Joins the northern Army.—The tragical Death of Jane M'Crea near Fort Edward.—Arnold commands an Expedition to Fort Schuyler.—Rejoins the main Army on the Hudson.—The Battles of Behmus's Heights.

Arnold arrived at Fort Edward and joined General Schuyler in the latter part of July. The array was then preparing to move five miles lower down the Hudson, and form an encampment on the high grounds near Moses Creek, which had been selected for the purpose by Kosciuszko. At the time of this movement the army was separated into two divisions, one of which was put under the command of Arnold, whose headquarters were between Moses Creek and Fort Edward. Four days after he had taken this station, a tragical event happened within the limits of his command, which, from its singular barbarity and the circumstances attending it, has been commemorated by historians, and will be perpetuated as a memento of the melancholy fate of suffering innocence, and an affecting record of the horrors of savage warfare.

The murder of Jane M'Crea has been a theme, which eloquence and sensibility have alike contributed to dignify, and which has kindled in many a breast the emotions of a responsive sympathy. General Gates's description, in his letter to Burgoyne, although more ornate than forcible, and abounding more in bad taste than simplicity or pathos, was suited to the feelings of the moment, and produced a lively impression in every part of America; and the glowing language of Burke, in one of his most celebrated speeches in the British Parliament, made the story of Jane M'Crea familiar to the European world.

This young lady was the daughter of a clergyman, who died in New Jersey before the Revolution. Upon her father's death she sought a home in the house of her brother, a respectable gentleman residing on the western bank of Hudson's River, about four miles below Fort Edward. Here she formed an intimacy with a young man, named David Jones, to whom it was understood she was engaged to be married. When the war broke out, Jones took the side of the royalists, went to Canada, received a commission, and was a captain or lieutenant among the provincials in Burgoyne's army.

Fort Edward was situate on the eastern margin of Hudson's River, within a few yards of the water, and surrounded by a plain of considerable extent, which was cleared of wood and cultivated. On the road leading to the north, and near the foot of a hill about one third of a mile from the fort, stood a house occupied by Mrs. McNiel, a widow lady and an acquaintance of Miss McCrea, with whom she was staying as a visitor at the time the American army was in that neighborhood. The side of the hill was covered with a growth of bushes, and on its top, a quarter of a mile from the house, stood a large pine tree, near the root of which gushed out a perennial spring of water. A guard of one hundred men had been left at the fort, and a picket under Lieutenant Van Vechten was stationed in the woods on the hill a little beyond the pine tree.

Early one morning this picket guard was attacked by a party of Indians, rushing through the woods from different points at the same moment, and rending the air with hideous yells. Lieutenant Van Vechten and five others were killed and scalped, and four were wounded. Samuel Standish, one of the guard, whose post was near the pine tree, discharged his musket at the first Indian he saw, and ran down the hill towards the fort; but he had no sooner reached the plain, than three Indians, who had pursued him to cut off his retreat, darted out of the bushes, fired, and wounded him in the foot. One of them sprang upon him, threw him to the ground, pinioned his arms, and then pushed him violently forward up the hill. He naturally made as much haste as he could, and in a short time they came to the spring, where several Indians were assembled.

Here Standish was left to himself, at a little distance from the spring and the pine tree, expecting every moment to share the fate of his comrades, whose scalps were conspicuously displayed. A few minutes only had elapsed, when he saw a small party of Indians ascending the hill, and with them Mrs. McNiel and Miss McCrea on foot. He knew them both, having often been at Mrs. McNiel's house. The party had hardly joined the other Indians, when he perceived much agitation among them, high words and violent gestures, till at length they engaged in a furious quarrel, and beat one another with their muskets. In the midst of this fray, one of the chiefs, apparently in a paroxysm of rage, shot Miss McCrea in the breast. She instantly fell and expired. Her hair was long and flowing. The same chief grasped it in his hand, seized his knife, and took off the scalp in such a manner as to include nearly the whole of the hair; then springing from the ground, he tossed it in the face of a young warrior, who stood near him watching the operation, brandished it in the air, and uttered a yell of savage exultation. When this was done the quarrel ceased; and, as the fort had already been alarmed, the Indians hurried away as quickly as possible to General Fraser's encampment on the road to Fort Anne, taking with them Mrs. McNiel and Samuel Standish.

