
 said to one of his aides, H' Go to her and inform her that, 
 though my duty required that no means should be neglected
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 97 
 
 to arrest General Arnold, I have great pleasure in acquaint- 
 ing her that he is now safe on board a British vessel of war." ' 
 
 Andr6 was brought to the Robinson house early on the 
 26th (September, 1780). He had been aroused from slumber 
 at midnight to begin a dreary journey in a falling rain, un- 
 der a strong escort led by Lieutenant King. On the way 
 they were joined by Major Tallrnadge and one or two other 
 officers. Tallmadge was made the special custodian of the 
 prisoner from that time until his execution ; and on the 
 evening of the 26th Andre was conveyed to West Point. 
 
 General Greene was in chief command of the American 
 army during Washington's absence. Its headquarters were 
 at Tappaan (usually called Orangetown), a short distance 
 from the west shore of the Hudson. Washington sent secret 
 orders to Greene to receive the prisoner. 
 
 " THE '76 STONE HOUSE." 
 
 On the morning of the 28th Andre, with a strong escort, 
 went down the river in a barge, landed at the King's Ferry, 
 and journeyed to Tappaan on horseback. There he was 
 lodged in a substantial stone dwelling belonging to Mr.
 
 98 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Maybie, known, in our day, as a tavern, by the name of 
 " The '76 Stone House." 
 
 On this journey of a day, Tallmadge and Andre, who were 
 about equal in age, had much free conversation. The pris- 
 oner's custodian, like every one else, was fascinated by the 
 young soldier, and was deeply impressed with sympathy for 
 him. In reply to a question by Tallmadge, Andr6 said that, 
 in the enterprise in which he was engaged, all he sought was 
 military glory, the applause of his king and his country, and per- 
 haps a brigadier ship. He asked Tallmadge in what light he 
 would be regarded by General Washington and a military 
 tribunal. Tallmadge tried to evade an answer, but, being 
 pressed, he said : 
 
 " I had a much-loved classmate in Yale College by the 
 name of Nathan Hale, who entered the army in 1775. Im- 
 mediately after the battle of Long Island, General Washing- 
 ton wanted information respecting the strength, position, 
 and probable movements of the enemy. Captain Hale ten- 
 dered his services, went over to Brooklyn, and was taken 
 just as he was passing the outposts of the enemy on his 
 return. Do you remember the sequel of the story ? " " Yes," 
 said Andre, " he was hanged as a spy. But you surely do 
 not consider his case and mine alike." " Yes, precisely 
 similar ; and similar will be your fate," said Tallmadge. 
 
 In general orders on the 26th Greene proclaimed, " Trea- 
 son of the blackest dye was discovered yesterday." He then 
 gave a general account of the affair to the army and the peo- 
 ple. It created wide-spread indignation and alarm, but the 
 latter feeling was tempered by the concluding words of the 
 order: " Arnold has made his escape to the enemy; but Ma- 
 jor Andre, the adjutant -general of the British army, who 
 came out as a spy to negotiate the business, is our prisoner."
 
 JOHN ANDRE. gg 
 
 The news of the capture of Andr6, and this ominous gen- 
 eral order, produced intense excitement in both armies, and 
 especially within the British lines. The evident sympathy 
 of Washington and some of his officers for the prisoner 
 when he was brought to Tappaan, created much feeling in 
 the American army. Some of the officers declared that if 
 they were not to be protected against such treacherous 
 conduct, and this spy be pardoned, it was time to leave the 
 army. In a manuscript account of the affair now before me, 
 written by Elias Boudinot, LL. D., the eminent American 
 commissary of prisoners, he observed : 
 
 " Though these were their sentiments, they were only 
 murmured from tent to tent. A few days convinced them 
 that they had a commander-in-chief who knew how to make 
 his compassion for the unfortunate and his duty to those 
 who depended upon him for protection to harmonize and 
 influence his conduct. He treated Major Andr6 with the 
 greatest tenderness, while he carried the sentence of the 
 council into execution according to the laws of war. At 
 New York, when the first account of Andre's capture and 
 condemnation arrived, the officers and citizens laughed at 
 the idea that the ' rebels ' would dare to execute the adju- 
 tant-general of the British army ; but, if it should take 
 place, vengeance in every form should be taken sevenfold. 
 But, when it was known that Andre was no more, General 
 Clinton shut himself up for three days, and every one at the 
 Coffee-House and other public places hung their heads, and 
 scarcely an observation relative to it escaped their lips." 
 
 Washington had returned to his headquarters at Tap- 
 paan,* and ordered a meeting of a board of officers on the 
 
 * This building is yet standing, and is in nearly the same condition as it was in 
 1780, at which time it belonged to John de Windt, a native of the Island of St. 
 
 8
 
 IOO 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 29th, to make careful inquiries and report their opinion " of 
 the light in which he [the prisoner] ought to be considered, 
 and what punishment ought to be inflicted." The board 
 consisted of six major-generals and eight brigadier-generals. 
 The court of inquiry was held in the Dutch church at 
 
 WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT TAPPAAN. 
 
 Tappaan. General Greene presided. When Andr6 was 
 brought before his judges, he gave a detailed statement of 
 the facts, and did not deny any of the specifications pre- 
 sented by the judge-advocate, John Laurance. After careful 
 deliberation the board reported that the prisoner " ought to 
 be considered as a spy from the enemy, and that, agreeably to 
 the law and usages of nations, it is their opinion he ought to 
 suffer death." "Andr6 met the result," wrote Colonel Ham- 
 Thomas. By a peculiar arrangement of bricks m its front wall, the date of its 
 construction 1700 may be seen. In a large room which Washington occupied 
 as his office, and where Andre's death-warrant was signed, the spacious fireplace was 
 surrounded by Dutch pictorial tiles, when I visited and made the above sketch, in 
 1849.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. IOI 
 
 ilton, " with manly firmness. ' I foresee my fate/ he said, 
 ' and though I pretend not to play the hero, or be indifferent 
 to life, yet I am reconciled to whatever may happen, con- 
 scious that misfortune, not guilt, has brought it upon me.' " 
 
 Washington approved the finding of the court of in- 
 quiry, and sentenced Andre to be hung as a spy on the first 
 day of October, at five o'clock in the afternoon. He sent an 
 account of the proceedings of the court and a letter from 
 Andre to Sir Henry Clinton.* 
 
 //Meanwhile great exertions had been made to save 
 Andre from his sad fate. General Clinton wrote to Wash- 
 ington (September 26th) that Andre was not a legal spy, for 
 a flag of truce had been sent to receive him, and passports 
 were granted for his return. On receiving the papers from 
 Washington, Sir Henry wrote a second letter to the Ameri- 
 can chief commander, expressing the opinion that the board 
 " had not been rightly informed of all the circumstances," 
 and asked a postponement of the execution until a confer- 
 ence might be held. The request was granted. The exe- 
 cution was postponed one day. General Greene met Gen- 
 eral Robertson and others at Dobb's Ferry, not as an officer, 
 but as a private gentleman, but nothing occurred to war- 
 rant a change in the opinion of the board of inquiry and 
 the decision of Washington. f 
 
 * This letter evinced great tenderness of feeling toward his commander. He 
 declared that the events connected with his coming within the American lines were 
 contrary to his own intentions, and avowed the object of his letter to be to remove 
 from Sir Henry's mind any suspicion that he (Andre 1 ) imagined he was bound by 
 his Excellency's orders to expose himself to what had happened. 
 
 f General Robertson bore a letter from Arnold to Washington, which he re- 
 served until all oral arguments had failed, when he read it to the gentlemen of the 
 conference. Had there been a chance for coming to an understanding in regard 
 to Andre before, this impudent letter from the traitor would have destroyed it. 
 Arnold said : " If, after this just and candid opinion of Major Andre's case, the
 
 102 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 The Americans would gladly have saved the life of An- 
 dr6 could Arnold have been given up to them. Efforts to 
 that end were made. Unofficial overtures were made to 
 Clinton to exchange Arnold for Andr6, but honor forbade 
 the act. All efforts in this direction failed. 
 
 On the morning of October ist, the day on which Andre 
 expected to die, he wrote the following touching note to 
 Washington : 
 
 " SIR : -Buoyed above the terror of death by the con- 
 sciousness of a life devoted to honorable pursuits, and 
 stained with no action that can give remorse, I trust that the 
 request I make to your Excellency at this serious period, and 
 which is to soften my last moments, will not be rejected. 
 
 "Sympathy toward a soldier will surely induce your 
 Excellency and a military tribunal to adapt the mode of my 
 death to the feelings of a man of honor. 
 
 " Let me hope, sir, that if aught in my character im- 
 presses you with esteem toward me, if aught in my misfor- 
 tune marks me as the victim of policy and not of resent- 
 ment, I shall experience the operation of those feelings in 
 your breast by being informed that I am not to die on a 
 gibbet. 
 
 " I have the honor to be your Excellency's most obedient 
 and most humble servant, JOHN ANDRE." 
 
 Colonel Hamilton urged Washington to comply with 
 Andrews request, but the commander could not grant it. 
 
 board of general officers adhere to their former opinion, I shall suppose it dictated 
 by passion and resentment ; and, if that gentleman should suffer the severity of the 
 sentence, I shall think myself bound by every tie of duty and honor to retaliate on 
 such unhappy persons of your army as may fall in my power, that the respect due 
 to flags and the law of nations may be better understood and observed."
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 103 
 
 Unwilling to wound the feelings of the prisoner by a re- 
 fusal, he did not reply to the note. 
 
 On the preceding evening Andre wrote letters to his 
 mother, sisters, Miss Seward, and other friends, and made a 
 pen-and-ink sketch of himself sitting at a table with a pen 
 in his hand. On the following morning he made a rude 
 sketch, with pen and ink, depicting the scene of his passage 
 from the Vulture to the shore, when he went to meet Ar- 
 nold.* 
 
 At noon on the 2d day of October, 1780, Major Andre 
 was executed upon an eminence near Tappaan village, in the 
 presence of a vast concourse of people. He was dressed in 
 full military costume and white top-boots. He was taken 
 to the gallows a cross-piece between two moderate-sized 
 trees by a procession of nearly all the field-officers, except- 
 ing Washington and his staff, who remained at headquar- 
 ters. General Greene led the cavalcade, which passed be- 
 tween two files of soldiers, extending from the prison up to 
 the fatal spot. The prisoner's step was firm, and he did not 
 falter until he saw the gallows, and knew he was to be 
 hanged as a felon and not shot as a soldier. His hesitation 
 was only for a moment. 
 
 A baggage-wagon, bearing a plain pine coffin, had been 
 driven under the gallows. A grave had ; been dug near by. 
 Into the wagon the prisoner stepped and, taking the rope 
 from the hangman, adjusted it to his neck, and tied a white 
 handkerchief over his eyes. Then Adjutant-General Scam- 
 
 * The size of the original drawing from which the above sketch was made is 
 twelve by seven inches. It will be observed that Andre" has but one oarsman, in- 
 stead of two, as was the case. The drawing was found on his table by his servant 
 after the execution, and delivered by him at New York to Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Crosby of Andrews regiment (the Twenty-second), and who, on his return to Eng- 
 land, caused a fac-simile of it to be produced by the mezzotint process of engraving.
 
 104 
 
 THE TWO SPIES.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. IO 5 
 
 mell read the order for the execution in a clear voice, and 
 at its conclusion told Andre that he might speak if he de- 
 sired it. The prisoner lifted the handkerchief from his 
 eyes and, bowing courteously to General Greene and his 
 officers, said in firm voice, " All I request of you, gentle- 
 men, is that, while I acknowledge the propriety of my sen- 
 tence, you will bear me witness that I die like a brave 
 man." In an undertone he murmured, " It will be but a 
 momentary pang." The wagon was driven swiftly from 
 under him, and in a few minutes he ceased to exist. 
 
