"How many would like to take another trip up or down the river to-morrow?" asked Captain Raymond, as they sat together on the front porch after leaving the tea table.
"Every one of us, I presume, captain," said Grandma Elsie, with a smiling glance from one to another of the eager, interested faces about them.
"Oh, yes; yes, indeed, we would!" exclaimed several voices, Mrs. Leland adding, "We could hardly contrive a more delightful way of spending the time; there are a number of historic spots which would be interesting ones to visit."
"Tarrytown and the other places connected with Arnold's treachery," suggested Violet.
"Fishkill, too, is a historically interesting place," said her mother.
"West Point also," remarked Lucilla. "Papa took Max and me there once, but I should not at all object to going again."
"I think we can visit all the places mentioned within the next few days," said her father; "and we need not decide until to-morrow morning which we will take first."
"In the meantime we may talk the matter over, I suppose, and see what the majority is in favor of?" remarked Lucilla inquiringly.
"I think that would be a good plan," said her father. "Let everyone feel at perfect liberty to give his or her opinion."
"I think we could hardly find a more interesting locality to visit than Fishkill," said Grandma Elsie. "Though perhaps a longer sail may be thought desirable."
"We could supplement it with as long a one as we might find agreeable, by passing on either up or down the river, upon returning from the shore to the yacht," said the captain.
"Why, yes, so we could," said Violet; "and I think it would be very enjoyable."
"Papa, what is there to see at Fishkill? and what happened there in the Revolution?" asked Elsie Raymond.
"Quite a good deal," replied the captain. "Fishkill village lies five miles eastward from the landing of that name, on a plain near the foot of the mountains. Those high mountains sheltered it from invasion in the time of the Revolution, and it was chosen as a place of safe deposit for military stores. Also for the confinement of Tory prisoners and others captured by strategy or in skirmishes upon the neutral ground in West Chester. For a while too a portion of the Continental Army was encamped there; also the State Legislature met there at one time."
"Was the camp in the town, papa?" asked Grace.
"No; the barracks were about half a mile south of the village. The officers had their quarters at the house of a Mr. Wharton, and the barracks extended along the road from there to the foot of the mountains."
"Is not that vicinity the scene of many of the incidents given inCooper's 'Spy'?" asked Mr. Leland.
"Yes," replied the captain. "Enoch Crosby was a spy who did good service to his country in that capacity, and is supposed to have been the original of Cooper's spy—Harvey Birch. In the Wharton House, Crosby at one time went through a mock trial by the Committee of Safety, and was then confined in irons in the old Dutch church in the village. It was in the autumn of 1776 he began his career as spy in the service of his country by learning the plans and purposes of the Tories and revealing them to his Whig friends. In that neighborhood, at that time, secret foes were more to be feared than open enemies, but for a long time Crosby mingled with the Tories, learning their plans and purposes, without being suspected by them; they thought him as much an enemy to his and their country as they were themselves. Lossing tells us that while on one of his excursions he asked lodging for the night of a woman who proved to be a Tory; and that from her he learned that a company of Tories was being formed in the neighborhood with the intention of marching to New York and joining the British Army. He seemed delighted with the idea and most anxious to join the company. He gained the confidence of its captain and learned all his plans. It seems that after their talk they retired to bed; but Crosby did not immediately fall asleep. When all had grown quiet, so that there was reason to suppose everyone else was asleep, he rose and stealthily left the house, hastened to White Plains, where lived the Committee of Safety, and told them what he had just learned of the plans of the Tories. He also suggested that they should hold a meeting the following evening and send a band of Whigs to arrest the Tories and himself as though believing him to be one of them. That plan was carried out; they were all made prisoners, taken to Fishkill, and confined in the old stone church. I believe that church is one of the relics of the Revolution which yet remain.
"When the arrested men were taken there the Committee of Safety was already at the Wharton House prepared to try them. They held an examination of the prisoners after which they—Crosby among the rest—were sent back to their prison. Seemingly by accident, he was left alone with the Committee for a few minutes and the plan was concerted by which he might escape.
"At the northwest corner of the church was a window hidden by a willow. He reached the ground through that, got rid of his loose manacles, sprang out of his concealment, and rushed away past the sentinels with the speed of a deer. The sentinels fired a few shots after him, but missed him in the gloom; and he escaped unhurt to a swamp."
"Oh, that was good!" cried Eric. "Did he have any more such escapes, uncle?"
"Yes; twice after that he was made a prisoner with Tories, but managed to escape each time. At one time Colonel Van Cortlandt was stationed with a detachment of troops on the east side of the Hudson, to watch what was going on upon the Neutral Ground. One day Crosby was with a part of that detachment near Teller's Point and the mouth of the Croton River, when they saw a British sloop of war come sailing up the stream. It cast anchor in the channel opposite. Crosby and six others then went to the Point, where all but one concealed themselves in the bushes, while the other, dressed in infantry uniform, paraded the beach. Of course the officers on the sloop soon saw and determined to capture him. They promptly sent a boat with eleven men to take him. But as the British landed the American ran. They pursued, not thinking of any danger. Then Crosby and his companions began making a noise in the bushes that made it seem as though they were half a regiment; then they rushed out and called on the enemy to surrender—which they did without firing a shot. The next day the stone church at Fishkill held them as prisoners."
"I suppose Crosby was a born American, uncle?" Eric said inquiringly.
"Yes; born in Massachusetts early in January, 1750."
"That would make him twenty-five a few months before the war began.But he did not live in Massachusetts?"
"No; his parents moved to New York while he was still an infant. When he grew up he learned the trade of a shoemaker; but when the war broke out he gave up his trade and shouldered a musket. He was living at Danbury then, and was one of the hundred men who in 1775 marched to Lake Champlain and fought battles in that quarter until Quebec was stormed. It was after his return from that expedition that he engaged in the secret service."
"Being a spy?" queried Neddie.
"Yes; but at length finding that his many escapes after being taken prisoner by the Whigs had excited the suspicions of the Tories, he gave up that work and joined a detachment of the Continental Army then stationed in the Highlands."
"I hope he didn't get killed, papa?" said Little Elsie.
"No; he lived through the war, and for many years afterward. In 1827 he was in New York City as witness at a trial in court, and an old gentleman who knew him introduced him to the audience as the original of Harvey Birch—Cooper's spy. That story had been turned into a play, and was then being performed at one of the theatres. Notice was given that Crosby had accepted an invitation to attend the play, and the house was crowded with an audience who warmly greeted the old soldier."
"I'm glad they did," said Elsie. "It must have been pleasant for him, and I'm sure he deserved it; for he had helped a great deal to get us all free. Papa, haven't we just the very best country in all the world?"
"So I think," her father answered with a smile; adding, "and that being the case we ought to be the best people in all the world. Don't you think so, daughter?"
"Yes, indeed, papa; and I mean to try."
"Why not go to Fishkill to-morrow?" asked Sydney.
