Ineffectual Attempts to procure the Release of Major AndrÉ.—His Execution.—The Captors of AndrÉ.—Joshua H. Smith.—Captain Nathan Hale.

Notwithstanding the equity of the sentence against AndrÉ, and the irresistible testimony upon which it was founded, his rank and character excited so lively an interest in every breast, and there were so many extenuating circumstances connected with the manner in which he had been seduced into the snare, that the voice of humanity pleaded loudly in his behalf, and the sternest advocate for justice could not regard his impending fate without regret, or a wish that it might be averted. No one was more deeply impressed with these feelings than Washington; and his anxiety was the greater, as the final determination of punishment or acquittal must rest with him. Washington never shrunk from a public duty, yet his heart was humane, and his mind revolted at the thought of being the agent in an act, which wounded his sensibility, although impelled by the laws of war, a sense of right, and an approving conscience. The treachery of Arnold had been so atrocious, so unexpected and artfully contrived, and the example was so dangerous, that the most signal punishment was necessary, not more as a retribution due to the crime, and a terror to others, who might harbor similar designs, than as a proof to the people, that their cause was not to be left to the mercy of traitors, nor sacrificed with impunity.

In this view of the subject, the only one in which it could be regarded by wisdom, prudence, or patriotism, there was but one possible mode of saving AndrÉ; and that was to exchange him for Arnold, who should himself be held responsible for the criminal transactions, which had originated with him, and in which he had been the chief actor. That the enemy would give him up was hardly to be expected, nor could a formal proposition of that kind be advanced; yet there was no reason why the opportunity should not be offered, or at least why it should not be intimated to them, that in such an event AndrÉ would be released. To effect this object the following plan was adopted.

Washington sent for Captain Aaron Ogden, whom he informed that he had selected him to carry despatches to the British post at Paulus Hook, which were to be conveyed thence across the river to New York. After putting the packet of papers into his hands, and giving him some general directions as to the mode of arranging the escort, so that it should consist of men whose fidelity could be relied upon, and who should make a good appearance, he told Ogden to call on the Marquis de Lafayette for additional instructions.

This was on the 30th of September, the day after the examination of AndrÉ, and the packet intrusted to Ogden contained his letter to Sir Henry Clinton, and that mentioned above from Washington to the same commander. Lafayette was at the head of the Light Infantry, who were stationed in advance of the army towards the enemy's lines. He instructed Ogden so to contrive his march, that he should arrive at Paulus Hook so late in the day, that he would be asked to stay all night. He was then to seek a favorable moment to communicate to the commandant of the post, or some of the principal officers, as if incidentally, the idea about exchanging AndrÉ for Arnold.

Thus prepared, Ogden set off with a suitable escort, and at a convenient hour arrived at the outposts near Paulus Hook. He was there stopped, and the officer proposed to detain him, till the despatches were sent in and an answer returned. Captain Ogden assured him, that he had express orders to deliver the packet into the hands of the principal officer of the post, and upon this representation he was allowed to pass. The commandant was courteous, received the packet, and immediately sent it by an express across the river to New York.

Captain Ogden was politely asked to take supper with the officers; and when the evening was far advanced and the boat did not come back, he was invited to remain through the night. The conversation turned upon AndrÉ, and the commandant inquired whether he thought Washington would consent to his execution. Ogden replied, that he undoubtedly would, that the army expected it, and the nature of the offence rendered it necessary; and, whatever might be his private feelings, and however painful the task, he would not hesitate to do his duty promptly, when required by justice and the laws of war, and when the vital interests of his country were at stake. The commandant asked, if there was no way of preventing such a catastrophe. "Yes," replied Ogden, "it is in the power of Sir Henry Clinton to do it. If he will deliver up Arnold into the hands of the Americans, and take AndrÉ in exchange, the prisoner may have a speedy rescue." Ogden was then asked whether he had authority for such a declaration. "I have no such assurance from General Washington," said he, "but I am prepared to say, that if such a proposal were to be made, I believe it would be accepted, and Major AndrÉ set at liberty." Upon this hint the officer left the company, crossed the river, had an interview with Sir Henry Clinton, and returned before morning. He told Captain Ogden, that such a thing could not be done; that to give up a man, who had deserted from the enemy, and openly espoused the King's cause, was such a violation of honor and every military principle, that Sir Henry Clinton would not listen to the idea for a moment.

The despatch-boat came back, and Ogden prepared at the dawn of day for his departure. On mustering his men, it was discovered, that the sergeant of the escort was missing, and it was supposed he had deserted to the enemy during the night. Having no time for search, Ogden hastened to General Washington's camp, and delivered the packet he had brought. *

* This desertion of the sergeant was a stratagem of Washington unknown to Captain Ogden at the time. A paper had been intercepted, in which was found the name of one of the American major-generals, connected in such a manner with other particulars, as to excite a suspicion, that he was concerned in Arnold's treason. It was extremely important, that this point should be ascertained; and the sergeant was prevailed upon to desert, and act as a spy in New York to gain intelligence of a certain kind, and from certain sources. The stratagem was successful, and the intelligence sent out by the sergeant, in a very short time, proved incontestably that the suspicion was entirely groundless. The intercepted paper was probably designed by the enemy to fall into General Washington's hands, and to create jealousy and discord among the American officers.