 " Thus died in the bloom of life," wrote Dr. Thacher, a 
 surgeon of the Continental army, who was present, " the 
 accomplished Major Andre, the pride of the royal army and 
 the valued friend of Sir Henry Clinton." The same author- 
 ity wrote that Andre's regimentals, which had been brought 
 up to Tappaan by his servant, were handed to that servant, 
 and he was buried near one of the trees which formed the 
 gibbet. . 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ALMOST universal sympathy was felt and expressed for 
 Major Andre. He was_undoubtedly an involuntary spy. 
 The court of inquiry which decided his fate came to their 
 conclusions with regret ; but duty, the law of nations, and 
 the exigencies of war, compelled them to give such a verdict 
 as they did. Washington signed his death-warrant with re- 
 luctance and with much emotion. All the American officers 
 were moved by deep sympathy for him. Some of the 
 younger officers Lafayette, Hamilton, Tallmadge, and oth- 
 ers were enamored with him, and became attached to him.
 
 106 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " From the few days of intimate intercourse I had with 
 him," wrote Tallmadge, " I became so deeply attached to 
 Major Andre that I could remember no instance when my 
 affections were so fully absorbed by any man." The multi- 
 tude who saw the execution were deeply moved with com- 
 passion. Dr. Thacher says the tears of thousands fell on 
 that occasion.yfThe event made a deep impression upon 
 both armies.^ The king specially honored the memory of 
 Andr6 by ordering a notable mural monument to be erected 
 in Westminster Abbey, near the " Poets' Corner." A pict- 
 ure of this monument is seen in the engraving.* The me- 
 morial was executed in statuary marble, and is about seven 
 and a half feet in height. It represents a sarcophagus with 
 a device in low relief, and elevated upon a paneled pedestal, 
 upon which are appropriate inscriptions.f On the sarcoph- 
 agus is a representation of Washington and his officers in 
 his tent at the moment when he received the report of the 
 court of inquiry ; at the same time a messenger has arrived 
 
 * The original drawing from which the engraving was made was received from 
 London in 1849 by the author of this little work, together with a copy of a profile 
 likeness of Andre' simply the head and shoulders said to have been drawn by 
 himself. 
 
 f Upon a panel is the following inscription : " Sacred to the memory of Major 
 JOHN ANDR , who, raised to the rank of Adjutant-General of the British Army in 
 America, and employed in an important and hazardous enterprise, fell a saciidce 
 to his zeal for his king and country, on the 2d of October, A. D. 1780, eminently be- 
 loved and esteemed by the army in which he served, and lamented even by his 
 foes. His gracious sovereign, KING GEORGE THE THIRD, has caused this monu- 
 ment to be erected." 
 
 After the removal of Andre's remains to Westminster Abbey, as mentioned in 
 the text, the following inscription was cut upon the base of the pedestal : 
 
 "The remains of Major JOHN ANDRE" were, on the loth of August, 1821, re- 
 moved from Tappaan by JAMES BUCHANAN, Esq., his Majesty's Consul at New 
 York, under instructions from his Royal Highness the DUKE OF YORK, and, with 
 the permission of the Dean and Chapter, finally deposited in a grave contiguous to 
 this monument on the 28th of November, 1821."
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 107 
 
 with the letter of Andre to Washington asking for a soldier's 
 death. On the right is a guard of Continental soldiers, and 
 a tree on which Andr6 was executed. Two men are pre- 
 
 SACRED U/it .MEMOIR 
 
 MAJOR J<m AWDRE 
 
 - 
 
 ANDRE'S MONUMENT IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 paring the prisoner for execution, while at the foot of the 
 tree sit Mercy and Innocence. On the top of the sarcoph- 
 agus is the British lion, and the figure of Britannia, who
 
 108 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 is lamenting the fate of Andre. The king settled a pension 
 upon the family of Andre, and, to wipe out the imputed 
 stain produced by his death as a spy, the honor of knight- 
 .hood was conferred upon his brother, y 
 
 As related in the inscription on the pedestal of Andre's 
 monument, given in a foot-note, Mr. Buchanan caused his re- 
 mains to be disinterred and sent to England. Two small 
 cedar-trees were growing near the grave wherein lay his 
 remains. A portion of one of these was sent with the re- 
 mains, and, at the suggestion of the consul, the duke caused 
 a snuff-box to be made of it for the Rev. Mr. Demorest, of 
 Tappaan, who gave Mr. Buchanan much assistance in his 
 undertaking. It was elegant in design, was lined with gold, 
 and was inscribed with the words : 
 
 " From his Royal Highness the Duke of York, to mark 
 his sense of the Rev. John Demorest's liberal attention upon 
 the occasion of the removal of the remains of the late Major 
 Andre, at Tappaan, on the loth of August, 1821." 
 
 The surviving sisters of Andr6 sent a silver cup to Mr. 
 Demorest, with a suitable inscription ; also an inkstand to 
 the British consul. 
 
 Two monuments have been erected at different times on 
 the spot where Andre was executed, each with the sole pur- 
 pose of commemorating this very important event in our 
 national history, and to mark the exact locality of its occur- 
 rence. One of these monuments was set up by James Lee,* 
 a public-spirited New York merchant, nearly forty years 
 
 * It was chiefly through the liberality and personal influence of Mr. Lee that 
 the funds were raised for procuring the fine bronze equestrian statue of WASHING- 
 TON, by H. K. Brown, at Union Square, New York. That was the first statue 
 erected in the open air in that city, and is not surpassed in artistic merit by any 
 since set up there.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 109 
 
 ago. It consisted of a small bowlder, upon the upper surface 
 of which were cut the words, " ANDRE WAS EXECUTED 
 OCTOBER 2, 1780." It was on the right side of a lane which 
 ran from the highway from Tappaan village to old Tappaan, 
 on the westerly side of a large peach-orchard, and about a 
 mile from Washington's headquarters. I visited the spot 
 in 1849, and made a drawing of this simple memorial-stone 
 for my " Pictorial Field Book of the Revolution." In a foot- 
 note of that work (vol. i, p. 772) I said, " A more elegant 
 and durable monument should be erected on the spot." 
 
 BOWLDER-MONUMENT. 
 
 A " more elegant and durable monument " was placed 
 on the same spot a few years ago by another public-spirited 
 New York merchant, Mr. Cyrus W. Field, and bears an in- 
 scription written by the late Rev. Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, 
 the Dean of Westminster. When that eminent divine and 
 earnest friend of our country and admirer of our free insti- 
 tutions was about to visit the United States in 1878, he made
 
 IIO THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 a list of the objects and localities which he desired to see 
 while here. Among these was the place of Andre's execu- 
 tion. 
 
 While Dean Stanley was visiting Mr. Field at his coun- 
 try residence on the eastern bank of the Hudson, nearly 
 opposite Tappaan, he with his two traveling companions and 
 their host crossed the river, and, with one or two citizens of 
 Tappaan, visited places of historic interest in the vicinity. 
 They found that nothing marked the place of Andrews exe- 
 cution, and that it had even been a subject of controversy. 
 The bowlder-monument had been removed several years 
 before. The dean expressed his surprise and regret that no 
 object indicated the locality of such an important historical 
 event, when Mr. Field said he would erect a memorial-stone 
 there at his own expense upon certain conditions. A few 
 days afterward (October, 1878) he wrote to a citizen of 
 Tappaan : 
 
 " I am perfectly willing to erect a monument on ' Andre 
 Hill ' [so named by the people in commemoration of the 
 event which occurred there], and the dean will write an in- 
 scription, if the people who own the land will make a grant 
 of about twenty square feet for the purpose." 
 
 So soon as it became known that Mr. Field proposed to 
 erect a memorial-stone at Tappaan, a correspondent of a 
 New York morning journal denounced the intention, upon 
 the wholly erroneous assumption that it was to be a " monu- 
 ment in honor of Major Andre, the British spy." Other 
 correspondents, equally uninformed, followed with denun- 
 ciations. A storm of apparently indignant protests, or 
 worse, ensued ; and one writer, lacking courage to give his 
 name, made a threat that, if Mr. Field should set up a me- 
 morial-stone upon the place where Andre was executed,
 
 JOHN ANDRE. I T i 
 
 " ten thousand men " were ready to pull it down and cast it 
 into the river ! These writers, many of whom concealed 
 their real names, created considerable feeling- in the public 
 mind unfavorable to the project, and elicited a multitude of 
 appeals to the patriotism and the prejudices of the American 
 people, to oppose what ? a phantom ! 
 
 This intemperate and unwise correspondence continued 
 several weeks. There were calm defenders of Mr. Field's 
 motives in proposing to erect a monument, by persons who 
 were well informed and had a clear perception of the intent 
 and importance of such an act. The discussion was fruitful 
 of some good. It had the salutary effect of calling public 
 attention to the claims of NATHAN HALE, the notable mar- 
 tyr spy of the Revolution, to a memorial tribute a public 
 recognition of his virtues and his deeds which had been so 
 long deferred by our people. These claims were now ear- 
 nestly advocated, not only by Mr. Field's critics, but by pa- 
 triotic citizens. Considerable sums of money were offered 
 for the laudable purpose of erecting a suitable monument in 
 the city of New York to the memory of Hale. Several per- 
 sons offered one hundred dollars each. 
 
 Before the visit of Mr. Field and the dean, Mr. Henry 
 Whittemore, a public-spirited citizen of Tappan, and Secre- 
 tary of the Rockland County Historical Society, had found 
 four living men who were present at the disinterment of 
 Andre's remains in 1821. With these men he went to "An- 
 dre Hill," where they identified the place of the spy's 
 grave.* The requisite plot of ground was secured by Mr. 
 
 * Mr. Whittemore had procured this identification fully six months before the 
 visit of Mr. Field and his guests, with the view to have a memorial-stone placed 
 upon the spot. He had consulted with the owner of the land about it. The latter 
 believed it would enhance the value of his property, and favored the project.
 
 H2 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Field, who was compelled to buy many surrounding acres 
 at an exorbitant price. Then, relying upon the good sense 
 the intelligence, and the patriotism of the American people 
 for a just appreciation of his motives, he proceeded to have 
 a memorial-stone prepared. 
 
 Soon after Dean Stanley returned home he wrote the 
 promised inscription, and, in a letter to Mr. Whittemore 
 (January, 1879), ne said: 
 
 " I have sent to Mr. Cyrus W. Field the inscription sug 
 gested. Perhaps you will kindly see that the facts are cor 
 
 DEAN STANLEY'S AUTOGRAPH. 
 
 rectly stated. It is desirable that the inscription should 
 contain neither an attack nor a defense of Andre, but only
 
 JOHN ANDRE. II3 
 
 an expression of sympathy with him in his tragical fate, 
 and with Washington for the difficult circumstances in which 
 the judges were placed. 
 
 "A wreath of autumn leaves from the Hudson I had 
 placed on the monument in the abbey attracts universal 
 attention. I have also the silver medals of Washington's 
 headquarters, and the old Dutch church at Tappaan. 
 " I remain, yours gratefully, 
 
 " A. P. STANLEY." * 
 
 On the 2d of October, 1879, tne ninety-ninth anniversary 
 of the execution of Andre, the monument prepared by Mr. 
 Field's order, and placed over the spot where the spy was 
 buried,' was uncovered in the presence of representatives of 
 the Historical Societies of New York, and Rockland County, 
 of officers of the army of the United States, of the news- 
 paper press and other gentlemen, and a few ladies. At noon, 
 the hour of the day when Andr6 was executed, Mr. Field 
 directed the workmen to uncover the memorial. There was 
 no pomp or ceremony on the occasion. Not a speech was 
 uttered, nor a token of applause given. 
 
 From " Andre Hill " the company went with Mr. Whitte- 
 more to his home in Washington's headquarters and the 
 room in which Andre's death-warrant was signed. While 
 there the neglect of the memory of Nathan Hale, shown 
 by the American people, was spoken of, when Mr. Field 
 said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, if I may be granted permission, I will erect 
 a monument in memory of Nathan Hale on the spot where 
 
 * Above may be seen a fac-simile of the last paragraph of Dean Stanley's 
 letter.
 