"All in favor of so doing may say aye," said the captain, glancing around upon the small crowd of hearers, big and little.
"Aye!" exclaimed every voice, and that was followed by a ripple of laughter. As that died down, "We seem to be of one mind," remarked the captain pleasantly. "Well, the yacht will be ready to start immediately after breakfast, if the weather is pleasant. We would hardly wish to go in a storm."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed several voices; "especially as we have plenty of time to wait for a pleasant day."
"Yes," the captain said; "but there is every indication that we will not have to do so—that to-morrow will prove as fine a day as we could wish; and I suggest that our young people—and all older ones who desire plenty of sleep—should retire pretty soon; for we will need to rise early if we want abundance of time for our expedition. The trip on the river will be short, but we will probably want to spend at least half the day on shore."
Everyone followed the captain's good advice; they were all up early next morning and ready to start on their proposed trip in good season.
The weather proved pleasant, no accident befell any of them, and all enjoyed very thoroughly their visit to Fishkill and its vicinity. They visited the Verplanck House—interesting as having been the headquarters of Baron Steuben when the American Army was encamped near Newburgh, and also as the place where the celebrated Society of the Cincinnati was organized in 1783.
"Won't you please tell us something about Baron Steuben, papa?" askedElsie Raymond as they were returning from their visit to the VerplanckHouse.
"Yes," replied the captain. "He was a German soldier, born in Magdeburg, Prussia. His full name was Frederick William Augustus Henry Ferdinand von Steuben. His father was a captain in the army, and he became a soldier when a mere lad. He saw and took part in a great deal of fighting, and in 1762 was made aide to Frederick the Great. He took part in the siege of Schweidnitz, and that closed his military career in his own land. He retired from the army, and was living most comfortably on a salary, while we were struggling for our freedom. In December, 1777, he went to Paris, on his way to visit some English noblemen who were friends of his. In Paris he met the French minister of war, who seems to have been a good friend to America, for, knowing that the great weakness of our army lay in the fact that the men lacked discipline and knew little or nothing of military tactics, he tried to persuade Steuben to come to this country and teach them.
"But very naturally the baron was not willing to sacrifice his income and his honors in order to help a cause that seemed so desperate. Yet at length he yielded to Germain's solicitation and promises, and decided to come to the help of the struggling Colonies. He came over on a French gunboat; having a long stormy passage of fifty-five days, the vessel taking fire three times—a very hazardous thing, as there were 1700 pounds of powder on board. Also there was an attempt to mutiny. However, he finally arrived safely at Portsmouth, N. H. He had a warm welcome there, the whole population going out to receive him."
"And did he go right into our army, papa?" asked Elsie.
"He wrote at once to Congress offering his services to the Colonies, saying he had come to this country because he would serve a nation engaged in the noble work of defending its rights and liberties, adding that although he had given up an honorable title and lucrative rank, he asked neither riches nor honors. He called upon Congress, and told them he would enter the army as a volunteer; if his services were not satisfactory, or if the Colonies failed to establish their independence, he was to receive nothing; but if they were successful, and he remained in the army, he expected to be refunded the income he had given up, and remunerated for his services."
"That was a good offer," remarked Eric. "I suppose they accepted it?"
"They did," replied his uncle; "and Steuben went to Valley Forge, where Washington and his army were encamped at that time. When he saw our half-starved, poorly clad soldiers come creeping out of their huts he was astounded, and said 'No European army could be kept together a week in such a state.' But he began his work at once. He did a great work; probably we could never have won our independence without the help he gave us in training our soldiers for the hard struggle necessary to win it. The fine effect of that discipline was seen in the Battle of Monmouth, when Baron Steuben rallied the retreating and disordered troops of Charles Lee like veterans."
"Did he stay in this country till the war was over, papa?" askedElsie.
"Yes; and as long as he lived. He made New York City his home for several years. I am ashamed to say that Congress refused to fulfil its contract with him to pay him for his services, but he was given grants of land in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. The first he declined to take when he learned that it was the estate of an old Tory who would be left destitute, and in the kindness of his heart he interceded for him. Steuben was very kind-hearted and generous. Lossing gives us some anecdotes illustrative of that. He says that in Newburgh, at the time of the disbanding of the army, Colonel Cochran was standing in the street penniless, when Steuben tried to comfort him by saying that better times would come.
"'For myself,' replied the brave officer, 'I can stand it; but my wife and daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern; and I have nowhere to carry them, nor even money to remove them.' As Lossing says, 'The baron's generous heart was touched, and, though poor himself, he hastened to the family of Cochran, poured the whole contents of his purse upon the table, and left as suddenly as he had entered.'
"As he was walking toward the wharf a wounded negro soldier came up to him bitterly lamenting that he had no means with which to get to New York. The baron borrowed a dollar, handed it to the negro, hailed a sloop, and put him on board. 'God Almighty bless you, baron!' said the negro as Steuben walked away. Many such stories could be told of the kind-hearted baron."
"What a shame that Congress did not keep the promise it made him when he first came over here!" exclaimed Lucilla.
"Yes; it was a great shame," acknowledged her father; "however, after seven years of delay they allowed him a pension of $2400. Then he retired to his land; he had a whole township near Utica, N. Y. He cleared sixty acres of that, built a loghouse upon it, and made his home there for the rest of his life; though he went to New York every winter. On the 22d of November, 1795, he was making preparation for that yearly visit, when he was stricken with paralysis. Three days afterward he died. In accordance with directions which he had given, he was buried near his house, with his military cloak around him and the star of honor that he always wore on his breast."
"Ah, the dear, good man! I hope he is reaping a great reward in the other world," said Sydney.
"A wish which I think we can all echo from our hearts," respondedGrandma Elsie.
"We have had a nice day—a very nice one, I think," remarked Elsie Raymond, as they sat on the deck of theDolphinpursuing their homeward way.
"Where are you going to take us to-morrow, papa?"
"That is a question for the majority of the older people to decide," replied the captain, softly stroking her curls—for she was seated upon his knee—and smiling down affectionately into her eyes.
"That means grandma and mamma, and uncle and aunt, I suppose," said the little girl, looking round inquiringly upon them. "Please, dear, good folks, won't you all say what you want?"
"I think we would all be satisfied to go to any one of the many interesting spots on the banks of this beautiful river," replied Grandma Elsie.
"As I do," said Mrs. Leland, "but, since a choice has to be made, I propose that—if no one prefers any other place—we go to West Point to-morrow."
That motion was put to vote, and the decision given in its favor was unanimous.
"Thinking of going there reminds me of Arnold and his treachery," remarked Lucilla. "Can't we go and see the Robinson House, on the other side of the river, papa?"
"I don't know that visitors are admitted to the mansion now, but we can drive past and view the outside and the grounds," replied the captain. "The house is now called Beverly, the dock from which Arnold made his escape Beverly Dock."
"He got into a boat, papa?" asked Neddie.
