Clinton sent Major André to arrange the terms of the contemplated
treachery. A mournful interest attaches to the name of this young
officer: the fate which befell him was so very sad. He was of French
descent--high-spirited, accomplished, affectionate, merry-hearted. It
was a service which a high-principled man would scarcely have coveted.
But André desired eagerly to have the merit of gaining West Point, and
he volunteered for this perilous enterprise.
[Sidenote: Sept. 1780 A.D.] At midnight Major André landed from the
boat of a British ship of war, at a lonely place where Arnold waited
him. Their conference lasted so long that it was deemed unsafe for
André to return to the ship. He was conducted to a place of concealment
within the American lines, to await the return of darkness. He
completed his arrangement with Arnold, and received drawings of the
betrayed fortress. His mission was now accomplished. The ship from
which he had come lay full in view. Would that he could reach her!
But difficulties arose, and it was resolved that he must ride to New
York, a distance of fifty miles. Disguising himself as he best could,
André reluctantly accepted this very doubtful method of escape from his
fearful jeopardy.
Within the American lines he had some narrow escapes, but the pass
given by Arnold carried him through. He was at length beyond the lines.
His danger might now be considered at an end, and he rode cheerfully on
his lonely journey. He was crossing a small stream--thick woods on his
right hand and his left enhanced the darkness of the night. Three armed
men stepped suddenly from among the trees and ordered him to stand.
From the dress of one of them, André thought he was among friends.
He hastened to tell them he was a British officer, on very special
business, and he must not be detained. Alas for poor Major André, they
were not friends; and the dress which deceived him had been given to
the man who wore it when he was a prisoner with the English, in place
of a better garment of which his captors had stripped him.
André was searched; but at first nothing was found. It seemed as
if he might yet be allowed to proceed, when one of the three men
exclaimed, “Boys, I am not satisfied. His boots must come off.” André’s
countenance fell. His boots were searched, and Arnold’s drawings of
West Point were discovered. The men knew then that he was a spy. He
vainly offered them money; they were incorruptible. He was taken to
the nearest military station, and the tidings were at once sent to
Washington, who chanced to be then at West Point. Arnold had timely
intimation of the disaster, and fled for refuge to a British ship of
war.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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