The letters from AndrÉ and General Washington, and the proceedings of the board of examination, were perused with much concern by Sir Henry Clinton. He immediately assembled a council of general officers, and laid these papers before them. After maturely considering their contents, it was resolved that a deputation of three persons should proceed to the nearest American outpost, furnished with evidence to prove Major AndrÉ's innocence, and to impart information, which Sir Henry Clinton thought would place the question in a different light from that in which it had been viewed by the American board.

The persons delegated on this mission were General Robertson, Andrew Elliot, and William Smith. They were accompanied by Beverly Robinson as a witness in the case, and were fortified in their estimation, but weakened in reality, by a long explanatory and threatening letter from Arnold to General Washington. The commissioners went up the river in the Greyhound Schooner, with a flag of truce, on the 1st of October. Notice of the intended visit and its objects had been already communicated by Sir Henry Clinton to Washington; and when the vessel anchored at Dobbs's Ferry, General Greene was there, having been deputed by Washington to hold the interview in his behalf. The person sent on shore by the British commissioners brought word back, that General Robertson only would be permitted to land, and that General Greene was then in readiness to receive him.

The conference was opened by Robertson, who paid some compliments to the American general, and expressed the satisfaction he had in treating with him on an occasion so interesting to the two armies and to humanity. Greene replied, that it was necessary for them to know at the outset on what ground they stood; that he was not there in the character of an officer; that he was allowed by General Washington to meet him as a private gentleman, but that the case of an acknowledged spy admitted of no discussion. Robertson said his design was to state facts, which he hoped would have their due weight, in whatever character he might be supposed to speak.

He then entered largely into the subject, endeavoring to show, first, that AndrÉ landed under the sanction of a flag; secondly, that he acted wholly by the directions of Arnold; from both of which positions it was inferred, that he could not in any just sense of the word be regarded as a spy. The facts having all been examined by the board of officers, and been well understood, this new statement of them made no change in Greene's opinion or impressions; and when Arnold's testimony was introduced, he said the Americans would believe AndrÉ in preference to Arnold. General Robertson said, that no military tribunal in Europe would decide the case of AndrÉ to be that of a spy, and he proposed to refer the question to Count de Rochambeau and General Knyphausen. Other considerations were urged by him, not so much in the way of argument, as on the score of reciprocal benefits and humanity. He added, that he should confide in General Greene's candor to represent in the fairest light to General Washington the arguments he had used; that he should stay on board all night, and hoped in the morning to take back with him Major AndrÉ, or an assurance of his safety.

In Robertson's despatch to Sir Henry Clinton, containing the particulars of the conference, he said it was intimated to him by Greene, that, if AndrÉ were set free, it would be expected that Arnold should be given up. Robertson professed to have replied to this intimation only by a look of indignant rebuke.

The letter from Arnold to General Washington, written to aid the negotiation of the commissioners, was extraordinary, considering the purpose it was intended to answer. After expressing his "grateful acknowledgments and thanks" for the kindness shown to Mrs. Arnold, and attempting to screen AndrÉ from blame by taking the responsibility of his deeds upon himself, and declaring that he "had an undoubted right to transact all those matters," he concludes in a style of hardened impudence and malignity, that, even when coming from such a source, must be regarded with astonishment.

"If, after this just and candid representation of Major Andre's case," said he, "the board of general officers adhere to their former opinion, I shall suppose it dictated by passion and resentment; and if that gentleman should suffer the severity of their sentence, I shall think myself bound by every tie of duty and honor to retaliate on such unhappy persons of your army as may fall within my power, that the respect due to flags, and to the law of nations, may be better understood and observed.

"If this warning should be disregarded, and he suffer, I call Heaven and earth to witness, that your Excellency will be justly answerable for the torrent of blood, that may be spilt in consequence."

It is hardly possible that this letter could have been seen by Sir Henry Clinton, although written at his request, with the view of operating on the judgment and clemency of Washington. Could any language, uttered by any individual, have a more opposite tendency? Disgust and contempt were the only emotions it could excite; and it was at least an evidence, that neither the understanding nor the heart of the writer had been improved by his political change. Hitherto he had discovered acuteness and mental resource, but in this act his folly was commensurate with his wickedness. At the same time he performed the farce of resigning his commission, as an officer in the American service, and wrote to General Washington, "I beg leave to assure your Excellency, that my attachment to the true interests of my country is invariable, and that I am actuated by the same principle, which has ever been the governing rule of my conduct in this unhappy contest." Setting aside the hypocrisy of this declaration, it is perhaps fair to interpret it in its literal sense, and to believe, that he had always confounded patriotism with selfishness, and the interests of his country with the aims of a mercenary ambition.

The British commissioners waited till morning, as General Robertson had proposed, and at an early hour they received a note from General Greene, stating that he had communicated to Washington the substance of the conference, but that it had produced no change in his opinion and determination. This intelligence was astounding to Robertson; for he had written to Sir Henry Clinton the evening before, that he was persuaded AndrÉ would not be harmed. How he got this impression is not easily discovered, since he represented General Greene as obstinately bent on considering AndrÉ as a spy, and resisting all his arguments to the contrary.