"Yes; into his barge, which conveyed him to the British shipVulture."
"Oh, can't you tell us the whole story of it now, papa, and let us go to the place to-morrow?"
"That might be possible," returned the captain, "if no one objects to hearing a rehearsal of the old story."
No one had any objection, and the captain proceeded with the narrative.
"Arnold was a brave, daring, and successful soldier in the Revolutionary War; one who did and suffered a great deal to win his country's freedom, and perhaps if he had been treated with perfect justice he might never have turned traitor. He was badly treated by Congress and by Gates. After that he got into serious trouble through his own reckless extravagance. He was deeply in debt and ready to do almost anything for money. He had married into a Tory family, too, and perhaps they had an influence in lessening his love for the cause of freedom and making him willing to betray his country for the money he coveted—for filthy lucre. He learned that Sir Henry Clinton so coveted West Point that almost any sum of money and any honors would be given the man who should enable the British to get possession of that post. He pondered the matter, and resolved to do the dastardly deed if possible. He had been declining active service on the plea that his wounds rendered him unfit for riding on horseback. But now his wounds healed rapidly, his patriotism was freshly aroused, and he was eager to again serve his bleeding country.
"It was in that way he talked to his friends in Congress,—GeneralSchuyler and others,—men who, he knew, had influence with Washington.He also prevailed upon Robert R. Livingston—a member of Congress—towrite to Washington and suggest the giving of the command of WestPoint to Arnold.
"Then, under the pretence of having private business in Connecticut, he went there, passing through the camp and paying his respects to Washington on the way. But he said nothing about his wish to be appointed to the command at West Point until he again called on his return; then he suggested to Washington that on rejoining the army he would like that post, as suited to his feelings and the state of his health.
"Washington was surprised, but his suspicions were not aroused. So Arnold got command of that post with all its dependencies; that is, including everything from Peekskill to Kings Ferry. His instructions were dated at Peekskill on the 3d of August, 1780. He went at once to the Highlands and established his quarters at Colonel Robinson's house.
"At this time Arnold had been in correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton for eighteen months. Both wrote over fictitious names, and Clinton did not know who his correspondent was; at least, for a great part of the time he was ignorant of his name and character, the letters passing through the hands of Major André. During the previous winter Arnold had had some connection with a British spy—Lieutenant Hele—in Philadelphia, where he had been sent with a pretended flag of truce in a vessel afterward wrecked in the Delaware, when he—Hele—was made prisoner by Congress."
"I think there was something known of Arnold's plot in England at that time; was there not, captain?" asked Mr. Leland.
"Yes," replied Captain Raymond; "and great hopes were built upon it long before it was to take place. Some of the officers who returned to England in 1780 were often heard to declare that it was all over with the rebels; that they were about to receive an irreparable blow the news of which would soon arrive. But they had no more to say on the subject after the account was received of the plot and the discovery of the traitor. To resume: Arnold wrote his letters in a disguised hand and ambiguous style, affixing to them the feigned signature of 'Gustavus.' André signed his 'John Anderson.'"
"He wasn't so bad a man as Arnold, was he, uncle?" asked Eric.
"I think not, by any means," replied Captain Raymond. "He was a fine young man who enjoyed the unbounded confidence of Sir Henry Clinton. He had been an aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, and was now adjutant-general of the British Army.
"Before Arnold's trial by a court-martial Clinton had come to the belief that he was his correspondent. That trial made him seem of less value; but when he got command of West Point his traitorous advances to his country's foes assumed increased importance. So their plans were made. Clinton was to send a strong force up the Hudson at the moment when the combined American and French forces should make an expected movement against New York. That last was one of Washington's plans which Arnold had revealed to the British general. It was thought that West Point would be the repository of the ammunition and other stores of the allied armies. It was reported that the French were to land on Long Island, and from there march against New York, while Washington would approach it from the north with the main army of the Americans; and the plan of the enemy was to send up the river at that precise time a flotilla bearing a strong land force. When they reached West Point, Arnold was to surrender to them under pretence of a weak garrison.
"With the view of carrying out that plan, the British troops were so posted that they could be put in motion on very short notice, while vessels, properly manned, were kept in readiness on the Hudson.
"But now Clinton felt it necessary to make certain of the identity of his correspondent; so he proposed a personal conference, and Arnold insisted that Major André should be the one sent. Clinton had already fixed upon André as the most suitable person to whom to intrust that important mission, and so sent him. I do not know that André went unwillingly, but he did not seek the service, though once engaged in it he did his best.
"The love of money seems to have been Arnold's greatest temptation to the treachery of which he was guilty. His first plan was to have the interview with André at his own quarters in the Highlands, André to be represented as a person entirely devoted to the American cause and possessing ample means for gaining intelligence from the enemy. As secret agents were frequently employed to procure intelligence, this was safe ground to go upon. He sent a letter to André telling him of this arrangement, and assuring him that if he could make his way safely to the American outpost above White Plains, he would find no difficulty after that.
"On the east side of the Hudson at that time was a detachment of cavalry under the command of Colonel Sheldon, who had his headquarters, with a part of his detachment, at Salem. Arnold gave him notice that he was expecting a person from New York whom he was to meet at his quarters for the purpose of making important arrangements for obtaining early intelligence from the enemy. Also he asked Sheldon to send him word to the Robinson House when this stranger arrived.
"But the arrangement was distasteful to André, who had no disposition to act as a spy. He therefore wrote a letter to Colonel Sheldon, knowing that it would be put into Arnold's hands. He proposed a meeting with Arnold at Dobbs Ferry, upon the Neutral Ground, on the next Monday, the 11th instant.
"That letter puzzled Colonel Sheldon, because he had never before heard the name of John Anderson, or anything from Arnold about expecting an escort. But he supposed it was from the person expected by the general, therefore enclosed it to him, writing at the same time that he himself was not well enough to go to Dobbs Ferry, and hoped that he would meet Anderson there himself. It was somewhat difficult for Arnold to explain matters to Sheldon so that his suspicions should not be excited, but he seems to have been skilful in deception, and managed to do so. He left his quarters on the 10th, went down the river in his barge to King's Ferry, and passed the night at the house of Joshua Hett Smith, near Haverstraw."
"That Smith was a traitor too, was he not, captain?" asked Evelyn.
"Probably; though there is a difference of opinion on that point; he acted a part in the work of treason, but was perhaps only Arnold's dupe. Early the next morning Arnold proceeded toward Dobbs Ferry, where André and Colonel Robinson were waiting to meet him, but as he drew near he was fired upon and closely pursued by the British gunboats. That, of course, made it necessary to defer the conference.
"Having gone down the river openly, Arnold thought it necessary to make some explanation to Washington, so wrote him a letter in which he mentioned several important matters connected with his command at West Point and incidentally referred to having come down the river to establish signals as near the enemy's lines as possible, that he might receive prompt notice of any fleet or troops coming up the Hudson.
