measure, of militia harassed by perpetual service, and obliged to neglect the cultivation of their farms and their private interests, in order to obey the calls of public duty, and of soldiers on short enlistments, who never acquired the military spirit and habits.

In consequence of an appointment, General Washington and suite set out to a conference with Count Rochambeau and Admiral Ternay, and, on the 21st of

September, met them at Hartford in Connecticut, where they spent a few days together, and conversed about a plan for the next campaign.

The season was now far advanced: no action of importance had been achieved on the Hudson by either party, and the campaign in that quarter seemed about to close without anything remarkable, when both armies were suddenly roused, and the public mind both in Europe and America much agitated, by the execution of Major André.

In the early part of August, when General Washington meditated an attack on New York, he proposed that General Arnold should have a command in the enterprise. That Arnold declined; alleging that his lameness disqualified him for field duty. General Washington knew him to be a selfish man; but, having no suspicion of his infidelity to the American cause, for which he had professed so much zeal and made so many exertions, appointed him at his own desire, to the command of West Point and its dependancies, a most important post on the Hudson. Of the highland posts on that river General Washington was extremely jealous, and exerted himself to prevent the British from establishing a communication between Canada and New York by the lakes Champlain and George, and the river Hudson. West Point was considered a principal key of that communication; and, by the appointment to the command of it, Arnold was put into a place of high trust and confidence.

But that officer, impetuous and desperate rather than cool and intrepid, and governed more by the violence of his passions than the dictates of his understanding, had secretly determined to abandon and betray the American cause; and entered into negotiations with the British commander-in-chief for that purpose. The surrender of West Point, he was well aware, would gratify his new

friends; and he wished to inflict a deadly wound on his old associates, whom he hated the more because he intended to betray them. Ambitious and selfish, fond of ostentation and magnificence, his expenditure had exceeded his income; and, in order to supply his extravagance, he had engaged in trade and privateering. His speculations proved unsuccessful; his funds were exhausted; and his creditors became clamorous. About the month of July, 1779, he presented heavy accounts against the public, but the commissioners rejected about one half of his demands; he appealed to congress; but a committee of that body reported that the commissioners had allowed him more than he had any right to demand or expect. Irritated and inflamed by this treatment, embarrassed in his circumstances, and encumbered with an expensive family, he resolved to raise a fortune on the ruins of his character, and to commit the foulest treason in order to gratify at once his ambition and revenge.

In the course of the year 1779, Major André, adjutant-general of the British

army, a young officer of distinguished talents and acquirements, had entered into a correspondence with Mrs. Arnold, on pretence of supplying her with millinery goods that correspondence ripened into treason on the part of Arnold. After his nomination to the command of West Point, the Vulture sloop-of-war was stationed by Sir Henry Clinton in the North river, at such a distance from the American works as to excite no suspicion, but near enough to facilitate the correspondence which was carrying on. Before that time there had been a written correspondence, through other channels, between Arnold and André, under the assumed names of Gustavus and Anderson. In order to bring the negotiation to a speedy close, Arnold wished Sir Henry Clinton to send a confidential person to hold a conference with him; unhappily the amiable and accomplished André was selected for the consummation of a work in which he was already too much implicated.

On the night of the 21st of September, a boat sent by Arnold carried André from the Vulture, and landed him on the bank of the river, where he met Arnold without the American posts. The day was about to dawn before the negotiation was finished; and André was told that it was necessary he should remain con

cealed till next night; for that purpose he was conducted within the American lines, contrary to his previous stipulation and intention, and without his knowl edge. He spent the day with Arnold. Next night the boatmen refused to carry him back to the Vulture, because she had shifted her ground in order to be beyond the reach of a cannon which had been mounted to annoy her; and he was obliged to attempt an escape by land. He now changed his uniform, which he had hitherto worn under a surtout, for a common coat; and having procured a horse, was, under the name of John Anderson, furnished with a passport by Arnold to go to the lines at White Plains, or lower if he thought proper, as he was on public business.