 H4 THE TWO SPIES - 
 
 he suffered death in the city of New York, if the place may 
 be found." 
 
 Several years ago Mr. Field made a similar offer to the 
 New York Historical Society.* More than thirty years 
 before, he was a contributor to the fund raised to erect 
 the modest monument in memory of Hale at South Co- 
 ventry, delineated on page 26 ; and he was next to the 
 largest contributor to the fund for procuring the bronze 
 statue of a captor of Andre that surmounts the monu- 
 ment at Tarrytown, which commemorates that important 
 event. 
 
 The memorial-stone erected at Tappaan is composed of 
 a shaft of Quincy gray granite, standing upon a pedestal of 
 the same material. The whole structure is about nine feet 
 in height from the ground to the apex. It is perfectly 
 chaste in design. There is no ornamentation. The granite 
 is highly polished. It stands upon an elevation, about two 
 miles from the Hudson River, and thirty yards from the 
 boundary-line between New York and New Jersey, and 
 overlooks a beautiful country, f On its west side it bears 
 the following inscription, written by Dean Stanley : 
 
 * The letter of Mr. Field conveying his generous offer to the New York His- 
 torical Society (September, 1880) was referred to the Executive Committee. They 
 warmly recommended its favorable consideration by the society. In their report, 
 referring to the event commemorated by the memorial-stone at Tappaan, the com- 
 mittee said it was an "event which, perhaps, more signally than any other act 
 of his life, illustrates the wisdom and firmness of Washington under circum- 
 stances of peculiar trial, in which even his devoted followers were disposed 
 to question his humanity, if not his justice, and almost to fall in with the sen- 
 timental calumny of the day, which has been so often reviewed and refuted as 
 to become ridiculous. The memorial-stone of Andrews execution is a monument 
 to Washington." 
 
 \ The engraving is from the original drawing of the architect. Just below the 
 inscription, at the bottom of the shaft, is cut " ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, DEAN 
 OF WESTMINSTER."
 
 JOHN ANDRE. H5 
 
 "HERE DIED, OCTOBER 2, 1780, 
 MAJOR JOHN ANDRE", OF THE BRITISH ARMY, 
 
 WHO, ENTERING THE AMERICAN LINES 
 ON A SECRET MISSION TO BENEDICT ARNOLD, 
 
 FOR THE SURRENDER OF WEST POINT, 
 WAS TAKEN PRISONER, TRIED AND CONDEMNED AS A SPY. 
 
 HIS DEATH, 
 THOUGH ACCORDING TO THE STERN RULE OF WAR, 
 
 MOVED EVEN HIS ENEMIES TO PITY ; 
 AND BOTH ARMIES MOURNED THE FATE 
 
 OF ONE SO YOUNG AND SO BRAVE. 
 IN l82I HIS REMAINS WERE REMOVED TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 A HUNDRED YEARS AFTER THE EXECUTION 
 
 THIS STONE WAS PLACED ABOVE THE SPOT WHERE HE LAY, 
 
 BY A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES, AGAINST WHICH HE FOUGHT, 
 
 NOT TO PERPETUATE THE RECORD OF STRIFE, 
 
 BUT IN TOKEN OF THOSE BETTER FEELINGS 
 
 WHICH HAVE SINCE UNITED TWO NATIONS, 
 
 ONE IN RACE, IN LANGUAGE, AND IN RELIGION, 
 
 WITH THE HOPE THAT THIS FRIENDLY UNION 
 
 WILL NEVER BE BROKEN." 
 
 On the north face : 
 
 " HE WAS MORE UNFORTUNATE THAN CRIMINAL." 
 " AN ACCOMPLISHED MAN AND GALLANT OFFICER." 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 The first of these two lines was quoted from a letter of 
 Washington to Count de Rochambeau, October 10, 1780. 
 (See Sparks's " Life and Writings of Washington," vol. vii, 
 p. 241.) The second line is from the sentence of a letter 
 written by Washington to Colonel John Laurens on the 
 1 3th of October. (See Sparks, vol. vii, p. 256.) 
 
 On the north face of the stone are the words : 
 
 "SUNT LACRYM^E RERUM ET MENTEM MORTALIA TANGUNT." 
 
 The east front was left blank for another inscription. 
 Such, in a few sentences, is the story of the erection of 
 
 the memorial-stone at Tappaan by Mr. Field. The idea was 
 9
 
 Il6 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 the product of spontaneous thought, elicited by a special 
 occasion. The sole object to be attained is the laudable 
 and patriotic one of perpetuating, by a visible record, the 
 memory of one of the most important events in our history, 
 
 MEMORIAL AT TAPPAAN. 
 
 at the place of its occurrence. That event has two promi- 
 nent aspects, namely : the courage, patriotism, faith in the ; 
 American people, and the unswerving fidelity in the dis- 
 charge of a momentous trust, of our beloved Washington 
 and his officers, in the face of most extraordinary tempta- 
 tions to do otherwise ; and the execution as a spy of the 
 adjutant -general of the British army, while that army,
 
 JOHN ANDRE. uj 
 
 twenty thousand strong, was lying only a few miles distant, 
 and supported by powerful ships of war. 
 
 These were the events to be commemorated by this 
 memorial-stone, and not the name or character of any indi- 
 vidual. It was no more a monument " in honor of Major 
 Andre, the British spy," than was the monument of white 
 marble, twenty-five feet in height, which was erected by pa- 
 triotic men, in 1853, to mark the spot at Tarrytown where 
 the spy was captured, or the naming of the rivulet near 
 which it stands " Andre Brook." Surely every intelligent 
 and right-minded American, clearly comprehending the 
 truth of the whole matter, will award to Mr. Field the meed 
 of praise for his generous and patriotic deed. 
 
 An attempt was made on the night of November 3, 1885, 
 to destroy the beautiful memorial-stone at Tappaan by an 
 explosion of dynamite. The pedestal was shattered into 
 pieces, but the shaft was only shaken from its perpendicular 
 position. This crime was the logical result of persistent mis- 
 representation of the character and intent of the memorial 
 in some of the newspapers. Twice before, attempts had 
 been made to destroy it ; the first time by a defacement of 
 the inscription by a misguided person who, on a dark night, 
 battered the letters, many of them almost beyond recog- 
 nition. The destroyer* left a small American flag hanging 
 over the monument from a stick, supported by a pile of 
 stones, upon the apex ; also the following lines, the product, 
 evidently, of one moved by a spirit of conscious untruthful- 
 ness, or of profound ignorance of the character of the object 
 assailed : 
 
 * It was ascertained that the perpetrator of the crime was a " crank " a printer, 
 in the city of New York who, after eluding the officers of the law for some time, 
 finally died.
 
 118 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " Too long hath stood the traitor's shaft, 
 
 A monument to shame, 
 Built up to praise the traitor's craft, 
 
 To sanctify ill fame. 
 Are freemen bound to still forbear, 
 
 And meekly still implore, 
 When conquered foes their altars rear 
 
 Within our very door . 
 
 " This vulgar and insulting stone 
 
 Would honor for all time, 
 Not sneaking Andre's death alone, 
 
 But black Ben Arnold's crime. 
 And they, who thus can glorify 
 
 The traitor and his deeds, 
 Themselves high treason would employ 
 
 If 'twould fulfill their needs. 
 
 " Americans ! resolve, proclaim 
 That on our own dear land, 
 Never, while the people reign, 
 Shall treason's statue stand ! 
 And he who dares erect it next, 
 
 On fair Columbia's breast, 
 With furtive or with false pretext, 
 Shall dangle from its crest ! " 
 
 The second attempt to destroy the memorial-stone was 
 made on a dark night. Nitro-glycerine or dynamite was 
 used for the purpose. The explosion was heard for miles 
 around. The perpetrator of the deed was not discovered. 
 The stones of the pedestal were shattered, but the shaft re- 
 mained in an upright position. 
 
 Mr. Field had the damages to the memorial repaired. 
 He designed to have the acres around it fashioned into a 
 handsome little park. He also proposed to erect within the 
 grounds a fire-proof building for the use of the Rockland 
 County Historical and Forestry Society as a depository of 
 historical and other relics of that county, the building to be
 
 fOHN ANDRE, !I 9 
 
 presented to the society, and the park to the citizens of Tap- 
 paan, as a free gift. The outrage of November 3, 1885, may 
 frustrate this generous plan. 
 
 Two days after that outrage, a New York morning jour- 
 nal of large circulation and wide influence declared that 
 "the malignity with which the people about Tappaan regard 
 Mr. Field's monument to Andre appears to be settled and 
 permanent." To this grave indictment of the inhabitants of 
 a portion of Rockland County as participants in the crime, 
 that people responded by resolutions unanimously adopted 
 at an indignation meeting held at the Reformed Church at 
 Tappaan on the evening of the 9th. They denounced the 
 charge as utterly untrue, expressed their belief that no per- 
 son in the vicinity had " the remotest connection " with the 
 crime ; that it was desirable to have the place of Andrews 
 execution indicated by a memorial-stone with a suitable in- 
 scription, and commended Mr. Field for his zeal in perpetu- 
 ating events of the Revolution in such a manner.* 
 
 In the foregoing narrative I have endeavored to present 
 a brief, plain, and truthful story of the memorial at Tappaan, 
 about which so much has been said and written. I have 
 fashioned it from trustworthy materials. I have simply re- 
 corded the facts, and leave the readers to form their own 
 conclusions. 
 
 ^ The monument at Tarrytown has been alluded to. It 
 was erected in 1853, on the spot where tradition says Major 
 Andre was captured, to commemorate that event. It bore 
 upon a tablet the following inscription : 
 
 " On this spot, the 23d of September, 1780, the spy, Major 
 
 * A petition addressed to the Governor of the State, asking him to assist in an 
 effort to discover the perpetrator of the crime, was signed by a large number of the 
 most respectable citizens of Rockland County.
 
 I2O 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 
 
 MONUMENT AND STATUE AT TARRYTOWN.
 
 JOHN ANDRE. I2I 
 
 John Andre, Adjutant-General of the British Army, was 
 captured by John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van 
 Wart, all natives of this county. History has told the rest. 
 
 " The people of Westchester County have erected this 
 monument as well to commemorate a great event as to tes- 
 tify their high estimation of that integrity and patriotism 
 which, rejecting every temptation, rescued the United 
 States from most imminent peril by baffling the acts of a 
 spy and the plots of a traitor. Dedicated October 7, 1853." 
 
 The citizens of Westchester County, desirous of giving 
 more significance to this monument, caused its conical shaft 
 to be removed, and in its place erected a bronze statue of a 
 captor a young volunteer soldier. This statue is the work 
 of the accomplished sculptor, Mr. O'Donovan, of New 
 York. 
 
 The monument and statue were unveiled in the presence 
 of thousands of spectators on the centennial of the event 
 commemorated the 23d of September, 1880. On that occa- 
 sion Samuel J. Tilden presided. A prayer was offered by 
 the venerable son of one of the captors, Isaac Van Wart, 
 and an oration was pronounced by Chauncey M. Depew. 
 General James Husted was the marshal of the day. 
 
 On one face of the monument is the old inscription, and 
 upon another, next to the highway, is a fine bronze bas- 
 relief representing the scene of the capture. This also is 
 from the atelier of Mr. O'Donovan. An excellent picture 
 of this work of art and of the statue may be found in the 
 " Memorial Souvenir of the Monument Association," pre- 
 pared by Dr. Sargent C. Husted, secretary of the asso- 
 ciation, y
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE.
 
 ANNA SEWARD.
 
 THE AUTHOR OF THE MONODY. 
 
