Читать книгу The World's Greatest Military Spies and Secret Service Agents - Barton George Aaron - Страница 8

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All the world loves a lover, and the fact that the unfortunate Major John André was engaged to be married to a charming English girl at the time of his execution helped to place him in something like a romantic light before the world. He had another advantage. The blackness of the treason of Benedict Arnold made André shine by comparison, so that while the American was regarded with horror and contempt everywhere, the unhappy fate of the young Englishman excited universal sympathy.

It was in 1769 that André met Miss Honora Sneyd in Litchfield, England. It was a case of love at first sight, ardent and impetuous on both sides. But, alas, as is usual, the course of true love did not run smoothly. The match was disapproved by Miss Sneyd’s father, and the young man was told to keep away from the house of his adored one. To make assurance doubly sure he was sent to his father’s counting house in London. He tried hard to accustom himself to office drudgery, but in spite of his best intentions the face of Honora kept popping up from amidst the rows of figures, and upsetting his calculations.

His was an adventurous spirit, and in 1771 he tossed aside his ledgers and day books to accept a commission in a regiment bound for America. There was an affecting scene when he parted from Miss Sneyd and she gave him her portrait as a souvenir. He plighted his troth anew and promised that the picture should never part from him under any circumstances—a promise that was kept with pathetic fidelity.

Before he had been in America long André, by reason of his courage and intelligence, rose to the position of aide-de-camp to Sir Henry Clinton, commander-in-chief of the British forces. It was at this juncture that Benedict Arnold, smarting under supposed wrongs, made a proposition to the British to betray to them the post at West Point, of which he was in command. It was regarded as the key to the American position and General Clinton designated Major André as the man to conduct the negotiations with the traitor Arnold. The importance of this position was equaled by its danger.

The conspiracy between Arnold and André had been carried on by means of correspondence for quite a while. They wrote under fictitious names, and naturally the greatest secrecy was observed. But finally the time came when it was necessary to hold a personal meeting in order to bring the treason to a head. Major André at that time held the position of adjutant general in the British army, and it was at Arnold’s request that he was detailed to meet the traitorous general for the purpose of settling all the details. On the 20th of September, 1780, André went on board the British sloop of war Vulture with Colonel Beverly Robinson, and proceeded up the Hudson with a view of holding an interview with Arnold. There is a strong feeling, or at least circumstantial evidence, which indicates that Robinson was partially responsible for bringing Arnold to the state of mind where he was willing to sacrifice his country in order to satisfy his own wounded vanity. At all events, they made the trip together and on the night of the 21st a boat was sent by Arnold to the Vulture which brought André to the shore about six miles below Stony Point.

In a secluded spot and after midnight the conspirators met and prepared the plans by which the American cause was to be betrayed. Daylight appeared and still the conference went on. It was suggested that it would be desirable to have breakfast, and at Arnold’s invitation André consented to accompany him to the house of Joshua Smith, which was about two miles below the meeting place. They sat there for a long time and presently the booming of cannon was heard and they saw that the Vulture had weighed anchor and was proceeding down the river. This was due to the fact that Colonel Livingston of the American army thought that she was too near the American outposts, and with characteristic promptness he brought cannon to bear on the vessel and compelled her to descend the river.

This interfered seriously with the scheme that had been agreed upon between the Englishman and the American. Plans of the American works, their armament, the number of troops they contained and other important details were handed by Arnold to André. To make sure that he should not lose the precious papers Major André took off his boots and placed the documents between his stockings and his feet. As it was evident that André would not be able to reach the Vulture Arnold furnished him with a horse and gave him a pass which directed the guards to permit him to go where he pleased on the ground that he was engaged in public business. A similar pass was given to Joshua Smith who had acted as host to the spy and the traitor. Major André passed the entire day at Smith’s house in the hope and expectation of being able to get aboard the Vulture at night, but when evening arrived Smith became frightened and declined to row out to the Vulture. He proposed instead to cross the river with André and then see that he was put on the road by which he might return to New York. The Englishman was greatly disappointed, but was finally induced to throw Smith’s overcoat over his uniform, and shortly before dusk they started to go across at Kings Ferry. They succeeded in making about eight miles on the other side when they were stopped by an American sentinel. Arnold’s pass satisfied the officer in command but he warned them against proceeding any farther at night.

THE MEETING BETWEEN BENEDICT ARNOLD AND MAJOR ANDRÉ

They remained at a farmhouse until morning and by that time had now approached a portion of the country some thirty miles in extent which lay between the lines of the opposing armies and was considered neutral ground. After proceeding three miles farther toward New York André and his host breakfasted at a farmhouse and then parted. Smith returned home and André continued on his way to New York, confident that he was past all danger and that it was only a question of time when the treason of Arnold would be completed.