Nothing more could be done by the commissioners. That no measure might be left untried, however, General Robertson wrote a letter to Washington, containing a summary of the topics he had discussed at the conference, and assigned as a reason for sending it, that he feared General Greene's memory might have failed him in some particulars, and he wished the merits of so important a case to be presented with all the clearness and force it deserved. This letter could have produced no effect, even if it had not arrived too late; for it touched upon no points, which had not already been examined and decided. The commissioners returned to New York.

While in confinement at Tappan, both before and after his sentence, AndrÉ had shown the greatest composure, and the same serenity of temper and winning gentleness of manners, that had been conspicuous in his conversation and deportment from the time he was taken. His regimentals had been brought from New York by his servant, after his arrival at Tappan, and he appeared in the full dress of a British officer. Colonel Hamilton, in his beautiful and pathetic letter to Colonel Laurens, respecting the capture and death of AndrÉ, has described an incident in his conduct on this occasion, which would add lustre to his name, even if it were not adorned by genius, magnanimity, and honor.

"In one of the visits I made to him," said Hamilton, "(and I saw him several times during his confinement,) he begged me to be the bearer of a request to the General, for permission to send an open letter to Sir Henry Clinton. 'I foresee my fate,' said he, 'and though I pretend not to play the hero, or to be indifferent about life, yet I am reconciled to whatever may happen, conscious that misfortune, not guilt, has brought it upon me. There is only one thing that disturbs my tranquillity. Sir Henry Clinton has been too good to me; he has been lavish of his kindness; I am bound to him by too many obligations, and love him too well, to bear the thought that he should reproach himself, or others should reproach him, on the supposition of my having conceived myself obliged, by his instructions, to run the risk I did. I would not, for the world, leave a sting in his mind that should embitter his future days.' He could scarce finish the sentence, bursting into tears, in spite of his efforts to suppress them, and with difficulty collected himself enough afterwards to add, 'I wish to be permitted to assure him, I did not act under this impression, but submitted to a necessity imposed upon me, as contrary to my own inclination, as to his orders.' His request was readily complied with, and he wrote the letter annexed, with which I dare say you will be as much pleased as I am, both for the sentiment and diction."

This letter was the same that has been inserted above, and its contents accord in every respect with the delicacy of feeling and warmth of gratitude here expressed towards his benefactor.

When the sentence of the board was announced to AndrÉ, he manifested no surprise or concern, having evidently been prepared by his own reflections for this result. He remarked only, that, since he was to die, "there was still a choice in the mode, which would make a material difference in his feelings." It was his wish to die the death of a soldier, and he requested that he might be shot. The application was renewed in a letter addressed to General Washington.

"Tappan, 1 October, 1780.

"Sir,

"Buoyed above the terror of death, by the consciousness of a life devoted to honorable pursuits, and stained with no action that can give me remorse, I trust that the request I make to your Excellency at this serious period, and which is to soften my last moments, will not be rejected.

"Sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce your Excellency, and a military tribunal, to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a man of honor.

"Let me hope, Sir, that if aught in my character impresses you with esteem towards me, if aught in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of policy and not of resentment, I shall experience the operation of these feelings in your breast, by being informed that I am not to die on a gibbet.

"I have the honor to be your Excellency's most obedient and most humble servant,

"JOHN ANDRÉ."

The indulgence here solicited, in terms as manly as they are persuasive and touching, could not be granted consistently with the customs of war. Such, at least, was the opinion of Washington and of the officers he consulted. No answer was returned either to the first application or to the letter, it being deemed more humane to evade a reply, than to cause the painful sensations, which a positive refusal would inflict. *

* There is still in existence a curious memorial both of the person of Major AndrÉ, and of his tranquillity and self-possession, during this period of trial and solemn anticipation. In the midst of the sombre thoughts, which must have thronged upon his mind, he resorted to the art, which had given him so much delight, when all the opening prospects of life were gilded with hope and gladness. The following is an extract from a letter, written by Mr. Ebenezer Baldwin to the President of Yale College, and dated at New Haven, August 8th, 1832.

"It affords me pleasure, as the agent of Mr. Jabez L. Tomlinson of Stratford, and of Mr. Nathan Beers of this city, to request your acceptance of the accompanying miniature of Major John AndrÉ. It is his likeness seated at a table in his guard-room, and drawn by himself with a pen, on the morning of the day fixed for his execution. Mr. Tomlinson informs me, that a respite was granted until the next day, and that this miniature was in the mean time presented to him (then acting as officer of the guard) by Major AndrÉ himself Mr. Tomlinson was present when the sketch was made, and says it was drawn without the aid of a glass. The sketch subsequently passed into the hands of Mr. Beers, a fellow-officer of Mr. Tomlinson on the station, and from thence was transferred to me. It has been in my possession several years."

The original drawing is now in the Trumbull Gallery at Yale College. It bears a strong resemblance to an engraved head of AndrÉ printed in England, and the likeness may be presumed to approach as near to accuracy, as is usual in miniatures of the same size; more especially as AndrÉ was accustomed to draw similar sketches of himself for his friends.