 ANNA SEWARD, the abiding friend and ever-faithful cor- 
 respondent of Major Andre until his death, was a daughter 
 of Thomas Seward, the canon-resident of Lichfield Cathe- 
 dral. She was born at Eyam, in Derbyshire, England, in 
 1747. Her education, superior to that of most girls of her 
 time, was superintended by her father, who was a graduate 
 of Oxford, a man of great moral worth, and noted for his 
 scholarship. 
 
 Miss Seward evinced a taste and a genius for poetic com- 
 position at a very early age, and before she reached the 
 period of young womanhood she attracted the attention of 
 local literary characters. She became a great favorite of 
 Dr. Samuel Johnson, who was a native of Lichfield and 
 was a frequent guest at the house of her father. On one 
 occasion, when she was about fourteen years of age, she 
 wrote a clever poetical address of welcome to Dr. Johnson, 
 which greatly pleased the recipient. Miss Seward is often 
 incidentally mentioned in Boswell's " Life of Johnson." 
 Writing of a visit at Mr. Seward's in 1775, when Anna was 
 twenty-eight years of age, Boswell, Johnson's shadow, says, 
 " And now, for the first time, I had the pleasure of seeing 
 his celebrated daughter, Miss Anna Seward, to whom I have 
 since been indebted for many civilities." 
 
 Miss Seward's first acquaintance with young Andr. her
 
 126 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 interest in his love-affair with Honora Sneyd, and her pleas- 
 ant epistolary and personal intercourse with him until his 
 departure for America, have been referred to in the early 
 portions of the brief notice of that young soldier's career 
 contained in this volume. During his service in America 
 she was his constant correspondent ; and she first informed 
 him of the death of Honora a short time before his own 
 tragic exit from earth. 
 
 The circumstances attending the death of her friend in- 
 spired Miss Seward to write her most notable and most 
 admired poem, " Monody on Major Andre"." She was then 
 thirty-three years old. It was printed for the author at 
 Lichfield early in 1781. Being consonant in its utterances 
 with the feelings of the British public at that time, it had a 
 large sale, and produced a powerful sensation. She received 
 congratulatory letters from literary people and others in 
 various parts of the kingdom. No man was more delighted 
 with it than was Dr. Johnson, " the colossus of English litera- 
 ture." 
 
 Johnson was a fierce Tory, and hated the Americans 
 with a spirit of savage ferocity. On one occasion, while at 
 Lichfield, he said, " I am willing to love all mankind, ex- 
 cepting an American." He called them " rascals," " robbers 
 and pirates," and angrily exclaimed, " I'd burn and destroy 
 them ! " Boswell says Miss Seward, who was present at this 
 outburst of passion, and whose feelings were favorable to 
 the American cause, boldly rebuked Johnson, saying, " Sir, 
 this is an instance that we are most violent against those we 
 have most injured." This delicate but keen reproach irri- 
 tated Johnson still more, and, says Boswell, " he roared out 
 another tremendous volley, which one might fancy could be 
 heard across the Atlantic." But Johnson and Anna Seward
 
 THE AUTHOR OF THE MONODY. I2 ; 
 
 remained good friends until a short time before the death of 
 the former. They corresponded with each other, and fre- 
 quently met in social circles. 
 
 I have said Dr. Johnson was delighted by Miss Seward's 
 " Monody." He exhibited that delight in the most public 
 manner by writing and publishing in the " Gentleman's 
 Magazine," over his own signature, the following poetic epis- 
 tle to the author : 
 
 "To Miss SEWARD, ON HER MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE: 
 
 " Above the frigid etiquette of form, 
 With the same animated feelings warm, 
 I come, fair maid, enamored of thy lays, 
 With tribute verse, to swell the note of praise. 
 Nor let the gentle Julia's * hand disclaim 
 The bold intrusion of an honest strain. 
 Nor is it mine alone 'tis the full voice 
 Of such as honor with no vulgar choice.t 
 Of such as feel each glowing line along 
 Once the bright subject of an humble song.J 
 The treasures of the female heart make known 
 By copying the soft movements of her own. 
 Woman should walk arrayed in her own robe, 
 The hope, the boast, the blessing of the globe. 
 " Shrewsbury. S. JOHNSON." 
 
 Miss Seward's " Monody " was dedicated to Sir Henry 
 Clinton. To it were appended three letters written to her 
 by young Andre immediately after his betrothal to and 
 personal separation from Honora Sneyd. These I have ap- 
 pended to the " Monody." The printed copy of that poem, 
 before me, bears the autograph signature of Anna Seward 
 at the end. 
 
 * Andre in his correspondence with Miss Seward on the topic of Honora ad- 
 dressed her as " Julia." 
 
 f A reading society at Shrewsbury is here alluded to. 
 
 \ Alluding to an " Essay on Woman," written by Johnson.
 
 I2 g THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 It was not long after Johnson's poetical epistle to the 
 author of the " Monody " appeared before an interruption of 
 the goodly feeling between him and his fair friend occurred. 
 In 1782 Johnson's " Lives of the British Poets" appeared, 
 in which he severely criticised the poetry of her cherished 
 friend Thomas Hayley. Ever ready and prompt to defend 
 heroically those she had learned to esteem, she instantly 
 took fire at the attack, and she wrote letters to her friends 
 which were far from complimentary to Johnson. To Hay- 
 ley she wrote : 
 
 " You have seen Dr. Johnson's ' Lives of the Poets.' 
 They have excited your generous indignation. A heart like 
 Hayley 's would shrink astonished to perceive a mind so 
 enriched with the power of genius capable of such cool 
 malignity. Yet the ' Gentleman's Magazine ' praised these 
 unworthy efforts to blight the laurels of undoubted fame. 
 Oh, that the venom may fall where it ought ! " 
 
 Animadversions by Miss Seward more severe than this 
 found their way, without her consent, into the public prints, 
 and deeply offended Dr. Johnson. The breach thus made 
 was never healed. Miss Seward refused to retract a word, 
 but persisted in her utterances. Sometimes, even after the 
 death of Dr. Johnson, in 1784, they were spiced with at- 
 tacks upon his personal character. These attacks drew 
 from Boswell a defense of his dead friend, whom he almost 
 adored, and in 1793 he and Miss Seward carried on a spirited 
 controversy in the " Gentleman's Magazine." 
 
 Miss Seward's writings in verse and prose were quite 
 voluminous. The latter, consisting of her literary corre- 
 spondence from 1784 to 1807, was published in six volumes 
 in the latter year. Her poetical works, with extracts from her 
 literary correspondence, edited by Sir Walter Scott, were
 
 THE AUTHOR OF THE MONODY. 
 
 129 
 
 published in three volumes in 1810. Next to her " Mono- 
 dy," in point of excellence and popularity, was her " Elegy 
 on Captain James Cook," the famous circumnavigator of 
 the globe. Of this performance Sir Walter Scott said, " It 
 conveyed a high impression of the original power of the 
 author." 
 
 The literary fame of Anna Seward has not been endur- 
 ing, and she, who was a conspicuous figure in the world of 
 letters in England during the last quarter of the eighteenth 
 century, is now almost forgotten. Her known social rela- 
 tions to Major Andre, and her " Monody," have perpetuated 
 her memory in the minds of Americans. It is said that, 
 when she was fully informed of all the circumstances con- 
 nected with the death of Andre, she was satisfied that she 
 had been unjust toward Washington in her animadversions 
 upon his character in her poem, and expressed a regret that 
 she had so misjudged him. 
 
 Miss Seward, in a letter to her friend Miss Ponsonby, re- 
 lated that several years after the peace a friend of Washing- 
 ton's, an American officer, introduced himself to her (Miss 
 Seward), saying he was commissioned by General Wash- 
 ington to call upon her and assure her that no circumstance 
 of his life had been so mortifying as to be censured in the 
 " Monody " on Andre as the pitiless author of his ignomin- 
 ious fate ; that he had labored to save him ; and that he re- 
 quested his friend to leave with Miss Seward a package of 
 papers which he had sent, consisting of copies of the records 
 of the court-martial, etc. " The American officer referred 
 to," says Sargent, " is supposed to have been Colonel Hum- 
 phreys." 
 
 Various opinions have been expressed concerning the 
 writings of Miss Seward. The literary circle of Lichfield,
 
 130 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 of which she was the central figure, appears to have been a 
 mutual-admiration society. The productions of each mem- 
 ber appear to have been eulogized by every other member. 
 Her friend, the celebrated Dr. Erasmus Darwin, declared 
 that she was " the inventress of epic elegy " ; the eccentric 
 philosopher Day called her a " prodigy of genius " ; while 
 the wits of London gently ridiculed the pretensions of the 
 literary Lichfieldians. Horace Walpole wrote : " Misses 
 Seward and Williams, and a half a dozen more of these har- 
 monious virgins, have no imagination, no novelty. Their 
 thoughts and phrases are like their gowns old remnants 
 cut and turned." The Rev. Alexander Dyce wrote : " She 
 was endowed with considerable genius, and with an ample 
 portion of that fine enthusiasm which sometimes may be 
 taken for it ; but her taste was far from good, and her numer- 
 ous productions (a few excepted) are disfigured by florid 
 ornament and elaborate magnificence." 
 
 After Miss Se ward's death, in 1809, there was published 
 a small volume with the title of " The Beauties of Anna 
 Seward." She died a maiden. The portrait preceding this 
 brief memoir is a carefully drawn copy with pen and ink 
 of an engraving by A. Garden, from the original picture 
 painted in 1763, when she was sixteen years of age, by Tilly 
 Kettle, an English portrait-painter of note, who was then 
 only about twenty-three years of age.
 
 MONODAY 
 
 ON 
 
 MAJOR ANDRE 
 
 BY Miss SEWARD, 
 (AUTHOR OF THE ELEGY ON CAPTAIN COOK.) 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED 
 
 LETTERS ADDRESSED TO HER 
 
 BY MAJOR ANDRE, 
 
 IN THE YEAR 1769. 
 
 LICHFIELD: 
 
 PRINTED AND SOLD BY J. JACKSON, FOR THE AUTHOR ; 
 
 SOLD ALSO BY ROBINSON, PATER-NOSTER ROW ; CADELL AND EVANS, IN THE 
 
 STRAND, LONDON ; PRINCE, OXFORD ; MERRILL, CAMBRIDGE J 
 
 AND PRATT AND CLINCH, BATH. 
 
 M.DCC.LXXXI. 
 
 [Price, Two- Shillings -and- Six- Pence. ~\ 
 10
 
 TO 
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY, 
 
 SIR HENRY CLINTON, 
 
 KNIGHT OF THE BATH. 
 
 SIR : With the zeal of a religious Enthusiast to his mur- 
 dered 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 Hero. 
 
 Distant Awe and Reverence prevent her offering these Effu- 
 sions of Gratitude to the Beneficent and Royal Patron of the 
 Andre" Family. May Mr. Andre's illustrious General, the 
 Guardian of his injured Honour, his conspicuous and personal 
 Friend, deign to accept them from One who was once happy in 
 the Friendship of the GLORIOUS SUFFERER. 
 Your Excellency's 
 
 Most obedient humble Servant, 
 
 ANNA SEWARD.
 
 MONODAY 
 
 ON 
 
 M AJ OR ANDRE 
 
 LOUD 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 ; 
 
 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, 
 
 Rais'd her white arm and stay'd th' uplifted spear ; 
 
 Then, in her place, bid Vengeance mount the car, 
 
 And glut with gore th' insatiate Dogs of War ! 
 
 * Victor-garland alluding to the conquest by Lord Cornwallis.
 
 136 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 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 her COOK'S morai, 
 
 While ANDRE fades upon his dreary bier, 
 
 And JULIA'S f only tribute is her tear? 
 
 Dear, lovely Youth ! whose gentle virtues stole 
 
 Thro' Friendship's soft'ning medium on her soul ! 
 
 Ah no ! with every strong resistless plea, 
 
 Rise the recorded days she pass'd with thee, 
 
 While each dim shadow of o'erwhelming years, 
 
 With Eagle-glance reverted, Mem'ry clears. 
 