"This letter was dated at Dobbs Ferry, September 11th, and that night he returned to his quarters at the Robinson House. He desired to have his interview with André as speedily as possible, because he knew that Washington was going to Hartford to hold a conference with the newly arrived French officers, and that the best time to carry out his plans for betraying his country would be in the absence of the commander-in-chief. And as Washington would cross the Hudson at King's Ferry, it was very necessary that until his departure no movement should be made that might excite his suspicion.
"Two days after Arnold had returned to his quarters he wrote again to André telling him that a person would meet him on the west side of Dobbs Ferry on Wednesday, the 20th inst., and conduct him to a place of safety where the writer would meet him. 'It will be necessary,' he added, 'for you to be in disguise. I cannot be more explicit at present. Meet me if possible. You may rest assured that if there is no danger in passing your lines, you will be perfectly safe where I propose a meeting.'
"Arnold also wrote to Major Tallmadge, at North Castle, instructing him that if a person named John Anderson should arrive at his station, to send him on without delay to headquarters under the escort of two dragoons.
"The house in which Arnold was living at that time had been the property of Colonel Robinson, but was confiscated because he had become a Tory. The two had been corresponding for some time under the pretence that Robinson was trying to recover the property through Arnold. Sir Henry Clinton had sent Robinson up the river on board theVulturewith orders to proceed as high as Teller's Point. It is probable that Robinson knew all about Arnold's treasonable plans and purposes. He now wrote a letter to General Putnam asking for an interview with him on the subject of his property, and, pretending that he did not know where Putnam was, he enclosed his letter to him in one addressed to Arnold, requesting him to hand the enclosed to Putnam, or, if that officer had gone away, to return it by the bearer, adding 'In case General Putnam should be absent, I am persuaded, from the humane and generous character you bear, that you will grant me the favor asked.'
"TheVulturewas then lying six miles below Verplanck's Point, and the letters were sent to the Point under a flag of truce. Arnold went down to that point some hours before Washington was to arrive there on his way to Hartford, and received and read Colonel Robinson's letter. Arnold took Washington and his suite across the river in his barge and accompanied them to Peekskill. He laid Robinson's letter before Washington and asked his advice. Washington replied that the civil authority alone could act in the matter, and he did not approve of a personal interview with Robinson. Arnold's frankness in all this effectually prevented any suspicion of his integrity as commandant of West Point.
"After receiving Washington's opinion in regard to the matter Arnold dared not meet Robinson; but he wrote to him, and in that letter told him that on the night of the 20th he should send a person on board of theVulturewho would be furnished with a boat and a flag of truce, and in the postscript he added, 'I expect General Washington to lodge here on Sunday next, and I will lay before him any matter you may wish to communicate.' It was an ingenious and safe way of informing the enemy just when the commander-in-chief would return from Hartford."
"That looked as though he wanted to put Washington in peril," saidLucilla.
"I think it did," said her father. "That letter was sent to Sir Henry Clinton, and the next morning André went to Dobbs Ferry. Clinton had given him positive instructions not to change his dress, not to go into the American lines, not to receive papers, or in any other way act the character of a spy.
"It was expected that Arnold would visit theVultureand there hold his interview with André. But Arnold had arranged a plan which would be safer for himself, though a greater risk for André.
"About two miles below Stony Point lived a man named Joshua Hett Smith, who had been employed by General Robert Howe, when in command of West Point, to procure intelligence from New York. Which—as Howe was a loyal American officer—would seem to be good reason for supposing that Smith was esteemed a patriotic citizen. Lossing tells us that Smith occupied a respectable station in society, and could command more valuable aid in the business in question than any other person. Arnold went to him and told him he wanted his services in bringing within the American lines a person of consequence with valuable intelligence from New York. It would seem that Arnold had resolved not to adventure himself on the British ship, but to have André take the risk of coming on shore that they might hold their contemplated interview. Arnold seems to have expected it to prove a protracted interview, and arranged with Smith to have it take place partly in his house. Therefore Smith took his family to Fishkill to visit friends, and on his return trip stopped at the Robinson house and with Arnold arranged the plan for getting André on shore for the desired interview.
"Arnold gave Smith the usual pass for a flag of truce, and an order on Major Kierse at Stony Point to furnish him with a boat whenever he should want one, and he directed Smith to go to theVulturethe next night and bring ashore the person who was expected to be there.
"Smith did not succeed in getting such assistance as he needed in boatmen, so failed to visit theVultureat the appointed time. He sent a messenger to Arnold with a letter telling of his failure. The messenger rode all night and reached the Robinson House at dawn.
"Having received the message, Arnold went down the river toVerplanck's Point and from there to Smith's.
"At the Point, Colonel Livingston handed him a letter just received from Captain Sutherland of theVulture. It was a complaint that some one of the Americans had violated the rules of war—showing a flag of truce on Teller's Point, and when in response a boat with another flag was sent off, as soon as it neared the shore it was fired upon by some armed men who were concealed in the bushes.
"The letter was signed by Sutherland, but was in the handwriting of André. Arnold at once understood that the sight of that handwriting was meant to inform him that André was on board of the vessel, and, perceiving that, he set to work making arrangements to bring him ashore. He ordered a skiff to be sent to a certain place in Haverstraw Creek, then went to Smith's house. They soon had everything ready except the boatmen to row the skiff. Samuel and Joseph Colquhon were asked to serve, but refused until Arnold threatened them with punishment, when they yielded.
"It was near midnight when at last they pushed off from the shore, and so still that not a leaf stirred in the forests, and there was not a ripple on the water. When they neared the ship they were hailed by the sentinel on its deck. Smith gave some explanation of their errand, and after some rough words was allowed to go on board. He found Captain Sutherland and Beverly Robinson in the cabin. He had a missive for the latter from Arnold, but though addressed to Robinson its contents were evidently meant for André—inviting him to come ashore and assuring him of safety in so doing. Robinson understood it and, I presume, explained it to André. Two passes signed by Arnold, which Smith brought, made still plainer Arnold's wish that André should come ashore. André yielded and went with Smith, who landed him at the foot of a great hill called Long Clove Mountain, about two miles below Haverstraw, on the western side of the river.
"This was the place Arnold had set for the meeting with André, and he was there hidden in the bushes. Smith took André to him, then left them alone together, and for the first time they heard each the other's voice. They were plotting the utter ruin of this land, and the darkness and gloom of the place seemed to suit the nature of the wicked work. They had not finished their conference when Smith returned to give warning that dawn approached and it would be dangerous for them to linger longer. Smith's house was four miles away. Arnold proposed that they should go there to finish their talk, offering André a horse which he called his servant's, though it is altogether probable it had been brought there for this purpose. André reluctantly complied with the request. He did not know that he was within the American lines until he heard the voice of a sentinel near the village of Haverstraw. His uniform was concealed by a long blue surtout, but he knew that he was in real danger because he was within the enemy's lines without a flag or pass. At dawn they reached Smith's house, and at the same moment heard the sound of a cannonade on the river. It was in the direction of theVulture."