The time for the execution was at first fixed at five o'clock in the afternoon of the day, on which Greene had the interview with Robertson, and it was thus published in the general orders.

But the length of that negotiation caused the execution to be deferred till the next day, October 2d, at twelve o'clock.

The particulars of this event will be here related in the language of Dr. Thacher, who was an eye-witness and evidently a close observer, and who has described what he saw with a precision and force, which bear the stamp of accuracy and present a vivid picture of the scene.

"The principal guard-officer, who was constantly in the room with the prisoner, relates, that when the hour of his execution was announced to him in the morning, he received it without emotion, and, while all present were affected with silent gloom, he retained a firm countenance, with calmness and composure of mind. Observing his servant enter the room in tears, he exclaimed, 'Leave me till you can show yourself more manly.' His breakfast being sent to him from the table of General Washington, which had been done every day of his confinement, he partook of it as usual, and having shaved and dressed himself, he placed his hat on the table, and cheerfully said to the guard-officers, 'I am ready at any moment, Gentlemen, to wait on you.' The fatal hour having arrived, a large detachment of troops was paraded, and an immense concourse of people assembled; almost all our general and field officers, excepting his Excellency and his staff, were present on horseback; melancholy and gloom pervaded all ranks; the scene was affecting and awful.

"I was so near during the solemn march to the fatal spot, as to observe every movement and participate in every emotion, which the melancholy scene was calculated to produce. Major AndrÉ walked from the stone house, in which he had been confined, between two of our subaltern officers, arm in arm; the eyes of the immense multitude were fixed on him, who, rising superior to the fear of death, appeared as if conscious of the dignified deportment which he displayed. He betrayed no want of fortitude, but retained a complacent smile on his countenance, and politely bowed to several gentlemen whom he knew, which was respectfully returned. It was his earnest desire to be shot, as being the mode of death most conformable to the feelings of a military man, and he had indulged the hope that his request would be granted. At the moment, therefore, when suddenly he came in view of the gallows, he involuntarily started backward, and made a pause. 'Why this emotion, Sir?' said an officer by his side. Instantly recovering his composure, he said, 'I am reconciled to my death, but I detest the mode.'

"While waiting and standing near the gallows, I observed some degree of trepidation; placing his foot on a stone, and rolling it over, and choking in his throat, as if attempting to swallow. So soon, however, as he perceived that things were in readiness, he stepped quickly into the wagon, and at this moment he appeared to shrink, but instantly elevating his head with firmness, he said, 'It will be but a momentary pang;' and taking from his pocket two white handkerchiefs, the provost marshal with one loosely pinioned his arms, and with the other, the victim, after taking off his hat and stock, bandaged his own eyes with perfect firmness, which melted the hearts, and moistened the cheeks, not only of his servant, but of the throng of spectators. The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped the noose over his head, and adjusted it to his neck, without the assistance of the executioner. Colonel Scammell now informed him, that he had an opportunity to speak, if he desired it. 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.' The wagon being now removed from under him, he was suspended and instantly expired." *

* Thacher's Military Journal, p. 222.—In a more recent publication, entitled Observations relating to the Execution of Major AndrÉ, first printed in the New England Magazine, Dr. Thacher has added several facts illustrative of that event. Appended to the same is an interesting letter by Major Benjamin Russell, who was one of the inner guard, that attended AndrÉ to the place of execution, and walked so near him as to hear distinctly what he said. The outer guard consisted of about five hundred men; the inner guard was only a captain's command.

Throughout the whole of this scene, from the time he left the house in which he was guarded, till the last fatal moment, his demeanor was such as to excite the respect, sympathy, and sorrow of every beholder. His step was steady, his carriage easy and graceful, his countenance placid, but thoughtful and firm, indicating a solemn sense of his impending fate, and a resolution to meet it in a manner consistent with his character and the previous tenor of his conduct. He was dressed in the uniform of a British officer. When life had departed, the body was taken down and interred within a few yards of the place of execution. The coat and other regimentals were given to his servant, who faithfully attended him to the last, and saw the grave close over his mortal remains.

Such was the death of a man, whose rare accomplishments had procured for him the friendship and confidence of all to whom he was known, and opened the happiest presages of a future career of renown and glory. In ten short days his blooming hopes had been blighted, and his glowing visions dispersed. But it was his singular fortune to die, not more beloved by his friends, than lamented by his enemies, whose cause he had sought to ruin, and by whose hands his life was justly taken. Time has consecrated the feeling. There are few Americans, and few will there ever be, who can look back upon the fate of AndrÉ without deep regret. His name is embalmed in every generous heart; and they, who shall condemn his great error and applaud the sentence of his judges, will cherish a melancholy remembrance of the unfortunate victim, and grieve that a life of so much promise, adorned with so many elevated and estimable qualities, was destined to an untimely and ignominious end.

Soon after this event, when the facts had not yet become fully known or duly weighed, a few British writers allowed themselves to remark with much freedom and asperity respecting the part taken by Washington. They said the sentence was harsh, if not unjustifiable; and that, admitting it was right, humanity ought to have interposed and saved AndrÉ.