 Belov'd 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 
 Each gen'rous virtue, and each taste refin'd. 
 
 * Bloody scroll. The court-martial decree, signed at Tappan, for Major An- 
 dre's execution. 
 
 f Julia the name by which Mr. Andre addressed the author in his correspond- 
 ence with her.
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE. 
 
 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 ; 
 And hence thy pencil, with his colours warm, 
 Caught ev'ry grace, and copied ev'ry charm, 
 Whose transient glories beam on Beauty's cheek, 
 And bid the glowing Ivory breathe and speak. 
 Blest pencil ! by kind Fate ordain'd to save 
 HONORA'S semblance from flier early grave, 
 Oh ! while on ^ JULIA'S arm it sweetly smiles, 
 And each lorn thought, each long regret 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's soul ! 
 
 * All his gifts. Mr. Andre has conspicuous talents for Poetry, Music, and 
 Painting. The news-papers mentioned a satiric poem of his upon Americans, 
 which was supposed to have stimulated this barbarity towards him [" The Cow- 
 Chase "]. Of his wit and vivacity, 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. 
 
 f Early grave. Miss Honora S. [Honora Sneyd], to whom Mr. Andre's attach- 
 ment was of such singular constancy, died in a consumption a few months before 
 he suffer'd death at Tappan. She had married another Gentleman [Richard Lovell 
 Edgeworth] four years after her engagement with Mr. Andre' had been dissolved 
 by parental authority. 
 
 \ Jttiia's arm. Mr. Andre drew two miniature pictures of Miss Honora S. 
 on his first acquaintance with her at Buxton, in the year 1769, one for himself, the 
 other for the author of this poem.
 
 138 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 While with nice hand he mark'd the living grace, 
 And matchless sweetness of HONORA'S face, 
 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 steadfast gaze ; 
 Trac'd with disorder'd 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. 
 
 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 bovv'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 ; 
 Science, and soft Affection's blended rays 
 Had 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. 
 
 * ' Twas thus Apdles. Prior is very elegant upon this circumstance in an Ode 
 to his Friend, Mr. Howard the Painter.
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE. 
 
 Dear lost HONORA ! o'er thy early bier 
 Sorrowing the Muse still sheds her sacred tear ! 
 The blushing Rose-bud in its vernal bed, 
 By Zephyrs fann'd, by glist'ring Dew-drops fed, 
 In June's gay 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 shall 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 ; 
 
 Tho' four long years a night of absence prove, 
 
 Yet Hope's soft Star shone trembling on his Love ; 
 
 Till * hov'ring Rumour chas'd the pleasing dream 
 
 And veil'd with Raven-wing the silver beam. 
 
 " HONORA lost ! my happy Rival's Bride ! 
 
 " Swell ye full Sails ! and roll thou mighty Tide ! 
 
 " O'er the dark Waves forsaken ANDR bear 
 
 " Amid the vollying Thunders of the War ! 
 
 " To win bright Glory from my Country's foes, 
 
 " E'en in this ice of Love, my bosom glows. 
 
 * Hov'ring Rumour, The tidings of Honora's Marriage. Upon that event 
 Mr. Andre quitted his Profession as a Merchant and join'd our Army in 
 America.
 
 140 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " 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 the tardy Spring ; 
 
 " Where Paintings burn 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 Reynolds' 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. 
 
 " Ye soft'ning 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 ardour 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 bourne 
 " To these gay scenes shall ANDRE'S step return !
 
 MONODY ON MA/OR ANDRE. 
 
 " 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 ! 
 
 " Yet without one kind farewell, could 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 ! 
 
 " 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'r 
 
 " Oh ! smile, my Sisters, on this destin'd day, 
 
 * Tuneful Anna. Miss Anna Andre has a poetical talent.
 
 142 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 " 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 dear record of my grateful breast. 
 
 " Oh ! graceful Priestess at the fane of Truth, 
 
 " Friend of my Soul ! and Guardian of my Youth ! 
 
 " Skill'd 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, 
 
 " Thy Tears ! ah Heav'n ! not drops of molten lead, 
 
 " Pour'd on thy hapless Son's devoted head, 
 
 " With keener 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, 
 
 * 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 needless to be more explicit on this subject, I know your Ex- 
 " cellency's goodness." See Major Andrews last letter to General Clinton, publish'd 
 in the Gazette.
 
 MONODY ON AfAJOR ANDRE. 
 
 " If here he languish in inglorious ease, 
 " Where Science 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 ! " 
 
 He says ! and sighing seeks the busy strand, 
 Where anchor'd Navies wait the wish'd command. 
 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 ; 
 For onward, as th' unbounded waters spread, 
 Deep sink the rocks in their capacious bed, 
 And all their pointed terror's utmost force 
 But gently interrupts the billow's course. 
 
 So on his present hour rude Passion preys ! 
 So smooth the prospect of his future days ! 
 Unconscious of the Storm, that 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.
 
 144 THE TWO 
 
 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 ANDRE * leads the glorious way ; 
 Till, rashly bold, by numbers forc'd to yield, 
 They drag him captive from the long-fought field. 
 Around the Hero crowd 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 ornament, 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 ! f tho' mute and cold thy charms, 
 
 " Ne'er hast thou blest my happy Rival's arms ! 
 
 * Impetuous Andrt. It is in this passage only that fiction has been employ'd 
 thro' the narrative of the poem. Mr. Andr was a prisoner in America, soon after 
 his arrival there, but the Author is unacquainted with the circumstances of the 
 action in which he was taken. 
 
 \Shade of my Love. The miniature of Honora. A letter from Major Andre
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE. ^5 
 
 " To my sad heart each Dawn has seen thee prest ! 
 " Each Night has laid thee pillow'd on my breast ! 
 " Force shall not tear thee from thy faithful shrine ; 
 " Shade of my Love ! thou shalt be ever mine ! 
 
 " Tis fix'd ! these lips shall resolute enclose 
 " The precious Soother of my ceaseless woes. 
 " And shou'd relentless Violence invade 
 " This last retreat, by frantic Fondness made, 
 " One way remains ! Fate whispers to my Soul 
 " Intrepid * Portia and her burning coal ! 
 " So shall the throbbing Inmate of my breast 
 " From Love's sole gift meet everlasting rest ! " 
 
 While these sad thoughts in swift succession fire 
 The smother'd embers of each fond desire, 
 Quick to his mouth his eager hands removes 
 The beauteous semblance of the Form he loves. 
 That darling treasure safe, resign'd he wears 
 The sordid robe, the scanty viand shares ; 
 With cheerful fortitude content to wait 
 The barter'd ransom of a kinder Fate. 
 
 Now many a Moon in her pale course had shed 
 The pensive beam on ANDRE'S captive head. 
 
 to one of his Friends, written a few years ago, contained the following sentence : 
 " I have been taken prisoner by the Americans and stript of everything except the 
 '' picture of Honora, which I concealed in my mouth. Preserving that, I yet think 
 " myself fortunate." 
 
 * Intrepid Portia. " Brutus\. Impatient of my absence, 
 
 " And grieved that young Octavius with Mark Antony 
 
 " Had made themselves so strong, she grew distracted, 
 
 " And, her Attendants absent, swallow'd fire. 
 
 " Cassius^\ And dy'd so? 
 
 " Brutus.} Even so ! " 
 See Shakespear's Play of Julius Caesar, Act IV., Scene IV.
 
 146 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 At length the Sun rose jocund, to adorn 
 
 With all his splendour the enfranchis'd Morn. 
 
 Again the Hero joins the ardent Train 
 
 That pours its thousands on the tented plain ; 
 
 And shines distinguish'd in the long Array, 
 
 Bright as the silver Star that leads the Day ! 
 
 His modest temperance, his wakeful heed, 
 
 His silent diligence, his ardent speed, 
 
 Each Warrior-duty to the Veteran taught, 
 
 Shaming the vain Experience Time had brought. 
 
 Dependence scarcely feels his gentle sway, 
 
 He shares each want, and smiles each grief away ; 
 
 And to the virtues of a noble Heart, 
 
 Unites the talents of inventive Art. 
 
 Thus from his swift and faithful pencil flow 
 
 The Lines, the Camp, the Fortress of the Foe ; 
 
 Serene to counteract each deep design, 
 
 Points the dark Ambush, and the springing Mine ; 
 
 Till, as a breathing Incense, ANDRE'S name 
 
 Pervades the Host, and swells the loud acclaim. 
 
 The CHIEF no virtue views with cold regard, 
 
 Skill'd to discern, and generous to reward ; 
 
 Each tow'ring hope his honour'd smiles impart, 
 
 As near his Person, and more near his Heart 
 
 The graceful Youth he draws, and round his brow 
 
 Bids Rank and Pow'r their mingled brilliance throw. 
 
 Oh ! hast thou seen a blooming Morn of May 
 In crystal beauty shed the modest ray, 
 And with its balmy dews' refreshing show'r 
 Swell the young grain, and ope the purple flow'r,
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE. ! 4 7 
 
 In bright'ning lustre reach its radiant Noon, 
 Rob'd in the gayest mantle of the Sun ? 
 Then 'mid the splendours of its azure skies, 
 Oh ! hast thou seen the cruel Storm arise, 
 In sable horror shroud each dazzling charm, 
 And dash their glories back with icy arm ? 
 
 Thus lovvr'd the deathful cloud amid the blaze 
 
 Of ANDRE'S rising hopes, and quench'd their rays ! 
 
 Ah, fatal Embassy ! thy hazards dire 
 
 His kindling Soul with ev'ry ardour fire ; 
 
 Great CLINTON gives it to the courage prov'd, 
 
 And the known wisdom of the Friend he lov'd. 
 
 As fair Euryalus, to meet his Fate, 
 With Nysus rushes from the Dardan gate, 
 Relentless Fate ! whose fury scorns to spare 
 The snowy breast, red lip, and shining hair, 
 So polish'd ANDRE launches on the waves, 
 Where * Hudson's tide its dreary confine laves. 
 With firm intrepid foot the Youth explores 
 Each dangerous pathway of the hostile shores ; 
 But on no Veteran-Chief his step attends, 
 As silent round the gloomy Wood he wends ; 
 Alone he meets the brave repentant Foe, 
 Sustains his late resolve, receives his vow, 
 With ardent skill directs the doubtful course, 
 Seals the firm bond, and ratifies its force. 
 'Tis thus, AMERICA, thy Generals fly, 
 And wave new banners in their native sky ! 
 
 * Hudson's tide. Major Andre came up the Hudson River to meet General 
 Arnold. On his return by Land he fell into the hands of the Enemy. 
 11
 
 j.8 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Sick of the mischiefs artful GALLIA pours, 
 In friendly semblance on thy ravag'd shores. 
 Unnatural compact ! shall a Race of Slaves 
 Sustain the ponderous standard Freedom waves ? 
 No ! while their feign'd Protection spreads the toils, 
 The Vultures hover o'er the destin'd spoils ! 
 How fade Provincial-glories, while ye run 
 To court far deeper bondage than ye shun ! 
 Is this the generous active rising Flame, 
 That boasted Liberty's immortal name, 
 Blaz'd for its rights infring'd, its trophies torn, 
 And taught the Wife the dire mistake to mourn, 
 When haughty BRITAIN, in a luckless hour, 
 With rage inebriate, and the lust of pow'r, 
 To fruitless conquest, and to countless graves, 
 Led her gay Legions o'er the Western waves ? 
 The Friend of Discord, cow'ring at the prow, 
 Sat darkly smiling at th' impending woe ! 
 
 Long did my Soul the wretched strife survey, 
 And wept the horrors of the deathful day ; 
 Thro' rolling Years saw undecisive War 
 Drag bleeding Wisdom at his iron Car ; 
 Exhaust my Country's treasure, pour her gore 
 In fruitless conflict on the distant shore ; 
 Saw the firm CONGRESS all her might oppose, 
 And while I mourn'd her fate, rever'd her Foes. 
 