He was going through a wooded glen when he was suddenly confronted by three men, the first of whom was clothed in a manner which might suggest his connection with the British army.

“Good morning,” exclaimed André, imprudently. “Gentlemen, I hope you belong to our party.”

“What party?” asked the leader of the trio.

“The lower party,” said André, indicating the camp of the British army.

“We do,” said the leader, but with a significant look at his companions.

The young Englishman was now entirely off his guard and declared himself to be a British officer. He said that he had been up the country on most important business and must not be detained on any account. He drew out his gold watch as evidence of his statement, but to his surprise, the foremost of the young men clutched him by the shoulder and exclaimed:

“You are our prisoner!”

It afterwards became known that the three men were farmers of the neighborhood, their names being John Paulding, Isaac Van Wort and David Williams. Paulding happened by chance to be wearing an overcoat that had been left on his place by a British soldier, and it was this uniform that had misled André.

The English major was very much exercised by this time and now remembered his pass. He exhibited the paper that had been given to him by General Arnold, saying:

“You see that I am all right. This pass permits me to go through the lines.”

Paulding, however, was convinced that there was something wrong. He seized the bridle of André’s horse and compelled him to dismount and then subjected him to a very close search. They took off his boots and his stockings and found the concealed papers. Paulding read them carefully and as he came across the incriminating words exclaimed:

“My God, he is a spy!”

The Englishman used all of his persuasive powers on his captors, but in vain. He offered them any amount of money if they would release him, but they refused and conducted their prisoner to Lieutenant Colonel Jameson, who was in command of the post at New Castle. He in turn instantly sent the papers found in André’s possession by express to General Washington, who was then returning from a visit to the French at Hartford.

By a curious chain of circumstances Washington was returning with the members of his own military family, including General Lafayette and General Knox. On the morning of the 25th of September he sent a messenger to General Arnold saying that the party would breakfast with him on that day. As they approached Arnold’s headquarters at the Robinson house Washington turned aside from the direct route in order to visit the defenses on the east side of the Hudson. Lafayette, with the proverbial politeness of the French, suggested that Mrs. Arnold would be waiting breakfast for them.

“Ah,” replied Washington, “you young men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold. I see that you are eager to be with her as soon as possible. Go and breakfast with her and tell her not to wait for me. I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of the river. I will be with you shortly.”

His request was complied with. Lafayette and his friends found Mrs. Arnold—who was the famous Peggy Shippen—as usual, bright, gay and fascinating. Arnold himself was strangely grave and thoughtful. In the very midst of the breakfast a horseman galloped to the door and gave a letter to Arnold, which stated that André was a prisoner and that the papers found in his boots had been forwarded to General Washington. Arnold was compelled to act quickly in this crisis and he gave remarkable evidence of quickness of mind.

“Gentlemen,” he said to his guests, “I am compelled to leave you for a time and hope that I may be excused.”

From the breakfast room he hurried to Mrs. Arnold’s apartments, and when she came to him in response to his summons explained his position, saying: “I must fly instantly. My life depends on my reaching the British lines without detection.”

It was perhaps a few hours after this that the letters and papers which told the story of Arnold’s perfidy were handed to Washington. Washington read them calmly and, calling Lafayette and Knox, told them the story, adding sadly:

“Who can we trust now?”

Hot on the heels of this came one from Major André explaining his position and saying that he had been betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy in disguise within the American posts. He asked that in any rigor policy might dictate he should not be branded with anything dishonorable, as he considered himself a messenger in the service of the king and not an involuntary impostor. He said that he wrote to vindicate his fame and not to solicit security. To this letter Washington made no reply.

On the 26th of September Major Tallmadge, having André in custody, arrived at the Robinson house. General Washington declined to see the prisoner but gave orders that he should be treated with every courtesy and civility consistent with his absolute security.

The charming personality of the prisoner won for him the personal regard of all with whom he was brought into contact. His immediate jailor said that it often drew tears from his eyes to find André so agreeable in conversation on different subjects while he—the American officer—was reflecting on the future fate of the young Englishman.

While Tallmadge was on the way with André to the American headquarters their conversation became very frank and their relations friendly. Presently André asked Tallmadge with what light he would be regarded by General Washington at a military tribunal. The American hesitated, but when André repeated the question he said:

“I had a much loved chum in Yale College by the name of Nathan Hale, who entered the army in 1775. Immediately before the battle of Long Island General Washington wanted information respecting the strength, position and probable movements of the enemy. Captain Hale volunteered his services, went over to Brooklyn and was taken just as he was passing the outposts of the enemy on his return. Do you remember the sequel of the story?”