The foregoing details render it unnecessary to discuss these points, either for the purpose of establishing truths, or of vindicating the character of Washington. Let every reader reflect upon the prominent transactions, and judge for himself. Nothing more is requisite. Was AndrÉ a spy? This character he voluntarily acknowledged, both in his first letter to General Washington, and in his examination before the board of officers; that is, he confessed himself to have acted a part, which no one could possibly act, who was not a spy. He landed secretly in the night, he was concealed within the American lines, he changed his dress and appeared in disguise, he assumed a false name, he was taken while going to the enemy with papers containing intelligence.

These facts were so well attested, that the British general, in his extreme solicitude to rescue AndrÉ, did not attempt to evade or disprove them. It was the drift of his argument to show, that, notwithstanding their existence, AndrÉ could not properly be considered a spy, first, because he went ashore under a flag of truce, and secondly, because while on shore he was subject to the directions of an American general.

The first point was not accurate in any sense, either literally or theoretically. It is true, Arnold had written a paper as a passport for Smith, in which he mentioned a flag; but there was no flag, and it was in the night, when flags are not sent except on extraordinary occasions. Moreover the business was not such as could ever be sanctioned by a flag, the whole design of which is to soften the rigors of war by creating a mutual confidence between hostile armies, and thereby opening a channel for reciprocal acts of humanity. The moment this signal of peace is employed to abuse the confidence of an opposing party, by seeking to inflict an injury under the mask of friendship, the act becomes infamous. Hence the prostitution of a flag is regarded by all civilized people as one of the basest crimes. It is surprising, therefore, that the idea of a flag should have been put forward in any shape as a favorable circumstance. No such hint came from AndrÉ. On the contrary, when questioned upon the subject, he declared, in very positive terms, that he was not under the sanction of a flag.

As to the second branch of the argument, there can be no doubt, that after AndrÉ landed he was within the sphere of Arnold's command, and acted in all respects either with his knowledge or by his direction. But this did not alter the nature of his conduct. He was still in disguise, with a false name, and carrying papers of a dangerous import to the enemy. To say that he was an agent in maturing treason is not certainly to make him the less a spy. So far from it, that, if possible, the offence is aggravated by this coincidence of character and objects. It was argued, that Arnold had a right, while in command, to give such directions as he did to AndrÉ, and consequently that no law was violated in obeying them. Upon the same principle it may be said, that Arnold had a right to be a traitor, if he could bring his ends to pass by secret means and without detection. The sophistry is too shallow to need a refutation.

Although Sir Henry Clinton used these arguments in his endeavors to procure a release of AndrÉ, yet he did not recur to them in the narrative which he sent to the British government, nor complain that they had been disregarded. He stated all the facts minutely, in connexion with a copy of the correspondence, but without uttering any censure against Washington or the board of officers, and without intimating an opinion, that the sentence was unjust, or that AndrÉ could be regarded in any other light than as a spy. Had his sentiments been different, he would unquestionably have expressed them strongly on this occasion, and thrown upon his enemies the full measure of blame, which he conceived them to deserve.

In publishing this event likewise to the army in general orders, Sir Henry Clinton maintained the same reserve, concerning the mode of AndrÉas death. "The unfortunate fate of this officer," said he, "calls upon the Commander-in-chief to declare, that he ever considered Major AndrÉ a gentleman of the highest integrity and honor, and incapable of any base action or unworthy conduct." Nothing was added as to the manner of his death, nor was it even insinuated, that it had been caused by the vengeance, injustice, or any improper act of the enemy, in whose hands he suffered.

These are proofs, and more might be adduced, that the opinions of Sir Henry Clinton on this subject, namely, the light in which AndrÉ was to be held, according to the invariable laws of war and of nations, were essentially the same as those of General Washington. It is said by M. de Marbois, that Washington secretly consulted Congress respecting AndrÉ before he was examined. No formal deliberation was held upon the subject, but Congress returned as an answer, that they perceived no reason for arresting the course of justice.

The question, which is merely one of feeling and not of principle, whether AndrÉ might not have been indulged in his last request to die a military death, should be answered in reference to the state of things at that crisis, and to the motives operating on Washington's mind. Regarding the matter only in the abstract, there seems no very obvious reason why such an indulgence should have been refused. Yet, as no trait in Washington's character was more remarkable through life than his humanity, this noble quality cannot be supposed to have forsaken him on an occasion, which most deeply interested his feelings, and enlisted his sympathies on the side of the sufferer. It must be recollected, that, when AndrÉ was executed, Washington was entirely ignorant as to the extent of the conspiracy and the persons engaged in it. His fears and his suspicions were alive; and, both as an evidence that he deemed AndrÉ's punishment just, and as a terror to others who might be concerned in the plot, he believed it a duty to his office and his country to let the law take its usual course. As the event turned out, no ill consequences could have resulted from a compliance with the request of AndrÉ. Could this have been foreseen by Washington, the tenderness of his disposition, so often manifested, warrants us to believe, that no effort on his part would have been spared to soothe the dying moments of a brave and unfortunate man. *

* A monument was erected by order of the King, in Westminster Abbey, to the memory of Major AndrÉ. His remains were taken up, in the year 1821, by Mr. Buchanan, British Consul in New York, and removed to England. They were deposited in Westminster Abbey near the monument. AndrÉ died at the age of twenty-nine. As no metallic buttons were found in the grave, when the disinterment took place, it was considered a proof, that he was not buried in his regimentals. It was inferred, that he had been stripped before burial; in what manner was uncertain. Dr. Thacher has shown, in his Observations, that AndrÉ's regimentals were given to his servant.