 But when, repentant of her prouder aim, 
 She gently waives the long-disputed claim ; 
 Extends the Charter with your Rights restor'd, 
 And hides in olive-wreaths the blood-stain'd sword,
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE. 149 
 
 Then to reject her peaceful wreaths, and throw 
 Your Country's Freedom to our mutual Foe ! 
 Infatuate Land ! from that detested day 
 Distracted Councils, and the thirst of Sway, 
 Rapacious Avarice, Superstition vile, 
 And all the Frenchman dictates in his guile 
 Disgrace your CONGRESS ! Justice drops her scale ! 
 And radiant Liberty averts her sail ! 
 They fly indignant the polluted plain, 
 Where Truth is scorn'd, and Mercy pleads in vain. 
 That she does plead in vain, thy witness bear, 
 Accursed Hour ! thou darkest of the Year ! 
 That with Misfortune's deadliest venom fraught, 
 To Tappan's Wall the gallant ANDRE brought. 
 
 Oh WASHINGTON ! I thought thee great and good, 
 Nor knew thy Nero-thirst of guiltless blood ! 
 Severe to use the pow'r that Fortune gave, 
 Thou cool determin'd Murderer of the Brave ! 
 Lost to each fairer Virtue, that inspires 
 The genuine fervor of the patriot fires ! 
 And You, the base Abettors of the doom, 
 That sunk his blooming honors 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 implor'd 
 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 ! 
 Stopt with the * Felon-cord the rosy breath ! 
 And venom'd with disgrace the darts of Death ! 
 
 * Felon-cord. " As I suffer in the defence of my Country, I must consider this 
 " hour as the most glorious of my life. Remember that I die as becomes a British
 
 150 THE TWO SPIES, 
 
 Remorseless WASHINGTON ! the day shall come 
 
 Of deep repentance for this barb'rous doom ! 
 
 When injur'd ANDRE'S memory shall inspire 
 
 A kindling Army with resistless fire : 
 
 Each falchion sharpen that the Britons wield, 
 
 And lead their fiercest Lion to the field ! 
 
 Then, when each hope of thine shall set in night, 
 
 When dubious dread, and unavailing flight 
 
 Impel your Host, thy. guilt-upbraided Soul 
 
 Shall wish untouch'd the sacred Life you stole ! 
 
 And when thy Heart appall'd and vanquish'd Pride 
 
 Shall vainly ask the mercy they deny'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 melting pity spares 
 The lifeless Hector to his Father's prayers, 
 Fierce as he was ; 'tis Cowards only know 
 Persisting vengeance o'er a. fallen Foe. 
 
 But no intreaty wakes the soft remorse, 
 Oh, murder'd ANDRE ! for thy sacred Corse ; 
 Vain were an army's, vain its Leader's sighs ! 
 Damp in the Earth on Hudson's shore it lies ! 
 
 " Officer, while the manner of my death must reflect disgrace on your Commander." 
 See Major Andre's last words, inserted in the General Evening Post, for Tuesday, 
 November the 14, 1780.
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE. i 
 
 Unshrouded welters in the wintry 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 sooth'd 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 Eve's ambiguous gloom, 
 Imperial Honour, bending o'er thy tomb, 
 With 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 f funeral scarf entwine, 
 And in their heart's deep core thy worth enshrine, 
 While my weak Muse, in fond attempt and vain, 
 But feebly pours a perishable strain, 
 Oh ! ye distinguish'd Few ! whose glowing lays 
 Bright Phcebus kindles with his purest rays, 
 Snatch from its radiant source the living fire, 
 And light with ^ Vestal flame your ANDRE'S HALLOW'D 
 PYRE. 
 
 * Tappan. The place where Major Andre was executed. 
 
 f Funeral scarf. Our whole Army in America went into mourning for Major 
 Andre, a distinguish'd tribute to his merit. 
 
 \ Vestal flame. The Vestal fire was kept perpetually burning, and originally 
 kindled from the rays of the Sun.
 
 LETTERS 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR OF THE FOREGOING POEM, BY MAJOR 
 ANDRE, WHEN HE WAS A YOUTH OF EIGHTEEN. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 CLAPTON, October j, 1769. 
 
 FROM their agreeable excursion to Shrewsbury, my dear- 
 est friends are by this time returned to their thrice-beloved 
 Lichfield. Once again have they beheld those fortunate 
 spires, the constant witnesses of all their pains and pleasures. 
 I can well conceive the emotions of joy which their first ap- 
 pearance, from the neighboring 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 reverence for 
 them. Never shall I forget the joy that danced in Honora's 
 eyes, when she first showed them to me from Need wood 
 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 them 
 is carried farther even than yours and Honora's, for every 
 object that has a pyramidal form recalls them to my recol- 
 lection, with a sensation that brings the tear of pleasure into 
 my eyes.
 
 LETTERS. !53 
 
 How happy must you have been at Shrewsbury ! only 
 that you tell me, alas ! that dear Honora was not so well as 
 you wished during your stay there. I always hope the best. 
 My impatient spirit rejects every obtruding idea which I 
 have not fortitude to support. Dr. 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 cher Jean* of .those precious pages 
 with which, he flatters himself, she would otherwise have 
 indulged him. So your happiness at Shrewsbury scorned 
 to be indebted to public amusements. Five virgins, united 
 in the soft bonds of friendship ! how I should have liked 
 to have made the sixth ! But you surprise me by such an 
 absolute exclusion of the beaux. I certainly thought that 
 when five wise virgins were watching at midnight, it must 
 have been in expectation of the bridegroom's coming. We 
 are at this instant five virgins, writing round the same table 
 my three sisters, Mr. Ewer, and myself. I beg no reflec- 
 tions injurious to the honor of poor cher Jean. My mother is 
 gone to pay a visit, and has left us in possession of the old 
 coach ; but as for nags, we can boast only of two long-tails, 
 and my sisters say they are sorry cattle, being no other 
 than my friend Ewer and myself, who, to say the truth, have 
 enormous pig-tails. 
 
 My dear Boissier is come to town ; he has brought a lit- 
 tle 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 partake of them. 
 
 We are jealous of your correspondents, who are so nu- 
 merous. Yet, write to the Andres often, my dear Julia, for 
 
 * A name of kindness, by which Mr. Andre was often called by his mother and 
 sisters, and generally adopted by the persons mentioned in these letters.
 
 154 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 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 great- 
 est joy. Write, therefore, though it were only to give us 
 the comfort of having a piece of paper which has recently 
 passed through your hands ; Honora will put in a little 
 postscript, were it only to tell me that she is my very sincere 
 friend, who will neither give me love nor comfort very 
 short, indeed, Honora, was thy last postscript ! But I am 
 too presumptuous ; I will not scratch out, but I ////say. 
 From the little there was I received more joy than I de- 
 serve. This cJicr Jean is an impertinent fellow, but he will 
 grow discreet in time. You must consider him as a poor 
 novice of eighteen, who, for all the sins he may commit, is 
 sufficiently punished in the single evil of being one hundred 
 and twenty 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. / 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 in the richest autumnal coloring. In return, I must tell 
 you that my zephyrs are wafted through cracks in the wain- 
 scot; for murmuring streams I have dirty kennels; for bleat- 
 ing flocks, grunting pigs ; and squalling cats for birds that in- 
 cessantly 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 recall to 
 your memory the fat knight's love-letters to Mrs. Ford and 
 Mrs. Page. 
 
 Julia, perhaps thou fanciest I am merry alas ! But I do 
 not wish to make you as doleful as myself ; and besides, 
 when I would express the tender feelings of my soul, I have
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 155 
 
 no language which does them justice ; if I had, I should re- 
 gret that you could not have it fresher, and that whatever 
 one communicates by letter must go such a roundabout way 
 before it reaches one's correspondent from the writer's 
 heart, through his head, arm, hand, pen, ink, paper, over 
 many a weary hill and dale, to the eye, head, and heart of 
 the reader. I have often regretted our not possessing a 
 sort of faculty which should enable our sensations, remarks, 
 etc., to arise from their source in a sort of exaltations, and 
 fall upon our paper in words and phrases properly adapted 
 to express them, without 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 style ! 
 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 regard ; while the lat- 
 ter, by their flowers of rhetoric, had made us believe a thou- 
 sand times more than they ever felt but this is whimsical 
 moralizing. 
 
 My sisters Penserosas were dispersed on their arrival 
 in town, 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 reason, 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 still handsomer since we left her. Our sisters, 
 Mary and Anne, knowing your partiality to beauty, are 
 afraid that, when they 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 ma-
 
 156 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 terials so dear to the ingenuous taste of Julia and her 
 Honora. 
 
 I sympathize in your resentment against the canonical 
 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 mis- 
 chief ; their verdant arms will again extend and invite you 
 to their shelter. 
 
 The evenings grow long. I hope your conversation 
 round the fire will sometimes fall on the Andres ; it will 
 be a great comfort that they are remembered. We chink 
 our glasses to your healths at every meal. " Here's to our 
 Lichfieldian friends," says Nanny. " Oh-h ! " says Mary. 
 " With all my soul, say I." "Allans ! " 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 affectionate 
 respects. My male friend at Lichfield will join in your con- 
 versation on the Andr6s. Among the numerous good quali- 
 ties he is possessed of, he certainly has gratitude, and then 
 he can not 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 everything which 
 surrounds you ; therefore I beg you would give my amities 
 to the whole town. Persuade Honora to forgive the length 
 and ardor of the enclosed, and believe me truly, 
 
 Your affectionate and faithful friend, 
 
 J. ANDRE. 
 
 * The trees in the cathedral-walk in Lichfield.
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 157 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 LONDON, October 19, 1769. - 
 
 FROM the midst of books, papers, bills, and other imple- 
 ments of gain, let me lift up my drowsy head awhile to con- 
 verse with dear Julia. And first, as I know she has a fervent 
 wish to see me a quill-driver, I must tell her that I begin, as 
 people are wont to do, to look upon my future profession 
 with great partiality. I no longer see it in so disadvan- 
 tageous a light. Instead of figuring a merchant as a middle- 
 aged man, with a bob-wig, a rough beard, in snuff-colored 
 clothes, grasping a guinea in his red hand, I conceive a come- 
 ly young man, with a tolerable pig-tail, wielding a pen with 
 all the noble fierceness of the Duke of Marlborough brandish- 
 ing a truncheon upon a sign-post, surrounded with types 
 and emblems, and canopied with cornucopias that disem- 
 bogue their stores upon his head ; Mercuries reclined upon 
 bales of goods ; Genii playing with pens, ink, and paper ; 
 while in perspective, his gorgeous vessels, " launched on the 
 bosom of the silver Thames," are wafting to distant lands 
 the produce of this commercial nation. Thus all the mer- 
 cantile glories crowd on my fancy, emblazoned in the most 
 refulgent coloring of an ardent imagination. Borne on her 
 soaring pinions, I wing my flight to the time when Heaven 
 shall have crowned my labors with success and opulence. I 
 see sumptuous palaces rising to receive me. I see orphans, 
 and widows, and painters, and fiddlers, and poets, and build- 
 ers, protected and encouraged ; and when the fabric is pretty 
 nearly finished by my shattered pericranium, I cast my eyes 
 around and find John Andre by a small coal-fire, in a gloomy 
 compting-house in Warnford Court, nothing so little as what 
 he has been making himself, and in all probability never to
 
 158 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 be much more than he is at present. But oh, my dear Ho- 
 nora ! it is for thy sake 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 your dress- 
 ing-room fireplace. 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 together 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 friend- 
 ship of such amiable minds as Julia's and her Honora's. 
 Since I can not be there in reality, pray imagine me with 
 you ; admit me to your conversaziones ; 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 Dutch tiles, which are infinitely better ; 
 so let Moses, or Aaron, or Balaam's ass, be my represent- 
 ative. 
 