The bodies of the slain were found by a party, that went in pursuit, and were carried across the river. They had been stripped of their clothing, and the body of Miss McCrea was wounded in nine places, either by a scalping knife or a tomahawk. A messenger was despatched to convey the afflicting intelligence to her brother, who arrived soon afterwards, took charge of his sister's remains, and had them interred on the east side of the river about three miles below the fort. The body of Lieutenant Van Vechten was buried at the same time and on the same spot.

History has preserved no facts by which we can at this day ascertain the reason, why Miss McCrea should remain as she did in so exposed and unprotected a situation. She had been reminded of her danger by the people at the fort. Tradition relates, however, and with seeming truth, that through some medium of communication she had promised her lover, probably by his advice, to remain in this place, until the approach of the British troops should afford her an opportunity to join him, in company with her hostess and friend. It is said, that, when they saw the Indians coming to the house, they were at first frightened and attempted to escape; but, as the Indians made signs of a pacific intention, and one of them held up a letter intimating that it was to be opened, their fears were calmed and the letter was read. It was from Jones, and contained a request that they would put themselves under the charge of the Indians, whom he had sent for the purpose, and who would guard them in safety to the British camp. Unfortunately two separate parties of Indians, or at least two chiefs acting independently of each other, had united in this enterprise, combining with it an attack of the picket guard. It is incredible that Jones should have known this part of the arrangement, or he would have foreseen the danger it threatened. When the prize was in their hands, the two chiefs quarrelled about the mode of dividing the reward they were to receive; and, according to the Indian rule of settling disputes in the case of captives, one of them in a wild fit of passion killed the victim and secured the scalp. Nor is it the least shocking feature of the transaction, that the savage seemed not aware of the nature of his mission. Uninformed as to the motive of his employer for obtaining the person of the lady, or not comprehending it, he regarded her in the light of a prisoner, and supposed the scalp would be an acceptable trophy. Let it be imagined what were the feelings of the anxious lover, waiting with joyful anticipation the arrival of his intended bride, when this appalling proof of her death was presented to him. The innocent had suffered by the hand of cruelty and violence, which he had unconsciously armed; his most fondly cherished hopes were blasted, and a sting was planted in his soul, which time and forgetfulness could never eradicate. His spirit was scathed and his heart broken. He lived but a few years, a prey to his sad recollections, and sunk into the grave under the burden of his grief.

The remembrance of this melancholy tale is still cherished with a lively sympathy by the people, who dwell near the scene of its principal incidents. The inhabitants of the village of Fort Edward have lately removed the remains of Miss McCrea from their obscure resting-place, and deposited them in the public burial-ground. The ceremony was solemn and impressive. A procession of young men and maidens followed the relics, and wept in silence when the earth was again closed over them, thus exhibiting an honorable proof of sensibility and of respect for the dead. The little fountain still pours out its clear waters near the brow of the hill, and the venerable pine is yet standing in its ancient majesty, broken at the top and shorn of its branches by the winds and storms of half a century, but revered as marking the spot where youth and innocence were sacrificed in the tragical death of Jane McCrea. *

* The circumstances attending the murder of Miss McCrea have been variously represented. Samuel Standish himself related to me the above particulars, as far as they came under his own observation. When he arrived at the British camp he was taken before General Fraser, who asked him many questions and treated him kindly. He was then sent a prisoner to Ticonderoga, whence he contrived to make his escape two months afterwards. Miles Standish, the famous military leader of the first Pilgrims at Plymouth, was his ancestor in a direct line.

The first report of the attack upon the picket guard, which was brought to Arnold, magnified the number of the assailants so much, that he detached a thousand men, with orders to march in two divisions, one to fall upon their rear, and the other to gain their front. The attempt was defeated by a heavy shower of rain, which wet the arms of the troops and damaged their powder. It is not likely, indeed, that in any event they would have overtaken the enemy, who moved off without delay, and were not inclined to wait an attack.

The day after this affair an advanced party of the British troops took possession of Fort Edward, and General Schuyler soon retreated with his whole army to Stillwater. In the mean time the question of Arnold's rank was again brought up in Congress, and decided against him by a majority of nearly three to one. It was the first occasion on which the yeas and nays were entered in the journals. Arnold had previously received a letter from one of his friends in Congress, who assured him, that, in the present temper of the members, he could have no hope of the restoration of his rank. Piqued and mortified at this obstinate determination to withhold from him what he deemed to be a right, and from the refusal of which his reputation was suffering, he asked leave of General Schuyler to retire; but by the persuasion of that officer, and a representation of the absolute necessity of his services at so critical a moment, he was induced again to suspend his purpose.