"Fired by the Americans, papa, or by the British?" asked Elsie.
"The Americans," replied her father. "It was an attack upon the British shipVulture. Colonel Livingston had heard that she lay so near the shore as to be within cannon shot and had conceived the idea of destroying her, and during the night had sent a party with cannon from Verplanck's Point; and at dawn, from Teller's Point, they opened fire upon theVulture; so severe a one that the vessel's crew raised her anchor and moved down the river.
"Colonel Livingston had asked Arnold for two pieces of heavy cannon for the purpose of destroying theVulture, but on some slight pretence Arnold refused, and Livingston's detachment could bring only one four-pounder to bear upon her.
"Colonel Lamb of West Point furnished the ammunition—but grudgingly, saying that firing at a ship with a four-pounder was, in his opinion, a waste of powder. As Lossing remarks, he little thought what an important bearing that cannonade was to have upon the destinies of America. It drove theVulturefrom her moorings, and was one of the causes of the fatal detention of André at Smith's house. TheVulturewas so seriously damaged that had she not got off with the flood tide she would have had to surrender to the Americans. André was anxious and troubled at sight of her retreat, but when the firing ceased his spirits revived. He and Arnold went on arranging their plot, and settled upon the day when it should be consummated.
"André was to go back to New York; the British vessels, carrying troops, were to be ready to come up the river at a moment's notice, and Arnold was to weaken the post at West Point by sending out detachments among the mountain gorges under the pretence of meeting the enemy, as they advanced, at a distance from the works; and that the river might be left free for the passage of the British vessels a link from the great chain at Constitution Island was to be removed. So the enemy could take possession with very little resistance.
"Also Arnold supplied André with papers explaining the military condition of West Point and its dependencies, asking him to place them between his stockings and his feet, and in case of accident to destroy them. He also gave him a pass; then bade him adieu and went up the river in his barge; probably feeling greatly satisfied with the thought that he had at last fully succeeded in carrying out his wicked scheme to betray his country.
"André remained where he was until evening, then asked Smith to take him back to theVulture. Smith refused, saying he was not well—had the ague. Probably, though, it had been caused by the firing upon theVulture, as he was willing to go with André if he would take the land route.
"To that André finally consented, as he had no other means of reaching the vessel. Arnold had persuaded him that in case of taking a land route he would better exchange his military coat for a citizen's dress, and that he did. Both that and the receiving of papers were contrary to the orders of Sir Henry Clinton; but André felt obliged to be governed by the unforeseen circumstances in which he was now placed. He and Smith started on the short journey together, Smith promising to conduct him as far as the lower outposts of the American line.
"A little before sunset, on the evening of September 22d, they crossed King's Ferry, accompanied by a negro servant, and at dusk passed through the works at Verplanck's Point and turned toward White Plains. They had gone as far as Crompond, a little village about eight miles from Verplanck's Point, when they were hailed by a sentinel who belonged to a party under Captain Boyd. That officer asked the travellers many searching questions, and would not be satisfied that all was right until they showed him Arnold's pass. He had a light brought and examined the pass, and, seeing that it was genuine, he gave them permission to go on, after he had apologized for his doubts of them and given them a friendly warning of danger from the Cowboys in the neighborhood. He advised them on that account to travel no farther till morning; but Smith said their business was urgent and they must make haste to reach White Plains.
"At that the captain went on to speak very strongly of the dangers of the way, till he so aroused the fears of Smith that he was disposed to tarry where they were for the rest of the night. André was not so inclined, and it was some time before Smith could induce him to stay and take lodging in a near-by cottage.
"They occupied the same bed, and Smith afterward told that it was a weary and restless night for André. They left their bed at dawn and again started upon their journey. As they neared Pine's Bridge, Smith assured André that they were beyond patrolling parties, and André at once shook off his depression and talked gaily, discoursing upon arts, literature, poetry, and the common topics of the day. Near Pine's Bridge they separated; Smith went to Fishkill, stopping at the Robinson House on his way to tell Arnold the particulars of his little journey with André and where he had left him.
"Smith and others had advised André not to take the Tarrytown road because of the many Cowboys in that neighborhood, but André, considering them his friends, disregarded the advice, and, in consequence, met his sad fate."
"It was a pity for him, but a good thing for our country," remarkedLucilla.
"Yes," her father said. "On that very morning a little band of seven volunteers went out near Tarrytown to prevent cattle from being driven to New York, and to arrest any suspicious characters who might be travelling that way. A man named John Yerks proposed the expedition the day before, and enlisted several others to take part in the enterprise. They reached Tarrytown early on the day André did. Four of them agreed to watch the road from a hill above, while Paulding, Van Wart, and David Williams were to conceal themselves in the bushes beside the stream and near the post road.
"Eleven days after that, at the trial of Smith, Paulding and Williams told the story of their capture of André. Paulding testified that he, Isaac Van Wart, and David Williams were lying by the side of the road about half a mile above Tarrytown and fifteen miles above Kingsbridge, between nine and ten o'clock on Saturday morning, the 23d of September. That they had lain there about an hour and a half, as nearly as he could recollect, and had seen several persons with whom they were acquainted and whom they let pass. Presently one of the young men with him said, 'There comes a gentlemanlike-looking man who appears to be well dressed and has boots on. You'd better step out and stop him, if you don't know him.'
"Paulding went on to say that on that he got up, presented his firelock at the breast of the traveler, told him to stand, and then asked him which way he was going. 'Gentlemen,' said André, 'I hope you belong to our party.' Paulding asked him what party. He answered, 'The lower party.' Paulding said he did; then André said, 'I am a British officer, out in the country on particular business, and I hope you will not detain me a minute.' Then, to show that he was a British officer, he drew out his watch. Upon that Paulding told him to dismount. 'I must do anything to get along,' he said, and made a kind of laugh of it, and pulled out General Arnold's pass, which was to John Anderson, to pass all guards to White Plains and below. Upon that he dismounted, and said, 'Gentlemen, you had best let me go, or you will bring yourselves into trouble, for your stopping me will detain the general's business'; and he said he was going to Dobbs Ferry to meet a person there and get intelligence for General Arnold.
"'Upon that,' continued Paulding, 'I told him I hoped he would not be offended; that we did not mean to take anything from him; and I told him there were many bad people on the road, and I did not know but perhaps he might be one,' Paulding also said that he asked the person his name, and was told that it was John Anderson. He added that if Anderson had not already told that he was a British officer, he would have let him go on seeing Arnold's pass. He also said that he understood the pulling out of the watch to mean to show that he was a British officer; not that he was offering it to his captors.