 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 quantity. Signora Cyn- 
 thia is in clouded majesty. Silvered with her beams, I am 
 about to jog to Clapton upon my own stumps ; musing as I 
 homeward plod my way ah ! need I name the subject of 
 my contemplations ?
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 159 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 I had a sweet walk home last night, and found the Clap- 
 tonians, 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 enchant the eyes, expand 
 
 the heart, and 
 
 " Chace all sorrow but despair." 
 
 In the midst of such a scene no lesser grief can prevent our 
 sympathy with Nature. A calmness, a benevolent dispo- 
 sition seizes us with sweet, insinuating power. The very 
 brute creation seems sensible of these beauties ; there is a 
 species of mild cheerfulness in the face of a lamb which I 
 have but indifferently expressed in a corner of my paper, 
 and a demure, contented look in an ox, which, in the fear of 
 expressing still worse, I leave unattempted. 
 
 Business calls me away. I must dispatch my letter. Yet 
 what does it contain ? no matter. You like anything better 
 than news. Indeed, you never told me so ; but I have an 
 intuitive knowledge upon the subject, from the sympathy 
 which I have constantly perceived in the taste of Julia and 
 cher Jean. What is it to you or me 
 
 If here in the city we have nothing but riot, 
 If the Spital-field weavers can't be kept quiet, 
 If the weather is fine, or the streets should be dirty, 
 Or if Mr. Dick Wilson died aged of thirty ? 
 
 But if I was to hearken to the versifying grumbling I feel 
 within me, I should fill my paper and not have room left to
 
 160 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 entreat that you would plead my cause to Honora more elo- 
 quently than the enclosed letter has the power of doing. 
 Apropos of verses, you desire me to recollect my random 
 description of the engaging appearance of the charming 
 Mrs. - . Here it is, at your service : 
 
 Then rustling and bustling the lady comes down, 
 With a flaming red face, and a broad yellow gown, 
 And a hobbling out-of-breath gait, and a frown. 
 
 This little French cousin of ours, Delarise, was my sister 
 Mary's playfellow at Paris. His sprightliness 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 Lich- 
 .field ! 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 meaning, *" 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 am, and there is none beside me ! " Who says she is 
 vain ? Julia will not say so, nor yet Honora, and least of all 
 their devoted J. ANDRE. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 CLAPTON, November i, 1769. 
 
 MY ears still ring with the sounds of " O Jack ! O Jack ! 
 How do the dear Lichfieldians ? What do they say ? What 
 
 * Field of blood. Here is a small mistake. Lichfield is not the field of blood, 
 but "the field of dead bodies," alluding to the battle fought between the Romans 
 and the British Christians in the Diocletian persecution, when the latter were mas- 
 sacred. Three slain kings, with their burying-place, now Barrowcop Hill, and the 
 cathedral in miniature, form the city arms. Lich is still a word in use. The 
 churchyard gates, through which funerals pass, are often called Lich-gates, vul- 
 garly Light-gates.
 
 LETTERS. !6i 
 
 are they about ? What did you do while you were with 
 them ? " Have patience, said I, good people ! and began my 
 story, which they devoured with as, much joyful avidity as 
 Adam did Gabriel's tidings of heaven. My mother and sis- 
 ters are all very well, and delighted with their little French- 
 man, who is a very agreeable lad. Surely you applaud the 
 fortitude with which I left you ! Did I not come off with 
 flying colors ? It was a great effort, for, alas ! this recreant 
 heart did not second the smiling courage of the countenance ; 
 nor is it yet as it ought to be, from the hopes that it may 
 reasonably entertain of seeing you all again e'er the winter's 
 dreary hours are past. Julia, my dear Julia, gild them with 
 tidings of our beloved Honora ! Oh, that you may be able 
 to tell me that she regains her health, and her charming 
 vivacity ! Your sympathizing heart partakes all the joys 
 and pains of your friends. Never can I forget its kind 
 offices, which were of such moment to my peace ! Mine is 
 formed for friendship, and I am blessed in being able to place 
 so well the purest passion of an ingenuous mind ! How am 
 I honored in Mr. and Mrs. Seward's attachment to me ! 
 Charming were the anticipations which beguiled the long 
 tracts of hill, and dale, and plain that divide London from 
 Lichfield ! With what delight my eager eyes drank their 
 first view of the dear spires ! What rapture did I not feel 
 on entering your gates ! in flying up the hall steps ! in rush- 
 ing into the dining-room ! in meeting the gladdened eyes of 
 dear Julia and her enchanting friend ! That instant con- 
 vinced me of the truth of Rousseau's observation, that " there 
 are moments worth ages." Shall not those moments return ? 
 Ah, Julia ! the cold hand of absence is heavy upon the heart 
 of your poor cher Jean. He is forced to hammer into it per- 
 petually every consoling argument that the magic wand of
 
 1 62 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 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 bask in the 
 light of my Honora's eyes ! Sustain me, Hope ! nothing on 
 my part shall be wanting which may induce thee to fulfill 
 thy blossoming promises. 
 
 The happy social circle Julia, Honora, Miss S n, Miss 
 
 B n, her brother, Mr. S e, Mr. R n, etc., etc. 
 
 are now, perhaps, enlivening your dressing-room, the dear 
 blue region, as Honora 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 ob- 
 jects which surround Honora and her Julia ; that have be- 
 held their graces and virtues expand and ripen my dear 
 Honora's from their infant bud. 
 
 The sleepy Claptonian train are gone to bed, somewhat 
 wearied with their excursion to Enfield, whither they have 
 this day carried their favorite little Frenchman, so great a 
 favorite ; the parting was quite tragical. I walked hither 
 from town, as usual, to-night ; no hour of the twenty-four is 
 so precious to me as that devoted to this solitary walk. O 
 my friend ! I am far from possessing the patient frame of 
 mind which I so continually invoke ! Why is Lichfield an 
 hundred and twenty miles from 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 for- 
 bid to her declining health ; I will content myself, as usual.
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 163 
 
 with a postscript from her in your epistle. 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 fel- 
 low-sufferers in cold and hunger, joined interests, ordered 
 four horses, and stuffed three in a chaise. It is not to you 
 I need not apologize for talking in rapture of an higgler 
 whom we met on our road. His cart had passed us, and 
 was at a considerable distance, when, looking back, he per- 
 ceived that our chaise had stopped, and that the driver 
 seemed mending 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 if we wanted any- 
 thing ; that he had plenty of nails, ropes, etc., 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 by forcing upon him a little pecuniary tribute. 
 My benevolence will be the warmer, while I live, for the 
 treasured remembrance of this higgler's countenance. 
 
 I know you interest yourself in my destiny. I have now 
 completely subdued my aversion to the profession of a mer- 
 chant, and hope in time to acquire an inclination for it ; yet 
 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 Hbnora. When an impertinent consciousness 
 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 
 12
 
 1 64 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 the sight of that dear talisman so inspirits my industry that 
 no toil appears oppressive. 
 
 The poetic talk you set me in is a sad method. My head 
 and heart are too full of other matters to be engrossed by a 
 draggle-tailed 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 as to give the enclosed to Ho- 
 nora ; it will speak to her. And do you say everything that 
 is kind for me to every other distinguished friend of the 
 dressing-room circle ; encourage them in their obliging de- 
 sire of scribbling in your letters, but don't let them take 
 Honora's corner of the sheet. 
 
 Adieu ! May you all possess that cheerfulness denied to 
 your cJicr Jean. I fear it hurts my mother to see my musing 
 moods, but I can neither help nor overcome them. The 
 near hopes of another excursion to Lichfield could alone 
 disperse every gloomy vapor of my imagination. Again, 
 
 and yet again, adieu ! 
 
 J. ANDRK.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Adams, Alice, Male's affianced, 21 (note). 
 
 Alexander, William, Lord Stirling, 71 
 (note). 
 
 American army on Manhattan Island, 
 condition of, n ; on Harlem Heights 
 perils menacing the, 12. 
 
 American cause, gloomy prospects for 
 the, 79. 
 
 Anderson, the fictitious name of Major 
 Andre, 65. 
 
 Andre, John, birth, parentage, educa- 
 tion, and family of, 37 ; at Lichfield 
 with Anna Seward, 38 ; personal ap- 
 pearance of betrothed to Honora 
 Sneyd paints a miniature portrait of 
 her correspondence of, with Anna 
 Seward, 40, 41 ; enters the British 
 army alleged presages of his death, 
 4 2 > 43 ; g oe s to America his obser- 
 vations there, 43, 44 ; made a prisoner, 
 exchanged, and promoted by General 
 Howe, 44, 45 ; social position of, in 
 Philadelphia, 45, 46 ; writes " Yankee 
 Doodle's Expedition to Rhode Isl- 
 and " aide-de-camp to General Clin- 
 ton, 6 1 ; genius of, displayed goes 
 with Clinton up the Hudson River, 
 62 ; letters of, to Mrs. Benedict Ar- 
 nold, 63 ; secret correspondence of, 
 with General Arnold, 65 ; a spy at 
 Charleston made adjutant-general of 
 
 the British forces in America, 66 ; 
 writes " The Cow-Chase," 68 ; at a 
 dinner-party given by Colonel Will- 
 iams sadness of, 80 ; sings a cam- 
 paign song important mission of, 81 ; 
 meets Arnold near Haverstraw goes 
 to Smith's house bargain with Ar- 
 nold, 83, 84 ; attempts to return to 
 New York through the American 
 lines disguise of, 84 ; conceals papers 
 received from Arnold in his boots 
 journey of, toward New York, 85 ; 
 arrest of, 86 ; suspected of being a 
 spy. 87, 88 ; tries to bribe his captors 
 taken to an American post, 88 ; 
 confession of, 91 ; letter of, to Wash- 
 ington, 91-93 ; sent to West Point, 
 97 ; sent to Tappaan in charge of Ma- 
 jor Tallmadge, 97, 98 ; sympathy for, 
 
 99, 105, 106 ; effect of the news of 
 capture of, 99 ; trial and sentence of, 
 
 100, 101 ; exertions to save the life of, 
 101 ; letter of, to Washington, en the 
 mode of his death, 102 ; letters of, to 
 friends drawings of, 103 (note) ; exe- 
 cution of, 103-105 ; monument in hon- 
 or of, in Westminster Abbey, 106 ; re- 
 mains of, removed to the abbey, 106 
 (note) ; place of execution of, marked 
 by memorial-stones, 108, 109. 
 
 Andre Brook, the, 117. 
 Arnold, Benedict, life of, in Philadelphia 
 charges against, 63 ; urges an inves-
 
 i66 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 tigation, 64 ; treasonable correspond- 
 ence of, 64, 65 ; secret correspondence 
 of, with Major Andrea-disguised hand- 
 writing of, 65 ; in command at West 
 Point, 78 ; tries to meet Andre in dis- 
 guise, 79 ; plans of, for consummating 
 treason, 83, 84 ; meets Andre near 
 Haverstraw, 83 ; takes Andre to 
 Smith's house finishes his bargain 
 to betray his country gives Andre 
 important papers, 84 ; receives notice 
 of the arrest of Andre, 93 ; hurried in- 
 terview with his wife escapes to the 
 Vulture patriotism of his barge crew, 
 94 ; attempts to arrest, 96 ; impudent 
 letter of, to Washington, 101 (note). 
 
 Arnold. Mrs., distress of, 94 ; Washing- 
 ton's kindness to, c;6. 
 
 Austin, Henry, designer of the Hale 
 Monument at Coventry, 27. 
 
 B 
 
 Babcock, J. S., poetic tribute of, to the 
 
 memory of Nathan Hale, 29. 
 Boothby, Sir Richard, a literary friend 
 
 of Anna Seward, 38. 
 Boudinot, Elias, concerning the arrest 
 
 and execution of Andre, 99. 
 British army near New York, condition 
 
 of the, II. 
 Buchanan, James, assists in the removal 
 
 of Andre's remains to England, 108. 
 