While the army was at Stillwater, intelligence arrived of the defeat of General Herkimer at the bloody battle of Oriskany, the investiture of Fort Schuyler by St. Leger with a large body of British troops, Canadians, and Indians, and the imminent danger to which the garrison was exposed. Eight hundred men under General Learned were immediately detached to the relief of the garrison. Arnold volunteered to command the expedition, and set off with instructions to call out as many of the militia as he could, and to adopt the most effectual measures to repel the enemy, and protect the settlements on the Mohawk River.

Washington had already advised his being sent into that quarter, but General Schuyler was reluctant to spare him from the main army.

When the detachment reached Fort Dayton at the German Flats, where there was a guard of Continental troops, it appeared by the adjutant's return, that the whole force then assembled was nine hundred and forty-six regulars, and less than one hundred militia. It was ascertained at the same time, that the number of the enemy besieging Fort Schuyler amounted to at least seventeen hundred, including one thousand Indians. In the opinion of a council of war, with these facts before them, it was imprudent to hazard an attack until a reinforcement could be obtained. Arnold accordingly sent an express to General Gates, who had superseded General Schuyler and was then at Van Schaick's Island, at the mouth of the Mohawk, soliciting an additional detachment of one thousand light troops. He likewise issued a tumid proclamation, after the example of Burgoyne and St. Leger, and, according to the fashion of those times, offering pardon to Indians, Germans, Americans, or Britons, if within ten days they would sue for protection and take the oath of allegiance to the United States, but threatening direful vengeance upon those, who should neglect this proffer of mercy, and be captured in prosecuting their hostile designs.

Stratagems in war are sometimes more effectual than arms or military skill. A singular instance of this kind occurred on the present occasion. A man by the name of Cuyler was seized as a spy. * There was little doubt of his guilt, or at least of his coming under the heavy penalties of the proclamation. Cuyler was a refugee, an inhabitant of that region, a man of some consideration among the people, and known in the enemy's camp, whence he had lately come out with a flag to entice the settlers to rally under the standard of St. Leger. It is said to have been first suggested by Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks, of the Massachusetts line, to employ him as a messenger of deceptive intelligence to the enemy. He was brought before Arnold, who questioned him, and promised a pardon of all past offences and the security of his property, if he would return to St. Leger's camp, and make so exaggerated a report of the number of Americans approaching, as to alarm the Indians and cause them to despair of success. To this he assented, and his brother was retained in confinement as a hostage for the faithful fulfilment of his promise.

* In some accounts he is called Hanyost Schuyler, which I am inclined to think was the true name; but historians have adopted the other.

A friendly Indian, wily by nature and skilled in artifice from habit, proposed that bullets should be shot through Cuyler's coat, which would give the greater plausibility to his story. Thus prepared he entered the forest, and in a little time fell in with one of the enemy's scouts, to whom he related the disaster of his having been taken and condemned as a spy, adding that he was about to be executed when he found means to elude his guards, but was pursued so closely as to be shot several times through his clothes, and had escaped with the utmost peril of his life. The same account he repeated to St. Leger, as soon as he came to the camp, and said that Arnold was advancing by rapid marches at the head of two thousand men. A second messenger followed close upon his heels, who magnified the number to three thousand, with the additional embellishment of their being very near at hand. The success of the stratagem was complete. A panic spread among the Indians, and two or three hundred decamped immediately. The chiefs insisted on a general retreat, and no arguments could prevail on them to remain. In a short time the whole camp was in confusion, and St. Leger was obliged to move off so precipitately, that fifty-nine tents were left standing, and various articles of baggage and camp equipage were scattered in every direction. The faithless savages, not contented to desert their friends, seized the opportunity to steal and plunder whatever came in their way.

Cuyler concealed himself and got safely into the fort.

Thus was raised the siege of Fort Schuyler, and thus terminated St. Leger's expedition, from which great advantages had been expected by the British government in aid of General Bur-goyne. Almost immediately after sending to Gates for a reinforcement, Arnold resolved to march forward with such troops as he had; and the news of St. Leger's retreat met him twenty-two miles from the fort. This movement, which was reported by the scouts, gave credit to the exaggerated statements of the messengers. He advanced to the fort, where he continued but a short time, and then returned to General Gates's army, having been absent twenty days. Colonel Gansevoort, who commanded at Fort Schuyler, sustained the siege with firmness and bravery. Lieutenant-Colonel Willett, the second in command, distinguished himself in a sortie from the garrison, and by other acts of military enterprise, which, the British Annual Register said, merited the praise even of an enemy.