"Williams too gave his testimony in regard to the occurrences. 'We took him into the bushes,' he said, 'and ordered him to pull off his clothes, which he did; but on searching him narrowly we could not find any sort of writing. We told him to pull off his boots, which he seemed to be indifferent about; but we got one boot off and searched in it, but could find nothing. But we found that there were some papers in the bottom of his stocking next to his foot; on which we made him pull his stocking off, and found three papers wrapped up. Mr. Paulding looked at the contents, and said that he was a spy. We then made him pull off his other boot, and there we found three more papers at the bottom of his foot, within his stocking. Upon this we made him dress himself, and I asked him what he would give us to let him go. He said he would give us any sum of money. I asked him whether he would give us his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, and one hundred guineas. He said Yes, and told us he would direct them to any place, even if it was that very spot, so that we could get them. I asked him whether he would not give us more. He said he would give us any quantity of dry goods, or any sum of money, and bring it to any place that we might pitch upon, so that we might get it. Mr. Paulding answered, "No; if you would give us ten thousand guineas, you should not stir one step." I then asked the person who had called himself John Anderson if he would not get away if it lay in his power. He answered, "Yes, I would." I told him I did not intend he should. While taking him along we asked him a few questions, and we stopped under a shade. He begged us not to ask him questions, and said that when he came to any commander he would reveal all.
"'He was dressed in a blue overcoat,' Williams went on to say, 'and a tight bodycoat that was a kind of claret color, though a rather deeper red than claret. The buttonholes were laced with gold tinsel, and the buttons drawn over with the same kind of lace. He had on a round hat, and nankeen waistcoat and breeches, with a flannel waistcoat and drawers, boots and thread stockings.'
"North Castle was the nearest military post, and there they took André and delivered both the man and the papers they had found upon him to Lieutenant Colonel Jameson, the officer in command.
"It seems hard to understand how Jameson could be so foolish as to decide as he did, to send the prisoner immediately to Arnold. He knew that some of the papers were in Arnold's undisguised handwriting, and it seems unaccountable that the circumstances under which they had come into his hands should not have opened his eyes to the treachery of that officer. He wrote a letter to Arnold saying that he sent a certain Mr. Anderson forward under the charge of Lieutenant Allen and a guard, Anderson having been taken while on his way to New York; adding, 'He had a passport signed in your name, and a parcel of papers taken from under his stockings which I think of a very dangerous tendency.' He went on to describe the papers and to say that he had sent them to Washington.
"Major Tallmadge, who was next in command to Jameson, was that day on duty farther down the river. When he returned in the evening and heard of the circumstances, he was filled with astonishment at Jameson's folly, and boldly expressed his doubts of Arnold's fidelity. He offered to take upon himself the entire responsibility of acting on the belief of his guilt, if Jameson would consent. But Jameson refused to allow anything that would seem to imply distrust of Arnold.
"Then Tallmadge earnestly begged of him to have the prisoner brought back. Jameson gave an unwilling consent to that, but insisted on forwarding his letter and informing the general why the prisoner was not sent on. That was the letter Arnold received in time to enable him to make his escape to theVulture.
"Jameson at once sent an express after Lieutenant Allen, who had André in charge, directing him to take his prisoner back to headquarters at North Castle.
"When Major Tallmadge saw André, and noticed his manner and gait as he paced the room, he felt convinced that he was a military man and more than ever certain that Arnold was indeed a traitor. He talked the matter over with Jameson and partly convinced him. The result was the removal of André to Colonel Sheldon's quarters at North Salem, as a more secure place.
"There André wrote a letter to Washington, giving his name and rank and a brief account of the occurrences which had brought him into his present situation. This he handed to Major Tallmadge, who learned with astonishment that his prisoner was the adjutant-general of the British Army.
"The letter was sealed and sent to General Washington, and the prisoner seemed to feel relieved. In obedience to an order from Washington, André was taken to West Point and kept there until the morning of the 28th, when he was conducted to Stony Point and from there, under a strong escort, to Tappan. Major Tallmadge commanded the escort and rode by André's side all the way. He and André were about the same age and held the same rank in their respective armies. They talked on the way as familiarly as possible. André told Tallmadge that he was to have taken part in the attack on West Point if Arnold's plans had succeeded; that he had asked no reward but the military glory to be won by such service to his king, though he had been promised the rank and pay of a brigadier-general if he had succeeded. He inquired earnestly of Tallmadge what would probably be the result of his capture. In reply Tallmadge reminded him of the fate of the unfortunate Captain Hale.
"'But you surely do not consider his case and mine alike?' said André.
"'Yes, precisely similar, and similar will be your fate,' repliedTallmadge.
"The prospect of that—the being branded as a spy—greatly distressed poor André; he seemed to feel it the very worst part of his sad fate."
"To be called a spy, papa?" asked Ned.
"Yes; it is an odious name, and in his case would not have the excuse that it was work undertaken for the salvation of his country, as it was in that of Nathan Hale."
"Nathan Hale? Who was he, papa? and what did he do?"
"I must go on with this story now, and you shall learn that of CaptainHale at another time," replied his father.
"Washington now made arrangements for the security of West Point, then went to the army at Tappan. There he called together a board of general officers and directed them to inquire into the case of André and report to him, stating in what light they thought the prisoner should be regarded and what his punishment should be. That court was convened at Tappan on the 29th of September, and Major André arraigned before it. He made a plain statement of the facts, acknowledged and confirmed the account he had given in his letter to Washington, confessed that he came ashore in the night and without a flag, and answered the question whether he had anything further to say in regard to the charges against him by the remark, 'I leave them to operate with the board, persuaded that you will do me justice.'
"He was sent back to prison while the board deliberated long and carefully over the question of his guilt. Their final verdict was that 'Major André, adjutant-general of the British Army, ought to be considered as a spy from the enemy, and that agreeably to the law and usage of nations, it is their opinion that he ought to suffer death.'
"The next day Washington's approval of the decision was given, accompanied by the order that the execution should take place on the following day at five o'clock P. M."
"What a pity!" exclaimed Grace. "I think I have read that our officers felt sorry for him and would have been glad to spare his life. Was it not so, papa?"
"Yes," the captain said. "There was a general desire on the part of the Americans to save his life, and I think no one desired it more earnestly than Washington, if it could have been done in a manner consistent with his public duty. The only way to accomplish that was by exchanging him for Arnold, and holding the latter responsible for the acts of his victim. A formal proposition of the kind would not answer,—Washington could not make, nor Clinton accept it,—but a plan to attempt such an arrangement was decided upon. A trusty officer of the New Jersey line, Captain Aaron Ogden, was given a packet of papers by Washington containing an official account of André's trial, the decision of the board of inquiry, and André's letter to his general. Ogden was told to choose his escort of men known for their fidelity, then go to Lafayette for further instructions.
"Lafayette was in command of the light infantry and stationed nearest to the British. He instructed Ogden to travel so slowly that he would not reach Paulus Hotel till near night, and he would be invited to stay there till morning. He was then to get into talk with the commandant of the post about this affair of André, and suggest that it would be well to exchange him for Arnold if it could be done.