The captors of AndrÉ were recommended by Washington to Congress, as worthy not only of thanks but of a more substantial recompense from the public. After expressing by a formal vote "a high sense of their virtuous and patriotic conduct," Congress granted to each of them an annual pension of two hundred dollars for life, and ordered a silver medal to be struck and presented to each, bearing on one side the inscription Fidelity, and on the other, Vincit Amor Patrice. These medals were given to the individuals by General Washington, at head-quarters, with some ceremony, and they were invited to dine with him on that occasion. In writing to the President of Congress, he said, "The recompense is ample; it is an evidence of the generosity of Congress, a flattering tribute to the virtue of those citizens, and must prove a powerful incitement to others to imitate their example." The country participated in this opinion, and the conduct of the captors was universally applauded.

In connexion with this statement, however, it is proper to add, that doubts have been entertained as to the original motives and designs of Paulding, Van Wart, and Williams. The representation made by AndrÉ to Major Tallmadge and Mr. Bronson was, that he first discovered these men playing at cards in the bushes near the road; that, after they had stopped him, they ripped up the housings of his saddle and the cape of his coat in search of money; but, finding none, one of the party said, "He may have it in his boots;" then they then pulled off his boots, and found the papers, which induced them to think he was a spy. Major AndrÉ was of the opinion, that, if he could have given them a small sum of money at first, they would have allowed him to pass without further molestation; but he had no other money about his person, than the paper bills given to him by Smith, and merely sufficient to pay his expenses to the city.

So strong an impression did this account make upon the mind of Major Tallmadge, and so fully was he convinced of its accuracy, and of the dubious virtue of the captors, that, thirty-seven years afterwards, when Paulding petitioned Congress for an increase of pension, he resisted the petition, (being then a member of Congress,) on the ground that the conduct of the petitioner did not deserve such a testimony of public approbation and gratitude. *

* The subject was drawn into a discussion, and several replies were made to Major Tallmadge. See a small volume entitled Vindication of the Captors of Major AndrÉ, published in New York, 1817.

May there not be a middle line between these two extremes? Was it not possible for the men to search for money, and still be true to their country, which is the only point at issue? When they stopped the traveller, the idea of a spy seems not to have occurred to them. They took him for a merchant, or a person engaged in mercantile business, not legally and openly, but in the manner practised by too many of the borderers of the neutral ground. They would naturally expect him to have money, and would search for it, especially after the confused manner in which he had spoken of himself, and since, if he was an enemy and had money, it would be theirs by the same prize-law, that afterwards assigned to them the horse, saddle, bridle, and watch. Their virtue cannot be impeached, therefore, merely on the score of their searching for money, although this incident, it must be confessed, contributes no special lustre to their motives or acts.

According to their testimony before the court at Smith's trial, they did not suspect AndrÉ of being a spy, till his boots had been pulled off and the papers discovered; nor is there any direct proof, that he offered them money to release him till after that discovery. Williams then asked him what he would give them to let him go, evidently having no other aim, than to obtain further knowledge of his character. AndrÉ offered to give any sum of money, or quantity of dry goods, that they would name. Here was the trial of their virtue. Ten thousand guineas, they said, should not tempt them to let him escape.

Major AndrÉ believed, that, when he made the offer, they would have accepted it, if he could have given any security for the fulfilment of his promise. As he could only pledge his word, and as either he or some other person in his name must go into the city and bring out the money and goods, they distrusted his ability to execute his engagement, and feared that some cross accident would in the mean time lead them into difficulty, and prevent their getting any thing. As the surest course, or the one from which they were the most likely to obtain a reward, they resolved to take him within the American lines, and deliver him up to an officer.

Such was Andre's belief, and it was perhaps favored by appearances. But all the prominent circumstances of the case are decidedly against it. Whatever the captors thought of their prisoner, they could not have imagined his real importance, nor foreseen the consequences that followed. They looked upon him as a common spy, and supposed that they would be suitably but not extravagantly rewarded for giving him up. If they were influenced only by motives of gain, it is hardly possible that they should not have been tempted by the golden offers of AndrÉ, notwithstanding the uncertainty attending them, which could not be very great, since he proposed to stay where he was, till one of them should go into the city and bring out the money and other articles. Had they known Andre's character, the affair would assume a different aspect; but, as they did not, we must look for a higher determining principle, than a mere pecuniary calculation.

The exact degree in which we are to expect patriotism and genuine public virtue in men, who stand in the same class of society and follow the same pursuits as the captors of AndrÉ, may be a question for casuistry to settle. But it will require more than the casuist's art to prove, that these men did not believe they were doing a valuable service to their country, distinct from any ulterior consideration, in committing to custody a person, whom they knew to be a spy, and who had offered them a large bribe for his release. We need not scrutinize motives too closely. The act was noble in itself, immensely important to the nation in its effects, and worthy of all praise as an example. This meed of justice let it receive from history, and from every citizen, who would by his approbation encourage instances of generous self-sacrifice for the public good.