The left wing of Gates's army was now at Loudon's Ferry, on the south bank of the Mohawk River, five miles above its confluence with the Hudson. The command at that post was assigned to Arnold. Two brigades and Morgan's battalion of riflemen were stationed there, to prevent General Burgoyne from crossing the Mohawk, should his march be continued thus far towards Albany. This event, however, was not destined to happen. The fatal defeat at Bennington, and the entire failure of the western expedition, had weakened his strength, depressed his hopes, and taught him caution. He lingered at Saratoga, and the American army, elated by their good fortune and encouraged by the reviving spirit of the country, retraced their steps and encamped on Behmus's Heights.

In this encampment Arnold still retained the left division of the army, consisting of the same regiments as at Loudon's Ferry. On the morning of the 19th of September, seven days after the camp had been formed, intelligence was brought that parties of the enemy were advancing within two or three miles of the lines. Arnold expressed his opinion to General Gates, that troops should march out and attack them; and he accordingly received orders to send Morgan's riflemen and Dearborn's light infantry, and to support them if necessary. An action was brought on, which lasted from half past twelve o'clock till night, and was fought wholly by detachments from Arnold's division, except one regiment only from another brigade. Wilkinson says, that no general officer was on the field of battle during the day; but when, towards evening, Gates and Arnold were together in the front of the camp, and Colonel Lewis came in from the scene of action and stated that its progress was undecisive, Arnold exclaimed, "I will soon put an end to it," and set off in a full gallop from the camp. Under the apprehension that he would do some rash thing, as Wilkinson goes on to say, Gates despatched an officer after him and ordered him back. It thus appears, that he was neither ordered out, nor permitted to go out, to take any part in the action. To a man, whose element was fighting, and whose ambition for military glory was equalled only by his bravery in acquiring it, this check upon his aspirations must have been keenly felt, whatever motives for imposing it may have actuated his superior in command.

A serious misunderstanding arose at this time between Gates and Arnold, which several circumstances conspired to foment. In the first place, a part of Arnold's division was withdrawn without his knowledge, and he was put in the ridiculous light, as he called it, of presuming to give orders, which were contravened by the general orders of the commander-in-chief. This is supposed to have been owing to the officious interference of Wilkinson, who was adjutant-general to the army, and who insisted on the returns of a part of Arnold's division being made directly to him, and influenced Gates to sustain his demand, which was done in general orders, without giving notice to Arnold. Again, it was ascertained, that in his official communication to Congress, respecting the battle, Gates had said nothing of Arnold or his division, but merely stated that the action was fought by detachments from the army. Arnold complained of this neglect as ungenerous, not more in regard to himself than to the troops under his immediate command. "Had my division behaved ill," said he, "the other division of the army would have thought it extremely hard to have been amenable for their conduct." High words and harsh language passed between the two generals, and Gates went so far as to tell Arnold, that he thought him of little consequence in the army, that when General Lincoln arrived he should take away his command of a division, and that he was ready to give him a pass to leave the camp whenever he pleased.

A correspondence followed; haughty and arrogant on the part of Gates, intemperate and indiscreet on that of Arnold. The latter demanded a pass for himself and suite to join General Washington. It was granted; but he changed his mind when he had taken time for reflection, rightly perceiving the hazard to which he would subject his reputation by voluntarily retiring from the army when another action might be hourly expected. He remained, although deprived of his command, and without any employment in the camp. Gates took the division under his own immediate charge, General Lincoln in the meantime being put in command of the right wing.