"It all occurred just as planned: the commandant received Ogden courteously, sent the package across the river, invited him to stay all night, and in the course of conversation André's case was introduced.
"'Is there no way to spare his life?' asked the commandant.
"'If Sir Henry Clinton would give up Arnold, André might be saved,' replied Ogden. 'I have no assurance to that effect from General Washington, but I have reason to know that such an arrangement might be effected.'
"'On hearing that the commandant left the company immediately, crossed the river, and had an interview with Sir Henry Clinton. It availed nothing, however. Sir Henry at once refused compliance; honor, he said, would not allow the surrender of Arnold—a man who had deserted from the Americans and openly espoused the cause of the king.
"When Ogden mustered his men at dawn the next morning a sergeant was missing. He had deserted to the enemy during the night. There was no time to search for him, and they returned to Tappan without him."
"Did he go over to the British, papa? Oh, what a naughty man!" criedNed.
"That was what his fellow-soldiers thought," returned the captain with a smile. "But he was really obeying Washington, who wanted him to obtain in that way some very important information. A paper had been intercepted in which was the name of General St. Clair, mentioned in such a way as to excite suspicion that he was connected with Arnold's treason. The sergeant, who was an intelligent man, soon discovered that there was no ground for such suspicion, and that the paper which had excited it was designed by the enemy to fall into Washington's hands and excite jealousy and ill-feeling among the American officers. The papers were traced to a British emissary named Brown.
"Sir Henry Clinton was much distressed on reading Washington's despatch and the letter of André. He summoned a council of officers and it was at once resolved to send a deputation of three persons to the nearest American outpost to open communication with Washington, present proofs of André's innocence, and try to procure his release. General Robertson, Andrew Elliott, and William Smith were the men chosen as the committee, and Beverly Robinson went with them as a witness in the case. Toward noon, on the last of October, they arrived at Dobbs Ferry, in theGreyhoundschooner, with a flag of truce.
"General Greene had been appointed by Washington to act in his behalf, and was already at the ferry when theGreyhoundcame to anchor. General Robertson opened the conference with great courtesy of manner and flattering words, and was going on to discuss the subject of conference, when General Greene politely interrupted him by saying, 'Let us understand our position. I meet you only as a private gentleman, not as an officer, for the case of an acknowledged spy admits of no discussion.'
"With that understanding the conference was carried on, the British saying what they could in André's favor, but bringing forward nothing that affected the justice of his sentence. Then a letter from Arnold to Washington was produced. It was impudent, malignant, and hypocritical; menaced Washington with dreadful retaliation if André should be executed, prophesying that it would cause torrents of blood to flow, and the guilt of that would be upon Washington. Such a letter could not reasonably be expected to produce any good effect.
"The conference ended at sunset. Robertson expressed his confidence that Greene would be candid in reporting to Washington the substance of what had passed between them, adding that he should remain on board theGreyhoundall night, and that he hoped that in the morning he might take Major André back with him, or at least hear that his life was safe.
"Robertson was overwhelmed with astonishment and grief when early the next morning he received a note from Greene stating that Washington's opinion and decision were unchanged, and the prisoner would be executed that day.
"Sir Henry Clinton wrote to Washington, offering some important prisoners in exchange; but it was too late.
"André showed no fear of death, but was very solicitous to be shot rather than hanged. He pleaded for that with touching but manly earnestness, importuning Washington in a letter written the day before his death. It was, however, contrary to the customs of war, and Washington, kind-hearted as he was, could not grant his request.
"Major André was executed at Tappan on the 2d of October, 1780, at twelve o'clock. A large detachment of troops was paraded; there was an immense concourse of people present; excepting Washington and his staff, almost all the field officers were there on horseback. There was a strong feeling of pity for the young man, and the whole scene was very affecting. I suppose the general feeling was that he was suffering the punishment that ought, if possible, to have been meted out to Arnold—the traitor."
"I think history says that André went through it all very bravely; does it not, captain?" asked Sydney.
"Yes; there was a smile on his countenance as he walked from the stone-house where he had been confined, to the place of execution, and he bowed politely to several officers whom he knew, they returning it respectfully. He had hoped to be shot rather than hanged, and when he suddenly came in view of the gallows he started backward and made a pause. An officer by his side asked, 'Why this emotion, sir?' André instantly recovered his composure, and answered, 'I am reconciled to my death, but I detest the mode,' Tears came into the eyes of many of the spectators as they saw him take off his hat and stock, and bandage his own eyes. He slipped the noose over his head, and adjusted it to his neck with perfect firmness. He was then told that he had an opportunity to speak if he wished to do so. At that he raised the handkerchief from his eyes, and said, 'I pray you to bear me witness that I meet my fate like a brave man.' He had said of the manner of his death, 'It will be but a momentary pang,' and so it proved, as, on the removal of the wagon on which he stood, he expired almost instantly. The body was placed in an ordinary coffin, and buried at the foot of the gallows. And the spot was consecrated by the tears of thousands."
"But it doesn't lie there now?" Sydney said half in assertion, half inquiringly.
"No; in 1831 it was taken up, carried to England, and buried near his monument in Westminster Abbey. But here we are at our temporary home again, and further talk on these interesting historical themes must be deferred until our usual gathering together on the porch for an evening chat," said the captain as the boat rounded to at the wharf below Evelyn's cottage.
The trip on theDolphinhad been restful rather than fatiguing, and all were ready when tea was over for further chat upon the interesting historical themes which had engaged their attention through the day.
"Congress rewarded the men who took André prisoner, did it not, papa?" asked Grace.
"Yes; each of them was given a medal and a pension of two hundred dollars a year. Washington wrote of them to Congress in terms of high praise, proposing that they should receive a handsome gratuity for having saved the country from one of the severest strokes that could have been meditated against it. Lossing tells the whole story in his 'Field-Book of the Revolution,' and gives a picture of the medal."
"Oh, that was good!" exclaimed Little Elsie, adding, "Now, papa, I hope you are going to tell us the rest about the traitor Arnold."
"If all wish to hear it," replied her father; and receiving the assurance that such was the case, he proceeded with the story.
"When Arnold left André at Smith's house he went up the river in his barge and directly to the Robinson House; on arriving there spent a little time with his wife and child, then had a talk with his two aides, Majors Varick and Franks, telling them he was expecting important information from New York through a distinguished channel which he had just opened. This was on the 22d; the day fixed upon for the ascent of the river by the British ships was the 24th, and West Point was to be surrendered to them on their arrival there."
"And they listened to it all and never suspected him?" exclaimedSydney.
"Yes," said the captain; "he told it all as calmly as if there were no guilt on his soul, and so he appeared on the very day that his treason was to be consummated.