The reader may be curious to know what became of Joshua H. Smith. We left him at Tap-pan under guard. He was tried by a court-martial, which was assembled the day after the examination of AndrÉ, and continued by adjournments for about four weeks. Many witnesses were brought before the court, among whom were Lafayette, Knox, Hamilton, Harrison, Colonel Livingston, Colonel Hay, Captain Boyd, Paulding and Williams, and the two boatmen, who went on board the Vulture. The testimony was voluminous, as written out by the judge-advocate, and formed a mass of facts developing many of the secret incidents of the conspiracy.

The charge presented against Smith ran in these words; "For aiding and assisting Benedict Arnold, late major-general in our service, in a combination with the enemy to take, kill, and seize such of the loyal citizens or soldiers of these United States, as were in garrison at West Point and its dependencies." Smith drew up in writing a long defence, which he read to the court, and in which he first objected to its jurisdiction, saying that, being a citizen and not a soldier, he could not properly be subject to a military tribunal; he then summed up the evidence with considerable ability, and argued his cause. He was acquitted by the court.

That he had aided and assisted Arnold there was no doubt; this he confessed before the trial; but it was not proved by the evidence, that he had any knowledge of Arnold's traitorous designs. Considering the part he performed, this was extraordinary; but the court were fully justified in their decision. Some points in Smith's conduct, however, were never cleared up, especially his refusing to go back with AndrÉ to the Vulture. The reason he assigned was improbable, and his attempts at an explanation only threw a deeper shade over his candor. Although no one would be willing to condemn Smith, upon the testimony adduced to the court, yet whoever reads it will be satisfied, that he could not have fallen into such extreme stupidity, as not to suspect something wrong in the business he was engaged in carrying on. Nor is it easy to imagine how a man of his intelligence and character could have been made a passive tool, even in the hands of so artful a hyprocrite as Arnold, for effecting purposes obviously of great moment, concerning which he was not allowed to have any knowledge.

These impressions are strengthened by Smith's book, which he published many years afterwards in England, evidently with a copy before him of all the written testimony produced to the court at his trial; and in which he utters innumerable assertions widely different from the testimony itself and from his original defence, mingled with severe and bitter reflections upon several of the witnesses. *

* The book is entitled An Authentic Narrative of the Causes which led to the Death of Major AndrÉ. London. 1808.—Whether from a defect of memory in the author, or from whatever reason, needs not be inquired; but as a work of history this volume is not worthy of the least credit, except where the statements are confirmed by other authority.

But, after all, it would be unjust to charge Smith with positive guilt without farther proof; as it is impossible to believe him entirely innocent, without a more satisfactory explanation of his conduct than has yet appeared.

The papers of the court-martial were read by Washington, and then transmitted to Governor Clinton, that Smith might be tried by a civil process under the laws of the State of New York, should such a course be deemed advisable. He was sent to West Point and released from military arrest, but he was immediately taken into custody by the civil authority of the state, and confined in the jail at Goshen. After remaining there several months without any trial, he found means to escape, and passed through the country, sometimes disguised in a woman's dress, to Paulus Hook and New York. At the close of the war he went to England.

Mrs. Arnold resolved to share the lot of her husband. She visited her friends at Philadelphia, and joined him in New York about the middle of November. In her travels through the country, she was everywhere treated with a respect and forbearance hardly to have been expected in the exasperated state of public feeling, which then prevailed; a proof, that, although unfortunate in her alliance with a traitor, she was not considered guilty of participating in his crimes. It is related by M. de Marbois, as a remarkable instance of moderation in the people, that, when on her journey she had stopped at a village to pass the night, where the inhabitants were preparing to burn her husband in effigy, they suspended the execution of their design till the next night, out of delicacy to her sex and situation. It is also said, that, when she entered her carriage in open day to go and join Arnold in the midst of the enemies of his country, no symptoms were exhibited of the detestation in which his name was held even by the lowest populace. This was the more worthy of notice, as his effigy had recently been paraded through the streets of Philadelphia with every mark of infamy, and every demonstration of resentment and contempt.

The case of Captain Nathan Hale has been regarded as parallel to that of Major AndrÉ. This young officer was a graduate of Yale College, and had but recently closed his academic course when the war of the revolution commenced. Possessing genius, taste, and ardor, he became distinguished as a scholar; and, endowed in an eminent degree with those graces and gifts of nature which add a charm to youthful excellence, he gained universal esteem and confidence.

To high moral worth and irreproachable habits were joined gentleness of manners, an ingenuous disposition, and vigor of understanding. No young man of his years put forth a fairer promise of future usefulness and celebrity; the fortunes of none were fostered more sincerely by the generous good wishes of his associates, or the hopes and encouraging presages of his superiors.

Being a patriot upon principle, and an enthusiast in a cause, which appealed equally to his sense of justice and love of liberty, he was among the first to take up arms in his country's defence. The news of the battle of Lexington roused his martial spirit, and called him immediately to the field. He obtained a commission in the army, and marched with his company to Cambridge. His promptness, activity, and assiduous attention to discipline, were early observed. He prevailed upon his men to adopt a simple uniform, which improved their appearance, attracted notice, and procured applause. The example was followed by others, and its influence was beneficial. Nor were his hours wholly absorbed by his military duties. A rigid economy of time enabled him to gratify his zeal for study and mental culture.