Which party in the dispute was the most blamable, it would be difficult now to decide. That Gates was overbearing is certain; that Arnold was Impetuous and presuming may as little be doubted. He probably relied too much on the professions of friendship, and acts of indulgence, which the same commander had manifested in his favor the year before at Ticonderoga. There is room to believe, also, that a spice of jealousy mingled with Gates's feelings on this occasion. Colonel Varick, writing from camp to General Schuyler, three days after the action, said, "He seems to be piqued, that Arnold's division had the honor of beating the enemy on the 19th. This I am certain of, that Arnold has all the credit of the action. And this I further know, that Gates asked where the troops were going, when Scammell's battalion marched out, and, upon being told, he declared no more troops should go; he would not suffer the camp to be exposed. Had Gates complied with Arnold's repeated desires, he would have obtained a general and complete victory over the enemy. But it is evident to me, he never intended to fight Bur-goyne, till Arnold urged, begged, and entreated him to do it." After the convention of Saratoga, Colonel Varick again wrote as follows in a letter from Albany. "During Burgoyne's stay here, he gave Arnold great credit for his bravery and military abilities, especially in the action of the 19th, whenever he spoke of him, and once in the presence of Gates." From this testimony it may be inferred, that the causes of the quarrel did not grow altogether out of the relations of rank in which the two parties stood to each other. Personal motives had their full share of influence at least with one, and perhaps with both.

When the second battle of Behmus's Heights commenced, on the 7th of October, Arnold, having no command, was discovered to be in a state of high excitement and apparent irritation. He continued in camp for some time, but at length, without instructions or permission, rode off in a full gallop to the field of battle. This being told to Gates, he sent Major Armstrong after him with orders. As soon as Arnold saw Armstrong, anticipating the purport of his message, and doubtless remembering the peremptory order to return while on his way out to the former action, he put spurs to his horse and quickened his speed. Armstrong pursued, tracing the erratic movements of Arnold, and keeping up the chase for half an hour, without being able to approach near enough to speak to him. And in fact, Arnold received no orders during the day, but rode about the field in every direction, seeking the hottest parts of the action, and issuing his commands wherever he went.

Being the highest officer in rank, that appeared on the field, his orders were obeyed when practicable; but all accounts agree, that his conduct was rash in the extreme, indicating rather the frenzy of a madman, than the considerate wisdom of an experienced general. He threw himself heedlessly into the most exposed situations, brandishing his sword in the air, animating his troops, and urging them forward. But the brilliant manouvre with which the engagement was closed, the assault of the enemy's works and driving the Hessians from their encampment, was undoubtedly owing in the first case to Arnold. He gave the order, and by his personal bravery set an example to the troops, which inspired them with ardor and hurried them onward. He was shot through the leg whilst riding gallantly into the sally-port, and his horse fell dead under him. The success of the assault was complete, and crowned the day with victory.

It is a curious fact, that an officer, who really had no command in the army, was the leader in one of the most spirited and important battles of the revolution. His madness, or rashness, or whatever it may be called, resulted most fortunately for himself. The wound he received, at the moment of rushing into the very arms of danger and of death, added fresh lustre to his military glory, and was a new claim to public favor and applause. In the heat of the action he struck an officer on the head with his sword, an indignity and offence, which might justly have been retaliated on the spot in the most fatal manner. The officer forbore; and the next day, when he demanded redress, Arnold declared his entire ignorance of the act, and expressed his regret. Some persons ascribed his wild temerity to intoxication, but Major Armstrong, who assisted in removing him from the field, was satisfied that this was not true. Others said he took opium. This is conjecture, unsustained by proofs of any kind, and consequently improbable. His vagaries may perhaps be sufficiently explained by the extraordinary circumstances of wounded pride, anger, and desperation, in which he was placed. Gates was not on the field, nor indeed did he leave his encampment during either of the battles of Behmus's Heights.

Disabled by his wound, the bone of the leg being fractured, General Arnold was removed to Albany, where he stayed throughout the winter confined to his room. Congress relented, though with an ill grace at so late an hour, and authorized General Washington to send him a commission giving him the full rank he had claimed. This was accompanied with a letter in which Washington said, "As soon as your situation will permit, I request you will repair to this army, it being my earnest wish to have your services the ensuing campaign. In hopes of this, I have set you down in an arrangement now under consideration, and for a command, which, I trust, will be agreeable to yourself and of great advantage to the public." Early in the spring he went to Middletown in Connecticut, where he spent a month or two, and then proceeded to New Haven. His entrance into that town was marked with honorable demonstrations of respect for his military character. Several Continental and militia officers, a company under arms, and many of the citizens, went out to meet him on the road, and his arrival was announced by thirteen discharges of cannon.

While at New Haven he received from General Washington a set of epaulettes and a sword-knot, with a letter stating that they were presented "as a testimony of sincere regard and approbation of his conduct." A gentleman in France had sent to General Washington three sets of epaulettes and sword-knots, requesting him to retain one for himself, and bestow the others on any gentlemen he might choose. The third set was given to General Lincoln.