 Caldwell, Rev. James, 77 (note). 
 Captors of Andre", 85 ; rewarded, 89. 
 Carleton, Governor of Canada, 43. 
 Cathcart, Captain, and Miss Eliot, 51 
 
 (note). 
 " Cedars, The," and the Widow Chiches- 
 
 ter, 1 6. 
 Chichester, the Widow, and the Tories, 
 
 16. 
 Clinton, Sir Henry, 43 ; succeeds Howe, 
 
 46 ; in command of the British army 
 flight of, across New Jersey fights at 
 Monmouth Court-House, 60 ; head- 
 quarters of, at New York, 61, 62, 83 ; 
 letter of, to Washington Andre's let- 
 ter to, 101. 
 Court of inquiry in the case of Andre, 
 
 100. 
 
 "Cow-Chase, The," a satire by Major 
 Andre, 67-78. 
 
 Cunningham, William, character of, 24 
 (note), 25. 
 
 D 
 
 Darwin, Erasmus, 38. 
 
 De Lancey, Oliver, r.ssists Andre in art- 
 work marries Miss Franks 56 (note). 
 
 Demorest, Rev. John, assists at the dis- 
 interment of the remains of Major 
 Andr silver cup sent to, by Andre"s 
 sisters, 108. 
 
 Depew, Chauncey M., oration by, at 
 Tarrytown, 121. 
 
 D'Estaing, with French fleet, goes to 
 Rhode Island, 61. 
 
 Dobb's Ferry, 84 ; conference at, 101. 
 
 Dream, a singular, concerning Andre, 42. 
 
 Edgeworth, Richard Lovell, marries 
 
 Honora Sneyd, 38, 41. 
 Eliot, Miss, and Captain Cathcart, 51. 
 
 Field, Cyrus W., erects a memorial-stone 
 at the place of Andre's execution, 109- 
 115 ; proposes to erect a monument in 
 memory of Nathan Hale at his own 
 expense, 113, 114; letter of, on the 
 subject, to the New York Historical 
 Society, 114 ; contribution of, to the 
 Hale monument at Coventry, 114; 
 generous designs of, for the benefit of 
 the Rockland County Historical and 
 Forestry Society, 118.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 167 
 
 Finch, Francis M., poem on Nathan 
 Hale by, 29. 
 
 Fort Hale, 28. 
 
 G 
 
 Gibbs, George, epitaph for Hale's tomb, 
 written by, 84. 
 
 Grey, General, marauding expedition of, 
 to New Bedford, 61. 
 
 Greene, General Nathanael, in command 
 at Tappaan, proclaims Arnold's trea- 
 son, 98. 
 
 " Gustavus," the fictitious name of Ar- 
 nold, 61. 
 
 H 
 
 Hale and Andre, character and motives 
 of, iv. 
 
 Hale, Edward Everett, 4. 
 
 Hale, Enoch, 4. 
 
 Hale, Nathan, childhood and youth of 
 personal appearance and vigor of en- 
 ters Yale College, 4 ; Dr. E. Munson's 
 recollections of, 5 ; letter of, to Dr. 
 Munson, 6 (note) ; a school-teacher at 
 East Haddam and New London, 7 ; 
 patriotism of, aroused speech of, 8 ; 
 a volunteer soldier at the siege of Bos- 
 ton patriotism displayed commis- 
 sioned captain daring feat of, at New 
 York, 9 ; generosity of in the battle 
 of Long Island and the retreat ill- 
 ness of, 10 ; volunteers for the secret 
 service, and resists the dissuasions of 
 his friends ideas of, concerning secret 
 service, 14, 15 ; receives instructions 
 from Washington departure of, on 
 secret service, 15 ; goes to Long Island 
 and enters the British camps in dis- 
 guise methods of, as a spy, 16 ; ar- 
 rest of, 17 ; character of, discovered, 
 1 8 ; at General Howe's headquarters 
 at the Beekman mansion confined in 
 a green-house, 19 ; interview of, with 
 General Howe, 20 ; treatment of, by 
 
 Cunningham, 21, 22 ; last words of, 
 23 ; place of execution of, 23 (note) ; 
 execution of sympathy for neglect 
 of memory of, 24 ; memorials of, 25 ; 
 monument erected in memory of, 27, 
 28 ; poem written concerning, 27-31 ; 
 and Andre compared, 31 ; proposed 
 monument in memory of, at New York 
 statue of, contemplated, 33 ; epitaph 
 for tomb of, 34 ; monument to, pro- 
 posed, in, 113, 114. 
 
 Hale, Richard and Elizabeth, parents of 
 Nathan Hale, 3. 
 
 Hayley, Thomas, an English poet, 38. 
 
 Hamilton, Alexander, 73, 93, 96, 100, 102. 
 
 Harrison, Richard, 73 (note). 
 
 Hempstead, Stephen, 15. 
 
 Hillhouse, James, a classmate with 
 Hale, 7. 
 
 Howe, General William, succeeded by 
 Sir Henry Clinton, 46 ; fete given in 
 honor of, 46-59 ; estimate of the char- 
 acter of, 59. 
 
 Hull, Lieutenant William, and Nathan 
 Hale, 14. 
 
 Huntington, Rev. Dr., fits Hale for col- 
 lege, 4. 
 
 Husted, General James, marshal at the 
 dedication of the monument at Tarry- 
 town, 121. 
 
 Husted, Dr. Sargent C., author of a 
 " Memorial Souvenir," 121. 
 
 Irvines, the two, 71 (note). 
 
 J 
 Jameson, Lieutenaut-Colonel, and Major 
 
 Andre, 90. 
 Johnson, Jeremiah, concerning the place 
 
 of Hale's execution, 23. 
 
 K 
 
 Knowlton, Lieutenant-Colonel, and Na- 
 than Hale, 13 ; death of, 16 (note).
 
 1 68 
 
 THE TWO SPIES. 
 
 Lafayette with Washington at West 
 Point, 93. 
 
 Laurance, John, Judge Advocate-Gen- 
 eral, 100. 
 
 Lawrence, William, 21 (note). 
 
 Lee, Charles, and Colonel Hamilton, 73 
 (note). 
 
 Lee, Henry (" Legion Harry "), 67. 
 
 Lee, James, marks the spot where Andre 
 was executed, 108, no ; statue of 
 Washington in New York, 108 (note). 
 
 Lionian Society of Yale College, 29. 
 
 Livingston, Susannah, 77 (note). 
 
 If 
 
 Memorial-stone near Tappaan, unveil- 
 ing of the, 113 ; description of, and 
 inscription upon the, 115 ; what the 
 stone commemorates, 116, 117 ; at- 
 tempts to destroy the, 117-119. 
 
 Military execution, method of, 23 (note). 
 
 Mischianza, the, description of, by Ma- 
 jor Andre, 46-58 ; criticism of the, 59 ; 
 the, deplored, 60 
 
 Monmouth, battle of, 60. 
 
 Munson, Dr. Eneas, relates his personal 
 recollections of Nathan Hale, 5. 
 
 Monody on Major Andre", 135. 
 
 Murray, Robert, Washington at house 
 of, 12. 
 
 N 
 
 Neutral ground, the, and its inhabit- 
 ants, 85. 
 
 New York City, great conflagration at, 20. 
 
 O 
 
 O'Donovan, sculptor, author of a statue 
 at Tarrytown, 121. 
 
 Paulding, John, a captor of Andre, 85-89. 
 Philadelphia, British army in, and its de- 
 moralization, 45 ; flight of British from 
 
 American troops and Congress en- 
 ter, 60. 
 
 R 
 
 Raymond, Henry J., oration of, at Tar- 
 rytown, 31-33. 
 
 Reed, General Joseph, and General Ar- 
 nold, 63. 
 
 Ripley, Eleazar, 21 (note). 
 
 Robertson, General, and General Greene 
 at Dobb's Ferry bears a letter from 
 Arnold to Washington, 101. 
 
 Robinson, Beverly, letter of, 64 ; and 
 Andre and Arnold, 79 ; with Andre on 
 the Vulture, 81 ; letter of, to Wash- 
 ington, 95. 
 
 S 
 
 Samson, Ezra, 7. 
 
 Seward, Anna, literary friends of, 38 ; 
 biographical sketch of, 125 ; Major 
 Andre's letters to, 152. 
 
 Seward, Rev. Thomas, father of Anna 
 Seward, 38. 
 
 Smith, J. H., and Arnold and Andre, 
 82-84. 
 
 Sneyd, Honora, betrothed to Andre, 40 ; 
 marries Richard Lovell Edgeworth, 
 and death of, 41. 
 
 Sparks, Dr., on Andre, 64. 
 
 Spies, character of, defined, iii. 
 
 Sprague, Rev. W. B., 68. 
 
 Stanley, Rev. Arthur Penrhyn, Dean of 
 Westminster, visits the place of An- 
 dre's execution, no ; writes an in- 
 scription for a memorial-stone placed 
 on the spot letter to Mr. Whittemore 
 concerning the inscription, 112 ; in- 
 scription by, 115. 
 
 Stuart's biography of Hale, 28. 
 
 Tallmadge, Benjamin, and Nathan Hale, 
 at college, 7 ; pronounces Andre a 
 spy, 90 ; custodian of and frank con- 
 versation with Andre", 98.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 169 
 
 Tappaan, allusion to, in " Ttie ^Cow- 
 Chase," 69 ; Andre taken to, 99 ; 
 Andre executed near, 103 ; memorial- 
 stone near, erected by Mr. Field, 113 ; 
 indignation meeting at, 119. 
 
 Tarrytown, monument at, 119-121. 
 
 Thacher, Dr., on Andre's execution, 105, 
 1 06. 
 
 Tilclen, Samuel J., presides at the dedi- 
 cation of a monument at Tarrytown, 
 121. 
 
 U 
 
 Union Grammar-School at New London 
 taught by Hale, 7. 
 
 V 
 Van Wart, Isaac, a captor of Andre, 85- 
 
 87. 
 Vulture, the, sloop-of-war, bears Andr 
 
 up the Hudson River, 8r. 
 
 W 
 
 Washington asks and receives instruc- 
 tions from Congress, n, 12 ; at Mur- 
 ray's house, 12 ; instructions of, for 
 obtaining information, 12 ; calls a 
 council of war desires a trustworthy 
 man for secret service, 13 ; in con- 
 ference with French officers, 79 ; at 
 West Point and Arnold's quarters 
 discovers Arnold's treason kindness 
 to Mrs. Arnold, 96, 97. 
 
 Watson, J. F., and relics of the Mis- 
 chianza, 48 (note). 
 
 Wayne, General Anthony, expedition 
 of, 67. 
 
 Webb, Colonel Charles, 9. 
 
 West Point, surrender of, contemplated, 
 67 ; and arranged for, 79, 80. 
 
 Wharton, Thomas, house of, the scene 
 of the Mischianza, 46. 
 
 Whittemore, Henry, and the Field me- 
 morial-stone at Tappaan, 111-113. 
 
 Willard, Solomon, architect of the Bun- 
 ker Hill Monument, 27. 
 
 Williams, David, a captor of Andre, 85. 
 
 Williams, Colonel, gives a dinner-party 
 to Sir Henry Clinton, 80. 
 
 Windt, John de, 99 (note). 
 
 Wood, E. S., sculptor, 34 (note). 
 
 Wright, Ansel, Hale's trusty servant, 15. 
 
 " Yankee Doodle's Expedition to Rhode 
 
 Island," by Andre, 61. 
 Yerks, John, a captor of Andrd, 85. 
 York, Duke of, causes the remains of 
 
 Andr to be removed to England, 106 
 
 (note) ; sends a snuff-box to Rev. J. 
 
 Demorest, 108. 
 
 MONODY ON MAJOR ANDRE, 135. 
 ANDRE'S LETTERS TO Miss SEWARD, 
 
 152. 
 
 THE END.
 
 
 14
 
 University of California Library 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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 NOV 2 9 1996 
 
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