At length the theatre of action was changed, and the army was removed to the southward. The battle of Long Island was fought, and the American forces were drawn together in the city of New York. At this moment it was extremely important for Washington to know the situation of the British army on the heights of Brooklyn, its numbers, and the indications as to its future movements. Having confidence in the discretion and judgment of the gallant Colonel Knowlton, who commanded a Connecticut regiment of infantry, he explained his wishes to that officer, and requested him to ascertain if any suitable person could be found in his regiment, who would undertake so hazardous and responsible a service. It was essential, that he should be a man of capacity, address, and military knowledge.

Colonel Knowlton assembled several of his officers, stated to them the views and desires of the General, and left the subject to their reflections, without proposing the enterprise to any individual. The officers then separated. Captain Hale considered deliberately what had been said, and finding himself by a sense of duty inclined to the undertaking, he called at the quarters of his intimate friend, Captain Hull (afterwards General Hull), and asked his opinion. Hull endeavored to dissuade him from the service, as not befitting his rank in the army, and as being of a kind for which his openness of character disqualified him; adding that no glory could accrue from success, and a detection would inevitably be followed by an ignominious death.

Captain Hale replied, that all these considerations had been duly weighed, that "every kind of service necessary to the public good was honorable by being necessary," that he did not accept a commission for the sake of fame alone or personal advancement, that he had been for some time in the army without being able to render any signal aid to the cause of his country, and that he felt impelled by high motives of duty not to shrink from the opportunity now presented.

The arguments of his friend were unavailing, and Captain Hale passed over to Long Island in disguise. He had gained the desired information, and was just on the point of stepping into a boat to return to the city of New York, when he was arrested and taken before the British commander. Like AndrÉ, he had assumed a character, which he could not sustain; he was "too little accustomed to duplicity to succeed." The proof against him was so conclusive, that he made no effort at self-defence, but frankly confessed his objects; and, again like AndrÉ, without further remarks "left the facts to operate with his judges." He was sentenced to be executed as a spy, and was accordingly hanged the next morning.

The sentence was conformable to the laws of war, and the prisoner was prepared to meet it with a fortitude becoming his character. But the circumstances of his death aggravated his sufferings, and placed him in a situation widely different from that of AndrÉ. The facts were narrated to General Hull by an officer of the British commissary department, who was present at the execution, and deeply moved by the conduct and fate of the unfortunate victim, and the treatment he received. The provost-martial, to whose charge he was consigned, was a refugee, and behaved towards him in the most unfeeling manner; refusing the attendance of a clergyman and the use of a bible, and destroying the letters he had written to his mother and friends.

In the midst of these barbarities, Hale was calm, collected, firm; pitying the malice that could insult a fallen foe and dying man, but displaying to the last his native elevation of soul, dignity of deportment, and an undaunted courage. Alone, unfriended, without consolation or sympathy, he closed his mortal career with the declaration, "that he only lamented he had but one life to lose for his country." When AndrÉ stood upon the scaffold, he called on all around him to bear witness, that he died like a brave man. The dying words of Hale embodied a nobler and more sublime sentiment; breathing a spirit of satisfaction, that, although brought to an untimely end, it was his lot to die a martyr in his country's cause. The whole tenor of his conduct, and this declaration itself, were such proofs of his bravery, that it required not to be more audibly proclaimed. The following tribute is from the muse of Dr. Dwight.

"Thus, while fond virtue wished in vain to save,

Hale, bright and generous, found a hapless grave;

With genius' living flame his bosom glowed,

And science charmed him to her sweet abode;

In worth's fair path his feet adventured far,

The pride of peace, the rising grace of war."

There was a striking similarity between the character and acts of Hale and AndrÉ, but in one essential point of difference the former appears to much the greater advantage. Hale was promised no reward, nor did he expect any. It was necessary, that the service should be undertaken from purely virtuous motives, without a hope of gain or of honor; because it was of a nature not to be executed by the common class of spies, who are influenced by pecuniary considerations; and promotion could not be offered as an inducement, since that would be a temptation for an officer to hazard his life as a spy, which a commander could not with propriety hold out. Viewed in any light, the act must be allowed to bear unequivocal marks of patriotic disinterestedness and self-devotion. But AndrÉ had a glorious prize before him; the chance of distinguishing himself in a military enterprise, honors, renown, and every allurement, that could flatter hope and stimulate ambition. To say the least, his personal advantages were to be commensurate with the benefit to his country.

But whatever may have been the parallel between these two individuals while living, it ceased with their death. A monument was raised and consecrated to the memory of AndrÉ by the bounty of a grateful sovereign. His ashes have been removed from their obscure resting-place, transported across the ocean, and deposited with the remains of the illustrious dead in Westminster Abbey. Where is the memento of the virtues, the patriotic sacrifice, the early fate of Hale? It is not inscribed in marble; it is hardly recorded in books. Let it be the more deeply cherished in the hearts of his countrymen.