"Washington returned from Hartford two days sooner than Arnold had expected. He passed the night at Fishkill, and he and his suite were in the saddle before dawn, as he was anxious to reach Arnold's quarters before breakfast time, and they had eighteen miles to ride. Men were sent ahead with the baggage and a notice of Washington's intention of breakfasting there; but when the general and his party came opposite West Point, he turned his horse down a lane toward the river.
"Lafayette said, 'General, you are going in a wrong direction; you know Mrs. Arnold is waiting breakfast for us; and that road will take us out of the way.'
"Washington answered good-naturedly: 'Ah, I know you young men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold, and wish to get where she is as soon as possible. You may go and take your breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait for me; for I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of the river, and will be there in a short time.'
"But the officers did not leave him, except two aides-de-camp who rode on ahead to explain the cause of the delay. Breakfast was waiting when they arrived, and they all sat down to their meal.
"Arnold seemed moody. Washington had come back too soon to suit his plans, and the British had not come up the river at the appointed time. He did not understand it, for he had not yet heard that André was a prisoner. But before the meal was over Lieutenant Allen came with a letter for him. Arnold broke the seal hastily, for he recognized Colonel Jameson's handwriting in the address. Doubtless Arnold expected it would inform him that the enemy was moving up the river; but instead it told that Major André of the British Army was a prisoner in his custody. It must have been like a thunderbolt to Arnold, but his self-control was such that he showed but slight disturbance; he told the aides-de-camp that he found he must go immediately to West Point, and asked them to say to General Washington, when he came, that he had been unexpectedly called over the river and would soon return.
"He ordered a horse to be made ready, then left the table and went upstairs to his wife. He told her that he must flee for his life, and might never see her again. She fainted, but not venturing to call for assistance, or to delay his flight, he gave a farewell kiss to their sleeping baby, ran from the room, mounted a horse belonging to one of Washington's aides, and hastened toward the river—not by the winding road that led to the Beverly Dock, but along a by-way that led down a steep hill which is yet called Arnold's Path. He got into his barge, and told the six oarsmen to push out into the middle of the stream and pull for Teller's Point, promising them two gallons of rum if they would row rapidly. He told them he was going on board theVulturewith a flag of truce, and was obliged to make all possible haste, as he wanted to return in time to meet General Washington at his quarters.
"When they passed Verplanck's Point he showed a white handkerchief, which served as a flag of truce to both Captain Livingston at the Point and Captain Sutherland of theVulture—lying in sight a few miles below. No one followed or tried to intercept them, and they reached theVulturewithout difficulty. Arnold introduced himself to the captain, then told his oarsmen that they were prisoners. They answered indignantly that they had come aboard under a flag of truce and had a right to be allowed to go back free. Arnold coolly told them they must remain on board. Captain Sutherland did not interfere; but, despising Arnold's meanness, he gave the coxswain a parole to go on shore and get such things as he wanted, and when they arrived at New York Sir Henry Clinton set them all at liberty."
"Arnold was one mean wretch! I am sorry to have to own him as anAmerican!" exclaimed Lucilla.
"Didn't the British despise him, papa?" asked Elsie.
"Yes, many of them did—regarding him with scorn as a reptile unworthy of that esteem which a high-souled traitor, a traitor because of great personal wrong, might claim.
"You remember Arnold had said when he left the breakfast table at the Robinson House that he was going to West Point. Shortly after his departure Washington came in. On being told that Arnold had gone across the river to West Point, he took a hasty breakfast, then said he would go over again and meet Arnold there. Hamilton did not go with the others, and it was arranged that the general and his suite should return and all take dinner there.
"As they were crossing the river Washington remarked that they would be greeted with a salute, as General Arnold was at the Point; but to their surprise all was silent when they drew near the landing. Colonel Lamb, the commanding officer, came strolling down a winding path, and was quite confused when he saw the barge touch the shore. He apologized to Washington for his seeming neglect of courtesy, saying that he was entirely ignorant of his intended visit. 'Sir, is not General Arnold here?' asked Washington in surprise.
"'No, sir,' replied Colonel Lamb, 'he has not been here these two days, nor have I heard from him within that time.'
"That aroused Washington's suspicions, but he went around examining the works at West Point, and about noon returned to the Beverly Dock, from which he had departed.
"As he was going up from the river to the house, Hamilton was seen coming toward the party with a hurried step and an anxious, troubled countenance. He said something to Washington in a low tone; they went into the house together, and Hamilton laid before the chief several papers which furnished conclusive evidence of Arnold's guilt. They were the documents which Arnold had put in André's hands. With them was a letter from Colonel Jameson and one from André himself.
"Jameson, thinking Washington was still in Hartford, had sent a messenger there with these papers. While on the way the messenger heard of the return of Washington, and, hurrying back, took the nearest route to West Point through Lower Salem, where André was in custody. So he became the bearer of André's letter to Washington. He reached the Robinson House four hours after Arnold had left it, and placed the papers in Hamilton's hands.
"Washington called in Knox and Lafayette to give their counsel. He was calm, but full of grief. 'Whom can we trust now?' he said. As soon as the papers had been examined, Washington despatched Hamilton on horseback to Verplanck's Point, that an effort might be made there to stop the traitor.
"But it was too late; Arnold had got nearly six hours the start of him. When Hamilton reached the Point a flag of truce was approaching from theVultureto that post. The bearer brought a letter from Arnold to Washington. Hamilton forwarded it at once to the commander-in-chief, then wrote to Greene, who was at Tappan, advising him to take measures to prevent any attempt the British might make to carry out the traitor's plans.
"But the plot had failed; and when Sir Henry Clinton heard of it the next morning, on the arrival of theVultureat New York, knowing that the Americans must now be wide awake to their danger, he gave up all thought of carrying out his scheme for getting possession of West Point."
The captain paused in his narrative, and Eric asked, "What did Arnold write to Washington about, uncle?"
"To ask protection for his wife and child, and to say that love for his country had actuated him in this thing."
"Humph! a queer kind of love I should say," sneered the boy.
"Yes; a love that led him to do all in his power for the utter destruction of her liberties."
"And was Washington good to his wife and child?"
"Yes, very kind and sympathizing; and she was soon able to rejoin her husband—going down the river to New York with her babe.
"Washington promptly sent orders to General Greene to march with his portion of the army toward King's Ferry. Greene did not get the order before midnight, but by dawn his whole division was on the march. Washington sent a letter to Colonel Jameson also, telling him to send André to Robinson's house under a strong guard. That order also was received at midnight; André was aroused; and, though the night was very dark and rain falling fast, a guard under Major Tallmadge set off with the prisoner. They rode the rest of the night, and reached their destination at dawn of the 26th. On the evening of that day André was taken over to West Point, and on the morning of the 28th to Tappan. But we have already finished his story."
"I wish our folks could have got Arnold and punished him!" exclaimedEric.
"Didn't they even try at all, uncle?"
"Yes, and came very near succeeding," said the captain. "You will find an interesting story about it in Lossing's 'Field Book of the Revolution.'"