“Yes,” said André, in a low voice that was tremulous with emotion. “He was hanged as a spy. But you surely do not consider his case and mine alike.”

“Yes, precisely similar,” said Major Tallmadge, “and your fate will be a similar one.”

Washington in the meantime had received a number of communications from General Clinton concerning the case of Major André. Clinton, Arnold and Robinson conferred together as to the means of obtaining the release of André. Arnold wrote a letter to Clinton assuming the responsibility for André’s conduct, declaring that he came to him under the protection of a flag of truce, and that he gave him passports to go to White Plains on his return to New York. This impertinent letter from the traitor, enclosed in one from himself, Clinton forwarded to Washington, claiming that André should be permitted to return to New York.

As might be expected, these letters had no influence upon the action of Washington. He referred the case of the prisoner to a board of general officers, which he ordered to meet on the 29th of September, 1780, and directed that after a careful examination this board should report their opinion “of the light in which Major André should be considered and the punishment that ought to be inflicted.” This board consisted of six major generals and eight brigadier generals, who went into the case with unusual care.

When Major André was brought before the board of officers he met with every indulgence, and was requested to answer no questions which would even embarrass his feelings. He frankly confessed all the facts relating to himself. Indeed, the facts were not controverted, and the board reported that André ought to be considered as a spy, and, agreeable to the usages of nations, must suffer death. André met the result with manly firmness.

“I foresaw my fate,” said he, “and though I do not pretend to play the hero or to be indifferent about life, yet I am reconciled to whatever may happen, conscious that misfortune and not guilt has brought it upon me.”

The execution was to have taken place on the 1st of October at five o’clock in the evening, but Washington received a second letter from Clinton expressing the opinion that the board had not been rightly informed of all the circumstances on which a judgment ought to be formed and adding, “I think it of the highest moment to humanity that your Excellency should be perfectly appraised of the state of this matter before you proceed to put that judgment into execution.”

Accordingly he sent three of his staff officers to give Washington, as he declared, the true state of the facts. These gentlemen came accompanied by Colonel Beverly Robinson. General Greene on the part of Washington met the party and after a long conference left to report to Washington all that had been urged in behalf of André. Later General Greene sent a note to Colonel Robinson informing him that he had made as full a report of their conference as his memory would permit, but that it had made no alteration in the opinion and determination of Washington.

André died possessing the sympathy of his judges and the friendship of all the American officers with whom he had been brought into familiar intercourse. Both Tallmadge and Hamilton expressed for him an attachment almost passionate. He died in the full uniform of his rank in the British army. A letter from André to Sir Henry Clinton expressed gratitude for his kindness and commended to his consideration his mother and sister and excusing his commander from all responsibility for his fate, saying among other things, “I have obtained General Washington’s permission to send you this letter, the object of which is to remove from your breast any suspicion that I should imagine that I was bound by your Excellency’s orders to expose myself to what has happened. The events of coming within an enemy’s lines and of changing my dress, which led me to my present situation, were contrary to my own intentions as they were to your orders, and the circuitous route upon which I took to return was pressed, perhaps unavoidably and without alternative, upon me. I am perfectly tranquil in mind and prepared for any fate to which an honest zeal for my king’s service may have conducted me.”

On the 10th of August, 1821, the remains of André were removed from the banks of the Hudson to Westminster Abbey and interred there near the monument which had long been erected to his memory. In the south aisle near the window and surrounded by many great names is his monument on which is inscribed:

“Sacred to the memory of Major John André, who rose by his merits at an early period of life to the rank of Adjutant-General of the British forces in America; and employed in an important but hazardous enterprise, fell a sacrifice to his zeal for his king and country, on the Second of October, 1780. Age 29. Universally beloved and esteemed by the army in which he served and lamented even by his foes.

“His Grace and Sovereign, King George III, has caused this monument to be erected.”

It is an interesting fact that André never ceased in his affection for Honora Sneyd. He kept his pledge to be faithful to her always. His letters are full of the hopes and expectations of ambitious young manhood. While in New York with Sir Henry Clinton he was a great social favorite. Many proud young women, especially among the Tories, would have been glad of a matrimonial alliance with the handsome young aide-de-camp. André was human enough to appreciate and enjoy all of this flattery, but his heart was true to the girl he met in Litchfield. When the three farmers arrested him they stripped him—as they thought—of all he possessed, but he managed to keep the portrait of Miss Sneyd, which he always carried about his person, by concealing it in his mouth. He thought of her to the last.

And the pathos of it all lay in the fact that he expired in ignorance of the fact that she had died in London, two months before.