Thus equipped, André set out alone, and proceeded on his journey toward New York. He passed the American guards and posts on the road without suspicion; but Arnold had a scouting party, chiefly militia, scouring the country between the outposts of the two armies. As André prosecuted his journey next day, and flattered himself that all danger was past, a man suddenly sprang from a covert and seized his horse's bridle. Surprised by the unexpected onset, the major lost his presence of mind; mistaking the man for a British partisan, instead of presenting his passport, he declared himself a British officer, and asked permission to proceed: but two other militia-men coming up at the moment, the party refused to let him go, though he offered them the most tempting rewards. They conducted him to Colonel Jamieson, the officer commanding the scouting party, before whom he appeared as John Anderson; choosing rather to encounter every hazard, than, by a disclosure of his real character, to involve Arnold in jeopardy before he had warning to provide for his safety.

André had been disconcerted, and his presence of mind had forsaken him on his sudden and unexpected seizure; but, more alive to Arnold's danger than his own, he discovered his ingenuity in procuring Jamieson's permission to give that officer notice of his apprehension. Even before that time Jamieson had entertained suspicions of Arnold's fidelity; and although those suspicions must now have been strengthened or confirmed, yet he permitted a note to be sent to Arnold, giving him notice of John Anderson's detention.

Several papers were found in one of Major André's boots, all in Arnold's handwriting, which contained an exact account of the state of West Point and its dependancies, with remarks on the works, an estimate of the number of men ordinarily on duty in the place, and a copy of the state of matters which had been laid before a council of war by the American commander-in-chief on the 6th of the month. All those papers Jamieson enclosed under cover to General Washington, with a letter from the prisoner, in which he avowed himself to be Major John André, adjutant-general of the British army, related the manner of his apprehension, and endeavored to vindicate himself from the imputation of being a spy.

General Washington was then returning from his conference with the French commanders at Hartford; and Jamieson's messenger missed him by taking a different road from that in which the general was travelling. Arnold received the notice of Anderson's detention some hours before General Washington arrived at West Point, and immediately consulted his safety by hastening on board the Vulture sloop-of-war, which lay in the river some miles below Verplank's point. On opening the packet from Jamieson at West Point, General Washington discoved Arnold's treason, and took prompt and effectual measures for the security of the post, ordering to it two brigades from the nearest division of the main army.

After allowing time for the notice of his detention to reach Arnold, Major André laid aside all disguise, and avowed who he was. His behavior was frank and ingenuous; and he seemed anxious for nothing but the vindication of his character from the imputations which the circumstances of his apprehension ap

peared to cast upon him. General Washington appointed a board of officers, of which Greene was president, and La Fayette, Steuben, and others, were members, to inquire into the case of Major André, and to report in what character he was to be considered, and what punishment he deserved. Even during the short time that André was in the power of the Americans, and notwithstanding the unhappy circumstances in which he was placed, his behavior and talents made a highly favorable impression on their minds; and when brought before the board, the members behaved toward him with the utmost respect and delicacy, and told him not to answer any questions that might embarrass his feelings. But in that crisis of his fate, André magnanimously disregarded everything but his honor. He gave a candid recital of circumstances, concealing nothing that regarded himself: but making no disclosures to inculpate others. He acknowledged everything that was reckoned essential to his condemnation, and the board of general officers to whom his case was referred, without calling any witnesses, considered merely that he had been within their lines in disguise, and reported that in their opinion Major André was a spy, and ought to suffer death. The sentence was ordered to be carried into execution on the day after it was declared.

The apprehension of Major André excited a lively sensation in the British army, which felt a strong interest in his fate; for he was dear to all his companions in arms, and especially to the commander-in-chief, who immediately, by a flag of truce, opened a correspondence with General Washington, and urged every consideration of justice, policy, and humanity, in favor of André. Finding his letters ineffectual, he despatched General Robertson to confer with General Washington on the subject, or with any officer whom he might appoint. He was met by General Greene; but no mitigation of the doom could be procured. On the day before his execution, Major André wrote an affecting letter to General Washington, requesting to be put to death like a soldier, and not as a malefactor; but the board of general officers, to whom everything respecting him was referred, did not grant his request. The 2d of October closed the tragical scene on that day the major was led out and hanged, supporting his high character to the last moment. He suffered amid the admiration and regrets even of the American officers; while his death was deeply lamented in the British army. He was a young man of an amiable character, engaging manners, and fine talents and acquirements. By a striking combination of circum